#I like this they have some nice interactions

[spentgladiator]

I love Valentine's Day. I'm a server, and have been for many years, so I get a peep into many different relationships and the thing about Valentine's Day in particular is.

Couples that dont go out together anymore, don't spend time together anymore and don't really like each other any more still go out on Vday because of the obligation (she needs to be able to tell the girls he took her to a nice dinner to keep up the facade of a happy marriage, he needs to say he did something or else the cute girl at the office who asks what he and his wife did might think he's an asshole) and those are the couple's you can spot a mile away.

They're usually in the 40-60 range but not always, when the kids are young they can feasibly get away with not doing something because they can't find a babysitter or equal excuse, so the kids are grown enough to have one stay home and mind the others. The body language will be stiff, rigid and deeply uncomfortable, as though they are sat across from some kind of creature or perhaps a beast. One or both will likely be looking at their phone a lot more than you would expect a couple at a romantic dinner. The conversation will be sparse, unemotional, very logistics based rather than anything intimate or emotional. They'll be "dressed up" like a business meeting, nothing sexy or fun and the vibes within fifteen feet of that table will be RANCID.

Any other night of the year and these people would be holed up on opposite ends of the house keeping themselves occupied, maybe she's out with some friends and he's practicing his golf swing on a simulation somewhere idk what straight men do honestly. They are strangers to each other, worse yet, strangers with BAGGAGE. they will both be totally impervious to your charm and attempts at being friendly and warm to lighten the mood, (alternatively, she will cling to you like a life vest as a source of any positive interaction, her eyes screaming 'please can I just hang out with you instead')

You wonder if you even need to put ice in their drinks cause with how cold they both are it's likely the drink would freeze in their hand anyway.

As for how these two make it through other special occasions - other people. Think about it.... Christmas brings children and relatives and friends, birthdays, Holidays, they never have to spend that time alone together. Valentine's Day stands out as a time when just the two of them HAVE to do something, lest they admit to themselves and each other that the love between them had died long ago.

This couple is not special. I see a few of them every Vday, you just have to try your luck if you wanna spot them. I recommend hopping, drinks and appys at one spot, main course at one spot, dessert at another to maximize your chances at spotting one. Just make sure you call ahead and book your tables!

[elysianightsss]

AAAHHHHH! HI! So sorry to bother you, but I read the neurodivergent reader x 141 and AHHHHH I AM LITERALLY SCREAMING, DROOLING, CHEWING AT THE BARS OF MY ENCLOSURE they wont let me out

i have a little idea… how would poly 141 react when they find out your job isnt this cute barista or something along those lines, but just a regular stocking associate or a cashier for some huge corporation. like, they know you work. and every time you leave, they see you die a little on the inside from having to go to *insert shitty job*. They just didnt know that you were working there and now they are trying whatever they can to convince you to quote your job and stay home… i know i would rather stay home and take care of them than going to my job…

Oh anon I love your brain! As someone who used to be a cashier before I got my fucking wonderful, literally no joke amazing office job, I fuck with this. I’m writing them as roommates tho don’t know why just deal with it😘

It starts off with a debate over what time you get up in the mornings given how tired you seemed today. But then they realise, they don’t even know what you do for work. Johnny predicts that you’re one of those cute baristas in sweet little aprons with how good the flavoured coffees you make him in the morning when he’s back from his run, are.

Kyle can’t seem to fathom you’re not the office sweetheart he seems to picture you as. Though you’d been living with them for almost over a year now, the guys were gone before you left for work and back long after you arrived home. Still he had it in his head the whole time that you were putting on tight pencil skirts and heels in the morning before going off to work. Something he argues tooth and nail with Johnny about.

John scoffs hearing the guys argue, usually keeping out of it, but this time he can’t help himself when he interjects with, “Yer both chattin shit. She’s obviously a baker with those mouth watering pastries she makes us.” Now that opens up the argument further.

Simon is the only one who doesn’t speculate, instead he walks right up to you on a Sunday night as the guys are all readying themselves for bed and you’re making your lunch for tomorrow. “Luv.” He calls, you glance at him, eyes honing in on the way his grey sweatpants hang low on his hips. Dangerous, dangerous man.

Looking back to the fruit you were slicing, you hum in acknowledgment, “Wot’s ya job?”

You bite back the grin that fights to split your face in two, turning to him you see he visibly softens at your little smile, “I’m a cashier.” You answer, ears tinging red a little. In all honesty you were embarrassed that you worked for one of those big corporations. The dreams you had once but were never able to reach are like a damp on your heart. Like a festering mould that only grows in the worst conditions.

Sometimes you enjoy the people, there are some nice ones that overcome the bad interactions. But everyday you pull on the trousers and trainers, and that itchy uniform top, you wish that a snowstorm would lock you inside the house. You pray to receive a call telling you not to come in due to a fire that started in the bakery. Your heart aches to be told you’re allowed to go home early even if you won’t be paid as much at the end of the month.

Simon hadn’t said much after you told him, his eyes darkened a little when he asked if you enjoyed it and you had answered swiftly and without hesitation; no.

Then suddenly, the guys are leaving for work a little later in the morning. The same time as you. John offering you a lift to work, Johnny making you coffee instead of the other way around, Kyle giving you one of his soft jackets so at least your arms will be comfortable even if your torso is covered in that itchy material.

Simon is the one who places his hand on your forehead and tuts beneath his black surgical mask. You scoff when Simon says he doesn’t think you should go in today, “I feel fine.” You counter with a frown, pushing his big paw away and shoving your feet into the uncomfortable trainers.

John stares down at them like they’ve offended him personally, “You own comfier shoes lass.” Johnny comments and Kyle nods in agreement.

“I have to wear them.” You say quietly wondering why they suddenly have such an interest in your work attire. Have to. Well, that just wasn’t acceptable. The guys didn’t think you should have to do anything.

The weekends were a little weird too. You would usually cook them meals and sweet pastries or cakes with how hard they worked, they deserved nothing less. But Johnny is ushering you away from the kitchen when you walk past the dining table and the marble counter island to make him a coffee.

John says no thank you in the most strained way you’ve ever heard it when you offer to make him a sweet treat. He deflates even further into the sofa when you look offended at his decline. Kyle pulls you close to him on the other side of the couch, putting an arm around you, he continues reading his book but it’s out loud this time.

You sigh snuggling close to him, head on his shoulder when Simon brings over one of the many plushies you’d left on the floor of the lounge, again, and one of the many soft blankets you’d unnecessarily bought for the house. Maybe you could get used to this, you thought as your eyes started to blink slower. It had been a really long week, with lots of assholes. A week of sitting in that uncomfortable chair had done a number on your back too.

You’re just lucky that you’d said from the very beginning that you won’t work weekends, at least you could have those to yourself. The guys became even more attentive, not that they weren’t before, but it increased tenfold. And you wondered why.

Why Kyle is packing you a lunch box everyday now. Why Johnny is cuddling up to you at night just so you sleep warmer, better. Why John is willing to race away from very important paperwork to sit outside the big supermarket you worked at just so you didn’t have to take the bus home. Why Simon keeps buying you lush smelling soaps, bath salts and those sparkly bathbombs he knows you love, you have so many now you don’t know what to do with them. Even when you ask him to stop, he shakes his head and grunts out, “Baths are good for sore muscles.” And that’s all you get.

You just want to know why, what brought all of this on. And most of all why it all suddenly stops.

Almost like a calculated mission, like a big discussion had happened before hand. All of it stopped. They had left long before you got up for work, no lunch ready to go, no soft jacket waiting by the door, no cuddle reading sessions on the weekend, no more new bath stuff, no more lifts and an expectant look in John’s eyes when it gets to dinner time.

They’d done a total three sixty. Like they wanted to show you how good it could be with their help, how much easier life could be, going to work could be, only just to take it all away.

That’s exactly what their plan had been, Simon’s idea mostly with little suggestions made by the rest of them. They all executed it thoroughly, now all that’s left for them is to compete the final step.

“Doll I think you should quit your job.” John goes first, you frown excessively. What the hell is he talking about, you think.

“Have you gone mad?” You huff. John knows you’re annoyed with them, hell they all know you’re angry by their actions. But it’s a necessary evil.

“Not yet I don’t think,” John jokes and feels a little lighter when the corner of your lip quirks up slightly, “I am serious.” He says simply, his blue eyes burning into you before he walks away. You think it so odd, strange that he says that out of the blue.

And then Kyle says it too. Coming into your room with the same baby Yoda squishmallow Simon had placed in your lap two weeks ago, and the same blanket. He gestures towards your bed, it’s subtle but you nod. Failing to hide his grin, Kyle gets snuggled up under the blanket with you, your arms wrapped around the plushie.

He’s halfway through the book, hand brushing through your hair scratching at your scalp deliciously when he broaches the subject, “Bun?” You scrunch up your nose, blinking your eyes open to look at him accusingly. The sight makes him chuckle softly, you’re screaming with your eyes, how dare you make me open my eyes and be fully conscious.

He leans forward before he can stop himself and rubs his nose against yours sweetly, something he tells himself later was just to butter you up before talking. It wasn’t.

“I don’t think you should go to work anymore.” He says simply, with ease, his voice calm.

“What?” You blink rapidly waking yourself up fully to actually take in what he just said.

“Just something to think about bunny.” He shrugs and goes back to reading with that damn lulling voice. You don’t stop him, don’t interrupt but your mind is swirling the same way it had the day before when John had said something similar.

Johnny is not so tactful, shovelling his breakfast in his mouth. Half masticated bacon and scrambled eggs rolling around in his wide open trap, when he spits out the words. “Quit yer job lass, no one wants to be stackin shelves and scannin someone else’s shit all day.” He scoffs washing his food down with the caramel flavoured coffee you made him five minutes ago. He’s quick to put the plate in the sink and place a sloppy kiss on your cheek. His head bend slightly, eyes level with you, “Think about it pet.” He pats your cheek lightly and earns a much more harsh smack to the back of his head by Kyle on the way out of the house.

And finally Simon…well Simon…um Simon just did what he thought was best, what he thought was necessary, what he thought would get you to comply the quickest…

You pant harshly, fingers gripping onto the light bronde hair painfully hard, yanking with each stripe Simon licked up your cunt. You barely noticed John walking passed your open bedroom door with a smirk, Simon had his face buried so deep in your pussy it was hard to think, hard to conjure up your own name let alone open your eyes and catch Kyle and Johnny pushing your door open a little wider and watching for a moment before Kyle drags Johnny away.

Simon’s broken too many times to fix, crooked nose brushed against your clit wonderfully, tongue fucking into your quivering hole making you buck your hips desperate for the release he’d been denying you for around twenty minutes now.

“Say it.” Simon cooed, encouraging you gently. Shaking your head, teeth biting down on your lip, holding on as tightly to your words as you held onto Simon.

Simon grips your jaw in his big paw, a sharp look comes across his features as though he’s about to scold you when you meet his gaze, thumb rubbing your clit in tight, rough circles to keep the stimulation enough, to keep you there on the edge so he has you right where he wants you.

“Say it and you can cum.” He promises, your eyes widen, stinging harshly with their own promise of tears should you keep this up.

“b-but-“

“No buts. We’ll take of everything sweetheart, oll ya afta to do is write the resignation letter, then stay here as our pretty little housewife.” He kissed your clit before moving his thumb back in its place, circling slower this time. You gasp, a broken sob wrenching itself from your chest as your orgasm starts to slip away with the lack of stimulation.

“Please! Please Si! I-“

“Oll ya afta do is say it. Quit, find yourself a cute hobby, cook and clean for us a little. Oll ya afta do is say yes and I’ll let ya cum luv.” He grins evilly when you whine, blowing on your cunt before licking a hard long stripe from your puckered asshole to your swollen, throbbing clit.

“yes! please yes I’ll quit just pl-“

Simon doesn’t let you finish your plea, devouring your pussy like a man starved. He licks, sucks, and flicks your clit, slipping his thick fingers inside your clenching, empty hole thrusting them in and out doing his best to match the pace he set with his tongue on your clit.

You cum hard, untamed. Back arching uncomfortably, limbs shaking rigorously and Simon slurps up everything you give him. You lay there trying to catch your breath when Simon crawls up your body to hover over you. His eyes meet yours when he grins, “Good girl. Now why don’t we get started on that resignation letter hmm.” It wasn’t a question.

Safe to say you happily quit your job.

[lanf1an]

DREAMS lando norris pt.2 When your childhood bestfriend Flo had convinced you to get the fashion design job at her brother's company Quadrant, it finally paid off when Louis Vuitton was announced as the new sponsor for F1.

pt.1 wordcount: 1248

The Louis Vuitton event was everything it was supposed to be—elegant, high-profile, filled with models, designers, and A-list athletes. You had been to fashion events before, but this was different. The merging of fashion and motorsport brought a unique energy, an almost surreal overlap of two worlds you hadn’t expected to be a part of at the same time.

You kept yourself busy, moving between conversations with your colleagues at Louis Vuitton, small talk, strategic networking, and answering questions about the collection. Lando had been doing his own thing—flashing smiles for the cameras, entertaining sponsors, talking to reporters, and a rotation of beautiful women.

You didn’t interact much throughout the night. Still, you were aware of him, it was impossible not to be in the suit you styled him in. You knew you had done a good job.

Until you heard your name.

The interviewer was smiling, microphone angled toward Lando as cameras recorded. 

"Yeah, the partnership with Louis Vuitton is great. But not only that, this outfit is styled by my sister’s best friend, which makes it extra special," Lando said smoothly, the perfect PR-trained answer. "Means a lot to me to be working together—first at Quadrant and now here at Louis Vuitton."

You stilled.

It wasn’t just what he said—it was how he said it. Like it was some full-circle, sentimental thing. Like he had ever said something like that to you before. As if you had actually personally worked together at Quadrant. It annoyed you, making your professional work sound like something personal and intimate, reserved for him, as if you hadn’t styled some of the other drivers with the same attention.

You turned away, ignoring the weird mix of irritation and something heavier sitting in your chest. You weren’t going to let it get to you.

And you hadn’t planned on saying anything.

But when the event was wrapping up and you were back at the hotel, by some cruel twist of fate, you ended up in the elevator together. Just the two of you, the hum of the lift filling the silence as the doors slid shut.

Lando leaned back against the mirrored wall, hands in his pockets, looking unbothered as ever. You had to say something. 

"What was that all about?" you asked, breaking the silence.

He glanced at you, feigning innocence. "What are you talking about?"

You gave him a look. "That perfect little PR answer."

He smirked slightly. "Thought you’d appreciate the shoutout."

You folded your arms, unimpressed. "You’ve never said anything like that to me before."

"Didn’t know you wanted me to, the media has given you enough attention." he shot back, tilting his head.

You huffed a laugh, shaking your head. "Right, cause that’s all I care about."

Lando turned, arms folding over his chest. "What’s the problem? It was a nice answer."

"That’s not the point."

"Then what is?"

You didn’t have an immediate response, which only made his smirk widen.

The elevator doors slid open, and before you could walk out, his voice stopped you.

"Anyway," he drawled, walking towards the door. "Thanks for the nice outfit, it was great, should’ve asked you to style me sooner.’’ he stretched his arms above his head, yawning.  ‘’Can’t wait to take it off though. Looking good is exhausting, sweet dreams stylist" 

You rolled your eyes without a response, walking to your room annoyed that it had gotten to you.

-

The second night of the Louis Vuitton x F1 launch was in full swing, luxury and motorsport merging under glittering lights. You kept to your side of the event, mingling with the LV team and ensuring the drivers looked sharp.

You barely interacted with Lando after yesterday, just the occasional glance across the room to admire the suit you had picked out for him tonight.

Then, as if sensing your thoughts, your phone buzzed.

Lando: Where are you?

You frowned, typing back.

You: At the event, obviously.

Lando: Need you. Now.

Your heartbeat kicked up. You glanced around, trying to spot him, but he wasn’t in sight.

You: What? Why?

No response.

Then another buzz.

Lando: Toilets. Back hallway. Please.

Your stomach twisted. Without thinking too much, you slipped away from the crowd, making your way toward the hallway. You pushed open the door to the private restroom area, and there he was—leaning against the sink, looking both frustrated and amused.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, shutting the door behind you.

Lando exhaled sharply, tugging at the waistband of his pants. “Zipper broke.”

You stared at him. “Are you serious?”

“No, I’m making it up for fun,” he deadpanned. “Yes, I’m serious.”

Your eyes narrowed, stepping closer. “A Louis Vuitton zipper doesn’t just break.”

Lando hesitated. Just for a second.

It was quick, but you caught it. And suddenly, the situation felt… off.

You crossed your arms. “What exactly were you doing before this broke?”

Lando’s expression didn’t change, but you knew him well enough to catch the shift—the slight smirk, the too-casual way he leaned back.

“Are you implying something?” he asked, voice teasing.

You raised a brow. “I don’t know. Am I?”

His grin widened, but he didn’t answer.

Your stomach twisted, an irrational frustration bubbling up. Why did you care? It wasn’t your business what—or who—he was doing before this event. But the thought of him slipping away with someone, being careless enough to mess up his suit right before stepping out onto the carpet, annoyed you more than it should have.

“Forget it,” you muttered, stepping closer. “Just—hold still.”

Lando’s smirk lingered, but he obeyed, shifting just enough to give you better access.

You knelt down, fingers adjusting the fabric quickly. The problem itself wasn’t as bad as he made it sound—it was a minor snag, nothing you couldn’t handle. But the proximity was dangerous. Your fingers moved with careful precision, but it was impossible not to graze the warm skin beneath the waistband. You could feel the way Lando barely shifted, his breath steady but controlled, like he was making an effort not to react.

“Not bad at this, are you?” Lando murmured, voice lower than before.

You didn’t respond. You just focused, ignoring the way his muscles tensed when your fingers brushed against him.

Finally, with one last tug, you straightened. “There. Fixed.” 

Lando glanced down, then back up at you. Neither of you moved.

The air shifted.

And then, before you could think too hard about it, he leaned in.

His lips met yours, firm and insistent. It was messy, rushed, like neither of you had planned for this but couldn’t stop it either. You barely had time to react before you were kissing him back. His hand slid to the small of your back, pressing you into him like he was afraid you’d slip away if he didn’t hold on.

Then, as suddenly as it started, you pulled back.

Breathless.

Lando exhaled, eyes flickering over your face, searching. “Well,” he murmured. “That’s one way to handle a wardrobe malfunction.”

You stared at him, your own breath unsteady.

What the hell just happened?

WN: Hope you guys like it! Let me know!

tl: @freyathehuntress

[steddieas-shegoes]

guilt fades, scars remain

written as part of @st-loveconfessions february kindness event for today: write a fic based on art! the moment I saw this absolutely stunning art by @stervrucht, I knew I had to get some words out. @runninriot also wrote something inspired by this art and it's just as stunning as the art itself, you can find that here!

rated m | 1031 words | cw: blood and injury | tags: eddie munson lives, steve rescues eddie, eddie has a crush on steve, pre-relationship, open ending but assume they're getting together

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

The tears drip. The rain hits the roof. The sweat builds along his hairline.

Eddie’s alone. He’s scared. He’s sick of feeling pain everywhere.

“Eddie?”

The voice is back. He should be happy. Hearing Steve’s voice is a relief compared to what he’s been feeling for so long. He’s not even sure how long he’s been stuck here. Hours, days, weeks?

Years?

“Eddie.”

The voice is clear, but it’s always clear. Sometimes it’s far, sometimes it’s close. It sounds worried, but talking back to it doesn’t help.

He’s sure of only one thing: Steve Harrington’s voice is a balm on his nerves and patience alike. If he can’t have the real Steve saving him, he’s glad he at least has his voice in his ears.

Cool hands are covering his naked chest. It feels so nice, like an ice pack on an injury.

He supposes he does have an injury. Probably a lot if the shooting pains across his side and legs are anything to go off of.

“Eddie, hey.”

Eddie blinks. His vision focuses.

“There you go. Keep your eyes open. I’m getting you out of here.”

“Steve?”

“Yeah, it’s me. Sorry we kept you waiting so long.”

Eddie’s got tunnel vision, which is weird for a hallucination. Or maybe it’s not. He’s only done shrooms once and he barely even hallucinated before he passed out.

Eddie reaches one hand up to try to feel if Steve is real. He touches bare skin and he laughs.

“‘S fake.”

Steve’s got a lot of hair on his chest, he remembers from when he jumped into the lake. He remembers thinking how nice it must be to fall asleep on his chest, run his fingers through the soft hair there.

“What’s fake?” Steve asks.

An interactive hallucination is very strange, but it’s a nice distraction from the pain. It fades in and out like the intro and outro to songs. He’s gotta figure out how to put this into music.

“You,” he answers. There’s still no other voices and there’s no way Steve would rescue him alone. No one would let him come down here alone. “Me.”

“We’re not fake, Eddie. I knew we should’ve come back sooner. You’re fuckin’ delirious,” Steve sounds panicked now, and Eddie doesn’t want that. Hallucination Steve should be relaxed.

“Calm. Hurts, but calm.”

He’s being lifted up slowly and he’s sitting for the first time since the bats started trying to eat him. Feels a little weird, something internally screams, and then he realizes he’s actually screaming externally.

Steve’s trying to keep him calm and quiet, shushing him as he pulls him to his shoulder, hand tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck. It’s nice, smelling something that’s not the stench of the Upside Down or his own blood. Feeling something human where all he’s known is dirt and ash.

“It’s gonna hurt for a few minutes, but it’ll be worth it,” Steve’s saying in his ear.

Eddie raises an arm. It hurts. It’s not as bad as when he sat up, but it’s more pain than he should be feeling.

He must make a noise because Steve’s burying his nose into Eddie’s hair and it feels intimate in a way that doesn’t belong here. This place is broken, Eddie is broken, and Steve is stable.

“I’m gonna lift you up. Is anything broken?” Steve whispers against the side of his head.

Eddie hopes he remembers all of this. He hopes when he wakes up— if he wakes up— the first thought he has is about Steve touching him like this, making him feel alive and precious, worthy.

He must’ve answered Steve because he feels the ground fall out from under him and then searing pain in his side. Steve’s carrying him and he’s going to black out from the pain.

“Just a few minutes. Just hang on a few minutes. For me, Eddie,.”

Eddie can do anything in his dreams, so he hangs on for a while and then everything goes dark.

++++

“Eddie.”

The voice again.

It’s not clear this time, but he knows it’s Steve.

“Eddie, wake up.”

He blinks his eyes open and immediately closes them again, whining at the obnoxious bright light right in his eyes. If heaven is this bright, he’s not interested.

“Sorry. Let me turn those off.”

Steve’s voice is clearer now, sinking into his brain as the memories start to float back to him. Steve saved him. Steve showed up in the Upside Down shirtless and-

“Where was your shirt?” Eddie asks, voice raspy and trembling. He sounds as weak as he feels.

“My…shirt?” Steve asks.

“Y’were naked,” Eddie continues. “Nipples everywhere.”

Steve lets out a bark of a laugh and Eddie is going to combust. Making Steve laugh might be the best thing he’s ever done in his life…or death, if he’s dead.

“I was using it to stop the blood on your leg,” Steve explains. “It was still bleeding.”

He sounds…haunted.

“Did I die?”

Eddie focuses on Steve, the way he holds himself as if he’s in trouble, the way he won’t look directly at Eddie’s face. He’s guilty, but Eddie can’t imagine why.

“No. I don’t know how, but no.”

“You saved me.”

“I was almost too late.”

Eddie hums in protest. He’s too tired to argue, but he knows he’s right. Steve saved him. It doesn’t matter how long it took, or how many shirts were ruined in the process. He’s alive.

“C’mere,” Eddie whispers.

Steve steps closer. Eddie manages to grip his shirt, not tight, but enough for Steve to look down and then back up, finally settling on his face.

“Y’did good,” Eddie says. He closes his eyes hoping that’ll conserve energy to say what he needs to. “Thank you.”

“Eddie-“

“Sit. Sleep.”

He’s not sure if Steve listens because he’s already drifting back out of consciousness, but he can feel the weight of Steve’s hand in his and he’s pretty sure he’s not gonna let go.

When he wakes up, he still feels Steve’s hand in his.

His eyes flutter open to see Steve asleep in the chair next to his bed.

Shirt on, unfortunately.

[the-silver-astrophel]

Honestly there's not much to elaborate on, I just have quite a lot of rarepairs and cross ships for genshin impact that would probably make kids on tiktok tell me to die (not hard to achieve but still)

I wouldn't say my rarepairs are that odd actually, I usually ship characters because I think their personalities would give a interesting dynamic together or just simply because they look nice next to each other.

As an example, Baizhu is obviously a nice (potential shady) man who really wants to achieve immortality and Xiao is a immoral who seems unkind due to how much he's suffered. I like to imagine how they would interact with each other, maybe Baizhu would try to convince Xiao to let him stay close in order to help with his pursuit of immortality (like with Qiqi) and after some time together would attempt to fix Xiao's karmic debt.

And with Ningguang x Chiori my thought process was "pretty orange woman with power, pretty orange woman be powerful and pretty together."

I don't treat my genshin impact x honkai star rail ships that much differently besides being a bit more looser with them. Literally the only reason I ship Arlecchino x Argenti is because I saw it in one of my dreams.

I have genshin crossover ships from non hoyoverse media (e.g, Heizou x Ranpo Edogawa or Freminet x Chihiro Fujisaki) but it's 4:45 am for me right now and I haven't gotten 1 oz of sleep so that's a post for a different day (I'm never going to talk about this again.)

TikTokers are such pussies when it comes to ships. “B-but they’re not canon 🥺🥺🥺😭😭😖😖” honey back in my day we shipped characters from entirely different medias uphill both ways in the snow

[rafesbuzzcutseason]

chasing city lights

chapter 6 - you look good

synopsis: you move to new york to start fresh, hoping to find comfort in the city’s atmosphere. that’s when you meet sarah cameron, where she takes you to a concert and you catch sight of the lead band member, rafe cameron. it only takes a moment for you to realize you’re captivated by him. as sarah helps you navigate your new life in the city, you start to get pulled deeper into rafe's world—the music, the fame, the chaos. the more you get to know him, the more you realise that rafe is not just the rock star he seems to be. he’s wrestling with his own demons, and the last thing he needs is someone like you getting close.

masterlist

cw: lanuguage

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ ☾. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

you headed out of bed and made your way downstairs to where everyone was having breakfast, a rush of nerves taking over you entered the room, searching for the group.

you could feel rafe's gaze on you before you even looked in his direction, and when you did, you could see his eyes narrow, his look unreadable.

"there you are!" sarah spoke, "thought we were gonna have to leave without you." she laughed.

"don't be silly i just needed my beauty sleep." you laughed back. "what's the plan for today?"

"thought we could have a walk around a bit before we had to drive back?" cleo asked.

"sounds good" you said as you grabbed some pastries. "you gonna come rafe?" you asked him directly as he was yet to address you.

"i will if you are" he said quietly, making your heart skip a beat, his remark not going unoticed by the rest of the group.

jj cleared his throat, and a small smile played on sarah's lips, enjoying the small interaction between the two of you. "alright lets get going then, you guys ready?" she said.

"yeah lets go" topper said bluntly, a shift in his usual upbeat demeanour, but he quickly bounced back as you all made your way outside.

after a few hours walking around, you all made your way back to the hotel to pack up your things and get ready for the drive home. the boys had a flight to san francisco for their show before they were headed to LA for their last nights on tour there.

you had all made a rough plan to fly out to LA for the last show, making sure the whole group was there to celebrate the end of tour.

as everyone made their ways to their rooms, you hung behind with rafe, walking slower than the rest of the group, intenitally from you, and hoping it was for rafe also.

"how are you feeling to be finishing the tour?" you asked him, breaking the silence.

"sad, but ready for a long break and to spend some time at home" he replied leaning against the door as everyone got into their rooms.

you nodded understandingly, "LA will be good though. it'll be my first time there."

"no way? i'm gonna have to show you around then." he responded smugly.

"yeah?" you pushed.

"yeah." he smiled, "can't have you lost in the streets of LA now can we?" his height meaning he had to lean closer to you to get his words across.

"i guess we can't."

"i'm happy you're gonna be there." he added

"you are?'

"course." he responded quickly. "always nice to know there's a pretty girl in the crowd cheering me on." and with that, he turned away from you and made his way to his own room, leaving you flustered and stuck in your stance, taking in his words. pretty girl?

as you went to open the door, it flung open and sarah dragged you in.

"oh my god not to be a CREEP but i heard that all" she said excitedly. "y/n he likes you. i knew it i knew it!" she shut the door with an exagerated slam, not even giving you time to process what just happened.

"lord sarah what just happened." your voice barely above a whisper.

"he literally just called you pretty. i KNEW he was acting different around you, he's been so nervous." she squealed.

"are you sure it wasn't just rafe being rafe?"

"stop right there. look i'm not blind. it all makes sense now, the way he's always looking at you. i just thought he was trying to figure out his opinion on you, but he likes you. rafe isn't the type to throw out compliments like that, he's always playing it cool, he doesn't care about anything. but the way he just spoke to you? that was different"

"you don't mind?" you asked nervously.

"i would if i hadn't got to know you like i do now. i'm so protective of him and his whack ass fans, but i love you y/n, you've become my best friend in such a short time, i want you happy, and i want my brother happy. do you like him?"

"fuck, maybe. what does this mean?"

"i don't know, but i know LA is about to get a whole lot more interesting." she grinned. "come on let's hit the road and chat with the girls. we need to come up with a plan."

and with that, you finished packing and headed out the door, making your way to the car for the long drive home, where you were sure a lot would be unpacked.

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ ☾. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

a/n: feeding you all today, felt the slowburn needed to be RESOLVED. anyway just wanted to clarify you can tell who's ig story it is by the profile pic as i'm not sure if that was clear or not my bad

taglist: @hoefordrewstarkey @marleymarleymarleymarley @bee-43 @cherryhoneybabe @skye-44 @drewrry @drewrry  @yesterdaysproblemm @pogueprincesa @dylsdaily @rafeysworldim19 @valyrianflower @kaiparkerwifes @judesgfirl @4urvalidation

[butlervibesonly]

hi!! I love ur writing and I had this idea if you could please write it!? It could be Austin x actress reader, they are dating and made a movie together and now they are at some kind of interview, but they are both distracted by each others pressence 🤭 maybe like the tension between them growing visibly and it could end with some funny comments from fans? Thank you in advance! 🌼

𝑈𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑛𝑖𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑖𝑟𝑒 || Austin Butler

• Pairing: Austin Butler x actress! reader

• Warnings: Austin and reader can’t take their eyes off of each other, flirting, desire,…?

• Note: HIII! What an absolutely amazing idea! You can’t imagine how I enjoyed writing this!! ( @eternal-love could tell… 😝) also! picture used at the end is fictional; created with app called TwiNote! AND YES, I HAD TO ADD THIS SONG.

You and Austin have been dating for a long time now. You both met thanks to the same industry you two work at and that nothing less than your beloved acting. Now that Hollywood has given you the opportunity, both of you were casted in a movie where you played love interests.

That was of course very easy for you, since the love you guys feel for each other is truly unconditional. When it comes to making movies there are a lot of duties to promote the movie by any kind of a way. One of them is interviews. Austin and you are on a press tour, promoting the movie you guys made and today… there is something in the air…

The bright studio lights cast a warm glow over the set, highlighting the two stars seated side by side in chairs. And that is of course you and Austin. The interviewer has barely finished the introduction before the oddly satisfying energy filled the room.

Even tho that the two of you have been together for nearly over a two years now, sitting next to each other like this, all dressed up for the press tour, makes it feel like you are back on set, falling for each other all over again.

You look absolutely breathtaking in a formal black dress in Austin’s eyes. Austin is wearing his grey shirt and black pants – so damn handsome. There are some glances between the two of you from the beginning of this interview. Something so unspoken but still so obvious.

“So,” the interviewer started, bringing you from your own thoughts. “Austin, Y/n… It’s nice to have you here today.” Both you and Austin smile warmly. “Thanks for having us.” Austin says, his voice low and deep - just like the way you love it.

“You two have worked together before, but this was your first time playing romantic opposite each other. Did that make things easier or harder?”

Austin opens his mouth to answer, but then you shift beside him, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, and he gets completely lost in thoughts. His gaze flickers to you, and you only, caught in the way your lips curl so slightly at the edges, because you know exactly what you’re doing to him.

You raise an eyebrow, noticing his hesitation. “Easier,” you answer smoothly, tilting your head toward him after breaking the uncomfortable silence. “Definitely easier.”

Austin clears his throat, attempting to focus on the interview that’s being recorded. “Yeah, I mean, when you already have a connection, it helps.” He finally manages to say, though his words came out slower than he wanted, as if his brain is struggling to catch up with the sight of you beside him.

“I see. So you slid into the characters pretty easily, didn’t you?” Austin chuckles, wanting to answer the question with confidence, but then your fingers brushes his to hold his hand. Just for a second, just enough to send a spark up his arm. Austin of course looses the thoughts again. You can see he is out of his straight thinking, and take over the question again.

“Mhm, yes. The characters we got to play are actually not so different from us, so it was really easy to bring those characters alive.” you smile warmly. The interviewer grins, clearly noticing the interaction of you and Austin. “You both look like you’re still in characters.”

Austin rubs his tight as he always does, his other hand rubbing his lips - as he always does. “Are we?” he smirks, letting out a laugh to ease the atmosphere in the air.

What Austin actually does is that he unbuttons the few buttons of his shirt on his chest. You peripherally see his chest glistening in the studio lights, the lust in your eyes growing stronger. Okay. Focus. Just answer the questions… goes through your head.

The interviewer is speaking about the movie, but neither you and him registers the words. You shift beside him again, crossing your leg over the other. You just look so stunning for Austin to keep his eyes off of you. Too stunning. How is he supposed to form sense able sentences when you’re sitting this close?

Little does he know that you are now kinda doing it on purpose. Austin hears his name being mentioned, knowing he needs to get back to reality from his fantasizing about you. Say something, Austin. Anything.

“So, Austin, what was your favorite scene to film?” the interviewer asks. His favorite scene? He blinks, hesitating. Right. The movie. The reason you’re both here.

His brain is stubborn, refusing to pull up any scene except for that one; The one where your hands roamed around his body, the way you whispered his name like it belonged to you. The way it never felt like acting.

“Um…” He starts searching for a savory answer. “I really liked the one that actually director decided to remove… But it was some kind of scene where Y/n and I run through the rain on a beach.”

You smirk, knowing he is lying and tries to hide his real intentions. It’s actually no longer after when you are the one being questioned, and suddenly know how it felt for Austin when you are being seduced by the sight. He’s staring.

You can feel the weight of Austin’s gaze without even looking at him. It’s been happening since you walked onto the set of this interview of course, but now it’s getting way harder to ignore. Every time you move, his eyes follow. Every time you smile, his lips twitch like he’s fighting the urge to do the same.

It’s distracting. So unfairly distracting. You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, again, pretending not to notice the way his hands flex slightly, like he wants to reach out and just touch you.

As the interviewer continues to say something, you risk a glance at Austin, and sure enough, he’s already looking at you with that expression of his. His blue eyes are squinted due to his eyebrows furrowing, more intense, almost as if he has forgotten you’re supposed to be acting professional.

You notice the way his jaw clenches when he’s thinking. His fingers drumming against his knee when he’s trying to focus. The way his unbuttoned shirt opens just right, and how his cologne still lingers.

“…undeniable desire,” the interviewer says. “I mean, come on, do you two even realize how you look at each other?”

Austin finally tears his eyes from you, shaking his head with a breathy chuckle. You cross your arms, biting back a smirk. Damn yes you do. And so does everyone else.

Interviewer leans back in his chair, watching both of you being barely present. You and Austin are both trying to stay focused, you really do, but at this point, it’s a lost cause already. Every glance, every half-smirk, every moment or hesitation before answering a question. Too much to handle at this point.

The interview ends the moment, thanking you both for coming - even tho you did absolutely nothing at the interview - and with a quick glance behind the camera at his producer he grins. Yeah, this definitely going viral.

With a teasing smile the interviewer calls it a day and shakes both of your hands. “Well, I think that’s all the proof we need.” Austin’s furrows his brow. “Proof?”

You are equally confused as Austin. “Of what?”

The interview chuckles, standing up. “That the two of you are terrible at pretending you’re not totally into each other.”

Austin lets out a breathy laugh, shaking his head and you groan, covering your face with one hand. “Yeah, it’s just hard not to keep eyes off of her,” Austin’s hand lands on the small of your back and you shiver at his touch.

You two walk off the set, heading into the backstage. As soon as you both arrive at the changing room, Austin smashes the door to close them. You gasp surprisingly and he leans you against the door.

“You will be the death of me, Y/l/n.” he whispers into your ears, his lips then capturing yours. He grips your hips, pulling you close enough to him as he savor the fact he can finally kiss you. Only a fool wouldn’t know how you spent the rest of the night after arriving at the hotel.

[darkfictionjude]

OH BY GODS THAT ENDING FUCK ME I WAS THINKING ABOUT COMING HERE TO COMPLAIN ABOUT HOW BROKE UP MY HEART WAS AFTER LORCAN DISMISSED CROWNY AND ASK YOU WHAT IS THE KINDEST ROMANCE ROUTE BECAUSE I CAN'T TAKE LORCANS ANGST ANYMORE (not without some fluffy in between) BUT THAT ENDING GOD DAMMIT JUDE WHAT A WAY TO END WITH A B A N G!

Perfection, just 🤌

... but without screaming this time, could you please kindly rank the kindest to roughest (?) romance routes - separating kind/antagonize? I really need a break from Lorcan abandoning us at the dance floor 😭 (when I saw the "me and you" line I knew Crowny was COOKED, BWAH)

Also, I don't think I realized how fucked up everyone was until now. Yeah I know, sHoCkInG, but when Irme admitted he knew about James stunt and did nothing? Not nice man, not nice. No one coming after them to see if they were okay after? Can't blame Lorcan, he hates our guts, but Nia is/was Crowny's BFF... should mean something right? And everyone calling debts on each other in the library? Also fantastic, I love fights (I don't, but do). I don't know how friendship points make that interactions different (do they?) cause every opportunity I have I go to that sweet little red heart in Lorcan's scenes (and he still hates me 😭😂)

Hmmmm so let me see. Kindest is Nia friendly, then Lorcan friendly, then Imre friendly. Then it’s Nia antagonistic, Lorcan and Imre

What’s interesting about you saying you didn’t realize it is that another reader kind of said the same thing too on the itchio comment section. It was surprising to me to see the surprise hahah cause I thought it was obvious this was coming since every time these four are together they fight. The first time they don’t is in this episode when they’re costume shopping. I feel like they didn’t go after crowny because they don’t know how to comfort them all of them are kind of bad at it 😭 they probably thought it was best to leave crowny alone as a way to not make it worse? Not the best method ofc

I’ll give you some hope. Lorcan doesn’t really hate crowny any more. I don’t think he’s realized it yet but his actions (when you don’t mention his parents, orla) show he doesn’t dislike crowny’s presence

So yeah their way of showing the have crowny’s back is either killing James and/or helping crowny not go to prison cause they willing got involved in something that could fuck up their lives too. I think it counts a lot that none of them hesitated to get rid of the evidence there was no “crowny killed him it’s not my business” or ���we should call the police” they were ride or die. If that doesn’t show loyalty I don’t know what does

[takeru-minamoto]

if I had to point any fingers, I think the breaking point between "it's fun to ship these two, and I don't need canon confirmation" and "this couple is endgame and if you believe anything else, you're a hater and a war criminal!!" was the "Naruto Shipping Wars" back in the 00's... DeviantArt went from a nice place to post fanart, fan comics and shipfics, to pretty much a war zone...

when Shippuden was beginning to air in Japan, western fans were having such an influx of new information and interactions between characters (thanks to illegal streaming) that everyone started shipping whatever they wanted, even shipping people who never even crossed paths in any moment... it was in this climate that the beef between the NaruHina fans and NaruSaku fans got so bad, in DA, anti-groups started to appear, groups filled with fanart against each couple, or against specific characters... the hate got really bad, people flaming others for who they shipped, each side gathering evidence to support that either Sakura or Hinata were going to be the canonical pairing for Naruto (or even Sasuke, though the NaruSasu side of things wasn't as hateful)

After that, and with all that came after, the shinobi war, Madara, Kaguya, and Boruto... the fires of war died down, but I know some people who still insist that Sakura should've been endgame... it was a huge mess, and can't say I've seen any anime get that big in regards to shipping to split the fandom in half, except maybe BNHA, but that was a free for all race (with people shipping Deku with pretty much everyone in his class and then some), and however passionate each people has been regarding their ship of preference, most agreed that either Ochako or Melissa were the most likely endgame (even conceded that Horikoshi wouldn't prioritize couples in his story, which was mostly true), and neither side got as hate-filled for the other as with the Naruto Shipping Wars...

with all the changes in how we consumed anime back then, and the aftermath of the NSW, people started to gather information before blindly supporting a ship based solely on vibes... if you research a bit over internet culture, the point were people really began to make slideshows to present how X or Y ship is the most canon date back to the late half of the 00's

why did shipping turn into a contest of “most accurate” or “most likely to be canon” why do i have to get a 40-slide powerpoint, three defense lawyers, a fortune teller, and a background check of myself and my whole immediate family to say i want two ppl to have sloppy makeouts in a car

[mortallydeepestobservation]

The Case of Us.

Summary: You and Namjoon are an unlikely pair, clashing from the start. He’s a seasoned detective, used to working alone and running on instinct. You, a rookie, fresh off acing your detective exam, ready to prove yourself. At first, you butt heads—your sharp, hardheaded approach grating against his calm, measured demeanor. But there's an undeniable pull between the two of you, an unspoken understanding that begins to form as you both tackle case after case. Through the chaos of the job, you rely on each other more and more. And though you're still figuring out the balance between the stubborn rookie and the seasoned detective, you both know one thing for certain—you're a hell of a team. A/N: Oh Hey everyone... So, I did it again—I got overwhelmed by life and felt the need to write... And you know the drill. (I ended up re-reading Chapter 4 of Holiday Pretense so many times that I couldn’t tell what was repeating and what was just my brain spiraling. And i guess I rage-quit for the day) So instead, I ended up writing something completely different. But this time, it's really random and far "into the story". Also, that pancake dialogue is loosely inspired by a conversation from "Castle"-oldish detective serries i love to this day. Call it a teaser if you will? (I wanna know if anyone would be interested in something like this.) (besides those 5 wips i have already lol. i need professional help 😓🥲) (thank you always @callmenoona25 for proofreading. love you) Pairing: Namjoon x f.reader Genre: detective/ thriller. neo noir(?) Rating: explicit. Minors do not interact. Warnings: Guns. Mentions of serial killers and bodies. Crimes. Corpses. police/detective lingo. Detective Yoongi and Jungkook being the best duo. (Also, if you know me. I tend to keep it light- not very gore. But i do have a genuine obsession with true crime/detective stories/criminology. So this might turn off some readers. proceed at your own discretion) tag list: @uniquetravelerone @sexytholland @codeinebelle @annyeongbitch7 @rpwprpwprpwprw @goldietigers294 @amarawayne @oneshallsmile

The dead of night. The scent of rain still clung stubbornly to the damp, heavy air, even hours after the downpour had stopped. Your tv was on, though it was on mute.

Then you heard it.

A sound—a shuffle by the doorway.

Instinct took over. The lights went dark in an instant, your hand moving with practiced ease to the gun at your hip. You gripped it tight, steady, breath held as you listened.

The sounds didn’t stop. The lock turned. The knob twisted.

Before the intruder could take a step inside, you struck—slamming your full weight against him, pinning him to the doorframe, gun pressed firm against his throat.

“Holy shit-!”

A familiar voice. Your grip tightened for just a second before recognition set in.

“Namjoon?”  you didn’t lower the gun.

“Who else would it be?” his tone was maddeningly casual, one hand gripping your wrist, pushing the barrel down to his chest, right above his heart. “Just— don’t shoot the face.”

Your pulse was still hammering in your ears, the rush of the adrenaline refusing to fade. You let out a slow breath, easing the gun off his chest but not fully lowering it.

Namjoon let out a short chuckle- half amused, half exasperation. “Nice to see you too,” he muttered, rolling his shoulder as if shaking off the impact.

“You could’ve called.” you shot back, eyes still sharp, scanning his face in the dim light. he looked tired, damp hair falling messily over his forehead, his clothes wrinkled like he’d been running all night.

“And argue with you over the phone?” he asked, rubbing at his throat where the gun had pressed, “I think it worked out better this way.”

Your gaze flicked to the door, still slightly ajar. “You picked the lock?!”

He shrugged. “Old habits.”

You exhaled through your nose, finally lowering the gun all the way. “What the hell are you doing here, Namjoon?”

His smirk faltered slightly. For the first time, you noticed the tension in his jaw, the way is fingers curled slightly over the damp paper bags he was carrying.

“I-” he took a breath, like the confession hurt, “I’m worried about you.”

You huff, incredulous, slamming the door shut behind him and locking it.

“I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can. Clearly.” he gestured vaguely towards the gun in your hand. “Doesn’t change the fact that as your supervisor and partner, I worry about you.” He moved with ease, setting the bags on your kitchen table, leaving a trail of wet footsteps all across your tile floor.

“Namjoon, I’m not a rookie anymore.”

Namjoon let out a quiet sigh, rubbing a hand over his face before leaning against the counter. “I never said you were.”

You crossed your arms, watching him. “Then stop treating me like one.”

His eyes flicked to yours—sharp, unreadable. “If you want me to stop, then quit making it so damn easy to worry.”

That shut you up for a second.

The weight of his words lingered in the space between you, thick as the humidity still clinging to the air. You glanced at the paper bags on the table, the edges crumpled from his grip. “What’s this?”

“Dinner.” He peeled one open, pulling out a takeout container. “Figured you haven’t eaten.”

You frowned, but your stomach betrayed you with a quiet growl. Namjoon heard it—of course he did—and the smirk that tugged at his lips made you want to shoot him just on principle.

“I was going to eat.”

“Yeah?” He arched a brow, flipping open the container. “What, exactly? Stale instant noodles? Maybe those grotesque granola bars you like to keep in your purse and only eat after they expire?”

You huffed but didn’t deny it.

Namjoon grabbed a pair of chopsticks and held them out. “Sit. Eat.”

“Is this standard procedure with all your trainees?” The sarcasm was thick in your voice, but you still took a seat across from him.

“Just the ones that get themselves targeted by serial killers.”

Your grip on the chopsticks faltered for just a second.

Then you scoffed. “That supposed to be a joke?”

Namjoon didn’t laugh. Didn’t even blink.

Your stomach twisted.

“I’m serious.” His voice had dropped, low and steady, the kind that sent a chill down your spine. “We need to talk.”

You eyed him warily, then set the container down. “About what?”

Namjoon exhaled, rubbing at his temple like he already regretted this conversation. “There was another one.”

Your fingers curled instinctively around the edge of the table. “Where?”

“Downtown. Two blocks from our last case.”

You didn’t need him to elaborate. Your mind was already connecting the dots, pulling up images you didn’t want to see.

Same M.O.? You almost asked, but you already knew the answer.

Namjoon watched you carefully, like he was waiting for the realization to hit.

It did.

“That’s why you’re here.” The words tasted bitter. “You think I’m next.”

His jaw tightened. “And you clearly agree. Why else would you sleep with your gun strapped to your hip?”

“I think you guys are overreacting.”

“Is that why you called the protection detail off? You were supposed to have uniforms watching you right now.”

“The captain is being absurd.” You take a bite of rice “Much like you are right now.” You argue between mouthfuls.

“You’re impossible.” He watched you with that usual superior look of his, that challenging glare that made your blood boil.

“So, what? You decided to break in and deliver takeout because you think I have a target on my back?”

Namjoon’s expression didn’t shift. If anything, his silence spoke louder than any answer he could’ve given.

Your stomach churned—not from the food, but from the implications hanging between you.

He wasn’t here just because he thought you were in danger.

He was here because he knew you were.

“I’m staying the night.”

You snapped. “Oh, like hell you are!”

Namjoon didn’t flinch. He just set down his chopsticks and looked you dead in the eye, his gaze unwavering.

“I’m staying the night,” he repeated, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

You shot him a look that could cut glass, but his expression didn’t change. There was something in his eyes—something you couldn't quite place.

“Not a chance, Namjoon,” you snapped, pushing yourself away from the table. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

“No, you need to not get killed.”

The words snapped like a gunshot between you, sharp and final.

Neither of you spoke.

Outside, the rain threatened to start again, fat droplets tapping against the glass.

You held his stare, your jaw clenched and shoulders squared, the air between you so tense it felt like either of you might snap.

“Fine.” You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “But you sleep on the couch.”

Namjoon’s lips twitched into a small, almost imperceptible smile. “Deal,” he said, nodding in silent agreement as he slowly backed away from the table. He didn’t argue further—there was nothing left to say once the terms were set. “I also got us a bottle of wine to celebrate you finally taking an order from me.”

“You’re impossible,” you counter, using his earlier line.

You resumed eating, though the rice had lost its appeal. Each bite felt heavy, burdened by the tension between you. Every clink of chopsticks and scrape of ceramic against the table punctuated the silence like a metronome counting down the moments until something else would shatter the uneasy calm.

Namjoon didn’t respond immediately, his gaze drifting toward the kitchen counter, where the bottle of wine sat like a silent witness to the strange turn of events. He seemed content to let the silence stretch between you, his presence still an unspoken weight in the room.

The tension was thick, almost suffocating, but you didn’t care to break it. Not yet. The thoughts swirling in your head—the things you hadn’t said out loud—kept you rooted in place. The noise of the rain outside, once soothing, now only added to the discomfort that crawled under your skin.

Namjoon poured two glasses of wine, his movements slow and deliberate. When he placed one in front of you, you took it without a word. He watched you for a beat, his eyes searching, trying to gauge what was really going on beneath the surface.

You took a sip, the warmth of the wine doing little to ease the cold unease that wrapped around you. The day, the case, everything was starting to feel too close, too personal. And Namjoon’s silent presence wasn’t helping, no matter how much it was meant to comfort.

After a few minutes, Namjoon cleared his throat softly, watching you look down into your glass. “I don’t suppose you’d mind if I set up my gear in the living room?” he asked, voice low. “Just in case we need to move fast.”

You frowned, glancing toward the door where the muted TV light played over the wall. “It’s your turn to be my backup tonight,” you muttered, half teasing, half warning.

He raised an eyebrow. “You know I never leave your side—even if I’m on the couch,” he replied, a trace of amusement in his tone that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

You shot him a sidelong look, then set your glass down. “Get your things, Namjoon. And for the record, I’d prefer not to have a detective rummaging through my living room,” you added, attempting to lighten your tone despite the unease creeping in.

He smirked. “I’ll try to behave,” he said with a wink that belied the seriousness behind his words.

Moments later, the quiet hum of preparation filled the apartment. Namjoon unpacked his duffel bag with the methodical precision of someone who’d been in high-stakes situations far too many times. You found yourself glancing repeatedly at the window, where the rain began to fall again in earnest, drumming against the glass like a ragged heartbeat.

“I’ll fetch you some blankets.”

“A few pillows too.”

You chuckle, “Do you want a facemask too?”

Namjoon looked up from his bag, a playful glint in his eyes despite the tension hanging in the air. “Only if it comes with a side of earplugs,” he teased, the corner of his lips twitching upward.

You rolled your eyes, standing up from the table and moving toward the closet “Yeah, baby boy needs his beauty sleep.”

You tossed the blanket and pillows onto the couch, but as you straightened up, the sound of the rain outside seemed to deepen, becoming almost repetitive in its heaviness. For a moment, neither of you spoke—just the low hum of the apartment and the soft drum of water against glass.

Namjoon broke the silence with a more serious note. “Try and get some rest. You’ve had a long week.”

You paused, turning to face him, your gaze met his, and for a moment, the usual banter was gone, replaced by something more sincere—something that tugged at the edges of your own quiet worry. You opened your mouth, but the words didn’t come right away, and you debated if you even wanted to let them out.

“Thank you.”

Namjoon’s gaze softened, the seriousness in his face fading into something just slightly softer.

He nodded slowly, as if accepting your gratitude, though his lips didn’t curve into a smile. There was something grounding about the way he held your gaze, like he understood more than you were saying.

“You don’t need to thank me,” he murmured, his voice low, but the words carried weight. “It’s what we do.”

You exhaled quietly, finally giving in to the tension in your shoulders. “Yeah, well... it’s still nice to hear.” You couldn’t stop yourself from adding, the soft edge to your tone. “Thank you for being here. And for dinner.”

“It’s no problem,” he said quietly, his voice steady but gentle. “You know I’ve got your back.”

“Yeah.” You still sigh despite yourself, pushing towards the bedroom “Goodnight Joon.”

Namjoon watched you as you moved toward the bedroom, his eyes soft, but there was a hint of something unreadable in them. He remained silent for a moment, just watching you before speaking in that calm, reassuring tone of his.

“Goodnight,” he said quietly, though his voice lingered in the space between you, grounding you in the moment.

You didn’t turn back, but his presence, quiet and constant, felt like a weight lifted, even just for tonight. The quiet murmur of the rain outside seemed softer, less oppressive as you closed the door behind you.

~~~

The smell of pancakes felt foreign in your apartment. The rich, buttery scent filled the air, its warmth cutting through the cool, damp atmosphere of the morning. You blinked a few times, trying to shake off the grogginess, your mind still hazy from sleep. It took a few seconds for you to process what was happening.

Namjoon.

You could hear the faint sound of him humming, the clink of utensils, the quiet sizzle of batter on the griddle. The peacefulness of it felt almost surreal after the tension of the night before.

Rubbing your eyes, you stepped out of the bedroom, the coolness of the floor beneath your feet grounding you back in reality. You walked toward the kitchen, where Namjoon was flipping pancakes like he’d done this a hundred times in your kitchen—like he belonged there.

He glanced up when you appeared, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips, but it was the kind of smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes. The weight of last night still hung in the air between you.

“Morning,” he greeted softly, the scent of coffee following the pancakes.

You blinked at the scene, still a little dazed. “Did you... make this?” You gestured toward the stack of golden pancakes, the syrup bottle, and the neatly placed plates.

“I wanted to make eggs. But they expired last year, and your bacon had something growing on it.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. We need to go to the precinct.”

“Will you relax? Just sit down and eat.”

You shot him a look, but he was already plating another pancake, as if he were completely unfazed by the chaos that had defined your life for the last few days.

“I’m serious, Namjoon. We don’t have time for breakfast. The precinct is waiting, and you’ve got a duty.” You gestured vaguely to the mess of plates and syrup bottles, your voice tightening slightly despite the absurdity of the moment.

He turned to you with an almost exasperated expression, but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes. “You need food. We both do. The precinct will be there when we're ready. In the meantime, we sit. We eat. You get a few minutes to breathe.”

You huffed in frustration but couldn't deny the logic behind his words. He was right, you were barely functioning on caffeine and adrenaline, and you needed a break—even if just for a few minutes.

“Fine,” you muttered, sitting down at the table. “But as soon as we're done, we're out the door. No more distractions.”

Namjoon gave you a nod, his tone still light. “Oh, I forgot the newspaper.” He turned off the stove and did his little half-jog to the door.

But as soon as he twisted the doorknob, the door slammed open against the weight of the body propped against it. A sickening thud reverberating through the apartment. Your heart skipped a beat as the sight of the corpse registered in an instant—its pale, lifeless face staring up at you, eyes vacant and unseeing. The air in the room felt like it had thickened, the weight of the situation crashing down on you.

Namjoon froze for a moment, his hand still on the doorknob. Then, without a word, he stepped back, his body moving with precision as he grabbed his cell and tossed it to you.

“Call the precinct.” He instructed, fetching his gun in an instant “And stay back.”

Your fingers trembled as you caught the phone, the shock still running through your veins. You barely registered the coldness of the device against your palm, too focused on the scene in front of you. The body. The blood that had pooled around it, seeping into the carpet like it was part of the apartment itself.

You fumbled with the phone, dialling the precinct, your breath hitching in your throat. The line rang once, twice, before someone picked up, their voice professional, unaware of the horror unfolding in your living room.

“112, what’s your emergency?”

“This is Detective Hwang, badge number 1209. There’s a body on my front door.”

The voice on the other end of the line shifted instantly, now alert. “Detective Hwang, stay on the line. Is the scene secure? Do you need assistance?”

“Yes,” you said, your voice tight as you tried to steady your breathing. “We have a body. It's… propped against the door. Get someone here immediately.”

“Understood, Detective. Stay where you are. Officers are on their way. Do not engage with the scene further.”

You glanced over at Namjoon, who was crouched by the body now, his gun trained at the door as he assessed the situation. He didn't flinch or pause, moving with the practiced calm that had always been his trademark.

It took less than 8 minutes for your apartment to be crawling with uniforms, CSU, and of course, Detective Yoongi and Jungkook.

“So,” Jungkook was talking to Namjoon, merely a few steps away from where you sat at the kitchen table across from Yoongi. “Wine glasses.”

“Yeah, Namjoon brought dinner and wine.”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow, glancing between you and Namjoon with a smirk. “Dinner and wine, huh? Cozy night in?”

Namjoon shot him a deadpan look. “It was supposed to be breakfast, too, until we were rudely interrupted by a corpse.”

Jungkook let out a low whistle, shaking his head “Pancakes?”

You glanced over at him, confused.

“So, nothing else happened?” Jungkook continued undeterred.

“Jungkook what are you on about?”

“Well, you know what they say about pancakes.” Yoongi replied, though his eyes were still glued to his notepad.

You narrowed your eyes, glancing between Yoongi and Jungkook. “Okay, I’ll bite. What do they say about pancakes?”

Jungkook grinned like he’d been waiting for you to ask. “Pancakes are the best way to say ‘Hey, thanks for that amazing sex last night.’”

You choked on absolutely nothing, spluttering as Namjoon let out the world’s longest sigh beside you.

“Oh my God,” Namjoon muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Can we not do this right now?”

Yoongi finally glanced up from his notepad, entirely unbothered. “It’s a well-documented theory.”

Jungkook nodded, very seriously. “Classic post-hookup breakfast. Means it was so good that one of you felt compelled to whip up something warm and sweet the next morning.”

Your mouth opened, then closed. Then opened again. “It was just breakfast, Jungkook.”

“Was it?” Jungkook teased, crossing his arms. “Because the way I see it, there are two wine glasses on the counter, Namjoon sleeping over, and pancakes on the table.”

Namjoon made a noise somewhere between a groan and a death rattle. “I hate all of you.”

You threw up your hands. “For the last time, nothing happened!”

Yoongi huffed, and Jungkook shook his head as he jotted down on his notepad “witness refuses to cooperate.”

You gawked at him. “Are you seriously writing that down?”

Jungkook nodded, scribbling dramatically. “Refuses to acknowledge the overwhelming evidence of post-coital carbohydrates-”

“Oh my god,” you groaned, dragging a hand down your face.

Namjoon, looking moments away from actual homicide, turned to Yoongi. “Please arrest him for obstruction.”

Yoongi barely held back a smirk. “Tempting.”

[slcmml]

teacher! charlie & reader — me + you = ♡

i don’t know who agrees with me on this, but i’ve been onto math teacher! charlie & english teacher! reader since dinosaurs went extinct..

♡ i’m thinking a middle school setting.. eighth grade, perhaps. you’re across the hall from each other, but don’t talk too often. not much apart from the shy waves in the morning and small talk while waiting outside of your classrooms to greet your students.

♡ well, that was until charlie started having computer issues. now, don’t get me wrong, he’s a very intelligent man! but he fucking hates these school issued chromebooks they’ve handed out to students.

♡ he usually assigns most work on paper since it’s math, but the school asked for him to start using ixl or fucking khan academy, i don’t know. something online that students can access in case they lose their papers.

♡ but you? you used chromebooks all the time! you weren’t cruel enough to make your students write their papers by hand!

♡ none of charlie’s students could figure out what was wrong with the chromebooks, and neither could he, so he went across the hall to get some help (all embarrassed too.. so cute).

“hi! sorry to interrupt, but i’m having trouble getting my students chromebooks to work? do you think you could help?”

♡ of course, being a nice person, you invite him into your classroom and happily help the man. you explain to him why it was broken and how to fix it etc (he wasn’t listening btw, was staring at you the entire time, he thinks you’re so beautiful).

♡ and after that interaction, charlie tries to talk to you more. (YOU’RE SOOOOO BEAUTIFUL HE JUST WANTS TO BE AROUND YOU) in the break room, he’ll ask how your classes are going, and at lunch, he’ll stop by to see what you’re doing, and even at the end of the day, he’ll check up on you to make sure you don’t stay at the school too late.

♡ his students do not fail to notice this. in fact, they encourage it. “but mr dalgeish, my chomebook is broken! can you please ask them to fix it? i want to finish my work so i don’t have to do it at home!” how could he turn down an opportunity to see you?

♡ he tells his class to keep a low volume while he leaves the room for a moment, walking over to your classroom with his student’s chromebook before knocking.

“hello. sorry, again, for interrupting. i’m not quite sure what’s wrong with this chromebook… could you help?” “oh, don’t worry about it! of course i’ll help!”

♡ you start to take a liking to mr dalgeish too.. he’s quite cute, isn’t he? :) he seems so nervous to talk to you outside of the routine good mornings, which you adore.

“so, uh, how was your weekend?” “it was nice! i got to relax and not worry about grading, so what more could i ask for?” “haha, yeah, i, uh, i agree!”

♡ your students probably get so sick of you both. smiling at him while he stumbles over his words like an idiot. one of his students probably try to stage a note, but it’s so obvious that it’s from said student LMAO.

‘dear beautiful english teacher please date me - mr d’

♡ you put a note on his desk with the note from the student attached.

‘so mr d, do you know what this is about?’

♡ oh GOD. he’s so embarrassed. he spends THIRTY minutes of class lecturing them on how that was unprofessional and inappropriate.

♡ talks to you at some point during lunch break.

“i’m so sorry about them—they can get really out of hand and they really like to meddle in other people’s business which is an entirely different conversation—” “charlie, it’s fine.” “i-it’s fine? ‘charlie’?” “oh, is that okay? i mean, i thought—” “no, no, no, it’s more than okay. i like it.” JUST KISS ALREADY.

♡ so. much. fucking. tension. YOU’RE BOTH TEETERING ON FRIENDS/MORE THAN FRIENDS AND IT ANNOYS EVERYONE.

♡ i can assure you right now, if you or charlie don’t make a move, your students or even a fucking coworker will do it for you. (enter: teacher! jschlatt and teacher! ted nivison)

© slcmml

[soluversworld]

Bound by Tears, Held by Love- Solivan Brugmansia x Yan! G.N Reader (Smut!)

The kid at the back is a 18+ visual novel Minors don’t interact!-

Words: 16000

Genre: Yandere- Reader is same from the Sol series I wrote!!

(Reader is G.N)-(This one-shot is nsfw!)

Summary : After a long day, For some reason, Sol didn’t come to class today. You missed him terribly! You meet him again? After a nice bath with him ? Will he you make feel better? <3

TW/CW: Mentions of marking, Manipulation, Slight pet-play, Dirty talks, Yandere Y/n and Solivan Brugmansia , Toxic relationship, Unhealthy relationship, Edging turned overstimulation, Suggestive, Manipulation, obsessive behavior, unhealthy relationships/feelings, Clingy, Manipulation, Jealous, Both Reader and Sol are submissive-dominant at one point each, oral sex, rough handling, and marking/branding with bites. It may also touch on themes of possessiveness, dominance.

In short,

Content Warning: This one-shot will contain explicit sexual themes, graphic descriptions of intimate acts, and strong language. It may not be suitable for all audiences.

Please proceed with caution if these triggers could cause distress. If you experience any discomfort

The day had started like any other, but it quickly spiraled into a mess you hadn’t expected. Sol wasn’t at university today. You’d noticed right away—the lack of his subtle smiles, the absence of his quiet presence trailing just a little too close for comfort. It wasn’t until you received a text from him, right as you arrived, that the weight of his absence truly hit.

“Busy today. Don’t wait for me. Be good, pumpkin.”

The message had felt colder than usual, even if he added his usual nickname for you. There wasn’t time to dwell on it, though, because Deryl had immediately intercepted you, going on about how you needed to talk to Crowe. Something about sorting things out, making things right. But you couldn’t—didn’t. Crowe was always so understanding, so kind, and deep down, you felt like you didn’t deserve to lean on him anymore.

Instead, you spent time with Hyugo, grateful for the distraction. His bubbly energy kept things light, even as you carried the weight of your emotions silently. He’d thanked you again for helping him keep his family off his back, allowing him to do what he loved without their interference. Hyugo was a good soul, and you were glad you could be there for him. But as the hours passed, he too had to leave, off to his mysterious errands.

This part of lore is locked <3

Alone now, you wandered aimlessly, the campus feeling too big and too empty without Sol. You thought about your friendship with Crowe, about how things had unfolded. You hadn’t meant to hurt Sol, but it was clear now that your closeness with Crowe had struck a nerve. Sol had always been possessive in his quiet, brooding way, and you’d been too caught up in your own thoughts to notice. He will kill him.

If he kills Crowe.

You would kill him.

You felt like a terrible person. Guilty. Torn. You’d never meant to make him jealous or sad, but you were delusional about the whole situation. You’d let your feelings and uncertainties cloud your judgment. And now, you were left with this gnawing ache, the realization that you’d hurt the one person who always tried so hard to be there for you.

The sky opened up, rain pouring down in heavy sheets. At first, you welcomed it—maybe it would cleanse the suffocating guilt weighing on your chest. But then the tears started, mingling with the rain as they slid down your cheeks. The world around you blurred, and you were thankful no one could see you like this.

The rain might have hidden your tears, but it couldn’t hide the pain. Not from yourself.

The rain fell like a curtain of sorrow, soaking through to the bone, but you barely felt it. Each step homeward was heavy, burdened by a tempest within. The air was thick with the smell of rain on pavement, a melancholy symphony of muted taps and sighs. Your clothes clung to your skin, hair plastered against your face, as if the storm itself sought to keep you captive to your despair.

From the shadows, unseen by your drenched and wandering gaze, Crowe lingered. His dark eyes followed your figure, his usual calm replaced by something raw and unspoken. Beside him, Deryl nudged his arm, his voice low and insistent, “Go. Give it to them. Say something.”

Brittney and Jess, ever the voices of gentle encouragement, echoed Deryl’s sentiment. Crowe exhaled, the weight of their words pushing him toward resolve. He took the umbrella in hand, its promise of shelter feeling heavier than its frame. Slowly, he stepped forward, his polished shoes splashing through shallow puddles.

Yet he stopped.

It wasn’t hesitation that froze him, but the sight that awaited him just ahead. You had paused, your head bowed, lashes fluttering closed against the rain’s assault. A moment of peace amidst the chaos. And then, as if conjured by some unspoken wish, there he stood—Sol.

His silhouette emerged from the haze of rain, an umbrella poised like an offering, a silent guardian come to reclaim his place by your side. Your eyes opened, catching sight of him, and Crowe saw it—the transformation. The way your sorrow melted into joy, the way your lips curved into something radiant, unburdened.

A laugh escaped you, light and unrestrained, and before Crowe could comprehend it, you had flung yourself into Sol’s arms. The man caught you as if it were the most natural thing in the world, his embrace firm yet tender, his hand cradling the back of your head as if you were something precious.

Crowe’s breath caught. For a moment, his grip on the umbrella tightened, knuckles pale against its dark handle. But then, as your laughter rang out again, he forced himself to smile. A smile forged from steel, brittle at its edges, but sincere in its core. You were happy. That was enough. It had to be enough.

You were happy with Mr Brugmansia.

Sol’s gaze lifted then, catching sight of Crowe standing just beyond your bubble of bliss. Sol’s eyes were cold, darkened by the storm, and Crowe felt the weight of his disdain like a physical blow. But Crowe, ever the gentleman, merely inclined his head, a gesture of quiet acknowledgment.

Sol, however, looked away, his jaw tight. To him, Crowe was a specter, a name he hated to utter—Ichabod, the shadow that lingered too close to you for comfort. Sol held you tighter, burying his face in your damp hair as if to remind himself, and you, who truly held your heart.

And so, Crowe turned, his shoes splashing once more through the puddles as he retreated into the rain. The umbrella remained unopened in his hand, its purpose unfulfilled. He carried it as a memento of a chance unclaimed, a reminder of the moment he realized the truth.

You were someone else’s.

But as Crowe disappeared into the storm, the sound of your laughter lingered, like the faintest chime of a distant bell. And for that, he smiled once more, his heart both heavy and light.

He was happy, you were..happy.

The rain cascaded around you, creating a private world where the rest of the universe ceased to exist. You squealed in delight, clutching Sol tighter, your wet clothes making the embrace all the more intimate. Sol’s faint smile deepened, though his cheeks flushed a soft pink that reached to the tips of his ears.

“Did you miss me that much?” he murmured, his voice low, almost teasing.

You pulled back just enough to look at him, your fingers lightly brushing his damp hair from his face. “Of course I missed you! What kind of question is that?” you teased, your tone playful yet edged with sincerity.

Sol’s blush deepened, and he turned his face away, his free hand gripping the umbrella handle tightly. “I… I didn’t mean to stay away. I… If you’re mad, I—” He hesitated, his voice cracking slightly as his gaze found yours again. There was something almost desperate in the way his soft orange eyes searched yours, as though afraid he’d ruined something precious.

“Pumpkin, how… How would I make it up to you?” he asked, the pet name spilling from his lips with a rawness that made your heart flutter.

You couldn’t help it. His flustered expression, his genuine guilt—it was all so endearing. Before he could ramble further, you wrapped your arms around him again, burying your face in his chest. His heart thundered beneath your ear, and you smiled against him.

“You don’t have to make anything up, silly,” you whispered, your voice muffled but laced with affection. Tilting your head up, you pressed a soft kiss to his jawline, lingering just enough to feel him stiffen in surprise. “I’m just so happy to see you, Sol. That’s all that matters.”

The kiss made him freeze for a moment, his wide eyes darting to meet yours. Then, as if the realization of your closeness hit him all at once, he turned away again, his ears burning. “Y-You’re going to kill me,” he muttered, though his lips curved into a shaky smile.

But you weren’t done yet. Your mischievous streak took over, and you decided to lean into his adoration just a little more. With a playful pout, you clasped your hands behind your back and tilted your head, letting the rain streak down your face.

“You know,” you said, your voice teasing, “I could still be mad. Maybe you need to try a little harder to make me forgive you…”

Sol’s eyes snapped back to you, and for a split second, something flickered in his gaze—possessive, intense, and entirely Sol. His blush didn’t fade, but his grip on the umbrella tightened as he leaned slightly closer, his wet hair casting shadows over his face.

“What would it take, pumpkin?” he asked, his voice lower, almost velvety, as if he were daring you to push him further.

Your heart skipped a beat, but instead of backing down, you stepped closer, closing the already narrow gap between you. With a playful laugh, you brushed your fingers against his chest, looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes.

Your heart skipped a beat, but instead of backing down, you stepped closer, closing the already narrow gap between you. With a playful laugh, you brushed your fingers against his chest, looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes.

“Hm… Maybe I’ll tell you if you promise not to disappear on me again,” you said coyly.

Sol’s expression softened, his gaze melting into something utterly smitten. “I promise,” he murmured, the sincerity in his voice making your chest tighten.

For a moment, the rain and the world around you disappeared again, leaving only the two of you standing there, drenched but completely lost in each other. Sol reached out, tucking a strand of wet hair behind your ear, his touch featherlight. His lips parted as though to speak, but instead, he just smiled—soft, adoring, and completely yours.

The rain had slowed to a gentle drizzle by the time you and Sol began your walk home together. You clung to him, your arms looped around one of his, leaning so close your head brushed the curve of his neck. Sol stiffened for a moment, his breath hitching audibly, but he didn’t move away. If anything, he seemed to relax into your touch, a faint smile tugging at his lips despite the blush creeping up his cheeks.

You could feel his pulse quicken under your cheek, and it made your heart flutter. He liked this—you knew he did. The way his fingers tightened ever so slightly on the umbrella handle gave him away. Sol might have been soft-spoken and shy, but there was no hiding how much he adored you.

“You know…” you began, your voice playful and light as you tilted your head to glance up at him. “You’re really cute when you blush like that.”

Sol’s steps faltered, and he let out a soft, embarrassed laugh. “I-I’m not…” he murmured, his voice trailing off as he tried to glance at you but failed to meet your gaze. His blush deepened, and he looked away, biting his lip.

You leaned in closer, your cheek brushing against his damp collarbone as you smiled mischievously. “Oh, but you are,” you teased, your voice dropping to a whisper. “And I think you like when I say it.”

He didn’t deny it. Instead, he let out a shaky breath, his free hand twitching at his side as though he wanted to hold you closer but didn’t quite dare to.

The idea of pushing him further made your heart race, not out of cruelty but because you loved seeing this side of him—the side that was so completely wrapped around you, so utterly devoted and vulnerable. And if you were honest, you liked knowing just how deeply he wanted you, how much he was willing to unravel for you.

“Hey, Sol?” you said suddenly, your voice light and cheerful as though the tension from moments ago had evaporated.

“Hm?” he hummed, glancing at you with those soft, doe-like eyes, still tinted with hesitation.

“Let’s hang out at your place,” you said brightly, tugging on his arm like a child asking for a treat. “We’ve never done that before, right? And it’s only fair since you already know my house so well…”

Your grin widened at the way his eyes widened, his face going from pink to a deep crimson in an instant. He opened his mouth to say something—probably an attempt to deny or explain his little habit of keeping tabs on you—but all that came out was a soft, incoherent sound as he averted his gaze again.

You giggled, delighted by his reaction, and grabbed his hand, interlacing your fingers with his. “It’s fine, Sol,” you said, your voice teasing but reassuring. “I don’t mind. Actually, I think it’s kind of sweet.”

“Sweet?” he echoed, his voice barely above a whisper. His grip on your hand tightened, as though afraid you’d slip away if he didn’t hold on.

“Yeah,” you said with a shrug, swinging his hand slightly as you walked. “You care about me so much. I like that about you. You’re always thinking about me, even when I don’t know it.”

His steps slowed, and he glanced at you with an intensity that made your breath hitch. For a moment, you thought he might say something, but instead, he just smiled—a small, soft smile that held a hint of something deeper, something darker.

You felt your heart race, and the realization hit you like a jolt of electricity: you wanted this. You wanted his obsession, his unrelenting need to be near you, to protect you, to make you his. It was intoxicating, the way he looked at you like you were his entire world.

As you reached the edge of the neighborhood, you tugged on his hand again, pulling him along as you skipped ahead. “Come on, Sol! Don’t look so serious,” you said with a laugh, turning to grin at him. “I’m happy to be with you. Isn’t that enough?”

He blinked, his expression softening as his blush returned. “Y-Yeah,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “It’s more than enough.”

But you could see it in his eyes—the unspoken promise, the depth of his feelings.

Sol wasn’t just happy to be with you; he was complete with you.

You love that about him don’t you?

Maybe god loves you to keep out of your delusional thoughts.

Suddenly,

The sound of the car speeding by echoed through the street, its tires splashing through a puddle with reckless abandon. Before you could even react, mud splashed across your clothes, the brown sludge staining your uniform. A scream escaped you, frustration and annoyance bubbling up as you wiped at your drenched clothing.

“FUCK YOU, CAR DRIVER!” you shouted, your voice carrying through the rain, though your words didn’t seem to make any difference to the speeding vehicle.

You huffed, feeling a little defeated, and looked down at your ruined clothes. “Ugh, this was my main one,” you muttered to yourself, trying to rub at the stains, but it was no use. Your frustration didn’t last long, though, because Sol was already by your side, his worried gaze soft and focused on you.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice surprisingly concerned, but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes that made you pause.

You looked up at him, still damp from the rain and the mud, and his lips were curving into a grin that made you roll your eyes. “What now?” you snapped, shaking your arms in frustration, but it only made him laugh even more.

His laugh was soft and melodic, the kind of sound that made your heart flutter despite the annoyance you were feeling. “You’re so cute when you’re mad,” he said, wiping a tear from his eye as he tried to suppress his laughter.

Your face heated up at his words, and before you could even stop yourself, you let out a loud, flustered kyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa that was far too loud for the public setting. You nearly died from embarrassment, the sound escaping your lips before you could catch it.

But before you could even think about what was happening, you found yourself leaping at Sol, your hands cupping his face as you kissed him right in the middle of the street, the rain still coming down around you.

His surprised gasp was the only thing you heard before you melted into him, your lips moving against his with a newfound urgency. The entire world around you disappeared, and all you could think about was him—his warmth, his sweetness, the way he smelled like rain and something uniquely him.

Sol, though still caught off guard, didn’t pull away. Instead, he seemed to fall into the kiss with you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he pulled you closer. He was blushing furiously, his hands trembling slightly as he held you against him.

“You’re so cute…” he muttered between kisses, his voice strained with emotion as he kept his hands tightly on you.

You pulled away for a brief second to catch your breath, your chest heaving as you looked at him. His face was still flushed, but the joy in his eyes made your heart race.

“I can’t help it,” you whispered, a little breathless from the kiss. “You’re just too cute, Sol.”

Sol’s smile was so soft, so genuine, and in that moment….

You both walked into his apartment, the warmth from the inside contrasted sharply with the cold, damp air clinging to your clothes. You could feel the wet fabric clinging to your skin, making you wince slightly, but your attention was focused entirely on Sol. You couldn’t help but apologize for the mess you’d made. “I’m sorry about ruining your apartment,” you murmured softly, trying to keep your voice light.

Sol looked at you, his expression softening, and with a little tilt of his head, he replied, “It’s fine, pumpkin,” his voice gentle but filled with warmth. “I’ll make some soup for you. Go take a bath and relax.” He paused, clearly concerned for your well-being.

But you shook your head quickly, stubborn as ever. “No, I’m fine. I don’t need it.” You huffed, folding your arms in a little pout, looking at him with a half-hearted glare.

Sol raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by your refusal. “Are you sure? You’re wet, too.” He glanced down at you and then his own drenched clothes, his eyes flicking back up to meet yours. “It’s not a good idea to stay like this.”

You hesitated for a moment, then an idea popped into your head. Smirking mischievously, you stepped closer to him. “I’m not the only one who’s wet.” You tugged at the hem of his shirt, pulling it just enough to expose the tight muscles beneath.

Sol was caught off guard, stumbling forward slightly as the shirt pulled and he nearly fell into you. His face was suddenly inches from your chest, and his breath hitched, caught in a mix of surprise and something much more heated. You held him close, your arms wrapping around him, the warmth of your body soothing the chill that still lingered on his skin.

He was so cute in that moment, face flushed and body stiff, but still allowing you to hold him. He almost whined, the softness of his voice barely a whisper as he murmured, “Y-You’re… so close…” His chest rose and fell with every shaky breath he took, clearly affected by how close you were.

You couldn’t help but smile at his reaction, feeling a sense of triumph as he melted into your touch. He was usually so calm, so composed, but now, he was so vulnerable. It was almost as if you held the power to break down his walls completely. The way he whimpered, the way his face flushed with embarrassment—he was so cute.

“You’re so adorable, Sol,” you whispered into his ear, squeezing him tighter. “I’m not going anywhere.”

His eyes fluttered shut, a small, contented sigh escaping his lips. “I… I know,” he murmured faintly, his voice soft but full of warmth. “You’re mine…”

You smiled softly, leaning in to kiss his forehead.

You could feel the tension between you and Sol, the air thick with an intensity that was both intoxicating and thrilling. His shyness, his hesitation—everything about him right now was exactly how you wanted him to be. The way he leaned into your touch, the warmth of his body pressed against yours, the way his eyes sparkled with confusion and admiration—it was all so perfect. Your heart raced, your thoughts dizzying with the thought of him.

You smiled softly, your gaze locking onto his as you saw the way his pupils dilated, his breath quickening ever so slightly. There was a flicker in his eyes, something almost desperate, and that only made you want to drive him wild with even more affection. You needed to make him fall harder.

Leaning forward, you brushed your lips against his cheek softly, just a light kiss, then moved to his other cheek, and his jaw, kissing him in soft, slow motions, letting the intensity of each kiss linger. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, his pulse quickening in a way that only spurred your actions further.

His breath hitched, a tiny whimper escaping his lips as you pulled away for just a moment. His eyes were wide, pupils dilated with a mixture of longing and hesitation, and you couldn’t help but smile, the thrill of seeing him like this making your heart race.

“I think you like this, don’t you?” you whispered, teasing him as you gently cupped his face, feeling the warmth of his skin against your fingertips. You kissed him again, this time on his lips, more fervently than before. Your lips moved against his with a feverish hunger, wanting to consume every ounce of him.

He couldn’t stop himself from groaning softly into the kiss, his hands finding their way to your waist, pulling you even closer, his body trembling. His fingers flexed with barely contained desire, but it wasn’t just desire—it was obsession. You could see it in the way his grip tightened, in the way he held onto you like you were the only thing that mattered in this world.

Sol was obsessed—you knew it, and now he was helpless to hide it.

With every kiss you planted on his face, you felt him unravel just a little more. He was no longer the stoic, controlled man you had known. He was yours, body and soul. And you, oh, you were going to make sure he stayed that way.

His face flushed even more, his expression dazed, his eyes half-lidded with a love so deep, it almost seemed like it was suffocating him. His breathing was shallow, and his lips trembled as he tried to form words, but they only came out as a soft, desperate mumble, “Y-You’re… everything. Don’t leave me… please.”

Your lips curled into a slow smile, satisfied with how easily he was slipping into your grasp. You kissed him once more, this time lingering on his lips a little longer, before pulling back just enough to look into his eyes. Those eyes—those sweet, heart-shaped eyes—were all for you. Completely for you.

“I’m not going anywhere, Sol,” you murmured against his lips. “You’re mine. And I’ll never let you go. I’ll make sure of that.”

His grip on you tightened, his heart pounding as he pulled you into a desperate kiss once more.

You smiled softly, knowing you had him right where you wanted him—lost in his obsession, lost in you. And there was no going back now.

The bathroom was warm, steam curling in the air and soft droplets of water trickling down from the walls. You sat on the edge of the tub, a towel loosely draped around your body, watching Sol as he leaned back into the shallow water. His hair clung to his forehead, his cheeks faintly pink from the heat, and his shoulders glistened with droplets. For once, the usually put-together Sol looked vulnerable, stripped bare in more ways than one.

Your eyes wandered to his neck—the spot where his choker usually rested. Without it, the faint bruises and marks stood out on his skin Body, and your heart gave a quiet lurch. They were like shadows of something darker, and while you had questions—so many questions—you held them back. Sol was complex, his past layered with secrets, and you knew better than to push. What mattered wasn’t what the bruises meant, but that they were his. They were a part of him, and you adored every piece of Sol, scars and all.

Sol shifted under your gaze, his movements subtle but telling. He had noticed you looking. His fingers flexed against the tub’s edge, his posture tightening slightly as though he were bracing himself. “What?” he murmured, his voice quiet but tinged with nervousness. “You’ve been staring.”

You tilted your head and smiled, your expression soft and reassuring. “Just admiring you,” you said simply, your tone light but warm enough to wash away any tension that might’ve been building.

He huffed, averting his eyes, his face turning red. “Admiring?” He sounded skeptical, almost incredulous. “I look like a mess.”

You stood, your towel swishing softly as you approached the tub. “You always say that,” you teased gently, kneeling beside him. “And yet, somehow, you keep being wrong.”

He didn’t reply, though you caught the way his lips twitched like he was holding back a smile. His eyes darted to yours briefly, searching, before quickly looking away again. That was just like him—always reluctant to let you see how much your words affected him.

Your gaze fell to his body again. The bruises were darker up close, scattered unevenly along his skin. Some were fading, others still there, and your heart ached at the thought of what might’ve caused them. But as much as you hated the idea of him being hurt, you refused to let it overshadow the truth: bruises or not, Sol was beautiful. Every mark on his skin, every imperfection, every flaw—they were all his.

Reaching out slowly, you let your fingertips brush against his neck, featherlight. Sol tensed immediately, his eyes snapping to yours in alarm. “What are you—”

You silenced him with a kiss, your lips pressing softly against the corner of his mouth. It wasn’t about stopping his words; it was about showing him that there was nothing to fear. Your lips moved to his cheek, then his jaw, each kiss tender and unhurried. And then, finally, you kissed his neck, right over..

Don’t talk about it? It would hurt him.

Sol jolted, a sharp gasp escaping him as his hand flew up to your shoulder, not to push you away but to steady himself. His eyes were wide, his lips parted in shock, and you could feel the way his body trembled slightly under your touch. “W-What are you doing?” he whispered, his voice barely audible, shaky with something that wasn’t quite fear but wasn’t quite anything else either.

You didn’t answer. Instead, you kissed another bruise, and then another, your lips trailing softly along his neck. Each time, his reaction was the same—a quiet hitch of breath, a faint shiver, a look in his eyes that was equal parts bewildered and entranced. He didn’t stop you, though. If anything, his grip on your shoulder tightened, as if anchoring himself to you.

When you finally pulled back, your eyes met his, and you smiled. It wasn’t a teasing smile, nor was it one of pity. It was simply you, looking at him with all the warmth and love you could muster. “You’re beautiful, Sol,” you said softly, your voice steady and sincere. “Every part of you.”

His face crumpled slightly, his expression caught between disbelief and something far more vulnerable. “You… don’t care?” he asked, his voice so small it was almost a whisper.

You frowned, tilting your head. “Care about what?”

“The bruises, The-” he said, his hand moving to cover his neck instinctively. “They’re ugly, aren’t they? They make me look…”

“Human,” you finished for him, cutting off whatever self-deprecating thought was about to leave his lips. You reached out, gently prying his hand away from his neck and holding it in yours. “They make you look human. And I love that. I love you. Bruises, scars, everything. It’s you Sol.“

He stared at you, his eyes wide and glassy, like he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. Then, slowly, his lips curved into the faintest smile—a real one, not the awkward, forced grins he sometimes used to deflect. This smile was soft, genuine, and so filled with emotion that it made your chest ache.

“You’re… unbelievable,” he murmured, his voice thick with something you couldn’t quite place. He shook his head, his wet hair clinging to his forehead, and let out a soft laugh. “How do you do that?”

“Do what?” you asked, your tone playful as you leaned in closer.

“Make me fall for you all over again,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, all you could do was look at him, your chest swelling with so much love it felt like it might burst. Then, without a word, you leaned in and kissed him again, your lips moving against his with a tenderness that spoke louder than any words ever could.

Sol melted into the kiss, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing softly against your skin. When you finally pulled away, his eyes were hazy, his expression dazed but utterly content.

You leaned down, your breath ghosting over his skin, and kissed one softly. Sol tensed beneath you, his muscles twitching under your touch, and you smiled to yourself. He was so easy to unravel, and you loved it.

Your lips moved lower, trailing over the bruises with deliberate care, each kiss a whisper of devotion. But your movements weren’t entirely selfless—there was a dark satisfaction in watching him squirm, in hearing the soft gasps and shaky breaths he couldn’t suppress. You wanted him to need you, to crave you, to be as lost in you as you were in him.

“Y-You’re—ah—doing this on purpose,” Sol stammered, his voice trembling as his hand gripped the edge of the towel wrapped around his waist. His face was flushed, his breath uneven, and you could see the way he was struggling to hold himself together.

You didn’t answer. Instead, you kissed another bruise, just above his hip, and felt the way his body shivered in response. Your mind was swimming with thoughts—dark, possessive thoughts about how much you wanted him to belong to you entirely. Not just his body, but his mind, his heart, his soul. You wanted to consume him, to make him forget anything else existed but you.

But then, suddenly, he moved. Before you could react, Sol sat up and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. The abruptness of it snapped you out of your spiraling thoughts, and for a moment, all you could do was sit there, stunned, as he buried his face against your shoulder.

“Thank you,” he murmured, his voice muffled but heavy with emotion. “Thank you for… accepting me.”

His words hit you like a wave, washing over the darker corners of your mind and leaving something softer in their wake. You blinked, your hands instinctively moving to rest against his back as his grip on you tightened. He was trembling slightly, and you realized that this wasn’t just a hug—it was a lifeline.

“I… I’ve always hated these,” Sol admitted, his voice quiet but raw. “The bruises, the scars… Every bruise was worth it. I thought… I thought when you see them would think I was… ” His voice cracked on the last word, and you felt your chest tighten painfully.

You didn’t say anything, but your arms tightened around him, your hand moving in slow, soothing circles over his back. He sighed, the sound shaky but relieved, and pulled back just enough to look at you. His eyes were glassy, his expression vulnerable in a way that made your heart ache.

“But you don’t see me like that,” he continued, his voice steadier now. “You don’t treat me like I’m… less because of them. And that means more to me than I can ever say.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, and for a moment, you felt like you couldn’t breathe. You’d always known Sol had his own darkness, his own pain, but hearing it laid bare like this was almost too much. And yet, at the same time, it made you love him even more—not just the parts of him that were easy to love, but the parts that were messy and complicated and broken.

But that scared you. Because as much as you loved his obsessive side, as much as you reveled in the way he clung to you, you were terrified of falling for him completely. Fully. You weren’t sure you could handle that—weren’t sure what it would mean if you did.

Sol was watching you, his gaze searching, and you forced yourself to smile, leaning in to kiss his ear softly. The reaction was instant—he gasped, his body jerking slightly as his hands tightened on your waist. “Y-You can’t just—” he started, but his words were cut off as you kissed him again, this time lower, just below his ear.

“You’re so easy to kill with affection.” you murmured, your voice low but tinged with teasing affection. His cheeks turned an even deeper shade of red, and you couldn’t help but smile.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the only sound in the room the faint drip of water from the faucet. Then, quietly, you mumbled, “Thank you.”

Sol blinked, clearly caught off guard. “What?” he asked, his tone soft but curious.

You pulled back slightly, meeting his gaze, and smiled again. “Thank you for existing,” you said simply. And then, before he could respond, you pressed a soft kiss to his lips, cutting off any words he might’ve tried to say.

Sol didn’t speak again after that. He didn’t need to. The way he held you, the way he looked at you—

The bathwater rippled softly as you guided Sol to sit down in front of you, his towel still loosely draped around his waist. He obeyed without hesitation, his long hair cascading down his back like a silken curtain. His trust in you was absolute, and it made your heart race in the quiet intimacy of the moment. The thought of him being so compliant, so willing to let you care for him, stirred something darkly possessive within you.

With a gentleness that belied the turmoil in your chest, you reached for the shampoo, pouring a generous amount into your hands before running your fingers through his damp hair. Sol sighed softly at the sensation, leaning into your touch as you worked the lather through his locks. His hair was thick and slightly tangled from the water, but you didn’t mind. In fact, you relished every second of it—each tangle you smoothed out felt like another piece of him you were unraveling, another part of him that was undeniably yours.

Your fingers massaged his scalp, his body relaxed further, his shoulders slumping slightly as a soft sigh escaped his lips. The sound was so sweet, so achingly tender, that it sent a thrill through you. You leaned forward without thinking, pressing a kiss to his forehead. His skin was warm beneath your lips, and he made a small, almost contented noise in response. It was domestic in a way you hadn’t expected, and the realization made your chest tighten.

You could feel your thoughts beginning to spiral again, the possessiveness bubbling up as you watched him sit there so obediently, so sweetly. Sol wasn’t just letting you care for him—he was surrendering to you completely, trusting you in a way that no one else ever had. And God, how you loved it. The sight of him like this, vulnerable and utterly at your mercy, made something primal and obsessive stir deep within you.

He was yours. He had to be. No one else could ever see him like this, touch him like this. You wouldn’t allow it.

“Sol,” you murmured, your voice low and husky as you continued to work the shampoo through his hair. He hummed in response, tilting his head slightly to the side as if to give you better access. The gesture was so unthinking, so natural, that it made your breath hitch.

“You’re perfect like this,” you said softly, almost to yourself. He didn’t respond, but the slight flush that crept up the back of his neck told you he’d heard. You leaned down again, pressing another kiss to the crown of his head before rinsing the shampoo out of his hair. The water ran down his back in rivulets, and you couldn’t resist trailing your fingers along the path it made, watching as his skin shivered under your touch.

“You’re spoiling me,” Sol said after a moment, his voice quiet but tinged with affection.

“You deserve it,” you replied simply, reaching for the conditioner. You poured some into your hands before running your fingers through his hair again, taking your time as you worked it in. Sol sighed softly, the sound so content and trusting that it made your chest ache.

It felt almost too good to be true, this moment with him. You’d always loved his obsessive devotion to you, the way he clung to you like you were the only thing keeping him grounded. But now, sitting here with him, washing his hair and hearing the soft sounds of his breathing, you realized something terrifying: you weren’t just obsessed with him. You loved him. Fully, completely, and with a depth that scared you.

You reached for the soap, lathering it in your hands as you gestured for Sol to sit still. His body glistened with water under the soft light of the bathroom, and as you began to wash him, your fingers trailing over his shoulders, he let out a soft sigh. His head tilted slightly, his long hair cascading over one side as if to give you better access.

“Relax,” you murmured, a small, knowing smile playing on your lips. He obeyed immediately, his body pliant under your touch. The sight of him like this—his skin warm and damp, his eyes fluttering shut—sent a quiet thrill through you. You’d never tire of how easily he surrendered to you, how completely he trusted you.

Your hands glided down his arms, the lather spreading as you worked it over his skin. His breathing slowed, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm as if he were falling into a trance. You took your time, letting your fingers explore every curve and line of his body, as though committing it all to memory. When your hands brushed over his chest, you felt the soft hitch in his breath, the faint quiver of his muscles beneath your touch.

“Sol,” you teased, your voice soft but playful. “Are you falling asleep on me?”

“N-No,” he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. His eyes remained closed, and a faint blush crept up his neck.

You chuckled, the sound low and intimate as your hands trailed lower, over his ribs and toward his stomach. His body shivered under your touch, and you couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride at how responsive he was to you. Sol was like putty in your hands, utterly enchanted by your touch.

But just as you let your fingers glide over the taut planes of his stomach, spreading the lather in slow, deliberate circles, his eyes shot open. The spell broke, and he blinked at you as if he’d just realized what was happening.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice tinged with both embarrassment and something softer, something deeper.

You grinned, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you leaned in closer. “What?” you asked innocently, your hands still trailing over his skin. “I’m just making sure you’re clean.”

His blush deepened, spreading across his cheeks and down his neck as he averted his gaze. “Y-You’re too good at this,” he muttered, his voice barely audible.

You laughed softly, the sound warm and teasing as you reached up to cup his face. “Sol,” you murmured, your voice dropping into something softer, more intimate. “You’re adorable.”

His eyes flicked back to yours, wide and uncertain, and for a moment, he looked so vulnerable, so utterly disarmed, that your heart skipped a beat. But then the mischievous glint returned to your eyes, and you leaned in, pressing a quick, playful kiss to the tip of his nose.

He let out a startled noise, his blush deepening even further as he stared at you, utterly flustered. “W-What was that for?” he asked, his voice high-pitched and incredulous.

You shrugged, a sly smile curling your lips as you reached for the water to rinse him off. “Just because,” you replied simply.

The water cascaded over his skin, washing away the soap as your hands followed the trail of the water. He shivered again, his body instinctively leaning into your touch despite his obvious embarrassment. When you were finished, you grabbed a towel and began patting him dry, taking your time as you worked your way from his shoulders down to his arms and chest.

Sol squirmed slightly under your touch, his blush still burning brightly as he mumbled, “You’re treating me like a kid.”

You grinned, tilting your head to the side as you looked at him. “Oh? Is that so?” you teased, patting his cheeks with the towel.

“Stop!” he protested, his voice flustered as he tried to swat your hands away.

But you didn’t stop. Instead, you leaned in closer, your smile turning downright mischievous as you patted his face even more, the towel brushing against his warm, flushed skin. “You’re too cute when you’re embarrassed, Sol,” you said, your voice full of teasing affection.

He groaned, burying his face in his hands as he mumbled, “You’re impossible.”

You laughed, the sound light and genuine as you ruffled his hair with the towel. “And you’re spoiled,” you shot back, your tone playful but fond.

When you finally pulled back, letting him breathe, you noticed how he avoided your gaze, his blush still firmly in place. He looked so sweet, so utterly flustered, that you couldn’t resist leaning in one last time, pressing a soft kiss to his temple.

The air was warm after the bath, the scent of lavender soap lingering as Sol wrapped a towel around himself and turned toward you. His damp hair clung to his neck and shoulders, his expression soft as he stepped closer and, without warning, pulled you into a hug. The embrace was firm, grounding, and for a moment, you melted into his arms.

Before you could do anything more—tease him, pull him closer, or whisper something playful—he scooped you up and dropped you gently onto the bed. Your body bounced slightly against the mattress, and you looked up at him, smirking.

“You’re bold,” you teased, reaching for him instinctively. Your hands brushed his wrist as you tried to tug him down toward you, but he hesitated, stepping back. The way his ears turned red betrayed him, though.

You sighed softly, letting your hands fall to your sides. “Alright, alright,” you murmured, slipping off the bed and heading to grab some clothes. You rifled through the pile of garments he had stolen—or rather, borrowed—during his… more obsessive days, you found a hoodie of yours that you recognized instantly. It was one of your favorites, worn and soft, and it smelled faintly of detergent and something uniquely Sol.

It was obvious he had cleaned it meticulously, almost reverently. That thought alone sent a small shiver through you as you pulled it over your head. It hung loose and comfortable, perfectly worn in. You smiled, shaking your head softly. Of course, he’d take care of it so well. Sol, with all his odd little habits and quirks, always had a way of surprising you.

Beneath the hoodie, you slipped into your undergarments, feeling comfortable enough in the privacy of his room. Though you spotted pants folded neatly nearby, you ignored them. You were decent enough, and the hoodie covered what it needed to.

The room was cozy, his scent mingling with the fresh linen and faint hints of candle wax. You flopped onto the bed, burying your face in his pillow. It smelled so much like him that it made your chest tighten in a way you weren’t prepared for. Your arms curled around it instinctively, hugging it close as you let yourself relax.

Sol excused himself to dress, leaving you momentarily alone. Your eyes wandered, they landed on the walls. Among the minimalist decorations were posters of classic horror stories—The Headless Horseman and a strikingly eerie illustration inspired by the Grimm brothers’ fairy tales.

You smiled softly. Of course, Sol would have a taste for horror fiction. There was something so fitting about it, considering how quiet and unassuming he could be, yet with that darker edge lurking beneath his calm demeanor. You liked it. More than that, you liked that it was such a unique part of him.

When Sol returned, his hair still damp but neatly combed, his gaze immediately darted toward you. His eyes widened slightly at the sight of you sprawled on his bed, his pillow hugged tightly to your chest, wearing his hoodie.

“Uh… I-I can make some soup,” he stammered, his voice awkward and shy. His eyes flicked away from you as though looking directly at you was too much. “If… you want something warm.”

You propped yourself up on your elbow, grinning mischievously. “That sounds nice,” you replied, your voice light. Then, you noticed his gaze drop briefly before he looked away again, his blush deepening.

“If you need pants, I… I could give you a pair,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his neck.

You laughed softly, sitting up and adjusting the hoodie. “I’ve got undergarments on,” you said, winking at him. “I’m not naked, Sol.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair as though trying to compose himself. “You’re impossible,” he muttered, but his lips curved into the faintest of smiles.

Instead of heading for the kitchen, he sat down beside you on the bed, his shoulders tense. His gaze flicked to the posters on the wall as if trying to avoid meeting your eyes.

“You seem tired,” he said softly, his voice quieter now.

You tilted your head, studying him for a moment before deciding to ask. “The posters,” you said, nodding toward the wall. “You like horror fiction?”

He froze slightly, his lips parting as though he wasn’t sure how to respond. Then, with a soft sigh, he nodded. “Yeah. It’s… something I’ve always liked,” he admitted.

You smiled, leaning against the headboard. “I already knew,” you said casually, your tone light.

His head snapped toward you, his eyes wide with a mix of surprise and apprehension.

“Don’t worry,” you continued, your voice calm and reassuring. “I’ve stalked you too, Sol.”

“Oh, I keep…”

You shifted closer to him, your smile softening. “I still can’t believe we’re together,” you said quietly, almost as if speaking the words to yourself. “It feels… like a dream.”

Sol’s gaze flicked toward you, his expression unreadable for a moment before he looked away, a faint blush dusting his cheeks. But then, he smiled—a small, shy smile that made your heart ache.

Without thinking, you reached for him, pulling him into a hug. His head rested against your chest, and you let your fingers trail through his damp hair.

“You’re too sweet,” you murmured, your voice teasing but filled with affection.

He didn’t say anything, but the way he melted into your embrace told you everything you needed to know.

You began to toy with his hair, gathering it into your hands and tying it into a loose ponytail. The strands were silky and soft between your fingers, and you couldn’t resist brushing them aside to press a kiss to his forehead.

“Why do you like me?” he asked suddenly, his voice barely above a whisper.

The question caught you off guard, and for a moment, you were silent, your hands stilling in his hair. Then, you smiled, your lips curving into something soft and tender.

“It doesn’t matter,” you said simply, leaning down to press another kiss to his forehead.

He looked up at you, his eyes wide and searching, but he didn’t press further. Instead, he smiled.

Sol settled against you, the closeness between you became almost unbearable. His head rested on your chest, the soft rise and fall of your breathing syncing as though you were two halves of a whole. Slowly, his hand reached out, brushing against yours tentatively at first, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed this level of intimacy.

But when your fingers curled instinctively around his, his hesitation melted. His hand tightened around yours, his thumb brushing softly against your knuckles in a silent reassurance. His warmth radiated into you, and you couldn’t help but sigh softly.

Then, without a word, he shifted slightly. His legs intertwined with yours, his movements slow and careful as if testing the waters. The heat of his skin against yours sent a shiver up your spine, and you had to bite your lip to keep from making a sound.

“Sol,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

He looked up at you, his eyes soft yet intense, his expression unreadable. His head tilted slightly, and before you could say anything else, he leaned closer. His forehead rested against yours, his damp hair falling slightly over his face.

The way he looked at you, so full of quiet devotion, made your heart race. Your breaths mingled, and the air between you felt thick with something unspoken.

“Is this okay?” he murmured, his voice so soft it was almost a breath.

You didn’t trust your voice, so you nodded, your eyes fluttering shut as you let yourself sink into the moment.

His hand tightened slightly around yours, and his leg shifted, pressing more firmly against yours. The closeness was overwhelming, intoxicating, and you couldn’t help the soft noise that escaped your lips—a quiet, almost inaudible moan that you couldn’t suppress.

Sol froze for a moment, his eyes wide as he pulled back slightly to look at you. His face was flushed, his lips parted in surprise.

“Did you just—?” he began, his voice tinged with both surprise and embarrassment.

You felt your cheeks heat up, and you quickly averted your gaze, trying to brush it off. “Don’t get too cocky,” you muttered, your voice laced with playful annoyance.

But he didn’t let it go. A small, mischievous smile tugged at his lips, and he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear. “Was that because of me?”

“What was that sound?” he asked softly, as if he wasn’t sure whether it was intentional or not, but he was enjoying the effect it had on you.

Your heart raced, and you almost cursed yourself for how easily he could reduce you to a mess of emotions. You bit your lip, trying to keep quiet, but it was becoming harder by the second.

His hand slid down to your neck, gently pressing against the sensitive skin there. His thumb stroked over your pulse point, and you couldn’t hold back the soft gasp that escaped your lips.

Sol’s eyes widened slightly as your breath hitched, his grip tightening ever so slightly. “Is that… making you nervous?” he asked, voice dripping with mischief.

You turned your head to the side, avoiding his gaze, but his fingers remained on your neck, steadying you. You felt the tension between you, the way his presence seemed to wrap around you like a gentle, but inescapable, force.

His chuckle rumbled softly in his chest, and you could feel it against your skin as he leaned in once more. “You’re cute when you try to hide it,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear.

Another involuntary noise slipped from your lips—a soft whimper that you couldn’t control.

Sol’s smirk deepened, and he pulled back just enough to catch your eye. “So sensitive,” he murmured, almost like a revelation. “I didn’t think I’d get you this flustered so easily.”

Your face flushed with embarrassment, but you couldn’t find it in you to pull away from him. You were stuck in a whirlwind of emotions, of desires you didn’t want to face. It was so easy for him to turn your insides into a tangled mess with just a few touches, a few words.

He leaned in again, pressing a soft kiss to your ear, then your jaw, trailing down to your neck. Each kiss was slow, deliberate, and it made your heart beat faster. With every movement, he pushed you closer to the edge of restraint, knowing just how far to go before pulling back.

“You’re making it hard for me to resist,” he whispered, his voice low and filled with longing. “But I think you like this, don’t you?”

“Sol…” you breathed, and you couldn’t help but sound desperate. You hated how easily he had you on the edge, how quickly he could make you lose control of yourself.

He smiled softly, sensing the change in your tone. “You’re mine,” he said, his voice just above a whisper, but it felt like a declaration. His words wrapped around you, and the possessiveness in his voice made your heart race even more.

You couldn’t find words, couldn’t fight the overwhelming desire that was building between you both. You could feel his pulse quicken, his breath becoming more erratic, and you knew that you were both slipping further into something you couldn’t pull back from.

Sol’s hand slid down your back, pulling you closer once more. You gasped, the closeness of your bodies making everything feel more intense, more urgent. You could feel his lips on your skin again, each kiss deeper than the last.

Sol’s fingers danced along your spine, sending tingles through your body with each light caress. He leaned in close, his warm breath ghosting over your ear as he whispered, “I’m going to make you feel so good, Pumpkin.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you let out a soft moan, arching into his touch. Sol chuckled, the vibrations causing your sensitive skin to prickle with delight. “Like that, huh?” he teased, nipping playfully at your earlobe.

His other hand came up to cup your cheek, turning your face towards his. Your lips met in a slow, sensual kiss, tongues dancing together in a heated dance. Sol’s hands roamed your body, tracing the curves of your hips and thighs before sliding up under your hoodie to explore the smooth expanse of your stomach.

“Ah-”

Sol’s fingers trailed lower, dipping beneath the hem of your skirt to brush against the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh. He smiled against your mouth, feeling your muscles tense in anticipation. “Patience, my dear,” he cooed, his breath hot against your skin.

Slowly, deliberately, his hand crept higher, until his fingertips grazed the damp fabric of your panties. You cried out, your hips jerking involuntarily as electric pleasure zapped through you. Sol’s eyes darkened with lust at the sound of your desperation, and he pressed a final, teasing kiss to your lips before pulling back.

“Shh, relax,” he soothed, his voice low and husky. “Let me take care of you.” With a deft motion, he teases your sex, baring you completely to his hungry gaze.

Sol’s eyes gleamed with wicked intent as He raked over your exposed sex, drinking in the sight of your exposed….. Without warning, He dipped between your thighs, spreading you open further for their exploration.

“Ahhh!” you gasped, back arching off the bed as their skilled fingers found your most sensitive spots. They stroke? circled? applying just the right amount of pressure to send waves of ecstasy crashing through you.

Sol’s free hand slid up your body to palm one of your chest, rolling the nipple between his fingers as they continued their relentless assault on your clit. The dual sensations were almost too much to bear, and you felt yourself teetering on the edge of a precipice, desperate for release.

“You’re so responsive,” Sol murmured, their voice a husky growl of approval. “I can’t wait to see you come undone.”

Sol groaned, his fingers faltering in their delicious torment of your clit as you suddenly turned the tables, your small hands wrapping around his neck and pulling him down into a searing kiss. Your tongue dueled with theirs, a playful dominance asserting itself even as your laughter bubbled up from within you.

When you finally broke the kiss, panting and grinning up at Sol, there was a mischievous glint in your eye. “Did you have fun, hmm?” you teased, your fingers trailing down his chest to wrap around the thick length of his erection. Sol’s breath hitched, his hips bucking instinctively into your touch.

“Oh, I think it’s time we even the score,” you giggled, giving his cock a squeeze that made him grunt. Your hands moved with frantic energy, stroking and twisting, exploring every inch of his heated flesh.

Sol’s eyes rolled back in bliss as your skilled hands worked their magic, coaxing his member to full, throbbing hardness. Each stroke sent jolts of electric pleasure coursing through his veins, making him tremble with anticipation.

Your fingers danced along the sensitive underside, teasing the frenulum until it twitched beneath your touch. Then, with a wicked grin, you wrapped your thumb around the head, applying just the right amount of pressure to make him see stars. Sol’s hips jerked erratically, seeking more of your tantalizing friction.

Lost in the haze of lust, he tangled his fingers in your hair, tugging gently as he guided your mouth closer to his aching cock. “Please,” he begged, his voice husky with need. “I want to feel those sweet lips around me.”

Despite Sol’s pleas, you continued to deny him direct contact, instead focusing on tormenting his neck with tender bites and languid kisses. His whimpering only seemed to encourage you, fueling the fire burning within.

With a particularly sharp nip to his jugular, you murmured against his skin, “Not yet, my love. We’re going to take this nice and slow.” Your hot breath ghosted over his pulse point, causing it to race further out of control.

Sol’s body tensed, straining for release even as he knew it was futile. The combination of your teasing touch and maddening kisses had him teetering on the edge, desperate for more. But you remained resolute, determined to draw out his pleasure until he was writhing in ecstasy.

Sol’s breath came in ragged gasps as you toyed with him, your fingers tracing patterns along the shaft of his cock while your lips left a trail of love bites across his throat. Each delicate touch and nip sent shockwaves of desire rippling through him, threatening to shatter his composure.

“Please, Pumpkin,” he whimpered, his voice cracking with desperation. “I can't… I need…”

But you simply chuckled, the vibrations humming against his skin as you peppered his neck with open-mouthed kisses. Your hand slid lower, cupping the heavy weight of his balls and rolling them gently between your fingers.

Sol’s knees nearly buckled at the sensation, his mind clouding with pleasure.

Sol’s body shook like a leaf in a storm as you expertly manipulated his most sensitive areas. The gentle caress of your fingers against his testicles sent waves of euphoria crashing over him, each passing second drawing him closer to the brink of climax.

“Y/n…” he groaned, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m so close… Don’t stop, please…”

Despite his urgent pleas, you continued to tease and torment him, refusing to grant him the release he so desperately craved. Your fingers tightened around his balls, applying just the right amount of pressure to keep him hovering on the precipice of orgasm.

Sol’s hips bucked wildly, seeking friction anywhere he could get it. His cock throbbed in your grasp, the head a deep, pulsating purple as it strained towards your palm.

With a sudden, decisive movement, you pulled your hand away from Sol’s aching cock, leaving him bereft and shaking with unfulfilled need. He let out a strangled cry, his body arching off the bed as if trying to follow the path of your retreating fingers.

“No, wait!” Sol pleaded, his voice raw with desperation. “Don’t stop now, please!”

But you merely smiled enigmatically, your gaze locked onto his tortured expression. Slowly, deliberately, you began to remove your clothes, revealing inch after inch of creamy, unblemished skin.

Sol’s eyes widened, drinking in the sight of your naked form. His gaze lingered, the gentle curve of your waist, and the tantalizing hint of your sex peeking out from between your thighs.

Sol watched, transfixed, you slipped out of your remaining garments, leaving yourself bare and beautiful before him. His breath caught in his throat at the breathtaking sight, and he couldn’t help but drool slightly in anticipation.

But instead of closing the distance and indulging in the carnal delights offered, you suddenly adopted a playful, domineering tone. “Now, pet, it’s time for your punishment,” you declared, a wicked gleam in your eye.

Without warning, you grasped Sol’s wrists and pinned them above his head, holding him in place with an iron grip. “Be a good boy and accept what’s coming to you,” you cooed, your voice dripping with mock sweetness.

Leaning in close, you whispered hotly against his ear, “Good boy, Sol. Such a naughty, needy little pup, aren’t you?”

Sol’s eyes widened in confusion and frustration as you giggled, the sound like music to his ears despite the torment you were inflicting upon him. “What…what are you doing?” he stammered, his chest heaving with exertion.

Just as he thought you might finally give in to his desperate needs, you leaned down and wrapped your fingers around his throbbing cock once more. Sol’s back arched off the bed, a guttural moan escaping his lips as your warm touch enveloped him.

But then, you spoke, your voice low and commanding. “Remember, pet, you’re not allowed to cum. Not until I say so.”

Sol’s mind reeled, struggling to comprehend the twisted game you were playing. His body, however, responded instinctively, already tensing and preparing for the inevitable release.

Sol’s world tilted on its axis as your plush lips closed around the head of his cock, your tongue darting out to lick the sensitive underside. He cried out, his fingers digging into the sheets as he fought the urge to thrust deeper into the heavenly warmth of your mouth.

“P-pumpkin, oh god, yes!” he gasped, his voice a hoarse whisper. “More, please, I need…”

But even as the plea left his lips, you pulled back, denying him the intense pleasure he so desperately craved. Your lips hovered just inches from his aching flesh, and you looked up at him with a mischievous glint in your eye.

“Not yet, pet,” you purred, your breath ghosting over his sensitive tip. “We’re going to take this slow and savor every moment.”

With a sly smile, you resumed your sensual assault on Sol’s cock, lavishing attention on the throbbing length with your lips, tongue, and teeth. Each kiss, each lap of your tongue, sent jolts of electricity coursing through his veins, driving him closer to the edge.

Your hands roamed his body, exploring every contour and crevice with a hungry curiosity. Fingers danced across his nipples, tweaking and tugging until they pebbled beneath your touch. Lower still, you traced the lines of his abs, dipping into his navel before continuing downward to tease the sensitive skin behind his balls.

Sol’s moans grew louder, more desperate, as you worked him over with skillful precision. His hips bucked reflexively, seeking more of your tantalizing touches, but you held firm, maintaining control over the pace of his pleasure.

“Please, Y/n, I can't… It’s too much,” he begged, his voice breaking on a sob. “Hurry, make me cum, I need it so badly!”

Sol’s entire being was consumed by the overwhelming sensations coursing through him. His muscles clenched and released in rhythmic spasms, searching for purchase as his mind fogged with lust. Whimpers and gasps spilled from his lips, punctuating the air with his desperate need for release.

Despite his impassioned pleas, you continued your deliberate, torturous pace. Your mouth slid up and down his shaft, coating it in saliva as you hummed a seductive melody against his sensitive skin. Meanwhile, your fingers pressed insistently against his virgin hole, coaxing it open ever so slightly.

Sol’s vision blurred, his senses overwhelmed by the dual stimuli.

Just as Sol was about to surrender to the impending orgasm, you abruptly ceased all contact, leaving him aching and empty. He whined in protest, his hips jerking erratically as he struggled to process the sudden withdrawal of pleasure.

“No, no, no!” you chided gently, your voice a soothing balm amidst the turmoil. “Not yet, my love. We have to hold it for me, okay?”

Sol’s gaze snapped to yours, desperation etched across his features. “But why?….” he asked, his words slurring together in his haste to understand.

You reached out, cupping his cheek tenderly. “Because I want to see how far we can push ourselves, darling. How deep our love can go when we’re willing to explore the darkest, most forbidden corners of desire.”

With a sultry smirk, you returned to worshipping Sol’s cock, your lips sealing around the swollen head once more. He groaned, his fingers tangling in your hair as you began to suckle him with renewed vigor.

Your tongue swirled around the sensitive crown, lapping up the precum that had begun to leak in response to your teasing. The taste of his arousal filled your mouth, a heady elixir that only served to heighten your own desire.

You bobbed your head along his length, your free hand resumed its exploration of Sol’s body. Fingers trailed down his stomach, circling his navel before delving lower to stroke the delicate skin behind his testicles.

Sol’s thighs trembled, his legs falling open wider in invitation.

Sol’s body was a living, breathing flame, every inch of him burning with need as you continued to worship his cock with your skilled mouth. Your lips and tongue worked in perfect harmony, drawing out moans and whimpers of pure bliss from his tortured soul.

The sensation of your fingers dancing across his skin, tracing patterns of pleasure, only added fuel to the inferno raging within him. His hips rocked involuntarily, seeking more of your tantalizing touch, even as he struggled to maintain control over his rapidly unraveling composure.

“fuck, your mouth feels incredible,” Sol gasped, his voice strained with the effort of holding back his climax. “I don’t know how much longer I can… Ahh, god, yes, just like that!”

Sol’s cries of pleasure echoed through the room, a symphony of desperation and need. His body shook like a leaf, every muscle tensed and coiled as he teetered on the precipice of ecstasy. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, his vision blurring with the intensity of his emotions.

“Oh, please, I can't… I’m going to…!” he wailed, his voice high-pitched and trembling. The pitiful sounds of his sobs and whimpers mingled with the wet slap of your lips on his cock, creating a perverse harmony of lust and anguish.

“Now, Sol, give it to me,” you commanded softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “Cum for me, my love.”

At your words, Sol’s control shattered. With a hoarse cry, he exploded, his hot seed spurting into your eagerly waiting mouth. You swallowed every drop, relishing the salty-sweet taste of his release as it coated your tongue.

Sol’s orgasm subsided, you released his softening cock from your lips with a gentle pop. A shiver ran through you at the sight of his spent form, his chest heaving with exertion. Almost imperceptibly, a whimper escaped your own lips, a sound of raw, unbridled desire that seemed to come from the very depths of your being.

Sol stared at you in awe, his glazed eyes drinking in the sight of your cum-streaked lips and flushed cheeks. A soft, dazed murmur escaped his lips as he tried to process the intensity of what had just transpired between you.

“That was… incredible,” he breathed, his voice shaky and laced with wonder. “Seeing you take my cum like that, smiling at me with your mouth still full of it…”

He trailed off, his gaze fixating on your tongue as it lazily licked across your lower lip, cleaning away the remnants of his essence. The erotic display sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through Sol’s veins, leaving him feeling weak and utterly spent.

His legs gave out, and he collapsed onto the bed, his body limp and pliant beneath the covers.

Sol lay there, lost in the aftermath of his intense climax, you crawled onto the bed beside him, your movements slow and sensual. You leaned in close, your warm breath ghosting across his skin as you whispered huskily in his ear.

Your hand drifted down his torso, tracing the contours of his abdomen before dipping lower to brush against the sensitive flesh of his inner thigh. Sol’s eyelids fluttered shut, a soft sigh escaping his parted lips as he surrendered to your touch.

Sol’s senses were overwhelmed by the intoxicating aroma of your skin, the scent of your very essence enveloping him like a comforting embrace. It was a fragrance unlike anything else, a unique blend that spoke directly to his soul, igniting a primal hunger within him.

His nostrils flared, drawing in deeper breaths as he inhaled the heady musk. It was a smell that made his heart race, his pulse pound, and his loins throb with desperate need. This was the scent of his soulmate, the one thing capable of reducing him to a panting, whimpering mess.

Sol groaned, his voice thick with lust. “Your smell is driving me crazy. I need to bury my face in you, to lose myself in it forever.”

With a wicked grin, you pressed closer, allowing Sol to breathe in your scent more deeply. His hands instinctively reached for you, eager to pull you flush against his heated body, but you deftly evaded his grasp, trailing your fingers along his skin instead.

In an instant, you found yourself on your back, Sol looming above you with a triumphant glint in his eye. His hands pinned your wrists to the mattress, holding you in place as he towered over your prone form.

“What did you expect, Ame?” he growled, his voice low and menacing. “After the way you tormented me today, leaving me a sobbing, cum-drunk mess, you thought you could escape retribution?”

Sol’s free hand slid down your stomach, his fingers tracing the curve of your hip before dipping lower, seeking the heat between your thighs. You shivered, a gasp escaping your lips his touch sending jolts of electricity through your nervous system.

“You deserve this, every tease and taunt coming back tenfold,”

Your eyes widened in shock. You squirmed beneath him, trying to wriggle free from his grip, but he held fast, his gaze burning into yours with a fierce intensity.

“No, wait!” you stammered, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and arousal. “I didn’t mean it like that, I swear! I just…got carried away, okay? It wasn’t supposed to lead to this!”

Sol’s expression softened slightly, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes as he listened to your frantic protests. He released your wrists, allowing you to move, but only to slide his hand further up your thigh, pushing your skirt higher in the process.

“Oh, I think it’s exactly what you wanted,” he countered, his tone gentle yet persuasive.

“Don’t try to deny it, Pumpkin,” Sol murmured, his fingers brushing against the damp lace of your panties. “Your body’s reaction tells a different story. You’re just as desperate for this as I am.”

Without waiting for a response, Sol leaned down, his hot breath fanning over your sensitive flesh as he pressed open-mouthed kisses along your inner thigh. Each tender touch sent sparks racing up your spine, leaving you quivering and aching for more.

“Sol…” you whimpered, your hips bucking involuntarily as his warm breath ghosted over your most intimate area. The sudden onslaught of sensations had your mind reeling, thoughts scattering like leaves in a storm.

“It’s not fair, I swear!” you managed to gasp out between moans, even as your body betrayed your words, arching into Sol’s ministrations. “We were just…playing around, having fun! This isn’t part of the game!”

Despite your protests, your fingers threaded through Sol’s hair, urging him closer, silently begging for more of that exquisite torture. The conflicting emotions warring within you - guilt, excitement, need - created a dizzying cocktail that left you breathless and helpless beneath his skilled touch.

Sol chuckled darkly, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine as he continued his sensual assault. “Oh, but it feels so good, doesn’t it?” he purred, his tongue darting out to taste your essence, savoring the tangy sweetness of your arousal.

You cried out, your back bowing off the bed as Sol worked you open, claiming you as his own.

“That’s it, ” he coaxed, his voice a seductive rumble. “Let me in, let me make you mine.”

You felt your mind clouding, thoughts fragmenting into nothingness. All that remained was the intense pleasure coursing through your veins, the overwhelming urge to surrender completely to the man dominating your body.

“Y-yes, Sol, please,” you begged, your voice barely recognizable, consumed by a possessive fervor. “Make me yours, fill me up, mark me as your own!”

In your haze, you couldn’t bear the thought of anyone else experiencing Sol’s touch, his passion. The very idea sent a surge of jealous rage through your bloodstream, fueling your desperation to claim him just as fiercely.

“I’m yours, only yours,” you declared, your nails raking down Sol’s back as you pulled him closer, crushing your mouth to his in a bruising kiss.

Sol groaned into the kiss, his tongue plundering your mouth with wild abandon as he drove his fingers deeper, hitting that sweet spot within you that made stars explode behind your eyelids. Your body convulsed, a scream tearing from your throat as the first wave of your climax crashed over you.

But Sol wasn’t done yet. He withdrew his fingers, leaving you empty and aching, before replacing them with his thick cock. With a single powerful thrust, he buried himself to your aching hole, stretching you wide around his girth.

“Ahhh fuck, you feel incredible,” he rasped, his hips beginning to piston in and out at a relentless pace. “So tight, so perfect. Mine.”

he pounded into you, Sol’s hands gripped your hips hard enough to leave bruises, marking you as his territory.

“Please, Sol, harder!” you pleaded, your voice ragged with desire and something deeper, more primal. “Fill me up, make me yours forever!”

With a guttural growl, Sol obliged, his thrusts becoming brutal and unrelenting as he chased his own release. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, punctuated by your cries of ecstasy.

Just as Sol’s movements became erratic, signaling his impending climax, he paused, his cock still buried deep within you. He cupped your face in his hands, forcing you to meet his intense gaze.

You were lost in the throes of passion, your body writhing beneath Sol’s, when his movements suddenly halted. Confused, you opened your eyes to find him staring intently at you, his piercing gaze searching your features.

“Y/n..” he prompted, his voice low and urgent. “Will we make a good family, together always?”

The question hung in the air, heavy with meaning, until the shrill ring of a phone shattered the moment. Sol cursed under his breath, pulling out of you and reaching for the device on the nightstand.

You watched, bewildered, as he answered the call, his expression darkening with each passing second. His jaw clenched, and a vein pulsed in his temple, betraying his growing anger.

“Who is it?” you finally managed to ask, though you already suspected the answer based on Sol’s reaction.

Sol ended the call abruptly, tossing the phone aside with a snarl. He turned to you, his eyes blazing with a fierce, possessive light.

“Crowe,” he spat, his voice dripping with venom. “Thinks he can just call here, now? After everything? Didn’t you stop talking to him? Why is he bothering you..?”

Before you could respond, Sol’s lips crashed against your neck, biting down hard enough to draw blood. You gasped, a mix of pain and pleasure coursing through you as he claimed you once more.

Sol’s jealousy was palpable, a living thing that wrapped around you both, squeezing tight. In that moment, you reveled in it, in the knowledge that Crowe’s interference had sparked such a raw, primal reaction in your lover.

“You’re mine,” Sol growled against your skin, his teeth scraping lightly over the wound he’d inflicted.

Sol’s grip on your waist tightened, his fingers digging into your flesh as he held you close, his hot breath fanning over your ear. “He thinks he can have you, after all this time? After everything I’ve done for you?”

His voice was a low, menacing purr, laced with dark promise. You could practically feel the obsessive hunger radiating off him, the sheer intensity of his desire to keep you, to possess you utterly.

“Hmmm? Only you of course! But you’re jealous thats so cute!!”

Sol’s eyes flashed with a dangerous light at your teasing words, a low growl rumbling in his chest. He captured your mouth in a searing kiss, his tongue invading, staking his claim.

When he broke away, his lips curled into a smirk, a hint of fang visible. “Cute? You think my jealousy is cute?”

His hand slid up your ribcage, fingers closing around your throat in a gentle but unmistakable grasp. “I’ll show you cute,” he purred, leaning in close. “I’ll worship every inch of you, until you’re begging me to stop.”

Sol’s breath washed over your face, You felt yourself melting into his touch, your body responding eagerly to his dark promises.

Sol cupped your cheeks, but his eyes never left yours, burning with an intensity that made your heart race. “You want my obsession,” he whispered, his voice low and husky. “You want to be consumed by it, to feel like you’re the only thing that matters in this world?”

Without waiting for a response, he captured your lips again, kissing you with a ferocity that stole your breath. His hands roamed your body, touching you everywhere at once, claiming every curve and contour as his own.

Sol’s teeth scraped against your bottom lip, tugging gently before soothing the sting with his tongue. He explored your mouth with renewed urgency, as if trying to map every inch of you, to memorize the taste and feel of you.

Breaking the kiss, Sol pressed his forehead against yours, his breathing ragged.

Sol’s eyes gleamed with a manic intensity, a crazed devotion that sent shivers down your spine. He leaned in closer, his nose brushing against yours as he spoke in a fervent whisper.

“I love you, I love you so much it hurts. Every breath I take is for you, every heartbeat, every thought.” His hands framed your face, thumbs stroking your cheekbones with a tender reverence that belied the wildness in his gaze.

“You’re my everything, my reason for existing. Without you, there’s nothing. No purpose, no joy, no life.” Sol’s voice cracked, emotion raw and exposed. “I’d do anything for you, kill anyone who tries to take you from me and I’m yours, forever and always.”

Sol’s declaration hung in the air, heavy with the weight of his all-consuming love. He pulled back slightly, his fingers trailing down your neck, leaving a path of tingling heat in their wake.

With that, Sol’s mouth descended upon yours once more, kissing you with a desperate hunger. His hands roamed your body, kneading your flesh, claiming you as his own.

Sol’s gaze drifted down to your exposed neck, his eyes darkening with primal desire. Without hesitation, he leaned in, his teeth grazing the tender skin before sinking in just enough to leave a mark. A claim, a brand, a promise of possession.

He repeated this ritual along your collarbone and shoulder, each nip and suckle punctuating his devotion. Your skin prickled with goosebumps, a mix of pleasure and trepidation as you felt his love etched into your flesh.

Finally, Sol’s attention turned to your inner thigh, his mouth seeking out the delicate skin just above your knee. He nuzzled and kissed the area, his tongue darting out to taste the saltiness of your sweat before closing his lips around the tender flesh and sucking gently.

Before you could react, Sol shifted positions, pinning you beneath him. He ground his hips against yours, the thick length of his cock…

Without warning, he pushed forward, breaching your tight entrance with a single, forceful thrust. You cried out, shocked by the sudden intrusion, your body struggling to accommodate his girth.

Sol didn’t pause, not even for a moment. He began to move, his powerful thrusts driving him deeper into your willing depths. The burn was intense, but you welcomed it, reveling in the feeling of being so thoroughly possessed.

“Fuck, You feel so good”

“Sol, you keep teasing me- This isn’t fair..” you wailed, tears of pleasure streaming down your face as Sol continued to pound into you with ruthless abandon. Each brutal thrust sent shockwaves of ecstasy through your body, your walls clenching around his invading length.

Despite your protests, you couldn’t deny the intense arousal building within you. Your moans grew louder, more wanton, as your body surrendered to the overwhelming sensations.

Sol’s hands gripped your hips, holding you steady as he drove himself deeper, chasing his release. “Fair? Life isn’t fair, Ame,” he panted, his breath hot against your ear. “But I’ll make you mine, completely, irrevocably. And you’ll love every minute of it.”

His words ignited a fire within you

Sol’s thrusts grew more erratic, his hips snapping forward with a primal urgency as he chased his impending orgasm.

With a guttural roar, he buried himself to the hilt, his seed erupting deep within your quivering passage. The sensation of him filling you, marking you as his, sent you spiraling further into rapture.

Sol quickly adjusted your position, flipping you onto your stomach and pulling your hips back to present yourself to him. He settled between your spread thighs, the head of his still-hard cock nudging insistently at your dripping entrance.

Without preamble, he surged forward, burying himself to the hilt in one powerful thrust. A low groan escaped him as he savored the tight heat enveloping his length, your inner walls clinging to him like a velvet vice.

He began to move, his thrusts deep and deliberate, each stroke driving him impossibly farther into your core. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the air, punctuated by your muffled moans and gasps.

Sol’s hands roamed your back, fingernails digging into your flesh as he claimed you, owning every inch of you.

With a gentleness that contrasted with his earlier passion, Sol’s movements became languid and measured. He savoring each slide of his engorged length within your welcoming warmth, relishing the way your slick channel adapted to his shape.

He rocked slowly into you, Sol’s fingertips traced tantalizing patterns along your spine, sending shivers down your nerves. His breath tickled your ear, his murmurs of affection weaving a spell of tranquility around you.

“Don’t tense up,” he cooed, his tone soothing. “Just relax and let me in. I promise I’ll take care of you, make it good for you.”

His hips undulated in a sensual rhythm, the subtle grind of his pelvis against your buttocks sparking pleasant friction.

With a final, brutal thrust, Sol buried himself to the hilt, his cock pulsing as he released a torrent of hot semen deep inside you. Your body clenched around him, milking his shaft for every last drop as you both trembled on the brink of ecstasy.

Sol pulled out of you with a wet squelch, his spent cock glistening with your combined fluids. He turned you over, his hands roaming your curves possessively as he positioned himself between your thighs once more.

“Again,” he growled, his eyes blazing with unquenchable hunger. “I won’t stop until you’re screaming my name and begging for mercy.”

With that, he plunged back into your waiting heat, his renewed erection stretching you open once more. Your legs wrapped around his waist, ankles locking at the small of his back as you met his thrusts with equal fervor.

“Ahhh, yes!” you cried out, your nails digging into Sol’s shoulders as he pounded into you with unrelenting ferocity. “Harder, Sol, please!”

A high-pitched keen tore from your throat as Sol’s precise aim sent shockwaves of pleasure radiating through your entire being. Your inner walls fluttered and clenched around his pistoning cock, trying desperately to draw him in deeper.

Sol’s response was to redouble his efforts, fucking you with a wild abandon that bordered on feral. The sound of skin slapping against skin and your wanton moans created a filthy cacophony that only served to spur him on.

With a final, earth-shattering thrust, Sol buried himself to the hilt, his cock throbbing violently as he emptied himself inside you once more.

With a playful smirk, you reached up to toy with the delicate silver studs piercing Sol’s nipples. Your fingers danced across the metal, tracing the ridges and points, sending sparks of pleasure shooting straight to his already sensitive cock.

“Mmm, do you like that?” you purred, your breath hot against his chest as you leaned in close. “Feeling my touch on your pretty piercings?”

Sol let out a low groan, his hips bucking involuntarily as your teasing fingers sent jolts of electricity coursing through his body. “Pumpkin-,” he gasped, his voice thick with need. “Keep doing that and I might just come again.”

Sol’s eyes rolled back, a guttural moan escaping his lips as you continued to torment his sensitive nipples with your clever fingers. The combination of your touch and the gentle tugging on the piercings proved to be his undoing.

“I can't…fuck, I’m gonna…” he warned, his words trailing off into a strangled cry as his orgasm hit him like a freight train.

His cock jerked and spasmed, painting your stomach with streaks of hot cum as wave after wave of intense pleasure washed over him. You watched, mesmerized, as Sol came undone in your arms, his body shaking with the force of his release.

When the aftershocks finally subsided, Sol collapsed against you, his chest heaving with ragged breaths. “That was…incredible,”

………After some time.

The aftermath of your shared intimacy left Sol visibly glowing, his cheeks tinted with a gentle pink hue that added to his already endearing expression. He nestled his face into the crook of your neck, sighing contentedly as his arms looped tightly around you. His touch was firm yet tender, a silent plea to stay close.

“You’re so good to me,” he murmured against your skin, his voice soft and dripping with affection.

You smiled, your fingers gently threading through his damp hair, brushing away any lingering strands clinging to his forehead. His vulnerability in moments like this was a stark contrast to the teasing and reserved Sol you’d come to adore. Here, he was open, raw, and so utterly lovable it made your chest ache.

“I love you like this, Sol,” you whispered, pressing a feather-light kiss to his temple. His arms tightened slightly around you in response, and you could feel his heart racing against yours.

Still wrapped in his warmth, you coaxed him to lay back, sitting beside him on the bed. “Let me take care of you,” you offered with a mischievous smile that made his blush deepen. He tried to glance away, but you caught his face gently, guiding his gaze back to yours.

“You always take such good care of me,” he murmured, his tone laced with shyness.

As you began tending to him, your touch was deliberate and soft, showing your affection with every small gesture. You wiped his face with a warm cloth, pressing soft kisses to his forehead and cheeks after each gentle stroke. His eyes fluttered shut, and he leaned into every touch, his lips parting slightly with a breathy sigh.

“You’re glowing,” you teased, earning a soft chuckle from him.

He opened his eyes slightly, still hazy with warmth and affection. “That’s because of you,” he replied earnestly, making your cheeks flush.

You shifted, positioning yourself to better reach him. He lay still, watching you with an almost reverent gaze as you kissed his shoulder, letting your lips linger to reassure him without words. You traced the outline of his arm with your fingers before pulling him closer.

“You’re perfect,” you said softly, meeting his gaze. The sincerity in your tone made his eyes widen before he hid his face in your chest, groaning softly.

“Stop saying things like that,” he mumbled, his voice muffled but undeniably affectionate.

“Why?” you teased, leaning down to kiss the top of his head. “Because you know it’s true?”

He groaned again, this time hiding his reddened ears. “Because you’re going to spoil me.”

“I already do,” you replied without missing a beat. “And I’m not stopping anytime soon.”

He let out a soft laugh, his body finally relaxing completely against yours. You took the opportunity to pull him back onto the bed, cradling him as you traced lazy patterns along his back. His breathing slowed, and for a moment, the world outside of your shared space didn’t matter.

Sol was practically glowing, his usual composed demeanor entirely replaced by something softer, something utterly endearing. A wide, boyish grin spread across his face as he buried himself into the crook of your neck, arms wrapped tightly around your waist like he couldn’t bear to let go. His warmth radiated against you, his breaths slow and content as he nuzzled closer.

“You’re so warm,” he murmured, his voice muffled against your skin. You could feel the slight curve of his smile pressing against you, making your chest tighten with affection.

“Look who’s talking,” you teased gently, running your fingers through his hair. It was soft to the touch, and he leaned into your hand like a cat seeking affection. “You’re practically burning up.”

“That’s your fault,” he shot back playfully, his cheeks darkening despite the confident tone. He shifted to look up at you, his glowing smile giving way to something more bashful as his gaze flickered between your eyes and lips. “You make me like this.”

You couldn’t help but smile, your hand cupping his cheek as you pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Good,” you whispered against his skin, savoring the way he shivered at your words. “I like you like this.”

The comment made his ears flush bright red, and he hid his face in your neck again, letting out a muffled groan. “You’re unfair,” he mumbled, though you could feel his grin widening against your skin.

“Me? Unfair?” you replied, feigning innocence as you trailed your hands down his back in slow, soothing motions. “You’re the one clinging to me like this.”

“Because I don’t want to let go,” he admitted softly, his vulnerability catching you off guard. He tilted his head just enough to look at you, his half-lidded gaze brimming with affection. “I feel safe like this. With you.”

Your heart swelled, and you leaned down to press a soft kiss to his lips. It wasn’t hurried or passionate, but something slower, deeper—full of all the unspoken emotions you couldn’t put into words. When you pulled away, his grin was even wider, his expression utterly smitten.

“See?” you said softly, brushing your thumb against his cheek. “You’re glowing.”

“You keep saying that,” he murmured, but the way he hid his face against your chest again betrayed how much he loved hearing it.

You chuckled, cradling him as he melted further into your arms. “That’s because it’s true.” Your hands resumed their gentle path along his back, tracing small circles that made him sigh in pure contentment.

After a small bath, You had to pull Sol. He said he didn’t mind being covered..in whatever. You pushed him to the bathroom.

Sol was focused on the soup, carefully stirring the pot with a steady hand. The steam curled up around his face, his usual sharp features softened in the kitchen’s warm glow. You sat on the counter nearby, swinging your legs lightly as you watched him with a mischievous grin. He looked so domestic like this, a stark contrast to his usual composed self, and you couldn’t help but want to mess with him just a little.

Leaning forward, you reached out and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. His hand froze mid-stir, his body stiffening for a moment as his ears turned red. “W-What are you doing?” he mumbled, not looking at you but clearly flustered.

“Nothing,” you replied innocently, already leaning in again. This time, you aimed for his jaw, letting your lips linger just long enough to make him squirm.

“Y/N…” he said quietly, his voice shaky but lacking any real resistance. He finally turned his head slightly, his dark eyes meeting yours, wide and full of embarrassment. “I’m cooking.”

“I can see that,” you teased, your grin widening as you kissed the corner of his mouth. “But you’re also very kissable right now.”

He flinched again, his grip on the spoon tightening as he tried to keep his composure. “You’re not making this easy,” he muttered under his breath, though his lips twitched upward in a small, shy smile.

You chuckled, leaning back slightly to give him a moment of reprieve. “Need anything?” you asked, feigning nonchalance as you played with the hem of your shirt.

“Pepper,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. He still wasn’t looking at you directly, but the blush on his cheeks was impossible to miss.

“Pepper, huh?” you repeated with a smirk. Hopping off the counter, you made your way to the spice rack, grabbing the pepper and handing it to him with a flourish. “Anything else, Chef Sol?”

He sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly as he took the pepper from you. “You’re too much,” he said, but there was no malice in his tone. If anything, he sounded amused, even fond.

“Too much for you to handle?” you teased, leaning closer once more. This time, you kissed the shell of his ear, your breath warm against his skin. He shivered, his hand faltering as he almost dropped the pepper.

“Y/N…” he whispered, his voice somewhere between a warning and a plea. “I need to finish this.”

“Fine, fine,” you said, stepping back with a dramatic sigh. “I’ll behave. For now.”

The kitchen was filled with the comforting scent of the soup, the two of you sitting at the table, sipping from your bowls. The warmth of the meal matched the warmth between you both, and as you took a small spoonful, you couldn’t help but smile at the taste.

“This is really good,” you said, eyes bright as you looked over at Sol. He glanced up at you, a soft smile on his lips, but he seemed to be lost in his own thoughts, gazing at you more than the food.

His face was still flushed, his dark eyes following your every movement. He looked so content in the moment, so at peace, and it made your heart flutter.

“You’re smiling,” you said playfully, raising an eyebrow. “I think you’re happy about my approval.”

He shifted his gaze slightly, his cheeks still rosy as he lowered his spoon. “I’m happy you like it,” he said softly, his voice just barely above a whisper. “I wanted to make it perfect for you.”

You couldn’t help but beam at him, warmth spreading through your chest. “You always go out of your way for me,” you teased, “I think that’s pretty cute.”

The words tumbled out of your mouth before you even had a chance to stop them, but they felt right. You leaned in, setting your bowl down as you placed a hand over his on the table. “You know, we should just get married,” you said with a playful smirk, tilting your head slightly. “We should just be together forever. Don’t you think?”

Sol froze for a moment, his eyes going wide, before his gaze flicked away. His cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of pink, and you could see his fingers twitch slightly where they rested on the table. “What… what?” he stammered, clearly flustered but not outright rejecting the idea. “W-We don’t have to—”

“No, no!” You laughed, teasing him further. “I was just joking. But, wouldn’t it be fun?” You winked, nudging him playfully with your shoulder. “I can already imagine us together forever, making soup for each other, and you cooking for me every night.”

His face was so red now, his expression a mix of surprise, embarrassment, and something else—something deeper that he wasn’t quite ready to admit. “I… I didn’t mean to… I wasn’t…” His words stumbled over themselves, and you could tell he was too flustered to finish his sentence.

But, seeing him like that made you feel a warmth deep in your heart. You couldn’t help but smile more, your eyes softening as you looked at him. “You’re so cute,” you said gently, your voice full of affection. “You know that, right?”

Sol finally looked up at you, a nervous laugh escaping his lips as he tried to compose himself. “I’m not cute,” he muttered, still trying to look away, but his smile betrayed him.

“Yes, you are,” you replied, leaning in just a little closer, your voice soft and loving. “You’re ridiculously cute, Sol.”

His breath caught for a moment, his cheeks still burning with embarrassment as he finally managed to meet your gaze. “You’re the one who’s… making me feel like this,” he mumbled, shaking his head in a failed attempt to hide his smile. “I’m not used to this…”

You let out a soft laugh, feeling your heart swell with affection for him. “It’s okay,” you whispered, your voice low and soothing. “I think you’re perfect just the way you are.”

Sol’s blush didn’t fade, but there was a small, shy grin tugging at his lips as he looked at you. “You’re making me all mushy,” he admitted, his voice a little more tender than before.

A rush of warmth spread through your chest at his words, and you couldn’t stop the smile that broke out across your face. “I think I’m already there,” you whispered back, your heart racing as you reached over to hold his hand, feeling the softness of his skin under yours.

You thought teasing him, pushing him just a little further, might reveal that obsession lurking beneath Sol’s shy demeanor. Maybe you’d catch a glimpse of his desperation, his possessiveness—the part of him that craved you so deeply it bordered on uncontainable. Instead, what you saw was a smile.

Not just any smile. It was as bright as the sun, as if the entire weight of the world had lifted off his shoulders. His eyes shimmered, brimming with emotion, and before you could even process it, he was crying.

“You’re…” his voice cracked, trembling with overwhelming sincerity. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

His words hit you like a bolt of lightning. For a moment, your heart froze, and your yandere-like thoughts—the need to possess him, to keep him yours and only yours—shattered into something else entirely. Something soft. Something pure.

Your lips parted, but no words came out. Instead, tears welled up in your eyes, spilling over faster than you could stop them. A choked sob escaped your throat as you lunged forward, wrapping your arms tightly around him.

“Sol…” you whimpered, burying your face into his chest as you began to cry in earnest. The tears wouldn’t stop. You were overwhelmed—by his words, his vulnerability, his love. All of it crashed into you at once, leaving you raw and open in a way you hadn’t expected.

“Hey, hey,” Sol stammered, startled by your reaction. He wrapped his arms around you instinctively, holding you close as his own tears quietly slipped down his cheeks. “What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” His voice was soft, full of concern, and he rubbed small circles on your back as you clung to him.

You couldn’t answer right away, too caught up in the storm of emotions swirling inside you. All you could do was clutch him tighter, sobbing into his shirt as he held you like you were the most precious thing in the world.

Finally, you managed to speak, your voice muffled and shaky. “I… I don’t know. I just… I’m so happy, Sol. I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve you.”

“Don’t say that,” he whispered, his voice firm but tender. He pulled back just enough to tilt your face up to meet his gaze, his thumbs gently wiping away your tears. His eyes were red-rimmed, but they shone with a love so pure it took your breath away. “You deserve everything, everything, and more. Don’t you dare think otherwise.”

His words made you cry harder, and he only hugged you tighter, resting his chin on top of your head as you both stayed there, locked in each other’s embrace. You could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your cheek, grounding you, soothing you.

“I love you,” you finally whispered, the words slipping out between quiet sobs. “I love you so much it hurts.”

“I love you too,” he murmured, his voice filled with so much raw emotion that it sent a shiver down your spine. “More than anything. You’re my everything.”

The two of you stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, holding each other as your tears slowly dried….

It’s up to you to think if you want to love him.

I hope you know “Me”- me?

[hoonieyun]

question and answer

welcome to, "is he mr. right?", the dating game! where a lucky girl who is looking for love has the opportunity to go on a date with four handsome and eager bachelor's who are also looking for love.

this is an interactive dating show au where the readers can vote on "yn's" decisions, ultimately leading to who she will be with at the end... but more on that later!

heeseung 𐐪♡𐑂 jongseong 𐐪♡𐑂 jaeyun 𐐪♡𐑂 sunghoon

warnings: not much! lmk if i need to add smth though! 18+ not proofread.. hehe!

wc: 3631

episode two: question and answer

the reception you received from the first episode was very kind. you didn’t expect so many people to like your personality and to root for you to find love. you were scrolling on social media and looking at the comments about you from the first episode, people were posting clips from the show and screenshots of their favorite moments. 

“yn is so pretty. how is she single??”

“yn if you don’t find your mr. right, i will be mr. right for you.” 

“does yn like girls… by any chance?” 

you laughed as you read some of the comments, grateful that people were so kind and complimentive towards you. you’re waiting for filming to start as you sit in your makeup chair, the hair and makeup stylist doing their part to make you look tv show ready. they had provided you with several outfits to choose from and although they were all very pretty, you decided to choose the blue outfit as it seemed to be the most comfortable to wear for long hours on end. 

they had done your hair the same way as the first time and kept your makeup simple, just the way you liked it. you had gotten pretty close with the stylists because they were taking care of you and it felt nice to have other women on your side as you tried to navigate the world of tv dating shows. 

“yn, 5 minutes until we start filming. we need you in your spot.” one of the PAs says as he pops into your dressing room with a knock. you give him a nod before the stylist does their final touches and wish you good luck. you thank them with a small hug and follow the PA to your spot so that filming could begin. 

you weren’t necessarily nervous anymore to film after how great the first episode went and how nice everyone has been to you online. you were also excited to get to know the bachelor’s of the show as you hadn’t learned anything about them from the previous episode. you weren’t allowed to watch the episode so everything you saw last night was only provided to you by the show’s production team. they took your personal phone and provided you with one from the show, it only had a few things on there where you could only see content about what people are saying surrounding you that the show picked out for you to see and document your personal thoughts for the show’s behind the scenes. 

there seemed to be so much more that went into filming a show and you were grateful to just be on the other side of the camera where you didn’t have to think much about the logisitcs that went into making a whole tv show. 

you can hear the love guru doing her usual routine of getting the crowd hyped up for the episode and setting up the structure for the second episode. she explains that this episode would be focused on the question and answer where you would have the chance to ask the bachelor’s questions to learn more about them. 

the production team had given you a list of questions to ask the boys and from that you chose a certain amounto of questions that you would have to give to production so they can build the storytelling of the episode around those questions. 

before you knew it, you were once again being announced by the host but this time you would be walking down the stairwell they had built for the set that was in the center of the stage. you smiled brightly and waved towards the audience as you walked down the stairs and made your way towards the love guru, a stool waiting for you to take a seat on. 

“hi, yn! how is our little dove doing?” she asks and you tell her you were excited and so happy to be there. the love guru briefly touches on what happened in the last episode and even brings up all of the positivity you’ve been receiving online. 

“from what i’ve seen, everyone has been really nice to me! so shout out to production for only showing me the nice comments and keeping the mean ones away.” you jokingly say and the audience laughs along with you and the host. 

“of course! we try our best to uplift our contestants so all of those assholes online can kiss my ass.” the love guru says, winking and blowing a kiss towards the camera. “so, i’m sure you know how this episode will go, we’re going to bring out our bachelor’s and you’ll be able to ask them questions so you can get to know them better before you ask them on a date.” she explains while you nod and smile in response. 

“ready?” she asks and you enthusiastically answer. 

the crowd goes wild as the parition slowly descends from the sky, blocking your view of the boys as they all take turns walking down the stairs and taking their seats. the love guru greets them one by one and asks them a few questions before going into the nitty gritty, the Q&A. 

“well, i’ve done enough talking, now it’s time for our dove to get to know our bachelor’s. yn, what is your first question and who is it for?” the love guru asks and before you ask your first question, you take a deep breath and take a look at the cards in your hand that have the questions written on them. 

“i’ve only got a few questions but i think they’re the perfect questions for me to get to know all of you… so here it goes..

this question is for all of the bachelor’s, do you believe in love at first sight?” you ask and the crowd interjections with a curious sound while you wait for their answers. 

bachelor no. 1: no, i don’t; but i think that love is built on memories and if your first sight with someone is the stepping stone to love then, sure.  bachelor no. 2: yes but i think it isn’t always romantic, sometimes when you see someone for the first time you know they’re going to be a part of your life forever. so, yes? kinda..? haha.. bachelor no. 3: yes, i feel like knowing how you feel about someone at first glance is really important because it’s your first impression of them and when you feel those sparks and it seems like a love song is playing in your head; you know that it’s love.  bachelor no. 4: i would say… yes! i’ve definitely felt like i’ve loved someone when i’ve first seen them but it doesn’t mean it will last, sadly. i probably shouldn’t say this but that’s how i felt about my ex, seeing her for the first time i knew i’d love her and i think that’s something that people should experience with love at least once in their lives. 

you processed their questions and although you appreciated all of their responses, bachelor number one’s short and clear response stuck out to you, especially because he was the only one that said that he doesn’t believe in love at first sight. you also took the time to take in their voices, tone and inflection, and how they’d look depending on their voice. 

it was hard to try to come up with how you think they would look but you took note of their voices and how it made you feel. one had an australian accent, another was smooth like honey, one was deep and low, while the other was surpassingly comforting. 

“interesting answers guys.. personally i don’t believe in love at first sight because you can never know if you love someone until you’ve grown to learn who they are but i loved all of your answers…

bachelor’s one and three… who is your favorite person?”

there was a comfortable silence as the two bachelor’s tried to come up with their answers, you watched as the crowd intensely watched the guys on the opposite side of you to read their reactions but there wasn’t much besides furrowed brows and heart eyes for them. at least you could deduce that they’d be handsome even if you don’t know how they look. 

this was an important question for you, one that you had asked to write in, and although you wanted to ask all of them this question, production only allowed you to ask two of them because they had chosen certain questions to be for all or some. 

bachelor no. 1: my favorite person is my mom. it may seem like a generic answer but she’s the best person i’ve ever met. she is kind, loving, and everything i owe my happiness to. she’s taught me how to live a life where i won’t regret who i was and will be proud of the person i become. she’s my hero.  bachelor no. 3: my favorite person would be my dad. i attribute a lot of things to him because he introduced me to many things as a kid to allowed me to exercise my brain in different ways. he was a strong, respectable, and kind man and he’s fully supported me in everything i do and i know it’s cliché but i wouldn’t be the man i am today without my dad. 

both bachelor’s answers were very touching and it made your heart swell to know that both of them answered with a family member in mind. family values were important to you but it wasn’t a deal breaker; it’s just nice to know that they have people in their family that support them. you watch the crowd closely as you listen to their answers and much like before, it was all adoring looks and you couldn’t help but feel more eager to meet them all as you take in their responses to your questions. 

you also make a point to remember that bachelor number one had spoken quite a bit and knowing it was because he wanted to share his admiration and love for his mom, it was very endearing. 

bachelor number three’s answer also brought the same type of warmth as number one since both of them chose one of their parents. you loved to see that they both admired their parents and attributed the good things in their lives to the way they were raised and treated by their parents. 

“for bachelors two and four… give me your best pickup line!” your question is instantly met with laughter and cheers as people seem to think the question is very amusing as everyone in the studio awaits the two bachelor’s pickup lines. this was a question on the list they had given you and you thought it was a good way to test their charisma and humor. 

bachelor no. 2: if you had three wishes, what would you wish for? well… i guess you only have two wishes left now that i’m here.  bachelor no. 4: do you play soccer? because you’re a keeper!

the crowd laughs at both men’s pickup lines and although you weren’t expecting much as the question to you was more of a personality test than anything serious like the question you had asked prior, it told you a bit about each of them. 

bachelor number four must play soccer since he was keen to include soccer in his answer opposed to just using a typical pickup line while bachelor number two surprised you with his answer. it was not only a pickup line you hadn’t heard before but it was smooth and you could feel butterflies form in your stomach as if he said it to you directly while looking into your eyes. it was so direct yet playful. his voice also added to the effect, it was deep and smooth; like a warm cup of tea. comforting.. 

the other guy’s voice felt oddly familiar to you but you weren’t sure why. his accent was strong and it definitely lingered in your mind as you replayed his voice over and over. it was sweet and you could tell the crowd loved his accent as they’d swoon whenever he spoke– you found yourself intrigued but not in the same ways the crowd had fallen for him. maybe you just needed more time.. 

“wow! those surely were some pickup lines..” you say with a chuckle and the crowd laughs alongside you and the love guru as you poke a bit of fun at their pickup lines as if you didn’t enjoy them. 

“okay, this question is for number one and four: in one action, how would you impress your girlfriend’s parents when meeting them for the first time?” this question was somewhat important, obviously you cared what your parents thought about your boyfriend but it doesn’t necessarily mean it would be the end all be all if they didn’t like him, unless he did something incredibly bad, then yeah; it’s over. this question was more to test their skills with parents and a way for you to analyze they’re ability to present themselves to people that mattered a lot to you. 

“now remember boys, these are all hypothetical questions BUT we are airing this show so our dove’s parents will most likely see this.” the love guru adds in and all of the boys nod as if they weren’t aware of that circumstance in the first place. 

bachelor no. 1: for me, i’d probably take care of the whole night. instead of meeting them half way to some restaurant or having her parents take care of the meal, i’d plan the meeting myself and all they’d have to do was show up. that way i can show them that i’m not only capable of taking care of their daughter, but also them.  bachelor no. 4: i would impress them by showing her parents how well i know their daughter. i think a lot of parents are turned away from their children’s partners because they think they may not be worthy but by showing how well i know their daughter on more than just a superficial level, i think i’d make a good impression. 

both of their answers were very good, you were constantly impressed with bachelor number one’s answers because they were so well thought out and clear but number four’s seemed to always leave you with a sense of curiosity that led you to want to know more. “number four, can you elaborate? what do you mean by “more than just a superficial level””? you asked with a shrug and everyone’s eyes were glued onto him. 

it was like he was put under a spotlight and although you didn’t mean to do that, you were genuinely curious and wanted to learn more. 

number four didn’t hesitate or falter to answer, “by that i mean i want to show them that i know their daughter enough to take care of and that means also knowing everything about who and what she loves. i’d do my best to accommodate and alleviate all of her worries, always consider how things would affect her and doing that will show her parents just how much i love her. of course i can go on and on about how much i love their daughter, but showing them is a lot more effective, don’t you think?” 

it was in that moment that the familiarity you felt with number four finally hit you, the realization was like when you suddenly realize you may not have turned off the stove or if you had forgotten to lock your front door.. an uncertainty that lingered and it instantly made you feel anxious. 

“everything ok?” the love guru asks as if she had caught onto your shift in behavior. you nodded and put on a smile that was convincing enough because everyone cheered as you straighten yourself out and moved onto the next question. 

“okay! moving on..” you say with an awkward chuckle, one that doesn’t go unnoticed by quite literally everyone in the studio, you even noticed a weird expression from one of the cameramen.

“numbers two and three, how would you react if your girlfriend introduced you to her best friend who happens to be a boy?” although there was a clear answer to this question and you didn’t even have a best friend who was a boy, you wanted to hear their answers and have it be in front of an audience just in case that they ever turned their back on their word.

bachelor no. 2: i’d be like… that’s cool. to be honest i’d be somewhat intimidated, not because he’s a man but because he probably will be protective over her so he’s just another person’s trust i’d have to gain. my girlfriend’s friends are my friends.  bachelor no. 3: i wouldn’t care much. i’m secure enough to know that my girl only has eyes for me and that we can trust each other. we’ll become friends because of our mutual love for her. 

their answers weren’t anything out of the ordinary but you liked that number two admitted to the possibility of being intimidated by another man but following it up with his reasoning made you breathe a sigh of relief knowing that he was secure in his manhood– same with number three. 

“this is my last question and its a very important one.. if you were a season.. what season would you be?” you had hyped up the question like it was some complex and well thought out inquiry but it was very simple– but to you; it told you a lot. 

bachelor no. 1: autumn bachelor no. 2: fall bachelor no. 3: winter bachelor no. 4: spring

you were a bit surprised that no one said summer because you associated summer with joy and hanging out with loved ones– but it wasn’t your favorite season either. 

to you, summer means spending time with your loved ones, being outside in the sun, enjoying the warmth on your skin, being lively, bright, and energetic. summer was bright and wild, something for the extroverts. 

spring was about renewal and rebirth, a fresh start, and a way for people to enjoy something new. it’s for people who look forward to the first ray of sunlight after winter because it represents perseverance but also a new day. it’s like stepping outside after being cooped up indoors all day and taking your first breath of fresh air. 

autumn, a fairly popular season, is all about cycles. when the leaves fall from the trees after they transition to the array of vibrant colors that represent warmth partnered with the crisp air that fall brings; this season is for those who find comfort in the simpler things like enjoying the way leaves crunch beneath their shoes or slowly watching the last leaf fall from a tree. it’s a season that brings warmth despite often being chilly. 

winter, of course, is usually connected with the holidays. the icy cold air and the fluffy white snow, it’s nostalgic as you’re reminded of the holidays as a kid. hot chocolate made by your mom without her reminding you to put on warm socks and a sweater, getting excited to open gifts, looking out the window with wide eyes as you wait for the first sign of snowfall. winter was nostalgia with a mixture of desire as you think about the new year. 

“thank you guys! i won’t elaborate further but telling me what season you’d be tells me a lot about yourself.. think of it as a little secret just for me! 

i really appreciated all of your answers, they were all so thoughtful and funny and i’m very excited to get to know more about each of you as we go on dates these upcoming weeks!” you announce and the crowd cheers as they all get excited for the upcoming episodes where you’d go on a date with all of the boys and finally get to meet them. 

you thought about the dates too, since you had no control over the dates and the boys would be the one planning it out, you were a bit nervous.. it also doesn’t help that the audience today and those watching at home are the ones choosing who you go on a date with first. you also recalled the awkward tension between you and one of the bachelor’s. the wall separating the two of you was so thick yet so thin, like it was a veil that served no purpose to it’s intended use. 

there was no reason for you to feel that way with him since you didn’t know him so you just tossed it up to nerves and that you were equally nervous to meet all of the boys.. even if you were more nervous to meet one over the others for no apparent reason besides of a weird inkling. 

you’ve began to tune out the rest of the filming as you get in your head a bit, not paying attention to the love guru as she signs off for the show’s closing; nudging you a bit to pull you out of your thoughts as you say goodbye to the crowd and blow a cheeky kiss to the camera, one that is received well by the crowd as they applaud in glee at your gesture. 

“isn’t she cute, guys?” the love guru says and with a simple phrase, the producers and directors call for the end of filming. you immediately get up from your seat and jog to your dressing room, earning awkward stares from the production team and the crowd. 

all of the bachelor’s unaware of your sudden action. 

prev ep 𐐪♡𐑂 next ep

hoonieyun notes: the mystery begins!! you guys now have the opportunity to vote on who you want yn to go on a date with first based on the answers to her questions! keep in mind that the pictures do not reflect who each bachelor's are depending on what or who answered for the question the pictures are sectioned with or the order of the photosets. it's simply just for visuals as how i think they'd dress for this week's episode! don't forget to vote below but i will be ending the poll two days early so i can write out the chapter and leave it a bit of surprise on who won the poll! also PLEASE leave your theories below on who you think each bachelor is based on the answers!! i tried to match it the best i can to what i think each hyung line member would say :3

copyright 2025 - present © hoonieyun all rights reserved all writing here is fiction & not in any association with characters mentioned. if you enjoyed reading this please consider reblogging and following <3

ᡣ•.•𐭩♡ @pagemiah @jiiyen @jnysaln @xh01bri @rairaiblog @laurradoesloveu @17ericas @manaah02 @heeseung64 @zorange13 @firstclassjaylee @leipforggy

@berries-n-blues @simsungsims @softpia @enhastolemyheart @ilovbeshotaro @zwithae @pjselee @heebear @milanco @bbsantc @elairah @wintereals @mariahxrrera @wonuziex

[torturedtypewritersdept]

earning your stripes - part two

✯ pairing:

racer!rafe cameron x fem sports reporter!reader

✯ summary:

sports reporter, y/n edwards, has the opportunity of a lifetime - interviewing nascar driver, rafe cameron. But, it may be a little bit more than she bargained for.

✯ warnings:

rafe is a sexy cocky bitch, reader is a queen, sexual innuendos, eventual smut, mature themes, rafe low key is a bitch, etc.

✯ a/n:

nothing!! please don't engage if you have a hard time with any of these topics <3 this was origianlly posted on my old blog @/illicitfixations, @/lovelornanonymity back in 2021/2022 and i have rewritten + reshared it here :)

You kept thinking about Rafe after your initial interaction, but you weren’t going to let him know that and you weren’t going to go running back to your bosses crying about a boy being mean to you and refusing to interview him. Racing was already a predominantly male driven sport and that didn’t leave a lot of room for you at the table, but you had worked hard and become someone that every household recognized, they called you one of Nascar's leading women now and you were damn proud of that. You weren’t going to let some meat head race car driver convince you that you weren’t something special, even if he was beautiful and chiseled in all the right places and a leader on the track. Nope. You couldn’t go there. As dreamy as he was, he had ruined any amount of respect you’d initially had for him, simply by opening his mouth. You were brought out of your thoughts as your phone chirped, Alex’s name littering across the screen. 

Green onion. Tonight 9pm. 

You giggled at the text, knowing that she wouldn’t take no for an answer before you sent your reply. 

Only if you wear something sexy ;)

Bitch, get real. 

Her reply came with a quickness, just as you had expected and you giggled, knowing that Alex was always wearing something sexy and always, always going to look good in a bar on a friday night. You wished you could be more confident and carefree like she was. 

- 

Nine o’clock came quickly. You had wasted most of the day going over the stats of every driver in preparation for tomorrow’s race. By your account, Rafe was set to win tomorrow and Topper would probably come second or third. You liked those odds. Though, deep down if Rafe wasn’t as good of a driver, you might find him less sexy, which would be a good thing. You got up from your desk at 8:45pm, living close to downtown had its perks and not having to leave early for things was one of them. You dressed quickly in a black lacy tank top and low-rise jeans, curling your hair and throwing on a little bit of makeup before grabbing your purse and keys and heading out the door. 

By the time you got to the bar, Alex was already about five drinks deep, as you’d expected. She always pre-gamed a little too hard, even when you were in college. You found her on top of a barstool drooling over a questionable looking man as he tucked her long black hair behind her ears. 

“Mind if I cut in?” 

You asked and she leapt up, squealing and pulling you in for a hug. 

“It’s about time you got here, this guy is boring!” 

She exclaimed. 

“Alex, honey, be nice.” 

You chastised her, though doing so in her drunken state you knew was a waste of time. 

“Sorry.” 

You mouthed to him and he just smiled and walked away, leaving you to tend to her antics by yourself. 

“Wanna dance!” 

She exclaimed in your ear and you merely nodded, grabbing her hand and pulling her to the dance floor. You danced for a brief moment, the dim light of the bar and the combination of the dj’s uplights created a feeling of ecstasy amidst the drinks that men in the bar kept supplying the two of you with. You continued to grind against Alex for about thirty minutes, the music bumping so violently that you could feel it under your feet. You walked out of the crowd and back to the bar for another drink when you ran into someone familiar. 

“Hey, y/n.” 

Topper said with a smile and you returned the gesture. 

“Hi, Top. Who’re your friends?” 

You questioned and he introduced them one by one. 

“Guys – this is Nascar's leading lady, y/n.” 

You blushed at Topper’s compliment. For a driver, he wasn’t half bad, he was even sweet to you most of the time. 

“Y/n – this is Kyle, Corbin, Zack, and Rafe.” 

You hadn’t even registered that the Rafe Topper was referring to was the same Rafe that you were trying so desperately to forget. Though, you probably should have; what kind of name is Rafe anyways? You remained polite as each boy said hello to you, returning the pleasantries and as your eyes met his, you swallowed thickly. He smiled that same shit eating grin and you pretended you didn’t know who he was. That’s what any self-respecting person would do in this situation, right? 

“Nice to meet you guys!” 

You exclaimed, tipping the drink in your hand and they returned the gesture, tipping their’s right back in your direction. 

“So, Nascar’s leading lady, huh? How’d you wind up, racing?” 

The one who’d introduced himself as Corbin asked and you giggled. 

“Oh, I’m not a driver! I enjoyed it a long time ago – my dad got me into it. But, I’m a sport’s reporter now, so I report on just about all of you.” 

At your revelation, Rafe almost spit out his drink, suddenly realizing who exactly you were and why you had probably made your way up to his garage the other night. Why had he made that stupid joke? 

“Anyways, Top, I’m here with Alex so I better get back to her. I’ll see you tomorrow though.” 

You said in a sweet sing-song voice before bringing him in for a hug. 

“Alright, call me if you need anything.” 

He said, rubbing the back of your hair. You nodded in response before pulling away and heading back to the dance floor where ALex was grinding on the man she had earlier been flirting with. Topper’s eyes lingered on your figure, making sure you got from point A to point B before tearing his eyes away. 

“Topper, please tell me that’s not who I think it is.” 

Rafe asked with bewildered eyes. 

“Well, who do you think it is?” 

Topper questioned. 

“She’s the hot broadcaster, isn’t she? The one all the guys like?” 

Rafe asked, fear lacing his normally overzealous and cocky tone. 

“She’s more than that, but yeah, that’s the same girl. Why?” 

Topper quickly responded. 

“I. fucked. up. – Top.” 

He muttered in a voice so low and choppy, enunciating the words in a tone so serious yet quiet that Topper almost didn’t catch what he said under the pressure of the music against his ears. 

“What did you do this time?” 

He questioned, annoyance lacing his tone. 

“I may or may not have made a joke at her expense when she came to interview me the other day.” 

Topper rolled his eyes in response.

“Rafe, what did you say to her?” 

He growled, grinding his molars against each other.

“I may or may not have asked her if she was an escort?” 

He replied sheepishly. 

“God! What the fuck is wrong with you?!” 

Topper was yelling at this point, so unabashedly ashamed of Rafe’s behavior and his incessant need to ruin everything. He found it comical really, the way Rafe had the ability to put his foot in his mouth within moments of meeting women; his douchebaggery could . Though, this time, it was at the expense of you – someone topper cared for deeply, and you – you weren’t just some girl in a bar. 

“I was trying to be funny and she looked so sad, Topper.” 

He replied, seemingly remorseful. 

“Of course she did, you idiot! What? You thought she was going to be happy about that?” 

He asked in an accusatory tone and Rafe could only glance between you and back to Topper, like a chastised dog. 

“Rafe, you need to find a way to make it right. She’s sweet. Joke or not – she didn’t deserve to be made to feel like that.” 

Topper growled.

“I promise, I will.” 

Rafe muttered in response, tipping back the neck of the beer bottle as it met his lips. 

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

taglist:

as always, if you'd like to be added to or removed from the taglist, please shoot me an ask or comment on this post so i can keep track <3

@maybankslover @inthelibrarybtw @luvrcndy @silkylovey @yagirlwrites @obxbabygirl @rafeecameronsbitch @klutzy-kay24 @roseczbalt @akobx @allsmilesreally7 @wtfdudesblog @urdreamgirl12 @hockeybabe87 @sereneera @annaconscience @pogueprincesa @bibissparkles @obxbigsis @jjmaybankmylovee @kulekehe

[meazalykov]

first day in wolfsburg

lynn wilms x reader series

last chapter - next chapter

chapter one

the apartment is quiet. too quiet. 

you stand in the middle of the living room, arms crossed, taking in the emptiness around you. the walls are bare, the furniture non-existent except for the essentials. your bed sits in the bedroom, hastily assembled hours earlier. your clothes hang neatly in the closet, and the fridge is stocked with just enough food to get by for the week.

it’s your first day in wolfsburg, and everything feels unfamiliar. things were warm and cozy in north london, but now you have a new place to get used to.

you sink onto the mattress, the only piece of furniture offering any comfort, and let out a deep sigh. the silence presses down on you. 

no gio with her endless banter, since she is back home in madrid happy to be with her old club. 

no vivianne with her steady, calming presence. just you in a city that already feels too far away from everything you’ve ever known. 

you miss both of your closest teammates from arsenal, its stings that they are not your teammates anymore.

after a moment, you grab your phone and scroll aimlessly, considering messaging either of them but what would you say? 

i miss you already? they’re probably busy settling into their own new chapters. gio’s likely wandering the streets of madrid, back in love with her childhood club, while vivianne is probably training with her new teammates at manchester city. 

you put your phone down and stare at the ceiling. it’s going to take time to feel like this is home. for now, all you want to do is stay here, wrapped in the safety of your own little bubble.

the wolfsburg training facility looms ahead, sleek and modern against the backdrop of a cloudy morning. your heart pounds as you step out of the car, clutching your bag tightly. you’d spent the past few days quietly, trying to process the whirlwind of the signing, press pictures, and your first interview with the club’s media team. 

today feels different. more real. it’s your first day with the team.

inside the locker room, you hesitate at the door. the sound of voices and laughter filters out, warm and inviting but still intimidating. they all know each other, you’re the new one. you take a deep breath and step in. 

heads turn as the door clicks shut behind you, and for a moment, you feel every set of eyes on you.

then a familiar voice breaks the silence. 

“y/n! finally, you’re here!”

you turn to see sveindís smiling at you, her energy as infectious in person as it is on social media. relief washes over you. you don’t know her well, but her posts and interactions have always been friendly.

“hey,” you say, managing a small smile as you pull yourself into her hug. 

“nice to finally meet you in person.”

she bounds over, pulling you into a quick hug before stepping back to introduce you to the others. 

“everyone, this is y/n. our new superstar signing, she comes from arsenal.”

you roll your eyes, playfully, at her playful tone but appreciate the effort to make you feel welcome. 

“hi, i’m svenja,” says one of the older players, her voice warm. 

“and this is alex.” she gestures to alexandra popp, who steps forward with a grin.

“welcome to wolfsburg,” alex says, her hug firm but comforting. 

“we’re glad you chose us.”

“thank you,” you reply, feeling some of the tension ease. 

“i’m happy to be here.”

“good,” alex says, her grin widening. 

“because we’re excited to have you.”

before you can respond, sveindís tugs your arm. 

“come on, i have to introduce you to someone.”

you let her lead you across the room, stopping in front of a tall blonde with sharp features and an easy smile. 

“y/n, this is lynn. lynn, y/n.”

“oh my goodness, y/n!! viv was telling me about you,” lynn says immediately, her tone light and friendly.

you blink, momentarily caught off guard. 

“oh, yeah. she mentioned you, too.”

lynn’s smile softens, and you feel your stomach flip unexpectedly. she’s stunning, but you quickly push that thought aside. 

it’s your first day. you can’t afford to let your mind wander like that. 

“i hope she said good things,” lynn teases.

“all good,” you reply, managing to smile back. 

“good. let me know if you need anything,” lynn says before turning back to her locker. 

you exhale quietly, grateful to have gotten through that interaction without embarrassing yourself.

fenna and lineth come and hug you as well, two dutch players who were told good things about you, from vivianne.

an hour later, training starts with light warm-ups and passing drills, giving you a chance to get a feel for the team’s rhythm. everything feels sharper, faster, compared to what you were used to at arsenal. 

it’s exhilarating and overwhelming all at once.

when it’s time to pair up for a passing exercise, you hesitate, expecting to be partnered with one of the assistant coaches. before you can step forward, sveindís speaks up.

“y/n, you’re with lynn.”

your head snaps up. 

“oh, i can—”

“don’t worry,” lynn cuts in with a small smile. 

“i’ve got you.”

you nod, trying not to overthink it as you move to stand across from her. the exercise begins, and you quickly fall into a rhythm. lynn’s passes are precise, her movements fluid. 

it’s easy to see why she’s such a key player for both wolfsburg and the dutch national team.

“you’re good,” lynn says after a particularly quick exchange. 

“arsenal trained you well.”

“thanks,” you reply, feeling a bit of pride creep in despite yourself. 

“you’re not so bad either.”

the woman two years older than you laughs, the sound light and genuine. 

“not so bad? i’ll take it.”

as the session progresses, the two of you find a groove. you take your roles seriously, but there’s an ease between you that makes it fun. 

at one point, lynn fakes a pass, causing you to stumble slightly. you didn’t fall on the ground, thankfully, but you laugh as you sit your hands on your knees.

“really?” you say, raising an eyebrow.

“what?” she asks with a grin.

by the end of the session, you’re sweating and tired, but there’s a lightness in your chest that you haven’t felt in a long time. 

you walk off the pitch and take a glance at lynn, who’s chatting with some of the other players. you can’t help but smile.

wolfsburg already feels different. better. for the first time in a long time, you don’t feel nervous or scared about training. 

the coaches are firm but fair, in contrast to jonas, and your teammates seem genuinely supportive. 

there’s lynn too. 

you push the thought aside again as you step into the locker room. today was a good day. you’ll let yourself enjoy it without overanalyzing. 

part two here

[pandorias-box]

//HI i got tagged in this so i figured i’d be nice and do this as well and shout out some blogs and blorbos i like (but i’ll try not to tag too many bc some people have already mentioned them before)

//list is below the cut because it’s a bit long

@from-ultra-space - fellow blue bitch! we’ve written a ton of integral plotlines together and they’ve been an ally of pandoria since the beginning.

@pkmnspacehistory - really cool integration of actual aerospace history with the pokemon world in addition to being an interesting concept in general

@vulgrados-best - MIGUEL. OH MIGUEL. i’ve been following the redux crew intensely for the past few months and i love all of the muns and muses within that storyline but especially miguel. i can’t wait for hir to get in the spotlight but im also scared because the redux is. a lot. (for the sake of the other muns of the redux crew, i will not be tagging them all but there is an ongoing arc with them and @/yveltal-real that is happening and if you want to check them out because their storylines are so good)

@wandering-white-dwarf - another zinnia blog! god there are. a lot of them, but this is the one i’ve interacted with the most. i love seeing people’s individual takes on canon characters and this is no exception

@lumenflowered - i have never played bloodborne but all i know is that lady maria of the clocktower is so fucking cool and all of the arcs you have done with her and other fallers connected to the soulsborne games are so interesting to me.

@tinkatinktrain - they mylahhhhhhhh. god she’s just like me fr (attempting to be silly despite the horrors persisting). even if our character’s haven’t interacted that much, seeing their posts on my dash makes me do the occasional audible chuckle.

@water-pokemon-appreciator - another rotumblr funnyman. pandoria may be sick of his shit but i’m not. sidon is such a good way to make an “overpowered” character seem down to earth instead of someone who just overexploits their abilities. i mean, he does use them in incredibly mundane situations sometimes and it’s funny.

@battle-subway-ghost - YOU. the one who tagged me for this ask game. i’ve been loosely following paris and sprite (@/thatfailedpokemontrainer) ever since i started rotumblr. much like with the reduxverse, i’m engaged with a bunch of the plotlines you’ve come up with over the amount of time i’ve been in the community.

// what if we all tagged our favorite blogs and went to check eachother's favorite blogs out as a result of tagging our favorite blogs. what then