#I'm still trying to figure out if I'm happy with her outfit or not so we'll figure that out later

[sysig]

Leftovers gone bad (Patreon)

[fo-enjoyer]

Ok I'm kind of proud of this show edit, experiment, tracing things? Idk. But whatever it is it's cool

The original image under vvv

Also it with no lines

[moonchildstyles]

harry at these soccer games…… 🥸🥸🥸 now THATS! my baby daddy prosecco h🥸

wordcount: 3.2k+

—————

"Sweetheart, are y'almost ready?" 

(Y/N) wanted to roll her eyes, huff out an attitude and shout back to Harry that she'd be ready when she was ready, until she saw the time. 

They were now running fifteen minutes behind.

To be fair, she thought she was doing much better on time than she actually was. She had figured the last time he had shouted to her was only a short two minutes ago, but it appeared he had given her a full ten minutes and she was still working on getting her hair to lay the way she wanted. At least her makeup was done and her outfit was laid out on her bed. 

"Almost," (Y/N) called back over the sound of the hairdryer, working the device a bit quicker over her strands. 

"We need to leave in five minutes, love. We're already running a little late, so try to be ready soon." 

Her lips thinned at his evergreen patience. Now she felt that much more guilty for almost giving him attitude. Besides, today was for him, one of the very few times he allowed himself to be the focus of their activities, the least she could do was hurry up and little and let him enjoy it to the fullest. 

Despite still not being happy with her hair, she took the strands at what they were and turned off the dryer. Worst case, she'd stick a claw clip in and hope that concealed the untamable strands. Rushing back to her bedroom, she made quick work of wiggling into her outfit. Finishing touches came in the form of clumsy perfume spritzes, extra swipes of lip gloss before shoving the tube in her bag, and blindly stuffing her feet into her shoes. 

Skittering out of her bedroom, she met Harry where he was standing with his phone in hand, forehead creased. 

"I'm ready, I'm sorry," (Y/N) blurted, fastening her emergency claw clip to the handle of her purse, "We can go." 

Harry looked up at her, clearly stressed with lines around his eyes and lips thinned, "'S alright, love. Y'look pretty." 

"Worth the wait?" she teased, feeling her cheeks warm from his smile praise.

The worry lines on his face melted some as she spoke, "Always. C'mon, pretty." 

Setting her hand in the crook of Harry's offered arm, (Y/N) suddenly forgot about each strand of hair that wouldn't cooperate, the fold on the heel of her sock from stubbornly stepping into her shoes. There was no way she could feel less than perfect when Harry talked to her that way—when he looked at her like that. 

—————

After the debacle of finding a parking space among the crowded lot, (Y/N) wasn't excited to see the amount of people that outnumbered the cars they had already trekked through. While she definitely enjoyed her nightlife, bar hopping among different crowds, there was something definitely much less appealing about this crowd she found herself among. 

(It was probably the lack of alcohol, if she was being honest). 

"Where are our seats?" (Y/N) murmured, clutching Harry's hand to keep him from straying. 

Absently peeking at the ticket on his phone, Harry rattled off the section and seat numbers. Truthfully, the information didn't mean much to her given that Harry was in charge of leading them to where they needed to go; she had hoped he would tell her in general where they would be watching the match, as in by the goal or something. 

She hummed in response, letting him pull her to go ahead of him as they ventured into a particularly congested area of the arena. A line for the concessions converged with the line of eager fans attempting to get special edition merchandise for the event, enough activity to leave a narrow space for both flows of traffic to travel through. 

"Jus' go straight ahead," Harry murmured as he ducked down to her ear, his hands on her waist from behind. 

A string of excuse me and sorry fell from her lips every time she encountered a new body, her steps minuscule as they moved beyond. If she had even wanted anything to drink or snack on during the game, there was no way she was even attempting the line unless they found a less noticeable stall or until everyone cleared out. 

Popping out on the other side, (Y/N) found a small space out of the way before turning to look at Harry once more. He made sure they got through the worst of it together, but his captaining job was far from over if the rest of the stadium was anything like that. 

"Y'okay, pretty?" he asked, looking to her through the dark of his shades though the stern line of his lips showed off all of his concern. 

"Yeah," she sighed, anchoring herself once more with a grip on his hand, "Just a lot of people. I wasn't expecting this." 

He hummed an acknowledgment to her as they started down the curving corridor along the bowl of the venue. "I've been wanting to take y'to other matches before this one, but someone's always too busy." 

The look he cast over his sunnies was accusing, though it lost much of his grit when a slight smile tugged at the corners of his lips. 

"Because I am," (Y/N) countered, just a pitch away from a whine in her voice, "And, I don't think I've been missing out on much if this is how these things go." 

"'S no different than one of your concerts, love," he mused, ever-patient as he counted off each of the section headers above the doors leading to the seating, "And this is a big match, anyway. They're usually not this crazy." 

Before she could offer anything in response, Harry rapidly pulled her out of the way as a group of shirtless men with green painted torsos barreled through the corridor, drunken laughter spilling in their wake. His features were set in stiff lines as he looked over his shoulder at the rowdy group disappearing. 

"Maybe a little worse than your concerts, actually," he muttered, the admission made under his breath as he opted to keep his arm around her waist as opposed to leashing her by his hand. Easier to keep her safe. 

With that, he became her guard dog for the trek, sharp eyes keeping watch for any and everything that might cause his pretty girl harm while finding their seats. Rowdy patrons or those unwilling to give her space were given sharp glare before Harry elbowed around them, ensuring no one touched even a single hair on the top of her head. 

It was enough to have (Y/N) sighing as if in a dream. It was cute seeing him act this way, protective and adoring. It was even more interesting to see others' reactions to his behavior; when others cowered out of the way, (Y/N) wondered what was going on in their head. She couldn't imagine wanting to go the opposite direction of her Harry, not even when he had his lips pursed and eyes narrowed. She was too familiar with the dimples hiding in the folds of his cheeks or the bunny-like front teeth shielded by lips. 

"I'll go first this time. Hang onto me," Harry directed once they reached the correct section. 

As he started down the flight of stairs, he reached a hand out behind him for (Y/N) to take. She didn't hesitate before clutching his fingers, his grip tight as he started descending to their row. Looking around at the arena of fans around her, (Y/N) truthfully couldn't believe the energy. It was decidedly much different than any concert she had ever attended, even to ones she'd been to at this exact venue. 

There was almost something slightly aggressive about the audience with the differing sides mingling together, along with pints of alcohol and greasy food. There were costumed attendees complete with wild wigs and painted faces sat beside those with determined faces and brains full of the rulebook. Of course there were those like H, just excited to be there and hopeful for their favorite team, and those like her, there because someone they cared about wanted to be in attendance. 

Going lower and lower in the bowl, Harry finally stopped over a handful of rows away from the green. Pulling her to stand beside him, he pointed at a pair of vacant seats a few people in. 

"Those two, right there. I'll be right behind you," he murmured into her ear, urging her on with a hand on her back. 

Going ahead without a word, (Y/N) apologized as she skirted her way by those already sat down. She couldn't help the frown that plucked her features when the crowd around them erupted into cheers for no apparent reason. It spiked her anxiety, feeling as if they were missing something important, even if (Y/N) didn't really have any real interest in any of the events taking place this evening. 

Settling into her seat, she waited for Harry to join her with wide eyes. As soon as he caught the way she was looking at him, a small smile touched his cheeks. 

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" he uttered, sliding his sunglasses to the top of his head. 

"There's..." she trailed off, emphasizing her point with her eyes scanning around the stadium, "so much." 

"I know, right?" he muttered, a giddy undertone to his words, "'S exciting." 

"Something like that," she smiled, happy to see how excited he was to be here. 

"It'll be more fun when the match starts," he insisted, "Everyone settles down a little." 

"When does it start?" (Y/N) asked, watching as the jumbo screen above the field went through an advertisement for the cheese sticks available at the concession stand. If she wasn't turned off by the mess of a line they'd seen, she would be asking Harry if they could grab an order of the fried cheese. 

Harry hummed, checking his phone. "Not for another forty-five minutes." 

Just as he spoke, just a couple of rows ahead of them, a pair of strangers began loudly arguing about some statistics she had no context for. 

This was going to be a long forty-five minutes. 

—————

Shooting to her feet, (Y/N) followed Harrys cue as he cheered. She wasn't exactly sure what for, considering she didn't see any of the players make a goal, but she would just have to ask about those rules later. For now, she clapped and cheered with him, watching from the corner of her eye for when he took his seat again. 

When the crowd settled once more, Harry held a giddy smile on his face, nose pinkened by the time in the sun. As much as this match wasn't her cup of tea, seeing him having fun the way he was definitely made up for some of the discomfort and how lost she was rules-wise. 

Leaning over the armrest with her mouth hovering by his ear, she asked the same question she'd already posed periodically through the match, "Good?" 

"Really good, pretty!" he answered in a chirp, "We've got the ball now." 

"Ohhh," she sounded. It was news to her that their preferred team didn't have the ball already. 

The ball was nothing more than a black and white spot going across the green while colorful jerseys followed after. The audience was raptured, almost caught in silence while the plays were made, but (Y/N) was much more interested in watching Harry. 

While he wasn't completely committed to watching any and every game that came on the television, she could tell being here was especially exciting for him. It made her excited about the game just seeing how much it meant to him; she was this close to grabbing a jersey to keep at his house for the nights she spent over. 

She couldn't help but to angle herself as close as possible to him despite the armrest separating them, leaving her arm pressed flush against his. Harry didn't even glance at her before he was lifting that same arm and dropping it around her shoulders, keeping her close. 

"Thank you for coming with me, sweetheart," he murmured into her ear, his voice clear over the rush of the crowd. A delicate kiss was placed on her temple, his lips warmer than even the sun's rays on the grass. 

She beamed up at him, admiring the angles of his features. The height of his cheekbones, the line of his sun kissed nose, the length of his curling lashes. Her man. 

"Thank you for bringing me," she said, craning her neck just enough to press her lips to the stubbled cheek. 

She could feel the dip of his dimple underneath her lips as he smiled.

Just then, a seemingly important goal was made. Harry pulled her to stand up and cheer with him, his hands over his head with the rest of the excitable crowd. 

"Did you see that!?" Harry yelled, eyes wide and smile broad. 

Of course she didn't. She was busy kissing on her boyfriend, she wasn't watching the match. 

Nonetheless, seeing him smile made it that much easier for her to do the same. "That was crazy!" 

His expression—bright eyes with a wide smile, his cheeks holding a pinkened glow—was well worth her little fib. 

—————

"That's gonna look really cute on you, sweetheart." 

(Y/N)'s beaming smile was directed up at Harry, looking at the colorful jersey he'd purchased for her. It was truthfully not her color, and the fit was going to be something she was going to have to fight to style to her liking, but it was Harry's favorite player. More than anything, this was for him, something she was going to keep at his home for the night she would spend in his bed. 

"You think so?" she chirped, looking up at him with bright eyes. Maybe her words were a bit of a ploy, fishing for some compliments. Could anyone blame her? Hearing softened words wrapped up in his voice, all while he was looking at her, was all too easy to become addicted to. 

"I know so, love," he smiled, quickly casting his eyes to the line of cars slowly moving ahead of them, "Gonna wear it tonight?" 

Her smile turned a bit sheepish as his voice drawled around the question. "I can, if you want." 

When she peeked at him from the corner of her eye, she saw the way his eyes dropped to the jersey in her lap back up to the line of her profile. There was a shade to his gaze now, something warming through the green of his irises as he looked at her. The raspberry of his lips was slicked over by the top of her tongue just before his attention was called back to the windscreen. 

"I want." 

The breathy laugh that fell from her lips was just as dazed as it was spurred on by the butterflies awakening in her stomach. "I can do that." 

Harry hummed, reaching over to place his palm against her thigh. Traffic finally began to shift from the stop and go lock the car park was caught in, into a slow crawl, leaving his eyes fixed on the windshield instead of on his pretty girl. Instinctively, she angered her body towards him, settling her palm atop his hand. 

The dimple in his cheek was his only acknowledgment of her move. "Did y'really have fun today, love?" 

"I did," she chirped, bouncing in her seat, "I don't think I really get it still, but it was so fun to see all of the people. It made me excited even though I didn't really know what for." 

"Yeah?" he smiled, glancing at her as he shifted into the flow of traffic, "'M happy y'had fun. I know 's not really your thing, but it means a lot that y'came with me. Thank you, pretty girl." 

This time, the warming pit in her stomach flushed away into something delicate, full of cotton candy clouds and saccharine threads. She was sure her eyes were practically hearts at this point, trained right on him.

"You always come to me with all of my favorite stuff, so I'm happy we did something for you today. You had fun today, right?"

"So much, baby. I always have fun with you." 

She could have melted right into the leather of her seat if not for his hand on her thigh holding her together. 

"I always have fun with you, too," she murmured, reaching across the center console until she had her lips pressed to his cheek. It was a lingering touch, something she was well aware she needed to cut short given the cars racing outside the windows, but she couldn't help but to take her time. The stubble under her kiss prickled against her lips, against the tip of her nose. "I love you." 

As she settled back into her spot, Harry's grip tightened on her leg. "Pretty, I can't pull over right now." 

Blinking at him, she sounded, "Huh?" 

He shook his head, clicking his tongue. "Y'can't act like that—kissing on me and whispering—when I've got to keep us safe. 'S not fair, I want to kiss you, too." 

Biting back a smile, she wrapped her fingers around his clenching palm. "Just find a shoulder or something," she suggested, "Or, I'm sure we'll get to a red light at some point." 

He seemed to consider the former suggestion for a moment, eyes glancing out the windscreen to the lanes before them. After a moment, he shook his head. "I'll save it for when we're home. Are y'spending the night?" 

"I can if you want." 

"I want." 

This time, she couldn't help but let out a full, bubbling laugh. His response was quick—too quick to hide anything. "Are we still stopping for dinner?" she asked, despite knowing the likely answer. 

"No." 

Maybe she was missing the feel of his stubbled cheek, or she was teasing him just a little, but she couldn't help but to lean across and press another kiss to his cheek. 

His hand on her thigh moved in an instant, landing on the back of her neck in a weighty press. 

"Pretty." 

"Sorry," she giggled, pulling away though Harry's hand stayed just where it was on the back of her neck, "I'll stop." 

The sunburned glow to his nose and cheeks was only emboldened by the flush touching the cream of his skin. "Y'better, love. Y'like being good for me, right?" 

It was her turn to feel the warmth, the pad of his thumb skating over the column of her throat. "Yeah. Sorry, H." 

He gave one more lingering pulse of his fingers before his palm dragged down the curve of her throat and the length of her arm until it was back in her lap. "It's alright, sweetheart. Jus' save it for m'bedroom. And your new little shirt."

Who was she to turn down a plan like that? 

Maybe, they were going to have to start going to more of these matches. Especially if they ended like this.

—————

ive missed my king Prosecco:( I really hope everyone enjoys how this turned out! thank u sm for reading, sorry for any mistakes, and if theres anything fun you want to share send them in!!!!!

[helen-with-an-a]

would you consider a part 2 to be the best?

maybe everyone realises reader making an effort and she starts to get closer at team bonding nights etc. then gets angry and thinks everyone will go back to hating her but happy ending

Hiiii - so I hope you enjoy this - I might make another part, I might not - I'm not quite sure

Be The Best part 3

AWFC x Reader

Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3

Description: R joins the team on a trip to the cinema

Word Count: 4.4k

Deciding what to wear – it seemed like such a simple task, yet it was the one thing consuming your thoughts. It was more than just picking an outfit; it felt like the key to unlocking your entire evening. If you could just figure out what to wear, then maybe everything else would follow. The outfit could set the tone, give you confidence, and make you feel ready to face whatever was coming your way. Or at least, that's what you kept telling yourself, over and over, as if the right choice of clothes could somehow solve all your other problems too. The pressure to get it right was overwhelming, as if choosing the perfect outfit would magically make everything else fall into place.

But it wasn’t even a special occasion – it was just the cinema. A casual, relaxed outing, nothing crazy, nothing formal. Just the cinema. You were going to watch a movie, sit in the dark for a couple of hours, and maybe grab a snack or two. No big deal. It wasn’t like you were going to a fancy dinner or an important meeting. Just the cinema.

And yet, it wasn’t just the cinema. It was the cinema with your friends, work colleagues, people you have definitely bullied at times. You knew you had to strike a delicate balance – casual, but not too casual; relaxed, but still put together. It wasn’t simply about the clothes. It was about perception, about how the others would see you and what they would think. Every choice seemed to carry a weight that extended far beyond fabric and fashion. Would they notice if you were too dressed up, standing out like you were trying too hard? Or would they judge you if you were too laid-back, as if you didn’t care at all?

For most people, it was just a routine outing, something they had done countless times. But for you, it was uncharted territory, an experience you’d only heard about or seen in movies themselves. The idea of sitting in a dark theatre, surrounded by others, watching a story unfold on a massive screen – this was completely new. You didn’t know the unspoken rules, the social cues that everyone else seemed to take for granted. How were you supposed to act? What was the right amount of enthusiasm or restraint?

And what about conversation? That was another minefield altogether. You knew the basic rule: no talking during the film. That part seemed straightforward enough. But what about before the film started, when everyone was finding their seats, shuffling in with popcorn and drinks? Was there a right way to initiate small talk in those brief moments of dimmed lights and hushed voices? Should you comment on the previews, ask about their day, or maybe even crack a light joke to ease any tension? Or would it be better to keep it simple, just a casual greeting before settling into the silence? The uncertainty gnawed at you, making it difficult to predict how you should approach those moments.

And then there was the aftermath, the part that seemed the most daunting of all. What would you talk about after the film ended? How do people usually transition from the intensity of the movie back to regular conversation? Should you start with your thoughts on the film, maybe offer an opinion or ask for theirs? But what if your opinions didn’t match? What if you missed a key detail, or your interpretation was off? Would you come across as clueless or out of touch? You didn’t want to be the one who misread the mood, who either overanalysed every scene or brushed off the film too casually.

What if they didn’t want to talk to you? That fear was the heaviest of all, lurking in the back of your mind and casting a shadow over everything else. Leah had promised that you were welcome to attend the team bonding event, insisting that it would be a good opportunity to relax and connect away from the pressures of the football field. But did they really want you there? Was her invitation genuinely extended on behalf of the entire team, or was it just a polite gesture, something she felt obligated to offer? The thought gnawed at you, making you second-guess every detail of the evening.

You had been so mean to them for so long – too long, really. Screaming had been your only form of communication, your voice always raised, always harsh, leaving no room for warmth or understanding. It was as if yelling was the only way you knew how to convey your thoughts, your frustrations, your demands.

Images of Kyra’s terrified eyes flashed across your mind, haunting you in those quiet moments when the noise of the day had finally died down. You remembered the way she would flinch whenever you called her name, her eyes wide and fearful, as if bracing herself for the inevitable onslaught. It wasn’t just once or twice – no, those moments were all too frequent, etched into the fabric of your daily routine. You could almost hear the echo of your own voice, sharp and cutting, as you berated her for the smallest mistakes, things that now seemed so insignificant in hindsight.

You had changed four times already, each outfit a different attempt to strike the right balance, to somehow capture the perfect blend of casual yet polished, approachable yet confident. Each time you thought you’d found the right look, doubt crept in, nagging at the edges of your mind until you found yourself back at the mirror, scrutinising every detail. First, it was joggers and T-shirt – too casual, you decided, too close to something you’d wear lounging around the house, not quite right for an evening where you wanted to make a better impression. Then came the one dress you owned – simple, comfortable, but suddenly it felt too much, as if you were trying too hard, the exact opposite of what you wanted.

You tried again, opting for a more relaxed outfit, a sweater and a pair of tailored pants, thinking this might strike the right chord. But as you stood there, looking at yourself, the reflection staring back seemed off, like you were wearing someone else’s clothes. You looked like you were going into a business meeting. It didn’t feel like you, or at least not the version of yourself you wanted to present tonight. So you changed again, this time into something more middle-ground, some baggy jeans and a top. But even then, you couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t quite right.

As you stood there in front of the mirror, surrounded by discarded outfits strewn across the bed, you wondered if maybe the clothes weren’t the real issue. Maybe it was the fact that no matter what you wore, you couldn’t escape the history you carried with you, the reputation you had built, and the uncertainty of whether any outfit could really make a difference in how you were perceived.

Your phone buzzed on the desk, the familiar vibration cutting through the thick fog of your thoughts. The sound startled you, pulling you out of the endless loop of doubt and second-guessing that had been consuming your mind for what felt like hours. You glanced over and saw the screen light up with your alarm, its insistent tone a stark reminder that time had finally run out. There was no more room for deliberation, no more opportunity to agonise over every detail.

It took you longer than expected to get to the cinema, your nerves slowing you down at every turn. The streets seemed unfamiliar, the route winding through a part of town that you rarely ventured into. As you navigated through the maze of side roads and intersections, you couldn't help but notice how different this area felt from your usual haunts. It was quieter, more residential, with an air of nostalgia that hung in the evening breeze. The buildings here had a certain charm, with their old-fashioned storefronts and quaint cafés, each one exuding a sense of history that made you feel like you had stepped back in time.

When you finally arrived at the cinema, it wasn’t what you had expected. You had envisioned something sleek and modern, a polished building with neon lights and a buzzing crowd. Instead, you found yourself standing in front of a place that felt like a hidden gem, tucked away from the busier parts of the city. The cinema was smaller, more intimate, and as you approached, you were struck by its unexpected charm. The exterior was unassuming, with a classic marquee that displayed the film titles in black letters against a white backdrop, the lights around it softly glowing in the dimming light.

Inside, the atmosphere was cozy and inviting, a far cry from the sterile, impersonal theatre you had walked past as a kid. It was cute – more retro than you had anticipated, with an ambiance that immediately put you at ease. The plush blue seats lined the aisles, each one a deep, rich shade that contrasted beautifully with the cream-colored walls. The seats looked like they had been carefully maintained, their upholstery soft and welcoming, as if they had been chosen for comfort rather than just practicality. The walls, with their creamy tones, added to the sense of warmth, their subtle detailing suggesting a bygone era when cinemas were more than just places to watch a film – they were places to experience something special.

"Hey, I'm glad you could make it," Kim said softly when she saw you arrive, her voice warm and welcoming. There was something genuine in her tone, a sincerity that caught you slightly off guard. It was as if she truly meant it, as if your presence was something she had been hoping for rather than just politely acknowledging. Her smile was gentle, her eyes reflecting a kindness that made you pause for a moment, unsure of how to respond.

You had been so wrapped up in your own anxieties, so convinced that your arrival would be met with indifference – or worse, thinly veiled discomfort – that her friendly greeting threw you off balance. For a split second, you hesitated, searching for the right words, something casual and appropriate to say in return. But nothing came out. Instead, you grimaced awkwardly back at her, your lips twisting into a half-hearted smile that you knew looked forced.

It was as though your body had betrayed you, refusing to cooperate in this moment of unexpected kindness. You could feel the tension in your shoulders, the way your jaw tightened as you struggled to mirror the warmth in Kim’s voice with an expression that didn’t come naturally to you. Inside, you were cringing at your own inability to respond with the same ease, the same natural friendliness that Kim seemed to embody so effortlessly.

Your grimace felt clumsy, a stark contrast to her welcoming demeanour. It was as if all the insecurities you had been trying to suppress suddenly bubbled up to the surface, making it impossible to relax and just be in the moment. You worried that Kim could see through your awkwardness, that she might pick up on the discomfort you were trying so hard to mask. Would she interpret it as reluctance? As a sign that you didn't really want to be there? The thought made your stomach twist, amplifying the awkwardness of the situation.

But Kim, ever gracious, didn’t let it faze her. She continued to smile, her eyes softening with understanding, as if she sensed your unease but chose not to dwell on it. Her kindness was unwavering, a quiet reassurance that perhaps, despite your own self-doubt, you were more welcome than you realised. “I think you’re the last one to arrive.”

“Sorry, it took longer than I thought to get here,��� you said, your voice tinged with an apologetic edge as you finally caught up with Kim. You tried to sound casual, but the nerves were evident in the way you fumbled with your words. Your gaze flickered around the room, searching for something to latch onto to avoid the awkwardness of the moment.

“No worries,” Kim replied with a reassuring smile, her tone light and understanding. “Was there much traffic?”

“Uh, no,” you began, your voice wavering slightly. You cleared your throat, trying to steady your nerves. “I mean, there wasn’t much traffic. I just – I've, I’ve just not been here before, so …” You trailed off, the words sputtering out like a car sputtering to a halt. The sentence hung in the air, unfinished and awkward.

You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks, a mix of embarrassment and discomfort. It wasn’t just the unfamiliarity of the location that threw you off; it was the whole social aspect of the evening that felt out of place.

“Hey, you came!” Leah shouted from across the lobby, her voice ringing out with a burst of enthusiasm that cut through the low murmur of conversation. The suddenness of her greeting was a relief, taking the spotlight off Kim and saving her from having to respond to your earlier, awkward attempt at small talk. Leah’s energy seemed to fill the space, her bright smile and warm manner making it clear that she was genuinely pleased to see you.

“Hi,” you whispered back, the word barely escaping your lips as you struggled to match her enthusiasm with your own shaky confidence. You felt a pang of awkwardness, compounded by the realisation that you were still adjusting to the surroundings

Leah, unfazed by your quiet response, continued with her upbeat tone. “Do you want to grab some snacks before you go in?”

Snacks? The word hit you like a revelation. You had always thought of the cinema as a place where people just sat in darkened rooms and watched movies, perhaps grabbing a quick drink from a vending machine if they were really desperate. But the idea of having snacks felt almost revolutionary. The concept of indulging in something edible during a film was so foreign to you that you blinked in surprise, momentarily caught off guard.

You looked around, taking in the lobby’s setup with new eyes. It was bustling with people moving toward a counter where a variety of snacks were displayed. The counter was an array of tempting options: large tubs of buttery popcorn and colourful sweets. The whole scene seemed like an elaborate concession to comfort, something you had never considered part of the cinema experience before.

Alessia, who had joined Leah in welcoming you, turned to you with a warm smile. “What’s your go-to?” she asked, her tone inviting and friendly. Her curiosity seemed genuine, and it made you feel a bit more at ease.

You hesitated, glancing at the array of snacks before you, feeling a bit overwhelmed. “I don’t know,” you admitted, your uncertainty evident. The variety of choices seemed almost overwhelming, and you weren’t sure where to start.

Alessia laughed lightly, a sound that was both comforting and disarming. “Ah, a ‘see how you feel’ kind of person,” she said, nodding knowingly as if she understood your approach. Her laughter and casual attitude made it clear that she wasn’t judging you, but rather finding your indecision endearing.

“Um, no,” you replied, feeling a bit embarrassed as you tried to explain. “I’ve not been to the cinema before.” The admission felt awkward, and you braced yourself for whatever reaction might follow.

Alessia stared at you, her eyes widening in shock. “What do you mean?” she asked, disbelief evident in her voice. “Surely you went growing up? I know we don’t have much time now, but still.”

You shifted uncomfortably, the weight of your admission feeling heavier under Alessia’s surprised gaze. “Uh, no. My, uh, my dad said it was a waste of time,” you said, your voice trailing off. The memory of your father’s dismissive attitude made you feel vulnerable, as if you were exposing a part of your past that was uncomfortable to revisit.

Alessia’s surprise was palpable, her mouth forming a small “O” as she processed what you had just revealed. Her eyes widened, clearly taken aback by the information. It was as if the notion of someone never having been to the cinema before was a concept so foreign that it took her a moment to fully grasp it. Her reaction was a blend of shock and genuine curiosity, making you feel even more self-conscious.

You could feel your face flush with embarrassment as you watched her reaction unfold. The realisation that you had just divulged a personal detail about your upbringing – a detail that seemed to have left such an impact on Alessia – made you mentally kick yourself. Why couldn’t you have just gone along with her question, given a generic answer, and avoided this awkward revelation altogether?

As Alessia’s initial shock gave way to a more empathetic expression, you mentally berated yourself for not just playing along. She could almost hear the internal dialogue in your head: “Why did I have to be so honest? Why couldn’t I just say I like popcorn or candy and leave it at that?” You bit your lip, hard, gasping slightly at the familiar pain.

But as you watched Alessia’s expression soften into one of understanding, you also noticed the subtle shift in her stance. She seemed genuinely concerned and determined to make sure you felt comfortable. Her initial shock had transformed into a compassionate response, as if she was now more committed than ever to ensuring that your first cinema experience was enjoyable and welcoming.

“Well, usually I go for some popcorn,” Alessia said with a casual shrug, her tone easy and conversational. “But I decided on Pick ‘n’ Mix today.” She paused, as if considering the options and her own choice. Her eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief and excitement, reflecting a genuine enthusiasm for the variety of treats on offer. “If you get some popcorn, we could share?” she suggested, her offer smooth and natural, as though it were the most effortless thing in the world.

“Y-you want to share?” you asked quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. The shock in your tone was palpable, your words tinged with disbelief. The notion that Alessia, someone who had been so kind and welcoming, would offer to share something as simple as popcorn with you felt almost surreal. The gesture seemed magnified by your own insecurities and the weight of your past interactions with her

.

You stood there, momentarily taken aback, struggling to reconcile Alessia’s warmth with the harshness you remembered from your own behaviour. It was as if her kindness had momentarily suspended reality, making you question whether you deserved such a generous offer. You had been so accustomed to keeping others at a distance, to reacting defensively or with hostility, that the idea of someone reaching out to you with genuine friendliness felt foreign and unexpected.

“Of course, come on, let’s get some popcorn,” Alessia said, her smile broadening into a welcoming expression that seemed to dispel any lingering awkwardness. Her enthusiasm was infectious, a burst of positive energy that made you feel more at ease despite your earlier reservations.

Without missing a beat, she reached out and gently grabbed your elbow, her touch both firm and reassuring.

The film wasn’t necessarily your choice, but as it played out on the screen, you found yourself increasingly engrossed. You never really had time for films – growing up, your father had made you watch old matches and now, as an adult, you did the same. There was something about the action, the romance, the unexpected twist at the end that drew you in and kept you close.

Sitting wedged in between Alessia and Leah wasn’t too bad either. In fact, it turned out to be one of the more pleasant surprises of the evening. Alessia, seated to your right, had a laugh that was genuinely infectious. Each time something amusing or surprising happened on the screen, her laughter would bubble up – a warm, genuine sound that was impossible not to be affected by. It was the kind of laugh that seemed to fill the room with a sense of shared joy, creating a subtle but tangible bond between you and the rest of the audience. Her enthusiasm was both comforting and uplifting, making the film experience feel even more enjoyable.

Leah, on your left, contributed to the cozy atmosphere with her own unique presence. She kept up a quiet commentary throughout the film, her murmurs barely audible but filled with insightful observations and humorous remarks. Her comments were like little nuggets of insight, offering a fresh perspective on the film's twists and turns. You had expected that her talking might become distracting or irritating, but instead, it had the opposite effect. Leah’s commentary felt like a private conversation that added another layer to your viewing experience, one that was both engaging and endearing.

Rather than finding Leah's remarks bothersome, you found yourself appreciating them. Her thoughtful, almost reverent musings about the film’s plot and characters added depth to your own viewing experience. It was as though she was sharing a part of her own enthusiasm and understanding with you, making the film feel more interactive and immersive. Each comment was delivered with a subtlety that ensured it didn't disrupt your enjoyment, but rather complemented it, adding an extra dimension to your engagement with the story.

The combination of Alessia’s lively, infectious laughter and Leah’s quiet, reflective commentary created a perfect balance that made sitting between them a surprisingly enjoyable experience. It turned out to be a blend of energy and insight that enhanced the film’s appeal, making the whole experience feel more communal and enjoyable.

“Oh, my god. That was so good!” Stina cheered as you all left the theater, her excitement practically radiating from her. Her blonde ponytail whipped from side to side with each enthusiastic hop down the steps, creating a lively and contagious energy that seemed to spread through the group. Stina’s reaction was a burst of pure, unfiltered enthusiasm, her voice ringing with genuine excitement about the film you had just seen.

Conversations about favourite scenes and surprising plot twists began to bubble up, each person eager to share their thoughts and opinions on the film. It was as if Stina’s initial reaction had unlocked a wave of shared enthusiasm that everyone was eager to join in on.

“Yeah, that twist at the end was incredible!” Steph chimed in, her voice laced with amazement. “I didn’t see that coming at all.” The sentiment was echoed by several others, their faces animated with excitement as they recounted their favourite moments. The film had clearly struck a chord with the group, and the sense of collective satisfaction was palpable. Had this been what you were missing out on every time you declined an invite?

Before you could get too far into your head, Kim came up behind you, her shoulder gently nudging yours in a friendly, almost reassuring manner. The touch was light but deliberate, a small gesture that drew you back from your swirling thoughts and into the present moment. Her presence was warm and grounding, a reminder that you were part of a group, and her approachable demeanor made it easier to transition from the excitement of the film to the next part of the evening.

“So, what did you think?” Kim asked, her voice filled with genuine interest. There was a subtle anticipation in her tone, an expectation that your opinion would contribute to the collective conversation.

“I liked the film. It was very good,” you responded, your voice steady but still tinged with the residual excitement from the movie. You were still processing the film’s impact and the lively discussion that had followed, and Kim’s question provided a moment to articulate your enjoyment. It felt good to share your positive reaction, to be part of the enthusiastic response that had characterised the group’s reactions.

Kim’s eyes brightened at your response, and she smiled with a hint of mischief. “Good enough to come to dinner with us?” she asked, her tone light and inviting.

You froze for a moment, a sudden wave of uncertainty washing over you. Did Kim really want you to join them for dinner? The question seemed to echo in your mind, stirring up a flurry of anxious thoughts. The idea of continuing the evening with the group was both inviting and intimidating, and you couldn’t help but question whether you truly belonged in this social setting.

A twinge of apprehension gnawed at you as you considered the possibility of making a mistake. What if you inadvertently did something wrong or said something out of turn? The fear of misstepping or failing to live up to the group’s expectations loomed large. You imagined potential scenarios where your actions might not align with the group’s dynamics, leading to awkwardness or discomfort.

And what if you got angry with them again? What if you ruined the night? What if you did something wrong and they kicked you off the team? A tight knot of anxiety bubbled up in your chest, making it difficult to fully embrace the invitation. The prospect of making a good impression and avoiding past mistakes felt like a significant challenge. Taking a deep breath, you reminded yourself that Kim’s invitation was a gesture of goodwill, a sign that your presence was valued and welcomed.

“Umm, yeah, yeah, I think so,” you said, your voice gaining confidence as you spoke. “If that’s ok with you?” The question was as much about seeking reassurance as it was about confirming your participation. It was a polite gesture, ensuring that your presence was welcome and that you weren’t imposing on the group’s plans.

Kim’s smile widened, and she gave you a reassuring nod. “Absolutely, it’s totally okay,” she said warmly. “We’d love to have you join us. It’s just a casual dinner, nothing too formal. We’re all going to this great place nearby – should be a lot of fun!”

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

red wine | f. odair

masterlist

summary: you and finnick spend the evening together at a party in president snow’s mansion. hidden feelings reveal that things are much more complicated than they seem.

pairing: finnick odair x reader

warnings: alcohol use, mentions of alcoholism, fluff, flirting, mutual pining, minor angst

notes: i'm really proud of how this one turned out. someone better enjoy it.

word count: 1.3k

The entire room was buzzing, a party at Snow’s Mansion in full swing. People were chatting, laughing, and dancing, and yet all Finnick could focus on was you. Your rosy smile. Your sparkling eyes. Your laugh that rang like a perfectly pitched bell. He had never heard anything more harmonic.

Drunk on sweet red wine, your head fell back with every word that left his mouth. His natural wits and humour only seemed to heighten your amusement.

“…such a liar!”

“No, I’m serious,” Finnick urged, grinning. “Go look if you don’t believe me.”

Your cheeks hurt from smiling so much, but you couldn’t stop. After winning the 70th Hunger Games, you thought happiness was something impossible to regain. Many visits to the Capitol resulted in you meeting the famous Finnick Odair, who, over the course of many months, had gained your friendship and showed you that light could still be found in the darkness that was being a Victor.

“Fine, Finnick. I believe you—President Snow has cats dressed in little white suits running around his mansion.”

“Thank you!”

You weren’t sure how you ended up talking about Snow’s cats. You weren’t sure when the wine had seeped into your brain, making the subject so irrationally hilarious. All you knew was that it didn’t matter what Finnick was talking about. What mattered was that he was talking about it with you.

Throughout the night, all types of women had thrown themselves at him. Beautiful women. Old women. Women who were surgically enhanced to resemble animals. But he rejected them all to stay by your side. Another girl came swooping in, asking him for a dance. She was incredibly attractive, her eyes dark and sultry, her hair pin-straight and hanging at her waist.

Her ensemble was entirely made out of fur that clung to her body, complementing the whiskers that were embedded in her face which made her look feline. You thought for certain he would whisk her away.

But once again, he proved you wrong.

His hand fell on your hip, pulling you into his side. “Sorry, honey. I’ve already got a dancing partner tonight.”

That sobered you up a little.

The woman pouted, her whisker implants drooping as she left in the opposite direction.

You glanced nervously at the large hand still cupping your hip before looking back up at Finnick. “I am not dancing in front of these people.”

“Why not? You’re a great dancer.” He smirked. “Remember that time I walked in on you dancing in one of the bathrooms? That thing you were doing with your hips?” He blew out a breath of air.

Warmth flooded your cheeks. That had been the first time you met Finnick. You were a borderline alcoholic back then, having just become a Victor and all. Still, dancing in a bathroom was tough. Having the Capitol’s heartthrob catch you was even tougher.

“You know, your face is almost as red as that gorgeous dress you’re wearing,” he teased.

Everyone at the party was weighed down with extravagant and obnoxious attire which, to Finnick, resembled aliens trying to impersonate human fashion. But not you though. You wore a simple floor-length silk dress that was the colour of blood. There was nothing remarkable about the gown, yet Finnick found it to be the loveliest thing he had ever seen—a breath of fresh air compared to everyone else’s ridiculous artificial outfits. Or maybe it was just the person wearing it that made him feel this way.

You hiccupped. “I’m just trying to achieve the monarchy look.”

He shook his head, still grinning. “You mean the monochromatic look?” Your expression morphed into one of puzzlement as if you were trying to figure out the secrets of the universe. Finnick chuckled, swiping his thumb across your warm cheek. “Don’t hurt yourself, sweetheart. You’re very drunk.”

“Only a little.”

He watched as your eyes closed, swaying on your feet. There was a small smile on your face, seemingly absorbing the lively atmosphere around you. The thumping music; the sound of laughter, and the warmth of alcohol buzzing in your brain. If the entire room weren’t swarming with his customers and the President’s guards, he probably would have kissed you. And if you were in your right mind, he probably would have confessed his feelings too.

Too many variables worked against him. So, instead, he cleared his throat and said, “Maybe you should call it a night. Before you end up in the bathrooms again.”

You laughed, eyes opening again. He laughed with you, but your drunken mind failed to notice the deep affection his gaze suddenly held. A lot of things had slipped past you that night. If only you had seen them; things between the two of you would be so much more different. Less complicated. More true.

Finnick helped you gather your things, shooing away every man who asked to take you home on your way out. Somewhere along the way, his hand had interlocked with yours. This you noticed. The wine only seemed to enhance the butterflies fluttering around your stomach. It sent sparks up your arm, beginning in your fingertips which rested between his knuckles.

Eventually, he had successfully assisted—half-carried—you down the palace steps and into the backseat of your ride home.

“Don’t get into any trouble without me, Finnick Odair,” you said, looking up at him from your seat.

His dimples grew deep with a genuine smile, dishevelled hair blowing in the soft night wind. He rested a hand on the door. You wished he would step into the car with you.

Once more, he gently brushed his thumb against your cheek. “Never without you, sweetheart.”

A subtle confession. And then the door shut.

Finnick watched the taillights fade into the dark as you disappeared down the long driveway. Gone. Until the next party, that is. Or maybe even before then, if he finally gathered up the courage to convince you to flee Panem with him. Only then would he be free to pursue his feelings for you.

Johanna, who had been threatened into coming to the party by the President, found Finnick at the bottom of the palace steps, solemnly staring into the darkness. She stepped beside him. He didn’t seem startled; he barely even noticed her presence.

“You okay?” she asked flatly. When Finnick said nothing, she tried again. “You two looked friendly tonight.”

The muscle in his jaw ticked. Was it that obvious? Who else noticed?

“Johanna,” he finally acknowledged her existence. “If I asked you to put an axe in my head, would you?”

“Not that I wouldn’t be happy to do so, but why, may I ask?”

His hard-set lips quirked at the question. Why? Shades of red flooded his mind like an open floodgate. Crimson of a silk dress. Cherry of painted lips. Pink of blushing cheeks. All of which flowed through his red-blooded veins and straight into his heart.

Laughter in the tune of a perfected melody echoed in his ears, the image of a beaming smile accompanying it. Then there was the voice, “Don’t get into any trouble without me, Finnick Odair.” He hung onto every word that voice spoke. All the philosophical thoughts it had spoken aloud; the nonsensical wine-drunken babbling, and the gentle whispers that longed for a simpler life which he had the honour of being trusted with. Your voice. Your words.

Everything that made you who you were—that was the answer to Johanna’s question. The reasoning behind Finnick’s next words.

“I’m in love with her.”

Surprise briefly flickered across Johanna’s features, then returned to their usual monotony state. “Well… that’s not good.”

“No,” he spoke, his eyes lingering on the ominous white roses that lined either side of the driveway. “It’s not.”

part two

[all4aoki]

⠀⠀ ☆ ░ ִ⠀ׂ NOW PLAYING . . . Hype Boy (250 Remix) NewJeans

your boys love your instagram almost as much as you do . . . enha x f!reader, poly!enha, enha8thmember

wc . . . 2.7k , warnings ! none, just fluff!

©all4aoki, 2024

You were very proud of the image you’d built yourself. It was the perfect mix of your authentic self, the sensitive and shy, with the personality HYBE had wanted for you, borderline hyper feminine and maybe a little more energetic than you usually were. But nonetheless, the soft, princess-y aesthetic you now exuded was something you thoroughly enjoyed. Fans did too, and that made sharing your life with them all that more enjoyable.

“Are you sure I’m centered?” you asked Sunoo and he shuffled backwards a bit at your question. “Sun, that’s not an answer.”

“Calm down, princess, I'm just trying to get your whole outfit in the frame,” he said, eyes glued onto your phone screen. Finding places to take Instagram pictures at music shows was difficult. Not to say you weren’t a fan of the infamous pink wall of MBC, or the stairs from KBS, but you were a perfectionist and could only take so many pictures in front of them. So, after finding the prettiest spot by a large set of windows that showcased the beautiful weather that day, you couldn’t help but stop to snap a few pictures for a future post or photo dump.

You were just lucky that you had the most amazing boyfriends to help you take pictures.

“Woah! Did I just die and go to heaven?” You continued posing as Heeseung and Jake walked by, deciding to join you and Sunoo.

“Get out of here, Heeseung-hyung. She doesn’t need you distracting her–” Sunoo’s jaw dropped a bit as you changed the way you were standing once again. “Yah, what did they put in your water today?”

You giggled, feeling your face heat up at the compliments being thrown your way. “Stop!”

“So pretty!” Jake cheered as the three boys smiled at your fluster. “Gorgeous! Amazing! Wonderful!”

“Ahh!” you cried, covering your face with your hands to try and hide the pink that’d joined the makeup blush on your cheeks. You had a love-hate relationship when your boyfriends would watch you take photos. It was adorable with the way they fawned over you, shouting praises and fighting over who was holding the camera. But whenever they were around, you always ended up having too much fun instead of taking your tasks seriously.

That, and they had a rather cruel enjoyment of teasing you.

“Cute!” Heeseung joined Jake’s encouragements, using a tone that was similar to when he spoke to cute kids or animals.

Sunoo ignored them, but a small smile still remained on his lips. Anyone could tell that he was simply enjoying the sight of you. “Turn your head to the left a little,” he instructed and you did as he asked. And as you smiled for the camera, their small gasps of awe and tiny cheers continued. The three boys couldn’t believe you were real. The way your hair flowed effortlessly and how your makeup had been applied that day only added to your natural beauty. And the way the rhinestone decorated skirt clung to your hips and the matching top wrapped around your torso made you appear almost dreamlike. But they figured it made sense that someone so beautiful on the inside was also unbelievably stunning on the outside.

It was the little moments like these that they took to bask in their love for you. Watching as you act so naturally was like watching the sun break through the clouds on a rainy day, giving them spurts of happiness through the stressful times of promotion. When you shyly accepted their words of affection, that relaxed, blissed feeling of everything being at ease spread through each of them.

“Okay, okay,” you said suddenly, running up to Sunoo to grab your phone. “I’m done now.”

“What?” Sunoo said, turning his body so your hand missed the electronic. “But I didn’t even get any with you!”

“I didn’t know that you wanted to take any!” you laughed, trying to swipe for your phone again. Sunoo nodded his head as he maneuvered his arms so they were wrapped around you.

Jake took the phone from the younger, “I want some too.”

You sighed, walking back to the spot by the window as Sunoo clung onto your back. “Heeseung-oppa I’m guessing you’ll want some too?”

He grinned, “Of course.”

“Ok. Can you kiss me first?” Sunoo asked, interrupting Heeseung. In response, your hands found their way to the soft skin of his cheeks and Sunoo tilted his head over your shoulder so you could reach him. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Jake angling the phone with a few words of help from Heeseung. Sunoo nudged your head with his, drawing your attention back to him, “Kiss me.”

Without wasting another second, you did just that. Your fingers trailed along the skin of his neck as he pressed his lips against yours again and again. The faint sound of the iPhone camera shuttering being the only thing keeping you from losing yourself in the love you had for your boyfriends.

After you had satisfied the three’s need for pictures with you, you all quickly carried on with the day. The hours were long when it came to Music Shows. The actual recordings were over faster than you could’ve originally guessed, but the time spent waiting for the winners to be revealed tested your patience no matter what mood you were in. So, in order to distract from the mind-numbing boredom and the longing to sleep, you always turned yourself over to the rest of the group. And usually, they had no trouble keeping you entertained.

This day was no exception.

Riki was more than happy when you waltzed over after cooling down and motoring the performance, plopping yourself down onto the couch before cuddling up into his side. He didn’t hesitate to brush your hair out of the way so it wouldn’t be pulled on and blissfully helped you get comfortable on his lap.

“I need your opinion,” you said, suddenly shoving your phone screen in front of his face. He took the device from you, discovering the pretty photos of you in your outfit from the day’s stage. “Which ones should I post?” you asked and he began to swipe through them. Riki’s chin fell onto your shoulder, resting on it as he looked over the pictures. Your scent infiltrated his senses, and he melted a bit at the comforting sensation.

Riki clicked his tongue after a moment, tilting his head so it was resting on the side of yours. “I don’t know if any of them are good.”

Your head snapped to the side, looking behind you at what he was seeing and ultimately pushing his head off yours.

“What’re you…” Oh. On the screen was one of the pictures you’d taken with Sunoo, your cheeks pressed together as he smiled and you were halfway through a laugh. “Ah Riki-san,” you giggled as he resumed going through the pictures, getting to the ones of you and Jake. “Did you want some pictures with me?”

His full lips pushed out into a pout. “No– Wow, with Heeseung-hyung too?” You slapped his chest softly in protest.

“You were getting ready, Ki. I didn’t want to interrupt you,” you explained and his warm brown eyes turned to you, gaze gentle with admiration. “Hmm?” you questioned after a moment of silence. His head ducked down to kiss your cheek.

“Let’s take some now.”

“I thought you didn’t want any?”

He opened the camera app, “Well, I want to be featured in your Instagram post.”

At the words ‘Instagram’ and ‘Post’ Jay, who’d been sitting in a chair near the couch Riki and you were snuggled into, abruptly found interest in what you both were doing. Deciding to disregard how the older was now staring at you both, you made a half heart with your hand and held it up to Riki’s cheek.

“Can I do a heart pose with you?”

Riki rolled his eyes, but the hints of a smile gave him away. “Fine.”

You let out a small ‘Yay’ as the two of you got situated. He angled the camera and took a few pictures with the pose you’d requested before he delicately grabbed your face, maneuvering it closer to his so your cheeks were touching and your lips were almost on his.

“Riki-san–” your voice was muffled as his fingers squished your cheeks together.

“You don’t have to post these, but you should send them to me, princess.” Your heart trembled at the nickname that the younger was so fond of using.

The corners of your lips brushed, but Riki pulled away before you could actually move to kiss him. His expression read expectant, “Of course I’ll send them to you, Ki.”

He gave you a quick peck. “I think Jay-hyung wants a picture now.” It was true, Jay had gotten up from his spot on the chair and was now standing awkwardly by one of the gray plastic tables in the center of the dressing room. You pretended to groan as Riki assisted you in getting off of his lap, thighs brushing yours and making your face feel warm.

“You guys have never shown this much interest in my Instagram before,” you said as you pranced over to your older boyfriend. His hands found your waist instantly, and before you could process what was happening, you were being lifted off the ground and into Jay’s arms.

Riki, like the photography geek he was, had been snapping photos while Jay pulled you up so he was holding you bridal style. “We are, I don’t think you’ve ever noticed before, though.”

“It’s an honor to be on your feed,” Jay added, and you tried to not focus on how he was gripping your legs. No matter how long you’d been dating all of them, they still had the ability to make those butterflies erupt in your stomach and your heart race with love.

You wound your arms around his neck and made eye contact with the phone that was pointed at you and Jay.

“It’s an honor that you guys want to be on my feed.”

Jay’s thumb rubbed against your leg comfortingly, “Of course we want to be included with everything you do. We’re in love with you.”

You cooed faintly at his words, “I love you.”

“I love you too!” Riki called, taking one more picture before getting up himself and bringing your phone over to you. Jay refused to put you back down as you reached for the youngest. So you settled for caressing Riki’s cheek with your hand after taking back your phone.

“Love you, Ki.”

“Yeah. And since you love me so much you should be posting me today.”

The urge to take off your makeup had never been so strong before. You were exhausted, but the day of promotions was finally over and it was time to head back to the dorms. All you longed to do was throw yourself onto the large couch in the main room and cuddle with your boys. Maybe watch an old Disney movie too. Sangmi definitely would appreciate that.

The chatter from the other members as they got ready to leave fell as white noise onto your ears as you got your things around. One of your least favorite things was when you would accidentally leave things behind at music shows, therefore a new habit of yours that quickly formed after your debut was double and triple checking that everything you brought ended up right back in your bag.

Mentally, you ran through your list as you shuffled through the light pink My Mum Made It puffer bag. Phone charger, vitamins, perfume, hair clips–

“What is this I’ve heard about you taking pictures with everyone but me today?”

“Hello to you too, Hoon.” His arms slipped around your middle from behind and he peeked over you as you made sure you had everything.

“Can I have one too, baby?”

You leaned back to leave a kiss on his neck, “Of course. I just need to find my water bottle first. I don’t know where it went.”

“It’s on the vanity over here,” Sunghoon said as he tilted his head towards the left.

“Thanks, Hoon,” you replied as you took his hands to free yourself from his grasp. He didn’t let go of your hand though. Instead, he gripped onto you even tighter, your fingers feeling small as they clutched onto his thumb, and you pulled him along with you to grab the last thing you needed.

Swiftly, you grabbed the metal water bottle and moved to head back to your bag before he stopped you. “Mirror selfie?” Sunghoon offered.

“Ooh, yeah let’s do it.” You checked over your hair and makeup for a moment, deciding that while the style had fallen a bit flat and the makeup had begun to wear off, you still looked presentable. Both you and Sunghoon had changed out of your stage outfits, you wearing the brown skirt you’d shown up in today, with one of Heeseung’s white long-sleeved shirts on your top half. Sunghoon was wearing dark brown, almost black, slacks with a beige sweater that had a button-down white shirt underneath.

You turned to face him, and hugged him tightly, foot popping up behind you as you winked at the camera through the mirror.

Sunghoon chuckled, “Okay, now do a serious one.”

He let his own free arm fall to rest around your hips as you dropped your leg and smiled gently at the phone. After a minute, he decided that was enough and pulled up the pictures for you to check.

“Wah, we look so good!”

Sunghoon grinned at you, “I think it’s impossible for you to look bad.”

All you could do was tuck your head and giggle into his chest. Trying to hide your giddiness was never easy, especially when it was one of the things Sunghoon always searched for.

As soon as you had gotten into the car with Jungwon, Jay, and Sunghoon, you had fallen asleep.

Jungwon’s wide shoulders were just too comfortable to resist, and with the feeling of safety and happiness in your heart, as well as sleep pushing your eyelids closed, you were quick to drift off. You didn’t dream of anything, though, and as soon as the car began to approach the dorms, Jungwon shook you awake gently.

“Hi, dolly,” he said sweetly and you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes. You kept your head on his shoulder as the car slowly wound down the road towards the dorm. The feeling of his hand rested on your own and you blinked heavily, enjoying the feeling of relaxation. Until you saw your phone in your boyfriend’s hand, your Instagram account pulled up on the screen.

“Hey, Yang Jungwon-ssi, what’re you doing with my phone?”

He leaned forward at the same time as you did, refusing you of your device.

“He posted for you,” Jay said from the seats behind you where he sat with Heeseung. “Really cute. ENGENEs are loving it.”

You glanced up at Jungwon, suspicious, “Let me see.”

The three boys laughed.

“Jungwon-oppa what did you post!” you laughed nervously and Jungwon shook his head. With him distracted by your reaction, you tugged his arm closer to you so you could look at it.

The first picture was one of the ones you’d taken by yourself, a cute one of you holding your skirt and laughing. Still not believing that the boys had posted anything skeptical of your relationship, you continued looking through them. There was a picture of you and Sunoo (the one that Riki had pointed out earlier) and the one with Jake where you were leaning onto his chest. The one with Heeseung standing behind you, his chin propped up on your head and one of each of the pictures you’d taken with Riki and Jay. There was your mirror picture with Sunghoon and…

One of you sleeping on Jungwon, your mouth open and a string of drool slipping out of the corner of your mouth.

“YAH YANG JUNGWON!” You finally tore the phone out of his hands, “What is this?” you cried.

The three of you boyfriends only laughed hysterically at your reaction. “Don’t you look so cute?” Jungwon asked.

“Oh my goodness, my idol image.”

“You don’t even look bad, princess, you just look adorable,” Sunghoon said.

You huffed out a breath of air, pouting and leaning even further onto Jungwon. “You guys are going to be the death of me.”

Jungwon pointed at something on the screen, “At least we made the caption cute.”

dollerina ENGENEs aren’t the only ones obsessed with me💕😁

마리셀의 노트 , newjeans release more music puh-lease!😭 I miss you

[buckets-and-trees]

Red, White & True: Manhattan & Brooklyn (1/?)

Characters/Pairings: Steve Rogers (future x curvy Millennial Female!Reader), Pepper Potts, Sam Wilson Word Count: 4k Summary: "There was an idea..." Words at the heart of what brought the Avengers together. Pepper Potts has persuaded Steve Rogers to step up and help again - but this time in a battle to The White House. She invites you to consider a key position.

Content/Warnings: none

Notes: This takes place in a post-Endgame scenario where Steve stays and generally most of TFATWS happened.

Prologue | Series

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

[MAY 15 - Manhattan, New York]

You try not to hold still while you wait in the lobby, but you’re nervous and the longer you sit, the more difficult it is to resist drumming your fingers, tapping your foot, jiggling your right leg as it’s crossed over your left, or even just chewing on your bottom lip.

You’re not anxious at all over meeting with Pepper, but what has you on alert is the possibility that you could theoretically meet Steve Rogers, former Captain America, today.

You take a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. The lobby of Stark Industries is immaculate, all sleek lines and modern design. The large windows let in plenty of natural light, making the space feel open and inviting despite its corporate purpose.

Your mind wanders back to your college days when you’d walked into a different Stark Industries lobby for the first time, a hopeful intern wanting to make a difference at the then-new Stark Foundation office. Pepper had been very involved in building the Foundation at the time, and had become a key mentor and - as the years passed and you left Stark Industries - a dear friend. She had helped fuel some of your late-night study sessions through grad school. Living in a new state, she had shown up and seen you through breakups, family drama, and the stress of putting together your thesis. Even when your paths diverged, you'd managed to stay in touch.

Back then, she’d become like the older sister you never had, seeing you through some of the difficult years figuring out how to be a real adult. Now, here you are, waiting to potentially join a presidential campaign she’s orchestrating for none other than Steve Rogers.

The receptionist's voice startles you out of your reverie. "Ms. Potts will see you now."

You stand, smoothing down your carefully chosen outfit - professional, but not stuffy. As you follow the receptionist down the hallway, your mind races with possibilities. What position could Pepper have in mind for you? Your background in political science and your years working in non-profit management seem like they could be useful, but you can't help feeling a little out of your depth.

As you approach Pepper's office, you take a deep breath to steady yourself. The door opens, and there she is - Pepper Potts, looking as poised and confident as ever in a crisp white blouse and tailored navy suit. Her strawberry blonde hair is pulled back in a neat ponytail, and her smile is warm and welcoming.

"It's so good to see you," she says, embracing you in a quick hug. "Come in, please."

You step into her spacious office, taking in the floor-to-ceiling windows with a breathtaking view of the city skyline. Pepper gestures to a comfortable-looking chair across from her desk, and you sit, trying to keep your nerves in check.

"I appreciate you coming on such short notice," Pepper begins. "I know it's been a few years since we’ve been able to catch up - even before the Blip.”

You were among the half who disappeared - still such a strange concept to grasp though you were supposedly settled back in. “I was happy to come! And of course I don’t mind a trip on the Stark Industries dime,” you say with a grin.

"Can I get you anything? Water? Coffee?"

You shake your head. "I'm fine, thanks."

Pepper settles into her chair, folding her hands on the desk. "So, I know I told you we’re putting together the campaign team for Rogers for America, but I'm sure you're wondering more specifically why I called you here."

You nod, leaning forward in your chair, eager to hear Pepper’s vision.

"We're putting together an incredible team," she begins, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "I've been reaching out to some of the brightest minds in politics, economics, and social justice. We have former White House staffers, grassroots organizers, and even a few unexpected faces from the private sector who are eager to contribute their expertise."

You are instantly intrigued, trying to imagine the caliber of people she's describing. Your mind races with possibilities - perhaps that brilliant campaign manager who orchestrated the upset victory in the last Senate race, or the economist whose revolutionary ideas about sustainable development have been making waves in academic circles.

"We've got strategists who are anticipating every move our opponents might make," Pepper continues, "and communications experts who can craft messages that will resonate with voters across the political spectrum.”

You listen intently, trying to pinpoint where you might fit into this powerhouse group.

"There's Maria Hill," Pepper continues, "who's handling security and intelligence briefings. She's got connections that'll be invaluable. Then there's Peter Parker - you might know him as Spider-Man - he's officially our youth outreach coordinator, but he's also got a brilliant scientific mind that we're tapping into for policy development."

Your eyebrows raise at the mention of Spider-Man.

Pepper leans forward, her eyes locking with yours. "But here's the thing - we're not just assembling a team of political operatives and policy experts. We need people who understand the heart of what we're trying to do, who can see the bigger picture and help keep us grounded in our core values."

Your heart begins to race as you start to realize where this might be going.

"That's where you come in," Pepper says, a warm smile spreading across her face. "I've watched your career over the years, how you've navigated the non-profit world, building coalitions and making real change happen. You have a gift for bringing people together, for seeing connections that others miss. Your experience gives you a unique perspective that we desperately need."

Your heart races as you process her words. You had assumed you might be offered some kind of advisory role, perhaps in fundraising or event planning. Maybe even appearance management or offering occasional input on strategy. But from Pepper's tone, it sounds like she has something more substantial in mind.

"Where do you see me on this team?" you ask, trying to keep your voice steady.

"I've been putting a lot of thought into this," Pepper continues, her voice filled with conviction. “You know we’re doing something unconventional. Did you read the presidential plan?”

You nod. Steve’s bid for President of the United States was still technically not public knowledge. You had signed an NDA - being told only that you were receiving a proposal Pepper wanted your input and consultation on, with potential to join the team if you supported the initiative, and just silence if you didn’t.

“It’s bold, idealistic, aspirational; but it’s also unapologetic, has clear plans of action, and could be transformational in ways we haven’t seen in living memory,” you give your assessment.

“And it’s something you could see yourself being a part of?”

You take a deep breath, but smile genuinely. “I couldn’t sleep the first night after you sent it over. I couldn’t stop reading, hoping, re-reading, imagining possibilities!”

“Good,” Pepper responds. “Perfect.”

“Put me to work wherever you need me!”

“I was hoping you would say that because I have a very specific position I need to get filled, and you’re my first - and only - pick for the job.”

“Pepper, stop holding out!” A nervous and eager laugh escapes you. “Tell me!”

Her response slams into you like a freight train, knocking the air from your lungs.

“Future First Lady.”

You feel your jaw drop in shock, almost hitting the ground as your mind races with disbelief and anger. The room feels like it's spinning as you struggle to process the weight of her words.

"What?" you gasp, your voice barely above a whisper. "Pepper, I... I don't understand. First Lady? But that would mean..."

Pepper holds up a hand, her expression serious. "We're not just running a campaign here. We're trying to redefine what leadership looks like in this country. Steve is an incredible man, and he needs a partner who understands the complexities of modern America, not just a trophy wife, someone who can connect with people from all walks of life."

You shake your head, still reeling. "But I'm not - I mean, Steve and I aren't even - we've never even met!"

"I know," Pepper says softly. "That's part of the plan. We want to show that leadership isn't about who you're married to or what your last name is. It's about vision, compassion, and the ability to bring people together."

Pepper leans back in her chair, her expression at least revealing some concern over your reaction. "I know it's a lot to take in."

"A lot to take in?" you interrupt, your voice rising. "Pepper, it's insane! It’s May, and the election is in November. How could I possibly be the First Lady?"

Pepper holds up a hand, trying to calm you. "I know, I know. Let me explain."

But you're on a roll now, your initial shock giving way to indignation. "Explain what? How you thought it was okay to offer me a position that requires me to be married to a stranger? Use me to score points?”

"I understand your reaction," Pepper says calmly, "but please, hear me out. This isn't about scoring political points or creating some sham marriage. We're trying to redefine what leadership looks like in this country."

You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. "Go on," you say, your voice tight, “because you’re still trotting out marriage.”

"We can’t outright ignore traditional expectations and polling numbers. If Steve were running as the nominee for either of the major parties, we could probably win without him being married, but since he’s running as an independent, he needs a wife. That being said, we want to move away from the traditional concept of the First Lady as just the President's wife," Pepper explains. "The vision is a First Partnership. Two people who work together. There’ve been a few First Ladies who have done more with their platform and position, and that’s what we would want for you, too.”

You chew on your lip, not persuaded yet, but a little less angry.

“We have an opportunity to show what a healthy partnership in marriage could look like to new generations. You’re my first and only choice because of your skills, experience, and the vision I know you would bring to the table. But you’re also my first and only choice because I think you two are well-suited for each other.”

You open your mouth to protest, but Pepper raises her hand to stop you.

“You and Steve don’t have to put on a show and be madly in love - that’s not what I want, that’s not what he wants or expects either.”

You frown. “What does he expect?” you ask. And then you perk up even more. “Has he agreed to this? Shouldn’t he at least be here to make the offer himself?”

Pepper sighs. “It was easier for me to convince him to run in the first place than to agree that he needed a wife.”

“But you’re telling me he did agree?”

Pepper nods. “He did.”

You unconsciously rub the empty space on your left ring finger. “Couldn’t we just get engaged and leave the question of a marriage for whether or not he wins?”

A soft laugh falls from Pepper’s mouth. “He actually asked the same thing.”

“And…?” You raise your eyes expectantly.

“The public would rake us over the coals and accuse us of only doing it as a publicity stunt. The campaign would become a gossip column on your relationship status and nothing more.”

“But isn’t it a publicity stunt?”

“We can spin a marriage that seems to appear out of nowhere. Steve’s always been a private person when it comes to his personal life. We will tell people you met through me - which is true. I thought you were well-suited for each other - which I do. When people asked why the wedding just before announcing his bid for the presidency, we tell them you two didn’t want your relationship status to become the big question on everyone’s minds so they can focus on the platforms and policies instead and that every marriage takes work regardless of the length of the courtship.”

You sit in stunned silence for a moment, trying to process everything Pepper has said. The idea of marrying someone you've never met, let alone becoming the First Lady of the United States, seems utterly surreal. And yet, there's a part of you that's intrigued by the challenge, by the opportunity to make a real difference on such a grand scale.

"I need some time to think about this," you finally say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Pepper nods understandingly. "Of course. It's a lot to take in. But I want you to know that I wouldn't have asked you if I didn't think you were perfect for this role. Not just as a political partner, but as someone who could genuinely connect with Steve."

You raise an eyebrow. "You really think we'd be well-suited?"

"I do," Pepper says with confidence and warmth.

You rub your ring finger again, but this time you see Pepper’s eyes drop to watch your unconscious action, and you quickly stop. Her eyes, when you meet them again, are full of sympathy. You both lost husbands, but you don’t want to talk about it, yet again, and you don’t want to bring up a painful subject for her either.

She can read that in your tight-lipped smile.

So instead she says, “I can give you three days to think it over.”

You sigh and rise from your seat to go. “I don’t know if that’s long enough, but if you give me three days or three weeks, I don’t think it will change my decision I’ll land on. Give me the night to sleep on it. I think I’ll know by tomorrow morning.”

[JUNE 4 - Brooklyn, New York]

Three weeks later, your life has been packed up and put in a truck on its way to the new brownstone in Brooklyn that’s been acquired for you and Steve to move into, and you’re sitting at a table in a café a few blocks away, waiting to meet your future husband for the first time over breakfast. Every time the bell rings over the door, you dart your head to see if it’s him, but he’s evidently running late.

As you wait, checking to see if you have any messages on your phone, the bell over the door chimes once more. This time, when you look up, your breath catches in your throat. A tall, athletic man with dark skin and an easy smile has entered the café. You recognize him immediately as Sam Wilson, the new Captain America. Your heart sinks a little as you realize Steve isn't with him.

Sam spots you and makes his way over, his stride confident but casual. As he approaches, you notice the way his eyes scan the room, a habit born from years of military training and superhero work. He's dressed in civilian clothes - a leather jacket over a simple t-shirt and jeans - but there's no mistaking the aura of strength and capability that surrounds him.

"You must be the future Mrs. Rogers," Sam says with a warm smile, extending his hand. "I'm Sam Wilson. Steve asked me to come apologize and explain - and to have breakfast with you, if you’ll have me.”

You nod, forcing a smile, and shake his hand. "Of course. I understand.” You motion toward the chair across the table from you, inviting him to sit. “I know campaign prep must keep him incredibly busy."

Ever since you’d accepted the proposition to marry Steve Rogers and join him on the campaign trail to the White House, your own life had turned upside down, giving you hardly any time to breathe, and you’d been told this was only a mild version of what your own schedule was going to look like once Steve formally announced.

“Former President Bartlet agreed to meet with him, and the schedules ended up aligning this morning for Steve to go up to New Hampshire for a sit down,” Sam explains.

“President Bartlet?” you can’t help the awe in your voice. “I’d skip out on breakfast with me, too.”

“I hope I’m not a disappointment of a substitute,” Sam teases. “Since we’ll be working together as part of the senior staff, I volunteered because I was eager to finally meet you.”

His smile is genuine, and you feel the absolute truth of his sentiment. It melts away some of your disappointment and worry.

In return, your smile becomes a little warmer and easier. “I can’t help being a little disappointed - since I was hoping to finally meet my future husband - but he’s unemployed and you’re technically Captain America, so I guess it’s really an upgrade.”

Sam laughs. “Oh, I’m going to love you, I can tell.”

“Just promise me he’ll actually be at the ceremony tomorrow?” you ask. Your tone is light, but Sam calls your bluff.

His laughter fades, replaced by a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, he'll be there. Wild horses couldn't keep him away. Or androids. Or aliens. Or wizards. Or..." He trails off, realizing he might be overdoing it. "You get the idea."

You nod, appreciating Sam's attempt at humor. "I hope so. It would be pretty awkward to explain to the press why the groom was a no-show at his own wedding."

"Trust me, Steve takes this very seriously," Sam says, his tone becoming more earnest. "He may not know you yet, but he respects you and the commitment you're making. He's not the type to back out or let you down."

You nod, feeling a mix of relief and nervousness. "I suppose I should get used to schedule changes and last-minute adjustments," you say, trying to keep your tone light.

"It's part of the package," Sam agrees. "But so is having a team of people who have your back, no matter what." He leans forward, his eyes meeting yours intently. "I want you to know that includes me. We're not just colleagues in this; we're family."

His words touch you deeply, and you feel a bloom of warmth in your chest, the firs time you’ve felt grounded since you agreed to do this. "Thank you, Sam," you manage to say. "That means a lot."

The waitress approaches, he orders coffee, and you both order breakfast.

As she walks away, you take a sip of the drink you’d ordered while you were waiting before, mulling over Sam's words. "Can I ask you something, Sam? You know Steve better than almost anyone. Do you think...?”

You hesitate, uncertain if you should voice your doubts to Sam. But his open, friendly demeanor encourages you to continue, and you’re going to need to learn to trust this new circle of people you’ll be surrounded with.

"Do you think this is crazy?" you finally ask, your voice barely above a whisper. "Marrying someone I've never even met, maybe becoming First Lady... it all feels so surreal."

Sam leans back in his chair, considering your question carefully. "Crazy? Maybe," he admits with a small smile. "But then again, I've seen a lot of crazy things in my time with the Avengers. This? This actually feels like one of the more normal things I've been part of."

You can't help but chuckle at that, some of the tension easing from your shoulders.

"Look," Sam continues, his tone becoming more serious. "I won't lie to you. It's not going to be easy. The scrutiny, the pressure, the constant demands on your time and energy - it's going to be a lot. But if anyone can handle it, it's Steve. And from what I've heard about you, I think you're up for the challenge, too."

Sam pauses as the waitress returns with your breakfasts and his coffee. Once she's gone, he continues, "Steve doesn't do anything halfway. When he commits to something, he's all in. And he's committed to this - to you, to this campaign, to trying to make a real difference."

You nod, appreciating his honesty. "And what about... us? Steve and me, I mean. Do you think we can make this work? Not just for the campaign, but as a real partnership?"

Sam's eyes soften. "Steve's one of the best men I know. He's loyal, compassionate, and has a moral compass that doesn't quit. But he's also been through a lot, and he can be... guarded. It might take some time for him to open up fully."

You absorb this information, feeling a mix of apprehension and curiosity about your future husband. "I appreciate your honesty, Sam," you say softly. "I guess we'll both be navigating uncharted waters."

Sam nods, taking a sip of his coffee before responding. "True, but you won't be doing it alone. Not only do you have the support of the team, but I think you and Steve might surprise yourselves. You both have a strong sense of purpose, a desire to help others. That's a solid foundation to build on."

You pick at your breakfast, mulling over Sam's words. "I just hope we can find some common ground beyond the campaign," you admit.

Sam leans in, his expression earnest. "Like I said, when Steve commits to something, he gives it his all. That includes relationships. He may be reserved at first, but once he lets you in, you'll have his unwavering loyalty and support."

You nod, feeling a bit more reassured. "I appreciate that. I’m not some hopeless romantic, I’m not looking to be swept off my feet, but I just hope we can find some chemistry, some spark beyond just being political partners."

Sam chuckles. "Oh, I wouldn't worry too much about that. Steve might be from the 1940s, but he's still a red-blooded man. And you," he gestures at you with his fork, "are definitely his type."

You feel your cheeks flush slightly. "His type?"

"Smart, independent, passionate about making a difference," Sam lists off. “

Your work in non-profits, your passion for social justice - that's right up Steve's alley. Plus, you've got that whole 'take no crap' vibe that he needs. I have a sense about these things, and you have it.”

You laugh, feeling some of the tension dissipate. "Well, I'll take your word for it. Though I have to admit, the idea of being Steve Rogers' 'type' is a bit surreal."

Sam grins. "Trust me, once you two actually meet, you'll see what I mean. Just don't let that 'aw shucks' routine fool you. He might look like an all-American boy scout, but there's a lot more going on under the surface."

You raise an eyebrow. "Oh? Do tell."

Sam shakes his head, still smiling. "Nah, I'll let you discover that for yourself. Where's the fun if I spoil all the surprises?"

You roll your eyes good-naturedly. "Fine, keep your secrets. But seriously, Sam, thank you. For breakfast, for the pep talk, for everything. I'm really glad I got to meet you before tomorrow."

"Me too," Sam says, raising his coffee mug in a mock toast. "To new beginnings and unexpected partnerships."

You clink your own mug against his, feeling a surge of warmth and camaraderie. As you finish your breakfast, the conversation flows easily between you and Sam. He regales you with stories of his adventures with Steve, carefully omitting any classified details but painting a vivid picture of the man you're about to marry.

You learn about Steve's dry sense of humor, his unwavering loyalty to his friends, and his surprising skill at sketching. Sam describes missions where Steve's quick thinking saved the day, but also quieter moments - movie nights with the team, intense debates over board games, and Steve's ongoing struggle to catch up on pop culture.

As Sam talks, you find yourself leaning in, captivated by these glimpses of reality, getting to know more about the man behind the myth. And even if the next twenty-four hours will be a whirlwind of you choosing and getting fitted for your wedding dress; interviewing candidates that have been vetted for your personal staff - assistant, pr strategist, stylist, initiative director; and a bachelorette party; you feel like you’ll be able to face it all with the bit of reassurance you’ve gained by spending this time with Sam.

next part: LAS VEGAS & CLEVELAND

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

This story will have 3-4 chapters, depending on where I split up the narrative. I anticipate about a chapter a week, usually posted on Fridays.

[archangeldyke-all]

what about sev and reader meeting little fucker'd girlfriend's parents?

sevika it's like "im killing your daughter if she hurts my baby" and then one of the parents it's like "no, im killing your daughter if she hurts my daughter" and then sevika just shrugs like "yeah that's fair"

this is just so funny i'm such a sucker for family fics heheh

men and minors dni

your daughter's been dating her girlfriend for two years now, and in the fall they'll be going off to college together, so you and sevika figured it was time to bite the bullet and meet her parents.

it's not that you don't want to. it's just that... your family is definitely a lot for those not as used to it as smooches is (smooches is the nickname the twins came up with for little fucker's girlfriend-- because of all the kisses the two are always sharing) and smooches comes from a quiet family.

she's an only child, both of her parents are super smart lawyer types-- and you and sevika both worry that they'll take one look at your home (currently in disrepair because the twins are going through a 'science experiment' phase) and your family (whose love language is teasing and squabbling) and they'll decide that their daughter actually shouldn't be spending so much time with her girlfriend and family. which would break both of your hearts, because as much as you tease little fucker and smooches--your daughter's girlfriend is basically your family now.

she's over for dinner more nights than not, she spends the night on weekends, and the twins adore her.

so, you're all trying to be on your best behavior at dinner tonight. (trying being the key word, because there are just some familial duties that even the best behavior cannot stop.)

stinkerbutt goes around the table at the restaurant and pulls out each chair for the adults, helping push in smooches' dads in with some help from her twin, kissing you and sevika's cheeks sweetly when she pushes you two up to the table.

shithead very politely stacks all your dishes and glasses together between bread, appetizers, and after dinner-- ensuring the table is easy to clear for the waitresses and there's more room for everyone to spread out.

you and sevika exchange pleasentries with mr. and mr. smooches, asking them about work and drama on the pta at the girls' high school-- and you even get some friendly banter going when it's revealed that sevika and one of smooches' dads' share favorite television shows. they spend about fifteen minutes gushing to each other about the writing while you and smooches' remaining dad roll your eyes fondly-- both happy they're not talking to you about the nerdy shit for a change.

there's not one stain on any of your sort-of matching outfits-- little fucker wanted to look like a unit so she insisted you all wear blue-- and you're under the impression that you've made it through the night with out incident.

you're wrong.

but, surprisingly, it isn't your family that starts it tonight.

"i have to say something." mr. smooches mumbles at the end of the night as you're waiting for dessert to be brought to the table.

"babe--" his husband responds, in that same placating tone you recognize from how often you use it on sevika. "it's been such a nice night."

"pops please don't." smooches groans from her seat beside him.

still, mr. smooches clears his throat and takes a sip of his wine before speaking.

"you all are a lovely family," he begins while his daughter groans and hides her face behind her hands, "and i am so grateful my daughter's found someone who loves her so much-- and someone whose family loves her too..." you all wait in tense silence for him to continue.

"but?" little fucker asks.

"but it is my duty as a father to tell all of you that if my daughter is ever hurt-- physically or emotionally-- i do know lawyers who can make murder charges disappear." he says with a shrug.

you raise an eyebrow at his husband, impressed, and he groans and buries his own face in his hands-- just like his daughter.

beside you, sevika bursts into laughter and smacks his back. "i didn't think you had it in you!" she cackles.

"what do you mean?" smooches asks from between her dads, her mortification lessening at sevika's reaction.

"i've been watchin' your old man try to work up the courage to threaten us all night."

"it wasn't a threat! it was just a fun fact about myself i wanted to share." smooches dad says with a growing smile. sevika cackles.

"well, here's a fun fact about our family-- together i think we've got, what was it babe? twenty three?"

"twenty four." you fill in for sevika. sevika grins and kisses your cheek.

"twenty four cousins in prison, so, y'know. we probably wouldn't be able to get rid of the charges, but we'd definitely know how to handle the bodies." she says with a shrug.

the table bursts into laughter, and mr. smooches reaches across the table to give sevika a solid handshake.

you and his husband sit back and watch with fond amusement as your daughters attempt to sneak away from the table without anybody noticing.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom

[aakaneeee]

Round 7 was.. definetly intense and I have many thoughts about it, so I did a whole analysis.. yes it's finally here!

Time to start :3 (I will mostly try to make this coherent and chronologically correct, I might fail though! because we know how freaky i can get when it comes to Luka)

without further ado, let's get into it!

tws: drug use, violence, blood, overall quite gore-ish;

I. ROUND 7

Round 7 starts with a low intro, sung first by Till, Luka following. Till has his energy back, or atleast part of it. Luka, as always, has his perfect voice, but he seems to be a little more expressive this time, as if he's enjoying the performance, just like the lyrics suggest. Everything goes seemingly smooth, and they receive holographic instruments that almost seem to parallel eachother: Till, an electric guitar, and Luka, a violin. And yet, as the second pre-chorus emerges, Luka approaches Till, putting his hands around his neck, a cruel reminder of Ivan. He is... dizzy, to say the least, even getting a nosebleed, but he doesn't stop singing until the very end, even though images of the one he's been taunted with appear on the screen behind them. His eyes seem to light up when he sees a familiar figure in the crowd, Mizi, somehow remembering her even with her hair completely different, veiled, and between millions of aliens. He reaches out, and Luka is obviously at least annoyed at this, either mad that his trick didn't work, or that Till destroyed a perfect performance. Even so, it's too late for Till: Right before getting a hold of Mizi's hand, he is shot in the neck, falling down. Mizi is.. devastated. A flashback of them as kids plays, with a xylophone instrumental. Then, the camera cuts back, from a happy, smiling Mizi, to one crying over Till's soon-to-be corpse. In his last moments, she takes his hair out of his face and cups it. He tries to caress her hand, and then his arm falls next to him as the light fades from his eyes, destined to look into the distance forever. The text "LUKA WIN" flashes on the screen, but even the double-winner is too distracted to care, as in a safe distance, yet right in front of him, is an injured Hyuna, crouched forward, without her usual, characteristic confidence. They stare blankly at eachother as the screen shows new text: SPECIAL GUESTS, paired with photos of a grieving Mizi and a shocked, in pain Hyuna. We are shown Luka advancing as the winner, the last one left, supposedly, and everything goes black.

II. LUKA

(I will have a lot to say for the both of them, unsurprisingly, but I feel like Luka is still a little bit in the lead... again. who is surprised)

From the first frames we see him in, his clothes are obviously more revealing that in previous rounds (using plural since we have seen part of his Round 4 outfit in the intro of ROMH), using not only the usual open back, but also a huge v-cut showing his chest, and his hip open, specifically where his branding is. I imagine Heperu would've chosen this to show off that it's his pet. Not only that, but his surgery scars are also shown off. I suppose it might be something to brag about here? Maintaining a pet human is probably already really expensive, so it's a differentiation of class if they also afford to have surgeries? I see it as probable. When he begins singing, we see something new. He's a lot more expressive, and it carries through the whole round. Not only that, but when his first high note reaches, he almost crouches down forward, as if he was struggling with it (even though he had more difficult notes in round 5.) Personally, for me, I don't think he was going to use his 'technique' from the start. Some may argue that it's his usual, but he got the biggest score in Alien Stage history in round 4 (I may be mistaken) against Durian, and Durian had no dead loved one that Luka could've used against... him? (I'm still confused about Durian, Acorn and.. Tortilla.😭) So he's obviously insanely talented and only uses it when he feels a threat. Most of Luka's actions in Round 7 felt risky, unplanned, and decided on the moment, which really is unlike him. This feels, like one of my previous posts say, like he was drugged, just like Till. In his daze, maybe he considered that Till would stop singing, or maybe, not even sing at all, and that he'll have an easy opponent. But no, Till proved strong, and then, it came to the next possible way he could 100% win: disorienting him. A thing others have pointed out.. Luka's fingers are probably very cold, and it mightve reminded Till that Ivan is a corpse now. One of the most cruel frames of an already very cruel series was, atleast for me, shown in this video: Luka holding in his laugh after his 'plan' (since, as i already said, i dont think it was actually planned) works. For me, it's another piece of proof that he wasn't in his right mind, the carefully built facade of his wouldn't have just broken by his own will. But, even though he could swear it worked, Till doesn't stop singing. Sure, he's dizzy, dazed, but he still is singing. Shock only comes again when Till sees Mizi in the crowd, and anger, or atleast annoyance, is easily readable on Luka's face. He even pauses singing, looking at Till reaching out for his God, always unattainable, now in the reach of his fingers, in a position I could describe as hesitant, confused. Even so, he gets a win as Till gets shot in the neck. Unfortunately, he doesn't have time to revel in the victory, as he watches in shock, as 'the love of his life' appears in front of him, yet at a safe distance, injured. They stare at eachother, but it's different, it wasn't a blank gaze like in Round 5, it feels a lot more vulnerable.

I love how we've been shown past Luka's empty shell this round. Seeing him actually expressing himself, seemingly taking immense pleasure, almost in an euphoric, naive way, in the round around him. There is no way he genuinely enjoys it, or would've enjoyed it without.. exterior measures. We've seen him reacting to cameras around him in Sweet Dream. We can only imagine that was his truly 'sober' state. As I said, it's really amazing how we can see a more candid version of him.

III. TILL

From the start, it seems like Till has regained his spirit back. He's definetly more energetic than in Round 6, his hair is slightly messy again. His outfit, just like Luka's, is more revealing, but his branding has always been visible, unlike his opponent's. He is doing surprisingly well, not going down without a fight, maybe not going down at all! (I love being cruel) He's singing his heart out, every lyric he says showing desperation. And even though he was going so well, everything has an end. Because his declining mental state goes even more downhill as Luka acts like the freshly deceased Ivan, who left him with so many questions and dillemas. It feels like everything is crowding up on him, the huge stage feeling like a small box. His nose starts bleeding, and just as he was about to faint... He sees the love of his life, Mizi, in the crowd. She's reaching out to him. She's there to save him. He reaches towards her in happiness... Except he gets shot right before it. Mizi is finally reaching to him, right how he imagined when he felt like dying, after singing in that damned club. But just as you can't touch your own imagination, you can't touch a God.

Mizi is, and always will be unattainable. The moment he tried to touch her, the Universe is against him, once again. When he wanted to approach her, a powerful light engulfed him. When he died, it was back to pitch dark. In the flashback, it's implied that Till tried to escape, or atleast went against the rules, togheter with Mizi. They seem to be very close, as Mizi trusts him enough to hide, and bury her head into him. It feels affectionate, familiar, something Till holds onto, because he probably considers it one of his best memories. But nothing lasts. From a smiling, happy Mizi, it pans to the new her, now crying over Till, who was taking his last breaths. She gently brushes his hair out of his face, her hand holding it. In his last moments, atleast, he got what he wanted: Mizi's gaze on him, only on him, and just as always, he can't say anything to her. He just lightly chuckles, as his eyes lose light, and his arm falls next to him.

IV. IVAN

His intention was to make Till hate him. That's why he kissed him. He wanted to be forgotten. He already thought Till didn't care that much about him, so surely his actions would make him hate him? Wrong. Ivan was never Till's ray of hope. He was aware of it: Till only had eyes for Mizi. And yet, his death wasn't forgettable, like he thought. He used to mock Sua for her plan, saying that she'll only become trauma, and ironically, he did the exact same thing. Till sees Mizi as pure light, a goddess. Yet, he remembers Ivan in a shaky manner, a dark red veil over the flashback of the kiss. Mizi was his hope, and Ivan was his misery. Unfortunately, Ivan didn't realize this, considering himself to not be grief, but rather, nothing for Till. Oh, how wrong he was.

V. HYUNA

I really like the idea that the Patreon gave us. Its good to be confirmed that Hyuna, just like the others, is truly human, and by that I mean, flawed. Maybe I am interpreting it wrong, but from what my brain cooked up, she was.. somewhat willing to sacrifice a life (either Till or Luka) for the sake of humanity. (again, I might be wrong) We see another side to her in Round 7. She grabs Mizi and looks at her in a pleading way. She knows she's asking of her to see another of her friends die. Even so, she thinks it's better. I'm really curious about what she was doing on stage. Did she go after Mizi, because she saw she might've gotten caught again? Maybe.. she thought that Mizi was actually going to get Till, and she wanted to save Luka, too? You can never know.

VI. MIZI

First of all, she is still naive, which is so on brand for her. She went into a rescue mission, alone, with no weapons except for a smoke grenade. She still doesn't know what she has to do, and it's obvious. It seems like she took another route from Hyuna, who came up on the stage, while Mizi mixed with the crowd. Even so, I'm grateful that in his last moments, Mizi let Till rest. It was such an honest scene and I adored it. What I didn't adore was the parallels between her leaning over Tills body in Round 7, and her leaning over Sua's body in Round 1.

VII. PARALLELS

1. Till reaching towards Mizi, both in his hallucinations, and right before his death, where she still remains untouchable.

2. "The dark crimson air embraces us" -> "In your place, there's only blood and cold air left" (Black Sorrow) + "Lost in forever's embrace" (CURE)

3. Mizi leaning over Sua's body (Round 1) and Mizi leaning over Till's body (Round 7)

4. "In a blink gone!", sang by Till, in this, the visuals parallel his Birthday reveal art.

5. Luka raising his hands to his face, parallels Ivan tracing his hands up his microphone (they even have the same timing from what I've seen).

6. Mizi looking at Till from her capsule in Round 2, with Mizi looking at Till through the screen during Round 7.

7. Mizi throwing the grenade and Till breaking Freddie in Round 2.

8. Luka's hands on Till's neck are a 'gentler' version of Ivan choking Till, so aliens wouldn't consider it as violence.

9. Luka and Hyuna looking at eachother in Round 5 and Luka and Hyuna looking at eachother at the end of Round 7.

10. The way Luka pulls Till's lip down reminds me of that one freaky Luka image..

VIII. LYRIC ANALYSIS

Blink Gone works for all characters, in my opinion. Every one of them lost something, in just a blink.

"The clock goes tick-tock, tick-tock" I can only imagine this referring to the fact that Till's life is soon to coming to an end.

Till sings the more pessimistic lyrics, while Luka sings the ones about forgetting what's in the past and enjoying the moment. As much as he could be taunting Till, he is, in a way, also reassuring himself. To forget everything: perhaps Hyuna. Hyunwoo's death. And not only these, but the experiments, surgeries, punishments he's been through. On this specific stage, he feels like he's truly alive.

As I've mentioned before: "The dark crimson air embraces us" -> "In your place, there's only blood and cold air left" (Black Sorrow) + "Lost in forever's embrace" (CURE).

IX. DISPELLING SOME THEORIES.

1. Till's microphone was closed.

Personally, when I first saw this... I was a bit.. yeah... I know this sounds rude, but I was a little bit startled when I saw how many people agreed😭 The light on Till's microphone is a heartbeat tracker, proven to be right by the fact it turned green when he saw Mizi. Even if it was closed, a microphone doesn't make you sound better. He wouldn't have been heard, which he was, so obviously, it wasn't closed.

2. The competition was rigged in Luka's favor.

I dont personally agree with this, especially considering the aliens' nature. They don't care about humans. I don't imagine them wanting the same winner twice. Personally, I find it more like them to rig it in Till's favor. Imagine: he won his first two round by external factors, a rookie, yet a musical genius, defeating a past winner. Doesn't that sound more like something they could market? This is my opinion, but I can't think about them rigging it in Luka's favor. (yes I made a whole rubric just for 2 theories that kind of..somewhat. annoy me)

X. MY THEORIES (This is MOSTLY incoherent)

First of all, I am sure that something BIG will happen next. They said Round 6 is only the half of ALIEN STAGE, so, without counting Sweet Dream, there should be 6 more videos. Minus round 7, five. Hyuna vs Mizi and then whoever wins versus Luka are only two, so there's no way that's everything thats going to happen. I find it really interesting that were going to have 5 videos with only 3 (SUPPOSEDLY) alive characters. I'm not sure about the theory of "they are still alive", since Vivimeng aren't really.. known for that. I'm quite 50/50 on it. I can't believe we went from "only Sua will die" to "Everyone will die"😭 Thats what I call development. Anyways, I'm just as excited as ever for what's next!

XI. CONCLUSION + MY OPINION

Honestly, I ADORED Round 7. It was so beautiful and gorgeous and deep and I simply love it. Im going to sound like a gatekeeper, or rude, but I'm quite dissapointed in the people that genuinely are starting to harass Luka fans, to say they hated Round 7, to hate on Vivimeng for the decision they made, saying that they destroyed it and that there's no satisfactory ending to it now.. MAYBE I'm just lucky and my favourite character is Luka, so I haven't felt the grief of losing my favourite yet, but even if I did, I wouldn't start blaming the AMAZING creators that work so hard. If you're curious, yes, as a Luka fan, I've been told off, I've been told I'm a horrible person, and it's only been 2 days, which is insane to me. There is just so much more about him than "ooh he's a manipulator!" again, I'm gonna sound extremely rude... I love that there are a lot of fans that came during Round 6, but I feel like the people 'leaving' the fandom right now are those same fans. maybe that's just me and I'm just angry at what's happening right now😭

I don't want to offend anyone, these are just my opinions, please take everything I said with a grain of salt!

( @cherry-blossom-sword80 here it is!! tagging some other people I'd like to see this :3 @verdantlights @sotogalmo @rockwgooglyeyes )

[livesworthlivingau]

Lives Worth Living Chapter 2

Spoilers for ISAT, Two Hats specifically

"So that's why you ran off so suddenly." (Odile acknowledges, the only one of your family who seems more suspicious than excited to see Loop once more.)

"You had me worried there Sif, but I guess it makes sense you'd be in such a rush. Glad to see you again Loop!" (Isa remarks, just happy to see you were fine.)

"Yes! We never got to tell you thanks for helping us out yesterday!" (Mira cheers, eager to get to know this new friend.)

"... So why do you look like that?"

"BONNIE!" (Everyone shouts in unison, you and Loop can't help but laugh at their blunt remark.)

"No no, it's quite alright, it's a fair question. It's because I'm part star my dear little culinary one~."

"Woah... Part star?! Really?!" (They stare up at Loop in bewilderment.)

"I'd say that must be impossible, but I have trouble believing that about anything after our most recent adventure." (Odile sighs through the hand in front of her face, pinching her temple as just pondering all of this seemed to give her a headache.)

"Well whatever you are, it's great to have you around! Did you wanna join us for our travels? It sounded like you and Sif went through a lot together, so we'd love to get to know you as well!" (Oh Isa, always so kind and generous... You find yourself staring and quickly try to snap back to reality, you're not there just yet, you have to build back up to that...)

"O-Oh no, I couldn't possibly impos-"

"Nonsense! Any friend of Sif's is a friend of ours!"

"Yes, it's the least we could do to repay you for helping us out so much!"

"Yeah! And you can try out my cooking! What's your favorite food?!"

"Oh yeah, you HAVE to try Bonnie's food, Sif said it almost made the time loops tolerable all on it's own!" (Isa laughed. You forgot you made that joke, but it was at least a little bit true.)

(Loop just turned to look at you, their eyes filled with a reluctant worry, still unsure of this plan, still so unsure of allowing themself a second chance... You just smile back at them and nod, trying to reassure them and gesturing them towards the rest of the group.)

"... Well then splendid~! If you're all so eager to have me along, how could I refuse~?" (There it is, the mask back up within moments... you forgot how easy it was back then... you wonder how long until you might be right back there with them, before shaking those thoughts away. That's the old you, and you never want to go back, you're better now.)

----------------------------------------------------

(Loop finds themself settling into the group with ease, becoming a cheerleader for Mirabelle, a research assistant for Odile, just the worst of influences for Bonnie, and joining you as another model/assistant for Isa's clothing craft. They were much more eager and flashy when it came to showing off the outfits, the part of the job you were always worse at.)

(The 3 of you were tucked away in your room at the Inn you all were currently staying at, while the rest went on a little excursion to the library. Isa was working hard on a new outfit for Loop. Apparently walking around as a star person was noticeable enough, and adding on the whole 'nudity' factor only made it worse. As usual you find yourself just staring at Isa with a dumb little smile on your face, always loving to watch him work, the way he scrunches his face and sticks his tongue out as he does. Your eye following along as he took measurements across Loop's body, before your vision drifts to Loop's face... recognizing the same stare you were giving for Isa... Oh... OH!... Oooooooooooooh.....)

(Loop feels you staring, turning to see your shocked, blushing face. Their expression falls, looking away as the realization takes hold in both of you... You both have a lot to figure out now.)

------------------------------------------------------

"Do you get it now Stardust?! Do you see why this was a bad idea?!" (Loop is upset, but you can tell they're almost satisfied. You're reminded of a very grim scene you've tried to block out for a very long time. Flashes of it in your mind still pop up now and again, and this time it's followed up by Loop shouting "I TOLD YOU SO!".)

"I mean, it's... complicated, there's just a lot to consi-"

"What is there to consider?! What are you going to just back off and throw your Fighter into my arms so he can swoon over me instead?!"

"..."

"... Are... You're not being serious right now."

"I mean... I had 30 years wit-"

"STARDUST! WE ARE NOT HAVING THIS CONVERSATION!"

[brooooswriting]

Please I need a part two for oh I know!!!! 🙏🏻🙏🏻🩷

Oh I know pt. 2

Part 1

It had been some weeks since your discussion with Leighton and she kept being supportive and encouraging about every decision you made. It got to the point where you felt bad about not being out, especially since you’d love to show her off. You felt the worst when it was her birthday coming up.

“So, my parents and my brother are coming down for my birthday and we are going out to eat. Do you want to join?” She questioned as she typed on her phone. You were chilling in the spare apartment your parents had near campus, and you often went there when your roommates were too much.

“Are the others also going to be there?” You didn’t wanna make it too obvious but you already knew that the blonde figured out why you asked.

“No, but that doesn’t have to mean anything” she tried to convince you.

“Cause you’re someone who brings here friends to her family?” She sighed, knowing that you were right and she dropped the topic after inviting you to go to the theta party after she’s done with her parents. You said you’d try to come and dropped the topic too.

At least you tried, but the whole night, you could only think about how sad she looked even though she tried to hide it. She's been the best girlfriend one could be, and the fact that you couldn't celebrate her birthday with her because you were scared actually made you mad at yourself.

Coming out to your parents/family still scares the living shit out of you but if Leighton's family accepted her, they'd surely accept you too. Plus, coming out to your friends and her family didn't mean that you had to come out to yours too. After a lot of contemplating you finally made up your plan.

“So, where are you guys going for your birthday tomorrow?” you asked as the blonde laid in your arms, a movie playing on the small TV you had in your apartment.

“Oh, the fancy place down the street. It's my dad's favorite lunch place and I'm fine with whatever” Her hesitation was obvious but you decided to ignore it as you were too scared to reveal anything of your plan.

“That's nice. What are you going to wear?” a happy squeal left her mouth and she picked up her phone to show you pictures of her outfit, explaining each detail while your hand rubbed over her waist.

Later that night you walked Leighton home. “Good night baby” You checked your surroundings before you pressed a couple of soft kisses to her lips, trying not to let her notice your nerves building up. “Good night” she pressed a last kiss to your check before disappearing.

At midnight, you texted her happy birthday, how much she meant to you, how much you appreciated her, and that you couldn't wait to see her. She obviously didn't answer until the following day. You shot her a quick answer before getting ready, needing much more time as your nerves went wild. You wore a nice suit with nothing really underneath, styling your hair neatly and doing some natural make-up. Leighton's present was wrapped up and sat on the kitchen counter, your keys and everything else you needed next to it. Nervously shaking you sat on the counter before the clock stroke 2:45 meaning that you had to leave now.

You parked your car at the edge of the campus and walked to the blonde's dorm. Leighton was known for being quite punctual so you didn't knock, instead just standing in front of the door, her present and some roses in hand. You didn't have to wait long as the door opened and revealed your beautiful girlfriend in the doorway, her back turned to you as she still talked to her roommates. “Alright, I'll see you guys later,” she said before turning around, nearly running into your arms. “Y/n? What are you doing here?” she questioned as she looked you up and down.

“I wanted to be your date to your birthday dinner,” you said and shot her a smile. “Happy birthday my love” you added, holding the flowers toward her.

She grabbed the flowers with a confused look before looking back at you. “But I thought you said no?” she played with the leaves of the flowers and leaned against the doorway, unsure of what to think.

“I did…but you're way too awesome to hide and I want to be able to go out with you and give you the life you deserve. I'm not scared of coming out if it means being able to be with you in public. I am in love with you and I want people to know” you explained with a sheepish smile.

Leighton smiled at you and hugged you, “I'm in love with you too.” She pulled back to kiss you passionately. Your hands immediately went to her waist as you reciprocated the kiss. The two of you only pulled back when you heard some awws coming from behind the blonde. Her roommates were standing in the common room of their dorm, staring at you with big smiles. Leighton grumbled and pulled the door shut before pulling you along as you had to get going. “Are you sure about this? I don't want you to regret this”

You chuckled and pulled her into you as you two walked to your car. “I am 100% sure about this. There is nobody I'd rather be out with than you.” The youngest Murray smiled up at you and left the topic alone. You opened the car door for her, acting as if you didn't see everybody on campus staring at you, then closed it before getting in yourself. Your hand placed itself on her thigh while she answered some of her happy birthday texts, a comfortable silence taking over the car. Your nerves got worse with each mile you drove but every time you looked at the girl next to you, you calmed down again. She was definitely worth it.

When you pulled up you already saw the Murrays standing in front of their Range Rover. You parked behind it and gave Leighton a nod before getting out and opening the door for her, holding your hand out to help her get out. “You gonna be fine” she whispered to you as you closed the door and walked up to her family after giving your keys to the valet parking.

“Hello, my name is y/n y/l/n. I am Leighton’s… girlfriend. It's a pleasure to meet you” you said to her parents, shaking each of their hands before settling back to your spot between the siblings. Some anxiety lifted off of you when they smiled at you.

“Well, it's great to meet you y/n. I'm Henry and this is my wife Mimi. Should we go in?” they were extremely nice to you and started to walk in when you two gave them a nod. You were walking behind the rest, your hands intertwined and a big smile on your faces.

The dinner went amazing, her parents were so nice and accepting that your heart ached at the thought of your family never being like this. But when Leighton giggled at some comment Nico made and her parents countered, you couldn't think about anything else but the beauty of this moment.

When dinner was done, and your discussion with Henry over who would pay was over, you walked outside to retrieve your cars. The sun was nearly setting by now and the family still had to drive some hours to get home. “It was really great meeting you y/n. And remember you're invited to the family meeting next month” Mimi said as she hugged you goodbye.

“It was really nice to have you here” Henry said and went to shake your hand, “but don't you dare hurt her” he whispered, still too loud as Leighton groaned behind you.

“I won't sir, I can promise you that” you answered and moved on to say goodbye to her brother when he nodded at you.

Not long after you sat in your car again, your hand placed in hers as you drove back to the campus. “They love you” she happily grinned at you as you drove. “Thank you, for doing this. I know how scared you were” she added.

“This was the greatest thing that I could have done. Thank you for your patience and support baby” you countered as you parked the car and pressed a kiss to her lips. “So, changing and then to the theta party?” she gave you a happy nod and jumped out of the car.

That night you danced together on the dance floor, made out right next to it and went home together with everybody knowing that you were each others. You were happier than every, even though you knee that it was only a small amount of time until your parents would figure it out. But that was a problem for another night.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Dirty Work 22

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: Sinuses are trying but I'm fighting!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

"There you are. Lots to go around," Frigga seals the top of another container. "It'll be a nice surprise, eh?"

"Uh, thank you," you offer a fragile smile.

"Of course, dear. I know how stressful it can be to care for the sick. Odin, my husband, had a scare a few years back. A heart episode..." she explains as she puts the large containers in a cloth bag, "it was a rather eventful family dinner, to say the least."

You let your smile fall. You're reminded of your father on the floor, lifeless, your mouth over his as you desperately tried to breathe life into him. The kitchen blurs around you as you revert to the horror of that moment.

"Darling," Frigga frightens you with a gentle squeeze on your forearm, "apologise if I said something."

"No, no, my dad will be happy," you roll the tension from your shoulders. "Leslie too."

"Leslie?" She prompts curiously.

"His nurse. Sometimes she cooks dinner so this will save her some work."

"Ah, a nurse. That must be expensive."

"A little," you admit, "I have some stuff to finish up on still..."

"Oh, don't let me keep you any longer. I know how demanding my son can be," she pats the bag and slides it to the corner of the counter, "this will be waiting for you."

"Thank you. Again."

You turn to go, little, reluctant steps as you venture back into the large house. Dread slows your feet like a ball and chain as you climb the staircase, pausing every few steps to listen. Mr. Laufeyson is lurking somewhere, like a snake in the grass, you know it.

You turn towards the library and pass the open study door. You peek inside and find it empty.  You press on and knock before you enter the library. Alone, you shut the door and let out a heavy breath.

Your heart is racing as if you've escaped some terrifying race. You go to the desk and sit, leaning forward to plant your elbows in front of the closed laptop and cradle your head. What is happening? You can't handle all this. You need to get it together. But how? You've never dealt with any of this before; the spreadsheet, the woman coddling you, and the man who looms in the shadows.

Shoot! You forgot about Ronan. He's due to finish soon. You should go check on him. You stand up and spin, stopping short as a figure fills the door frame between the study and library. You stare at Mr. Laufeyson like a doe caught before a speeding car.

"You have some time," he raises his wrist, checking his watch; the black band and the blue face, that little accessory that caused so much trouble.

"Um, yes, I was going to see the carpenter--"

"I've dealt with him. He's loading up his truck now," Laufeyson slithers forward, "you needn't worry about him."

"Oh, thank you, Mr. Laufeyson," you look down and open the laptop, stunned by the image on the screen. 

You expect your screensaver to cascade down but instead, there's a woman in a rather scant black and white outfit. Your lips part and you slam shut the computer. Your fingers rest on the lid as Mr. Laufeyson strides closer.

"Hope you don't mind I borrowed your laptop, my own was charging," he purrs, "bit of online shopping, seeing as my mother's hard work should save us some cost on culinary services."

"Mr. Laufeyson," you tremble, staring at the desk, "what..."

He hums and leans in, his fingers splayed wide as he places his hands on the wood, "what...hm?"

You steel yourself and force yourself to look him in the eye. You flinch at the darkness there and stutter. "Wh-what are you doing?"

He snickers and tilts his head, "I simply thought you earned a bonus with all your hard work," his tongue pokes out as he smirks. "It should suit you well..."

You take a step back, nearly falling into the chair as you collide with it. You can't hear above the pounding in your temples. No, it can't be what you think it is. He's not saying that. He can't expect you to wear that... that... thing. You stumble around the seat and scurry to the door, fumbling with the handle as his calm pursuit trails after you.

As you pull the door inward, it snaps back shut. His hand is above you on the wood as he pens you in against the door. You whimper and clutch the handle tightly, pressing yourself to the door as your heart hammers against your ribs. You shudder as his other hand curves around your waist.

"When it arrives, you will put it on," he commands, "and you will begin your duties as always."

"Mr. Laufeyson, please, I'm scared--"

"You needn't be," he purrs as he leans in to inhale your scent, his breath grazing your scalp, "you take orders rather well. I trust you will continue to do so."

"I don't--" you wisp as you brace the door, his fingertips poking into your side as he grips you tighter, "I don't want to..."

"Mm, pet, you should know by now," he loosens his hold on you and lets his hand stretch across your stomach, dragging it up to your chest as he brings himself flush to your back, "this isn't about what you want." He bends and nips your ear with a growl, "you wouldn't want to let dear old dad down, would you?"

You whine and twist the handle frantically. You're pinned to it as he continues to grope you, rolling his body against yours from behind as he groans. You're mortified as heat radiates from his touch and floods your veins. The flames lick at you and have you tingle as nuzzles you breathily.

"Didn't think so," he rasps and slowly draws away.

He backs away as your knees buckle and you slide down the door, crumpling against it. His shadow struts away as your hands shake and you watch them in a haze of shock. You're weak, you're stupid, and you're worthless.

You could scream for help, you could run out, you could try. But you won't because he's right. You can't. You need him more than he needs you.

💄

Mr. Laufeyson opens the door ahead of you, waiting patiently as he turns to watch you. You carry the bag of containers against your work bag down the hall as Frigga trails you. She informs you that she put a few extra goodies in as a surprise. You nod and thank her, trying not to show your discomfort as you near your employer.

"Thank you, mother, but I'm certain she is eager to be away," Laufeyson intones, "she has a loving father waiting for her at home."

You flinch. You still wonder if he'd witnessed that pocket dial or not. He's hard to read even when he's spelling it out clearly. You bid a final goodbye but scuff to a halt as Laufeyson stretches out an arm.

"Allow me," he takes the bag from you, his hand brushing yours before closing around the straps.

"Aw, Loki, my gentleman," Frigga preens, "darling, you have a good night."

You let him take the tote and your work bag. You precede him out the door, fluttering your fingers as if to shake away his touch. He follows you as his mother watches from the door. You keep your head forward as he comes close, sidling around you to open the passenger door before you can do so yourself. His behaviour sets you even more on edge. He's taunting you.

You get in and make yourself as small as you can in the seat. You refuse to look at him as you buckle in. He shuts the door and opens the rear one, placing the bags on the backseat before he diverts around the hood. He claims the driver seat, the car shifting slightly with his weight. He pushes the ignition and the car whirs to life. You fixate on the dashboard, trying to tamp out his presence and the memories nipping at your mind.

He clicks his belt into place and adjusts the mirror. He takes his time. You can tell it's deliberate. You don't understand him, but you're starting to. Everything he does is for his own delight, which he seems to draw only from your distress. You've never met anyone like him.

"A lovely day," he declares as he shifts gear, "wasn't it, pet?"

You blink and look at your lap, tracing a line on your palm.

"Now, don't be rude, I asked a question."

"Yes, Mr. Laufeyson," you mutter.

"You must be tired," his hand wanders from the stick to your knee, "why don't you close your eyes and enjoy the ride?"

"I'm okay," you fold your arms as he squeezes your leg.

"What is the matter, hm? You seem perturbed, pet."

You shudder and put your hand on his as it starts to crawl higher, "Mr. Laufeyson, please stop calling me that."

"I'm tired of your little game," he pinches the tender flesh of your leg.

"I'm not--"

"I've made myself very clear," he taps your leg before slipping his hand out from under yours, "I am interested and that's that. I am wealthy, attractive, I hardly see how it would be an issue..." he steers with one hand as he speaks to the road, "especially for someone like you."

It hurts. To have it said aloud. Not his intent, no, but your worth. Or, what you lack. Who are you to be picky?

You wiggle your nose and turn your face away. You don’t respond as your gaze pans through the window. Your eyes singe and your nose tingles. You feel like the little girl standing against the wall again. The whispers swirling all around you, fingers pointing, voices jeering…

The silence stretches the minutes to eons. You watch the streets pass and lean into each turn. Finally, he steers onto a familiar road. You’re almost there.

He slows and pulls against the curb outside your father’s house. You unbuckle the seat belt and he does the same. You glance up at him but he doesn’t notice. He gets out on his side as you hesitate. Before you can even get your door open, he’s halfway around the car.

You climb out, nearly colliding with the rear door as he swings it open. You sidestep it as he bends to reach within. He pulls out both bags, elbowing the door shut carelessly before stepping up on the pavement. You reach for your work bag and he evades your grasp.

“Ah ah, I insist, it wouldn’t be very nice to let you struggle with all of this.”

You pout. Nice? When has he ever been nice? He’s mocking you again.

“Mr. Laufeyson, please,” you beg, “I can handle it–”

“Go on, pet,” he motions ahead of him with the square tote, “it’s rather rude to refuse an offer of help.”

You cringe and shrug helplessly, throwing your hands up slightly. What else can you do but obey? He knows you have no other choice and he basks in that fact.

You turn and slouch, dragging your feet up the walk as he follows you. You search for an excuse to keep him outside. Some sort of out. He has to understand, your father is sick!

He trails you onto the porch and you stop at the door, facing him.

“I can get it from here,” you eke out.

“Nonsense, I don’t mind–”

“Please, Mr. Laufeyson, my father doesn’t feel well most days. He’s not fit for visitors.”

“I’ve come all this way. I know manners are hardly in vogue around these parts but it is only polite to invite someone in,” he reproaches.

You whimper. Why are you doing this? You don’t ask. You know already. He’s doing it because he can. Because you won’t stop him. You can’t.

“I don’t want you to go in,” you confess as you look down, “please don’t go insi–”

You hear the door, the loud groan of the squeaky hinges before the screen door hits your shoulder. You sidle out of the way and turn to Leslie as she pokes her head out. Her eyes flick up to Mr. Laufeyson and her forehead ripples in surprise.

“I was wondering what all the chatter was,” she opens the door wider, “what’s all this?”

“Um, Leslie,” you gulp, “I…” you blink and look at Mr. Laufeyson, “this is my boss. He just drove me home.”

“How nice,” she remarks, “that’s… him?” She steps out completely, “he’s your boss?”

“Loki,” he introduces himself, “charmed.”

“Me too, me too, I… Leslie, I help her father, I’m the nurse,” she explains.

“We brought dinner,” Laufeyson lifts the tote higher, “my mother wanted to send her well wishes. She heard about her father and wanted to help out.”

“That is so sweet,” Leslie fans herself, “please, sir, come in, come in, Charles will be so happy to meet you.”

Doom crashes down on you. You stand back as Leslie holds the door open and you only vaguely hear Laufeyson’s insistence that you go first. You move in a fuzzy sludge, barely aware of the world around you as your legs carry you on habit alone. 

You stand in the front entryway as Mr. Laufeyson hands over the bag. Leslie takes it with glee and hurries away. You sway and touch your forehead. You wince as he touches your arm.

“Mm, this place is… vintage,” he muses as he nudges you, “please, introduce me. I’ve heard so much.”

You breathe out shakily and curl your fingers into fists. You give a pleading look. You’re already too embarrassed to tell him the truth. He doesn’t want to meet your father and your father doesn’t want to meet him.

You surrender and turn cautiously. You meekly pass through the entryway, your father’s shoulders hunched over the table as he works on the puzzle. You shuffle closer, standing just behind the corner of the couch.

“Dad,” you utter, “um… this is my boss, Mr. Laufeyson. He, er, he brought us some food.”

“Eh, is that what she was going on about?” He snorts into a cough and covers his mouth. He makes no move to rise as he reaches for another piece.

“Charles, is it?” Laufeyson steps forward, stopping just beside you, “I prefer Loki. It’s a pleasure to finally meet.”

“Chuck,” your father snarls, “call me ‘Chuck’.”

“Of course, Chuck, I didn’t mean to presume.”

Your dad tosses the peace and scoffs. He coughs again and stands, adjusting the tub below his nose as he rounds on his visitor. Mr. Laufeyson doesn’t waver as your dad scowls in his direction.

“Wonderful home you have,” Laufeyson offers his hand.

Your father looks at his fingers then narrows his eyes at his face. Mr. Laufeyson is a head taller, though your dad is wider. He claps his hands against your boss’s and tries to jerk his hand. The effort teeters your father but does not affect the other man.

“You’re the one dressing her up like your little whore,” your dad sneers.

Mr. Laufeyson laughs curtly, “pardon?”

“Look at that skirt,” your father spits.

“Better than the rags you supplied,” Mr. Laufeyson retorts without pause, “I can see she didn’t get her manners from you.”

“What did you say to me, boy?” Your father’s face contorts with rage, “you come into my home and– and– and–” 

Your father coughs between each word until he’s racked and quaking. He grips the armrest as he leans forward and covers his mouth, unable to stop the fit. You go to help him but Mr. Laufeyson blocks you with his arm.

“He has his nurse,” he says brusquely.

“Please,” you beg.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you are,” Laufeyson lowers his voice dangerously as your father heaves, clutching his chest. 

“Fuck off,” your dad chuffs out.

Laufeyson snickers and sighs, “are you always so hospitable, sir?”

“If I wasn’t chained to this thing,” your dad clutches the tube trailing down his chest.

“Alas, you are,” the taller man shakes his head, “let’s not. We have a lovely dinner waiting for us. A real man might even be grateful.”

“I’m not hungry,” your father turns and drops onto the couch. “Choke on it.”

Mr. Laufeyson lowers his arm and takes your hand without a look. He drags you away from the couch. He pulls you level with him and commands you to lead him. You take him into the kitchen where Leslie stands by the stove, the radio buzzing on the shelf.

“Just gonna pop it in the oven for a couple,” she smiles, “hon, why don’t you grab some plates?”

“Yes, why don’t you,” Laufeyson urges, “we’ll sit down and have a lovely family dinner.”

[kozachenko]

[Click for better quality]

OK finally back with some more drawings! Since Touhou 17 is approaching it's 5 year anniversary soon, I wanted to draw at least one of the charatcers (hopefully I'll still be motivated to draw Keiki lol) and I had some ideas for Saki and I've never drawn her before, so that's how we got here!

Artist's Notes;

So after doing some drawings of my OCs (who I will reveal upon a later date since I still wanna finalize their designs) and finally getting out of my art funk that I've been in for a while, I started off this drawing with the mentality of "oh yeah I'm just gonna put together this quick outfit for Saki and I won't bother rendering it"

...and then I did but to be honest I am very happy I did because oh my god clothes are so fun to render for me now. I remembered the technique I used on my drawing of Reimu and applied that here. That technique being using triangles to imply shadows and highlights in clothing and then blending out those shadows to give the clothing some three dimensionality. My favourite things that I rendered in this piece were the gloves, hat and the belt buckle (since I applied a technique for rendering gold and metal objects that I remember seeing/hearing about a while ago). Don't get me wrong, I love how all the clothing turned out in this piece but the gloves are the real standout of this piece to me. I also had some fun with the cowboy boots (I couldn't figure out how to make those cool metal star things work on the boots though that is a sin I fully intend to fix later down the line) since when I looked at references for them I noticed how some of them had these intricate details embroidered (?) onto them.

Also, in the earliest phases of this drawing Saki had this really big black coat that I decided to get rid of later down the line because it really does not work with her fighting style and it did not stand out against her wings, and the logistics of her getting said jacket with her wings on confused me. Like, I can kind of imaging that on her shirt she has a little open spot for her wings that she can just put them in. That goes for Yachie to but now I'm even more confused because all her clothes must need some open backs because of her shell??? Which raises some more questions, like, can she just never be on her back when sleeping??? Looking at Yuuma we can see that the beast yakuza in Touhou can freely change their form from human to beast so can Yachie just double down on the human bit and get rid of her shell temporarily so she can sleep comfortably??? Because if she lays on her back is she just kinda wobbling around like most turtles are when they're on their backs? Can she hypothetically retreat into her shell, if so that has some weird implications to how her anatomy works. Like, what does her skeleton look like? Seriously, what are the logistics here WHERE DOES YACHIE GET HER FUCKING CLOTHES BECAUSE THEY PROBABLY NEED TO BE SPECIFICALLY TAILORED SO SHE CAN PUT IT ON TO FIT HER SHELL I DON'T NEED SLEEP I NEED ANSWERS YACHIE WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS-

....rant aside, you can see the remnants of this idea in the tattered back of her... idk what to call it but I know she has a variant of this in her OG design. I mainly wanted to test this out because of the cursed realization that The Ghoul in Fallout Prime is just a male Saki but if Utsuho gave Saki radiation poisoning. No seriously, they're smug ass cowboys who are so sure of their own strength that have fought at least one mechanically engineered robot in some variation of a wasteland with an affinity for dogs. I'm now morbidly curious as to what would happen if you put the two of them in a room together. Would they try to kill each other? Would they become besties? Would they try to kill each other and then become besties? Who knows. But yeah jokes aside the tattered cloth was a design choice that was inspired by The Ghoul from Fallout Prime because y'know, same vibes. And also because yes I do love Fallout Prime and I am so ready for season two IT'S SO GOOD GO WATCH IT EVEN IF YOU AREN'T FAMILIAR WITH FALLOUT AS A SEIRES GO DO IT NOW, SAIL THE SEVEN SEAS FOR IT IF YOU HAVE TO JUST WATCH IT-

I knew for Saki's face I wanted to give her some thick eyebrows, it just makes sense. I also wanted to give her some scarring on her face because she's a crime boss, why wouldn't she have scars? I also had some fun with her little horse ear that's sticking out from the side of her hat since it would kinda look weird if she just had no ears period. I also went ham on stylizing her ponytail into this weird swirl, since if I were to show you some of my recent doodles from my sketchbook you would notice that that has become a common motiffe in some of my art. I don't know why but I just like it. Saki's wings were also very fun, I found a good reference for bird wings that are specifically shaped for high speeds (though I did add some stylistic touches so her one wing that's out wouldn't look like a big blob) since her whole thing is speed. From very early on in the process I knew that I wanted Saki to not look skinny, so I found some refs of female kickboxers for her legs and noticed that while parts of their upper body are maybe a bit toned, it's the legs that have a lot of power. I mainly did this because kicking is a huge part of her fighting style.

Overall, I'm really happy with this drawing, and once Touhou 17's anniversary rolls around I do want to go more in depth on my thoughts in the game, it's themes, and how the animal realm functions as a dark parallel to Gensokyo in many ways. I'll also have to get around to drawing Yachie and Keiki as well (if I still have the time and motivation to do so) since I have some ideas for their designs that I'm very excited to draw (especially Keiki).

[darkfantasysworld]

M!reader x F!cecaelia (half human half octopus) gotta give the guys something to enjoy

You went to the beach late at night for a walk to clear your head. You were wearing a tank top and some shorts that only really covered your thighs, no one was out this late so it's not like anyone would see you anyways. You walked along the shore, feeling the sand beneath your feet, you enjoyed the gentle breeze on your skin. As you walked you didn't think anything was wrong, you were all alone on the beach after all. You suddenly felt someone grab you from behind, a cold, wet hand clamped down over your mouth, you tried to fight against whoever had a hold on you but whoever it was, was too strong. You tried to get free from their grasp when suddenly you heard something rip and felt slimy tentacles snake around your thighs. You looked down and saw large, purple, octopus tentacles wrapped around your thighs, you were so confused and assumed that maybe you were having a weird dream or even hallucinating until you heard her voice. "You're a cute little human." A feminine voice came from behind you, it had a naturally seductive tone that made you blush a bit upon hearing it. You tried to speak but the hand was still covering your mouth. Suddenly your vision got blurry, the last thing you heard was the woman holding you chuckle.

You woke up in a cave of some sort, handcuffed to a bed, you looked around and tried to figure out where you were but you didn't recognize anything, the cave was decorated like a genuine house though. You tried to speak but realized you were gagged, you tried to sit up and noticed that you were stripped naked. You started to try and struggle against the handcuffs but you couldn't break them. You saw a tall figure enter the cave, you recognized the purple tentacles coming out of the figure's back, it was the woman from last night. She had short, chestnut brown hair, tanned skin, and stunning garnet red eyes. You noticed her figure, she was fit, had abs, and she was definitely strong… you stared at her arms for a moment before taking in her outfit, she was wearing a red bikini that matched her eyes and it had purple lines on it that almost looked like her tentacles in a way. You could see her happy trail and blushed slightly, looking away. "See something you like, hun?" The woman teased, walking over to you and putting a hand on your cheek. You looked up at her… well… you tried to but your eyes landed on her chest, you didn't know much about bras but she definitely seemed like a B or C cup. "I'll take the gag off if you promise not to scream." She said and you nodded in agreement, lifting your head a bit. She smirked and reached behind your head, removing the gag. "Wh-who are you..? Wh-what do you want with me..?" You asked, your voice was a little shaky. "Marina. I just wanted to have a look at a normal human up close." The woman responded, her hand trailing down your body, her nails grazed your skin sending a shiver down your spine. "Wh-what are you..?" You asked, looked at her tentacles, one of which gently touched your cheek, leaving a slimy spot where it touched. "I'm a cecaelia, part human and part octopus." Marina smiled, her hand moving back up your torso, gently grabbing your neck, she touched your pulse point with her thumb, gently rubbing it a bit. You swallowed hard, not knowing what she was going to do. "I need a mate and you happen to be the perfect victim." She said, looking at your face, she stared at your eyes for a moment, taking in their more natural color as opposed to her more unnatural red eyes. You looked away, blushing slightly but you quickly felt a tentacle wrapped around your cock, stroking it, the tentacle was slimy, seemingly lubricating your cock. "Hey-! N-no-!" You protested but the tentacle continued to stroke your cock. Marina pulled her bikini bottoms off, followed by her top and got on top of you despite your protests. She spread her legs, making you watch as your cock pushed past her folds and disappeared inside of her as she moaned. You let out a small whimper, your eyes tearing up as she rode you, you didn't want this but it also felt so good. You closed your eyes tightly, praying this would be over quickly until you felt a tentacle slide inside of you, you moaned and your eyes snapped open. You continued to let out little moans until the tentacle hit your sweet spot, Marina could tell you liked when the tentacle hit that spot so she kept making the tentacle hit it. "Good boy." She said, her hand found its way to your neck and she squeezed, gently choking you. You didn't last long at all and she forced you to cum inside of her.

[zylophie]

🔮 .巫术 — pleasant surprise | featuring: robin

🪄 ★ ₊˚𝙎𝙔𝙉𝙊𝙋𝙎𝙄𝙎꒱ ₊˚⊹ Robin has always been looking into the crowd eagerly for [y/n]. However, due to their busy schedule, Robin could never find them in the crowd. Only to find a pleasant surprise one day..

🦋★ ₊˚𝘾𝙒꒱ ₊˚⊹ a little suggestive(?) 🔮 ★ ₊˚𝙂𝙀𝙉𝙍𝙀꒱ ₊˚⊹ fluff 💫 ★ ₊˚𝙉𝙊𝙏𝙀꒱ ₊˚⊹ I love robin so much, I was in literal tears(of joy) when I found out Chevy was her singer. I have been such a fan of Chevy for a long time skbdksndkdjd. Also, I can't believe I'm willingly writing fluff on my own record.. 💌 ★ ₊˚𝙄𝙉𝙁𝙊𝙍𝙈𝘼𝙏𝙄𝙊𝙉꒱ ₊˚⊹ If you'd like to request click 'here!' and read the rules~ 🐈‍⬛ ★ ₊˚𝙇𝙄𝙉𝙆꒱ ₊˚⊹ hsr masterlist 🧹 ★ ₊˚𝙉𝙊𝙒 𝙋𝙇𝘼𝙔𝙄𝙉𝙂꒱ ₊˚⊹ pleasant surprise | featuring: robin

★ Whenever Robin was doing her shows, she would always desperately try to look for [y/n] in the crowd.

★ However, every single time Robins' eyes were darting eagerly around the crowd.. [y/n] was never there.

★ Robin slowly stopped trying to find [y/n] in the crowd eventually, but there's still a part of her that wishes that [y/n] would be there during one of her shows

★ Until one day.. She came across something which immediately brightens her mood for her upcoming performance..

'I didn't see [y/n] in the crowd again.. It's been a long time since they've been to my shows.'

Robin sighs as she dabs more makeup removal onto her cotton pads, before bringing it up to her face. She was feeling exhausted from performing for so long, as well as getting interviewed by her fans.

She remembered how she would always ask [y/n] if they are able to come to her shows, but was always left with a vague answer.

After she was done with removing most of her makeup. She tied her hair into a low lose bun, intending to take a bath afterwards. When suddenly..

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

Robin's wings perked up. Knowing who it is outside, Robin couldn't contain her smile. Already feeling more energized than before, she went to go and get the door for whoever was behind it.

"Robin~! I'm back, how was your performanc-"

Usually [y/n] would often visit Robin a few hours after her show is done, so that they could spend a bit of time together. Expecting Robin to still be in her performance outfit still, however, when [y/n] opened their eyes. They saw Robin with a completely new hairstyle. It was also the first time they saw Robin look so disheveled, not only that, [y/n] didn't expected to be greeted with Robin in her lingerie too! [Y/n] immediately closed their eyes and faced to the ground.

"A-ah, Robin! I bought y-your favourite f-food! P-please e-enjoy it!"

Before Robin could even reply, [y/n]'s figure could be seen getting smaller and smaller, as they ran through the hallway after leaving their things behind.

'Ah.. Did they not like what they see? I guess I did look pretty untidy..'

Robin sighed, before shaking her head. Before shutting the door to take a shower, she'll talk to reader later.

THUD!

"Huh? What was that sound?"

As Robin turned around, she saw a notebook had fallen from her desk in her room. Robin moved towards the item to pick it up.

'Strange.. I don't remember this in my room..'

Robin flipped to the first page to see a familiar handwriting of the name who the book belongs to. "[Y/n]'s personal sketchbook".

'Ah, so it is [y/n]'s! I'm a little bit curious of their work since the last time I saw their art it was a few months ago.. Maybe I'll just take a peek, surely they won't mind, right?'

She flipped to the next page. Robin's eyes widened when she saw a fully colored illustration of herself in her performance outfit today! Many thoughts went through her mind.

'Wow, [y/n]'s artworks are always so spectacular!'

'I'm really happy they drew me'

'Wait.. How did they see me in this outfit? It's my first time wearing it and all the details are drawn correctly.. Today's live hasn't been published publicly yet too..'

Robin continued to flip through the notebook, only to find drawings of her only in all of her past performance outfits, until a few pair of words on the back of her today's performance caught her eye.

'Dear diary..'

Oops! Robin realised she may have accidentally stumbled into the wrong area, however, her curiosity was peaked and wanted to continue reading to see if she can get answers from how [y/n] was able to get her outfits drawn to a tee.

'Robin's outfit today was really pretty. It was sparkling, but not as bright as she was! I wish I could talk to her after her performance asap, but whenever Robin is in a new outfit in general. I'll just be a blushing AND stuttering mess! I won't be able to talk to her properly.. I'm so glad I got a seat at the very back! Since the performance was 2 hours, I got plenty of time to ready myself before I see her. Gotta finish this drawing fast!'

Robin's wings flutter in joy. One, because she was glad that [y/n] does come to her shows. Secondly, she realised the reason why they looked towards the ground earlier, she giggled before playing the book down with an uncontrollable smile.

"I'll return it to them later~"

© zylophie 2024. do not steal, copy, repost, edit, translate or use my works.

[tequilawitholives]

Two Truths One Lie

Smosh: Shayne Topp x Reader

WC: 1.8K

Warnings: A little bit of suggestive(looks n feelings), use of she/her pronouns, Y/N is one of the ogs in smosh, slight fluff if u squint, Y/N is kinda famous

It was a warm day in California when the team chose to make Y/n and Shayne film the video, which they both silently thanked them for. Getting sprayed with ice cold water wouldn't be as harmful with the weather.

"Are you ready to get sprayed to death?" Shayne joked while bumping his shoulder into Y/n who turned to smirk at him.

Y/n only ignored his comment and walked into the studio where Courtney, Amanda and Angela hung out in their stools beside the "game" table.

It was a little intimidating, the guns leaning against the table while a crew member filled them both up with water.

Shayne followed after Y/n into the studio and walked with her to the sound manager who mic'ed them up, connecting their microphone while the two of them clipped the small black electronics onto their clothes.

As they finished with that, the studio manager once again called everyone to their places, checking so that everyone were feeling alright.

Y/n sat down across Shayne, Courtney to her left as she looked down at the cards in front of her.

Before any filming session, Y/n always felt a shock of adrenaline pulse through her veins, as if she felt like any second, her body would explode - which it never did of course.

"And.. Action!" Emily, the director, shouted. The studio turned quiet before Shayne turned to the camera with a dramatic sigh escaping his mouth.

"Welcome, everyone, to another round of Two Truths One Lie. In this game, me and an opponent tell three statements, where two of those statements are truths and the other one a lie." Shayne explained, still in his dramatic voice.

"If my opponent, who is Y/n today, say hi Y/n." He continued

"Hello." Y/n answered shortly, smiling into the camera.

"As I said, if my opponent fails to find my lie, I get to spray her with water, but if she succesfully finds my lie, I get sprayed by her with water."

"I think I put on the wrong clothes for this." Y/n stated, looking down at her outfit, which was a knitted sweater with some grey baggy jeans.

"Atleast you look cute!" Courtney added, making Y/n and Shayne chuckle.

Amanda coughed, glaring at the pair in front of her.

"Oh, right! This is our three watchers. Courtney, Amanda and Angela." Shayne introduced the three women, making them mutter things with annoyance.

"I'm so happy to have gathered boygenius with us today." Y/n joked, making the whole studio laugh at her joke.

"Anyway, would you like to go first?" Shayne asked Y/n who nodded, clearing her throat dramatically.

"Here are my statements. First one. I have been in a relationship with Jeanette McCurdy for an event." Y/n began, making Amanda chuckle a short laugh at the first statement.

"I have kissed Tom Cruise, on the mouth." Shayne's eyes widened at this, not at all ready for this.

"I was in a marching band in Japan when I was fifteen." Y/n said her last statement with a small smile while Shayne stared at Y/n mysteriously, trying to figure out which one is the truth.

"Okay, first statement. When and where was it?" Shayne asked as Y/n put her card down.

"It was at an event, some Nickelodeon event. I don't remember the year but I remember we were talking and I asked if for a joke we should fake a relationship for the whole event and she agreed. Really nice person she is!" Y/n explained while keeping a straight face.

Shayne nodded.

"And the next one? That seems like such a lie but if it's not I'm so jealous of you." He joked, making the trio beside him chuckle.

"Okay, so I got booked into an actual move not too long ago, no clue who was my love interest or anything, but when I arrived to the "love" scenes, there Tom Cruise was. I think it was about seven years ago or so."

The studio was quiet, everyone actually intrigued to hear the whole story, even the trio sat quietly.

"Wow, and do you remember the kiss?" Shayne sarcastically asked, but he actually wanted to know.

"I do, it was a great kiss. I was a nervous wreck but he was so calm and collected and just a nice co-worker to work with." Y/n answered with a soft smile on her face.

"And the third one?"

"As many of you know, I've lived in Japan with my family for a part of my life. And some of you know I also play the clarinet, well played, and I wanted to play it in a marching band so I joined one." Y/n explained, quite easily.

"I think I know the lie." Shayne said quickly with a smirk while Y/n only sat with a soft smile on her face.

"It's the second one, the Tom Cruise one." He continued and Y/n sighed, looking down at the table.

But she quickly grabbed the water gun and sprayed Shayne in the chest with the ice cold water.

"WHAT!?!?!?" Angela shouted while Shayne sat in shock.

"You've actually kissed Tom Cruise?" He asked, eyes wide as he laughed in just pure shock.

"I have! It was some movie, I don't remember but I was the love-interest." Y/n chuckled while putting her gun down, letting it lean against the table.

"Wait so which one was the lie?" Shayne asked, making Y/n smile.

"The marching band one. I moved to Japan when I was fifteen but joined the marching band when I was eightteen because they had an age restriction." Y/n told the group who all made 'aah' noises as an understanding.

"Alright, so my turn. I have eaten a whole tarantula on camera. I have eaten a bull penis on camera. I have eaten surströmming on camera." Shayne said quickly.

"Okay, I know one of these 100%. You did eat a tarantula. It was on Mythical Kitchen. I was there with you but I chickened out and never ate the spider but you did." Y/n thought outloud, looking directly into Shayne's eyes.

Shayne chuckled and smiled, knowing that Y/n was right with that, they both were there.

"Ah, shit. I wasn't on the filming day of the surströmming. I remember it was you and Noah and his two brothers. Shit." Y/n muttered and sighed.

"I think the bull penis one is the lie. You must've eaten some piece of surströmming that day, your fingers smelt like shit after that I remember that." She claimed, making Shayne laugh.

"Are you sure?" Shayne checked with her and she nodded.

"I'm sorry Y/n, but you are very wrong-"

"Shit! No- No please, spare me!" Y/n began shouting as she watched Shayne pull the gun up from his side.

"LET ME TAKE OFF MY SWEATER FIRST PLEASE!" She continued yelling as everyone else laughed their asses off at her reaction.

Shayne let her take her sweater off and so she did.

Y/n unclipped her mic and pulled her sweater off, her t-shirt slightly following with but with the help of Courtney who held the shirt down, she threw the sweater away to the side.

While all of this was happening, Shayne felt his ears turn slightly pink at the sight of Y/n's stomach and a small part of her ribcage.

What was going on with him? He thought, blinking his quiet suggestive thoughts away.

"Okay, I'm ready." Y/n said, now only in a tanktop.

Shayne chuckled and slowly pumped the water gun, making Y/n nervous.

"Shayne! Just do i-" Y/n got interrupted by Shayne shooting water against her stomach, making Y/n jerk in shock.

The studio began laughing in the scene that just happened.

"OW! MY SIX-PACK!" Y/n joked, making the studio continue laughing, even Shayne laughed, his eyes closed as he did.

The studio calmed down and Y/n and Shayne continued the game, Shayne absolutely failing the game, getting completely drenched in water.

After a shot of water was shot against Shayne, Angela began joking about something, distracting the studio and audience of what happened anywhere else.

Y/n took the chance to look at Shayne who focused on Angela.

He had a big part of his t-shirt completely soaked, and Y/n kinda thanked herself for that, because now she could see Shayne's chest.

Her eyes drifted down a little before looking back up, but now on Angela who was still talking about who know's what.

Now it was Shayne's turn to look at Y/n, her tanktop had only gotten a little soaked, only showing some parts of her bra underneath.

Shayne had to control his breathing, his hands tightly knitted together underneath the tablecloth as he felt his ears turn pink again. He had felt Y/n's stare, he wasn't gullible, and damn did it make him feel good.

They continued the game after Angela's rant and finally it ended, ending with Y/n winning quite naturally.

The cameras turned off and the pair of them walked up to the sound manager who they handed their microphones to before walking out from the studio.

"That was fun, really." Y/n began, smiling softly at Shayne who chuckled, looking down at himself.

"Yeah, sure, maybe for you." He sighed dramatically, making Y/n grin while pushing Shayne's shoulder jokingly.

"Oh, shit, I forgot my sweater. Let me go get it." Y/n remembered, running back into the studio and getting the sweater.

As she picked up her sweater, Courtney walked up to her with a small smile.

"I saw you looking at him." She blurted out, making Y/n look up at her with slight wide eyes.

"I-"

"And he was looking at you too, y'know." Courtney said while smirking as she watched Y/n's cheeks turn slightly pink.

"Okay, fine. I was looking at him, he looked hot okay." Y/n sighed, confessing to Courtney who chuckled.

"Don't tell me that, tell it to him." She said while nodding to someone behind Y/n, who turned around to see Shayne stand there with slightly tinted ears.

"Oh-" Y/n said before trying to stutter something about how she did think like that and that it was okay if he didn't feel the same.

"Y/n, would you like to go out with me?" Shayne interrupted her rambling, making her stop in her tracks.

"What?" She asked, flabbergasted.

"Would you like to go out with me?" Shayne asked again, now with a smile on his face.

"Ye-Yeah, that'd be nice." Y/n said, now also with a grin on her face as she watched Shayne nod and walk away.

"Finally! I've waited for that since you both started working here." Courtney groaned, walking away from Y/n who stood there, excitement filling her entire body.