#The voices in my head told me to post this

[prael]

Day 3: Reciprocation

Itzy Yeji x male reader smut

words: 6,714 12 Days of Praelmas Masterlist

If there's one thing you've learned dealing with the rich, the famous and the devious, it's that there's always a deal to be made.

-

"Not often that I see a girl like you in a place like this."

"Well, you're an incredibly difficult man to track down."

It's the girl who's supposed to be on the main page of your site starting tomorrow morning. You gesture for Yeji to sit by your side, and while there are more than enough empty seats around you, she prefers to stand. What is this, a fucking power move?

"Well, you could have just called my office and made yourself an appointment."

It doesn't amuse her. She simply brings her hands up to rest on her hips as she looks at you.

"Look, let's get to the point. You can't post the article." There is something rather endearing in watching how she talks to you. Her hips are cocked and her face bears a look of determination, but she lacks confidence. You're not sure she even believes herself. Maybe she's just hoping that you'll cave.

You meet her eyes and hold her gaze for a few moments, searching for a crack in her armour. It's hard to say for certain when the only lighting in this club is what little neon they have on display, but there seems to be something else hiding behind her stare. A nervous energy, perhaps. So, you correct her, "I can post the article."

"Look— I, I have money." She takes a single stride towards you, with her long slender legs of which only part of her thigh is covered by the bottom of her dress. That thing clings to them like it does every other inch of her body. One hell of a figure.

"I'm well aware."

"Okay then, how much money will it take for you to drop the article?"

"Money doesn't compare to an article like this one—you know that. Come on," you lean forward a bit. "You should be smarter than that."

"How much?!" Yeji says again. There's an edge to her voice now and a stern look in her eyes. She must feel that you're not taking her seriously—honestly, you aren't. You can't count the number of times an agency has tried to block an article by simply throwing money your way. The novelty has worn off. 

"Listen, Miss Hwang, I appreciate the effort you have gone through to manufacture a meeting with me, however, just like I told your PR team, I'm not for sale. Should you want to avoid this sort of thing, then I'd recommend being a little more discreet the next time you want to fuck around." You glance at the door leading out. The exit sign above is blinking erratically, but it serves its intended purpose nonetheless. "I'll see you in tomorrow morning's news."

"No."

"No?" You raise an eyebrow. She may be a star and she may make people go crazy in more ways than one, but if you've learned something about yourself over the years, it's that you aren't as easily swayed by beauty alone, nor impressed by fame.

Yeji remains silent, her eyes looking down to the table in front of you and your mind instantly starts conjuring up scenarios where the girl goes into a screaming fit or starts throwing a tantrum until security drags her sorry ass out the door.

Her head snaps up again. "Fine." Yeji turns sideways and steps around the small table. It becomes apparent that she plans on sitting by your side, after all. She isn't exactly looking at you as she plops herself onto the cushioned bench. "You said 'next time', right?" She begins quietly.

In spite of yourself, a smile appears on your face when you see the wheels turn inside of Yeji's head. "I don't think I understand."

"Yes, you do," Yeji replies dryly. And with the certainty now back in her voice, it appears you've misjudged her.

When you remain silent for a few moments, Yeji eventually gives in and takes a quick, inconspicuous breath before looking up again. Her face is but inches from your own. "Have sex with me tonight."

It takes effort not to burst into laughter in response to such an absurd offer, and as a result, the amusement is probably pretty damn clear in the tone of your reply. "You're cute."

"I'm serious."

You look the girl in the eyes once more, leaning backwards. "You know how much trouble you could get into for trying something like this, right?"

Yeji's jaw clenches momentarily. "Yeah."

You gaze down along her body again. The skin on her thighs seems smooth and silky; definitely worth a closer inspection, and you would be lying if you said the knowledge of her dirty hook-ups didn't have your mind wondering about all the ways she might be willing to work her body in an attempt to sway you. You wonder if she likes it rough; likes having someone grab hold of those black locks of hers and yank her head back. Likes having a cock slammed down her throat. Your thoughts quickly go into a tailspin which has you imagining Yeji crawling towards you dressed up in nothing but skimpy lingerie, a hungry smile plastered across her face and a yearning desire to find out what sort of mess you could turn her into.

"So," you begin quietly. "I don't release an article about the K-pop star who keeps sneaking out into hotels to get herself fucked—and in exchange, I get to sleep with the K-pop star who keeps sneaking out into hotels to get herself fucked. Do I have that right?"

You see the embarrassment cross Yeji's features briefly, yet she still manages to bite out her reply with certainty: "Yes."

For some reason, even though she's been found out and forced into making such an absurd deal, she refuses to lower her gaze away from yours, almost daring you to judge her. You've seen her music videos online—goddamnit, everyone has—and she's sexy as hell. No one would deny that, and she looks stunning in that black dress of hers. It really compliments her figure. Legs go on for days, a toned physique and looking down the front of her dress as she leans into you, a pretty little pair of tits hidden somewhere in there as well.

"I've been propositioned before, you know, but usually that's to get their face on the front page, not off it." You cock your head at her. "How badly do you want this dropped, anyway?"

"What are you trying to say?"

You lean back slowly, deliberately, resting your shoulders against the seat as you feel Yeji's eyes study your every move. Despite the terrible lighting, you can tell she's biting her lip nervously. She's so close that the scent coming off her fills the air around you. It's a pleasant smell. One you wouldn't mind having all over your bed.

"I'll be blunt." Your eyes fall to her chest and you take note of how Yeji squirms under your stare. A tiny smile appears on your lips. "I'd love to fuck you. Hell, anyone in their right mind would love to fuck you. You're a very attractive girl, after all." You nod in her direction. "So, that part will happen if I agree to this deal of yours, however, there's one thing you haven't accounted for."

Yeji meets your stare. Her voice is low, yet resolute. "Which is?"

"You have no idea of whether or not I'm actually going to uphold my end of the bargain."

She pauses in silence and then moves her hand across the table, scooping up your drink and raising it to her full lips. As she knocks back the remainder, the way her slender neck stretches makes you wish you could wrap your hands around it.

The glass hits the table and Yeji licks her lips softly. The sight has you licking your own and for just a second, the both of you simply gaze at each other in silence, almost sizing each other up. Yeji finally shifts closer to you until she's right by your side. Her breasts press up against your shoulder and you feel her warmth on your arm.

One of her delicate hands lands gently in your lap and slides upwards onto your thigh where she starts to draw small circles with her fingertips. You wonder if she notices the slight hitch in your breath as she touches you. "We can go to your office. Sign a document. Legally binding. Non-disclosure. And agree to write a favourable piece about me. You can send out the request to your best columnist there and then. And then you can take me right there." Her words come out in soft whispers and her eyes dart over your face, trying to read your reaction.

Yeji is young and beautiful and she's clearly horny enough to get herself into this kind of mess. It doesn't come as too much of a surprise to you, then, when you feel a delicate fingertip trace over your crotch. "Take you?"

"On your desk. Over your desk," she elaborates shamelessly and with a hint of cheek in her voice. There's a smug expression on her face. She's enjoying herself but also relieved to be getting through to you. "However you want me."

"So, it's an exchange? A dirty deal done in the darkness?"

Yeji smirks. "I prefer to call it reciprocation."

-

Friday night in the office and it still has the passive hum of life, though not much of it. Cutting through the air is the loud clack of Yeji's high heels as she follows you silently past empty room after empty room. The interns putting in the long hours are all on the lower floors, giving you just enough discretion.

You glance back briefly at her before rounding the corner. Just like you had imagined, she seems rather timid now. Head held slightly down and glancing around the place, almost like she's embarrassed to be here with you.

Finally, you reach your private office near the far wall of the floor and wave Yeji inside. As you step up to your desk and turn, Yeji closes the door behind herself and watches you intently. The soft light in here gives you a much better opportunity to appreciate her.

"Come." You gesture her over while simultaneously logging into your PC.

It only takes a few simple clicks to bring up a basic confidentiality agreement which you proceed to edit. "As requested," you begin. "This agreement prohibits me from writing anything related to your numerous encounters with nameless men and women in various hotels throughout Seoul. Failure to abide by these terms enables you to take legal action against me and my firm to any extent deemed necessary."

She places her palms on the desk as you turn the monitor to show her. She reads it. You read here. Leaning forward has the front of her dress hang open a bit further. It's the first glance you get of her red bra underneath and the swell of her chest, just big enough for handfuls. She sees your wandering eyes, yet continues to scan the terms of the contract. It makes you curious if the idea of being looked at like some cheap slut turns her on. Maybe you should try referring to her as such. Would she object? Or encourage?

Yeji nods in approval and you click 'print'. She looks past you, watching it emerge from the machine.

"That's all we need," you say, never looking away from her. There's something mesmerising about her eyes. They're large, they're dark and they tend to draw you in. "Now I can't expose your whorish tendencies."

She looks offended momentarily. "Whorish?"

"Two months. Forty-two hotel visits were recorded. Thirty-five different partners." The chair rolls away as you push it back and stand up, towering over her frame. "Yes, you're fucking whorish, Yeji. Our research was thorough."

"I'm just having fun." She stops leaning on the desk. You both take a step in unison, beginning to round the desk while staring each other down. The moment feels tense. "There's nothing wrong with that."

"Oh, I agree completely."

Another step. Another inch towards each other.

"There's no shame in being a bit of a slut. An incredibly beautiful slut."

A third.

You're face to face. Those heels make her almost as tall as you, and you glance at Yeji's lips as the tip of her tongue suddenly darts out over them. The only sound between the two of you is your shared breathing. Yeji tilts her head back slightly and gazes into your eyes, waiting expectantly for you to act upon your desire. Waiting for you to throw her onto the desk and fuck the living shit out of her, just as she asked for.

You wait.

Her lower lip disappears beneath the bite of her teeth.

Wait.

A sudden flush rises up onto Yeji's cheeks, undoubtedly born from her frustration, but you don't miss the excitement hiding within it either. Then, Yeji takes another step forward, one which has you taking hold of her waist, pushing yourself hard up against her body.

Almost instantly, the pair of you go from hesitant to frantic, moving without a single word being spoken between either of you.

Your mouths meet in an open-mouthed kiss of heat, passion and impatience. There's a gasp coming from somewhere, a mixture of a moan as the two of you collide. It takes more willpower than expected not to shove your tongue down Yeji's throat as you feel hers slide against yours in an instant. Fingernails dig into your neck; not hard enough to leave marks, yet not soft enough to be mistaken as anything else than a woman showing what she wants. It's exactly what you wanted to do when you first saw her tonight.

She bites on your lip, sucks on it and goes straight back in. You grab hold of her tightly and shuffle her backwards towards the desk. You can barely restrain yourself. A groan rises up in the depths of your stomach when Yeji parts her legs slightly, welcoming your body in between them.

Every part of you tells you to bend her over and start hammering yourself into her, yet there's still one last detail you must attend to. You break free of Yeji's grasp and shove her roughly down onto your desk.

Her hair fans out around her head and her gaze looks darker somehow, more lustrous under this light. You follow her shape, down, over the bumps of her breasts, the dip of her waist, the curve of her hips and then to the hem of her dress, where bare thigh begins again. She shudders under the weight of your stare. Legs falling apart, invitingly.

You feel Yeji tremble under your tender touch as you run your hand up the outside of her thigh and push up the fabric of her dress. The tips of your fingers bump along the rim of her underwear before reaching her hip where you trace shapes absentmindedly. She's smooth and silky everywhere.

"What is it?" Yeji asks breathlessly when you don't move for a few moments. Your attention remains firmly locked on that final detail. The thin lace material covering her cunt.

You look her dead in the eyes and curl your fingers around it. "Just wondering how many different people have had you like this."

The red lace is pulled aside. Yeji stares at you, seemingly taken aback by your bluntness as you lean down a little further and angle her leg to the side, letting cool air hit every inch of her bare sex. And it's a lovely sight, all things considered. Neat, trimmed and glistening wet. Your hand moves across her thigh to hold her in place. "Usually I'm on top," Yeji replies, finally regaining her confidence.

"You'd rather be riding me, huh?"

"Yes." Yeji's answer comes immediately. Your cock is stiffening already at the mere thought of having her small body bouncing in your lap as she rides your length like a bitch in heat.

She runs her own hands up her slender frame, feeling up the sides of her own waist, skirting around those perky tits and letting out the smallest whimper of anticipation as she caresses the side of her neck. Her eyelashes flutter with desire. It seems the girl enjoys being admired just as much as you enjoy admiring.

"Don't worry, you'll get to ride it soon enough." Slowly, you drag your middle finger up between her folds, making sure you put enough pressure down against the sweet little bud of nerves to make her arch her back at the sensation. A deep inhale catches itself in the back of Yeji's throat when you sink your fingertip inside of her, only for it to turn into a disappointed sigh when you withdraw.

She bites her lip in embarrassment, no doubt mortified that she couldn't keep quiet at such a simple action, although that doesn't stop you from repeating the movement, applying more pressure and then sinking further into her. This time you withdraw and then taste your finger curiously. If the sweet scent wafting off her wasn't enough indication, she tastes as good as she looks.

"How are you so wet already?" you ask. "All from thinking about getting railed over my desk, hmm?" You ask teasingly, lowering your mouth down closer to her pussy and holding your breath for a moment. You can feel the warmth coming off her.

"It's exciting."

"What, fucking a stranger?"

"Yes," Yeji says bluntly. She wets her lips. "There's nothing quite like giving yourself up to someone completely random."

Your hand slides down her calf and gently pulls off her heel. As soon as it hits the ground, it's replaced with a slow and tender kiss on the inside of her ankle. The skin is just as smooth and supple as the rest of her. From here you have a much better view of how her delicate little flower pulses in longing.

Your head dips and you suck hard on Yeji's inner thigh. You delight in the surprised yelp leaving her mouth as you rake your teeth over her soft skin, pulling at it before letting go. It leaves behind a lovely purple bruise which you blow cold air over, soothing the irritated skin. It makes you smile, knowing that mark will remain for a week, to be seen by whoever she fucks next.

"Do you get excited thinking about having me join the list of cocks pounding away at you?"

Without allowing Yeji time to think, your tongue finds her clit and starts drawing shapes around it. "Yes!" You hear her hiss. Your left arm reaches under her thigh and keeps her pinned down to the table while your right does the same, only giving your tongue freedom to dance over her wet cunt.

You sample her thoroughly, getting her used to the feeling of your warm tongue running over every part of her. You apply more pressure to your work once you notice Yeji bucking her hips upwards to grind against your mouth.

"Oh shit." Yeji is panting heavily now, gasping for breath whenever you pay special attention to her clit. Her thighs quiver every so often, tensing around your head. "Don't—don't stop."

Yeji has the nicest legs you've ever laid eyes on. The way they wrap tightly around your head, squeezing the air out of you when you suck down on her swollen clit, it feels heavenly.

Suddenly, Yeji's hips thrust forward, throwing your rhythm off momentarily.

"Mmm, oh—fuck," she whimpers as you feel her body shake and quiver underneath your touch. Your pace doesn't slacken even once throughout.

"Fuck," Yeji whines louder this time. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum."

Already?

You put more pressure on her hips, keeping them pinned down as best as possible, whilst your tongue attacks her with fervent desperation, spurred on by Yeji's declaration. As the seconds pass by, Yeji becomes more vocal, though not with her words—with her actions. Her breathing picks up noticeably. Soon it becomes short and ragged. Her chest heaves. Her fingers claw into the surface below her. Her spine curves beautifully and her lips hang open wide, allowing loud cries to escape her.

She practically sings out for you as her nails scratch at your desk, looking for something to hold on to, something to ground her. Her whole body tenses up for several moments.

Then it happens.

Her mouth opens up wide yet no sound comes out, her back arches almost unnaturally and her juices coat your chin. The silence hangs in the air, heavy, palpable as her walls contract in ecstasy. Then it's finally broken with a loud snap. One of her fake nails pops off and flies across the room as she grips too hard on the edge of the desk.

Then she moans. Guttural, wanton, unrestrained, absolutely filthy. It fills the room, reverberating back to you in a delicious chorus of hedonism and pleasure. She lies there limp with her eyes shut. Her mouth open. Panting heavily. Basking in the glow.

"So easily?" you ask quietly. Yeji takes a deep breath, trying to steady her heart rate. Your hands leave her hips, caressing her trembling flesh, sliding upwards, running up her dress and over the curve of her waist until you reach her shoulders. You tug the straps down the length of her arms and lean closer, pushing the soft material down to reveal the top of her matching red lingerie. Your hand cups the back of her head. She instinctively knows to lift it.

You lower your lips down to her collarbone as you reach behind her to unzip her dress. The sensation of your kisses against her neck draws another moan out of Yeji. A quiet one this time, however. Gentle. Contended.

You kiss upwards, planting several against the underside of her jaw and the corners of her lips. "I can't stop myself," she whispers, opening her eyes just in time for you to press your lips against hers, tasting the lingering sweetness in your mouth. She smiles.

"Let's get you out of that dress," you say and she nods in agreement. "Up," you order softly and Yeji complies, lifting herself high enough for you to pull the material down her waist and over the length of her thighs. It falls to the ground in a heap at her feet. All that remains is the expensive-looking red underwear set she chose for this occasion.

The two of you exchange looks. She bites her lip. She can see the burning lust raging within your eyes. You don't care if it gives the game away.

There's an absolutely wicked smile that draws across her lips as you start to unbutton your shirt. Her voice is all sultry seduction when she says, "I've been meaning to ask you, are you always swayed so easily?"

"Honestly? Not really," you respond calmly, watching how her eyes eagerly take in your torso as you shrug off your clothing. "Maybe there is something about you that's just..." you trail off, unsure of how to end the sentence.

Yeji sits up on the edge of the desk and throws her arms around your neck, dragging you in closer so that your bodies connect. You feel her lips press against your chest in soft kisses. A finger trails over your abdomen, drawing patterns over your skin before moving downwards. "Yes?"

"Different." Your belt is quickly undone and dropped alongside her dress. Nimble fingers begin unbuttoning your trousers. You run your hands through her hair, appreciating how silky it feels running through your fingers.

Yeji has her gaze focused between your bodies, on her hands as they push your jeans down to the floor and you notice the change in her breathing the moment she wraps her hand around your cock.

She kisses her way up to your neck where her lips tickle your skin as she mumbles: "In a good way?"

Yeji presses the flat of her palm against the base of your erection, rubbing slowly. Your head tilts backwards slightly and you allow yourself a low groan. There's a warm puff of air as she giggles quietly against your neck.

"In a great way," you answer.

"Good," she purrs, suddenly tightening her grip on you and giving you several deliberate strokes. You watch intently as Yeji runs her thumb over the tip of your dick, circling it a few times before continuing with her motions. She leans closer, wrapping her legs around your body and placing her mouth by your ear. "I know what I said earlier about loving to ride a cock and all that," her voice is filled with lust. Pure, unbridled desire. "But honestly? I'd do just about anything right now to have you fuck me against this desk."

And that does it for you.

All semblance of control vanishes entirely in a heartbeat.

You drag her from her perch, only to turn her around and push her right back against the desk. Yeji bends over the edge and places both her palms flat atop it. You watch her toned legs move apart as she spreads them invitingly. Your hand reaches out to rest on her ass.

Soft. Round. Supple. Just begging to be fucked. Your dick rests comfortably between her cheeks, which are covered by the flimsiest piece of lace you've ever seen. The pair of you groan together in anticipation at the sensation of feeling each other so intimately. The anticipation of what is soon to come.

"You want me to fuck you, huh?" you ask.

Yeji turns her head to look at you, dark strands of black hair hanging before her beautiful, desperate eyes. "Please."

She waits expectantly as you move back just enough to hook your fingers into her underwear and pull them down slowly, revealing the pretty little cunt you had tasted earlier. The desk is ever so slightly too tall for her, and her long legs stretch to rest on her tiptoes.

You run your hand down between Yeji's pert cheeks, delighting in the gasp of relief leaving her mouth as you cup her heat. Your fingers slip through her slick, coating themselves with her natural arousal before one sinks inside effortlessly. You push it deep, drawing a content sigh from her lips as your digit bottoms out.

A second follows shortly after and she clenches hard around the pair of them.

"Your cock," Yeji demands. You curl your fingers inside of her, delighted by how she struggles to speak when you graze her weak spots. "Want it..."

"But this is fun," you state simply, continuing to explore every inch of her, learning which places cause the biggest reactions and relishing in her quiet hums of satisfaction every time you stimulate them. You'd be lying if you said it didn't make your cock pulse with the need to be inside her. That warm wetness wrapped snugly around your fingers would feel downright amazing around you.

Yeji wriggles her body, pressing her ass against you and whimpering as your digits push inside again. "Please... your cock." Your eyes drop from the beauty bent over in front of you and focus instead on the sight of your fingers disappearing repeatedly between those gorgeous legs. How her muscles clench and her toes curl against the carpet with each and every motion of your digits inside her. She looks ready. She feels ready.

"Well, seeing as you're asking so nicely—"

You slip your fingers out. The whine of loss from Yeji barely has time to fade as you grab hold of her ass with both hands, spread it out, line yourself up with her cunt and sink inside without hesitation. Fuck it. Why go slow?

"Oh god," Yeji moans as your hips meet. Her knuckles turn white as she claws at the surface of the desk in an effort to cope with the feeling of fullness that she's clearly experiencing right now. Her eyes widen and she bites hard into the back of her lip as her cunt stretches around you, accommodating you perfectly. She exhales deeply.

It's all worth it—the workplace compromise. This moment right here where your thick cock rests deep inside of Hwang Yeji's warm, wet cunt. Finally. And holy fucking hell—it's everything you could've ever asked for.

"I knew you'd feel so fucking good," you murmur, trailing your hands up Yeji's slender figure, feeling her back tense slightly when she lets out a small moan of agreement. Your fingers tangle into her long hair, wrap it around your fist, give a harsh tug to pull her head backwards, earning a sharp intake of air—and then you start rutting your hips into hers. Long, forceful strokes fill the air with repeated claps of skin slapping against skin.

The choked moans which tumble from Yeji's lips are music to your ears, encouraging you to keep her pinned down against your desk with a strong hand on the small of her back. Your fingertips press into her flawless skin hard enough to bruise, yet neither of you cares—not when there are far more important matters to attend to. Namely, pounding Yeji's brains out and filling her tight little pussy with ropes of hot cum.

So, you pick up your pace, quickening the tempo and making sure each thrust of your hips goes harder than the previous. Her mouth hangs open in a silent scream with each movement of your body against hers. Every slap of your hips against her ass elicits a reaction.

You're already addicted to her. Everything about Yeji makes you want to hold nothing back, and as you pull yourself out only to slam back inside her depths, you can't help but notice the absolute debauchery dripping from her words when she begs: "Harder. Fuck me harder."

And who are you to refuse her request? She looks incredible anyway, but seeing her eyes screw shut in bliss while a strand of saliva escapes past her open mouth? Nothing would convince you to let up now.

The constant clatter of objects rattling and shifting across the surface of your desk adds a nice soundtrack to the experience. So do the increasingly frequent moans spilling freely from Yeji's lips, each one higher-pitched than the last. They spur you on. Give you the incentive to chase after her pleasure.

And then you feel the telltale clamping down of her walls around you. Your cock is held tightly in her warmth, refusing to relinquish its grasp on you until you've filled her with cum. Until you've pumped your load deep inside of her wanting cunt. You know it's coming and you adjust accordingly. Forcing yourself to maintain rhythm as you pound her pussy into submission.

You yank on her hair and tug her upwards, forcing her back to crash against your torso. You bring your other hand to her chest, sliding beneath the fabric of her bra to cup at her tit. Her hands desperately search for but fail to find, purchase on the desk. She's helplessly suspended between your grasp and your cock as she cums. Helpless to do anything except take it. Take what she's given.

An indecent series of shrieks and wails erupts from somewhere deep within her chest as Yeji's body seizes up and convulses violently against yours. It sets you off. You bury yourself hilt-deep inside of her and explode. Your vision goes blurry, your toes curl, your jaw clenches shut and your teeth grind painfully together.

It takes everything within you not to collapse forwards on top of the girl you're filling to the brim, instead relying solely on the strength of your grip to stay upright as your cock jerks erratically inside of her, pulsating again and again, releasing stream after stream of creamy spunk deep into her.

As soon as the world stops spinning and the fog starts clearing from your mind, you're met with the sight of Hwang Yeji trying desperately to regain any semblance of control over her own body as well. She's slumped atop your desk, panting heavily, her body twitching occasionally.

You lean down, peppering a gentle trail of kisses down the side of her neck, stopping briefly at the space just below her ear where you whisper, "You look stunning like this."

It takes Yeji several seconds before she manages a reply. She eventually opens her eyes halfway and gives you an exhausted smile. "Like what?"

"Sweaty. Thoroughly used. Filled to the fucking brim."

Your comment draws a faint giggle from her which ends abruptly the moment you drag yourself backwards, slipping your softening cock out of her cunt along with the rush of semen that spills from her and trickles onto your desk.

"Oh god," Yeji mutters as the mess slips from between her legs. She pushes herself up from her prone position and lifts herself off your table, leaving behind a lovely sticky patch where her crotch had rested. You stumble towards your chair and plop down on it, resting your back against the cool leather whilst admiring Yeji's flushed features.

"I still haven't gotten to ride your cock yet."

"I don't know if I—"

Yeji drops to her knees in front of you and grabs the base of your shaft without a second thought, squeezing it lightly and causing it to stiffen slightly. "Well I do," she declares.

She leans closer.

You catch sight of your reflection in her dark brown eyes just before Yeji extends her tongue, running it carefully over the sensitive skin of your cock before planting a wet kiss against the tip. Then she does it again. And again. The movements become a pattern until, suddenly, you're enveloped by the heat of Yeji's mouth.

"Ah," you gasp as she takes you. So sensitive to the touch of her tongue as it swirls around you. She hums approvingly at your reaction and slides deeper, taking your semi-erect cock further into her mouth as she continues to suck you off. Her head bobs slowly up and down, gradually coaxing you back to life until she slips you out from between her lips with a pop.

"That got you hard fast enough." Yeji grins. She stands up straight, and then your jaw falls open slightly at the sight of Yeji reaching behind her back to unclasp her bra. It falls to the ground in slow motion. Delicate pale skin stretches beautifully over perky breasts topped with cute pink nipples. God damn.

Yeji straddles your lap, trapping your body underneath hers. It doesn't take much to push you inside. To have her slide down the length of your shaft once again. She sits still for a few seconds, grinding her hips subtly against yours whilst biting on her lower lip. "Fuck, this feels good." She rotates her hips in little circles. "Feel that? I'm still full of your cum."

The pace is slower now. You're content to sit back, listen to the sounds of wet, sloppy sex filling the office air, and watch how her beautiful features contort with pleasure when your cock scrapes against a weak spot. There's something incredibly arousing about having such a famous idol sitting in your lap, fucking herself silly on your dick alone. She uses it like a toy to chase after her own pleasure.

One of her hands laces itself into your hair, tugging on it harshly. You retaliate with equal ferocity by sinking your fingers into Yeji's plump ass. It earns you a wonderful hiss of approval which comes accompanied by a tight squeeze around your shaft as her free hand moves down between your bodies and furiously rubs at her clit.

It's not long before you realise that she's close, and judging by her frantic behaviour, you figure she isn't looking to make it last longer.

Yeji whimpers cutely. Her head falls backwards, exposing her perfect neck. An expanse of unblemished, untouched skin that simply demands to be marked. Claimed. Taken.

And so you lean forwards, place your mouth on the soft skin and start sucking on it, nipping at the supple flesh. You feel her tighten around you instantly.

"Oh god!" She cries out. Yeji tries to bounce in your lap but fails miserably. She's no longer in control of her body. All she can do is quiver, cry out, and gasp in ecstasy as another orgasm surges through her. It's nowhere near as powerful as the previous two. Instead, it's drawn out. Lasting longer and keeping her moaning throughout.

When it's over and done with, you release your hold on her neck. In return, her exhausted head comes to rest against your shoulder. Her hot pants hit your cheek as she lay there limply against your frame.

"Too much?" you tease and Yeji scoffs. You give her a gentle spank and ask, "That's all you've got?"

"Just catching my breath."

She puts action to word immediately and picks herself back up. There's a determination etched all over her face as she brings both arms to rest on your shoulders, locking you in place and supporting herself on top of you. The expression she wears leaves little room for misinterpretation; this one is yours.

Yeji begins riding you again. Slowly at first, letting herself grow accustomed to the sensation of being filled again. Then faster. Harder. Using your cock to fuck herself on. Taking charge once more. You happily allow her to have it. Glad to let the beautiful starlet do whatever the fuck she wants with your body. Relishing the fact that you're balls-deep inside of her and she loves every inch of you.

"I need it," Yeji whines, slamming herself down on top of you again and again, her soft ass smacking against your thighs repeatedly. Her hair billows wildly around her, sticking to her sweaty skin, flying every which way without rhyme or reason, driven mad by her insatiable desire to keep on going. She keeps saying things under her breath, nonsensical at best, unintelligible at worst.

But her efforts get results. As much as you want to prolong the moment forever, your body can only handle so much. Pleasure courses through your veins like electricity, setting alight every nerve ending within your body until finally, you feel that familiar heat rise from somewhere deep within.

Yeji must sense it because she suddenly kicks it up yet another notch, crying out incoherently as she drops down on your shaft once more, twice more—a third time sends you toppling over the edge. You grip her hips tight, digging your fingertips deep into her flesh as your cock pulses powerfully inside of her cunt, painting her walls white.

She drags it out. Uses gravity to force you as deep inside as possible, allowing every single drop to spill inside of her again. Your eyes roll into the back of your skull as you grunt loudly. Any coherent thought becomes impossible as you cum.

Once more, it takes several moments before you come back down from the clouds. When reality sets in again, Yeji is still straddled atop your lap, watching you with an amused grin stretching from ear to ear. You're left with nothing else to do except admire how her flushed cheeks accentuate her gorgeous features even further.

"I know. I know," she says while stroking your cheek. "I'm amazing."

"You're trouble," you correct breathlessly.

She rolls her eyes at your choice of words and then glances downwards. You follow her gaze just in time to see her raise herself off your spent member, allowing several thick strands of cum to dribble from her cunt and onto your leg. You both share a brief laugh at how filthy it looks before Yeji clambers off you and steps away, leaving you completely bare whilst she reaches down to retrieve her panties.

"No," you blurt out immediately. Your interjection catches her attention and she halts mid-motion, quirking an eyebrow curiously.

"No?"

"You can leave them."

She gives you a knowing look but acquiesces anyway, stepping aside and grabbing her dress instead. "Disgusting," she winks with a coy smirk.

[pathologicalreid]

christmas (baby please come home) | s.r.

in which Spencer isn't home to put his kids to bed on Christmas Eve, but they wake up to a surprise on Christmas morning

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: spencer's first post prison christmas, frankensteined the plot of "surface tension", the same family as "here with me", crying, christmas word count: 3.19k a/n: merry christmas!! this is kinda like my gift to you, mostly since it's been sitting in my brain for forever!!!!!!! i love u all! also happy first day of hanukkah if you celebrate <33

“But Daddy’s not home,” your daughter whimpered as she shuffled under her covers, she looked up at you with wide, curious eyes.

You carefully smoothed out the top of her floral comforter, “I know, baby,” you whispered, reaching up to pinch her cheek affectionately. You’d let them stay up late to watch the Santa tracker, but eventually, Finn fell asleep on you, and Livvy’s yawns were enough to convince you that it was bedtime. “You still have to go to sleep. Santa will come whether Daddy’s home or not, and we’ll just do the gifts from Mommy and Daddy when he gets back.”

At three years old, Olivia was beginning to understand Spencer being gone the same way Eleanor did; she knew his absence was entirely out of her control, and that didn’t sit well with your middle child. You knew you had gotten incredibly lucky when Spencer had been home for Finn’s birthday and Livvy’s had fallen during his sabbatical, but you also knew that you were due for a missed holiday, you just wished it could’ve been Thanksgiving or New Year’s.

You kissed her forehead before leaving, making sure to leave the door open a crack so the monsters wouldn’t get her before you went to Nell’s room. “Hey, honey,” you whispered, closing your eldest’s door behind you before going to sit on the edge of her bed. She had her own Christmas tree set up in the corner of the room, the artificial purple tree providing the glow that her nightlight normally would. “Are you ready for bed?”

Nell was lying on top of her covers, staring at her still ceiling fan as she ignored your question. While Livvy was just starting to understand what it meant when Spencer was gone, Nell understood it best, and she had for years now. She’d understood when Spencer was in prison, and she understood that he was missing Christmas now.

Slowly, you laid down next to your daughter, propping your head up on the bed and smoothing her hair back. “It’s still Christmas,” you tried to reassure her, but part of you knew that it was a thankless effort, there was nothing you could tell her that would fix her father’s absence. “We can call Dad in the morning while we open presents,” you offered, hoping she’d appreciate you coming halfway. “If he’s not busy, maybe we can video chat, and you can show him everything Santa brought you.”

“It’s not the same,” she told you, furrowing her brows and turning away from you on the bed.

Sighing, you pressed a kiss to the back of her head, “I know, Nellie. I know it’s not fair that he doesn’t get to be here for Christmas, but Daddy will come back.” There was a sense of urgency in your voice; you were afraid that if your five-year-old lost the joy in Christmas, you’d somehow failed her as a mother. “He’ll be home for your birthday, I promise,” you whispered.

“You can’t promise,” she reminded you, knowing that you and Spencer were generally very specific about your promises, leaning toward the ‘I promise I’ll try’ variety.

You hummed in response, “I’d pinky promise you that. Dad will be home for your birthday.” You held up your pinky finger, waiting for her to roll over and reciprocate.

Eleanor rolled over, holding up her pinky finger while brown eyes watched you apprehensively, “Okay,” she breathed, hooking your fingers together and kissing them.

As soon as Spencer told you about the bureau’s contingency to him returning to the BAU, you’d done the math. Eleanor’s sixth birthday would fall near the beginning of his next sabbatical, so you didn’t hesitate to make this promise. “It’s time for bed, my girl,” you whispered, smiling at her softly as she pulled the sleeves of her Christmas pajamas over her hands. “Santa can’t come if you’re not asleep,” you reminded her, sitting up on the bed and getting up, tucking her purple comforter under her chin before you made your final stop of the night.

You’d brought Finn to his room before getting the girls settled, but now that you knew they were alright, you came back to his room. The white noise machine was going, and he was fast asleep in his crib. His pacifier, which you were trying to wean him off of, had fallen from his mouth and onto the sheets, so you set it to the side. To you, the second Christmas was always more exciting than the first, now that he was fourteen months old, he had the dexterity to help open presents.

Ruffling his hair, you kissed him goodnight, just like you’d done with the girls, and you left his room, closing the door so that no one would disturb the light-sleeping baby.

There was a late night ahead of you, but first, you settled yourself onto the couch in the living room and pulled out your phone. Upon opening your messages with Spencer, you couldn’t help but be disappointed to find that there was nothing unread. You thought about sending him a text telling him that you all miss him but eventually decided against it. You didn’t want to make him feel guilty. At least, no more guilty than he likely already did.

You turned on the TV, quietly playing a Christmas movie as you began the festivities. All of the gifts had been expertly hidden in the master bedroom, split between being shoved under your bed and in your closet, but a new playhouse for the girls had been dropped off earlier. It was too big for your room, so your parents had stored it in their basement in the interim.

That would be a struggle to bring in from the garage, so you decided to start small, pulling all of the kids’ stockings from their hooks and laying them out on the floor before going upstairs to get the stuffers.

With the movie playing, you filled the stockings with treats and little toys. A few times you imagined your phone buzzing, but each time there was nothing on the screen. The loneliness started to set in as you rehung the stockings, making sure the kids’ names faced forward above the fireplace.

This wasn’t your first Christmas alone, Spencer had been in Idaho for Olivia’s first Christmas, but neither of the girls remembered it.

They’d remember this one, you thought to yourself, walking back up the stairs to grab a load of boxes. Thankfully, they were already wrapped, but you did have to avoid getting ribbon in your mouth as you carried the armful of gifts down the stairs.

Masterfully, you adjusted them beneath the tree, trying to visualize where they’d all end up in the end as you heard something distantly, but you brushed it off as someone leaving your neighbor’s holiday party. You stood up, wiping your hands on your pajamas as you evaluated your handiwork, shrugging before you turned around for the next load, “Oh,” you breathed, watching the handle on the door from the garage turn.

The door opened slowly, revealing your husband on the other side, his black peacoat draped over his arm and purple scarf looped around his neck. He hooked his car keys on the key hook before he noticed you, brown eyes finding your pajama-clad figure. His lopsided smile was all-knowing as always, he knew he had surprised you. In fact, it had been his goal.

You remained exactly where you were, watching him from the den as he put his shoes away and hung up his outerwear. It was almost as if you’d convinced yourself he was a mirage, and any sudden movements would cause his visage to dissipate. “Hey,” Spencer said, cocking his head at you as if he were confused why you hadn’t come any closer to him. He peeked around you to look at the tree, “Did the kids get to bed okay?”

Instead of answering him, your body naturally responded to what seemed like the miraculous appearance of your husband by producing tears. At first, they just welled along your lash line, but as they started to fall, you buried your face in your hands.

Spencer was there, not only in the house but also taking the initiative to approach you, he wrapped his arms around your torso, taking your tearful form under his care, “Is everything alright?” He asked, slowly dragging his hand up and down your spine, humming as you reciprocated his embrace and pressed your face into his shirt, drying your eyes and taking in the moment.

“Everything is wonderful,” you responded, your voice muffled by his shirt. He smelled like stale dark roast and the jet, but you were too relieved by his arrival to truly mind.

Tightening his grip briefly, he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, “Right, well. You’re crying, so I had to make sure,” he murmured, swaying gently to the music coming from the film.

You loosed a breath of relief, “I can’t believe you’re here. The kids were miserable at bedtime, Nell wouldn’t even talk to me until I told her you’ll be home for her birthday,” you informed him, keeping your arms wrapped firmly around him while you tipped your head back to see him.

Spencer nodded in understanding, reaching up a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, “We made the arrest at eight and wrapped up around nine. Somehow, Emily convinced the pilot to leave in the middle of the night, and we were on the jet by ten. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve spent holidays in worse places, but I’d rather be here with you than in Milwaukee.”

“I will kiss Emily Prentiss on the mouth,” you told him candidly.

He raised his brows curiously, “Mhm, and what about me?”

Grinning, you pushed up on your tiptoes and pressed your lips to his, an amalgamation of a welcome home and a Merry Christmas kiss, but you pulled away before you could get carried away. “Merry Christmas, Spencer Reid, we have work to do,” you told him, taking on a mock seriousness as you nodded your head toward the Christmas tree, which only had a fraction of your kids’ gifts beneath it.

“Merry Christmas, darling,” Spencer reciprocated, pressing one more kiss to your lips, “Let’s get started.”

Spinning out of his grip, you found you had much more pep in your step with his arrival, beaming as the two of you went through the house as quietly as possible, gathering the gifts for the kids without rousing any suspicion. Even grabbing the playhouse from the garage didn’t seem like as much of a task with him around.

You adjusted the stockings as it neared two in the morning, Spencer returned from upstairs with the last few gifts, having changed his clothes into pajamas that neatly matched yours—a family set that was a gift from your Penelope. “They look great,” Spencer assured you, pushing his glasses up on his nose as he stood back, admiring your handiwork.

Walking backward until your back was against your chest, you tilted your head to the side, appraising the mountain of gifts beneath the tree, “Do you think we went overboard this year?” Between the gifts from Santa and the gifts from the two of you, the heap was rather intimidating.

“No,” Spencer answered, “bigger kids, bigger gifts.” He put his arms around your waist, resting his chin on top of your head, “besides, they’re good kids.”

You hummed in response, leaning into him ever so slightly. Part of you felt like Spencer was still experiencing guilt surrounding the three months he spent away from you and the kids while he was in prison. No amount of time at home or therapy would ever absolve him of that guilt, but it never hurt to try, “Hey,” you whispered up to him, “I got you something.”

He frowned down at you, “I thought we said no gifts this year?”

Scoffing, you walked over to the home office, “We say that every year and neither of us ever stick to it, so go get whatever it is you got for me.”

Spencer rolled his eyes, but even so, he made his way upstairs to where you knew a gift was hiding in his bedside table. Upon his return, he faltered at the large box you’d placed on the coffee table and held up the small box in his hands; you beamed at him as he eyed the behemoth of a present.

He handed you the smaller box, instinctively, you admired the wrapping before starting to open it, recognizing the jewelry box before you had even discarded your wrapping paper. “Oh, Spence,” you said, looking at the necklace in the box, a dainty chain with five small gemstones on it. His birthstone and yours, followed by Nell’s amethyst, Livvy’s sapphire, and Finn’s tourmaline all strung next to each other, “it’s perfect,” you told him, lightly touching the gems with your fingertips. You’d mentioned wishing you had an everyday necklace a few weeks ago while getting ready, and he must’ve been listening more attentively than you’d thought.

Finally, you had him open his gift, and he was entirely speechless as he opened the cardboard flaps. His mouth gaped as he lifted one of the books in his hand, the title and edition identical to one that had been previously ruined in your house. “Fuck,” he cursed, looking from you to the books and back again.

You shrugged, “It’s not all of them, but a pretty good amount of them. Some of those editions are proving difficult to recover, but I’ve—” You’re cut off, startled by Spencer pressing his lips to yours. “I’m still looking for some,” you said breathlessly once he pulled away.

Spencer seemed unsure of what to do with himself; you’d managed to find replacements for three-fourths of the books that had previously been burned by an accidental fire set earlier this year. The only time your marriage had ever been on the rocks was when Diana lived with you, but even then, you’d been planning this surprise. “You are…” Spencer started, uncharacteristically at a loss for words, “This is incredible,” he told you, shaking his head in disbelief, setting the book down in the box and nearly tackling you in a hug.

Laughing, you buried your face in his shoulder to muffle the sound, “I love you,” you murmured to him, his body now next to yours on the couch.

“I love you too,” he said, looking at you with glassy eyes. “Wow,” he said, sniffling, “I need to get you something else. A necklace isn’t enough,” he told you, likely already thinking of options for addendums.

You shook your head, “Trust me when I tell you that your being here is worth all of the rare books in the world to me,” you reassured him, running your fingers through his hair. Humming, you adjusted your head on the pillow, “Are you gonna fall asleep like this?”

He nodded, “If you keep playing with my hair like that. How long do you think we have until they wake up?” He asked, keeping his eyes closed while you peeked over him to check the time.

Last year, Finn had woken up the whole house on Christmas Day at four in the morning, and seeing as it was nearing three, you wondered if it was worth sleeping at all. You continued combing through Spencer’s hair, “Do you want to go upstairs?”

“This is a really great couch,” he mumbled, already falling asleep on the couch, leading you to grab the blanket that was thrown over the back and haphazardly drape it over the two of you.

Unfortunately, it felt like you’d gotten no sleep at all when you heard the first stirring upstairs, “Mommy,” Olivia called out, which would likely wake up Finn and Nell.

You got up from the couch, waking up Spencer in the process. Your poor husband, who was probably already running on little sleep, got up and folded the blanket you had been using, returning it to its home while you went upstairs to get the kids.

Livvy’s eyes went wide when she saw you come from downstairs, “Did Santa come?” She asked you, nearly bouncing with excitement.

As you expected, the door to Eleanor’s room swung open, revealing your sleep-deprived five-year-old in her rumpled pajamas, “Yes, Santa brought gifts for everyone,” you answered, ruffling her hair before going into Finn’s room, hoping to wake him gently before the voices did a less delicate job. “Hi buddy,” you whispered, looking back to see the girls gathered at the door, completely unaware that their dad was waiting for them downstairs. “Merry Christmas,” you said softly, his scrunched face not processing what you were saying, but happy to see you, nonetheless.

You picked him up from the crib and herded the girls to the stairs, letting them lead the way down while you carried the baby. Right behind them, you watched the realization dawn on their faces as soon as they caught sight of Spencer, “Daddy!” Nell shouted, leading her little sister as they ran to him.

Laughing lightly, you let a squirming Finn down, running to Spencer in the same way the girls just had. From a distance, you watched as all three of your kids entirely bypassed the gifts under the tree and on the mantle and went straight to what was more important—their father was home for Christmas.

Spencer crouched down to get Finn, and at the same time, Livvy jumped in excitement, leaving Spencer falling backward and sitting on the ground while the kids formed a less-than-graceful dog pile on the floor. You took that as your cue to join in on the festivities, kneeling on the floor next to the familial pile, uncontrollable giggles emanated from everyone involved.

You wrangled the two littles in your arms, giving each of them dozens of kisses and receiving more laughter in return as Eleanor settled down. Your eldest took her moment of alone time and laid her head on Spencer’s chest, the grin on her face overtook the rest of her face, “Best Christmas ever,” she whispered before rolling off of him, Spencer instinctively lifting his hand so she doesn’t hit her head on the leg of the coffee table.

Nellie sat up giving you a toothy grin, sticking her tongue through where she was missing a front tooth. Everyone took notice of Olivia pointing at the tree, her mouth shaped like an “o” in awe, “Can we open that one?” She asked, pointing to the largest present in the stack—which, of course, had her name on it.

“Stockings first,” Spencer said, leading to a pout from your middle child, but it was quickly wiped away when he kissed the crown of her head. Your husband got up first, taking Finn from where he was tucked into your side, and set him on his hip, “Okay, who wants their stocking?”

Everyone’s hand went up—including yours.

[luludeluluramblings]

The Tape

Reader and Conner’s sex tape gets leaked…

Based on this…

Warning: Fem!Reader, NSFW themes, no actual smut, pure crack nonsense, fake Twitter post

A/N: @fanfictionlover277353 Heard you wanted some more! Here’s some of my nonsense!

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

"Come on, Babs. Please. I'm begging. Just for a few hours. Two tops." Dick's whining could be heard through out the entire cave. The vibrato of his voice echoing off the rocky walls and stalagmites as he leaned over Barbara's shoulder and played with her hair.

She was currently sitting at the Bat Computer, looking over anything related to the family or incidents in Gotham with strained eyes and an exasperated look on her face.

"I told you, I'm busy-"

"You need a break." Dick interrupted, playing the hypocrite with a grin. "Come on, two hours. We'll watch a movie, you can even pick. No sappy Rom-coms, anything you want. All your choice." He wiggled his eyebrows at her.

Admittedly, Barbara was tempted, but she let out an indulgent sigh.

"Fine. I'll set up notifications to alert me if anything that needs to get scrub gets posted." She quickly type out a few things on to the computer, having it connected to her phone before Dick whisked her off with way too much excitement.

It was a simple notification system. One that would alert her if anyone's vigilantes identities were mentioned in the media. Unfortunately, it wasn't set up to alert her if anyone's civilian identities were mentioned. That included the family's only civilian member as well.

And, a lot can happen in two hours with the power of the internet and a very interesting topic.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

You were having a good day. A very nice day. You had gone out into the world, enjoying the sights and sounds of a mid-morning Gotham. Ignoring the wailing sirens in the distance, by now you had grown used to it.

Dick, Babs, and Alfred where in the manor doing either Bat stuff or sleeping. Damian was visiting Jon. Duke was on patrol. Cass was at dance practice. Bruce was at the Watchtower. Tim was at the Wayne office. Stephanie was your chaperone (stalker) of the day. And, Jason was fuck who knows where.

A peaceful, calm day.

Until you got a Twitter notification and you realized...

"Oh, that's not good. That is really not good." You mutter, watching as the internet burns while you drink your coffee. Not like you could do much else. You still sent a quick text to Conner, just to prepare him while you mentally packed.

You warned him when he suggested filming the two of you making love in the Wayne manor parlor right in front of the fireplace.

You had suggested you’d both go to the mountains and fuck in the wild, but he just had to be kinky and want to do it in the manor. Better lighting he said.

If it wasn’t for the fact that it had been your anniversary and he had pulled out all the stops, you would’ve said no. (It doesn’t matter that he had you literally crying from the pleasure when the two of you had finally finished filming. Nope. Not at all.)

However, that mountain sex might still be on the table. You didn't want to be around when the rest of the family saw that video, so a remote location in the mountains sounded like a decent idea. You’d been wanting to runaway from the manor for a while anyway.

“Hey, Steph, hand me your phone real quick…” Best to probably by yourself some time.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Conner had a tendency to mute his notification on all his socials. Not that he didn't look at what people tagged him in or mentioned him in. He just find it easier to manage.

So when he got a text from you saying to check Twitter, he was a bit puzzled. But, he figured you had seen him tagged in something funny and wanted him to see it too.

Only for the record in his head to scratch when he realized what he had been tagged in.

"SHIT! Shit, shit, shit, shit." Could he get off planet fast enough? This was bad. Not the video. That was good. He may have thrown extra fuel on the fire by liking it and retweeting it on to his official account, but, damn it, was he proud of that. Probably shouldn’t have hired that rando to edit it for him though.

But, yeah, he was about to possibly be the only man ever murdered in cold blood by Batman. It was one thing to fuck his civilian daughter, but filming it in the man’s own home? Yeah, the kryptonite was definitely coming out and getting stabbed into his skull.

"JON! Distract Damian!" Conner yelled out before taking off, knowing that Jon's super hearing would pick up it up. Best get to Gotham and grab you before Batman came after his ass.

There was a nice planet a few solar systems over that you two could have some fun on. Maybe if he was lucky, you could visit that spot in front of the fireplace on last time. He doubted the two of you would get another chance to do it there again.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Jason had actually been at Roy’s that day, having finished some Outlaw business from the night before. Only to be interrupted when Roy suddenly choked on his drink and sprayed it all over him from across the table. Soaking Jason and the papers on said table.

“What the fuck?” He muttered in disgust whipping the dripping liquid off him.

Roy, however, was still choking. Wheezing as he clutched his phone like it was the most precious thing in existence.

“Nothing! Nothing!” Instantly, Roy was trying to back the video up the Cloud and his back up phone. He’s paid for porn with less quality than this and he was not wasting this opportunity before it was scrubbed from the internet.

“Let me see that.” Jason pushed the table and slammed it into Roy’s gut, causing the phone to clatter on to it. A video silently playing on the screen.

A video of two people in a fancy parlor. Doing very intimate things.

Two people Jason knew. In a fancy parlor that Jason knew.

A parlor that Jason had literally sat in three days ago watching the fire in the exact same fireplace.

“Did you fucking save this, asshole?”

“Dude, that is ART!”

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Back in the BatCave Alfred had come down to tidy up after resting a bit only to look at the screen in horror. Despite his many skills, socially media escaped him at times.

However he did manage to learn one thing…

“That was what was on my bloody carpet?!”

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Tim had been in his office, going over a couple charts when his secretary burst into the room. Stumbling and falling on the floor panting. One of her heels broken.

Normally she was a serious and composed woman, not tolerating any nonsense from him. So this behavior was unexpected and worrisome.

Tim rushed to stand up at help her when she suddenly blurted out, “Leaked sex tape!”

That made him panic. Before confusion hit him.

“Wait, did I film on of those? I don’t remember filming one of those-“

“Your sister! Superboy! PR is going fucking nuts and getting calls. Share prices are fucking increasing because of this!”

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

The Justice League Watchtower was in a meeting. Quite a long one judging by the way most of it’s members sitting around the table seemed to be drifting off or subtly scrolling their phones.

Oliver Queen, Green Arrow was one of those people scrolling. Checking over twitter, catching up on the latest gossip. Only to nearly fucking scream in the middle of the meeting when he realized what Superboy had shared on his official account.

Forget man of steel, the kid has damn balls of steel.

Worst yet, the video had been posted for over an hour. A full hour. Almost two. There was no way that was going to be getting scrubbed and forgotten. He’d bet it was in a military archive already with a team of scientist documenting the half-Kryptonian’s dick size right now.

It was an impressively long video. One that Oliver was sorely tempted to watch. But, he didn’t because he knew Batman would actually rearrange his face if he did. Like fist and plastic surgery rearrange it.

So, when he heard Batman’s voice ring out in the meeting, he broke his phone in half to hide the evidence of his discovery.

Only, Batman hadn’t been calling for his attention. He was calling for Booster Gold’s.

“Booster, focus on the meeting. Put that away—“

It was amusing to see Booster get caught with his phone out watching him scramble to shut it off in a panic. Only for it to fall to the ground.

And, the sound to turn on at full volume.

Moans to fill the silent void of the room.

Oliver could only look on in horror when he realized just what Booster had been watching, during a Justice League meeting, and across the table from Batman himself.

“Conner, please, p-please, stop teasing.”

“No, I don’t think I will. You look so pretty like this. All nice and—“

No one moved. Not as they watched Batman literally work through every emotion under that cowl of his and Superman’s face went as white as it possibly could, anguish washing over both their faces when they realized who was in the video booster was watching.

Diana was the only one that stood up and moved to pick up the phone. Everyone held their breaths when she slowly looked down at the screen.

“Quite impressive. You both must be proud.” She said with a slight hum.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: I apologize so much for this, but I just was cackling the entire time I came up with this and wrote it. Forgive me y’all! 🙏🏻

A/N: All the Twitter stuff was randomly generated and picked! I’m not good with it, but I added it for giggles!

[stellewriites]

simon is a he/him lesbian in this fic. he’s a gender nonconforming cis woman & prefers using a masc name and pronouns

huge thank you to woolie, birdy, gougie, báir & three for being so encouraging and helping me with this fic and to kitty for making all of my oc names as always :3

this is a love letter to butches <33

Riley (he/him), 31, female.

Looking for a roommate ASAP. DM for details, don’t fuck me about.

you’d found the post on an online forum asking for a roommate and hadn’t hesitated to reach out immediately when you saw you were in the same city. your current roommate was only a few weeks away from moving in with her boyfriend, which would leave you with an apartment you couldn’t afford on your own.

although the post left everything to the imagination, the options for roommates were slim pickings and the single room apartments on the market were no cheaper, meaning you were getting desperate.

after a brief back and forth online with riley, he explained that his own roommate was moving out which was why he was looking for someone new to fill the spot. the apartment was cheap for the area - not that he told you where it was- and you’d have your own bedroom but you’d share the living room and kitchen, there were two small bathrooms, and storage in the shallow loft since it was the top floor apartment.

standard stuff but it sounded perfect.

riley was a blunt texter, but you assumed he’d maybe had his fill of people messing him about so far and just wanted to get down to business and find a roommate before he was stuck in the same position as you; paying double rent for a place that wasn’t worth it, digging into savings to stay afloat.

after covering whether you smoked (quit last year), had any pets (allergic), or liked frequent house parties (too shy), he offered to meet up to go into more detail about the place and you’d jumped at the chance, naming a cafe you liked to frequent near your work.

you weren’t sure what you’d been expecting when you arrived and found a table near the window - or more accurately, what you’d been picturing riley to look like - but you’d had to school your features into something less flustered when a tall woman in a baggy hoody and a pair of black work out shorts walked in and bee-lined for your corner.

as he walked your eyes glued themselves to his nike shorts as they rose up his thighs, indecently tight, showing off the thick muscle covered in a smattering of soft, unshaven hair, light enough that it glistened in the afternoon light. as he got closer you noticed a smattering of scars leading up his shins to his knees and stretch marks curving around the inside of his thighs.

you felt the urge to reach out and touch when you felt the weight of his own gaze taking you in for the first time.

“riley?” you’d asked hesitantly, when you finally managed to lift your head up to face him, cheeks ablaze. beneath his hood you could see that the scars continued on his face; almost prominently one ran from mid chin through his lips and up his cheek, another, smaller but thicker, ran from his hairline to two inches down his forehead slightly off centre.

you were mesmerised.

“prefer simon,” he’d corrected but nodded, his voice lighter than you’d expected but thickly accented.

he pulled down his hood with a scant look around the cafe to reveal a short cropped haircut, a little shaggy at the top. he took the seat opposite you and you sat up straight when your knees bumped accidentally. you snatched your legs back beneath your chair and clenched your thighs tightly together as the warmth of his bare skin throbbed through your jeans.

christ what was wrong with you? you had the attention of one hot, tall butch and suddenly you were a bag of nerves and fumbling all over the place. get it together.

“oh! yeah ok, cool,” you said and tried to smile normally. “simon.”

“not what you were expecting?” he asked wryly.

“uhm, no,” you admitted with an embarrassed little huff. “not exactly; i don’t really know what i was expecting though to be fair.”

“want to back out? no ‘ard feelings,” simon offered indifferently. guarded.

“no! no, i’m still very interested,” you insisted, biting your cheek when he raised an eyebrow at you in amusement. “i ordered already, uhm. got here a little early after work so i figured why not? i just got you a latte, i should’ve maybe asked.”

you felt wrong footed in front of his confidence. his legs were spread wide beneath the table, feet planted on the outside of yours and suddenly this felt less like a first meeting for a roommate and instead like your ideal first date.

you looked over at the counter and tapped your leg impatiently when you couldn’t see your drinks.

“that’s nice of ya.”

“i wanted to make a good first impression if we’re gonna be roomies,” you joked.

“mm.” he looked you up and down. “you messy?”

“excuse me?”

“i like to keep the place clean. deal breaker if you’re messy, it’s why soap had to move out.”

“soap? i don’t— yeah, i’m clean. tidy. i can keep my shit tidy,” you insisted. a waitress brought your drinks over on a tray and you thanked her quietly.

he smiled. “good, then this should be fine.” his foot tapped yours under the table. “relax. you said you came here after work?”

“yeah, i work nearby. sales calls, nothing interesting,” you shrugged and took a big sip. “pay is shit, but it covers half of the bills. what about you?”

“construction,” he said simply and your eyes drifted without permission to his hands wrapped around his mug then up to his arms hidden beneath his hoody.

“nice,” you choked out, visions of simon in a sweaty tank top throwing back a sledge hammer, not at all helping with the heat on your face and between your legs. “long hours?”

“sometimes,” he conceded. “s’why i asked about parties. don’t need to be coming home from work to an ‘ouse full’a dick’eads.”

you snorted.

“i can promise no house parties. well, maybe one around my birthday but i mean does inviting four people around for pizza really count as a house party?”

simon squinted his eyes playfully. “guess i can allow a little leniency here and there.”

you grinned behind your cup.

“what about your own friends? they swing by often?”

“not if i can help it,” simon huffed, a smile pulling at his scarred lip as you chuffed a surprised laugh. “tend to go to gaz’s or price’s house if his bird in’t home.”

the idea of a bunch of lads around the flat wouldn’t have necessarily been a deal breaker, but it was a relief to know it wasn’t going to be often regardless.

the pair of you stayed long enough to order a second drink while you discussed rent prices, tenancy agreements, and simon showed you photos of the area it was in.

“can show you the place now if you don’t need to head home yet?” he’d offered. “not too far to walk from here. could get an idea of the place and see if it fits.”

you’d nodded eagerly and followed him a couple of blocks away to a cosy, hidden away flat near the centre of town. you were surprised it was as cheap as he’d said given the location, but when the water refused to get hot in the kitchen sink when he went to wash a singular mug you soon caught on.

“boiler goes every other month, but i know how to fix it,” he’d said with a sigh, popping the kettle on instead. “taps, radiators ‘n shower all go cold.”

you winced, but it wasn’t enough to put you off. “landlord refuses to get it sorted?”

“landlord doesn’t answer my texts or calls anymore, think he got pissy w’me after i complained about him doin’ fuck all about the single glazed windows to the council few winters back.” you pursed your lips in order to not laugh but simon saw your expression and shrugged unrepentant. “arsehole needed tellin’, di’nt he?”

“i think this place will be perfect,” you settled on saying. you looked out of the nearest window and noted the working locks; the traffic was loud outside but you’d always preferred the constant buzz to send you off to sleep, the few times you’d been camping you’d not slept a wink in the silence.

he told you about the few other residents and explained the shortcuts you could take to get to work or for the shops and by time simon had finished giving you the tour of the place - a deceptively long space towards the back, hiding its double bathroom and bedrooms - you’d noticed it had gotten dark outside. when he noticed your furtive glance however, simon offered to drive you home without a second thought.

and again, not thirty minutes later when you were about to climb out of his truck with one last deep breath of his cologne, he offered to help you move in next week.

if that works for you, he’d said.

you’d started packing as soon as you got inside.

the only issue with moving in with simon - an issue you’d only noticed after having lived together for 6 months already, an issue your friends had to point out to you - was that the dating pool in manchester suddenly seemed a little drab. a little pathetic.

“i really don’t think si has anything to do with the fact that i can’t find anyone i’m interested in when we go out anymore, i think it makes more sense that all the hot women are just no longer single now,” you’d laughed when your friend had suggested it.

sure you thought simon was insanely hot, and that opinion had only solidified after spending the last half a year with him; seeing him braless more often than not beneath his muscle shirts when he lounged around the flat on his off days, pressing closer than necessary after a shower when you tried to pass by in the hallway, working out in the living room grunting and groaning as he hit his push-up goal, sweating and stretching obscenely as you tried to keep your eyes respectfully locked on your phone or the tv.

you were well aware that simon was sexy but more importantly off limits, so you didn’t let it affect your dating life. or so you thought.

“doesn’t help that you barely come out on a night with us,” emma pouted. “even less now that you hang out with simon most evenings.”

“when was the last time you hooked up with someone? even just kissed someone?” ash asked before you could defend your lack of social life, their eyebrow raised as if to prove their point.

you sighed. it had been a while, and taking care of things by yourself wasn’t really working out too well. simon always seemed to come home just when the frustration peaked enough for you to grab your vibrator, and you knew from the girls he’d taken home in the first few months that the walls were in fact thin enough to hear everything. with gritted teeth and wet panties, you always had to put it back in your drawer and wait for another day for some ‘me time’.

quotas for no nut november were being accidentally exceeded so much so that you were heading into catholic nun absolution. it was almost mid may; you needed to find someone to break you out of your funk sooner than later. get over by getting under or whatever.

“we’re not trying to guilt you into coming out with us,” emma added kindly, wrapping her arm around your shoulders and pulling you close. “we know you don’t always like the crowd and that’s fine. but we just want you to be getting the dick or pussy that you deserve.”

you snorted and rolled your eyes. “what do you suggest then?”

emma shared a look with ash. “well…”

it hadn’t taken much more convincing from your friends to set up an account for you on tinder after that.

you spent some time on your profile, trying to find the right blend of funny but not too snarky, sexy but still approachable. it was a nightmare but the thought of getting your tits kissed and played with by someone else after almost half a year was enough to keep you on track. you just needed to focus and get it done.

——

as you walked back to your flat with ash after grabbing lunch together, you flicked through the options in your area.

“oh, she’s cute!” ash scrolled through the photos before cackling. “she’s funny too, listen, ‘if you google top places to eat out in the city, i’m the number one spot. better make your reservation quick’.”

you laughed. “oh that’s bad, si would find that funny.”

ash sent you a deadpan stare before going back to the profile. “so swiping right?”

you hummed and glanced at the phone again. “i don’t know, i don’t think she’s my type.”

“the last ten profiles ‘haven’t been your type,’ admit you’re just being picky,” ash pointed out.

“i’ve got standards is all,” you huffed. “i’m not just going to say yes to everyone.”

“she was exactly what you normally go for; strong build, blonde and funny in a dumb way according to the bio, aka you catnip,” they said. “hell, i’m surprised she’s not one of your exes.”

“fuck you,” you laughed and elbowed them. “i don’t even have a type, i don’t know why i said that.”

“oh please,” ash guffawed. “i can and will list the many attributes your exes all share if i have to.”

you sent them a scathing look and they held up their hands in defeat, a smug smile ruining their supposedly conceding pose.

“the only outlier was that weird austrian that i told you not to give the time of day to,” they continued. their face crumpled into a look of disgust, nose wrinkled and eyes pained. “could tell as soon as he opened his mouth that he doesn’t wash his dick.”

you pouted and ground your teeth in a grimace, unable to disagree on any count. he was certainly a lapse in judgement, you wouldn’t deny it.

“i’m just not feeling it, ash. i don’t want to waste her time when i don’t see the attraction. it’s not fair on her.” you shrugged and took back your phone to swipe left. “maybe my type has changed.”

ash stayed quiet a moment, looking contemplative as you both continued walking.

“ok you have a point. there’s no need to waste people’s time, but - and hear me out - everyone on there is just treading water trying to figure out who they want to fuck. she might spend a week talking to you and then ghost,” ash explained.

“great, cheers for that,” you chuffed.

“you know what i mean,” they rolled their eyes. “everyone’s figuring out if they want to go on a date or jump in bed with each other on there, you’re not wasting anyone’s time by giving them a chance. let yourself be wooed.”

“‘wooed’, i’m not looking for a mr darcy,” you joked.

“then actually give these people a shot, it’s not like they’re looking for marriage either,” ash countered. “or maybe you’ve got a specific person in mind distracting you that you’re making unfair comparisons to.”

you glared as you entered the apartment building. “i don’t know what you’re talking about,” you sniffed. you opened the app up again and bit your lip before swiping right on the first five profiles that appeared, showing your friend as you did. “there, happy?”

your phone buzzed and you looked down with wide eyes as all five accounts matched you back. the app directed you to the messaging centre and you looked at ash sheepishly.

“don’t you dare unmatch them,” they warned teasingly, pointing their finger at you with squinted eyes as you waited in the elevator. “go on a few dates and be spoiled for once. if nothing else, you get a good meal and some fresh air.”

you laughed as you finally reached your floor. you unlocked the door to your flat and dropped your coat on the back of a dining chair before slumping on the sofa with ash joining a second after sans their boots and coat.

“fine, fine. i’m on here for a reason, right? i might as well give them a chance,” you agreed a little reluctantly.

“give who a chance?” simon asked as he came from the back of the flat, passing through to the kitchen.

“my lovely bestie is finally on tinder,” ash said with a sharp grin aimed at simon. “hoping to find someone to fuck out the last six months of—“

“yeah thanks, ash! feel free to shut the fuck up, i don’t think simon cares about the details of my sex life,” you interrupted, cheeks hot with embarrassment.

“no?” ash asked playing dumb. they pouted and turned back to simon. “my bad.”

you hadn’t noticed simon had grown reserved and quiet at ash’s outburst, too busy trying to save face and distract yourself with thinking of a decent opening message.

“and anyway, i’m just going a few dates first,” you corrected and looked at simon. “so don’t worry about me inviting anyone around to the flat or anything.”

simon nodded tersely before swallowing. “s’fine.” he looked shiftily over to the kitchen before moving to lean over the back of your seat, arms resting behind your head as he peered over your shoulder.

“show me,” he ordered softly. you shivered at the feel of his breath on your neck as he spoke and immediately opened the app again.

you chuffed an unimpressed laugh at the profile that popped up first. “‘want to surprise my boyfriend with a threesome for his birthday, any takers?’ jesus christ, the dating pool is so dire,” you whined.

simon chuckled behind you. “bloke looks like he’d barely be able to handle ya either, look at ‘im. he’d ruin his pants before you even took ya bra off.”

“at least i’d be able to concentrate on the girlfriend then,” you snickered along with him.

“nah, best you’d get from her is a bit o’ tongue for show,” simon said. “can tell by the profile ‘er heart’s not in it.”

you swiped left and simon was immediately ready to point out the failings of this profile too, and then again when you swiped left after laughing along, and again after that.

the way he leant over you blocked your friend from your view, but simon could see the knowing look ash was giving him directly in his peripheral, but he chose to ignore it. especially when he lowered one hand into your lap to start swiping left himself.

you let your free hand rise to play with simon’s long shirt sleeve before you suddenly took in his attire and frowned.

“why are you dressed for work?” you turned to sit on your knees facing the back of the sofa as he rose up to his full height to see him wearing his work trousers and steel-toe boots, his hi-vis vest tucked into his waistband.

“john rang, asked me to cover soap’s shift when he went home sick after lunch. i’ll be back from the lot later; might be late in the evening if i have to go grab a few things for ‘im from b&q before it closes for tomorrow,” he said, contrite.

you pouted heavy and exaggerated. “movie night’s cancelled? fuck you, john price.”

simon snorted, his scarred lip lifting at one side in obvious mirth. “i’ll tell ‘im y’said that, shall i?”

“fine with me, i’m not afraid of him,” you goaded.

“he’s ex military you know,” simon winced jokingly.

you rolled your eyes. “no duh. so are you.”

he hummed a low single note.

“and you wouldn’t let him touch a hair on my head, right si?” you continued shamelessly.

“i’d tell him there’s no point wasting time trying to teach you manners. any time i try to knock some sense into ya noggin it just echoes,” he huffed, holding back a smile as he tapped his knuckles on your crown for emphasis.

you swiped at his fist with a hiss.

“you can piss off to your job already then if you’re going to take the mick,” you laughed. you kept your hands to yourself otherwise, knowing better than to try and push him away after one too many failed attempts. his stomach was always firm enough to keep your best efforts from moving him, but topped with a thick and soft enough layer that it gave way beneath your prodding fingers and roaming palm.

“i’ll make it up t’ya. another night,” he promised lowly, bending down close again to whisper. as your pout lessened he nodded before heading out.

“wooow,” ash exaggerated and lengthened the word sarcastically as they sat watching you slump back to sit normally now that simon was gone. “it’s somehow worse than i thought.”

“hm?”

“does he always fold like a cheap suit when you flash the puppy dog eyes at him?” ash laughed.

“you’re seeing things, he literally just cancelled on me,” you argued and turned to the tv to channel surf. “are you staying for tea? think i’ve got the stuff in for a curry, could pirate that new horror with kyle gallner.”

ash rubbed at their chin. “don’t think i didn’t notice the subject change… but i’m listening.”

——

you got your movie night with si a few days later with the pair of you lounged on the couch, simon’s heavy, long legs draped across your lap as you waited for the take out you’d ordered to arrive.

your phone buzzed with a notification and simon perked up. “food here?”

you took a moment to respond, looking at your phone and tapping away for a second before shaking your head. “no, just a message.”

you phone buzzed again just before you could put it back down and you unlocked it again with a growing smile.

“oh, ‘s emma asking about dog sittin’ again?” he guessed.

“it’s not emma,” you said easily, without further detail, distracted by your phone.

before simon could ask, a knock at the door had him swinging his legs down and heading to grab the bag of food. he grabbed some cutlery from the kitchen on the way back before slumping heavily down next to you, spreading his thighs wide enough to press against yours.

he frowned when he saw you were still engrossed in your phone, a little secretive smile pulling at your lips. at the smell of the food you looked up and your eyes brightened, you put your phone back on the table and ignored it when it buzzed, helping simon instead, sitting back when you had your share and pressing play on your movie. when the phone buzzed twice more in quick succession you bit your lip and glanced at it.

“answer it,” simon said bitingly, having figured out who’d be messaging you by that point. the stupid, bloody app. “but tell ‘em you’re busy with a woman already.”

your eyes widened and you coughed out a surprised laugh. “si.”

“tell ‘em you’re not hanging out with ‘em next week either, you can’t make it. you’re busy with me instead,” he continued, the weight of his hooded gaze heavy and stifling.

“but i’m not busy, we don’t have plans next week,” you said weakly, confused.

simon huffed heavily through his nose. you’d almost think it was bordering on angry but for the entire time you’d known him, simon had never gotten angry at you, even when you accidentally shrunk his brand new sports bra on a too-hot wash.

you both tensed when your phone buzzed again.

“let me turn off my notifications,” you said and reached for the phone furtively. you skimmed your notifications and felt something bloom in your chest at the mention of a date from one of your matches, but you didn’t mention it to simon. “there we go, now we can focus on movie night,” you said with a grin, scooping another forkful of sweet & sour chicken into your mouth.

simon’s shoulders dropped and he nodded. he looked to your half empty glass and stood up. “want me to grab you another drink?”

you smiled, mouth closed and cheeks full of rice, and nodded as he chuckled. he turned away before the urge to poke your puffy cheeks won out and you accidentally spat rice out on the rug.

——

>> any new matches? 👀👀👀

you pursed your lips as you read the text from emma.

<< a few. might have a date next week

<< depends if she plays her cards right

>> lol is it the librarian or the electrician?

<< electrician. might give me mates rates if i ask her to check out the faulty leccy wiring in the flat :p

>> more like dates rates ;)

>> she was cute 😍 where’s the date?

<< she mentioned getting dinner, a new place that just opened up that she said was meant to be cool

>> the thai place? omgggg i’ve been meaning to go! give me ur review after pls and ty

>> and i mean the food, but any dirty deets are welcome too 👀👀

<< ???

<< i haven’t agreed to go yet

>> 🙄 girl…

>> what happened to giving them a chance, ash said you were on board

<< idk si was acting really weird the other day

<< he got really moody about it all, practically told me to fob it all off and just hang out with him instead

<< i think he’s worried

you had been watching a few murder documentaries lately, and one too many of them had started off as innocent dates or first meet ups that ended in tragedy.

>> i think he’s jealous

you stared at the text as your stomach flipped.

<< ???

>> he’s literallyyyy had a huge crush on u since forever

>> this is not news 😐

you scoffed but felt your stomach clench and hesitated to text back.

>> don’t believe me? just watch how he acts around you over the next few days and see if he does any of these repeatedly

emma sent a screenshot from a website listing ‘things she does if she likes you’ and you snorted. it felt trivial, like you were a teenager again, but you decided to play along.

<< fine. but he won’t.

you sent your quick affirmative back before putting your phone down and finishing your break.

the idea of simon liking you was an impossible one in your mind. simon had brought home women from the moment you’d moved in, it had never been a deterrent and he’d always said you were welcome to do the same as long as they didn’t stick around when he had a day off.

recently though, you thought, there’d been less and less women traipsing out of si’s room giggling and flushed, staring adoringly up at the tall butch woman. sadly, you knew exactly how good simon was in bed from the enthusiastic sounds of his previous partners over the months, so you couldn’t blame them for tripping over their feet as they were ushered towards the exit, an eager ‘call me, yeah?’ breathed out just before the door was closed forever.

that was another reason you’d never made a move. even if sometimes there had been moments where you had thought simon’s gaze lingered too long or his touch couldn’t be excused as just friendly; you couldn’t take being a one night stand. not with him, and not when you’d have to move out when your feelings inevitably bubbled over.

you bit your lip as you cooked that evening. simon was chopping the veg for your bolognese as you were left to watch over the pasta - last time you’d burnt it when you’d turned away and gotten distracted and you refused to let simon hold that over you for any longer.

“you know i can go stay at ash’s or with emma and her partner for a day or two if you want,” you offered out of the blue.

simon stopped cutting and looked at you.

“why the fuck would i want tha’?”

you swallowed. “i just noticed you haven’t had many people ‘round recently and thought maybe it was because i was home,” you said, barely meeting his eyes. “so i can make myself sparse for a few days, it’s no bother. i don’t mind.”

“i had johnny over just the other day,” simon said as though you might have forgotten. the boisterous scot had managed to fondly wiggle his way into gaining your friendship the few times he’d popped by for simon. “and gaz and the lads are all coming by next week. y’dont need t’ leave.” he went back to chopping though much more forcefully now, the chopping board dully thumping with each downward cut he made through the courgette.

“yeah… but what about other visitors?” you hedged. “the walls are thin, si, so i thought maybe you’d want the place to yourself again temporarily so you can—“

“no. i don’t want the place to m’self. i like havin’ you here, like hearing you move around in the night and in the mornings,” he interrupted without looking up. “you stay.” he paused for a moment, doubting himself even as you nodded along. “unless you want to go?”

“god no! no, i just thought i should offer,” you laughed a little awkwardly.

he frowned deeper.

“do you want me to go?”

you paused, you mouth flapping like a fish. this was an option you’d not considered. you noticed simon’s eyes grow more and more desperate, his grip on the veg in front of him tightening as he waited for your response.

“no. never, si,” you said.

he watched you a moment more before nodding. “good. wouldn’t have anyway.”

you snorted a laugh and looked back to the spaghetti, hissing when you saw it had stuck to the bottom of the pan. “shit.”

“…tell me you haven’t managed to burn it a second time.”

——

your conversation with simon reminded you of the article emma had sent you. it took less than a week to notice how differently simon acted with others in comparison to how considerate he was with you.

he made the effort to hold eye contact at the start of your conversations, and if you ever paused too long in your reply his eyes would flicker back up from where they’d drifted to his food or phone to check why. you’d never doubted he was always listening, but seeing it first hand reassured you that he was without fail. and it only highlighted, now that you looked for it, how closely he kept to himself when strangers tried to pick up a conversation with him, how he used as few words as possible on the off chance he did reply.

you wouldn’t hesitate to consider simon tactile, soft-handed and gentle. but you knew that was a privilege. the same with his smiles, spotted in flash of crooked teeth or the slow crinkle of his dark eyes paired with the pull of his scar on the occasion he wore his mask.

at your realisation, you began to check the list religiously each night in the safety of your bed as though trying to convince yourself that you hadn’t noticed the way simon mirrored your own behaviour. how he’d lean opposite you in the small kitchen, tilting his head a second after yours as you complained about work, boiling the kettle for a cuppa after a long day.

you’d pretend not to notice him on the phone twenty minutes later, cancelling going out with his friends, again, so he could stay with you while you relax for the weekend.

you found he’d swapped the brand of peanut butter you usually bought after the last one gave you a tummy ache without mentioning it, he’d asked about your grandad’s birthday even though you’d brought it up offhandedly weeks before, he let you run your hands through his hair near his scar when he napped on the sofa. the list went on.

but you’d already agreed to that date with the electrician.

——

“i don’t know if i’ve come down with something, my stomachs not right. i don’t think think i should go,” you complained as you got ready for your date, your phone propped up on your dresser with ash and emma’s faces on screen as you video called. “i feel queasy.”

“that’s just the nerves, you’ll be ok once you get there,” emma soothed.

“want us to meet you afterwards?” ash asked.

“maybe, yeah,” you hummed. “or maybe call me an hour in just in case it isn’t going well so i can have an excuse to leave?”

“how does ‘your long lost brother just woke from a coma and you’re the only one he remembers’ sound?” ash asked.

“dramatic enough for me to make my escape,” you laughed.

“you won’t need it,” emma reassured. “you’ll be too busy flirting and fawning over her muscles to even answer the phone.”

you laughed harder and the ache in your stomach faded ever so slightly as you pulled on your shoes and got ready to leave. simon was still at work, pulling some extra hours to get the job back on schedule after johnny’s time off, which meant the flat was empty as you left.

you bit your lip and headed to the restaurant, waving shyly from the entrance when you saw jessi, the electrician, already seated and waiting on you.

“hey, been here long?” you asked as you took your seat.

“barely five minutes,” she reassured you with an easy smile. “you look stunning, by the way. worth the wait.”

you thanked her, and took in her styled hair and half unbuttoned dress shirt from across the table. you felt a little underdressed in comparison but hid your insecurity when you smiled at her across the table.

“are you always this shy?” she asked when you stayed silent a beat too long, her grin turning sly and teasing.

you laughed a little self depreciatingly and shrugged. “it’s been a little while since i went on a date,” you admitted, butterflies starting to flutter at her sharp gaze.

“i’ll go easy on you then,” she promised and winked before handing you a menu. “what looks good to you?”

——

you’d thought the date was going fine, good, even. the thought of leaving hadn’t crossed your mind and when emma had called you’d screened it and smiled at the winky face she’d sent a moment later.

jessi was fun to talk to; her humour was maybe a little more forced than what you liked but it wasn’t a deal breaker. you’d thought she was enjoying herself too given the flirtatious comments, the lingering looks and how her ankle kept brushing yours.

but just before you could suggest ordering desserts, she stood and grabbed her coat.

“this has been…” she trailed off. “maybe you’re not ready for dating, you know?”

she’d dropped a few twenty notes on the table and left before you could ask what the fuck that meant.

you called over the waiter, covered the rest of the bill and made your own downtrodden exit soon after, dessert suddenly not seeming so appetising.

“tell me you’re going to her house to stay the night and that this is a safety call,” ash said as soon as they answered.

you huffed a sarcastic laugh. “nope.” you popped the ‘p’ and scuffed your toe along the pavement as you walked.

“fuck, this isn’t a good sign then. no dessert?” you heard emma mumble in the background.

“put me on speaker if you two are still hanging out,” you said and hugged your thin jacket tighter with your free arm as you started heading down the dark street towards your apartment.

“how’d it go?” emma asked a moment later.

“i thought it was going good,” you whined. “she was nice, we were chatting, i was engaging! but she just… left?”

“what were you chatting about?” ash asked.

“just the basics; work, friends, hobbies, roommates,” you listed.

“oh god,” emma groaned on the other end of the line. you heard her voice become muffled as though her face was in a pillow as she grumbled, “you didn’t.”

“what?” you asked with a frown. “it was good, she was being flirty.”

“yeah no shit, it was a date,” ash snorted. “how many times did simon come up?”

“don’t start this again—“

“because you were literally talking about him other day when we walked by a black and white cat just because it had little ‘socks’ and it reminded you to do laundry when you got back.”

“i promised to do simon’s while he’s been picking up extra hours,” you defended yourself. “he literally had to walk around shirtless the other week when i forgot to add them in for him.”

“oh, the grown woman who can and often does do his own washing just had to walk around with just a flimsy little sports bra and boxers on all day? sure, sure.” you could practically hear ash roll their eyes. emma snickered in the background and there was a slight shuffling which was never a good sign. “yep, here it is. and i quote ‘the way he’s built… like a damn chew toy. need to sink my teeth in to him, it’s like my jaw buzzes every time i see him with the urge to clamp down on his bicep.’ those are your texts to our group chat from that same day.”

“the texts i send when im ovulating should never be repeated out loud,” you hissed. “and do we really need more evidence that he’s synonymous with my wet dreams now, i’ve already admitted that i like him.”

“so you know this is a safe space,” ash said facetiously. “answer the question: how many times do you think you managed to bring him up in conversation?”

you chewed your cheek in frustration. ash would know if you lied but thinking back on it you didn’t really want to admit how many times you managed to bring up simon for your own dignity.

“look they had the same boots on, ok? and when she talked about her work it was the only way i could try to relate if i told her how simon had mentioned the same things,” you reasoned.

ash cackled on the other end of the phone and suddenly emma was talking while their laughter grew faded.

“have you looked at that list i sent you?” she asked, her tone oddly low and sobering.

“yeah, i can’t stop thinking about it,” you huffed. you paused to cross the street. “but it feels like i’m just making them up because i like him and he’s just being a normal roommate.”

“you’re not and he’s definitely not,” emma chuffed. “and i think you know that too.”

you were silent as you walked, your steps slow and careful even as the bitter cold wind snapped at your cheeks.

“he likes me?” you asked softly.

“no duh,” ash’s voice rang from the background making you laugh. they got closer and you could picture your friends crammed on emma’s shitty little couch as they spoke to you. “why do you think he’s always walking around flexing his muscles like that, huh? we’re in manchester, i don’t care if it’s almost summer, it’s not bloody warm enough for it!”

“and simon has you as his lock screen,” emma added like a 1-2 punch before you had chance to try and explain any of it away. “he always cancels on his mates to see you instead, and don’t get me started on how touchy he is with you.”

“he’s tactile…” even as you said it you didn’t believe it. though you couldn’t keep count of how many times this week alone si had let a warm hand land on your shoulder, knee, back, wrist, neck; you knew he barely touched anyone else.

"girl. simon?" emma snorted probably thinking the same thing as you.

“he likes me,” you said more confidently into the phone.

“oh thank fuck, she’s finally caught on,” ash said as emma laughed.

“i could literally be swapping spit with him right now and instead i’ve just wasted like two hours on a shitty date, oh my god,” you bemoaned.

you don’t know when you’d stopped walking but in a second you were speeding up to a jog as you said goodbye to your friends and hung up, fumbling to put your phone in you bag. eager to get back home and to see simon.

——

you crammed your key into the front door’s lock when you got home and groaned exaggeratedly when it didn’t turn. simon must’ve left his key in the door, again. of all the bloody times.

you knocked hurriedly, loudly, impatiently.

“siiiimon, open the door, come on i’m cold out here, you wouldn’t leave me shivering and lonely just because you forgot to put your key on the keyhook i specifically bought for—“ you cut off your joking whine when the most stunningly beautiful woman you’d ever seen opened the door to you, a knowing smile on her plush lips.

“oh,” you croaked. almost reflexively, your throat closed up and your eyes started to sting. “i must have the wrong flat.”

“what? no, you’re—” her smile dropped slightly and her dark eyes grew curious, but you didn’t stick around long enough to see.

“sorry, my fault! i’m meant to be on the floor above,” you rushed out and pretended to laugh. “silly me. sorry again.” tucking tail you turned to the fire exit at the top of the small staircase without waiting for a reply.

you knew the short staircase lead to the roof, simon had shown you one time and there were enough signs pointing it out. on the other side of the door was a small, flat balcony that stuck out of the slanted roof, and had old metal ladders that dropped 3/4 of the way down along the side of the building, in between the detached restaurant next door.

given you were the top flat in this little rinkydink building the woman at your door had probably thought you were an idiot and you couldn’t blame her. you decided to stick it out for ten minutes outside before sneaking back down and heading over to emma’s with your heart in your hands ready to be mended with the power of friendship and alcohol and food.

you sat down on the shitty little balcony and groaned loudly, desperately holding back your tears lest you fell into a despair and ended up accidentally falling asleep out of exhaustion and dramatics up there instead.

you’d finally realised your feelings and it was too late; simon had clearly taken your previous offers on board and moved on. you’d given him a free night while you went on a stupid date, what else was he going to do since you’ve been continually - though not purposely - pushing him aside like he was disposable.

“fuck,” you sighed shakily.

“date that bad you’re thinking of jumping?”

you swore in surprise and span in your spot to see simon leant in the fire exit doorway.

you couldn’t help but huff a weak laugh. “yeah it was,” you said before looking back down to your hands. “sorry, i didn’t know you were busy or i’d have gone to a friend’s instead.”

simon frowned and stood up straight. “stop saying you want to go somewhere else,” he said stiffly, swallowing thickly before taking the few steps to sit next to you. “when i’m here.” he knocked your shoulders together. “gaz said you freaked out at the door?”

you looked up at him in confusion. “gaz? that was ky— she’s called kylie, not kyle isn’t she?” you asked with wide eyes. simon’s accent had hidden her real name and convinced you all his mates were men and you’d never thought to second guess it. “christ, i thought she was— never mind.”

simon tilted his head as a knowing smile grew on his face.

“you thought i’d brought someone round for a shag?”

“well, she’s very fucking gorgeous,” you said defensively, crossing your arms. he leant his weight further into your side.

“mm. haven’t noticed.” at your unimpressed look he shrugged. “got my eye on someone else, ‘aven’t i?”

you nodded but avoided his eyes. seeing an unknown woman answer your door - gaz or not - had knocked your confidence more than you’d have liked to admit.

simon snorted.

“talk t’me, thought i was meant to be the quiet, brooding one.”

you looked across at him for a moment before leaning in to hug him tightly. you let the scent of his aftershave soak in and sighed when his own arms automatically wrapped around you too.

“you’re an amazing friend, si,” you whispered. and with how close you were pressed together, you easily felt how he stiffened at the title. you squeezed him harder in response, garnering yourself some more confidence at the same time, and sucked in a cold breath to speak. “and i think i’m a little bit in love with you.”

you felt a whoosh of air against your neck as the breath left simon’s body; he went loose in your hold and you buried your head deeper into his shoulder.

he tried to catch your eyes, ducking his head as best he could, but you’d thoroughly tucked yourself in against him as you felt a stinging heat spread from your cheeks outwards, your heart kicking its way through your chest and likely thumping noticeably against his own.

with gentle and patient cajoling, he managed to nudge you back up to face him and you offered up a wobbly smile.

“are you serious?” he asked breathlessly.

you nodded. “i’m sorry it took me so long to reali—“

simon coughed out a wet and surprised laugh and pulled you in for a kiss, his scar catching against your dry lips before you were able to slip your tongue out to wet them briefly. his hands were firm as they cupped your round cheeks, not letting you break for a breath until the very last second, determined to take all he could get before it came crashing down on him.

“y’r an idiot, so fuckin into ya. been a nightmare living with you, unable t’touch,” he mumbled against your lips and suddenly it was your turn to laugh into the kiss.

“unable? all you do is touch me,” you giggled, gasping when he took the chance to flick his tongue against yours.

“yeah?”

“yeah,” you huffed. “drives me mad, si.”

“only gonna get worse here on,” he promised. “never taking my hands off ya, off your fat arse and soft tits.”

you sucked in a shaky breath. “fuck.” you’d be dripping like a tap at all times if that was the case and going by simon’s smirk, he knew it.

“i’ve had to deal with your dumb mate fucking teasing me about liking ya for months now too,” he grumbled.

“they’re not dumb.” you leant in to bite his lip meanly. “and i’m sure your friends will be teasing me for what just happened too, never mind me being so blind to be on dating apps while we were practically already together.”

simon groaned. “i fucking hated those apps.”

you kissed him sweetly in apology, a soft peck to the lips then each cheek as he greedily chased your lips.

“they’re gone now. my date was ruined because i could only talk about you the whole time. all i want is you.”

“yeah?” his eyes were darker than you’d ever seen them as he tugged your jacket openand slid a hand under your shirt. his rough fingertips teased at the thin material of your bra and your nipples stood to attention under his ministrations and from the chill of fresh air biting at your tummy, bared when his arm rumpled your shirt. “want me right now?”

“always,” you panted. “but…”

you furtively glanced to the door.

“no one comes up here. i can be quick.”

“your friends are waiting,” you reminded him.

“fuck my friends,” he scoffed and tweaked at a nipple, grinning at the squeak you let out.

“would rather fuck you,” you joked weakly even as he pulled his hand back to pluck at your jean’s button and zipper.

“then what are we waiting for?” he asked.

you moaned and gasped when he slipped his hand down the front gusset of your jeans and into your panties before you gained the cognisance to pull it back out with a groan. “later, later,” you promised. “wanna get you naked.”

simon stared at you for a second and you worried he was annoyed at you for putting your foot down. he nodded however, licked his lips as he glanced back to the door and then dipped down to kiss you lightly.

“i’m kicking the lads out then, gimme five.” he stood and took few broad strides to get back to the stairs inside.

you laughed and called after him as he darted back down, taking two at a time as you followed with a grin, struggling with your jeans. “si, don’t be daft.”

“smartest move i’ve made in a long time.” he said as he walked back in to your flat. “everyone out. want some time wiv my girl.”

“ayy congrats!” soap called from the couch.

“that means now, soap.”

“don’t hafta tell us twice,” the scot stood with a slap to his knees and saluted simon on his way out. “ye coming, ky?”

“it was nice meeting ya,” gaz said as she wandered past, winking. you hid your hot cheeks in your shoulders but couldn’t help the flustered grin that spread as simon barely waited for the door to be closed before shedding his shirt, leaving him in a sports bra and his baggy trackies.

“get comfy. not letting ya leave til i’ve had m’fill.”

“funny you think it won’t be me dragging you back for more. let’s see if you can keep up, si. i’ve been told i’m pretty demanding.”

“always loved a challenge.”

you grinned wickedly. “come and get me then.”

updated mood board below (kept working on it after seeing kitty’s absolutely fantastic oc mood board and felt inspired by them!)

[hiiraya]

loml

pairing: natasha romanoff  x reader 

words: ~3.3k

warnings: angst, happy ending (?), literally just self-indulgent writing, messy writing, listen to loml by taylor swift to get in the sad mood

a/n: merry christmas everyone! the last thing I posted was january of 2022 and it's literally about to be 2025 - I've been in a reminiscing mood lately and this was something I've had in the drafts for months, I figured I should just release it to get it out of my system. your girl has been missing someone bad bro and the urge to tag them in this is insane ♡ anyways, hope they see this lmao

“Have a safe flight and text me when you land, yeah?”

“I will, I will. Get home safe and update me as well, okay?”

You release your cousin from your hold, giving their shoulder a quick squeeze as they pull away. You do a last minute check with them to make sure they hadn’t forgotten anything important - something you were always prone to do when travelling by yourself. The memory of you almost missing your international flight because you had rushed home and back to the airport within record speed, all because you had forgotten your passport of all things. 

“I’ll fly out to see you next time, so you can show me around.” You smile.

“Are you guys serious? I told you to leave early so that this exact thing wouldn’t happen!”

Your eyebrows immediately furrow at the familiar voice, catching one last glance of your cousin as they enter the security screening area, waving to them while you mouth one last ‘text me when you land!’ as they leave your sight, before turning around to find the source of the voice.

No way it’s her, you thought. What’s she doing here?

As you get closer to the arrivals board, your questions are answered. Standing there in all her glory, is the one woman you never thought you’d lay your eyes on again.

“Natasha?”

You see the puzzled look on her face as she registers your voice before she even lays her eyes on you. Watching as the confusion turns to irritation - whether it was towards you or whoever was on the other side of the phone, you couldn’t tell (most likely both) - you watch as a deep sigh she releases as she glances at the board in front of her once again.

“-that’s another 10 hours before you guys even land.” She sighs, exasperation lacing her voice.

“Hey, listen if you need help-”

She holds a finger up to silence you, eyes meeting yours in a piercing glance. “I don’t need help, and especially not from you Y/N L/N.”

At her words, you look down, the sight of your shoes a welcome one as you take a second to recover. Honestly, you thought to yourself, I deserved that. 

“Yes, it’s Y/N- no I did not! I swear I didn’t know that they were here.” You hear her mutter from beside you. Deciding to save the both of you from further embarrassment, you turn your attention elsewhere, wondering what your cousin would say once you eventually tell them about who you ran into immediately after they left.

You lift your head back up when you hear Natasha mumble "you guys pick the day before Christmas of all days to be late for your flight” followed by a quick goodbye before hanging up the phone, watching her scope the airport for her next step. 

You could just leave and pretend this ever happened.

“Come on, Nat, I promise I just want to help.” You find yourself saying instead. “I can take you to your hotel when they get here.”

Well, there's no going back from that now.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Are you seriously asking me that right now?”

You really needed to stop opening your mouth.

“Okay, you know what, I deserve that.” You pause. “Listen, I’m not going to force you to come with me, but the offer is still there if you want it. You’ll get a free ride, plus you can use my apartment to rest and freshen up while you wait.”

 -x-

"I can't believe you talked me into this."

You spare a glance to Natasha, who was currently sitting in your passenger seat.

"You're the one that followed me to the car?"

She rolls her eyes at your confused tone, choosing to ignore what you said and instead checking her phone - most likely waiting for an update from whoever she was speaking to on the phone before. "I can't believe they missed their flight."

"Who's they?"

"Yelena, Maria, Wanda," she answers. "Oh, and Yelena's friend Kate too. I don't think you've met her."

You bit the inside of your cheek, because you already know that you didn't get to meet anyone named Kate while you were still together. You honestly didn't get to meet many of Natasha's friends whenever visited her - it was something you always fought over. It felt like she was ashamed of you, always wanting to keep you hidden, a secret she never planned on sharing with the world.

You refrain from asking any follow up questions - if Natasha wanted you to know more she would tell you.

Instead, you ask: "Did they manage to catch the next flight out?"

She nods. "I'm honestly surprised they did, considering how expensive it probably would've been. But knowing Maria, she probably would've pulled some strings to make it work."

Natasha finally looks up from her phone as you come to a stop, looking at the building you had just parked in front of.

"Where are we?"

"My apartment, I figured we could drop off your bags and you can freshen up before I show you around." You open the door for Natasha before moving to grab her bags from the trunk.

You lead her inside, setting her bags down in the living room before turning around to face Natasha - holding your arms out as you gesture to your living space. It's the first time she's ever stepped foot into this place, having only seen it through a phone screen since you were the one who would fly out to visit her when you were still together.

"I'll grab you some towels so you can freshen up, but make yourself at home." You say, gesturing for her to follow you down a hallway. "The bathroom is the first door to your left, there should be a spare toothbrush under the sink- wait did I give to my cousin? Well, we can grab you one while we're out but everything you need should be here."

You know you're rambling but you don't stop in fear of saying something stupid (which knowing you, is highly likely).

"If you want to take a nap, the guest room is just a little further down the hall on the right - I just changed the sheets so everything should be fresh."

It's not the way you wanted to be showing Natasha around your home for the first time, but you'll take what you can get. It'd be so easy to waltz back to the way things were, before everything fell apart but you didn't have the right to that anymore. You weren't a part of her life anymore.

You didn't know if she already had someone new in her life, maybe you were overstepping in so many ways and that it was best to just keep your distance. After all, you did promise that you just wanted to help. You were here to keep her company until the girls arrived and take her to the hotel when they finally did get here.

You know it's for the better to just move on, that after today she'll be gone and it'll be like she never made a reappearance in your life. But how could you when you know deep down that you still haven't fully moved on and that she'll always hold your heart in her hands?

Natasha's voice cuts off your reverie, bringing you back to the present as you hand her the towels.

"Give me an hour to shower and rest my feet for a bit, I wanna go out and explore while we wait."

 -x-

"Do you see that one over there? That's a hammerhead shark! They're one of the most powerful sharks in the ocean."

Natasha hears the little girl gasp, watching their eyes going wide with wonder. She can't help the small laugh that escapes when she sees the young girl lean closer towards the glass before loudly whispering, "is it going to eat us?"

You laugh softly, and Natasha can't help but think that she's missed hearing the sound of your laugh, something she thought she wouldn’t hear again. It comforts her slightly to know that it hasn't changed after all these years, and that  she can still easily recognise the sound as being yours only.

"It won't eat us! Sharks don't eat humans," she hears you explain. "They're more interested in fish and seals, than they are humans. But they are really strong swimmers, and they can smell things from miles away - even in water!"

She'd been watching you answer questions about sharks for the past 5 minutes, after a curious little girl ran up to while you were looking at the shark tank and asked if you knew what type of shark was swimming in front of the glass.

"Do sharks talk to each other?"

"They don't talk like we do, but they do communicate by using their bodies and how they move through the water. Some sharks even make sounds by rubbing their teeth together, kind of like a secret language that only they can hear."

It doesn't take long for the girl's mother to find the three of you, sighing in relief as she sees her daughter, looking up at you apologetically.

"Sorry, she's probably been asking you a million questions."

You give the woman a friendly smile and shake your head. "It was nothing, I loved answering all of her questions." You tell her. "It looks like you might have a future marine biologist on your hands."

"Let's leave the lovely ladies to enjoy the rest of their date, bubba."

"Oh- it's not-"

"We're not-"

The mother and daughter are already walking off before either of you could finish your sentences, leaving you and Natasha standing in front of the shark exhibit with red cheeks and thundering heartbeats. 

Natasha catches your eyes as you glance at her in a shy glance, and she knows it's too late. The warmth that passes through her as you smile, the same warm and knowing smile that you used to give her when everything was still okay was almost enough to bring her down to her knees.

You interrupt before her thoughts can spiral any further, clearing your throat before gesturing with your head the direction of the next exhibit.

"Shall we keep going?"

 -x-

Natasha sits across from you at a small café by the beach. You mention to her that it was your secret place, one that you go to when you wanted time to slow down and just have a moment to catch your breath. After the little incident at the aquarium, you guys decided it was best to just sit and people watch for the time being to avoid any more awkward interactions.

The warmth emanating from the cup of coffee did little to chase away the little chills that ran down her spine every time Natasha caught you gaze lingering on her for longer than you must've realised.

She told you about the plans that she and the girls had made for their vacation while you filled her in on your own life, telling her about your cousin that had just recently come to visit you just before Christmas.

"I'm glad you chose to come with me." You admit after a pause in conversation, voice soft. She turns to look at you, your eyes meeting hers with such an intensity it made her breath get caught in her throat. "I missed getting to talk to you like this."

She can tell that you spoke without thinking, the widening of your eyes giving you away. You look away, muttering a quiet "sorry" before lifting your drink to your lips in an attempt to hide the flush of your cheeks.

She was supposed to be over you. She'd told herself time and time again that she had moved on, but seeing you again, and being here with you, she couldn't deny that she was still in love with you. Having you so close yet so unreachable leaves an ache in her chest.

Throughout the time you two had been sat at the café, she watched you with fondness at the way your eyes lit up while you spoke with excitement in your voice about the things you and your cousin had gotten up to in the week they were with you; Natasha realises that she missed you too - and the comfort that you brought her just by simply being near.

"Nat? You okay?" The worry in your voice only deepens the ache in her heart.

"Yeah, no, sorry - I'm okay." She answers with a shaky nod, breathing deeply. She allows herself to feel her emotions, knowing that it would only do harm if she tried to deny herself this moment with you.

"I missed you too."

The sadness settles deep within her chest, the way you looked so shocked at her words - and she wonders if you were expecting her dismiss your words.

Her phone pings loudly from where it was placed on the table, the text tone sounding off four times in a row as her screen lights up between the two of you.

Natasha!! We've landed :D - Wanda

Sestra, we're on our way to the hotel now, tell lover girl to drop you off now - Yelena

Hi Nat, sorry again - we'll be there in 30 minutes! - Kate

I'll check us in if we make it to the hotel first, Nat, just let us know when you're there - Maria

You both watch as each text pops up on her phone, knowing that your time together was coming to an end.

Natasha watches as you ponder for a moment - wondering if you were going to add on to your words from before now that she's admitted that she missed you too. For a second it does seem like you're about to say something, but instead you just shake your head slightly to yourself, clearing your throat and as you look away, flagging down a waiter to pay for the meal you shared.

"We should probably get going if we want to get to the hotel at the same time as them."

She allows herself a moment to watch as you gather everything, absentmindedly listening to you talk about leaving now so we don't hit traffic - though I guess it's fair to make them wait, considering they made you wait like 10 hours, that's a practically a whole day wasted where you guys could've been sightseeing!

Natasha knows your putting on a brave front - she can see it in your eyes as you gather your wallet and keys, but she begrudgingly gets up after you pay for the bill, walking back with you to your car.

Already dreading the moment she has to say goodbye.

-x-

"Well, I guess this is where I leave you."

Pulling up at the front of the hotel, you catch a glance of Yelena, Kate and Wanda through the window. Even though you couldn't see her, you knew Maria wouldn't be too far away. Probably checking everyone in, you assumed as you parked your car near the entrance.

You do your best to avoid looking at Natasha, taking your time in getting out and grabbing her bags from the trunk, knowing this could very well be the last time you see her again. The thought alone breaks your heart all over again - you can recall all the times you've begged the universe to let your paths cross once more. Now that your wish has been granted and you're preparing to say goodbye to her once again, you deeply feel the loss of her from your life before it's even happened.

She's already watching you as you close the trunk. You hope that she can't see the tears that have been slowly building up since you started the drive to the hotel. You refuse to let yourself hope that the look in her eyes could mean anything order than gratitude.

"Thank you, Y/N, for today." She tells you softly.

"It's was nothing, Nat," you say with a smile, before softly adding, "you're welcome and I hope you guys have a Merry Christmas."

Getting lost in the silence that falls between you; you miss the way she's looking at you as you stare down at your shoes, waiting for her to grab her things and go so you can drive back to your apartment and sulk for the rest of the week. You wonder if she can see the way your hands are shaking as you wait for the inevitable goodbye.

"Y/N?"

You hum in response, not trusting your voice to stay steady if you decided to use actual words.

"I had a really good time today."

You tilt your head in curiosity. You've had a hard time all day trying to gauge if Natasha was having enjoying herself or not. There's no doubt in your mind that she would've said something if she wasn't.

"And it got me thinking," she continues. "I don't know- maybe I'm reading into everything wrong, and you can absolutely say no. You'll probably say no, because this is crazy, but I had to say something before I lose my mind-"

"Nat." You interrupt. As endearing as it was to hear her ramble on, to see her getting more and more flustered as she kept talking, you knew she'd work herself up before she every got to what she actually wanted to say.

"Breathe, love."

You nod encouragingly after she takes a deep breath, giving her time to gather her thoughts.

"Maybe it doesn't have to be so wrong, you know?" She starts. "To try again."

You try to hide the shock that you feel, but can't stop the way your eyes widen ever so slightly at her words. Never in a million years did you expect her to even say yes to spending the day with you, let alone suggest giving your relationship another go.

Does she mean just a friendship or an actual relationship?

Is she just saying that because of today?

What if she realises she doesn't actually mean that later on?

What if this was just a joke and she was just waiting for you to say yes so she can go "aha! I was just kidding as if I'd be serious."?

What if-

"We're different people now, don't you think?"

Confused but curious to know what else you had to say, she nods. "I'd say we are."

"We're older than we were before." You add. "We know a lot more about ourselves now, I'm not the scared kid I used to be."

You're scared of making the same mistakes you did all those years ago. But you also know that you're more than willing to learn from those mistakes; to stay and communicate to make things work instead of running away at the first sign of trouble. Because if there's anything you want more in the world, it's to make this work with her.

But just as much as you are scared, you can't help but be excited. Excited and honoured to learn more about this new Natasha, and fall in love with her all over again. You can't wait to find out what stayed the same, and what changed about her. Whatever she was willing to share with you, you'd gladly take.

"I could love you properly this time."

She gasps softly, and your heart pounds at the prospect of already scaring her away.

The thought of her friends seeing this happening through the window of the hotel briefly crosses your mind - you wonder if they'd approve of you making a return to Natasha's life or if they'll make you work for it after the way things ended between you two.

But she smiles, stepping into your personal space to wrap her arms around your neck and all thoughts leave your mind. The only thing you can focus on is Natasha pulling you closer so her words are only for your ears and your ears only to hear.

"I could love you properly this time too."

-----

@sadonism

[dixons-sunshine]

I’m sorry I’m being so annoying but I check your blog everyday to see if you posted the spicy/panic fic, do you think you will? Or have you already and I’m blind??

Sorry I’m just looking forward to it.

I hope you’re having a great Xmas angel

Not To Blame | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Talks of bondage and panic attacks.

A/N: I’m so sorry for the wait, anon! I completely forgot to post it. Now this only references what happened because I had a hard time writing the actual spicy part that lead up to everything, but I hope this is still somewhat okay!

It all happened so fast.

One moment, you’re straddling Daryl’s lap, tongue-deep in his mouth, grinding your hips against his like your life depended on it. The next moment, you could clearly sense your partner’s distress, his breathing turning shallow and sounding choked up, his body tensing and his chest rising and falling in an unsteady rhythm. Although you could have easily mistaken it as pleasure, you knew the archer, and you knew that he was in the midst of a panic attack.

Everything frisky ended the moment you had realized that. You had clambered off of him, and untied the ropes binding him to the headboard of the bed—the bindings being the sole reason that the love of your life had trouble breathing and he had tears in his eyes.

You sighed as you walked from the kitchen and back to the bedroom, a glass of water in your hand. You felt terrible about what happened. It had been your suggestion to try bondage in the first place. Although Daryl had seemed rather intrigued by the idea, you should have known better. Daryl had so many bad memories linked with being tied up. You should have known that something like this would happen.

Stepping into your shared bedroom and closing the door behind you, you sent a small, tentative smile towards Daryl. The man in question was sitting up in the bed, his eyes still a little blood shot from the tears he had shed earlier when you had helped calm him down. When he saw you, he offered up a weak smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“I have your water,” you began softly, slowly making your way over to him. You handed him the glass of the cool liquid and sat down next to him on the bed, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder and rubbing soothing circles on his flesh with your thumb. “Do you need anything else?”

Daryl took a sip from the glass, before pursing his lips and shaking his head. “Nah,” he replied, his voice shaky and a tad bit gruffer than normal. “M’alright.”

You frowned slightly. “You sure?” There was a few beats of silence after the crossbow-wielding archer nodded, before you spoke up again. “I’m so sorry, Dar.”

It was Daryl’s turn to frown. “Why’re you sorry? You didn’t do nothin’.”

You shook your head in denial. “I’m sorry for placing you in that awful position. I should have known better.” Daryl opened his mouth to say something, but you cut him off. “Don’t try to downplay what happened and say that it was nothing to spare my feelings. I’m not looking for pity. I just want you to know that I’m sorry about what happened, okay? And I don’t want you to try and make me feel better. Let me take care of you for a change, okay?”

A genuine smile spread across Daryl’s face this time. He nodded and placed the glass down on the nightstand. “Yes, ma’am,” he said, placing his large hand on your thigh. “But I dun’ want’cha to blame yourself, alright? I know what I was gettin’ myself into when you suggested we try bondage. S’not your fault. S’all trial and error, and now we know s’not somethin’ m’into.”

“I guess so, but I definitely would have preferred never trying it in the first place than having you go through that,” you told him, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Me too.” A good minute of silence passed, before you lifted your head and stood up, much to Daryl’s chagrin. “What’re ya doin’?” he inquired, his ocean-coloured eyes following your figure as you stalked towards the bathroom.

He soon got his answer when he heard the shower start running. A few seconds later, you walked out of the bathroom and towards him, took his hands in yours, tugged him up from the bed and lead him into the already steam filled room.

“Let me take care of you. You said I could. Let’s get you cleaned up and ready for bed,” you reminded him, gently beginning to fiddle with the buttons on his sleeveless shirt. “And no further funny business tonight.”

Daryl smiled, and allowed you to help him out of his shirt, his heart swelling with love for you. “Yes, ma’am.”

[robo-writing]

Hii. Absolutely LOVE LOVE LOVE all your work

Could I request a one shot about cuddly logan with a soft but beefy fem reader?

Like I saw this post which basically said good luck trying to breathe if you're cuddling with logan and he's on top of you because his head weighs about 20 kgs (45lbs) based on the 1/7th of bodyweight estimate. And as someone who weight trains I was like thats not a lot?!?!?!?!? light weight no reaction, why stop at just the head lay your whole upper body over me I'll be fine. He deserves the love and comfort. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I want to hold him tight, let him decompress and make him feel safe.

“Twenty…Twenty-One…!”

He watches you from the door, leaning against the frame while you bring the iron bar to your chest. A repetitive motion that draws his eyes towards your sweat-lined arms, bulging with exertion as you count each rep out loud.

“Twenty-Two…Twenty-three…!”

He thought he was fit, but watching you is breathtaking. He has the benefit of a mutation, but seeing you lift damn near twice your weight with ease makes him that more impressed by you. Your hard-work is displayed effortlessly for him to see, and boy, is he watching.

“Twenty-Four…Twenty-Five…Logan?”

His attention is grabbed from the sight of your muscles to the sound of your voice, looking up to see the knowing look you cast towards him.

You carefully set your weights down, swinging your legs from the bench while you wipe the sweat from your brow. “Seeing something you like?”

“Seeing someone I like,” he grins, before his eyes point to the discarded bar. “That a new record?”

“Mhm,” you answer, still very aware of how intensely he was eye-fucking you. “Care to join me?”

“Nah, not in the mood to lift,” he says, furrowing his eyebrows when you laugh.

You push yourself forward, inviting him to your side with a crook of your finger. “I meant that you’d be better as a participant than as a spectator, if you catch my meaning.”

It takes a while for the gears to turn in his head, looking at you a bit like a lost puppy before it starts to click in his head.

“You…want to lift me?”

“I do,” you giggle. “What are you? 360?”

“390.”

“I can deadlift 410.”

He eyes you warily, while you sit there oh so inviting. The last thing he wants to do is hurt you, but he can’t lie to himself and say that the idea of you carrying him isn’t making his heart skip a beat.

Decisions, decisions.

“My skeleton is made of metal sweetheart, I don’t fancy driving you to the hospital,” he sighs.

“I’ll be fine! Trust me,” you plead, walking towards him with your hands together. “Please? Pretty please?”

Logan turns his head away, knowing exactly what you’re trying to do. “No means no, don’t try to convince me, I’m not cracking.”

You huff dejectedly, and he thinks he’s won—

—until he feels your hands at his sides.

“If I can’t convince you,” you grunt. “Guess I just gotta do it myself!”

“Hey—!”

You heave once, bend your knees, and suddenly his feet no longer touch the floor. On pure instinct he freezes, grabbing you by the shoulders while your hands find their way to the back of his thighs. You stand proud, his legs wrapped around your hips, holding him close while you grin like the cat who ate the cream.

“What the fuck,” he whispers, shock on his face. You jostle him around a bit, making sure your grip is secure before taking a few steps.

“See? Perfectly safe,” you muse, leaning up to give him a quick peck on the chin. “Told you to trust me.”

He’s reeling from a lot of emotions—fear, nerves, even anxiety—but underneath all that is this giddy little feeling that sits in his chest at the idea of being carried around, especially with such ease. He can’t remember the last time that happened—can’t remember the last time someone wanted to.

“I see that smile on your face,” you say, kissing at his face while he’s distracted. “You like being carried, don’tcha?”

True to your word, there’s a smile spreading across his lips, one he tries (and fails) to hide. “Just happy you didn’t break your back is all.”

There’s a lot of benefits to being your boyfriend, but this is the one thing he’ll never get used to.

[blue-jisungs]

ancient runes and sea creatures

summary. leehan ends up in his worst nightmare - getting the perfect student into trouble

au. hogwarts!!!! ravenclaw!reader x hufflepuff!leehan

word count. 4722 (got a lil too carried away... )

warnings , extras. leehan is intimidated by reader ?? but in a like. impressed way?? also reader is a head girl prefect!!. a slightly suggestive implication at one point but like, its misinterpreted ++ a bunch of hogwart lingo and lore (?). use od leehans real name. mention of a creature that eats humans

author's note. a biiig thank u to @slytherinshua and @gluion for pushing me out of my writers block w this one!!! and esp moni, who tbh came up w this plot!!! i hhope u like it!!! it kinda took a self-indulent route for me (ancient runes as chinese characters haha... haha... and leehan being a mid student w niche hobbies vs the perfect student yn who! shocker! likes! studying... hahah....ha.....) ANYWHO. also love u to death @l3visbby for proofreading!! where would i be w/o u atp....

also i wanted to post one last thing in 2024!!! so i hope u enjoy it and get ready bc ive been cooking <3

leehan fixed his glasses, fingers brushing against the coarse pages of his favorite book. then, he glanced at his notebook. filled from top to bottom with neat, medium sized, handwritten text. here and there were loose sketches and photographs attached with fish shaped paper clips.

the hufflepuff boy looked up at his gryffindor friends - jaehyun and woonhak. they were chatting about something loudly, the sound of their voices blending in with the noise in the corridor. 

sunlight peeked from behind the windows leehan was leaning against, making him feel even more indulged in his own world. 

“we’ll keep going. don’t wanna be late for potions!” jaehyun suddenly announced in his ear and ruffled his hair “see you, donghyun!” 

he just smiled in return, woonhak having goodbye. 

before returning to his book, he let out a small sigh and started looking at the students passing him by. a lot of friends giggling and talking, some people studying or snacking on colorful candy. 

then, as if a lightning struck him, he tensed upon noticing you. 

you were walking with fast pace yet not hurried one. the navy and grey colored tie rustled on the wind, your hair waving gently. a small frown was painting on your graceful features.

“what do you mean sungho is not showing up? i need everyone there” you asked, glancing at your ravenclaw friend for explanation. however, they did not have any. 

“no idea, y/n! he just told me to tell you and wandered off… you have to–” they started. 

“i don’t have to do anything. we have to cooperate if we want everything work out” with a scoff, you turned your gaze away and locked eyes with leehan for a mere moment. 

he felt blood rushing to his cheeks, quickly glancing down at his book. you looked scary. no, intimidating. 

“this thing isn’t here by accident” you gently tapped your head girl badge with pride. “let’s go to class now. i’ll catch sungho later” 

leehan didn’t even realize he was holding in a breath - only when the sound of your voice faded away, he released it. 

he tilted his head and smiled softly, flipped through the pages. he only stopped when he saw a detailed print of a basilisk. quite terrifying yet devilishly smart creature. 

leehan closed the book and packed his belongings, slowly going towards his classroom. 

“oh come on, don’t be such a loner!” riwoo’s whines reached nearby standing student’s ears, causing them to look over at the hufflepuffs. leehan cleared his throat and let out a sigh of defeat.

“fine. who else is going? you know i don’t enjoy crowded places in particular…” he started but his friend already started pushing him towards the exit.

“well you, me, jaehyun, woonhak… and, drumroll please! yes, you guessed it! two infamous slytherins, park sungho and han taesan!” riwoo grinned. leehan nodded, satisfied. that’s a perfect amount of people. “and hanbin”

“just hanbin?” leehan frowned, suspicious. riwoo smiled awkwardly, forcing his friend to move faster.

“and sohee!” riwoo hesitated. 

“and…?” leehan grunted, halting in place.

“that’s all! i promise!” sanghyeok put his hand over his heart “hufflepuff’s honor!”

leehan just scoffed and followed his friend to three broomsticks. it was weekend, after all. going out with more than two people once in a while won’t hurt him, surely. 

it was warm inside, the smell of delicious food hitting his nostrils. donghyun was quick to spot his friends (and their friends). lately jaehyun was detachable from sohee and hanbin. 

eight butterbeers were already waiting on the table, sticking to the wood. 

“you made it, woah! you have my respect!” woonhak, the youngest, joked. sungho patted the seat next to him and leehan sat down, smiling awkwardly. 

“and you? shouldn’t you be on the prefect meeting or whatever?” taesan asked suddenly, sungho rolling his eyes. 

“i should. but if i skip one, nothing will happen” he shrugged, reaching for his butterbeer. 

“y/n seemed pretty upset about it” the words slipped out of leehan’s lips before he could realize it. everyone looked at him, a bit shocked, so he quickly added: “i heard it when she was passing me by. nothing crazy, it’s not like i talk to her or something” 

the mere thought of standing near you terrified him, not to mention talking. donghyun didn’t know how sungho –  or anyone, really – was doing that. 

“she’s being dramatic. miss perfect… she decided to be in charge of organizing almost everything this year, at least it feels like it” sungho mumbled. 

“yeah, it’s crazy how she manages to do it all. well, let’s just hope she won’t cast melfors jinx on you” jaehyun teased 

“his head is as big as a pumpkin already, though” taesan snickered and was met with sungho’s fist on his shoulder. 

you were sitting on the grass, crossing out the ideas that seemed foolish. the weather was cold, yet snow hasn’t fallen yet. even though it was november, you were in charge of organising events for students that are going to stay at hogwarts during christmas. you being one of them. 

well, it wasn’t fully your responsibility - other prefects were supposed to help. 

“stupid sungho…” you mumbled, wrapping your scarf tighter around your neck. 

you looked up and adored the view in front of you. the last of leaves falling off trees, being swept by wind. here and there you could see some students but during this cold season, majority preferred to stay inside. then, you noticed a particular silhouette. 

someone was squatting dangerously close to the lake. 

you stood up, packing your belongings in a rush. 

as you approached the reckless student, you noticed the yellow and black colors of hufflepuff. of course. you opened your mouth to scold their behavior but you heard a quiet murmur. 

“hm? how did you get here, little one? you belong to the island. you couldn’t have possibly swam over here” 

you leaned a bit forward and peeked over the hufflepuff student’s shoulder. he was gently reaching his pointer finger out to a bowtruckle.

the small, green creature was staring at the stranger, big brown eyes blinking slowly. it slowly meet half-way with the person’s finger. 

“you’re not as shy as you friends” a low chuckle made you smile “i should get you back there… but how?” 

the person rose their head up and looked around. the bowtruckle pointed at you. 

“oh?” the student tilted their head and looked through their shoulder, meeting your curious gaze. you gasped, getting caught. 

the guy’s eyes widened, lips tightening. 

“oh” he mumbled. you frowned, his features looking somehow similar. 

the hufflepuff boy stood up, acting as if he did not just hid the small creature in his pocket. he tried to walk away but you stopped him. 

“hey! it’s dangerous to be out here” you cleared your throat. the guy stopped in his tracks, back facing you “do you have an idea what kind of beasts are there?”

a soft smile cracked on his lips, eyes trained on the ground. 

“kelpies, grindylows, selkies… and oh, the giant squid. man, they are so…” he whispered and you were certain he thought his words didn’t reach you. yet, they did. you smiled, realizing he was probably another creature-obsessed student.

“anyway, i do appreciate your care towards this little fella. however, it would be better if hagrid took care of him” you looked at him with a straight face. the hufflepuff boy kept avoiding eye contact and failed to notice the silly bowtruckle escaping from his pocket. 

the green creature ran down his pants and started making circles around you. 

“i, uh… i don’t know how to hold him” you scoffed, trying to catch it. 

“like this. make sure not to tug the leaf on its head…” he breathed out and caught the bowtruckle, holding it in two hands. 

awkward silence fell between you two, the boy stubbornly keeping his head low. 

“i’ll keep going” he mumbled and wandered off to hagrid’s hut, leaving you puzzled and somehow intrigued.

“hey, chill out” sungho nudged your shoulder, casing your fountain pen to jerk and leave a crooked line. you glared at him.

“i would if someone helped me. i still have to come up with ideas for the three last days and i need to turn them in to mcgonagall by friday” you huffed and tossed your notebook aside. 

sungho puffed his cheeks and looked over at taesan for help. he just shrugged, carelessly tucking his hands into his pockets.

“don’t look at me. i’m not even a prefect” his cat-alike smirk made you even more frustrated.

“okay, well… maybe try asking some students what would they want to do?” sungho proposed, scanning your face to gauge your reaction. you let out a small huff.

“see, here we go. thanks. now i just have to ask around who’s staying…” you groaned and noted down the idea, closing your notebook. “but i’ll do that later. now i’ll go, i promised professor snape to help him clean the classroom. a reckless student just… caused a mess, so to say” 

the exchanged amused looks and you raised your eyebrows. 

“what?” 

“nothing. have fun” sungho snorted. his gaze suddenly snapped up to someone else and he waved. you noticed three people walking up. 

one of them looking similar.

“hey, myungjae, do you happen to know someone who’s staying at hogwarts during christmas?” sungho asked, leaning on the table. your fingers twitched at the sight of him almost spilling a cup of juice with his elbow.

“well, uh… our leehan and ricky, i think. and zhanghao. and hanbin, he promised to stay with them so they wouldn’t feel lonely” a boy in gryffindor uniform answered and looked at you, a wide smile painting on his lips.

“you’re staying?” taesan asked. you looked at the only hufflepuff boy in the group. so that was leehan?

“yeah” he answered shortly, purposefully averting his gaze from you. 

“why–?” taesan kept asking and you just sighed. 

“is there anything you would like to do? during the break. i need to organize events for students so i figured it would be the best idea to ask them personally” you crossed your arms. 

everyone looked at the guy, his head tilted down and eyes glued to his shoes. 

“what’s up with him?” the other gryffindor student whispered. 

you waited for a moment before shaking your head. that seemed to work on the boy - he finally looked at you, shyly. 

“it’s a hard question, i know. just… hit me up once you figure it out” you sent him a soft smile and went your way. 

“what’s up with you? is the potion blowing up in your  face still on your mind?” jaehyun laughed and nudged leehan’s shoulder. 

“so that was him after all” taesan snickered. 

“chill out, donghyun. y/n is really cool, don’t need to be all tensed up around her” sungho teased. leehan looked around, scanning the great hall. some people were looking their way - but that was probably nothing serious, right? just a bunch of losers, a prefect and the head girl prefect that’s an all a student.

“earth to leehan! why are you staying here?” jaehyun asked, waving his hand before the hufflepuff boy’s eyes. 

a playful smile painted on leehan’s lips before he explained his reasons to his friends. 

rushing through the dark hallway, you pressed your textbook closer to your chest. it was way past the curfew and you hoped flich was done with his late patrols on this side of the castle. you just happened to get too focused on ancient runes and–

“oof-!”

you felt the impact of bumping into something and almost landed on the ground when a strong hand prevented you from falling. you squeezed your eyes, the darkness not allowing you fully to recognize the stranger.

“y/n…?” his soft voice rang familiar and you glanced at his uniform. the yellow badge with a proud badger adorned his chest.

“leehan, right?” you scoffed and he helped you regain balance, taking a step back. that way, the moonlight sneaking through the windows fell on his face, highlighting his features. 

he fixed his glasses, brows slightly furrowed.

“what are you doing here?” you whispered, blinking slowly. even though your prefect instincts kicked in, you were genuinely curious. 

this boy had just a mysterious aura to him. always so aloof, almost distant. nowadays, you caught yourself noticing him, usually alone reading a book or doing something. something, indeed. just like when you saw him near the lake. he always seemed to be looking for some kind of creatures. you couldn’t help but wonder what he was up to.

“i… uh, i was researching” he smiled gently. his gaze was fixed on you - unlike other times. maybe he didn’t feel so shy now that the midnight darkness was surrounding you two. you thought it was cute. “and, uh… you?”

“ancient runes. they are quite relaxing to me, it’s just… i write them all over to remember how they look. once i nail that i feel like i can read them properly. but just the writing itself… is, yeah. time consuming but fun” you smiled and nudged his arm gently “let’s go together, our dorms are in the same direction”

he nodded and followed you, the quiet sound of footsteps echoing through the corridor.

“did you think about the question? it’s okay if you haven’t, i was just curious” you asked, glancing at him.

“personally, strolling around hogwarts at such hour is nice. i wouldn’t mind it if i was able to do it without the possibility of getting in trouble” he answered. you agreed.

“i haven’t thought about that. hm. maybe it’ll be possible since there’s gonna be less students. i’ll talk to mcgonagall about it” you hummed “thanks” 

“and, uh, did you get it all done? like, the events” his voice was quiet. he wasn’t shy but more so, he was cautiously picking his words. 

“yes but there’s not going to be much. people i asked didn’t seem interested” you sighed.

“it’s a shame, you’ve been working hard to come up with anything” leehan sent you a reassuring smile. a strange glint sparkled in his eye, some kind of sadness. 

“what can i do? i guess they want to be alone, apparently” you scoffed.

“meow”

you two froze, feet glued to the floor. leehan looked at you, wide eyed. 

before you could realize, he was pulling you to hide behind a column. with your head squished against his chest, you could hear his heart pounding as if it was about to rip out of his ribcage. 

his hand naturally rested on your head, the soft fanning of his breath against your hair. 

the sound of footsteps was coming closer and closer as you tried to think of something. 

a sudden beam of light caused leehan to squint his eyes, pulling you slightly closer. 

“what an absurd! not only it is after curfew, you are also… doing things that should be kept private! this place is coming to an end! who would have thought, students… of opposite-!”

“what? no! it’t not like that!” you choked out, turning around on your heel. 

“mrs l/n?!” filch gasped, and mrs norris’ loud meow was almost soul ripping “out of all people! you?”

“no, it’s not like that! we just…” leehan’s voice was quiet, almost stuttering. 

“yes? explain your red faces then! someone who was caught wouldn’t be such a blushing mess! dear merlin, what is going on with those youngsters nowadays!” the caretaker whined.

“we weren’t doing anything, mr filch! we just- we tried to hide! from you, it is. not from you as in… we didn’t-” you tried to explain. when you turned around to check up on the ravenclaw boy, he was indeed as red as the gryffindor representative color. his eyes were glued to the ground and you could swear you saw sweat dripping down his temple.

“detention!”

his eyes snapped up, wide as two prophecy orbs. panic written all over his face, fingers fiddling. 

“it’s my fault. let’s not bring y/n into this” he spoke up, swallowing hard. 

“how so? i see you two. not just you, boy” mr filch said with an attitude, picking up mrs norris. “i’m not repeating myself. detention. madam pince needs help in the library, so it’s just perfect” 

“but-” leehan tried to cut in but the cat interrupted him with an aggressive hiss. 

“now go! before i take points from your houses!” the caretaker tsked and you ran off, grabbing his hand. you could only hear distant murmurs “the head girl… youngsters are getting worse and worse each year…”

once out of his reach, almost at the ravenclaw dormitory, you realized you’re still holding his hand. leehan halted, gasping.

“i’m so sorry, y/n! i don’t know what’s gotten into him but i’ll do it myself. please, don’t bother–” the hufflepuff boy started rambling, avoiding your gaze. was he scared you’re angry at him?

you gently put your hand on his arm.

“hey” 

leehan slowly looked into your eyes; however, just for a split second. his breath was heavy in the silence. 

“it’s alright. i can handle one detention. in the library? it sounds like a pleasure to me” you huffed, trying to cheer him up. poor boy, he must’ve really felt guilty. “he got so pissed because he has never felt the touch of a woman. mr filch got jealous, that’s all” 

you chuckled but leehan remained quiet. well, maybe that was a failed attempt at trying to cheer him up. 

“i, uh. anyway, i’m sorry too. don’t beat yourself about it, okay?” you whispered, patting his arm. leehan’s small nod made you content. “sleep well, leehan” 

he felt your hand slip off his shoulder. 

maybe if he wasn’t too ashamed to look up, he would’ve noticed the way you looked back at him before entering the dormitory.

leehan was standing between the bookshelves, enjoying the smell of books. the library was quiet, thanks to the majority of students having left already. even madam pince wandered off to somewhere. 

“hi”

he turned his head to the side and was shocked to see you. out of your ravenclaw uniform, at that.

“hi” he whispered and quickly returned his gaze to the book he was holding. he gulped nervously, his adam’s apple bobbing.

it was his worst nightmare, actually. bringing the all-star student into detention with him. even though the fault was technically on both sides, he couldn’t help but feel guilty. you should be resting and not… 

“how’s it going?” you asked quietly, standing next to him. your back faced the bookshelf he was facing, side profiles matching. 

“it’s quite pleasant, to be frank” he mumbled in response “you didn’t have to come here”

you scoffed and scanned all the books, laying in messy piles. they really needed reorganizing.

“would i really be able to call myself a student without getting in trouble even once?” you snickered, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. “i told you not to worry about it, leehan”

silence fell between you two, only the sound of him flipping the pages bringing warm comfort.

“it’s donghyun, actually” he said softly with a twinge of happiness. you cocked your head and glanced at him, grabbing a random book. “leehan is a nickname that just… stayed. donghyun is my real name”

“it’s pretty” it slipped out of your lips before you could realize, so you just hung your head low and decided to think of a strategy on how to resort the books. leehan smirked and put the book he was holding on one of the shelves. to break the awkward tension you accidentally created, you cleared your throat “uh, did you take care of that bowtruckle back then?”

“bowtruckles aren’t really my thing so i took it to hagrid. he promised me to get it back to its home tree” he hummed, reaching for another book. he ran his fingers over the navy colored cover, the remaining letters of a handwritten title barely there anymore.

“so what is, then?” you asked. 

even though you didn’t have to be quiet, you two kept talking softly. you couldn’t put your finger on it but maybe it was the overall atmosphere of the library. alas, you wouldn’t say you minded. it was comforting.

“sea creatures” donghyun answered with a soft sigh. did you irritate him? 

“sorry. you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. i’m just curious about you” you mumbled. 

your shoulders were touching and you felt his arm move now and then whenever he reached out to put away a book. 

leehan hummed in deep thought, far away with his thoughts - hence, he didn’t hear you.

he never would have thought that he would be conversing with you. you were just so out of his league and intimidated him. good grades, friends with everyone… but deep down it was your organization skills. you just had it all together. despite all those side things you took care of, you still managed to find time to study. heck, you even liked it? he recalled your conversation from the hallway. what did you say about ancient runes…?

“they are quite relaxing to me, it’s just… i write them all over to remember how they look. once i nail that i feel like i can read them properly. but just the writing itself… is, yeah. time consuming but fun.” 

how can one find thousands of new icons to learn, memorise and remember… relaxing. he was a bit jealous that you did it so effortlessly. 

and sure, he heard you complaining about tests and exams. but you still passed with ease. unlike him, who no matter how much he studied, still barely passed. 

“ouch!”

a soft thump of a book falling brought him back to life. 

he leaned down to pick it up but only bumped against your forehead. 

blood rushed to his cheeks out of embarrassment. but you just giggled and took the book, putting it back. 

he must have been zoned out for a while because he noticed you did one of the shelves already. 

you grabbed another book. it had a black cover and no title whatsoever. you started flipping pages to check what even it’s about. leehan, who was peeking through your shoulder, saw a glimpse of an interesting drawing.

“the giant squid” he placed his finger before you closed the book. you were startled a bit and looked around to meet his face quite close to yours. 

yet, his brown eyes were fixated on the creature.

“do you know it’s semi-domesticated? on the chocolate frog cards its described as “the bane” of hogwarts’ students who wanted to go for a “dip in the lake”. it’s so dumb. first of all, it lives very deep in the lake, so even a small dip wouldn’t hurt. and secondly, it’s harmless. it…” he hesitated and a shy smile formed on his lips. you couldn't help but smile as well “it even allows students to feed it bread”

“really?” you asked in disbelief, turning your gaze to look at the drawing of a giant squid. donghyun’s low hum of confirmation made shivers ran down your spine.

“toast to be specific” he added and you felt a movement.

leehan stepped closer and you could feel his body almost pressing against yours, his breath softly fanning over your cheek. the hufflepuff leaned closer to read the information. right, of course.

“but you know, it must be because its magical. true giant squids, architeuthis i think, wouldn’t be able to stand our lake’s lack of salinity. and normally, it wouldn’t digest food” donghyun shrugged. you didn’t know what was happening to you - you couldn’t prevent your smile from growing. listening to him rambling about his niche sea creature interest really warmed your heart.

oh, this boy got you whipped.

“i think it’s a subspecies. like kneazles and mundane cats” leehan added, his finger tracing the black inked illustration of the squid’s tentacles.

your breath hitched. you wanted to reply, to throw a comment. but you realized you had no knowledge in this discipline, making you even more intrigued with donghyun.

“i really want to see it one day. maybe in summer. sometimes it plays with students, you know? lays out its tentacles out of the lake and just… lets the students mess with it” he tsked “hopefully…” 

“i’d like to see that” you giggled. you heard a faint gasp and glanced at him. his eyes snapped back at you, as if he just realized he’s been rambling. 

“i’ll take you with me, then. i planned on going at the end of the year, just before leaving for summer break” he shot you a soft smile, small crinkles forming around his eyes (and you swore your knees just went weak). 

“i’m in” you grinned and gently moved his finger out of the book. then, you closed it and stood on your tiptoes to put it on the higher shelf.

however, you couldn’t reach.

“let me help you” donghyun’s tender voice once again rang from behind you. 

soon enough, you felt his warm hand on your hip as he took the book from your hand and placed it for you. for a mere moment you could feel his chest pressing against your back, the smell of his cologne invading your senses like a swarm of butterflies whirling around you.

you didn't even realize when the hufflepuff boy was back in his position, putting back the rest of the books. and further on ramling about sea creatures.

“there was also a case of the giant squid helping a student that had fallen into the lake…”

sitting on a nearby bench, you were writing the ancient runes to form a sentence. actually, you were writing in your journal about today’s date with donghyun. his own notebook was laying next to you - he was afraid to get it wet. 

“ah, y/n, quick! a grindylow!” he yelped and you shot to your feet, dropping your journal onto the bench. with snow crunching underneath your feet, you sprinted towards the hufflepuff boy. he had his scarf and hat on, pink nose peeking from the layers. 

“how did it come here?” you asked curiously, quickly joining his side. 

leehan's  gloved hand grabbed yours and pointed at the quickly swimming creature. it was barely visible due to its dark color blending with the green shade of the lake but you could see its outline. 

“my bet is looking for food. they like fish. or maybe it was bored. or…” donghyun hesitated, looking over at you. you shifted your gaze at him, looking at his big brown eyes hidden behind his glasses. “or… it came here for its prey!”

donghyun suddenly wrapped his arms around you, lifting you off the ground and spinning around. you squealed, taken by a surprise. 

“they don’t eat humans!” you whined when he put you down.

“uh… sure…” he chuckled and reached to the pocket of his puffy jacket. he grabbed some dried algae and threw it into the water. you moved closer to him, suddenly scared. interlocking arms with his, you snuggled onto his side.

“it eats people?” you asked quietly as you saw the creature swimming closer to the food. its head poked out of the water surface, small, black, shiny eyes looking at you before taking a bite of the algae.

leehan snickered and grabbed your chin, eyes locking with you.

“only cuties like you” he grinned and moved his yellow and black scarf out of his face. then, he leaned closer and kissed you softly. even though his lips were cold, you felt warmth spreading through your body. you smiled into the kiss and pulled him even closer by the scarf. 

who would have thought that two days after the detention you’d gain the courage to ask him out. 

he pulled back slightly, first looking at your lips with a smirk and then back in your eyes.

“and humans. but only the grown grindylows and that one is still a baby” he grinned. and before you could even roll your eyes, he pulled your ravenclaw-colored hat down and covered half of your face. with a giggle, he pulled you closer.

masterlist <3

taglist. @slytherinshua ,, @weird-bookworm

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Shall I Count the Ways: L (FINAL)

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Spencer Reid x F!Reader

Summary: You and Spencer are best friends. You’re in love with him and he’s in love with you, but neither of you know it nor decide to tell the other about their feelings. All the love is there, just hidden in the things you say and the things you do with one another.

A/N: IT'S OFFICIALLY OVER. THANK YOU TO ALL WHO CONTINUED TO READ THIS SERIES AND IM SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO ACTUALLY FINISH IT!

Series Masterlist

50. "I love you."

You practically lived at Spencer's apartment. You spent so much of your time at his place than yours. He emptied out part of his dresser and a portion of his closet to make room for some of your things. He encouraged you to bring more of your belongings, but you declined. You didn't want to take up more of his space than you already had.

"But I like you taking up space," he had said softly, with that soft smile of his.

You wanted to confess your love to him right then and there.

You technically have already, through your words and actions, but you never actually said those three words yet. You and Spencer have officially been together for six months and haven't said "I love you" to each other yet.

You feel as though because of Spencer's own insecurities and anxieties, he held back saying them. For you, you just didn't want to put any pressure on Spencer to say it back. But you love him, there is no doubt about that. You know in your heart, your mind, hell, your entire being that you absolutely love this man. You have for so long and you can't imagine not loving him.

You know he loves you too. You know by how he holds you, how he looks at you, how he talks to you. He doesn't say it outright, but you know he does.

Still. Hearing him say it would be nice. But there's that underlying fear, on both sides.

So now, six months into being with Spencer, you've come to accept that it may be a while until you hear him say those words.

Until he does on one random Tuesday evening.

_________________

Spencer was away on a case. He was called by Emily as soon as his last class of the day ended. They needed all hands on deck. He gave you a quick call on his way to his office, to let you know what was going on. He grabbed his go-bag that he always keeps at the school and proceeded to head to Quantico.

He'd been gone for four days. Every night before going to sleep, he'd call you and listen to you relay your day to him. You'd keep talking until either of you fell asleep. The last thing either of you heard were each other's voices.

The last day, Spencer texted you that he'd be coming home late and that you shouldn't wait up for him.

Well, you're stubborn, you so made sure to drink some coffee while you waited for Spencer to arrive back.

You were sitting in Spencer's living room, posting some of the new antiques you received onto your website when you heard a familiar jingle of keys. You set your laptop aside and stood up right as the door swung open.

Spencer's tired eyes brightened in surprise, "I told you not to stay up."

"It's fine. I drank some coffee so I can be awake to greet you," you peck his lips and take his bag from him. You go to bring it to his room, but he catches your wrist.

"Hold on. C'mere," he pulls you to him, causing you to drop his bag at your feet.

You giggle, wrapping your arms around him, "What is it, Spencer?"

His eyes roam your face, taking in every detail before landing on your eyes, "I love you."

It was now your turn to look surprised, "Spencer-"

"I'm sorry it took me so long to say it. First I take forever to confess my feelings for you and now to confess my love. I'm sorry you've had to wait so long for me, but know that I've always loved you and will continue to love you."

You can't help but chuckle in disbelief, "Where is this grand confession coming from, hm? Did something happen? Did someone say something?"

Spencer looks shyly at you, "No. Nothing like that. It's-It's just I was thinking about how excited I was to come back here and to find you here. I felt so much love for you just thinking about seeing you again after these past few days. Then I realized I never even said 'I love you' yet. We've been together for six months, three days, and," he pauses to look at his watch, then finishes, "-twenty-one minutes."

"I love you too, Spencer. I wanted to tell you much sooner, but I didn't want to pressure you in saying it back. You've been going through so much, I didn't want to add any more stress-"

Spencer shakes his head, "No, you could never add any stress to my life. You take it all away just by being here."

You smile brightly at him, "I love you so much, Spencer," you whisper.

"I love you too," he murmurs before closing in the distance and pressing his lips to yours.

You and Spencer have gone through hell and back, but you two have always loved each other. You've said and shown it in various ways and you know that there is absolutely nothing the world can throw at you that will break you two apart.

[reyesstrand]

wip wednesday

thanks for the tags @paperstorm @carlossreaders @literateowl @nisbanisba @strandnreyes @everlastingday @whatsintheboxmh @ironheartwriter @laelipoo @tellmegoodbye @lemonlyman-dotcom @carlos-in-glasses and happy holidays! here’s a little something from my posted secret santa fic before i run off to work :’(

“Yeah,” TK says, his voice rough as he stifles another groan. His hand curls around the back of Carlos’ head, fingers scratching through his hair, his thumb brushing the shell of his ear. “Mmph. Love you.”

It’s a quick peak after that, the two of them coming undone a breath apart. They curl around each other and slump over to the middle of the bed, stretching their legs out and murmuring their morning I love yous. The digital alarm clock across the room blinks 7:17 in faded green neon, a pressing reminder that they only have so much time tucked away in their own space.

“So, your dad’s at five?” Carlos asks, even as TK wiggles against his side and tries to nudge him to turn over. “Hey, I’m cuddling you here, dude.”

“Let me hold you,” TK says, sliding his arms around Carlos’ middle. “Come on, you had all of last night.”

“Babe, Jonah’s gonna be up in like, ten minutes,” Carlos laughs, even as he happily gives in to his husband’s whims and pout and turns over to his right side. “We should be up before then. You know he has no problems just busting in here.”

“Gimme five minutes,” TK says, properly spooning up against Carlos’ back and nuzzling his face against his throat. “M’kay, what were you saying? Dad’s at five?”

“That’s what he told you, right?” Carlos asks, tracing mindless shapes over TK’s forearm with his index finger. His blunt fingernail follows the lines of the honeybee, something he’s found himself able to do without even looking.

no pressure tagging @butchreyes @liminalmemories21 @theghostofashton @emsprovisions @alrightbuckaroo @pelorsdyke @captain-gillian @nancys-braids @heartstringsduet @bonheur-cafe @never-blooms @freneticfloetry @goodways & open tag!!

[fanfoolishness]

Number 10 with your Ingellvar x Lucanis is calling out to my angst fueled mind, please!

You write so beautifully btw 🥰 and your rooks are GORGEOUS

Thank you so much! I hope you enjoy this one, it really got rather out of hand!

Prompt: a kiss out of desperation. Liesl Ingellvar isn’t sure what’s real, but Lucanis is there for her. Set very shortly post-game so full spoilers for the ending. Angst and hurt/comfort and feels, 1429 words of them! Enjoy :)

———

What’s Real

Gray mist swirled around her, settling clammy dew on her cheeks and hands. Beads of it slid down to gather at her chin. She wiped it away, unsettled.

Stone rose up out of the mist, half-recognized, messy sketches of the Grand Necropolis yawning before her. But this was not the Grand Necropolis she knew; though it was ever changing, ever mutable, it still always felt familiar in the sweet-musty scent of the grave, the preternatural stillness, the sense of vastness far beyond mortal ken. This place she was in now felt like a tarnished reflection, a pale imitation of what she knew. She traversed the wending trails in cautious confusion, feeling hemmed in. Constrained.

”This isn’t home,” Liesl muttered to herself. “It’s the Fade.”

But if it was the Fade, why did she feel so uneasy? She had long ago mastered herself and her dreams, and hungry spirits held no dominion over her: she knew who she was, and what she was about. There was nothing to fear here.

Except she knew better.

Varric’s voice came behind her, kind and caring, proud and warm. “Hey there, kid.”

”You’re gone now,” she whispered, blinking back sudden tears. “I let you go. I understand everything.”

”You sure about that?”

The fear choked her, made it hard to breathe. She couldn’t be back in Solas’ prison. She’d fought her way through. She’d been called home. But she couldn’t remember how she had escaped — if she had escaped — and cold dread staggered her heart. With a great effort she turned to face him.

Varric chuckled, shaking his head. He stood before her with an easy smile, Bianca on his back, hands on his hips. The mist billowed around him as his smile drooped. “I’m sorry, Rook. We messed up. We tried though, didn’t we? Wish I could write it all down.” He sounded so tired.

Then Varric shifted in the fog, his shape smaller, slighter. Familiar red hair blazed through the mist. Harding gave her a sad look.

“You’re here,” she said. “Gosh, I wish you weren’t. It’s not a nice place to be.”

”Harding, I’m sorry —“

Harding waved a gloved hand at her, shrugging. “You made a choice, and so did I. I knew that this was part of the deal! I think you did, too.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “It’s so chilly here. No one told me it was going to be so cold.”

Liesl dashed away tears with the back of her hand. She wouldn’t cry. This wasn’t real. Was it?

Harding sighed. “I just wish my Ma was going to be all right. With all this, you know?”

“I’ll tell her how brave you were,” Liesl said fiercely.

Harding gave her a sad smile. “But how are you going to do that, Rook, when you’re trapped here?”

No. She had to get out. Had to escape. She turned and ran the other direction, nearly running into another figure.

It was Solas. Not the brash young warrior of the Crossroads, nor the wise tactician speaking into her mind. He was Wisdom made Pride, his eyes cold and sharp and calculating. The Dread Wolf drew nearer and even through the mist, she could see the bruises mottling his face, the mouthful of blood staining his teeth.

“You’ve outdone yourself,” Solas said, raising the lyrium dagger. Before she could arm herself or reach for her magic the dagger was beneath her chin, pressing against her pulse. “But the Veil falls now. It must.” He gave her a rueful smile. “I regret you will not see what will become.”

The dagger nicked her throat, and the world went blue, then white.

—

“Rook! Liesl! Wake up!” Hands on her shoulders, a voice in the dark, a shower of violet feathers. She blinked, shaking, her eyes adjusting to the darkness. Lucanis was beside her, candles flickering behind him, Spite’s wings gone once more. She knew this place. It was Varric’s room… no. It was the Lighthouse infirmary.

She scrambled up to a sitting position and stared at Lucanis for a long and terrible moment, her chest heaving. Was this real? Was this the prison? Would Lucanis vanish, just another trick? She clapped a hand to her throat, but there was no wound.

Her head throbbed. She buried her face in her hands, overwhelmed. The cot sank and shifted as Lucanis sat down beside her.

“Oh, Rook, Rook, Rook.” He murmured her name like a prayer, voice raw and cracking, and then his arms were around her. He pulled her in close, holding her tightly, burying his face in the crook of her neck. He was warm and solid.

She took a deep breath. He smelled of stale coffee and sweat, elfroot, a hint of injury. Injury. She — she remembered —

“We did it,” she mumbled. “Didn’t we?”

“We did,” Lucanis said softly, lifting his head. He brushed away the tears that had gathered at the corners of her eyes with the pad of his thumb. “We won. But you were hurt. Do you remember?”

The battle with Elgar’nan, a blow to the head, running on sheer willpower. Pleading with Solas with her head pounding, Lucanis holding her steady as the dizziness worsened. A flash of light as the Veil mended and stabilized. The others, some injured, but all alive. It was coming back to her in bits and pieces.

“I remember,” she said. “But I — I thought I —” She shivered, bowing her head. “I thought he’d trapped me again in the Fade. That he was going to tear the Veil down. I saw Solas — and Harding — Varric —“

She raised her head, looking over at the cot that still held Varric’s folded jacket, the shattered remnants of Bianca. He was still gone. It had only been a dream, not an echo, not a spirit, not a trap.

“I’m sorry. They’re gone. But you’re awake now,” Lucanis said. “You’re safe.”

But the fear still lingered. She pulled back from him and he reluctantly released her from the embrace. She turned her gaze from Varric’s bed — no, it had never been his bed — and stared into Lucanis’ worried face, seeing him more clearly now.

A large bruise stained one cheek. There was a bloodied split in his swollen lip. The shadows beneath his reddened eyes were deep and dark, and his hair was tangled, nearly snarled. Clearly he had not left her side since Minrathous or attended to his own injuries.

“Are you all right?” Liesl asked, resting her hand on his chest, against his rumpled waistcoat.

“Told him to rest. Heal. I would guard you. Wouldn’t listen!” Spite growled, a violet aura flickering around Lucanis’ body for an instant.

“He’s stubborn, that’s for sure,” Liesl agreed, almost smiling. Spite laughed.

Lucanis shook his head, the flicker of Spite dissipating once more. “I am fine,” he said. She touched the bruise on his cheek and he winced slightly. “Mostly fine. It’s of little concern. We were all more worried about you. Emmrich and Bellara did what they could, but there were many injured, and supplies were low. This?” He gestured to his face. “Is nothing.”

She nodded, her head aching with the motion, and grimaced. He brushed the hair back from her forehead, peering concernedly at her eyes.

“Rook, you should not be up yet. You must rest,” Lucanis said.

But if she rested, the Fade awaited her. Harding, Varric, they might be there again, the fears and griefs she’d barely had a chance to name before she’d had to return to the fight. She couldn’t face them, not yet.

Not alone.

“Tell me I’m here,” she breathed, desperate to believe him. “Please, Lucanis. Tell me I’m here.”

His dark eyes were too bright, glittering in the candlelight. “Oh, Liesl.” He stroked her hair, her cheek, and drew her into a shaky kiss. “You are here with me, I promise. I love you.”

She kissed him back, sinking against him until they lay entangled on the narrow cot, pressed tightly against each other. She could feel his hands, the rise of his chest, the jut of his hips, the way his legs fit in with hers. The way he fit with her.

“I believe you, Lucanis. I love you.” And she did, in a way that felt realer than real, a rich and deep love unbound by Fade or dream. She could feel him against her, smell the familiar scent of his hair and skin, hear his breathing. She knew he spoke the truth. She breathed deeply, safe in his arms.

I’m here. I’m here.

We’re here.

[gguk-n]

would you consider doing a prompt in which the MLs have the same soulmate marks but they are enemies? you can choose the driver and the logistics i would love to see a fic like this by youu

Thank you for the ask!!

I had this in my inbox for so long bc I'm indecisive and I couldn't choose who to write it for, so there's a poll to choose. There will be a part 2.

What? How?

Everyone grew up hearing about soulmate; from their family or friends or relatives. Most people looked forward to meeting their soulmate, some people wanted to defy fate and some people never got to meet their soulmate.

Y/N thought she was a part of the soulmate less crew, "I'll register you with soulmatch" her mother told her. Soulmatch was an agency, a app or a website, which ever one you chose to help two soulmate less individuals get together and find companionship in each other. Her mother wanted her to start looking, Y/N couldn't careless since her job kept her busy and she was barely at home anyways. Y/N was a race engineer in Formula One; a job she worked tirelessly to achieve. It barely gave her any time to wonder where her soulmate was. She got to work with some of the most talented and smart people to make machinery that made the car go really fast. But now she was working with her driver to make sure the race went as smoothly as possible with the best result as possible; sometimes at the cost of the other driver. "Are you listening to me?" her mother's voice broke through her thoughts. "Yeah" she replied. "I'll let you know once you match with people" her mother stated before cutting the call.

Her parents were late bloomers themselves; meeting each other in their late 20's and early 30's so she didn't understand the fuss her mother was making. She was in her prime and a soulmate would come along when he wanted to. Y/N travelled the world; if a soulmate existed, she would run into him eventually.

There were a lot of times you would wish someone was your soulmate and there were a lot of times you wished someone wasn't. For Y/N, it was her driver's teammate. She hated his guts; ever since she had joined, he had been a pain in the ass for as long as she could remember. He would start fights with her if she prioritised her driver, and honestly, who else would she prioritise. She had good strategies that would work in her driver's favour sometimes and he couldn't tolerate it. Starting fights and unnecessary arguments. The team was done with them, the paddock was done with them and the DTS crew always had so much fun.

It was any other race weekend, the two of them had been at odds since FP1. Y/N tried to be calm and mature about it; she didn't want to cause issues for the team. Hence, she ignored any thing and everything he said. It was getting on his nerve; she was ignoring him and behaving extremely rudely to him. It all came to a head when the team finished P1 and P3 with Y/N's driver winning the race. You can already imagine the resentment brewing as he got out of the car.

During the post race interview, there were jabs being thrown but it was during On The Sofa; he said something, he later realised he shouldn't have. But it was too late; Y/N was already there and a fight broke out. A lot of commotion, the media having a field day, the P1 and P2 driver trying to get them to stop, their team trying to stop them and PR having a crisis. The crowd went silent as Y/N pulled her sleeve up to reveal her soulmate mark which matched the her enemies's soulmate mark exactly; now visible due to the scuffle. A loud whisper broke out in the crowd, Y/N looking at him and then his mark as the pair tried to process what was happening. Over whelmed with emotions, Y/N stormed off, leaving the crowd but most of all her soulmate stunned.

Y/N was reeling from the revelation; the man who was supposed to be her soulmate was also the man she hated the most, or did she dislike him? All of these thoughts and emotions swirled inside her as she wondered what just happened and how she had gone this long before finding out. Did he know? Did he hate her because he knew? What was going on and what was she supposed to do? She felt her world crash and her phone wouldn't stop ringing. She looked at the caller and it was her mum. "Congratulations darling" she bellowed. Y/N was confused, "I saw you found your soulmate" her mum said when she got no reply. "How did you find out?" she asked. "It's on the news, sweetheart" her mother stated. While Y/N was still reeling from the revelation, F1's social media accounts had already posted about the two sworn enemies actually being soulmates and how it was straight out of a fairytale. Y/N wanted to disappear. Why was this happening now? she wondered, exhausted from the events of the day.

[bluenerdtastemaker]

Maybe There Is Hope

Yuki Tsunoda x Liam Lawson | Rated T | 11.3K

--

--

--

I hated him. I hated everything about it. - Anonymous

Liam Lawson wasn’t sure why he clicked on the video. Maybe it was boredom, maybe it was the algorithm pushing it onto his feed, or maybe it was the title—"Anonymous Letters: Confessions of Broken Friendships"—that tugged at something buried deep in his chest.

It was a Jubilee segment. He’d seen a few of them before, strangers sitting in dimly lit chairs, reading letters from people they would never meet. Honest, raw stories. This one was no different.

A young girl with a soft voice started reading.

"I worked in a field where you had to be a predator. If you weren’t, you’d be eaten alive. And for a long time, I thought I was okay with that. It’s just how things are."

Liam’s chest tightened, but he brushed it off. It wasn’t like he hadn’t heard metaphors like that before. Competitive sports were cutthroat. Everyone knew it.

"I had a best friend in that world. We started as teammates in a junior program, and we were inseparable. We laughed, supported each other—even when the results were bad, even when the rumors started. We promised we’d have each other’s backs."

His hand paused mid-reach for the remote.

"But then, in 2024, things changed. One of us was going to get promoted to a bigger role. It was down to me and him. I thought it was going to be me."

Liam sat up straighter.

"I had better stats, more experience. I was ready for it. But they chose him."

The girl’s voice cracked, and Liam’s stomach dropped.

"He got it with less than six trials. I smiled when it happened. I told him I was happy for him, but inside, I hated him. I hated everything about it. Was it because of the way I talked? The way I acted? Did I come off too strong? I don’t know."

His heart was pounding now.

"I told myself it was just one bad decision. That I’d find something better. But then time passed, and the opportunities stopped coming. Eventually, I was forced to leave that world. And my best friend—he didn’t call."

Liam’s vision blurred for a moment. He didn’t need the girl to keep reading. He already knew how this story ended.

Yuki.

"I left everything behind. I hated him. Hated myself for hating him. I wished I could say it to his face, but I didn’t. We never talked again."

The girl paused, her voice softer now.

"Sometimes, occupations or life destroy what you thought was your light. And sometimes, you can’t stop it."

Liam barely heard the rest of the video.

Yuki had vanished after 2025. No interviews, no social media posts—nothing. At first, Liam thought he just needed space, time to process everything. But days turned into months, and then years. And Liam hadn’t reached out. He didn’t know why. Maybe he thought Yuki would come back. Maybe he thought he’d be mad.

But he never imagined this.

Liam turned off the video and grabbed his phone.

There was no hesitation. He pulled up Yuki’s old number, fully expecting it to be disconnected. But the message box was still active.

Liam: I’m sorry.

He stared at the screen. The three dots popped up almost immediately.

Yuki: Why now?

Liam swallowed.

Liam: Because I just saw you.

There was a long pause, then;

Yuki: I didn’t think you’d care.

Liam: I do. I always did.

The dots hovered for a long time before disappearing. Liam stared at the empty screen, his heart sinking, but then—

Yuki: We need to talk.

And Liam finally exhaled.

–

Liam leaned back in the plush leather seat of his private jet, eyes fixed on the endless stretch of clouds outside the window. The hum of the engines filled the silence, but it did nothing to drown out the thoughts racing in his head.

Yeah, this job had done wonders for his bank account. Private jets, penthouse apartments, tailored suits—he had it all. But the weight on his chest didn’t care about any of that. Success had a way of amplifying the emptiness instead of filling it.

He wasn’t the one to blame. He knew that. He’d just played the game the way it was designed to be played. He’d worked hard—harder than most—and he deserved that position next to Max. He’d earned it.

Yet, no matter how many times he told himself that, Yuki’s face always surfaced.

Even now, three years later, it lingered. That half-smile Yuki always wore like armor, the sharpness in his eyes that made you forget he was barely over five foot three. Liam had thought that smile would always be there, but when it disappeared, it left behind a void that no amount of podiums or championships could fill.

The plane touched down in Okinawa under a hazy sky. Liam stepped out, sunglasses shielding his eyes from the glare, and turned the small slip of paper in his hand. An address.

He’d double-checked it more times than he cared to admit. A quiet island where the majority of the population was elderly. It didn’t match the image he’d held of Yuki for so long—the fiery, unstoppable force that tore through the junior circuits like he was born to do it.

But here he was, standing in front of a modest home that smelled faintly of saltwater and earth, clutching a wrinkled piece of paper like it was a lifeline.

Yuki lived here now. Not just lived—thrived, if the stories Liam had managed to dig up were true. He ran a restaurant and art business, which honestly didn’t surprise Liam in the slightest. Yuki had always had a talent for turning chaos into beauty.

Still, knowing Yuki was doing well didn’t stop the nerves twisting in Liam’s stomach as he stood at the front door.

He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and rang the bell.

The door opened, and there he was.

Yuki Tsunoda.

But not the Yuki Liam remembered.

This Yuki was broader, stronger. The kind of build that came from heavy lifting and labor instead of gym sessions and simulators. He wore a loose short-sleeve shirt that showed off his tan skin, his toned arms, and—Liam’s eyes caught—an intricate sleeve tattoo of sakura blossoms winding from his shoulder to his wrist.

His ears glinted under the sunlight, three earrings in one and two in the other. Liam almost didn’t recognize him. Almost.

But the sharpness in his gaze—that fire—was still there.

Yuki’s eyes narrowed.

“…Liam?”

Liam swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. “Hey.”

Yuki didn’t move, didn’t speak for a long moment.

Then he stepped back, leaving the door open just enough to let Liam through.

“Come in,” Yuki said, his voice low, unreadable.

And just like that, Liam stepped into a world he thought he’d lost forever.

–

The house was quiet. Too quiet for Liam’s liking.

He followed Yuki inside, the faint scent of paint and cooked rice lingering in the air. The place wasn’t big, but it felt lived-in—warm, but guarded. Yuki led him to a small living room where the walls were lined with framed artwork.

They sat across from each other.

Yuki didn’t speak at first, his eyes locked on the table between them. Liam tried to take in everything—the way Yuki’s fingers curled tightly around his glass, the way his shoulders rose and fell just a little too quickly.

Then, Yuki exhaled, sharp and heavy. “So. You saw the video.”

Liam flinched. The words were heavier than he expected.

“It was you,” he said quietly, more a statement than a question.

Yuki scoffed, shaking his head. “Not exactly.” He looked up then, his gaze sharp and unrelenting. “It was my sister’s idea. She thought if I didn’t have the guts to talk to you, maybe a stranger reading my words would make you listen. I was waiting for your message, hence why I still keep that number.”

Liam swallowed. “Yuki—”

“Don’t,” Yuki cut him off, voice firm but trembling. “Let me say this first.”

Liam shut his mouth, his chest tightening.

Yuki leaned back, his arms crossed, exposing more of the sakura blossoms inked into his skin. It made Liam feel even smaller somehow.

“I hated them,” Yuki started, his voice low and controlled. “Those two old men who smiled at me, promised me the world, and then threw me away like trash the second I wasn’t convenient for them anymore. I gave them everything—five years of my life—driving cars that weren’t good enough, hearing excuses that didn’t make sense, and still, I kept showing up.”

Liam’s nails dug into his palms.

“They told me to be patient, to wait, that my time would come. But it didn’t, did it?” Yuki laughed bitterly. “When 2026 came, and the seat was full, I knew I was done. Not good enough for them. Never good enough.”

“Yuki, you were—”

“No,” Yuki snapped, his voice cutting through the room. “You don’t get to tell me that. Not now.”

Liam bit his tongue.

“Do you know what it’s like, Liam?” Yuki’s voice broke, just a little. “To give everything and still not be seen? To know that no matter what I did, no matter how fast I was, no matter how hard I fought, it was never going to be enough?”

Liam didn’t answer.

“Because I’m Japanese? Because I’m not loud enough, not tall enough, not charismatic enough? Or maybe because I refused to smile and play their games when they wanted me to?” Yuki’s jaw clenched, his shoulders shaking. “They said I needed to be more marketable, easier to sell. What the hell does that even mean?”

Liam shut his eyes, guilt clawing at his throat.

“And you,” Yuki whispered, and Liam froze. “They used you, Liam. You don’t even realize it, do you?”

Liam looked up, and Yuki’s eyes were already on him, dark and tired.

“They used you to make me feel small,” Yuki said. “Every time you got praised, every time they pointed at you and said, ‘Look how good Liam’s doing,’ it was a reminder that I wasn’t enough. And I hated it. I hated them for doing it, and I hated you for being part of it—even though I knew it wasn’t your fault.”

Liam’s breath hitched.

“But you know what the worst part is?” Yuki leaned forward. “I didn’t say anything. Not to them. Not to you. Because I cared about you too much to ruin what you had. I couldn’t take that away from you, even if it hurt me.”

Liam opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

“And now?” Yuki sat back, arms dropping to his sides. “I’m here. Running a business on a tiny island, trying to pretend I don’t care anymore. But I do.”

The silence was suffocating.

Finally, Liam spoke. “I’m sorry.”

Yuki didn’t move.

“I’m sorry I didn’t see it,” Liam said, his voice trembling. “I should’ve noticed—I should’ve said something, done something—but I didn’t. I was so focused on my own career, my own goals, that I let them turn me into something I never wanted to be.”

He exhaled sharply, hands trembling as he gripped his knees.

“And the worst part? I knew it was happening.” Liam’s voice cracked. “I saw how they treated you, how they talked about you when you weren’t in the room. I heard them compare us—over and over again—and I let it happen because I was too scared to speak up. Because I was afraid it’d be me next.”

Yuki’s expression didn’t change, but something in his eyes softened.

“I hated myself for it,” Liam admitted. “I still do.”

The words hung in the air between them.

Yuki sighed, leaning back in his chair. He ran a hand through his hair, his fingers brushing against the edge of one of his earrings.

“I wish you didn’t apologize,” he said quietly, and Liam blinked, taken aback.

“What?”

“It’s not your fault,” Yuki continued, his voice steady but low. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Liam. You just… played the game better.”

“That’s not—”

“It is,” Yuki cut him off, shaking his head. “It’s a fucked-up sport. It’s always been like that—cutthroat, political, and ugly under the surface. It’s never just about talent, is it? It’s about timing, connections, and luck. And for once, it worked in your favor.”

Liam’s breath hitched, his guilt still clawing at him, but Yuki’s expression didn’t waver.

“I don’t hate you for that,” Yuki said softly, and that hit harder than Liam expected.

“But—”

“I hated everything else,” Yuki admitted. “The way they treated me, the lies, the fake promises, the way they talked about me like I was a project that didn’t work out instead of a person.” He paused, his gaze distant. “I hated how they made me feel small. How they made me feel like nothing I did was ever enough, even when I gave them everything I had.”

Liam swallowed hard, his chest tightening.

“But you?” Yuki’s eyes met his again. “I could never really hate you, Liam. Not in the way I hated them. It wasn’t always like this.”

Liam’s shoulders sagged in relief, but the weight of Yuki’s words still lingered.

“I was angry,” Yuki continued. “At the system, at the people who pulled the strings, and yeah—sometimes, I was angry at you too. Not because of who you are, but because of what you represented. Because every time they praised you, it felt like they were telling me I wasn’t good enough.”

Liam clenched his fists, but Yuki just sighed again.

“And I’m sorry,” Yuki said, and Liam froze. “For letting it get this bad. For shutting you out when I should’ve said something sooner. But I didn’t know how. I didn’t want to drag you down with me.”

“Yuki…” Liam’s voice cracked.

“I mean it,” Yuki said, his voice softer now. “I don’t want you carrying this guilt. You deserved that seat, Liam. You worked hard for it. Just like I did.”

Liam bit his lip, forcing himself to stay quiet even as his heart screamed at him to argue.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” Yuki added, and for the first time, his voice faltered. “I thought we’d both make it. That we’d be there, side by side, at the top. But life doesn’t work that way, does it?”

Liam shook his head. “No. It doesn’t.”

Yuki leaned forward then, resting his elbows on his knees. “I never wanted to hate you, Liam. And I don’t—not anymore. But I needed time. To let it go. To figure out who I am without all of that.”

“And did you?” Liam asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Yuki hesitated before nodding. “Yeah. I think so.” He gestured to the room around them. “This? It’s not what I thought my life would look like. But it’s mine. And I’m happy here.”

Liam’s chest ached, but it wasn’t the sharp sting of guilt anymore. It was something gentler. Something closer to hope.

“I’m glad,” he said softly.

Yuki smiled, small but genuine. “Me too.”

Liam watched as Yuki stood up, stretching his arms before heading toward the kitchen. The subtle shift of muscles under his tanned skin and the glint of the sakura blossom tattoo peeking from under his sleeve made Liam’s breath hitch, but he quickly averted his eyes when Yuki turned to glance back at him.

“Have you eaten yet?” Yuki asked, pulling open the fridge.

Liam rubbed the back of his neck. “Plane food doesn’t count, right?”

Yuki snorted—soft but familiar—and Liam found himself momentarily frozen, the sound tugging at something in his chest. It wasn’t loud like before, not the sharp laughter Liam used to hear echoing in the paddock or during late-night calls after races, but it was still Yuki. And maybe that was enough.

“Sit down,” Yuki said, already pulling out ingredients. “I’ll make something quick.”

Liam obeyed, settling at the kitchen island as Yuki moved around with practiced ease. He was calm—focused in a way Liam didn’t expect. Yuki had always been restless, bursting with energy even when exhausted, but this Yuki? He was deliberate. Measured. Different.

And undeniably attractive.

Liam swallowed hard, eyes trailing over the curve of Yuki’s shoulders and the slope of his back as he chopped vegetables and peeled shrimp. The tattoo inked along his arm shifted as he moved, and Liam blinked, forcing himself to look away when his cheeks began to burn.

What the hell was wrong with him?

He cleared his throat, eyes flickering to the stove where Yuki was stirring rice in a wok. The faint scent of garlic and soy sauce filled the air, and Liam latched onto it like a lifeline.

But his thoughts kept circling back.

Yuki had changed—a lot. He wasn’t loud or hyper anymore, and there was a weight to him now that Liam wasn’t sure how to define. His English had a thicker Japanese accent than before, probably from spending the last three years in Okinawa, and even the way he carried himself felt more grounded, more mature.

Liam had changed too. He wasn’t the wide-eyed rookie he once was. He’d bulked up, hardened under the pressures of the sport, but sitting here now, watching Yuki cook like it was second nature, Liam couldn’t shake the feeling that Yuki had grown in ways he hadn’t.

And maybe that was what made it so hard to look away.

“It’s done,” Yuki said, breaking Liam out of his thoughts. He turned to find Yuki setting two plates of fried rice down on the counter, steam curling up from the shrimp scattered on top.

Liam grabbed a fork without hesitation, shoveling a bite into his mouth—and nearly choking.

“Since when can you make fried rice this good?” Liam blurted, eyes wide as he went in for another bite.

Yuki raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement tugging at his lips. “You think I survived three years here without learning how to cook? I owned a restaurant man.”

“No, seriously,” Liam said between mouthfuls. “This is—damn, Yuki.”

Yuki huffed, shaking his head, but there was the faintest trace of color dusting his cheeks.

“Shut up and eat.”

And for the first time in a long time, Liam smiled.

–

Liam stood at the sink, sleeves rolled up and hands already submerged in soapy water. He scrubbed the plates with a focus that was entirely unnecessary, especially since Yuki’s kitchen was spotless to begin with.

“Liam—”

“Already started, can’t stop now!” Liam interrupted quickly, flashing Yuki a grin over his shoulder before turning back to the dishes.

Yuki huffed, crossing his arms and leaning against the counter. “I wasn’t asking.”

“And I wasn’t offering,” Liam shot back, his tone light but his heart thundering in his chest.

Yuki shook his head, muttering something in Japanese that Liam didn’t catch. It sounded exasperated—probably a curse—but Liam just smiled to himself and kept scrubbing.

The sound came next. A soft, high-pitched meow.

Liam paused, sponge in hand, and turned toward the source of the noise.

“No way,” he said.

Another meow, followed by the soft padding of paws against the tile. And then there they were—three cats, all staring up at him with wide, expectant eyes.

“Yuki,” Liam said slowly, voice dangerously close to disbelief. “You have cats?”

Yuki didn’t even look up. “Don’t judge me.”

“Judge you? No, I’m impressed.” Liam crouched down, extending a hand, and immediately one of the cats—a sleek black one with a little white spot on its chest—sauntered over and rubbed against his fingers.

The second cat, a fluffy orange tabby, flopped onto its back, clearly demanding belly rubs.

“Oh my god,” Liam whispered. “They’re adorable.”

“They’re a menace,” Yuki countered, though the affection in his voice said otherwise.

Liam looked up just in time to catch it—that soft, almost shy smile on Yuki’s face as he knelt down to scoop up the third cat, a gray and white one that curled up easily in his arms.

And Liam? He was doomed.

Because Yuki had always been attractive—sharp-edged and quick-witted, equal parts fire and charm—but this? The soft edges, the calm demeanor, the subtle strength in the way he held himself now? It was something else entirely.

“You’re staring,” Yuki said, looking down at him with a raised eyebrow.

Liam blinked, scrambling to cover. “I was admiring the cats!”

“Right,” Yuki said, clearly unconvinced, but he didn’t push. Instead, he set the cat back down and leaned against the counter again, watching as Liam stood up, suddenly hyperaware of how close they were.

The tension shifted then—subtle but undeniable.

It wasn’t new. Liam knew that. It had always been there, simmering quietly between them even when they were teammates—late-night talks, lingering looks, and smiles that meant more than they should’ve. But now? It felt sharper. Hungrier.

Yuki must’ve felt it too because he cleared his throat and stepped back, suddenly very interested in rearranging the spice jars on the counter.

“So,” Yuki said, his voice steadier than Liam expected. “You’re good with cats.”

Liam latched onto the topic like a lifeline. “I mean, they seem to like me.”

“They like anyone who gives them attention,” Yuki said flatly, but Liam caught the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Guess I’ll have to come back, then,” Liam said without thinking.

Yuki froze, just for a second, before forcing a laugh. “For the cats?”

“Sure,” Liam replied, but they both knew better.

The weight of it hung there between them—unspoken but heavy. And as much as Liam wanted to push, to close the space between them and figure out exactly what the hell this thing between them was, he didn’t.

Not yet.

Instead, he knelt back down, letting the orange tabby paw at his hand, and pretended not to notice the way Yuki kept looking at him.

–

They settled into the living room, Yuki on the couch with one of his cats curled in his lap while Liam took the armchair across from him. The plates were clean, the cats were fed, and the tension that had hung between them earlier had softened into something more manageable—familiar, even.

“So,” Yuki started, absentmindedly scratching behind the cat’s ears. “How’s life?”

Liam snorted. “You mean outside of flying in private jets and avoiding PR nightmares?”

Yuki raised an eyebrow. “Yeah. The real stuff.”

Liam hummed, leaning back. “Busy, mostly. Traveling, racing, pretending I don’t check your Instagram stories even though we both know I do.”

Yuki’s cat stretched, yawning as if it, too, was judging him.

“Funny,” Yuki said, smirking slightly. “Because I could say the same.”

Liam’s eyes widened. “Wait—you—”

“Relax,” Yuki said, waving him off. “It’s not like I’m scrolling through your tagged photos. Just...keeping up.”

Liam let out a breath, his lips twitching. “That’s a relief. Because if you’d seen half the things people edit me into—”

“Oh, I’ve seen them.”

Liam groaned, covering his face with his hands, and Yuki actually laughed—a real one, light and genuine. It made Liam’s heart lurch in his chest, but he pushed it down and refocused.

“So what about you?” Liam asked, lowering his hands. “I mean—art? I still can’t wrap my head around that.”

Yuki shrugged. “I always liked it. Had time after retiring, so I started sketching. Posted a few online, and somehow it blew up.”

“Blew up?” Liam repeated. “Try exploded.”

Yuki flushed slightly, brushing off the comment.

“No, seriously,” Liam pressed. “You’re Takako.”

Yuki winced at the name, but Liam wasn’t done.

“The Takako. The one everyone lost their minds over when that first series dropped in 2026? The one with the gallery showing in New York last year?”

“Stop.” Yuki groaned, hiding his face in the cat’s fur.

“No way,” Liam said, grinning. “I can’t believe I didn’t figure it out sooner. I mean, the pen name threw me, sure, but the art? It’s so...you.”

Yuki peeked up at him. “Is that a compliment?”

“Obviously.”

Yuki rolled his eyes but looked pleased anyway.

“And the mascot thing?” Liam asked.

Yuki shrugged again. “Perks of being Japanese. People are used to anonymous artists with avatars. Makes it easier to keep my privacy.”

“And you’re nominated?”

“Maybe,” Yuki said, but the corner of his mouth twitched like he was trying not to smile.

Liam shook his head in disbelief. “Unreal. Yuki Tsunoda—the guy who used to sneak instant ramen into hotel rooms—is an award-nominated artist.”

Yuki smirked. “And you’re still just driving in circles.”

“Hey!” Liam protested, but he was laughing too.

Yuki leaned back, stroking the cat in his lap. “Anyway, what did I miss? The grid gossip. I know you’re dying to spill it.”

Liam’s grin turned wicked. “Oh, you’re not ready.”

Yuki raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

“Max confessed to George,” Liam said, savoring the way Yuki’s eyes widened in disbelief.

“Bullshit.”

“I swear.” Liam held up his hands. “They’ve been soft-launching for months now, and George finally posted a picture of Max holding his dog like a baby in their private. It’s disgusting.”

“No way.”

“Way.” Liam smirked.

“And Charles and Carlos?”

“Still together.” Liam smirked. “You know they went Instagram official last year. Viral, even. Lots of dramatic vacation pictures and shirtless selfies.”

“Yeah typical,” Yuki muttered, but the corners of his mouth twitched.

“Oh! And Pierre and Esteban.”

Yuki perked up at that. “What about them?”

Liam leaned in, eyes glinting. “Kissed.”

“No!”

“Yes.”

“No!”

“Yes, Yuki. I swear. Kissed and now dating. Apparently, they used to be in this weird situationship for years before actually making it official. It was a whole thing.”

Yuki’s jaw dropped, and he ran a hand through his hair. “I need to message Pierre. Immediately.”

Liam laughed, watching Yuki scramble for his phone before realizing he didn’t even have Pierre’s new number. “I’ll text him for you later,” Liam offered.

“Do it,” Yuki said, still reeling. “God, I really missed everything.”

Liam’s grin softened as he took in Yuki’s expression. “Yeah, you did. But they’d all be thrilled to hear from you, you know.”

Yuki hesitated, fingers brushing the phone screen in his hand. “Maybe. I don’t know. It’s been so long, god damn, I left and the entire grid turns into a soap opera.”

Liam watched him carefully then, the way his shoulders had relaxed and his expression had softened. It was like seeing glimpses of the old Yuki again, and he couldn’t stop the fond smile spreading across his face.

“Still,” Yuki said, from the phone now looking at him. “It’s nice to know they’re doing well.”

“And you’re doing well,” Liam pointed out.

Yuki blinked at him, looking almost startled by the sincerity in Liam’s voice.

“Yeah,” Yuki said quietly, slowly avoiding eye contact with the blond man. “I guess I am.”

And for a moment, they just sat there—two people who had drifted apart and somehow found their way back to each other.

Suddenly, the peace was shattered by the most chaotic noise Liam had ever heard. A high-pitched yowl echoed through the room, and before he could even register what was happening, one of the cats had launched itself off the couch, landing on the counter with a loud thud.

The other two cats, apparently on some sort of coordinated mission, joined in on the madness, darting around the room with wild abandon. One of them knocked into the bookshelf, sending books cascading to the floor with a crash, while the other went straight for the mug on the counter. Liam barely had time to react before the cat swiped the mug off the edge, sending it hurtling toward the floor.

"NO!" Yuki yelped, diving forward to catch the mug, but the cat was faster. It tumbled down, crashing against the counter with a sharp, horrifying clink, shattering into pieces.

"That is THIRD mug this week!" Yuki groaned, falling back on his heels. His eyes met Liam’s in frustration, but the sight of the cat now sitting on the counter, looking entirely pleased with itself, was too much.

Liam burst out laughing, but that didn’t stop the chaos. The cats were still everywhere—two had jumped onto the coffee table and were now batting at Yuki’s art supplies, and the third had decided that Yuki's lap was the perfect place to take a nap again.

As Yuki reached for the stray cat on the table, his foot caught on the corner of the rug, and in a flash, he tripped—straight into Liam.

"WHAT—" Yuki gasped as they collided, arms flailing. For a moment, everything seemed to slow down, like they were trapped in an action movie scene. But instead of gracefully stumbling backward, Yuki found himself toppling straight into Liam, their bodies crashing together in a hilarious, jumbled heap on the floor.

Liam’s heart skipped a beat, his body going rigid at the sudden contact. For a moment, all he could hear was the rush of his own heartbeat, louder than a Formula 1 car at full throttle. He froze, looking down at Yuki, whose wide eyes were locked onto him.

"SHIT, sorry!" Yuki yelped, scrambling to get up as quickly as possible, but his arm brushed against Liam’s chest, sending a shock of warmth through him. "I—uh—didn’t mean to—"

Liam blinked rapidly, his face turning an alarming shade of red. "No, no, it's fine," he muttered, trying to push himself off the floor and stand, but his legs felt a bit wobbly. "I’m good. Totally fine."

Yuki scrambled to his feet too, looking flustered, his cheeks turning pink. "I—I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking—"

"No worries, really," Liam managed, but his voice was higher than normal. His heart was still racing like he was about to go into a race. "It’s all good."

Just as they both tried to regain some semblance of composure, the third cat meowed loudly from the counter. With a smug look in its eyes, it gave the broken mug a gentle nudge, and it clinked off the edge, sending a small piece flying into the air.

Both Yuki and Liam froze, eyes darting between the cat and the mess.

Yuki sighed heavily, rubbing his temples. "That’s it. I’m getting a dog."

Liam couldn't hold it in anymore. He laughed so hard, his stomach hurt. The absurdity of it all—the wild cats, the unexpected trip, the chaos—was enough to finally break the tension between them. He couldn't stop laughing, even as Yuki scowled at the mischievous creatures wreaking havoc in his apartment.

The sound of laughter filled the room, echoing around the small space, and for the first time in a long while, everything felt right.

–

The sun hung low in the Okinawan sky, bathing the small seaside town in a warm, golden glow. Liam followed Yuki into the modest, cozy restaurant tucked between older, weathered buildings. The wooden beams and hanging lanterns gave the space a timeless charm, and the scent of fresh ingredients and simmering broth filled the air.

“This is it,” Yuki said, gesturing around as he led Liam inside. “Welcome to my second home.”

Liam took it all in—The restaurant was small but cozy, with wooden beams and soft lighting that made the space feel warm. It had the kind of charm that invited people to linger a little longer after their meals, chatting over tea or quietly enjoying the ambiance. Liam stepped inside and immediately felt out of place in his designer shirt and watch, but Yuki didn’t seem to care. He moved with ease through the space, flipping chairs down from tables and tidying up before the evening rush.

“This is your side gig?” Liam asked, leaning against the counter as Yuki set out utensils.

“More like my sanity project,” Yuki replied, flashing a quick smile before gesturing to the kitchen in the back. “Cooking helps. Keeps my hands busy.”

Liam didn’t miss the way Yuki’s voice softened, like he’d said too much and was trying to backtrack. But then Yuki shrugged, falling into a familiar rhythm. “It’s nothing fancy—affordable, good food, nothing pretentious. This island’s mostly retirees, so that’s what works.”

Liam watched him, his hands moving quickly as he prepared ingredients, and for a moment, he was transported back to their younger years—when Yuki used to talk about opening a restaurant someday. “You really did it,” Liam murmured.

Yuki paused, glancing over his shoulder. “What?”

“The restaurant,” Liam said, smiling faintly. “You used to talk about this all the time. You said you’d have a place where everyone could eat well without worrying about money.”

Yuki turned back to the counter, but Liam caught the slight upward tilt of his lips. “Guess I wasn’t lying.”

By the time the regulars started calling, asking if Yuki was open tonight, Liam was already seated at the bar, quietly observing. Yuki didn’t hesitate to say yes, flipping the sign on the door to welcome them in. And that was when Liam saw it—Yuki in his element.

The tension Liam had seen earlier, the guarded way Yuki held himself, melted away. Here, Yuki smiled. He laughed. He teased the elderly customers who came in one by one, treating them like old friends. Liam saw how they adored him in return, bringing little trinkets or baked goods to share.

It was only when the bell above the door jingled that Liam snapped out of his thoughts. An elderly woman shuffled inside, holding a reusable shopping bag and wearing a wide-brimmed sunhat. Her wrinkled face broke into a smile the moment she saw Yuki.

“Ah, Yuki-kun!” she greeted, her voice soft but warm.

“Obaa-chan!” Yuki beamed, wiping his hands on a towel before bowing slightly. “You’re early today.”

“I wanted to see you before the sun went down,” she said, then turned her sharp eyes toward Liam. “Who’s this?”

Yuki looked slightly amused. “My best friend,” he said casually, and Liam’s heart stuttered at the words. Despite Yuki it in Japanese, Liam understood it. Best friend. God, he’d missed that. But something about the title felt uneven, like it didn’t quite fit the shape of their relationship anymore.

“You can sit with him while I finish up.”

The old woman didn’t hesitate to walk straight over, gesturing for Liam to pull out a chair for her, in which he catched on quickly. He obliged quickly, sitting across from her as Yuki went back to work behind the counter.

“You’re Yuki’s friend?” she asked in slow, deliberate English.

Liam nodded. “Yeah. From a long time ago.”

She squinted at him, as if examining his soul. “You are far away from home, yes?”

“Yeah,” Liam admitted. “But I wanted to see him.”

Her lips pressed into a thin smile. “Good. He needs friends. Too alone here. Always working, always busy. Never resting.” She glanced over her shoulder at Yuki, who was flipping something in the pan with practiced ease. “He smiles, but not like before. Guarded. Always guarded.”

Liam felt something ache in his chest as he looked toward Yuki’s back, watching the way his shoulders shifted as he cooked. It was true—Yuki had changed. He wasn’t the vibrant, reckless force Liam had once known. He was quieter and steadier, but there was an undercurrent of something heavy beneath the surface.

“He looks out at the sunset sometimes,” the woman continued, her words simple but cutting. “Like he is waiting. Or maybe longing for something.”

Liam swallowed thickly, gripping the edge of the table. “I—”

The old woman patted his hand gently, surprising him. “You talk to him. Don’t let him stay in shadows. It’s no good for the heart.”

He stared at her, unsure of what to say, but she simply smiled and stood up, muttering something about needing to get back home before dark. Liam watched her leave, her words echoing in his head long after the door jingled shut behind her.

When he turned back, Yuki was setting a plate down in front of him, giving him a curious look. “What did she say to you?”

Liam hesitated before shaking his head, forcing a smile. “Just... that I should eat before it gets cold.”

Yuki smirked, clearly not buying it but letting it slide. Liam picked up his chopsticks, but as he took his first bite, his eyes kept drifting back to Yuki—this version of him that was so familiar yet so different.

Because as much as Yuki had built a new life here, surrounded by warmth and laughter, Liam couldn’t shake the feeling that something was still missing—and that maybe, just maybe, it had something to do with him.

–

The night had slowed into something softer, quieter. The restaurant was cleaned, the dishes put away, and the elderly regulars had shuffled home, leaving behind faint traces of laughter and conversation. Liam stayed behind to help Yuki lock up, and by the time they made it back to Yuki’s home, exhaustion was starting to creep in.

It didn’t take much convincing—or rather, Liam’s stubborn insistence—for Yuki to end up sharing the bed instead of the sofa.

“No way,” Liam had said, hands on his hips, blocking the living room like a wall. “You’re not sleeping on that thing.”

“It’s fine, Liam. I—”

“No,” Liam interrupted, dragging Yuki’s blanket toward the bedroom. “Don’t even argue. Come on.”

Yuki grumbled but followed, muttering something under his breath that Liam pretended not to hear.

Now, hours later, the room was dim, lit only by the faint glow of moonlight filtering through the curtains. Yuki’s breathing was steady, his back turned to Liam, the faint outline of his sakura blossom tattoo peeking out from under the loose sleeve of his shirt. Liam had tried not to look, but it was impossible to ignore.

Lying there, with the sound of the waves in the distance and Yuki so close he could feel the heat radiating off him, Liam felt restless. He couldn’t sleep—not with the weight of everything unsaid pressing down on him.

He exhaled softly, his voice barely a whisper in the stillness.

“I don’t think I ever told you,” he began, unsure if he was speaking to Yuki or to himself, “how much it meant. Having you there.”

Yuki didn’t move, his breathing steady, and Liam took it as permission to keep going.

“I thought about it a lot,” he admitted, his voice breaking just a little. “You were the one who kept me grounded. When things got overwhelming, or when I felt like I didn’t belong, you were there. And then—then you were gone.”

His fingers tightened against the blanket, guilt rising in his chest.

“I hated myself for letting it happen. For not fighting harder for you. And I know I had no control over any of it, but still…” He trailed off, swallowing the knot in his throat.

The words lingered in the air, and Liam suddenly felt ridiculous. Yuki was probably fast asleep, blissfully unaware of his late-night confession.

“I just—” He sighed, quieter this time. “I miss you. More than I think I realized until now.”

The room fell silent after that, and the weight in Liam’s chest slowly eased as sleep began to pull him under.

What he didn’t see was the way Yuki’s eyes opened, dark and sharp in the dim light. He didn’t move, didn’t breathe too loudly—just listened.

And when Liam’s breathing evened out, signaling that he was finally asleep, Yuki turned onto his back, staring at the ceiling.

Liam’s words replayed in his head, over and over, cutting deeper than he wanted to admit.

Because the truth was—he missed Liam too.

But saying it out loud? That scared him more than anything.

–

The next day, neither of them brought up what happened the night before, leaving it unspoken. Yuki decided to make a call, informing everyone that the restaurant would be closed for two days so he could spend some time with Liam. It was the only time he ever did this. Since Okinawa is such a small island where everyone knows each other, the regulars understood and sympathized with the restaurant owner’s decision.

The roar of Yuki’s motorcycle had long since died down, leaving only the soft hum of cicadas and the distant crash of waves against the shore below. They were perched at the top of a hill, the kind of place that felt untouched by time. From here, the entire island stretched out before them, bathed in gold and amber hues as the sun dipped lower.

Liam sat on the grass, his legs stretched out, while Yuki leaned against his bike, arms crossed as the wind toyed with the strands of his hair. For a while, neither of them spoke, content to let the silence stretch between them. It wasn’t awkward—not anymore.

But Liam should have known Yuki wasn’t the type to let things fester forever.

“I heard it,” Yuki said suddenly, breaking the quiet. His voice was calm, but it carried weight—heavy and unflinching.

Liam blinked, turning to look at him. “What?”

“Last night,” Yuki clarified, not looking at him. His eyes were fixed on the horizon, sharp and unwavering. “What you said.”

Liam’s stomach dropped. The words he’d spoken in the dark, half-confession and half-regret, came rushing back all at once.

“Oh.” He scrambled for something—anything—to say, but Yuki cut him off.

“It’s okay,” Yuki said, finally turning his gaze toward Liam. “I’m not mad.”

Liam let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, but before he could relax, Yuki kept going.

“But I need you to know something.”

The tone in Yuki’s voice made Liam sit up straighter.

“I didn’t leave because of you,” Yuki said. “Not really. I left because I needed to get away from it—everything. The pressure, the expectations, the way it felt like I was constantly drowning just to keep up.”

Liam swallowed, the guilt tightening again. “Yuki—”

“I hated it,” Yuki interrupted, and for the first time, there was venom in his voice—raw and unfiltered. “I hated how the sport made me feel like I wasn’t enough, no matter how hard I tried. I hated how it chewed me up and spat me out, and I hated how I couldn’t stop loving it even when it hurt me.”

Liam flinched at that, but Yuki didn’t let him sit with it for long.

“I hated myself for not being stronger,” Yuki said, softer now. “For not being able to keep going. But I hated the system more—for making me feel like walking away was my only option.”

Liam didn’t know what to say.

“I didn’t tell you any of this back then because I didn’t want to drag you down with me,” Yuki admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “You deserved your chance. You worked for it. And if I had said something—if I had lashed out—I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself.”

Liam’s throat felt tight. He wanted to argue, to tell Yuki that he should have said something, that he deserved better—but he also knew Yuki didn’t need that right now.

Instead, Liam reached out, grabbing Yuki’s arm and pulling him down to sit beside him.

“I’m sorry,” Liam said, the words barely scraping past his lips.

“I told you to stop apologizing,” Yuki replied, but this time, there was no bite to it.

They sat there as the sun dipped lower, the sky painted in streaks of orange and pink. Liam glanced at Yuki—at the tattoos and the earrings, at the leather jacket and the guarded expression that had started to soften.

“You’re still my best friend,” Liam said suddenly, surprising even himself.

Yuki turned to look at him, his eyes searching Liam’s face for something unspoken.

“…I know,” Yuki finally said. “You always were.”

And just like that, something shifted—something unspoken but understood.

Yuki leaned back, resting on his elbows as he looked out over the horizon.

“You know,” Yuki said, smirking just slightly, “I was really tempted to make you ride the moped instead.”

Liam burst out laughing, the tension breaking completely.

“I would’ve murdered you,” Liam shot back, nudging Yuki’s shoulder.

Yuki grinned, and for the first time in what felt like forever, it actually reached his eyes.

–

Yuki watched as Liam laughed, the sound ringing out like music, and for a brief moment, Yuki couldn’t help but think about how much things had changed between them. How much Liam had changed.

The Liam he used to know had always been the lanky, quick-footed kid, with a wide grin and sharp eyes. He used to be all wiry muscles and endless energy, always cracking jokes and never staying still. But now, sitting next to him, Yuki could see how much more solid Liam had become. There was a weight to him now—his shoulders broader, his chest a bit wider, the muscles on his arms defined even through the simple t-shirt he wore. Yuki found himself glancing over, just for a second, before quickly looking away.

It wasn’t just his body. It was how Liam moved now—more controlled, more sure of himself. The reckless energy that used to make him seem like he was always on the edge of falling apart had been replaced by something steadier, something deeper. There was a quiet confidence in the way Liam held himself now, as though he was no longer trying to outrun everything.

Yuki couldn't help but notice it—notice him.

The way Liam's eyes crinkled at the edges when he smiled, or how his lips curved into that smirk Yuki used to know so well. And those eyes... They used to be full of mischief and youth, but now, they were different. There was something in them—something Yuki couldn’t quite place but that he knew was there.

It made Yuki’s chest tighten in a way he wasn’t used to.

He glanced at Liam again, just for a moment, catching a look in Liam’s eyes that was almost unreadable, but definitely not the same as before. It was like there was a quiet curiosity there, something that hadn’t been present when they were younger.

And suddenly, Yuki became painfully aware of how close they were, the way their shoulders brushed as they sat next to each other on the grassy hilltop.

He hadn’t meant to, but he let his gaze drift again. He caught the way the sunlight seemed to highlight the contours of Liam’s jawline, the way his chest rose and fell as he laughed, and he felt an unexpected flutter in his stomach. Yuki’s heart skipped a beat, and he quickly turned his head, looking out at the sunset.

“Stop staring,” he muttered under his breath, but even as he said it, he knew that wasn’t really the problem.

He was aware.

Too aware.

It was strange—having Liam so close, knowing that the boy he used to know so well had changed, and yet still carried some pieces of the past with him. Yuki wasn’t sure how to reconcile the way things were now with the way they used to be.

But one thing was clear: There was something different between them now. Something neither of them had quite addressed, but it was there, just beneath the surface, lurking.

Yuki knew that the look Liam had given him earlier hadn’t been just friendly—it had been something else. Something more.

And as much as Yuki tried to push it away, he couldn’t ignore it. He couldn’t pretend it didn’t affect him, because it did. It affected him more than he cared to admit.

So, he did what he always did when things got complicated—he buried it.

“Alright, alright,” Yuki said, clearing his throat and looking at Liam with a teasing grin. “Enough with the sappy looks, yeah? You’re ruining the sunset for me.”

Liam laughed again, but this time there was a hint of something else in his voice—something Yuki couldn’t place, but that sent a flicker of warmth straight to his chest.

Maybe he wasn’t the only one feeling the shift.

–

The night was thick with unspoken words, the air heavy with something neither of them wanted to name. Okinawa’s quiet buzz seemed to fade into the background as Liam and Yuki sat in the small, dimly lit living room. Everything about the evening felt too real—too final. Tomorrow, Liam would be leaving. He would be back in Austria, back in the factory, preparing for the second half of the Formula 1 season. Yuki, once again, would be left alone, facing the emptiness of his quiet life.

But tonight was the last night. The final night they had together before things went back to how they had always been. It should have been easy—comfortable. They had known each other for years. They should have been able to slip back into their old dynamic. But the silence between them was loud, and the weight of all that had passed between them, all that had been unsaid, sat in the room like an elephant.

Liam stood by the window, his back to Yuki, staring out at the night. He didn’t know what to say. What could he say? His mind was a whirl of thoughts—of memories and the electric tension that had been building between them for years. It was maddening, this distance between them. So much time spent pushing it away, hiding from it. And now, with so little time left, he was struggling to breathe.

Yuki, on the other hand, had been quiet too long. His eyes, which had once been playful, mischievous even, now seemed faraway—guarded, like something was holding him back. But tonight, Yuki knew. He couldn’t stay quiet anymore. The ache in his chest, the longing, the hurt—it was too much. The time they had shared here, these stolen moments, had awakened something in him that he couldn’t ignore.

Yuki stood up abruptly, his movements sharp and decisive. He crossed the room in two long strides, his heart pounding in his chest. Without thinking, he reached for Liam, his hand cupping his face. And then, in a moment of utter recklessness, he kissed him.

It was sudden—unplanned, an impulsive act born of frustration, of desire, of the overwhelming pull between them. It was a clash of lips, a rush of heat, of something that had been building for so long that neither of them could hold it back any longer.

Liam froze for a fraction of a second, his mind scrambling to catch up, to make sense of it. But then it was as if something clicked inside him. He kissed Yuki back, his hands moving to Yuki’s waist, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. Yuki’s body was warm, so warm, his lips soft but insistent, as if he had been waiting for this moment, too.

It wasn’t perfect, and it certainly wasn’t careful. The kiss was messy, chaotic, as if their bodies were trying to make up for lost time. Yuki's fingers threaded through Liam’s hair, tugging him closer, and for a brief moment, the world outside ceased to exist. It was just them, tangled together, caught in the rush of something neither of them was ready for but both had wanted for far too long.

Yuki’s hands slipped under Liam’s shirt, feeling the heat of his skin beneath his fingertips. He groaned softly, his fingers brushing against the hard muscles of Liam’s torso, each touch sending sparks through him. He wanted more—he needed more. Liam’s body was real, solid, and alive beneath his touch. And Yuki couldn’t stop himself, couldn’t stop the way his body reacted to Liam’s.

Liam’s hands moved quickly, almost desperately, tugging at Yuki’s shirt, pulling it off over his head. The moment the fabric came off, Yuki’s tattoos were revealed. The intricate designs stretched across his body like a map of his past—motorsport-related ink, logos of cars he had once driven, and delicate cherry blossoms that symbolized his Japanese roots. Liam’s eyes widened, taking in the sight of Yuki’s body—of the tattoos that marked him as his own, as someone who had lived a life far beyond the simple confines of this small island.

Yuki watched the way Liam’s gaze lingered on his body, the intensity in his eyes making him feel exposed. But it was a good kind of exposure. It was the kind of vulnerability that felt like freedom, the kind that told him that he didn’t have to hide anymore.

Liam’s hands roamed down Yuki’s back, and the touch sent a shiver down his spine. His body reacted to the pressure of Liam’s fingers, his breath coming faster as they stumbled toward the bedroom. It was like they couldn’t get there fast enough, as if the distance between them wasn’t enough. Liam was pulling him closer, urging him forward, until finally, they fell onto the bed in a tangle of limbs.

Yuki didn’t hesitate. He kissed Liam again, deeper this time, pulling him closer, feeling the heat of his body. Liam responded with equal intensity, his hands roaming across Yuki’s skin as if trying to memorize every inch of him. They were both lost in the kiss, in the sensation of their bodies colliding, of finally being able to touch, to feel, to express everything they had hidden for so long.

Liam pulled away for a breath, his chest heaving as he looked down at Yuki. His eyes were dark with desire, and Yuki could see the storm brewing inside him. But there was something else there too—a softness, a tenderness that took Yuki by surprise. Liam wasn’t just here for the heat of the moment. He was here, with Yuki, because something deeper had been awakened.

Yuki pulled him back down, not wanting to break the contact. He didn’t want to stop. He wanted to feel Liam’s hands on him, his lips on his skin, forever. But before they could continue, Yuki paused, his breath coming in shallow gasps.

“Liam,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I can’t keep pretending. Not anymore.”

Liam looked at him, confusion flickering in his eyes, but Yuki could see the understanding in them too. He could feel it in the way their bodies were pressed together, in the way the air between them had shifted. They were no longer just friends, no longer just two people sharing a space. They were something more. And for the first time in a long time, Yuki didn’t want to run away from it.

He kissed Liam again, pulling him back into the abyss, into the overwhelming tide of desire and longing that had been building for years. Neither of them had the strength to fight it anymore.

They tumbled into the night, their bodies tangled together, lost in each other. Yuki’s hands roamed over Liam’s body, feeling the rough edges of muscle and skin, tracing the lines that had hardened over the years. His fingers traced the scars and the tattoos, feeling the marks that told the story of Liam’s life. And Liam, in turn, explored every inch of Yuki’s body, his touch tender but insistent.

For the first time, there were no barriers between them. No hesitation. No walls. Just two bodies, entwined, the bared skin intertwined with the tattoo-covered one, falling into the abyss of everything they had been hiding for so long.

And as they kissed, as they gave in to the heat between them, Yuki knew—this wasn’t just a goodbye. It was the beginning of something new. Something neither of them had ever expected, but both had needed all along.

Their bodies moved together, a symphony of passion and need, and neither of them was willing to stop until the world outside no longer existed. Until all that remained was this—this moment, this feeling, this connection that neither of them could deny.

–

The room was still, save for the occasional sound of the wind brushing against the windows. The night had fallen deeper, the only light now a faint glow from the streetlights outside. The chaos of earlier had subsided, leaving an overwhelming sense of peace.

Liam and Yuki lay tangled beneath the soft, worn blanket, their bodies spent and warm. They had cleaned up, both moving in quiet synchrony as if they were scared that even the slightest movement might break the delicate air between them. But now, in the aftermath, all that remained was the comfort of being close.

Liam lay behind Yuki, his chest pressed gently against Yuki's back, his arm draped across his side. Yuki’s body, small but firm, fit perfectly against him. He could feel Yuki’s breath, steady and deep, as if he were still processing everything that had just happened. Liam closed his eyes for a moment, his hand unconsciously moving up and down Yuki’s arm, soothing and rhythmic.

For the first time in what felt like forever, the weight of everything—the miles, the months apart, the years of unspoken words—seemed to lift. In this small moment, everything felt right. The reality of the night had settled, and now there was only silence. The comfortable kind, the kind that allowed both of them to exist without the need for words.

But the silence between them grew too heavy, and Liam could no longer ignore the turmoil swirling in his chest. He needed to say it. He needed to speak his truth. He had never been good at these kinds of moments, the delicate ones where emotions ran deeper than anything he had ever known.

With a deep breath, Liam shifted just slightly, his face burying itself into the crook of Yuki's neck. He inhaled deeply, the scent of Yuki’s skin mingling with the fresh scent of the ocean breeze that lingered in the room. He let his breath steady, his hand gently brushing against Yuki’s side.

“Yuki,” Liam began, his voice softer than usual. “I don’t think you understand what this—what tonight—means to me.” He hesitated, feeling his heart beat faster, like a racing car ready to take off. “I don’t know how to explain it, but I feel like everything is different now. Everything we’ve been pretending—it’s like we’ve both been running from it. From what we really feel.”

Yuki remained quiet for a moment, and Liam wasn’t sure if he was listening or if the words had startled him. But then Yuki shifted, rolling just enough so that his back was to Liam, his face half hidden in the pillow. But Liam could feel the tension in his shoulders, the way he stiffened as if he was bracing himself for something.

“I think I’ve known for a long time,” Yuki said quietly, his voice low but steady. “But... I’ve been scared. Scared to admit it. Because if I do, it means things can never go back to how they were. And part of me... part of me doesn’t know if I can handle that.”

Liam’s heart skipped a beat. He had been so caught up in his own thoughts, his own feelings, that he hadn’t stopped to consider Yuki’s fears. He could feel the uncertainty in Yuki’s words, and it hit him hard. The truth was, neither of them had ever been good at confronting what they really felt. They had danced around it, pretended it didn’t matter.

Liam reached out, his hand settling gently on Yuki’s waist, pulling him a little closer. His touch was soft, almost reverent. “Yuki, I...” He didn’t know how to continue. The words felt too big to fit into the space between them, but he couldn’t back down now. “I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to go back to the way things were before. I can’t.”

There was a long pause, one that stretched on for what felt like an eternity. The weight of their unspoken truths hung in the air, thick with the things they hadn’t said. Yuki was still, but Liam could feel the faint tremor in his body. He could sense that Yuki was processing everything, considering the weight of Liam’s confession, his own feelings.

Yuki finally turned in his arms, his face now fully visible, his expression unreadable but gentle. “I don’t know what to do with this,” he whispered. “With us. I’ve always thought of you as my best friend. But this... this is different.”

Liam's thumb brushed gently against Yuki's skin, his gaze locked on his eyes. “It’s okay,” he said softly. “We don’t have to figure everything out right now. But I can’t go back to pretending I don’t care. Not after tonight. Not after everything we’ve shared.”

Yuki’s eyes softened, and for a moment, Liam thought he might say something more. But instead, Yuki closed the gap between them, his lips pressing against Liam’s in a quiet kiss. It wasn’t desperate like the first, but it was still full of the same urgency, the same emotion. Yuki’s lips were soft against his, and as they kissed, Liam felt everything they hadn’t said—everything they had been too scared to admit—finally begin to unravel.

When they pulled away, there was an understanding between them. Unspoken, but clear. They didn’t need to have all the answers. They didn’t need to figure out the future right now. But tonight, here, in this small bed, in the comfort of the warmth they had created together, they could simply be.

Liam’s hand moved to Yuki’s cheek, his thumb brushing over his skin, his heart full of something he couldn’t name, but it felt like home. “I’m not going anywhere, Yuki,” Liam whispered, his voice full of sincerity. “Not if you don’t want me to.”

Yuki’s gaze softened, his hand resting over Liam’s chest, where his heartbeat was still racing. “I don’t know what tomorrow holds, Liam,” he said quietly. “But for tonight... I’m here. With you. And that’s enough.”

And with that, they lay there, wrapped in the comfort of each other’s arms, knowing that whatever came next, they had taken the first step. Together.

–

The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting soft beams across the room. The air felt different today—more fragile, like it was holding its breath. The events of the night before seemed to have changed everything, though neither of them had spoken much about it in the hours that followed. Now, as the sun rose higher, it was time to face the reality of the inevitable. Liam had to leave. The season would continue, and he had commitments to fulfill in Europe.

Yuki was already up, packing a small bag with a few things, his movements deliberate but slower than usual. He seemed lost in his thoughts, his gaze distant as he folded clothes into his suitcase. Liam watched him from the bed, lying on his back, arms behind his head. He didn’t know what to say. The words felt inadequate, but he knew this moment had to come.

The silence was heavy, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was the kind of silence that lingered when two people had finally come to terms with what they felt but didn’t yet know how to say it out loud.

After a while, Yuki turned toward him, his expression unreadable, but there was a softness in his eyes. “I’ll walk you to the airport,” Yuki said quietly, breaking the silence.

Liam nodded, sitting up and running a hand through his hair. “Thanks, Yuki.” His voice was thick with emotion, but he couldn’t help it. Saying goodbye always felt like an impossibility, especially now. Not when everything had changed.

The drive to the airport was quiet, the hum of the motorcycle engine beneath them the only sound as they made their way through the streets of the small island. Yuki’s leather jacket fluttered slightly in the wind, and for the briefest moment, Liam wondered if they could just drive forever—if they could escape the reality that was waiting for them on the other side.

When they arrived, Yuki parked the bike and turned off the engine, the soft clink of the key as he pulled it from the ignition ringing in the still air. Neither of them spoke immediately, both of them knowing the end was near. It was the kind of goodbye that neither of them was ready for.

They stood for a moment, the silence between them now a heavy weight that neither wanted to carry. Liam’s chest tightened, the realization that this was the last time he would see Yuki for a while settling deep within him. His hand instinctively reached out, and before he could stop himself, he pulled Yuki into a tight hug.

Yuki’s arms wrapped around him just as quickly, and for a moment, neither of them moved. The world around them felt far away, like nothing existed except the two of them in that single embrace. Liam could feel Yuki’s heart beating against his chest, steady and strong, and it gave him the strength he needed to say the words that had been swirling in his mind all morning.

“I’ll miss you,” Liam whispered, his voice thick. “I don’t know when I’ll see you again, but I’ll make sure to contact you. I promise.”

Yuki pulled back just slightly, his hands on Liam’s shoulders, eyes meeting his with a softness that made Liam’s heart ache. “I’ll miss you too,” Yuki said, his voice steady, but there was a trace of something deeper in his words. “We’ll figure it out. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

Liam chuckled softly, though it felt like it was born out of nerves more than humor. “You better not. I don’t know if I could handle that.”

Yuki smiled, a small, knowing smile that made Liam’s chest tighten. “We’ll see each other again. When the time is right.”

Liam nodded, swallowing down the lump in his throat. He had to let go, he knew that. But it didn’t make it any easier. He took a deep breath and offered Yuki a small smile, trying to mask the feeling that threatened to overwhelm him.

“You better take care of yourself, Yuki,” Liam said quietly. “Promise me you won’t work yourself too hard. I don’t want you burning out on me.”

Yuki raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a smirk. “You’re one to talk. You drive race cars for a living. Don’t tell me you’re not pushing yourself to the limit every single day.”

Liam laughed softly, his hand resting briefly on Yuki’s arm. “Touché. I guess we both have our ways of taking things too far.”

Yuki’s expression softened again, and he placed a hand on Liam’s chest, just over his heart. “Take care, Liam. I’ll be here, waiting for when the time comes to see you again.”

Liam smiled, his throat tightening once more. He stepped back, picking up his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. He had to go now. He didn’t want to drag it out any longer than necessary.

But before he could turn to walk into the airport, Yuki’s voice stopped him. “Hey, Liam.”

He turned, looking back over his shoulder at Yuki.

“You’re always welcome here,” Yuki said with a slight nod, the weight of his words settling between them. “No matter where you go. Just remember that.”

Liam’s heart swelled, and without thinking, he crossed the small distance between them and pulled Yuki into another quick hug, holding him tightly for just a moment longer. He could feel Yuki’s warmth, his steady heartbeat, and for a brief second, he wished they could freeze this moment in time.

“I’ll be back,” Liam said, his voice resolute.

Yuki didn’t respond with words, but instead, gave him a small smile, the kind that spoke volumes more than any sentence ever could. The promise was made, not with grand gestures, but with the quiet understanding between them.

As Liam turned and walked toward the airport, he didn’t look back, but the weight of Yuki’s presence lingered with him. He knew, deep down, that this wasn’t goodbye. It was simply the beginning of something they had both been too afraid to admit.

And when the time came, they would find their way back to each other. They had to. Because this—what they shared—was too real to let slip away.

[thedissonantverses]

Okay I forgot I had something that fit lmao. Here ya go im gonna cheat a bit. This is from my long fic Today Could Be the Last. I posted Chapter 13 today and I'm really excited aboout it!

Scene set post-Treviso:

She hated the Lighthouse, if only for it having the loudest silence she had ever known. Something always seemed to be itching at the back of her ear, begging to be heard. Rook could feel the pain emanating off Lucanis, though he didn’t so much as raise his voice. That was worse.

“I do want to finish this, Rook.”

Rook leaned against the wall. “I understand if I’ve lost your trust.”

He finally turned to her. “That’s not how…I’m…”

“Let me earn it back. I want to find a way. There’s more work to do in-”

Lucanis held up a hand. “Please that’s not necessary. Viago and Teia told me the work you’ve done already. That’s why I’ve returned.”

His eyes flashed purple. “You. Hurt.”

“Spite! I didn’t do it on purpose. I didn’t know-”

His voice pitched to a shout, and he stepped forward. “YOU! HURT!”

“Lucanis! Listen to me!” She pleaded. It wasn't enough. Their hands, his hands, reach for her throat. 

“Hey! That’s enough!”

“Sihu!”

“Rook!”

A cacophony as someone stepped in between them. Davrin, in a voice she’d only heard him reserve for monsters.

“Back off! Touch her and you’re dead!”

He still only had his training sword. Lucanis/Spite seemed to be wrestling for control. Taash was a step behind.

“Take Rook and go. I’ve got this.”

Davrin gestured for her to walk ahead of him, and they went up to her room. She started shaking then. She didn’t think Spite would have actually hurt her, but the look on Lucanis’ face…the blight. She started pacing as soon as Davrin closed the door. He leaned against the wall, arms folded.

“You alright?”

Rook’s voice cracked. She laughed but it sounded hollow even to her.

“No. No I’m not alright.”

He hummed in agreement. “When was the last time you slept Sy?”

She looked at the toy griffon, at its place by the glass. She didn’t answer, continuing her pacing.

“You need to get out for a day or two. You need a break. You’re going to crack.” His voice was calm. For some reason that made her angrier.

“I don’t have time.” Rook threw her hands up.

Davrin just looked at her, arching his brows. She exhaled hard.

“What the gods did to Treviso…I have to make it’s right. It was my fault. Me! If I can’t-”

“You will. We’ve got a team. We’ve got a plan. Once Antoine and Evka get back to us…You have time. You need to take it.”

Rook sighed, resting her hands on the back of the green couch. “I need to talk to Lucanis-”

“If he can’t control that thing I have to-”

She caught it. The slight crack in his voice. She whipped her head around.

“No. I make that call. You have to let me make that call.”

Davrin growled. “He could kill you next time. I won’t let that happen.”

“He won’t. You need to trust me on this. Give him a chance.”

He looked down at his feet, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He sighed.

“Fine. If you promise to come with me to Arlathan day after tomorrow. I want to take Assan for another walk.”

He looked up at her, smiling. Rook felt her lips twitch.

“It’s a date.”

They held each other’s gaze a moment too long. She felt the heat rush up her neck, but she held her ground. He straightened slowly. He still didn’t look away.

“Right. I think I like the sound of that.” He grinned.

Her stomach flipped. Davrin cleared his throat and turned away.

“Take a nap. Promise not to kill Lucanis while you’re sleeping.”

Rook snorted and watched him walk away, heart hammering in her ears. He turned back to look at her when he got to the door. His voice was mock stern despite his smile never fading.

“I mean it. Go to sleep. Just for an hour. For me.”

He winked. Then he was gone, and it was just her and the fish.

Writing Challenge

Alright now that I was both sincere and pedantic(warned y’all I’m almost always both) here’s your writing challenge for the day. Don’t forget there’s no time limit to these, if you find it in a month I’ll still reblog it. I’ll take pretty much any BW fic not just DA. Reblog, tag, or link me!! My ask box is always open as are my DM’s! Without further ado:

I want flirty dialogue without physical touch OR flirty touch without dialogue.

OR OR

If romance like that isn’t your thing I want angst. Give me the longing. Give me the hurt/comfort. I yearn for yearning. Emotional distress???? I love that shit. I’m leaving this one wide open. Bonus points if you manage both categories. Look for mine later.

[humorous-individual]

V1 is definitely the kinda guy to just curl up like a beetle before writhing around after you poke it to see if it's actually dead.

Bonus doodle below (guess who I draw more)

[oceanwithouthermoon]

i need to compile a list of scenes that wouldnt make sense if saiki wasnt telepathically speaking in them because people directly respond to what he "thinks", because its actually starting to piss me off how many people insist that he doesnt talk to his friends at all