#They make each other happy and I love that for them

[satorhime]

୨୧ㅤִㅤׄ COUGH SYRUP ― GOJO SATORU.

satoru is a bit of an idiot who will do anything to get you to speak to him after an argument.

𓈒 ݁ ₊ content ﾉ fem reader, clingy satoru, established relationship, mild argument, fluff, not proofread, randomly started missing my boy :( <3

satoru can’t function when you’re upset with him. 

he knows he should be an adult about it — he is an adult, after all. he should give you space, let you simmer down. most people do not do things such as send one hundred and fifty text messages (he counted each of ‘em; you left him on read one hundred and fifty two times. who does that?) to your phone while you’re in the middle of grocery shopping and they most definitely do not take a sick day because their significant other is mad at them. 

 but then again, satoru isn’t like most people. 

which is why he’s currently sprawled out on the sofa in the middle of the day, wrapped in your favorite throw blanket — one that still smells faintly of your perfume. tissues litter the coffee table and floor around him, an unconvincing movie set of misery. call him manipulative, but it’s the only thing he’s got left in the tank since, for the last seventy-two hours, you haven’t spoken more than five words in a sentence to him. 

you’re his main source of enrichment, his brain stimulated by your sweet kisses and good loving so when you take that away, you’re stripping away his heart and soul. he’s got nothing left. he might as well die.  

in satoru’s brain, he figures that surely, if he’s coughing up a lung, you’ll feel bad for him and start talking to him again. in sickness and in health, right? 

by the time you walk through the front door after making a quick run to the supermarket for groceries, he’s in full performance mode, clutching his stomach with a groan. 

the sound is so realistic that you feel a sudden stab of worry, wondering if he’s injured. rushing into the living room, you find all six foot three of your boyfriend balled up on the sofa, looking like walking death. 

or trying to, anyway. 

“satoru?” you ask, eyebrows arching as you set your grocery bags down on the floor, taking out your phone and glancing at the time on the lockscreen. “why are you home? it’s eleven am.” 

“baby,” he groans pitfully, looking up at you. his glacier blue eyes are red rimmed and shimmering suspiciously — like he squeezed them shut repeatedly until he got the desired effect. satoru sniffles for good measure, huddling into the blanket. “i’m sick,” he announces, his lower lip wobbling, dragging out the last syllable like it physically hurts him to say it. 

“sick? you seemed fine when i left this morning,” you say, taking a step forward. you reach out a hand, pushing back his wintery locks to check for a fever. his skin feels normal, cool to touch even. your eyes narrow. you’re dubious — satoru never gets sick, yet it is his favorite act whenever he’s in the doghouse and wants attention. that, and he’s a terrible actor. you purse your lips, irritated. this is what he does instead of just apologizing? 

“i wasn’t fine emotionally,” satoru whines back. “i’m heartbroken here. it’s debilitating my health rapidly.” 

your expression doesn’t budge and satoru’s pout deepens when he realizes you’re not buying it. he clutches the blanket tighter around his big body, exaggerating a shiver for good measure. “you’re my life force, angel. my happiness. my —”

“stop it,” you interrupt and hold up a hand, fighting the smile tugging at your lips. you’re mad at him — you are. “but let me get this straight. you called out of work because i wasn’t talking to you?” 

“it was a medical emergency. do you have any idea what it’s like to go hours without hearing you voice?! without seeing you smile at me? you wouldn’t even let me use your body wash last night so we could share the same scent. i barely survived the night. any longer and i’d be a goner,” he sighs dramatically, then remembers he’s supposed to be on his last leg and hacks, phlegm rattling in his throat. 

“you’re obsessed,” you pinch the bridge of your nose, trying to hold firm. but your damned heart has selective memory and it is making an appearance again, rapidly forgetting why you’re still mad at him. oh, you had a right to be upset over what he did, but it seems insignificant now when he’s in front of you, groveling like a servant at a throne. 

“angel, come on,” he presses, sitting up on the sofa and reaching for your hand, hurt flashing bright across his eyes when you step out of range. if you let him pull you down on that sofa with him, he’ll sweet talk his way into you forgiving him without consequences. he’ll do that anyway, but you won’t make it easy for him. “i’ll do anything to make it right.” 

“don’t angel me. you can’t just manipulate me into forgiving you with your big pretty eyes,” you wag your finger at him. “i bet you don’t even know what you did.” 

“i know, but it’s working, ain’t it?” he grins, shamelessly dropping the congested tone in his voice. “and i know what i did,” he scoffs. “you’re mad at me about that thing.” 

yes, that thing.

two nights ago, your body pillow — your very expensive, weighted body pillow which happened to have a giant render of your boyfriend on it, went missing. you’d commissioned it to have something to cuddle with on those nights when satoru is away on business and you miss him in your shared bed an unhealthy amount. you’d become a little too attached to it, though, while satoru wanted nothing more than to burn it. 

“he has a name,” you hiss, swatting satoru’s knee as you struggle not to laugh. “don’t call mr. comf-toru-ble a thing! he’s sensitive.” 

“see?” satoru says, scrubbing a hand over his handsome face before gesturing around wildly. “you even named it.” 

you give him a sharp look. “he cost me an entire paycheck— an entire paycheck that three days ago, you gave to the garbage collectors because i was cuddling him instead of you!” 

“i was feeling neglected!” he defends, voice pitching higher in his affront, placing a hand on his chest. “you spent the whole night with it. meanwhile, i— your husband— was right there, cold and alone. i can’t let me steal my wife.”

“we’re not married, satoru,” you remind him, then pout. “unlike my husband, the pillow doesn’t hog the covers, snore, or throw out things that i really like.” 

“it’s not hogging the covers, it’s redistribution of them for my comfort,” he grins playfully, but upon seeing your serious expression, he concedes, sobering up. in truth, he knows he messed up and went too far. it was childish to throw out something that you bought because of his frequent bouts of absence. maybe if he was around more, you wouldn’t need to cuddle with body pillows that look like him. “look, baby. i’m sorry. it was a moment of weakness. it’s not everyday i gotta be in competition with myself, but i’ll make it up to you! i even ordered you another one.” 

“a moment of jealousy, you mean,” you counter, but there’s no real bite behind your tone now.

“hey, you gotta see it from my perspective though. it’s kind of crazy seeing you cuddle with a pillow that looks like me when the real thing is right here,” satoru gestures down the long line of his body, though it looks more comical than inviting when he’s wrapped like a overstuffed burrito in your throw blanket.

“mm,” you nod, “well, maybe if the ‘real thing’ is a good boy, i’ll cuddle him more often.” 

“deal,” he answers immediately and when his muscular arms shoot out from behind the blanket and reach for you this time, you let him. his arms circle around your waist, pulling you into his lap. it was just a few days of silent treatment, but satoru wastes no time tucking his face against the dip of your neck, breathing in your sweet scent like you’re something precious and rare he lost ages ago and is just discovering again after eons. 

he’s squishing you, he knows it, but god he hates it when you’re mad at him — and you, in return, hate being at odds with him too. you both make too much sense to each other to be apart, and there’s upset in the balance of the world when the two of you are in an argument. 

“worst seventy-two hours of my life,” satoru blows out a breath of relief, the air tickling the hair at the nape of your neck, drawing a shiver down your spine. “never do that to me again, angel. you hear?” 

“don’t throw out my customized satoru merch again and i won’t, baby,” you coo, smiling. 

“you’ll still choose me over the other guy though, right?” 

“we’ll see, ‘toru, we’ll see,” you answer playfully, yelping when he darts in to nip at your ear in retaliation.

getting comfortable in satoru’s lap, you lean in to put the both of you out of your miseries and forgive him with a kiss when you get a whiff of menthol and childhood memories wafting from his chest.

 “are you wearing vaporub?”

[vettelsvee]

SÍ... ESTAMOS SALIENDO | Oscar Piastri

Oscar Piastri x Pérez!Reader

SUMMARY: Scared of everyone to find out, Y/N Pérez and Oscar Piastri decide to hide their relationship from everyone until Checo starts wondering how Piastri learnt to speak Spanish so good... and specially why he has a Mexican accent ↳ REQUESTED BY ANON: Maybe one were she is checos daughter and they hide their relationship from him. And also maybe she teaches oscar some Spanish. At the end they end up telling checo about their relationship

WORD COUNT: 2399

WARNINGS: Use of Spanish. Important to say that even Spanish is my mother tongue, I may have some mistakes because it is Mexican Spanish and I don't know much about it, so I had to do some research. Otherwise, mentions of unwanted pregnancy, unprotected sex, drugs and alcohol

TAGLIST: @hc-dutch @raavadakedavra @coffeedestroyingperson @evey-kuznetskova @bowielovesyou @chaoswithus @isotopemylove @iceman-kazansky @gwginnyweasley @formula1-motogpfan @myescapefromthislife @regalbanshee [in case you wanna be tagged just tell me so i can add you!]

VEE'S NOTES: Not writing related but I’m obsessed with a K-Drama I started watching yesterday and I just wanna write Come What May series since the main characters’ personalities are the same as Seb and Y/N (Di in case you read the OC Version) there lmao. Anyways, missed a lot writing about Oscar (I definitely will be writing about him more as he's my second fave on the current grid) and this one got me so happy with how it turned out! Hope you like it as well, and remember that I'd love to see your comments <3 ↳ MAKE YOUR REQUESTS | LET'S TALK! | JANUARY UPDATE CALENDAR

© VETTELSVEE (2025). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

“What if you taught me some Spanish?”

“Sorry, what did you just say?”

“That's it, Y/N. Teach me some Spanish.”

You, completely absorbed in looking at the pictures you had taken during the date you had with your boyfriend that same day, lifted your gaze from your phone and raised an eyebrow, fully taken aback by Oscar's proposal.

“Spanish? You? You already speak English! English is the only language that matters to you all…”

Oscar shrugged, nervously playing with the steering wheel. At that moment, he reconsidered what he had said, unsure now, and realized that maybe it had been a somewhat strange proposal on his part.

“I just want to understand you when you talk to your dad or your family. I know no one knows we’re together yet, but sometimes when you do video calls with them, I feel a bit lost. I also feel like sometimes you talk about me, and I’d like to know if I should worry,” he confessed, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.

“And why do you assume we talk about you, huh?”

“Well, because you always look at me out of the corner of your eye when you do.”

You couldn’t help but smile at how cute he looked with that unnecessary concern.

“Why do you have to be so chismoso?” You said, making Oscar give you a little tap on the shoulder. That just made you laugh more. “Alright, alright, fine! But I warn you in advance: if you laugh at me speaking Spanish or don’t take me seriously, I’ll break up with you.”

What started as a completely random proposal, with little prospect of a future or sense at first, eventually became one of your favorite routines. You took advantage of every moment together to practice, always hiding it from Checo or any member of the Pérez family when you were in the paddock. Moreover, whenever you were in your respective countries, you would watch Mexican movies and TV shows, and also some in their original version with English subtitles. You even started sending each other the occasional message in Spanish, thanks to the Australian’s initiative.

Oscar seemed to have, in your eyes, a natural talent for languages. Not only did he manage to learn greetings and basic words in less than a week, but after a month, he was already making the effort to use your Mexican accent and even incorporating words that seemed exclusive to your family’s vocabulary.

And that was exactly what, a few months later, turned into a real nightmare for the secrecy with which you kept your relationship.

While no one knew you were together as a couple, Oscar and you pretended to be just friends when you were in public. That’s why it was completely normal for Checo Pérez to see his daughter with the Australian, having coffee and chatting animatedly after a press conference.

“¡Buenos días, Checo!” Oscar said in almost perfect Spanish. “¿Cómo va, papá?”

You, hearing that last word, spat out the little coffee you had left in your mouth and opened your eyes, completely surprised. Checo, however, made a face and a frown, questioning his daughter’s friend.

“What did you say?” You asked, though you knew perfectly well that what your boyfriend had just said was something you hadn’t taught him, and he’d probably heard it from you.

“Well… ¿Cómo va, papá?” the guy repeated innocently. “Did I say it right?”

“Papá?” repeated the Red Bull driver, even more shocked. “Do you even know what that means, kid?”

“It’s an expression, right? Isn’t it like saying buddy?”

Checo stared at him for a few seconds that felt like an eternity to Oscar. Then, he turned his gaze to you, who was pretending to fiddle with your phone to avoid having to face an awkward conversation about why your secret boyfriend had just said that.

“¿Te importaría decirme por qué Oscar habla como tú?” Pérez asked quickly in Spanish, clearly aiming for Oscar not to understand.

“He doesn’t talk like me!” You quickly replied in English. “Oscar has been practicing Spanish, and well… he wants to fit in better so he’s trying. Duolingo isn’t the best app for learning, so he’s been watching YouTube videos... Right, Osc?”

The guy nodded, but that didn’t convince Checo. Still, he didn’t say anything else and, instead, coldly said goodbye to you both.

As soon as he was far enough away not to hear you, you turned to Oscar and started shaking him:

“Of all the things you could say, you call him papá?!”

“I didn’t do it on purpose, babe!” He rushed to reply, feeling bad for you. “I’ve heard it so many times that, well… I just said it without thinking. I honestly didn’t think it was anything bad.”

You huffed, knowing that it wasn’t Oscar’s fault or his curiosity and interest in learning your mother tongue, but yours for not setting boundaries or explaining the meaning of each word, as well as the context in which it should be used or who it was addressed to.

From that moment on, your father started paying more attention. He was an expert in discretion, but you knew him well enough to realize that, since the incident with Oscar, he had become much more alert and interested in you both, especially looking for clear signs that would confirm his suspicions that his daughter was dating one of the newest additions to the grid.

Unfortunately for you and Oscar, the Mexican didn’t need to investigate much, and he only did so for a month to confirm his theories.

During one of the briefings with all the drivers, Checo heard Oscar mumbling an “Órale, wey” followed by some insults in Spanish that you had made up when it had gotten pretty late and everyone was eager to return to their hotel. Also, instead of saying “sorry,” he let out a “¿mande?” which wouldn’t have been strange if he hadn’t continued speaking in English, as if nothing had happened.

You and Oscar seemed unaware of all your slip-ups; on the contrary, feeling like you weren’t arousing anyone’s suspicion, you lowered your guard. Displays of affection in public, though still cautious, became more frequent, especially when Checo wasn’t near you. Or at least, that’s what you thought.

The back of the McLaren garage, just a few meters away from Red Bull’s, as expected, wasn’t the most suitable place.

“We should go somewhere else,” you said softly while nervously fiddling with the collar of your boyfriend's shirt, who had his arm around your waist.

“Why? This place is perfect,” Oscar replied, unconcerned.

“Yeah, sure, perfect for my dad to catch us,” you muttered. “If he already suspects and looks like that doll from the red light, green light game on Squid Game, analyzing us so much to jump on us as soon as he catches us… imagine if he finds us. He’ll kill us, I swear.”

“Come on, Y/N, just try to relax. We’ve got it all under control. Seriously, there’s nothing to worry about, mi amor.”

You blushed at the compliment he had given you in Spanish, and couldn’t help but plant a chaste kiss on his lips, even though everything inside you felt chaotic.

“If you’re trying to convince me that everything’s fine by speaking to me in Spanish, just know that you’re doing it perfectly,” you declared. “But don’t forget, that doesn’t mean I don’t feel a tremendous anxiety and keep thinking that we’re literally one step away from getting caught. Do you know what he could do if he finds out that you and I… that?” You asked hesitantly.

“Is he going to give us a lecture on how we have to stay professional whenever we’re in public? Or is he going to tell me he’ll kill me if I even think about getting you pregnant?”

“He’ll probably make you come home to have lunch with my family and only speak Spanish,” you tried not to laugh but couldn’t help yourself. “And trust me, you don’t want to be in that position because you’ll have all my aunts, and there are quite a few of them, right next to you, asking you some very uncomfortable questions.”

“Then we’ll have to tell him as soon as possible so he can prepare. How about I tell him that I’m absolutely and completely in love with his daughter?”

You shot him a glare, panic flooding your insides at the thought of that happening.

“No, don’t you dare do that, Osc, and especially not here. You have no idea how my dad would react if…”

“Why not?” He interrupted. Then, he stopped, and after a few seconds that felt like an eternity to you, he seemed to finally find the courage to speak: “I could tell him something like… ¡Señor Pérez, estoy saliendo con su hija porque además de ser la mejor mujer de este mundo, me hace la persona más feliz del mundo!”

You couldn’t help but laugh, filled with emotion inside at Oscar’s sweet yet innocent declaration of love aloud.

However, a cough behind you made you snap back to reality.

“Can I know what you’re doing with my daughter, Piastri?”

You both slowly turned around. There, standing before you, was Checo, arms crossed, with a very unfriendly look on his face. You swore that if Oscar walked out of there alive and without a reprimand from your overprotective father, he could do whatever he wanted for the rest of the year.

“Well…” Oscar began, his confidence suddenly disappearing.

“Esto no es lo que parece, te lo juro,” you said in Spanish, trying to calm your father, even though you knew your attempts would be in vain.

“Oh, really?” Checo asked, raising an eyebrow, knowing you were both lying. “Then, what explanation do you have for this kid shouting to the four winds in almost perfect Spanish that he’s in love with you? At least that’s what I understood, if my Spanish doesn’t fail me.”

You were about to reply, but instead, Oscar gently took you by the wrist and stepped forward, surprisingly confident.

“Checo, I’m not playing around. Okay, I was joking about that, but not about what it means… like…” Piastri explained slowly, nerves eating at him as he couldn’t bring himself to look Checo in the face. “Your daughter matters to me, well, like… you know, like a boyfriend cares for his girlfriend.”

Checo tried not to laugh at the declaration of love from the man who had just confirmed he was his son-in-law and did his best to maintain the protective fatherly composure, thinking no guy would ever be good enough for his daughter.

“So you care about my daughter… You, one of my coworkers, a twenty-three-year-old kid, care about my eldest daughter enough to believe you can have a relationship with her…”

“It’s not that I believe it, it’s that I know I do.”

Not only you and Checo were surprised by the boy’s words, but Oscar himself too. He regretted it immediately, but before he could apologize to Checo, the man stepped forward, raising a hand and staring at him:

“So… are you two dating or not?”

“Yes, for almost six months now,” you answered, feeling a knot in your stomach, but much less pressure now that your father knew the truth.

Checo sighed, running a hand over his face as he tried to process the news his daughter, his little girl, had just told him. The girl he knew ever since she was born and now he had to imagine her spending, if not the rest of her life, at least part of it, with another man.

“And why didn’t you tell me before?” Checo asked, his voice tinged with disappointment but also some understanding. “Don’t you trust me?”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you, it’s that I knew you would react badly,” you answered, frustrated. “I trust you, and I know you want to protect me from any guy who could make me feel bad, but you have to understand that I’m twenty years old, and whether you like it or not, I’m not a little girl anymore.”

Checo looked at you and then turned his gaze to Oscar, who had his head down. Besides his nerves being pretty evident, so was his willingness to face any kind of dispute or reprimand from him just to stay with you.

That made Checo feel a bit bad, though it also gave him some relief seeing that the Australian was truly concerned and, why not say it, in love, willing to do anything for his little Y/N.

Finally, he let out a small sigh, trying to calm himself. He repeated your words over and over in his mind before saying anything else because if you had never disappointed him in your life, then he didn’t want to disappoint you just because you were in love.

I’m not a little girl anymore.

“Checo…” Piastri spoke, but Checo raised a finger, silencing him instantly.

“I’m only going to say this once: you better not hurt my daughter, or I’ll hurt you when I kick you off the track or crash into you accidentally. Is that clear?”

Oscar swallowed hard, feeling that Checo wasn’t joking.

“Understood…”

“And as for you,” Checo now spoke to you, completely stunned, “don’t think this is over. Your mother, you, and I will have a conversation about this and several other topics when we get home.”

Unprotected wild sex, alcohol, and drugs, for sure, you thought, forcing a smile to try to hide your worry.

“Now go on and keep loving each other, but be careful where and how you do it. I don’t want to be a grandfather just yet.”

With those words, Checo left, leaving you both.

“Well… now he knows. Finally,” Oscar said, letting out a sigh of relief.

“I told you he was intense. Do you believe me now?”

“Of course, mi amor,” the Australian replied, taking your hand and heading to your room in the McLaren motorhome, so, as Checo had said, you wouldn’t become grandparents just yet. “Your dad scared me, but I’m not going to lie to you, he gave me enough motivation to beat him in every race from now on.”

[hockeyboistrash]

operation get luke a girlfriend | l.h

summary: jack is tired of watching his brother pine over his best friend so he takes matters into his own hands to get you both to admit your feelings for each other. His plan, however, goes horribly wrong.

this idea popped into my and had to write it. I've never written for Luke so I hope I've done it justice. this one has been cooking for a while so I hope you enjoy. This is basically 4.2k words of best friends to lovers.

@star2fishmeg this one's for you 💖

You and Luke were best friends. You would do anything for each other. It could be after midnight but you would still pick Luke up after a roadie. Luke would ditch a game of Chel with his brothers if you were having a bad day, bringing you your favourite food and movies. Whenever asked about it the same three words would be spoken. ‘We’re just friends.’ No one was convinced though, especially Jack. Watching his younger brother pine after his best friend was painful to watch. He wanted nothing more than his brother to be happy. You brought him out of his shell. Luke was quite reserved around people unless you were his family so Jack and Quinn were surprised when he said more than two words to you the first time you met.

It didn’t faze Jack that Luke was dressed up to go to a party, only smirking at him as he got his stuff together. He saw the way your eyes lit up when Luke agreed to go to your party and how his brother bit his lip to try and hide his smile after you hugged him. It was obvious there was something more between the two of you and Jack hoped tonight one of you admits it. 

Luke wasn’t normally one for parties and he has a game tomorrow but when you invited him he couldn’t say no. The party playlist you curated was playing as he slipped into your apartment. It didn’t take long before he heard his name being called from across the room. “Luke! You came!” You shouted, flinging your arms around him while Luke wrapped his arms around your waist instinctively. 

“Of course I came. You asked me to come.” He mumbled, loud enough so only you could hear him. Luke was glad you couldn’t see his face, heat rising to his cheeks. 

“Well I appreciate it.” You told him, your lips tugging into a grin. “Let’s get you a drink.” You said, grabbing his hand and pulling him to the makeshift drinks table. Luke looked down at your intertwined fingers, liking the way it felt. He knew he shouldn’t though because you’re his best friend. Best friends aren’t supposed to miss the feeling of your hand in his when you let go. Luke missed the warmth of your hand in his cold one. He could shove them in his pocket to try and warm them up but he preferred the alternative, holding your hand. “Earth to Luke.” You waved your hand in front of his face, giggling as you brought him out of his inner spiral. 

“Yes. Sorry. Thank you.” Luke stuttered out. 

“Is everything okay?” You asked, eyebrows tugged into a slight frown, worried about him as he was a little distracted. 

“Everything's fine.” He told you, trying to cover up the fact he was thinking about holding your hand again. You weren't convinced though. You've known Luke for a couple of years now and you knew when he wasn't being entirely honest with you. You also know he likes to downplay everything. 

“I know it's easier said than done but you don't have to worry about tomorrow. You're going to defend like hell out there and win.” You said, giving his forearm a comforting squeeze. Luke loves your positivity. It's contagious and never fails to make him feel better. He knows that there's no way the team will win every game but you still tell him he will and he still goes onto the ice with a pep in his step. “Maybe you'll even score a goal.” You winked, your laugh was music to Luke's ears. He could kiss you right now. He wanted to kiss you but there's no way you felt the same about him so he buried those thoughts deep in his mind. He would rather bury his feelings than risk losing his best friend.

Your name was shouted from across the room before Luke could think of a witty comeback. You grabbed his hand and started dragging him with you. Luke’s eyes widened seeing the karaoke set up. “Not gonna happen.” Luke said, shaking his head vehemently. 

“Relax Luke, I wasn’t going to make you sing. I just- This is going to sound dumb.” You started, biting your lip slightly. “Basically I kinda agreed to sing one song on the karaoke machine with Maria but now I’m nervous and, I don’t know, I thought having you there would make it not as bad. It’s dumb I know.” You rambled. 

“It’s not dumb.” Luke mumbled. He was taken aback by your admission. You were one of the most confident people he knew. “I’ll be standing right here, cheering you on.” 

You grinned, thanking him before going over to your friend. She handed you a microphone as the start of the song began playing. Your eyes twinkled as they found Luke in the small crowd of your friends that was gathering. To him, it felt like it was just the two of you in the room. He was so engrossed in your performance that he didn’t notice he wasn’t the only one watching you intently until someone nudged him, his drink spilling over his hand. “They’re amazing aren’t they?” They shouted over the music, gesturing to you at the front of the room. Luke couldn’t quite put his finger on it but there was something about this guy that made his skin crawl. He grunted in agreement hoping he got the hint that he wanted to be left alone until you came back over. He didn’t.

Luke didn’t even get a chance to greet you before the guy next to him did. He didn’t remember you mentioning anything about a new guy in your life. You told each other everything. Your new friends, any potential boyfriends or girlfriends, anything that is going on in your lifes so he was confused when you greeted him. “Luke this is Scott, Scott this is my friend Luke.” 

‘Friend’ That stung a little. Luke wasn’t sure why though because it was true, you are friends yet hearing you introduce him to some guy, who you may or may not be hooking up with, as a friend caused an unfamiliar feeling to bubble inside. 

“I’m gonna head out.” Luke mumbled, leaning down so only you could hear him. He wasn’t in the mood to third wheel which is what it felt like to him. Luke only knew you and your roommate at this party and only came for you. 

“Oh, okay. Let me walk you out.” You said trying to hide the disappointment in your tone. You made the short walk to the front door, handing Luke his coat. “Thank you again for coming. I know you have a game tomorrow so it means a lot that you came.” 

“Of course I came. You asked me to come.” Luke shrugged. He could add so much more, he wanted to in fact yet there was something holding him back, maybe it was the rational side of his brain that knew if he continued speaking it would change everything. He wanted to tell you that he knew coming would make you smile and he loves your smile. He wanted to tell you that he misses you when he’s gone, wanting to spend all the time he could with you. 

“Well, I’ll be there tomorrow night, front row wearing number forty-three.” You told him, your lips turned up into a smile. It was contagious causing Luke’s to do the same. He loved when you wore his jersey. 

“See you tomorrow.” Luke said, giving you a quick hug. You didn’t let go though, leaning up to give him a kiss on the cheek. 

“See you tomorrow, Luke.” You said, turning quickly to the door and heading back inside the party. 

Luke stayed frozen in the hall, staring ahead. He didn’t miss the way Scott was watching the two of you. He must have watched you kiss Luke. You kissed Luke. On the cheek. Something neither of you have done before. The most you have done was hug each other but never kissed. Luke was glad you went back inside so you couldn’t see the blush creeping onto his cheeks. 

Luke wasn’t exactly sure how he made it back to his and Jack’s apartment but he did. It was like he was on autopilot. Locking the door behind him. Slipping his shoes off and hanging his coat up. “Luke?! Is that you?! You’re back early.” Jack called from his spot on the couch where Luke left him earlier in the evening. 

“Y/N kissed me.” Was all Luke said before heading to his room leaving Jack shocked.

“What the fuck.” He mumbled, surprised at his brother's confession. Jack immediately rang Quinn to inform him of the revelation, ignoring the time difference.

“This better be good.” Quinn greeted, sighing at being interrupted and wondering why his brother is still up so late.

“Hello to you too.” Jack said, rolling his eyes. “Thought you’d want to know Y/N kissed Luke.”

“What?!” He shouted down the phone. “Are you sure? When? What?!” Quinn was lost for words. He knew his brother was madly in love with you and that you were madly in love back, anyone with eyes could see that except you two. Their mom also picked up on it. 

“I don’t know. He didn’t elaborate.” Jack said. “It’s time though.”

“Jack, don’t.” Quinn warned, knowing exactly what he was on about. This wasn’t the first time he brought it up but Quinn was insistent that they shouldn’t meddle in their brother’s love life. Jack was bored of waiting for either of you to make the first move and decided to take matters into his own hands.

“Too late. The plan has been made. Operation get Luke a girlfriend is a go.” Jack said, ignoring his brother's concern and hanging up on him. 

-x-

Jack had a plan. It wasn't a great plan and Nico told him that at any opportunity he could. All he could do was shake his head at his teammates' antics knowing that once Jack had an idea there was no way to stop him. 

“We need to somehow find out if Y/N is dating this Scott guy.” Jack said, his voice low in case his brother walked in. They had just finished practice and were sat in their stalls in various states of undress. Jesper and Dawson leant forward, hanging on every word. 

“We could just ask them? Aren't they coming to the game tonight?” Nico suggested while Jack gave him an incredulous look, like that was the craziest idea he's heard. 

“Or we could invite them round to the team party and ask them about how their life is?” Dawson piped up. 

“Yes! That's it!” Jack exclaimed, making Nico roll his eyes because that was basically his idea, just more straightforward. 

“Won't Luke ask Y/N to come?” Nico asked. 

“Nah he's freaking the fuck out that he's ruined their friendship or something.” Jack told them. He finally got it out of his brother what had happened last night. That you were talking to this guy, Scott, and then you kissed him when saying goodbye and then you haven't messaged him about the kiss. Luke was convinced it was the end of the friendship he knew and loved. “So we gotta give them a little push.”

Nico shook his head, getting up to go to the shower just as Luke was coming into the locker room. “This is a terrible idea.” He mumbled, wanting no part of it. 

-x-

Your eyes lit up when you saw Luke leaving the locker room, your lips tugged into a smile just as bright. The Devils had just won so you're not sure why your best friend didn't look his usual happy self after a win. His eyes landed on you, surprised you're here and wearing his jersey. He made his way over to you, his strides large so it didn't take long for him to stand in front of you. 

“You still came?” Luke said, struggling to hide the surprise in his tone. He could feel his finger twitch by his side, the urge to tuck the stray bit of hair behind your ear strong.

“Of course I came. Did you not want me to come?” You asked, worried that you overstepped. You looked down at your shoes, wanting to hide from his gaze. 

“No, no. I'm glad you came. I want you to be here. It's just- I didn't hear from you all day so I didn't know if you were still coming.” Luke stuttered out, hating that the thought of him not wanting you here crossed your mind. “I want you here, Y/N.” He reiterated, silently pleading for you to look at him again. 

“I'm sorry I didn't message you today. I had a little too much to drink after you left and then I didn't wake up until midday. I thought you'd be too busy at that point so I didn't want to bother you.” You admitted, looking back up at him. Luke wanted to tell you that he's never too busy for you. It was on the tip of his tongue but as always his brother has the best timing.

“Y/N!” Jack exclaimed the moment his eyes landed on you. 

“Hey Jack.” You smiled at the older boy. “Great game tonight.”

“Thanks Y/N.” He grinned, not realising he was interrupting something or not caring. “You're coming to the team meal, right?”

“Team meal?” You asked, eyebrows furrowed. You looked at Luke hoping for some clarification.

“I was going to tell you.” He told you, rubbing the back of his neck. “The team is having a little get together next weekend and you're invited if you want to come.” Luke could kill his brother right now. He was going to ask you himself but now he’s worried you're going to think he didn’t want you there. The rational side of him knows he's just overthinking however ever since the kiss his thoughts have been in overdrive.

“I'd love to come. As long as I'm not intruding.” You said, biting your lip slightly, a nervous habit of yours. You always felt a little weird going to team events, official or unofficial ones, as Luke’s plus one because you weren't dating. That fact you were very much aware of. 

“You're not intruding, Y/N. All the guys would love it if you came.” Jack assured you. “Besides, we need someone to keep this guy in check.” He teased earning an eye roll and a playful shove from Luke and a giggle from you. 

“Well I'll be there.” You confirmed. “Do you need me to bring anything?” 

“Oh, errm, I think Cap is sorting all that out so better ask him.” Luke told you, trying to get you to leave for a moment so he could curse his brother out.

“I'll go and do that.” You said, spotting Nico across the corridor. You gave Luke's hand a little squeeze and smiled at him. “I won't be a sec.”

Luke watched you go over to Nico and Dawson, waiting until you were out of an earshot before scowling at his brother. “Why on earth would you mention the dinner when you know I haven't asked them yet.” 

“Didn't know you actually were going to ask them.” Jack shrugged. He was trying to hide the amusement this situation gave him. 

“Well I was and now Y/N's going to think I don't want them there.” He hissed, keeping his voice low so you can't hear them. 

“They're not going to think that.” Jack told his brother even though he knew it was no use. Once Luke had something in his head it was hard to change his mind. “Y/N is in love with you! It's so obvious but you refuse to see it.”

“We're just friends.” Luke insisted, trying to convince himself more than Jack. 

“Friends don't do what Y/N does. Friends don't kiss.” He pointed out. Luke clenched his jaw, trying not to make a scene. That was the last thing he wanted right now. All he wanted was for Jack to shut up, to stop him giving him hope knowing it'd only bring him heartbreak. Luke couldn't handle your rejection. 

“I'm not interrupting am I?” You asked, your smile fell when your gaze landed on Luke. You rarely saw Luke angry. You knew he got angry on the ice but this was different. The last time you saw him like this, eyebrows furrowed and jaw clenched, was at a bar and some creep was hitting on you, not taking no for an answer. 

“Not at all.” Jack said, slightly shaking his head at his brother before walking away, leaving the tension hanging. Luke was about to follow but you grabbed his hand, stopping him in his tracks. 

“Is everything okay?” You asked, willing for Luke to look at you instead of staring ahead. 

“Everything's fine, Y/N.” He hoped you would let it go. The problem with being best friends though is you know when something is wrong. 

“Luke, you don't have to keep things from me. I know something is wrong.” You said, searching his face for any reaction, the silence killing you. “D-did I do something wrong? Please tell me if I did something wrong.” 

“I-I'm sorry.” He had to get out of there. It broke his heart being the cause of your hurt but he didn't want to make things worse. “Jack’s my ride and I-I have to go.” Luke stuttered out before walking away to join his brother. 

“Luke, wait.” You pleaded softly but it was no use. He was gone. You didn't want to cause a scene so you willed the tears that threatened to fall to wait until you got home. 

“You alright, Y/N?” Nico asked, making you jump slightly not realising there were people still in the corridor.

“I'm fine.” You said with a forced smile. Nico saw right through it but he didn't want to bring it up. What he was going to do is kill Jack. He knew it was a terrible idea to interfere with Luke’s love life and now he may have ruined their friendship. “I better go too. Got a lot of work to catch up on. Great game tonight though.” You rushed out before hurrying to your car, wanting to put as much space as possible between you and the arena. 

The moment you got home you made a beeline to your room, ignoring your roommates calls. You threw Luke’s jersey off, the material feeling uncomfortable on your skin. You were spiralling, pacing the room as your mind went over every little detail from the past couple of days. One minute you were discussing summer plans and inviting him round to your party and the next you're kissing him. That's when the realisation hit. 

“You're home early.” Your roommate said, leaning against the doorframe. “Thought you'd be hanging out with Luke tonight.”

“He probably doesn't wanna see me ever again.” You mumbled, face down on your bed. 

“Don't be ridiculous of course he does. You're his best friend.” She sighed, sitting on the edge of your bed. “What happened?” 

“I kissed him last night.” You admitted, biting your lips slightly feeling nervous under your roommate's gaze. “And now I've ruined everything.”

“What makes you say that?” She asked and you told her everything. From the way you felt brave enough to kiss him on the cheek goodbye to not hearing from him all day. Then you told her what had happened at the rink. She listened as you spilled every thought and feeling you had without judgement. She let you get everything off your chest before chiming in. “It sounds to me that Luke is being stupid. He’s so in love with you that it’s kinda sickening sometimes. I swear he’s permanently got heart eyes whenever he sees you. Just give him a little time, you know how in his head he can get.” You nodded, taking in her advice knowing she was right. 

-x-

You weren’t going to come to the team dinner. Even though Luke has apologised for what happened after the game and you were talking again something felt off between you. It was like there was an elephant in the room that neither of you were talking about. Jack had texted you, persuading you to still come and so did Dawson and some of the other guys. That’s why you were standing in front of the door, finding the motivation to knock on the door.

Nico was the first to greet you, answering the door when you finally knocked. He took your coat, hanging it up on the coat rack by the door while you walked down the hallway to the living room where you were met with a chorus of hello’s. 

“Damn, Y/N! Got a hot date after that we don’t know about.” Dawson called from the breakfast bar, a drink in each hand. You couldn’t help but look down at your outfit, feeling a little self conscious. You knew he didn’t mean it in a bad way but now you were worried what you were wearing was a bit much. Luke wanted to assure you it wasn’t too much, that you looked beautiful tonight. Well to him you always did. 

“Nope. No hot date.” You told him, your eyes not leaving Luke as if it was him you were telling. They followed him as he excused himself to the kitchen, not missing the way blush dusted his cheeks. You decided to join him in the kitchen, wanting your best friend back and the only way that would happen is by talking to him. “Hey.” You greeted, making Luke jump slightly.

“Hey.” It was soft, like he didn’t want to ruin the silence. Your eyes raked over him, taking in every detail in case this was the last time you saw him. From his curly hair, which you enjoy running your fingers through, to his hands, which you miss holding.

“Please tell me if I read the situation wrong. That you didn’t want me to kiss you goodbye.” You said, your directness surprising Luke a little. “Because right now I feel like I’ve ruined everything.” You waited for an answer, the silence killing you. Your eyes flickered over Luke’s face looking for any reaction, willing for him to respond, but nothing. 

You took that as your answer, leaving Luke alone in the kitchen and heading out of the front door, grabbing your coat on the way. You didn’t care if everyone saw what happened. At this rate you would never see the team again. You didn’t stick around long enough to hear their concerned questions or to see Luke realise what you were saying.

“Y/N, wait!” Luke called after you, running down the street in a t-shirt and jeans. Even after everything you were concerned he was going to catch a cold or something.

“Luke, what are you doing? Where’s your coat? You’re going to get ill.” You rushed out, fretting over him. He hadn’t even noticed he didn’t grab his coat. That was the last thing on his mind, the first being you.

“I don’t care. I had to catch up with you.” He told you, pulling you to the side so you weren’t in peoples' way. “I’m sorry.”

“Luke-” You sighed but he continued, wanting to get everything off his chest.

“Y/N, I’m sorry I’ve been a shit friend recently. I’ve just been so in my head about everything and that’s not an excuse but I’m sorry. If anyone’s ruined anything it’s me.” Luke rambled. “You kissed me but I thought you were going out with Scott so I tried to put distance between us which was very stupid of me because I realised I hate being apart from you. I liked that you kissed me though.”

“Y-you did?” You asked.

“Yes and I wish I could kiss you back this time.” Luke said, cupping your cheeks with his hands. They were cold but you didn’t mind. It felt natural, like they were where they belonged. “If you want me to, that is.” He added, not wanting to overstep. You didn’t trust your voice to reply to him, to tell him yes you wanted to kiss him. That you wanted him to do that for the longest time. You leaned up, brushing your lips against his, an invitation for him to kiss you. It was soft, Luke wanting to savour every bit of it. Your lips were sweet from your lip balm, a fact he would remember for a long time. “I love you, Y/N, and I’m so sorry I was too chicken to do anything about it too.”

“Well you weren’t the only one who was scared.” You assured him. “I love you too.” Luke couldn’t help but smile hearing those words come out of your mouth. You leaned up to kiss him again, his cold skin touching yours making you shiver. “Let’s head back and get you warmed up.” You said about to walk back to Nico’s apartment when Luke stopped you.

“Or we could just go back to mine.” He suggested, not wanting to go back to everyone just yet. 

“Fine but you’re having a warm shower. I can’t have your mom or your coach kill me because you got sick.” You told him. 

“But it’d be worth it though.” Luke grinned and he was right. It would be worth it because you are in love with your best friend.

[marbofmoorock]

Since a couple of people agree, I'm going to make a short story of it.

After venturing for miles in this digital fairy tale land adventure, everyone makes it to the castle, but gets divided as most of the cast works together to fight the dragon guarding the prize Caine warned about, save for Zooble and Pomni, who are about to be surprised with the "prize" at the end of the adventure as they start the tower climb.

"Ugh, how much longer?" Grumbled Zooble, the most determined to finish due to constantly falling apart today from all the action.

"You know Zooble, if you want, I could go see what's ahead first if you want. Caine did sorta make this adventure because of me since I brought up fairy tales." Pomni offered nervously, trying to help Zooble calm down.

"No. I'm finishing this, so I can tell Caine how done i am." Zooble muttered angrily, grumbling about how she wants to rip Caine to shreds making Zooble go on this adventure.

Pomni decides to drop the topic and they continue to walk silently up this tower staircase, Caine said the prize was on the tallest room in the tallest tower.

They arrive at the up at a big door locked by a wooden bar, which they took off.

Inside, they're surprised to find Caine in a princess outfit, with lipstick on his teeth lips, as he chuckles in a faintly feminine way, playing the role of the princess/damsel in distress to impress Pomni.

"Congratulations, my Superstars~ You've come rescue me at last!" Says Caine celebrant of their reward.

Zooble stares for a moment, not sure what to think of this, walks back downstairs in silent disbelief, pretty shocked, yet mad this was the prize.

Pomni, watchinh her leave, then turned back to Caine, whom was secretly close to Pomni as the other circus members didn't know about their relationship.

"Sooo~ HOW DO I LOOOOK!?~" Said Caine as "she" poses while laying on the bed in the room for Pomni.

Pomni was not prepared to find Caine roleplaying as a princess, feeling kinda awkward, but sort of found Caine's commitment to the role of being a fairytale princess for the adventure rather...

endearing.

She recalled his in past conversations Caine had been insecure about his adventures and didn't know how to make them fun, until one day Pomni arrived and started to be like a cheerleader to Caine, as she went on to liked Caine a lot, despite all of his mistakes and bring trapped in the Circus. Caine had opened up to Pomni, asking for help, and Pomni embraced the goofy floating denture man by offering him love and support, something Pomni assumed he had very little of as the other cast members were all tired of Caine and his antics. Pomni aims to influence Caine to help alleviate her time at the circus, realizing a fairy tale adventure she had the idea of inspiring him, waa dedinitely so arduous, yet here was Caine was trying to impress her with this extravagant fairy tale adventure. It did remind her of bedtime stories.

Pomni walked over to the bed and sat next to Caine, holding Caine in her noodly Jester arms. Caine cuddled Pomni in her arms in return, feeling hopeful that Pomni loved his surprise at least.

"Did you...like my surprise...?" Said Caine softly, as his eyes gazed at Pomni as they hugged.

"Yes, but do you think our next adventures could be a little less crazy? I think the others would enjoy it a much as i did if there were no dragons or lava."

"Anything for you, Superstar. I thought the challenge would be great, but I suppose lighthearted adventures would be appreciated by the cast more, even if they complain." Caine clings to Pomni a little, to which Pomni hugged Caine tighter, happy to provide support to her secret friend.

"Thank you Caine, you're a real peach."

Caine melted at the thought, close to crying, then he let's all the waterworks out in a blast of tears and sobs as they hold each other, while Caine quickly snaps and sends everyone back to their rooms in the circus for rest, save for them, as Caine and Pomni spent their privacy in a cuddle here in the fairy tale dimension.

"So," said Pomni as she was still gazing at Caine as they held each other, "What's with the princess getup? Is that for me too?"

"Well..." Said Caine, unsure of how to explain his thoughts to Pomni, but tries, "I'm exploring a new side of myself, I didn't know how I'd feel about wearing a dress, but here I am wearing one and it feels kinda amazing."

"Well, I think you look good." Said Pomni sweetly, as her gaze towards Caine continues. Caine is completely memorized towards Pomni and blushes as Pomni offered him a small peck on his right tooth cheek, Caine feels very special. "T-Thank you Pomni, you're so kind to me. I've never had a friend other then bubble and the npcs i create, AND I appreciate all that you do to be a big help. C-Can we stay like this for awhile?"

Pomni nodded, ensuring Caine she trusted him and held him tightly. Caine holds Pomni in return, as they kiss and hang out for a bit alone.

The End.

"COME AND CLAIM YOUR PRIZE MY GALLANT GAMERS!"

[rothpie]

❝FIDELITY❞ |part14

MASTERLIST -`✮´- Rafe Cameron x Kook!Reader x JJ Maybank

Summary: Kook!Reader’s world is upended by betrayal, and her only way forward might lie with the most unlikely person—JJ Maybank. But as they build a new life together, old flames and past mistakes refuse to stay buried.

Warnings: none (I guess)

previous - next

Witnessing Something You’ve Never Experienced 

There are moments in life—like when someone’s laughter makes you laugh, when you share their joy, or when you cry together—that are impossible to put into words. Watching someone else’s happiness is priceless. Maybe that’s one of the best things about being human: feeling their happiness as if it were your own. 

These were the simplest, purest emotions. And yet, when you saw Cleo and Pope smiling at each other, it was hard to keep your own happiness in check. It almost felt like it wasn’t their story, but yours. Like their vows added something to your life, too. 

You’d never been married. In fact, you’d never even come close to it. But as you listened to Cleo and Pope exchange vows, for a moment, you forgot about that emptiness inside you. Standing barefoot on the moonlit beach, watching them hold hands, it felt like everything was exactly as it should be. 

A gentle breeze mingled with the sound of waves breaking on the shore, creating a serene melody in the background. Standing on the sand, you realized how special this moment was. Everyone around you was smiling, even JJ. 

He stood a little apart from the crowd, lazily swirling a beer bottle in his hand as he watched the ceremony. His trademark smirk was there, but something about him seemed softer. As if he was sharing in the happiness in his own way. 

“You ready to head back?” JJ’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts. He had come up beside you, gesturing toward the lights at the edge of the beach with his beer bottle. 

You weren’t in the best shape, to be honest. 

You’d only known Cleo and Pope for four years—a long time, but not forever. You met them through JJ, yet your bond with them felt deeper than just friendship. Cleo, especially, felt like a sister to you. You loved them both and wanted to share in their happiness. 

It had been years since you’d felt like this. Your attachment to alcohol had ended alongside everything with Liliana, or so you thought. But now, Liliana was weaned, and you’d found a rare moment to be on your own. 

Cleo’s wedding wasn’t a grand affair; it was intimate, with close friends, family, and a few others. Your parents had even come. While they wished the same happiness for you, they also took Liliana with them when the reception started. It was their way of giving you a rare night of freedom. 

It wasn’t lost on you that they were doing this for you. Liliana was your baby, but in their eyes, you were still theirs. It was one of the rare times you could just be. A night to be young again. 

And JJ—well, you could tell your parents were secretly grateful for him too. They’d told him as much when they thought you weren’t listening. Your dad had even helped him out with work, quietly making sure JJ stayed on track. 

You were thankful for this time. For a little while, it felt like the old days. Not reckless or wild, just... young. 

And maybe you’d gone a little overboard. You’d been drinking and dancing all night. You weren’t sure how much, but it was enough to notice some concerned glances from people here and there. 

Still, it wasn’t just the alcohol. There was tension in you that you hadn’t let out. You hadn’t told JJ that you’d seen Rafe earlier. You just wanted to forget. But seeing him—especially when you were with your daughter—was a heartbreak all its own. 

After a moment of hesitation, you nodded. You didn’t feel sharp enough to respond with words, yet somehow, you felt like a genius. “I miss my house,” you mumbled, kicking at the sand. 

JJ chuckled, shaking his head. “Which house?” 

He grabbed your wrist gently, steadying you as you stumbled a bit. His touch moved to your hand, and you couldn’t help but follow his movements, your gaze dropping to the sand. 

“All of them,” you replied, your voice a little dreamy. Your answer made JJ laugh harder, the sound blending into the soft music playing in the background. His laughter—it suited everything, like it was a perfect fit for the moment, maybe even better than the music itself. 

“All of them? How many houses you got, sweetheart?” he teased, keeping a steady eye on you as if ready to catch you if you fell. 

“Two.” You held up two fingers to show him, wobbling slightly. JJ’s hand darted out to catch you by the arm while his other hand held yours firmly. 

“Yep, that’s our sign to head out,” he said with a smirk. His hand slipped to your waist as he pulled you closer, keeping you upright. Your bodies brushed against each other, and in your tipsy state, you didn’t have the energy to fight the thoughts that came next. 

You couldn’t help but look at him. JJ was one of those people you just had to look at. Admire. Worship, even. Had he really been right in front of you this whole time? What a snack. 

“So, one house is in Asheville,” he said, steering you toward your table to grab your bag. “Where’s the other one?” 

“You and Liliana.” 

JJ’s eyebrows shot up as he looked at you, his mouth opening slightly like he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. For a moment, he froze, trying to process what you’d just said. 

Then his gaze shifted, and he waved at Sarah and Pope, who were chatting nearby. He clearly chose to distract himself. It was just drunken rambling, right? No need to read into it. 

He knew better than to press the issue. You were drunk. That was all there was to it.

And while you were utterly drunk, he was completely sober. He’d only had one beer, because if you were falling apart like this, someone had to stay grounded to take care of you. The trip home had to be safe. That was his job, and he’d always make sure of it. 

You left the beach together, walking slowly. As the sand turned into a gravel path, the wind picked up, biting at your cheeks. JJ shoved his hands into his jacket pockets and tilted his head back to gaze at the sky. Almost entirely leaning on him, you looked up with glassy eyes. “The stars look so beautiful, don’t they?” you asked, your voice carrying an unusual softness.

The house you’d rented wasn’t far. You had intentionally chosen a place close to the beach, for Liliana. When you arrived, JJ opened the door, turning to flash you a small smile. “Come on, let’s get inside. The wind’s going to make you sick,” he teased with a playful tone.

As you stepped inside, the happy scenes from the wedding were still vivid in your mind. Something felt different about tonight, though you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. 

JJ couldn’t believe you had made it all the way home. He was sure you’d pass out halfway through, but here you were, still standing—well, barely. He held you steady, watching as you stared at the house like you were seeing it for the first time. You smiled faintly as you spoke. 

“I can’t believe how much you drank. I mean—I didn’t even know you could drink that much.” 

He raised an eyebrow as you pursed your lips, clearly preparing a rebuttal. Despite your foggy brain, you still managed to respond. “I only had two shots,” you said confidently, holding up your fingers to emphasize your point. The attempt, however, was far from accurate.

JJ reached out to steady your hand, trying to refocus you. “Two shots and, what, a whole bottle of vodka?” he replied with a smirk. 

You threw your head back, laughing loudly. JJ’s lips quirked into a grin as he listened to your laughter, his hand brushing against your back in a comforting way. He had watched you all night—dancing with him, going wild with Cleo, chatting with Sarah—and at every moment, a drink had been in your hand, always nearing empty. 

“No!” you exclaimed, poking his chest with your finger as if trying to push him away. JJ didn’t budge an inch. Instead, when you stumbled back, he placed both hands on your waist to steady you.

“Alright, come here,” JJ said gently, his tone calm yet firm. He figured you needed to sit down before you hurt yourself. “Let’s get your shoes off before you end up face-first on the floor,” he added, a teasing lilt in his voice. He guided you back to lean against the wall. 

He crouched down to untie your shoes quickly, his movements brisk but careful. It was obvious he was afraid you’d trip and hurt yourself. When he finished, he set your shoes by the door and stood up. His gaze immediately met yours. You had been watching him the entire time, tracking his every move. 

You threw your arms around his shoulders and looked at him with a drunk, adoring smile. “Your eyes are blue,” you said in awe, studying his face as if it were the first time. 

JJ raised his eyebrows, his lips parting slightly. He wanted to pull back and figure out if you were serious, but then he remembered how drunk you were. His lips twitched into an amused grin. “Wow. Five years of living together, and you’re just now noticing?” he teased.

You had no idea what you were doing. You felt like a fool, detached from any sense of self-control. Your thoughts were jumbled, and logic had left the building. You leaned in closer, your heavy-lidded eyes fixated on his face. “Your dimples… they’re really cute,” you whispered.

JJ took a deep breath, shaking his head slightly. His heart raced, which annoyed him more than anything. He tried to pull away from your embrace, turning his head as he gently pried your arms off his neck. “Yeah, you’re definitely drunk,” he muttered, letting your hands drop but still holding onto your wrists to keep you steady.

Suddenly, your breath hitched, and JJ’s attention snapped back to you. His expression shifted as he watched your face, now filled with a mix of worry and sadness. “I didn’t kiss Liliana,” you said in a mournful tone. “Before bed—I didn’t give her her goodnight kiss. I have to do it.”

JJ froze for a moment, trying to process your words. Liliana had been gone for hours, staying with her grandparents. She wasn’t even in the house, and there was no way you’d remember that right now. “Hey, hey. Liliana’s asleep, okay? You can’t kiss her now. You’ll wake her up,” he said soothingly, doing his best to calm you down. He didn’t dare remind you she wasn’t there; that would only lead to a meltdown.

You rested your head on his shoulder, your voice soft and sad. “But I needed to kiss her…”

JJ smiled faintly, brushing his hand over your hair. “It’s alright, sweetheart. You can kiss her in the morning. Let her sleep now.”

Lifting your head, you looked at him intently, your gaze almost too focused for how drunk you were. JJ frowned slightly, sensing the shift in your demeanor. There was something behind your eyes—something determined. It made his chest tighten with unease, a feeling he couldn’t quite place. 

“You’re awake,” you said suddenly, as if realizing a profound truth. 

JJ raised an eyebrow, looking at you in utter confusion. He took a step back. "Huh?"

Despite his retreat, you stepped closer. JJ swallowed hard as you approached, suddenly feeling trapped—vulnerable, even. Thoughts he had no business entertaining were creeping into his head. After all, it was you. You. His friend. His roommate. Yet, he could tell by your innocent tone that you meant nothing by it, and maybe that’s what he hated the most—because those innocent words were pulling his mind into places it didn’t belong. 

“You’re awake, so I can kiss you,” you said, your voice far too nonchalant for the chaos it stirred in him.

JJ quickly stepped back, holding up a hand to stop you, his face turning away as if looking at you directly might break his resolve. “Let’s get you to bed,” he said, his tone soft but firm. You were drunk, and there was no way you meant what you were saying. If you were sober, those words wouldn’t have left your lips. No matter what you said, he was getting you to bed and leaving you there to sleep it off.

“Why? If I can’t kiss Lily, can’t I kiss you? You’re awake! Besides—this is just a goodnight kiss,” you insisted with a faint smile, your tone bordering on teasing. 

Those words sparked something deep within JJ, something unfamiliar and unsettling. You two had never crossed this kind of line before. He’d never seen you look at him like that. And for the first time in years, you were drunk. He knew you hadn’t touched alcohol since Liliana. He also knew how much of your life had been shaped around her absence. Tonight, though, was different—you were drunk, and it was obvious your body wasn’t handling it well.

Even though he knew your words were soaked in alcohol, JJ couldn’t stop the heat creeping up his neck. It wasn’t just what you said—it was how it made him feel. 

JJ exhaled and shook his head, a defeated sort of gesture. He knew you meant nothing by it. There was no way this was anything more than innocent—it had to be. Besides, you were drunk. “Alright, fine. You can kiss me on the cheek,” he said, hoping to diffuse the moment, to get you to let this go. You were speaking without thinking, but his brain was taking your words to places he wished it wouldn’t.

JJ turned his head slightly, offering his cheek as he braced himself, standing as still as a statue. It wasn’t as if this was the first time you’d kissed each other on the cheek. It was a friendly gesture, a sign of affection. You were close—roommates raising a kid together. You spent almost every waking moment together. It was impossible not to care deeply for each other—as friends, of course.

But this? This felt different. Something about the situation was wrong. Whether it was the alcohol he’d had earlier, his own overthinking, or something entirely to do with you, he couldn’t say. All he knew was that, for the first time since you’d moved in, his mind was wandering into territory it had no business exploring. It was like he was just now realizing—or maybe finally acknowledging—that something had shifted between you two.

JJ couldn’t shake the unease in your presence tonight. He was used to being around you, practically glued to your side at all times. But this? Drunk you? That was a new one. Well, aside from those wild parties in your younger days, though even then, he’d usually seen you from a distance—usually surrounded by people. Or… with that fuck-face.

And now here you were, just the two of you, and it felt like uncharted waters. JJ had been drunk around you before, sure, but he could hold his liquor. He didn’t drink often, but when he did, it wasn’t new territory for him.

JJ glanced at you out of the corner of his eye as you took another unsteady step closer. His hands were still on you, steadying you, keeping you upright. He felt his tension rise with every passing second, his stomach twisting in knots. All he wanted was to let you kiss his cheek, put you to bed, and be done with this excruciating moment.

Then he felt it—your fingers slipping from his grip, brushing against the stubble on his freshly-shaven cheek. The light, almost hesitant touch sent a shiver down his spine. He couldn’t even turn his head fully to face you; he just stood there, keeping his gaze flitting between you and the floor. Your touch was nearly enough to make him close his eyes and lean into it, but the reminder of your drunken state snapped him back to reality.

As you swayed closer, your weight pressed into him. JJ quickly steadied you, hearing the soft giggle escape your lips. “Oops,” you muttered, your laughter muffled against his chest. 

He hated this—hated everything about it. Hated the situation, his thoughts, and most of all, how he was feeling. For the love of God, you were drunk, and the thoughts running through his mind were nothing short of sinful. How had he sunk so low as to let his brain spiral like this over a drunk woman—his best friend?

When your lips finally pressed against his cheek, JJ exhaled shakily, his gaze dropping to the floor as his heart pounded furiously in his chest. You’d kissed him on the cheek plenty of times before, but this? This felt different. This kiss lingered too long, carrying a weight he couldn’t explain—a spark that was entirely new and unsettling.

When your lips didn’t move away, JJ gently pulled back, clearing his throat as he steadied you by the waist. As he turned his head back toward you, his eyes briefly—and accidentally—flicked to your lips. He quickly dragged his gaze back up to your eyes, cursing himself internally. He shouldn’t have looked. 

Clearing his throat again, JJ felt his face flush with heat. His prayers for composure were no match for the image of your lips—now cherry red, like they’d been painted that way. It wasn’t the lipstick you’d put on earlier. That had smudged and faded hours ago. Had your lips always been this red? Or was this something he was only now noticing? 

The moment he realized his eyes had drifted back to your lips, it felt like death itself. He needed to stop this. It was weird—no, terrifying. You were drunk, and he was completely sober. 

JJ took a deep breath and looked at your face. It was like you were staring straight into his soul, as though trying to pull everything he was out of him with just your gaze. "Okay," he muttered, trying to compose himself. He leaned on the thought that you'd forget this by morning, that you wouldn't remember any of it. If you were sober, he wouldn't dare let his eyes linger on your lips this long. "Well, since we’ve got the goodnight kiss out of the way—" 

JJ stopped mid-sentence when he felt your hand on the collar of his shirt. The proximity was already absurd—he’d only been holding onto you to keep you from falling—but this? This was nowhere near what he’d expected. Your grip tightened, and before he knew it, you pulled him closer. His eyes widened, and in the next instant, he found himself on your lips. 

His mind blanked. He didn’t even have the sense to close his eyes, as if keeping them open might confirm the absurdity of this moment. It couldn’t be real—it shouldn’t be real. 

The shock rendered JJ motionless. This wasn’t a passionate kiss. You weren’t moving; you just held your lips against his. Yet JJ was sure he was about to have a heart attack. 

Just the touch of your lips sent his heart into a frenzy. He was either dying or dreaming, and neither seemed plausible. 

But it didn’t take long for reality to sink in. He pulled away quickly, stumbling back. His hand darted out to steady you, but he didn’t dare come any closer. He had no idea what to make of what had just happened—or how he was supposed to feel about it. 

God, you were drunk. So drunk. 

“Stop,” he said firmly, though his voice shook slightly. He’d messed up. This wasn’t supposed to happen—none of it. And yet he swore he could still feel your lips on his. He regretted this. You wouldn’t remember it tomorrow, but he wouldn’t forget. “You’re going to regret this when I tell you in the morning.” 

He wouldn’t tell you. He couldn’t. Losing your friendship wasn’t a risk he was willing to take. More than that, he couldn’t bear the thought of being cut out of your life—or Liliana’s. No, he couldn’t lose the family he’d found. Not over one night. 

The words had only been meant to stop you, to get you to back off and let the moment end. He needed you to listen. Then he could put you to bed and get through the night without ever feeling your lips again, without remembering how soft they were or the feeling of having you this close. 

Shit. 

“I won’t,” you said stubbornly. 

JJ squeezed his eyes shut, running a hand over his temple as if trying to think straight. You had no idea what you were doing. You were drunk. You’d regret kissing him. And if he ever saw that regret on your face, he didn’t know how he’d handle it. 

Even though you were the one who kissed him, he still felt responsible for this. He shouldn’t have let you get this close. He should’ve gotten you to bed and let you sleep it off. 

JJ took a steadying breath, searching your gaze for something—anything—that might reassure him. Maybe a glimmer of awareness, a sign you understood what was happening. But you were too far gone. You wouldn’t remember any of this in the morning. And even if you could think straight, the kiss was wrong. And you saying you wouldn’t regret it? That was wrong too. “You will,” he said softly but firmly, his voice unwavering. He wrapped an arm around yours and started guiding you to your room. He just wanted to erase this moment from his memory. 

Not because he didn’t like it—he couldn’t let himself think about that. Whether or not he liked it didn’t matter. You were drunk, and you’d crossed a line. Worse, he’d let you. If you were sober, you wouldn’t have kissed him or gotten this close. And that hurt more than anything else. 

You went quiet as you leaned against his arm. The silence persisted as he helped you to the edge of the bed. Gently, JJ eased you down to sit. You stared at the floor, saying nothing. JJ hated the silence. This shouldn’t have happened. It wasn’t supposed to happen. Finally, his voice broke the quiet, low and strained. “This is wrong... We’re friends.” 

JJ knelt in front of you, meeting your eyes. He knew that. You knew that. But the weight of your actions was already heavy on him. You’d kissed him, and he was already regretting it. He couldn’t stop himself from wondering how you’d feel when he told you in the morning. Would it change things between you? He wasn’t ready to lose you—or Liliana. He wanted a lifetime of memories with both of you, of raising her together and laughing through it all. He couldn’t lose that. “Yeah, we’re friends,” you murmured softly. 

The silence stretched again, and then, out of nowhere, your shoulders began to shake. You couldn’t stop the tears from spilling, your quiet sobs breaking the stillness. JJ’s eyes widened in shock. Seeing you cry tore at something inside him. He didn’t even know why you were crying. Maybe a piece of your clarity had returned. He didn’t want that—not now. 

Hesitating for only a moment, JJ pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly. “Hey, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” he asked, his voice laced with worry. 

You didn’t answer. JJ tilted his head, resting his forehead against yours. The warmth of your breath ghosted over his skin as you shifted. When your nose brushed against his, JJ inhaled sharply, his eyes fluttering shut. His hands slid down your back, settling at your waist. You still didn’t speak, but your movements spoke volumes. JJ exhaled shakily, like he’d just lost a battle with himself. “You need to stop…” he whispered. 

Suddenly, you lifted your head, and the space between you seemed to vanish. JJ’s breath hitched. He wanted this to stop—he needed it to. He knew he wouldn’t be able to control himself if it didn’t. He’d never thought of you this way, never imagined having your lips on his. But now that it had happened, everything felt… right. 

Except it wasn’t. 

You were drunk, and this was so, so wrong. 

But when your lips touched his again, it felt like the most natural thing in the world. 

When JJ felt your noses brush again, he let out a shaky breath, unable to open his eyes and meet yours. He wasn’t even sure who had started it this time. But when your lips met again, JJ felt... found. Like he’d discovered something he hadn’t known he was searching for. In that moment, he pushed everything else aside—all the rules, all the lines he wasn’t supposed to cross—and tightened his arms around your waist. Instead of pulling back, he gave in, even if just for a moment.

As your lips moved together in perfect rhythm, JJ could feel his heartbeat pounding in his chest. If he’d known it would feel this right, he wouldn’t have waited until now to kiss you. Hell, he’d have done it ages ago. When your hands gripped his collar and tugged him closer, JJ didn’t resist. Taking advantage of the way you shifted back on the bed, he let you guide him, following your lead as his hand instinctively slid to your neck.

The kiss broke momentarily as you both gasped for air, but before either of you could even think, your lips found each other again. JJ forgot everything—every rule, every fear, every reason this wasn’t supposed to happen. The only thing that mattered was you. Just you. 

When your fingers tangled in his hair, JJ realized he was completely at your mercy. You were insatiable, like you couldn’t get enough of him. And when your kisses turned more fervent, more desperate, he understood the shift. This wasn’t a sweet, affectionate kiss anymore. This was raw, unrestrained desire. When a soft, breathy moan escaped your lips, JJ froze.

Self-loathing hit him like a freight train. He couldn’t believe he’d let it happen again. With a jolt of awareness, he pulled back abruptly, putting distance between the two of you. As he took in the scene—the two of you on the bed, him hovering over you—he felt sick to his stomach. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t let himself take advantage of you like this. 

“You’re drunk,” JJ said, his voice unsteady, his breath uneven. “You don’t know what you’re doing.” His hands trembled as he held himself back. Deep down, he wished you weren’t drunk. He wished this could be real.

Your gaze met his, and tears brimmed in your eyes. “I’m sorry,” you said, your voice cracking. But JJ knew he was the one who should be apologizing. Tomorrow morning—if he ever found the courage to bring this up—it would be on him. He was the one who was sober. He was the one who should’ve known better. He shouldn’t have let you pull him in, shouldn’t have let himself fall for it.

JJ took a deep breath and carefully helped you lie back on the bed. He brushed your hair back gently, his chest heavy with regret. Not regret for kissing you, but for doing it when you were drunk. For crossing a line when you wouldn’t even remember it. “Get some sleep, okay?” he said softly, trying to push the guilt from his tone.

As he started to pull away and leave the room, you caught his hand. “Don’t go,” you whispered.

JJ swallowed hard, his throat tightening. He shook his head slowly, refusing to look at you. “I can’t,” he said quietly. Staying would only make it worse—make him hate himself even more. But then he looked at you, and his resolve crumbled. He cursed himself silently. This wasn’t supposed to happen. None of this was.

“Please,” you said, your voice barely audible. JJ’s eyes fluttered shut, his jaw clenching. The second he walked out of that room, he knew he’d be sick. He couldn’t believe he’d let things go this far, couldn’t believe he’d put you in this position. You were his friend, and you wouldn’t remember any of this. Not a single moment.

God, he wished you were sober. If you woke up and remembered everything—if you looked at him with disgust—he wouldn’t be able to handle it. He couldn’t.

“Fine,” he said, defeated. He was terrified—terrified of you waking up and hating him. “Close your eyes,” he murmured without thinking. He couldn’t take the way you were looking at him. That look only made the guilt gnaw at him even more.

You did as he asked, your eyes fluttering shut. JJ let out a long, heavy sigh and sat down beside you. He leaned his head back, running a hand through his hair as he muttered to himself under his breath, “Why do you make me hate myself like this...”

It was close to 3 a.m., and you still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. You’d been awake for hours, but the dull ache in your head and the strange fog clouding your mind refused to lift. Some parts of last night were blurry—there were flashes of laughter, dancing, the wedding… but the details were frustratingly out of reach. 

You sat curled up on the corner of the couch, sipping your coffee slowly, the warmth doing little to ease your unease. Across the room, JJ was in the kitchen, fiddling with the kettle as if it was the most intricate puzzle in the world. Normally, you were used to his easygoing, morning-person energy, but this wasn’t it. His movements were precise, almost tense, and his face carried a weird stiffness. You couldn’t make sense of it. 

“My head hurts,” you finally said, breaking the suffocating silence. You were tired of his strange behavior. 

JJ glanced over his shoulder, his expression unreadable. With a faint, almost forced smile, he said, “Not surprised.” But his tone betrayed something deeper, something unsaid that hung in the air. 

“Not surprised?” you asked, frowning. “You’re acting weird, JJ.” 

He shrugged, putting the kettle back down and leaning against the counter. His fingers raked through his hair, a telltale sign that something was bothering him. Still, he avoided your eyes. “I’m just… tired. You know, long night and all.” 

But you knew it wasn’t just exhaustion. You could feel it. “Did something happen?” you asked, studying his face carefully, hoping to find a clue. 

“No,” he said too quickly, his voice sharp before softening a beat later. “No, really. Just… the usual.” 

His vague response only unsettled you further, but you decided not to press him. Not right now. Your headache and the foggy haze in your mind were draining enough without getting into a confrontation. 

When you glanced at the clock and noticed how late it had gotten, you suddenly straightened. “I need to pick up Liliana,” you said abruptly. 

JJ hesitated, his head turning to look at you like he was searching for something in your expression. “Alright,” he said cautiously. “Are you good to drive?” 

“Yeah,” you replied, grabbing your bag and standing up. “She’s probably missing us by now. I should get going.” 

JJ didn’t respond right away, just nodded slowly. His gaze stayed on you, heavy with something unspoken. It was like he wanted to stop you, to say something, but couldn’t find the words. 

As you headed to the door and bent down to put on your shoes, you could still feel his eyes on you. It was unnerving. Pausing for a moment, you glanced back at him. “We’ll talk later,” you said, keeping your tone light but purposeful. 

JJ gave another nod. “Yeah. We’ll talk.” But his words carried a weight far greater than they should have. 

Sliding into the driver’s seat of your car, you couldn’t shake the strange feeling in your gut. JJ’s behavior, your pounding headache, and the scattered, blurry memories from the night before were all swirling together, leaving an uneasy knot in your stomach. 

As you started the car and pulled onto the road, your phone lit up on the passenger seat. The screen showed Sarah’s name flashing as she called. Reaching over, you grabbed the phone, the knot in your stomach tightening as you answered. 

Rafe hadn’t felt this vulnerable in a very long time. When he left Sarah’s house days ago, his steps were slow and heavy. Inside, a storm was raging. His thoughts collided, each crashing harder than the last. Talking to Sarah had been like a slap in the face with the truth he’d tried so hard to avoid. Hearing the things he didn’t want to hear—it had turned his whole world upside down. 

Once, he’d believed the life he was living was normal. Or maybe he’d just convinced himself of that. The life he’d shaped with his own choices, every step calculated to reach his goals... He had sacrificed everything for them. Absolutely everything.

And now, there was an emptiness inside him. He’d achieved the goals he’d fought for with relentless ambition and passion, but what had they given him in return? Monotony. A quiet restlessness. His soul was weighed down with a sense of suffocation he couldn’t even admit to himself. 

The moment he saw you and Liliana, everything changed. That’s when it all hit him. The scene played over and over in his mind—your icy gaze, Liliana’s delicate features that mirrored his own... her tiny hands, her green dress... Those images were burned into his memory. No matter what he did, he couldn’t erase them. 

He couldn’t sleep peacefully anymore. The moment he closed his eyes, he found himself lost in a vivid dream. He was holding you in his arms, playing games in the garden with Liliana. In those dreams, he clung to the illusion of a life he might have had, a life as a father with his own family. But every morning, he woke to the harsh truth. You weren’t his. Liliana wasn’t his. That life wasn’t his. 

Even throwing himself into work hadn’t helped. His mind wandered constantly, his thoughts overpowering him. There seemed to be no escape. For days, he’d stopped working entirely. Maybe, for the first time in his life, he allowed himself to just stop. To think. To try to figure out what was right. 

But he never expected to see you again. For four years, there had been nothing from you. He’d lost count of how many times he’d tried to find out where you or your family were. But you’d completely cut him off. You’d disappeared from his world. 

And now, after seeing you again, he didn’t know what to do. Should he fight to bring you back into his life, or was he meant to keep paying for the mistakes of his past? 

Every night, he dreamed. He dreamed of making you and Liliana part of his world, even though he knew it was impossible. In those dreams, Liliana’s laughter echoed, and you smiled at him. But that smile had been lost to him in the real world long ago. 

Calling Sarah had been a desperate act. He just needed to hear something—anything that could help. Again and again, he’d been met with Sarah’s irritated tone on the other end of the line. “What do you want now?” she’d asked, her exasperation unmistakable. 

And Rafe’s answer was always the same: “Hey... I just... I need a favor.” 

Rafe had realized his life was an illusion. The structure he thought he wanted was nothing but a trap. Seeing you had made that painfully clear. The dream of a life he might have had—holding you in his arms, hearing his daughter’s laughter, playing with her—had carved itself into his mind. But could those dreams ever become reality? Or had the wreckage of the past already swept everything away? 

These questions had no answers, but Rafe had made a decision. For the first time, he felt truly lost and defenseless. The only promise he made to himself was not to repeat his mistakes. Or at least, this time, he would try. 

To start, he knew he needed help. Calling Sarah, asking for her help—it meant swallowing his pride, but there was no other choice. “I just need to know where she is, Sarah,” he’d pleaded over the phone, his desperation seeping into every word. 

Sarah’s reply had been sharp and definitive. “Cut the crap, Rafe. I’m not giving you her address. And if you bother her one more time, I swear you’ll ruin what’s left of the relationship between us too.” 

The call ended. It hit him like a cold slap, but Rafe didn’t give up. He called again. Sent messages. Pushed Sarah to the edge of her patience. Eventually, he got a sliver of information. She mentioned a gas station stop. It was his only chance. Today.

He didn’t hesitate. He jumped into his car and sped off, his mind a whirlwind. His heart pounded, his hands gripped the steering wheel like a lifeline. 

When he arrived at the gas station, his breath caught in his throat. His eyes searched for you, and finally, there you were. Through the store window, he saw you picking something off the shelf. Your eyes narrowed slightly, as if lost in thought. 

For a moment, all he could do was watch. His feet felt rooted to the ground. But then he took a deep breath and forced himself forward, one heavy step at a time, toward the door. His heart raced faster with every step, his mind repeating, Is this the right thing? But he had no choice. He needed to see you. He needed to talk to you. 

When he opened the door, the bell chimed softly. You turned your head, your eyes meeting his. In that instant, the world seemed to stop. Your gaze held a mix of surprise and anger, but no matter what, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. 

Rafe shoved his hands into his pockets, hesitating as he walked toward you. His shoulders slumped slightly, his eyes unsure. He stopped a few steps away, took a deep breath, and opened his mouth, but no words came out. 

“Hey,” he said finally, his voice trembling just enough to betray him. 

He watched as your eyes scanned him, waiting for a response. The silence between you felt heavy. 

“What are you doing here?” you asked, your tone flat, devoid of any warmth. Your brows furrowed, and your lips pressed into a thin line. You didn’t take your eyes off him. 

Rafe had expected anger, maybe even an outburst. But the coldness in your voice—it stung in a way he hadn’t anticipated. It hit him somewhere deep, leaving a dull ache in its wake. 

Rafe cleared his throat and briefly lowered his gaze to the floor. He’d imagined seeing you before he arrived but hadn’t thought about what he’d actually say. He tried to slip his hands into his pockets but stopped himself. His shoulders slumped, and his eyes stayed fixed on the ground. "I—I just wanted to say hi." 

Your face fell into an impassive mask. The disdain for him was clear, and Rafe felt like he couldn’t breathe under the weight of it. "Alright. Hi." 

Rafe forced a smile as he looked at you, his expression nervous but determined. "Hi." The silence between you stretched, thick and uncomfortable. Desperate to shift the mood, Rafe mumbled, "You look really beautiful, by the way." 

Your face immediately hardened, and your eyes flashed with anger, as if you couldn’t believe what he had just said. The hiss that escaped your lips made Rafe regret his words instantly. He’d crossed the line. "Cut the nonsense, Rafe. Can you leave, please?" 

Rafe tensed but took a step back. His hands remained buried in his pockets, and he dropped his head slightly, cursing himself. He’d had one chance, and he’d ruined it—like he always did. He pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled before lowering his hand again. "I—I’m sorry. Really." 

He had barely turned to leave when your voice stopped him cold. 

"For what?" 

Rafe froze, his shoulders stiffening. Slowly, he turned back, confusion etched across his face. He understood the question, but was this really the time for this conversation? Of course, he expected you to hate him. He just hadn’t thought he’d get under your skin so quickly. "What?" 

"For what are you apologizing?" you repeated, your voice shaking but firm. Despite being in a public place, you struggled to keep it down, your anger barely restrained. "Did you honestly think you could just show up and casually talk to me? Like this is some kind of fucking joke?" 

Rafe raised his hands in a helpless gesture. Of course, you were right. What had he been thinking? "No. I—I just wanted to see if you were okay." 

Your brows knitted together as you crossed your arms, stepping closer to him. Rafe felt his entire body tense. "That’s none of your business. Why do you even care if I’m okay? You didn’t care five years ago." 

Rafe dropped his head. No matter what you said, you would always be right. He didn’t even have the words to defend himself. "I know." 

"You know?" Your voice climbed, sharp and incredulous, as you jabbed a finger toward him. "Fuck off, Rafe!" 

His breathing quickened, but he didn’t back away. This wasn’t how he imagined this would go, but—what did he expect? That you’d run into his arms and forgive everything he’d done? He had deluded himself into thinking you were still the person he used to know. "Look, I’m trying—" 

"I don’t want to hear it!" You raised a hand to cut him off, your voice louder than you intended. 

Rafe took a step closer. "I swear—" 

"I don’t want to hear it!" you yelled, your voice trembling but resolute. Rafe exhaled deeply, defeated. He hated this. Hated himself. He’d never be anything but a source of shame in your eyes. 

Rafe fell silent, guilt etched into every line of his face. He ran a hand through his hair, then took a step back. The quiet between you became unbearable. You took a deep breath, closing your eyes as the words forced their way out. "It’s over. It’s been over for years. That’s it. You didn’t want—" 

"Don’t say it," Rafe interrupted, his voice low but thick with emotion. Every word was weighted with regret. 

"You said, ‘Get rid of it!’ You didn’t want it! That’s why it ended," you snapped, your voice breaking as tears welled in your eyes. You didn’t back down, though. Rafe hated seeing you like this, hated knowing he was the reason for it. 

Rafe spread his hands helplessly, unsure of what to do. If you had told him back then, he would’ve accepted it with joy. But back then, he’d been a fool—a selfish, spineless coward desperate for his father’s approval. "I wasn’t thinking straight!" 

"Don’t give me that shit, Rafe." A bitter laugh escaped your lips, almost like you were exhaling your pain. You turned your gaze away, shaking your head. 

"I wasn’t in a good place," he whispered. But even he knew that no excuse could erase what he’d done. He wasn’t trying to absolve himself—he couldn’t. He was just…lost. 

Your laughter cut through him, sharp and bitter. "Right. Because your mistakes were all about your ‘bad mental state.’ Not because you’re just a shitty person! Enough, Rafe! This conversation is pointless. You’ve got a new life—without me. And we’ve got ours—without you. Let it go." 

You gave him one last look, lowering the finger you’d been pointing at him. Turning on your heel, you took a step to leave. 

Panic flared in Rafe’s chest. He couldn’t let it end like this. He’d made every mistake imaginable, but he couldn’t bear to add another one to the pile. He had to try. And if it didn’t work—well, at least he tried. 

"I want to meet her." 

You stopped in your tracks. The step you were about to take hung in the air before slowly retreating. You turned to him, eyes blazing with fury. 

"Liliana—" 

"Don’t you dare!" you shouted, pointing a trembling finger at him as you stormed toward him. Rafe stayed rooted in place, letting your fury wash over him. Of course, you were angry. You had every right to be. He just wished—wished he could turn back time and fix everything. "How dare you? Do you think it’s that simple?!" 

Rafe recoiled slightly, carefully choosing his words. He didn’t want to hurt you more than he already had—or dig himself into an even deeper hole. "I don’t mean to say the wrong thing." 

"I don’t care what you mean!" you snapped, your voice cutting through him like a knife. He watched as your expression shifted, protective and fierce. "You’re not meeting her!" 

"Don’t make me use force," Rafe said, his voice trembling but firm. He regretted it instantly. He shouldn’t have said it. It wasn’t true. He’d never do that. Never. It was a fleeting moment—an impulsive lapse. He needed to think before speaking. Shit.

You flinched. Then, with a bitter laugh, you stepped closer and shoved him in the chest. Rafe let you. He shouldn’t have spoken like an idiot. He should’ve stayed calm. 

“What are you going to do? Sue me? Go ahead! Does your father even know you have a kid? Everything you’ve built—your stupid little empire—it’ll all crumble! Are you really going to do it? Because you won’t. You’re a coward, and you always have been.”

Rafe’s eyes hardened. “I will,” he said, his tone low but sharp with determination. He could. He had the power. Lawyers, connections—it was all on his side. But he couldn’t do it to you. 

You froze, staring at him in shock. 

Rafe stepped closer, taking a deep breath and holding out his hands as if trying to calm the storm. He didn’t want this to escalate, and he knew you didn’t want it either. "But I won’t do that. That’s not the point. I want to be in Liliana’s life. I’m going to tell my father.”

You watched his brows furrow as he exhaled. You were right—if he wanted to be a father, his family needed to know. And if you allowed it, they had a right to be informed. But even if you didn’t allow it, he’d still tell them. They wouldn’t take it well. He couldn’t predict what would happen, but he was done hiding. He was done being a coward. 

“What?” you asked, disbelief and frustration tightening your voice.

“I’m going to tell them. No matter what.” He took a deep breath, his voice softening. It was almost as if the confident man standing before everyone else had deflated before you. He could barely hold your gaze. He knew he didn’t deserve you.

“You’re lying,” you said, stepping back. Your voice carried not just doubt but a deep-rooted unwillingness to believe him. You didn’t want to.

“I swear I’m not.” Rafe lifted his head, his eyes meeting yours with a certainty that startled you. He would do it. In fact, he should have done it from the beginning, back when you told him you were pregnant. He was already too late.

You didn’t want to believe him. But the resolve in his eyes—he’d never looked more sincere. 

Rafe drew in a deep breath and spoke, his gaze never wavering from yours. “I want them to know. Everything. I—” His voice cracked, but he pressed on. “I’m not making any more mistakes. I can’t afford to.”

Your brows knit together, your face hardening. You took a long, deliberate breath, though it was clear you were barely keeping your emotions in check. “Rafe, if this backfires on us—I don’t want it. I don’t want Liliana or me dragged into this mess.”

Rafe hesitated for a moment, then shook his head firmly. “It won’t. I promise.” He wouldn’t let it. Not ever. 

Your voice rose, insistent. “Rafe—”

He cut you off, stepping closer. “No. I won’t let that happen. I’m not that stupid, irresponsible kid you left behind anymore. That person...he’s gone. He’s gone for good.”

You let out a sharp breath, rolling your eyes as you shook your head. “I don’t trust you. I just—can’t.”

The guilt etched deep into Rafe’s face made him drop his gaze. He nodded silently, as if accepting it. He hated himself for this. If one of his friends had done what he had, Rafe would’ve ripped them apart for their irresponsibility, for being such a terrible person. And he knew—that’s exactly what he was. A terrible person. 

“I know. It’s going to take everything to prove myself to you, and I get that. But…”

You squinted at him, your eyes sharp and wary. “Liliana thinks her dad’s in space,” you said flatly, your voice dripping with sarcastic calm.

Rafe blinked in surprise. His eyebrows shot up, lips parting as the faintest spark of humor lit his expression. His heart raced at the absurdity of it. “What?”

“Yes,” you said, shrugging. “I told her her dad’s an astronaut. He’s so far away he can’t come see her. If you step into her life, there’s no stepping out again. If you think for one second you can’t handle this, don’t even bother starting.”

Your voice was firm, your gaze sharp as steel. “And—I need time to think.”

Rafe nodded but never took his eyes off you. “I’m not going anywhere. I won’t leave her again. No matter what, I won’t lose Liliana. I swear it.”

For a moment, silence hung between you. His seriousness, his unyielding resolve—it threw you off balance. You studied him with narrowed eyes, his words echoing in your mind. They made you uneasy. You hated feeling this way. 

“Fine. I’ll think about it,” you said at last, your voice tempered, the anger giving way to a measured determination.

Rafe exhaled deeply, relief softening his expression. “Thank you,” he murmured, his voice quiet.

You lifted your chin, your eyes cold as ever. “I’m not doing this for you.”

This wasn’t a decision you could make on your own. It never had been, and it never could be.

When you returned home with Liliana, you had every intention of explaining everything to JJ. But as soon as you walked through the door, Liliana insisted on playing a game with JJ. Knowing you couldn’t discuss something this heavy in her presence, you simply went along with it. But JJ was no fool. He had picked up on something being off.

He’d been tense since you’d seen him that morning. While playing with Liliana, he would steal glances at you, checking on you like he was trying to piece together a puzzle. 

You had no idea what was bothering him, but that nagging weight in your chest wouldn’t go away. You wanted to just tell him and be done with it. You couldn’t handle this alone—especially not when you and JJ shared a home and were raising a child together.

This wasn’t just your decision to make. No, it would affect JJ too. Practically speaking, the two of you were living together. Sure, JJ had his own place, but he barely used it. He’d take Liliana to school sometimes, decide what she’d eat, and even join you for her daycare events. 

Whatever you did for Liliana, JJ did as well. He cared for her as much as you did. At night, he’d kiss her goodnight just as you would. The choice ahead of you wouldn’t just impact your life or Liliana’s—it would alter JJ’s too.

You had to talk to him. You needed to unload this unease and find some relief.

When Liliana and JJ finished playing, your eyes immediately sought his. He was already looking at you. When you held his gaze for a second too long, JJ quickly turned back to Liliana. “Go on, give Mommy a kiss, then you can go upstairs and play with your dolls.” He planted a kiss on her hair and stood up.

Your attention shifted to Liliana as she waddled over to you. “Want some coffee?” JJ asked just as Liliana climbed onto the couch and wrapped her tiny arms around your neck.

“Yes, please,” you replied as her kisses landed on your cheeks. Smiling, you kissed her back. “Now I’m going to play with my dolls. I love you, Mommy,” she chirped, pulling away.

“I love you too, sweetheart,” you said, watching as she clambered down and carefully made her way upstairs. Your eyes lingered on her until she disappeared at the top of the stairs.

JJ headed to the kitchen, and you felt the weight of your discomfort pressing down on you. You knew he’d bring you coffee, just like always, but this time, sitting in silence and ignoring the elephant in the room wasn’t an option. You had to talk. The life you shared, the responsibilities you both carried—everything had been thrown off balance by Rafe’s unexpected move. And you needed to know where JJ stood on all of it.

When JJ returned with two cups of coffee, the exhaustion etched on his face hit you immediately. He set your cup in front of you and sank into the opposite chair, staring down at his coffee in silence. You recognized this—the way JJ withdrew when something weighed heavily on him. You’d seen it many times before.

“JJ,” you said, not bothering to hide the determination in your voice. He hesitated for a moment before finally lifting his gaze to meet yours. The calm you were used to seeing in his eyes had been replaced by something much harder to read.

“Something happened,” you said, noticing the way his brows instantly furrowed.

“I know,” he murmured, his voice steady but tinged with something fragile. “I’ve been waiting for you to say it. Go ahead.”

You took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm within you. “Rafe,” you said, hoping that single word would convey everything.

JJ’s expression hardened instantly. He straightened in his seat, his protective instincts kicking in. “What happened?” 

Your hands tightened around your coffee cup as you steadied yourself. “He… he wants to be in Liliana’s life,” you said, the words feeling heavy as they left your mouth. “He told me as much. And it doesn’t feel like something I can decide on my own. It’s not just my decision to make.” You trailed off, watching JJ’s face shift—from shock to anger and finally to a resigned sort of disbelief.

JJ’s gaze dropped to the floor. His hands remained on the cup, his fingers whitening with the grip, but his eyes stayed fixed on the ground. You wanted so badly to read his thoughts, but he gave nothing away. He just sat there, silent. And that silence unnerved you more than any outburst ever could.

It was driving you mad. You waited for him to speak—to say yes, no, anything. When it came to Liliana, your emotions were always raw, and thinking clearly was difficult. You needed JJ to ground you. “Say something,” you whispered, your voice betraying the helplessness you felt.

“Are you meeting him?” JJ finally asked, his voice barely audible. The room felt eerily quiet, the kind of silence that pressed down on your chest. You noticed his knuckles whitening further as he clutched his cup, his gaze still glued to the floor.

You shook your head quickly. “No. He came to me. I didn’t go to him. I didn’t call him—he found me. I would never willingly see him.” You paused, your voice trembling. “He… he saw us a few days ago. And today, when I went to pick up Liliana, he was at the gas station.” You swallowed hard, bracing for JJ’s reaction. You wanted him to lash out—to yell, to be angry at someone—but he didn’t. He just sat there.

“You’re her mother,” he said at last, his words cutting like a blade. His tone wasn’t comforting—it was almost dismissive. You’d hoped for guidance, for support, but his response left you feeling more alone.

“JJ—” you began, but he cut you off sharply. His gaze never lifted as he leaned back in his chair, taking a sip of his coffee. His reactions were impossible to decipher.

“This is your choice.”

“You know it’s not that simple,” you countered, your heart pounding as you leaned forward, trying to draw his attention. You needed him to look at you, to see you, but he remained where he was, unmoving.

“Alright, suit yourself.” JJ’s voice was flat, his tone monoton once again. You could feel your frustration rising, but you knew it stemmed from sadness. 

“Wait,” you said, your voice trembling. You couldn’t make this decision alone. 

“No, this is your choice.” JJ took a sip from his coffee. You had no idea how to change his mind. He kept throwing out these ridiculous comments and expected you to agree. And—it wasn’t like him at all. He spoke as if—as if he’d never been part of Liliana’s life. As if he hadn’t been there raising her alongside you.

“JJ—”

“Maybe you should move in together. You, Liliana, and Rafe. Picture-perfect family, what do you think?” His lips curled into a sarcastic smirk, and your jaw dropped. That bitter smile on his face made you feel utterly defeated. Did he even realize how ridiculous he sounded? These weren’t your words at all.

“Maybe you’ll rekindle your great love, hmm? Have another kid—” You couldn’t take it anymore. Did he not know you at all? Hadn’t he seen everything you’d been through? How could he talk like this?

Besides—you had come to him for advice. To figure out what to do as a team. It’s not like you had run to JJ impulsively to say yes to Rafe’s offer. You hadn’t even accepted it!

“You know I didn’t say that!” you yelled, unable to hold back your anger any longer. The realization that Liliana was upstairs hit you hard, and you closed your eyes tightly, taking a shaky breath to calm yourself before opening them again.

“I came to you for advice,” you said, the words catching in your throat. “To tell you this isn’t a decision I can make alone. And you’re—you’re saying all this to me?” The disappointment was written all over your face. You wanted to talk this through together, not deal with it on your own.

JJ gave a hollow chuckle as he stood up. When he slammed his coffee mug onto the table, you flinched. He ran his hands through his hair, pacing. “Maybe you’ll leave Asheville, move back to the Outer Banks. Start over with Rafe.” He turned his back on you, one hand resting on his hip while the other rubbed his temple. A frustrated sigh escaped him.

His words hit you like a slap. You stood abruptly. “You’re being cruel,” you said, your voice shaking. You cursed yourself as you felt your lips begin to tremble. You hated crying.

JJ’s face hardened. The anger seemed to drain from him, replaced by that same flat tone. “It’s not my place to decide. You’re her parent.”

“Me? Just me? So you weren’t her parent when you changed her diapers, stayed up with her when she cried at night, or showed up for her daycare events? Do you not see that Liliana views you as a father figure in her life?” Your voice cracked, as shattered as your emotions. You couldn’t stand how foolish he was being—or how he was acting. He wasn’t listening to you. “Does being a family only count if there’s blood involved?”

JJ paused for a moment, then sighed deeply, shaking his head. “Rafe’s her father. If he wants to be part of her life, you should let him.”

You threw your hands up in exasperation. “Stop talking like that!” you cried, desperation creeping into your tone.

JJ turned to you sharply, frustration etched into his features. He stepped closer, pointing a finger at you. “Didn’t you ask for my opinion? I just gave it to you. But know this—if he’s in her life, he’ll be in yours too. Whether you like it or not.”

That final sentence struck a nerve, and the storm inside you intensified. Before you could respond, JJ cut you off again. “You’ll fall for him again—” His smile was bitter, filled with pain.

You couldn’t take another second of this. “Do you think I forgot what he did to me?!” you shouted, interrupting him. “He left me when I was three months pregnant! Do you think I’m stupid enough to forgive that?!”

“I didn’t say that,” JJ muttered, his voice lower, but his words cut like a blade. “But you won’t be able to control your feelings.”

“You have no idea how I feel!” you snapped, anger and heartbreak tangled together in your voice. When you noticed a faint smirk tugging at JJ’s lips, your brows furrowed.

“You’re absolutely right,” he said, his tone strangely hollow. He nodded as if conceding your point, his tongue running over his teeth. “I really don’t.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked, shaken by how cold and distant he had become. His words were so cryptic, so frustratingly vague, it felt like he was mocking you.

“I don’t know. What do I mean?” he replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he shook his head. You couldn’t shake the feeling that he knew something you didn’t. 

It felt like you were trapped in an endless loop. When JJ began gathering his things from the table, your heart clenched. Despite everything, you didn’t want him to leave. No matter what he said—you couldn’t bear for him to turn his back on you. This couldn’t be happening.

As your anger faded into pure worry, you watched him with rising panic. You took a step forward, but he had already packed up. No. This couldn’t be it. You couldn’t let Rafe ruin your life all over again. “Where—JJ, wait. Please.”

JJ headed for the door, and you quickly followed, grabbing his arm. When he turned to face you, your eyes brimmed with tears. You didn’t want him to leave. You didn’t want this to end in anger and heartbreak. “Please—please, don’t go. Don’t.” 

“I need some air,” he said, his voice soft but firm. His eyes locked with yours, and for a moment, his expression softened. 

“I’ll stop talking, I swear—” you rushed out, desperate to keep him from leaving. You were ready to beg if it came to that. This wasn’t worth losing him over, not something so small. It didn’t have to escalate like this. 

“I’ll come back,” he said. His tone was steady, reassuring. But you didn’t want him to go, not even for a moment. Even if it meant sitting in silence together, you needed him to stay. You weren’t used to him walking away. 

“I really will stop—” you started again, your voice trembling. Your hands briefly reached for his arm before falling back to your sides, unsure of what to do. 

JJ looked away, threading his fingers through his hair in frustration. His fingers raked through his blond strands, his face tense and brooding. His brows were furrowed, and the muscle in his jaw tightened slightly. When he finally turned back to you, his gaze was a mixture of emotions—no anger, but a deep, aching disappointment. 

“I don’t want you to stop talking,” he said, his voice lower than usual, but it carried a quiet intensity. “If I stay, we’ll just hurt each other more.” He hesitated, drawing in a long, controlled breath before stepping back further. “I just need some space to calm down. I’ll come back.” 

“I’m sorry—” you murmured, your hand instinctively reaching out to him again before stopping mid-air. You were scared to touch him, scared it might push him further away. 

“Don’t.” JJ stepped back another pace, lifting his hand slightly as if to hold you at bay. “I’m not mad at you.” His gaze met yours, and beneath the resolve in his eyes, you could see how fragile he felt, even if he didn’t want to admit it. 

“Yes, you are. You’re mad at me. I shouldn’t have brought it up,” you insisted, your voice barely above a whisper. 

JJ froze for a moment, exhaling deeply as he looked away. His hands fell to his sides, and he shook his head slowly, as if wrestling with something. “Why shouldn’t you have brought it up?” he asked, his voice rough around the edges. When his eyes met yours again, there was pain in them, not directed at you but at himself. “This has always been your choice. I only said what I did because I care about you. I’m not angry at you—how could I be? How could I ever be angry at you?” 

He paused, his gaze drifting somewhere distant. His fingers fidgeted unconsciously near the pocket of his jeans, and his lips pressed into a thin line before parting again. “I’m angry at myself,” he admitted quietly, so quietly you almost didn’t hear him. 

His words stopped you in your tracks. Looking at his face, you realized there was something he wasn’t saying, something he was holding back. But you couldn’t bring yourself to ask. Asking might shatter the fragile tension that still tethered you together. 

JJ stood motionless for a long moment, then turned and walked toward the door. He stopped just before opening it, resting his hand on the frame. His fingertips gripped the edge so tightly they turned white. Without looking back, he stepped out. The door closed with a soft but final thud, the sound echoing through the room, leaving the air heavier than before. 

[gothicfied]

Hey, i love your writing. I was wondering if you could do a Dae-ho fic where the reader is apart of his group (with gi-hun and stuff) but used to date Thanos, who is trying to win her back. She asks the boys to help stop her from going back to him cause she can;' help but want to. Later dae ho asks why she dated thanos cause he was toxic and she admits she feels she doesn't deserve better. Dae ho confesses and promises that he will give her better. I don't know if this makes sense, but thanks :)

Why can't I let go? - Kang Dae-ho / Player 388

Pairing: Kang Dae-ho / Player 388 x fem!reader (maybe slight Thanos x reader)

Summary: Seeing your ex months after your break up made you question things again, but Dae-ho gave you a reason not to go back to him.

Warnings: Mentions of death/dying, gunshots (typical squid game stuff), other than that it's just fluff, not proof read (english isn't my first language)

Word count: ~ 1.6k

A/N: hi and thank you sm!! I hope this comes close to what you had in mind (:

What made being in this slaughter house even worse for you, besides the fact that you had to worry about dying every few seconds, was the fact that your literal ex boyfriend somehow also ended up here. Well, actually, you knew exactly why Thanos, as he liked to call himself now, entered the games as well — Not only did he basically bankrupt himself with investing in that stupid crypto currency, no, he took most of your savings too and created unnecessary money problems for you. That was obviously the break-up-reason, although he just wasn't the best boyfriend over all.

His presence already pissed you off when spotting him in the crowd after initially waking up in that uncomfortable bunk bed. Thanos only spotted you when walking up the weird, colorful stairs to the first game. Pushing other players to the side, he made his way up to you and tapped you on the shoulder, non-stop apologizing for what he had done to you. It has been like that since you broke things off with him, but you made the effort to block him on everything and simply not answer the door when he came by every now and then to win you back.

Thanos was annoying and dangerous, as it showed itself in Red-Light-Green-Light. Not only was he a junkie, he was also seemingly ready to sacrifice the life of other people for his own benefit. At first, when Player 456 yelled out that everyone who got 'disqualified' would essentially get shot, you didn't want to believe him. Even Thanos leaned over to you, much to your annoyance, and said "What the fuck is this guy on?". He's one to talk, huh. In the end, when Player 456 was right, you immediately took his advice and voted 'X' during the first voting.

"Thanks for saving us back there." you said to Player 456, hesitantly approaching him and his friend, Player 390. They introduced themselves as Gi-hun and Jung-bae, inviting you to sit down and eat with them. A few moments later another young man dropped down from his bed and agreed with you, also claiming that how Gi-hun acted was heroic. "Why'd you vote like that then?" you asked Dae-ho after he sat down next to you, pointing at the blue badge upon his chest. "Ah, you know," feeling like he got caught, he kept looking away from your eyes, "the money now is not nearly enough to pay off my debts. But, don't worry, I'll definitely vote different next time!" You guys continued talking and even laughing a bit, telling each other about your life outside of here.

You, alongside Jung-bae, found out that he was a marine. Both were actually, immediately finding common ground. Watching them joke around with each other, you couldn't help but smile — Which stopped as soon as you looked to the other side, to the people who voted 'O', and spotted Thanos staring at you. He was clearly not happy with how you voted or the fact that another man made you laugh, even though you only met him a few minutes ago. That's just how Thanos is, you feared: always jealous about someone, worried you're going to cheat on him, but would then flirt with his female fans in the same breath. He always claimed it was because they were his fans and they loved to feel like he was reachable, but that was never a justification for you.

For some reason, that you didn't pay attention to, a little fight between the two sides broke out, and Thanos thought this was the best time to drag you away from all that and talk with you. You saw him stand up and approach you, to which you already shook your head, but when he grabbed your arm and just took you with him, you couldn't do much. "Why would you do that?" he asked you, his eyes staring into yours. "What? What did I do now? Can't you just leave me alone?" You crossed your arms in front if your chest and just looked down at your feet, because, if you were being honest with yourself, when your ex boyfriend looked at you like that.. it kind of did something to you. Perhaps regret your decision.

"Baby, seriously?"

"Don't fucking call me that."

"Come on, I know you love it, princess.."

"Get to the point."

You were annoyed, agitated, but somehow still wanted to hear what he had to say. Thanos huffed, furrowing his eyebrows. "Why did you vote like that? If we play just two more games, we could pay off our debts and maybe.. try again?" He grabbed you by your shoulders, shaking you a little so you'd look up at him again. When that didn't work, he wrapped his arms around your waist and tried to pull you close, but that was your breaking point. Forcefully, you ripped yourself out of his grasp and started walking back to your group again: "Don't even start with that. You ruined my life."

In a twisted way, you felt bad. His proposal almost, almost, made you give in. It was just nice to see a familiar face and hear a familiar voice in this environment, it brought you comfort to know that there was someone you shared so many special memories with that you could turn to. And, you would, just if it wasn't Choi Su-bong. "Is everything okay? Was he giving you trouble?" Jung-bae asked, looking like he was ready to fight him. Actually, he was probably ready to fight everyone who voted 'O'. "No.. no, I'm okay." Without another word you sat back down next to Dae-ho, picking away at your fingernails.

"Who is he?"

"What?"

"That guy.. who is he?"

"To me? My ex boyfriend."

The man let out an 'aha', just nodding along. When he looked at Thanos and then back to you, he couldn't really believe it — That purple-haired guy was almost the complete opposite of you. You were pretty, seemed to be kind and gentle and Thanos was just kind of.. Dae-ho would say you're way out of his league. "If he's bothering you, just tell me, okay? I'll take care of it." You looked at the former marine, giving him a smile when noticing that he was serious about that. You thanked him quickly and looked away, feeling your cheeks heat up slightly.

After surviving the second game together, Dae-ho and you have gotten closer incredibly fast. He was mesmerized by you, to say the least, and you appreciated that you had someone to rely on at all times. That still didn't stop Thanos from perusing you, though, it actually was the complete opposite. A few minutes before lights out he tried to talk to you again, following you to your bed, which was right behind Dae-ho's. The two of you slept head to head together, only a metal bar separating the beds.

"Please.. just listen to me! I miss you.. I swear, I'll vote 'X' the next time!" Thanos' annoying voice rang through your ears and no matter how often you told him to leave you alone, he didn't want to understand it. At some point he got annoyed and just walked off himself, sighing and planning to try again next day. With a quiet groan, you let your head fall back against your pillow, Dae-ho watching you the whole time from his side. He felt like it wasn't his place to continue to ask you about the situation when you didn't bring it up yourself, but he was still curios as to why you'd ever be with that guy.

"Hey, are you okay? Do you need me to say something to him next time?"

"No.. It's fine, I can handle it. It's just- complicated, that's all." You were tired, your mind was reeling — People dying was stressful enough and now you had to handle your immature and manipulative ex boyfriend as well. "You don't have to answer this but," Dae-ho tucked some of his hair behind his ears, sitting up so he could properly look at you, "why did you date him? You're too good for him." His little comment made you chuckle, even though he was right and it probably wasn't all that funny. "I don't know.. to be honest, at that time I just felt like I didn't deserve any better."

Dae-ho was appalled by your words, his face scrunching up. How could you even talk about yourself like that? "You do deserve better. You deserve the world." His tone wasn't angry, but definitely a lot firmer than before, showing you that he actually meant what he said. "What?" you asked him, also slowly sitting up now. "I'm serious, you're kind and smart and deserve a better life, a better boyfriend." His words made your heart beat a little faster.

"He doesn't deserve you. I would treat you be-" As soon as Dae-ho noticed what he just said himself, he immediately stopped talking, looking at you with wide eyes. "You would treat me better?" Your voice was laced with amusement, maybe teasing him a little now. That question made him stutter a quiet 'Yeah..' and it was clear how taken aback Dae-ho was from his own words. He didn't want you to know, at least not now. He knew this wasn't an ideal place to develop a crush on a girl he could lose in an instant, but he couldn't control his feelings now, could he?

"A lot better even."

"Then show me.."

[wtfaniii]

Can you make one of how the squid game boys would react if you died in their arms??? 😭🙏

I like it! I hope you like it🤎

Reaction to your death

Fem reader! x squid game men

Warning: Some angst, blood, death and drama.

Note: Orders are closed until further notice! Thank you for your support and I will continue to respond to each and every one of them!

Seong Gi-hun

You promised not to leave him alone after the traumatizing experience he lived in those games, nobody believed him except you.

And just as you promised him you wouldn't leave his side, you went to the games with him even when he flatly asked you not to.

"I'll be with you through thick and thin"

For Gi-hun, your company was a ray of hope in the midst of this environment full of death, you made him laugh when no one was looking and you filled him with loving words every time he felt frustrated for not being able his objective.

But as the sunlight fades with the storm, him happiness is short-lived.

The ammunition for their weapons had run out and they had no choice but to surrender as the front man walked towards them.

—456, ¿did you have fun playing hero?

Him body tensed as the man pointed the gun.

He was not afraid of dying, he had already seen so many things that stopping breathing would be a relief to his tortured soul.

But when the front man pulled his gun away from him to point it at you, he felt like the air was leaving his lungs.

—Now you will suffer the consequences of your actions.

He could see the fear in your face and the tears in your eyes, even when you turned to look at him just to say a soft "I love you" he felt helpless not being able to do anything and in a matter of seconds the bullet went through the head of the woman he loved.

A scream full of terror, anguish and sadness left her mouth, tears clouded his vision and went to your body to hug it one last time.

There was failure, not only because he was nowhere close to stopping these games, but also because he had lost all his friends and now you.

Hwang In-ho

He met you a couple of years ago after the death of his wife, you comforted him and dried every tear he shed.

Even when he disappeared for a few months and came back only to ask you to come with him without question you accepted without an ounce of fear or doubt.

You trusted him with your life and over time he trusted you with his, you became his right hand in these games, both of you led and maintained a specific order.

Until one day he came up with the idea that he would also participate just to keep his enemy, Gi-hun, under constant observation, "They say you have to know your enemies" he said confidently while dressing in the characteristic mint green uniform.

You weren't sure but you agreed to be the temporary leader under the square mask in the black suit just to make sure he would be okay.

You looked after him back so much that you neglected your own.

And when you least expected it you were shot by player 390 during a crossfire in the hallways.

In-ho didn't consider that Gi-hun and the players' rebellion would go this far, he kept pretending to be Young-il along with two other players but when he heard you gasp in pain after hearing a gunshot, his lie became secondary.

He killed the other two, faked his own death, and ordered Gi-hun and his team to be arrested, then headed straight to where you were, bleeding and dying.

—You're going to be okay... —He tried to convince himself more of his words, the bullet wound in your stomach looked like a fountain of your own blood.

Your hand on him cheek made him look up into your eyes,

You could see his teary eyes and his scared expression.

—Don't let these games end... No one who loves you wants to see you involved in this... —You wanted to go live in the countryside with In-ho, live in a cabin and have a family, you stayed only because he asked you to.

—Don't close your eyes —he begged firmly, holding back his tears—Don't you dare close your eyes.

It seemed like a demand, but it was a desperate plea not to let you die.

—Don't make me go through this pain again...

But you weren't breathing anymore, he sobbed a few more seconds with you before one of his guards took him to his grey suit and mask.

He was really enjoying pulling the trigger of the gun while aiming at Jung-bae.

Kang Dae-ho

You and Dae-ho met while serving your country and have been inseparable ever since.

Dae-ho had romantic feelings for you but he never told you for fear of ruining the friendship, he didn't know that your heart also jumped with joy every time he was around.

You did what you could to help him financially, you asked for so much money that before you knew it you were being threatened by people should never have gotten involved with because you owed too much.

Now, they were both in these games trying to survive.

—¿Can I tell you something? —He asked as they climbed the colorful stairs toward their next test.

—Yes.

Dae-ho wanted to tell you many things, among them that he loved you and that when they left here they should buy a nice house and two cats.

But his tongue got stuck in his throat.

—Better later.

You nodded with a soft smile.

Unfortunately you never got to hear him question, during the third game, Mingle, the last round consisted of making pairs and getting a cubicle, it was just a mistake in which he let go of your hand and another participant went into the small room with him.

Dae-ho screamed desperately trying to open the door even though the counter was already at zero, you could see him tears and his expression of terror when he saw you on the other side of the door.

—It's okay.... it's okay...

You comforted him even though you were scared, you tried to use your voice to calm him even though you were the one who was going to die, you did it like the other times he had panic attacks.

—Dae-ho, I lo-

A muffled scream and cry came from him as one of the guards shot you and you fell dead in front of his eyes.

He couldn't hug you, he couldn't tell you everything he felt and that made his world go into shock, his heart break into a thousand pieces and a part of him die with you.

Lee Myung-gi

You were an arms smuggler in debt to many people, you ran away and hid to survive when you met him and since then became inseparable.

The two were brought to these games promising that they would come out alive, pay their debts and go far away from here to have a new life.

You survived all the games, but when the players became more tense and started a fight with the guards, you thought you could help them, you had knowledge in weapons handling so you would be of great help.

—Whoever wants to come with us can do so —said 456, placing the weapons they had taken from the guards in front of the room.

You were about to take a step forward but Myung-gi, who was standing next to you, took your hand and looked at with almost pleading eyes.

He hoped you wouldn't go, it was going to be suicide, he sensed it, but you broke free from his grip and went with them.

When you heard him call you, you turned to look at him one last time.

—Everything will be okay, I'll come back and we'll finish this —You assured him with your usual confident smile.

When you disappeared through that door with the other players he felt a pressure on his heart.

A lump formed in him throat with each passing minute until after an hour the guards came to restore order and brought back player 456, the one who had started everything, alone.

He couldn't say a word when heard your number among the others eliminated, he just put his hands on his head and began to shed tears non-stop.

All him future plans with you fell apart in the blink of an eye, he lost you and the worst thing was that he was not by your side to help you or protect you, they promised that they would be there through thick and thin but he left you alone.

You would have managed to kill all those soldiers, you would have reached the control booth and ended it all to go back for Myung-gi, take the money and leave forever but your only mistake was turning back on 001.

Park Gyeong-seok

This was before he got into the games, you were his wife and while you were looking for money on the streets painting yourself as a mime and doing tricks, one night you were late to return home.

You took the subway and sat down in a spot, you were tired and hungry but proud that you had made enough money to eat well for two days, your daughter was going through a hard time now so you and your husband were practically fighting to survive.

You were calmly until you heard noises a few seats behind you, when you turned head to see a man assaulting an elderly woman, you were not going to stand by and do nothing.

[...]

Gyeong-seok had just put Na-yeon to sleep in her room, closed the door, and when he heard the front door open, he assumed it was you who had arrived.

—She just fell asleep, she wanted to wait for you but sleep overcame her —He said with a soft smile, your daughter was everything to you.

He walked towards the living room but when he saw you, his smile completely disappeared and his face turned pale.

—Honey...

You fell to the ground with your hand holding in the bloody stomach, when you tried to confront the assailant he stabbed you and you had to return home leaving a trail of your dripping blood.

He ran to you to hold you in his arms, he tried not to make too much noise so as not to wake Na-yeon and traumatize her.

—¿What happened? I'll take you to the hospital, don't worry, everything will be okay.

Gyeong-seok's expression was full of anguish and panic, you put your hand on his cheek and looked at him sadly.

You knew that taking you to the hospital would generate more expenses, the little money they had was for their daughter, she was your priority, besides, you knew it was already too late.

—You'll take care of her ¿right? Tell her I love her.

He began to cry and hug you against his chest, he also knew that taking you to the hospital would be in vain but he refused to let you go.

—I don't want to do this alone...

You apologized through tears, you didn't want to leave him either but life was slipping through your fingers.

—I love you so much...

And with those last words you took your last breath.

He cried non-stop with you still in his arms, rocking gently and leaving kisses on your head also saying how much he loved you, from that moment on he was left alone with Na-yeon, working overtime, without your help life became more difficult but without your company it was torture.

Hwang Jun-ho

You two had been married for two years, you were happy and carefree, or at least that's what you thought.

One day you discovered things about him that he hadn't told you, that he had a lost brother and that he had been looking for him for years.

You didn't judge him, you decided to help him in his search and that led them to infiltrate some twisted games where they made people play until they died for money.

The two of you kept a low profile as guards until one of the so-called "VIPs" wearing gold masks took an interest in you, it made your blood run cold but you couldn't raise suspicions or would die so you didn't protest when he asked to accompany him to a private place.

You let that man guide you, you knew that Jun-ho would soon come for you but couldn't help but feel your stomach turn with every step you took.

Before entering the exotic room you left one of your earrings outside so your husband would know where you were.

Just when this stranger was about to force you to give him a blowjob, you punched him and pointed the gun at him.

You had the upper hand until you heard the door open behind you and looked away from the man.

It was Jun-ho but that little carelessness made the man with the golden mask snatch the gun from you and shoot you in the chest.

The shot made time stop for Jun-ho, he saw you fall to the ground with a lost look and blood pouring from your body, he also managed to stop the man but his eyes were still on you.

—They're okay, okay, calm down, don't shoot me —The man stammered as Jun-ho made him kneel without removing the gun from him head.

—You just killed my wife... —He said with a stern, sad and upset expression on his face.

He wanted to kill him but he wasn't a murderer and you wouldn't want him to be one.

After getting all the information possible out of him about these games, he knocked him out and finally turned to look at you.

He brought a hand to his mouth to suppress a cry of pain, his eyes were watery and with his other hand he held the gun tightly, he couldn't protect you and that made him feel miserable.

He approached you and left a kiss on your forehead, closed your eyes and asked for forgiveness a thousand times for having to leave you there.

Even with a broken heart, he turned away from you and ran away.

N/A: I apologize for not writing anything about Thanos but I couldn't find any inspiration for him 😭

[bewaryofpity]

you are drunk. and when you’re drunk you get clingy, but quinn is at home and you’re out at some random bar in vancouver with your girlfriends, which also means that you’re whiny.

it isn’t even late yet, just past midnight, but three shots in and just as many drinks and you’re drunk enough to start rambling to your friends about how much you love quinn. he is such a caring and soft boyfriend, always makes you feel loved, doesn’t forget to kiss you goodbye when he leaves early in the morning and you’re still asleep, sends you flowers out of the blue but especially when he’s on long roadies. he’s the perfect boyfriend and the alcohol isn’t helping your cause because now you miss him too much to function and the worst part is that you can’t even tell him you love him.

“she’s so gone, should i call an uber?”

“i think you should call q-u-i-n-n.”

“why are you spelling quinn’s name?”

“oh quinn, he's so pretty.” you cry, not real tears, but you whine at the mention of his name. you’re not crying yet and that’s exactly what one of your girlfriends was trying to avoid. it isn't something that bothers them as much as they would like to because you and quinn are actually cute, seemingly stuck in your honeymoon phase forever, to this day pining on each other.

and your friends are harmlessly jealous of you. you look at each other like you hung the moon and the stars in the sky. they saw it when they picked you up from your place earlier in the night and quinn came all the way downstairs to say goodbye to you and he kept on asking for one last kiss, you obviously giving in.

so to spare you from actually crying they called quinn, who was still awake despite having practice the next day because he knew well enough you were going to be needy at some point in the night.

and he giggles when he parks his car and looks at you, pouty and talking your friends’ ears off. you’re so beautiful he needs to take a moment before walking over to you and finally bringing you home. 

you don’t even realise quinn is standing beside you until your friends nudge you, interrupting your latest “he played so well yesterday, he looked so good too but he really needs to stop wearing that beanie because his hair is so pretty.”

“hi, baby.”

ideally, you could cry from how cozy and warm he looks in his big hoodie and sweatpants. it’s quite cold now, your choice of clothing not really ideal for this weather so you throw yourself at him to feel his warmth, finally able to love on him like you desperately craved all night.

“my baby is here!”

“let’s get you home, c’mon.” he blushes a little, teasing looks on your friends’ faces knowing he's still not keen on pda.

you don’t need him to tell you twice that you’re already jumping in the car and when he’s back in the driver’s seat you can’t help but bring him closer to you. quinn giggles as you start peppering his face with kisses, smacking sounds echoing in his ear. you’re a bit sloppy because you’re drunk but he’s drunk too — on your love, so he doesn’t mind at all.

and he doesn’t really mind how ridiculous he looks right now after catching his reflection in the rearview mirror. face full of lipstick prints, everywhere, some more defined than others, but they’re there and you look at him so proud of your work, your lipstick all smudged.

“happy?”

“mh mh, very, thank you so much.”

you give him one last peck on his lips before you sit back down in your seat, admiring the blush peeking on his cheeks and thinking of how lucky you are to kiss his pretty face everyday. 

you don’t stop there, once you’re both in the comfort of your own apartment, sitting on the bathroom counter after quinn insisted on taking your makeup off for you, you keep him between your legs so he doesn’t escape from more of your kisses.

“stop,” he lets out a breathy laugh, “the sooner i take off your makeup, the sooner we can get to bed.”

“but you’re so pretty.”

you know he’s right and you’re tired now, the remaining alcohol making you sleepy. but even after completing your night routine and lying in bed, you can’t help but wrap yourself around him like a koala, lazily pecking his back before falling asleep with a small smile on your face.

[carylmeanslove]

Luke's Floral touch to their meal.

Nicola posted a story picture of a romantic birthday dinner for two from last night. This post of course is just speculation. There are loads of clues as to who's with her. The photo taker seems tall, her smile is so obvious a smile she does with a certain denim blue eyed gentleman, it's a freaking Italian restaurant, the cutlery placement. There is some who even see something in the reflective surfaces. I haven't tried looking that close to that one. I am confident it's Luke.

Anyways...I am going to analyze the flowers in this post, because Fran asked me too. So here you go Fran, love ya!

I have looked on a site to see if there are vases on every table as a house decoration. There isn't a vase of flowers on every table, you can go look on TripAdvisor. So yeah, there is a vase of two medium sized bloomed roses here that Luke could have brought with them or most likely was asked to be added on his behalf when making the reservation. There is one yellow rose and the other a red rose. The red doesn't look very vibrate red, but I am taking lighting into account here. The low romantic lighting would lighten it.

Yellow Roses

As you can see it symbolizes the core of their relationship. They are each other's best friend. It makes sense that he would pick this bloom. It represents the core of their relationship. Where it started. The friend part of friends to lovers. That part never goes away. The rest is just added. This is just his way of representing the loyalty, devotion and care of their relationship. I also like to add a spouse is a relative. Not to mention also a symbol of happiness. Spot the perfect birthday gift part.

Red Roses

Now on to the lovers' part of their Friends to lovers' story. It is a clear, like their connection is clear to those of us who can understand it, of their love. The symbol of a deep, passionate, romantic love. They are classic expression of love, longing and desire. As well as respect, admiration and devotion.

Yep, it checks, because like their characters these two are also friends to lovers in real life. Reel to Real, indeed. Thanks for the bread crumb and another bit of a look at yours and Luke's beautiful life, Nicola. We love you both so much and we are so happy for you. Glad you had such a wonderful birthday.

[ylangelegy]

like real people do ☢️ seungcheol x reader.

little is known about the apocalypse of 2017. a century later, archivists are now unveiling the relics they found from those who lived through that time.

★ seungcheol x reader.  ★ word count: 2.1k ★ genre: alternate universe: apocalypse, alternate universe: soulmates (the only way for your scars to disappear is when your soulmate kisses them goodbye), angst, romance. ★ warnings: major character death. depictions of death/violence, injuries/scars. established relationship; suggestive scenes but no real smut. set in a fictional apocalyptic world. doubling down on the angst warning; i cannot say with any certainty that this is a happy ending. ★ footnotes: this is part of my follower milestone event. viv gave me an inch (a request for angsty seungcheol) and, in turn, i am giving her a mile (a whole thing instead of just a ficlet). mahal kita, @heartepub! this will be the last hozier brainrot i offer you— for now. + much thanks to @gyubakeries and @tusswrites for beta reading! love you both to the end of the world. ❤️‍🩹

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺ like real people do by hozier. apocalypse by cigarettes after sex. i know the end by phoebe bridgers. fourth of july by sufjan stevens. interlude: i’m not angry anymore by paramore. atlantis by seafret. end of beginning by djo. nobody’s soldier by hozier.

When the fish started dying, you did not think: This is how the world will end.

Why would you? The decimation of marine mammals and seabirds didn’t make the news. The misguided scientific breakthrough that triggered everything was kept under wraps.

It isn’t until much later, until the damage is irreparable and the Rapture is imminent, that you will realize it. 

The world as you know it is ending— but at least you have Seungcheol.

There’s some cruelty in the timing of it all. The two of you had just moved in with each other, coasting on the honeymoon phase of a long-term couple with a new thing to share. The paint on your apartment’s walls had yet to dry when the government declared a state of national emergency.

Dozens of other countries followed suit not long after, all blaming one thing or the other. Food crises. Social unrest. Cultural collapse. 

“This is crazy,” Seungcheol grumbles. 

The television is playing clips of a hurricane tearing through the Philippines. Extreme weather conditions, the reporters are saying. Due to the rise of CO₂ levels. 

You and Seungcheol are sprawled out on the floor, watching it unfold. The furniture store meant to deliver your couch has delayed shipment until further notice. 

Seungcheol has always been the sulky type, though the expression on his face nowadays has been less of his trademark pout and more of a serious frown. You can feel his growing agitation in the stiff way he holds you, in the set of his eyebrows. 

“It’s crazy,” you agree quietly, resting your hand on his knee in a bid to calm him a bit. “But it’ll pass.” 

Your touch seems to give some sort of reprieve. He rolls his shoulders. He unclenches his jaw. 

“It’ll pass,” he echoes, reaching out to intertwine your fingers. 

Neither of you knew just how wrong you could be. 

April 8, 2017 

Weird times. Cheol knows just how anxious I get when I’m cooped up, so he encouraged me to pick up journaling. I’m not sure how much this will help, but it’s worth a try. 

It’s been a month since everything has essentially gone on ‘lockdown’. The news says that all of this started because researchers wanted to regulate harmful algae. Their genetically engineered virus ended up infecting all algae, and now the majority of phytoplankton are just... dead. 

I don’t know what to write about. Terrible oxygen levels? Seafood costing a fortune? This ‘work from home’ system everyone is trying to figure out? 

I guess I should just write about the good stuff. That way, when I look back on these entries, I can remember something good.

Today, Cheol tried to fix a leaking faucet himself instead of calling for a plumber. We flooded the kitchen floor, and ended up wet from head to toe.

I cooked pasta, called mom and dad on Skype, and watched the latest episode of Santa Clarita Diet. 

Once everything opens up again, Cheol and I have to visit my parents. (And ‘get better screwdrivers’, he claims.) 

When Seungcheol first kissed you, you did not think: This man is my soulmate. 

It had been a clumsy, shy thing, traded way back when the two of you were high schoolers still stealing away from your eagle-eyed parents. Seungcheol liked to wax poetics about how it was perfect even though you know that first kiss was more a clash of teeth than anything. 

You don’t discover the truth of everything until a couple of years into dating. Seungcheol had gotten into playing basketball, and, one evening, you absentmindedly pressed your lips to a scar he had at the bend of his elbow. 

The mark smoothed out instantly. 

Seungcheol had giggled at the development before spending the rest of the night kissing every inch of your skin that he could reach— injured or not. You still think it’s one of your best memories as a couple. 

Kisses that healed scars. You hadn’t believed in the stories yourself until it had happened to you, until you realized how fortunate you were that your soulmate wasn’t halfway across the world or something. No, you had your soulmate, and he was more than willing to kiss away all your wounds. 

You had counted yourself as lucky. You still think you are, even now, as Seungcheol strokes your hair and holds you to his chest in the pitch black darkness of your apartment. 

His voice is quiet and small when he speaks up. “I’m sorry.” 

“What for?” you mutter back. 

“I’m sure this isn’t what you imagined,” he says. “For us moving in together and everything.” 

An amused snort escapes you. Of course that would be your boyfriend’s concern. There’s the rotational power outages and the merciless prices of goods due to inflation, but Seungcheol is worried about your expectations not being met. 

You shift in his hold. The days have been getting warmer and warmer, and the evenings are no exception. Seungcheol has taken to sleeping shirtless. You’re a couple of celsius away from doing the same. 

“It’s not your fault that we decided to move in together for the end times,” you say into the skin of his bare chest. 

He gives the small of your back a light thwack. “What have I said about the apocalypse jokes?” he chides lightly. 

You roll your eyes. He shouldn’t see it in the darkness, but he knows you all too well. “And don’t roll your eyes at me!”

His reprimand draws a short laugh from you. Even that feels like a monumental effort, like it's a waste of good air. 

Seungcheol doesn’t care. He doesn’t care about the two of you waking up in pools of your own sweat, doesn’t care that there are whole government newscasts on how to preserve oxygen in enclosed spaces. 

He holds you like a lifeline and kisses you until you’re breathless. 

“Cheol,” you whine against his mouth, the protest already at the tip of your tongue. The end is near; sex should be the last thing on your mind. 

But then Seungcheol’s fingers toy with the hem of your shirt, and he sounds so, so sweet when he mumbles, “Yes, soulmate?” 

That’s always gotten to you. 

“Unfair,” you groan as you work on shucking off your own clothes. “You’re so unfair.” 

In between giggles, he kisses every part of you. Again, and again, and again. 

June 15, 2017 

Cheol and I are on the run. 

He keeps telling me not to call it that because it supposedly makes us sound like criminals. I think it’s just funny, and God knows I need something to find humor in. 

As badly as I want to say “we have gone through worse before,” that would be a lie. We’re out of our apartment and trying to make our way to some place where there’s better air quality. In the meantime, we’re living out of his car. It’s so funny to me that I’ve started laughing until I’m crying. 

Anyway, the good stuff: Today’s sunset painted the sky purple. We snagged some still-cold cans of Sprite in an abandoned 7-Eleven. Cheol spotted a family of ducks crossing the road, pointed it out, and said “us, soon!”

Us, soon. It feels dangerous to hope, but that’s all I seem to do nowadays. That and being on the run. (Cheol made me strike out that last part, but whatever.) 

When Seungcheol finally admits to you that he is scared, you did not think: This means that things are much, much worse than I thought. 

Maybe because there were bigger concerns, like the car’s blinking fuel warning light and the scratches littering Seungcheol’s arms. Like the fool that he was, he had gone against your well-meaning advice to not look for help. 

He did not return unscathed. 

Your lips are pursed in a thin line as you rip open a Band-Aid. It’s one of the few that the two of you have left, and Seungcheol seems to remember the fact. He reaches out to stop you. 

“Hey, c’mon,” he urges, obviously trying to aim for levity. “You know there’s other ways we can fix me up, right?”

The frown that tugs at your lips shows that you’re still less-than-pleased at his little stunt. 

“Maybe if you didn’t head out in the first place,” you grumble. “We wouldn’t need any of this.” 

Seungcheol looks like he might push back, but seems to decide against it at the last minute. Instead, he wraps his fingers around your wrist and gives you a gentle tug. 

“It won’t happen again.” His tone is edged with remorse, enough to almost convince you. Almost. 

“No more playing hero?” you ask. 

A corner of his lip twitches upward. “No more playing hero,” he concedes before tugging at you again. 

You let him. You move closer into his space until you’re practically in his lap, until you’ve got a better view of the angry red cuts on his skin. 

Tentatively, you press chaste kisses to the injuries. Seungcheol’s hands find purchase at your waist and he tilts his head back, letting you work your magic. He’s quiet as your lips trace over each gash and wound, as you take away all the hurt with the ghost of a kiss. 

After a moment, he mumbles, “Is it bad that I want you right now?” 

“Seungcheol.” 

“Okay, okay.” A beat. “I want you all the time, actually.” 

“Shut up!”

The sound of his laughter fills the car. It’s enough to have you forgetting his murmured confession of fear, the vulnerability that he had tried so quickly to cover up with affection. For a moment, there is nothing else in the world except this, except you, except him. 

September 23, 2017

Is it weird to say that I’m starting to forget what it was like before all of this happened? Cheol is trying to assure me that it’s to be expected, that we’ll all be back to ‘normal’ soon, but I don’t even remember what normal is like anymore. 

I can’t forget. I don’t want to forget. And so here is a small list of things I took for granted: 

The first breeze that tells you winter is coming 

The kindness of people who don’t know you 

The smallest fish in the sea

Date nights with Cheol 

Clean water 

Breakfast

My parents

Cheol says there might be some biodomes ahead. Oxygen-regulated habitats. It sounds like something only the rich can afford. We don’t have a lot left between the two of us, and it’s getting harder to jump from building to building. 

But there’s something waiting for us on the other side— right? There has to be. 

May the best of my todays be the worst of my tomorrows. 

When the gunshot rang out, you did not think: This is it.

Seungcheol never gave you any reason to think that way. He had held your hand as you raided rundown grocery stores. He had positioned himself in front of you when there were stampedes. The world might have been ending, but he was with you.

He was with you even when the strangers you ran into started getting more aggressive. He was with you even when fights would break out over necessities like water and medicine. 

“People are dangerous when they're desperate,” he’d tell you softly— still his rational, kind self even when faced with the worst of mankind.

He was with you. He was kind. He was yours. 

Even when the bullet lodged itself right between his ribs. 

There is not much that you remember after that. 

The people dispersed. The cause of the fight— a can of chicken noodle soup, once your comfort food— lay forgotten on the floor.

The love of your life, staring unblinking at the sky.

When you sink to the ground, you’re moving purely on instinct. Your quivering lips press over his chest, over the red blossoming and staining his shirt. 

You kiss him. Again.

And again. 

And again. 

December 1, 2017

The kisses don’t work on bullet wounds. 

▸ Archivist’s note: The following entries are undated and some portions had been redacted/deemed untranscribable. We are led to believe that the author struggled to cope in the aftermath of their soulmate’s death. For posterity, we have still reprinted their final entries.

You’re so unfair. 

I still want you. 

Things I took for granted: ███████, you, ███████, youyouyou. 

What now? 

My love, it’s only a matter of ███████—

▸ Archivist’s note: Nothing follows.

This concludes our transcribed logs. The full collection can be viewed at the National Museum of Remembrance.

It is our deepest regret that the author is unnamed and that they cannot be properly credited. However, we know of two things with certainty. 

We know of a man named Seungcheol, and we know that he was loved. 

[themusingsofacurlyhairednerd]

Ludos Imperiales II

Summary: Princess!Reader makes a deal with the Emperor to try and save her mates.

Content Warnings: Violence, Blood and Gore, Gladiator Tournament, Physical Abuse.

Part One

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

I can’t breathe. The world spins in dizzying swirls around me. Mates.

Not one.

Not two.

Three!

All of them enemies of the Empire. Rebels scheduled for execution. Fate has always been a cruel bastard in all matters concerning me, but this feels like a personal attack on my existence. Someone in the Celestial Plain is laughing at this twisted attempt of a joke. How could I be so close to happiness and be forced to sit here and watch it be ripped from me one blood splatter at a time?

The Game Maker starts speaking again, his voice booming across the arena. I can’t make out any of the words; they’re all muddled together in my ears. This cannot be happening to me! It’s not fair! I’ve been the perfect daughter, even when it shattered me; I was a model student; I’ve upheld the law to the very letter; I make weekly sacrifices to the Mother; I built my own lararium to offer nightly prayers to the gods. I have been devought and loyal to both the gods and the Empire and this is the thanks I get?

I can’t tear my eyes away from where the three of them stand in the center of the Pit, waiting for the gates to open again. The violet eyed one, Rhysand-- gods even his name is pretty--won’t stop staring at my Father, challenging him to speak, to fight, to do something other than sit there like a coward while someone else kills for him. 

My Father must understand the challenge in that gaze, because he finally stands and goes to the edge of the booth, weathered hands splayed out against the worn stones bearing a flag with his crest embroidered upon it. “Citizens of the Empire!”

The crowd gives a raucous shout.

I simply scoot a little closer to Brannagh to be able to see around Father.

My movements do not break the silent battle happening with Rhysand, but it does draw the eye of Azriel, who’s bloodied head tilts to the side quizzically as he takes me in. I feel a blush creep its way up my cheeks, the booth suddenly too hot as I try to meet his gaze. That hazel gaze bears an intensity that keeps me in place, but I cannot help but feel like I’ve been stripped bare, as if he can see straight into my chest, where my heart still pounds an uneven beat. 

“Before you stands that which threatens our peace, our security, and most importantly the prosperity that our people hold so dear.”

The tall one, Cassian frowns at that, but Rhysand grins, as if he has won whatever silent battle he’s been having with my Father. He tips his head back and bellows, so that not a single soul here misses it, “There is no prosperity or peace in the Empire! There is only enslavement and death!”

The boos that had started coming from the crowd die, as if someone had collectively cut off their air supply. 

The muscles in my Father’s back tighten as he realizes what is happening.

“Outside these walls we all starve! Supplies to every corner of the Empire have dwindled to single bags of grain, meant only to feed the soldiers that terrorize us in every corner of the world. You do not hear from your families in the far reaches because your mail is censored. Your loved ones have been dragged from their beds and crucified without trial. The only prosperity in this Empire is for Hybern himself.”

I finally tear my gaze away from Azriel’s silent study to look at Amarantha for confirmation that it is true. 

“You should have slit his throat on the battlefield,” Dagdan snarls in her direction. 

The power seeping from my fingers tears a hole through my skirts, singing across my thighs. The errant strand only hidden by the way I keep the fabric bunched in my hands. I do not allow myself to wince against the sting and give myself away.

“Those were not my orders!” Amarantha snarls, her teeth flashing as she stands. Her slaves jump out of her way, cowering against each other for safety. “Your Highness, silence him before he incites a riot!”

No! No! No! This can’t be happening to me! Not again. It is like watching my Mother be taken away all over again. I had just stood there. Unable to cry or scream or fight. I could only watch. That was what she trained me to do. She had even nodded her approval to my stillness as they’d dragged her away, as if it had been right. None of it was right. None of this was right!

“Your Master will tell you pretty stories but we are all his slaves in the end. Illyria has had enough! We will not sit by and let our women and children starve! If that makes us rebels and traitors to the crown, so be it! But what would you do if it was your children in the streets? Your wives being carted off to service foreign elites? Your sons forced to kill and die for an Empire that can’t even feed you?” Rhysand screams.

My Father, silently, motions to one of his Praetorians, a crossbow already swinging from the clip at his back. 

The pounding of my heart in my ears will swallow me. Everything in the world slows and narrows into the motion of an arrow being fit into the crossbow.

Move! Move! Move! A dark ether of my power slithers up my wrists, catching Brannagh’s attention. She must make some snide remark about it, because I, distantly, see her lips move but no sound ever reaches my ears. I have to stop this. I have to do something!

I’m on my feet without conscious thought of what I’m doing. “Father, wait!” My hands reach for him, the sizzle of pain as my power skitters across his skin enough to make him turn and face me. I don’t know what I’m doing, or what I’m saying, the words spew as if they have a mind of their own.

“If you kill him now like this you will incite a riot!”

His face twists, a snarl slipping past his clenched teeth. I have royally pissed him off, disgraced him here in front of his Inner Circle, where they watch from nearby booths. The thought would usually send me cowering like a dog with its tail between its legs, but the fear I feel for him is nothing against the fear I feel for them. The thing that links our souls together burns and rattles beneath my rib cage, needing to defend, to fight.

“Call off your guard!” I hiss, reaching out a hand and letting that dark power that lives inside me show. I’ll strike him dead if he so much as moves a finger towards the trigger. “Let us be diplomatic about this.”

“Who are you,” Father snarls, taking an advancing step towards me. The booth shakes as his own dark power rises to meet mine. “To challenge me, child?!”

I hold my ground, even though my body trembles. It is only the dutiful teachings of my Mother that keep my chin up instead of bowing it to my chest as every muscle screams for me to do. “I am not challenging you, I am trying to think about our people.”

I clench my fists again, dimming my power in feigned submission. “Go about this a different way. Show the people that ruthlessness is not always the answer to our nation’s problems.”

“Are you suggesting I spare an enemy?” Father snarls.

I honestly don’t know what my plan is here. I’m just throwing things against the wall and hoping something, anything, sticks, otherwise my only option is to fling myself down into the Pit and hope the power thrumming in my veins is enough to save my mates.

“No,” if I am to keep all of our heads, I must be crafty. I must play the games my Father plays. My gaze flicks to where Amarantha’s slaves remain huddled together, a desperate thought forming in my head. My stomach turns at the mere idea, but if it can save them…?

“You mean to entertain the people and quell all possible chances of further rebellion, but we have seen time and time again that no execution or crucifixion has done that. We merely make martyr after martyr. We encourage others to take up the cause.”

“Let them fight,” I’m going to be sick! It feels like there’s a knot forming in my chest. “And if they survive, let them live, let them be gladiators.” It’s unthinkable, it puts them in danger time and time again. “The betting will be astronomical. The people will return time and time again in hopes of seeing them fall. That money can provide support to the edges of the Empire. Prove him wrong by sending extra aid to those outside our walls.”

To his credit, my Father does listen to me ramble. The Mother has smiled on me for once, if he had been in one of his fits today he would have had Amarantha kill me where I stood. It is a miracle the Praetorian didn’t take me out for wielding so close to him in the first place.

 “And you would have them what? Live in the slave quarters where they can incite a riot with all the dregs?” Amarantha hisses.

I’ll lose him if I let her forked tongue keep whispering in his ear. I am not blind, I know that she has more favor with him than I ever have. “No. Leaving them free to whisper with the other gladiators would be a mistake. Let someone claim responsibility for them.” 

The plan forms in my mind as I speak. I don’t like it. I’m not sure that it’ll even work, but I have to try and save them. I cannot let them die while I stand here uselessly watching as I did with my Mother. I will never be useless or silent again. “Give them to me.”

Brannagh chokes on her wine behind me.

Amarantha’s jaw actually drops in shock.

“I will take responsibility for them. They will be monitored by my guard. To our people it will look  like you mean to humiliate three great warriors, by shackling them to me. It is no secret what our people think of me.”

Dagdan’s snort is proof enough how weak I look in the eyes of our people. I am nothing but a sheltered, pampered princess to them. Up until today they didn’t even know that I’d inherited my Father’s powers. Good, let them all think me weak and useless and meek, they will never know the claws and fangs that hide beneath my skin until it is too late. Father included.

“She is not strong enough to keep them in check,” Amarantha hisses. “If you are to do it, give them to me.”

I barely reign in my powers, barely keep my teeth behind my lips. They are mine and I will be damned before I let her put her grubby little paws on them! 

“You may monitor them as often or as random as you wish, Father,” I speak over her instead, fighting to keep his attention. “I will move back into the Palace. I will sit in every meeting. I…” There is one sure thing that will guarantee his approval of this awful plan of mine. “I will marry whoever you choose for me.”

His dark brows raise in surprise. “And what would prompt this sudden loyalty to me, child?”

I raise my chin. “I have sat too long in the dark, and I could not see it until…” I have already bartered my soul, what will some more empty words mean in the end? “I could not see it until you removed that traitor and her poisoned tongue from the house. I see it now. I have failed our people and I mean to make it right.”

He flicks his gaze over his shoulder, down into the Pit. “The gorsian stone should keep Rhysand in line. And with enough guards, you might be able to keep them locked up. If they should survive the fight.”

“Sometimes death is a mercy,” I say, the words tasting like bile. 

He takes a step closer, so we’re nearly nose to nose. “And if you fail to keep them in line, it will be you that dies in this arena, do you understand?”

Better me than them. 

“You cannot be serious, Your Highness!” Amarantha squeaks, her voice shrill.

I nod, trying not to gloat in my victory over her. “I understand.”

Father grins, pleased with himself as he snags my hand and brings me back into view of the arena. “Please forgive the delay, the Princess and I were just discussing what our guests had to say about the state of our Empire.”

I feel three sets of eyes settle on me like a brand. The bond, still so new and raw in my chest, feels like chains rattling against my ribcage. I cannot tell if it is their anxiety or my own. 

“Let it be known that this Empire is a democracy, and that I, as your Emperor, care about the state of affairs that all of our people live in.”

 I try to meet the gaze of the senators and highly decorated soldiers sitting in the booths that line the upper ring of the arena. These will be the most upset by the news. The next ring of wealthy merchants and shopkeepers, tradesmen and fleet keeps will be the ones that take what they hear here back to the streets. Word will spread. The people will know what happened here, how the Emperor suddenly decided to care about them. It will be a small victory, but a victory nonetheless.

I try to not look down at the Pit; try not to think about the life I’m condemning them to. 

“Our beloved Princess is very concerned about your well-being,” Father continues and there’s a collective cheer from the lower levels. “And so, we have decided not to execute these rebels today.”

The tone immediately shifts to one of confusion.

“They will compete as gladiators. Should they prove resourceful enough to survive, they will be branded as gladiators, and sponsored by our Princess.” Great, not only do they have to survive the damned arena, they have to survive any threats from other gladiators who will seek to take out well-sponsored competition. 

Even from our vantage point I hear Cassian curse in disbelief. 

“She has so graciously decided that all their winnings will be sent to any hurting corners of the Empire, should there be any to be found.”

The crowd takes a moment to process what he says. It even takes me a minute to comprehend the last part. He’d really send all the money that I’d earn as their sponsor to the poor? That’s a hefty bit of charity, even for him. There has to be some sort of catch?

“So, let these males fight! Let’s see how far they are willing to go for their people.”

There it is. They could choose to sit down and die in the arena, making themselves martyrs as Amarantha thinks they intended, and then, instead, they would look like they were not willing to make sacrifices for their people. If they fought, competed for whatever earnings were bet on them, then they would be heroes. A symbol of strength only the great Emperor Hybern could make. Father really is the best at these political games.

The crowd roars as trumpets blow three times.

Father motions me back to our seats.

“You don’t really think they can win, do you, cousin?” Dagdan questions.

The ground shakes as a giant strolls out of the tunnels. The creature is so large he has to bend over nearly double to fit. When he stands to his full height, his bald head is practically even with the edge of our booth. Terrible scars crisscross over his body like spiderwebs. Hybern went to war first with the land of Giants, the war had lasted decades. My Grandfather had taken many giants as slaves and forced them to kill each other in this arena. Some gladiators were able to earn their freedom, but the devastation that the Giants had wrought on our people made my Grandfather declare that no Giant could ever be made free. The poor creature had probably been chained here, fighting in the Pit long before I was even born.

“They survived Amarantha,” I retort.

The General bristles. “I thought you didn’t place bets on the first day?”

I reach for another glass of wine, trying to settle my nerves. “There’s a first time for everything.” Perhaps making an enemy out of her is unwise, but the bond chafes against my ribcage at the thought of her being anywhere near any of them. Better to keep her attention on me than on them. 

Another horn blows, prompting the giant to move and I hold my breath as he reaches a meaty hand down to grab one of the Illyrians. The males scatter, Cassian going into a roll between the Giant’s legs, using the blind spot to his advantage while Rhysand drags Azriel out of the way with an arm around his waist. He’s practically carrying Azriel now, who’s broken wings seem to be getting heavier by the minute. 

Cassian roars as he stretches out a hand, a wave of red tinted energy blasting from his palm. The arch or power slams into the Giant’s calf, blasting away a chunk of skin and muscle, splattering blood across the nearest wall. 

The Giant roars as he falls to one knee.

Cassian sprints behind him, out of reach of the hand that comes sweeping down at him. This time, he’s the distraction as Rhysand uses the hand not holding Azriel upright to unleash a blast of dark, obsidian power. 

My own magic flares in response. It is a darkness so like my own, the sight of it a siren call that has me leaning forward in my seat. If he can unleash a blast powerful enough to leave a gash across the Giant’s bare chest with those gorsian chains around his neck, how much damage can he do without it?

The Giant’s cries of pain echo throughout the amphitheater; using the distraction, Cassian continues to blast away at it’s leg while Rhys throws blow after blow at it’s chest. They fair far better than I anticipated they would, but I know better than to let hope get the better of me. It is far too easily ripped away in this arena. 

As if on cue, the gates open again and a pack of wargs come sprinting into the arena.

The crowd erupts in cheers, and my heart once again thunders in my chest. What have I done? It takes all my training to not start chewing on my thumbnail. How am I supposed to save them from this?

Amarantha claps gleefully as one of the wargs breaks away from the pack to lunge straight for Azriel’s throat. 

No! No! No- Azriel raises a scarred hand to blast the beast backward with a wave of blue tinted magic. There isn’t enough time to sigh in relief, not as the rest of the pack splits in two, one circling Rhysand and Azriel, the other taking a shot at the Giant. Those rows of razor sharp and needle thin teeth sink into the Giant’s already bleeding leg, momentarily distracting it as it swings wildly around the arena, arms pinwheeling as it fights to balance on one leg while the other flails in an attempt to shake the beasts off. 

“They’re not supposed to attack the Giant!” Brannagh whines. 

I gulp down my wine, hoping it will push the wave of nausea that rolls through me down. I’ve signed their death warrants. I’ve gotten my mates killed. 

Cassian, in the chaos, has managed to find half of a spear, the blade rusted from the recent rain, but he hurls it with acute precision nonetheless, piercing through the oddly shaped skull of a warg snapping at Azriel’s wings. 

Rhysand and Azriel have moved to stand back to back, their varying shades of magic weaving between their fingers as they prepare to strike the snapping beasts that circle them. 

The Giant topples over as the three wargs held tight to it’s wounded calf find a nerve. There’s not enough room in the arena to let him fall without incident. The poor creature topples right into the wall opposite us, knocking away a section of stone and nearly dragging a Senator and his mistress into the Pit.

The Praetorians launch from our booth to aid the screaming couple.

It might have been funny under different circumstances, but I cannot peel my eyes away from my mates as the blast beast after beast away with their magic. Even wounded, even stunted by the chains, they are the most powerful wielders I’ve ever seen. Even if Cassian’s and Azriel’s magic sprays with less precision than usual without the siphons Illyrians are known for, every blow is calculated. They do not miss. Warg after warg falls, their leathery skin blistered or blasted away from multiple blows. Even wounded, the males remain in perfect sync, filling in any gaps the other might lack. They manage to kill five of the eight beasts, the other three still mercilessly tearing through the Giant’s leg, even as the guards try to push him off the wall.

Brannagh laughs at the tears that fall from the Giant’s eyes as he swats uselessly at the beasts. No matter how many times his massive fists slams against them, they will not let go. His blood runs like a river through the center of the Pit.

Many of the crowd laugh too.

These are my people? This is what I am to inherit? This misery and suffering and apathy towards the suffering of others? We are monsters!

As soon as I can get my mates out of this godsforsaken Pit, I will find a way to get them far, far away from this place, where it can never hurt them again. And then, when I know they are safe, I will make sure that this place burns.

Rhysand seems to take pity on his opponent, as he steps away from Azriel’s back to blast one of the remaining wargs off the Giant’s calf. From the distance across the arena, the blow is not a killing one, and aggravated, the warg turns its attack to Rhysand.

My breath hitches in my throat as he lowers himself into a crouch, hands splaying in the damp earth. There is a sword a couple feet from him, if he runs, he might make it there first. But he doesn’t run, he waits until the beast gets close before hurling dust in it’s eyes. While it’s distracted, a rope of star studded magic unfurls from his palm and wraps around the beast’s throat. Instead of killing it, he hurls it back at the others, knocking all of them free from the Giant’s leg.

The crowd boos.

My heart clenches in my chest. He could have let them end this fight now, could have let those beasts tear clean through the Giant’s leg and won by default, but he didn’t. He chose to fight fair, to do the dirty work himself.

The three beasts turn on him as he sprints for the sword. There’s just enough time for him to get a firm grip on the hilt before the first lunges, its claws tearing through his forearm as he fights to get the angle he needs to win. Blood splatters, those handsome features twisting in pain as he adjusts his stance. Cassian runs towards him, but he won’t make it in time. 

There’s no more wine to distract me, I’ve fully bitten through my lip now. Please if there are any gods left to hear me, don’t let him die here!

Rhysand moves with the grace of a well-practiced swordsman, each step flowing into the next like a dance as he cleaves through one beast's head, and severs the paw of a second. In mere seconds, he manages to dispatch the rest, leaving the mangled bodies at his feet. His chest heaves as he fights to catch his breath and under different circumstances I might have been too distracted by his beauty to notice the Giant move. 

Rhysand might have been the better male, but that didn’t save him from the Giant’s hand as it swatted him across the battlefield like he was a pesky fly. I bite deeper through my lip to keep back a scream as his body bounces across the muddy floor until he meets a wall. 

Cassian and Azriel roar in outrage and the tether that sits in my chest rattles so hard against my rib cage I think it might rip right out of me. This can’t be happening!

The Giant rises on shaking legs, then falls back onto its knees, using its meaty fists to bash against the arena floor, in what looks like the world’s deadliest game of Whack-A-Mole. Red and blue magic flashes across the arena as the Illyrian’s throw blow after blow, leaving bleeding gashes in the Giant’s fist. Across the arena, Rhysand rolls onto his back, forehead covered in blood as he struggles to get upright. He’s alive at least. Barely. But alive.

I vow to the Mother and any other god that can hear me that if they survive the fight I will find somewhere safe for them. I will do whatever it takes to keep them out of this arena for good. 

“They are persistent, I’ll give them that,” Dagdan muses. 

I feel rather than see my Father’s frown as he takes in all the chaos with the experience of a seasoned strategist. I know that he is calculating their odds, mapping out every possible outcome. I wonder if Cassian launching into the air, wings beating so hard to get him airborne that I feel a gust of hot air on my face, was part of his calculations? If he could have foreseen the blast of energy Cassian’s hurls into the Giant’s eyes, blinding him?

The Giant abandons his attempts at smashing them to grab at his eyes, large hands clawing at his sizzling flesh. The whole arena can smell burnt skin, but Cassian doesn’t let up, he aims blow after blow at the Giant’s head, until he finally falls over backwards, neck slamming hard against the already broken stone.

I look away, stomach in my throat as the resounding crack fills the amphitheater. 

The crowd roars in disbelief as Cassian tucks in his wings and descends back into the Pit. He hits the ground running, footfalls heavy in the mud as he rushes to Rhysand’s side. Azriel is not far behind him. With their combined strength, they manage to get Rhysand back on his feet. 

I pinch myself to make sure I’m awake. They’re alive!

Father stands and makes his way to the edge of the booth again. “For whatever reason, the Goddess has smiled upon you three today! Today, you will live. Let us hope you remain in Her favor.” He doesn’t sound super thrilled by the prospect as he turns his back to the crowd, slate gray eyes pinched as they fall to me.

“Walk with me.”

I stand, trying to keep my singed skirts in my hands so he cannot see the damage I’d done. Or the blood from my palms. If he suspects I was at all nervous for the outcome, I could ruin everything. I must keep my composure.

And not run down the stairs to the gates and throw myself at my mates like every fiber of my being screams at me to do. 

The guards follow as we exit the booth. In moments there will be chaos as beings scatter to find the Games Keepers and collect their winnings, or pay their debts, but for a moment, the crowd lingers in their seats, watching as the Illyrians are led out of the Pit.

“You embarrassed us today,” he hisses once we’re out of Amarantha’s earshot. The anger in his tone is enough to make me try and take a step away from him, but he throws an arm around my shoulders to keep me against his side. To any onlookers, we are just father and daughter having a chat. His voice is low enough that no one will hear the threats he hisses in my ear.

“You hide away in the River House for months, mourning a traitor who was plotting to overthrow me and now you make a spectacle of yourself! I should have you cast out into the streets!”

My only way out is to placate him. “I am sorry, Father.”

“Sorry,” he snarls, fingers digging tight enough into my shoulder to bruise. “Your apologies mean nothing! I swear, if you do not do everything you promised to do today, I will throw you into this arena! And I will use your own advice to keep you alive long enough to ensure you have a couple matches to prolong your suffering.”

I swallow the lump in my throat. “I meant what I said, Father.” Mostly. Perhaps I can secure passage for all of us out of here and we never have to think about the Empire again. The more I think about it, the more pleased I am with the idea. Yes, I just need to make it look like I am taking them as slaves, and once we’re out from the watchful eye of my Father, we can all run far, far away. Maybe I am more clever than I thought.

He leads us down the steps to a door that will eventually lead us to the gladiator cages and a guard swings open the heavy iron for us. Once we’re out from under the eye of the people, the rough stone walls closing in tight--a means to ensure none of the larger gladiators can make a run for the door and escape--he releases his grip on me. 

Torches line the walls casting his face in near shadow as he pauses at the bottom of a second, smaller, set of stairs. I shiver despite myself as the door slams shut, sealing me in. I suppose at this point I should be prepared, but I’m not, and when his open hand slams across my cheek I lose my balance and slip down the last two steps of the staircase. 

“Don’t ever question me again!” He hisses.

The guards pretend to not notice, as they always have.

I grit my teeth against the ringing in my ears, against the hot tears that threaten to escape me, focusing instead on carefully getting back on my feet. Stay down too long he’ll kick in my ribs like he used to when I was a child. Get up too fast and he’ll assume he hadn’t hit me hard enough. I put over emphasis into finding a handhold in the wall, making sure I keep my stinging cheek against my shoulder. The tremor in my hands is not feigned fear, I’ve been terrified of him my entire life, but I do exaggerate it just as my Mother taught me. 

“Spoiled brat!” He grumbles as he stalks forward into the tunnel. “I coddled you too much.”

I glare at his back once I’m sure he’s no longer looking at me. I hate him! I’ve hated him my entire fucking life. He’s ruined everything. Taken everything from me. Everything I’d ever loved he’d wiped off the face of the earth, all because I had the misfortune of being a female. All because he couldn’t have a precious son.

I grit my teeth so hard they hurt as I brush my skirts off and follow after him. I will be glad when I am finally out of his sight. Far, far away from this stupid Empire. At least I have mates; someone out in this Mother forsaken world who will care about me; who won’t hate me just for existing. At least there is one thing he can’t ruin for me.

I am too distracted with my thoughts to note the paths we take. I distantly hear the sound of injured men groaning, catch a whiff of filth and animal waste, but it’s all a blur. This will all be a bad dream soon. Soon I will have my mates and I will never have to deal with him again. I can be happy. I will be happy.

By the time he finally stops walking, I’ve schooled my features into a perfect mask; have brushed a few loose strands of hair in front of my face to hide the red mark across my cheek. He will suspect nothing until it is too late. Then he can have his precious Empire. It will be the only thing left he can control.

A guard opens what looks like a cage door, the iron old and rusted, and the guards that have been trailing behind us step in first.

“Against the wall!” They bark. 

There’s no light in the cell, just the flickering of the torch on the wall behind us. I don’t know what to expect.

“Fuck you, Imperial Pig!” Cassian.

I bite my tongue to keep back the grin that threatens to escape me, my mask slipping. He’s not so hurt that he can’t put up a fight. The thought warms something in my chest. Headstrong, stubborn, if the sound of scuffling coming from inside the dark cell is anything to go by, and sarcastic--everything I need to counter my reserved nature. I need that energy. I need him. The surety of that makes me square my shoulders. 

“Easy, Cass.” Rhysand. His voice is smooth as silk, even if the words are a little slurred. “We don’t want trouble.”

“The fuck we don’t!” Cassian shouts. “I’m no one’s fucking pet!”

The guard at the door, once sure the others inside are secure, steps away to grab the torch off its perch in the hallway, and sets it into an old rung on the inside of the cell, bathing the room in its soft glow. 

Father steps in first.

For a moment, I hesitate, heart in my throat. I need them. I need that strength I saw in the arena. Need that fire Cassian spews. The surety that Rhysand carries himself with. I need them. And if I show any sign of that, they're dead.

The guard, now back at the door, eyes me quizzically.

I draw a shaky breath and school my features back into a perfectly bored mask. 

I can do this.

I will do this.

I won’t let Hybern take anything else from me, no matter the games I have to play. 

I tell it to myself over and over as I step into the cell.

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

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[onlymexsarah]

Burning Flames V || Eris Vanserra

Pairing: Eris Vanserra x Archeron!reader Summary: Since you became High Fae there were only two things that scared you: your deadly power and your attraction toward the male you should hate most after Tamlin, Eris Vanserra. Warnings: Eris thinking important stuff, Eris being Eris, probably grammar mistakes and my english. A/n: I’M SO SORRY FOR THE WAITING. I had a writer’s block and i didn’t want to write anything that would disappoint you. I hope you’re gonna like this, let me know if you want to be added at the taglist🫶🏻 Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4

As soon as you all arrived at the River House the mood lightened up. It was time to truly celebrate the Winter Solstice, and Feyre's birthday.

You were all in the sitting room, and when you said all you meant all. Even Nesta and Lucien were there, throught you thought that the presence of the latter was not entirely because his fondness to the Inner Circle.

You took a moment to look around you and letting the sight sink. They were all happy, everyone was talking about something and everyone had a smile on their faces. It was refreshing being in such a familiar occasion, but somehow you couldn't help but feel a bit of melancholy.

Feyre had found a beautiful family. Not perfect, because no one was perfect, but she had found people who loved her and would do anything for her. They would do anything for each other, and even if being Feyre's sister made you part of the group you knew you would never be more than that: Feyre's sister.

You had no special bond with anyone. Only Rhysand and Mor had taken interest in developing a relationship with you, but as you watched them talk with Cassian and Azriel you knew that you could never compare with that. The Winter Solstice was the night for wishes, and you deeply wished to find a family like that one day.

When the time of gifts arrived you were excited. When your family had fallen into poverty there was no money for gifts, so you had spent your birthdays and the holydays as normal days.

You had found out that you loved making gifts. It had something magical the whole searching the right things for everyone and find it. The one yuo were proudest was an enchated satchel for Nesta, where she could put every book she wanted and bring it with her weightless.

You had received gifts from almost everyone. but it was when Mor handed you a box wrapped with expensive, sparkling red silk that your heart skipped a beat. "I think someone is quiet fascinated by you after only few dances." said Mor smugly and she read from who it was from.

You tried to steady your hands and you took the gift and read the little note that was attached to it.

"A reminder that flames are the apotheosis of beauty if shaped by the right person. Happy Solstice, Eris."

You slowly unwrapped the delicate silk and opened the box. Your eyes widened as you caught what was inside. Everyone's attention was on you as you took the glass case that was inside the box and hold it in your hand in front of your face.

You felt everyone's breath stopping as you stared at the beautiful rose made of fire that burned inside the glass.

The glass was warm, and the fire was perfectly shaped as a rose, forever burning on its own. Something inside you flickered, something gold, soft that a moment before was not there. You didn't know what to say as every word disappeared from your mind. It was breathtaking. The beauty of it could not be compared to anything else you had ever seen.

"At least he has good taste for gifts." Mor commented crossing her arms.

You put the glass case on the table in front of you and quickly looked away from it, giving a Mor a tight smile. "What? Having second thoughts?" you said ironically to her, needing to change subject.

She snorted. "Hardly."

"Let's just appreaciate the kind gesture." Rhysand said with an amused smile. "Thanks to you we have his alliance back, let's celebrate that."

It didn't go unnotice to you your sister's tight expression. From the way she looked at Rhysand and the smile he gave her you were sure they were having a mental conversation, about what you didn't know.

The night passed smoothly, there had been no other awkward gifts thankfully. At some point your eyes threatened to close on their own so you excused yourself and went into your room.

You put the rose on the vanity in your room, and for a moment stared at it like it could explode. If Eris wanted to mess with your head then he was doing a great job.

You scoffed, fuck you Eris.

You swear you heard his low laugh deep inside you.

***

When a letter in red paper came for you with only a place and a time written on it you stormed into Rhysand's office, guilt eating you alive. You opened the door without so much as knocking, and told him everything.

You told him how Eris saved you during the war, how you had cured him because yes your power didn't go away but "my sisters lied too so you can't be angry at me". You showed him your hands and arms. You told him that Eris knew about your power but never said anything or threated you, and in the end you told him about the bargain you made.

"You were letting yourself burning from the inside out because you were scared to hurt someone?" Rhysand's voice was not in any way angry, actually he seemed more concerned.

You shrugged, your eyes fell on the ground feeling his heavy gaze on you. "You were all so happy after the war. My sisters still needed me and I didn't want to ruin anyone's happiness with this problem. I would have figured out something, eventually."

Rhysand stared at you silently, a mischievious spark in his violet eyes. "And you thought that making a bargain with Eris was the solution?"

His question wasn't accusatory. It sounded like Rhysand was curious about your maddness, and honestly you were too. There was no right answer to make it sound reasonable, so you gave him part of the truth.

"When he chose me to dance the responsability to keep him as an ally had fallen on me, and unfortunately I couldn't seduce him like Nesta would have done." You shrugged. "Cassian was right, Eris seems to enjoy to annoy me. When he proposed to train me I took it as my chance to keep him close to the Night Court and keep him close as an ally."

"And are you comfortable with this...arrangement?" Rhysand asked you carefully.

You noticed how his reaction had been completely different from what you had expected. You thought that he would look at you like the stupid girl you felt, almost pitying you for talking about Eris like he was not a monster. Instead, Rhysand had just listened, nodded and gave you an encouraging smile.

"Yeah, I'll need one of you to winnow me where we'll meet, but I would prefer if you tell no one but Feyre and Azriel." You said and saw in Rhysand's eyes that he understood the double meaning of your words:

"I don't want Mor to find out, for now."

"It can be easily arranged, but since you'll start to spend time on your own around Prythian I must ask you to start training with Cassian and Azriel whenever you can." he said kindly sitting on the chair behind his desk.

You tilted your head with a grin. "Are you asking as my High Lord or as a worried friend?"

"What about as a brother?" he matched your grin. "An overbearing one, as Feyre calls me."

You chuckled. "I'll start training with them tomorrow."

***

"Your brooding silence is louder than Nesta and Cassian during Winter Solstice." You snorted watching with almost disgust all the flowers around you. The border between the Spring's court and the Summer's court was a explosion of yellow, pink, orange and purple. All colours that made your eyes almost hurt.

You felt Azriel's death glare on your back as you pointly avoided his eyes. "I still have to understand why Rhys think letting you be alone with him is a good idea."

"Because Rhysand would be a hypocrite to deny me of this lovely bargain." An amused, deep voice said behind you making your toes curling in your shoes.

You turned around and saw Azriel watching Eris like he was imaginaing stabbing him, and somehow you knew you were right. "I'll stay with you." said the shadowsinger as if Eris' presence just reminded him how a bad idea that was.

"Tempting, but I'm not usually one who like to share." Said Eris with a cocky grin before looking at you. "Unless the lady wants to."

You narrowed your eyes at him, crossing your arms. It was annoying how most of the times you didn't know if Eris was flirting with you or trying to rile you up.

"Go Az." You looked at the shadowsinger with a kind smile. "I'll be fine."

"I'll be back in few hours." Azriel said to you before winnowing away, giving Eris one last warning look.

You watched for a few seconds the place where Azriel had been standing and took a deep breath. "Over the centuries I forgot how dramatic he could be."

You snapped your eyes on Eris, making a good effort to not notice how his green outfit made his eyes look of an impossible shade of emerald.

"He just doesn't trust you." you said ironically. "I wonder why."

Eris gave you a feline grin before offering you his arm. "There is a lake near by, shall we?"

You studied his arm with wary eyes. Inside you there were two sides that were fighting each other. The first one wanted to give him the chance that no one ever did, to trust him and gain his trust back, to get to know the Eris that if you tried hard you could see under his mask; the other part was yelling at you to not be stupid, that if the Inner Circle didn't trust him after five centuries there were very good reasons, and the worst part was that you knew most of them, and still it wasn't enough to make you feel even a hint of disgust.

So you had to pretend.

"Let's just get started." you hoped that your cold mask was at least half good as his as you walked past him toward the lake, ignoring his low chuckle.

***

From your sister's story of her training you had expected everything but this.

Eris had made you sat right in front of the lake with your leg crossed, your back straight and your eyes closed while he did the same beside you and gave you instruction with his voice.

He had told you to focus on your breathing while you had to map the environment around you just with your hearing. Was it even possible?

Spoiler: no.

Everytime you heard a sound your mind would wander around with random thoughts that become a deep dive inside your head. The birds over you reminded you of the days that your father used to bring you around the forest close to your old estate. Who knew who lived there now? Maybe the humans had chosen to let it fall to ruin after what happened to them. Maybe they would think it was cursed.

That's it. You had forgotten to calm your breathing. Again.

"Awknowledge the thoughts that came into your mind and let them go." Eris' voice vibrated right inside you making you shift slightly on your place.

"I thought you were going to teach me how to control my power, not how to control my breathing." You scoffed.

"Who said anything about training your power in the bargain?" He said almost bored.

Your eyes snapped open and you looked at him incredulous. He was smirking. That bastard was smirking and you wanted nothing more than to slap that grin away from his face.

"If you do not train me I could easily lose control and burn everything around us to ashes." You said slowly, angry that he thought he could trick you. "And you with it."

Eris opened his eyes, his grin only grew wider as he looked at you. "Oh, but that would be quite the sight." You clenched your jaw as your skin started to pinch with heat. He gave you an amused look before closing his eyes again and taking a deep breath. "Relax, Little Flame. We need to make you burst out that mass of power that you had been foolishly sealed inside you, but I won't make you do it until I know it's not completely safe for you."

"And completely safe for this place." You added while you fought the blush that was growing on your cheeks at the thought that Eris had just said that he wanted you safe.

You saw him shrugging, his eyes remained shut. "Helion wouldn't mind a little renovation." You scoffed rolling your eyes. How could he be so calm? You had expected to learn how to control your fire, and instead you were struggling to control even your breathing. "Believe it or not, but I'm trying to help you. Close your eyes."

His firm tone made you ashamedly tightening your thighs. You bit the inside of your cheek to prevent you from doing something stupid, like talk back and made him use that tone again.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm the heat that was starting to grow at the pit of your stomach, which you were sure wasn't due your flames.

"You were born human, but no one taught you how to be a High Fae when the cauldron Made you. Your body is stronger, faster. Your sight, hearing, and nose are sharper." Eris' explanation hit something very precise inside you. It was true, no one had ever stopped to explain to you how to use those new abilities. And it was fine, you had never really asked, knowing that as the older sister you should have to figure it out on your own. "We are at the border between Summer and Spring, with only your nose you should be able to tell where the border exactly is, but lets start easy. Use all your senses but the sight."

His calm and warm voice made it sound simple, and you believed him. It wasn't a even-a-child-can-do-it type of simple, it was more like a your-body-can-naturally-do-that type of simple.

You spent another hour like that, and by the end of it you were smiling broadly. You had successfully used all your new senses, and you were mesmerized by Eris' patience. Not once he had rushed you or had seemed to be tired.

"You're smiling." your head snapped toward him and you couldn't help the look of surprise that grew on your face. "You've never smiled like that when I was around."

You watched him with a hint of michievous in your eyes. As soon as you had successfully told him where the border was he had instructed you to stand in front of the lake and try to smell the animals around you. "You've never been silent around me before."

Eris laughed. The redhead in front of you, the Heir of Autumn, the General of the Autumn Court's army actually laughed and didn't incinerated you for your words.

It was an awful lie what you had said. His voice was probably the most beautiful sound you had ever heard, and you wondered if he laughed because he knew that deep down.

Cauldron, I hope not.

"Tell me if you sense some creatures in the lake." Eris smirked crossing his arms over his chest. "I'll gift you with more silence in the meantime."

You playfully rolled your eyes and took a step closer to the lake.

Deep breath.

Empty mind.

Eyes closed.

You felt the bird above you, the deers at your left, deep in the Summer's forest and even the rabbits beyond the Spring's border. But nothing came from the lake in front of you. Confused you opened your eyes and tried to catch some glimps of fishes or other creatures.

"Nothing." You said tilting your head a bit confused. "I don't think there is something in this lake."

"Good." Eris grinned michievously. "Then put your hands in the water and let your fire out."

You felt your eyebrows hitting your hairline as you widened your eyes and looked at him incredulous. "I am absolutely not."

"You absolutely are." he quickly remarked.

"What if there are fishes in there? I cannot kill them." You gestured to the pool of water in front of you, trying to understand what he intented.

"You said there is nothing in there." He shrugged becoming serious. "You need to start trusting your senses. There might still be days where you need to let your power out and you'll need to scan the area quickly to make sure no one is around."

His words carried something too personal for you to let them go. Was he speaking for personal experience? You wanted to talk back, you wanted to ask him if there were creatures in the lake, but something inside you stirred.

Eris might be the only one who could understand you, who knew what you were going through. He was the oldest son of Beron, you wondered what kind of pressures he had to live with. You wondered if he too had to learn how to use his fire beside a lake to not hurt anyone.

You slowly crounched on your feet and even slower took your gloves away. The burned flesh on your hands were red with remains of the green sticky cream that Madja had given you. The cold water send shivers of pure relief through all your body.

"You want me to light a fire under water..." You said skeptical looking at Eris over your shoulder.

"Darling, I'm positive your power could light a fire at the bottom of the ocean, if wield properly." You looked away from his lazy grin as your stomach twisted at his new nickname.

Water or not water you had to understand now how to call the fire at you. For weeks the flames had been burning all your body no-stop, you just needed to focus them in your hands.

"I do not suppose to know you, but I might guess that your power usually answer to your anger." he was standing behind you like you hadn't a burning fire inside you ready to explode, like you weren't a danger for him. "Focus that sweet mind of yours toward what anger you most."

You.

The answer was quick in your mind.

Eris Vanserra had the ability to make you angry with just a look, and there were so many reasons that you couldn't focus on just one. It made you angry when he used his mocking tone with you. It made you angry when he used a gentle tone with you. It made you angry when he looked at you like you were the only person in the room, and it made you angry when he avoided your gaze in a room full of people.

It made you angry knowing what he did to Mor. It made you angry that there were times when you didn't care. It made you angry that you thought that the male in front of you could never do shuch thing. It had made you angry that he had saved you. But you were even angrier when he hadn't seek you out after the battle.

Eris Vanserra made you angry because he didn't make you angry at all. He made you feel frustrated, amused, annoyed, flustered and seen, and you were angry because you shouldn't feel those things. Not with him.

You felt it then. You felt hot flames rising from your skin and you imagined that the water in front of you were your feelings, and they needed to burn. So, they burnt.

Bright, red fire appeared underwater around your hands and the water in front of you started to boil. You let it all out. Every flame you had pushed down in those months was now left free.

It felt so good to finally let it go. The flames were circling all your arms, from your shoulders down your elbows and to your hands. You had missed the warmt that came from inside your body, the ethernal sensation that no cold could ever touch your skin, never again.

***

Eris had never known an enchanting sight as the one he had in front of him now. Your flames were all around you while from the lake it was rising a cloud of steam that soon enough would catch someone's attention.

He felt your rage through the bond and everything you had kept inside. The steam of power that you were letting out was huge, destructive, beautiful.

He watched silently as your fire stopped and you let yourself fall back, sitting on the burned grass and staring the water with emotionless eyes. He dared to tuck softly the bond, trying to understand what you were feeling, then you laughed, and something gold flickered inside him at that sound.

It was a laugh that could make him burn courts to the ground for the chance to hear it again. It was the laugh that at some point he had dreamed while Under the Montain. It was the laugh of hope that no matter if people like Amarantha, Beron or the King of Hybern ruled merciless, there were still people with enough strenght to laugh.

"I've never felt so free in a long time." you almost whispered to yourself. You stared at your hands and Eris let out a sigh of relief as he saw that the skin was completely healed.

He saw as you took a deep breath and closed your eyes tilting your head back toward the sky, and Eris felt the need to make you stop looking so fucking perfect while he had no right to enjoy this view.

He cleared his throat bringing his hands behind his back. "Can I dare to ask what or who you were thinking? I wouldn't want to find myself in the middle of the two of you."

You gave him a indecipherable look. "Cassian's habit to steal my breakfast."

Eris didn't hold the scoff that escaped his lips. It was clearly a lie, but he understood that. He was no one for you, there was no reason for you to trust him with your thoughts, so he didn't push, even if his stomach twisted in a payinful knot.

He smelled a light scent far behind him, and he knew that was time for you to return back at home. "We should go back before the shadowsinger cut my throat."

He turned around, needing to stop that moment before he started to believe things that couldn't be true. Not yet.

"Wait." your voice stopped him and he curiously turned around to look at you as you stood up and brushed of the grass from your dress. You walked closer to him with a steady look that made him equally unsteady. "It's time for my part of the bargain. My question."

He rose slightly his eyebrows, surprised by your sudden determination. "Go ahead."

He saw as you tried to organize your thoughts, crossing your arms as to make you more secure of yourself. "Is this side of yours part of the mask?"

Eris tilted his head, a bit confused by your question. "This side?" What were you seeing in him? What did he let slip?

"Yes, this side." You gestured with your hands at his whole person. "You, helping me and not being a total arrogant. You always make sure to make the others doubt your intentions, to doubt you. While...while the one I have in front of me is not the same male I heard the others talk about."

Eris stood there for a moment, looking into your eyes. He heard steps behind him approach, steps of someone who usually doesn't want to be heard. He slowly reached out a hand, and tuck some hair behind your ear and he smirked as he heard your breath caucht in your throat.

"Maybe I'm just manipulating you." He whispered, knowing he had few more seconds to play with you. If he couldn't have you for himself, he at least could have those reactions from you. "Maybe I want you to think I'm the good guy to use you against your precious Inner Circle. It would be quite the revenge."

"You are not moved out of revenge." Your response left him speechless for a moment. "If you wanted revenge then half of Prythian would be death."

"I could convince you to kill them for me." he stated back. He had let his hand lingering behind your ear, and now he let it slowly trace down the curve of your neck.

You breath had become clearly shorter, he could feel your heart beating through your chest, but your face betrayed nothing. He could see something flicker in your eyes, the only thing you couldn't control, but the look you were giving him was caution.

It was a game now, seeing how far he needed to go to convince you he was indeed the bad guy. Not to you. Never to you. But to everyone else. He wasn't above killing to gain what he wanted. He had lied, killed, manipulated and swore false oath to ensure the security of his people, but for you? He would kill with his bare hands an entire court to give you a throne, and it terried him.

"I told you, I won't kill for you." your voice snapped him back from his mind. You grabbed his wrist with your hand, fingers still hot with fire, and shoved it away from your neck. "You didn’t-“

“It’s time to go.” A voice cold as death stopped you in mid sentence.

Eris didn’t acknowledge the shadowsinger behind him, keeping his eyes on you. “But we were having so much fun.”

“Step away from her.” Your eyes snapped on Azriel and something twisted inside Eris as he watched you smiling at the shadowsinger and walking toward him.

Will he ever be the one receiving that smile? Will you ever walk toward him that happily?

He watched as you took Azriel’s arm and the shadows started to grow around you, ready to winnow away.

“Little flame.” Eris called after you. Your eyes found his over the wall of shadows that was forming around you. It was time for the answer, he guessed. “No, it’s not.”

Your eyes widened, and it was a pity, seriously, that he couldn’t see the rest of your face before you disappeared, because he knew it would be hilarious.

taglist: @adventure-awaits13 @blueeclipsepaperstudent @huffleruffplant @azysmate @bia-wayne-west @babypeapoddd @lady-targaryens-world@sourapplex @ghostwritermia @asteria33 @pinklemonade34 @tell-me-a-poem @speedypersonawhispers @historygeekqueen @webvics @paliketerson @lizzytish82 @tincanhat @marrass @acourtofmoonlightandstars @yasmin-oviedo @ghostwritermia @marly500

[marbofmoorock]

Would love to see Kinger and Queenie, as well as Zooble and Caine drawn in this AU TOO. PLEASE MAKE IT HAPPEN! Fantasy Winter Wonderland, so perfectly in season. Maybe Caine and Zooble could have a dynamic of some kind, where Caine could be like Zooble's caring Uncle who wears goofy sweaters and tells funny stories about from his imagination about a fictional life in the circus as a ringmaster (he's a chatterbox beause his head is a mouth, lol), and Zooble is like an angsty college student caught in a feud betweenn divorced parents, moving in with her uncle to get away from all of the mess.

I'm gonna make a short story of it, would love to see accompanying art!!!

-----

Cainooble: A Winter Wonderland Special!

It was a wonderful Winter Wonderland of a day, Christmas had just passed, and everyone was out playing in the snow to enjoy the winter days before the new year. Pomni and Gummigoo laugh and play out in the snow on Gummigoo's new sled his parents got him for Christmas. Gangle watches them timidly as a sort of happy third wheel to their group, wearing a kimono and a fluffy coat as well to stay warm, preferring to watch them play. Ragatha and Jax share a hot cocoa in a nearby house as siblings, chatting away about what they loved most. Kinger and Queeenie in another house enjoy some quiet time together, with a few friends over, including Dobby Dog, Orbsman, and many others.

Then there's Zooble, frustrated 20 something, having just quit he4 job due to transferring colleges, unable to stay at her local college due to how much her parents fought. Zooble was so done with their fighting as an only child, she literally was having trouble with her identity, looking for support and help, but they're too distracted with yelling at each other over such silly things like money. She decided to put her foot down and move to the University in the next town, packing up her stuff to go live with Uncle Caine, his father's brother whom was usually fun to be around and actually cared about Zooble.

She drove up the somewhat icy road carefully, and found herself pulling up to Uncle Caine's nice house. He was A Bachelor who never married, so he had lots of room in his big house for hus precious niece! Zooble, while slightly disgruntled over all of what happened at home with mom and dad, was slightly relieved at seeing Uncle Caine's house.

Not too long after she carefully parked the car in the driveway, Caine came out of the house in a coat.

"HEY HEEEEEY, THERE'S MY FAVORITE NIECE!"

Zooble, seeing Caine, smiled weakly, happy to see Caine after all that she'd been through leaving the house to come live here.

"Thank you do much Uncle Caine. Mom and Dad haven't been their best lately."

"DON'T YOU WORRY YOUR PRETTY LITTLE HEAD, YOU'LL HAVE A FRESH START HERE IN MULBERRY. It's the quietest town in Minnesota, and it's SUCH A MIRACLE you didn't skid off the roads, they're quite icy here.

They both hugged it out for a moment in the cold, Zooble felt like crying because she was so grateful to her uncle Caine. Caine noticed she's clinging to him as they hug and holds her close as well.

"It'll be okay, Zoobie, it'll be like your last visit, but LONGER! THAT'S RIGHT, YOU GET TO STAAAAAY HEEEEERE, FOR AS LONG AS YOU'D LIKE. WE'RE FAMILY AFTER ALL. Go on in, there's hot Cooa in the Kitchen, I'll get your bags! Oh, and feel free to just call me Caine, I think you're old enough to just call me by my first name now, haha!"

Zooble nods silently, her smiling expression more present as she's happy that her Uncle took her in.

Inside, she sips her hot cocoa, and Caine comes in shortly after, with most of her bags, of which he gets the rest in a second trip.

Then he joins Zooble for some hot cocoa once he's fully back inside with Zooble's luggage altogether by the door.

"So Zoobie, what do yoy think of Mulberry? It's so lovely here, no?

"Yeah, it's pretty great Caine, I'm gonna like it here."

"I'm sooo delighted to hear that! It's so nice here Zoobie, you'll love plenty of people your age here, and the college is small and cozy. Mulberry U was my alma mater. Aaah, seems like yesterday when I walked out with my Communications degree! The TV station has been a nice job for me, telling everyone about the weather is certainly a real job, but as Mark Twain once said, make your vocation your vacation, and all will be will, hahahaaa!"

Zooble smiles, happy to see her uncle in such good spirits.

They chat the rest of the night and Zooble gets a good night's rest. As she goes on, she adjusts to her new life Mulberry, and becomes friends with Pomni, Gangle, and Ragatha.

The end.

Knock knock! Guess who's online again! 🥂

For now, check out the sketches of the characters in the form of teenagers / children + bonus ( AIS AU ⛸️❄)

+bonus (I drew the art a long time ago, but decided to show it only now)

Unfortunately, I was away for a long time due to personal problems. The beginning of the year turned out to be difficult.

I was COMPLETELY deprived of the opportunity to draw on a graphics tablet.I also had to move in with my dad after a fight with my mom. Now I'm drawing on my phone in the Ibis Paint X app with my finger, which is unusual for me.

However, there is some good news! It's my birthday next month, and my dad promised to give me an iPad! (I've never used it before.)

Therefore, I will temporarily post less art on Tumblr.(sorry)

[biancadoes1]

The day people realize that celebrity’s public SM accounts are simply fan service is the day we might have some peace. I hit my head against the wall every. damn. time. that I have to hear some toxic nobody’s think piece about how petty Nic and Luke are being to each other. They’re literally not doing anything!!! SM interactions are really not important in real life relationships (I say this as a 24 y/o woman).

How much stuff happened between Nic and Luke over the past 2 years that none of us knew until the WT? For one, the incredibly thoughtful and special birthday gift that Luke gave Nic. Or, that Luke was the first one to wish her a happy birthday last year. Those are two things we didn’t learn until quite a while later. And that’s okay, because they don’t owe us anything, but especially not their personal relationship. That is sacred to them. We were honored to see a small glimpse of that, but their love and connection goes deeper.

So, keep your nasty, used, and worn down think pieces on how much Nic and Luke hate each other rn. Please, seek therapy and make some real friends that aren’t just online. Or, better yet, TOUCH GRASS AND LEAVE THEM AND US ALONE!!

👏👏👏

Anon served.

[lyvhie]

hai!!! could i request a idol! mark smut :(( where reader is missing him but hes too busy with work but then he surprises her over the new years!!!

happy new year to u!!! <3 sending u hugs and kisses

a nice surprise | lee mark

mark lee x fem!reader (18+ mdni) ꒰ summary ꒱ you were already expecting to spend another special occasion alone, but your boyfriend just wanted to surprise you. ꒰ a/n ꒱ little edit! OOPS IT WASNT AN ANON HELP MEEE!! IM SORRY, CUTIE I DIDNT SEE YOUR NAME thats embarrassing omg 🫣 happy new year to you too! i'm sorry it took me so long to write, i was really sick 😖 BUT I FINISHED!! i hope you like it and ALSO wishing you aaaall the best this year, mwah! 💖 ꒰ cw ꒱ smut, oral (f), unprotected sex, pet names.

When you started dating a famous person, you knew things wouldn’t be easy. Paparazzi, overzealous fans, and the constant need for caution every time you stepped outside, those challenges came with the territory. You’d prepared yourself for it, and over time, those things became just another part of your daily routine, barely registering as problems anymore.

What you hadn’t expected, though, was how difficult the distance would be.

Being away from Mark for days, weeks, sometimes even months, felt like torture. The only thing keeping you sane was the existence of technology—video calls, texts, and voice messages filled the gaps when he was free. But it wasn’t the same. There were nights when the loneliness hit harder than usual, when a screen or the sound of his voice through the phone just couldn’t replace the warmth of his presence. You didn’t just want him; you needed him there, right beside you.

But you knew that, no matter how much you longed for his presence, things couldn’t just change on a whim. Mark couldn’t simply drop everything he was doing to spend a day with you—even though he’d suggested it more times than you could count. The thought alone made your heart ache and swell at the same time, knowing how much he cared but also understanding the weight of his responsibilities.

Still, Mark always found a way to remind you that you were on his mind, no matter how far apart you were. Like the random voice notes he’d send in the middle of the night, whispering about his day because he knew you'd listen to them first thing in the morning. Or the surprise delivery of your favorite snacks and flowers with a note that simply read, "Thinking of you. Always."

It wasn’t the same as having him there, but it was enough to keep you going.

“So… you really won’t be here tonight?” The disappointment in your voice was clear as you lay on your bed, hugging the pillow tightly and pressing your cellphone against your ear. “You couldn’t make it for Christmas, and now this…”

He was supposed to come home today, and at least start the year with you after weeks without seeing each other. But something went wrong with their flight, and now they’d have to wait two more days to board another plane. Two days might not seem like much, but after being apart for so long, the thought of waiting two more days felt like an eternity.

“I know it’s frustrating, I really wanted to be there with you,” you could hear his sigh on the other end of the line. “I promise I’m doing everything I can to get home to you as soon as possible. These two days will fly by, I’ll make it up to you when I get there. Just a little longer, okay? I miss you so much.”

The warmth in his voice made the ache in your chest a little more bearable, but it still didn’t take away the longing you felt. “I miss you too, love, you have no idea,” you said, letting out an exasperated sigh. “I wanna see you so bad, Mark.”

“I know,” he replied softly. “I wanna see you too. Just hang in there for me, okay? I’ll be there before you know it.” Before he could say more, you heard faint voices in the background followed by his hum. “Baby, I… I hate to do this, but my manager’s calling me. I have to go,” he said reluctantly.

“It’s okay,” you chuckled softly, imagining the little pout that was surely on his face. “Go do what you need to do.”

“I’ll call you as soon as I can, okay? Promise. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

And just like that, the call ended, leaving the room enveloped in quiet once more, the only sound now your soft breathing. You let out a long sigh, staring at the ceiling. It was just you and the silence again.

But the quiet didn’t last long. Three firm knocks on your front door echoed through the room, loud enough to pull you from your thoughts. You glanced at the time on your phone—it wasn’t exactly the hour for unannounced visits, and you weren’t expecting anyone. Well, not anymore, anyway. Maybe it was your neighbor, they had an uncanny knack for finding reasons to complain about the tiniest sounds.

You let out a small groan and shouted, “I’m coming!” as another knock sounded, dragging yourself out of bed.

“Hi, how can I—” The words died on your lips the moment you saw who was standing at the door. Your eyes widened, and your jaw slackened as your hand remained frozen on the doorknob.

“Hey, beautiful,” Mark greeted you with that boyish smile you adored, a cute teddy bear in one hand and a box of chocolates in the other. The sight of him left you speechless, your heart racing as if it couldn’t quite believe what it was seeing.

Before you knew it, you had thrown yourself into his arms, the force of your embrace nearly causing the teddy bear and chocolates to slip from his grip. He caught you effortlessly, as if he had been waiting for this moment as much as you had. Your arms tightened around him, your face burying into his shoulder as his familiar scent washed over you, sweeping away the loneliness of the past weeks in an instant.

Mark managed to nudge the door shut behind him and guided you both further inside. Without breaking the hug, he set the teddy bear and chocolates down on a nearby surface, his hands quickly finding their way back to you. His arms wrapped around you firmly now, holding you close, as if he never wanted to let go.

You pulled back just enough to look at him, your hands cupping his face as if making sure he was real. “You’re really here?” you asked softly, your eyes scanning every inch of his familiar features.

“I’m really here,” he replied with a chuckle, leaning into your touch. He couldn’t help but find it adorable how you stared at him like he was some kind of alien. Covering your hand with his, he turned his head slightly to press a tender kiss to your palm.

“So… all that stuff about the airplane was a lie?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. His cheeky grin was all the answer you needed.

“I wanted to make a—” he started, but his explanation was cut off as your hands playfully squished his cheeks.

“Mark Lee!” you scolded, though the smile breaking across your face betrayed your mock anger.

Mark laughed softly as he tried to wiggle free from your hands, his grin never leaving his face. “Okay, okay, I deserved that,” he said, eyes sparkling with affection. “I thought it would be a good surprise, sorry.”

You let go of his cheeks, your hands sliding down to rest on his shoulders, then gently on his chest as you looked up at him. There was a moment of silence, the playful energy from before softening into something deeper, more intimate. You searched his eyes, your voice quieter, more sincere.

“And it was,” you whispered, your heart full as you leaned in slightly. “God, it was. I’m so glad you’re here.”

“I’m glad I’m finally here too, I missed you so much,” Mark said softly, his voice thick with emotion. It was his turn to cup your face gently between his hands, his gaze soft as he looked at you, almost as if he was memorizing the moment. Without another word, he leaned in, bringing his lips to yours in a warm, affectionate kiss that felt like home, his love for you pouring into every second.

The kiss lingered for a moment, slow and tender, as if both of you were savoring the reunion, letting the warmth of each other fill the space between you. When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting together.

“You’re really here,” you whispered again, as if you couldn’t quite believe it, the words tumbling out like a soft confession.

Mark chuckled, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’m here, baby. For as long as you’ll have me.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, a rush of relief and joy flooding through you. You leaned in again, kissing him once more, this time deeper, pulling him even closer, as if you couldn't get enough. Mark’s hand found its way to the back of your neck, his other hand sliding down to your waist, rubbing slow circles that made you melt into him.

“Mmh, I missed that too,” he murmured against your lips, his smile evident in his voice as his hands toyed with the waistband of your pants.

“Mark…” you tried to sound stern, your tone a mix of warning and amusement as you attempted to pull away. But he wasn’t having it, his lips quickly chasing yours, capturing them in another kiss.

“What?” he asked innocently, though the playful glint in his eyes betrayed him. His hands slid lower, cupping your ass with a firm squeeze that had your breath hitching, pulling you impossibly closer to him. “You act like you don’t like it,” he teased, his voice low and dripping with affection.

You rolled your eyes, though the warmth spreading through your chest made it hard to be truly annoyed. “I didn’t say that,” you muttered, trying to keep a straight face.

“Exactly,” he smirked, his grip on you tightening slightly. “So let me make up for all the time I’ve been away.”

Before you could say anything more, he silenced you with another kiss, gently guiding you backward toward the bedroom. You didn’t try to protest or stop him, simply letting the moment continue as your arms wrapped around his neck. As you passed through the bedroom door, Mark felt his mind drift into a state of calm. The entire space carried your scent, wrapping around him like a warm embrace. It was just another one of the countless things he missed—the feeling of being surrounded by everything that reminded him of you.

Mark gently laid you down on the bed, his lips staying connected to yours as he followed you. The comforting weight of his body against yours made everything else fade away. His kisses began to wander, trailing from your jaw to your neck, then down to your collarbone and the delicate valley between your breasts.

You couldn’t take your eyes off him, watching his every move as your heart pounded in your chest, loud enough that you were sure he could hear it. With slow, deliberate movements, he lifted your shirt, his lips continuing their journey downward, leaving a trail of warm, lingering kisses along your belly. The soft sensation sent a ripple of tingles through you, drawing a quiet chuckle from your lips.

Mark glanced up at the sound, a side smile gracing his lips before he returned to his path, stopping just at the waistband of your pants. His gaze lifted to meet yours again, the intensity in his eyes stealing your breath and leaving you speechless, your entire body attuned to his next move.

Mark’s hands lingered at your waistband, his fingers brushing lightly against your skin, igniting a trail of warmth that made your breath catch. His gaze never wavered from yours, searching your eyes as if silently asking for permission. When you nodded, the smallest movement, he leaned up to kiss you again. Soft, tender, and unhurried, as though he wanted to savor every second. His hands worked deftly, slipping your pants down inch by inch, his lips following their descent with featherlight kisses that sent shivers up your spine.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin as his lips traced a path along the inside of your thighs. Every kiss, every gentle press of his hands, carried a tenderness that left no doubt about how much he’d missed you, full of care and unspoken longing.

Your heart raced as you took him in, the contrast of his soft, adoring gaze and the undeniably seductive way he moved leaving you breathless. He looked so unfairly perfect—both sweet and completely enticing—positioned between your legs, his intentions written clearly in his eyes.

“Mark…” you whispered, your voice barely audible as your fingers found their way to his hair, tugging lightly. You weren’t even sure if it was meant to ground yourself or encourage him further, but the smirk that tugged at his lips told you he knew exactly the effect he was having on you.

And you didn’t need to say anything more. His mouth had already found its way to your center, the thin fabric of your underwear doing little to shield you from the heat of his tongue as it teased over the delicate material. A sharp gasp escaped your lips, your breath coming in a long, shaky sigh as your eyes dropped to meet his. The way he looked at you, so intent and unrelenting, only made the anticipation coil tighter in your core.

He didn’t make you wait long. His tongue moved purposefully, pressing against the sensitive bundle of nerves even through the fabric, a sensation so electrifying it had your fingers clutching the sheets beside you. The soft suction that followed had a breathy moan slipping from your lips, unbidden and raw.

“Mark…” you whispered his name again, your voice a mix of need and surrender, your hips subtly arching toward him, silently begging for more.

His only answer was a soft hum that sent a gentle vibration through you, causing a soft whimper to escape your lips. His teeth gently tugged at your panties, pulling them down slowly, all while his gaze remained locked on yours.

Needless to say, you were already dripping, and that sight made his heart swell with pride. No matter how many times he found himself in this position, the view of you laid out before him always felt as thrilling as the first time. His gaze lingered for a moment, taking in every detail before he leaned in, planting a soft kiss on your clit.

The gentle press of his lips against your sensitive spot sent a jolt of pleasure through your body, making you gasp softly. His tongue darted out, circling around the delicate bundle of nerves with a teasing precision that had your eyes fluttering shut and your head falling back against the pillow.

He watched your reaction, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, before sliding his tongue down, parting your slick folds and licking through your slit. His movements were slow, deliberate, savoring every taste as he explored you.

Another moan left your lips as he continued, the warmth of his mouth combined with the skillful flicks of his tongue driving you crazy. His hands gripped your thighs, holding you in place as he worked, his own excitement growing with every shudder and whimper he drew from you.

His tongue continued its journey, alternating between long, languid licks and quick, focused flicks over your clit, building you up slowly, savoring every moment of your pleasure.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, gently pulling as your hips moved instinctively against his mouth. The sensation of his tongue, combined with the heat pooling in your core, was overwhelming, and you could feel yourself getting closer with each stroke.

Mark glanced up, catching the blissed-out expression on your face, and it only spurred him on. He flattened his tongue, dragging it up slowly from your entrance to your clit, then wrapped his lips around the sensitive bud, sucking gently. The change in pressure had you gasping, your thighs trembling around his head.

“You taste so good," he murmured against your skin, the words sending a shiver down your spine. His hands now gripped your hips tighter, anchoring you as he continued to work his magic, bringing you closer and closer to the release you craved.

Your breaths came quicker, each exhale accompanied by a moan. "Mark... I'm so close," you whimpered, your voice strained with need.

He didn't let up, his tongue moving in perfect rhythm, drawing out every ounce of pleasure from you. One of his hands slipped down, his thumb finding your clit to rub in tandem with his tongue, sending you over the edge.

Your body tensed, a wave of ecstasy washing over you as you came undone beneath him. A cry of his name escaped your lips, your back arching as he continued to lap at you, helping you ride out the high.

As the tremors subsided, he pulled back slightly, pressing soft kisses along your inner thighs, his eyes filled with satisfaction and adoration. He crawled up to meet your gaze, brushing a stray hair from your face and leaning in to capture your lips in a slow, lingering kiss, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

Your hands roamed down his back, feeling the tension in his muscles, your fingers slipping under his shirt, tugging at the fabric. Mark's breath hitched slightly, the desire in his eyes deepening as he pulled back just enough to shed his shirt, revealing his bare chest. You ran your hands over his skin, savoring the warmth beneath your fingertips as he leaned down, capturing your lips again.

He shifted, pressing himself against you, and you could feel the hard outline of his arousal through his pants. Your hand moved between you, palming him gently, eliciting a soft groan from his lips, your touch becoming more intended as you began to unbutton his pants, sliding them down his hips.

He kicked them off, his body pressing back into yours as you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. Mark positioned himself, his forehead resting against yours as he slowly pushed into you, the both of you releasing a simultaneous sigh of relief.

“You feel so good," he whispered, his hands cradling your face as he kissed you deeply. Mark's movements remained gentle, each thrust slow and purposeful, as if he wanted to memorize every sensation, every reaction from you. The room was filled with soft sighs and the quiet rustle of sheets as you clung to him.

His pace quickened slightly, the friction building a delicious tension between you both. You arched into him, your hands threading through his hair as you whispered, "I'm close again.” The sensitivity from your previous climax heightened every sensation, making your body tremble beneath him.

Mark's forehead pressed against yours, his eyes locking with yours as he adjusted his angle slightly, hitting the perfect spot that had you gasping, your nails digging into his shoulders. "Let go for me, love" he coaxed, his voice soothing, full of love.

With his encouragement, you felt the wave of pleasure cresting again, your body tensing as you cried out his name. The intensity of your release pulled him closer to the edge, and with a few more thrusts, he followed. A groan escaped his lips as he pulled out, spilling himself onto your belly, the warmth of his release spreading between you as he shuddered, his breath ragged.

Mark collapsed gently beside you, his breathing ragged as he pulled you into his arms, holding you close. The warmth of his body against yours was comforting, and the soft rise and fall of his chest helped calm your racing heart.

For a while, you both stayed like that, in silence, just holding each other, the only sound in the room was the soft rhythm of your breaths, gradually returning to normal. The warmth of his body pressed against yours was comforting, and neither of you felt the need to break the tranquility of the moment.

Mark kissed the top of your head and was about to speak when a loud thud echoed from the wall of the bedroom. His brows furrowed in confusion as he looked at you, his expression a mix of curiosity and concern and you couldn't help but burst into laughter, the sound filling the room.

"I guess we made the neighbor mad again."

↝ taglist: @yizhrt, @sinisxtea, @peterm4rker.

[mirainwonderland]

Leon Kennedy One Shot

Content: fluff, established relationship, allusion to mature themes (bondage?)but fades to black so no real NSFW wanted to keep it pg

Pairing: Leon X reader

Synopsis: You get bored and tie a ribbon around his bicep

A/N: I wrote the first bit of this when I was half asleep lol idk I thought it turned out bad but I reread, edited, and finished it and now I’m happy with it so enjoyyy ^_^ I think the concept is cute and I wanted to write it outside of a smutty context (even though technically it ends up there but whatever) have fun x

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

“There!” You announce, sitting cross-legged on the couch while Leon works on his computer beside you. He’d been at it for hours, and you were admittedly a little bored. He kept saying “Almost done babe”, but that felt like hours ago now. So with nothing better to do, you decide to amuse yourself by getting some of your pink ribbon and tying the most perfect bow you could around his bicep while he typed away on some boring report. Leon had asked you what the hell you were doing, but you shrugged, and he just let you, most of his focus on work he needs to finish.

It had taken you way too many tries to get it this perfect, and you grin at your accomplishment as the tips of your fingers tickle the bunny ears of the satin bow. It’s something you’ve secretly always wanted to try. You loved his arms and seeing the delicate fabric of the ribbon tied around his muscles like some spiffy package that was all yours was tantalizing. It was satisfying to see his calloused muscles adorned with a signature of something that was so distinctly you, that you can’t help but feel a little spark of warmth and pride as a smile lights up your face.

He spares a glance over his shoulder at your little piece of art, a ghost of a smile not quite manifesting on his face in its entirety.

“Pretty.” He humors you, clicking his mousepad a couple of times in half-baked attention. You crinkle your nose, huffing a puff of air through it. Even if he’s mostly focused on work, he can’t help himself when it comes to giving you a little bit of a (lovingly) hard time. And he’d be lying if he told himself didn’t think your little pink ribbon was cute.

“Hey!” You protest as his bicep suddenly flexes, the ribbon popping at its tension point and fluttering onto the cushion of the couch.

“Stoppp…!” You draw out the word in a light-heartedly annoyed whine, picking the tatters of your little art piece off the couch.

You grab a new strand of ribbon, tying it around his bicep once again in three or four tries, biting your lip in concentration. Leon dulls an affectionate smirk as he watches you out of the corner of his eye, his attention shifting over more to your little antics. You lean back, blowing a strand of hair from your face.

He has to do it again.

“No don’t— no!” You scold, grabbing onto his arm when he begins to flex his bicep again. Your hands don’t fit all the way around of course, put you still push your palms towards each other into the muscle on either side, trying to force him to relax and not mess up your little masterpiece.

He chuckles, the sound vibrating in his chest and sending warm tingles down your back at the domesticity of it as he relaxes the muscle. It’s not often you see him this relaxed, and it feels really nice whenever you catch a glimpse of this side of him.

His computer is discarded, and in a flash he grabs your hands, pinning your wrists together as he reaches for your vulnerable sides. You erupt into an uncontrollable fit of laughter as he tickles you, his bicep flexing and relaxing under the ribbon still tied to his arm.

“Let’s see how you like it. C’mere.” He grabs a strand of ribbon himself, winding it around your wrists and tying them off so you’re stuck. You squeal as he throws your arms a loop around his neck, and nuzzles your nose and face, making you writhe and giggle beneath him ticklishly as his hands ruthlessly attack your sides.

Your elbows dig into his shoulders as you laugh, writhing wildly under him. Curse your ticklish spots and sensitive nerve endings, and screw him for knowing where they are.

“Stop! Sto-“ You’re cut off as his fingers flatten against your ribs and his lips abruptly press against yours in a breathless flare of a kiss.

Traces of breathless laughter spill from your mouth when he releases them, as your chest heaves up and down against his for air.

“I’m stuck!” Your wrists writhe against the bindings of silk, eliciting no reaction of sympathy from Leon like you intended. “Leon-“

“Nah, I like you like this.” Refusing to help you, he peck your lips again, pressing doting little kisses all over your cheeks and nose. You erupts into soft giggled again, making warmth flood through his chest and invigorate his tired muscles.

He pulls back again to look down at your rosy face.

“Untie me.”

His gaze flickers to the ceiling as if in thought momentarily before returning to you. His voice rumbles deep in his chest, vibrating into yours. “Mm… No.”

“Leon!” You whine, making him chuckle again and drop his lips to yours once more. He snatches you up in his arms so suddenly you squeal, fingers digging into the back of his shirt as he bounces you once in his arms for a better grip.

“I’ve got a pretty little package,” He says walking with you to your bedroom, nuzzling your face affectionately, making you show him that adorable smile he loves. “And I’m gonna open it.”

And open it he does.

All night long.