#a distraction from what i was actually working on

[smutoperator]

Leg Day

An Yujin, Jang Wonyoung x Male Reader

Tags: 69, A2M, anal, anal fingering, ass to pussy, ball sucking, cheating, crazy riding, creampie, doggy, facesitting, fucking and licking, gym, leg lifting, long legs, oral train, pussy eating, sloppy blowjobs, squats, squirting, threesome, thighjob, workout

Word count: 5581

You have just started your new job at the gym. Yet, your first task would be managing the training of some of its most VIP clients. As you entered the most private room of the installation, you found yourself alongside two tall girls with long legs.

"Hi," Yujin greeted you. You must be the new instructor," she said. Today is my friend and I's leg day. I hope you can get them very fit and toned," she continued. "Nice to meet you," Wonyoung was next. Let's start. Can you please bring some extra weight for me to push with my long legs?" she asked.

"Sure," you tell Wonyoung. Watching these two beautiful long-legged girls can be very distracting at times, but you keep your composure, it's the first day at your job and you need it. But as they exercise, they keep throwing some smiles and smirking at you.

"Let's cool down a bit," you say as you watch the girls push really hard and get really sweaty doing their leg pressing. "Cool down? I'm just warming up," Wonyoung answers you.

"Can you please bring my bottle to me?" Wonyoung asks you gently. It's very close to her you feel she could take it herself, but you decide not to upset her as she's a very VIP client of the gym.

"You're so handsome," Yujin tells you. "Thank you," you answer her as she blushes. Both girls continue doing their exercises. Wonyoung gets up from the leg presser and starts doing squats, Yujin laughing as she films her friend doing it.

"Girls, can you please stay focused?" you ask them as you suddenly ruin their fun, telling them what exercises they should actually do. "Come on, we pay a lot for this training, we should do whatever we want," Yujin tells you in a very bratty manner. "That's not how it works," you answer her.

Yujin and Wonyoung laugh. "No, baby, here we tell you how things work," Wonyoung says as both girls pull your pants down in one go, leaving the bottom of your body exposed. "Nice cock you got in there, would you mind if we suck it?" Yujin asks.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT, IS THIS SOME KIND OF PRANK?" you angrily scream at both girls, covering your intimate parts in a hurry? "We know this is your first day in this job," Wonyoung says. "So if you want to keep it, you should do what we tell you, including letting us use that big fat cock," Yujin continues.

"All right, but please, make sure my boss doesn't know about it," you tell them. "Well, we are your bosses now," Yujin answers as she locks the room's door and pumps up the music to the maximum. "Now, can you show the monster between your legs?" Wonyoung asks. "Sure," you answer her.

You uncover your hands from your cock, drawing awes from both Yujin and Wonyoung as she looked at your manhood. "Might be the best we've got in this room so far, and we've got some big ones before," Yujin says. Both girls quickly get on their knees and lick your shaft from the side, their sexy tongues running all over its length, them moving fast right from the get cock.

Wonyoung is the first of the two to take it on her throat, soon making loud noises as she sloppily chokes on your dick. "Such nice cock you have for us today," Yujin says, following her young groupmate and diving for your balls. Both girls then take turns switching their positions, each one taking some good time to enjoy your big cock.

Yujin helps you quickly get fully naked, while she pulls her tight shirt to the side and takes her pants off, showing you her perky tits up top and exposing her thicc thighs and toned ass at the bottom. "Look at this slut, already taking everything off," Wonyoung says as she follows her unnie's lead, but taking her top off instead, exposing her perky little tits and cute torso, leaving just her sneakers and shorts on as both girls keep sharing your cock.

"Lay down, let us handle that big fat cock," Yujin commands, pushing you in the direction of the floor as both girls surround you ready to suck more of that big fat pole. Yujin opens the works with a little spit on your shaft, Wonyoung already sticking her tongue out like a snake ready to bite her prey.

Yujin takes your cock in her mouth first, bobbing her head hard on it before she passes it to Wonyoung. The girls engage in a crazy competition to see who can suck your cock the fastest and the loudest, giving you very sloppy blowjobs. Wonyoung takes on your tip while Yujin runs her mouth all over your shaft. "Fuck yeah," is all you can say, holding yourself not to blow your load in their pretty faces.

"Let's spit all over this dick," Wonyoung commands as she lets Yujin now move her mouth fast all over it. "Oh yeah, put it deep in that throat," you tell Yujin, who quickly obliges, pushing your throbbing cock deeper and deeper into her mouth, Wonyoung watching and smiling as her friend gags all over your cock.

"That's right, just like that," Wonyoung says to Yujin as she finishes deepthroating your cock, so addicted she keeps your cock glued to her mouth even after it. "Keep going," Wonyoung tells her as she stretches Yujin's mouth. "Fit it all in," she says.

Wonyoung takes your cock next, going from the kill right from the start. "Take it all the way down," Yujin orders to her as Wonyoung gets sloppier and sloppier trying to deepthroat that long and thick meat. Like everything in her life, lucky Vicky easily succeeds, saliva running down her mouth as she then follows it taking on your balls and letting Yujin handle your shaft by herself.

"Take on those balls," you command to Wonyoung, who sucks them like crazy, before moving up and taking more turns on your shaft. "Such a naughty boy, cheating on your girlfriend on Valentine's Day," Wonyoung says, noticing the ring on your finger before diving back on your pole. "She's so fucking good sucking that cock," Yujin praises Wonyoung, who gets louder and louder sucking that shaft, making you glad they turned up the music and didn't let all that noise get out of the room.

"There you fucking go, such a hungry slut, leave some for me," Yujin says to Wonyoung as she tries to match her young friend's high intensity. You love those girls' attitudes, sensing the healthy competition building between them to see who's the best cocksucker, each one ramping up the intensity after the other girl finishes her turn.

"Choke on that cock, keep going," Wonyoung pushes Yujin to her limit as she spits all over your cock. "Oh that's so nice," you say as both girls take turns popping your cock in and out of their mouths and spit all over the tip. "So fucking yummy," Yujin says.

But Wonyoung just seems to be on a different rotation, deepthroating your cock again with ease. Lucky Vicky turns you into the luckiest guy in the world, as you're able to see her blossom into a full-fledged cockslut in front of your eyes, asking for more and more of that fat pole the more she takes it. "She is so good at it, isn't she?" Yujin asks as Wonyoung puts you on the edge, her deepthroat making your legs shake nonstop as you use all four forces not to pop in that beautiful sexy mouth of hers.

Yujin just moves to the side as she watches Wonyoung give you a mind-blowing blowjob. You thought your girlfriend was really good at sucking your cock, but now she's going to look tame compared to what Wonyoung does to it, submitting it fully to her control and not sparing a single inch from her fast-paced licking and sucking, showing she's a world-class talent in everything she does.

The next two minutes are by far the longest of your lives. Wonyoung just does everything she wants to your cock, spitting, sucking, throating, drooling all over it like crazy, turning your shaft into a throbbing mess full of her saliva.

Wonyoung finishes her turn with a crazy deepthroat as Yujin shoves her head against your cok. "Choke on that fucking cock," Yujin tells her, as Wonyoung decides to be unselfish, letting Yujin handle your cock as both of you get on your knees, sharing kisses as you taste her cock-filled mouth while Yujin bobs her head on your shaft on all fours. Suck that cock for us," Wonyoung tells her.

Wonyoung lines up behind Yujin, eating her friend's pussy while she chokes on your cock, forming a sexy oral train. Yujin moans as Wonyoung perfectly tongue her cunt, but it gets muffled as your big shaft stretches her mouth out.

"AHHHHH YEAH, YEAH. FUCK MY MOUTH AND EAT MY PUSSY, OH MY GOD," Yujin screams as she's pleased by both sides. You push your cock up her face as Wonyoung grabs her friend's hair. "That's right, fuck her mouth," she tells you, burying her face between Yujin's fat ass cheeks, shaking them left and right while her friend salivates all over your cock.

"Are you ready to see the gates of heaven?" Wonyoung asks you as she sits in one of the gym's equipment and pulls her shorts to the side, exposing her beautiful pink pussy. Yujin quickly kneels and starts eating it out. "You like what you see? Then get over here." Wonyoung commands as she pushes you in her direction.

"I know you want a taste of that pussy, everybody does," Wonyoung tells you, showcasing her self-confidence as you dive your head right into her pussy. "Is it better than your girlfriend's? Ahhhhhh" Wonyoung asks as she starts moaning.

Wonyoung can't hide how ecstatic she is, moving her hips and grinding on your face as you eat her pussy. "Does it taste good?" she asks you as you share kisses with Yujin, both their mouths now full of her pussy. "Looks like it tastes very good by the way you are kissing her," Wonyoung says as Yujin and you lick it together. "OH MY GOD," Wonyoung suddenly moans as you and Yujin start eating her pussy together. "So fucking sweet," Yujin says.

"Are you ready for that pussy to squeeze that big fat cock?" Wonyoung asks you as she strokes your cock, teasing it close to her entrance before she slowly drives it into her pussy. "Put that cock nice and slow, AHHHHH," she suddenly screams as your thick length gets inside her, closing her eyes as she slowly descends down it.

"Such a fucking big cock, OH MY GOD," Wonyoung tells you. But quickly, she shows why she's one of the best, bouncing on it with ease despite your massive length. "OH FUCK," she moans, squatting on your cock. "Fuck his big cock just like that," Yujin incentivizes her.

As soon as Yujin says those words, Wonyoung quickly flips a switch. You soon get introduced to her insane riding, her moving her hips in a very fast-paced manner and spinning on your cock as she moans loudly. "YEAH, YEAH, YEAH," she freely screams with her doll voice, knowing that no one will be able to hear it. "That's so fucking hot," Yujin says as Wonyoung picks up even more speed, riding you like an Amazon while Yujin spanks her cute ass.

"Use that fucking cock," Yujin commands to Wonyoung as she keeps performing powerful bounces on your cock, tilting her body forward to eat Yujin's pussy as her friend sits her fat ass in your face. "FUCK, YES, YES, YES, AHHHH," she loudly screams again, Yujin smiling as she enjoys her friend being a cockslut. "Bounce all over his cock, cum all over it," Yujin commands.

The room is quickly filled with tons of screaming and moaning. "I'm gonna rub this pussy all over your mouth, baby boy," Yujin says as she grinds on your face while Wonyoung keeps spinning hard on your cock, before following it with hard squats that make loud sounds as her butt hits your hips. "This is such good exercise, FUCK," she says, enjoying using your body as an absorber to her squatting.

"I'M GONNA CUM," Wonyoung announces as she squirts all over your cock, Yujin quickly comes in and takes it in her mouth as soon as Wonyoung pulls it out of her pussy. "Your fucking pussy tastes so good," Yujin says as she lets Wonyoung choke on your cock as well.

"Girls, come here," you tell Yujin and Wonyoung, who comes first and lies on top of the gym equipment, with Yujin then stacking on top of her. You spread Yujin's long legs and put your cock in her pussy, Wonyoung's pretty face all over your shaft and balls. "FUCK IT'S SUCH A BIG COCK, HOLY SHIT," Yujin says as she rolls her eyes.

"FUCK, THAT COCK STRETCHES ME OUT SO GOOD," Yujin says as you split her cunt in half, pounding her hard as your balls clap against her big ass and swing all over Wonyoung's face. "That's right, let him use that pussy," Wonyoung tells her.

"USE THAT FUCKING PUSSY, USE THAT TIGHT LITTLE FUCKHOLE, AHHHH, AHHHH" Yujin begs as Wonyoung tongues her clit and you grope her tits. Her tight pussy leads you to feed your cock to Wonyoung, letting her get it wetter for you to reach deeper in her cunt. "OHHHHH, AHHHHH, AHHHHH," Yujin screams as you give her big ass some nice spanks, Wonyoung now with her tongue fully out in her friend's cunt.

"Eat her pussy," you command to Yujin, who tilts her body down as she and Wonyoung 69 each other while you drill the older girl's meaty cunt. "FUCK," Yujin keeps screaming as you spank her ass nonstop, clinging to licking Wonyoung's pussy as you stretch her out. "OH, THAT FEELS SO GOOD IN MY PUSSY," Yujin moans as she fingers Wonyoung's wet pussy, raising up so Wonyoung can do the same.

"FUCK, YOU'RE SO DEEP, I CAN FEEL IT IN MY FUCKING STOMACH," Yujin tells you as Wounyoung reaches to lick her friend's belly as if she was licking your cock bulging under it. "KEEP GOING BABY, USE THAT FUCKING PUSSY, I LOVE THIS COCK SO MUCH," Yujin continues.

"Put it in my butt too," Yujin begs. "Ohhh, I'd love watching that big fat cock up my friend's ass," Wonyoung says. "AHHHHHHH," Yujin screams and rolls her eyes as you anally penetrate her. "OH SHIT, IT'S SO FUCKING GOOD IN MY BUTT," she tells you as your cock tries to dig deeper in her tight asshole, Wonyoung increasing the speed of her lickings as well.

"FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, AH, AH, AH, AH, YEAH, YEAH, YEAH" Yujin can't stop moaning as she gets anally drilled. "DON'T STOP BABY, YES, FUCK THAT ASS HARD," she begs, Wonyoung smiling under her, especially when you give her your cock to taste her best friend's dirty butthole. Yujin presses her tits against Wonyoung's tall body while she eats her friend's pussy, trying to cope with your long and fat cock stretching her tiny anus. "AHHHHH, IT'S SO FUCKING AMAZING, FUCK," she screams.

"Cum, cum, cum for me all over that cock," Wonyoung tells Yujin. "FUCK, FUCK, I'M CUMMING," Yujin says as her long legs shake and she bursts all over Wonyoung's face. "Fuck yeah, so tasty," Wonyoung says, using her mouth to suck all the juices from it. "Your turn Yujinie, take all that cock, take it all in your fucking throat," Wonyoung tells her as Yujin gets on her knees, her younger friend quickly grabbing her head and shoving it against your shaft.

"That's right, fucking take it," Wonyoung says. "He loves that so much," Yujin says as she gags on your cock. " What a lucky day. That's so fucking unreal, having both of you suck my cock like that," you say to the girls as they move to the side of your shaft and lick it together. "Get up," you tell Wonyoung, sharing kisses with her while Yujin stays on her knees sucking that cock. "Oh yeah, so good, I love watching it," you tell her.

"Now it's your turn to get up," you tell Yujin as you start sucking her perky tits, leaving Wonyoung alone to bob her head on your throbbing shaft. "Your thighs are so fucking sexy," you tell Yujin while you touch her ass and play with her boobs.

"Come here, let me do something," you instruct Yujin, sliding your big fat cock between her honey thighs. Wonyoung immediately dives her face at Yujin's bottom as your cock starts humping and rubbing against her friend's legs. Wonyoung quickly understands her assignment, not letting your tip breathe, sucking it as it pops out of Yujin's thicc lower body.

You pick up the speed, humping your cock hard against Yujin's thicc thighs. "Perfect, just like that," you tell her, hugging Yujin's body hard up top while Wonyoung hugs your cock hard with her mouth at the bottom.

"Suck that cock," you tell Wonyoung as you spread Yujin's cheeks, giving her friend a larger chunk of your shaft to take in her mouth. "Oh fuck, what a good cockslut," you say as you fuck Wonyoung's face and Yujin's thighs at the same time, pumping harder than ever as both girls moan sexily.

"Get on all fours on the floor," you tell both Yujin and Wonyoung as they grab a pair of gym mats for themselves. "FUCKKKKK," Wonyoung quickly gets shocked as you unseriously shove your cock up her ass. "Fuck, that shit is so tight," you tell her, struggling to fit your thick cock in her little butthole.

But you won't give up so easily, taking your time on Wonyoung's pussy while you stretch her little asshole out with your thumb. "Yes, baby, shove it in my ass," she tells you. Yujin bounces her butt in anticipation and thumbs her own asshole as you drill Wonyoung's pussy.

You switch to Yujin's pussy next, Wonyoung giving you a helping hand as she now fingers her friend's butthole. "That feels so good," Yujin says enjoying the massage your cock and Wonyoung's fingers provide her. You kiss Wonyoung and choke her neck as you switch to Yujin's asshole. "Spread it open," you tell Wonyoung.

"OH FUCK, THAT'S SO FUCKING AMAZING," Yujin screams as you pound her ass. "Just thrust like your life depends on it," Wonyoung says, smiling as she watches her friend get her asshole stretched out. "FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, LIKE THAT, LIKE THAT," Yujin begs, you switching from her ass to her pussy nonstop, letting Wonyoung taste your cock once you're done. "My friend tastes so dirty, that's the flavor of a nasty slut," Wonyoung says.

You turn your attention back to Wonyoung as you stretch her pussy out, making her sexily moan. "Good girl," you tell her, giving a spank to Wony's ass and then switching back to her butt. "AHHHHHH," she screams again, shocked by your size, but as soon as she adjusts, takes it like a champion. "GOD THAT'S SUCH A BIG FUCKING COCK," she tells you.

"Then let me push it deeper," you tell Wonyoung as her asshole winks begging for it. You finally manage to break the resistance, taking it all the way up her ass. "YES, FUCK, FUCK," Wonyoung screams. "I still remember when you weren't that into anal," Yujin says. "Now you taking 10-inch monsters up that ass, no wonder you've been doing so many glute workouts lately," she continues.

"OH FUCK, FUCK, FUCK," Wonyoung keeps moaning hard as you choke her and print the shape of your cock in her now stretched butthole. You switch back and forth between her and Yujin, drilling their asses as hard as you can. "OH YES, OH YES, FUCK THAT BUTT," Yujin moans. Wonyoung grabs your cock, adding the right amount of saliva for you to fuck her best friend. "PUSH IT HARDER IN MY ASS, FUCK YEAH," Yujin begs.

You switch back to Yujin's pussy a bit, but she's so overwhelmed she soon squirts. "FUCKKKKK," Yujin screams as her juices flow into the gym mat. You grab Wonyoung's princess head, shoving your cock unceremoniously in her mouth and stuffing her face hard. "Taste those fucking juices, bitch," you tell her, Wonyoung rolling her eyes as you turn her mouth into your cocksleeve.

"I love watching you fuck her ass," Wonyoung tells you. "How about I fuck that pussy a little more?" you ask her, putting Wonyoung back on all fours and pounding her cunt from behind, Yujin coming in to massage her friend's butthole. "OH FUCKKKK," Wonyoung moans, Yujin ready to taste her pussy at all moments and providing you the right amount of spit for you to drill it. "HMMMM, HMMMM, HMMM," Wonyoung moans, Yujin now with her filthy hands all over her clit as well.

Yujin grabs your cock and pushes in Wonyoung's ass direction again, spreading her best friend's cheeks. "Look at her, taking this workout like a champion," Yujin says as you stretch Wonyoung's butthole hard while Yujin takes care of her pussy. "AHHHH, FUCK, FUCK," Wonyoung screams.

"Let's do some squats, work those glutes," Wonyoung says as she drops you to the floor and starts spinning her ass on your cock. "Fucking wear this ass out," she begs, rotating all over your cock. Yujin sits on your face as Wonyoung starts bouncing her ass on your cock. "YEAHHHHH," Wonyoung screams, Wonyoung watching her best friend turning into an anal whore. "That's so hot, working that fucking cock," Yujin commands.

Wonyoung grinds her ass on your cock while Yujin suffocates you with her pussy. "I LOVE THAT GIANT COCK IN MY BUTT," the younger girl says, using you as her personal workout machine, moving her hips fast and doing straight squats on your cock while Yujin squirts on your face and you grope her tits. "OH YEAH, FUCK," Wonyoung moans as she bounces on your cock.

You couldn't feel much better now as you savor Yujin's pussy. Wonyoung is so excited she almost falls down riding your cock, switching into an anal reverse cowgirl position and filling the room with loud moans. "AHHHH, AHHHH, AHHHH, AHHHH," she keeps repeating. Yujin tries to match Wonyoung's ride, doing squats in your face with her pussy. Your legs tremble, Wonyoung's tight asshole working your cock out at a really fast pace as she enjoys her anal workout, holding into one of the supports in the room.

You keep yourself entertained with Yujin's tits and pussy as Wonyoung keeps using your cock like a piece of workout equipment, moving her ass up and down it faster than ever. "Let me squat on it too," Yujin asks as the girl switch positions, Yujin taking your cock in her pussy and spreading her legs while you eat Wonyoung's heavenly cunt, the two girls sharing sexy stares with each other, Wonyoung laughing as you finger her clit and tongue her pussy.

Yujin picks up the speed, moving on your cock sideways and spinning on it while you put Wonyoung on the verge of cumming, her legs shaking with the clit massage you give her. "FUCK," both girls scream together, Yujin making good work of your pole while you make good work of Wony's little clit. "DON'T STOP, YOUR TONGUE AND CLIT FEEL SO FUCKING GOOD, I'M GONNA CUM," Wonyoung says as she squirts all over your face.

Yujin bends over and starts sucking your cock, Wonyoung getting behind her and eating her best friend's ass as she bobs her head on your cock and tests her body stretching capabilities. You push Yujin's head against your shaft and pump your cock up her mouth, making it as hard as possible for her not to gag on it as she tries to resist the pressure you put in her mouth. "Yes, baby, gag on that cock," you tell her, Wonyoung coming right beside her to suck your balls.

But Yujin manages to resist, taking control and bouncing her face on your cock with ease. "Put it back in my pussy," she says, getting on all fours again on the gym mat.

"PLEASE, I WANT TO FEEL IT IN MY STOMACH, AHHHH" Yujin pleads as you stick your cock back in her cunt, enjoying the bulge it creates under her belly. Wonyoung adds some spit. "I fucking love it," Yujin says. "Show me how good you take it," Wonyoung says. "I want to take this cock deep in my pussy like a good fucking whore," Yujin says as she moans. "That's right," Wonyoung compliments her.

You and Wonyoung share kisses as you turn Yujin into a cocksleeve. "FUCK," the puppy girl screams as Wonyoung spanks her ass. "FUCK ME, FUCK ME, FUCK ME," Yujin keeps begging as her pussy gets more and more stretched out. "I WANT MORE, I WANT MORE," Yujin begs. "Such a good girl taking that big fat cock," Wonyoung tells her.

"It's so deep, isn't it, tell me how deep it is inside you?" Wonyoung asks Yujin. "ALL THE WAY IN MY FUCKING STOMACH," she answers. "Does that little pussy feel good gripping on that cock?" Wonyoung asks you. "Ahhhh, ahhhhh, oh my god," Yujin moans as Wonyoung spreads her ass, before moving in her direction to kiss her. "So good," Yujin says. "Such a good cocksleeve," Wonyoung tells her.

"YES POUND ME, BABY, POUND ME, DROP THAT FUCKING COCK IN ME" Yujin begs as she rests her head on Wonyoung's tits. "AHHHH, YEAH, YEAH, WRECK MY FUCKING PUSSY," she begs as she sucks Wony's boobs. "Look how much she likes that cock," Wonyoung says to you. "I'M GONNA CUM," Yujin says, rubbing Wonyoung's pussy and moving her hips hard against your cock. "You feel that pussy cumming? Creaming all over your fucking cock? That's right" Wonyoung says as Yujin squirts on your dick.

Yujin quickly shoves you back on the floor, then bends over and deepthroating your cock. Wonyoung lines behind her, grinding her pussy against her friend's fukholes while Yujin chokes on your dick. "OH YEAH RUB MY PUSSY," Yujin begs as she spits all over your cock before she starts squatting on it with her fat ass. Wonyoung stays behind her, gripping her mouth all over your balls as Yujin's big butt hits her pretty face at each squat.

"OH THAT COCK IS AMAZING DEEP IN MY ASS," Yujin screams as she bounces all over it. "OH FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK," she keeps moaning, you reaching her hands to grope her bouncy boobs, Wonyoung remains glued to your balls, Yujin humping her ass all over that cock, before doing some more acrobatic sucking and running towards one of the room's pieces of equipment and clinging herself onto it.

"Bounce that ass on that cock, come on, be a good girl," Wonyoung tells Yujin as she pushes her friend's body down your cock. "YEAH, YEAH," Yujin screams. Wonyoung "Look how well she knows how to work on that cock," Wonyoung says as she keeps pushing Yujin to squat harder on it, making loud noises as her fat cheeks clap against your hips. "Yes, perfect, grind on that cock, keep taking it" WOnyoung keeps incentivizing Yujin with a big smile on her face.

"Come fuck me here," Yujin commands. You quickly follow, lifting one of her long, thicc legs and putting your cock back in her pussy. Wonyoung slides under both your bodies, reaching to eat her friend's pussy. "Oh, that's so good, ahhhh, fuck," Yujin moans as your cock stretches her cunt and Wonyoung tongues it. Wonyoung then moves and grabs Yujin's tits, sucking them as you rail her cunt, Yujin trying to stay up in just one leg. "FUCK, YES, YES, YES, I WANT MORE, I WANT MORE" she screams.

"Put it back in my ass," Yujin commands and you quickly oblige, stretching her asshole out as Wonyoung keeps playing with her bouncy boobs and kissing her friend. "Fuck her harder, make those tits bounce, use her ass" Wonyoung instructs you as you give Yujin the perfect anal workout, stretching her legs up in the air. "YEAH, LIKE THAT, LIKE THAT, IT'S SO FUCKING DEEP IN ME" Yujin screams.

You put Yujin back on the ground, fucking her ass from behind as Wonyoung helps spank her friend's but. "FUCK, THAT'S SO FUCKING PERFECT, YESSS," Yujin screams as she starts running out of steam, you eventually pulling out of her ass. Wonyoung is there immediately to impale her face in your big rod, tasting her friend's dirty and sweaty asshole straight from it, jerking your cock off hard, and savoring it to perfection.

"It's my turn now, I want that cock to myself, give it to me," Wonyoung says as she takes Yujin's place, spreading her right leg wide as you get ready to put your cock in her ass. "That's right, spit all over that fucking cock," she tells Yujin as she wets your cock before it goes up Wony's butt. "OH FUCK, THAT'S BIG," she says, always surprised with your size no matter how many times it goes in her ass.

"I want you to rub that ass on my face while he fucks me," Wonyoung commands to Yujin, who promptly obliges, grinding her butt all over Wonyoung's pretty face as your hard thrusts push it against Yujin's ass. "FUCK, FUCK, FUCK," Wonyoung screams as she clings to Yujin's ass. "That's right, that's right, stretch that fucking ass," she begs, reaching to finger Yujin's clit and thumb her asshole.

But Wonyoung is no pushover, as she starts moving her hips to meet your cock thrusting up her ass. "SO FUCKING DEEP, I LOVE IT," she says. You slow down as Yujin moves into Wonyoung's pussy and licks it now. "OHHHHH, FUCK THAT FEELS GOOD" Wonyoung moans as her best friend intensely tongues her folds.

"GIVE ME ALL, GIVE ME ALL," Wonyoung begs as you pound her asshole into oblivion, Yujin staying glued to her pussy. "YEAH, YEAH, YEAH," she moans louder than ever, both of you teaming up on her for maximum pleasure, "YES, STRETCH ME OPEN, STRETCH ME OPEN, FUCKKKK, AHHHH, AHHHH, AHHHHH, AHHHHH," Wonyoung turns into a screaming mess, using all her strength to cope with your hard thrusts up her backdoor.

"Put it in my pussy and don't pull out until you fill that up, you understand?" Wonyoung asks you as you switch between her holes. Yujin fingers Wonyoung's little clit, making her squeeze your cock even harder as she prepares to make you cum at any instant.

"Fucking use me, use me, OH FUCK, AHHHH, JUST LIKE THAT, DON'T FUCKING STOP, MAKE MY PUSSY CUM" Wonyoung begs. "Drill that slutty pussy," Yujin orders as you have your sights fully fixated on filling Wonyoung at any second.

"Fuck her hard, fuck her hard," Yujin commands as you attack Wonyoung's pissy. "FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, TAKE THAT COCK DEEP INSIDE ME" Wonyoung screams louder than ever as you clap her cheeks hard. "That's so fucking hot," Yujin says, tapping her friend's ass.

"Fill me up, fill me up with your cum, I want you to cum for me" Wonyoung begs. Yujin tongues your shaft hard as you drill Wonyoung's tight cunt, not sparing a single inch of it. "I'M CUMMING, I'M CUMMING, FUCK," Wonyoung screams as her walls clench hard over your cock, her smiling sensing you're getting closer.

You grab Wonyoung's body and pound her harder than ever. "Please, baby, fill that pussy with your cum," she continues to beg, you giving her faster and faster thrusts, her legs fully spread over the equipment, shaking harder than ever. You accidentally put your cock in her ass after it pushes out of her pussy, before switching it back. "Cum inside me, cum inside me, please, please, please, YES, YES, YES" Wonyoung continues to beg.

"AHHHH, AHHHH, AHHHH," you start groaning as you pump your seeds deep inside Wonyoung's pink pussy. You just couldn't believe it, but you were filling Korea's it girl to the brim. As your cock pops out of it, Yujin is right there to lick her friend's dripping cunt, tasting your cum from it. "It tastes like cherry," Yujin says as the flavor of your cum and of Wonyoung's pussy mix with each other.

You look and admire Yujin eating Wonyoung's pussy out as both girls kiss each other and swap your cum. "Oh my God, this was the best day of my life," you tell them. "I don't think your girlfriend can do that," Wonyoung says as you three lie on the floor and talk to each other.

Yujin and Wonyoung smile as they do a few squats while naked, laughing and giggling a lot. "Are we doing it right, baby?" Yujin asks you. "Definitely," you answer them.

You three get your clothes back on as you go back to your regular work and Yujin and Wonyoung leave the VIP room. "We won't be at the gym again this week, lots of performances coming up, do you want to watch one of our music show performances this week?" Wonyoung asks.

"Sure," you answer her.

"Good, I can't wait for us to have sex backstage," Yujin says as both girls leave the room.

A bonus fic for ya. I could no longer resist writing an Annyeongz smut and their fit legs as of lately gave me the perfect excuse.

[bewaryofpity]

IT'S NOW OR NEVER - L. HUGHES

[3.9k] luke was raised a gentleman and by the third date you are worried why he hasn't kissed you yet or three times luke was too scared to kiss you and one time you took matters into your own hands.

warnings: none ! this is so corny; unedited

.

1.

When Luke asked you out on a date, you were expecting something more traditional for a first date — a movie, maybe a dinner in a cute restaurant, even just a cafe date. But this?

“A baking class?” You couldn’t help but mutter to yourself this morning, eyebrows furrowed as you reread Luke's text. It had taken him a lot of courage to ask for your number a few nights ago, his awkward stance endearing, and he seemed like a guy who would choose a more practical option. Maybe you took his shy personality for granted.

Now, standing in the intimate studio filled with the hum of conversation from other couples gathered around their cooking stations, you weren’t sure what to think. It made you laugh a little because everyone around you already seemed to be a couple, and you and Luke were not… yet.

“Thought it might be fun. I hope you’re ready to be amazed by my baking expertise.” He smirked, his voice playful as he was standing by one of the sleek stainless-steel countertops beside you, finishing tying his apron.

You glanced at him with a smile. He was already rolling up his sleeves and looking at the recipe card in front of him with determination. There was something sweet about how out of his element he looked and you had a feeling his “baking expertise” was going to be revealed as a lie very soon.

The instructor introduced the recipe for a lemon tart which was slightly more challenging than you expected for a beginner’s class. Soon, you took the lead, carefully mixing the dough for the crust while Luke squeezed fresh lemons, their tart aroma filling the air. When it came time to roll out the dough, Luke tried to help, but the dough stuck to the rolling pin and tore when he tried to lift it into the pan. 

“Let me show you,” you said, after noticing his frustration, your tone gentle but amused. You guided his hands, showing him how to roll evenly and use a bit of flour to keep things smooth. Luke nodded along your words as you explained your moves, but he was more focused on the way your fingers brushed his than on the technique. 

While the crust baked, you left it up to Luke to make the filling. He whisked eggs and sugar with ease, his biceps peeking through his sweater, while you worked on zesting lemons and occasionally stealing glances at his cute concentrated face, though his arms were really distracting.

The filling came together quite nicely for your first attempt. It was a sunny yellow mixture that smelled like summer, and when it was time to pour it into the crust, you handed Luke the bowl so you could spread the filling evenly. The tart was finally ready and you placed it gently into the oven, before you started cleaning up your station, working side by side with an easy rhythm.

It wasn’t long before you dished the tart to start decorating it. As you reached for the thin slices of lemon to arrange them on top, Luke gently ushered your hand away.

“Leave the decorating up to me.” He said with a grin. You raised an eyebrow but stepped back, curious to see what he’d come up with. He placed the lemon slices with a deliberate precision that made you smile, adding sprigs of mint and finishing it off with a dusting of powdered sugar. He did have some baking expertise after all, you thought.

By the end of the class, the instructor encouraged everyone to take a bite of their creations, and you and Luke found yourselves amazed by your work. The crust was buttery and crisp, the filling perfectly balanced between tart and sweet. Your eyes widened at the first bite, and Luke couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride.

“This is actually pretty good.” You admitted. Luke grinned, savoring his own bite and the way your amusement seemed to radiate off something so simple.

You bid your goodbyes to the instructor on your way out, taking the leftover tart with you, leaving half to Luke. 

“Thank you for tonight. I had a really good time.”

“Me too,” he said with a smile. “Where did you park?”

“Oh, I took a cab here.”

“I’ll drive you home then, if that’s okay with you.” 

You tried to wave him off, not wanting to bother him since it was getting late already and you knew he had practice the next morning. But he insisted, and you didn’t have it in your heart to say no one more time, not when he gave you those puppy eyes.

The drive back to your apartment was quiet, the radio playing softly in the background. When he halted the car at the stoplight, Luke stole a glance at you as you gazed out the window, your profile illuminated by the streetlights. You looked peaceful, yet he wished he knew what was going on in your head, because turmoil had started to rise in his. Doubts started to cloud his thoughts, what ifs and maybes worried him, and he truly couldn’t mess this up because he already knew you were the woman of his dreams.

When you pulled up in front of your building, Luke turned off the engine and hesitated. He wanted to say something meaningful, something that would let you know how much he’d enjoyed the evening, but the words felt clumsy even in his head. You unbuckled your seatbelt and turned to him, your expression expectant but soft.

“Thank you.” You said softly.

“Don’t worry about it.” 

He wanted to reach for your hand, to bridge the small space between you, but his fingers stayed gripping the steering wheel. You lingered for a moment, your gaze dipping to his mouth and then back up to his eyes. He felt the air shift, a subtle invitation, but his nerves got the better of him.

“Goodnight,” he said instead, his voice steady but quieter than before. You blinked, a flicker of something unreadable crossing your face, and then you smiled, small but sincere.

“Goodnight, Luke.” You said as you stepped out of the car. He waited until you’d reached your door and waved at you before driving away, his chest tight with both satisfaction and regret.

Inside your apartment, you set down the box of leftover tart and leaned against the door. The evening had been lovely, better than you’d expected, really. Luke had been sweet and playful, your laughter easy and unforced, which was a rare occurrence after many past failed dates with other men. But as you replayed the moment in the car, you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of disappointment. You’d wanted him to kiss you, you felt the possibility hovering between you, but nothing happened and maybe you read this all wrong.

Still, you reminded yourself that first dates were just testing the waters, the first step towards something more and if your intuition about Luke was right, then there was nothing to worry about. After all, the best things were worth waiting for. 

2.

A message asking you for a second date came much sooner than you expected. You were looking forward to seeing Luke again, but hockey kept him busy and you were stuck with texting, which was fine, except for the fact that you missed him a lot. 

After the baking class, you had spent days replaying moments in your head — the way he smiled at you, the way he hesitated when he dropped you off. Something about him intrigued you, and you couldn’t wait to peel back another layer of him.

And that was how you found yourself walking to Central Park on a Tuesday afternoon, the air crisp and golden, autumn leaves falling delicately from the trees. Luke stood by the entrance, holding a picnic basket in one hand and a rolled-up blanket in the other. He waved as you approached, his face lighting up in a way that made your heart skip. Oh, this can’t be real, you thought. You loved parks, picnics even more so and how Luke figured that out, you didn’t know. This was just your second date and he had already done more than any guy you ever dated. 

“Hi.” You said shyly.

“Hi! Let’s go before they steal our spot.” He grinned, grabbing at your hand, not really leaving time for conversation. 

You walked together through the path leading towards the open patch of grass, the sounds of the city muffled by the rustle of leaves and the laughter of children playing nearby. 

“This okay?” He asked, spreading out the blanket. He busied himself trying to lay everything nice and neat to calm his nerves, but you could see the flicker of nervousness in his movements.

“It’s perfect.” And you meant it. The secluded spot he brough you to was beneath a sprawling oak tree and it felt like a little world carved out just for the two of you, despite the other couples around you.

Luke unpacked the basket with care and you were stunned by how thoughtful he had been. The sandwiches wrapped in wax paper, the container of pasta salad, fresh fruit, and the small box of cookies, were all things he prepared himself. You could tell, they weren’t perfect, but the fact that he took the time out of his already tight schedule to do something nice for you made your heart flutter.

“You’re really raising the bar here,” you said, taking a seat, legs criss-crossed. “Future dates are going to have a hard time living up to this.”

“Well,” he said, sitting down across from you, “I figured I should go big early on. Keep you interested.”

You giggled, and the sound seemed to relax him. The two of you settled into an easy conversation, eating and talking about everything and nothing. Luke told you about hockey, or at least tried. You weren’t familiar with the sport and what he was explaining didn’t make much sense to you, but he looked too cute to interrupt his nerd moment. You learned he played with his brother on the same team, something he wasn’t expecting on his draft day. You on the other hand, couldn’t say much about your boring 9 to 5 job, but when you mention your love for books, the conversation went lively again after he admitted Harry Potter was the last book he ever read.

“You’re lying!”

“Am not! I just can’t find anything interesting to read.”

Luke leaned back on his elbows, his gaze drifting to the trees overhead. The sun was starting to lower, the afternoon melting into evening, and the golden light deepened into the rich hues of a sunset.

After a while, Luke suggested a walk to stretch your legs, and you strolled along the park’s quieter paths, your shoulders brushing occasionally. When the sun dipped low, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink, you both stopped by a small hill to admire its beauty. The city’s skyline stood silhouetted against the glowing horizon, and the moment felt almost too perfect to break with words. He sat beside you, close enough that you could feel his warmth, but he didn’t reach for your hand or lean closer, and his hesitation was endearing but also maddening. 

As the sky darkened, you realized it was time to head back. The walk to your apartment was quiet, but not uncomfortably so, though the silence felt loaded, as if you were both aware of the unspoken undercurrent between you. When you reached your building, Luke paused, his hands in his jacket pockets.

“I had a really great time today.” He said, his voice steady but soft.

“Me too.” You replied, wishing you could find the words to tell him how much. 

The moment stretched and he didn’t move. No leaning in, no reaching out, just the same gentle smile that had greeted you at the park, the same smile he gave you in the car last time. Your eyes never left his, hoping he would see the glimmer of hope on your face.

You hesitated, heart thudding, because if he wasn’t going to take the step, maybe you had to. So, gathering your courage, you leaned up and kissed him on the cheek, letting your lips linger just a second longer than was strictly casual.

“Good luck for tomorrow’s game, Luke.” You whispered, stepping back before you could second-guess yourself. He was surprised, a blush creeping on his ears and mouth hanging slightly open. It made your stomach fill with butterflies, maybe this would finally make him understand your intentions.

“T-Thanks, goodnight.” He finally said, his voice a little lower now. He watched you go, and when you turned to close the door behind you, he was still standing there as if he was rooted to the spot.

Inside, you leaned against the door, lips tight in a smile and your cheeks warm. The kiss hadn’t been bold or dramatic, but it was enough to get your point across, or at least you hoped it was. But for now, you were content to let the memory of the day feed the warmth in your chest.

And maybe, just maybe, the next time he’d finally close the distance.

3.

It wasn’t really a date, or at least that wasn’t the intention, but Luke texted you hours after his game finished with the classic “you up?” text and you ended up in the cold Prudential Center at midnight.

He couldn’t sleep after winning the game, the adrenaline pumping in his body despite his head being tired. He felt a bit ashamed to send such a cringey text, but his fingers moved before he could actually put some thoughts behind his words, and luckily you responded like it was no big deal.

The familiar scent of ice and cold air greeted you as you walked through the quiet halls, no crowds, no buzz of pre-game energy. It was dead silent. It was completely empty, the polished ice gleaming under the bright overhead lights.

“It’s just us?” Your voice echoed slightly.

“Just us.” Luke added, his hands tucked casually into his jacket pockets. “Figured it’d be more fun this way. No pressure, no audience.”

You stared at him, momentarily stunned. The gesture was unexpectedly thoughtful, and it made your chest tighten in a way you weren’t quite prepared for. You mentioned your desire to learn how to skate as soon as he told you he played hockey, but you were too nervous to hit the outdoor rink, not trusting yourself with loads of careless people around you equally as awkward.

“You know I don’t skate.”

“Yeah,” he said, flashing a boyish grin. “I’ll teach you, that’s why we’re here.”

He handed you a pair of skates he borrowed from one of the guys’ girlfriend, and helped you lace them up. His fingers brushed yours as he tightened the laces, sending a shiver up your spine that had nothing to do with the cold.

When you stepped onto the ice, you wobbled immediately, gripping the edge of the rink for dear life. Luke was already gliding effortlessly, his movements smooth and confident. He skated over to you, holding out his hands.

“Trust me.”

Hesitantly, you let go of the barrier and placed your hands in his. His grip was steady, grounding, and he guided you onto the ice with patience, your hands probably squeezing him uncomfortably tight.

“Just take it slow,” he said, moving backward as you shuffled forward. “One foot at a time. You’ve got this.”

And you tried your best though you weren’t doing much work, instead being slowly dragged by Luke’s hands. You couldn’t help but laugh at yourself, your movements awkward and unsteady, but he didn’t seem to mind. He kept his eyes on you, his expression encouraging and soft.

He guided you in a slow circle around the rink, his hands never leaving yours. The cool air nipped at your cheeks, but the warmth of his touch and the sound of his voice kept you focused.

“See? You’re a natural.” He said, his grin teasing.

“You’re doing all the work, Luke.”

“Pff, what? No, I’m not.”

You laughed at his silly remark, your head dropping on his shoulder and resting there. You turned your head to respond, and his gaze caught yours, your breath catching in your throat. His face was just inches from yours, his eyes filled with warmth and intent. The world seemed to narrow, the rink fading away until it was just the two of you, the quiet scrape of your skates the only sound.

Your heart thudded as you slowed to a stop, your hand still in his. His gaze dropped briefly to your lips, and you felt a flicker of hope.

“Hello? Is anyone still here?”

But before you could say or do anything, a voice called out from the edge of the rink. And just like that, the spell shattered, and you stepped back instinctively, the perfect moment slipping away from your fingers. Luke turned his head toward the voice, his jaw tightening slightly.

“Though everyone went home.” He mumbled, his tone even but quieter than before.

Swallowing the lump of disappointment in his throat, he helped you off the ice, steadying you as you stepped onto solid ground. He helped you unlace your skates, his movements were slow as if to buy more time to spend with you.

On the way out, Luke apologized to the staff for the trouble, forgoing a decent excuse as to why he was here. It was obvious anyway.

The drive back to your place was quieter than you’d expected. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, but it felt heavy. And when he pulled up in front of your apartment, your fingers hesitated before unbuckling your seatbelt. You didn’t want to leave the car without doing something, anything, to push the boundary that seemed to hold him back. But you felt the familiar mix of hope and frustration swirling in your chest, so you let it go.

Once you stepped foot in your apartment, you leaned against the door, your heart still racing. Luke was sweet, thoughtful, and attentive in so many ways, but the question of why he still held back, why he hasn’t kissed you yet lingered in your mind.

You glanced out the window, watching as his car idled for a moment before driving off. The night had been special, probably the best out of the two other dates you had, because it was spontaneous, because he thought of you when he couldn’t fall asleep, because he remembered something you told him in passing. And it was the kind of date that would have been perfect if only he’d closed the distance between you.

You wondered if this was worth it all, if you should instead give up and tell him things aren’t working.

+1

You needed answers. After that night at the rink, you gave yourself a pep talk and mustered all the courage you could find in yourself to finally make a move. So you invited him over, telling him to drive straight to your apartment after his week-long roadie.

He made himself comfortable, changing from his suit into some sweats he had in his duffel bag, and was now sitting beside you on the couch, trying to explain the hockey game in front of you. In all honesty, you couldn’t understand a single thing. You tried watching sometimes, but the rules never stuck.  

“Wait, why has the game stopped?”

“It’s icing.” Oh, of course. “Did you already forget what that is?”

“Yes.”

He threw his head back, a giggle escaping his lips, and you couldn’t help but join him. His eyes crinkled at the corners, the warm light of the room catching the green flecks in his irises, making your heart flutter in a way you couldn’t ignore. You kept your gaze on him, watching as he stretched one arm across the back of the couch. He turned to look at you, catching you staring before you could pretend otherwise.

“You okay?”

You hesitated for a beat, your fingers fidgeting with the edge of your hoodie. Here goes nothing.

“Why haven’t you kissed me yet?”

The words tumbled out before you could overthink them, your voice softer than you’d intended. His eyes widened slightly, the smirk fading from his lips as he blinked at you. For a moment, the only sound was the low commentary from the game on TV, but you barely noticed. All your attention was locked on him, on the way his face shifted from surprise to something more unreadable.

“I mean,” you continued quickly, feeling a rush of nerves. “I just... I guess I’m wondering if you’re waiting for a specific moment or if I’m reading this wrong —”

“You’re not reading it wrong.” He interrupted, his voice shaking just slightly. He shifted in his seat, his arm dropping from the back of the couch to rest on his knee. 

“I like you too. I just —” He paused, his gaze flicking to the TV for a second before meeting yours again. “I just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. My mom always told me not to kiss a girl on the first date, but then I felt like it was never the right moment. I wanted it to be special.”

His words made your chest tighten in the best way, a soft warmth blooming under your skin. You hadn’t expected that answer, but it was so him. Thoughtful. A little cautious. Mama’s boy.

You turned towards him, your knees lightly pressing into his thigh. You reached out to place a hand on his own, his skin was warm under your touch, and you could feel the slight tension in his muscles. You looked at him for a long moment, your gaze searching his face when he kept looking at the ground. Then, slowly, a small smile curved your lips. Your hand moved to cover his, your thumb brushing over his knuckles.

“Well then, can I kiss you?”

His head shot up, breath caught in his throat for a moment processing if he heard you right. From the day he met you, he thought you were the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. You were confident but not cocky, quiet but not necessarily shy, attentive and smart. And he was obsessed, to the point he would kiss the ground you walked on.

You smiled at him, your heart feeling like it might burst from how full it was. That was all the encouragement Luke needed. He leaned in slowly, your mouth immediately meeting his halfway, your eyes fluttering closed as his lips finally pressed on yours. His lips were soft, softer than you imagined and you couldn’t get enough. 

Luke kissed you until he couldn’t anymore, and when he pulled away, his forehead resting against yours, you were both catching your breath.

“I’m sorry I made you wait.”

“It was worth it.”

He chuckled softly, pulling back just enough to look at you. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You squeezed his hand, still tangled with yours. “Can I kiss you again?”

“Please, stop asking and just do it.”

And so you cupped his jaw to kiss him again, not as long this time but just as breathtaking.

[emacrow]

Welcome to the Starlight Toy Galore! How can I help you?

Apparently, 1 toy wasn't enough to in the analysis machine. Dick and Damian were compromised by the toys and refused to part with them.

Babs decided to go this time, but this wasn't the first time she came into the place for investigating, actually..

This was the 36th time she visited, not because a ridiculous tall, very obvious dork of a owner kindly remade his front more wheelchair accessible to enter and couldn't take a goddamned compliment to save his life.

This was her case dammit, and Batman wasn't going to ruin all her processes steps of plans she had already set back, steps now by visiting.

It seem this week was appreciated space theme background that was completely accurate with various sizes planets above attic seemingly look to be floating until one tiny pluto float downward only for a little 7 year old girl with pigtails to wind it up with a blue winding key and watch it float back up with the others.

Danny always went all out in the starlight Toy galore before what caught her eyes was a little boy that had a butterfly hairpin with a broken dolly, a bag of doll pieces that was the missing cracked head and missing arm piece walking up to a station where the Owner Danny Nightingale was await.

"Can you fix mah ma's Sally? Felix got mad at her for not giving him lunchie when he went out with the guys.. and.. and I got all the pieces..! I trade you mah hairpin for you to fix her!" the little boy said softly with quivering confident, raising the hairpin that he was wearing up with his hand.

The Danny looked down on the little boy and bent over slowly, his form still gigantic even crouched down as he nodded, whispering softly to the boy as he ruffled his little hair, carefully picking the broken dolly that seem way too small in those long thin hands.

Carefully placing dolly and the broken pieces out of the bag carefully, The Danny went to the cabinet above the station and pulled out a jar. She could see his body shake as though he knew she was watching. Now, if Babs could almost see what that jar said, she coul-

The hard tug onto her shirt cause her to turn to see a 6 year old little girl in black braids with rose designed beads, bright blue eyes, and a soft grin with a front gap toothy. She had a tagged name, and I'm Ellen Nightingale.

Ellen mischievous little girl who like to play pranks at the beginning but became sweet on her 3 months ago.

She was holding out a strawberry taffy out in her small hand, colorful sensory rings on three fingers and a ducky doodle in yellow and green marker on the back of her hand.

"Oh.. thank you." Babs said softly, holding out her hand to receive the taffy. Ellen smiles with wider, and her eyes gleamed brighter at Babs as she giggles, rushing off to where Babs was previously watching the Dann-..

Ack. She got distracted!

The little boy was walking away, smiling brightly with the fixed dolly now wearing his butterfly hairpin as Danny waved at him.

Ellen tugs onto his apron and points at Babs, whispering something lightly to him as he picks up something from his stationary. Babs felt nervous for some reason, considering he was a ridiculous tall man. Hell, he can give the killer croc a run for his money in size if he were broader instead of slim figured.

And here they come, alright. Babs smiles softly as they both come over. Before Babs knew it, a bouquet of lilacs and purple roses was nearly shoved in her face.

A heavily bright red-faced danny with his hands shakenly holding the bouquet as he tonguedtied on his own words.

"You did the order wrong, Papa!! It was ask, then give the flowers!! All that hard work pwactices over this last night, gone, You big oversized Dumdum!!" Ellen shrieked, pounding her tiny fists on his legs.

Danny wilted like a deflated tube man as if Ellen's tiny blows could hurt him, but Babs couldn't speak as she was laughing too hard into the bouquet she held over her face to hide how red her face was.

Part 1 here <-

[bratbarzal]

maggie i’m going a bit off-script here, but for your valentine’s blurbs can i request ³⁾ “has it occurred to you that we’ve spent more valentine’s days with each other than with people we’ve actually been dating?” with quinn — but plot twist, he thought you were passed the just friends phase. just a little awkward & flustered quinn vday moment 💌

✩‧₊˚ bratbarzal's valentines event!˚₊‧✩

3. “has it occurred to you that we’ve spent more valentine’s days with each other than with people we’ve actually been dating?” we love awkward and flustered quinn in this house!!!

"I can't do this anymore," Quinn grumbles out of nowhere as the two of you are on his couch, drawing your attention from the dimmed screen of your phone to watch him pinch at the bridge of his nose and kick the throw that is draped over both of your lower bodies.

"Can't do what?" You frown, tilting your head to watch the theatrics, the blanket falling from your own lap into a tangled mess on the floor.

"Sit here and do nothing. I'm sick of doing nothing. You're driving me crazy, is this like, some sort of power thing? Are you seriously not even gonna acknowledge what's going on here?"

"What's-," You literally have no idea what the hell has gotten into him. "Going on? Quinn, what are you even talking about? When did you get all antsy and weird?"

"Uh, I don't know," he retorts, narrowing his eyes in your general direction, not quite able to meet yours. "Maybe when you started giggling at your phone and acting like this is any normal day? I get trying to convince yourself that this is no different to all the other times, it's what I kept telling myself to calm down earlier, considering we've been technically doing this," he gestures around the two of you, "For the past few years now, but I thought this time was different. I want it to be different."

"What do you mean by that?" You frown, pushing your phone under the pillow you're leaning on, shuffling a little where your legs are tucked beneath you on the couch and watching as he stands, arms thrown out in irritation as he turns back to you, swiping quickly where the blanket is bunched up and an inevitable trip hazard and throwing it over the back of the couch.

"Alright, has it ever occurred to you that the two of us have spent more Valentine's Days with each other than with the people we've actually been dating?"

You stare blankly at him for a second, mouth agape as you register what he's actually talking about, before you clear your throat with a hand to your mouth as Quinn stares back, waiting for a response, eyes narrowed as his patience wears thin. "It's Valentines Day? Today?"

He's right - for as long as you've lived in the same building as Quinn over the past few years, the two of you have spent the day together, making a tradition of it, even when you'd had boyfriends and he'd had girlfriends, somehow always finding yourselves in distant relationships with people who travelled or just plain didn't care.

Quinn's door was always open to you - even on days saved specifically for romance, even if the two of you had never even considered crossing that line.

You know you've been a little distracted with work lately, but surely you'd have heard about it being Valentines Day sooner than now. You reach back for your phone just to check, and sure as anything on your homescreen is the date - Friday, February 14th.

Crap.

You've literally spent the past twenty minutes texting your group chat, following along on the boozy girls night you had turned down in order to spend another night in with Quinn. A night you hadn't given a second thought to, as the two of you have been hanging out more and more, lately - him slotting you in pretty much any and every time he's free.

And now it makes sense - they're doing Galentines.

Double crap.

"Oh my God," he runs a hand through his hair in exasperation, that one thick strand you always thought was a cool stylistic choice bouncing straight back into place across his forehead - because of course it just naturally does that. "I can't tell if you're just oblivious or I'm a complete idiot."

"Maybe it's a secret third option?" You offer, standing from the couch and taking a cautious step towards his now pacing figure.

"Don't be cute," he glares back at you, "I'm really not in the mood right now for you to be cracking jokes, I'm embarrassed enough-,"

"Embarrassed?" You frown, taking another step, "Why would you be embarrassed?"

"Because I thought this was a date," he jabs a finger into his chest before pointing it back in your direction, "And you thought it was any other Friday night."

"Oh."

"Yeah," he huffs.

"That is embarrassing."

"Jesus Christ," he mutters, spinning on his feet and starting to make his way over to the kitchen before you panic and grab at his wrist, tugging him back with a little more effort than you're used to - because Quinn Hughes is nothing if not stubborn when he wants to be.

"Wait," you pout, trying to meet his avoidant gaze as he looks at anything but you, jaw set and body angled away. "Why did you think it was a date?"

"What is this, a humiliation ritual?" he scoffs, "I thought it was obvious. I asked you over. For dinner. I cooked! When you walked in here I was wearing an apron, for crying out loud! There's flowers on the table," he hooks a thumb over to where the two of you had eaten - sat across from one another at his small dining table, for once, instead of on the couch or the breakfast bar, places set before you even got there. A small vase with gerbera daisies and a little ribbon around the rim. "And I'm wearing a shirt. In my own home." You cast your eyes down, to the way the buttons are popped at the top, a small sliver of his chest peaking through - and it feels like the first time you're really taking him in.

Not even tonight, but maybe ever.

It's not like you've never thought Quinn was hot - he's gorgeous, Mike Wazowski in a blindfold could see that - but there's always been a barrier there, like a cartoonish, pixelated sort of blur that hides him from full view, unlocked only by some costly subscription with life changing terms and conditions that you could never be bothered reading.

And you might have struck him off, until now - until he stood before you with a pouty bottom lip and a mortified flush to his cheeks - and he all of a sudden doesn't look like someone who could never be more than a friend.

Especially when you consider that maybe he's been thinking about crossing that line.

In a new light, he looks like someone who goes the extra mile, who gets you flowers and cooks you your favourite pasta dish, buys your favourite wine, puts an effort into his appearance to distinguish between all the times you've seen each other in sweatpants and actively listens to your dumb stories about office politics and teams meeting etiquette - like it ties in at all to any part of his world.

He sighs, heavy and resigned, and you see his chest deflate where your eyes are locked on it, catching the subtle shake of his head in your peripheral as you take too long to respond.

"Look, I kinda feel like an idiot, so maybe it's better if we just-,"

It's the tug of his wrist that spurs you into action, and you let it drop - too eager to grab him elsewhere, like by the front of his soft, pretty shirt - pulling him in by the collar and pressing your lips firmly to his.

You worry for all of three seconds until his fingertips dig pointedly into your hips, guiding you forward until you're a little closer, and they can slide further back. Your own hands move higher, touching skin now - curling around the back of his neck to bury themselves in his hair, pushing at his head to better meet where you're angled up to kiss him.

He purrs almost at the feeling, a hum of satisfaction that's spoken straight into your lips, and it almost distracts you from the way his touch wanders, one hand sliding up the back of your shirt and the other hand sliding lower.

You hum back at the firm press of his palm into the small of your back - his hand warm and his touch soothing, your shoulders loosening until all the tension seeps from your body, and you start to feel like you're floating.

Or falling.

You part slowly - of equal volition, you think - your eyes opening to see Quinn's screwed shut, and you take the second he keeps them that way to feel a flush of pride at the soft pink tint that has taken to his lips.

"I'm sorry," you tell him, barely above a whisper, when he finally opens his eyes and flashes you that darkened gaze, where it darts between your own eyes and your lips in a tantalising triangle.

He clears his own throat then, blinking hard and purposefully, and licking at his swollen lips.

"For what?" he asks, breathless, his hands still in the exact same places, thumb swiping at the dip in your spine and the fingers of his other hand temptingly close to crossing the curve of your ass - confident more in his touch than he seems to be with anything else.

"For wearing sweatpants to our date," you huff, embarrassed yourself, because even if you hadn't known the implications of him asking you over for dinner, why couldn't you have at least put on something nice. "Now I get why you looked at me so funny when you opened the door, earlier."

He laughs then, slow and easy, his smile crooked and his eyes a melting kind of warm.

"I'll forgive you if I can change into mine."

"Deal," you nod, lips twisting as you take him in - those barriers, that pixelated blur, animating into something crystal clear and definite, something you can't believe you haven't given yourself the pleasure of seeing until now. "I'm sorry for being oblivious, too."

"It's alright," he shrugs, "I'm sure there's some way you can make it up to me."

And you're still standing with your arms resting on his shoulders and your hands behind his neck - the prime position to lean up and kiss him again.

[luminiamore]

my love, mine all mine.

eren yeager x black female reader (bestfriend)

warnings: oral sex, fluffyness, jealous eren, soft sex, eren is kinda a nerd, creampies and a tight grip super soaker

enjoy and happy late valentine’s day!! :))

You were buried in your textbooks at your campus library, the various pages spread out before you. Psychology. An interesting major if you say so yourself. You thought it’d be simple enough: learning about how the human mind works and what makes people tick. It was fascinating, really.

And yet here you were, hunched over on the slightly uncomfortable chair, trying your hardest to remember exactly what your professor meant by “cognitive dissonance” and how it related to human behavior. You could feel your mind starting to wander as you tried to read through this particularly dense section.

Your focus was absolute, trying to absorb as much as you could for your upcoming midterm. The world outside this small corner you had found didn’t exist—just you and your thoughts. The peace and quiet here were comforting. It was rare that you could study without distractions and were determined to take full advantage of it.

You sighed and momentarily leaned back in your chair, the quiet hum of the library your only companion. The chair creaked slightly as you stretched, glancing out the window. Students were scattered everywhere, likely heading to their next class. The soft light from the afternoon sun cast a gentle glow through the glass, and you found a certain beauty in it.

You’re about to head back to your studies when something interrupts you. Someone, actually.

A shadow loomed over your desk, casting a slight imbalance in your peaceful space. A little startled, you looked up to see a tall figure standing beside you. You didn’t need to look too hard to recognize him—Eren—your best friend since grade school.

You blinked, a bit caught off guard. He wore a white wife beater that clung to his frame a little too tight. His jeans looked worn, with traces of dirt hinting at a long work day. A mechanic’s job was never exactly pristine, you guessed. He must’ve just gotten off his shift.

“You studying?” his voice smooth like it always was when he was trying to get your attention.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes softly. “What does it look like?” You gestured to the open textbooks and scattered notes with a slight flush. You mentally, thank God, it wasn’t visible. “Psych is kicking my ass. I’m starting to wonder why I thought this would be easy.”

He leaned against the edge of your table, his arms crossed. His recent gym visits have been seriously paying off, and it’s impossible not to notice. You look away from him and face your laptop, determined not to let him catch you staring. “Maybe you thought you could magically understand the human psyche,” he’s teasing you like he always does.

You shot him a half-smile, unable to resist his charm. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I thought,” sarcasm dripping from your voice. “But I’m pretty sure I’m about to fail the midterm at this rate.”

He stifles a snicker. “Nah, you’re too smart for that.” He pushed himself off the table, walked around to the chair next to you, and sat down casually. “You’ll figure it out. You always do.”

You tried not to let his proximity distract you, but it was hard. Downright impossible. His scent—a mix of motor oil, the fresh air from his work, and something else uniquely him—was all around you now. It was distracting. Stubborn that you are, you brush it off. Doesn’t mean anything. You shifted in your seat, pretending to focus on the words on the screen. Focus.

“So, what exactly is giving you the most trouble?” his gaze never leaving you.

You exhaled deeply, closing your textbook with a slight thud. “Theories of personality,” you said, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration. “I just can’t wrap my head around it. Freud and Jung… are so complicated. Like, how are we supposed to remember all this?”

He gives you an uncommitted hum and starts explaining it to you. Eren had this ability to make anything he said sound convincing, even if it was complete bullshit. You suppose it’s his confidence.

He was close. Too close.

He leaned in when describing Freud, his arm brushing against yours as he pointed at your notes. The warmth of his bare skin sent a shiver down your spine, but you forced yourself to focus on the words he was saying and not the way his voice sounded when he spoke so close to your ear.

His eyes stayed on you even as you stared down at your notes. They were sharp as if he were studying you more than the material before you. He tilted his head slightly, watching the way your lips parted in thought, the way your fingers tapped absently against the notebook as you processed what he had just explained.

He always thought you were beyond beautiful.

“You just need to simplify it,” he interrupts his own thoughts from going further.

He never hesitated to break the invisible barriers most people respected. You had never minded before. At least, you told yourself you didn’t.

When he finally finished his explanation, you blinked at him, momentarily caught off guard by how easily he made it all make sense. For a second, you forgot how smart he was.

“Okay, that helps,” you murmured, scribbling down his words before they slipped from your mind. You could still feel his gaze on you, but you kept your focus trained on the paper in front of you, trying to ignore how your fingers suddenly felt clumsier holding the pen. “I forget you have an almost 4.0.”

Eren leaned back, stretching lazily, the movement drawing your attention to the way his muscles flexed beneath his shirt. What is wrong with you today? He simply shrugged, “I’m just that good.”

That twinkle in his eyes—that mischievous glint he always had after saying something cocky—made your stomach flip in a way that annoyed you. You were used to it, used to him, but lately, it felt different. Lately, you were noticing too much.

His voice softened just a little as he added, “But, seriously, you’re gonna ace this thing. I believe in you.”

You forced yourself to roll your eyes, but the small, grateful smile you gave him betrayed you.

“Thanks, Ren,” you said quietly, tapping your pen against your notebook, something you picked up as a nervous habit. You cleared your throat, needing to shake the feeling away. “I trust you or whatever.”

“Good,” he replied instantly, watching you a beat longer than necessary. “But if you fail, I’ll take the blame.”

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “Sure. I’ll blame the nigga who cheated his way through high school but somehow knows more about psychology than I do.”

His smirk widened, and instead of arguing, he gave you a wide smile, looking way too pleased with himself.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ ᡣ𐭩 ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ ᡣ𐭩

The library had started to empty out after a few hours, the quiet hum of students packing up their things filling the space around you. You sighed, stretching your arms over your head as you finally closed your textbook. “I think that’s enough psych for one night,” you muttered, rubbing your eyes.

Eren, who had been scrolling through his phone while waiting for you to finish, pushed off the table with a lazy grin. “Took you long enough.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t argue, stuffing your belongings into the LV monochrome bag Eren had gotten you for your birthday last year. He sees it as a way of staking his claim on you. He fell into step beside you effortlessly as you walked out of the library, the cool evening air from the hallway AC brushing against your skin.

“You actually gonna remember any of that next week?” he asked, nudging your shoulder.

You huffed. “I’d like to think so.”

He snorted, shaking his head, but before he could get another jab in, a voice called out your name from just ahead.

You both turned in unison.

A guy. From your psych class—tall, almost matching Eren’s height, though not quite—was making his way toward you. His curls were neat, framing his face in a way that made him look effortlessly put together. His skin was fair, and his smile was easy and friendly.

He was dressed in a fitted long-sleeve shirt, the fabric clinging just enough to suggest he worked out but not in a way that screamed it. The sleeves were pushed up to his elbows, revealing forearms that were toned. It was paired with gray sweats. He was cute.

His hands were shoved into his pockets, his stride unhurried as he approached, like he had all the time in the world. His gaze flickered between you and Eren briefly before settling on you, his smile widening just a touch as he finally spoke.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt, but I just wanted to catch you before you left.”

You blinked in surprise, vaguely recognizing him in lectures from a few rows ahead of you. He was one of those students who always had the answer, constantly engaged in class discussions. A teacher’s pet almost. You never really talked outside of the occasional group work.

Your best friend shifted beside you. His arms remained loosely crossed over his chest, but there was a new stiffness in his stance, as if he was suddenly more aware of his own posture. His weight shifted slightly from one foot to the other, his jaw ticking just the slightest bit. You didn’t think much of it at first—Eren was always fidgeting in some way.

You tilted your head slightly, blinking up at the guy. “Oh—what’s up?”

He hesitated just a second as if gathering the nerve, before rubbing the back of his neck with a small, almost sheepish smile. “I, uh… I’ve seen you in class a lot, and, well… I was wondering if you’d wanna grab coffee sometime? Maybe this Saturday?”

There was a beat of silence.

Your brain took longer than usual to process what he said. It wasn’t like people never asked you out, but something about this moment—maybe the unexpectedness of it, maybe the presence of Eren beside you—had you hesitating.

Your best friend, however, didn’t hesitate at all.

You felt the way his jaw tightened, just a tiny twitch, but you noticed it because you always notice things about him. His stance changed, going from casually relaxed to something more grounded, like he was unconsciously bracing himself. Learning Psychology does pay off in some cases.

His voice, when it came, was firm.

“Sorry, we have plans that day. Don’t we, (꣑ৎ)?”

Your eyes flickered toward Eren, surprise flashing across your face, but he didn’t look at you. His gaze remained locked on the guy in front of you, his expression is unreadable. His green eyes, usually lazy and half-lidded with amusement, were hardened now in a way that sent a clear message. She’s unavailable.

It seems the guy wasn’t so easily deterred. He hesitated only for a second before his strained smile returned, a little tighter than before. “Oh. Sunday, then?”

His voice was lighter, forcedly casual—like he was only picking up on the tension in the air.

You barely had time to open your mouth, to form even the beginning of a response, before Eren spoke for you. Again. Are you just invisible?

“No can do,” his tone leaving no room for argument. “She has a midterm coming up that she needs to study for.” His head tilted slightly, almost like he was appraising the guy in front of him, before adding, “Speaking of, you should be catching up on that too, right?”

The question wasn’t really a question, that much you knew.

The guy stood there, blinking, an almost shocked look on his face, as if he wasn’t quite sure what to say. His mouth opened slightly before closing again, and for the first time since approaching you, he seemed genuinely unsure of himself.

Eren, more than satisfied with that reaction, barely gave him another second to recover before turning toward you. “We’ll be leaving now,” he said simply.

And just like that, he placed a hand against the small of your back, steering you down the hallway without so much as another glance at the guy he had just dismissed. You walked in silence, your mind racing, but you held your tongue, deciding to wait until you reached your dorm room before you interrogated him on whatever the hell just happened.

The soft click of your shoes echoed in the otherwise quiet hallway. You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, that Eren had done more than step in to save you from a potentially awkward situation. The way he responded, the way he shut it all down before you even had a chance to speak—it wasn’t the usual playful teasing that he was known for.

As you reached the door to your dorm, you couldn’t hold back anymore. You turned to face him, narrowing your eyes. “Okay, what the fuck was that?” you asked, crossing your arms.

Eren didn’t even flinch. His posture was relaxed as if he already knew you were going to challenge him, as if he was waiting for it. He didn’t even look at you when he spoke. “What are you talking about?”

You raised an eyebrow, the frustration in you bubbling to the surface. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. You practically scared him off and answered for me like I couldn’t say no myself.”

Eren pushed himself off the doorframe right then, he didn’t wait for you to catch up—he just walked into your room, leaving the door hanging open. “I just did what needed to be done,” he shrugged.

His back was still to you, and you couldn’t entirely ignore the way his long, dark hair—extensions, you’d noticed before—swung just below his shoulders as he moved. He always looks so pretty with his hair down.

You followed him inside, refusing to let go of the subject.

“What needed to be done? Are you serious? Eren, you shut the guy down before he could even finish his sentence. I barely had a chance to say anything.” You stopped in the doorway, trying to keep your voice steady before you slammed the door shut.

Eren turned to face you, a grin slowly spreading across his face, like he found it all amusing. His eyes got slightly hooded as he eyed you up and down. The outfit you wore left little to the imagination, and all he could think about was.. How could he let anyone else have you?

“Why are you upset? He was making you uncomfortable. It’s my job to step in when that happens.” His gaze flickered over to your face once more, almost like he was daring you to argue.

Before you could respond, he adds, “Unless… you wanted to go out with him?”

You scoffed, shaking your head in disbelief, dropping you bag on the nearby desk before turning back to face him, “I wouldn’t even know, cause once again, you didn’t even give me a chance to respond!”

He groaned, the sound almost exaggerated. His eyes rolled dramatically, like he was irked that you weren’t just agreeing with him. “Oh please, girl. He wasn’t even taller than me. He looks scrawny as fuck. He looks like a pussy. You deserve someone better than that.” He practically waved the whole thing off with a flick of his hand.

You stared at him for a moment, caught off guard by the bluntness of his words.

“And what? That someone is you?” The words slipped out before you could stop them, and you instantly regretted how it sounded—like you were baiting him.

Eren stepped closer to where you were standing, closing the space between you. His body was warm, his scent—it was clouding you as he looked down at you. There was a beat of silence.

His response comes out slow, “Could be,”

Your breath hitches, almost caught in your throat. You mind can’t understand what is happening, it never can when Eren is this close to you. His eyes are dark, more intense than they’d been a moment ago. Your pulse quickens, and you couldn’t stop yourself from looking down at his lips for a split second before snapping your gaze back up to his eyes. With the way your mouth opens and closes repeated, it was clear you didn’t know what to say.

“What’s the matter, baby?” Eren’s voice was barely a whisper now, his breath warm against your lips, his hand tentatively grasping your waist.

“Nothing,” you manage to whisper, your voice coming out shaky, unsure if you even believe your own words.

Eren’s lips twitch upward at your lie, you’re so cute sometimes. You’re fucking gorgeous all the time. His grip gets slightly tighter when he feels you don’t push away. You can’t stop yourself from leaning into his touch, from leaning into how the heat in your chest turns into something that pools low in your stomach.

“You’re lying,” he murmurs, voice rougher now. His thumb traces mindlessly circles on your skin, and you find yourself losing all self-control.

Your heart is racing, but it’s not from fear. Far from it. It’s from the way he’s making you feel alive in a way that only he could do. You can feel the uncomfortable stickiness pooling underneath your skirt.

His other hand moves up, cupping your chin gently but firmly, tilting your face upward to meet his gaze. There’s no mistaking the way his eyes flicker down to your lips again, and there’s a certain hunger in them.

His voice carries that commanding tone you’ve always known too well. “It’s okay,” he murmurs, his thumb gently grazing your bottom lip, making you inhale sharply. “Lemme help you get the words out. That okay?”

And when he does lean in, it’s not like anything you ever felt before. His lips brush against yours gently at first, being the tease that he is. Then, without warning, he deepens the kiss, his other hand coming up to slide into your neatly done butterfly locs, gripping it just enough to tilt your head back slightly.

You’re desperate, and your best friend knows it—the way your fingers clutch at the thin fabric of his shirt, practically begging. He pulls away just long enough to yank it over his head. The string of spit still barely connecting you makes something dark flicker in his eyes, his restraint snapping completely. The next kiss he goes in for is more forceful.

You try to push eren back, just a little, but he barely budges—barely even lets you catch your breath. The taste of him is overwhelming, as you manage to get the words out between shallow breaths. “Ren, Are you—Are you sure about this?”

“Never been more sure about anything in my life.” He moves fast, tugging the strings of your white top, pushing it down until it slips from your shoulders, falling to the floor. His lips stay on yours, the sweet taste of your strawberry lip gloss making him crave more. He feels like he might cum, just from kissing you—embarrassing as that is.

You’re the one more concerned, your voice faltering, “But what—Ah! I don’t want to ruin our friend…ship.”

His lips wander further down. Pressing feather-light kisses to the crook of your shoulders before he moves back up to where your sweet spot is. He doesn’t hesitate to harshly grip your beautiful breasts, pulling at both of your brown nipples the best he can while his mouth and brain are preoccupied. The moan you let out is sinful, staggering, really, as you find your brain getting more hazy with each move he makes.

You think he hasn’t heard you when he doesn’t answer right away. Eren gently pushes you back, guiding you to the chair by your desk. He makes you sit with a firm hand and then drops to his knees in front of you, his gaze intense as he speaks again, “You really wanna stay just friends after this?”

He sucks at the skin of your soft thighs as his hands work to slip your boots off. Your eyes widen when he unbuttons your shorts, prompting you to slightly lift up to make it easier for him to slide it off of you. Before you can answer his previous questions, he’s interrupting you, “No bra or panties? Were you expecting this to happen (꣑ৎ)?”

You release a pathetic whimper when he moves closer to your sopping core, taking a deep inhale like he’s trying to commit your scent to his memory forever. You shake your head at his accusation, but it’s clear he doesn’t believe you when he takes two of his thick fingers to spread you open, revealing your tiny clit barely hidden behind its hood.

“You’re making a mess, baby. You need my help to clean it up?”

He needs to shut up. His words, his voice, do nothing but make you wetter. Eren slowly starts rubbing your clit, barely applying enough pressure to give you the stimulate you need and it’s starting to get you frustrated. “Answer Ren, baby. Do you need my help?”

You let out a cute squeal when he blows on your mound, and you’re too depraved to do anything but listen. “Yes! Yes, please help me!”

And nothing if not devoted to you, he listens. Eren places a wet, open-mouth kiss on your twitching pearl. He’s slow with his movements, savoring the honey-like taste of you that’s just pouring into his awaiting mouth. He moves his tongue in slow circles, up and down, drinking the juice coming from your slit.

You’re struggling to breathe, the pressure that’s building up all too quickly is too overwhelming. He’s not just eating you out. Eren is making love to your sweet pussy. It’s breaking you apart.

His ministrations on your dripping sap continue for a minute before he gets impatient and slips one long finger inside of you. And God, you’re tight. Gripping onto his finger so firmly, it’s almost like you never want him to leave. He begins pushing them in and out slowly.

You breathe out, “Eren! Oh my- Goddd.”

The squelches your pussy was singing become louder and more obscene. Your best friend considers that as his starting point to add another finger that is equally big and long. They both curl up to reach your G-spot instantly. The minute he found it, he just didn’t let up. Despite his slow pace, he continues to abuse your sensitive area. You’re gonna cum.

“Are you gonna cum? All over my ‘pretty’ face?” He’s throwing your own words right back at you. You were never shy about telling Eren how good he looked, and maybe that’s exactly how you ended up here.

You’re quick to nod, unable to keep silent as broken moans escape from your mouth, “M’gonna c-cum! Right there- Oh!”

How quickly your release hits you is unexpected. You gush. Streams of squirt land all over Eren’s fingers, and his face even lands on his hair, leaving it a bit damp. He gazes in astonishment as your eyes roll in the back of your head during your dramatic convulsions, and he groans into your essence. He looks down to look at the mess you made and— Oh. You creamed, too.

Fuck. He loves it. He loves that he’s the only one who can make you do that. He loves you. He also realizes that he needs to be inside you. Now.

The movements he makes, from removing you from the chair to your single bed, are hazy. You’re not sure how you got there; your brain is still trying to process the most intense, body-curling orgasm you’ve ever had in your life. But you’re quick to feel something wide and heavy pressing at your still-gushing entrance.

“M’gonna put it in now, kay?” Eren figures giving you a warning is the least he could do before rearranging your guts and mushing your insides.

You beg him to fuck you already by whining and grinding on his leaking tip. After laughing at the sight, he leans in to give you a deep kiss. You’re gasping and mewling in his mouth as you finally feel him push in.

He’s gasping in your mouth. Feeling his mind starting to scramble at the feeling of suffocating cunt. God, you’re perfect. “Is it- Is it in yet?”

He snickers. God, you’re just so cute. “No, baby. Not even halfway.”

You’re whimpering, hiccuping as small tears start to pool in your lower lash line. You’re clenching around him so tightly, and the more he pushes in, he is trying his best not to cum so quickly. He decides to plunge the rest of his eight inches in one go. Fuck you’re so loud, sputtering and wailing at the feeling of being so.. Full. You’re so full.

“Move- Move, please. Oh my-”

You don’t have to tell him twice. He steadily drags his cock away from your cervix, pulling out all the way before he pushes back inside again, hard. He repeats this. Once, twice, thrice more, and God, you “Can’t take it-it.”

He shushes your whines, kissing the tears falling down your cheeks, reaffirming you, “Of course you can, baby. I’ll even help you, yeah?”

His attentiveness is entirely too much. You’re babbling when his hand reaches in between you both to rub your swollen clit in rapid circles. A complete contrast to his way of fucking you.

The pressure in your lower abdomen is building at such a fast speed. Every harsh thrust against your cervix is painful like he’s trying to prove a point. But it feels oh so good.

“You feel so fucking good. I want you to cum, baby. Make a mess, just like you did on my face. Can you do that for me?”

You’re nodding and spluttering incoherently about how you can, how you will. You’d do anything for him. Both of your holes are releasing the most beautiful sounds. Eren presses a messy kiss onto your plump lips without waiting for you to respond, causing drool to escape from both of you. The sheets below you are feelable because of your wetness.

With a few more strokes, your body convulses once more. This time, your best friend has an up-close view of how beautiful you look in your most vulnerable state. Your orgasm gets even stronger when you feel Eren whimper against your lips and his own release, caused by the feeling of your spraying all over him.

His thrusts don’t change its pace as he stuffs you full of his seed. Your eyes look dazed, your makeup slightly ruined, and your lip combo nowhere to be found. He still can’t help but think you look just as gorgeous. He places one final peck on your lips before he speaks once more,

“I’m taking you out on a date this Saturday.”

Guess he wasn’t kidding when he said you two had plans that day.

🏷️: @keraawrites

[moon-ttokki-x]

hiii baby!!! I love your work and this is like my first request I’ve sent to anyone at all 😭 but could you do 28 and 7 for Minho ^^ tysm!!

hihi cutie~ i've actually had both of these prompts before so i got better at writing them hehe. also amogus divider bc why tf not

keychain - bf!lee minho x reader

pairing: bf!lee know x reader

summary: you fight with minho and he comes back to make things right.

genre: non-idol! au, pretty angst, soonie doongie dori honourable mention, comfort, fluffy ending, soft minho

a/n: so i started listening to lana del rey and i wrote this to 'sad girl' also div by @si-eunnis

⛓️ prompts: 7. "I'm glad you're here." / 28. "You're looking at me like that again."

skz prompt list | skz masterlist

You toss another dirty tissue across the countertop, sniffing as you watch it come to rest at the very edge, teetering. Leaning your cheek against the cold, marbled surface, you sigh and let the sharp feeling seep through your pores like iced water.

It does little to soothe the current puffy redness of your cheeks; how long have you been sitting here, crying? The golden hanging lights that frame the kitchen have made your hair warm to the touch, their beams caressing the messy state of it, and your back feels numb and achy from the awkward position you've been slumped in since Minho stormed out of the apartment. You sigh.

You don't even remember what you were fighting about.

Each exhale feels like it's been punched out of you as you relive the events of the past hour; him coming home, both of you tired and irritable, and then fighting over the pettiest thing that you don't even remember anymore.

Then he left.

You're not sure if he's coming back; he didn't take anything but his phone, which had been in his pocket as soon as he came in, and his work bag, which is still smashed against the wall where he'd dropped it with a sigh on coming home.

You can't fight a weak smile at the habit; you've installed multiple hooks along the wall so he can hang his bag up when he gets home, but every time you did, he'd always just drop it on the floor anyway, kicking off his shoes at the door.

And you'd smile and gesture at the hooks, but he'd just ignore them, kissing your fed-up expression off your face with a gentle mouth and squeezing your shoulder with a warm, solid hand.

The way he always does.

You look at those hooks now; one of the cats' collars is hanging off them, and several other items like hair ties and rings of keys adorn the others. You came into the kitchen one day and saw Minho hanging a cat toy from the hook nearest to the door so that, when he wasn't home, the cats would be able to play. Dori sits there now, batting with fluffy white paws at the feathers and bells on the string.

Ding, ding. Ding.

You're not sure why you're thinking of such things; surely anyone in your current situation would incessantly cry their eyes out, wailing at the mistake of fighting with their partner, instead of thinking about plastic wall hooks and under-stimulated cats.

You're so distracted that you don't even notice the apartment door open again, so slowly that it takes about half a minute for Minho to actually step inside.

He's soaked.

The smell of the night rain that he brings with him is suddenly so prominent inside the still air of the apartment that it's what makes you look up.

"Minho," you whisper, eyes red and puffy. You scrub a hand across your face, the skin stinging at the harsh treatment. You hadn't even heard the rain outside.

He doesn't look at you, just takes off his shoes, very deliberately. There's a little puddle of rainwater around his feet and you fight back an exhale as his socked feet meet the wet tiles. Dori immediately goes to nuzzle against his legs and then hisses at the unpleasant wetness of his owner's legs.

But Minho doesn't seem to notice, simply taking off layers until he's stood in his slacks and white work shirt, which is the only dry item of clothing he has on. He drops the rest of his clothes in a pile.

His eyes finally lift themselves to meet yours; the warmth in them is gone, replaced by something unreadable. A dull, heavy feeling settles in your gut, a sense of finality washing over your being. You know this is the moment that he'll say he wants to leave, that he just can't find it in himself to love you. He'll go to your shared room and start packing a suitcase, and take the cats with him, all while you wail and tug at his arms for him not to leave, please, Minho, don't leave-

"I'm sorry," he whispers.

Your gaze flits to his. Your voice is croaky, cracked, saturated with sadness. "What?"

He steps forward, ignoring the insistent mewing of Soonie and Doongie, who have just come into the room. "I'm sorry. I should have just left to clear my head and then came back, but I've been gone half the night."

You blink and look through tired eyes to the clock on the wall. It takes you a couple seconds to process the time. It's 1 am. Minho came home at 9 pm. You don't even know how many hours that is.

"How long were you walking in the rain?" You say, still whispering lest you scare him off again.

He shrugs. His mouth opens, like he wants to say something, but he's hesitant, like he's not sure how it will be received.

He speaks anyway. "I stalled for a while. I didn't know if you'd be here when I came back..." His fingers twist in the slightly damp material of his white shirt, fidgeting.

Your indignance suddenly takes over your upset state and you sit up straighter. "I would have waited all night for you, Minho. I wasn't going to leave..."

"I know," he says solemnly, and then quietly, "I'm glad you're here."

You nod and slowly slide off the chair you've been slumped in, disturbing a few of the tissues scattered across the countertop. "I'm sorry too, Min. I shouldn't have kept the argument going."

He shakes his head. "We were both tired. It happens."

You both stand in silence for a minute, neither one of you sure how to continue the conversation. It's almost awkward until Minho steps forward, taking out something from his pocket. He shyly holds it out.

You take a small step forward and take the small item from him. Unfolding your fingers from around it, you blink through unshed tears to see a small keychain resting in the palm of your hand. It's a little cat with its mouth open, its fur pattern like Soonie's, but grey instead of ginger. There's another attachment of a pink peach, and the clip keyring attachment is shaped like a heart.

You look up at Minho. His face is red. You remember suddenly that he's quite shy when it comes to giving things to people, and you can't fight the urge to throw yourself into his arms.

This little keychain is Minho's apology.

His skin is cold, damp from the rain, and the collar of his shirt is wet from the rain, but you hold him close anyway. You wrap your arms around his middle, squeezing your eyes shut. He's almost fetched up against the wall from how hard you threw yourself at him, but his arms find their familiar place around your shoulders.

You pull back slightly, gazing up at him. As if he wasn't soaked enough, your tears have left two patches on his chest, but he doesn't seem to mind.

"You're looking at me like that again." Minho says quietly.

You hum, a tear spilling down your cheek. "Looking at you like what?"

You see his throat bob, swallow hard. You can feel the constant thrum of his heart through the damp fabric of his shirt.

Minho gulps. "You always look at me like than when- when-"

"When I say I love you?" You finish for him.

Minho nods inaudibly, the movement of his head so small you almost don't see it at all. You smile, tilting your head at him, the tears beginning to slow.

You both stand there for who knows how long, clinging to each other, trapping between your bodies the smell of rain and fade cologne. Finally, Minho talks.

"I love you too."

a/n: this was way too long

[eu-nicola]

attraction part 2

summary: after your mother's death you marry Ward Cameron to have economic stability and you meet his son who hangs around you

warnings: age-gap, cheating (?), idk tell me

word counter: 8519

author’s note: english is not my first language, ofc i’m based on one of my favorite novels

You were at home, sitting in the living room with one of the house staff while she talked to you about organizing your birthday party. It was an important event. Everything had to be perfect, from the menu to the guest list.  

"The food has to be perfect, Mrs. Cameron," the woman said professionally. "Have you decided if you prefer seafood or something more traditional?"  

You took a moment to think, running your fingers along the rim of your glass of water.  

"Seafood sounds good," you finally replied. "But I also want some classic options. Not everyone likes strong flavors."  

She nodded and took notes, then asked you about the desserts, decorations, and other details. You spent a good while discussing every aspect of the party, making sure everything would be just right.  

And then, out of nowhere, Rafe showed up.  

He walked in with that relaxed, careless stride, like he owned the place. He seemed distracted or at least pretended to be because as he passed by you, his body brushed against yours.  

It was brief, but enough for you to feel it.  

"Sorry, Mrs. Cameron," he said in a neutral tone, but there was something in his eyes you couldn’t quite read.  

You didn’t respond.  

You just gave a slight nod, not interested in starting anything. It wasn’t worth it.  

He lingered a second longer than necessary before walking away, while you simply turned back to the staff member and resumed your conversation.  

Later, you were in Ward’s office, going over some party details with him.  

"It has to be an elegant event," your husband said, scanning a list. "I don’t want anything missing."  

"Everything will be well organized," you replied confidently.  

You were focused on the conversation when, suddenly, a familiar presence filled the room.  

Rafe.  

Like the most annoying person in the world, he walked up to you with an expression that promised nothing good.  

And before you could react, he leaned in and greeted you with a kiss on the cheek.  

He had never done that before.  

He had never shown the slightest courtesy or affection.  

But now, here he was.  

The brush of his lips against your skin was quick, almost innocent.  

But what wasn’t innocent was his hand.  

Because when he kissed your cheek, his fingers slid down your back, tracing a slow, deliberate path.  

A shiver ran through you instantly.  

It wasn’t fear.  

It wasn’t pleasure.  

It was confusion.  

A small act, but with a clear intention: to get under your skin.  

And the worst part? It worked.  

After that greeting, Rafe stayed in the room, casually talking to his father like nothing had happened.  

You, on the other hand, tried to stay composed.  

You could still feel the slight tingle on your skin where his lips had touched, the sensation of his hand moving down your back with that subtle, teasing touch. But you didn’t give him the satisfaction of a reaction.  

You stayed put, listening to the conversation between father and son without actually paying attention to the words.  

Rafe spoke confidently, as always, with that attitude of the golden boy who never quite fit the role. Ward, for his part, responded calmly.  

You just waited.  

When the conversation ended, you stood up gracefully and left the room without saying a word.  

You weren’t in the mood for more of Rafe’s games.  

But he didn’t seem too eager to leave you alone.  

Because just seconds later, you heard him follow you out.  

You didn’t look at him right away. You kept walking, head held high, but when you noticed he was keeping up with you, you stopped and turned to face him.  

You weren’t about to let him think he could mess with you.  

"Stop doing that," you said in a low, controlled, but firm tone.  

He raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence.  

"Doing what?"  

"Your games," you shot back without hesitation. "You’re too old for this."  

Rafe let out a short laugh, tilting his head with an amused expression, like he couldn’t care less about your reproach.  

"I have no idea what you’re talking about," he said with fake indifference. "I was just being polite. Not my fault if you’re not used to it."  

You stared at him coldly.  

"Don’t play with me, Rafe."  

He held your gaze for a few seconds, his lips curling into a half-smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.  

"Why? Are you scared to play with me?"  

You didn’t answer.  

You weren’t going to give him any more reasons to keep provoking you.  

So you simply turned around and kept walking, not bothering to look back.  

But as you walked away, you could still feel him there, watching you.  

You kept your pace steady, trying to shake off the conversation with Rafe and the unsettling feeling he left behind. But as soon as you turned down one of the hallways, you ran into Wheezie.  

"What’s wrong?" she asked.  

You didn’t hesitate for a second before stepping closer and gently grabbing her arm, pulling her toward you.  

"You’re the only good thing in this house," you murmured, feeling a momentary sense of relief at seeing her.  

Wheezie blinked, surprised by the sudden confession, but instead of pulling away, she gave you a knowing look and nodded.  

"I know," she said with a small smile. "Trust me, I’ve thought the same thing plenty of times."  

You couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh. In a house where tension seemed to fill every corner, Wheezie was like a breath of fresh air.  

"How’s the birthday planning going?" she asked, casually changing the subject to lighten the mood.  

You sighed, slowly letting go of her.  

"Because of the wedding, I didn’t get to plan it properly," you admitted. "So now everything’s being rushed. It’s not what I had in mind, but I just hope Saturday goes well."  

Wheezie gave you a reassuring look, like she completely understood how you felt.  

"It will," she said with confidence. "Everything you plan always turns out amazing."  

You appreciated her faith in you with a smile.  

Saturday came way too fast for your liking.  

Between last-minute preparations, organizing the event, and the constant tension you’d been feeling since getting married, everything happened in the blink of an eye. There was no time for what you really wanted to do, but there wasn’t much you could do about it now.  

All that was left was making sure the night was perfect.  

The theme of the party was simple: an all-white celebration… except for your family, who would wear dark colors to stand out among the guests. A subtle but effective way to mark the difference.  

And you, as the hostess and the newly crowned Mrs. Cameron, would be the center of attention.  

Your dress was a masterpiece.  

An elegant, sophisticated design, entirely black. The top had a deep V neckline, covered by a fine sheer mesh with a pattern resembling a spider web. Tiny white and black pearls decorated the mesh, giving it an ethereal, delicate effect.  

The skirt flowed gracefully to the floor, hugging your figure perfectly before subtly flaring into a slight train. Every move you made made the dress seem like it was gliding through the crowd like a shadow.  

Ward was by your side in a perfectly tailored black suit, matching you. His presence was steady and confident, as always.  

The Cameron mansion had been completely transformed for the occasion.  

The garden was lit by hundreds of hanging white lights, creating an ethereal and sophisticated atmosphere. The tables were decorated with white floral centerpieces and tall candles flickering in the breeze. On the dance floor, a grand chandelier hung above the polished marble, reflecting light in all directions.  

There were about a hundred guests, businessmen, Ward’s associates, members of the Outer Banks high society, and some acquaintances you’d managed to invite despite the short notice. Everyone was dressed in white, like ghostly figures under the dim lighting.  

And among them, the Camerons stood out.  

Sarah wore a fitted black satin dress with thin straps and a slit up the leg. Her hair was down in soft waves, and even though she kept a neutral expression, she seemed to be enjoying the party.  

Wheezie had chosen a more modest navy-blue dress with long sleeves and lace details. Her excitement was obvious, this was a real celebration for her.  

And then, there was Rafe.  

Dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit, his shirt unbuttoned at the top, no tie. His relaxed demeanor stood out against the seriousness of the rest of his family. He sipped from his glass with an indifferent air, but his gaze moved through the party like he was taking everything in.  

When your eyes met his, his expression didn’t change.  

But something in the way he looked at you sent a shiver down your spine.  

Ward’s hand gently pressed against your waist, pulling you closer with a smile before whispering, “You look stunning.”  

You forced a smile, thanking him.  

The night moved quickly, like every detail had been calculated down to the last second. The soft music of violins drifted through the air as guests sipped their drinks and chatted.  

The atmosphere was filled with murmurs, quiet laughter, and the clinking of crystal glasses in occasional toasts. From the terrace, you could see the dark ocean stretching beyond the glowing garden, a stark contrast to the whiteness of the party unfolding before you.  

You stayed close to Ward, his hand resting on the small of your back.  

The guests’ eyes lingered on you with curiosity. You weren’t just the youngest wife in the recent history of the Cameron family, you stood out.  

When the time came for the official celebration, everyone was led toward one of the large garden tables, where the enormous cake sat.  

It was a masterpiece, several tiers, covered in immaculate white frosting with gold details and floral decorations in cream tones. Tiny sugar pearls shimmered under the candlelight.  

The guests formed a circle around the table, and Ward stayed beside you, his arm firm around your waist.  

Wheezie was the first to start singing “Happy Birthday,” her youthful enthusiasm shining through. One by one, the others joined in until the song filled every corner of the garden.  

Sarah smiled softly, clapping politely.  

Rafe, on the other hand, leaned against one of the porch columns, glass in hand, his face unreadable. He didn’t sing, just watched.  

When the song ended, Ward raised his glass and spoke.  

“To my wife,” his voice rang with authority, with certainty. “The woman who has brought new light to this family. May this be the first of many celebrations together.”  

The guests lifted their glasses in a graceful unison and drank to you.  

You smiled and blew out the candles.  

After everyone had enjoyed the cake and the drinks kept flowing, the music changed.  

A soft waltz began playing, and Ward extended his hand toward you with a charming smile.  

“May I have this dance, Mrs. Cameron?”  

You knew it wasn’t really a question.  

And you couldn’t refuse.  

With practiced grace, you took his hand, and he led you to the center of the dance floor.  

The guests stepped aside, giving you space. The hanging lights above twinkled like artificial stars as Ward took your hand firmly and guided you into a flawless rhythm.  

“You’re the center of attention tonight,” he murmured as he spun you smoothly. “How does it feel?”  

You gave him a measured smile.  

“It’s... different.”  

Ward tilted his head slightly, still moving with you.  

“You’ll get used to it.”  

He said it with such certainty that you couldn’t tell if it was a promise or a warning.  

As you danced, you could feel certain gazes fixed on you.  

When the song ended, the guests clapped politely.  

Ward gave a small, elegant nod before kissing your hand and leading you off the dance floor.  

The soft music and the quiet hum of conversations created the perfect atmosphere, and for the first time in a while, you were actually enjoying the night.  

You walked through the guests with grace, exchanging words with each one, asking if everything was to their liking.  

Ward was engaged in conversation with some of his business partners, occasionally glancing at you with an approving smile.  

Wheezie moved around excitedly, while Sarah stayed close to her group of friends, enjoying the night in her own way.  

Rafe… well, Rafe was another story.  

You’d caught him watching you multiple times throughout the night. His eyes followed you from different spots in the garden, but every time you met his gaze, he looked away with a smirk.  

It was annoying.  

But you decided to ignore it.  

At some point, you felt the need to step away from the noise. Pulling your phone from your purse, you quietly slipped into a more secluded part of the garden, where the light was dim and the music was just a distant echo.  

You unlocked your phone, scrolling through your messages, enjoying a brief moment of quiet.  

It didn’t last long.  

“Don’t tell me you’re bored at your own party.”  

The sound of his voice made your blood run cold.  

Rafe.  

You took a deep breath and locked your phone, ready to walk away before he had the chance to start his little game.  

But when you tried to move, he stretched out an arm, resting his hand against the wall beside you, blocking your way.  

“Relax, Mrs. Cameron,” he said with a crooked smile. “I just came to say happy twenty birthday.”  

You looked at him warily.  

“Thanks.”  

You didn’t know what else to say.  

His closeness unsettled you, not out of fear, but because his presence had an effect on you, one you refused to acknowledge.  

“Great party,” he said casually. “I have to admit, I wasn’t expecting something this… elegant.”  

“What were you expecting?” you asked before you could stop yourself.  

Rafe shrugged.  

“I don’t know. Something less… sophisticated.”  

There was a teasing edge to his words, but you refused to take the bait.  

A brief silence settled between you, his eyes locked onto yours before he stepped in a little closer.  

Too close.  

A shiver ran down your spine as his scent wrapped around you, a mix of mint and tobacco you’d noticed before.  

“What are you doing?” you asked, your voice lower than you would have liked.  

He didn’t answer right away.  

Instead, his gaze dropped to your lips, then back to your eyes, and in one quick, unexpected movement, his mouth was on yours.  

You froze for a second, completely in shock.  

But then… you kissed him back.  

It was just a moment, barely a couple of seconds where you lost yourself in the feeling of his lips, warm and confident against yours.  

But then reality hit you like a bucket of cold water.  

You pulled away abruptly and, without thinking, raised your hand and slapped him.  

The sound echoed in the silent air.  

Rafe tilted his head at the impact, but when he looked back at you… he was smiling.  

A smug, amused smile, like he had gotten exactly what he wanted.  

“Don't ever do that again," you said through gritted teeth, still feeling the heat on your skin.  

“Why? Did it scare you how much you liked it?"

You glared at him.  

“It's disrespectful."

“To who?" he asked, his voice low, teasing.  

“To me," you answered without hesitation.  

Something flickered in his eyes, something you couldn’t quite figure out, but you didn’t stick around to find out.  

You turned around and walked away, feeling your heart pounding against your chest.  

No.  

This couldn’t happen again.  

You went back to the party, determined to act like nothing had happened.  

You blended in with the guests, smiling, accepting congratulations, toasting with those who approached you, and staying close to Ward.  

But you could feel Rafe’s gaze.  

You could sense it on your skin, following your every move, lingering and persistent.  

And even though your heart pounded every time you noticed, you refused to give it any importance.  

When the celebration finally ended, Ward and you said your goodbyes to the last guests, exchanging the final polite words. He wrapped an arm around your waist in a possessive, proud gesture, and you leaned into him.  

As you walked toward your room, you felt that gaze again.  

Instinctively, you turned your head, and there he was.  

Leaning against a wall, drink in hand, eyes locked on you.  

You didn’t do anything.  

You didn’t say anything.  

You just kept walking.  

The next morning, soft sunlight filtered through the windows.  

You woke up early, still carrying the emotional hangover from the night before, but determined to ignore it all. You got ready calmly and headed downstairs for breakfast, expecting to find only Ward, but to your misfortune, Rafe was already there.  

He looked relaxed, sitting with a cup of coffee in one hand, flipping through a newspaper like the world was perfectly normal.  

Like he hadn’t crossed a line last night.  

"Good morning, Mrs. Cameron," he said, in a tone that only you caught as a provocation.  

You didn’t give him the satisfaction of reacting.  

“Good morning," you replied neutrally.  

You sat at the far end of the table, where one of the housekeepers had already set your breakfast.  

Ward hadn’t come down yet.  

A heavy silence settled between you two.  

The only sound was Rafe’s coffee cup clinking against the saucer.  

“Did you sleep well?" he asked suddenly.  

You didn’t look at him.  

“Yes."

“Good," he replied, a slight hint of amusement in his voice sending a chill down your spine.  

You still didn’t look at him, focusing on your breakfast. But you could feel his presence in every fiber of your body.  

You knew he was watching you.  

You knew he was enjoying the discomfort you were trying to hide.  

Finally, you gathered your courage and looked up.  

Your eyes met his.  

Blue, cold, inquisitive.  

You couldn’t deny the obvious, Rafe was attractive. His face was the perfect mix of arrogance and danger, his posture always carried an air of overwhelming confidence, and the way he looked at you made your stomach twist… but not in disgust.  

You hated him, yeah.  

But that had nothing to do with his looks.  

It was his attitude, his way of provoking you, the way he moved with that maddening self-assurance, his insistence on making you react.  

A lazy smirk spread across his lips when he noticed you were staring.  

You immediately looked back at your plate.  

"Anything interesting in the paper?" you asked, trying to sound indifferent.  

“Not much," he replied casually. “But last night’s party was interesting, don’t you think?"

His words made your jaw tighten.  

You knew exactly what he meant.  

You didn’t answer.  

“Oh, come on," he said with a quiet chuckle. “Nothing to say about it?"

Finally, you set your fork down and looked at him with a neutral expression.  

“I have no idea what you’re talking about."

Rafe tilted his head, his smile never fading.  

“Sure you do."

A couple of seconds passed in silent tension between you.  

But just as you were about to respond, Ward walked into the dining room.  

“Good morning," he greeted, his usual authoritative tone filling the space.  

Both of you broke eye contact immediately.  

“Good morning, sweetheart," you said with a flawless smile, as if everything was perfectly normal.  

Rafe simply took a sip of his coffee, but before turning back to his newspaper, he murmured just low enough for only you to hear:  

“This is gonna be fun." 

After breakfast, you decided to take advantage of the sunny day and headed to the pool.  

Rafe had gone out with his girlfriend.  

Sarah wasn’t home.  

Wheezie was out with her friends.  

For the first time in a long while, the house felt like it was truly yours.  

You picked an elegant black bikini, put on your sunglasses, grabbed a book, and stretched out on one of the loungers by the pool.  

The warmth of the sun caressed your skin, the clear water shimmered with golden reflections, and for a moment, everything was peaceful.  

Just you, the sound of the water, and the soft rustling of the wind through the trees.  

Hours passed as you lost yourself between reading and moments where you simply closed your eyes to enjoy the calm.  

But that peace didn’t last long.  

You heard the sound of an engine approaching.  

Turning your head, you saw Rafe pulling into the driveway. He wasn’t alone.  

A brunette stepped out of the passenger seat with him.  

His girlfriend.  

You knew instantly.  

You’d heard her name before when someone mentioned Rafe’s girlfriend, but you’d never actually seen her. Until now.  

You shifted slightly on the lounger, dipping your feet into the water, pretending not to pay attention.  

But Rafe was paying attention.  

From the moment he stepped onto the property, his eyes had found you.  

You didn’t notice at first, too focused on acting indifferent, but every move you made had his full attention.  

The way your legs dipped into the water.  

The shimmer of droplets on your sun-kissed skin.  

The way the bikini hugged your body.  

For a few seconds, he completely forgot Sofía was next to him.  

“Rafe…" she called, snapping him out of it. He blinked, shaking his head and regaining his composure.  

With a charming smile, Sofía linked her arm through his as they walked toward you.  

“Stepmom," Rafe’s voice cut through your peace.  

You turned slowly, forcing yourself to stay calm.  

“Sofía," he said casually. “This is my dad’s wife."

There was something in his voice, a slight inflection only you caught.  

Sofía, however, didn’t seem to notice.  

“Oh, it’s so nice to meet you, ma’am," she said warmly, extending her hand. “I’ve heard so many great things about you."

You shook her hand politely, offering a pleasant smile.  

“Likewise. Welcome."

For a brief moment, Rafe’s eyes drifted from your face down your body, taking in every inch of you without the slightest subtlety.  

And this time, you noticed.  

There was something in his gaze.  

You didn’t know what it was.  

The air seemed to shift for a fraction of a second.  

Then, Rafe snapped out of it.  

“Let’s go inside," he told Sofía, placing a hand on her back and guiding her toward the house without looking back.  

You stayed where you were, watching them disappear through the door.  

Later, just as you were about to head inside, you saw him coming down the stairs with a bag over his shoulder.  

He stopped near the door, and for some reason, his eyes sought yours.  

“I’m leaving for a few days," he said simply.  

You didn’t understand why he was telling you.  

It wasn’t like he owed you an explanation.  

You weren’t close.  

You barely spoke when it was necessary.  

And yet, there he was, standing in front of you, with his bag and that look you still couldn’t figure out.  

You nodded without asking any more questions.  

You assumed he was leaving with Sofía, maybe on a trip or just to her place.  

And honestly, you didn’t care.  

"See you," was all you said before stepping inside and closing the door behind you.  

A few hours later, you decided to change clothes and go out.  

You wore a simple but elegant dress with comfortable sandals. You styled your hair naturally and grabbed your car keys.  

Your destination was one of Wheezie’s friends’ houses.  

You had agreed to pick her up after she texted you, asking for a ride.  

You drove calmly through the streets of Figure Eight, watching as the sun started painting the sky in shades of orange.  

When you parked and got out of the car, you barely knocked before the door swung open.  

"Wheezie! Your mom’s here!" one of the girls called from inside.  

You froze for a moment.  

But Wheezie reacted instantly, peeking out from the living room and rolling her eyes with a smile.  

"She’s not my mom," she corrected as she walked to the door. "She’s my dad’s wife."  

The other girls, who had been eyeing you with curiosity, smiled and came over to greet you.  

"Oh, sorry," said the girl’s mom, appearing beside them. "Wheezie told us you live with them, so we assumed you were her mother."  

"No problem," you replied with a polite smile. "It’s nice to meet you all."  

You greeted the girl’s parents and friends, exchanging a few words about their afternoon together.  

Wheezie, on the other hand, seemed completely comfortable with you being there.  

"See you tomorrow," she said to her friends, and after making sure she had all her stuff, she followed you to the car.  

As you drove back home, she leaned back in her seat, looking relaxed.  

"They thought you were my mom," she said suddenly, glancing at you.  

You let out a small laugh.  

"Yeah, I heard."  

"It didn’t bother me," she admitted with a small shrug. "It doesn’t bother me when it’s you."  

You turned slightly to look at her, surprised by her honesty.  

"Thanks, Wheez," you said with a genuine smile.  

She just nodded, like it wasn’t a big deal.  

But to you, it was.  

Weeks had passed with a deceptive calm after Rafe had left.  

Life went on, and though the house was quieter without him around, you didn’t spare a second thinking about it.  

But that all changed one afternoon when you got home after being out for a few hours.  

You walked in, planning to head straight to your room, but then you noticed the odd atmosphere in the house.  

There was murmuring among the staff, an unusual movement.  

"What’s going on?" you asked one of them, stopping in the hallway.  

The man hesitated before answering.  

"Mr. Rafe is back, ma’am," he finally said. "But he’s not well. He’s sick."  

You frowned.  

"Sick?"  

"Very sick," he confirmed. "He came with Miss Sofía, but she had to go home and said she’d be back later."  

You didn’t know why, but an uneasy feeling settled in your chest.  

Without thinking too much, you turned on your heel and quickly went upstairs.  

You headed straight for his room.  

The door was slightly open.  

You pushed it gently and stepped inside.  

The first thing you noticed was the heavy air and the dim lighting.  

The curtains were drawn, leaving the room in partial darkness, and the sound of Rafe’s labored breathing filled the space.  

He was lying in bed, shirtless, with the sheets tangled around him.  

His skin was pale but covered in sweat.  

You approached carefully.  

"Rafe," you called softly.  

He shifted slightly, blinking slowly.  

When his eyes landed on you, there was a moment of confusion before he managed to focus.  

"What… what are you doing here?" he asked, his voice rough like it hurt to even speak.  

"I heard you were sick," you said. "I wanted to check on you."  

Rafe squinted, a slight grimace appearing on his face.  

"Worried about me?" he muttered, sounding disbelieving, though weak.  

"Yeah," you answered honestly.  

He let out a rough chuckle, but immediately winced like it hurt.  

"I don’t believe you," he murmured.  

You sighed.  

You weren’t in the mood to argue with him when he barely had the strength to stay awake.  

You stood up, ready to leave, but then you felt his hand grab yours.  

His grip wasn’t strong, but it was enough to stop you.  

His skin was hot, too hot.  

You turned to look at him and saw that his eyes, still a bit glassy, were locked on you.  

"Don’t go," he whispered.  

Something in his voice, in his vulnerability, made you nod without even thinking.  

"I’m just going to make you some tea for the fever," you said softly.  

It took him a couple of seconds to let go of your hand, like his body was resisting it.  

When he finally did, you turned and walked out of the room with a strange knot in your stomach.  

You headed to the kitchen with determined steps.  

You didn’t know why you cared so much.  

Rafe was a grown man; he could take care of himself, and Sofía would probably be back soon to handle it.  

But still, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you had to do something.  

You walked into the kitchen and found one of the maids, who looked at you curiously.  

"Do you need anything, ma’am?"  

"I’m making some tea," you said, moving naturally around the cabinets.  

"I can do it for you."  

"No, I want to do it myself."  

She didn’t insist.  

You grabbed a pot and poured water into it, setting it to heat on low.  

As you waited, you carefully selected the herbs you needed.

You knew exactly what to do: a mix of mint and chamomile to ease the discomfort, a bit of ginger to help with the fever, and some lemon leaves for a good taste.  

When the water was ready, you added the ingredients and waited a few minutes, letting the herbs release their properties.  

Then, you poured the liquid into a cup and let it cool.  

There was no point in giving him something hot when his temperature was already too high.  

Once it was cool enough, you picked up the cup and left the kitchen, heading back to his room.  

When you got there, you carefully pushed the door open and stepped inside.  

Rafe was still in the same position you had left him in, eyes half-closed and breathing heavily.  

He looked completely exhausted.  

You walked over and placed the cup on the nightstand.  

"You need to sit up to drink this," you said softly.  

He groaned, clearly too drained to move.  

You rolled your eyes.  

"Come on, it’s not that hard," you insisted.  

Placing one hand on his arm and the other on his back, you helped him sit up.  

His skin burned under your touch.  

When he was finally upright, he took a shaky breath and rested his head against the headboard.  

"Here," you said, handing him the cup.  

He took it, staring at it with a confused expression.  

"What is it?"  

"Cold tea. It'll help with the fever."  

He looked at you like he was surprised you knew something like that.  

But he didn’t say anything.  

He took a sip and closed his eyes, as if the simple act of swallowing drained him.  

"Thanks," he murmured after a while.  

You weren’t sure if it surprised you that he said it or if you just didn’t expect it from him.  

"Just drink it," you replied, unsure how to react to his gratitude.  

As he did, you reached out to check his forehead, feeling the heat radiating from his skin.  

You frowned.  

"You’ve got a high fever, but it'll go down," you said calmly. "You’ll be fine soon."  

He didn’t respond, just took another sip before lying back down like even that had taken too much effort.  

You watched him for a few more seconds before deciding you had done enough.  

"Get some rest," you said quietly, turning toward the door.  

As you stepped out, you closed it softly behind you.  

And then, you let out a sigh.  

It had been a few hours since you left Rafe in his room, and the rest of the afternoon went by normally.  

The house was quiet, too quiet for your liking, leaving you with too much time to think about everything that had happened.  

When Ward got home later that night, you went to greet him and decided to mention Rafe, though you kept it casual.  

"Rafe came back today," you said as you walked with him toward his office.  

Ward nodded absentmindedly, not even looking at you.  

"Oh, yeah?"  

"Yeah. He was really sick, by the way. Had a high fever when he got here."  

Ward sighed, rubbing his temple.  

"He’ll get better. He always does."  

You frowned.  

"You don’t care at all, do you?"  

He gave you a tired smile.  

"If I had to worry every time Rafe got himself into trouble, I’d never have time for anything else."  

You didn’t know what to say to that.  

Ward just kept walking to his office, ending the conversation.  

It wasn’t the reaction you expected, but it didn’t really surprise you either.  

You sighed and went to bed, not thinking too much about it.  

The next morning, you woke up early and went downstairs to have breakfast alone.  

The dining room was completely silent, the only sound being the soft clink of porcelain as you poured tea into your cup.  

You took a sip, enjoying the quiet moment.  

But then, the door opened, and Rafe walked in.  

You looked at him in surprise.  

He looked better.  

The sickly, worn-out look from last night was gone, though he still seemed a little pale.  

"Morning," he said, his voice a bit rough.  

"Morning," you replied, setting your cup down. "How are you feeling?"  

He shrugged as he took a seat across from you.  

"Better."  

You were relieved to hear it, though you didn’t say it out loud.  

"Good."  

Rafe took a sip of his coffee before looking at you again.  

"Thanks for... yesterday."  

You tensed slightly.  

"It was nothing," you said flatly.  

He smirked a little, like he didn’t quite believe you, but he didn’t push it.  

There was a brief silence before you decided to ask,  

"Where’s Sofia? I didn’t see her when I got back yesterday."  

Rafe looked away, stirring his coffee.  

"She’s busy with her family and work."  

"Oh."  

You didn’t ask anything else.  

If there was something off about his response, you chose to ignore it.  

He didn’t seem eager to talk about it either because he changed the subject almost immediately.  

"And my dad?"  

"Working. As usual."  

He nodded, like that was no surprise.  

Another silence.  

Then, out of nowhere, Rafe looked at you with a hint of amusement in his eyes.  

"What are you doing today?"  

You raised an eyebrow, not understanding his sudden curiosity.  

"Not much."  

"Want to go for a walk?"  

His question caught you off guard.  

"I don’t think that’d be appropriate."  

"Why not?"  

You looked at him incredulously.  

"You know why."  

He smiled, tilting his head.  

"No, you tell me."  

You pursed your lips, realizing there was no point in continuing that conversation.  

So you just looked back at your cup of tea and took a sip.  

Rafe let out a small chuckle but didn’t push any further.  

After breakfast, Rafe left without saying much else.  

You stayed in the dining room a little longer, enjoying the quiet morning, but after a while, you decided you needed to get out.  

You didn’t want to spend the whole day stuck in the house, especially when you’d been feeling more restless than usual lately.  

So you grabbed your bag, left without telling anyone, and walked to the shopping district.  

You spent the afternoon going from store to store, enjoying the feeling of doing something for yourself.  

You bought a few new clothes, nothing too flashy, just enough to treat yourself a little.  

After a while, you sat down at a café, ordering a latte and a croissant.  

You looked out the window, taking small sips of your coffee, enjoying the quiet moment.  

By the time you got back home, it was already dark.  

You expected to find someone in the living room or at least hear some noise from somewhere, but the house was completely silent.  

There was no one there except Ward.  

You found him in his study, looking over some documents with a tired expression.  

"Where is everyone?" you asked, leaning against the doorframe.  

He barely glanced up before going back to his papers.  

"Sarah’s doing her thing. Wheezie’s at a friend’s house. And Rafe… who knows."  

You frowned.  

Something about his tone made you press your lips together.  

You hadn’t planned on saying anything else, but somehow, the conversation took a turn you didn’t expect.  

You weren’t even sure when it started, but suddenly, you were arguing with Ward.  

It was his indifferent tone, the way he acted like nothing mattered.  

Like he was always right.  

Like there was nothing you could say to change his mind.  

And that pissed you off.  

The words got sharper, the comments more cutting.  

You had never argued with him like this before.  

Sure, you’d had disagreements, but never like this.  

This time was different.  

More real.  

More intense.  

You didn’t even know how it got to this point, you just knew you didn’t want to be there anymore.  

And when Rafe showed up in the middle of the argument, you decided it was time to leave.  

You didn’t want him to hear any more than he already had.  

So without thinking much about it, you turned on your heels and walked out of the house.  

Ward just sighed, exhausted, and shut himself in his room.  

But Rafe didn’t let you leave alone.  

You heard his footsteps behind you, quick, following.  

You weren’t surprised.  

"Where are you going?" he asked, catching up to you and grabbing your arm to make you stop.  

You pulled away gently, but you didn’t keep walking.  

"Anywhere," you said without looking at him. "I just don’t want to be there."  

Rafe studied you in silence for a moment.  

And then, without much ceremony, he said, "I’m coming with you."  

You turned to look at him.  

"You don’t have to."  

"I know."  

You sighed, knowing there was no convincing him otherwise.  

"Fine," you said finally.  

He nodded, like he had expected that answer from the start.  

Rafe didn’t say anything when you got into the car with him, he just started the engine and pulled away from the main road.  

He drove surprisingly calmly, considering how impulsive he could be sometimes.  

The city lights faded behind you as he took a less-traveled road, surrounded by trees and darkness.  

You didn’t ask where you were going.  

You didn’t really care.  

You just wanted to be away.  

After a while, Rafe pulled up at a small abandoned dock by the lake.  

The water was calm, reflecting the dark sky with only a few stars visible.  

You got out of the car without waiting for instructions, hugging yourself when the cold night breeze brushed against your skin.

"Why here?" you asked as he closed the car door.  

"It's quiet," he answered simply.  

And it was.  

The only sound was the soft splashing of water against the old wooden dock.  

You walked together along the edge of the lake, no rush, no real destination.  

After a few minutes, you decided to break the silence.  

"Tell me the truth," you said, stopping and glancing at him.  

Rafe raised an eyebrow.  

"About what?"  

"About the first thing you thought of me when we met."  

He smiled, but it wasn’t a kind smile.  

"You want me to be honest?"  

You nodded.  

"I didn’t like you," he said bluntly.  

It wasn’t surprising, but it still stung a little to hear it out loud.  

"Why?" you asked, curious.  

"Because I thought you were an opportunist."  

You stared at him for a moment, processing his words.  

You didn’t give him the satisfaction of reacting.  

You just looked away and kept walking.  

Rafe kept up with you.  

"But I don’t think that anymore," he added after a few seconds.  

"You don’t?" you murmured skeptically.  

"You don’t seem like you’re trying to ruin my dad."  

You let out a dry laugh.  

"Wow, thanks for the vote of confidence."  

He gave a small smile but didn’t say anything else.  

You walked a little further before stopping.  

You didn’t know why, you just felt like you couldn’t keep going.  

You stood there, staring at the water, and without warning, tears started falling.  

Rafe frowned.  

"What’s wrong?"  

You shook your head, feeling ridiculous.  

"I don’t know," you admitted, your voice shaky. "I feel overwhelmed, but I don’t know why."  

Maybe it was the argument with Ward, the constant tension in the house, or just the fact that nothing lately felt under your control.  

Everything felt like too much.  

Rafe stepped closer and, without thinking much, pulled you into him.  

You didn’t push him away.  

You didn’t want to.  

You sank into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his body as his arms wrapped around you firmly.  

"You’re too beautiful to be crying," he murmured against your hair.  

You let out a soft laugh, wiping your tears with the back of your hand.  

"That was cheesy."  

"But it worked."  

You looked at him, your eyes still wet, and in that moment, he kissed you.  

You didn’t pull away.  

You didn’t want to.  

You didn’t know how long it lasted, but when you broke apart, he whispered something against your lips.  

You didn’t let him finish.  

You shook your head and took a step back.  

"We should head back."  

Rafe didn’t argue.  

He just looked at you for a moment before nodding and walking back to the car with you.  

The drive home was silent.  

Rafe drove with an unreadable expression, and you stared out the window, watching the city lights blur past.  

You didn’t speak.  

Neither did he.  

But the tension was there, thick in the air.  

When you got home, everything was calm.  

Ward was already asleep, which, in a way, was a relief.  

You didn’t have the energy for another difficult conversation.  

Without saying a word, you walked straight to your room, changed, and slipped into bed beside Ward.  

He didn’t even stir.  

His breathing was deep, lost in a heavy sleep.  

You stared at the ceiling for a few minutes, thinking about the kiss at the dock, the warmth of Rafe’s hands on your back, the sound of his voice murmuring against your lips...  

You squeezed your eyes shut and forced yourself to sleep.  

The next morning, you woke up early.  

Ward was already up and in the bathroom, so you got up, threw on a light robe, and went to the dining room.  

When you walked in, Rafe was already there, sitting at the table with Sofía next to him.  

They looked good together, or at least that’s what anyone would think at first glance.  

She was put together, her hair falling in soft waves over her shoulders, and her smile was calm.  

He, on the other hand, had the same unreadable expression from the night before.  

"Good morning," you greeted politely.  

Sofía returned the greeting warmly, and Rafe just nodded, watching you as you took a seat next to Ward, who arrived a few minutes later.  

Breakfast started off peaceful.  

The conversation was light, nothing too deep.  

Ward asked about business, Sofía talked about her family, and you kept your attention on your coffee and the plate in front of you.  

Until you saw it.  

Sofía slid her hand across the table and gently took Rafe’s, intertwining their fingers.  

You didn’t know why, but instinctively, you looked up.  

Rafe looked at you too.  

For a second, the world seemed to slow down.  

His blue eyes locked onto yours, and then, without looking away, he casually pulled his hand from Sofía’s.  

She didn’t seem to notice much, she just kept talking.  

You, on the other hand, lowered your gaze to your coffee, bringing it to your lips for a sip.  

And you smiled.  

You had always been a little possessive.  

Not in a crazy way, you didn’t like that, but there were certain things that belonged to you, and you didn’t tolerate someone else taking them.  

Seeing Rafe pull his hand away from Sofía after looking at you gave you a satisfaction you didn’t want to overanalyze.  

You took the last sip of your coffee and stood up calmly, sliding your chair back without making a sound.  

"I’m going to get ready," you said simply, not looking at anyone in particular.  

Ward nodded, focused on his conversation with Rafe. Sofía gave you a polite smile before turning back to her plate.

You went up to your room and opened the closet, scanning your options before settling on a navy blue dress, short and form-fitting.  

The neckline was elegant, just enough to highlight your figure without being too revealing.  

You paired it with nude high heels, which made your legs look longer and contrasted perfectly with the deep blue of the dress.  

You styled your hair, leaving it loose in soft waves that framed your face, and applied subtle but flattering makeup.  

When you walked downstairs, you felt a gaze slowly traveling over every inch of your body.  

Rafe.  

He was standing there, one hand in his pocket, his eyes tracing a slow path from your legs to your face.  

He didn’t say a word.  

But as you walked past him, he brushed his hand against yours in the slightest way.  

A barely-there touch, but enough to send a spark of electricity through your skin.  

You didn’t react. You just kept walking, head held high.  

Ward was sitting on the couch, looking through some documents when you approached him.  

"I’m going with Wheezie," you said casually.  

He barely lifted his eyes from his papers, nodding absentmindedly.  

"Alright, take care of her."  

"I always do."  

You gave him a small smile before turning toward the door.  

You didn’t need to look back to know that Rafe was still watching you.  

That day, you didn’t see Rafe again.  

After spending the day with Wheezie, you got back home and got ready to go out to dinner with Ward. You picked an elegant but simple dress, and the two of you went to an exclusive restaurant in the city.  

Dinner was calm, with Ward talking about business while you listened, nodding at the right moments. He asked if everything was okay, and you just smiled and told him it was.  

The next morning, breakfast was a little more crowded. Ward sat at the head of the table, Rafe and Sofia were next to each other, Sarah hadn’t come down yet, and Wheezie was busy on her phone while eating.  

That’s when you got the invitation from your sister.  

You weren’t close, barely talked, but her message said she wanted to see you.  

"We could go horseback riding together," she had written.  

You thought about it for a moment before replying that you’d go.  

Looking up from your phone, you glanced at the others at the table.  

"My sister invited us over."  

Ward nodded immediately, not thinking much about it.  

"We haven’t seen her since the wedding."  

"She said she wanted to see me," you clarified. "That we could go riding."  

You noticed the way Rafe looked at you for a second, but you looked away.  

"Are we all going?" Sofia asked curiously.  

"Yeah, if you want to," you replied.  

And just like that, it was settled. After breakfast, you all got ready for the visit.  

Your sister’s place was huge.  

The house had a classic style, with sprawling gardens and a pristine stable where they kept their horses.  

One of them was yours.  

Or at least, it had been.  

After your father passed away, you left it there. You distanced yourself from riding and hadn’t visited much since.  

Walking into the stable, the scent of hay and leather surrounded you.

Your sister was waiting for you with a measured smile on her face.  

"I thought you'd never accept my invitation."  

"I'm here," you simply said.  

She nodded and looked toward the horses.  

"Are you going to ride yours?"  

You looked at the animal that used to be yours, its coat shining and eyes alert.  

You didn’t answer right away.  

You carefully took the reins, approaching the horse with a mix of nostalgia and hesitation.  

You whispered its name softly, and the animal blinked before slightly lowering its head toward you, like it remembered you after all this time.  

A small flicker of emotion lit up in your chest, but you didn’t let it grow too much.  

You mounted easily, adjusting your posture while your sister did the same with her horse.  

You didn’t talk much as you rode around the property.  

Words between you two had always been measured, almost superficial, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t some familiarity in the silence.  

The sound of hooves on the grass set a steady rhythm until, in the distance, another horse approached.  

You turned your head and saw Rafe, riding with the confidence of someone who had done this many times before.  

"Mind if I join?" he asked with a light smile.  

Your sister nodded without objection, but not long after, she excused herself, saying she had things to do.  

So you were left alone with him.  

"Where's Sofía?" you asked, guiding your horse at a slow pace.  

"Inside. She doesn’t know how to ride."  

"I didn’t know you did."  

Rafe smirked.  

"I have a lot of surprises."  

You rolled your eyes lightly and kept riding.  

The cool afternoon air made the moment nice, even relaxing.  

But several times, you felt Rafe’s gaze on you.  

At first, you ignored it.  

But when you turned your head and caught him staring at you again, you decided to ask directly.  

"Why are you looking at me like that?"  

Rafe didn’t look away.  

"Because you're really beautiful."  

You weren’t expecting such a direct answer.  

But it didn’t make him uncomfortable to say it, either.  

You smiled, not giving it more importance than you wanted to.  

You rode for a while longer without the mood turning awkward.  

Until you decided you’d had enough.  

"We should head back."  

Rafe nodded and matched your pace, following you back.

@sweetgoldwoman @dudenhaaa27

[coichii]

VALENTINES ✭

—(🎧)—> scenarios on skz & their valentine’s day with you

pairing -OT8 SKZ (seperate) ♥︎ fem!reader

genre - fluff

word count - 1.1k combined

warnings - sexual innuendos, 16+ advised. sorry if some parts are longer than others 🥲

CHAN

gets veryyyy romantic

takes a day off of work just so he can spoil you

wakes you up around 07:00 am to breakfast in bed, doesn’t take thank you for an answer

explains all the things he has planned as you munch away, blushing everytime you squeal at all his ideas

ask you to wear something pretty for when he takes you out

surprises you with a walk around the city

just sits there and smiles as you step into different shops around the district, handing you his card when you need it

takes you out for a rooftop dinner afterwards, it’s super romantic and he’s acting very flustered

got you flowers for when you came back home too

and the night was filled with, you know what ☺️

let’s just say you were sore afterwards

LEE KNOW

doesn’t make much of a big deal about it, kinda of wants it to be like any other day of loving you, just with a bit more sugar

wakes you up sweetly, and plans to spend a day with you after work

gets you a small bouquet of flowers on his way home, adds a heartfelt card to it aswell

surprises you with it before tackling you and the cats to the couch to watch some cheesy romance movie

gets distracted half way through and kinda just stares at you

gets a little emotional when you read his card out loud, especially after he sees those pretty tears start to well up in your eyes

tries not to let it show though

definitely cooked you and him an amazing homemade dinner

it’s a whole romantic display too with candles and dim lighting ☺️

listens as you dump your mind onto him

stares at you with stars in his eyes as you just go on and on and was his heart racing like this before??

nice peaceful sleep

CHANGBIN

barely gets any sleep prepping for valentines day

buys everything the day before, and waits until you fall asleep to put everything up in the living room

wakes you up sweetly with kisses and cuddles, definitely murmuring little “i love you”’s along the way

gives you a card and bouquet right away, loving the look on your face when you see them

downstairs is a romantic display of balloons and flowers, chocolate lays on the table in a cute heart shaped box

super cute throughout the whole day, texting you little messages as he works

takes you out for a surprise dinner that night, somewhere fancy and up high

the dinner is romantic, filled with small and large confessions of love from him

HYUNJIN

the most articulated of them all

others plan for days but hyunjin plans for WEEKS

literally right up his alley

wakes you up all sweet, starting your day off with a long confession of love before getting up

hyunjins plan was a scavenger hunt, leaving little notes of hints on where to go next across the apartment and having you find them

each note had a small treat on it like a lollipop or a small love letter

the final surprise is a display like chnagbins, filled with lots of chocolates

the difference is changbins is more red, pink, and white whilst hyunjins is very dark red & sexy

has you put on something comfortable but pretty at the same time as you two go out for a spa day

honestly the most ideal date getting to lay their with your boyfriend with a face-mask on as you guys talk about nothing and everything at the same time

can’t stop kissing you either

HAN

actually very nervous to show you what he prepared

thought what he was doing was too simple for you and got all timid

whole time it was all you wanted

basically planned out a little relaxation pod for after work in the living room

little a pillow fort with snacks and heaps of blankets with a little basket of Disney cds to watch

he thought it was simple, so he doesn’t really understand why you run up to him and start kissing his face saying I love you over and over again 😭

also slipped a tiny love note in your back before you went to work for you to read there :((

the pillow fort is so cute with perfect dim lighting and a romantic yet simple aroma

you guys just sit there all warm and cuddly while watching Disney classics all night

when you fall asleep he carries you to bed and tucks you in before wishing you good night 🥲

whole time he couldn’t even sleep because all he could do was stay up thinking about you

FELIX

do I even need to state that he home bakes you something?

…and do I need to state that it’s heart shaped brownies?

CANTTTT get off of you the entire day

like we all know he’s very physical but he is rlly rlly fluffy today

surprises you with your favorite flowers and a handmade card

honestly just treats you like a princess

gives you your own personal spa day filled with a massage and bathing you in a soap that he brought specifically for that day

after that, it’s a handmade dinner thats displayed beautifully

now he’s wondering what you’re crying for

he sings you to sleep that night, singing various love songs because he knows you love his voice

but you’re not allowed to go to sleep until he gives you an entire speech on how perfect and loved you are

SEUNGMIN

sigh…

my boys kinda akward

didn’t know if he was supposed to ask you to be his valentine since you guys were already dating 😭

he did anyways and best believe he was stuttering and blushing like a kid asking out their 5th grade crush

on Valentine’s Day tho, he’s definitely more lovey dovey

he’s kind of like Minho where he wants it to be like every other day just with a little more sugar

his gift to you wasn’t anything physical or a card like the other guys were

instead, it was him pulling out his guitar and singing a song that he had written about you that wasn’t released

when I tell you it had the most beautiful lyricism and melody I’m not lying

safe to say you cried

JEONGIN

poor old Jeongin was the most nervous

decided to do one of those basket things (like a boo basket or a burr basket but for valentines)

filled it with a plush, chocolate, roses, perfume, lotion, etc

he handed it to you blushing and everything

stayed home while you went to work which was weird because he usually leaves before you

but it all made sense when you came home to rose petals on the floor leading to the bedroom

He didn’t mean for it to be sexual at first but it just turned out that way 😭

you guys definitely do just cuddle tho

he’s just staring at you so lovingly and pressing kisses all over your face

in love

[studyinglogic]

[Continued from above]

Mistake 1: Asymmetrical Studying

Assuming you don't just want to do a single activity in a language, or are learning a language like ASL, a language requires 4 parts to be studied: Speaking, Listening, Writing, Reading. While these have overlap, you can't learn speaking from reading, or even learn speaking from just listening. One of my first Chinese teachers told me how he would listen to the textbook dialogues while he was biking to classes and it helped him. I took this information, thought "Yeah that's an idea, but sounds boring" and now regret not taking his advice nearly every day.

I think a lot of us find methods we enjoy to study (mine was reading) and assume that if we just do that method more ™ it will eventually help us in other areas (sometimes it does, but that's only sometimes). Find a method that works for you for each area of study, even better find more than one method since we use these skills in a variety of manners! I can understand a TV program pretty well since I have a lot of context clues and body language to fill in any gaps of understanding, but taking a phone call is much harder—the audio is rougher, there's no body language to read, and since most Chinese programs have hard coded subtitles, no subtitles to fall back on either. If I were to compare the number of hours I spent reading in Chinese to (actively) training my listening? Probably a ratio of 100 to 1. When I started to learn Korean, the first thing I did was find a variety of listening resources for my level.

Fix: Find a variety of study methods that challenge all aspects of the language in different ways.

A variety of methods will help you develop a more well-rounded level of mastery, and probably help you keep from getting bored. Which is important because...

Mistake 2: Inconsistent Studying

If there is one positive to a language app, it is the pressure it puts on keeping a streak. Making studying a part of your everyday routine is the best thing you can do. I benefited a lot from taking a college language course since I had a dedicated time to study and practice Chinese 5 days out of the week (and homework usually filled the other two). Memorization is a huge part of language learning, and stopping and starting is terrible for memorization. When I was in elementary school, we had Spanish maybe a couple times a month. Looking back, it seems like it was the first class to be cut if we needed to catch up on a more important course. Needless to say, I can't even speak Spanish at an elementary level.

However, I'm sure many people reading this don't have the time to do ultra-immersion 4-hour study sessions every day either. Find what days during the week you have time to focus on learning new vocab and grammar, and use the rest of the week to review. This can be done on your commute to school/work, while you do the dishes, or as a part of your morning/evening routine. Making this as realistic as possible will help you actually succeed in making this a habit. (Check this out for how to set realistic study goals)

Fix: Study regularly (ideally daily) by setting realistic goals. Avoid "binge" studying since remembering requires consistent repetition to be most effective.

Mistake 3: Resource Choice

This is really composed of two mistakes, but I have a good example that will cover them both.

First, finding resources that are at or slightly above your level is the most important thing. Easy resources will not challenge you enough and difficult resources will overwhelm you. The ideal is n+1, with n as what you know plus 1 new thing.

Second, getting distracted by fancy, new technology. Newer isn't always better, and there are often advantages that are lost when we've made technological developments. I often found myself wanting to try out new browser extensions or organizational methods and honestly I would've benefitted from just using that time to study. (Also, you're probably reading this because of my DL post so I don't think it has to be said that AI resources suck.)

A good example of this was my time using Clozemaster. I had actually recommended it when I first started using it since I thought the foundation was really solid. However, after long term use, I found that it just wasn't a good fit. The sentences were often too simple or too long and strange for memorization at higher levels or were too difficult at lower levels. I think that taking my textbook's example sentences from dialogues into something like Anki would've been a far better use of my time (and money) as they were already designed to be at that n+1 level.

Fix: "Vet" your resources—make sure they will actually help you. If something is working for you, then keep using it! You don't always have to upgrade to the newest tool/method.

Mistake 3.5: Classrooms and Textbooks

A .5 since it's not my mistake, but an addendum of caution. I think there is a significant part of the language learning community that views textbooks and classroom learning as the worst possible resource. They are "boring", "outdated", and "ineffective" (ironically one of the most interesting modern language learning methods, ALG, is only done in a classroom setting). Classrooms and textbooks bring back memories of being surrounded by mostly uninterested classmates, minimal priority, and a focus on grades rather than personal achievement (imagine the difference between a class of middle schoolers who were forced to choose a foreign language vs. adult learners who self-selected!) People have used these exact methods, or even "cruder" methods, to successfully learn a language. It all comes down to what works best for you. I specifically recommend textbooks for learning grammar and the plentiful number of dialogues and written passages that can function great as graded readers and listening resources. (Also the distinction made between "a youtube lesson on a grammatical principle" which is totally cool, and "a passage in a grammar textbook" is more one of tone and audio/written than efficacy).

Classrooms can be really great for speaking practice since they can be a lot less intimidating speaking to someone who is also learning while receiving corrections. Speech can be awkward to train on your own (not impossible if you're good at just talking aloud to yourself!), and classrooms can work nicely for this. Homework and class schedules also have built in accountability!

Fix: Explore resources available to you and try to think holistically about your approach. CI+Traditional Methods is my go to "Learning Cocktail"

Mistake 4: Yes, Immersion, But...

I realized this relatively quickly while learning Chinese, but immersion at a level much higher than your current level will do very little for you. What is sometimes left out of those "Just watch anime to learn Japanese" discussions is that you first need to have a chance at understanding what is being said. Choosing materials that are much higher than your level will not teach you the language. It doesn't matter how many times someone at HSK 1 hears “他是甘露之惠，我并无此水可还”, they will not get very far. Actual deduction and learning comes from having enough familiar components to be able to make deductions—something different than guessing. An HSK 1 learner, never having heard the word 老虎 will be able to understand "tiger" if someone says “这是我的老虎” while standing next to a tiger. This is not to say you can never try something more difficult—things should be challenging—but if you can't make heads or tails of what's being said, then it's time to find something a bit easier. If mistake 2 is about the type of method, this is about the level. If you wouldn't give a kindergartener The Great Gatsby to learn how to read, why would you watch Full Metal Alchemist to start learning a language?

Side note: Interesting video here on the Comprehensible Input hypothesis and how it relates to neurodivergence.

Fix: Immerse yourself in appropriate content for your level. It's called comprehensible input for a reason.

Mistake 5: On Translation

I work as a translator, so do you really think I'm going to say translation is all bad? Of course not. It's a separate skill that can be added on to the basic skills, but is really only required if you are A. someone who is an intermediary between two languages (say you have to translate for a spouse or family member) or B. It is your job/hobby. In the context of sitting down and learning, it can be harmful. I think my brain often goes to translation too often because that's how I used to learn. Trying to unlearn that is difficult because, well, what do people even mean when they say "don't translate"? They mean when someone says "thank you", you should not go to your primary language and translate "you're welcome" from that. You should train yourself to go to your target language first when you hear the word for "thank you". A very literally translated "thank you" in Chinese "谢谢你" can come off as cold and sarcastic. I don't tell my friends that, I say "谢啦～". Direct translation can take away the difference in culture, grammar, and politeness in a language. If there is a reason you sound awkward while writing and speaking, it's probably because you're imposing your primary language on your target language.

Fix: Try as hard as you can to not work from your primary language into the target language, but to work from the structures, set phrases, and grammar within the target language that you know first.

Mistake 6: The Secret Language Learners Don't Want You To Know...

...is that there is no one easy method. You are not going to learn French while you sleep, or master Korean by doing this one easy trick. Learning a language requires work and dedication, the people that succeed are those that push through the boredom of repetition and failure. The "I learned X in 1 year/month/week/day!" crowd is hiding large asterisks, be it their actual level, the assistance and free time available to them, "well actually I had already studied this for 4 years", or just straight-up lying. Our own journeys in our native tongue were not easy, they required years and years of constant immersion and instruction. While we are now older and wiser people that can make quick connections, we are also burdened with things like "jobs", "house work", "school work", and the digital black hole that is "social media" that take up our time and energy. Everything above is to help make this journey a little bit easier, quicker, and painless, but it will never be magic.

I find that language learning has a lot in common with the fitness community. People will talk about the workout that changed their life and how no other one will do the same—and it really can be the truth that it changed their life and that they feel it is the ultimate way. The real workout that will change your life is the one you're most consistent with, that you enjoy the most. Language learning is just trying to find the brain exercise that you can be the most consistent with.

Fix: Save your energy looking for shortcuts, and do the work, fail, and come back for more. If someone tells you that you can become fluent in a ridiculously short amount of time, they are selling you a fantasy (and likely a product). You get out what you put in.

For those that made it to the end, here are some of my "universal resources":

Refold Method: I don't agree with their actual method 100%, but they've collected a lot of great resources for learning languages. I've found their Chinese and Korean discords to also be really helpful and provided even more resources than what's given in their starter guides.

Language Reactor: Very useful, and have recently added podcasts as a material! The free version is honestly all you need.

Anki: If I do not mention it, the people with 4+ year streaks with a 5K word deck will not let me forget it. It can be used on desktop or on your phone as an app. If you need a replacement for a language learning app, this is one of them. Justin Sung has a lot of great info on how to best utilize Anki (as does Refold). It's not my favorite, but it could be yours!

LingQ: "But I thought you said language apps are bad!" In isolation, yes. Sorry for the clickbait. This one is pretty good, and more interested in immersing you in the language than selling a subscription to allow you to freeze your streak so the number goes up.

Grammar Textbooks: For self-taught learning, these are going to be the best resource since it's focused on the hardest part of the language, and only that. If you're tired of seeing group work activities, look for a textbook that is just on grammar (Modern Mandarin Chinese Grammar is my rec for Chinese, and A Guide to Japanese Grammar by Tae Kim is the most common/enthusiastic rec I've heard for Japanese).

Shadowing: Simply repeat what you hear. Matt vs Japan talks about his setup here for optimized shadowing (which you can probably build for a lot cheaper now), but it can also just be you watching a video and pausing to repeat after each sentence or near simultaneously if you're able.

Youtube: Be it "Short Story for Beginners", "How to use X", "250 Essential Phrases", or a GRWM in your target language, Youtube is the best. Sometimes you have to dig to find what works for you, but I imagine there is something for everyone at every level. (Pro tip: People upload textbook audio dialogues often, you don't even have to buy the textbook to be able to learn from it!)

A Friend: Be it a fellow learner, or someone who has already mastered the language, it is easier when you have someone, not only to speak to, but to remind you why you're doing this. I write far more in Chinese because I have friends I can text in Chinese.

Pen and Paper: Study after study, writing on paper continues to be the best method for memorization. Typing or using a pen and tablet still can't compare to traditional methods.

The Replies (Probably): Lots of people were happy to give alternatives for specific languages in the replies of my DL post. The community here is pretty active, so if this post blows up at least 20% of what the last one did, you might be able to find some great stuff in the replies and reblogs.

I wish you all the best~

Language Apps Suck, Now What?: A Guide to Actually Becoming "Fluent"

The much requested sequel to my DL post that was promised almost a year ago.

I'm going to address all of the techniques that have helped me in my language learning journeys. Since 95% of these came from the fact that in a past language learning mistake, they are titled as my mistakes (and how I would/did things differently going forward). For those that read to the bottom there is a "best universal resources" list.

Disclaimers:

"Fluency" is hard to define and everyone has their own goals. So for the purpose of this post, "fluency" will be defined as "your personal mastery target of the language".

If you just want to pick up a bit of a language to not sound like a total foreigner on vacation or just exchange a few words in a friend's native language, feel free to ignore what doesn't apply, but maybe something here could help make it a little easier.

This is based on my own personal experience and (some) research.

Mistake 1: Asymmetrical Studying

Assuming you don't just want to do a single activity in a language, or are learning a language like ASL, a language requires 4 parts to be studied: Speaking, Listening, Writing, Reading. While these have overlap, you can't learn speaking from reading, or even learn speaking from just listening. One of my first Chinese teachers told me how he would listen to the textbook dialogues while he was biking to classes and it helped him. I took this information, thought "Yeah that's an idea, but sounds boring" and now regret not taking his advice nearly every day.

I think a lot of us find methods we enjoy to study (mine was reading) and assume that if we just do that method more ™ it will eventually help us in other areas (sometimes it does, but that's only sometimes). Find a method that works for you for each area of study, even better find more than one method since we use these skills in a variety of manners! I can understand a TV program pretty well since I have a lot of context clues and body language to fill in any gaps of understanding, but taking a phone call is much harder—the audio is rougher, there's no body language to read, and since most Chinese programs have hard coded subtitles, no subtitles to fall back on either. If I were to compare the number of hours I spent reading in Chinese to (actively) training my listening? Probably a ratio of 100 to 1. When I started to learn Korean, the first thing I did was find a variety of listening resources for my level.

Fix: Find a variety of study methods that challenge all aspects of the language in different ways.

A variety of methods will help you develop a more well-rounded level of mastery, and probably help you keep from getting bored. Which is important because...

Mistake 2: Inconsistent Studying

If there is one positive to a language app, it is the pressure it puts on keeping a streak. Making studying a part of your everyday routine is the best thing you can do. I benefited a lot from taking a college language course since I had a dedicated time to study and practice Chinese 5 days out of the week (and homework usually filled the other two). Memorization is a huge part of language learning, and stopping and starting is terrible for memorization. When I was in elementary school, we had Spanish maybe a couple times a month. Looking back, it seems like it was the first class to be cut if we needed to catch up on a more important course. Needless to say, I can't even speak Spanish at an elementary level.

However, I'm sure many people reading this don't have the time to do ultra-immersion 4-hour study sessions every day either. Find what days during the week you have time to focus on learning new vocab and grammar, and use the rest of the week to review. This can be done on your commute to school/work, while you do the dishes, or as a part of your morning/evening routine. Making this as realistic as possible will help you actually succeed in making this a habit. (Check this out for how to set realistic study goals)

Fix: Study regularly (ideally daily) by setting realistic goals. Avoid "binge" studying since remembering requires consistent repetition to be most effective.

Mistake 3: Resource Choice

This is really composed of two mistakes, but I have a good example that will cover them both.

First, finding resources that are at or slightly above your level is the most important thing. Easy resources will not challenge you enough and difficult resources will overwhelm you. The ideal is n+1, with n as what you know plus 1 new thing.

Second, getting distracted by fancy, new technology. Newer isn't always better, and there are often advantages that are lost when we've made technological developments. I often found myself wanting to try out new browser extensions or organizational methods and honestly I would've benefitted from just using that time to study. (Also, you're probably reading this because of my DL post so I don't think it has to be said that AI resources suck.)

A good example of this was my time using Clozemaster. I had actually recommended it when I first started using it since I thought the foundation was really solid. However, after long term use, I found that it just wasn't a good fit. The sentences were often too simple or too long and strange for memorization at higher levels or were too difficult at lower levels. I think that taking my textbook's example sentences from dialogues into something like Anki would've been a far better use of my time (and money) as they were already designed to be at that n+1 level.

Fix: "Vet" your resources—make sure they will actually help you. If something is working for you, then keep using it! You don't always have to upgrade to the newest tool/method.

Mistake 3.5: Classrooms and Textbooks

A .5 since it's not my mistake, but an addendum of caution. I think there is a significant part of the language learning community that views textbooks and classroom learning as the worst possible resource. They are "boring", "outdated", and "ineffective" (ironically one of the most interesting modern language learning methods, ALG, is only done in a classroom setting). Classrooms and textbooks bring back memories of being surrounded by mostly uninterested classmates, minimal priority, and a focus on grades rather than personal achievement (imagine the difference between a class of middle schoolers who were forced to choose a foreign language vs. adult learners who self-selected!) People have used these exact methods, or even "cruder" methods, to successfully learn a language. It all comes down to what works best for you. I specifically recommend textbooks for learning grammar and the plentiful number of dialogues and written passages that can function great as graded readers and listening resources. (Also the distinction made between "a youtube lesson on a grammatical principle" which is totally cool, and "a passage in a grammar textbook" is more one of tone and audio/written than efficacy).

Classrooms can be really great for speaking practice since they can be a lot less intimidating speaking to someone who is also learning while receiving corrections. Speech can be awkward to train on your own (not impossible if you're good at just talking aloud to yourself!), and classrooms can work nicely for this. Homework and class schedules also have built in accountability!

Fix: Explore resources available to you and try to think holistically about your approach. CI+Traditional Methods is my go to "Learning Cocktail"

Mistake 4: Yes, Immersion, But...

I realized this relatively quickly while learning Chinese, but immersion at a level much higher than your current level will do very little for you. What is sometimes left out of those "Just watch anime to learn Japanese" discussions is that you first need to have a chance at understanding what is being said. Choosing materials that are much higher than your level will not teach you the language. It doesn't matter how many times someone at HSK 1 hears “他是甘露之惠，我并无此水可还”, they will not get very far. Actual deduction and learning comes from having enough familiar components to be able to make deductions—something different than guessing. An HSK 1 learner, never having heard the word 老虎 will be able to understand "tiger" if someone says “这是我的老虎” while standing next to a tiger. This is not to say you can never try something more difficult—things should be challenging—but if you can't make heads or tails of what's being said, then it's time to find something a bit easier. If mistake 2 is about the type of method, this is about the level. If you wouldn't give a kindergartener The Great Gatsby to learn how to read, why would you watch Full Metal Alchemist to start learning a language?

Side note: Interesting video here on the Comprehensible Input hypothesis and how it relates to neurodivergence.

Fix: Immerse yourself in appropriate content for your level. It's called comprehensible input for a reason.

Mistake 5: On Translation

I work as a translator, so do you really think I'm going to say translation is all bad? Of course not. It's a separate skill that can be added on to the basic skills, but is really only required if you are A. someone who is an intermediary between two languages (say you have to translate for a spouse or family member) or B. It is your job/hobby. In the context of sitting down and learning, it can be harmful. I think my brain often goes to translation too often because that's how I used to learn. Trying to unlearn that is difficult because, well, what do people even mean when they say "don't translate"? They mean when someone says "thank you", you should not go to your primary language and translate "you're welcome" from that. You should train yourself to go to your target language first when you hear the word for "thank you". A very literally translated "thank you" in Chinese "谢谢你" can come off as cold and sarcastic. I don't tell my friends that, I say "谢啦～". Direct translation can take away the difference in culture, grammar, and politeness in a language. If there is a reason you sound awkward while writing and speaking, it's probably because you're imposing your primary language on your target language.

Fix: Try as hard as you can to not work from your primary language into the target language, but to work from the structures, set phrases, and grammar within the target language that you know first.

Mistake 6: The Secret Language Learners Don't Want You To Know...

...is that there is no one easy method. You are not going to learn French while you sleep, or master Korean by doing this one easy trick. Learning a language requires work and dedication, the people that succeed are those that push through the boredom of repetition and failure. The "I learned X in 1 year/month/week/day!" crowd is hiding large asterisks, be it their actual level, the assistance and free time available to them, "well actually I had already studied this for 4 years", or just straight-up lying. Our own journeys in our native tongue were not easy, they required years and years of constant immersion and instruction. While we are now older and wiser people that can make quick connections, we are also burdened with things like "jobs", "house work", "school work", and the digital black hole that is "social media" that take up our time and energy. Everything above is to help make this journey a little bit easier, quicker, and painless, but it will never be magic.

I find that language learning has a lot in common with the fitness community. People will talk about the workout that changed their life and how no other one will do the same—and it really can be the truth that it changed their life and that they feel it is the ultimate way. The real workout that will change your life is the one you're most consistent with, that you enjoy the most. Language learning is just trying to find the brain exercise that you can be the most consistent with.

Fix: Save your energy looking for shortcuts, and do the work, fail, and come back for more. If someone tells you that you can become fluent in a ridiculously short amount of time, they are selling you a fantasy (and likely a product). You get out what you put in.

For those that made it to the end, here are some of my "universal resources":

Refold Method: I don't agree with their actual method 100%, but they've collected a lot of great resources for learning languages. I've found their Chinese and Korean discords to also be really helpful and provided even more resources than what's given in their starter guides.

Language Reactor: Very useful, and have recently added podcasts as a material! The free version is honestly all you need.

Anki: If I do not mention it, the people with 4+ year streaks with a 5K word deck will not let me forget it. It can be used on desktop or on your phone as an app. If you need a replacement for a language learning app, this is one of them. Justin Sung has a lot of great info on how to best utilize Anki (as does Refold). It's not my favorite, but it could be yours!

LingQ: "But I thought you said language apps are bad!" In isolation, yes. Sorry for the clickbait. This one is pretty good, and more interested in immersing you in the language than selling a subscription to allow you to freeze your streak so the number goes up.

Grammar Textbooks: For self-taught learning, these are going to be the best resource since it's focused on the hardest part of the language, and only that. If you're tired of seeing group work activities, look for a textbook that is just on grammar (Modern Mandarin Chinese Grammar is my rec for Chinese, and A Guide to Japanese Grammar by Tae Kim is the most common/enthusiastic rec I've heard for Japanese).

Shadowing: Simply repeat what you hear. Matt vs Japan talks about his setup here for optimized shadowing (which you can probably build for a lot cheaper now), but it can also just be you watching a video and pausing to repeat after each sentence or near simultaneously if you're able.

Youtube: Be it "Short Story for Beginners", "How to use X", "250 Essential Phrases", or a GRWM in your target language, Youtube is the best. Sometimes you have to dig to find what works for you, but I imagine there is something for everyone at every level. (Pro tip: People upload textbook audio dialogues often, you don't even have to buy the textbook to be able to learn from it!)

A Friend: Be it a fellow learner, or someone who has already mastered the language, it is easier when you have someone, not only to speak to, but to remind you why you're doing this. I write far more in Chinese because I have friends I can text in Chinese.

Pen and Paper: Study after study, writing on paper continues to be the best method for memorization. Typing or using a pen and tablet still can't compare to traditional methods.

The Replies (Probably): Lots of people were happy to give alternatives for specific languages in the replies of my DL post. The community here is pretty active, so if this post blows up at least 20% of what the last one did, you might be able to find some great stuff in the replies and reblogs.

I wish you all the best~

[azsazz]

Over Ice (Part 10)

Hockey!Rhysand x Reader

Summary: Anon Req: She’s walking around Campus and BOOM right smack dab into Broody McBrooder!! She THEN finds out he’s the tutor for one of her hardest courses (personally Psych would be a good one) and they become super duper close with him and the team!!!

Warnings: Drinking

Word Count: 3517

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9)

Notes: Happy Valentine’s Day my loves 💙

_________________________________________

“Well…” Rhys trails off from over your shoulder. You don’t think your muscles could coil any tighter, didn’t think your cheeks could flare any hotter as you stared down at the returned quiz in your hands. Then Rhys appeared behind you after speaking with your professor. Not even the heat of his body nor the breath of his soft breathing can distract you from the paper. “It’s not an F.”

“It certainly isn’t an A,” you respond, glaring so hard at the red circle with the D+ scrawled in the middle. You’re focusing as much attention on making the paper burst into flames as you are trying to keep the prickling behind your eyes from turning into something more.

“I think aiming for an A was a bit ambitious to begin with,” Rhys says gently. It wouldn’t be hard for him to sense your utter disappointment, with your head hung low and the defeated slump to your shoulders. He has an urge to eat the space between you, wrap his arm around your shoulders and let you lean into him, to comfort you. He wants to see you smile, even glare at him, because anything is better than seeing you this downtrodden.

“Easy for you to say,” you mutter, shoving the paper into the fold of your binder before slamming it shut. The soft thud it makes does nothing to expel your annoyance, and you almost bare your teeth at the damn thing as you stuff it in your bag. “You’re like a dictionary for all things psychology.”

Rhys follows you from the hall. At least this was your last class before the weekend. You can shove any and all things psychology from your mind and focus on what’s much more important tonight, Gwyn’s birthday.

He holds the door to the lecture hall open and you dodge students entering for the class following yours. You catch the looks people shoot Rhys’ way. Apparently, he’s well-known. You see girls ogle him, guys nod in his direction as he passes like he’s some sort of celebrity or something. It’s almost laughable, how someone on a sports team could be so valued across a campus. And he’s not even on the football team, which you find even more impressive, since your school lives and breathes Bats football. Hockey is a close second, with women’s soccer a shocking close third for student events.

You suppose that any sporting event where people can get shit faced and scream nonsense in a large crowd would be appealing to most.

“Come on,” Rhys says. “You really didn’t do that bad.”

You shoot him a look.

“Rhys. Were we looking at the same quiz back there? Because all I saw was a big, fat D.”

He carefully folds his bottom lip between his teeth and amusement swimming to life in those heart-stopping violet eyes of his. He refrains from cracking a joke about how there could be another big, fat, D in your future, if you ask nicely. It takes superhuman effort to keep the comment to himself.

Still, you notice, and smack him playfully on the arm. “Gross.”

He holds up his hands in fake surrender. “I didn’t even say anything!”

“You didn’t need to,” you reprimand. You turn your head away from him, acting like you’re searching for something across campus. If he catches the way your cheeks flush from whatever he may have been thinking, he politely refrains from pointing it out.

“I studied so hard, Rhys,” you complain, grasping the straps of your backpack tighter. “I’m actually doomed.”

“You’re not doomed,” Rhys refutes. His arm brushes against yours as you walk and every time you remind yourself that someone could see you, you shift an inch over. “We’re going to have to work harder, that’s all.” Rhys doesn’t seem to notice the way you’re trying to create space. It’s like there’s a magnetic field drawing him into you, and within a few feet, you’re walking on the edge of the sidewalk.

And the thing is, you are trying really hard. You don’t know how much more effort you have, and there’s only a month and a half until finals. By your calculations, you’ll have to get Bs on every assignment, quiz, and test until the end of the year if you want to pass.

That sounds impossible.

“How about Saturday night? You can come over to mine after the game and we can study together.”

You can’t, even though you kind of want to see what the hockey house is like when there aren’t a thousand people stuffed into the interior. You want to see what Rhys’ room looks like. If word makes its way back to Mor, you’ll be totally and completely fucked. She’s your best friend and you’d like to keep your relationship with her. You’d be a terrible friend if you didn’t.

At your apprehension, Rhys continues. “Mor won’t find out, and if she does, all you have to do is tell her the truth. That I’m your tutor.” Fake boyfriend goes unsaid, and that’s the part you’re worried about.

Worried about it because you think you’re starting to like being Rhys’ fake girlfriend. The soft touches when Amarantha around feel good, an arm around your shoulder, the warm looks he sends you from the ice, like he’s still thinking about you when he’s deep in a game. And that kiss…you’re starting to get why his reputation is the way it is. His lips are sinful.

“I’m hoping I’ll be curing a hangover with greasy pizza or a juicy burger.” It’s a poor excuse, an even worse attempt at deflection.

Rhys quirks a brow. “From your little wine night?”

You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest as you turn down the block to your dorm. It’s now you realize that Rhys is taking the time to walk you home. He mustn’t have much to do for the party tonight, despite the extravaganza being hosted at his house. It must be nice to have teammates pulling their weight.

Gwyn doesn’t get out of her last class until six thirty, which gives you and Mor almost two hours to pull out all of the decorations you’ve been stockpiling in the back of your closet, and pick up the cake from the local bakery. You don’t have to worry about getting the drinks for later, Gwyn was so excited to finally turn twenty-one and wanted to purchase the alcohol now that she’s officially legal. You and Mor pitched in, sending her off this morning with a pancake breakfast and cash for the alcohol. You can’t wait to pop open a bottle after the long day you’ve had.

“I’ll have you know that wine drunk is way better than vodka drunk,” you wrinkle your nose, “And it’s much better than getting drunk off of Cassian’s skunk punch. Seriously, what the hell is even in that?” You shudder at the memory. “Why is it even called skunk punch?”

Rhys grimaces, especially when he remembers that there will be no escaping Cassian’s concoction of basically every alcohol he can find and afford that night. It’s somehow even worse than a bar mat shot. As part of the tradition, everyone on the team must take at least one skunk punch shot, and he’s not looking forward to it.

“Trust me, it’s better not to know the answer to either of those questions.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” you agree.

You and Rhys stop just outside your building. He stares at you like he doesn’t want this moment to end, and neither do you. There’s a betraying thought in your mind that says you should roll up onto the tips of your toes and press your mouth against his, that he wouldn’t push you away. That his hands would wind around you to pull you even closer, that his fingers would thread through your hair like they did that night and guide your head like they might have if no one interrupted your kiss—

“Well, this is me,” you say, and curse yourself for being so awkward. Truthfully, you have no idea what to say, how to act when your heart is pounding in your chest with the way he’s looking at you.

His eyes flit to the building and back. “Are you sure you can’t want to make an appearance at my party tonight?” Rhys asks. “Just in case she shows up, of course.”

Right. In case Amarantha shows face.

He wants you to come even if his ex doesn’t show up. Hell, he’s praying that she doesn’t show up. Rhys just isn’t ready to say goodbye yet. The short amount of time he’s seen you today—walking you from your class to your dorm—hasn’t been enough.

You shake your head and he tries his best to mask the deflation of his shoulders. It’s not just any wine night; it’s your roommate’s birthday. If it wasn’t such an important event, or Gwyn didn’t despise hockey so much, you’d consider trying to convince her into going. “I really can’t tonight. It’s Gwyn’s birthday, remember?”

“Of course,” Rhys offers you a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. It’s polite. Awkward. “I’ll see you Saturday night at the game, right? And we’ll study after.”

“Sure you won’t have another party to attend after the big game, Mr. Hotshot?” you tease, and a true smile threatens to crack his face.

“There is one, but one of my other teammates is hosting,” he teases back. “We’ll have the place to ourselves.”

Your stomach flips at his words. All alone with Rhys? At his house?

To study, you reprimand yourself, though you can think of a million other things you’d like to be studying instead of psychology. Anatomy, for one.

“Yeah,” you swallow the butterflies trying to escape up your windpipe. You step away from him, needing the space before you do or say something you shouldn’t. You turn toward the door, continuing over your shoulder. “See you Saturday.”

“He even had a drawing!” Gwyn exclaims, and the three of you burst into another fit of the combination of the night: laughter and tears. Laughing so hard that you can’t help the droplets that squeeze from the corners of your eyes.

Her cheeks are almost as red as the wine in her glass. Or, was in her glass. How did she down her cup that fast? Your cup is still half-full. You glance at Mor, who’s in the middle of capturing a video of the drunk birthday girl who sloppily sticks her fork into the cake the three of you have been picking at all night. She ends up with frosting on her nose and the sight of your quietest roommate having the time of her life is so endearing that you’ve barely even thought about the party Rhys is at.

“No way,” Mor refutes, shutting her phone off and taking a big gulp of her wine. She’s in a maroon tank top and sleep shorts with her fuzzy platform slippers on her feet. They’re shaped like teddy bears, and one keeps staring at you where she taps her toes to the rhythm of the music pouring from the speaker on the kitchen counter.

Gwyn’s auburn hair pops against the white t-shirt she has on. There’s an emerald logo of the local bookstore on the front and a smear of blue icing beside it. A drop of wine down the center. It’s been a night for the birthday girl, and you’re having the time of your life.

“I swear! I know I’m a writer but I’m in no way that creative,” Gwyn insists, waving her fork around. A dot of icing goes flying toward the couch and lands on Mor’s cheek, causing another round of roaring laughter.

Gwyn had been telling a story about how someone in her creative writing class wrote the most ridiculous line she’s ever heard. Watery bowels. You can’t stop thinking about it, and every time you do, it causes another wave of cackles to sound.

Mor swipes the frosting from her face and licks it off her finger. You’re about to reach for your abandoned fork when your phone buzzes next to your socked foot.

You’re thankful for the alcohol warming your skin, because you’re full-on blushing and grinning so hard your cheeks hurt at the name that appears.

Rhys: Bored yet?

He’s been bothering you all night. This is the fourth time he’s asked you this. He wants you to try and convince your roommates to go over to their house and join in on the festivities, but you told him that you were having too much fun. He then tried to score an invite to your dorm, saying that it can’t be that much fun and to prove it if it was.

You replied with a video of you sending a picture of the mutilated cake, to which Rhys sent whining emojis in response.

You: Not quite.

Rhys: Is there still cake left? I’m famished.

You squint because the words are a little hazy with the amount of wine you’ve drank tonight. You almost jump out of your seat when the phone buzzes in your hand, lighting up with Rhys’ call.

You scramble to hide the screen, making sure that neither of your roommates saw. Thankfully, they’re both occupied with something on Mor’s phone, eyes wide as they try and comprehend what they’re looking at.

You want to answer, you do. You miss Rhys even though you’ve seen him a few hours ago. You wonder what he’s wearing, if those violet eyes are glossed with drink like yours are.

When you stand with the intention of slipping somewhere private to answer Rhys’ call, Mor takes notice.

“Where are you going?”

“Bathroom,” you answer almost too quickly, and stride for the door.

“Hello?” You answer, hitting the light switch with your elbow and flicking the lock shut behind you.

“Hi,” Rhys greets, and your smile breaks your face.

It’s loud at the house he’s at, but the background noise of partying students and loud music dims some as he finds somewhere quieter. Your heart flips in your chest at the thought of him abandoning a party to call you.

“What are you doing?” You whisper, leaning back against the door.

“Calling you,” he answers like an ass. Typical.

“Yeah, I got that. But why? You know Mor is in the room with me, right?”

“Is she in the room with you?” Rhys prompts.

You roll your eyes. “No.”

“Where are you hiding?”

“Bathroom,” you mumble, cheeks flaring. The ugly cream color matches the rest of the rooms in your on-campus apartment, the ceramic flooring perpetually cold beneath your socked feet. The only ounce of color is in the shower curtain you and your roommates picked out on sale when you moved in, a teal number with swirls of gold and mint. It’s the same pattern you swear was on your grandmother’s sofa when you were young. “You?”

“My room,” Rhys says, and you try not to think too much about that. “I’d say I have about ten minutes before Cassian finds me and forces me to do a skunk shot with him, so if you hear the sound of a bear mixed with a screaming eagle, that’s him.”

You snort a laugh. “That’s okay, I only have a few minutes, too.”

“Yeah, how’s that going? You three aren’t lonely yet?”

“No,” you roll your eyes even though he can’t see. “But clearly you are.”

Rhys hums noncommittally. “So what if I am?”

The fluorescent lights are burning your eyes and you blink blearily, wondering if you just heard what you think you did. You curse yourself for forgetting your glass in the spot you abandoned to eagerly answer his phone call, because your throat has suddenly dried up. You wonder how unladylike you’ll sound if you decided to stick your head under the faucet.

“I would tell you that there’s a million girls just downstairs to keep you company,” you say, but you don’t really mean it. In fact, the wine in your stomach sours when the words come up.

“Maybe,” Rhys says, and you can picture him shrugging those broad shoulders of his. The very ones you want to kick your legs over with his head between your thighs. Fuck, you can’t be thinking like this. “But none of them are my lucky charm.”

His lucky charm? You’re his lucky charm? You can’t say that you’re upset with the sentiment, even if it’s not true. He’s drinking, he’s just flirting, which is only going to make the hole you’re already slowly digging yourself even deeper, and you’re not all that sure you’d mind.

Mor’s laughter creeps under the door and you force yourself to change the subject. Focus.

“You know what? Maybe I need one of those good luck thingies,” you sit on the edge of the tub, reveling in the way the chilled porcelain cools your burning skin.

“Good luck thingies?” Rhys muses, and you wonder what he’s doing right now. Is he lying on his bed? Sitting at his desk? Pacing the room?

You startle back into yourself when Rhys calls your name. He sounds worried, and it’s flattering. You imagine the way he might be chewing his lip, that same hot, demanding mouth you want to feel on yours again.

The scalding heat in your cheeks reflects between your legs, your pussy pulsing with want. “You listening to me?”

“Huh?”

Beautiful laughter echoes through the line and steals your breath from your lungs.

“I asked ‘what good luck thingies?’”

Good luck thingies? You frown, racking your mind for the lost conversation. Oh! “You know, like…” you trail off, waving your hand flippantly as you grasp for answers. “Something that can help me ace the next test. Like how you claim I’m your good luck charm. I think James’ is listening to this one rap song from the nineties—”

Rhys grunts unhappily and you almost smile.

“Please don’t bring up Attor while we’re on the phone,” he all but groans. You stifle a giggle at his jealousy.

“Fine,” you roll your eyes. Outside the door, your roommates begin chanting your name from the couch, their voices muffled. They’re asking for the third bottle of wine you stashed in the fridge to cool. “What do you think my good luck thingie should be?”

Rhys hums thoughtfully and the sound rumbles to your core. You’re sure he doesn’t mean it to sound as arousing as it does. You clench your thighs together carefully.

“Don’t know,” he says. “Maybe you should come here and find out.”

Gods, does that sound perfect right now. You want to know exactly what he means by that, and when you open your mouth to respond, you’re cut off by a loud pounding on his side of the phone that makes you flinch. You wobble on your perch but manage to keep steady as you hear Cassian get into his room. Rhys curses about how he thought he locked the door.

“Bitch, why the fuck are you hiding?” Cassian bellows. “We need to take skunk shots, stat! The rest of the team is waiting!”

Rhys breathes your name over the line. “I have to go. Come over if you can, yeah?”

“I can’t promise anything,” you whisper back, and the line goes dead.

You take a second to compose yourself, and exit the bathroom. Your roommates cheer when you pull the wine from the fridge and wave it around like you just won gold at the wine-retrieving event. You make a fake speech as you pour, and slowly, the FOMO trickles away.

“Ugh,” Mor groans, locking her screen and tossing it to the foot of the couch. She takes a sip of her wine and sighs dramatically. “My cousin and Cassian will not stop texting me! They’re so annoying!”

“Texting you about what?” Gwyn asks, gulping down her wine. You think she might need to stop soon, but you don’t want to kill her birthday buzz.

“Their dumb party. They keep telling me we should come over. I already told them that we’re busy!”

You watch Gwyn hum. There’s an idea churning behind those bright eyes of hers, but you have no idea what. It’s no secret that she despises hockey and everything to do with it for some reason, but you don’t know the story. She doesn’t look like she’s ready to spill on that quite yet, but her eyes do light up with mischief.

“I hate hockey and I don’t want to go to their party, but wouldn’t it be fun to prank them?”

Prank them? Coming from the girl who would never break a rule, not even something as silly as jaywalking.

“Prank them how?” You ask, sharing a confused look with Mor, who sits up on the couch and leans closer to your roommate.

“I don’t know,” Gwyn hiccups, and she looks funny with the over-dramatic way she masks on her innocence. “What if we stole that trophy they love so much?”

_________________________________________

Over Ice Taglist:

@saltedcoffeescotch @acourtofbatboydreams @mrsjna @velarisdusk @bionic-donut @tenshis-cake @eleganttravelercloud @lilah-asteria @serena05 @bwormie @soph1644 @house-husband-of-castlemurdock @tothestarsandwhateverend @topaz125 @judig92 @se7enteen--black-blog @thecraziestcrayon @cherry-cin @itsinherited @justafictionalnerd @bookishbroadwaybish @405rry @w0nderw0manly @bbykaixx @marina468 @taechvita @marigold-morelli @esahintzkanen @miakxn @ssmay123 @webvics

[anas-aspiration]

HEY can u do abby taking care of reader when theyre really sick?! thankss smmm

Abby x sick!reader

You stare at the clock—3:45 PM. Time drags, making your afternoon unbearable. Your body aches, weighed down by fever and exhaustion. The floor around your bed is littered with crumpled tissues and discarded Vitamin D packets, proof of the cold that caught up to you faster than expected. You knew something was going around, but you didn’t think it would take you out like this.

Outside your window, the world moves on without you. Pedestrians shuffle along the sidewalks, cars pass in a steady pattern, all oblivious to your misery. You sink deeper into your blankets, but even that turns against you—the sun pouring through the glass makes it feel like you’re burning alive. You groan, shifting uncomfortably just as you hear soft footsteps approaching from the kitchen.

Abby.

She enters with ease, balancing a mug of steaming tea and a fresh snack on your bedside table. Without hesitation, she leans down and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, only to pull back.

“Christ, baby, you’re burning up.” Her brows knit together out of concern.

You exhale a heavy sigh. “S’cause of the blankets,” you mumble. “And the sun.”

Without another word, you shove the covers off desperate for relief. The cool air kisses your fevered skin, and you savor it—for about two seconds. Then, as if on cue, a violent sneeze overtakes you, forcing you forward.

“Oh my god, I’m literally miserable,” you whine, voice thick with congestion.

Abby doesn’t laugh, doesn’t tease. She just shakes her head and hands you a tissue, her fingers brushing yours with a comforting warmth. “I know, I know. You’ll be alright, just keep resting,” she soothes. “I’m right here, okay? Whatever you need.”

You nod, too exhausted to respond properly, and blow your nose with enough force to shake the bed. Abby chuckles softly and then starts digging through your sheets, fishing around until she retrieves the TV remote. You watch as she flips through the channels, her presence a quiet reassurance.

Truthfully, there isn’t much she can do except be here, offering warmth, care, and distraction. And though she hates seeing you sick, there’s a part of her that secretly loves moments like these—moments where she can care for you in a way no one else can. It’s a quiet kind of pride, knowing she’s the only one who truly understands how to comfort you, the only one who would sit here for hours, making sure you have everything you need.

She doesn’t ask what you want to watch right away. Instead, she glances over, watching you with soft eyes as you slump deeper into your pillows. And as miserable as you feel, there’s an undeniable sense of peace in knowing that, no matter how awful this cold gets, Abby isn’t going anywhere.

A/n!! I’m actually sick righr now hahahah.. anyways hope everyone’s had a great valentines day! I also have updated my masterlist and added a section to show what i am working on right now

[wolfsong-the-bloody-beast]

@thunderboltfire, no, it's all good! I was about to make a follow-up post about this exact thing, because while I did want to make that joke post, as I do find some humour in it, I also think there's a lot of food for thought in that banter. Once again, that Crow damage is showing.

As you correctly point out, it's perfectly in line with his background. This comparison of seduction with a method of going for a kill, which he describes as, in simplified terms, "distract them, cut off their exists, (hurt them to) make them lose focus, and strike them down," is definitely a calculative, manipulative and cold-blooded set of steps to get the job done, which has little to do with actual romance. And it makes so much sense, even more so because Lucanis has seen Illario at work, which makes this comparison even more interesting, because charm and seduction is Illario's whole thing. The "isolate your target, distract them, and make sure they can't leave" part in particular definitely makes me think that's how a Crow would operate. It's miles away from what "normal" seduction looks like in more healthy circumstances.

You're also right that seduction and courtship are separate concepts, and not just in Lucanis' head, I think. They may go hand in hand, sure, but they're still two different things. Seduction is very much sexually charged, but that's not what he's attempting with Rook, because getting them in bed is absolutely not the endgame for him. As you say, what he's doing is courtship.

Lucanis talking about killing dragons and mages: "It's kind of like seduction."

Lucanis wooing Rook a while ago: *with wet eyes and shaking hands* "I've made a cake, I hope that's okay..."

[gojomyshayla]

(A Non-Sorcerer AU Gojo x Studious Reader Fanfic)

For more gojo content click masterlist

Summary :Gojo Satoru is the most annoying flirt in your university. You, the top student, have no time for distractions. Unfortunately, Gojo loves being your biggest distraction—until a bet and an accidental kiss change everything.

_________________________________________

The Walking Disaster Named Gojo Satoru

_____________________________

Your life was supposed to be simple.

Go to class. Take notes. Study hard. Get good grades. Graduate with honors.

It was a foolproof plan—until Gojo Satoru ruined it.

Tall, annoyingly handsome, and with an ego bigger than your entire textbook collection, Gojo was the human equivalent of a problem set you didn’t want to solve.

And the worst part? He was actually smart.

If he used even 1% of his brainpower, he’d be at the top with you. But no—he chose to waste it all on annoying you.

Like today.

You were peacefully studying in the library when—

“Hey, sweetheart.”

You sighed. “Go away, Satoru.”

“No can do.” He dramatically pulled out the chair across from you. “I missed you.”

You didn’t even look up. “We have class together every morning.”

“I know,” he said, propping his chin on his hand. “But a whole two hours without you? Agony.”

You slammed your book shut. “Shouldn’t you be studying?”

“Nah.” He stretched lazily. “I have you for that.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You what?”

“You’re smart. If I hang around you long enough, osmosis should do its thing.”

“That’s not how it works.”

He smirked. “Are you sure? Because I definitely feel smarter when I’m around you.”

You rolled your eyes. “You are insufferable.”

“You love me.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Your heart says otherwise.”

“I will throw this book at you.”

He grinned. “And I’d still call you beautiful.”

You groaned. Why was he like this?!

After weeks of Gojo-induced suffering, Geto (his best friend and your accidental therapist) finally made a suggestion.

“If he’s annoying you that much,” he said, “why don’t you make a bet?”

That’s how you found yourself standing in front of Gojo with an offer he couldn’t refuse.

“If you can go a whole week without flirting,” you said, “I’ll treat you to that expensive café you like.”

Gojo perked up. “Oh? And if I lose?”

“You leave me alone for the rest of the semester.”

A moment of silence. Then—

He smirked.

“Deal.”

Day 1:

You fully expected Gojo to crack within five minutes.

But when you walked into class, he just… nodded at you.

No wink. No comment. Not even a smirk.

Suspicious.

The whole day passed without a single cheesy pickup line. It was unsettling.

Day 2:

Still no flirting. But now? He looked miserable.

At lunch, he dramatically slumped over the table. “I feel like I’m dying.”

“You’re being dramatic,” Geto said.

Gojo groaned. “I just miss her.”

You raised an eyebrow. “I’m literally right here.”

“No, I mean…” He waved his hand vaguely. “I miss flirting with you.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re pathetic.”

He sighed. “I know.”

Day 3:

Gojo almost cracked.

“Hey, can you pass me that—” He stopped mid-sentence, visibly struggling.

You smirked. “That… what?”

He clenched his fists. “Nothing. Forget it.”

“You were about to say something flirty, weren’t you?”

“No!”

“You so were.”

He pouted. “This is torture.”

Day 5:

Gojo was a mess.

By the time you found him in the library, head down and suffering, you almost felt bad.

“Satoru,” you sighed. “You know you don’t have to keep doing this, right?”

He lifted his head. “But then I lose.”

“You look miserable.”

“I just—I like making you smile. I like making you roll your eyes at me. I like—” He hesitated. “—being around you.”

Your face felt hot.

“You’re ridiculous,” you muttered.

He smirked. “Do you miss me too?”

“…No.”

“You hesitated!”

You smacked him with your book. “Shut up.”

---

After a few days , things got more intense You and Gojo often bickered, but this? This was next level.

“You stole my pen!”

Gojo gasped dramatically. “How dare you accuse me of such a crime?!”

You pointed at the pen in his hand. “That’s my pen, you idiot.”

Gojo smirked. “Finders keepers.”

You lunged for it. “Give it back!”

“Make me.”

Bad idea.

Because the second you grabbed his wrist, he tripped. And in the worst, most cliché way possible—

He fell. Right on top of you.

Lips brushing.

Eyes wide.

Time stopped.

Gojo’s face turned red. “Uh—”

You pushed him off. “Y-YOU IDIOT!”

He blinked, still dazed. Then—

He grinned.

“Ohhh,” he drawled. “So that’s what you wanted?”

You threw a book at him.

---

Despite everything, Gojo never actually confessed.

So one day, you decided to take control.

“Satoru.”

He perked up. “Yeah?”

You took a deep breath. “If I asked you out right now, what would you say?”

His sunglasses nearly fell off his face.

He opened his mouth. Then closed it. Then opened it again.

“I—wha—HUH?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Yes or no?”

His brain short-circuited.

“YES—WAIT—ARE YOU SERIOUS?!”

You shrugged. “Maybe.”

He gasped. “You’re flirting with me?”

You smirked. “Guess I learned from the best.”

Gojo blinked. Then, suddenly, he grinned.

“Oh, you’re so in for it now.”

[marvelrivalsimagines]

I'll have two number 9s, a number 9 large, a number 6 with extra dip, a number 7, two number 45s, and a large soda.

Memes aside, could you do 🥰🫀🍒 for Storm, Luna Snow, and Black Widow?

Love your work and Happy Valntines Day!

Thanks for cooking so hard as well!

I feel like a drive through worker taking these orders /j Happy Valentines day to you too, thank you so much for the kind words :) Also this is pretty long so it's going under a read more :3

🥰 - How do they act when they have a crush?

When Natasha first realizes she actually has a crush on someone, she’s taken aback by her own emotions for a bit. From her time in the Red Room and even in her current work she’s gotten used to faking emotions and faking love as a means of getting what she needs for the mission. But this is real and rare and honestly a bit intimidating, and that actually manages to throw the capable spy off for a few days. 

Luckily with all of her training Natasha is able to hide her nerves and the fact that she’s now actually a bit flustered around you. Her mind has always been sharp but around you it becomes hard to focus. The normally composed Black Widow takes a few moments to think of her words. Her actions around you seem more stilted as opposed to her usual fast instincts. 

Natasha knows that with her training and skills she could probably seduce just about anyone, but that’s not the real her. It’s just an act to manipulate a target, and you’re not a target, you’re a person she cares deeply about. She wants you to be in love with the real her, not some act she puts on. So, while it’s hard not to turn on the charm around you, Natasha commits herself to pursuing you like a ‘normal’ person would. Or as close to normal as a super spy can get. 

🫀 - How do they comfort you when you’re upset? How do they like to be comforted? 

Natasha is extremely good at reading other people, to the point where she might know that you’re upset before you even realize it. Since she’s able to recognize your emotions so quickly, most likely before you want to talk about anything, she’ll start by doing something small for you. For example, she’ll make you your favorite drink and just silently leave it with you so you have some alone time to process your emotions. Once you are ready to talk to her or if you need some physical comfort, Natasha is ready for you with open arms. 

Sometimes Natasha has a rough day when memories of the Red Room resurface. It’s hard for her to push the the memories and thoughts out of her head once they appear, so Natasha really appreciates it when you can help distract her. Her favorite way of being comforted is laying down in your arms as you talk to her about whatever, it could literally just be you rambling about your day. It’s very grounding for her to just lay in your arms and let your warmth and voice drown out the memories. 

🍒 - How experienced are they? Do they have any special skills? (wink wink nudge nudge)

Natasha arguably has the most experience with romantic relationships and intimacy out of all of the rivals cast. In her decades as a super spy she seduced countless people for personal gain, but she has also had genuine flings and relationships with other heroes. Natasha absolutely knows what she’s doing with you, and that confidence is definitely noticeable when you two are together. If you feel intimidated by how much confidence she has, Nathasha is extremely understanding. She’s happy to take it slow with you, or help you gain more confidence together ;)

In terms of any special skills, Natasha has literal training in how to seduce people. End of headcannons, let your imagination carry you-

But seriously, with just a few weeks of dating Natasha is able to become an expert in just how to get you going. She can tell just from your body language where and how you prefer to be kissed, when you want her to be a bit rougher with you, or how to make an excited shiver run up your spine with just one touch. Of course that doesn’t stop her from asking you questions she already knows the answer to just to see you get flustered. And, of course, it’s never a good idea to lie to the super spy. 

🥰 - How do they act when they have a crush?

Luna is much more bold when she has a crush. While other people might try to keep their feelings secret and wait to see any signs that you like them back, once Luna knows that she really likes you she is going all in. She’s always followed her heart, and if her heart is telling her that she wants to be with you she’s not going to sit around and wait for something to happen. 

You get so much special treatment from her. You get the best seats to her shows, previews of her upcoming music, and if you're also a hero you get healing as soon as you have the tiniest scratch. 

When Luna has a crush on you you’re on her mind almost 24/7, and she’ll do her best to figure out ways to include you in whatever she’s doing. She has to pick up some groceries, want to get your shopping done together? You weren’t assigned to it but she’d feel so much safer if you join her on her next mission!

It’s probably pretty obvious to everyone around you that she likes you, some people might even assume that you’re both already together. If you’re seemingly oblivious to all of Luna’s flirting she honestly finds it endearing, especially if it’s clear that you like her back. 

🫀 - How do they comfort you when you’re upset? How do they like to be comforted? 

When Luna notices you’re upset, her goal is to try and make you smile or laugh. Even if it’s just a small smile, Luna will make a really bad joke to lift your spirits a little and hopefully break up any negative spiral you might be in. Of course if the situation is really serious, Luna can read the room and understand you may need to cry or just experience those negative emotions before you move on. In that case Luna will be there to give you a comforting hug, not wanting you to feel alone while you’re hurting.  

When Luna is upset, her night will instantly improve if you set up a little night in for the both of you. Luna’s most common source of frustration is just how many expectations are placed on her as a pop star and a hero. So to have you take some time to set up something small for her would make Luna feel so appreciated. Just some takeout and a movie together on the couch is all she needs to start to release some of the tension that was building up in her shoulders. Oh and of course some kisses from you are required too. 

🍒 - How experienced are they? Do they have any special skills? (wink wink nudge nudge)

Luna has a lot of admirers as an international pop star, but her main focus has always been on her two careers. That’s not to say that Luna is totally inexperienced, she’s been in a couple relationships before, but she’s probably less experienced than you might think an international pop star would be. But that doesn’t mean that Luna is shy, she’s actually really excited to experience anything that might be new with you. In the beginning of your relationship there’s definitely an intense honeymoon period where Luna just wants to do everything with you. 

With Luna’s ice powers, she’s a bit reckless with where she gives you hickeys. When you’re making out her kisses will trail high up on your neck where no reasonable collar would be able to cover the now brightly colored skin. After you lightly complain that you’re not going to be able to cover up the marks she gave you, she’s able to use her powers to make her hands personal ice packs to help soothe the bruises. It’s the best of both worlds, she gets to give you all the hickies she wants and gets to gently hold you as you cuddle afterwards. 

🥰 - How do they act when they have a crush?

Storm is also someone who’s going to pursue you more directly. She knows that time is a precious resource, and she’s never been the kind of person to just sit by. However, Storm also greatly respects your autonomy, she knows it’s not a given that you’ll like her back. So her flirting will be subtle at first as she tries to pick up on any hints that you may like her back. 

Storm likes giving you soft flirtatious touches. She’s a big fan of the classic “Let me fix your hair”, or sitting down very close next to you so you brush up against each other. Her touch is always light and gentle just in case it’s not wanted, but she has a warm smile on her face as she notices you subconsciously lean into her. 

If you’re a fellow hero Storm would love to train or exercise with you. She appreciates any one on one time she gets with you, but there’s just so much opportunity to flirtatiously tease you when you’re both working out together. Plus, Storm can’t help but show off her strength a bit in hopes of impressing you. While she does offer you practical advice, there are a lot of double entendres and charged touches. 

🫀 - How do they comfort you when you’re upset? How do they like to be comforted? 

Storm is a great listener and with her own variety of life experiences she gives really great advice if you’d like some. Storm's presence never feels judgemental, no matter what state you’re in or what you’re upset about. But Storm has a hard time sitting still when someone she cares about has a problem. She’ll always ask if there’s anything she can do for you after you’re done speaking. Even if you say no she’ll still try and do something small whether that's getting you a snack or cleaning your living space a bit; just anything she thinks will help alleviate any of your stress. 

Storm enjoys having a bit of space at first when she’s upset, she just needs some time to calm herself down alone because she can be easily irritated when she’s upset. Once she isn’t afraid of accidentally being snappy with you, she enjoys talking to you about whatever her problem is. Even if you don’t have any advice, Storm finds it useful to say her thoughts out loud because it helps her think of what she should do next. Storm also really appreciates it if you cuddle her while she talks/rants at you lol. 

🍒 - How experienced are they? Do they have any special skills? (wink wink nudge nudge)

Storm also has a good amount of experience with relationships and being intimate with people. While she’s confident in her skills, she doesn’t outwardly display that, and she especially never acts cocky about it. While she’s been with other people in the past, every intimate act the two of you do is new in Storm’s eyes as you’re a unique person. Storm is great at uplifting you if you ever feel nervous or insecure. Despite Storm being the Goddess, she frequently makes you feel like you’re being worshiped. 

If you’re into strong, dominant women (which lets be real if you’re dating Storm you are) Storm has plenty of experience with being in charge. She’s strong and gentle, never demeaning or rude, but a firm hand that guides you in all the right directions. Even when she’s being dominant and maybe a bit rough, Storm just has this presence that you can’t help but trust completely. You might get a little zap if you’re being a tease though. 

[cod-thoughts]

You call my bluff, how can I keep this up?

Word count: 1.2k

Relationships: implied GhostPrice

Tags: Very silly, inspired by art, Ghost is very down bad, they arent together yet

Part of a project that has a tiny explanation here. Keep reading under the cut!!

AN: This is a gift for the lovely @gomzdrawfr we barely know each other but i absolutely love your art it always brings me a lot of joy. This particular drawing hasnt left my mind since you've uploaded it and ive been dying to write for it so now i have. Happy valentines day! <33 Hopefully this doesnt freak you out my bad if it does 0_0

Simon Riley prided himself on discipline. A soldier’s mind was supposed to be sharp, focused, unwavering—trained to cut through distractions like a blade through fog.

Unfortunately, Ghost’s mind was none of those things at the moment.

Because right now, all he could think about was lifting his Captain.

It had started as a passing thought, one of those ridiculous notions that flit in and out of consciousness before being dismissed outright. But the problem—the real, pressing issue—was that he didn’t dismiss it. He let it linger. He let it take root.

And now? Now it was a full-blown fantasy.

Price wasn’t even doing anything particularly remarkable. He was just there, standing at the other end of the room, sleeves rolled up, a cigar hanging lazily between his fingers as he pored over mission reports. The bastard didn’t even realise what he was doing, didn’t realise how profoundly, cosmically annoying it was that he looked so unbothered. So effortlessly composed. So fucking liftable.

Ghost flexed his fingers absently. He was pretty sure he could do it. No, scratch that—he knew he could do it. He’d been working out more lately, upping his deadlifts and bench press, and Price wasn’t that much heavier than the weights he’d been throwing around. Maybe a bit more solid in the middle, sure, but Ghost wasn’t about to let that stop him.

His mind supplied a vivid image of how it might go: him stepping up behind Price, arms looping around his waist before hoisting him clean off the ground like he weighed nothing. He imagined the startled grunt Price would make, the way his cigar might tumble from his lips in sheer disbelief. Ghost would hold him there, suspended mid-air, feeling triumphant and smug as Price swore up a storm. Maybe even toss him over a shoulder for good measure.

A slow, creeping warmth spread through Ghost’s chest. Fuck, I really wanna do it.

And then the thought—the dangerous, irrational thought—took an even more deranged turn.

What if he just… buried his face in Price’s back? Just thunked his head against him like some oversized cat marking its territory? What if he just took a big inhale too? What if he just filled his lungs up with Price's intoxicating scent?

Ghost had seen videos of big cats rubbing against their handlers, knocking them around with sheer weight alone, and now the mental image of himself doing that to Price was seared into his mind. 

Would Price let him? Probably not. But maybe. If Ghost timed it right. If he made it quick enough, took advantage of Price’s soft spot for him.

Jesus Christ, what’s wrong with me?

He scrubbed a hand down his mask, barely resisting the urge to groan. He was losing his goddamn mind, and the worst part was, he wasn’t even ashamed of it. If anything, he was tempted.

Because it wasn’t just some unhinged urge—it was Price.

It was the way Price carried himself, all rough edges and commanding presence, but with the kind of warmth underneath that Ghost couldn’t look away from. It was the way he laughed, the rare deep rumble of it that made Ghost’s chest go tight. It was the way Price had a habit of standing too close, completely unaware of how much space he actually occupied in Ghost’s head.

It was the way Price had his little habits—how he’d run a hand down his beard when he was thinking, or the way he bounced when he was feeling restless, fingers gripping his vest. The way his accent thickened when he was particularly exasperated, or how his blue eyes sharpened when he was assessing a situation. Ghost could list a dozen things about the man that made his brain short-circuit, and not a single one of them had anything to do with the fact that Price was his superior officer.

He wasn’t just some bloke Ghost wanted to wrestle to the ground for fun. No, it was something worse, something worsebecause it came with an emotion Ghost didn’t quite have a name for but felt deep in his ribs whenever Price clapped a hand on his shoulder or called him ‘Simon.’

Ghost sighed and slouched further into his seat, arms crossed. Maybe if he just stopped looking at him—

“Yer makin’ that face again.”

Ghost stiffened, head snapping up. Price was looking at him now, one brow raised in amusement.

Shit.

“…What face?” Ghost asked, voice carefully neutral.

“The one where you’re plottin’ somethin’ daft.”

Ghost blinked. He was absolutely not making that face. He was making his normal, everyday blank expression. The same one that had struck fear into the hearts of enemy combatants for years. There was no fucking way Price could tell that, just moments ago, Ghost had been contemplating rubbing his head against him like an over-affectionate housecat. 

How he could even read Ghost's expression through the mask had always been a mystery. Price knew him too well, it should scare him but it doesn't, it never has. 

“I’m not plottin’ anything,” Ghost lied.

Price hummed, unconvinced. “Uh-huh.” He turned back to his reports but didn’t drop the smirk. “Whatever you say, Simon.”

Ghost exhaled slowly. Disaster avoided.

And yet—and yet—

The urge still hadn’t left.

No, if anything, it had gotten worse. Because now, in the absence of fantasy, his brain had moved into problem-solving mode. Could he get away with it? Could he pull it off? If he were fast enough, if he caught Price off guard, maybe—

Ghost bit the inside of his cheek. Maybe he needed to accept that this was just who he was now. A man consumed by the overwhelming, irrational desire to manhandle his Captain and fucking nuzzle him. A lost cause.

A complete and total, lost cause that was actively fighting for its life as Price casually stretched, arms rolling back, giving Ghost a perfect view of his broad shoulders and back flexing under the fabric of his shirt.

Ghost’s jaw clenched. His hand curled into a fist.

Get. A. Fucking. Grip.

“Well, whatever it is, just make sure it doesn’t involve me having to clean up any of your messes.” Price’s voice snapped him back to the present.

Ghost barely processed the words. All he could focus on was the fact that, when Price shifted in his seat, his damn jacket rode up just slightly, exposing a sliver of his back, displaying all the little moles and freckles and those two distinct dimples in his lower back that look perfect for his fingers to dig into and oh, for fuck's sake.  

Ghost clenched his fists. 

He was going to lose it.

He was actually going to lose it.

He had to get out of here before he did something insane. Like follow through on these godforsaken thoughts.

“Right,” Ghost muttered, pushing himself up from his chair a little too quickly, a little too stiffly. “Gotta… check on something.”

Price barely glanced up. “Mmhm.”

Ghost turned on his heel, marching toward the exit. He needed fresh air. He needed to not be in this room thinking about how catastrophically down bad he was.

As he reached the doorway, he heard Price’s voice again, this time tinged with unmistakable amusement.

“Oi, Ghost.”

Ghost paused but didn’t turn around.

“…If you’re thinkin’ about doin’ whatever it is you’re thinkin’ about doin’—” Price’s smirk was practically audible. “—I’d think about it first.”

Ghost didn’t respond. Just gritted his teeth and forced himself to step outside before he did something really stupid. He couldn’t move until the door shut behind him. He inhaled deeply, exhaled through his nose, and flexed his fingers at his sides.

Maybe, maybe he could let this ridiculous urge go. Maybe he could shove it back into the depths of his mind and act like a normal person.

…Or maybe, just maybe, he was gonna pick the perfect moment to put his theory to the test.

Because one day—one day—he was gonna lift that man.

And no force on earth was going to stop him.

[nameless-jamie]

Hiii, if you're not to busy would you write PA'S first day or so working for Jamie? I loved reading the interview and I'd love to see them getting to know each other, PA meeting the team and their first impression of her etc.

Thankssss ☺️

First Day

Masterlist

Jamie Tartt x fem! PA reader

A/N: Hi! Very good idea, here's a little view into Y/n's first day working with Jamie, time-wise it happens directly after The Interview.

TW: cursing

Y/N had worked for lots of difficult people before—divas, athletes, celebrities who thought the world revolved around them. But nothing quite prepared her for Jamie Tartt.

Not that he was difficult, necessarily. Just… a lot.

From the moment she stepped into Nelson Road for her first official day, Jamie was already waiting for her outside the locker room, arms crossed, looking far too pleased with himself.

“Oi, there she is. Thought you might change your mind, maybe chicken out,” he teased, falling into step beside her.

Y/N shot him a look. “Why? Because you’re so impossible to work with?”

“Nah.” Jamie grinned. “’Cause you’d be too busy thinkin’ about me, to get any work done, love.”

She let out a sharp laugh. “Right. Because that’s exactly what I was doing last night—thinking about my job.”

Jamie smirked, nudging her shoulder. “Don’t worry, love. You’ll get used to it.”

The locker room was loud—boots thudding against the benches, voices overlapping in easy banter. The second Y/N stepped inside, the energy shifted. It was her first day as Jamie's assistant and she knew nobody.

Dani Rojas was the first to react, practically bounding over. “New friend!”

Before she could respond, she was wrapped in a very enthusiastic hug.

“Dani, mate, let the girl breathe,” Isaac chuckled, pulling him off. He turned to Y/N with a grin. “Welcome to Richmond. You Jamie’s new babysitter?”

“Assistant, actually.” Y/N corrected.

“Same thing,” Colin muttered under his breath.

Jamie scoffed, draping an arm over her shoulder like they’d known each other forever. “She ain’t just anyone's assistant. She’s my personal assistant.”

“Poor thing,” Sam said with a sympathetic smile. “Do you need help escaping? Blink twice.”

Y/N smirked. “Don't worry, I signed up for this.”

Jamie turned to her, looking mock-offended. “You sayin’ workin’ for me’s a punishment?”

“I’m saying I’ll probably have my hands full,” she replied, arching a brow. “Which reminds me—you have a physio session in twenty minutes, followed by a media meeting.”

Jamie made a face. “Borin', let's not do that, huh?”

Y/N patted his chest with a saccharine smile. “Too bad, Jamie. You'll definitely do it.”

The locker room erupted with laughter.

“I like her,” Isaac said.

“She’s gonna put him in his place,” Colin added.

Jamie rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide his smirk. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. Just jealous that you don't have an assistant. You bought a shite car you can't even drive, instead!"

If Jamie was testing her patience, he was doing a great job.

By noon, she’d already dealt with his half-mumbled excuses for skipping meetings, misplaced gym bag “I swear I left it right there, Y/N”, and at least three attempts to distract her with compliments.

“You know,” he mused as she checked his schedule on her tablet, “it’s kinda nice, havin’ someone look after me.”

She didn’t look up. “So nice that you’re actually listening to me now?”

Jamie grinned. “Don’t push it, babe.”

She glanced at him, unimpressed. “Jamie.”

“Y/N.”

“Physio. Now.”

He huffed but stood up, stretching exaggeratedly. “Alright, alright. But only ‘cause you asked so nicely.”

Y/N shook her head as he strolled off, smirking like he’d won something.

Yeah. This job was gonna be interesting.

By the time Y/N managed to physically usher Jamie into the physio room—because apparently, telling him wasn’t enough—she was already reconsidering all her life choices.

“I don’t get why I gotta do this every day,” Jamie whined, plopping down onto the treatment table like a sulking child.

Y/N crossed her arms. “Because you’re a professional athlete, and keeping your body in top condition is kind of your job.”

Jamie smirked, stretching out in an unnecessarily dramatic way. “You checkin’ out my body, love?”

Y/N exhaled slowly. “You exhaust me.”

“I grow on people,” he replied, grinning. “Like mold.”

Before she could fire back, a gruff voice interrupted.

“The fuck is goin’ on in here? Tartt, you're not allowed to bring girls in here remember?”

Roy Kent stood in the doorway, arms crossed, looking deeply unimpressed. His sharp gaze flickered from Jamie to Y/N.

Jamie perked up. “Oi, Coach, this is Y/N—me new personal assistant.”

Roy grunted. “Christ. Higgins really got you a fuckin’ babysitter?”

“Assistant,” Y/N corrected, offering her hand. “Nice to meet you, Coach Kent.”

Roy eyed her, then her outstretched hand, before finally shaking it. “Yeah, you’ll quit in about a week.”

“Come on, Give me at least two,” she deadpanned.

Jamie cackled. “See? She’s funny.”

Roy muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like fuckin’ hell before jerking a thumb toward Jamie. “Make sure this prick doesn’t fuck up his knee again.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Y/N said, sending Jamie a pointed look. “I’ve got him under control.”

Jamie just wiggled his eyebrows at her.

After dealing with Jamie’s endless complaints about stretching and Roy’s ever-present scowl, Y/N finally managed to get a moment to herself—only for approximately three seconds before she heard:

“Oi, love!”

Y/N turned to see Jamie jogging toward her, still sweaty from training, grinning like he had nothing better to do than annoy her.

“You do know I have a name, right?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, yeah, Y/N,” Jamie said, testing out the sound of it like he was deciding whether he liked it. Apparently, he did, because he nodded approvingly. “Just makin’ sure you weren’t bored without me.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” she said dryly. “Your to-do list is very entertaining.”

Jamie groaned. “You’re obsessed with that thing.”

“I have to be,” Y/N shot back. “Otherwise, you’d be wandering around like a lost puppy.”

Jamie grinned. “Ah, so you care about me.”

Before Y/N could argue, a voice interrupted.

“Well, well, well, if it ain’t the person tasked with keepin’ Jamie Tartt in line.”

Y/N turned to find Ted Lasso and Coach Beard standing nearby, both watching the interaction with interest.

Ted stuck out a hand, his usual sunny grin in place. “Ted Lasso. Pleasure to meet ya.”

“Y/N,” she said, shaking his hand. “And trust me, keeping Jamie in line is a full-time job.”

Ted chuckled. “Oh, I believe it.” He glanced at Jamie. “She givin’ you a hard time already, buddy?”

Jamie scoffed. “Nah, she loves bossin’ me around.”

Beard, who had been silently observing, finally spoke up. “Think she’s got her work cut out for her.”

Ted nodded. “Yep. You ever try to wrangle a raccoon on Red Bull? ‘Cause that’s about what you’re dealin’ with here.”

Y/N smirked. “Sounds about right.”

Jamie gasped, placing a hand over his chest. “I’m sittin’ right here, you lot.”

Ted patted his shoulder. “We know, buddy.”

After the team finished training, Y/N spent the afternoon reorganizing Jamie’s schedule, answering emails he had blatantly ignored for months, and figuring out how the hell she was supposed to manage someone who thrived on chaos.

She was typing up notes on her tablet when Jamie dropped into the seat next to her, stretching his legs out.

“Busy?” he asked, peeking over at her screen.

“Very.”

Jamie hummed, tilting his head. “You’re good at this, y’know.”

Y/N glanced at him, surprised. “At what?”

He gestured vaguely. “Bossin’ me around. Keepin’ up. Most people just get annoyed and then they quit.”

She smirked. “Oh, don’t worry. I’m very annoyed.”

Jamie grinned, nudging her knee with his. “Still here, though.”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her smile. “For now.”

Jamie winked. “You sure you'll last longer than a week?”

Y/N leaned in slightly. “I bet I’ll last longer than you think.”

Jamie’s smirk widened. “We’ll see, love.”

And with that, she realized something very important—

This job?

Yeah. It was gonna be interesting. Life-changing even.