#also the finger was always there and never missing!!!

[yooniivrse]

moving in | myg

summary. in which moving in together isn't as simple as it seems, but no task is herculean with yoongi by your side

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre: established relationship au, angst if you read this with a magnifying glass

word count: 3k

content: oc and yoongi finally move in together / yoongi is the sweetest but oc also wants to kick is ass half the time

warnings: none :3

notes: i'm back from my break, did you guys miss me :> this was inspired by an ask by an anon which you can find here (tysm anon ur amazing). likes, reblogs, comments and feedback is always so so appreciated. enjoy my loves!

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main masterlist

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Privacy was a luxury in Yoongi's dorm. You had known this from the moment you first started visiting him here—how his space, while technically his, was never truly his own. There was always a member walking past his bedroom door, the faint hum of conversations drifting in from the common area, or the occasional loud clang from the kitchen at midnight.

You never minded it too much—at least, that’s what you have always told yourself. But when Namjoon walks in unannounced for the third time this evening, catching you and Yoongi curled up on the bed, you let out an exaggerated groan.

“You guys ever knock?” you tease, though there is a tired edge to your voice.

Namjoon blinked, looking apologetic as he took a step back. “Oh—uh, my bad. Was just looking for my headphones.”

Yoongi sighs next to you. He shifts his body, pulling his hand away from your waist to rest it under his head. “They’re in the studio, hyung,” he mutters without even opening his eyes.

Namjoon makes a face of realisation before nodding. “Rightt. Thanks, man.” He disappears just as quickly as he had entered, the door shutting behind him with a soft click.

You sigh, turning your body and draping your arm across your boyfriend. “You know, for a bunch of guys who's lived together for this long, you’d think knocking would come naturally.”

Yoongi chuckles, the sound deep and low. “You’d think.”

It's annoying when you can't even have the few days that Yoongi isn't burying himself with work to yourself completely. But though Yoongi agrees with your sentiment about his members, you know that you're roommates aren't much better.

You lean into his side, nestling yourself against his warmth as you put your thoughts to the side. His arm automatically drapes over your shoulders, his fingers absentmindedly playing with the hem of your sleeve. The silence that follows is comfortable, lulling you into a sense of ease—until Yoongi speaks again.

“You know,” he starts, voice lazy but thoughtful, “we’d have more privacy if we moved out together.”

The words send a jolt of awareness through you.

You stiffen slightly but don’t pull away, choosing instead to focus on the way his fingers trace slow circles against your wrist. He has mentioned this before—moving out. Not just for himself, but for the both of you. You have always brushed it off, too scared to give it serious thought.

“I dunno…” you mutter, eyes flickering up to the jagged ceiling.

The shift in the air was subtle, but you feel it immediately. Yoongi’s fingers still, and when you chance a glance up at him, you notice how his expression has hardened slightly, his jaw tight.

“What do you mean you don’t know?” His tone isn’t harsh—it never is when it comes to you—but there was something pointed about it.

“I mean…” You hesitate, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “I just—I haven’t really thought about it seriously, I guess.”

Yoongi doesn’t reply right away. He just watches you, his dark eyes scanning your face like he's trying to read between the lines. “You haven’t?”

You swallow. “I mean, I have, but—”

“But?”

There is no malice in his voice, but the weight of his gaze makes you squirm. You exhale slowly.

"But...I don't know."

You're awfully conscious of the way Yoongi's chest moves up and down with every breath; awfully conscious of how his heartbeat is lost to the sound of your own nervous thoughts.

"Oh."

You expect him to continue speaking, but he doesn't, instead choosing to let the silence hang in the air.

The last thing you want is to hurt him in any shape or form, but you know you'll sound stupid if you put your thoughts into words. This isn't the first time Yoongi has brought up the idea of moving out together, and you've managed to evade giving him an answer every time. But the quiet drags on, becoming unbearable with the second and you give in.

“Yoongi, it’s not that I don’t want to. I just…” You take a deep breath. “I don’t want to seem completely dependent on you.”

His eyebrows twitch. “What?”

“I mean, you already do so much for me,” you admit, fidgeting with the fabric of your hoodie. “I don’t want you thinking I can’t handle things on my own.”

Yoongi lets out a sharp breath, his head tilting slightly as he processes your words. “You think I’d care about that?”

You shrug, feeling silly. “I don’t know.”

Yoongi scoffs lightly, shaking his head. “You do realise I’m the one who keeps asking you to move in, right? It’s not like I feel obligated or something. I want you there.”

You bite your lip. “Yeah, but…”

His gaze flickers with something unreadable. “But what? If you genuinely don't like the idea, just tell me. I won't be offended.”

Yoongi would definitely be offended. Well, offended isn't the word he would use, but he'd be disappointed. It's a big deal for him to actually want to spend most of his days with someone who he knows he won't find himself constantly drained around.

But the last thing Yoongi wants is for you to be uncomfortable. Even if it stung a bit, he'd understand because it's you. He'd do anything for you.

You sigh. “I also don’t want you to get doxed or harassed because of me. What if someone spots us? What if it turns into a whole thing?”

Yoongi doesn't react right away. He simply watches you, his fingers tightening slightly around your wrist before he exhales. “You really think I’d let that stop me?”

You shift. “And besides,” you add quietly, “you’ve told me before that you need your own space—that people overstaying annoys you.” You glance up at him hesitantly. “What if I annoy you?”

Yoongi blinks. His lips part slightly, as if he's surprised you even had that thought. For a moment, he just stares at you.

“That’s different,” he said.

“How?”

“Because it’s you.”

Your breath hitches.

“I like having my own space,” he continues, voice softer now. “But I also like coming home to you. And yeah, people overstaying annoys me, but when have I ever wanted you to leave?”

You think back to all the times you've gotten up to leave his studio, only for him to pull you back down beside him. The times you’ve texted him that you were heading home from the dorms, only for him to insist you stay just a little longer.

Never.

The answer was never.

You open your mouth to respond, but before you can, the door swings open again.

This time, it's Taehyung.

“Oh, come on,” Yoongi groans, running his hand through his hair.

Taehyung blinks. “Uh—was just looking for my hoodie. My bad.”

As the door clicks shut once more, Yoongi turns back to you, deadpan. “If that’s not proof that we need to move out, I don’t know what is.”

You stare at him for a moment, then let out a breathy laugh.

“…Fine,” you mutter.

Yoongi’s eyes glint. “Fine?”

You sigh. “Fine. Let’s move out.”

A slow, satisfied smirk stretches across his lips. “Good,” he murmurs, leaning in slightly. His voice drops to a teasing whisper. “Because I already started looking at apartments.”

Your eyes widen. “Yoongi—”

He just grins, turning to fully wrap his hands around your figure.

────

Moving day comes a lot faster than you expect it to.

It's overwhelming, not just because of the sheer number of boxes but because of what those boxes mean. This isn’t just another visit to Yoongi’s place, nor is it a temporary stay.

This is different. Permanent.

And that scares you.

Yoongi, on the other hand, has been frustratingly calm about the whole thing.

He stands next to you in the elevator, hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie, looking completely at ease. Meanwhile, your heart pounds against your ribs as the floors tick past one by one. You fiddle with the keys in your hand, the ones Yoongi had given you just this morning.

“This is really happening, huh?” you murmur, half to yourself.

Yoongi glances down at you, a small smile tugging at his lips. “You sound surprised.”

You exhale. “I am.”

He tilts his head slightly, eyes twinkling with amusement. “You agreed to this, remember?”

“Yeah, but…” You hesitate. “It just feels surreal. Like, we’re actually moving in together. That’s a big deal.”

Yoongi hums in agreement but doesn’t seem nearly as fazed as you are. If anything, he looks… content. Maybe even excited, in his own quiet way.

The elevator doors ding open, revealing a long, well-lit hallway.

Yoongi leads the way, his stride casual, as if he has already memorised the path. When you finally reach the apartment door, he gestures towards the keys in your hand.

“Go on,” he says. “The first time opening the door should be yours.”

You glance at him, then at the door, suddenly feeling the weight of this moment settle over you.

Taking a breath, you slid the key into the lock and turned it. The mechanism clicks smoothly, the door creaking open to reveal your new home.

The first thing you notice is the vast emptiness that fills the walls.

The apartment itself is beautiful—modest yet modern, with floor-to-ceiling windows that bathe the space in natural light. The hardwood floors gleam under the afternoon sun, and the walls, still bare, seem to echo your movements as you step inside.

But there was nothing here. No furniture, no decorations, just an open space waiting to be filled.

You swallow, feeling oddly displaced. Everything is so...hollow. It's eerie.

Yoongi, again, seems unfazed. He steps past you, kicking off his shoes and letting out a satisfied sigh. “Not bad,” he muses, glancing around. “I forgot how much I liked empty spaces.”

You stare at him. “Are you serious? It’s so… bare.”

Yoongi smirks. “Exactly.”

You groan, setting your bag down. “Okay, well, you might be comfortable living like some kind of minimalist monk, but I need furniture.”

He chuckles, watching as you wander further into the apartment. You run your fingers along the smooth countertop of the kitchen island and sneak a peak into the—unfortunately empty—fridge, before making your way to the bedroom.

The bedroom is the emptiest of all.

The only thing in there is a single mattress on the floor, still wrapped in plastic. No bed frame, no pillows—just the sad, lonely mattress sitting in the middle of an otherwise vacant room.

You turn to Yoongi, unimpressed.

“Really?”

Yoongi grins. “It’s temporary.”

“You didn’t even get pillows?”

“I forgot.”

You sigh dramatically, placing your hands on your hips. “You know, for someone who planned this whole move, you’re really underprepared.”

Yoongi shrugs. “We’ll manage.”

You shake your head with a fond smile before wandering back into the main living space. It's strange—this apartment was supposed to be yours now, but it still feels so foreign. Like you're just visiting.

As if sensing your unease, Yoongi comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. “You’ll get used to it,” he murmurs.

You lean into him instinctively. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” His voice was warm, reassuring. “It’s just a space right now. We’ll make it a home.”

You exhale, feeling the tension in your chest loosen just a little.

For now, this is enough.

By the time the sun has set, exhaustion has settled deep into your bones. The day had been spent moving the essentials—clothes, toiletries, a few kitchen items—and while you haven’t even scratched the surface of fully furnishing the place, it already feels like you have done enough heavy lifting for a week.

Now, standing in the still near-empty bedroom, all you want is to curl up somewhere comfy—somewhere that wasn't just a mattress on the floor.

It looks even sadder in the dim light. No bed frame, no pillows—just a single, plastic-wrapped mattress in the middle of a room that feels far too spacious for what little was inside. The walls are bare, the windows uncovered, leaving the city lights to cast faint, shifting patterns against the walls.

Yoongi, as usual, seems unbothered. He tosses his phone onto the mattress, stretching his arms over his head as he looks around. “Not bad,” he muses.

You turned to him, unimpressed. “Not bad? Yoongi, we don’t even have blankets.”

“We have hoodies. Besides, you have me.”

“Oh my god.”

He smiles, clearly entertained by your misery. “We’ll go shopping tomorrow,” he reassures. “I was too busy making sure everything else got here today. I figured we could survive one night like this.”

You quirk an eyebrow at his words. “One night? You mean the whole week until the bed frame arrives?”

Yoongi’s smirk falters slightly as he purses his lips. “…Maybe.”

You groan dramatically, flopping down onto the mattress. The plastic crinkles beneath you, making the moment even more pathetic. “This is not how I imagined our first night living together,” you mutter.

Yoongi chuckles, toeing off his socks before sitting down next to you. “How did you imagine it?”

You turn your head to look at him. “I don’t know. Maybe something a little more… romantic? Cosy? With an actual bed?”

Yoongi hums, lying back beside you. “So, no romance in a bare room?”

“None,” you say firmly. “Absolutely zero.”

There was a beat of silence before Yoongi suddenly rolled over, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you flush against him.

“Yoongi—” you yelp in surprise, but he only buries his face into your neck, his breath warm against your skin.

“You said no romance,” he murmurs, voice laced with amusement. “So I’m just making sure you’re comfortable.”

You huff, feeling the faintest hint of a smile creeping onto your lips. His body is warm against yours, and despite the lack of pillows or blankets, there is a surprising sense of comfort in simply being here with him.

“You’re ridiculous,” you mutter.

Yoongi hums, pressing a lazy kiss to your shoulder. “And you’re complaining less now.”

You roll your eyes, though you don’t bother arguing. Because the truth is, despite everything—the bare room, the mattress on the floor, the emptiness surrounding you—you still feel at home.

And that has nothing to do with the apartment itself.

It has everything to do with him.

────

The next day, after waking up sore from sleeping on a mattress with no pillows, you and Yoongi ventured out to buy furniture.

It should have been an exciting experience—picking out the things that would turn your apartment into a home. But instead, it became clear within the first fifteen minutes that you and Yoongi have vastly different approaches to shopping.

Yoongi? He was practical. Minimalistic. The type to point at the first couch he saw and say, “That one’s fine,” with zero hesitation.

You, on the other hand, wanted something comfortable, something that felt lived-in before you had even sat on it.

Which was why you're currently standing in the middle of a showroom, arms crossed as you glare at the stiff-looking grey couch Yoongi is sitting on.

“You actually like this?” you ask incredulously.

Yoongi leans back slightly, patting the armrest. “It’s firm. Good back support.”

“It’s uncomfortable.”

“It’s a couch, not a cloud.”

“It should at least be soft enough to sit on for more than ten minutes without feeling like you’re in a waiting room.”

“You’re being dramatic.”

You scoff. “Says the man who literally naps more than anyone I know.” You gesture to the couch. “Can you actually see yourself sleeping on this?”

Yoongi pause. His lips press together like he wants to argue, but then he slowly looks down at the couch as if re-evaluating his choices.

You can see the exact moment he realises that you're right.

“…Maybe not,” he mutters.

You smirk. “That’s what I thought.”

With a victorious huff, you grab his hand and pull him toward the other section of the showroom, stopping in front of a much softer, cosier-looking couch. You plop down on it immediately, sinking into the cushions with a satisfied sigh.

Yoongi raises an eyebrow as he sits down next to you. “This is your dream couch?”

“Try lying down.”

Yoongi shoots you a look but does as you say, shifting until he is lying back against the cushions. You watch as his eyes flutter shut for a moment, his body visibly relaxing.

“…Okay,” he admits. “It’s nice.”

You grin. “Exactly.”

Yoongi cracks one eye open. “But it’s too big.”

You scoff. “It’s a normal-sized couch.”

“For a family of six.”

“For two people who want to be comfortable.”

Yoongi sighed, rubbing his temples like this was the hardest decision he has ever had to make. You know he's being dramatic on purpose, but you also know he doesn’t actually mind letting you win. He just likes to put up a fight first.

“Fine,” he mutters, sitting up. “We’ll get this one.”

You beam. “Thank you for admitting I was right. I know, I know, I'm so amazing.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes, unable to fight the smile on his face, but doesn’t argue.

Furniture shopping continues in much the same way. You bicker over dining tables (Yoongi wanted a small one, and you wanted a bigger one “for guests,” which made him scoff because, in his words, “What guests?”). You argue over rugs (“Why do we need one?” “Because it makes the space feel cosy, Yoongi!”).

But despite the back-and-forth, it wasn’t frustrating. If anything, it was fun.

By the end of the day, after picking out a bed frame, a coffee table, and a bookshelf you have absolutely no room for but insist on getting anyway, you both collapse onto one of the display beds.

“We should’ve just bought a fully furnished place,” Yoongi mumbles, staring at the ceiling.

“And miss out on all these cute domestic moments? Never.”

Yoongi glances at you, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Cute, huh?” he murmurs.

You grin. “Very cute.”

Yoongi sighs dramatically but subtly reaches over, intertwining his fingers with yours.

And just like that, your new home was slowly coming together.

[vampzity]

ateez twitter links!

★ BONUS DAY: ATZ HYUNG LINE TWT LINKS ★

[ DISCLAIMER ]: the following links contain PORN which is only suitable for mature audiences!! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 18+!! all links contain hetero content! some dont have any sound :��)

[warnings]: porn… duh!, spanking, fingering, jacking off, unprotected sex, ejaculation, anything else i missed

⭐️: author’s favorite

[ KIM HONGJOONG ]

be a good bunny: hongjoong loved calling you his little bunny— especially when you were good for him. he’d come home from work, sit you on his lap and let you grind your swollen cunt away as his hands kneaded your ass. he’d praise you for your sweet moans, for when you ran your clit just perfectly against his sensitive tip. he’d smack you enough to leave his hand print so that you knew you belonged to him and only him.

mere distraction: sometimes working on a deadline takes a toll and t was even more frustrating when you had no inspiration. you always made it a chore to drop off his dinner, but he needed to let out his hardships. you ride him with such joy, feeling his cock press against your cervix as he plays with your ass. he smacks it, squeezes it, anything he can do to ease his stress.

[ PARK SEONGHWA ]

⭐️ pillow princess: seonghwa adores everything about you. from the way you walk, to the way your face flushes red whenever he compliments you. but sometimes you drive him so nuts that he’s desperate to tear you apart. he practically offers himself to you— lets you grind your pretty pussy against his face as he drags his tongue against your slick. he especially loves it most when you squeeze his head with your thighs as you’re begging to cum. and when you do? don’t expect him to stop. he’s doing this for his own pleasure as well.

slow and steady: he was always so sensual when it came to sex. he’d gently pump himself into you, allowing you to get used to his size as his tip grazed against your sweet spot, teasing it beyond capacity. as much as he loved cumming inside of you, he loved seeing it drop down your soft skin. how pretty your pussy looked as his cum ran down your folds rather than spilled out of you. he would make sure every inch of him was inside you, forcing you to take his lanky size.

[ JEONG YUNHO ]

⭐️ such a tight fit: you loved yunho’s hands. they were so big, so veiny, and he knew they were your weakness. he also knew how well they stretched you out. whenever you were good for him, he’d promise to play with you. his long fingers would pound at your sweet spot, curling inside of you as he was rough with you. he admired how swollen your pussy was from you struggling to take them in. and god, you were so wet. he’d run his pads against your clit, your cunt glistening as you squirted onto his palm. even when you cum he’d keep going, he didn’t care how sensitive you were. you were his toy after all, so he’d keep playing with you.

i promise i’ll listen: if you thought being bad was gonna help you get your way, you’ve be gravely mistaken. now here you lay, your poor clit being abused as yunho refuses to let you cum. he starts off slow, speeding up his pace until you’re begging for more. then he stops, leaving you a sopping wet mess. maybe next time you’ll learn to stay in your place hm?

[ KANG YEOSANG ]

good boy: yeosang loved submitting to you. he’d let you do anything you wanted if it meant he got to cum. you’d make him sit there in front of you and force him to hold himself up as you stroke his needy cock. it throbbed uncontrollably in your hands as you ordered him not to cum onto your face— you didn’t want to ruin your makeup! he’d practically fold everytime you called him a good boy, even sweet boy would do him in. he was just so desperate to please you.

⭐️ desperate dog: despite yeosang being the more submissive one in your relationship, he fucked you like he’d never get the chance to again. he was rough, sloppy, he was so desperate to cum inside of you.. or on you, he didn’t care. he just wanted to feel your walls squeezing around his aching cock as he rammed himself into you, tapping your sweet spot with his leaking tip.

back to valentine’s masterlist

a/n: some videos i found were WILDINNN like somebody call the coochie police…? but overall this was fun to write for! if you guys are interested in more stuff like this i wouldn’t mind doing more in the future! :3

taglist: @scarfac3 @h4untedgrl @rvereri @jjongibears @yyaurii @hwasddeongbyeoli @joonezra @potentialgay @dollywoo @losrpark @motherseonghwa23 @inniesfanblog @stephanieeeyang @galaxy4489 @nickgurl4life @fangirljas929 @desirehorizon @channiesluvrclub @katsukis1wife @unbel1ve4ble @nopension @bbdeongi @sojuxxi @bbykaixx @felixleftchickennugget

[toasttt11]

difficult

summary: having a boyfriend who can buy anything he wants makes it very difficult to buy presents for him

quinn hughes x reader

Dating Quinn Hughes meant always having the hardest time trying to buy him presents because what do you buy someone who has everything he wants.

For Valentine’s day this year she decided to do something a bit different and creative hoping he would like this more.

She set the square box that was wrapped in brown paper with a red bow on the counter and fixed the vase with flowers for Quinn.

Quinn got her a giant vase of flowers and left them on table for her to see them when she woke up this morning.

“Baby?” Quinn called out as he walked into their apartment after his morning skate and he took his shoes and jacket off.

“In here!” She called out softly biting her lip nervously.

“Hey you.” Quinn softly spoke smiling happily seeing her as he walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her resting his chin on her shoulder, “Who are these from?” Quinn asked looking confused at the pretty bouquet of flowers.

“For you.” She mumbled quietly fiddling with her fingers nervously.

“For me?” Quinn repeated softly sounding confused.

She turned around in his arms slowly nodding, “The red roses are for love and romance for Valentine’s day, Red tulips for eternal love, pink roses for affection and appreciation and white blooms are for adoration and given to someone meaningful to you.” She rambled out all the means of each flower in her bouquet having spent hours researching flowers and specifically chose each one.

Quinn’s face was soft listening to her, “You-”Quinn’s voice trembled with emotion and he shook his head cupping her face and pressing a long and passionate kiss to her lips, “I love you so much thank you.” Quinn mumbled emotionally. He’s never been given flowers and she not only gave him his first bouquet of flowers but picked flowers with specific meanings for him.

“I love you too my love.” She softly mumbled back sighing in relief that Quinn liked it as her hand played with the back of his hair.

“There’s one more thing.” She pulled back softly taking her hand out his hair making her bite back a whine missing her playing with his hair already.

She reached over grabbing the box not moving away as Quinn kept his arms wrapped around her.

She handed him the box and they shifted so he still had a one arm around her and she rested her head on his chest as he opens the box with one hand.

Quinn opened the box and pulled out a black crew neck and he immediately realized it was his crew neck from his favorite company that he gets his favorite crew necks from and it’s a new one because he’s worn his current one so much.

Quinn made a confused sound as she pointed to the sleeve and he picked up the sleeve and paused seeing something embroidered on the sleeve. A red heart with her initial. The embroidery was on the inside of the sleeve also exactly where he can feel his pulse from.

“This is adorable.” Quinn cooed seeing her nervous look, this is a perfect gift to him and he couldn’t wait to wear the crew neck and have a piece of her with him.

She sighed in relief smiling up at him and he leaned down pressing a kiss to her forehead, “Happy Valentine’s Day baby.” Quinn softly mumbled against her forehead.

[mapis-putellas]

𝑻𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆/𝑶.𝑩𝒂𝒕𝒍𝒍𝒆

Spanish is in italics <3

Ona sat on the edge of the bed, hands clasped tightly in her lap, her foot bouncing anxiously against the floor. You watched her from the doorway, arms crossed, doing your best to hide your amusement. You’d never seen her so nervous before -not before a match, not before press conferences, not even before meeting your friends. But now? Meeting your parents had her looking like she was about to face a firing squad.

“You look like you’re about to be sick,” you teased, stepping closer and brushing a hand through her hair.

Ona sighed dramatically, tilting her head up to look at you. “I think…maybe I am.”

You chuckled, leaning down to kiss her forehead. “They’re going to love you. There’s nothing to be nervous about.”

She groaned, letting her head fall backwards. “Not nervous. Scared.”

That made you laugh outright. “Scared? Why?”

Ona fixed you with a deadpan look. “Because your family is…Irish.”

You raised a brow. “And?”

Her hands flailed as she searched for the right words. “And! I…your English, I learn. Slow, but I learn. But them? I don’t know if…if I will understand.”

You bit your lip, doing your best not to smile too much. You knew this was a genuine fear for her. Your parents’ accents were thick, and their speech patterns could be difficult to follow, even for people who had grown up around them. But Ona had come a long way with her English, even if she didn’t always have confidence in it.

“They know you’re still learning,” you reassured her, kneeling so you were at her level, placing your hands on her thighs and squeezing softly. “They’re not going to care if you miss a few words.”

“But…what if they talk, and I…” She made a motion with her hands, mimicking something flying over her head.

You grinned as you stood, reaching for her hands. “Then I’ll translate.”

She groaned again, but she let you pull her up off the bed, exhaling deeply as she muttered something in Spanish under her breath.

“Come on,” you said, grabbing your keys and tucking them into your pocket before sticking out your hand and wiggling your fingers. “Let’s get this over with.”

*

The moment you walked into your parents’ house, you knew Ona was in trouble.

“Jaysus, it’s about time ye got here! I was startin’ to think ye’d gotten lost or somethin’!”

Ona stiffened beside you. You squeezed her hand, biting back a laugh at the look of sheer panic on her face. Your mum rounded the corner, wiping her hands on a tea towel before pulling you into a tight hug. She was barely finished with you before turning to Ona, who barely had time to prepare herself before being pulled into the same embrace.

“And you must be Ona,” your mum said warmly, hands resting on Ona’s shoulders as she gave her a once-over. “Lovely to finally meet ye, love. We’ve heard so much about ye.”

Ona smiled nervously, clearly trying to piece together the words. “Um…thank you?”

Your dad appeared in the doorway then, nodding in greeting. “Howya, love. Hope ye don’t mind a bit of madness. We’re not exactly a quiet bunch.”

Ona’s grip on your hand tightened.

You cleared your throat, stepping in before she had a full-on breakdown. “He’s just saying we’re loud.”

Ona nodded quickly. “Ah! Sí, sí, is okay. Loud is…nice.”

Your mum beamed. “Ah, isn’t she just the sweetest thing? Come in, love, we’ve got a nice dinner ready for ye both.”

Ona followed you into the house like she was heading toward impending doom.

Dinner was…an experience.

Your parents were nothing if not welcoming, but they were also incapable of slowing down their speech. Which meant that, for the majority of the meal, you had one hand on your fork and the other on Ona’s thigh, gently squeezing every time you needed to translate something.

“So tell me, love, how’s the football goin’?” your dad asked, cutting into his chicken. “Ye keepin’ our one in line?”

Ona blinked. She turned to you immediately, wide-eyed.

You coughed, setting down your fork. “He’s asking if football is going well. And if you keep me in line.”

Ona let out a small breath of relief before turning back to your dad. “Uh…football is…very good. And-“ She smirked slightly, eyes flicking to you. “I try keep in line, but is…hard.”

Your dad roared with laughter, clapping a hand against the table so hard it made Ona visibly startle in surprise. You squeezed her thigh apologetically in response. “Aye, she’s a handful, alright. Ye must have the patience of a saint!”

Ona looked at you in desperation.

You smiled tightly, intending to kill your father for his words later. “He’s saying I’m a handful.”

Ona grinned, nodding enthusiastically and completely ignoring the glare you send her way. “Yes. Mucho handful.”

“You’re supposed to be on my side.” You scoffed.

Ona placatingly patted the hand you still had on her thigh as she took a bite of her food, and you tightened your hand around the toned muscle in response, having every intention of getting her back for that later. And if the way Ona freckled cheeks flush a lovely shade of red was anything to go by, you knew she was fully ware of this fact.

Well, at least you were on the same page.

Your mum laughed, reaching for the mashed potatoes. “Ah, she’s grand. Now, tell me, love, do ye miss home much? I imagine Spain’s a lot warmer than here.”

Ona caught onto a couple of words, clearing her throat as she nodded. “Miss home, yes. Spain is…warmer, sí. But here is nice too.”

Your mum smiled, clearly pleased with the answer. “Aye, good girl.”

Ona turned to you again, confused, and you sighed before begrudgingly complying and leaning in. “She’s just saying good job.”

Ona nodded quickly. “Ah. Thank you.”

The conversation continued, with you acting as Ona’s personal translator whenever necessary. Which was, well, pretty often, actually, especially when your parents spoke over one another in their excitement.

At one point, your mother turned to her and asked, “So, love, d’ya get much time off or are ya always runnin’ about?”

Ona blinked, before she turned to you. “Translate.”

You tried very, very hard not to laugh, and you were only mildly successful as you were forced to set down the drink you were about to take a mouthful from. “She asked if you get much time off or if you’re always running around.”

Ona let out a soft oh before turning back to your mother. “Um…depende. Sometimes, yes, sometimes no.”

Your mother nodded approvingly. “Ah, so same as anythin’ really.”

Ona turned to you. “Again.”

“She said it’s the same with everything.”

Ona groaned quietly, rubbing her temples. “I need…the slowest English.”

Your father chuckled as he wiped his face with a napkin. “Ah, she’s grand. She’ll be fluent before ya know it.”

Ona didn’t even try to understand that one. She just looked at you with a look that said, help me, and you couldn’t help but grin as you squeeze her thigh again.

“He said you’re good.”

Ona seemed doubtful. “Too fast.” She looked down at her plate before sighing and dropping her hands.

Your dad winked at her. “You’ll catch up soon enough, pet.”

Ona stared, then turned to you once more.

You translated, and she groaned again, dropping her head onto your shoulder. “No puedo.”

“You can,” you assured her, pressing a kiss to her hair as you wrapped an arm around her waist and squeezed softly. “You’re doing great, baby.”

She glanced up at you. “Really?”

“I promise.” You assured.

Ona let out another long, dramatic sigh, before sitting up and turning to your mother. “You…speak slow, please?”

Your mother nodded seriously. “Of course, love.”

She lasted approximately two minutes before she was rambling at full speed again.

Ona shot you a look, and you just laughed.

“Welcome to the family, baby.” You placed a fond kiss to her forehead.

**

Tags:

@ceesimz @marysfics @girlgenius1111 @codiemarin @simp4panos @silentwolfsstuff @goldenempyrean @xxnaiaxx @liloandstitchstan @ktgoodmorning @chelseacult

[lovetaroandtaemin]

Team Building

Kwon Soonyoung x Reader

Word Count: 7,352

Genre: Smut, angst, fluff, some crack.

Rating: Explicit, MINORS DNI!

Summary: When Y/N and her annoying coworker Soonyoung are forced to share a hotel room during a business trip, tensions are high.

Content Warnings: Mentioned alcohol but everybody is sober during the smut, unprotected sex, oral (f recieving), multiple orgasms, dirty talk, creampie, soft dom!Hoshi, fingering in the break room, situationship, angst with a happy ending, this man is an idiot I'm sorry. If you think I missed a warning, please let me know!

A/N: This fic is part of the Secret Cupid event hosted by the incredible @ddeonghwa-s! This particular fic was written for Bambi, aka @soongyeopsal. I hope you like it!

If y'all want to read the other fics that were written for this event, the masterlist can be found here!

Happy reading, and happy Valentine's Day!

Taglist: @xomakara, @notyourjaem, @heechwe, @shadowkoo

Fic is under the cut.

Kwon Soonyoung was the bane of your existence. He had his charming moments, sure, and he always performed well at work, but he was also arrogant, loud, and just plain rude, especially to you. Every conversation that the two of you had, even if you were only talking to him because you needed to get work done, left you even more irritated with him than you were before. His answers were brief, his tone was sarcastic, and his lack of interest was evident in every word. However, you figured that you could deal with an annoying coworker. After all, you loved your job, and you knew that you wouldn’t be able to find something in your field that paid as well as your position at Carat Interactive.

As annoying as Soonyoung was, however, you also had to admit that he was incredibly attractive, despite his tendency to act like a douchebag whenever you had the displeasure of speaking to him. His eyes were a warm shade of brown that made you melt every time you looked into them, his smile gave you butterflies every time you saw it, and his lips looked so kissable. You almost wanted to put aside your hatred to find out just how good of a kisser he was. Almost.

If Soonyoung was being completely honest with himself, he wasn’t particularly fond of you either. He thought that you were far too pretentious and far too serious for your own good. Despite all of that, though, he still couldn’t help but think that you were absolutely beautiful. Every time he saw you in the office, he couldn’t help but stare, and he hated himself for it. That didn’t stop him from doing it, though.

One day, when your annoyance with Soonyoung was at an all-time high, Seungcheol, your boss, called a team meeting. It took longer than you wanted to admit for you to find the room, but eventually, you did. Then, when you walked through the door, the only empty seat in the boardroom was right next to Soonyoung, because of course it was. You really didn’t want to sit next to him, but your desire to avoid disrupting the meeting even more than you already had won out in the end. So, you quietly took a seat and prayed that Soonyoung would not speak to you. Of course, because the gods hated you, the moment he saw you, he asked, “You couldn’t find anywhere else to sit?”

“Look around. Do you see any other open spots?”

Seungcheol cleared his throat and asked, “(Y/N). Soonyoung. Is there a problem?”

“No, there isn’t,” you answered, “Apologies for the disruption.”

“Thank you. Now, onto the reason that I called this meeting,” Seungcheol began. “I’ve noticed several issues when it comes to cooperation and respect on this team. So, I have to ask. How are we going to get anything done if no one can work together?”

“Maybe if you didn’t hire pretentious idiots that don’t know what they’re doing, things would be easier,” Soonyoung muttered.

“That’s exactly what I’m talking about, Soonyoung. With that attitude, we’re never going to get anything done. That’s why, as manager, I’ve decided to organize a team retreat. Hopefully, some team building exercises in a fun new location will help you all see the importance of working together.”

You wanted to complain, citing upcoming deadlines and your concerns about the nature of the “team building exercises” that Seungcheol mentioned, but you knew better than to argue with your boss, especially when he was angry.

“Does anyone have any questions?”

Seokmin was the first to speak up, asking, “Will we be paid for attending this retreat?”

“Yes,” Seungcheol answered.

“How long will the retreat last?” someone else asked.

“We’ll be gone for a week. Please make any arrangements that need to be made for pet care or childcare by Saturday, since we’re leaving next Sunday,” your boss replied. “Are there any other questions?” The room fell silent, so Seungcheol added, “Very well. If something comes up, and you do need to speak to me about the retreat, just come and find me in my office. This meeting is adjourned; thank you for your time.”

With the surprise meeting officially over, everyone left the room in hopes of finishing their assigned tasks before clocking out for the day. As you sat down at your desk, however, you heard an irritatingly familiar voice ask, “So, are you looking forward to the retreat?”

“Not even a little,” you replied, not even looking up from your work. “Are you?”

“Oh, totally,” Soonyoung said, his voice laced with sarcasm. “What could be better than being stuck with ‘Cheol and his ‘team building exercises’ for an entire week? It’s gonna be the highlight of my year.”

You couldn’t help but laugh a little bit at Soonyoung’s comment before you said, “Oh, you’re so right. I can’t believe I didn’t even consider the excitement of spending a week locked in a room with our entire team doing trust falls and talking about our feelings!”

After a brief silence, Soonyoung said, “Damn, (Y/N), I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“I mean, you never make jokes at work. I kind of thought you didn’t know how to make jokes at all.”

“Well, I do. I also know how to be serious when it’s necessary, like when I’m at work.”

“You really need to loosen up sometimes,” Soonyoung commented, his growing frustration evident in his voice.

“I do loosen up, just not here.”

Soonyoung huffed and walked away, seemingly bored of talking to you. You wanted to tell yourself that you didn’t care about his indifference, but you found that a small part of you was disappointed that he’d walked away. Sure, he drove you insane, but you also missed his little comments when he wasn’t around. However, you knew that if you told him that, you’d never hear the end of it. So, you kept your confusing feelings to yourself.

The rest of the week passed with only a few minor arguments with Soonyoung, and before you knew it, you were driving to the hotel where you were supposed to be staying for the retreat. If you were being honest with yourself, you weren’t dreading the retreat as much as you did when you first found out about it. Sure, you weren’t thrilled to be stuck in a hotel with your coworkers for an extended period of time in an unfamiliar area, but you still wanted to be optimistic. After all, you were getting paid to be there, which meant that you basically had a week off from your actual job while still bringing in money. Plus, a small part of you hoped to meet an attractive guy to hook up with in your free time.

Your optimism was snuffed out like a flame when you got to the hotel. Due to a scheduling error, despite both of your requests to the contrary, you would be sharing a room with Soonyoung. You tried to talk to Seungcheol about the error, but he told you that there was nothing that he could do. So, while you weren’t happy about it, you decided that you would try to make the best of a bad situation.

When you got to your room, you found Soonyoung sitting on one of the beds and scrolling on his phone. Without even looking up at you, he said, “Before you say anything, just know that I’m not happy about this either.”

“I wasn’t planning on saying anything,” you retorted. “I just wanted to sit in the room. Is that ok with you?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“I don’t know, you tell me. You’re the one that gets mad at me every time we talk.”

“No, I don’t. I just get tired of your pretentious fucking attitude.”

“I’m not pretentious; I just don’t screw around at work. You might wanna take some notes.”

“Why, so I can be the most boring person in the office? I’ll pass.”

“Fuck this, I’m going out.”

“Bye!”

After you left the room, you wandered around for what felt like hours before you found your friends Wonwoo and Mingyu at the hotel’s bar. When they saw you, they cheered and invited you over with smiles on their faces and drinks in their hands. Once Wonwoo noticed the look of irritation on your face, however, his smile was replaced with a look of concern as he asked, “What’s wrong?”

“I’m sharing a room with Soonyoung,” you spat.

“Are you serious?” Mingyu asked. “I thought you specifically asked to share with anyone but him.”

“I did. Seungcheol said there was an error when the trip was booked, and there’s nothing he can do. Which means I have to deal with him for a week, with no breaks.”

“I mean, this is a break, isn’t it?” Wonwoo asked.

“Yeah, I guess it is,” you replied.

As if on cue, you heard a voice behind you say, “Wonwoo! Mingyu! How are you guys?”

“Hi, Soonyoung!” Mingyu said, a mischievous smile forming on his face. “Wonwoo and I were just leaving to get some rest. (Y/N) just got here, though. You two should hang out!”

You gave Mingyu a death glare, and Soonyoung said, “That’s ok. I don’t think she wants to hang out with me.” If you didn’t know any better, you would have said that he sounded sad as he said it. That wouldn’t make any sense, though. Soonyoung hated you. Why would he be upset that you didn’t want to hang out with him?

You brushed off the thought and opened your mouth to speak, but before you could get the words out, Mingyu smiled again and said, “That’s not true! She’d love to spend some time with you. Isn’t that right, (Y/N)?”

In that moment, you felt like you couldn’t say no. So, you gritted your teeth and said, “That’s right. I don’t mind,” turning around to see Soonyoung’s face change from one of disappointment to one of what you could really only describe as excitement.

“Really? It’s ok if-”

“Really, Soonyoung,” you said, softening when you saw the change in his demeanor. “Why don’t you find us a spot to sit, and I’ll order some drinks.” He nodded and left to find a table, and you turned back to your friend and asked, “What the fuck was that?”

“Trust me, (Y/N),” Mingyu said. “I’ve known Soonyoung since high school. He’s an idiot, but he’s not an asshole. He just acts all weird with you because he likes you.”

“I don’t believe that for a second.”

“Watch how he acts after we leave. Then, when the two of you inevitably get drunk and hook up tonight, you can fall asleep afterward with the satisfaction that I was right.”

You rolled your eyes and said, “Sure, whatever. Bye.”

Mingyu and Wonwoo left, and you decided to order some sodas for you and Soonyoung. After all, you didn’t know what kind of alcohol he liked, and you really didn’t want to get drunk around him.

When you got back to the table with two glasses of cola in hand, Soonyoung smiled and said, “Thanks!”

“No problem. I didn’t know what kind of drink you’d want, so I just got sodas.”

“That’s ok. I don’t drink much, so I don’t really know either,” he responded with a laugh.

“Fair enough.”

There was an awkward silence for a few minutes before Soonyoung asked, “So, how was the drive here?”

“It could have been better. There was so much more traffic than I’m used to,” you responded with a soft laugh.

“Oh my god, I know! I guess Seungcheol picked a busy weekend or something. Listen, I love the guy, but his timing sucks when it comes to planning company events.”

You laughed a bit at Soonyoung’s comment, and some of the awkwardness in the air seemed to dissipate. You also noticed that there was a faint blush on his cheeks, but you decided not to comment on it. After all, you didn’t want the awkwardness to come back.

When Soonyoung heard your laugh, he was certain that it was the most beautiful sound that he’d ever heard. Sure, he still thought that you were far too serious at work, but actually interacting with you outside of the office made him start to reconsider the way he felt about you. He realized that he liked you a lot, and for a brief moment, he thought about asking you to continue the party in your room. He decided against it, however, not wanting to make you uncomfortable or come on too strongly.

As the night went on, you found yourself really enjoying Soonyoung’s company. He was one of the funniest people you’d talked to in a long time, he actually paid attention when you spoke, and he didn’t make a single rude comment the entire time you sat with him, still drinking sodas because neither of you wanted alcohol. You started to wonder what was different, since you’d been alone with him before, but you decided not to think about it too much. After all, there were far more interesting things to think about.

Whether it was the desperation that came from the dry spell you’d found yourself in for the past several months, the way Soonyoung looked at you as you told some story about a girls’ night gone wrong, or some strange combination of the two, you had no idea. All you knew was that you wanted Soonyoung, and you wanted him immediately.

After you finished your story, you looked at Soonyoung and asked, “Do you wanna go back to the room?”

With a smirk on his face that you knew would be the death of you, he asked, “Why? I thought we were having fun here.”

“Oh, I am,” you began, your nerves slowly starting to get the better of you. “I just thought we could have more fun back in the room.”

“What kind of fun?”

“That’s up to you.”

“Well, I have a few ideas.”

“I can’t wait to hear them.”

“When we get back to the room, I’d be happy to show you,” he said with a wink.

Before you knew it, you were paying for the drinks and walking back to your room with Soonyoung. When you got there, you had to wait for him to unlock the door, and it was torture. When the door finally opened, however, the frustration you were feeling shifted into something that you couldn’t quite name.

Soonyoung pinned you to the door the moment it was shut again, his lips meeting yours with a passion that could only be described as animalistic. As his lips moved against yours, a soft moan left your mouth, and he took that as an opportunity to deepen the kiss.

Eventually, he pulled away to let you breathe, and the only thing you could think to say was, “Wow.”

“Already so flustered you can’t even speak? You’re so cute,” Soonyoung commented with a soft laugh.

A soft whine slipped out in response, and you said, “Please do something.”

“What do you want me to do, baby?”

“Want you to touch me.”

“Where?”

“Anywhere. Just, please,” you begged, desperate for anything beyond what you’d already been given.

Soonyoung pretended to think for a minute before he smiled at you and said, “Lie down on the bed for me, baby.”

You immediately did as you were told, and Soonyoung settled himself between your legs before pulling your skirt up and your panties down. Then, he started placing gentle kisses on your inner thigh, only biting occasionally. Every touch left you wanting more, and you could only take so much teasing. When it all got to be too much, you whined and said, “Please, just fuck me already!”

Soonyoung laughed against you and said, “Alright, princess.”

With no additional warning or teasing, Soonyoung slowly licked a stripe up your pussy. A loud moan left your mouth at the sudden stimulation, and it was all you could do to stay still as he continued to eat you out there was nothing in the world that he wanted to do more.

Each time he moaned against you, shockwaves of pleasure went through your body, and you knew that you probably wouldn’t last long. You wanted to be embarrassed, since your annoying coworker was the reason you were so turned on, but you really couldn’t bring yourself to care. After all, Soonyoung was already better at pleasing you than any other man you’d been with before him.

“Fuck, feels so good,” you moaned, tangling your hands in his hair. Soonyoung didn’t respond verbally, but the way he started to move his tongue faster after you spoke told you that he heard you loud and clear.

It was only a matter of time before you started to feel your release building inside you. With a loud whine, you said, “’m close.” Soonyoung groaned against you one more time, and that was all it took for your orgasm to wash over you with a loud moan of his name. He continued his movements as you reached your high, stopping just before the pleasure would have turned into pain.

Once you caught your breath, you sat up and pulled Soonyoung into a kiss, and the fire of lust that you thought had been put out was lit once again. Within minutes, both of you had thrown your clothes on the floor, and Soonyoung was on top of you. After he lined himself up with your entrance, you kissed him again, and he took the opportunity to carefully push into you.

A loud moan left your mouth as Soonyoung entered you, and you held onto him for dear life while you adjusted to his size. He was much bigger than the men you’d previously been with, so it took longer for you to adjust than you would have expected. Not that you were complaining, of course.

Once you were ready, you gave Soonyoung the green light, and he slowly started moving. Every drag of his cock inside you had you seeing stars, and you swore he was better in bed than anyone else that you’d been with before him. As he increased the speed of his thrusts, however, you found that you weren’t thinking about anyone else anymore.

Soonyoung loved watching you fall apart underneath him, if he was being completely honest. Sure, he didn’t exactly plan to sleep with you when he first ran into you at the bar, but he definitely wasn’t complaining. You felt too good around him for him to complain, and he loved every moan and whine that left your lips as he pounded into you.

Just like when he’d gotten you off with his tongue, you knew pretty early on that you probably wouldn’t last long with Soonyoung’s cock inside of you. Still, you really didn’t care. All you cared about was the pleasure coursing through your veins with every movement.

“Fuck. You feel so good, baby. Like this pussy was made for me,” Soonyoung said in between groans. You were too fucked out to respond verbally, but the fact that you started moaning louder after he spoke told him that you heard him loud and clear.

“I’m close, baby. Where do you want it?”

“Inside, please, please, please,” you begged, desperate for Soonyoung to fill you.

Within seconds, Soonyoung reached his high, filling you with cum. Your release came not long after that, and you pulled him in for another kiss as you came undone around his cock. Eventually, you had to pull away for air, but the way he looked into your eyes as you came down from your high left butterflies in your stomach and a smile on your face.

After you both caught your breath, Soonyoung said, “Let’s get you cleaned up, baby,” and climbed off of you. Once you felt like you could move, you took his outstretched hand and stood up, pulling him into a hug. When he let go, you both moved to clean up and get dressed.

Once you were both dressed and comfortable again, you pulled Soonyoung into a hug and asked, “Can we share a bed tonight?”

“Of course, baby. Which one?”

“I don’t think it matters,” you answered with a laugh.

Soonyoung smiled and led you to the bed furthest from the door, and you immediately snuggled into his side. The bed was small, so you had to lie down pretty much on top of him to avoid falling off, but neither of you really minded.

While Soonyoung held you close, the two of you talked about your interests and lives outside of work, with each of you hoping to get to know the other better. The conversation didn’t last very long though, since both of you fell asleep in a matter of minutes, surprised by the events of the day but happy to end it in each other’s arms.

The next morning, you woke up on the floor in between the room’s two beds. At some point during the night, you rolled over too far and fell out of Soonyoung’s bed, much to your frustration and his amusement when he woke up and realized what had happened. Once he stopped laughing, however, he helped you up and asked, “Are you ok?”

“Yeah, I’m alright. I guess I fell out of bed while I was sleeping.”

“I noticed. You looked kind of cute on the floor,” he replied, starting to laugh again.

You pouted at his comment and said, “Why are you laughing at me?”

“I’m just laughing because of how adorable you are, sweetheart.”

You started to smile when he called you cute again and pulled him into a hug. With a groan of frustration, you said, “I really don’t want to participate in whatever Seungcheol has planned for today.”

“I know. I’m pretty sure I heard him mention trust falls when we were all in the lobby last night.”

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” you said, laughing at the cliché team building your boss apparently had planned.

“I wish I was. But I swear, I specifically heard him say the words ‘trust falls’ to Jeonghan.”

“Oh my god,” you groaned, dreading the event even more.

“Yeah, I’m not excited about it either. Look on the bright side, though. I’ll be right there with you the whole time, no matter how awkward and boring it gets.”

You smiled when you heard Soonyoung say that he’d be there with you, and without really thinking about it, you kissed him again. He deepened the kiss pretty much immediately, with his hands finding their way to your hair and pulling slightly. A soft moan left your lips, and he pulled away with a grin on his face before he said, “Later, baby.”

“That’s not fair! You started it!”

“Yes I did.”

You laughed at his boldness, and the two of you got ready together to face the day ahead. While you went about your morning routine, you occasionally noticed Soonyoung staring at you with a dopey grin on his face and something that you couldn’t quite identify in his eyes. The third time you caught him staring at you, you finally decided to just ask, “What are you looking at?”

“You. Why do you ask? Is it a problem?”

“No. I just wanna know what’s so interesting that I’ve caught you looking at me three different times now.”

“You are. Plus, you look really fucking sexy,” he replied with a wink.

You rolled your eyes, but your soft laugh at his answer betrayed your attempt at looking annoyed.

After your little exchange, you went back to getting ready, and when it was time to leave, you and Soonyoung left together to go to the convention center near your hotel. When you got there, several of your coworkers stared at the two of you, clearly perplexed as to how you two were interacting without an argument.

When you ran into Mingyu, he gave you a knowing smile and asked, “So, how was your night?”

“It was pretty good,” you admitted, looking at Soonyoung as you spoke. “Turns out we have more in common than we thought.”

“See?” Mingyu asked. “I told you to trust me.”

Before Soonyoung could ask what Mingyu meant, Wonwoo arrived and said, “So, (Y/N), I see you had an interesting night.”

You rolled your eyes at the comment and said, “Shut up.”

“Shit, we have to go!” Mingyu groaned. “Do you remember where Seungcheol we were doing the things?”

“No, I don’t,” you answered.

“I do,” Soonyoung said. “Follow me.”

You followed Soonyoung down one of the convention center’s many hallways until you stood in front of a door that was labeled, “Carat Interactive Team Building.” When you entered the room, you noticed a very large stage, complete with a microphone and a banner above it that said, “Trust Falls.” That was when you realized that Soonyoung really wasn’t kidding about what he’d overheard the night before, and you stifled a laugh. You didn’t find the situation funny anymore, however, when your boss took his place in front of the microphone with a look of what could only be described as rage on his face. With a deep sigh, he began, “Welcome to day one of the Carat Interactive team building retreat. We’re here today so that you all can build stronger bonds with your teammates and hopefully learn something new about what it really means to work together and trust each other.”

Soonyoung snickered at Seungcheol’s introduction and said, “We wouldn’t need to learn how to work together if you were better at coordinating.”

“What was that, Soonyoung?” Seungcheol asked, clearly tired of your coworker’s bullshit.

“I said that we wouldn’t need to learn how to work together if you were better at coordinating,” Soonyoung repeated loudly, unfazed by Seungcheol’s anger.

Seungcheol sighed again before he smiled and said, “You know what, thank you, Soonyoung. Thank you so much for volunteering to start our first activity of the day.”

“Hey, I didn’t-” Soonyoung began.

“I don’t care!” Seungcheol exclaimed, his previous rage replaced with unsettling excitement. “Our first team building exercise is trust falls. Each of you will take turns coming up onto this stage and sharing something about yourself that you’ve never told the rest of the team. After you share, you will turn so that your back is facing your teammates and fall backward, trusting your teammates to catch you. Is that clear?” After a series of vague expressions of affirmation and nods from your coworkers, your boss added, “Come on up, Soonyoung! Thank you so much for agreeing to go first.”

Hesitantly, Soonyoung joined Seungcheol on stage and asked, “Why are we doing this?”

“I just told you why. Now, share something that your teammates don’t know about you!” Seungcheol replied, the unsettling excitement in his voice making him sound like a game show host that had been possessed by a demon.

Seungcheol stepped out of the way, and with a sigh, Soonyoung stepped closer to the microphone as you and the rest of your coworkers stepped closer to the stage to catch him. After another deep breath, he said, “I really don’t want to be here right now,” his solemn demeanor making it seem like he was sharing his darkest secret with the group instead of just being a smartass.

You laughed at his “admission,” which earned you a glare from Seungcheol. He didn’t say anything, though, which was a huge relief.

As everyone else on your team took turns sharing secrets and falling, you realized that Seungcheol had intentionally picked you last. You should have been upset, but all you could think about was how grateful you were that you got to put off your part of the exercise for as long as possible.

When Seungcheol called your name, you made your way onto the stage, and he said, “What would you like to share with your teammates today?”

With a deep breath to calm your nerves, you said, “I worry too much about what other people think, and sometimes I think that no one actually likes me.”

You stepped forward, turned your back to your coworkers, and fell, hoping that someone would actually catch you. After you fell, you felt several sets of arms holding you above the ground. When your feet were back on the floor, you turned and realized that Soonyoung was one of the people that caught you. With the same smirk on his face that he had at the bar, he said, “I mean, I had a feeling that you would fall for me after last night, but this seems a bit excessive.”

You laughed at his comment and said, “Thank you.”

With all of the trust falls complete, Seungcheol dismissed you all from the auditorium by saying, “That’s all we had planned for today. Enjoy the rest of your day, everyone, but don’t do anything stupid. I’m looking at you, Soonyoung.”

The man in question laughed and reached his hand out to grab yours. You smiled at the small gesture, and he said, “So, what do you wanna do now?”

“I think I’d like to just go back to the room, if that’s ok.”

“Of course, baby.”

You and Soonyoung made your way back to the hotel room, and when you got there, you collapsed on your bed and sighed. Soonyoung laughed a bit at your actions, and you asked, “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, sweetheart. You’re just so cute.”

“Oh, shut up.”

“Hmmm, no thanks,” he responded with a laugh. You laughed along with him, and he took a seat on his bed. Once the laughter turned to silence, however, his demeanor grew serious, and he asked, “You know that I really do like you, right?”

“What?”

“I’m talking about what you said during the trust falls. You know that I really do like you, right?”

“Oh. Well, I guess I do now.”

“I mean it.”

“Thanks,” you said with a soft smile.

There was another silence before Soonyoung asked, “So, what do you wanna do?”

“Can we just talk?”

“Yeah, of course. Getting to know you better has been really nice.”

With that, the two of you talked about anything and everything that came to mind until it got too late for either of you to keep your eyes open. That was when you both went to sleep, each of you in your separate beds this time. You briefly considered asking if you could share a bed with Soonyoung again, but you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable or wake up on the floor again, so you decided against it.

The rest of the week went by with no other major events, and you couldn’t wait to finally go home after being stuck in an unfamiliar city with your coworkers for a week. The drive home was far more peaceful than you expected, with significantly less traffic than when you’d driven to the hotel at the start of the week. When you finally got home, the first thing you did was text Soonyoung.

Y/N: Hi. Just wanted to say I had a lot of fun with you this week.

Soonyoung: I had fun too. Any time you wanna hang out, just let me know.

Y/N: I will, thanks. See you at work tomorrow.

Soonyoung: See you tomorrow.

After that, you decided to enjoy the rest of your day by ordering a pizza from the restaurant near your apartment and watching your favorite movie for the thousandth time while you ate it. The time to just exist in your apartment and not worry about expectations from your boss or what your coworkers thought of you was badly needed, and at the end of the day, you went to bed feeling much better about the mandatory fun your boss had spent the past week subjecting you to.

When you went back to work the following Monday, you noticed that everyone in the office was far nicer to you than usual, except for Soonyoung. He wasn’t exactly rude to you, but he also didn’t talk to you nearly as much as he had when the two of you were away. You didn’t worry too much, though, assuming that he was just tired from the trip and wanted a bit of space.

After a few weeks of Soonyoung not talking to you unless it was absolutely necessary, however, you started to worry. Had you said or done something to upset him at some point while you were at the retreat? You had no idea, so you decided to try again to talk to him whenever you could get him alone.

The opportunity to ask Soonyoung what the hell was going on came when you least expected it. You’d gone into the office break room and noticed that he was the only person there. He saw you at the same time that you saw him, and he tried to leave the room. Before he could, though, you stood in front of the door and asked, “Why haven’t you been talking to me?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” he answered, clearly uncomfortable.

“Don’t play dumb with me,” you answered, sick of his shit already. “Since we got home, you’ve refused to talk to me unless you absolutely have to. Why?”

With a sigh, Soonyoung said, “I just got nervous around you after the stuff that happened during the retreat. Can I make it up to you?”

“How?”

“I’ll do whatever you want, baby,” he answered, with that god damn smirk forming on his face as he spoke. Honestly, it probably shouldn’t have had the effect on you that it did, especially when you considered how upset you were that he’d been avoiding you. When you looked into his eyes, however, you didn’t care that he’d upset you. All you could think about was how badly you wanted him.

So, you turned away from Soonyoung just long enough to lock the door before turning back to him and kissing him with everything you had. The intensity almost knocked him over, but he stood firm as he wrapped his arms around you. You moaned softly into the kiss, and Soonyoung pulled away just long enough to say, “Just tell me what you want, baby, and it’s yours.”

“Want you.”

“I kind of figured as much,” he teased. “Do you want my mouth, my fingers, or my cock, princess?”

“Fingers, please?”

“Your wish is my command, my darling,” he said as he shifted your panties to the side and gently inserted two fingers into you. You cried out at the feeling, moving your hips ever so slightly as he fucked you.

With another loud whine, you said, “Feels so good.”

“I know, baby. I love how much of a mess you are for me.”

His words made your head spin, and you started to buck your hips up to meet his hand again. With every movement, you felt yourself already heading toward your release. This time, you were slightly embarrassed, but your arousal overruled any judgement or embarrassment as you lost yourself in the way Soonyoung’s fingers felt inside of you.

“I’m close,” you said, desperate to reach your high.

Once he processed what you said, Soonyoung started to lightly kiss your neck, and his mouth on you was the exact push that you needed to go tumbling over the edge. He continued to gently fuck you through your release until you started to push his hand away, overwhelmed by the continued stimulation.

Once you came down from your high, you leaned closer to Soonyoung to kiss him, but he moved at the last second, sending you tumbling to the floor. After you caught your breath, you stood up and asked, “What the fuck?”

Soonyoung didn’t answer, though, because he was too busy unlocking the door and running out of the room, since you were no longer blocking him. Once you realized that he’d left, and you were alone in the break room, you started to sob uncontrollably, wondering what you’d done wrong for him to treat you like you were nothing to him unless he was fucking you.

Once you calmed down, you stood up, brushed yourself off, and walked out of the break room to go back to the work you’d left unfinished. When you got back to your desk, Wonwoo approached you and asked, “Are you ok? Mingyu said he heard sobs coming from the break room.”

The question almost made you cry again, but you managed to maintain your composure long enough to choke out, “I’m fine. It’s a long story. Can I tell you later?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Thanks for looking out for me.”

“That what friends are for,” he said with a smile.

Wonwoo walked away after that, and you went back to your work. For the most part, you didn’t have any additional problems, which you appreciated. The only real issue was the fact that you couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened with Soonyoung. Why had he been so cold toward you after what happened in the break room? You had no idea, so you tried to the best of your ability to not think about it. All of your thoughts were on Soonyoung once again, however, when he sent you a text after work.

Soonyoung: I’m sorry I left as quickly as I did. Seungcheol texted me to tell me to get back to work, and I panicked.

Y/N: Are you fucking serious? You couldn’t have said something before you left the room?

After that, you didn’t get a reply, so you decided to try again to avoid thinking about Soonyoung. Just like every other time you’d tried to purge unwanted thoughts from your head, however, thoughts of him and what he wanted from you plagued pretty much every waking moment. After weeks of struggling with what to do, you decided to go to the man that started it all for advice.

When you showed up at Mingyu’s apartment unannounced, your friend was surprised, to say the least. Regardless, he happily let you into his apartment and asked, “What’s up?”

“We need to talk about Soonyoung.”

“What do you mean?

“He won’t talk to me unless he wants to fuck.”

“That doesn’t sound like Soonyoung. He’s an idiot, sure, but he’s not an asshole.” To prove your point, you showed Mingyu your messaging history with Soonyoung. He was surprised to say the least, but he didn’t try to argue anymore. All he said was, “I’m so sorry. If I’d known he’d act that way, I would never have set you two up.”

“I’m not here for an apology. I’m here for advice. I want to ignore the way I feel about him, but I just can’t anymore.”

“Wait, what do you mean by ‘the way you feel about him?’”

You sighed and answered, “I think I want an actual relationship with him.”

Mingyu was shocked by your admission, but once he got over that, he said, “I think you should tell him that.”

“’Gyu, I love you, but are you crazy?”

“Please, just trust me on this.”

“Trusting you is what got me into this situation in the first place!”

“And trusting me is what’s going to get you out of it. I know Soonyoung. If you tell him, he’ll realize that he’s been acting like an idiot and fix things.”

With a sigh, you reluctantly said, “Ok. Thanks for the advice.”

“It’s no problem. You know I’ll always be here for you.”

With that, you pulled Mingyu into a hug, hoping that he was right about Soonyoung. As you left his apartment, you contemplated when you wanted to talk to him. After some careful consideration, you knew exactly when and how you wanted to confront him.

In the end, you decided that Valentine’s Day was the perfect time to go to Soonyoung’s apartment and confront him. You didn’t initially want the discussion to happen on the holiday, but when you realized that it was the next time you would be free, you knew that you had the perfect opportunity to solve the Soonyoung problem once and for all. Either he would confess that he wanted more, which was perfect for the holiday of love, or he would tell you he never wanted to see you again, which would be a perfect example of dark irony. Regardless of the outcome, you figured that there was no better time to get the answers that you so desperately wanted.

You knocked on Soonyoung’s door, and it took some time for him to answer it. When he opened the door and saw you standing in front of him, he tried to close the door. Before he could fully shut it, however, you yelled, “Can we talk, please?”

Hesitantly, Soonyoung opened the door again and asked, “What do you want?”

“I wanna know why you only talk to me when you’re horny.”

“What? What the fuck do you-”

“Every time you’ve called or texted me since we’ve been home from that stupid retreat that Seungcheol put together, it’s been because you wanted sex. I want to know why you think so little of me that you think that’s ok.”

“I don’t think that little of you.”

“Then why the fuck do you do it?”

With a deep sigh, he answered, “Just come inside, and we’ll talk.”

Reluctantly, you agreed, and he moved out of the doorway to let you in. Once you were in his apartment, he led you to his couch. As you sat down, you asked, “Why did we have to talk here?”

With a deep sigh, Soonyoung said, “So I could do this,” and kissed you.

You started to melt into the kiss, just like you always did when you were with him, but it only took a minute for you to snap out of it, pull away, and say, “I’m not having sex with you today, Soonyoung.”

“I know.”

You were quiet after that, confused by the way he was acting and irritated that you let the situation get as far as it did. After a few minutes lost in your thoughts, you said, “Just tell me what you want. If you just want someone to have sex with, tell me. If you want a relationship, tell me. Either way, I’ll be ok. I just can’t stand the games.”

It was in that moment that Soonyoung realized that he fucked up. With another deep sigh, he said, “I want a relationship with you. I’m sorry that I ever made you think otherwise. Can you forgive me?”

You softened when you noticed the tears forming in his eyes, and against your better judgement, you said, “Of course.”

Soonyoung smiled and pulled you into a hug after that, relieved that he hadn’t lost you completely. While he held you close, he said, “Does this mean what I think it means?” You nodded against him, and he let go of you just long enough to cup your face in his hands and say, “Thank you for giving me a chance.”

“Thank you for finally giving me a straight answer about what I am to you.”

With that same smirk on his face, he asked, “So, baby, how do you want to celebrate our first Valentine’s Day together?”

“I’m happy to celebrate however you want. As long as we’re spending time together, I’m fine with anything. I still don’t want to have sex tonight, though.”

“That’s perfectly fine, princess. I’m sorry about how I treated you. You must think I’m an idiot, huh?”

“Just a little, but you’re my idiot.”

With that, you relaxed into Soonyoung’s hold, content with the way your conversation went. You weren’t entirely sure that you trusted him yet, but you still wanted to give him a chance. After all, you liked the way that he made you feel now that you weren’t angry anymore.

Thank you for reading! I loved participating in this event. Once again, thank you to @ddeonghwa-s for the opportunity to participate! If you liked this, please like and reblog! If you wanna be tagged in future works, fill out the taglist form here! If you want to check out my other works, check out my main masterlist. If you want to see what else is in the works, you can check my upcoming works list! If none of that interests you, or there's something specific you want to see, feel free to send a request via my asks or dms!

Thank you again for reading, have a lovely Valentine's Day!

[alwaysobsessed777]

Ooo you could do one with Nika coming back to UConn the other day, maybe her gf is still in school (doesn’t have to be on the team) so they get to visit and go to the game together, just a fluffy one :)

BACK HOME - N.M.

Back on my shit....imma write my Nika fluff so enjoy

"I TOLD YOU!" Paige's voice echoed through the gym. Rolling my eyes, I chased after the ball.

"Next time....you're getting the ball yourself," throwing the ball a little harder than intended, it bounced off the blonde's head.

"BRO....WATCH THE BRAIDS!"

"Shut up, P," Azzi screamed from the bench, earning a stuck out tounge in return.

"Yeah, Twin. Shut up."

The voice stopped me in my tracks. Everyone's eyes landed on me. Slowly turning around, I was meet with the girl I had been missing for months.

Nika.

"Hey, baby," even before both words could fall from her lips, my arms wrapped around her. My head nuzzled itself into her neck. Words couldn't describe how much I've missed her.

"I see that I've been missed..." one of her hands gently rubbed my back, the other softly combing through my hair.

My head shot up, looking at the Croatian, "how...hie are you here?"

She pretended to think, "A plane...a car...anything really that moves would help me get here."

I chuckle, "shut up, smartass."

"you've missed it....i know it."

She wasn't wrong. I did miss it. I missed everything about her. Her smile, her eyes, her charm, her voice. You name it, I've missed it.

"Can we get going, bruh," the blonde's hand gripped onto my shoulder, but nothing adverted my attention from my girlfriend. "We have a game to warm up for...earth to y/n?"

"shut up, I'm with my girlfriend." Paige huffed, stomping off somewhere.

Nika separated us enough to intertwine our hands, walking is to the bench. Her waves of brown flowed over her shoulders, bouncing a little with each step.

"I wanna talk ...catch up on things," nervousness laced her voice. The small sound to her tone made her cute, the same voice she used to ask me out.

"that's sounds like an amazing idea," the seats being comfortable enough, we sat down. "I've missed you a lot, Nika."

"I've missed you too, y/n."

A silence fell between us, our eyes locking, before a comfortable laughter escaped both of us. The awkward tension being from not seeing each other for months, but you could feel it slowly dissipating.

"So...basketball season?"

I groaned, "don't get me started on it....like why are we good...but not like last year good."

"you don't have me..." she waited for my reaction, a smirk playing on her lips.

"you know....i know you're joking...but we truly need a get you back in a UConn jersey," laughing it out, Nika snickered.

"only if I could," a sadness contorted on her perfect features. I instantly felt bad.

"I'm sorry."

"hey...don't be. I'll eventually be able to get back on the court."

I nodded, "....are you excited to watch us tonight?"

"I'm excited to watch you!" Her hands clasped around my face, a smile stretched on her lips.

"I love you," she rested her forehead on mine, a small gesture that always made my heart flutter.

"I love you too," she leaned back, looking me straight in the eyes, "also...im wearing your jersey...i better see the best game ever from you."

"yes ma'am," snickering, her hands fell from my face.

She leaned in, capturing my lips in hers. They moved together as if they were a puzzle being pieced together. Her hands landing on my waist, pulling me closer to her. My hands worked towards the back of her neck. My fingers fiddling with her brown hair.

"uh...guy?" A voice broke is out of the small trance we were previously in. "Geno said stop sucking each others faces."

"Paige, shut up."

She held her hands up in surrender, "hey, don't kill the delivery guy."

"I think she said that completely wrong," I looked at the brunette beside me.

"she definitely did," she looked at me again with her brown doe eyes, my favorite sight, "I should let you get to practice...remember....play for me babe"

"I would never play for anyone else."

***********

A/n : sorry if this sucks.....I got the urge to write....and wrote half of this like asleep....don't ask how

[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

[https-murdock]

gentle - matt murdock

summary: the way matt handles you shows you both sides of the same coin.

word count: 882

warning: SMUT MDNI - 18+ only - p in v, no direct mention of birth control (wrap it!), size kink a lil, dub con if you reaaaally squint?, reader can’t talk cause she’s so fucked out, rough sex, choking is mentioned but not detailed, one good girl - and my fave! … pussy pronouns :)

note: i missed writing and got some inspo from the new ddba pics however i imagined season 1 matt here if that helps :) just a short little one for u this time. love all u horny babez

masterlist

“oh, fuck-“ you cry, tears threatening to spill down your flushed cheeks, feeling the way his hands dig into your skin so harshly.

the was always something in the way matt handles you. so rough, so menacing and deep in the way he fucks you. yet somehow he always found time to be gentle, found time to listen to your heart beat softly behind its cage.

“thaaaats it, sweetheart…” he’s coaxing everything out of you, eyes somehow trained across your skin slick with sweat, each body rubbing against each other in the sheer humidity of his bedroom.

the smell of blood that ran across his skin was almost a permanent reminder of the evenings he was used to. even matt could smell it on himself while he fucked you so deep he could see the bulge across your lower stomach. “j-jesus…” he’s fully aware of the way he’s muttering to himself, he knows he’s fucked you too dumb to get a response from you - just a mere vessel for him to get his anger out on.

“h- hngh,” you’re mumbling unearth his grip, he’s barely aware but he knows you’re in another state of bliss, a cocky grin spreading across his face with pride.

his hands are holding your legs - spread out but pressing against your chest, holding you as open as he can and listening to the lewd sounds your pussy makes just for him, the wet spot on the bed growing with time.

“listen to the way she’s taking me honey, she’s so gentle with me,” he speaks, his voice softer than his actions and he knows it, knows his harsh touch and soft voice are the reason your panties became see through with slick before he even touched you tonight. “wraps so tight around me.”

“matt—“ you’re gripping onto all the attention he’s giving you, cheeks heating up and holding colour. you’re begging for more of his touch even with his hands running over any inch of skin he could imagine. “what do you want, honey? what is it?” he’s asking you and listening for any type of response you can give - and the way your fingers find his and move his hand near your mouth tells him exactly what you want.

he knows you’re always there to bend and ply to however he needs it. something in the way your breath hitches at the sound of his footsteps near his door after he comes home. the way he sees every inch, every curve and notch of your body underneath the red lights of his city. it made him want to release everything he holds onto, to open his chest for you.

yet still there was something inside him, buried so deep he never showed it to the other bodies that landed in his bed also in search of an escape. he wanted to care for you, he wanted you to hear his gentle voice even if his actions didn’t show you the same.

“hmmm you want my fingers in your mouth? that what you want?” he’s asking, ears searching for the response he knows he’ll get from your body.

your heart racing, rapid breathing has him listening. the way your blood pulses around each vein and he hears the way the beatings getting faster in your chest - his fingers reach right back, feeling the way he can hook into your throat and feel his cocks often resting place.

his hips are fighting forward, the way you feel wrapped around him, both pussy and mouth gripping onto the skin it’s found.

“n, oh-shit, need you to fill me up so bad.” you finally find your words, and part of matt is proud of the way you speak so confidently asking for what you need from him.

your mouth closes around his calloused skin again, he relishes in the feeling of your warm, wet pussy gripping him so tight while he can feel exactly how wet his hand is becoming with your tongue wrapped around it. “want me to cum inside you?” he asks purely for his own pleasure, listening to the strangled moan you let out as his hand moves around your neck.

matt knows you’re nearly there with the way you clamp around him like a vice, the pulsing in your pussy a feeling he would happily die with.

his other hand moves from its bruising hold against your hip to rub tight, wet circles over your clit - your legs twitching slightly in overstimulation, heart working in overdrive. “good girl sweetheart, let go for me.”

he’s hardly able to believe that it’s his body warped so closely to yours in the moment, the way you tense up and let out a strangled scream in your bliss, his smile finding its way back into its face as he knows exactly who you’ll be reminded of when you ache tomorrow.

he lets go next, basking in the light and the condensation dripping down his windows - hips keeping their pace drilling into you, slowing down only once he knows each drop of him has been inside of you.

part of matt wants to stay here forever, with you underneath his warmth and protected - and yet he knows he’ll wake up in the morning and only one side of his bed will be warm.

— tags 🏷️

@lambmurdock @parker-murdock @silas-aeiou @blushingrn @audreyclimbs @pupmurdock @millennial-birkin @poeticbookwormcat

[rindreamery]

nishi's thoughts ─ mikage reo x reader ─ royal!au

“prince reo, we should not be doing this. i’m sure his majesty has noticed your absence by now—” yet, despite your complaints, you’re met with silence. 

reo’s footsteps never falter, his grip on your wrist firm, and pace still as brisk as ever as he leads you through the garden maze. the chatter and loud music playing from the ballroom starts to slowly fade into the distance, muffled by the tall hedges that surround the two of you, until all you can hear is the crunch of the grass underneath your feet. it’s now just you, him, and the silence of the early night. and, for a second, concern overwhelms your mind; now at the aspect of being caught alone, together, and the idea of potentially becoming lost. 

as if sensing another complaint, he throws you a quick look over his shoulder, looking quite blasé— unconcerned, indifferent, completely at-ease as opposed to you. he doesn’t smile at you, he doesn’t try to provide you with any verbal reassurance, but the subtle squeeze of his hand against your wrist is all you need. “you know, you worry way too much,” is all he says.

“because you make it difficult not to,” you shoot back, your lips curving into a faint frown. “if i must remind you, his majesty is throwing this ball for you. i’m sure the guests are wondering where you are, by now.”

he misses a beat in his steps, stiffening momentarily at the mention of him, but you don’t notice. 

“i don’t care about them,” reo’s response after comes rather quickly, and there’s a slight agitation in his voice as he speaks. tense, but in a way that’s so subdued that it almost flies over your head. almost, because you know better, and the inflection in his voice has you glancing at him through your peripheral. “this ball is my father’s way of searching for marriage prospects for me.”

you can almost see it; the way his mind clouds over in a dark fog at the idea, the word ringing like a haunting bell amidst the fog. the idea of an arranged marriage, you understand, has always been a touchy subject for him. obvious in the way he runs away from it, both metaphorically and literally, effectively dodging any and every opportunity given by his father. 

it’s also obvious in the way his fingers dig into your pulse point, fingers clenching around your wrist as marriage slips from his lips. you wince at the sensation, an elusive frown forming between your brows, but you don’t speak on it. instead, you rack your mind with things to say to him— words of comfort, maybe advice, or maybe a simple way of telling him that you’re there if he needs a shoulder to lean on. 

but, what could you say? you had never been in this situation before. so, all you could think of is, “oh.” 

“i don’t want to get married.” reo continues, honestly, voice distant and trailing off. you ignore the dull pang in your heart, that this isn’t about you, so you purse your lips and offer him your silence. “— to them.” he quickly adds, looking over at you as he says it.

your eyes meet his in the dark, only the moonlight illuminating the earnest glint in his eyes. your breath hitches at the idea, at the possible insinuation, behind his words. but you try not to get ahead of yourself, emptying your mind of fanciful delusions, and simply asking, “to them?”

“to them.” he simply repeats, and then he looks away. 

your gaze lingers on the side of his face for a moment, watching the way his hair billows in the gentle breeze that flows through the maze. it’s silent now; you choose not to add onto the conversation, leaving the uncertainty of his words to be lost in the maze behind you.

maybe not to them, but to you. a hopeful, distant thought persists in the back of your mind.

© rindreamery, 2025

note. i was supposed to post my situationship hcs or sae angst drabble but... i haven't had motivation to finish either of them. so have this draft that's been rotting here for a month 😞

[kabr0ztrousers]

Can we get another hucow with some minotaur/bull hybrid action?

(Heavy on the pet play, pretty please!!)

Loving this challenge series, keep up the good fight!

Hucows and minotaurs? Two of my favourite subjects (as I'm sure you've all noticed)

Kabr0z Writes episode 46: Another day in the fields

Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes anthology here!

This story loosely follows episode 34 - it's not required reading, but it is added context

CWs: enthusiastic consent; petplay; power imbalance; hucows; impregnation; heat cycle; forced creampie; breeding; belly-riding; cockwarming; public sex;

A/N: There's 16 asks in the box right now, so those of you who have submitted please don't lose faith! Also, do asks occasionally change their order in the inbox? I'm sure I'm seeing stuff in the middle of the pack I don't remember 😄 If things get a little whacky with the queue, I apologise

####################################

It's been a year since you joined the herd. Since then you'd settled in with the girls, enjoying your daily milking, lazing in the fields, chewing the cud. Your body had changed too, you weren't trim or fit when you joined, but you never lost the baby weight from your child Aaron put in you when you joined his herd. You'd given birth a few months ago, your daughter joining the herd with you, but now your empty womb wants more.

The barn doors opened and Aaron entered, working from one end of the barn to the other, attaching the machinery to cow after cow. The women's soft mooing filling the barn. You knew how he worked, always snaking the same path through the barn so nobody was ever missed. You'd made sure you'd be one of the first, you didn't want anyone getting to him first, after all.

Aaron's huge hands stroked your hair, his big eyes looking into yours. You stroked his muzzle, eyes scanning his face, the gold ring in his nose, his long curving horns, before sliding down past his broad chest to the noticeable bulge in his jeans.

You relaxed under his touch, nuzzling up to his chest, one hand sliding up his leg

"Do you want something, girl?" He kept stroking, slipping a finger into your mouth, which you gently sucked on "Have you been a good girl?"

You nodded, his finger still in your mouth as you rubbed his crotch through his jeans

"Prove it, girl, be a good girl for me"

You opened his jeans, tugging them down to his knees and exposing his sheath. The end of his cock is poking out and drooling a little precum, a strand running from his tip to the front of his boxers. You stuck out your tongue, licking the sweet fluid from him, feeling his cock twitch as you did. Rubbing his sheath, you took the end of his cock in your mouth

"That's it, girl, that's it" His cock is growing rapidly, getting as long as your forearm. You can only get the very end in your mouth as you tease it with your tongue, wrapping your huge tits around it to rub the shaft.

He was grunting more and more. His cock pops out of your mouth, splattering your face with sticky precum. You want to taste his cum so badly, to drink it down like wine, but there's always going to be more.

You lie back, grabbing one of his horns as you roll. He lets himself be dragged down to you, looming over you on his hands and knees, the tip of him parting the lips of your leaking pussy

"Someone's a needy girl, huh, does my favourite cow want a present?"

You mooed and nodded, pushing your hips up into him, feeling his cock almost penetrating you. His hand brushed your clit, making you whimper and twitch. He tasted his finger, eyes closing in satisfaction "mmm, tastes like you're ready"

He locked eyes with you as he eased himself in, filling you up as you bucked against him, fucking yourself with his cock. He moved slowly, enjoying the tight wetness of your cunt as you used it to jack him off. He hit your cervix, but you knew how to get him deeper. Your hands close around his horns and you wrap your legs around him, using the extra leverage to pull your pelvis up to his, slipping his cock deeper inside.

He sighed as he hilted in you, before starting to thrust like a piledriver. Long, slow, deliberate, he's taking his time, enjoying every inch as he pulls out, then forces himself back inside. He sped up his strokes, driving himself into you. A long moan escapes you as you cum around him, legs holding him in as you tense and squeeze his cock, kissing his muzzle as your blissed-out head spins. His hands are around your waist, he rolls over, the motion forcing your legs to release him as he starts using your cunt, lifting you halfway off him before forcing you back down, again and again.

Your moaning and mooing is attracting attention, all the other cow-women in the barn are looking, many getting themselves off with their fingers, some eating out their fellows as the barn descends into an orgy.

Aaron holds you down, his cock throbbing and pulsing. A familiar warmth fills you, spreading out in your cunt, finally quenching the fire of your needy womb as the thick cum fills every corner of it. He gets up, still holding you to him, twitching cock still impaling you as he finishes attaching pumps to the other cows. You hold on to him as he moves, arms wrapped around his neck, legs hitched over his hips. You're a big lady now, but he still bears your weight like he did when you first met.

When all the other women are hooked up, milk flowing from their tits into the huge collection vat at the end of the barn, he finally pulls out of you. The huge flared end of his cock makes a lewd slurp as it comes free, glistening with both of your juices.

You know you're pregnant after that

And if not, you'll just try again tomorrow

##################################

This one followed on from a previous episode, but I realised I never actually named Aaron in the body of that work, only the postscript!

Anyway, here's your regular reminder that you, yes you, can request basically anything you like as long as it's smut and I'll probably wind up making it! Limits are in the pinned, but beyond that it's all good! And don't feel shy, anon is anon, the worst I can do is not publish it, after all.

I don't shame, and I don't mock (mostly). I just write porn

(Disclaimer: I will shame and/or mock if requested)

[the-kr8tor]

inhales

For the holiday request, may I request Hobie getting a Lego set as a Valentines gift and he and R build it together? (Bonus points if it leads to playful chaos)

(Also, building a Lego set is so fucking hard when the pieces are so tiny 🥲)

- 😅

I hope you like it!!! I've never built a lego set before so I hope this was ok

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 1.3k

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader (except for clothing), established relationship, lovestruck! Hobie, fluff!

Navigation

After an eventful Valentine's day filled with stove mishaps and villain attacks, you and Hobie decided to lounge and relax on the shared bed with his valentine gift that he always wanted ever since he was a little punk— a lego set. And not just any lego set, a lego replica of his very own guitar. Minus the numerous well loved stickers of course, and the dents and scratches. That's a Hobie trademark that no one can replicate.

Hobie has carefully laid out every piece in different piles on the bed based on which part they belong to. Tiny multi colored blocks all taking up space on the bed as you watch him near the headboard while sipping on your nightly tea. You admire him in the yellow lamp of the room, his brows are knitted together in concentration, the tip of his tongue peeking in between his lips as he reads the booklet full of instructions. He's in his checkered pajamas that matches your own but in red instead of the bright baby blue you have on. And his band shirt fits loosely on his torso, giving you a peek of his lean stomach and chest.

“Can I help now?” You ask, gazing at him from the rim of your warm cup.

“Not yet, lovie, ‘m still figurin’ out all the parts.” He says, glancing at you briefly. Oh he's in too deep in the lego building brain.

You make a mental note of finding more obscure lego sets he might like. “Can't believe I'm losing you to a guitar made of plastic bricks.” Sighing like you're forlorn, a smile spreads across his lips as he puts down the manual.

“C’mere then.” Beckoning you over, he gestures for you to settle next to him, which you immediately place the mug down to crawl over the pieces to get to him at the other end of the bed. You hug him, face planted on his shoulder blade. “You're too good at gift givin’, lovie.”

You hum against his skin. “Says the one who got me rare vintage beads for my bracelets.” Nuzzling close, you tug your legs and fold it beside you as he pats the side of your thigh lovingly. “I'm gonna make you one by the way.”

Hobie tilts his head to you, light bouncing off his lip piercing. “Yeah? You gonna make it pretty for me?”

Lifting your head, you stare at him through your lashes as you smile back at him. “Only the prettiest.” You grasp at his chin gently, pulling him close for a kiss. He raises a playful brow but reciprocates the kiss wholeheartedly. His calloused fingers brush along your jaw, reluctantly pulling away with a resounding smack. Fluttering your eyes open, you suddenly remember something. “I have to take a picture of you!”

“In a bit.” He takes your chin in between his index and thumb, bringing you close to him until he's properly kissing you as if the last one wasn't proper enough for him. You still taste of chocolates and your herbal tea.

Pulling away with a longing sigh, his half lidded eyes makes you want to stay and push him down on the mattress. “I'll get the camera.” But alas, you haven't missed a single milestone that you haven't taken a picture of and even his bedroom eyes won't stop you. It did make you double back for another kiss as his fingers linger on your hip before you bolt to get the camera.

The bed dips and Hobie chuckles and watches you practically skip over to the shelf filled with your knick-knacks. His head tilts to the side, pressed atop his shoulder as he unabashedly oggles you.

You turn around and see him smile sweetly at you, eyes conveying only love. Without a second thought, you snap a picture of his smitten face, the flash lightens the room briefly as the camera whirrs and prints the polaroid. You no longer etch it in memory but now forever saved on paper. Now you have proof of the big bad punk being all lovey dovey. But this one is for your eyes only.

“Happy?” He asks, playfully and genuine at the same time. Asking if you're happy about today and happy that you've finally snapped a picture of him longing for you.

“Very happy, Hobie.” Your answer is for both questions.

Sauntering back to bed, your knees hit the mattress as he wraps his arm around your waist, palm casually sliding underneath your sleep shirt and feeling how warm he is against you. Taking the printed picture and shaking it briefly before slipping it in between your fingers, he gives you a lopsided grin for another picture. You beam at him, taking another photo of him with the piles of lego laid right next to him.

The photo develops and he reaches up to take this one, shaking it briefly as you admire the other one in your hand.

“I look mighty fit innit?” He smugly asks, tugging you close until you're kneeling on the bed. You hum in agreement, eyes glued on the first picture of him. “You've got the real thing right ‘ere, love.” Plucking the polaroid, you feign an offended gasp as you brace yourself on his shoulders. “Let's take another with you in it this time, yeah?” Pulling you close with his hand sliding up between your shoulder blades, he peppers your cheeks with kisses while you giggle.

Hobie takes the camera from your hands and shoots at an angle while he's kissing your cheek while you give a happy grin with your eyes closed and smiling. He doesn't check whether he captured the scene perfectly as he places it down on the bed together with the lego set to return to kissing you once again.

“What about building the guitar?” You say, in between his affectionate kisses.

Hobie leans slightly away, eying the pieces and back to you. Then he glances at the instruction manual again then over to your shining lips. He taps your thigh, taking your leg by holding onto the back of your knee gently and placing you on his lap. “Maybe later.”

You guess there won't be any lego building today. “I thought you were excited for it.” Leaning down, the pieces fall down next to him, sharp bits pushing on his side, arm unconsciously shielding you from harm.

“I am, just wanna hold you, love. The legos can wait.” His hand brushes along your back, then pushes you carefully down to meet with his waiting lips.

“No true nerd can ever say those words, Hobie. It's practically sacrilegious.” You joke against his soft lips as he kisses you slowly like he's savouring the moment.

Pulling away, his eyes narrow at you. “So no snoggin’ then? Who are you and what have you done to my lovie?”

Giggling, you pull him up with your hands on his jaw and smooching each smile lines on eyes and the side of his lips, teasing him completely. “I just thought…” kiss, “that the legos come first before the snogging would start.” Kiss.

“I know, I've got impulse issues.” Whispering, the clattering of plastic bricks takes his attention. You pull away to laugh against his clavicle. All the face eating has his previously neat pile all ruined, but at least the bricks are still on the bed.

“We ruined all your work!” Giggling, you don't make a move to lean away from him. Instead, you fully drop yourself atop him to hug his torso as best as you can in the position.

With one fond look from you while your chin is on top of his chest, Hobie decides to abandon the toy. For now at least.

“Floor time then.” His arms wrap around you, legs looping around your waist as your eyes widen.

“Hobie!” Your amused shriek echoes around the flat as he rolls down from the bed to the floor and drops down with you while he takes the brunt of the fall. All without breaking the kiss.

Banners by @/cafekitsune

[yanderelovebites]

I’m bored but I had a funny idea for a neglect story. Have a neglected batsis go through all the normal stuff, even Damian hurting her. Tim thinks he’s so much better as does Damian and Dick is sick. You are older than all of them and the only person who actually give af about you isn’t Alfred but Jason. He started to care AFTER he came back as you left the house for college seeing you also meant no bat.

The batfam for years for gets how old you’re getting except Jason… until one day finally getting their heads out the gutter that is Gotham for the election for the president… THEY FIND OUT YOURE RUNNING.

They are astounded and Jason is like “Are you telling me you didn’t pay attention to who our senator for the last year was?” Which makes Tim’s head turn. Jason is irritated and says “Are you telling me in the entirety of the past ten years none of you thought to check the damn news involving politics?”

Like literally they were so absorbed in crime, once they bring up politics they’d always turn the tv off. They never knew. And imagine their surprise when she wins and they’re like “how many episodes did we miss?”

I just find the whole scenario funny. I would do a full fanfic, at best a drabble, but the scenario is hilarious. Imagine you think you’re better and then the sibling you called useless just becomes president of your damn country as a big middle finger to you.

Also may I present Jason as her secret bodyguard. No one questions why she’s friends with red hood,at least her security doesn’t, as he once shot a sniper for her so they see him as making their job easier 🤣😂

[nightbutterfly09]

Valentines day 

(btw those who get flowers I recommend getting yourself invested in flower language, I probably spent most of my time on researching this lol) (also, I may be biased [is that surprising?] So Sae might get two scenarios sometime later.. we’ll see, if you want one for the other pls share your ideas and tell me about them!) Keep in mind: Valentine’s day is celebrated differently around the world. In this I made that quite obvious but it’s always written there.

Sae Itoshi:        

/small piece of info: he also gives gifts on Valentine’s day so it’s not entirely like the Japanese customs/

He was a busy man, and naturally the world was against you two spending time on this special occasion. He had another long training day and they didn't take no for an answer, not even if he made sure he was free today days before. 

By the time you heard the front door of your luxurious apartment open it was already 8pm. Everything you wanted to do went out in the trash.

There you were sitting on the barstool sipping on some warm tea on this chilly February night.

You were engrossed in your phone but weren't into it in particular. Your mind was everywhere except for the article you were reading.

Sae knew he f-ed up. Although he really couldn't do anything about it. It isn't in his hands when he is called in for training. He has the right to take a break but the sports industry just doesn't always work like that.

Not to mention, in the back of your mind, you always knew that you’d only come after work. Just because he loved you deeply it didn't mean he’d throw years of work out the window for love.

His arms tangled around your waist which made you startled. “Honestly, I already spoke to you a lot and you are reading such a stupid article?” “It's..not that stupid” 

“It is, how about next time you just ask me how it went?” The article was about Itoshi Sae’s newest match, all the tricky goals he made and also how he made the Spanish striker look even better. “I do, you always tell me you were outstanding as usual” you chuckled.

Even if you were a little salty at him, that wasn't an excuse enough to be mad at him. At least in your book.

“Happy Valentine's day mi vida.” He whispered into your ears and got your phone out of your grasp. 

“So far it's not so happy” but then he let go and gave you a small box. “Wait…” 

“Don't overthink it, I just want to make it up to you.. so I booked a flight to Paris for tomorrow and we can do whatever.” 

You were listening but his words seemed to fall into silence as you opened the box. It was a beautiful ring. A simple but pretty one, just as you like it. 

Suddenly the thought hit you like a truck. “Wait, this isn't an engagement right?!?” Your face flushed and seriously hoped it wasn't time for that yet.

“No” his voice let out a crack of a smile. “It's just a promise right, I found your fingers weirdly missing something nowadays.. So since we aren't in a position for marriage yet, I decided on this. You don't have to wear it all the time though. And the next time I give you a ring, it will be an engagement ring.” He pressed a passionate kiss onto your lips while intertwining hour fingers.

The jewel shone on your hand with a soft glow in the dark. “Now, please don't be disappointed.. I know how important today was for you” 

“It's fine mi amor” you giggle. “I don't care if you forget a birthday, an important day, or you are just busy, what matters is that you show your love for me in a way. We can celebrate Valentine’s day on the 15th too, who said it has to be on one precise day anyway?” 

He smirked and shook his head lightly. “I love you Y/N”

“And I love you, Sae” the words barely left your lips and he picked you up anc placed you on the counter kissing you with passion but also many apologies unsaid.

Your boyfriend was never good with words, but he didn't mind showing his true intentions in many ways others wouldn't even think of.

“Oh, I made chocolate..but I kind of ate them already..in misery” he couldn't help but let a coy smile escape. “It's the thought that counts, and you can make it again later.” He rolled his eyes.

Seishiro Nagi:

For you two mornings were already noon for most people. Sure you had a little less sun to look at but it wasn't like you could just stay up at night and play games together. 

As you awoke the sound of late snow hit your ears. It sounded like some serious snow storm in February. 

You leaned over your boyfriend and checked the time on your phone. 11:34am. That's still so early. Waking up this soon was pointless but it's not like you paid more attention to it. You furrowed your brows  due to the bright life emitted from your screen and saw that today was February 14th. That means only one thing.

Valentine’s day. As much as you enjoyed the quality time it was more or less a hassle. But also you made it your virtue to make homemade chocolates to Sei every 14th of February. Just for his sake.

Therefore you climbed out of the grasp of the tall figure and rushed to the kitchen after getting yourself into something cozier. 

Your sloth loved homemade chocolates. Technically he loved your chocolates. He said the creamy texture and the milky aftertaste were just like what he’d buy at the store just better. 

Sometimes you didn't understand much of his reasoning but regardless you went along with it. 

After an hour he woke up to the fresh smell of chocolate. He slowly walked to the kitchen and tilted his head in inquiry. “What are you doing?” “Happy Valentine's day love!” “Ah.. so that's the occasion, thank you.. you too” he yawned lazily.

The white haired man walked behind you and burrowed his face into your neck as he held onto you for support. His tired body weighing onto you. You giggled. “Sei~ your hair tickles!” You could help but laugh more as he kept nuzzling into you. 

“Wanna have a bite?” You smiled and raised a small heart shaped chocolate to his mouth. “Aah” he opened his mouth and lazily bit it. 

His usually tired face showed sparkling eyes and an expression that yearned for more. He never had much of a sweet tooth so when he first tasted your sweets he thought they’d be all sugary, but this was more suited to his tastes with a slight bitterness in it. 

He leaned down and kissed your lips softly. “Yummy” “Me or the chocolates” 

His lips twitched into a smirk and kissed you again turning you to face him finally. “Both” he said and connected your lips again. 

“Wanna play Valorant with me?” “I’m gonna die first aren't I?” You giggled but nodded anyway. The second you wrapped the sweets into a small bag and placed them in the fridge you went after him to boot your computer. 

Later it was time to play your favorite games, which were more on the chill side. Not only did you play animal crossing but also persuaded him to play Genshin Impact with you which he often refuses to. 

Not because he doesn't like it, it's more like because unless it's some farming for your favorite characters he wasn't really needed.

As the snow quieted down and the stars appeared in the night sky, the main part of your date just continued.

Nor you nor him has ever said this would be a date but don't you call a date a well spent quality time? Then you were doing the exact definition of a date. 

Sure anyone could start an argument over this but with your interests aligning so closely it wasn't a matter of uncertainty whether or not this would count as a date or not.

The rest of your days always went by the same way except that he did make sure to thank you for those pretty and tasty chocolates.

Michael Kaiser:     

/small piece of info: since he is german he also gives gifts on Valentine’s day so it’s not entirely like the Japanese customs/   

He was never into love, not to mention Valentine’s day. He also didn’t really understand why someone would love their partner more on a specific day instead of just showing it every day.

That was before he met you. He still thought you deserve to be loved every single second but he understood the value of such a special day. Well at least he kind of knew it’s important to you so he went along with it. 

He spent the entirety of last week thinking what he could do for you. His girl never asked for anything. As far as he knew you never even asked for much. What you did need he bought that anyway so he was in a pickle on what to do.

And there he was. Late with ideas. The awaited day came and he still hadn’t thought of anything. He really tried though. Suddenly he picked you up as you were making him chocolates. “Want to go somewhere?” You tilted your head a little. “The weather forecast said it’d rain soon.” 

“We can still go out, maybe just stay in the car?” You chuckled. “I know you’ve been stressed out because of today but come on, we can just stay at home watch a movie, chat, and I also tried out a new recipe for chocolates which means we can eat that.” “My nutritionist will murder me, but sure if that’s what you want” He mumbled and pulled you more into his embrace. 

“You can pick a movie” You shrug. “Any? Even horror?” He grinned. “Hey, I want to have a good time too.” ‘It’s not like you’d be focusing much on the screen Micha.’ 

People often say he’s as hard to read as understanding cave drawings but to you, Michael Kaiser’s unsaid words just glowed through his expressions. He could make a frowny face and you’d still be confident he was happy with something.

“Stop teasing.” You shook your head with a giggle. As soon as the chocolates were all done he got the first bite. “That’s so good Micha” A soft smile draped across his face. His loving gaze concentrated on ust the woman ahead. He wouldn’t admit, but he was falling deeper and deeper every second he spent with you.

A love he never experienced or saw just barged in on him. The locked iron door was kicked down without even a struggle. The secrets and hardships he never opened up about, all those deep cuts were exposed to you all of a sudden. He just found himself wanting to spend every existing minute with you. The love of his life. 

All those deep scars he tried burying oh so well just resurfaced. And you tried patching them up properly. As if an insecure little girl, who tried covering her pimples with layers upon layers of foundation but only making it worse. You were there and stopped his hands before grabbing the blender again.

There was something special about you. Something no woman could ever replace. Yes you had flaws, just like him. But to him that never meant less perfection. Only more things to work on.

Rin Itoshi:

/traditional Japanese styled valentine’s +reader unable to cook :)/ 

As he got home from his hour-long run the sudden aroma of burnt chocolate made its way to him. “I’m home-” His voice was full of concern but he still headed to the kitchen. “Welcome home Rin!!” You smiled. 

His gaze drifted to the counter. There was one batch of burnt chocolate in heart shapes and you were making another one now. “You don’t have to do this you know…” He inspected the burnt chocolates. Not only did they crumble at his touch but they also seemed genuinely uneatable. Not that he’d want to taste that. “I don’t want to hurt you but, I don’t think this is how they’re made.” 

You pouted and looked at him. “Hey I know I messed those up but this will be better!” You were stubborn. Once you set your mind to something you will go through with it regardless. He knew backing off wasn’t in the cards. “I’ll help you after I showered and changed.” 

“No need, I want to do this for you!” “Yeah, you either do it half-successfully and burn the kitchen down or I help you and they will be potentially digestible.”

“Stop being mean to me” you whined as he just walked out with a chuckle. After about 10 minutes he was back.

He wore a comfortable blue shirt with black sweatpants. His hair was all messy and his face had a smudge of toothpaste on it.

You giggled at his sight. “What?” He scoffed. “Lean down.” To your command he looked at you suspiciously but he obeyed. 

Doon the toothpaste was wiped down. You also made sure his hair is fine. “Have you even looked in the mirror?” “I did- but I was in a hurry” “aww you missed me that much?” “No, I was afraid you’d burn the kitchen down.” 

“See, you are mean again.” Regardless of his words he started helping you and making sure you two didn't leave the chocolate on the fire for long. 

The chocolates weren't only pretty this time but they were also so tasty. You filled some with jam that your grandma uses often. 

You were now sitting by the couch cuddling while some boring show was playing in front of you. That neither of you was interested in.

This is how a regular Valentine's day goes for Rin and you. Nothing much happening but what does, has lots of sentimental value. 

The sun slowly made it's way down the horizon as you two were still playing around by the window. 

You both needed nothing more. Just chocolates and the soft silence of your home.

Reo Mikage: 

/piece of info: he doesn’t really follow japanese customs/

The man knew your needs by heart. Not only would he make sure every February 14th is enjoyable for you but he would also make sure every time a new experience can be written into your diary that you always thought you kept well hidden from him. 

Reo did love you every day. He did show how much he treasured you each moment but he also knew that these special occasions have a sentimental value that he can't just ignore. So instead he tries making the most of it. Every single time.

He already had a hotel booked and you awoke in fresh bed sheets in a homey hotel. You slowly woke up and opened your eyes. Reo was lying next to you and he was just admiring you. “Why are you staring so much?” You couldn’t help but feel embarrassed. You just woke up and you probably looked like a giant mess. “Because you’re pretty. So pretty.” The purple haired man smirked. 

You were doing your makeup when he finally arrived from downstairs to order your breakfast to be this luxurious one. Not like you ever asked for such. “Happy Valentine’s Day, my queen.” Reo leaned down and kissed your lips. 

“Mmm, cherry.” “I just put that on.” You pretended to pout but then out of nowhere he handed you a giant bouquet of flowers. “Flowers for the pretty woman. My pretty woman.”  Pink carnations rose up from all the little white flowers. It was filled with pinks and deep purples with also little white flowers here and there. Peonies decorated the bouquet to give it a gentle and majestic look. The latter being there for the soft transition.

Lilies swayed on the edges as you held the soft purple paper it was wrapped in. There was a note to be seen with small white petals painted on it.

‘To my queen who I have to thank for a lot. You lit my world up thousands of times when I was at my worst. Thank you for always reminding me you are here less than in an arm’s reach. I want to show my utmost love to you every second of every day. I’ll never leave you and you cannot either. I love you Beautiful.'

Tears swelled up into your eyes as you read his confession. And that wasn’t even a florist’s handwriting. It was his very own. 

Not only does this man spend so much time and money on you he also makes sure it doesn’t all come from his wealth. Not only do his presents have sentimental value but also it shows that he cares. He cares for you deeply.

“Reo~” You whined trying to hold your tears back. “I just did my mascara too” You whined as you tried drying off your tears. Not that right now that was the most important. You just didn’t know what to do or say to him. 

It was as if words and letters and voices couldn’t convey your true feelings. As if this moment can’t possibly be written. Something ethereal. But also, something more than ethereal. That was his kind of love.

Meguru Bachira:

To say the least your boyfriend had a personality. The moment he woke up in your arms he turned and woke you up with sloppy kisses. “Morning Sunshine”

Your eyelids opened just slightly only to flinch at the amount of light that came through the window. Looks like spring was coming very soon as even the sunrays decided to interrupt your sweet dreams. “Morning Meguru~” your slightly crooked morning voice barely made it out. 

“Happy Valentine's day!!” He squealed excitedly and rolled on top of you.

After finally calming him and going about your day at one point he said he had to meet up with Isagi so you were left in the house all alone. The morning jitters also sparkled onto you as you felt more energized than ever.

But Meguru had that aura around him a lot. No matter how little sleep you got or how exhausted you were because of a long week, your boyfriend would always be there to brighten your day.

After about 4 hours he finally came back. You were making chocolate. It was half ready when the door opened. “So I know today is usually your turn and I have to give white day presents BUUT hear me out.” He grinned and gave you a bouquet of colorful flowers.

Many flowers brightened in a bunch of different colors and aesthetics. You saw red tulips, red, orange and white lilies as well as hydrangeas blooming in deep pinks. Not only was it mesmerizing to look at but the smell filled the room in minutes. 

“Thank you baby! I am so happy you thought of me” you grinned and leaned in to hug him. 

You loved how he was the partner to always confide in, he tried his best to make everyone's day, so when it came to his loved ones he didn't shy away at all. 

You put the flowers in a beautiful vase which you got from his mom last year. It was painted with flower veins strangling all over it in every direction.

Later you both wrapped the chocolates as well as little snacks and went down to the nearby park for a picnic. It has been tradition that on Valentine's day the both of you go downstairs with home cooked things and have fun.

The weather was still chilly and that's what made it more fun. It was solely you two in a friendly loneliness. Having alone time with someone was the best and you both understood that feeling well without having to speak up.

As the cold breeze hit your face you leaned more and more into Meguru’s warmth which not only warmed your body up but also his.

The gentle but earnest type of love that was so hard to find. A childlike wonder that you never grew out of.

You already knew Meguru could go overboard and he didn't miss saying “Happy Valentine's day” in every waking moment you passed each other in the house. With loud cheers and the pure happiness emitting from his mouth.

[thereoncewasagirlnamedjane]

constellations of vital phenomena.

PAIRING — bucky barnes x f!reader

CONTENTS — one-shot; fluff; angst; greek mythology elements (i took so many liberties with this so pls don’t come at me with your notes ☝🏻🤓 okay?); first-person narration/told from Eros’s pov; kind of a valentine’s day special but also not really? idk.

SUMMARY — For the first time ever, Eros’s arrow strikes the wrong target. And now, the god of love is faced with the task of unravelling the newly formed bond between Bucky Barnes and a woman the Fates have decided is not his soulmate—and yet.

W/C — ~3.7k

✩ masterlist ✩ library blog

I like to check up on you all every now and then. It’s how I learn, and there is still much to know about you mortals, even after all this time. 

And there’s just something extremely unsatisfying about leaving a story unread, isn’t there? Especially if it is a tale I helped set in motion. 

Cinque Terre is a lovely chaos of patterns and vivid colours, and under the azure sky with a cup of gelato in hand, I adjust my hat and pretend to be preoccupied with the sight of the sparkling sea, smiling to myself as I observe a pair of lovers standing nearby. 

The cheeky little things are supposed to be wrapping up a work trip, but before they leave this little slice of Mediterranean paradise, they pretend for a moment that they’re on a romantic getaway. 

They hold each other by the waist as they breathe in air rich with the mingling aromas of freshly baked focaccia and the briny sea, and anyone who looks upon them will know they are in love. 

I even check on the stories I know are doomed. Fret not, my human friend. Stories end, my dear, but love never does. It lingers, do you know that? 

Maybe you decide to keep it, perhaps you feel stronger that way, looking back on a tale cut short and choosing to carry it with you. 

Maybe you end up letting it go, maybe—though beautiful while it lasted—it’s holding you back from an even brighter future. It remains regardless. It settles back into the earth, floats into the sky, clings to the stars—sparkles almost like fairy dust in the sunlight. 

Shall I tell you about the first time I ever had to bring about an ending? 

It all began with that oblivious couple standing right over there, still holding each other as the beating heart of the Italian Riviera works its subtle magic on them. 

You and Bucky turn to each other and share a smile, sharing a tender kiss under the creamy orange light of the rapidly setting sun. 

It all began with a mistake, you see, because I never miss. 

It was a harsh lesson to learn, that even us gods aren’t infallible, but sometimes, mistakes are good. 

That’s what I like very much about you mortals. 

“I love you, Bucky.” 

The words were released upon a single shaky breath, as though you’d been holding them back for aeons. You stared up at him with watery eyes, looking both relieved of some immense burden and terrified at the same time. 

“I always have,” you admitted almost sheepishly, hopefully. 

And Bucky swore it was like he’d been shot through the heart, but instead of doubling over in pain, he couldn’t resist the smile that tugged at his lips. His shoulders lifted as he breathed in, like he was inhaling fresh air for the very first time. 

His cheeks were tinged pink in the chilly late winter air, but he didn’t even so much as shiver. In fact, he was warm right down to the tips of his fingers. 

Bucky had absolutely no choice but to say it back, because of course he did, and you smiled at him brighter than the sun. He decided right then and there that he would gladly blind himself in your light. 

His heart stuttered when you rushed forward to wrap your arms around him, and it didn’t take very long at all for his lips to find their way to yours. 

But unfortunately, heartache always began with apparent joy. 

Because something shifted in the atmosphere. A hush seemed to fall over New York as the first nearly frozen raindrop splashed onto the sidewalk. Another followed, then another, and then another, until the silence was soon filled with the staccato beat of impending rain. 

You and Bucky didn’t seem to care, however, still holding each other in a tight embrace, exchanging warm breaths and whispering love against touching lips. 

I, on the other hand, cast a wary glance up at the darkening heavens. A sense of urgency unfurled within me as the once-clear sky morphed into a brooding tapestry of greys and blacks, transforming the city streets into a mosaic of shimmering puddles. 

At first glance, it might have seemed like an ordinary downpour to anyone but the most discerning eye, but to me? 

I knew immediately that Zeus was angry. The sky momentarily brightened with a flash of lightning, a clap of thunder boomed loud enough to make even Barnes flinch. 

It could only mean one thing: I had just made a mistake of cosmic proportions. 

The nock of my arrow was still inexplicably sticking out of your chest (well, don’t worry, no one else could see it… wouldn’t that be morbid?), even though that arrow was most certainly not meant for you. 

But as Bucky cradled your face in his hands, touching his nose to yours, making you laugh despite being drenched in freezing rain, I found a stillness. A momentary peace. 

Because how could a love like that, so palpable to anyone with a heart and a soul, possibly be a mistake? 

“No, Eros,” Clotho murmured with finality when I arrived back in Olympus in a frenzy, not even looking up from her distaff and spindle. Her two sisters, Lachesis and Atropos, cackled amongst each other, completely unashamed that the subject of their mockery—spoiler alert, it was me—was still well within earshot. 

“You didn’t even take a moment to consider it!” I complained, but of course they wouldn’t. 

They already believed me to be an immature and naive god in comparison, and this proposal of mine—and the fact that my arrow was currently burrowed into the heart of the wrong person—only proved them right in their eyes. 

“Measures such as the one you’re suggesting—” Atropos, the eldest of the Fates, cut in. Her youngest sister was now once again far too busy with her life’s work, weaving the countless threads of life and death to pay any more attention to my concerns. “—must only be taken in the most dire of circumstances.” 

“The balance of the cosmos has already been upset, what circumstances could possibly be more dire?” I demanded.  

One side of the Earth was under a torrential rainstorm, and the other side was being ravaged by wildfires. Conflicts were breaking out in areas of longtime peace, and humanity was beginning to lose faith in itself. 

I wanted to scoff, to roll my eyes so hard they might as well have fallen right out of my skull, even as Atropos waved her abhorred shears so manically in my face. 

In reality, I knew their refusal was because the Fates were considered above us all as enforcers of the universe’s will. Who would dare be arrogant enough to question their judgment? Not even Zeus himself. 

“You already know all this, Eros,” Lachesis, the middle sister, whacked me on the head with one end of her measuring rod, making me flinch before she batted away Atropos’s menacing hand. “You are embarking on a fool’s errand. Once the Moirai have decided, you cannot change our minds.” 

“I see the business of love has made you soft, boy,” Atropos sneered, putting down her scissors and looping a thread of life around one of her bony witch-like fingers. She toyed and tugged at it carelessly, despite the small noise of dissent from a concentrating Clotho, as though it wasn’t the literal lifeline of an actual living, breathing creature. 

“And I see the business of death has inevitably made you more ghoul than goddess,” I snapped back, beyond indignant, momentarily forgetting that my mission was to convince the sisters, not anger them. Atropos did snarl at me in response, but she ultimately did not refute my statement. 

Because Hades, despite being the ruler of the dead, remained one of a kind. Despite the fact that he rarely ever saw the sun, surrounded by all that death and anguish, he remained ethereal and compassionate.

You humans sometimes think the devil of him, but you have been very misinformed. Most of his wrath is exclusively reserved for those who try to cheat death, and that’s where the difference lies. 

James Barnes never actively tries to cheat death, he just somehow does.

Many times, the underworld scrambled to prepare for his arrival. Finally! they'd exclaim, the Furies rubbing their hands together in barely contained glee, satisfied that even the infamous Winter Soldier couldn’t outrun his destiny for that much longer. 

And so many times, Hades seemed almost unbothered, maybe even content despite the chorus of disappointment that sounded around him, as the human known as Barnes once again prevailed. 

Once again, he lived—despite all the odds.  

I firmly believe that’s why the Fates loathed him so, and refused to even entertain my request; this mere mortal was always managing to twist up their carefully laid plans, taking their interpretation of nature’s law and throwing it back into their faces, proving them wrong time and time again. 

It seemed, however, that was precisely the way it was supposed to be. The sisters would watch as the stars realigned themselves, the state of the cosmos resetting, and they would just sigh and… start over. 

I’d never seen anything quite like it in all my years, and even though the Fates still treat me like a child, by your standards I have been around too many to count. 

But that’s why it was all the more frustrating to me that they wouldn’t simply… do it all again. They had already been wrong about his destiny so many times, what was one more? 

“You were given three fine choices, Eros,” Clotho clicked her tongue in displeasure at my reluctance, her brows furrowing when her threads began to knot together. She put down her spindle, trying to unravel them but to no avail. She could not weave any further. “Fix your foolish mistake. And make haste before your trepidation upsets the cosmos, and Zeus, any further.” 

Fine choices. As if that was at all adequate when it came to matters of the heart. Still, I turned away to leave them, to follow their orders as woven, silently fuming and resentful. 

If they were willing and able to rewrite one’s life and death with but a flick of their wrists because it was “meant to be”, then why not love? 

It loomed just as large, if you asked me, if not larger than all else. And just as life and death were inevitabilities for all creatures, divine or mortal, so am I. 

So is love. 

Despite his almost celebrity status back on Mount Olympus, up close and personal James Barnes seemed… quite ordinary. Just like every other mortal, he had two eyes, a nose, and a mouth. Nothing extraordinary there. 

I suppose the crop of short brown hair and the days old stubble growing along a sharp jaw did something for him, and those insanely blue eyes certainly weren’t terrible to look at— 

“So… she doesn’t actually love me, is what you’re saying?” Barnes glanced up at me, brows drawn together in displeasure and confusion, still digesting what I’d just told him. 

The woman he loved—a tenacious and adorably stubborn colleague turned confidante turned into something so much more—was accidentally made to fall in love. 

Unfortunately for him, while his love for you was true, you were never prophesied to love him back. 

“Well…” I faltered, suddenly realizing how harsh it all sounded, especially with you sitting right next to him in the dim light of his Brooklyn apartment. 

Listen, despite how I was treated back in Olympus, I’d been doing this a very long time. I’d learned, for the most part, that despite the resilience of you mortals, the lot of you still prefer to be spoken to with the utmost delicacy and consideration. 

It was why I decided to tell you both before pulling the arrow out of your chest and taking back the love you’d so passionately professed to him just days earlier. 

I thought it would have been kinder this way. 

But as I considered the look of undisguised anguish on both your faces, I came to the inevitable conclusion that I still had much to learn. 

“That is not true,” you protested, grasping at Bucky’s hand and tugging at his arm so he’d look at you. Your eyes were full of pleading, and he didn’t pull away although his fingers remained slack next to yours. “I loved you way before he came around! I just never had the courage to say anything.” 

Despite the very devastating nature of the situation, I couldn’t help asking. “Are you two not at all surprised by my existence?” 

“I’m a hundred and seven years old,” Bucky grumbled, as if that figure was somehow impressive. “I’ve seen more than my fair share of stranger things.”

“And you’re not the first god we’ve ever met,” you offered carefully. 

Preposterous, I wanted to scoff. As if Thor could ever compare. Instead, I swallowed my biting retort and returned to the subject at hand, “You may be right. My arrows, as powerful as they are, cannot create something that isn’t already there.” 

Love cannot be manifested; it cannot be borne out of absolutely nothing. It is borne out of two hearts beating as one, something of a higher power that I cannot adequately explain even as the god of love. 

“Then—” you began hopefully, but I put up a reluctant hand to silence you. 

“It does not change the fact that you… well, I’m sorry, but you are not James’s soulmate.” It was written in your destinies to remain apart, and there was nothing I could do to change it. 

To this day, that felt very wrong to say. I wholeheartedly believed my arrow was precisely where it was supposed to be, but the Fates didn’t respect me let alone trust me. How could I, a brash and comparatively inexperienced young god, possibly know better than nature itself? 

No one was going to rewrite fate just on my word alone. 

And Clotho was right; she had offered three fine choices. I had an absolute spread of not one, not two, but three potential soulmates for Bucky to choose from. 

The first, I must admit, they got off to a rocky start. But between you and me, the most fun love stories do. The barbs exchanged between Samuel Wilson and James Barnes were always sharp, but the underlying tones of affection were always there. Sam is everything Bucky deserves in a future, a symbol of hope in more ways than one. 

The second could be an achingly beautiful story. Love finds its way back to two people who thought it had abandoned them; sorrow gives way to light, and that light illuminates something that’s lain dormant for years. The colour red, something Natasha Romanoff had always associated with misery and guilt, can then mean something new. 

And for the third and most obvious, love was already so intricately woven into their destinies, it was impossible to separate them. Remember when I said love lingers? Even now, after so many years apart, and even during those years apart, Steve and James love fiercely. It was simply not in their nature to do otherwise, and the strike of my arrow would ultimately not change very much. 

I could pick any one of them and it would not matter. All of them made perfect sense. In every single case, I knew he would end up happy. 

And yet. How terrible was it that said happiness was destined to come at a cost? 

“What will happen if you remove it?” Bucky asked, finally closing his fingers around yours. You moved to lean your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes to hide the shimmer of tears. 

“Removing it could mean any number of things,” I told him honestly, and it wasn’t exactly anything that had ever happened before. I had no past experience to draw from. “But I do know what it wouldn’t mean. It wouldn’t mean she never loved you at all.” 

It didn’t seem to reassure either of you, wasn’t the balm against the ache I hoped it would be.

I did not want to do it, especially not when I saw you steel yourself against the pain, but the balance of the universe was at stake. You might not have called yourself an Avenger, but you were every bit one of Earth’s mightiest heroes as you prepared to shatter your own dreams to save a world that would never know of your sacrifice. 

“It’s okay,” you whispered, seemingly unaware that your tears had made it past your lashes and began trailing down your cheeks. You turned and grasped the sides of his face, looking him right in the eye. “Even if I’m not your soulmate, even if we don’t end up together, I will be so happy for you.” 

Because Barnes would continue to love and receive it in return. In that case, what was there to really lament, other than your own heartache?

“I… sweetheart, please.” His forehead fell against yours. “I don’t want anyone else.” 

“It’s okay, Buck, because I love you,” you tried to smile, to be strong, but it twisted and mangled into something less sweet and more crushing. “I don’t care what happens after this, I will always love you. Okay?” 

“Please…” He pleaded again, voice so small yet thick with emotion I had to look away. “I love you too. So damn much. I can’t—” 

“Okay?” You stressed once more, thumbs gently caressing the apples of his cheeks. “Tell me you understand.” 

He shook his head. “I just found you. I can’t lose you now.” 

“You will never lose me.” You pressed a kiss to his forehead, and Barnes didn’t seem to care he had an audience as he wept into your shoulder. 

I did what I had to do, despite how much I hated it. I reached forward and grasped the nock of that blasted arrow, and pulled it free. It disintegrated in my hands, dissipating like the light of an extinguishing star. 

The two of you held each other tight, and I could not bear to watch any further as I left you to finish your goodbyes. I returned to Olympus utterly dejected, my own grief as plain as day. 

After days of moping, Aphrodite halfheartedly tried to reassure me that things would work out; all I had to do was try again with a new arrow meant for the right person this time. 

“Hurry up already,” she said when she’d finally had enough, shaking her head with a dismissive wave of her hand. “The cosmos needs rebalancing, like, yesterday.” 

But she did not understand. I grieved for all true love lost, no matter how short-lived or star-crossed. 

And when I’d finally finished licking my wounds, I was about to embark for Earth once more, prepared to set Clotho’s prophecy and nature’s will in motion, my quiver secured over my shoulder. 

Until I was summoned. The Fates were calling for me, and it was the youngest of the Moirai who greeted me when I arrived. Her expression was grim and her shoulders squared in what I believed was preparation for another round of criticism. 

Lachesis and Atropos were lounging in their own chaises, refusing to make eye contact and mumbling angrily under their breaths. Clotho beckoned me closer to her loom, her strings now neat and free from their tangles, and I peered down at the thread of fate I had supposedly severed just days earlier. 

“I don’t understand,” I told her, staring incredulously at what I recognized to be your thread of life. It was now tightly woven together with Barnes’s. 

I put down my quiver, and almost immediately, the storm clouds over the planet cleared, the rumbling at the centre of the earth stopped, and the tension in the heavens finally began to abate. 

Clotho sighed, suspicions confirmed, the words coming out reluctantly through a tightly clenched jaw. “You were right.” 

It took a moment to sink in. 

The event that upset the universe wasn’t that my arrow had struck you by supposed mistake, or that you had declared a love for James Barnes that was never supposed to be returned. 

It was that we were about to chose the wrong soulmate after all, despite how perfect they’d all appeared on paper—er, thread. 

I laughed, I rejoiced, I celebrated. Even Atropos ended up cracking a smile in the end. 

“Well, what do you know?” She said, joining me as we watched Clotho weave the rest of your story.

Despite the lack of an arrow, love—as always—remained. 

Earth is stained in pretty hues of pink and red today. Normally, I find the whole display a little much. 

Love is meant to be lived every single day—boldly, shamelessly, proudly—not left to be openly expressed just once a year. 

But rest assured, some of you do it right. 

“Mi scusi, quanto costa?” I hear a voice, turning my head to see you and Bucky staring right at me. I break into a wide smile, disguised as a stranger and putting on my best accent—neither of you recognize me. 

“Per la bellissima coppia? Ottanta euro,” I tell him, even though it’s well past the evening rush. Bucky grins as he hands over the notes, taking your hand and tugging you along until you’re both stepping safely into the gondola. 

“Bucky,” you scold gently, voice lowered to a whisper, but you’re smiling just as wide as he is. “We’re going to miss the extraction point—!” 

But then you’re falling into his arms as he pulls you closer by the waist, laughing when he leans down for a kiss, lips missing your cheek and landing on your nose instead. 

“Just for a little longer, sweetheart,” he implores, blue eyes earnest and impossible to resist. “Just you and me.” 

You relent, utterly helpless, and whisper, “Say something else in Italian.” 

“Ah, si?” He laughs, a sound as rare as the man himself. “Sai che ti amo?” 

You hum appreciatively, leaning against his shoulder, “I don’t think I’ll need a translator for that one.” 

I turn away as I row down the canal to give you some semblance of privacy, singing a love song towards the moon you no doubt aren’t even listening to. You’re too busy continuing to defy all expectations as you fall deeper in love to even notice, and I tilt my head up towards the sky. 

How satisfying, no? I want to laugh. The stars wink back at me mischievously, as if telling me not to push my luck. 

You share a sweet kiss under the stars, and I take a moment to bask in the rightness of it all. I must admit, I can’t help but feel a little smug. 

Because sometimes, mistakes are good. Sometimes, mistakes are the best beginning. And sometimes, perfectly, they turn out not to be mistakes at all. 

After all, didn’t I already tell you? 

My dears, I never miss. 

fin.

NOTES — it has been A MINUTE since i wrote for bucky and i lowkey hate how this turned out but you know what, i need to stop obsessing! even if i was very unserious about the greek mythology stuff lmao. anyway, happy valentine’s day my lovelies! i hope you are feeling loved today, because i love you 🥰💕

also, the title of this fic was inspired from a book that has nothing to do with anything lol… but go read said book by anthony marra and prepare to cry your eyes out. you’re welcome.

© 2025 by thereoncewasagirlnamedjane. do not repost, translate, or copy to third party sites. no part of this work may be fed into any AI software or websites. minors are asked not to interact with my blog; you are responsible for your own media consumption. followers with zero engagement, serial likers and blank/ageless blogs will be blocked.

[httpsserene]

can you do Franco Colapinto established relationship prompt 29??? Love your writing!!!

🛞  tread’s uneven: time for a tire rotation! — send me a driver and a prompt from this list of pre-relationship prompts, or these established relationship prompts, or these hurt/comfort prompts, and i’ll write a blurb or drabble for you xxx (prompt lists are made by me!)

༊࿐ ⊹ ˚. didn't realize there were so many franco stans on this app...don't worry, i understand it now ;) happy 3k 🩷 babe !!! thank you for requesting xxx

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#𝟐𝟗. "stop staring at my ass, please." fem!bipoc!reader x franco colapinto

One thing you’re going to do after a trip to the mall is perform a runway show when you get back home.

As soon as you step through the doorway, Franco is rushing to grab the bags from your arms, because while he may have not been able to accompany you on your shopping spree, he’s going to resume his chivalrous boyfriend activities when you’re back with him. He always roots around in the bags to see what you’ve bought as the two of you head toward the bedroom, it’s routine for him to make predictions about what pieces of clothing he’s going to like on you the most.

Your fashion show starts with making him cover his eyes as you change—so you don’t spoil the pieces you're putting together before you complete the total outfit, not because you are concerned with him seeing you undress; you’re well past that point. 

After catching him peeking between his fingers three times, you’re forced to change in the bathroom because your boyfriend is never going to turn down a chance to admire you. 

Those are his words, not yours! You can read between the lines, knowing that he really means that he’s not going to miss a chance to ogle at the sight of you in your undergarments.

He also doesn’t miss a single opportunity to drool over you if you’re fully clothed.

You can see the way his attention is glued to the spread of your hips in the best-fitting pair of jeans you’ve ever worn, and as you turn around to examine the full outfit you’ve put together in the mirror, you can see how he doesn’t even attempt to hide his (admittedly flattering) smirk when he sees how great your ass looks. 

There’s something about wearing a white tank top with a pair of light-wash jeans and heels that makes you feel like the hottest woman on Earth. 

Bending down to fasten the straps of your heels, you glance at the reflection of Franco in the mirror. His mouth has dropped open, and his hands twitch at his sides like he’s fighting the urge to reach out and touch.

Straightening up, you spin around to stare at him with an unimpressed tilt to your lips, your hands resting on your hips as you feign annoyance, “Stop staring at my ass, please.”

Franco pouts, not hiding the way he leans to the side to look around your body to stare at your ass in the mirror.

“Babe!” You yelp, the brown skin of your cheeks heating with a blush at his over-attention. 

The Argentinian man eventually manages to wrangle himself into meeting your eyes after he’s happy with the amount of time he’s spent appreciating your figure. He offers you a picture-perfect grin, his fingers hooking into the belt loops of your jeans to tug you between his legs.

“¿¡Que!? You chose these jeans because you know how good they make your ass look—How can you be mad at me for staring?!”

© httpsserene — do not reupload. photos in header from pinterest. divider by @cafekitsune.

[tellyouily]

again, i'm fallin' headfirst

dnf - pure fluff - 2.3k words

read on ao3

-

George thinks a lot about how love is a chemical in his brain.

More than anything, he thinks it’s kind of cool: here is this big feeling; this warm, fluttering truth that lives inside him and seems so impossible to describe – that, really, is no more than a mix of the right chemicals being released at the right time.

It’s cool. It’s knowledge that makes it a little less overwhelming to be right in the middle of it. 

George thinks, or rather, he has come to realise, that he is one of those people who feels things very strongly.

He remembers every sad movie he has ever watched, unable to forget them, and really good days have him wishing they will never end. He feels fully at home in Florida, at the same time as he sometimes misses London more than he will ever say out loud.

He’s not just in love with Dream – he’s so in love with him that he sometimes thinks it’ll seep into his lungs and make him choke.

Figuratively speaking, that is.

What he means is that he gets in his own way sometimes. In Dream’s way, too, really. Probably.

For George, loving Dream means wanting to shield him from all the bad stuff. Even the unpreventable bad stuff, which is an impossible task. He is practically bound to worry about Dream, which in return, is bound to make Dream worry about him back.

It’s less than ideal, to say the least.

But maybe it’s also just how loving someone works – caring so much that it hurts a little. George thinks so, anyway. It’s a part of the pact.

Ten a.m. finds him half-sitting up, half-lying down in Dream’s bed; wearing Dream’s clothes, scrolling through Reddit on Dream’s laptop.

The trip to Argentina had the unexpected effect of fixing his sleep schedule completely, a development which he has somehow managed to maintain in the last few days since he got home. In an unprecedented move, he fell asleep at a Normal time last night and woke up less than an hour ago, after a full, uninterrupted eight hours.

Dream, still fast asleep next to him, must be well into his tenth by now.

He’s lying on his stomach with one arm thrown across George’s waist under the covers. Somehow he is breathing just fine even though he has his face pressed into the bunched up sheets by George’s hip.

George knows it probably isn’t great to sleep much more than nine hours a night, but he is not about to wake Dream up. Sleep is kind of holy for them, it always has been.

Plus, there is a calmness to this particular morning, to them lying here together like this, that George doesn’t want to disturb. He’d like to stay here forever, actually.

Dream does wake up eventually, though, all on his own.

George is in the middle of reading a random post when Dream’s arm tightens around his middle, bringing him out of his focus. George turns and looks at him.

“Hey,” he says quietly, reaching out and running his fingers through Dream’s hair.

Dream shuffles closer, closing space between them that George didn't even realize was there. 

“Morning,” he mumbles.

Twisting one of Dream’s curls around his finger, George feels it was over him – that love he has for Dream – with a distinct warmth. He wishes there was a way to whisk Dream away to somewhere safe while simultaneously staying right here.

He supposes he just wishes right here was safer, its treatment of Dream more gentle.

Sleep is the medicine, though. And for Dream, distraction works well, too.

It was years ago that George first pledged to be there for Dream no matter what; to distract him from the bad stuff. To give him problems he can solve – something he can actually do something about.

Like George’s allergies, for example.

Although they have proven to be pretty unfixable, he has Dream to thank for the improvement since he first moved to Florida. As opposed to those initial few months, George is now no longer suffering in the mere presence of grass, or of Patches. Or of any of the million other things he is apparently allergic to.

Dream’s air purifier, the one that was bought specifically for George’s benefit and is currently humming softly from its place on top of the dresser making it so George can actually breathe, is proof of Dream’s efforts.

Along with every other purifier and humidifier placed strategically around the house.

George loves how much Dream cares. He loves that he is reminded of it every time he takes a nice, deep, uncongested breath.

Dream opens his eyes, pushing himself up enough to get a view of the laptop balanced on George’s stomach. Instinctively, George quickly closes the Reddit tab before Dream has settled down.

It’s dumb anyway, he doesn’t think he has seen a single good take all morning.

“Is that my laptop?” Dream asks, his morning voice zapping right down George’s spine.

“Yeah,” George hums. “Been reading all your secret emails.”

Dream huffs, probably too tired to laugh for real. It makes George smile, anyway. He settles his hand on the curve of Dream’s nape.

“From all your lovers,” he says.

Dream’s smile peeks out from the sheets.

“Yeah?” He asks.

“Yeah.”

George sniffles, sinking deeper into the pillow behind him.

In an instant, Dream’s eyes are on him, something like concern written in them. George smiles at him, sniffling again.

“Allergies,” he says.

Then, before Dream can ask if the air purifier has stopped working, like George knows he’s about to do, he adds: “I think it’s from the trip. It left some residue in my system or something.”

His best guess is that dust from the flight home, or from the stuffy airport, is still clinging to his nose. Or wherever it is that dust gets stuck. Either that, or it’s not allergies at all, but a cold that’s making him sniffle. He has been feeling a little warm lately…

“ Residue ,” Dream parrots him, mirroring his smile as well. Then, reading George’s mind, he says, “I hope you’re not getting sick or anything.”

George runs his fingers through the hair curling at the back of Dream’s neck.

He doesn’t say what he’s really thinking, which is that a solution to the problem is for Dream to breathe into his mouth 24 hours a day. That way no allergens can enter George’s system at all. A one hundred percent reduction of residue.

Upon closer inspection, though, it’s a pretty terrible idea. They’d be sharing the air, yes, but that means one of them would probably die from carbon dioxide poisoning at some point.

George doesn’t need Dream to tell him that.

“I’m not getting sick,” he says instead. “But guess what.”

He raises his eyebrows down at Dream, whose expression softens into one of openness. Like he just wants to hear George talk, regardless of what he has to say.

It’s a common Dream-expression – George tries not to let it get to his head.

“Happy Valentine’s day,” George says, pressing his lips together proudly.

He’s been waiting for the right moment to say it, and for once, he got to it before Dream. Not that it’s a competition.

Dream is clearly surprised.

“Yeah, happy Valentine’s day,” he says, sounding bewildered.

George smiles. “I won.”

“Yeah,” Dream laughs. “I’m actually impressed.”

“Thanks.”

Come to think of it, it kind of is a competition.

Dream is always first with these kinds of things – birthdays and Christmas Days and anniversaries – so George can’t help but feel a little smug. He won .

Dream lays his arm across George’s middle and leaning his head in his hand. “I have something for you,” he says.

He effectively blocks George’s view of the snoozing laptop screen by moving, but really, George would consider this an upgrade. He brings his hands to Dream’s stubble, cupping his cheeks.

“You have something?”

Dream nods. “A gift. For Valentine’s day.”

George pauses, raising his eyebrows. “You didn’t get me a gift.”

“I did,” Dream says, looking pleased with himself.

“You’re gonna kiss me or something and say that’s the gift.”

“I’m not!” Dream laughs. “I mean, I can do that too, if you want, but that’s not actually it”

Chances of him joking are high, George knows this. He narrows his eyes, trying to pierce through the innocent, honest look on Dream’s face to see if he’s just being an idiot.

It gets him nowhere, though. Dream doesn’t falter even a little bit under his gaze – his grin just gets bigger.

“I’m not lying, I promise,” he says. “Look, I’ll go get it right now. Stay here.”

“Wh–”

But before George can argue, Dream is out of bed, pulling a hoodie over his head on his way out of the room.

George stays, like he’s been told to do, his heart thumping in his chest for reasons he can’t quite place.

For one, he had no idea they were doing gifts this year. He doesn’t have anything for Dream, unless the stupid trinkets he bought for him in Argentina count. He’s pretty sure they don’t. He also has no idea what to expect from this so-called gift to be. Part of him still thinks Dream is making this all up, that there’s no gift – except for maybe that kiss they were talking about.

Surely Dream didn’t actually get him anything; between them, they are probably among the two people in the world who care the least about Valentine’s day. So surely not.

…unless he did.

Oh god , Dream totally does have a gift for him. An actual one. The realization has George sinking further into the pillows. He is determined to not be one of those idiots who smiles to themselves at the thought of their partner, but it’s taking some effort right now.

He can’t be seen like that. Especially not on Valentine’s day – that’s like a double offence.

Just then, Dream comes back through the door.

He still has that pleased look on his face, except now there is something in his hand, too. Something small and – George squints – white?

Dream crawls back into bed.

“I hid it in Patches’ room upstairs so you wouldn’t find it,” he says, a little out of breath.

George laughs. “Did you sprint there or something?”

Dream settles back into the same position as before, drawing a small ‘oof’ from George.

“Yeah,” Dream answers, smiling. “Here.”

He hands George what turns out to be a white jewelry box, sending George’s heart racing all over again.

“Oh no,” George says, staring down at it.

“Open it,” Dream counters, leaning his head in his hand again; watching him.

The box is light, the velvety paper smooth in his hands. George can feel Dream’s expectant gaze on him. He flickers his eyes up to meet it.

Dream’s expression is one of unabashed fondness. He laughs softly at whatever he sees in George’s face.

“Why’re you nervous?” He asks.

“I’m not nervous,” George lies.

“Well, good. You shouldn’t be.” Then, a moment later: “It’s not a ring, I promise.”

It makes George laugh, succeeding in dissolving some of his nerves. Emphasis on some .

“Okay,” he says, but the traces of hesitancy in his voice gives him away.

Under the covers, Dream’s hand slips under George’s (Dream’s) hoodie and settles warmly on the curve of George’s ribs.

“Open it,” Dream says again, more gently this time.

So finally, George does.

He grabs the lid and pries it open carefully – it’s one of those that comes off all the way – letting it slide down the sheets between them.

He expects a chain of some kind, but peering inside…

George almost doesn’t know what it is at first. He gives Dream a confused look and takes out the gold charm, small enough to hold between his thumb and pointer finger, and then–

Recognition dawns on him all at once.

He smiles. “No way.”

It’s gold instead of yellow, but the shape is unmistakable. It even has navy blue detail on its overalls and a mix of black and silver for its glasses. Or goggles – whatever they are. It’s perfect.

George looks up at Dream. “Where did you even find this?”

Dream laughs, shrugging. “At the jewelry place. It was like the first thing I saw when I came in, and I immediately thought of you.”

He went to the jewelry store . George raises his eyebrows. “So what, you went in there just to get me something for today?”

“I would never,” is Dream’s reply, paired with a smile that tells George all he needs to know.

That yes , he did go there just for this. Because of course he did.

“Thank you,” George says, putting the charm back in its box and letting his hands gravitate back to Dream’s face. Dream’s face with his idiot little smile.

“You’re very welcome. I’m glad you like it.”

He sort of sinks into George’s palms, making him look even more like an idiot. George barely resists the urge to lean in and kiss him.

He places his thumbs on the corners of Dream’s lips, instead.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get you anything,” he says.

“That’s okay. I would’ve bought it for you anyway, Valentine’s day or not.”

“Still.”

George does mean it. Had he known they were doing gifts he would have put the effort in. He would have gotten Dream those shoes he was talking about.

“I don’t want your money, though,” Dream says, smiling.

George huffs, pressing his thumbs into Dream’s lips. “Yeah, you have enough, already.”

“Exactly.”

George isn’t entirely convinced, but he knows Dream is being honest. Dream has never been one for gifts, only for giving them. He’d probably just end up feeling bad if George got him anything expensive. Even those shoes.

“I know what you can give me though,” Dream says.

George has some idea of what he’s getting at.

He leans in and presses a single kiss to Dream’s mouth, which is soft and warm; smooth from his vanilla chapstick.

“This?” George asks.

Dream smiles, chasing his lips. He nods, “This.”