#and a few heartfelt messages

[yuyu-bubu]

got a new phone because my old one died forever (dramatic ass) so i cant recover any of my text messages and i love archiving memories (i was hit with the overly sentimental beam at a very young age) this is so sad can we get two likes

[crescentmp3]

soon i wont even be vagueposting about my pain anymore im just gonna start posting in detail like my blog is a journal.

[maskedbyghost]

lets continue our talk about situationship!Simon, where this bitch grovels for monthssss

_______________________________________________

situationship!simon starts sending you text messages. before you could expect something like "you up?" or "come to my office.", but after you broke things off with him, simon started sending you heartfelt text messages, apologizing for his past behavior. “i’ve been thinking a lot about what happened between us,” he texted one night. “i realize now how much i hurt you, and i’m truly sorry, love. i understand if you need space, but i wanted you to know how much i regret everything.”

along with his messages, simon started sending you small but meaningful gifts. he remembered how you’d joked about his tea obsession once and that you’d mentioned you only liked chamomile. to your surprise, he found the best brand of chamomile tea and even packed it in a nice box before delivering it to your room.

he even started to open up more. during a late-night phone call, where you could clearly hear that he was drunk, simon said that he started seeing a therapist. “i’m workin on understandin my issues and changin for the better. i want to be better, not just for you love, but for myself. i hope you can see that i’m tryin to change.”

when you asked him to stop calling you love, he refused. “i can’t help it. you’re mine in a way no one else could be, and i don’t want to pretend otherwise.”

as simon keeps showing up with gifts and heartfelt messages, you can’t help but wonder if he’s being real or if he’s just trying to win you back before breaking your heart again.

you still go on dates with other people, and simon is tormented every time he sees you leaving the base in those pretty dresses—dresses he wishes were just for him. he follows you, quietly lurking in the corners of the restaurants or bars where you’re out with your dates. oddly enough, most of the guys you go out with either get transferred to another base or stop calling you after just one date, and you’re doing your best not to blame simon for it. but you know it's him. and he is not sorry at all.

almost every day, simon texts you, asking you out on dates and planning special things for the who of you. all you have to do is say yes, but each time, you refuse. it breaks his heart every time, but it also makes him more determined to try even harder. he knows he deserves this treatment from you.

back when you and simon used to train together on base, it was a special routine you both enjoyed. now, you’ve started asking other guys to help you with exercises, and it drives him wild with jealousy. watching their hands on you makes him see red. after your training sessions with them, simon invites these guys to spar with him. it quickly becomes clear that he’s using these sparring matches as a chance to take out his frustration and anger, landing a few extra hits just to make his point.

despite everything, you still won’t budge, and it’s only making simon more frustrated. the truth is, it’s becoming harder and harder for you to resist him. his persistence is wearing you down, and the more he pushes, the more you find yourself struggling to stay strong.

simon invites you to one of his therapy sessions, saying his therapist thinks it would be helpful for him and his progress. during the session, he opens up about his struggles and insecurities, laying everything bare. as he talks, you start to feel sympathy for him. it’s clear he’s determined to change and work on himself, and you see how genuine his efforts are.

one night, you were preparing tea in the kitchen when a girl you know from the base asked for simon’s number. she mentioned she was interested in him, which made you jealous. you snapped at her, making it clear that he would never be interested in a girl like her. simon overheard the whole thing and couldn’t help but smirk to himself. it was clear you still had feelings for him, and he took a bit of satisfaction in that.

later that night he sent one simple message to you: "that's my girl. i belong to you, and you only."

after that message, simon stepped up his game. he started sending you lots of sweet texts and little gifts, and even took care of some of your paperwork. it was hard to ignore how much he was trying, and you found it tougher to resist him as he kept showing you how much he cared.

a few months after managing to ignore simon as best as you could, you caught a nasty cold and were stuck in your room. you only texted price to let him know you needed a few days off because you were sick, and got back in your bed trying to sleep that cold off. a few hours later, as you were still trying to fall asleep, you heard your door open. simon walked in, carrying a bunch of bags, a worried look on his face.

“i came as soon as I could,” simon said, worry in his voice. “i brought you soup and medicine.”

simon didn’t leave your side for days. he only went back to his room to grab more clothes and shower. he was insistent on helping you with everything, even assisting you with your showers in the most respectful way possible of course. he’d sit in a chair next to your bed, and you felt a pang of guilt seeing how much he was giving up for you. you even tried to convince him to go get some rest, but despite your protests, he somehow ended up in your bed, gently spooning you as you slept.

simon would whisper sweet things in your hair, thinking you were asleep. you heard every word as he softly talked about how much he missed you, how sorry he was for everything, and how he wanted to make things right. even though you were sick and exhausted, his words touched you deeply.

once you were feeling better, you found simon sitting alone in a common room, lost in thought. you approached him quietly and gently kissed the side of his face. with a soft smile, you whispered, “take me on that date you promised.”

_______________________________________________

@daydreamerwoah

[plutotheplum]

Winter's Kiss

sylus x fem!reader

summary: luke and kieran rope you into spending christmas at the n109 zone (and kissing their boss).

cw: fluff, soft!sylus, kissing under the mistletoe, luke and kieran being idiots, found family

wc: 2.7k

a/n: merry christmas eve/christmas my lovelies!! some fluff for the holiday season! here's to hoping sylus turns up under our christmas trees :)

also on ao3!

Somehow, you’d ended up in the N109 Zone for Christmas.

It wasn’t like the barrage of texts from Luke and Kieran had weighed upon your decision, the rapid influx of messages from the twins demanding your presence for Christmas. That coupled with the image of Sylus alone on Christmas night hadn’t made your stomach churn and heart ache at all.

The year had been a tumultuous one. Wanderers, disturbing visions and wanted criminals had you on edge these past few months, so perhaps unwinding with said, now somewhat mellow, wanted criminals was warranted in some way. 

You heft the presents under your arms, moving your fingers to stabilize the wrapped goods when you feel one of them begin to slip. Shopping hadn’t been too difficult, although choosing a gift for Sylus had proved to be somewhat of a challenge. You weren’t sure whether to get him something heartfelt or to gift him a refurbished gun with new prototyped features that were advertised to the Hunter Association. 

The glittering streams of tinsel drags you out of your thoughts, a smile pulling at your lips as you imagine Luke, Kieran and Sylus decorating. You hear panicked, hushed whispers when you turn the corner, a laugh spilling out of you when you see the sight before you.

Luke perched atop Kieran’s shoulders, Kieran grumbling irritatedly when Luke flails and misses the tip of the Christmas tree, the golden star falling off only for Kieran to shift and have Luke catch it.

“It’s not that hard, you idiot,” Kieran grunts, his knees bending in an attempt to readjust to Luke’s weight.

“Then you try!” Luke protests.

“I thought you two were meant to be in tune,” you muse, stepping closer, over the strewn wrapping paper and bending down to add your presents to the growing collection under the Christmas tree. 

“We are,” they both say in unison, their eyes landing on you.

“You made it!” Luke says happily, squirming, “Boss will be glad.”

“ Really glad,” Keiran adds, his annoyance forgotten momentarily. “We’re glad too.”

You smile at them, crossing your arms over your chest. “It’s nice to see you guys too. Maybe you should try holding the star at the tip, Luke?”

“That’s what I told him!” Kieran says, letting out an aggrieved sigh. 

Luke huffs indignantly, adjusting his position yet again as Keiran steps closer to the tree, giving Luke some more leverage. It’s another failed attempt and Kieran is rolling his eyes, dumping Luke onto his feet unceremoniously. 

“You do me now.”

“What about her?” Luke asks, pointing at you.

“You could ask Mephisto,” you offer, pointing at the mechanical crow that was currently preening his feathers. “What do you say, buddy?”

Mephisto gives an indignant squawk, his little head turning away arrogantly, tending to his feathers with care.

“Nevermind,” you sigh, before looking towards the twins. “Kieran is taller than me, though.”

“Just get on,” Luke whines as he bends his knees, waiting for you to climb up onto his shoulders.

You open your mouth to protest, but there’s a warm hand curling over your hip, pulling you back gently, flush against a firm chest. “Let’s not badger our guest, hm?”

Deep and velvety, you have no doubts as to who this voice belongs to. Your head tilts back to find Sylus smirking down at you, his expression amused.

“Glad you could join us, sweetie. The N109 Zone isn’t usually so… festive.”

“Yeah, well, apparently you were missing me, so I figured I’d drop in,” you tease, a sly smile spreading across your face.

Luke and Kieran snicker until Sylus’ stern expression silences them, his hand squeezing at your hip in warning.

“I never said that.”

“Must’ve been the wind,” you murmur.

“Right,” Sylus deadpans.

You squeak when the red mist wraps around you, lifting you off of the ground, the golden star being thrust into your hand by the same swirling mist. The trio of men beneath you seem amused as the tendrils sweep you higher, closer to the top of the tree, giving you enough height to place the star right where it needs to be.

Sylus’ Evol dissipates as it sets you down onto your feet, the mist sweeping across playfully and making your dress flutter. 

“That’s one way to do it,” Kieran remarks, slinging his arm over Luke’s shoulders before they shoot each other knowing glances and disappear from the living room.

“You came,” Sylus says once the twins have left, his arms crossing over his chest.

“I did,” you reply, peering up at him, your hands clasping behind your back, “too bad you never sent me a personal invitation.” Sylus smiles, and you can’t help but think he looks softer in this light, the ruthless leader of Onychinus replaced by a man who seems less intense and more accommodating than usual.

“I figured Luke and Kieran would’ve gotten through to you,” he muses, his head tilting as he lets his gaze dip over you.

You do the same, taking in his sweater and trousers, trying to quell the inconvenient yet undeniable pull of attraction you feel towards him. 

“Well, they did,” you sigh, managing to drag your gaze back up to meet his, “although I can’t say I appreciated how many texts they sent.”

“The twins tend to get excited,” Sylus replies, reaching out towards you, his fingers tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

It’s hard to not notice how Sylus’ touch lingers for a moment, his expression looking a little absent-minded as though remembering something from the past. Your brows furrow, unable to decide between asking him or letting his touch linger further. His hand drops away after a few moments before he clears his throat. 

“I made dinner,” he announces.

You laugh, eyes lighting up at the thought of Sylus in the kitchen. You don’t quite believe him though, not when Sylus had enough money to hire at least a dozen personal chefs.

“You’re not serious,” you say, head tilting in amusement.

“I am,” Sylus smirks, his hand landing on your lower back as he guides you forward, towards the hallway, “Luke and Kieran pitched in.”

“Now I feel special,” you muse.

“I suppose you are,” Sylus replies, his expression sobering, “to all of us.”

You’re taken aback by the sincerity in his words, heart giving way to a flutter that you attempt to squash down by pinching yourself, not that it helps. This sense of belonging isn’t what you’d planned on, warmth blooming in your chest as you stare up at Sylus and remember the twins. It’s nice, really, to be valued like this. You can’t help but think you could get used to it. 

Laughter echoes through the hallway as you and Sylus move through it. You startle when Kieran shouts, his voice urgent. 

“Don’t move!”

“Oh, look at that ,” Luke sighs dramatically, feigning innocence as he peers upwards, directing his gaze above you and Sylus.

Bewilderment flashes across your face until you hear Sylus let out a low laugh. You tip your head back, eyes narrowing when you spy the sprig of mistletoe hanging right above where you’re standing. Mephisto adds in something that sounds like a suspiciously happy squawk, and you stare at the crow, realising you’ve been betrayed. 

“Funny,” you say drily, shaking your head. 

Kieran sighs just like Luke, as though he can’t quite believe the situation. The cunning expression in their eyes gives them away. 

Devious, little brats.

“Well, you can’t move now,” Luke says, sounding positively aggrieved. 

“I suppose you’ll just have to kiss, isn’t that right?” Kieran says, looking towards Luke. Luke nods, a self-satisfied smile settling on his face. “Those are the rules.”

“What rules?” you shoot back, glaring at the pair of twins, “there are no rules. I could quite literally just walk away.”

“Christmas tradition !” Luke and Kieran both argue, their faces looking a little crestfallen when they hear the tone of your voice, “you have to kiss!”

You can feel your heart twinge at the earnest tone present in their voices, your eyes flickering up to meet Sylus’. Strangely enough, he doesn’t seem to have any protests, his gaze boring down into yours expectantly. 

“You seriously have nothing to say?” you grouse, head tilting.

“It’s just a kiss, sweetie,” he replies, his arm wrapping around your waist to bring you closer to him. “What’s the matter, hm? Afraid you’ll fall for me?”

“The thought is laughable,” you retort, trying to ignore the soothing squeeze of his hand against your side; the unrelenting warmth that was currently seeping into you and melting your hardened resolve.

“I suppose we’ll find out,” Sylus murmurs, his fingers gripping your chin to tilt your head. “We have time.”

“Move a little to the right!” Kieran calls out, waving his hand.

“What for?” you ask exasperatedly, feeling Sylus step closer, moving you with him.

“For- for the aesthetic !” Luke huffs out.

The twins look a little impatient as you stare at them, your brows furrowing further when you see Kieran whisper something to Luke.

Sylus doesn’t let you dwell longer on the twins’ antics, his calloused hand cupping your cheek to turn you towards him. 

“Merry Christmas, sweetie.”

Your eyes flutter shut as his lips slot over yours, your hand curling around his wrist. Sylus kisses you like he means it, lips soft yet insistent, his thumb smoothing over your cheek. You forget where you are momentarily, knees feeling weak as you fist his sweater pulling him closer, rising up on the tips of your toes to meet his kiss better.

Sylus tilts his head, deepening the kiss. Your stubborn resolve weakens pitifully and you can only think about how perfect this moment is, how good Sylus’ lips feel, how warm his embrace is-

There’s a blinding array of flashes, white sparking out from under your closed eyelids until your eyes snap open, head turning to the side to find both Luke and Kieran with cameras in hand.

“Oh, shit,” Luke begins.

“I thought the flash was off,” Kieran mutters, frowning.

You grit your teeth, taking one step towards them, your eyes narrowing. “Give that to me.”

Luke and Kieran hug their cameras to their chest protectively.

“Christmas memories,” Luke laughs nervously when he sees the determination in your eyes. “Wouldn’t- wouldn’t want to lose those.”

Kieran nods in agreement.

“Boss!” They cry out when the cameras get swept out of their hands by Sylus’ Evol, one of them landing in your hands.

You click through the images, heat blossoming in your stomach when you see how intimate the kiss looks, Sylus’ body pressed firmly against yours, his hand on your cheek. It’s romantic, your somewhat eager response, Sylus’ tight hold, all captured closely through the lens.

“‘s nice,” Sylus murmurs, his chest pressing up against your back as he peers down at the little camera screen.

“ No ,” you shake your head vehemently, “it’s not nice.”

“We look good,” he whispers, his voice dropping lower, lips brushing over the shell of your ear.

You try to ignore the way his hands feel on your hips, his body pressing a little closer into yours. It’s hard not to agree with him the longer you stare at the images though, you do look good, and Luke’s interjection about Christmas memories has you feeling a little forgiving. 

“Fine, keep them,” you sigh, handing the camera back to Luke whilst Sylus does the same to Kieran, “but don’t share them, please.”

Luke and Kieran nod enthusiastically and you snag onto Kieran’s arm before he can leave, your voice dropping to a low whisper.

“Send them to me,” you whisper, “and not a word to anyone.”

Kieran smiles deviously and you roll your eyes, reaching up to ruffle his hair. 

“You’re such a jerk, Kieran.”

“C’mon,” he whines, “you love us.”

You smile up at him, your arm hooking with his. “Maybe just a little.”

He snorts and you let out a laugh, following after Luke and Sylus who had left earlier, talking about something else. Dinner goes smoothly enough and you refuse to tell Luke and Kieran what their presents are, despite their whining.

You feed Mephisto little bites of your food, your finger petting his little feathery head gently every now and then. He preens at the attention, letting out an odd sounding chirp every now and then when you tap his little beak and offer him some more food.

Sylus is seated beside you and it’s becoming increasingly difficult to stop stealing glances at the side of his face. The longer you stare, the more you can feel yourself falling deeper, a pressing crisis unfolding in your mind. 

Fuck . You think you might like him.

Deep rooted feelings of yearning never lead to any good, and yet, you were too impatient not to act on them.You wait patiently, fingers playing with themselves in your lap, for the perfect opportunity. 

It presents itself when Luke and Kieran break out into an insignificant quarrel, their eyes moving elsewhere. Sylus is already looking towards you and you’re leaning forward, cupping the back of his head to bring him closer, lips meeting his in a slow, sweet kiss. 

“What was that for?” Sylus murmurs when you break away, his eyes roving over the flush settling on your cheeks.

“No reason,” you reply nonchalantly, leaning back in your chair.

Sylus scoffs out a laugh, behaving seemingly unaffected. There’s a light flush dusted across his cheeks however, his tongue darting out to taste the remnants of you on his lips.

“This is for no reason too,” he says, grabbing your chin and pulling you closer.

You sigh contentedly when he kisses you, arms wrapping around his neck, your lips working against his a little feverishly as though you can’t get enough.

A cacophony of protests breaks out from the twins when they see you and Sylus kissing at the table.

“Gross! Get a room!”

You roll your eyes, breaking away from Sylus to peer over at them. 

“You were the ones that made us kiss,” you huff, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Yeah, we didn’t mean all the time,” Luke corrects.

“Deal with it,” Sylus interrupts, brushing a kiss to your cheek.

You hum happily, Sylus’ hand warm as it encases yours under the table. Luke pouts and Kieran mirrors him, both of them slumping back in their chairs.

You and Sylus get a little more privacy when you step outside, snow dusting across both of you, covering the shrubbery and trees. Mephisto swoops through the air, his mechanical wings flapping as he lands on a tree branch above. The icy chill of the wintery air isn’t so bad, not when Sylus is stepping up behind you, his chin resting on your shoulder as he holds you close to him.

“It was bound to happen,” he murmurs, kissing your cheek again as you stare up at the night sky, glittering with stars.

“You seem awfully sure of yourself,” you reply, squeezing his forearms.

“Let’s just say… I had an inkling. I know you, sweetie.”

“I don’t understand what you mean sometimes,” you sigh, peering up at him, head resting on his shoulder.

“You don’t have to,” he whispers, dropping a kiss to your temple.

You sway gently in his arms, pressing yourself closer, eyes slipping shut. You’d kill for more moments of peace like this.

It never seems to last for long.

The beginnings of torn wrapping paper begin to fill your ears and you peek through the glass window to find the twins tearing at their presents.

“Oh, these are sick !” Luke announces, beginning to twirl around the pair of knives you had gotten him.

“They have to wait!” you protest, reaching for the door, “Sylus, they have to wait!”

“Let them,” Sylus murmurs, dragging you back into his arms, his chest rumbling with laughter.

You can’t help but let out an exasperated noise, smiling up at him. Sylus lowers his head and you nudge your nose against his gently, pressing a tender kiss to his lips.

“What?” he asks quietly when you trace the curve of his cheek, your fingers splaying across his skin.

You kiss him again, revelling in the softness of his eyes when you pull apart. There's a strange warmth in your chest, an unknown pull in the back of your mind as though something familiar were evading you.

You feel like you know him too.

“Merry Christmas, Sylus.”

[chuluoyi]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄

xavier x reader

while the entire kingdom of philos rejoices over the soon-to-be-born heir to the throne, the king’s unwavering priority remains clear: his queen

genre/warnings: mildly suggestive, fluff, fluff, fluff, comfort, king!xavier and queen!reader, pregnancy, spoilers! from xavier's myth shooting stars and taking elements of xavier's card silvery polyphony

note: i'm not actually a xavier girlie... but ever since his myth and anecdote when shooting stars fall, he's been marinating in my head :')

“Your Majesty, here are the gifts meant for the Queen by the townsfolk.”

Xavier’s gaze swept over the various trinkets that filled the throne room—from fine fabrics and glistening pearls, to handwritten messages with heartfelt wishes for the future royal baby and your wellbeing. He raised an eyebrow, a flicker of curiosity crossing his face.

"All this? You’ve inspected every single one of them?" he questioned, gaze flicked to Jeremiah, his aide. His cerulean eyes narrowed slightly. "Nothing with malicious intent?"

Jeremiah shook his head with a smile. "No. They are purely tokens of love and respect for Her Majesty."

"I see..."

Xavier hummed softly, the stiffness in his posture easing as the assurance settled over him—no harm would come to you. In the fifth year of your reign as King and Queen of Philos, it had become clear that the people had come to adore their queen to such an extent.

As they should. The king found himself smiling despite his usual composure then. You were due their respect for all of your service and compassion. And now, with you carrying the future heir to the throne, it was even more deserved.

"Has the Queen been well? She hasn't been around much," Jeremiah asked, a knowing look crossed his face. "After all, you're counting down the days now..."

With the royal physician declaring you were at full-term, you could give birth any day now. Xavier would be lying if he said he wasn't antsy, but the least he could do in front of his subjects was showing an air of indifference.

But of course, Jeremiah knew him best after you.

"Why don't you pay her a visit? And oh, yeah, I think I've heard the maids saying Her Majesty is missing having the King serenading her!"

Your husband had been busy these past few days that he had little time to spend with you each day.

Of course, you missed him. There wasn’t much you could do while in confinement. And so when he entered your chambers on this windy winter day, you were more enthusiastic than you should have—

“Xavier!” You turned to him and smiled so brightly, your excitement making you rise to your feet and scamper towards him.

But he was faster, closing the distance in an instant and catching you before you could take more than a few steps. His hands steadied you, as the heavy weight in your womb proved to be a challenge.

“You’re supposed to be on bedrest,” he scolded, a frown tugging at his features. His hands rested firmly on your shoulders, holding you in place. “Don’t move around too much.”

“I’m fine, I’m fine!” You giggled as he led you to your bed, but before you could settle in, a sharp wave of pain rippled through your abdomen and spine. The smile faltered on your lips as you sucked in a quick breath, instinctively leaning into him for support.

“What's wrong?” Xavier’s voice tensed with concern, his arm tightening around you as his eyes widened in alarm. His free hand hovered protectively over yours, which was clutching your swollen belly. "Is it hurting? I’ll call for—"

“No, no!” You declined amidst your labored breaths, mustering up a smile despite the discomfort. “I’ve consulted the royal physician. It’s perfectly normal for me to experience this... I just have to bear it.”

“How is this normal?” Xavier's brow furrowed with worry and sternness. “If this keeps up, how will you preserve your strength for the real labor?”

He had always detested seeing you in distress. It was evident in all his actions, from the earliest moments of your relationship to this very day, and it made your heart warm.

When the pain subsided, you made him sit on your bed and brought both your hands to cup his face, trying to coax a smile from him.

"Don't worry too much, love." You grinned, eyes crinkling. "On the bright side, it just means that our little star is thiiis close to meeting us."

Xavier found your gaze and for a moment, he stayed silent. His clear blue eyes softened as they held yours. You had always been like this—diminishing your own discomfort in favor of reassuring him, and if you thought it would make him feel better, then you were sorely wrong because his instincts to protect you were deeply engraved in him, and it only fueled his concern further.

His hands settled over yours, pressing them to his face.

“From what I’ve seen, this baby really enjoys bullying you,” he muttered sullenly.

You pursed your lips. “A friendly reminder, you’re the one who got me with child.”

“I’ve always thought that sexual act is the pinnacle of showing the depths of my undying loyalty towards you.” His tone was mock-serious, the edge of a grin tugging at his lips. “The baby is a pleasant gift, what I enjoy more though—”

Before you could protest, his fingers skimmed over your figure, landing with unmistakable familiarity on your ample breasts—

“I like these the most.”

“Xavier!” You swatted his hand away with wide eyes, crossing both arms over your chest in an attempt to block him from further groping.

He chuckled openly at how defensive you were, a playful glint in his eyes. With a soft pat on your head, he stood up and extended his right hand towards you.

“What?” You stared at his hand, almost squeaking, wary that his hands might wander to your sensitive skin again. Xavier let out another chuckle, clearly amused by your reaction.

“I’ve heard through the grapevine that Her Majesty the Queen wants me to serenade her,” he said with a teasing smile. “And as your humble servant, who am I to refuse?”

. . .

You has always adored how Xavier plays the piano.

He claimed he didn't like the instrument that much, but the way his fingers moved over the keys so effortlessly, each note flowing with such precision—it was one of the many ways he captured your heart.

You sat next to him by the grand piano, your head gently bobbing along with the beautiful rhythm he drew from the keys.

“You used to play this a lot back then,” you commented as Xavier started playing the piece he composed himself, one you often referred as ‘his very own soundtrack.’

Celestial Serenade. Xavier even had a name for it. Solemn and playful, it was the beginning that always got your heart racing. But when he reached the bridge, a gnawing sadness would creep in, tugging at your heart.

And suddenly, in that moment, you had an epiphany.

From the days you had loved him as a student in the Academy, and then as a knight and your crown prince, those lonely years of waiting for him to come back the first time, until that decisive heartbreaking day when you let him go into the unknown once and for all—

—and those gruelling, painful years of waiting that followed afterwards… up until the day he finally came back to restore Philos, to retake his throne, and to make you his queen in the truest sense—

Tears pricked at your eyes at the flashback of everything the two of you had gone through, right after he finished the outro.

Xavier paused, his fingers still on the keys. He turned to you, but his eyes widened as he noticed the tears spilling from your eyes. “Why are you crying?”

“Nothing, I’m just—” Startled, you quickly wiped the tears from your face, but Xavier gently lifted your chin, his touch soft but insistent.

He was worried, his gaze searching yours as if he was struggling to find the right words, his eyes full of concern. “Tell me,” he urged quietly, the hint of a tremor in his voice. “What is it? What made you cry?”

How could you explain what you had just realized— the weight of all that had brought you to this moment? The journey, the sacrifices, the love that had never faltered even in the darkest of times?

And it all culminated into one single sentence, as you stared right into those beautiful eyes of his:

“I love you, Xavier.”

In that very second, Xavier could’ve sworn his heart was entirely in your grasp. His breath caught, and the world around him seemed to fade, leaving only you—your teary-eyed confession and the raw honesty in your gaze.

Through countless dawns and twilights, through many starry sea expeditions and a daring voyage to the past— everything he had done to protect you. All these long years of yearning to see you again had led to this precise moment, where happiness was finally within your reach.

To know his beloved returns his feelings in full… He was overwhelmed by love you gave him, it made his heart so, so full.

Xavier cupped your face with both hands, his thumbs gently wiping away the tears that streaked your cheeks. “Don't cry, you big crybaby. Save it for when we welcome our child later.”

You sniffled, frowning at him. “So, you don’t love me?”

A soft smile played on his lips as he pulled you into his arms, wrapping you in his warmth. He buried his face in the crook of your shoulder.

“Silly... I love you more than anything in this world.”

Three days later, you went into labor.

The palace descended into chaos, with attendants scurrying through the halls. But amidst all the commotion, Xavier was the one who struggled the most to maintain his composure.

Your cries from behind the doors felt like a blade slicing through his chest. He wanted nothing more than to rush in, to hold your hand, to do something—anything—but the midwives had firmly insisted that he stay out of the way.

Xavier’s mind raced with worry, his eyes fixed on the door as though sheer willpower could ease your pain. The only thing that mattered right in this moment was you and the child you were bringing into the world—and it was taking everything in him not to lose his wits.

Then, amidst his fervent prayers, hours later, a piercing cry broke through.

Xavier froze, his heart lurching. Relief and disbelief flooded him all at once as he realized—it was his baby's first cry.

But what about you?

He so desperately wanted to see you that Jeremiah had to physically restrain him. The women assured him you and the baby were being tended to.

When they finally allowed him inside, he rushed in so quickly he nearly stumbled.

There you were, seated on the bed, hair disheveled, exhaustion etched into every line of your face, yet to him, you were radiant—utterly so. His heart swelled as he watched you cradle the newborn, cooing with a tenderness that stole his breath.

“Now, say hi to Papa...”

Your voice was almost feather-like, yet it was in that moment the truth hit him with full force—his baby was really here. He stared at the tiny bundle in your arms, awestruck, before his gaze shifted to your pale face again.

And you smiled at him so brilliantly. So warmly.

“Xavier... say hello to our son.”

He felt like he was in a daze as he slowly kneeled and took the baby into his arms. The small, fragile weight felt both unfamiliar and extraordinary. This child— was a part of him, but most importantly, he was a part of you too.

The baby stirred, and when his eyes blinked open, Xavier’s breath hitched. Those tiny blue eyes, a mirror of his own, locked onto him.

“Ah, he—” Xavier faltered, his chest tightening as emotions overwhelmed him. Holding his son, seeing him so clearly now, felt like an arrow straight to his heart. Before this moment, he hadn’t thought much about how the baby might look. But now, he couldn’t help marveling at the sight. The little one had his hair and eyes, yet your delicate nose and soft, heart-shaped lips.

In that instant, all his doubts and fears melted away like snow under the sun, replaced by a feeling so intense, so overflowing, it brought a lump to his throat and tears in his eyes.

This was love—raw and undeniable. A love he never knew he could feel so deeply, now cradled in his arms.

And also in you.

As his gaze found yours again, Xavier made a vow—to every god and deity that might be listening, that no matter where his life led him, no matter how cruel fate might twist his path again, if it meant getting even a glimpse of this unparalleled happiness with you, then—

He would endure it all. Every storm, every trial. For you, for the love you shared, and now for the tiny life in his arms. And if you were ever separated again—

No matter how, no matter how many times, through all means, he will definitely find you, always.

[klavlock]

au where instead of dying airplane finishes pidw and then starts releasing increasingly insane extras catering to every kink and ship he can think of. bingge gets pissed on by a wife. xin mo ends up in someone’s ass. he writes the official a/b/o au. he’s having so much fun writing unhinged shit that his writing actually /improves/. peerless cucumber still complains about the plot (airplane please tell me sqq and lqg didn’t fuck in the ling xi caves that’s not canon right? right??) but even he admits the prose is nothing to scoff at.

once airplane has exhausted the pidm universe he just takes mobei jun out of it and has his oc fuck or be fucked by everything he can think of. bingge? already covered in the pidm extras, but he throws it in few more mobing fics for good luck. a thinly veiled airplane self insert? naturally! every single peak lord? why not? the concept of the demon realm, anthropomorphised and in need of a good dicking down? airplane's pretty proud of that one.

eventually he just becomes the chuck tingle of web novels. he’s equal parts hated and admired. some of his fans have left but a lot stay on (including cucumber-bro, of course) and he gains new fans who haven’t even read pidw and are just here for the insane porn concepts! he’s having so much fun! nobody cares how gay it’s all gotten!

it’s quick to write and it pays his bills so well he’s able to actually work on a new novel in secret. he publishes it under a different name. it has kickass world building, a tender gay romance and tasteful, well-thought out sex scenes. nobody figures out it’s written by airplane shooting towards the sky. not even cucumber-bro - not at first. he leaves a very heartfelt review, expressing his delight at finding something well written with a great protagonist and fascinating monsters that doesnt become a disgusting tropey mess like ANOTHER web novel he could mention!! and then there’s another message tacked on, shyly admitting that the romance has helped him come to terms with his own sexuality. airplane is equal parts genuinely touched and cackling with trollish glee. he HAS to reveal his identity. the resulting meltdown goes down in fandom history. airplane gets a best friend and ( maybe?? ) a boyfriend out of it.

he never stops writing the mobei jun porn.

[moonlightwritingf1]

Straight to you | LN4

✨summary ━━━━━━━ Y/N, captivated by photos of her friend Lando Norris at a gala, sends a bold, flirtatious text that shifts their dynamic. Days later, Lando surprises her at her apartment, confessing his feelings and revealing he can't hold back anymore. 

✨pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

✨word count ━━━━━━━ 1.2k

Y/N stretched out on her couch, a glass of wine in hand as her phone screen illuminated her face. She had spent the past hour scrolling through social media, and her feed was flooded with pictures and videos from the FIA Gala in Rwanda.  And as much as she hated to admit it, she couldn’t stop scrolling through them.

Lando Norris was everywhere: standing proudly with his team, laughing with his peers, and posing for the cameras. But it was one photo in particular that had her captivated—Lando in a perfectly tailored tuxedo, grinning like he knew he owned the room.

She sighed, smiling softly to herself. Over the past year, Lando had gone from a casual acquaintance to someone she truly valued. They’d met through mutual friends at a gathering in London, and their banter had been immediate and effortless. They weren’t best friends by any means, but their connection had grown naturally over time.

He had even invited her to a few races over the past year. At first, she’d assumed it was just because she was someone fun to have around. But there were moments—small, fleeting moments—when she caught him looking at her in a way that made her wonder if there was more to it.

The truth was, she found him attractive. Too attractive, in fact. But it was a line she’d refused to cross, afraid of ruining the friendship they’d built.

As the picture of Lando lingered on her screen, she opened their chat.

Y/N: Congrats again, Lan! You were incredible this season. So proud of you.

She reread the text twice, debating if it sounded too sentimental. After all, they didn’t exchange heartfelt messages often. Usually, it was teasing, inside jokes, and the occasional check-in. But tonight, pride for him outweighed her hesitation, and she hit send.

The reply came quicker than she expected.

Lando: Thanks, Y/N. Means a lot coming from you.

She smiled, staring at the screen. She could stop there, but the wine in her system and the tuxedo picture still sitting in her camera roll gave her an unexpected burst of boldness.

Y/N: Also… you looked insanely hot at the gala. Just saying.

The moment she hit send, her eyes widened in horror. “Oh no,” she muttered, setting her wine down and pressing her hands to her cheeks, which were now burning.

Her phone buzzed almost immediately.

Lando: Hot, huh? Didn’t know you thought of me like that.

She groaned, biting her lip as she typed back.

Y/N: Ignore that. I didn’t mean to send it.

Lando: Yeah, right. Totally accidental.

Y/N: Lando.

Lando: What? I’m just saying, I don’t mind. In fact, I think we should talk more about how hot you think I am.

She couldn’t help but laugh, even as she shook her head.

Y/N: You’re impossible.

Lando: And you’re blushing. Don’t lie.

She threw her phone onto the couch, but when it buzzed again, curiosity got the better of her.

Lando: For the record, I thought you looked pretty hot at Silverstone this year. Just saying.

Her heart skipped a beat. Was he flirting? No, he had to be joking—right?

Y/N: Are you flirting with me, Norris?

Lando: Maybe. Is it working?

Her stomach flipped, but she decided to match his energy.

Y/N: I don’t know. Maybe try harder next time.

Their playful exchange continued for another half hour, and while neither of them outright said what they were really thinking, the subtext was undeniable. By the time she went to bed, she couldn’t stop smiling, even if part of her wondered if they’d crossed a line.

Two days later, Y/N was in her tiny London apartment, halfway through cooking dinner, when a knock on the door startled her. She wasn’t expecting anyone. Wiping her hands on a towel, she walked to the door, pulling it open cautiously.

“Lando?” she asked, her voice filled with disbelief.

He stood there, suitcase in one hand and a small smile on his face. He was dressed casually in a hoodie and joggers, his hair slightly messy from what she assumed was a long flight.

“Surprise,” he said, his tone light.

Her mouth opened, then closed as she tried to process what she was seeing. “What are you doing here? Weren’t you supposed to go to Monaco after the gala?”

“I was,” he admitted, stepping inside as she moved to let him in. “But I decided London sounded better.”

She closed the door behind him, her heart racing. “Why?”

His suitcase hit the floor with a thud as he turned to face her. The playful glint in his eyes softened, replaced by something more serious.

“Because you’re here,” he said simply.

Her heart stopped for a moment, and she struggled to find the right words. “Lando, I—”

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he interrupted, taking a step closer. “That night, the things we said… it made me realize I’ve been holding back. And I don’t want to do that anymore.”

She blinked, her throat dry. “Holding back from what?”

“From this,” he said, his voice quieter now. “From telling you how I feel. I thought I could keep it casual, keep pretending we were just friends. But I can’t. Not when I know you feel something too.”

Her breath caught. “What makes you so sure I feel something?”

He grinned, leaning in just slightly. “You called me hot. Twice.”

She let out a breathless laugh, shaking her head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Maybe,” he admitted. “But I’m also here. For you. So tell me, Y/N… do you feel it too?”

She hesitated for only a moment before nodding. “Yes. I’ve felt it for a long time. I just didn’t want to lose you.”

His smile softened, and he reached out to brush a strand of hair from her face. “You’re not going to lose me. If anything, you’re stuck with me now.”

Before she could overthink it, he closed the distance between them, cupping her face and pressing his lips to hers. The kiss was everything she’d dreamed of—soft yet urgent, full of all the feelings they’d both been holding back.

Her hands found their way to his chest, gripping the fabric of his hoodie. The kiss deepened as they moved toward the couch, their hands exploring, their whispered confessions tumbling out between kisses.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted this?” he murmured, his lips trailing down her neck.

“Probably not as long as I have,” she shot back, pulling him closer.

“Wait,” she murmured again against his mouth, pulling back slightly.

“What?” he asked, his voice husky.

“You came all the way to London for me?”

He smiled, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “I’d fly to the ends of the earth for you.”

Her heart swelled at his words, and she pulled him back into another kiss, this one even more passionate than the last.

That night, months of tension and longing melted away as they finally let themselves feel everything they’d been suppressing.

Hours later, they lay tangled together on the couch, her head resting on his chest as his fingers lazily traced circles on her arm. She looked up at him and smiled, their embrace a quiet testament to their closeness.

“I’m glad you came,” she said softly.

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

[boiohboii]

The Twitter Marriage

(Oscar Piastri x fem!driver!reader)

Yn Ln has had a crush on fellow driver Oscar Piastri since their f2 days but she never and will never tell him.... at least not to his face

or

In which Aston Martin driver needed the alcohol to confess her feelings

N.B: rushed a bit cause of finals, but I hope you like it. Also, doesn't follow any timeline tbh. NOTHING IN THIS IS ADDS UP IN REGARDS OF DATES AND CHARACTERS AND STUFF, IT IS JUST FOR FUN.

WARNINGS: REALLY BAD PICK UP LINES, SOME SWEAR WORDS. Probably some spelling mistakes as well. Short fic.

faceclaim: sabrina carpenter

Masterlist

Liked by ynmyworld, f1memes, charliethesinglemom and 168,920 others

Keepingupw/f1: Aston Martin driver, Yn Ln, tweets as she celebrates her p3 in Monaco.... it seems like she has something to say to fellow driver, Oscar Piastri.

username: the entire grid is just having fun with that joke.

username: miss ma'am, STAND UP!!

username: what do you mean stand up? SHE FOLDED LIKE A CHAIR

username: understandably so tbf

username: no but her offering to make Spain Oscar's home race LIKE CARLOS ISN'T LOOKING FOR THAT MAN'S BLOOD.

username: so foul of her 💀

username: her tagging him is insane

username: pr is gonna have a headache tomorrow

username: the fact that she's tweeting this shit while in a club, WHERE OSCAR IS A FEW METERS AWAY FROM HER

username: you know she's out of it when she starts using twitter.

Liked by F1_updates_live, ynmyqueen, oscaroopastryy and 184,710 others

Keepingupw/f1: yn ln on her way back to the hotel last night after celebrating her Monaco podium.

username: she got wasted omg

username: now those tweets make sense

username: where did she even get the shoe box from

username: and where did her shoes go, papers fell out of that thing

username: so are you guys gonna post the video or?

username: what video?

username: there's a video going on twitter where these pics are taken from she was so drunk, she was actually dancing in the middle of Monaco (go queen, live your best life) and then the papers fell out of the box and she immediately went down to pick them up and put them back but then after she was halfway through she kept looking at the ground then at the box and then at her feet, you can see her pouting as she kept putting away the little papers in the box again

username: shut upp!!! I need that video! IT IS A LIFE SAVING MATTER ATP

username: yn ln is gonna be the death of me

yn ln has shared a story

text: when you wake up to a video of drunk you on the streets of Monaco and some tweets that should've gone with you to the grave

yn ln has shared a story

text: self pity and cringe time over, back to our regular schedule of slaying

Sebastian Vettel has shared a story

text: someone tell her that staying with me till the Spanish GP isn't going to make people forget that she exists

yn ln has replied to your story: your kids love me! AND SO DOES HANNA

yn ln has replied to your story: also, please take pity on me, I can't face him again, ever, I will just retire, I can't do this

yn ln has replied to your story: why are you ignoring meeeee!!! Not you too, Oscar is already doing thaaaat, I wanna turn into a worm, I'd die quicker if I was a worm, I wouldn't have to go through this much embarrassment if I was a worm

Sebastian Vettel replied to your message: are you drunk right now?

Liked by pierregasly, wtf1, oscaroopastryy and 268,715 others

Keepingupw/f1: we bring you part 2 of the osyn saga

username: i love this family

username: yn is such a pr nightmare

username: the ACTUAL child of fernando

username: wait, now that you reminded me, I need to update the family tree

username: post the updated family tree you coward

username: anyone who doesn't watch f1 will 100% believe that Charles and Nicole are Oscar's parents

username: hey, don't disrespect charles' heartfelt adoption like that

username: this sport is so fucking unserious

username: I refuse to believe that this is real

Sebastian Vettel has shared a story

Text: huh..... it's not so bad having her here

Liked by OscarPiastri, Charles_leclerc, Arthur_leclerc and 918,037 others

yn ln: let her cook now 🧡

username: yn.... yn..... YN.... WHAT ARE YOU COOKING YN

username: it has started, I can feel it in my bones

username: so she's with Oscar now, good to know (screaming into my pillow as I type)

username: oh so if I wear orange I'm dating Lando now, nice to know ig

username: fuck off away from my replies, I wanna have fun

username: yn pls don't, I can't lose you, you were the only wife left standing

username: PLS TELL ME THAT MY SHIP SAILED

username: if I see that australian's face anywhere on this account I will start biting ankles

username: ok Leo, geez, no need to terrorise your sister-in-law

username: I can't believe she was simping on main for a boy that goes 'wut'

Liked by Ynln, pierregasly, Arthur_leclerc and 890,627 others

Oscar Piastri: let him cook 💚

username: nope, no, nuuh, I see nothing

username: other partner's team colors, matching captions, liking the posts..... yup, they're officially dating

username: we lost her to a mini kimi raikkonen

username: I see that as a win tbh

username: kimi was and is the IT girl of the grid

username: how dare you forget about our very own Britney Spears.... nico you will always be missed

username: you can't prove that they're dating from just that

username: oh boy, the delulu is strong with this one

Oscar Piastri and Yn Ln shared a post

Liked by Charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, danielricciardo and 903,815 others

Yn ln & Oscar Piastri: I said let them cook 💚🧡

username: YES YES YES YES YES YES

username: MY PARENTS

username: This is why women shouldn't be in f1, wtf is wrong with Oscar? Why would he date yn? And what is this hand placement? Where can I get a yn? Or an oscar?

username: slowly deleting my paragraph

username: had us the first half, ngl

username: yn hide oscar really well during the Spain GP, we leave his safety in your hands

username: THE CURLS OMG

username: MR OSCAR JACK PIASTRI WHAT IS THIS BEHAVIOUR WHAT IS THIS HAND PLACEMENT

[flemingology]

“just because i got you a gift, doesn’t mean I like you” with alexia 🎄

secret santa ─ alexia putellas x reader

part of my christmas series. full masterlist here!

in which: a silly christmas tradition defrosts you and alexia's relationship

warnings: emotionally unavailable alexia is a warning on it's own

wc: 5.1k

a/n: probably one of my favs from the series. hope you enjoy!

Making the move to Barça a couple months ago was a much harder decision to take than some people might think. Admittedly, there are a lot of upsides to playing alongside the best players in the world. The standards are high, the training sessions are good, you're in better shape than you've ever been in and you're steadily growing your trophy cabinet. On the other hand, nothing was harder than leaving your family behind in England.

You grew up in London, a steady youth leading the way towards being picked up by the Arsenal academy, where you went through all the youth groups and eventually got picked for the first team. Everything seemed to be going well, you were playing a good amount of minutes, fitting right in to Arsenal's defensive line. The first couple years you couldn't imagine yourself ever playing for a different team than the Gunners, but an injury-ridden year completely changed that. It started with a few niggles that kept you out of the occasional game, but a couple months into the season you suffered a lateral ligament injury to your right ankle, keeping you out for the best part of 3 months. You tried your best to get back into the squad, but you felt like Arsenal had moved past you.

At 27, still one of the best defenders in the game, you let your agent know that you needed a change. It hadn't been easy for you to come to the conclusion that it was better to leave, but you weren't ready to give up on your career yet. Not when you were supposed to be in your peak years now. Endless meetings, phone calls, late night text messages and a lot of turmoil later, the perfect deal struck. You were starting to feel a bit hopeless in your position, so Barça's offer came at the perfect time.

They expressed how they thought you'd be a perfect fit in their defensive line. Standing tall at 5'7, your aerial threat was one of the things they voiced could be helpful to the team. The contract in itself was perfect. They offered you three years, good pay and they would help you with accommodating to Spain – housing, visa, finances, the club would take care of all of that so you could focus on settling in through your football.

It seemed like a no-brainer, but obviously there were two sides to the story. You were determined to get your career back on the right track, but leaving your family behind in England wasn't an easy decision to make. It took a lot of tearful hugs and heartfelt promises to visit from your family, before you managed to cut the cord completely and sign the contract with the Spanish giants. Nonetheless, you always felt like your family supported all your decisions, and just like you they were certain that this was the right move for your career.

Now 3 months later, if anyone asked you, you would still say that this had been the perfect step. You accommodated to the weather fairly quickly, settled into an apartment that the club had found for you, and took up a couple extra language classes on offer to try and master the Spanish language a bit quicker – you had a basic understanding, and you could manage during games and training sessions, but still struggled here and there.

You'd felt at home within the team, too. It was definitely one of the things that had been on your mind prior to your first training session. You were nervous about whether you were going to be good enough, whether they would deem you worthy enough of wearing the blaugrana colors, but any doubts melted away like snow in the sun when you got invited to a team bonding night right as your first training session ended.

You went out for a meal and drinks in one of Barçelona's hidden gems, one that the girls seemed to love. It was clear that they had been here quite a few times, because the waiter knew some of their orders by heart. You bonded with Ingrid throughout the night, both of you sharing experiences of having to leave your family behind in a different country to play football here. You warmed up to her, she was nice to you and seemed to really like your company, but you stayed a bit distant from the rest of the girls. Everyone was deep in conversation with each other, most of the time conversing in Spanish. You were well aware that they didn't have to involve you in their conversations, you were a 27-year-old adult at last who could stand up for themself, but you found it hard to really integrate fully with the tight group that had seemed to form over the years. From a different point of view, it might've seemed that you were uninterested and not bothered trying to mingle with the rest of the team, but that wasn't the case at all. Although, that wasn't what people picked up. Especially not the captain.

You've not had more than a handful conversations with Alexia, ever since you signed for Barça. In the beginning, you tried putting it off to the fact you both weren't entirely comfortable in the other's language. But as time went on and you got settled more and more into the team, playing more minutes and getting closer to most of the girls, you couldn't just put it down to that anymore. You had tried a couple times in the early days of you transfer to string together a conversation with the Spanish midfielder, but you never got further than the odd "Hola" or "Good game, Ale". You tried to shrug it off, but you couldn't say that it didn't bother you. Alexia seemed open and chatty towards your teammates, but seemed to block off the second you neared within a 5-meter radius from her. And even though you had bonded quite well with her best friend and her girlfriend, they didn't seem to want to say anything about it.

A couple weeks had passed, and you found yourself in a meeting talking about the month ahead. December would be busy, UWCL games ramping up and the league and cup to keep up with. There was a lot of tactical talk going on and while you know you shouldn't, you zoned out a bit, tired from the already long day – and it was far from over. You had an appointment planned with the physios after the meeting, a quick routine check for your ankle, but they would need to take some tests here and there, pushing your relaxing on your couch tonight even further back on the agenda. You got pulled out of your thoughts when the tone in the meeting changed, going from very stern and tactical to a little bit lighter, and it wasn't until you noticed the powerpoint slide that you understood why.

SECRET SANTA

Your eyes widened in surprise and a small smile grew on your lips, a light hum of chatter making it's way through the meeting room as some girls rehashed up some memories from the year before. You hadn't expected secret santa to be a tradition within the Barça squad, but you found it fun. Otherwise so very composed and professional, it was nice to see a different side to the club and the staff.

"Okay, girls! As you can see from the powerpoint slide, we're doing secret santa again this year! Last season went well and we thought we should reintegrate it again. We're going to draw names now in the meeting, and then we'll arrange a date further down the line when we figure out what our schedule will look like." A couple staff members explained the ins and outs a bit further for anyone who had never participated in the lighthearted Christmas tradition, and then the name drawing started. Someone had written everyone's names on little pieces of paper and put them in a bowl, letting it go round the meeting room and having everyone take one. You were sat near the back, so there was only a couple pieces of paper left when it was your turn. You picked one and shielded away from Esmee and Keira who were on either side of you, reading the name that was written on the paper. Mapi Léon. A smile crept on your lips upon reading your defensive partner's name. You didn't give in to Keira’s prying and soon the meeting concluded, sending everyone on their way for the next part of their day.

Most of the girls were headed home now, but you made your way to the physio's office. They checked a couple things and made you do a couple tests, measuring and calculating whatever they deemed necessary to ensure that your ankle was perfectly fine. Lucky for you, it didn't take long as you thought it would. You were the only one that still needed treatment, so the physios were able to round off their checklist for you quite smoothly. You were sent on your way with a pat on the shoulder, telling you to keep it up the way you were doing – both on the pitch and with your ankle. You shrugged it off at the time but you couldn't deny the way it made you feel a little warm inside. You were still quite self-conscious about yourself and your football here in Barçelona, so it was more than welcome to get a compliment about it, especially from someone that isn't the coach.

December was rough. You thought you'd get a little reprieve from cold winters as you now were a bit more south compared to England, but you were fooled. It was cold, it was busy, the training sessions only getting harder as the games ramped up in both domestic competitions and the Champions League. The month felt like it was going on forever but eventually you reached the end. Your final training session of the week, Thursday, but more importantly secret santa day. After you wrapped up both the outside and indoor session, everyone went for a shower and then gathered in the cafeteria. You all had some post-workout food and then got together at one big table, conversation flowing easily as everyone prepared to receive and give their gifts. You were one of the first who had to give their present. You'd gotten Mapi a big batch of her favorite coffee blend, along with a couple different syrups for her to try. You knew she loved her coffee and you hoped she'd be happy with it, but a subtle nudge from Ingrid had set you up in the right way and you were quite certain that the Spaniard would be pleased with your present.

"Oooh, muy bien!" Mapi wore a bright smile as she opened your present, clearly happy with what you bought her. Ingrid and you shared a knowing look before her girlfriend pulled you into a tight hug, pressing a smacking kiss against your cheek in thanks. Your cheeks flushed a little when you realized the two of you were in the centre of attention, quickly sitting back down and letting the afternoon roll on. What you didn't notice, though, whilst you and your defensive partner were sharing an embrace, was the jealous look in Alexia's eye.

Admittedly, she had been cold to you, some would even say it was borderline rude the way she treated you ever since you came in. But she had a reason. And she knew damn well that didn't excuse her behavior, but she couldn't bring herself to either telling you what was on her mind or dropping her cold act. So she kept it going, knowing it made you uncomfortable, although that was the last thing she wanted to do. In reality, Alexia had started developing some feelings for you. None very deep, because how in the world would that be possible based on nothing more than a handful three-sentence conversations, but you had piqued her interest. Your hard-working nature, the way you held yourself, your professionalism – but who would she fool if she said she didn't find you attractive. It might've been the biggest one, even. Alexia felt attracted to you. But by the time she realized that, she'd kept the cold act up for so long that she didn't think there was a way back, so instead of confessing to you she only acted more distant and more cold. She knew she was in the wrong, but an opportunity had popped up to make it up to you and she wasn't going to let it slip.

Time flowed easily, and before you knew it your name was called. Your eyes shot around the room to see who would get up, but seeing her walk over to the pile of presents was the last thing you'd expected. Alexia's light expression that she was wearing earlier, had changed to the stone cold one that she wore whenever she was in close proximity with you. You noticed how neatly wrapped her present was. A beautiful beige wrapping paper, with gold accents here and there, topped off with a small black ribbon. She came to stand beside you, propping one of her arms on the back of your chair, leaning her body over to you and dropping the present on your lap. You were well aware of how close the Spaniard was to you right now, probably closer than she'd ever been. When she didn't say anything, you just went to unwrap the package that was heavy in your lap. You didn't recognize the packaging immediately, but when you realized what was underneath the wrapping paper you could feel a couple tears pricking your eyes.

An array of British snacks and comfort foods sat in your lap, from Cadbury chocolates to Walkers crisps, digestives and so much more. You hadn't expected such a thoughtful present from anyone, especially not Alexia. You quickly wiped away a stray tear that had escaped your eye, quickly standing up and turning your body towards Alexia. "Thank you," you said, not knowing what to do with your hands as you played with the rings on your fingers. You were more than thankful that most of the girls weren't paying attention to the interaction, most of them caught up with their own presents or inspecting what others had gotten. "Can I give you a hug?" You didn't want to overstep any boundaries, but you wanted to thank her appropriately for the present. You'd never voiced to her directly that you missed home, so it was clear that she'd just been paying attention. Maybe more than you thought she had been. Alexia didn't respond verbally but pulled you in a hug, awkwardly patting your back as she didn't know what to do with herself. In reality, she wanted to pull you tight, rub comforting patterns across your back and press a kiss against your crown but she knew that was a place she wouldn't return from. So instead, she did the next best thing; push you further away. "Just because I got you this, doesn't mean I like you."

Your body tensed up at her words and you suddenly noticed the burning sensation of her arms around you, quickly removing yourself from the embrace and sitting back down, nearly giving yourself a whiplash from the sheer force that you backed away from the midfielder with. You'd allowed yourself to get comfortable in the hug, sensing as if you two were crossing a bit of the boundaries that had been present ever since you met one another, but her comment put you right back where you started – maybe even further. The interaction didn't go lost on Mapi, who whispered something in Alexia's ear as she passed the defender to go back to her seat, Mapi clearly angry at her.

You sulked for the remainder of the evening, knowing you were being a pain in the ass but you couldn't bring it in you to care this time. When you said your goodbyes and made your way out of the facility later that evening, you felt a hand tugging you back before you could open the door of your car. Startled by the unexpected touch, you clutched your chest where your heart would be as your eyes met Ingrid's. "Ingrid, don't scare me like that, for god's sake," you said, playfully hitting the Norwegian's shoulder who only laughed at your reaction. The conversation soon took a turn, though, when she mentioned the earlier events. "Hey, about Alexia, I kno-", she started, although you didn't let her finish. "Ingrid, it's fine. She doesn't like me, I get it. I'll just steer clear from her. I don't need it to be told to my face, we can just avoid one another and everything will be fine."

Ingrid closed her eyes and shook her head, placing a hand on your arm that was animatedly waving along as you spoke. "No. God, no. You're so wrong." "I'm wrong? Ingrid, you heard what she said to me. I don't think I need more confirmation than what she verbally told me a couple hours ago." The Norwegian pinched the bridge of her nose and let out a deep sigh, before she spoke up again. "I know this is going to sound weird, but Alexia doesn't hate you. She doesn't dislike you, not at all. It's quite the opposite, if you ask me."

"The opposite?" you asked, a confused lilt in your voice as you urged Ingrid to speak further. "She'll give me hell for telling you this, but I can't just be a bystander to this anymore. She's hurting you." Ingrid took a deep breath and looked you in the eye. "Alexia likes you. And she doesn't know what to do about it. So she does what she does know, and that's pushing you away. I, uhm, agree that it isn't the way she should handle it and certainly not like she did just earlier, but she doesn't know any better." Your thoughts ran rampant in your head, thinking about all the conversations and interactions you had in the past months and gauging whether there was any point where Alexia acted like she liked you, even for a moment. "Ingrid, what the hell are you talking about?" You raised your voice, to which she put a hand on your shoulder, reminding you that you were outside the parking lot just outside the facility. "I know it sounds insane. I didn't believe it either when Mapi told me, but you know she wouldn't lie to her best friend about that. Now, I don't know how you feel about her, but I suggest you talk about it. Because she's been sulking about the situation at our house the last couple weeks and I can't bear it anymore. She has to do something about it, and quick."

"Ingrid, I-" "Y/N. Don't argue with me on this. I don't know how you feel about Alexia, but I know how it's been weighing on you that she's been treating you like this. If anything, it's just an opportunity to clear some of the tension. If you don't want to do it for her, do it for me and Maria." You nodded, begrudgingly, but you nodded nonetheless. You didn't say much more because you needed some time to process what the Norwegian told you, so you sent her away with another promise to text Alexia and then drove home. You took your time that evening to process everything. You thought back to the couple months, and the newfound information still felt like a fever dream. Alexia liked you. Liked liked you. You couldn't say it didn't flatter you. You also couldn't say that some of those feelings weren't mutual, but you'd need some time to explore those. And you'd need lots of time and conversations with Alexia before you could move past the way she treated you the past months. But you were ready to give it a try. So later that night, you sent the Spanish midfielder a text, secretly hoping that Ingrid had notified her that she'd told you, softening the blow a little bit already.

To: Alexia Hey, Alexia. I'm not sure how to approach this, but here goes nothing. I spoke to Ingrid today about us, and about you, I assume she told you this? I don't want to wave this away and say I think the way you treated me is excused now that I know the reason behind it. I know you know that too, and I'd love to talk about that if you are open to do so too. Nonetheless, I was still shocked when Ingrid told me the reasoning behind your behavior. I didn't expect it and it still feels a bit like a fever dream. I'm flattered, even? I'd love to explore it, Ale, but we'll have to talk about some things first.

You sent the message before you could overthink any of your word choices, and plopped down on the couch. You wanted to set your mind to the show that was playing on tv, but you couldn't focus – your thoughts seemingly unable to drift away from Alexia. You thought about what you wanted to say to her, how you wanted to word whatever you were feeling, but right before you could dive in the deep end of your feelings you heard a notification sound coming from your phone, slightly startling you. You picked it up with haste, eager to see what the blonde had replied.

From: Alexia Hola :) I'm sorry you had to find out through Ingrid, that's not fair on you. I know I should've told you and I know I've been childish about it, but I didn't know what to do with myself. I completely understand if my behavior has put a barrier between the two of us, because I've been nothing short of immature. I would love to talk to you about things, because I've been silent about it all for long enough. If you're down, I could call you? I hope you're enjoying your present.

A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips at the mention of her present, glancing over to the basket of snacks that was placed on your coffee table. You grabbed a packet of crisps and sat back on the couch, enjoying the salty snack while you typed a response to Alexia.

To: Alexia It's okay. I can understand where you're coming from, but I'm glad you're acknowledging that it was immature. I loved the present. What you said while I hugged you confused me even further, and I know I was killing the mood after that. I'm sorry for that. But thank you, it means so much to me. I'd love to call, but could you maybe come over instead? I'd prefer it if you were near, but don't worry if you can't. I know it's late and it's been a rough week.

From: Alexia I'll be right there.

You hadn't put your phone down as another message from Alexia chimed in, letting you know she was on her way to your place. You decided not to question how she knew your address, assuming she probably got it from Maria or Ingrid. You quickly freshened up a little, brushing your hair and putting on some fresh clothes, still in your training attire from earlier. You tidied a little, putting dishes in the dishwasher and rearranging your cushions as a knock on your door pulled you out of your thoughts. You opened the door to a sight you thought you'd never see. Alexia was sporting a small smile, a thin layer of sweat present on her face from the rush she was in coming here. In her hands was a small bouquet of red roses, and you wondered where she'd found the time to pick those up along the way. You felt warm inside and ushered the blonde to come inside, not wanting her to be in the cold hallway much longer.

"Hi," you said softly, still feeling a little apprehensive whenever she was around. Old manners died hard. "Hi. These are for you." Alexia stretched her arm out and gave you the bouquet of flowers, which you gratefully took and put in the empty vase on your kitchen counter. "Thank you so much. You know you didn't have to do that but, uhm, they're really nice. Thank you. I still needed some for this vase, clearly," you chuckled, your cheeks flushing slightly red at the loving gesture from the Spanish midfielder. You were still struggling to wrap your mind around the shift in behavior from Alexia, grown very used to her stone cold personality whenever you were around her. It was a very welcome change, but it was one that you'd have to get used to.

"Do you want a drink?" You asked Alexia, who was seemingly lost in thought while she looked around your apartment, taking in her surroundings. You decided to let her do that and fill up two glasses of water for you and her, slowly making your way over to the living room where she was looking through your vinyl collection. "You've settled in nicely, I really like how you decorated your apartment," Alexia said when she heard you shuffling around behind you. A bright smile crept on your face at the compliment. "Thanks. I've spent a lot of time trying to make it look cozy. Being that far away from my family and friends, it's just nice to have a place that feels like home." "I can imagine. I've never moved away from here and I've never had to struggle with something like you are right now, but I can imagine it's not easy at all. You're doing great." You looked away from Alexia's gaze as you felt your cheeks heating up again. "Do you want to sit?" You tried to steer the conversation away from the current topic, earning a nod from Alexia as she sat down on your couch, opposite to you.

You talked for hours on end, the conversation topics ranging from your family to hers, to your move to Barçelona and what sparked it, to how you've been feeling at the club, to eventually the – still slightly apprehensive – relationship between the two of you. Talking to Alexia felt easy, something you never thought you'd say. She was interested, listened with intent and really seemed like wanted to hear what you were saying. She asked questions, tried to understand your views on things and voiced back exactly how she felt. You hadn't expected her to be so open about her feelings after everything that happened the past couple of months, so it was a welcome change for the blonde to put her heart out like that. When you felt like she adequately expressed her feelings about you, you too talked about your own. You said that you really wanted to explore things between you, that you couldn't deny the blonde's charming energy and that you had found yourself gutted with how little the two of you had bonded over your first couple months in Barçelona – more than eager to make up for lost time.

When the night came to an end, you could feel a weight had been lifted from your shoulders, and Alexia felt the same. It had been nothing less than a burden for her to carry around, forever dancing around feelings that she didn't know how to express, pushing you further than she ever wanted to do. She was eternally grateful for the opportunity you were giving her by wanting to talk to her.

"Thank you, honestly. You didn't owe me anything and yet you gave me the chance to explain everything and talk about my feelings. I owe you one." You smiled brightly at Alexia and waved away her comments. "Don't worry about it. We've talked about it, we're okay. I understand where you were coming from. It's fine, Ale, I promise. I'm glad you came to terms with it."

The two of you started to make moves towards your front door, knowing you should end your conversations and call it a day, but with the prospect of a day off tomorrow and no training to wake up for, neither of you really felt the intent to wrap it up. Nonetheless, a couple moments later Alexia found herself in the hallway, leaning against your doorframe as you talked a little more, wrapping up your conversation.

You noticed Alexia looking down at her feet, playing with her fingers before she lifted her head and locked eyes with you again. "I might not be in the position to ask you this right now, but would you maybe want to go on a... date together?" You chuckled at Alexia's nervousness, a slightly red tint covering her cheeks as she spoke. You took one of her hands in yours and nodded fiercely, a smug grin covering your lips. "Yeah, I'd love to. Text me, okay? I'm free whenever." Alexia's smile grew wider with each word you spoke, the Spanish midfielder giddy about the prospect of taking you on a date. "I will. I promise. I should get going now, it's getting late." "You should. Be safe getting home. Have a good night, Ale."

You pressed a soft kiss to Alexia's cheek after wishing her a good night, causing the midfielder to blush deeper than she already had been. She stumbled over her words as she wished you another goodnight, clumsily walking backwards and gripping the handrail as she nearly fell head first on the first step of the stairs of your apartment block. You couldn't hold back the chuckle as you watched Alexia steady herself and rush down the stairs. "Be careful, capi!" you yelled after her, earning nothing more than a grumble and some Spanish curse words that you couldn't make out.

Sticking to her promise, Alexia was way more open with her feelings moving further. You went on a couple dates, you shared a few kisses and before you knew it you were dating. If someone told you that goddamn Secret Santa was what would bring you two closer, and eventually start a relationship, you would've never believed them.

[thef1diary]

A Naughty Gift | D. Ricciardo

Merry Smutmas - Day 6: Secret Santa

warnings: 18+ content, use of vibrator, fingering, best friend!danny

— missed day 5? Read it here by @emchante

© thef1diary 2024. all rights reserved. Do not copy, steal, translate, or repost any of my work

The living room radiates warmth, the soft glow of string lights reflecting off ornaments carefully hung on the Christmas tree. A steady, crackling fire in the fireplace adds to the cozy atmosphere, its warmth mingling with the scent of pine and spiced mulled wine. The chatter of your closest friends fills the air, their laughter blending seamlessly with the holiday playlist humming softly in the background. 

The room is alive with anticipation. You’re seated on the couch, a glass of wine in your hand, your legs curled comfortably beneath you. Around you, your friends settle in—some on couches, others sprawled on the floor with mugs of hot cocoa or cider in hand. The Christmas tree stands proudly in the corner, its base surrounded by an array of colourfully wrapped gifts, each tagged with a name. 

Tonight is the long-awaited secret Santa exchange, a tradition that never fails to bring laughter, surprises, and a few inside jokes to your closest group of friends. Two weeks ago, you all had drawn names from a bowl, each person tasked with finding the perfect gift for their chosen recipient. The mystery of who picked whom has been the topic of countless teasing conversations since, and now, the moment has finally arrived. 

You’re excited to see your friend’s reaction when they open the gift you picked out for them—an item you’d put serious thought into, sure they’d love. But there’s also a nervous energy bubbling beneath your excitement. You have no idea who drew your name from the bowl, and your mind has been running through possibilities all week. Will it be something heartfelt? Funny? Maybe even a little ridiculous? Only time will tell. 

One by one, the gifts are claimed and brought back to their recipients. Each present earns its own reaction—gasps of surprise, peals of laughter, or appreciative murmurs.

The stack beneath the tree shrinks as the night goes on, and the anticipation builds. Finally, it’s your turn. Your heart skips a beat when one of your friends plucks a medium-sized gift from the dwindling pile and passes it to you. The wrapping paper is festive but slightly crooked, as if the effort was rushed or the wrapper wasn’t skilled—it’s impossible to tell which. You let out a soft chuckle, shaking your head at the uneven bow perched on top. 

Balancing the gift on your lap, you spot the tag attached to the ribbon. Beneath your name is a handwritten message in bold, playful script:

For when you need to unwind :) 

Your eyebrows furrow in curiosity. “I’m almost afraid to open this,” you mutter, pulling at the ribbon. 

With careful fingers, you peel back the wrapping paper, the brightly colored patterns giving way to a glossy white box underneath. The moment the text and images on the packaging come into focus, your breath catches in your throat.

Your gasp is audible—and immediate.

Nestled inside is a vibrator, sleek and modern, its packaging professional and uncomfortably clear about its intended use. Your mouth falls open in shock, and for a moment, all you can do is stare at the box, your mind blank.

The room explodes into laughter, your friends practically doubling over as they take in your reaction. You blush furiously, scrambling to pull pieces of the discarded wrapping paper back over the box as if that might somehow undo what just happened. But despite your embarrassment, a laugh escapes your lips, shaky and incredulous.

“Seriously?” you managed, your voice slightly higher than usual as you hold up the box—stil half-covered in the wrapping—for emphasis.

“That’s the next best option if you’re not getting laid!” one of your friends teased, wiping tears of laughter from their eyes. 

“Oh my god,” you groan, burying your face in your hands for a moment before peeking back out at the chaos around you. 

The laughter continues, the jokes coming in waves. 

“Looks like someone’s trying to do you a favour!”

“Now you have no excuse to be cranky.”

You can’t help but laugh along with them, even as your cheeks burn. This wasn’t entirely unexpected; for months, your friends had made a running joke about your supposed sexual frustration. Anytime you were stressed or snappy, the solution was always the same: “You just need to get laid!”

Still, you never imagined getting such a gift from a secret Santa. 

Once the initial uproar dies down, you look around the room, trying to pinpoint who might have been bold enough to give you such an obscene gift. Your friends are still chuckling, tossing jokes back and forth, but as your gaze sweeps over the group, it lands on Daniel, seated across from you. 

Unlike everyone else, he isn’t laughing. His lips curve into a smirk, his dark eyes gleaming with amusement as he watches you, unbothered by the chaos around him.

Your eyes narrow, suspicion flaring. “Daniel,” you say, your voice sharp enough to cut through the lingering laughter.

The room falls silent, everyone turning to look at him. His smirk deepens, and he leans back casually in his chair, his posture oozing confidence.

“What?” he asks, feigning innocence. “I thought you could use something to help you… loosen up a little.”

The room erupts again, louder this time, your friends practically collapsing into each other at the sheer boldness of his comment. You groan, shaking your head, but there’s no hiding the amused smile tugging at your lips.

“You’re unbelievable,” you say, your voice laced with exasperation.

“Unbelievable or thoughtful?” he counters, his tone dripping with mock sincerity.

“You know, I should be offended,” you reply, raising an eyebrow at him. 

“Are you?” comes his immediate response. 

“Still debating it,” you mutter, unable to stop the small chuckle that escapes.

The focus soon shifts as another gift is unwrapped, the group’s attention moving on, but your gaze keeps wandering back to Daniel. The box lies heavy in your lap, the weight of it grounding you in more ways than one.

It’s just a gag gift, you tell yourself, a harmless joke meant to get a laugh out of you. But your mind can’t help but circle back to him. Of all the things he could have picked, why this? And, more importantly, had he thought of you—truly thought of you—when he chose it? The thought sends a shiver down your spine, one you quickly dismiss with a shake of your head.

Needing a distraction, you rise to refill your glass of wine, letting the chatter of your friends fade into the background as you retreat to the kitchen. You’re pouring a generous amount when you hear the soft creak of footsteps behind you.

“You might need more wine than that if you’re trying to forget about my gift,” Daniel’s voice drawled, the teasing tone unmistakable.

You glance over your shoulder to find him leaning casually against the doorframe, his posture relaxed but his eyes watching you intently.

“I’m not trying to forget it,” you say, turning back to your glass. You lift it to your lips, letting the liquid warm you before continuing. “Just need a little liquid courage.”

“To use it?” he asks as he steps closer, his tone light but laced with insinuation.

You turn fully to face him, narrowing your eyes. “Who says I’m going to use it?”

“It’d be a shame if you didn’t,” he replied smoothly, his smirk deepening.

Your heart skips a beat at his audacity, and before you can stop yourself, you blurt, “do you want me to use it?”

His smirk falters for half a second, replaced by something darker, something unreadable. “You’re always so stressed, so uptight. You’d be doing everyone a favour if you did.”

You roll your eyes, slapping his arm playfully. “I didn’t know my lack of… cumming was a group concern,” you muttered, sarcasm dripping from your voice.

His chuckle is low, almost a hum, but his eyes never leave yours.

Taking a sip of your wine, you decide to lean into the humour of it all. “Thanks for the gift, though,” you say, your tone light, playful. “Maybe this thing will finally do the job, considering everything else I’ve tried has been useless.”

Daniel’s expression shifts, his smirk freezing as his eyebrows lift. “Wait, what?”

Your cheeks flush instantly, and you curse yourself for letting that slip. “Nothing,” you mumble, shaking your head as you try to sidestep him.

But his hand darts out, gently grabbing your wrist and holding you in place. His grip is firm but not forceful, and it sends a jolt of electricity up your arm.

“You’re not getting out of this one,” he says, his voice low, laced with curiosity. “What do you mean by that?”

You groan, tipping your head back in exasperation. “I can’t believe I’m telling you, of all people, this.”

“Hey!” he exclaims, feigning hurt but a moment later, his smirk returns, though it’s softer this time, less mocking and more intrigued.

You bite your lip, debating, but the words tumble out before you can stop them. “It’s not voluntary, okay? I just… I can’t make myself, you know… finish. Not with my fingers, not with toys—nothing works. And I’m not exactly dying to hook up with anyone, either.”

His grip on your wrist loosens slightly, but his thumb brushes against your skin, sending another shiver through you. He’s quiet for a moment, processing, before he lets out a soft chuckle.

“Well,” he starts, his voice dropping an octave, “if that’s the case, you’d better give me a review of my gift once you use it.”

Without thinking, without hesitating, you fire back, “Why don’t you see for yourself if it works?”

The second the words leave your mouth, you realize what you’ve just said. His eyes widen, a flicker of surprise crossing his face, but it’s gone as quickly as it came, replaced by something darker, more intense.

His grip tightens slightly, anchoring you in place. The air between you shifts, thick and charged, and for a moment, you wonder if you’ve gone too far. But then, he steps closer, invading your personal space as his lips graze your ear. 

“Careful,” he whispers, his voice low and dangerous. “I might take you up on that.”

Your breath catches, the weight of his words settling over you like a challenge. And for the first time all night, you’re not sure if this is still a joke—or if you want it to be.

The thought had all but left your mind as the night wore on, the air filled with laughter, the buzz of conversation, and the off-key singing of your friends as they belted out holiday tunes. You’d allowed yourself to relax, to forget about Daniel’s provocative words and the gift itself. The glass of wine you’d poured earlier remained untouched on the countertop—a conscious decision to remain completely sober and avoid any further embarrassment in front of him.

As the night began to wind down, your friends trickled out one by one, each hugging you tightly and thanking you for hosting. The energy shifted, quieter now, though still warm and filled with contentment. One of your friends lingered before leaving, her grin mischievous as she nudged you gently.

“Don’t forget about your gift,” she teased, winking. “Tonight might be the perfect time to use it.” 

You laughed it off, waving her out the door, but her words lingered, stirring something deep inside your chest. As the door closed behind her, you let out a quiet breath and turned back to the living room.

Daniel was still there, gathering stray glasses and stacking plates with a practiced ease that made your stomach twist. He always stayed behind to help, his presence in your space as natural as if he belonged there. 

The last of your friends were slowly trickling out, bidding you their goodbyes with hugs and sleepy smiles. It wasn’t long before it was just you and Daniel, the sound of clinking dishes breaking the comfortable silence.

In the kitchen, you were focused on loading the dishwasher when Daniel came up behind you, balancing a few more plates in his hands. His proximity sent a familiar jolt through you, a rush of awareness that made it impossible to ignore him.

As he set the dishes down beside you, the memory of your earlier moment in the kitchen resurfaced and you felt your cheeks warm at the thought, and you stole a glance at him. It seemed like that moment was on his mind too. His expression was unreadable, but the silence stretched between you, thick and charged.

Neither of you brought it up, though, working side by side until the kitchen was spotless. 

He wandered back to the living room right before you, picking up his leather jacket from the couch. But as he moved to sling it over his arm, his eyes landed on the box still sitting on the cushion—the gift, untouched and glaringly present. His head tilted slightly, his lips curling into a faint, knowing smirk.

You weren’t sure what compelled you to speak up, but the words left your mouth before you could stop them. “I was told I should use it tonight.” 

The moment the confession escaped your lips, heat flared across your face. You busied yourself with fixing the cushions on the couches, avoiding his gaze. 

Daniel chuckled softly, the sound drawing your attention back to him despite yourself. “Is that so?” He picked up the box with his free hand, his movements casual. “Are you going to?” He asked, tone laced with intrigue. 

He dropped his jacket back onto the couch, sliding one hand in his pocket as he waited for your response. Your heart was pounding now, and for the life of you, you couldn’t figure out why you were even entertaining this conversation.

Daniel’s smirk widened as he toyed with the box in his hand, his fingers brushing deliberately over the edge of the packaging. His gaze flicked to you, then back to the box, and with a slow, deliberate step, he started closing the space between you.

“What’s the hesitation, huh?” he asked, his voice smooth, teasing. “Scared it’s not going to work? Or are you scared it will?”

You shot him a glare, though it lacked any real heat. “I’m not scared,” you muttered, your voice betraying the slight tremor in your chest.

“No?” He stepped even closer, the vibrator box now dangling lazily from his hand as his eyes roamed your face, searching for cracks in your resolve. “Then what is it? You just like edging yourself, is that it? Letting yourself get so close you can taste it… then ripping it away?”

Your breath hitched, and you instinctively shook your head, the heat in your cheeks spreading down your neck. “I don’t—”

He cut you off with a low chuckle, taking another step until he was standing directly in front of you, the air between you thick and charged. “No?” he pressed, tilting his head. “You’re telling me you spend your nights wound up tight, desperate, trying to finish but never quite getting there?”

You swallowed hard, your voice barely above a whisper. “I need to,” you admitted, the words spilling out before you could think twice. “I need to cum. So badly.”

Daniel’s smirk deepened, his gaze darkening as his free hand came up to brush a strand of hair away from your face, his touch lingering for just a second too long. “Then you should use it tonight,” he murmured, his voice dipping lower, more intimate. “Get yourself off, let go for once. But…”

He paused, the corner of his mouth twitching as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear. “Maybe what you really need is another pair of hands.”

“Daniel…” you whispered, your voice trembling, unsure if it was a protest or an invitation.

He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, the teasing smirk never leaving his lips. “Say it,” he said softly, the challenge clear in his tone. “And I’ll make sure you finally get what you need.”

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, time seemed to still. Daniel stood close, so close you could feel the heat radiating off him, his dark eyes locked on yours like he was daring you to make the next move. 

You nodded, the motion small but deliberate, your lips brushing against his as if testing the waters. The faintest whisper escaped you, desperate. “Please, Danny, make me cum.” 

That was all it took.

Daniel surged forward, his hand sliding around the back of your neck as his lips crashed against yours with a force that made your knees weak. The kiss was fiery, intense, and filled with a hunger that had been simmering beneath the surface all night. His other hand dropped the box unceremoniously onto the couch, coming up to grip your jaw, guiding your movements.

You gasped into his mouth as his tongue slipped past your lips, deepening the kiss. Your heart raced as Daniel’s mouth moved against yours, eliciting a hunger from within you that made your knees weak. His tongue teased yours, pulling soft, desperate noises from the back of your throat. 

Daniel’s hands found your waist, steady and firm as he guided you backward until the edge of the couch caught the backs of your knees. A gentle push sent you down onto the cushions, your breath hitching as he towered over you. His gaze, dark and filled with intent, flicked to the discarded box on the couch beside you. Without breaking eye contact, he reached for it, the tearing sound of the packaging loud in the charged silence.

“Go on, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice low and commanding, sending a shiver down your spine. His fingers worked at the box with practiced ease, pulling out the sleek vibrator that gleamed faintly in the dim light. He held it up for a moment, his smirk deepening as he glanced back at you. “Strip for me,” he said, the words carrying a weight that made your stomach flutter.

Your hands moved instantly, almost on instinct, tugging at the hem of your shirt and pulling it over your head. You fumbled with the waistband of your pants next, your eagerness only adding to the heat building between you. 

Daniel knelt in front of you once you were bare for him. His hands found your ankles, warm and strong, as he pulled your legs over his broad shoulders, his stubble grazing the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. The couch cushions dipped under your weight, but all you could focus on was the way he leaned in, the heat of his breath just inches away from your cunt. 

“Look at you,” he murmured, almost as if speaking to your glistening cunt rather than to you. “So wet already… Were you this desperate before, or is this just for me?”

You opened your mouth to answer, but no words came out. Your throat felt dry, your body so keyed up you could barely breathe. He grinned, clearly pleased by your speechlessness, and leaned in just close enough that his breath ghosted over your folds. The sensation made you shiver, your body straining toward him of its own accord.

His warm breath fanned over your slick heat, and you swore you could feel every word as he spoke. “You’ve been needing this, haven’t you? So worked up, so desperate to let go.”

Your mouth fell open in response, a soft whimper escaping as his fingers slid up your inner thigh, his touch featherlight but enough to make you arch into him. Two fingers came to rest against your folds, spreading you gently. The simple act, something you’d done countless times to yourself, now felt like an entirely new experience under his hands.

He dragged his thumb upward, deliberately brushing against your clit in the faintest tease, a mere suggestion of pressure that sent jolts of electricity racing through you. Your hips bucked involuntarily, a soft, pleading whimper slipping from your lips.

“Daniel,” you breathed, your voice shaky with need. “Please, I need to—”

“Shh,” he interrupted, his tone smooth, teasing. His lips curled into a smirk as his thumb circled your clit again, just barely grazing the swollen nub. “Needy, aren’t you?” He chuckled softly, the sound reverberating through you. “You’ve been so patient. Let me enjoy this for a moment.”

Your head fell back against the couch, your thighs trembling over his shoulders. The teasing was excruciating, his touch featherlight and agonizingly slow, keeping you on the edge without giving you the relief you so desperately craved. Another whine escaped you, and he chuckled again, clearly amused by your desperation.

“Do you know how pretty you sound when you beg?” he murmured, his voice low and rich. “But don’t worry. That’s what I’m here for. Me and this little gift of mine.”

Before you could respond, Daniel leaned in, his warm breath ghosting over your core before his tongue dragged a slow, deliberate stripe along your folds. The sudden wet heat of his mouth made you gasp, your back arching off the couch as he pulled back with a hum of satisfaction.

“Sweet,” he muttered, his lips brushing against your inner thigh as he spoke. “Perfect.”

Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath, but there was no time to recover. He brought the vibrator into view, the sleek toy gleaming in the dim light. “Let’s see how well this works, hmm?”

He pressed the tip of the vibrator against your clit, still teasing, still maddeningly light. Then, with a click, he turned it on. The sudden vibration against your sensitive flesh was like a jolt of electricity, and you cried out, your hips jerking upward as pleasure shot through your body.

The sensation was familiar yet utterly foreign, amplified by the fact that you weren’t in control. You didn’t know what was coming next, couldn’t anticipate his movements, and it left you completely at his mercy.

Daniel pressed the vibrator more firmly against your clit, his eyes fixed on your face as he watched your reactions with a wicked grin. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” he asked, his voice thick with satisfaction. “You’re so sensitive, love. Look at how you’re shaking.”

Your legs quivered over his shoulders, your body trembling under the relentless stimulation. Just when you thought it couldn’t get more intense, his fingers returned, parting your folds once more. The wetness there made it easy for him to slide one finger inside you, then another, the intrusion smooth and deliberate.

You moaned loudly, your hands clutching at the couch cushions as the dual sensations overwhelmed you. The vibrator against your clit and his fingers inside you created a perfect rhythm, each movement pushing you closer to the edge.

“Daniel,” you gasped, your voice breaking as the pressure built inside you, coiling tighter and tighter.

The vibrator hummed steadily against your clit, Daniel’s fingers curling inside you with a precision that made your back arch. The pressure built higher and higher, and you trembled, caught between the unbearable pleasure and the tension coiling in your stomach.

This was always the point where you faltered, the moment where the pleasure grew so overwhelming, so maddeningly close, only to slip away. Every time you’d done this to yourself, your fingers had failed to push you past that invisible barrier. It was like chasing a mirage, just out of reach, leaving you frustrated and aching for more.

The memory of all those failed attempts made your chest tighten. You bit your lip, your moans softening, and Daniel noticed the subtle shift in your body. His movements slowed slightly, and his dark eyes flicked up to your face.

“Hey, pretty girl,” he murmured, his voice smooth and commanding, yet somehow soothing. His fingers stilled inside you for a moment, and he leaned in closer, brushing his lips against your thigh. “Don’t go shy on me now. I can feel how close you are.”

You whimpered, your lips parting to speak, but Daniel didn’t give you the chance. His grin turned wicked as his fingers curled again, this time pressing deep against a spot that had your breath catching in your throat.

“Look at you,” he rasped, his voice low and filthy. “Dripping for me. You’re so tight, sweetheart—so desperate to let go. Don’t fight it. You’re mine to ruin tonight.”

The vibrator pressed harder against your clit as he notched up the intensity. The sensation made you cry out, your hips bucking against his hand, but Daniel held you firm, his grip possessive.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he stated, his tone dark and teasing. “Not until I’ve wrung every last bit of that tension out of you. I want to feel you shake for me, hear you scream my name.”

His fingers thrust into you with deliberate precision, and he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your cunt. “You’re going to cum for me, sweetheart,” he said, his voice dripping with sin. “And when you do, you’re going to fucking thank me for it.”

The vibrator buzzed relentlessly against your clit, and his fingers kept up their steady rhythm, hitting a spot that constantly made you see stars. Your body writhed on the couch, every nerve on fire, as the pleasure built to an unbearable peak.

“You like that, don’t you?” Daniel’s voice was a low growl, his lips brushing against your trembling thigh. “Being completely at my mercy? Taking exactly what I give you? That’s it, pretty girl. Stop thinking. Just feel me.”

His words broke through your haze of overthinking, and you let go, surrendering completely. The coil inside you snapped, sending you spiraling into an orgasm so intense it left you shaking, his name spilling from your lips like a prayer.

Daniel stayed with you through it, his touch unrelenting but steady, drawing out every wave of pleasure until you were left trembling, spent, and utterly undone beneath him.

Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath, your thighs trembling over Daniel’s broad shoulders. The vibrator slowed but didn’t stop, sending smaller, teasing jolts through your sensitive clit. His fingers withdrew carefully, and you whimpered at the loss, your body still pulsing from the aftershocks.

He straightened, his hands gripping your thighs firmly as he lowered your legs from his shoulders, guiding them down to wrap around his hips instead. Rising to his full height, Daniel moved onto the couch, the cushions dipping under his weight as he hovered over you. 

“You’re a fucking masterpiece,” he murmured, his voice deep and rough as he braced one arm on the back of the couch, the other trailing down to grip your jaw gently. “Look at you, trembling for me. Completely wrecked—and I’m not even close to being done with you.” 

His gaze was magnetic, holding yours captive as his lips hovered just above yours, a breath away. The heat of his body pressed against yours, his hips brushing yours in a way that made you gasp, your body instinctively arching toward him despite your exhaustion.

Your eyes widened as his words registered, your mind spinning as his intentions became clear. A fresh wave of heat pooled in your stomach, your body responding despite how utterly spent you felt.

“Oh, that’s right, sweetheart,” Daniel said, his lips curling into a wicked, filthy grin. “I’m going to make up for all those times you had to edge yourself, all the times you were so fucking close but couldn’t quite get there. That’s over now.”

He dipped his head, brushing his lips along the curve of your jaw, his stubble scraping against your heated skin and leaving a delicious burn in its wake. His hand slid down your body, fingers grazing your waist before gripping your thigh possessively. “You’re going to cum on my fingers again, on my tongue, on my cock—over and over until you’re wrecked, until you can’t even remember what it felt like to want more. I’ll make sure you’re completely satisfied, sweetheart.”

His teeth grazed the shell of your ear, his voice dropping even lower, rough with desire. “And I won’t stop until you’re a mess beneath me, begging for mercy or for more.” 

Taglist: @lilorose25 @thenotoriouserg @a-distantdreamer @leclercsluvs @fat-meh @wintxr-widow @amirahart @alishamai @rendezvoushn

[ddolbyong]

cosmos | l.hc

summary: every valentine's day, a mysterious stranger sends you a heartfelt message, professing their timeless and unwavering love for you

pairing: lee haechan x gn!reader

genre: one-shot, fake texts, fluff, humour

notes: fun fact some of the texts were written by my friend for my birthday a few years ago :,) anywaysss i hope you enjoy and feedback, likes, reblogs n replies are appreciated!!!

[rafeskai]

Life as We Know It — Rafe Cameron

Chapter Two

Two opposites must navigate love, loss, and unexpected parenthood to discover the meaning of family.

Summary: When tragedy strikes, two very different individuals find their lives unexpectedly intertwined as they become the guardians of an orphaned child. As they navigate the challenges of co-parenting, balancing careers, and confronting their pasts, they discover that family can form in the most surprising ways. Through heartfelt moments and unexpected humor, they explore what it means to build a life together—one step at a time.

Pairings: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Character deaths & angst.

Author's Notes: Inspired by the movie "Life as We Know It"!

Masterlist: Here

It had been three days since you’d found yourself in Rafe’s house, a place that now felt more like a cage than a refuge. You hadn’t had much time to adjust to the new reality. Between the funeral, the endless meetings with lawyers and child services, and the sudden responsibility of Willa, everything seemed to blur together in a haze of exhaustion.

You had told yourself you’d stay at the house more often, that you’d help Rafe get into a routine with Willa, but the sheer weight of everything had left you in a constant state of uncertainty. It wasn’t just that you were suddenly her guardian, it was that you were also navigating a delicate, complicated dynamic with Rafe. Every time you thought you had a handle on things, another obstacle seemed to rise up in front of you.

But life didn’t stop, and the bills still needed to be paid. So, you found yourself at the local café by 7 a.m. every morning, working the early shift as if it were a lifeline to some semblance of normalcy. The smell of fresh coffee and pastries helped ground you, a comfort amidst the chaos.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

That morning, you found yourself staring blankly at the coffee machine, lost in thought as you tried to get a fresh batch brewing. Willa’s laugh echoed in your mind, that small, joyful sound she’d made when you’d managed to make her smile that morning at Rafe’s house. But then there was Rafe—his disheveled hair, his barely-contained frustration as he tried to make breakfast, as if he were a stranger in his own life.

You shook the thoughts away, focusing on the task at hand. You couldn’t afford distractions right now.

"Hey, [Y/N], you okay?" Jess, your co-worker, asked as she slid into the back room, eyeing you with concern. Jess had been your friend since you started working at the café, and while she wasn’t a mind reader, she could always tell when something was off.

You nodded quickly, putting a smile on your face. "Yeah, just a little tired. You know how it is."

She raised an eyebrow, but didn’t press further. "Well, the morning rush is about to hit, and we’re already behind, so I’ll let you catch up. Just take it easy when you can, alright?"

You offered a grateful smile, trying to ignore the tightness in your chest. Jess had a way of reading you, and the last thing you wanted was to let her know the extent of what you were juggling.

The morning rush came and went, the familiar frenzy of orders, refills, and people coming and going. By noon, the crowd thinned, and you finally got a break. You slipped into the back room, sitting on one of the crates as you checked your phone, hoping for a distraction.

You had a few missed texts, mostly from Sarah’s family offering condolences, a few work-related messages, and then... one from Rafe.

Can you come over tonight? Willa’s been fussy all day. I can’t figure out what she wants.

You stared at the message for a moment, your thumb hovering over the screen. You’d been trying to keep your distance from Rafe, only coming over when absolutely necessary, and still, he was asking for help. He hadn’t exactly been forthcoming with his emotions, but there was something about the way he’d written this message that gave you pause.

You knew it wasn’t just about Willa—it never had been. There was still tension between you and Rafe, an unspoken rift that neither of you had quite figured out how to cross. Yet, here he was, reaching out.

You sighed, rubbing your temples. You’d been trying to balance it all—work, helping Rafe, and processing the grief that seemed to be dragging you under—but it wasn’t easy. You needed to be there for Willa, but you also needed to keep your job, and your sanity.

After a moment of contemplation, you typed out a reply. I’ll be there around six. I can stay for a few hours.

You didn’t know what you expected, but you sure as hell didn’t expect the quick response. 

Thanks. I’ll make dinner. She’s been restless.

You felt a strange knot form in your stomach at the offer. Dinner? From Rafe Cameron? A part of you wanted to laugh, but another part—an irrational, confusing part—wondered if this was his way of trying to do something right, for once.

The rest of your shift passed in a blur. You tried to focus on the coffee orders and the chatter of the customers, but all you could think about was Rafe and the odd, fragile dynamic that had begun to take root.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

By the time you pulled into Rafe’s driveway later that evening, you could feel the exhaustion settling deep into your bones. But Willa needed you, and whether or not you wanted to admit it, Rafe did, too.

You took a deep breath before getting out of your car, trying to mentally prepare yourself for whatever awaited inside.

The house looked even bigger at night, the lights from the interior casting long shadows across the front yard. As you walked up the stone path, you noticed the faint scent of something cooking—garlic, herbs... something surprisingly warm and inviting.

When you stepped inside, the familiar coldness of the house hit you, but this time, there was something different. The warmth of a home-cooked meal filled the air, and for the briefest moment, it almost felt like things could be normal again.

Rafe was in the kitchen, his sleeves rolled up as he stood over the stove. He looked up when you entered, a slight tension in his posture as if he was still waiting for you to call him out on some unseen mistake.

“Hey,” you said quietly, watching him carefully. “Dinner smells good.”

He nodded, but didn’t meet your eyes. “It’s nothing fancy. Just pasta, I—uh, thought it might help if she had something warm.” His voice faltered, just a little, but he quickly recovered.

You glanced over at Willa, who was in her high chair, her small hands gripping the edge of the tray as she watched Rafe. She looked so small in the expansive room, and the sight hit you in a way you weren’t prepared for.

You walked over to her, gently picking her up from the chair. “Hey, little one,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

Rafe turned away from the stove, his hands gripping the counter as he stared down at the floor. "I don't know what I'm doing. She won’t stop crying, and I... I don’t get it."

You felt a pang of sympathy, despite everything. You moved toward him, your voice soft. “It’s okay. You’re doing fine. It’s all new for both of us. You don’t have to have all the answers.”

Rafe looked up at you, his expression tense but vulnerable. "Yeah. I guess I just... I want to do right by her. I don’t want to screw this up."

You nodded, the weight of his words sinking in. 

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The sound of Willa’s cries echoed through the vast kitchen, filling the space with a noise that felt almost too loud for the house. She was tiny, yet her cries were fierce, relentless. It had been over an hour, and you were beginning to feel like you were running out of options. You had tried everything.

You’d fed her, changed her, rocked her. But no matter what you did, she wouldn’t stop. Willa’s little fists clenched and her body writhed in your arms, the tears never slowing, never quieting.

“Come on, Willa,” you muttered, trying to soothe her with the kind of gentle rocking you’d seen Sarah do a million times. But nothing worked. You glanced over at Rafe, who was standing across the kitchen with his arms crossed, looking both helpless and frustrated.

“I don’t get it,” he muttered under his breath, running a hand through his already messy hair. “Why the hell won’t she stop?”

You didn’t have an answer. Honestly, you didn’t know why she was crying, either. She had been fine all afternoon, playing with her toys, laughing when you made funny faces at her. But now, she was inconsolable, and it was starting to tear at your patience—and Rafe’s too.

You rocked Willa more gently, trying to keep calm. "I don’t know," you said softly, your voice low and soothing. “Maybe it’s... something else. She could be tired, or maybe she’s just upset. Babies have their moods.” You spoke from experience, but your words felt thin in the moment. You hadn’t expected to be thrown into this role, and you were starting to feel every bit of the weight of it.

Rafe glanced at you, his brow furrowing. “Do you think she’s sick?” he asked, his voice laced with genuine concern.

You shook your head. "I don't think so... I mean, she doesn’t have a fever. Maybe it's just... a bad moment." You were doing your best to sound confident, but even you didn’t believe the words you were saying.

Willa’s cries intensified, her tiny body wriggling in your arms, making it even harder to calm her. Your chest tightened with frustration, helplessness. It was hard enough to balance everything with the weight of the situation, but right now? You felt completely out of your depth.

“I don’t know what else to do,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. You looked over at Rafe, who hadn’t moved an inch since you started holding Willa. His face was tight, his eyes narrowed in frustration, but there was something else there, too—something you hadn’t expected: vulnerability.

He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it. After a few more seconds of Willa’s crying, he finally broke the silence.

“Maybe I could try,” he offered, his voice a bit softer, tentative.

You were surprised at the offer. You’d never seen Rafe with kids—never even imagined him with a child this young. But there was something in the way he said it, a quiet desperation, that made you nod.

“Yeah. Try.” You handed Willa to him, careful not to jostle her too much as she continued to wail. She was still kicking her legs, her face scrunched up in distress.

Rafe hesitated for just a second before adjusting her in his arms, awkwardly holding her against his chest. His expression was uncertain, like he wasn’t quite sure what to do with this tiny person who was now his responsibility.

“Hey, Willa,” Rafe said softly, his voice surprisingly gentle. “It’s okay. You’re safe. We got you.”

He bounced her lightly, just enough to make her feel the rhythm of his movements. For a moment, nothing changed. Willa’s cries didn’t soften, but Rafe didn’t seem to mind. His focus was entirely on her, like he was determined to make it work.

You watched him for a moment, trying not to show your surprise. You didn’t think you’d ever see Rafe in this light. The way he moved, the way he spoke to Willa—there was something different in his tone, something real.

But the crying didn’t stop. Willa’s cries just seemed to escalate, as though she was testing him, testing you both.

Rafe gritted his teeth, adjusting his hold on her again, more firmly this time. “Alright, little one,” he muttered under his breath, his voice still trying to stay calm despite the rising frustration. "We’re gonna get this right. I swear."

He then shifted, trying a different approach, gently patting her back. He’d seen Sarah do it before, you knew, but it still felt foreign coming from him.

You, not sure what else to do, knelt beside him, trying to be as calm and soothing as possible. You placed a hand gently on Willa’s leg. “Shh… Willa, sweetie, it’s okay,” you cooed, matching Rafe’s rhythm.

And then, something unexpected happened. Slowly, gradually, Willa’s cries began to soften. Her body stopped wriggling as much, her little fists loosened. It wasn’t immediate, and it wasn’t magic, but her wails started to turn into quiet sobs, then sniffling, then, finally, she rested her head against Rafe’s chest.

You exhaled a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.

"See?" you said softly, your heart still racing. "I told you it was just a moment."

Rafe, his face still a bit tense but now with a faint trace of relief, looked down at Willa. Her eyelids fluttered as she finally, finally, drifted off to sleep.

“I don’t get it,” he said quietly, shaking his head. “I tried everything, but... she calms down when you do that. When we’re both here.”

You shrugged, feeling the exhaustion in your own body. “Sometimes... it just takes both of us. Babies are unpredictable.” You didn’t know what else to say, because, truth be told, you didn’t really understand it either. But you knew one thing for sure—despite your differences, despite the chaos, this was something you could do together.

Rafe shifted his weight, still holding Willa carefully. “Thanks,” he said quietly, as if he hadn’t just gone through a whirlwind of frustration. It was brief, but there was sincerity in his voice. “I didn’t think... I mean, I wasn’t sure I could handle this.”

You glanced up at him, and for the first time in a long time, you saw something different in his eyes—something that wasn’t defiance or anger, but something closer to gratitude.

“You’re not alone in this,” you said softly. “We’ll figure it out, one step at a time.”

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The house had fallen into a strange stillness after Willa finally settled into bed, her little form bundled up in the crib, tucked in for the night. The hours of chaos, the endless crying, the uncertainty—it had all melted into a tense kind of quiet that felt almost too heavy to breathe through. You and Rafe were both exhausted, physically and emotionally, but the weight of the situation hadn’t lightened one bit.

You leaned against the counter in the kitchen, your fingers wrapped around a mug of warm tea, trying to find some semblance of calm. The silence was comforting in a way, but also suffocating. You and Rafe hadn’t exchanged many words since Willa had fallen asleep. There had been a brief moment where you’d both sat at the kitchen table, exhausted, sipping coffee in silence, but now it felt like the quiet was pressing in from all sides.

Rafe was standing by the window, his arms crossed, looking out into the darkened yard. He had been quiet for a while, but you could feel his presence like a weight in the room. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he spoke.

"You know," he began, his voice low but firm. "I’ve been thinking. Maybe it would be better if you just moved in here."

You froze, your fingers tightening around the mug in your hands. "What?" You turned to face him, the surprise evident in your voice. "What are you talking about? Why would I—"

He cut you off, not giving you a chance to react. "Look, we’re both her guardians now, right? I get it—you have your life, your job, but you can’t keep going back and forth between here and the café. Willa needs us both, and we both need to be there for her."

You blinked, trying to process his words. "That’s... a huge thing to suggest, Rafe." You shook your head, stepping away from the counter, moving to the other side of the room. "You think it’s easy for me? You think I don’t have a life outside of this? I’ve got my job, my own responsibilities. I can’t just—move in here."

He turned, his gaze sharp as he watched you. "I’m not saying it would be permanent, but Willa... she’s not going to be okay if we’re both stressed out all the time. You’re already running yourself ragged. This way, you wouldn’t have to go back and forth. You could be here when she needs you, and you wouldn’t have to worry about missing shifts or running out of time."

You felt your pulse quicken, frustration creeping in. "You don’t get it, do you? It’s not just about time. This is my life, Rafe. I’m not just going to—what?—move in with you? Because that’s what you think is best?"

Rafe’s face hardened. "It’s not about what I think is best, [Y/N]. It’s about what Willa needs. You think it’s easy for me, either? I didn’t sign up for this. But here we are, and we both have to step up. We both have to make sacrifices."

Your breath hitched, your voice shaking with the weight of it all. "You think I haven’t thought about that? But this isn’t just about ‘stepping up,’ Rafe. This is about our lives. You can’t just dictate how things are going to work because you suddenly want to play house. I’m not some—"

"Not some what?" he snapped, cutting you off, his jaw tightening as his temper flared. "You think I’m asking for you to live with me because it’s some great idea? I’m trying to help you. You can’t keep doing this alone, and neither can I."

You felt a sting of anger rise in your chest, the frustration of everything spilling out. "I don’t need you to help me, Rafe. I don’t need you to fix everything. I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t ask for any of this!"

There was a long, painful silence that hung between you both, a tension that had been building ever since that damn phone call, and now, it seemed like it might tear everything apart.

Rafe exhaled sharply, his shoulders sagging slightly as the heat of his anger cooled into something more complicated, more raw. "I’m not trying to fix everything," he muttered, his voice quieter now, laced with frustration. "I’m just trying to do the right thing. I didn’t ask for any of this, either, but I can’t keep pretending it’s just going to work if we’re both barely holding on. You need help. I need help."

Your heart ached at the words, and for a brief moment, you thought you saw the cracks in his armor, the vulnerability he tried so hard to hide. But you pushed it aside, unwilling to let the floodgates open.

"I don’t need you, Rafe," you repeated, more firmly now. "I need to figure out how to do this on my own. We’re both her guardians, but I’m not going to make this—whatever this is—worse by complicating it. I can’t just move in here and pretend like that makes everything better."

His face tightened, the walls going back up, the Rafe you knew slipping behind his defenses. "Fine," he said, his voice flat. "Then keep living your life. Keep juggling it all, and see how far that gets you."

You shook your head, your words coming out in a rush. "You think this is easy for me? You think I don’t care? I care, Rafe. But this isn’t just about what’s easiest for you, or me, or anyone else. It’s about Willa. And right now, she needs more than just two people fighting over what’s best for her. She needs stability. She needs peace."

Rafe was silent for a long moment, the tension still thick in the room. His eyes flickered to the hallway where Willa’s room was, the soft rise and fall of her tiny chest visible through the crack of the door. His face softened for just a fraction of a second, but then he steeled himself again.

"Yeah," he said, his voice quieter now, though there was still a trace of frustration. "She needs peace. And maybe you’re right. Maybe this isn’t the right call." He turned his back to you, his body tense as if he was still holding onto something you couldn’t see.

You felt your anger begin to ebb, replaced by a quiet weariness that settled deep in your chest. You wanted to argue more, to fight for your space, for your independence. But the truth was, Rafe’s idea, crazy as it seemed, did make some sense. And yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to agree.

You stayed silent, the space between you growing more and more uncomfortable, until Rafe finally broke the stillness.

"I guess we’ll just have to figure it out, huh?" he said, his voice distant.

You nodded, though you weren’t sure if you were agreeing with him—or just acknowledging the mess you’d both gotten into.

"Yeah," you whispered. "I guess so."

And for the first time in a long time, the silence between you both wasn’t just filled with tension. It was filled with uncertainty.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ 

It had been weeks since the argument, weeks since you and Rafe had first clashed over what was best for Willa, what was best for the two of you. You’d spent those weeks bouncing between your place, Rafe’s, and the café, and with each passing day, it was becoming more and more clear that you couldn’t keep it up. You were running on fumes, your mind spinning with the constant demands of work, the responsibilities of being Willa’s guardian, and the weight of your personal life crumbling under the strain.

You couldn’t do it anymore.

It was a quiet morning when you finally made the decision. The sun had barely risen, casting a soft, golden glow across the living room of your small house. You hadn’t been home in days, had barely slept in your own bed. Willa was still adjusting to the routine, and the nights at Rafe’s were becoming more frequent. The constant back and forth was wearing you down.

You stood at the kitchen counter, staring at the coffee mug in your hand, the warmth barely reaching you. It was still early, and the sound of Rafe’s truck hadn’t yet filtered through the house. But today, you had to make it right.

You had to admit you couldn’t juggle it all.

The idea of moving in had been haunting you for days, but admitting it was another thing entirely. Rafe’s offer wasn’t just about practicality—it was about more than that. About Willa, about what you and Rafe were going to have to become for her. You’d been resisting it, pushing it away because it felt like giving up control of your life. But you knew you couldn’t keep going on this way.

And so, you made your decision.

When Rafe finally walked through the front door a few hours later, his presence filled the space like it always did—big, heavy, almost too much to ignore. He didn’t say anything at first, just kicked off his boots and moved to the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water before leaning against the counter, his gaze flickering over to you.

“You good?” he asked, his voice low but not unkind.

You set your mug down, taking a deep breath before you spoke. “I’ve been thinking,” you said, your voice steady but with an undercurrent of hesitation. “And I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep bouncing between my place, yours, and work. It’s... it’s too much.”

Rafe’s brow furrowed slightly. “So what does that mean?”

You met his gaze, the weight of what you were about to say pressing down on you. “I’m going to move in. I can’t juggle all of this alone. But there are some conditions.”

Rafe tilted his head, his eyes narrowing just slightly in curiosity. “Conditions?” he echoed, a hint of skepticism in his voice. “Like what?”

You took a breath and laid it out, clear and firm. “First, I’m not giving up my job at the café. I need that. I need a space where I can breathe and do something for myself. I’m going to be there on my shifts, but I won’t be running myself into the ground. So, we need to find a rhythm that works. I can’t just be at home all day, every day. I have my own life, too.”

Rafe nodded slowly, processing the first part. “Okay. Makes sense.” He crossed his arms, waiting for the rest.

“Second,” you continued, your voice unwavering. “I’m not going to just be a ‘housewife’ or whatever. I need to be treated as an equal, I’m her legal guardian too, not some babysitter. I’ll help with Willa, but I can’t take on the full load. If we’re doing this, we’re both sharing it.”

Rafe didn’t argue with that. He gave a slight nod, the corners of his mouth twitching as if he were preparing for the next condition.

“And third,” you added, stepping forward, your gaze never leaving his. “We set some boundaries. This is for Willa. We’re doing this for her, but I’m not moving in here for any other reason. We need to keep things professional—for her sake. I’m not moving in here just to... make things weird.” You paused, feeling the tension rise between you. “If we’re doing this, it’s for Willa. Nothing more, nothing less.”

There was a long silence between you two as Rafe absorbed your words. He was silent for a moment, then exhaled through his nose, a sound of reluctant agreement. “Fair enough,” he said. “I can deal with that. We both need to be in this equally. No one person doing more than the other.” He glanced over at you, a little more seriously now. “And about the boundaries... I’m not trying to make this any more complicated than it has to be. I get it. You’re here to help with Willa, and I’m not going to make that weird.”

It was strange, the way things were shifting between you both. There was a subtle shift in his tone, something closer to understanding. As much as Rafe might have wanted to fight you on it, you knew he respected the fact that you were being clear about your limits.

“So, what now?” he asked, breaking the silence. “You move in today?”

You nodded. “Yeah. But, you’ll have to help me get my stuff together. I’m not just leaving everything behind, Rafe.” You allowed a small, almost imperceptible smile to tug at the corner of your lips. “You’re not getting off that easy.”

Rafe smirked, the tension breaking between you two for the first time in weeks. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll help. Just don’t expect me to pack your clothes.”

You laughed quietly, feeling the weight on your chest lift just a little. “I don’t need you to pack my clothes. I just need you to be... not a pain in the ass while I get settled in.”

Rafe raised an eyebrow. “No promises there.”

You shook your head, a soft chuckle escaping your lips. It was a step in the right direction, you told yourself. A step toward figuring out how to make this new life work.

Maybe it wasn’t going to be easy. Maybe it would take time, patience, and more compromises than you had ever imagined. But one thing was clear: you couldn’t do this on your own. And maybe, just maybe, with Rafe by your side, you could figure out what it meant to be a family, even if it wasn’t the family you’d ever expected.

With a deep breath, you took the first step.

"Alright," you said. "Let’s go get my stuff."

© 2024 rafeskai | All rights reserved. This fanfiction is a work of fiction inspired by characters from Outer Banks, and no part of it may be reproduced or distributed without permission.

[earthtooz]

x : NO FEAR :*+ﾟ i wanna love you with no fear !

in which: itoshi rin rejected you, so why isn't he handling your avoidance well?

warnings: 5k wc, fluff with minor angst, jealous!rin, food cw, swearing, reo is reader's best friend, COLLEGE!AU, gn!reader, non-canon complaint

a/n: happy valentine's day !!! shoutout to @ryekoo for finally giving me inspo on what to do for the rin fic of my event - u rly saved my life <3

↳ 5K EVENT MASTERLIST ༉‧₊

you:i’m going to end you. <reo3: i’m too pretty to die ._. you: and you told me i was too pretty for itoshi rin to reject!?!?!?! <reo3: oh... <reo3: i’m sorry. <reo3: condolences fr.

with a disappointed sigh, you pocket your phone, decidedly ignoring the next few messages that reo sends as you wait for your bus. he owes you a million yen for the amount of grief and distress he’s currently putting you through, especially with the way he shattered all hopes you had with your love life.

well, hopes that you were stupid enough to feed into because this was itoshi rin you’re talking about; possibly the most standoffish, calculated, and devastatingly gorgeous man you’ve ever met in your life. yet, despite his detestable personality, you still found yourself falling hook, line, and sinker for the man, despite his insults, cold comments, and dismissive attitude.

maybe it’s masochism. 

now that you look back on it, rin’s rejection seemed almost inevitable. even if you lead yourself to hope with all the times you caught him staring at you, the prompt replies to your messages, and willingness to somewhat tolerate you during group projects, it was rather obvious that this would be the outcome to your heartfelt confession. 

‘i don’t see you like that’.

it’s cringeworthy simply thinking about it. now you’re going to have another memory that’ll haunt you for the rest of your life.

recalling the expression he made after your confession; eyebrows scrunched and lips tugged into a slight frown, was traumatising enough for you to wish for the ground to swallow you whole. his face will plague you for an uncertain amount of time because today truly, was so very humbling.

the sight of your bus approaching your stop rouses you from the crevices of your thoughts and after you jump on and settle yourself into a seat in the relatively empty carriage, you bring your phone out to text reo again. he’d sent four messages since.

&lt;reo3: this doesn’t make any sense we all thought rin was into you &lt;reo3: like DOWN BAD into you<reo3: everyone on the team has literally made bets on you two <reo3: i’m sorry :c r u okay?  you: yeah. just gotta take the L and move on you: hey at least i’m free for valentines <reo3: LET’S GOOO we’re definitely doing something <reo3: i’ll be a better valentines than r*n you: you’re sexier too babes xoxo <reo3: duh!

maybe you’ll let reo see another day. 

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

your university schedule was never the same after the ‘itoshi rin’ fiasco.

it was never an amazing schedule to begin with since a few classes were quite inconvenient, and there’s only so much to enjoy out of your seminars. the fun part about them was being able to sit beside rin and talk to him whenever you could without getting waved off, but since his heartless decline of your feelings, acting ‘buddy-buddy’ wouldn’t be acceptable. so you resorted to sit by yourself in a section of the space you’ve never really occupied before, busying yourself on your phone as students walked in to class.

despite the temptation to look at the door to see when rin would come in, you do not budge one bit, eyes glued to your phone screen (which had nothing entertaining on it). this meant that you couldn’t see the confusion on his face when he didn’t see you in your normal spot and how it merged further into a look of offence when he instead spots you across the room.

reluctantly taking his usual seat, rin’s gaze lingers on you, hoping to meet your eyes at least once. but upon your insistence to pretend your phone was more important than him, he sits down, practically flopping onto his chair with his backpack cushioning his fall. 

sitting here feels a little empty. rin can’t help but think how it used to be much better when you insisted on being next to him.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── 

&lt;;reo3: you can come now rin isn’t here yet

you: kk b there soon

the trek across campus towards the university’s soccer field, although long, is harmless enough, especially since you were doing a favour for your best friend by bringing the soccer guards and water bottle that he left at your dorm. the harmful part was the looming threat of itoshi rin’s presence and your fear that you would encounter him on your way. 

all you needed to do was drop in quickly and leave. 

when you get to the field, nagi’s the one who sees you first from where he was lounging on the bleaches, changed in his soccer gear. 

“oh, y/n,” he mumbles, sitting up. “hello.”

“hey nagi. are you trying to nap before practice or something?” you ask.

“yeah.” 

“won’t that drain you though before practice starts? you’ve got like… five minutes.”

“still classified as a power nap. wanna collect a power up before startin’.”

amusing as ever, he is. “sure. hey, you know where reo is?”

“he’s changed, probably warming up with isagi and bachira and whoever else.”

“shouldn’t you be doing that too?”

“not until reo forces me to.”

as if on cue, a friendly and very familiar voice calls out nagi’s name and you’re delighted to see the purple-haired in question. you can finally give him his stupid stuff back; the ones you’ve been holding in your hands this entire time like an idiot.

“come on nagi!” reo exclaims, jogging over. a smile appears on his face when he sees you. “yo! y/n! thanks for bringing my things.”

“‘s not a problem. next time i’ll burn them so don’t leave them again,” you counter as the purple-haired takes his things from you with an eye roll. “i filled up your water bottle for you.” 

he places his things down before sitting beside nagi to put his guards on. “so considerate even whilst terrorising me.”

“of course.”

“seriously though, thank you for bringing my things.”

“not a problem. i’m gonna head back to my dorm to study so i’ll see you later. bye reo, bye nagi,” you wave at the two, fixing your backpack strap before turning around to leave the field, only to bump face-first into someone.

the apology that surfaces on your tongue quickly withers away when you lock eyes with a pair of steely, teal ones, partially hidden by strands of dark hair. he looks at you like he has something to say.

but you’re not ready to hear it. 

“uh, hi rin! gotta go!” you squeak before stepping to the side and running away, leaving rin to stare in bewilderment after you.

part of him has the urge to run after you. 

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

<reo3: isagi’s invited a bunch of us to the on campus screening of spirited away

<reo3: wanna come?

you: ykw why not

you: not like i have essays to write

<reo3: FUCK THEM ESSAYS! 

you: YOU’RE RIGHT SPIRITED AWAY IS BETTER !

if you knew that this would lead you to be seated (uncomfortably) between reo and isagi, who acted as the only barrier between you and an-unnamed-man (rin), then perhaps you would’ve dedicated yourself to your essay rather than a fun opportunity to hang out with your friends. 

1500 words sounds better than having to pretend like there wasn’t an icy cold stare penetrating the back of your head every time you turned to talk to reo, or isagi trying to keep his interactions up with rin so the latter wouldn’t try to talk to you.

you owe isagi a vending machine drink after this because a ‘thank you’ will never suffice. 

it’s easy enough to forget about rin when the movie plays and isagi begins whispering little pieces of commentary to you from time to time, eliciting giggles from you that you try to suppress to not annoy those around you. however, each sound that slipped past your lips was enough to make the dark-haired boy scrunch his face in disgust, an ugly, green monster climbing up his throat when he catches a glimpse of how happy you seemed with someone that wasn’t him. it kills him to see how easily it is for you to just ignore him like your friendship never existed.

since the campus movie was scheduled during a cool but bearable, autumn dusk, you severely underestimated how cold the night would get. heating wasn’t the best in the gymnasium so the committee had instructed everyone to bring their own blankets and warm covers, yet in your haste, you couldn’t bring adequate layers.

so after a while of trying to warm yourself up and convincing yourself that you were warm enough with a measly sweatshirt, rin notices from the corner of his eye how you kept rubbing your arms. 

he doesn’t hesitate to take off the fleece jacket that he was wearing over his university jumper. sure, it will be significantly colder without his outer layer, but rin’s willing to suffer as long as you were okay (when has he ever been this considerate?), except he stops when he sees nagi handing you his very oversized jumper. you accept it with a gracious smile and the white-haired boy merely shrugs before going back to watching the film. rin, on the other hand, feels a cauldron of rage brewing within him.

the sight makes his chest twist, wringing him dry as he stares dejectedly at how snug you seem in someone else’s clothes. the green monster inside of rin bubbles in contempt, a being that makes him want to rip the hoodie off you and replace it with his own for you to wrap yourself up in. he wants you to be content with him- happy because of him, not because of another.

you confessed to him only two weeks ago- barely even two weeks ago, so how could you so easily forget about him and move on? pretend like his rejection didn’t shatter you and him when he saw a devastation like no other on your pretty face?

rin doesn’t know how much longer he can live like this. 

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

the following tuesday, you’re already seated in your new spot for your seminar, busy setting up your laptop in preparation when rin walks in. you see him from the corner of your eye, backpack slung around his shoulder, hands tucked unassumingly in his pockets as all 185cm of him saunters towards the seats. however, when you notice that he bypasses his normal spot and walks even further out of your peripheral vision, alarms blare deafeningly in your head.

you freeze when you hear someone take the seat behind you.

there’s a hard gaze on the back of your head, one that roots you to your spot and wills you not to turn around.

sneaking out your phone from your bag, you hide it so that rin can’t see it from his angle. 

you: RIN IS SITTING BEHIND ME OH NO

you: terrible start to valentines day smh

<reo3: WHAT!??!!???!???! fr.

you: THIS IS AN EMERGENCY I’M GOING TO DISINTEGRATE RIGHT NOW

<reo3: maybe *don’t* do that???? 

<reo3: WHY’S HE SITTING BEHIND YOU?????

you: FUCK IF I KNOW IT FEELS LIKE HE’S THROWING DAGGERS AT MY HEAD

<reo3: WHAT ARE YOU GONNA DO?

you: CRY???????????? IDFK???????????

you: oh fuck class is about to start

you: i’ll let you know if anything happens

<reo3: STAY SAFE 

you tuck your phone away with fear and dread looming over you, personified through the form of itoshi rin, who sits so indifferently behind you, head propped on his hand. you hear his pen click behind you and you don’t even need to see him to know that he’s taking out that stupid notebook of his since he preferred to take notes by hand. you want to turn around and rip said book into shreds.

as the professor starts the class, you try your best to shake rin out of your thoughts, wanting to leave him behind in the depths of your mind so you can concentrate on this damn elective. none of the notes you were typing onto your document made sense and it felt like everything the professor was saying went in one ear then out the other. curse rin for having this effect on you. 

at least you get to gossip with reo after this.

though your seminar was only 60 minutes, it might as well have been 60 years because of how significantly older you feel at the end of it. the weight of rin’s stare was heavy on your shoulders when you hurriedly grab your things and make a dash for the exit.

well. you try to make a dash for the exit because somehow, rin gained the ability to teleport and beat you there, grabbing your wrist unceremoniously before pulling you into the hallways. you fumble with your phone, hurriedly texting reo.

you: UHH MAYDAY I MGHT NEEE TO SKIP OUR PLANS

<reo3: WHAT’S HAPPENING?????

you: RIN IS DRSGGING ME SIMEWHERE IDK WHERE

you: MY LOCARION IS ON LIFE360

you: I LUV YOU STUPID WHORE

<reo3: WHDJFWIJAIDJFAWHAT THE FUCK????

“hey!” you exclaim, helplessly being pulled by rin’s long strides, shutting your phone off as you try to match his eagerness. he could at least be a little more considerate and lighten up that grip of his on your wrist. “rin- what? where are we going?”

“you’ll see,” he responds gruffly.

your mind blanks despite the hurricane of questions that circulate your mind. how did you get here? is the delirium finally hitting you after countless sleepless nights? you stayed up until 2am last night to make valentine’s chocolates for your friends so maybe it’s the sugar and the sleep deprivation. 

as rin pulls you through the hallways, you think about how weird it is to allow him this close to you again- well, you didn’t exactly allow him, he kind of just… invaded your personal space. but after a whole week of not talking to him, responding dryly to his texts, avoiding your regular hangout spots, and overall pretending like he doesn’t exist, being exposed to his intimidating presence once more is… exhilarating? unreal? 

“wait, can we stop for a second?” you demand, breaking out of your funk when you step outside as if the harshness of the sun’s rays woke you up. “i’m so confused right now. where are we going?”

“we’re going to have lunch together at that café you’ve been wanting to try out,” he tells you with a serious expression, not breaking his usual aloof and stern personality. 

rin doesn’t give mixed messages: no, he gives messages that have completely been lost, fallen astray somewhere along the path of communication.

shifting your weight between your feet awkwardly, you tell him: “well, i kinda had valentine’s plans.”

his mask of coolness and uninterest cracks, exposing all the emotions he’s been withholding from surfacing for the past weeks; jealousy, envy, greed, they all manifest through the helpless scrunch of his face. “with who?” asks rin, tone a lot harsher than he had intended, matching the crease of his eyebrows and the frown he was wearing.

it’s the green monster in him talking.

if you were going out with someone else, someone new, rin’s not too sure what he’d do. determination and pettiness can only take a man so far before his resolve cracks and you have the power to crush his heart with a single stomp, extinguishing his flames in one, swift sweep. 

“with reo,” you confess. the dark-haired relaxes again, his face returning to a neutral expression.

“okay. ditch him then.” his audacity is baffling.

“i can’t just do that!” 

“why not?”

“cause that’s a shitty thing to do!” you say, before murmuring under your breath, “not that you’d know the first thing about being polite.” 

“i don’t care, it’s reo, you two hang out everyday. tell him to give me a turn.”

“you’re a horrible person, rin,” you murmur, ignoring the butterflies that erupt in your stomach.

he doesn’t say anything in retaliation, merely eyeing you expectantly, waiting for your next step. huffing, you reluctantly take out your phone as a sign of surrender under his suffocating pressure, muttering complaints under your breath as you find reo’s contact - literally your most recent one, to send him a quick message. almost instantly, your best friend responds with a thumbs up paired with a smirk and you almost want to block him then and there. 

“done.”

“perfect,” rin goes to grab your hand again but you retract from him just in time. when you look up to meet his gaze once more, you see his unimpressed expression whilst he keeps his palm extended towards you expectantly.

“i don’t need your help walking places,” you grumble, not liking how fast your heart was racing.

he gestures to his open palm once more. “i know.”

after a moment of silence, you give in, hesitantly placing your hand in his. with a small grin, rin intertwines your fingers before pulling you to his side. without another word, he begins walking, leaving you to merely follow the brutally fast pace he’s set.

you must’ve looked ridiculous to other people. being dragged around by an 185 cm man, how humbling.

the place rin led you to was not too far from campus; a totally manageable distance for the two of you to remain in silence during the walk. you try to bypass the awkwardness of it all by focusing on other things, like how warm rin’s hand is and how you hope he doesn’t mind your sweaty hands. he seems to be content from what you’ve observed, happily walking beside you whilst sparing a few occasional glances over; ones that you pretend you don’t see whilst admiring the cityscape around you.

there are various valentine’s decorations hung up around the insides of the cafe that made you cringe slightly. although they were very cute, you feel humiliation climbing up your throat, serving as a reminder that you were currently spending a day of love and romance, or whatever, standing beside the very man who rejected you. 

this is the cruellest version of a sick joke.

“welcome!” a cheery voice greets, breaking you out of your thoughts. “table for two?” rin nods. “perfect! are you here for valentine’s day because couples get access to a special menu on top of our regular one.” 

when you open your mouth to reject her offer, rin beats you to it. “we’ll take the valentine’s menu.”

“okay, right this way,” the waitress guides you to an empty table for two that was right by the corner. the atmosphere of the place was cozy with various candles and statement pieces to really bring it together, but you have no time or brain space to appreciate the aesthetic of the café. 

it’s not until the waitress leaves that you speak up, utterly confused. “why’d you get the valentine’s menu, we-”

realisation hits you like a truck. 

“-are we on a date right now?”

rin’s unmoving, save for the purse of his lips as he stares at you. you feel a little foolish right now.

“yeah, we are,” he answers, curtly and concisely.

alarms are blaring in your head, the earth is tremoring below you, there are distant screams somewhere in the back of your mind and all you can manage out is a simple ‘oh’. 

“get what you want, i’ll-” rin begins before you abruptly cut him off.

“-no, hold on, i’m so confused right now,” you rub your temples, staring at the stupid valentine’s day menu decorated with pink and hearts and chocolates. “why?”

“why what?”

“why are we on a date?”

“because it’s valentine’s day?”

“well- i know that part,” you murmur under your breath. “it’s just, y’know, people celebrate this day when they like each other.” and not when one party is miserable because the other rejected them. 

“we do like each other though.”

there are no words to describe the shock you feel. really. not even an anvil dropping on your head could wake you up from whatever dream you are conjuring right now. 

“no, we don’t! i like you, you don’t like me.”

he looks away, the tips of his ears turning red. “that’s not true,” he murmurs, no louder than a whisper, yet your jaw drops all the same at his confession. “i do like you.”

“a week ago you didn’t!” 

“a week ago i wasn’t ready to get into a… relationship… or whatever.”

“oh,” you fix the strap of your bag, feeling slightly awkward. “and you’re ready now all of a sudden?”

“yeah.”

“i don’t believe you.”

“the fuck? why?” 

“you don’t really seem like the type of guy to turn around on yourself like this. what changed?”

rin won’t ever tell you about how much he missed you during these two weeks and how it was his jealousy and greediness that spurred him to act on his feelings. instead, he simply slides the menu to you, pointing to a milkshake-‘lover’s brew’, and since the menu was decorated with pictures on the side, you could see what the concoction consisted of. whipped cream, heart sprinkles, topped with a caramel heart and fairy floss. 

“the milkshake?” you ask, trailing off towards the end. “you hate sweet things and this especially looks like it could give you diabetes.”

the dark-haired shrugs. “so? i thought you’d like it.” 

“sure, but it is kinda pricey for a milkshake.”

he shrugs again, putting his elbows on the table which causes his sleeves of his turtleneck to roll down a little, exposing the shiny silver of his, no doubt expensive, watch. “i’ll pay for us, it’s fine.”

“hold on-”

“i’m paying. end of argument.” 

it’s an offer you can’t really reject. being a university student and all, funds are limited, so wherever you can, you want to avoid withdrawing money out of your account. that said, it doesn’t mean that you don’t feel the slightest bit guilty about draining rin’s, but with how long you’ve been friends, you know that once he’s set his mind to something, it’s hard to change it.

“if you insist,” you grumble, straightening up your spine as you awkwardly fiddle with your shirt. you feel so scrutinised under his gaze, even as you reach for the jug of water and pour two cups of water. “what else should we get?”

the waitress then comes around to take your orders and when she’s gone, conversation flows easily, reverting back to how things were between the two of you (to rin’s relief). he listens as you talk animatedly about the unfortunate series of events you had with your professor the other day, how cute your encounter with the campus dogs were, and the really unfortunate run-in you had with a guy from your shared tutorial classes.

(the dark-haired boy makes a face when you mention another man’s name before his usual face of indifference melts back in.)

“here’s your milkshake,” the waitress says, placing the drink in the middle of the table before walking away, “you guys are really cute by the way.”

“thanks,” rin says calmly, a stark contrast to your flustered reaction.

two straws stick out from the milkshake and when you put one in your mouth, you almost choke when rin takes the other one, causing your noses to bump in the middle. the look he gives you is nothing short of mischievous before pulling away, a knowing smirk playing along his lips. 

“ew. that is really sweet,” he mutters before leaning back, crossing his arms. 

“yeah,” you cough. “it is really sweet.”

recovering from your embarrassment, the rest of lunch goes by quite seamlessly. he goes to pay for everything with a confident tap of his card, causing you to stand awkwardly behind him, keeping all complaints to yourself as it goes through. thanking the waitress, you leave the café hand-in-hand once more. 

“thanks again for paying,” you repeat and rin gives a hum of acknowledgement whilst you two walk aimlessly on the path. “what do you want to do now?”

“i don’t know. do you have anything you want to do?”

“i might have an idea.”

leading him in the direction of a nearby store that just opened recently, you come to a stop in front of a shop that had neon-lights illuminating its inside and claw machines filled with adorable plushies lining along the walls. 

glancing at him, there’s a glimmer of amusement in rin’s eyes as his lips turn upwards into a small smirk. “really?” he asks, looking over at you.

“really. this’ll be fun!” you promise before walking in, the dark-haired following suit as you stop in front of a token-purchasing machine. 

from the corner of your eye, you can see him taking out his wallet already and you immediately put your hand on your wrist, ceasing his movement.

with just one glance, a whole conversation passes between you two. “if you pay for me i will sock you.”

“i’d like to see you try,” he deadpans, quirking a brow before pressing the ‘20 tokens = $19’ button on the machine, “but i’m paying.”

then the sound of his card meeting the reader and the transaction being approved rings through the air, followed by the deafening noise of coins clashing against metal. the look he gives you is nothing short of proud. 

“come on babe, bet you won’t be able to get any prizes,” challenges rin as he brushes past you, the pet name causing your stomach to churn as insults rest on your tongue, offended by his declaration.

he’s gracious enough to give you half of the coins, allowing you to play four games each. you only manage to win on one of them and even then, you were astonished at your own achievements, excitedly grabbing the plushie and hugging the stuffed toy to your chest protectively. rin, on the other hand, comes back to you with two in both hands and the gawk you let out was completely against your will.

“how did you do that?” you ask, a little stupified at the sight (it was kinda hot though). although at this point, you shouldn’t really question how itoshi rin works since he takes the meaning of ‘march to the beat of your own drum’ to a whole other level. 

instead of answering, he hands them over to you and you have no choice but to take them, your arms now overloaded with three stuffed toys. 

before you can even open your mouth to ask if he broke into the machines, your phone buzzes with a notification and the second you open it, you’re met with a familiar ‘⚠️bereal’ banner, one that makes you excited over the impeccable timing. rin raises an eyebrow at your sudden surprise.

“bereal! quick, pose!” you demand and rin obeys, raising a peace sign with a slight smile before the camera turns around to you and the many stuffed toys you’re cuddling. 

how adorable you are might just kill him. 

the dark-haired shakes the thought away before taking out his phone, instructing you to smile. you pose for the photo, hugging all the plushies closely to your chest whilst rin gives his usual deadpan stare into the camera. he then gives you his phone to check if it was okay to post and when you approve, you press the ‘post >’ button for him.

shutting off his phone for him, it’s at the same time that the bereal notification pops up again, this time detailing how one of his friends had posted but that’s not what caught your attention.

it’s a certain photo that made your heart thump loudly in its ribcage.

“am i your lockscreen?” you ask, pride and flattery swelling in your stomach, manifesting through the warmth of your cheeks. 

the slight widening of his eyes give you all the answers you need. “you weren’t supposed to see that.” 

nothing could stop the slow grin from erupting on your expression. it’s ridiculous to say so, but it almost feels like a weight is being lifted from your chest, the pains of the last few weeks erasing themselves completely with this one detail. 

that’s how you know rin was meant for you.

“out of all pictures of me, you chose this one?” you question, gesturing to the selfie that you once sent him during your study sessions. your hair was messy, there was a semi-crazed look in your eyes, but at least the moisturising lip gloss you had reapplied then made you look somewhat put together. 

looking at his phone once more, you feel a little warm.

“i like it,” he mutters shyly, unable to look you in the eye. despite his embarrassment, his statement fills you with endless relief, providing gratification for your relationship with rin that you didn’t know you needed. 

though you’ve been friends with him for quite some time now, you feel as though you don’t really recognise the man in front of you. past perceptions you’ve had of him has now been shattered by his flustered gaze, the relentless blush coating his cheeks, and the uncharacteristic way he slumps, as if defending himself from any judgement you might throw at him. 

luckily for him, that’s not what you’re interested in doing.

unlocking your phone, you hand it to him. “take a matching selfie so i can make it my lock screen too.”

at least you have all the time in the world to get to know him all over again.

(rin will never tell you that he only has been active on bereal so he could see what you were up to. except it backfired every time because instead of satisfying how desperately he was longing for you during your two weeks of no contact, it only made him want you more. he wanted to be there with you through your intense study sessions, he wanted to be going on walks with you, he wanted to be there with you when you were watching one more episode of your favourite tv show before going to bed, he just wanted to be there with you.

now he has all the time to make sure he is.)

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

[@y/n’s BeReal]

@ karasu69: @fruityninjaotoya YOU OWE ME TWENTY BUCKS 　　→ @fruitninjaotoya: Shut your micropenis up

@ yocchan: Y/N WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS 　　→ @ nagixxxxxxxxxxxxx: ratio 　　→ @ yocchan: DON’T RATIO ME RN

@monsterbachira: omg are y’all 😍❤️😍 rn 　　→ @y/n: wut. 　　→ @itshrin: Yes 　　→ @monsterbachira: y/n rin is actually a good kisser 　　→ @y/n: thanks for letting me know meguru! 　　→ @itshrin: i’m going to end you. 

@bbgreo: i’m glad y’all had fun but no itoshi rin on our platonic date pls! 　　→ @y/n: would never dream of it luv <3 　　→ @itshrin: Sleep with one eye open, Reo 　　→ @y/n: that’s my best friend :( 　　→ @itshrin: You don’t need him 　　→ @y/n: reo and i are one you can’t separate us 　　→ @itshrin: Ok fine 😒 　　→ @bbgreo: yay! 　　→ @y/n: yay!

<reo3: told you you were too pretty to reject xx

[2amriize]

˚⟡˖ when you unexpectedly go to their practice room and hear them talking about you - RIIZE

ᡣ𐭩 masterlist genre fluff, crack pairing riize x reader request by: @ladylilith

ᯓ★ SHOTARO

"Yeah, I know, she's just too cute… I can't stop smiling when I see her. Sometimes I just want to grab her cheeks and…"

Shotaro froze for a few seconds, realizing you were standing at the door of the practice room, smiling at him. He let out a nervous laugh, wondering how long you'd been listening.

"And what?" you teased, walking toward him with a grin.

"…and kiss them, like this!" He said, wrapping you in his arms and showering your cheeks with kisses as both of you laughed.

ᯓ★ EUNSEOK

You had decided to visit Eunseok’s practice room since you hadn't spent much time together lately. As you got closer, you heard his voice and quickly realized he was talking about you.

"I miss her so much…"

"How long has it been since you last saw her?"

"I think it's been a week, but god.., I miss hugging her. I've never felt like this before…"

"Aww, Eunseok, why don't you say these things when I'm around?" you murmured as you entered the room, arms open for a hug.

Eunseok smiled instantly when he saw you, walking over quickly and wrapping you in a tight embrace, planting a kiss on your head. "Here you are."

ᯓ★ SUNGCHAN

"Y/n? Oh yeah, she's so beautiful. I can't help but feel a bit nervous when I see her… Can you really tell?"

Sungchan had messaged you saying he really wanted some pastries, but because of rehearsals, he didn’t have time to go buy them. So, you decided to surprise him by bringing them to his practice room. What you didn’t expect was to overhear him saying that about you, making your cheeks flush.

You walked into the room, trying to appear calm. When Sungchan saw you, he froze, wondering if you had heard everything he said. You simply handed him the pastries, pretending as if you hadn’t overheard a thing.

ᯓ★ WONBIN

When you heard Wonbin mention your name in the conversation he was having with the others, you stopped near the door to listen.

"Ah… I miss y/n. If I could hug her right now, I think it would recharge all my energy."

After hearing that, you didn’t hesitate to rush into the room and wrap your arms around him from behind, making him jump in surprise. When he realized it was you, thanks to the mirror, he turned around to hug you back, looking excited to see you there.

ᯓ★ SEUNGHAN

"Me? I wouldn’t trade y/n for anything in the world. You might laugh, but I feel like she’s the love of my life… I don’t know how to explain it, but I know I want to be with her forever."

You had decided to drop by Seunghan’s practice because he had forgotten his charger at your place. What you didn’t expect was to overhear such heartfelt words from him the moment you arrived. Tears welled up in your eyes as you listened. When Seunghan noticed you walking into the room, crying, he quickly approached you, laughing softly as he gently stroked your head, realizing you had heard everything.

ᯓ★ SOHEE

Sohee often struggled to express his feelings when you were face-to-face, which is why it surprised you to hear him talking about you when you visited him in the practice room.

"Yeah, I know, she’s perfect. I don’t know how I got so lucky… Maybe I’ll stop by her place after rehearsal. I need to see her."

When Sohee turned around and saw you standing at the door with a huge smile, he froze, his cheeks heating up quickly. You walked up to him and gave him a kiss on the lips, while he continued to look at you, still stunned and a bit embarrassed that you had overheard his confession.

ᯓ★ ANTON

"Y/n? Yeah, she’s really sweet… but we’re just friends."

"But don’t you like her? Why don’t you ask her out?"

"Well… yeah, I like her, but I want to ask her out in a special way, although I’m not sure how…"

Anton fell completely silent when he noticed you standing in the doorway, realizing you had heard the entire conversation. A bit nervous, he walked over to you, while you could hear the other members chuckling at the situation.

"Oh, y/n… how long have you been standing there…?"

ᡣ𐭩 masterlist

taglist: @regularsuh @gacktsa @totheseok @kkumistars @taroddori

@enhacolor @ladylilith @electric-hearts @astrobymarwa

[piratefishmama]

Multi-award winning band Corroded Coffin daring each other to play the "number neighbour" game one night while on a break from rehearsals. Each of them texting their number neighbour a silly 'hello you're my number neighbour, send a funny pic?' text.

There's a few replies, Gareth gets a dick pic that they spend, seemingly an eternity laughing at him for.

Jeff gets a picture from a care home taken by a staff member of everyone waving accompanied by a heartfelt thank you message about how her family hadn't visited this woman in weeks, and the surprise message had made her smile. He keeps messaging her after cause fuck this womans family shes his grandma now. The band sends her flowers once a week on a recurring plan with a local florist.

Frank the Freak gets a pic of a desk full of homework and books and a quick "finals!!!!!" A quick back and forth gets that poor student enough takeout to feed their whole dorm.

And Eddie. Eddie gets Steve. Steve, who'd been asleep when he texted, so Eddie wakes up to a pic of a very sleep rumpled golden retriever curled around an extremely sleep rumpled ragdoll cat captioned "sleeby" when Steve had woken up to the text and decided his (the cat) and Robins (the dog) pets deserved their time to shine.

He politely requests more pictures, and the shenanigans begin.

[gilbertscurls]

calling after me — matt sturniolo

summary: where you hang up on matt without saying "i love you"

The house was quiet, with only the soft hum of the refrigerator and the occasional rustle of a breeze through the open windows breaking the stillness. You had spent the afternoon catching up on some reading, enjoying the peaceful solitude. Matt was out for the day, running errands and meeting with friends, and you had talked briefly before he left.

You were feeling a bit playful and decided on a light-hearted prank to pass the time. You picked up your phone, knowing that Matt would likely call you later in the day just to check in. Your plan was to hang up on him without saying “I love you” back, just to see how he would react. It was a harmless trick, meant only to spark a little fun.

A few hours later, your phone rang, and you saw Matt’s name flashing on the screen. You took a deep breath, your excitement building, and answered with your usual cheerful tone.

“Hey, Matt! How’s it going?”

Matt’s voice came through the phone, sounding upbeat. “Hey, baby! Everything’s good. Just finishing up a few things. How about you? Missed you today.”

You smiled, enjoying the sound of his voice. “I’ve been good. Just relaxing and getting some stuff done around here.”

You chatted for a few minutes, exchanging stories about your day. You could hear the warmth and affection in Matt’s voice, and you felt a pang of guilt for what you were about to do. But you pushed it aside, determined to go through with your prank.

“Well, I should probably get going,” Matt said. “I’ll be heading home soon. Love you.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. You hesitated for a moment, then decided to go through with the prank. “Okay, see you soon,” you said, and before Matt could say anything else, you abruptly hung up the call.

The sudden silence in the room felt almost too loud. You waited, your playful grin slowly fading as you wondered how Matt would react. A few moments later, your phone buzzed with a text message from Matt.

“Is everything okay? Did I do something wrong?”

Your heart sank as you read his message. You hadn’t expected him to be so concerned. You quickly typed a response.

“I’m sorry, Matt. I was just playing a little prank. I love you!”

Almost immediately, Matt called you back, and this time, you answered with a sense of urgency.

“Hey, Matt. I’m really sorry about that. It was just a silly prank.”

Matt’s voice was a mix of relief and slight confusion. “You scared me for a second there. I thought something might be wrong. You didn’t say ‘I love you’ back, and I was worried.”

Your heart ached at his concern. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I just wanted to see how you’d react.”

Matt sighed, his voice softening. “You know, I’m glad you’re okay, but you don’t need to pull pranks like that. It’s just, when you didn’t say ‘I love you,’ it felt like something was off.”

You felt a wave of guilt and affection. “I understand. I really do love you, Matt. I’m sorry if I made you worry.”

Matt’s tone turned tender. “I love you too, baby. Just… Maybe next time, let’s skip the pranks. They’re not as fun when they make you worry.”

Your eyes softened, and she smiled. “Agreed. I’ll make it up to you when you get home. Promise.”

Matt chuckled softly. “Looking forward to it. See you soon.”

And when he returned home, you spent the evening making up for the prank with extra hugs, laughter, and heartfelt moments.

tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06, @asherrisrandom, @sturniolowhore69, @faith5drpepper, @emely9274, @psychologyloverfr, @lovetaylorrussellgrr, @conspiracy-ash, @helpimateenagerinlove, @ghostlythinggoingaround, @sturmatt, @chris-hallelujah, @goingtojohnkramershouseee, @wurlibydominicfike, @straw8berry, @shadowthesim