#and i apologize if i do end up leaning into fluff a lot in the near future -- it's already a favorite of mine

[quietlyblooms]

my headache is finally going away, so we'll see if i manage anything before i pass out! i have the urge to write but i also have the urge to work on combining my muse lists on @diliqence, though that means deciding on an aesthetic to stick with and i don't wanna think about that rn uvu i'm not sure i even have it in me to move muse pages, so!! we really will just see.

[snowballseal]

How they react to you feeling insecure (LaDS)

Summary: How the Love and Deepspace boys react to you feeling insecure about various things. Includes Rafayel, Sylus, Zayne, and Xavier. Lots of fluff.

Word Count: they're all around 1000 roughly

Note: Warnings of different kinds of insecurity, ranging from physical to mental. I'm not sure of how well the Xavier one turned out, he's harder for me to write, but I couldn't leave him out!!! Anyways, hope yall enjoy!

Rafayel

His ended up being a lot longer, so it's posted separately.

here

--

Sylus

Being partners with Sylus is a…daunting position to be in.

You always considered yourself a fairly average person, more focused on who you are than what you look like. It’s not that you don’t like the way you look - you do - and you don’t like comparing yourself to anyone, but you don’t plan on being a model anytime soon. And there’s nothing wrong with that.

Then you met Sylus, a man who looks like he was carved from the marble of ancient architecture. He could stand in a room of masterpieces and people would still look at him instead of the art. And since you’re by his side now, that means they’re also looking at you.

Being stared down by wanderers in one thing. Being stared down by the most powerful and prevalent members of the N109 Zone? You hate to admit that it gets to you. In fact, it gets so under your skin, that even when you’re dressed in the most extravagant dresses and decadent jewelry, you can’t help but feel…insecure.

Twisting in front of the mirror, you eye every detail of the dress Sylus bought you. It’s perfect, of course. The man has an annoying knack for getting you the most beautiful things and knowing exactly what fits you. The color compliments your hair and it’s comfortable to boot.

Still. You can’t help but feel like a kid trying to fit in at the adults table, wearing your mother’s heels even though they don’t fit. A bit ridiculous.

“Do you not like it?” Sylus appears behind you, dressed in a matching, lavish suit. 

You jump a little, eyes flicking up to meet his in the mirror. His eyes burn into you, reading the hesitation on your face as you curl your arms around your stomach. There’s no fiery retort or witty comment like usual. You just look back at your dress, the tips of your ears tinging pink.

A frown pulls at Sylus’ lips, his voice softening, “What’s wrong?”

“...Do you really think people believe us? That we’re together?” You ask quietly, shuffling your weight back and forth. “That I’m a good match for you?”

You’re keenly aware that you’ve never had a conversation like this with Sylus. For the most part your relationship has been filled with teasing and playful bickering. It’s always light. Or about work. This is new, and while you trust him more than anything, you hate not knowing how he will react.

Sylus hums, low and thoughtful, as he curls his arms around you, “Does it matter to you what others think?”

You let out a sigh, leaning back into his touch thankfully. You want to say no. You want to keep up the air of confidence, but that quiet voice of doubt keeps worming its way through your thoughts.

“I just…I feel like I’m not what people expect. And…” you try to explain, hesitating. Sylus presses a kiss to your shoulder, offering a hum of encouragement. Taking a deep breath, you add, “It bothers me. It feels like I’m being forced into the spotlight but I’m not meant to be there. Like I don’t fit.”

“Hmm, so you feel like an odd duckling.” You give him a small jab, and Sylus chuckles. “My apologies. I think you misunderstand the attention though.” He pulls you closer. You shiver as his lips trace along the crook of your shoulder, pressing delicate kisses up the side of your neck, until he can murmur lowly into your ear, “You’re too humble, kitten. When you walk into a room, all eyes turn to you, not out of judgment, but out of jealousy. Afterall, you’ve tamed the leader of Onychinus. Even if you walked in with your uniform, they’d look at you the same. And I get the pleasure of walking around with the most powerful-” He presses his lips to your jaw. “-beautiful-” His lips trace against your cheek. “-woman of Linkon City. Don’t let the attention of those lesser than you make you doubt, otherwise I might have to find another way to show them just how well we fit together.”

Sylus’ eyes catch yours in the mirror again. They’re dark, like coals surrounded by flickering cinders. So intense you can almost feel the flames licking along your skin. There’s not a doubt in your mind that he’s being genuine. And that sets your heart racing. Along with the way he holds you so close, equal parts possessive and reverent. Like worship.

“Your devotion might scare some people, Sylus,” you whisper, glancing sideways at him.

He flashes a dangerous smile, “Does it scare you?”

You cast one final glance at your reflections before turning around in his hold and curling your arms around his neck. Sylus raises a challenging brow.

“I’m not. I like how you stand up for me, even when it’s against my own insecurities.” You draw him down, pressing a kiss to that carnal smile. Sylus softens immediately, cupping your jaw to draw you into a deeper kiss. The warmth that simmers in each and every touch leaves you a little breathless when you pull away. Pressing against his chest before he can drag you in again, you make sure to say one last thing, “Thank you, Sylus. I’ll make sure to remember all of that…especially the part about you being wrapped around my finger.”

“Hmm, such a cruel mistress, indeed.”

“And you love me.”

A chuckle rumbles through his chest, “Yes, I do. So, will you accompany me to this auction now?”

---

Zayne

“Are you sure it’s okay that I’m going?” You ask, voice wavering with nerves as you straighten Zayne’s tie for him.

“Isn’t it natural to bring one’s partner to these kinds of events?” He tilts his head, brow perked ever so slightly.

You nod, but can’t seem to erase the frown on your lips.

A week ago, Zayne had asked if you would accompany him to his medical school’s class reunion banquet. He had been asked to give a special word, given the reputation he had developed in his time at Akso Hospital, not to mention winning the Starcatcher Award for his work.

At first, you were ecstatic to have an opportunity to learn more about his old life. He has such a thing about living in the present, you hardly get to hear any stories about his time in med school, or when he was doing rotations at the hospital. You were eager to meet the people who he used to spend time with and hopefully catch a few stories you could tease him with later.

But as the night drew closer, you started actually thinking about all the people you would be around, all of whom graduated from the same medical program Zayne did. You can only imagine how smart they all are. And how you’ll get lost the moment any medical jargon comes up. 

The more you think about it, the more nerves you feel buzzing under your skin. You know you’re not the smartest, not compared to Zayne at least. He’s a genius, after all, and could probably outsmart most anyone. You’ve always been better at the physical stuff. That’s what makes you such a good pair. 

It’s not like you can impress everyone by whipping your gun out and fighting, though. All you’ll have are your words, and you’re not particularly good with those…

You blink when a large hand suddenly circles your wrist. Glancing up, you find Zayne looking down at you, brows furrowed ever so slightly.

“While I appreciate your attention to detail, I believe you’ve been straightening my tie for five minutes now.” Heat creeps up your neck. You hadn’t even realized you had been lost in thought. Zayne’s eyes narrow inquisitively.  “What are you thinking about that has your mind so preoccupied?” 

His thumb brushes casually along the inside of your wrist, not so subtly checking your pulse. A strangely endearing habit of his when he’s worried about you. You let out a long sigh and hide your face against his chest, feeling the heat bleed across your cheeks.

How are you supposed to tell him that you’re insecure about how smart all his friends must be?

Zayne doesn’t push right away. He knows you’ll explain when you want to, and if you don’t, then he knows you’re not ready to. It was an unspoken rule between you, something you started with him because you noticed he likes to think his words out. It felt natural to offer you the same when you struggle to express yourself. Like now.

Ultimately, you figure it’s better to just be straightforward. That’s how he would do it, and it’s better than dancing around the subject.

“I guess I’m nervous because I feel like I’m going to be the dumbest person in the room tonight,” you mutter against his coat. Your fingers tap out an anxious beat against his abdomen. “It’s silly and I know it shouldn’t matter, but I just don’t want to make you look bad.”

Zayne remains quiet for a long minute. Your fingers move a little quicker, matching the stuttering rhythm of your heart. His hand slides up, gently trapping them against his body.

“Sorry,” you mumble.

“Physical tics are a common result of anxiety,” he hums dismissively, thumb smoothing over your knuckles. “As is your rapid heart rate. This truly bothers you.”

“Of course it does,” you sigh, a bit exasperated, ”You’ve worked hard to get where you are, Zayne. I love you so much, and I respect your work more than anything. I don’t, I don’t want to say something stupid and have it reflect on you badly.”

The doctor clicks his tongue, “First, I would prefer if you stop using that language to describe yourself.”

Your heart falters when his cool fingers touch your cheek, drawing your face up to his. He looks upset, but not exactly at you, the sharp line of his jaw contrasting with the softness of his eyes. Like it pains him that you think this way. Which it does.

“Those words don’t suit you. I wouldn’t allow another to call you them, so why would I allow you to?” He asserts, the corner of his lips twitching with distaste. “I don’t want to hear them again, do you understand?”

“Okay.” A thread of warmth curls around your heart when Zayne nods approvingly. His protectiveness really knows no bounds.

“Second, I do not agree with your diagnosis.” 

Your brow furrows a little. What? What does he mean, he disagrees? He’s literally surrounded by geniuses, you can’t match up to any of them if they’re anything like him. 

Seeing you start to overthink, Zayne shakes his head and gently pinches your cheek. You jolt back a little. The corners of his eyes crinkle, making you pout.

“Meanie,” you grumble, “Fine, explain your reasoning, Doctor Zayne.”

“It’s simple. Intelligence is made up of more than just academic knowledge, which, I assume, is what you are thinking of when you make such comments.” You nod. He’s not wrong about that, you guess. “Intelligence also includes the knowledge of how to use one’s strengths to achieve the best outcome. It is true that for some, this means using academic reasoning. However, it also includes those who develop the skills and discipline to maintain their bodies and fight for those who can’t, like…”

He pauses and gives you an expectant look.

“...me,” you finish slowly.

“Yes,” he hums, stroking the redness of your cheek, “I believe, under these standards, you are far more intelligent than most of the people you will meet tonight, darling. Though there is no comparison in the first place.”

His words sink in slowly but surely, filling in the cracks of your doubt. If you didn’t know better, you’d say he probably has some kind of healing magic, because you can already feel the burden of your insecurities melting away.

Leave it to Zayne to know exactly what to say, but in the most complex sounding way.

“You always know how to make me feel better, huh?” You ask, finally cracking that smile he loves.

“I am simply telling you the truth.” Zayne leans down, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. “There is not a lifetime in which my reputation will be more important than you. I would gladly throw it all away if it meant reminding you of that.”

You snort, “Don’t do that, please. I can only imagine the fit Doctor Greyson would throw. He’d be so mad at me.”

“I can handle Doctor Greyson, in the same way I can handle everyone tonight.” He slips his fingers between yours, bringing your hand up to kiss your knuckles. You wiggle your fingers  happily and Zayne can’t help but grin to himself. “If at any point you find yourself uncomfortable, just stay by my side and I will act as your distraction. Though, I’m sure they will all love you, just as I do.”

“...Thank you, Zayne.”

“Of course, my jasmine.”

---

Xavier

Working with Xavier is a blessing, as much as it is a curse. You couldn’t ask for a better partner. Someone who you know will always have your back, who can handle himself completely, who is probably the most talented hunter you’ve ever met in your entire life. He’s undeniably amazing.

On the flip side of that, though, you often fall into the trap of thinking about how he deserves better. Wondering if, maybe, the only reason he chose to stay with you was because of the aether core in your heart. If that’s also the reason you’re in a relationship now…

And some days, these thoughts win out over the rest. Like today.

“What’s wrong?”

You blink, eyes flickering up from the bowl of ramen in front of you. Early on, you had started a tradition of eating a meal together after a successful mission, to just enjoy the peace of your home and each other. But today, you weren’t feeling that hungry, just…tired.

Xavier tilts his head, concern furrowing his brow - he noticed your mood start to shift days before, but didn’t want to push since you didn’t seem to notice it yourself. Now, though, it’s too obvious for him to ignore.

“I’m fine,” you sigh, flicking your chopsticks back and forth to watch the noodles swirl around in the broth, a small frown capturing your lips. It’s a horribly obvious lie.

“Is it something I did?” His voice isn’t accusatory or upset. It’s just a rational question to help him figure out what’s wrong. Still, you feel guilt tug at your chest, and you set the chopsticks down with another sigh.

You don’t want him to think that. You’d never blame Xavier for something like this. That would be like asking him to be a worse person, which is stupid. It’s just you. Your problem. Dragging him into it will only make you feel worse.

“No, Xavier, you didn’t do anything, promise. I’m not upset…with you.” 

“But you are upset.”

Chancing a glance up at him proves a bad idea, making it all that more difficult to keep your thoughts quiet. Behind his normal sleepy expression, worry gleams in the deep blue of his eyes, unyielding and undeniably calm, like waves lapping gently at the beach. 

The sight makes your heart ache and the words are tumbling out of your mouth before you can stop them, “Do you think I’m actually a suitable partner for you?”

Surprise flickers across the hunter’s face. Of all the things he was expecting you to say, that wasn’t even on the list. He doesn’t laugh though, or take your question lightly.

“Do you mean, as a hunting partner? Or as a romantic partner?”

You shift uncomfortably, eyes falling back to your ramen, “I don’t know. Both, I guess?”

He hums softly. You try to ignore the nerves fluttering in your chest as Xavier gets up, watching him out of the corner of your eye as he circles the table to stand next to you. The hunter drips his head, catching your gaze.

“May I see your hand?”

A small frown pulls at your lips, not exactly sure where he’s going with this, but you offer him your hand anyways. Xavier takes your wrist, touch featherlight, and moves it so your hand is held up flat, facing him. Your brow furrows.

“Xav-”

“Look.” 

Pursing your lips, you let out a little huff. He really hates giving direct answers, doesn’t he? Still, you’re in no place to really judge him, or expect anything for that matter. He’s always been a bit of a mystery to you.

You watch as Xavier places his hand against yours. His palm is warm and you can feel the calluses from who knows how many years of hunting. Your hand looks tiny in comparison, his pale, delicate fingers long enough to curl over your own a little. The sight makes your heart squeeze, fondness competing with the feeling of being so…small.

“They’re pretty different,” Xavier hums, voice still calm, his own eyes fixed on your hands. “Your fingers are always cold, and your hands are small. You have a scar here.” His free hand grazes the side of your palm, along your pinky. “And here” He traces another along your knuckle. Your breath falters at the tenderness behind his touch, like you’re delicate porcelain. “Mine are in different places. Yours are skilled at weaving silk balls and mine can…open jars.”

You snort. Xavier’s eyes dart up to yours, sparkling with humor, a brow raised. You try to smother your laughter, rather ineffectively, and motion for him to continue.

“They’re different, but-” His fingers spread apart, and you mimic him instinctually, only for his fingers to slot between yours in one fluid motion. You inhale softly, laughter dying in your throat. It’s like two puzzle pieces fitting together, a perfect embrace that washes over you with a comforting warmth.

Xavier watches you, keenly aware of the way you squeeze his hand tightly, desperately, like you’re worried it might disappear. He gives yours a tender squeeze in return, thumb brushing over your knuckle.

“I think they’re a suitable match. Don’t you?”

God, how could you go without this man? The worries that have been pricking at the back of your mind all week seem to melt away. It leaves you with that warmth, the kind that only comes from Xavier, that he offers you over and over again.

You give his hand another squeeze, finally smiling, “Yah. I do…Thanks, Xavier.”

The hunter leans down, pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead. You can feel his lips brush against your skin as he murmurs, “Let me know if you ever feel this way again, angel. I’ll be more than glad to remind you.”

“I will.”

---

This was really fun to write!!! I really hope you guys like it! There are so many freaking tags on this puppy.

[milfgyuu]

Lowlifes [M] Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x Fem!Reader Tags: 11.5k, f2l, smut, fluff, humor, foundfamily, gang?au, 18+ Summary: Seungcheol grows tired of watching you fool around with a string of loser boyfriends and steps in when an ex shows up somewhere he's not welcome which unravels years of feelings lost in translation. Warnings: SMUT 18+, MINORS DNI!! mxf unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, lots of making out both in public and private, lots of touching, holding, soft manhandling, language, physical violence, mentions of injuries, broken bones, etc. not super detailed but very much implied they are in an illegal crime crew/gang/ring whatever. people are drinking in the bar and getting lit bc it's big dawg dk's bday ok. i think that covers it.

Seungcheol knows he should mind his business and he’s well aware that you can handle your own problems because you take great pleasure in reminding him of your capabilities.

That doesn’t mean he’s not watching out of the corner of his eye as you’re pacing back and forth at the far end of the bar. Your phone is glued to your ear and you’re obviously upset, throwing your free hand in the air with a string of expletives falling from your lips so clearly that he doesn’t have to hear you to make them out. It’s obvious who’s on the other end of that call and just knowing you’re still speaking to your ex irks his nerves.

He drinks down the remainder of his beer as he continues monitoring from a distance, running the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip with thinly veiled irritation. 

When you hang up the phone, mid-sentence, it takes everything in you not to turn and drive your fist through the wall. All the pretty promises and apologies…you knew they were empty. You knew he would disappoint you yet again. You’re more angry with yourself for being stupid enough to hope he’d come through for once but instead of being here with you and your friends, trying to work shit out, he’s running with his new crew. 

Things were always tumultuous with Jae and never going to work out, which you knew very early on, but you just loathe being wrong when you give someone a chance. It was a fool’s hope to think he might turn it around and make you feel better about letting him into your life to begin with.

The truth of the matter was that Jae just wanted to be a part of your crew and when they refused to let him in, he went and found another and tried to drag you along with him. There wasn’t a chance in hell that you’d leave them, your family, but you tried to make things work and it bit you in the ass more times than you could count. 

You’re pissed as all hell when you slip back into the booth, right into Seungcheol’s side. He’s warm and familiar, and when his arm falls around your shoulder it tempers your rage just a touch. Another thing Jae couldn’t stand…how close the two of you were. 

Seungcheol has been by your side since you and your brother were kids. You three have been thick as thieves, literally, for so long that you were more comfortable with him than anyone else in the world. You loved, trusted, and respected Seungcheol to a fault. 

He also notoriously let’s you get away with pretty much everything. 

So, for no reason other than needing a distraction and hoping to get a rise out of him, you take the cold fresh beer he’s yet to touch right out of his hands and bring it to your lips. He makes an amused sound and pinches your shoulder where his hand rests. 

“That doesn’t belong to you,” he grumbles, though he doesn’t do anything to stop you from taking whatever you want.

You swallow another small mouthful and set the beer down, pushing it back into his grip. The little gasp of surprise you let out when his big hand catches around yours before you can let go of the glass makes Cheol grin which is an improvement from the scowl he’s been sporting for most of the night.

“You gonna tell me why you’ve been so grumpy?” you ask, leaning into him so he can actually hear you over all the noise, “You only nurse a beer when you’re in a shit mood.”

He lets you pull your hand from the cold glass but doesn’t put any distance between your bodies, he lessens it instead. You’re so close that he doesn’t even need to speak loudly for you to hear him. “I didn’t realize you paid that much attention to me.” His deep rumbling voice can be felt this closely and the alcohol in the warmth of your belly feels fizzy.

“I’ve known you longer than anyone else here,” you reason, “You can’t hide anything from me.”

Seungcheol snickers, “Oh, I bet I could.”

You don’t get the chance to try and one up him because your phone buzzes incessantly in your lap. Pulling back, you both see who is calling and Seungcheol kisses his teeth in irritation. You silence the call, sending your ex to voicemail and you’re about to reach for your own drink but another incoming call prevents you.

“You want me to answer it?” 

Seungcheol’s tone is dangerous so you silence the call again and continue reaching for your glass. “He’ll give up.”

That isn’t typically the case but you're praying this once it is because you really don’t feel like dealing with Jae’s bullshit any more than you wish to handle a pissed off Seungcheol or get a lecture from your brother. Jeonghan, over-bearing and unhinged as he is, will talk you to death when you make a poor choice as if his entire lifestyle isn’t comprised of the ones he’s made. Better to keep him out of it too.  

Cheol will give you a piece of his mind but he’s more like your big, scary guard dog and even though you’re never on the receiving end, you know he’s got a nasty bite so you’d prefer to keep the leash short and not dangle bait before him. The last thing you need is Seungcheol winding up in a cell because of you…he toes that line enough as it is.

Unfortunately, nothing is going your way tonight and your phone lights up again. Normally you’d leave it alone but another part of you, one far and detached from who is calling, still fears the guilt of missing back-to-back calls heavens forbid something has happened.

It’s the only reason you’re answering, shouting over the noise, “You’d better be dying. What the hell do you want?”

“Baby, I just need to talk to you and you’re ignoring me,” he whines back and bile gathers at the base of your throat, “I already said I was sorry! Your friends don’t even like me so I don’t know why you asked me to come. They don’t think I’m good enough for you.”

“You’re not good enough for me,” is the first thing that comes out of your mouth, beyond caring about his feelings at this point, “You’ve proved that time and time again and I don’t need them to tell me what I already know. I’m busy. Don’t call me again.”

“Wait, wait!” he calls out to you desperately - it makes your skin crawl, “I’ll come pick you up, sweetheart. I’ll take you somewhere real nice, just us two, ok? You just stay there and I’ll come get you.”

Your face bunches up incredulously, “Don’t bother showing up now! The olive branch I extended by inviting you tonight no longer exists. I don’t want you here and I’m definitely not going anywhere just the two of us. I’m with my crew and you’re with yours,” you argue back, “That’s what you chose, so that’s what you get.”

There is silence on the end of the line and then laughter. 

“You’re lucky you’re hot because it’s a distraction from how fucking crazy you are! I swear to god, you’re just trying to piss me off so I’ll pay more attention to you! Is that what you want? Want me to drop everything to be with you? Like you don’t get enough fucking attentio-”

“Hang up,” comes a growl from your left and when you look over, Seungcheol is seething.

You don’t waste another breath except to say, “Don’t call me again,” before disconnecting..

As you tuck your phone back between your thighs you accidentally meet Jeonghan’s gaze from across the table. His eyes flick between you just having ended another call and Seungcheol who looks like he might shatter the glass in his hand at any given moment. He raises a brow, his silent way of asking if everything is okay and you wink back like it’s totally fine. No worries. Not a thing wrong or out of place. 

Which, it probably would have been if your phone hadn’t vibrated again a minute later. 

It’s just the one time so you thought it was a fluke, a misdial,  but then it buzzes again….and again. Then it’s a continually buzzing stream of new alerts so you pull your phone out and find sixteen unread messages. You don’t even bother reading them and shove the phone back between your thighs. Just. Shut. Up.

Minutes pass and you’re trying really hard to enjoy Chan’s little impromptu performance at the bar, and it sounds lovely, truly, but it’s difficult to focus on anything at all between your efforts to internally process your ex’s fucking audacity and to ignore furious heat rolling off Seungcheol’s body still so close to your own.. 

He’s wholly enraged and you can feel it.

There is maybe a solid seven minutes where your phone sits silently and you’re about to turn to speak to Jihoon and then…another text comes through. Seungcheol’s patience finally wears through and he plucks it from between your thighs before you can react. You watch quietly, not bothering to argue with him as he forces a shut down before pocketing it inside his jacket. 

You still stare at him like some admonished teenager and he stares back with a small smirk, daring you to say something. He’s not doing it to punish you - that’s the reason you don’t push back - he’s going to make sure you enjoy the night just like everyone else. He knows it’s not going to happen if you’re glued to your phone and so do you. 

Narrowing your eyes, you smirk back. “You’re giving that back later, right?”

His answering grin is troubling. “I might make you earn it.”

You toy with the idea of asking how but that line of thought is mercifully interrupted by a round of shots for the whole table being delivered and passed around. You had to wait the additional four minutes of having to sit through Hoshi giving an impromptu speech that almost dissolves to tears because he’s probably (definitely) two shots too deep and then it’s back to chaos and you’re finally free to be a part of it.

Your mood lifts tremendously over the next hour so being present in the moment with the people you love. Hao’s girlfriend Jessie passes you a sticker sheet with little glittery hearts and stars which end up all over the bar, in joshua’s hair, the tip of Jun’s nose, the bathroom walls, and some litter the dance floor. Woozi steals a couple for the back of his phone case and when you run out she supplies you with temporary tattoos. Almost everyone has at least two imprinted on their skin by the time those are run through.

When your hands are empty and your drinks all run dry, an old country western song crackles over the speakers and suddenly you’re being dragged out onto the floor by Mingyu who is hell bent on trying to replicate some old line dance you’re sure he’s fabricated in his foggy mind. Something about heels and toes, and being swung around your partner - it’s fun and somewhat terrifying when he’s nearly lifting you off the ground mid-spin. 

It’s not his fault that he’s got long legs and two left feet when he drinks so it’s mostly the two of you skipping in circles, laughing and completely out of breath, but it’s a blast. 

And then you catch something out of the corner of your eye that makes you stop dead in your tracks. Mingyu doesn’t even notice that you’ve stopped until he trips over your foot, looking down at you in confusion. “You givin’ up on me?”

“What the fuck is he doing here?” 

The voice comes from Joshua in the corner, which means somehow word spread about tonight’s falling out without you knowing, and now everyone is looking at your ex, boldly and moronically standing a few feet away from you which is several feet too close for their liking. Unsurprisingly, it’s Hoshi who’s already in his face, smiling in the most menacing fashion. “This is a private event so unfortunately for you, you’ll have to fuck off.”

Jae scoffs aloud, “I don’t give a shit about your party.”

Then his scowl twists into a smirk but it’s cruel and mirthless, his eyes falling on you and Mingyu who had at some point out of habit placed his body just in front of your own.

“I came for my girl but it looks like she’s already moved on for the night, throwing herself at one of you sorry assholes because I couldn’t make time for her. Typical.”

Mingyu anticipates you trying to step around him and quickly catches you around the waist to hold you back at the same time that Seokmin stands from his chair so quickly it falls backwards and lands with a loud clatter. “Watch your fucking mouth,” he warns menacingly. 

“Watch my mouth? I’m just pointing out that facts. I should have known that’s why she suddenly didn’t want me here,” he goes on like every pair of eyes on him aren’t glaring daggers, “Would have ruined her plans to get shit-faced and open her legs for whichever one of you looked at her first.”

Jeonghan hurls himself at Jae with an opened switchblade in his hand but, thankfully, Joshua and Jihoon catch him first, and the bastard laughs knowing none of them would let Jeonghan get close enough to do something stupid. Not with witnesses around anyway.

Jae tilts his head, speaking directly to Jeonghan with his hands in his pockets and condescention dripping from his tongue, “You’re her big brother,” he pouts, just pouring salt in the wound, “You’re really just going to sit back and allow all your friends to take turns with your little sister? The crew’s designated whor-”

He barely forms a smirk before Seungcheol appears out of nowhere and suckerpunches him in the mouth so hard the crack is audible throughout the bar. Unfortunately for Jae, he’s still conscious when he hits the ground, broken teeth and blood pouring from his maw as he screams in excruciating pain. You’re sure his jaw is broken and you’re glad. 

Absolutely no one moves to help him. Hardly even bats an eye.

Then, Seungcheol draws his leg back and kicks Jae in the stomach which means he’s not done and after what your ex just said…you’re not sure anyone in your crew will step in to stop him. You move instantly, pulling yourself out of Mingyu’s protective grip to push your way to the front where you’re relieved to see Vernon already attempting to pull his friend away and he does but not before your ex’s hand is crushed under the sole of Seungcheol’s boot and the screaming starts anew. 

When you reach them, you immediately put yourself in the middle without hesitation, both hands against Seungcheol’s chest in an effort to calm him down before he loses it completely. One of his hands is still clenched at his side and you’re trying desperately to get him to look down at you. He doesn’t but his other hand comes up to sit at your hip and that’s enough of an acknowledgement that you relax, just slightly. 

You turn just your head to look down at Jae who’s never looked more pitiful. Covered in blood, dirt, snot, and tears. 

Seungcheol glares over your shoulder at the broken man on the floor, his arm now firmly seated around your body in a possessive display as he growls, “Always running your fucking mouth,” then he nods in your brother’s direction, “I should let him cut your tongue out.”

Jeonghan’s knife spins dangerously between his deft fingers like he’s itching to use it. 

He’s no longer restrained, nearly deranged, and begins stalking toward your ex who flinches away and frantically shakes his head, unable to speak with his mangled mouth. Your voice cuts clear into the charged air. “Jeonghan,” you call out and your brother stops mid-step to look up at you patiently. You shake your head at him and he concedes but the fire in his eyes is palpable. 

He smiles down at Jae, voice lilting and deadly. “You’re safe…for now,” he tilts his head, crouching down to get closer, “And don’t bother running back to your crew for help or hope for some form of retaliation,” He pauses, covering his mouth with his knife, giggling with feral delight dancing in his eyes, “I bet you didn’t tell them where you were going or who you were fucking with because they never would have let you come and I can only imagine how pissed they’re going to be when they find out.”

Jae’s brows furrow indicating his confusion and Jeonghan laughs again, wiggling his long fingers, tapping them with the point of his blade. “How do you think your ring leader lost two fingers on his right hand? That pretty scar down the side of his face? It was an improvement if you ask me,” he croons and Jae’s eyes widen with renewed horror, “Loyal little lap dog ever since and hilariously, still harboring a rather sweet crush on my darling sister. Small world, huh? We’ll be sure to let him know how you feel about her and who’s responsible for,” he waves his hand with an air of distaste, gesturing to Jae, “This.”

When Jeongan stands again, his smile falls flat and you turn your head quickly, tucking it into Cheol’s chest when you hear the crunch and subsequent thud as your brother stomps and knocks Jae out cold. It’s cruel, perhaps, but now knowing who exactly he’s been working for, you’d consider this a mercy compared to wait awaits him.

Seungcheol lifts his chin with a silent order and Junhui and Mingyu are already stepping forward to haul Jae’s unconscious form out of the bar with Joshua leisurely striding behind them, Jae’s phone in hand. They’ll dump him outside, a few blocks away. He’s lucky they’re not animals - Josh will use Jae’s phone to deliver a personal message to his crew but beyond that, he’s no longer your crew’s problem. Retaliation isn’t even a concern in this situation.

The atmosphere is obviously soured and you can still feel the rage swirling in the air. There isn’t a single member of your crew who wouldn’t have loved a turn. Even Minghao, calm and even, the most level-headed in situations like this has a particular air of cruelty about him in the moment and Jessie at his side tucks away a glittering pair of brass knuckles. You don’t have to glance around to they are waiting for an order and Cheol still has his eyes focused on the door. There are also a few patrons who are not associated with your crew, the kind who know when to mind their business, but even they seem to be waiting to be told what to do next.

So, you clear your throat and try to paint on a pretty smile.

“Pardon the interuption,” you sigh, each head in the room swiveling in your direction, “Turn the music up and order another round for the whole bar,” you glance up to find Seuncheol already looking down at you and you pat his chest, “Drinks are still on the big guy so you’d better take advantage while he’s still feeling generous.”

Thankfully, its enough to get everyone moving again, your crew falling right back into the party swing as if nothing happened. It was so easy for them to flip the switch sometimes. From volatile back to joyous - back to shots, and karaoke, and dancing. 

Seungcheol was still furious though. He doesn’t bounce back nearly as fast.

“Why don’t we take a walk out back?”

He doesn’t budge for a moment and you say his name a little more firmly this time to which he reponds, “Yeah, yeah. I’m sorry. Let’s go.”

No one asks questions or follows the two of you when he takes your hand and leads you out the back and into the crisp night air. It’s dark but the moon etches just enough light that you can still see each other easily. Seungcheol’s shoulders are tense and you watch his fists clench and unfurl methodically. They’re also red and angry after making direct contact with Jae’s teeth. The thought makes your gut roil.

“Choi Seungcheol,” you lightly grumble, “You can’t go around hospitalizing every asshole that is mean to me.”

Nothing at first and then there’s a little huff of laughter. “I can absolutely do just that, or worse. Besides, I only hit him once.”

“You broke his jaw…and probably a few ribs with that kick,” you sigh and lean back against the building, glancing up at the sky. “My point is that I know you can but that doesn’t mean you should. If you get arrested, who’s gonna take care of me?”

He smirks. “Spoiled.”

“Your fault,” you roll your eyes and really look at him. “I didn’t know he was working for Kaito, obviously. You know I would’ve cut him off completely If I had.”

“I didn’t know either,” he admits, shrugging off your surprise, “Jeonghan must have found out and kept it to himself. You know how he likes to hold onto things until its useful. Your brother is kind of a sadistic asshole sometimes.”

“Hannie is just eccentric and has weird hobbies,” you counter with a small grin, “Besides, he’s your best friend so think about what that says about you.”

He just winks in response. It’s maddening and attractive, per usual. 

“Mhm,” you hum quietly, pleased to watch him unwind in front of you, because of you. “I’m glad to see you’re in a better mood,” you tease him, “I thought for a few that you might have been mad at me.”

Cheol lets out a long sigh and digs his hands into his pockets. “I’m never mad at you.”

You cross your arms and quirk a brow at him, “That’s a blatant lie and you know it. I can’t even count how many times you’ve chewed my ass out for one thing or another.”

“The handful of times that I have yelled at you came directly after you did something dangerous,” he argues back with a short laugh, “Calling your ex, that fucker in particular, makes me question your judgement and maybe your sanity, but it’s not a reason for me to be mad at you. If anything it’s mild frustration.”

You narrow your eyes at him. It’s more than mild. “Say what you need to say, Cheol.”

He squares his shoulders, face serious much like his tone. “You’re too smart to keep choosing assholes that let you down over and over again. So, why do you do it?”

You purse your lips. “Touche,” he’s not wrong, “I am self aware enough to admit my track record is shit but there is not a lot to work with. It’s not as though our dating pool is stellar, Cheol. We’re lowlifes…we associates with other lowlifes. Nice boys like girls like me until they realize I’m not worth the trouble.”

He sputters out a laugh and steps closer, just enough to lower his voice in the echoing alley way. A touch closer and you could probably steal a little body heat you’re starting to wish for. “You are the trouble,” his eyes sparkle when he says it, like its a compliment, “Nice boys too soft for you anyway and we’re not lowlifes…we just live a little differently. You can do better,” he smirks when you roll your eyes again, “You can…you just don’t.”

You uncross your arms and spread them out before you. “Oh, any suggestions? I forgot you were a dating expert-” then you break into a laugh and Cheol is throwing his head back, knowing what’s coming. “Oh, wait! I forgot. You’ve not had a girlfriend in what? Five years? Eight?”

He snatches both your hands out of the air and pushes them back toward your chest, trying to reign in his amusement and overall urge to smother you. “You’re high maintenance enough. Why the hell would I need a girlfriend? I’ve got enough on my plate.”

You reach out and lightly punch him in the chest. “You’re a big boy, Cheol. Don’t let me hold you back. I can handle myself.”

At this, he snorts and pulls a hand out of his pocket to point at you. “You can handle yourself? Did I not pick you up in a police station two months ago for speeding…again?”

You pull off the wall with your mouth open to defend yourself and he abruptly pushes you right back against it and continues. “Who taught you how to drive and took the blame when you ran over Jeonghan’s bike when you were fifteen? Who showed up at three in the morning to pick your drunk ass up at that halloween party just so you could puke in my car and my bed…all night?” he pushes closer and lowers his voice “Who bailed you out of jail four months ago when you took a glass bottle to someone’s head in club and it turned out to be a fucking cop?”

“He looked like any other perv fondling girls on the dance floor!” You shout, eyes wide and wild as if someone would overhear, “How was I supposed to know he was a cop?! And why does it matter? He was a creep and I’d do it again!”

Seungcheol is simply dissolving into laughter, his earlier shit mood absolutely erased, and then as your volume grows he starts attempting to shush you though it’s half-assed. 

“Shhhh,” he laughs even harder, “I know, I know. I’m just teasing,” he grins when you finally crack a small smile, “Honestly, I was so proud of you that night. Took fifteen stitches to sew him back together and I hear it’s left a big ugly scar.”

You scoff in disbelief at his blatant pride. “Proud?! You chewed my ass out the entire way home.”

“Quit doing dangerous shit without me,” he shrugs unapologetically, “If you’re gonna get yourself in trouble, at least make sure I’m there to back you up.”

You roll your eyes, placing your cool hands under your chin to warm them. A cold wind whips through the alley, tossing his soft black hair around. Naturally, he steps into the wind’s path, blocking you from the worst of it because that’s what he does. It grants you the opportunity to slide a little closer and he chuckles, catching on very quickly to what you’re trying to do. Use him as both a human shield and personal heater. 

He looks down at you with that soft gaze you know is only reserved for you. As you’ve grown older together, you’ve learned that it’s best to avoid basking in it for more than a few seconds at a time. Your eyes dart down to his chest and back up again, not quite meeting his eyes this time. “It’s colder than I thought it would be tonight.”

He pulls your jacket a little tighter around you. “We can go back inside if you want.”

Whatever you want - it’s always whatever you want. Sometimes you just want to know what Seungcheol wants.

You hold eye contact with him now, just watching to see if his expression changes at all. It’s almost dizzying, staring at one another so closely. A stupid decision on your part, honestly.

“What if I asked you to take me home?”

Simple. “We can go home. Just gotta grab my key-”

You shake your head with a small laugh. “Actually, I think we should go back in and sing karaoke.”

His lips pull up, always quick to pick up on the game. “What song? I love karaoke.”

“Liar. You hate karaoke,” you grin, “Why do you give into anything I ask?”

His smile is so beautiful - it always has been. 

“I do not give into everything,” he corrects you and then huffs in amusement, “Go ahead, try your luck but put some actual thought into it. You know most things are negotiable for lowlifes like us.”

“Great! So, you’ll let me drive your car tomorrow night?” you bat your eyes at him soo prettily. It’s in the bag.

He hardly budges. “No,” comes from those plump lips more clearly than you’ve ever heard it in your life and you instinctually pout like a child which amuses him. “I said put some actual thought into it. You’re a terrible driver.”

“You also said to try my luck,” you answer and it comes out more like a grumble, “Which has apparently abandoned me tonight.” 

The way you drop your shoulders and pull yourself inward knocks him off kilter and his smile drops in a split second. When he speaks again, his voice is just a touch deeper - less playful, more gentle. The change is so slight that anyone else would miss it but you’ve got that shift of his rooted in your memory at this point. 

“Your luck? Maybe,” he tips his head in consideration, close enough that he’s slipped his arms around you, big hands splayed comfortingly against the middle of your back, “I’m still here though.”

You know you should put some space in between your bodies right now but that little voice that is usually telling you to mind your boundaries is so far away in the moment that you do the opposite. Closing the distance, you look up at him as you slip your hands around his waist beneath his jacket. “Yeah, you’re always here for me. Aren’t you?”

When he dips his head closer, his tone is surprisingly serious. “I hope that’s not an actual question at this point.”

His free hand comes up to catch the back of your neck as you move to pull away, to ask him to explain or just to confirm that what you’re feeling is mercifully mutually, but you’re trapped - body painted against Seungcheol’s in the moonlight. It’s probably the most intimate position you’ve ever been in with him and your heart thrashes in your chest.

“I’ve always been right here,” his nose and lips brush your cheek as he speaks, “Patiently waiting.”

“Waiting for what?” you ask too softly but he smiles, you can feel it against your skin.

“For you to get tired of playing house,” He chides gently, “You already have a home with me and you know it.”

To say it out loud for the first time is almost staggering for Seungcheol and it’s a devastating revelation for you. Each time you tried dating someone new it had felt like a cheap replacement to distract you from the despairing thoughts of loving Seungcheol and him not loving you back, but he was there. Watching, waiting, already belonging to you in every way the entire time. 

The first sound out of your mouth is escaped laughter. It’s soft and disbelieving. 

Seungcheol smiles as he pulls back enough to see your face. “You genuinely didn’t know?”

You shake your head back and forth, still laughing, and the dimples in his cheeks pinch as he’s rolling his eyes at you, snickering to himself. “You’re the worst. I seriously thought you were playing dumb on purpose,” he groans, though his hands meet in the middle of your back now, comfortably laced like he plans on staying this way for a while. “Tell me. Who are all those idiots in there to you?”

Easy. “They’re my brothers.”

“And who am I?”

Your lips twitch and he smirks. “You’re just…Seungcheol,” saying it makes everything so plain and simple. So obvious. “You’re my Seungcheol.”

“Exactly. Have I ever felt like a brother to you? Like just a friend?” he prods, pretty white teeth still on display. He’s going to drive his point home like always. 

“Listen, jerk,” you poke him in the chest with a long sigh, “Of course you never felt like those things to me. I didn’t want to see you as just a friend and definitely not as a brother, gross,” you grimace at the thought, “But just because I felt that way about you doesn’t mean I thought you felt the same. I thought it was all very one-sided and I was just going to eventually get over it.”

He raises a single brow. “And,” he blinks pointedly, “Have you gotten over it yet?

“Unfortunately not.”

“Good.”

Good because he’s truly out of patience at this point and he’s going to make sure you know exactly how he feels without question. 

And that’s how you find yourself caged up against the wall outside the bar, Seungcheol’s lips hungirly claiming your own. His hands trace your body outside your clothing until he gets tired of the separation and you jolt feeling his cold hands against your waist beneath your shirt. There isn’t a second of stillness. He’s constantly moving, shifting, giving, taking. 

You’re no better. 

The second he kissed you it was like a flood of energy zapping each and every one of your nerves. After your lips, your arms were quickly in motion, wrapping around his neck and shoulders. Fingers threading through and tugging at his hair. He touched you and kissed you so thoroughly that despite the fact that is freezing and you’re indeed, exposed outside while your friends are just on the other side of that back door, you want more. 

More, more, more. 

Seungcheol does too. 

“Let’s go,” he mumbles between your lips, still too enthralled to pull away. 

It makes you laugh, though it’s a little delirious because he’s back to sucking and biting pretty little marks onto your neck, and you peel your eyelids open to see the fog from your breath as you speak. “It’s Seok’s birthday,” your mouth pops open with a silent gasp as he bites you again, “We can’t just leave.”

He drags himself back up and meets your eyes, grinning, “Like hell we can’t. Go get in my car,” he digs his keys out of his pocket and passes them over, “I’ll let the boys know we’re leaving.”

You stand there for a moment, keys in your outstretched hand, “Wait!” you realize he’s already opening the door. He’s so serious. “What are you going to tell them?”

He shrugs, “That we have better things to do.”

Appalling. “Seungcheol!”

Now he’s smirking. “Alright, alright. I’ll tell them we’re leaving and going back to my place to fu-”

“SEUNGCHEOL!”

“You don’t want me to lie and you don’t want me to tell the truth,” he blinks back at you, “I am not sure what you want from me, baby.”

Well. Brain melted. If he’s calling you ‘Baby’ he can do whatever he damn well pleases. 

“I’ll be waiting,” you laugh, quickly spinning on your heel before you drag him away and he doesn’t get a chance to tell anyone you’re leaving. They probably wouldn’t notice for a few hours anyway. You shake your head, hurrying your steps toward his car. 

It feels like you’re waiting an eternity but it’s only been a few minutes and when you glance out the window he’s already hurrying back. You’re not sure if he just caught the first person he saw and told them to pass it on or if he walked in and announced it to the entire bar but you honestly don’t care. You’re maybe fifteen minutes from the garage, Cheol’s permanent (and your home away from) home. He’ll probably make it in eight with the way he drives. 

“I’m surprised to not find you in the driver’s seat,” he laughs, shutting the door and immediately bringing the car to life. 

“You’re the better driver and I’d like to get there quickly.”

Smirking, he smoothly backs out of his parking space and peels out onto the road. “I think you’re plenty good at speeding. If your record has anything to say about it.”

You roll your eyes at him. “Ok, so you’re better at speeding and not getting caught. This is why I handle the other business aspects.”

His hand slips over the middle and lands on your thigh, kneading and flexing possessively. 

Watching you handle business has always intrigued and infuriated him. You’ve swindled awful men out of house and home - lining your crew’s pockets with all the spoils. It had always been a fine line between letting you work while recognizing how good you were at your job and trying not to strangle every dickhead who thought that fake smile you gave them was genuine. “Might have to retire you now.”

You pout in his direction knowing his moody comment is nothing more than his protective, if not slightly dominant, nature coming through. He’s not at all serious, even if he’d like to be. “You gonna take care of me so I don’t have to work anymore?”

He grins at the suggestion. “You know I’ll take care of you, baby. Minghao is plenty good-looking. We’ll start using him instead.”

You snort at the thought. “You’re better off sending, Jeonghan. He's pretty, charming, and he knows exactly how to get what he wants out of anyone. Why do you think I’m so good at it? Learned from the best.”

“Yeah,” Cheol turns, the wheel smoothly gliding through his hand, “I don’t typically have to worry about you stabbing or torturing anyone though.”

“Typically?” you turn in surprise, laughing, “Are you saying it has been a concern?”

He looks at you with a brow quirked. “Once or twice,” he scoffs, “You are way more like your brother than you realize.”

“Oh? You got a thing for him too?”

He snickers in response, shaking his head. “Little shit.”

He squeezes the meat of your thigh again and you realize he’s shifted his hand higher, his fingers spread wide, the pads biting into your jeans. “Quit flirting with me and drive faster.”

The only sound that follows is his quiet amusement and the roar of the engine. 

Pulling into the garage, you’re feeling too charged from the quiet, electrifying tension. It makes you feel jerky, like every movement of your body takes too much effort and every surface you touch shocks your skin. You’re already eyeing the stairs leading up to his loft but he’s taking his sweet time coming around the front of his car, waiting for the garage doors to roll back down. You want to barrel straight into him but you don’t exactly trust your legs to carry you. 

The doors close with a loud thud and he looks over at you still standing near the passenger door. “You look nervous,” he smiles softly, making his way around the car until his hands are seated over your hips. “We don’t have to-”

“No, no, that’s not it,” you huff out a laugh, “I think all the anticipation made my body stop working. Everything is tingly and sharp, and I don’t think I can move. Stop laughing at me!”

He can’t. Seungcheol is simply beside himself. You really can’t blame him. Truly, too horny and excited to walk? That’s got to be a new one. It certainly is for you. 

“I can carry you, it’s fine.”

But he is still shaking with laughter and we’re talking a whole ass flight of stairs. It’s not fine, though Cheol is already scooping you up and you're frantically trying to situate yourself on his back because that seems like the safest option and you’re already off the ground. He’s not putting you back down until you’re both behind closed doors. 

“Oh my god,” you bury your face in his shoulder as he takes the first few steps up the stairs, “This is such a bad idea!”

His hands are firmly seated beneath your thighs and your arms are wrapped so tightly around his shoulders that you’re not even shifting much as he carries you but it’s nerve wracking and honestly, a bit embarrassing. He’s incredibly proud and stubborn so there really is no hope in convincing him to put you down anyway.

“Stop panicking,” he laughs, now halfway up the stairs, “I’m not even struggling so your lack of faith in me is hurting my feelings. You act like you’ve never seen me workout. I do it for a reason.”

“I thought the reason was just because you like to beat people up.”

He huffs in amusement, “Fighting isn’t fun when you’re not winning.”

“Well, you always win so you must be having a blast,” you pinch his earlobe, rolling your eyes since he can’t catch you doing it.

When he reaches the landing, he digs into his pocket, unlocking the door with one hand and then kicking it shut once you’re both inside. Then he lets you slide down his back but before your feet actually hit the ground, he’s spinning around to pick you right back up. He laughs at the sound you make, quickly grabbing his shoulders and crossing your ankles at his back. Cheol flips the lock on the door and takes you into the small kitchen, setting you down on the counter. 

“I always win when you’re watching,” he plants his hands on either side of you, leaning closer, “You get mad at me when I don’t, so, I stopped losing.”

He looks up at you with a boyish grin and you bring your hands up, lightly touching his cheeks with your finger tips. You’ve seen his soft skin mottled with bruising more times than you cared to think about. “I don’t care about losing,” you murmur, lost in thought, “I just hate it when you get hurt.”

Tracing a finger over his right brow you remember that night years ago when he returned from a job with it split wide open, blood dripping down his pale face. Busted lips, fractured ribs, a dislocated shoulder, and an awful limp. It was the first time you ever saw him so…broken.

You yelled at him for getting hurt but cradled his face in your hands the whole time. While Minghao sutured it closed, you continued cursing at him and everyone else who’d gone out that night but you never let go of his hand. When Joshua reset Cheol’s shoulder and he nearly passed out from the pain, you sobbed. For days you’d been furious with him yet you stayed over at his place for almost two solid weeks to take care of him. 

Putting him back together with your own two hands was the only way you could convince yourself that he was okay and from then on, you accompanied him on most jobs. Anytime things got messy, he’d come out victorious, and the very few times you weren’t there, he returned nearly unscathed. Bloodied knuckles at most. 

Your fingers must have drifted down to his lips because he kisses them and it brings you back to the present. He smiles against your fingertips and you move them under his jaw, out of the way, just so you can kiss him again. It’s soft, slow, adoring and his hands slide into place right at your lower back, his fingers pushing beneath your shirt to stroke your skin. 

When they make contact, his fingers spread wide, pulling you closer to the edge of the counter. It makes your back arch, pitching your hips forward, and leaves you sitting poised for the taking but even then he takes his time. In the back of your mind, you’re sure he can feel your heat against his groin and it must be driving him just as insane as it does you.

Despite the body heat, when he pushes your shirt up a little further with his busy hands, you shiver at how cold you still are. It’s accompanied by a breathy little gasp that makes him pull away grinning, eyes still watching your mouth. “Still cold?”

“Yeah,” you admit, “Do you ever turn the heat on in this place?”

“Only when you’re here. I don’t usually need it.”

Of course not. Big manly man. 

“You’re going to need it if you’re still hoping to get my clothes off.”

Cheol pays no mind to your change in tone. The one you use to nag him to death. Instead he scoops you right off the counter, starting toward his bedroom. “I can warm you up myself just fine,” he says in an equally haughty kind of way. 

The kind of way that shuts you up because the only other thing that you could possibly manage is some pathetic giggle. He even makes a show of hanging onto to you with only one arm because he’s just so strong and you humor him with an ‘oh wooooow’ that makes him crack, laughing as he lets you slowly drop to the floor.

Your hand remains on his chest, nervously pinching at his shirt as you look around the room. You’ve been in here before just…not for anything like this. “Why does this feel normal and not normal at the same time,” you pause, realizing there is actually something different that you hadn’t noticed right away. 

Seungcheol let’s his hands drop away so you can walk over to his dresser to sate your…curiosity? Surprise? “You said I needed more personal decorations around the house,” he clears his throat, watching as you carefully lift his picture frames off the furniture to examine them, “I figured pictures were personal enough.”

There is one of Cheol as a teenager standing proudly beside his first car. Another with a few members of the crew all grinning around a card table. You loosen a soft laugh remembering that night clearly. Mingyu and Hoshi shouting over the table like banshees…all because Hoshi got caught cheating and blamed it on his favorite designated target. 

You pick up one you don’t recognize but smile at the familiar faces hanging out of the windows of a car you do recognize vaguely. The job details were hazy but you know you remember that car for some reason.

Seungcheol must have noticed you squinting at it because he comes over and stands behind you, pointing at the picture. “You don’t remember this one because you broke into a case of wine coolers the moment we were all home and accounted for,” he chuckles, his breath tickling your cheek, “Almost seven years ago now.”

“I hated waiting for you guys to come home,” you pout, pointing to the picture, “Why do I remember this car though? It’s so familiar.”

He laughs again and this time you spin toward him like the reason he is laughing is clearly painted on his face. It’s not but he fills in the blanks without prompting.

“Jeonghan caught you in the backseat of that exact car making out with Seungkwan, of all people,” Cheol grins at your grimace “We hauled you both off to bed, tucked you in, and agreed not to tell a soul. I honestly don’t think he knows about it either. You guys were wasted.”

“I definitely do not remember doing that but I did oddly stop drinking wine coolers not long after that night,” you sigh, tucking away the embarrassing story to kick your self over later.

“Guilty subconscious?” 

Shrugging off your jacket you give him a fake laugh which eventually morphs into a grin. “Were you jealous back then?”

He takes your lead, removing his clothes one piece at a time. “I was always jealous,” he admits and you let yourself stop to watch as he grabs at the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head. It leaves him only in his jeans, belt already unbuckled. 

You’re the opposite, jeans kicked to the side, but your hands rest on your shirt, too busy looking at Seungcheol to force yourself to keep moving. He’s no better, eyes glued to your hips, to your underwear, your legs, and then his eyes bounce back up to your face, finally noticing the way you’re looking at him.

He takes a slow step forward and then another.

“I’m not perfect,” he cautions, another step closer, “I’m stubborn and jealous,” one more step until you’re touching, “I don’t like sharing. If one of the guys flirts with you, even as a joke, I’ll probably rip their head off. Might happen more than once but I’ll get over it eventually, I promise.”

“Hmm,” you smirk as he stops so closely you can feel the heat coming of his body, “A little sensitive?”

“Maybe.” His smile is so pretty and disarming because now his hands are on you, palms rubbing circles into your hips before sliding back and down over your ass. “You’ve been chipping away at my self control for over a decade and now you’re half-naked in my bedroom. I’ve hit my breaking point, baby. I’m going to be selfish with you.”

You shift just enough to pull your shirt over your head, tossing it in the general direction of your pants, and settle your arms around his shoulders. “I think it’s only fair because I have always been selfish with you and i’ll be so much worse now,” you grin and he let’s out a heavy, husky chuckle, tightening his thick arms around you, “I’m going to be a menace.”

“I like the sound of that.”

“I’m still cold.”

Then he’s kissing you again, your hands quickly moving from his shoulders to his waist, pushing his jeans as low as you can before he’s forced to part and pull them the rest of the way off, laughing and stumbling with you toward the bed. You land first, quickly shuffling under the comforter for warmth and he’s right behind you, rolling you onto your back to cover you with his body. It’s an added layer of heat and you wiggle beneath him when his thigh pushes between your legs. 

Seungcheol wants everything all at once and hates having to choose but loves knowing he’ll get the opportunity to do it all in good time. For now, he can’t seem to keep away from your lips, can’t stop the noises he makes everytime you tug at his hair or scrape your nails against his back and he hopes to god they leave bright red scratches in their wake. 

He wants to watch you get shy and embarrassed when he works out with them on full display. His ego is a beast and it’s going to be riding a high for a while.

When you push up against him, he gives you a little space to quickly undo your bra before it’s tossed to the floor and he’s slipping a little lower, his face pressed against your soft, warm chest. His mouth dances from one breast to the other and you moan into the open air of his bedroom, one of your hands still rubbing his back, smoothing over his muscles mindlessly. His perfect teeth graze your nipples and you grind down against his thigh. 

He pushes it higher and repeats the action over and over until you’re steadily working yourself up and then he shifts, taking that relief away from you. Your eyes pop open in surprise but he kisses you again before you can speak and his right hand slides into your panties, wet and uncomfortably cool against your folds now that his thigh is gone. 

He doesn’t waste time, running his middle and ring finger up and down until they’re so slick-coated that there is hardly any resistance when he slips them inside you, stroking up against that spot that has you arching your back off the bed. It’s almost cruel how quickly he gets you there and even worse that he hardly touches your clit before you come, stars flashing behind your eyes. 

Seungcheol kisses your face through it, whispering sweet, filthy praises against your skin. That’s my girl, you’re so fucking good for me, baby. Sound so pretty right now, wanna hear you say my name just like that.

It’s a miracle you don’t come again the second he pushes into you because he doesn’t stop talking unless his mouth is occupied and he’s too good at multitasking. The only time you get a break from his wicked words is when he’s bottoming out and your ears are ringing so loudly that you can’t even hear him anymore. He must realize it too because his mouth was moving and now, he’s just grinning, eyes trained on your lips when he draws his hips back a little and pushes back in. 

His pace varies because he likes watching the breath get caught in your throat, breaking up the gorgeous sounds spilling from your lips. For all the taunting and talking he’s done, he’s just as worked up as you are and suddenly sits up on his knees which changes the angle. He spreads your thighs further apart, almost crudely, and props your ass a bit higher. At first, he wraps his hands around your thighs for leverage, digging his fingers into your skin but it’s not enough, he needs more. 

When he moves his hands to either side of your waist, he locks in the perfect position to go as deep as possible and the sounds you begin making are far more desperate, the pitch swinging higher and higher until he’s moaning and panting, driving into you faster and harder than before. You know you’re going to come again, and fast, so when your eyes meets his, and he purses his lips, letting spit drop from his plump lips onto your clit, he doesn’t have to tell you aloud what to do. 

You bring your own hand down, rubbing yourself until your limbs start twitching. Your breaths are so shallow and ragged, your fingertips messily bumping against the base of his cock where he plunges in and out of your cunt recklessly. He looks just as far gone as you do but the second your eyes meet, he smirks and it’s your absolute undoing. 

When you orgasm for the second time it’s so intense that all of your muscles lock up aside from your legs which shake uncontrollably and Seungcheol groans, hips stuttering when he feels the overabundance over warm liquid spilling out around his cock, splashing against his groin and stomach, dripping onto the bed. He stills, filling you so completely full that you can’t even breath without adding to the mess you’ve both created. 

It takes several long minutes of heavy panting and blinking to get your heads on straight and he still doesn’t pull out. Not even when he slumps down against you, grinning and kissing you lazily. He’s doesn’t give a single fuck about the mess, even going to so far as pumping his hips a few times, laughing when you hide your face under your arm at the lewd sounds echoing through the room. 

It’s playful at first, those half-hearted thrusts, but then his kisses turn into little nips, his mouth starts spilling those dirty words in your ear and it’s not long until you can feel him getting hard inside of you again, having never pulled out in the first place. He keeps fucking into you slowly, swallowing the sound of your whining, revelling in the way your nails no longer just rake over his skin but painfully dig into it over his shoulder blades. 

He doesn’t stop. Doesn’t speed up. Doesn’t give you the chance to wiggle away from him when the sharp tingling of overstimulation bleeds into, “Oh, fuck, Cheol, I’m gonna come again…fuck…”

And you do until tears stream down your face and he pulls out, flips you over, and puts it right back in, fucking you brutally until he’s moaning and cumming, and you’re nearly ready to pass out in the bed you’ve both absolutely ruined. You hear him speaking but can’t make out the words and then maybe your eyes close because you’re sated and exhausted. 

It doesn’t last long though because Seungcheol is attempting to drag you from sleep because he needs to clean you both up and change the sheets before anyone crashes for the night but you’re not budging. 

Until you feel the sensation of thick fingers pushing into your cunt and you mumble aloud, “Absolutely no…straight to jail.”

Seungcheol laughs at you having not even moved when you said it and removes his hand. “I tried waking you up nicely and you kept ignoring me. Besides, it’s all starting to spill out and I like seeing you full. If you keep laying here I’m going to end up fucking it all back in and giving you more.”

Rolling onto your back takes an incredible amount of willpower and Cheol’s helping hands because your hips are stiff as all hell. He’s patient, not pushing beyond your limits even though you’re sure he could go a few more rounds without tiring in the least. Affection swirls in your chest and it takes him by surprise when you reach a hand up and around his neck to pull him down to your lips. 

HIs body relaxes into the bed, pressing his weight more firmly into the mattress to keep the pressure light where it covers your own. He kisses you tenderly, his hands moving softly and slowly over your skin, and your mind is emptied of all but the feel of him. It’s overwhelming, how deeply attuned you are to one another and yet your body continues to demand more. 

Your kiss is broken off in a choked moan, Seungcheol’s, when your hand snakes between your bodies. He drops his forehead to yours, taking in a deep, shaky breath when you rub the head of his cock into the mess between your folds. “Again?” he questions, even as his hips push forward of their own accord. 

“Again…” you breathe out, tipping your face up to catch his bottom lip with a gentle nip, “..and again, and again, and agai-”

The delirious smile on your face drops open as he pushes back inside. Your tight, swollen cunt aches with the intrusion but each shockwave that pulses through you is laced with pointed pleasure. The effort to keep his pace even and gentle is difficult but Cheol finds very quickly that there is something incredibly arrousing about slow, deep, intimate fucking. 

He’s never experienced anything like it because he’s never had you. 

Yet here you are beneath him, clawing at his back and shoulders, moaning against his throat, and he knows it will only ever be like this with you. He knew he was ruined for all others years ago but in this moment he fully understands the weight of it. 

Seungcheol will never want anyone but you.

And when you unravel together again, you look into his eyes and know it too.

The next morning it takes an unprecidented amount of effort to wake up.

Your body aches and joints pop in too many places when you stretch your limbs as if you’ve been asleep for years and not mere hours. It’s easy to pinpoint the loss of warmth at your side, Seungcheol hardly ever sleeps in and it’s evident by the smell of fresh coffee wafting in through the open bedroom door. 

Slipping into the shirt he’d left you and your jeans from last night, you wander in and out of the bathroom and head straight to the kitchen. Cheol knows you don’t drink coffee but you do love the smell of it so the sight of a full, almost untouched pot makes you laugh. His mug sits abandoned in the sink so you rinse it out and refill it, carefully balancing the full cup in your hands as you leave his apartment and head down the stairs into the garage. 

Joshua is the first person you find, unsurprising as he never seems to get hungover no matter how much he drinks the night before. He’s sitting at one of the work tables pouring over a set of blue prints for a new job when you walk by, chuckling and swatting away your hand when you ruffle his hair. “Morning Joshie.” He waves over his shoulder as you keep walking.

It’s relatively quiet in the garage for a Saturday morning but most of your crew is probably passed out from the evening prior. You would have stayed in bed longer too if someone wasn’t missing from it - someone you still haven’t found. Instead, you happen upon Jeonghan and Mingyu working on an engine…you think…again, not your expertise. 

“Well, well, well,” Jeonghan drawls as he catches you approaching from the corner of his eye, “If it’s not my darling little sister,” he grins and leans over to kiss your cheek when you stop in front of him, “Whatever are you doing here, in the garage, smelling like sex and coffee, so early on this delightful Saturday morning?”

You give your brother a deadpan stare and Mingyu snickers behind him. 

“Where’s Cheol?”

“Bringing in another delivery with Jun in the back,” Mingyu mumbles half-way under the hood with tools in hand, “Should be finishing up soon.”

Jeonghan leans against the car and crosses his arms. “Is this an official thing?”

You know he’s only asking because he loves you both so deeply that if there were any chance of it being a fling where feelings are inevitably going to be trampled, he’s putting an end to it immediately. He’s so fiercely protective that he’d step in to protect you from yourselves without hesitation.

“That man would have to be thirty feet deep in the ground to leave me.”

“Isn’t the saying ‘six-feet deep’?” Mingyu laughs, still focusing on his task.

“I said what I said and honestly thirty-feet still might not be enough - you’ll probably have to bury me with him.”

Jeonghan relaxes, shrugging off the tension in his body with a loose laugh. “Good to know,” he grins, eyes soft and gentle once more, “I always knew you’d end up together once you both gave up the world’s most stubborn ass competition.”

He’s not wrong. Who knew a little communication could go a long way? Certainly not you and Cheol.

Two cars pull up outside the open garage door across the way and you wiggle your fingers in greeting when Vernon, Hoshi, Wonwoo and Jihoon all pop out looking absolutely exhausted. You turn and set Cheol’s mug down on the counter behind you and pull out a stool to take a seat and hang out. 

“Wonwoo wouldn’t let us stop for breakfast please tell me there are still leftovers from lunch in the fridge,” Hoshi complains loudly. He absolutely still looks a little drunk.

Jihoon shoves him to the side and makes a beeline for the fridge around the corner, the two of them cursing and bickering as they go. Wonwoo and Vernon pull up a stool next to you and now you’re feeling a little guilty for only bringing one mug down. 

“Where’s Cheol?” Wonwoo asks, pushing his glasses up and shaking out his messy hair.

Jeonghan tosses a thumb in his direction, “Delivery.”

Wonwoo nods and Vernon taps your shoulder. “Hey, you’re here kinda early. Where did you go last night? Lost you at some point.”

Your cheeks heat. There are some of the guys you make crude jokes with and some you don’t - both Vernon and Wonwoo being on one side while Mingyu and Jeonghan are on the opposite. “Oh, I uhhh-”

“Notice anyone else missing last night?”

“Jeonghan-”

Vernon’s brows pinch together in thought. Mingyu stands up, setting down his tools before wiping his hands on his pants. “You know,” he grins, “Guy who lives in a garage, goofy laugh, kinda mean…”

Wonwoo breaks out in hysterics and Vernon’s grin is entirely visible though you’re sure he is trying to make it disappear when he says, “Oh! Oh okay…yeah…that makes sense. So, you’re like…yeah?”

You snort in response nodding your head. “Mhm, we’re like yeah.”

“Who’s like what?” Hoshi says around a mouthful, coming up to join you with Jihoon stomping past him empty-handed to go help Joshua. 

“Her and Cheol finally got together,” Wonwoo supplies and Hoshi’s eyes light up.

“Oh my god!!! That’s so exciting!” he dances over and drops his food on the counter, which Mingyu picks up to polish off while he’s distracted. Hoshi wraps you in a bear hug you try to fight off and then you’re up and out of your chair being squeezed and swung around, “This is such great news!!!”

Thwap.

Hoshi blinks and you slide to the floor. When he touches the back of his head, it’s wet and he turns to find a rag on the ground. It takes less than two seconds to figure out who threw it because it’s Seungcheol’s thundering voice that calls out, “Put her down and get to work, asshole.”

“Asshole?” Hoshi mutters, kicking the rag, “I’m the asshole?”

Jeonghan rolls his eyes, “Oh, he’s going to be unbearable,” he smacks your arm lightly, “Hey, do us all a favor. Take him back upstairs and tie him up or something would ya?”

“Inappropriate,” you snort just before big familiar arms wrap around you from behind. 

“Morning baby,” he breathes against your hair before he’s planting a hot kiss on the side of your neck, “Sleep well?”

Everyone very quickly finds a way to mind their own business. 

“Slept just fine,” you smile, turning your head to kiss him properly. “Now apologize to Hoshi, you beast.”

He sighs, dropping his head dramatically against your shoulder. “Hoshi!” he shouts across the way, “I’m sorry. Order breakfast for everyone on me.”

“All is forgiven, bro!” Hoshi salutes him in response and the others start gathering to make their requests. Food fixes almost anything in this house.

Cheol laughs and kisses your hair. “Happy?”

“Very,” you hum, turning in his arms, “Brought you coffee but it might be cold by now.”

“That was nice of you.” Now that you’re finally getting a good look at him you see he’s wearing the dark blue cargo pant, white tank top combo that drives you fucking insane. You’ll sit for literal hours on end just to watch him work on the cars in that exact outfit. Even better when he’s got oil smatterings here and there. The thick leather gloves he sometimes has hanging out of his back posket when not in use. 

Mechanic Seungcheol is one of your favorite fantasies sprung to life.

“I wasn’t doing it out of the kindness of my own heart,” you retort, “I was trying to get something out of you in return.”

“Oh?” he smirks, “Like what?”

“Kiiiinda hoping I’d get you back upstairs for a few favors.”

His hands slide along your arms until he’s managed to bring them up and around his neck and then he’s got you caged in, clasping his own low on your back. “I’m sure we can make time for that,” he mumbles along the seam of your lips, brazenly, and very openly making out with you in the next breath like there aren’t several people in the garage along with you.

“MAKE IT QUICK. WE’VE GOT SHIT TO DO.”

Cheol tosses up a middle finger in Jeonghan’s general direction and shouts back, “Well, I’ve got your sister to do and that’s more important. Work can wait.” Your mouth pops open in amusement and he takes advantage of your distraction to hoist you up into his arms, making his way toward the stairs to his apartment again. When he speaks again, it’s only loud enough for you, “I think I’ve got just enough time to fuck you over the kitchen counter and make a fresh pot of coffee before I have to come back down, whoop your brother’s ass, and get back to work.”

“Your time management skills are-” you cling onto him a little tighter as he starts up the steps, “- very impressive.”

“You should see my oral presentation skills.”

With that in mind, you lean over his shoulder and shout down, “YOU CAN HAVE HIM BACK IN AN HOUR.”

“AN HOUR?!” Jeonghan hollers back, absolutely exasperated because he knows this is going to be an ongoing battle for months if not years on end. “WHAT PART OF WE GOT SHIT TO DO DID YOU TWO NOT UNDERSTAND?”

Cheol sighs and puts you down to open the door, hanging over the railing with a flat look on his face. “I’ll rip the transmission out of your car with my bare hands and toss it into the river if you open this door.”

Jeonghan scoffs but Cheol grins and cuts him off, “And then i’ll take the knife in your glovebox and split open every individual stitch in the interior.”

Those are serious fighting words between car guys. You think.

Jeonghan narrows his eyes and then huffs, hands on his hips. “You guys are the worst.”

Cheol blows your brother a kiss as you drag him inside and you can catch a hint of amusement on Jeonghan’s face just before you seal yourselves inside. 

You’re okay with being the worst, so is Seungcheol. 

Maybe being a couple of lowlifes isn’t such a bad thing after all.

Thanks for reading! 💖

SVT M.List | Main M.List

→ Please do NOT copy, repost, or translate, any of my works here on tumblr or on any other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, Milfgyuu, 2019. ©️

[wafflefries13]

Asking Out the Twisted Wonderland Cast (Multi TWST cast X Reader)

Summary: Sometimes, you can't just wait for good things to happen to you. Time to screw your courage to the sticking place and finally ask out that boy you like!

AN: I meant for these each to be like 200 word drabbles. Some of them kind of got away from me, lol.

Cross-posted on my AO3 TheGhostInTheKitchen

Warnings: Fluff, AFAB reader with she/her pronouns.

Part 2: First Dates

The sounds of the NRC cafeteria clattered around the group of first years. Utensils scraping on plates, sizzling from the open window to the kitchen, a hundred different conversations from all sides. Their small group sat clustered around their table, nestled close together to be heard over the general din. 

“I’m just saying,” Ace said, mouth half full. 

“You’re always ‘just saying’,” Deuce said. 

Ace shoved him. “I’m just saying, if you want to try out for the anchor position on the track team you have to actually ask for it. Get Coach Vargas and don’t stop bugging him until he sees what you can do! No one’s going to just wait for it to happen.” 

“And I’m saying it doesn't do any good to be a nuisance when I don’t even know if I’m good enough yet. I might as well wait till tryouts next semester.” 

“No, no, he’s right,” (Y/N) said, distantly. 

“Yeah!” Ace said. “Wait, right about what?” 

“You can’t just wait for stuff to happen to you. If you really want something you have to go and take it for yourself.” She stood abruptly, face determined. “I need to ask something.” 

Ace:

“Ace!” 

Ace jumped, brushing off crumbs from his jacket. “What? What did I do now?” 

“Do you want to go out with me?” 

Epel choked, Jack thumping him on the back. Deuce looked like she had just insulted his mother. Sebek rolled his eyes as he took another bite. Ortho gasped, leaning forward, eyes wide and excited. 

“I-What?” Ace stuttered, his face rapidly turning red. “Where the heck did that come from?” 

“You were just saying you shouldn’t wait for something you want. I like you, I have for a while now. So, do you want to go out?” 

Ace stuttered out a reply, slapping on his normal cocky smile but decidedly not meeting (Y/N)’s eyes. “I mean, yeah, of course you fell for me! It’s about time you said something. But, um, yeah, I’d like that. A lot.” 

“Well,” Deuce said, rolling his eyes. “It’s about time one of you said something.” 

“Hey!” Ace shouted. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

(Y/N) playfully shoved him. “Oh, please, don’t act like I haven’t noticed that you like me too. You’re not subtle about it.” 

“What made you think that?” 

“Ace, within the first week of me being here you asked to sleep in the same bed as me twice.” 

From another table, definitely not eavesdropping, Riddle fainted. 

Deuce:

“Deuce!” Deuce jumped at (Y/N) suddenly shouting his name. “I need your help with something. Can you come with me for a second?” 

“Oh, yeah, sure, of course.” Deuce ignored Ace’s pointed look. Deuce followed (Y/N) out of the cafeteria down the halls. “Where are we going?” 

(Y/N) suddenly turned around, Deuce almost colliding with her. Before he could apologize, she took his hands, looking up into his eyes as he felt blood rush to his cheeks. 

“I just wanted somewhere more private,” She said. “Deuce, I really like you. Will you go out with me?” 

“I-huh?! I mean, yeah, yes! I like you, too!” He rubbed the back of his head and looked away shyly. “Man, I wanted to ask you out first.” 

(Y/N) grinned. “Really? How were you going to do it?” 

“Well, my mom said that when my dad first asked her out he got her this big bouquet of flowers. But he ended up being allergic to them so he kept sneezing the whole time. She took him to the infirmary at their school and he had to write it down since his face was too swollen to talk.” 

“Well, I wouldn’t say no to flowers. Maybe we can skip the rest of that, though.” 

Deuce marched over to the cut out window of the hallway, opening out onto the quad. Reaching over, he plucked a fluffy pink peony from one of the bushes. He came back to (Y/N), suddenly very flustered, and held it out to her. 

“(Y/N),” He began. 

She clasped her hands together. “Yes?” 

“Would you do me the honor of - Ah!” Deuce yelped as a bee flew out of the peony blossom, shooting for Deuce’s face to sting him. 

Turns out, they did spend time in the infirmary. But, after (Y/N) kissed his cheek and gently held the flower, Deuce didn’t seem to mind too much. 

Trey: 

“Ow!” 

Trey paused outside the Heartslabyul kitchen as he heard the exclamation from inside. He was planning on testing out a new bread recipe his parents had sent him and wasn’t expecting anyone else to be using the kitchen that day. He peaked in, seeing (Y/N), Grim, Ace, and Deuce crowded around the island in the middle. (Y/N) was blowing on a burn on her hand, Grim rifling through the pantry for various sweets, and Ace and Deuce waving away smoke from a burnt pastry freshly pulled from the oven. 

“I told you!” (Y/N) said. “You can’t just raise the temperature for it to cook faster, it’ll just burn!” 

“Well, sorry for trying to make your confession go faster before you chicken out,” Ace said. 

“I’m not going to chicken out! Probably. Maybe. What if the pie burning is an omen?” 

“I wouldn’t read too deeply into it,” Trey said, entering the kitchen. The first years jumped, (Y/N)’s eyes going wide and she stared at the floor. 

“Well!” Deuce said, grabbing Ace and Grim and hurrying them out the door. “Omen or not, that’s our cue to leave. Good luck, (Y/N)!” 

Silence echoed around the two of them as the door of the kitchen thunked closed. (Y/N) fiddled with her fingers, still not looking up. Trey walked around the island, looking at the smoldering pie. There was a mostly neat lattice across the bubbling fruit, with extra crust cut into letters around the rim. 

“‘Trey,’” He read. “‘Will you-’”

“Ah! No, wait!” (Y/N) jumped forward, covering it with her hands. She jumped back as her palm accidentally hit the hot pie tin, giving her another burn. 

“Oh, wait, hang on.” Trey quickly went over to the sink, grabbing a clean towel and soaking it in cold water. He gently took her hand, pressing it to the burn. (Y/N) chewed her lip. “You know, I’d be happy to help if you want to try again. I’ve been wanting to try this new butter pie crust that’s good with custards and-”

“I really like you!” (Y/N) blurted out, face going as hot as the burn on her hand. “Would you want to go out with me? Please?” 

Trey tightened his grip on her hand, careful to avoid the injury. He smiled, laughing. “I was wondering if I should say it first. I guess you beat me to it. Yes, (Y/N), I’d love to go out with you.”  

Cater: 

Cater was relaxing in the Heartslabyul gardens, a can of red paint discarded beside him. He hummed something the pop music club had been working on as he scrolled through Magicam. He took a quick selfie, winking, tongue out with a peace sign, before refreshing his feed. 

He paused when he saw (Y/N) come across his dash. She was smiling brightly, one arm arched above her head and the other held down at an angle to create half a heart. The word ‘Will’ was written in bubbly cartoon letters in the middle. A few posts later, there was a second photo, an almost perfect mirror of the first to complete the heart. The word ‘You’ was written in the middle of this one. 

Cater almost felt like he was solving a puzzle as he searched the rest of his feed for more posts. Each had (Y/N) in a dramatic pose, adding another word to complete the sentence, ‘Go,’ ‘Out,’ ‘With’, ‘Me.’ When he realized it was a request to ask someone out, he couldn’t help but feel a little deflated. He shook his head. Of course (Y/N) would be crushing on someone. With all the adventures she had gone on during their time at NRC, it would make sense to develop strong feelings. He tried to quiet the voice in his head that hoped those strong feelings would go his way. Well, whatever, that just meant he had to keep a close eye on whoever had earned her affections, maybe give them a good threatening to treat her right while he was at it. 

Cater tapped on her name, taking him to her Magicam profile. It felt like just the other day when he was helping her set it up. He sighed at the happy memory. For a second, it occurred to him that the message (Y/N) had been spelling out in pictures didn’t end with a question mark. He thought it was weird. Was it a mistake? Then his eye caught on the latest picture, posted just a second before. 

It was a selfie of (Y/N) holding a large bouquet of yellow and orange flowers, marigolds, daisies, and buttercups. The majority of the frame was over her shoulder, showing Cater himself sitting against the hedges. His name was drawn in the same cartoon font with a question mark, surrounded by a heart.  

Cater snapped up, whirling around. He quickly whipped away the happy tears budding at the corner of his eyes as he saw (Y/N) waiting for him. The flowers were crushed between them as he scooped her up in a tight hug, both of them laughing. 

(They both carefully rearranged the flowers after to be presentable for the mandatory #TogetherForever couple photoshoot after.) 

Riddle: 

Riddle frowned at the commotion building from the Heartslabyul common room. He could make out the familiar rising sounds of Ace and Deuce’s voices. He began marching to the source of the racket, faltering a little when he heard (Y/N)’s voice joining in. Mentally scolding himself from eavesdropping  (it wasn’t eavesdropping, he was keeping tabs on his dorm mates, that’s it) he hovered near the cracked open door. 

“No, wait!” (Y/N) said. “We can’t use coral roses! I said pink!” 

Ace huffed. “What’s the difference?” 

(Y/N) tapped a small dark red book she was holding. “Coral roses symbolize desire, pink roses mean admiration and happiness. I’m not trying to scare him off before I can even ask him out!” 

Before he could even think about it, Riddle threw open the door, shouting, “Just what is going on here?” 

Everyone inside jumped. Riddle swept his eyes across the room, taking in the bundles and bundles of roses in multiple colors carefully poised on every surface. Ace and Deuce were meticulously balancing a bouquet in the chandelier, plucking out the offending coral colored roses. Cater was smirking in the corner, phone poised to capture everything. Trey chuckled behind his own large bouquet of yellow roses.. 

“Um,” She said, startled by his interruption. Taking a deep breath, she set the book down and picked up a bouquet of lavender roses, shoving them in Riddle’s direction. 

‘Lavender,’ He thought. ‘Love at first sight.’ 

“Riddle!” She said, probably a little too loudly. “I really like you! Would you go out with me?” 

The silence that followed was deafening. Cater tried to break the tension with a laugh. “Aww, (Y/N),” He said. “What happened to that whole speech you had?” 

“He surprised me!” She said. “Oh, wait, hang on, I still have it.” Without thinking, she shoved the bouquet in Riddle’s arms, searching her pockets to pull out a neatly folded piece of notebook paper. “Ahem. Riddle, I have struggled in vain and I can bear it no longer. These past few months have been a torment. I came to Heartslabuyl with the single objective to see you. I-” 

“Everyone out!” Riddle shouted. As the group scuttled to the door, he pointed at (Y/N). “Not you.” 

The door thudded behind them, Ace and Deuce giving a quick thumbs up and what was supposed to be a confident smile as they left. (Y/N) crinkled the paper in her hands. 

“It gets better,” She said meekly. “The speech. Although I guess in the movie it ends with a rejection too. I should have used the one from the end, or Shakespeare maybe. Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more - well, I guess you're not very temperate. Wait, let me try again.” 

“(Y/N),” He said. He held the lavender flowers tightly. “You know what this means?” 

“Oh, the flowers? Yeah, I, um, I’ve been studying.” She picked the book back up, shyly holding it up. Riddle could read the title now: The Queen of Hearts Guide to Courtship and Love. 

“You,” Riddle said, feeling his face heat up. He held up the flowers. “You mean it? Really?” 

(Y/N) took a step towards him, understanding softening the worry on her face. “Of course. I wanted to ask you out and I thought, well,” She waved at the multicolored roses, laughing. “Go big or go home, right?” 

“It certainly is a statement.” Riddle picked up a yellow rose with red tipping the petals and handed it to her. (Y/N) recognized the colors immediately as meaning ‘Falling in love.’ She gasped in happiness, jumping forward to wrap Riddle in a tight hug. 

Leona: 

“Ruggie!” Ruggie paused as he heard (Y/N) call his name. She jogged over to him where he held Leona’s typical boxed lunch order. “Hey, that’s for Leona, right? Do you mind if I bring it to him? There’s something important I have to talk to him about.” Ruggie considered it for a moment before shrugging and handing it over, but not before stealing a couple of chips to pop into his mouth as he strolled away. 

(Y/N) found Leona in his normal spot, a hidden alcove in the gardens in the biodome. He was laying on his back, arms crossed behind his head, and eyes closed as he dozed. He cracked his eye open as (Y/N) approached. 

“Hi,” She said, kneeling down beside him. 

“Hmm,” He replied. 

“I have something important to ask you.” 

“Are you going to try and make me get up?” “No.” 

“Alright, ask away.” 

“Will you go out with me?” 

Leona’s eyes snapped open. He pushed himself up on his elbows to stare at (Y/N), smiling sincerely at him, and maybe holding his lunch hostage until she got an answer. 

“I really like you,” She continued. “You’re brave and confident and know exactly who you are. Sure, you can be stubborn as hell, but you also really care about people close to you. Don’t make that face, you can’t fool me. You could have easily thrown me out when Grim and I needed someplace to stay when Azul took over Ramshackle, but you didn’t. You didn’t even kick us out when we were making so much noise and annoying you, you helped us break Azul’s contracts instead. You joined the Culinary Crucible because Epel did and you wanted to keep an eye on your team mate. Please, as if you ever need to learn how to cook, I know you can’t even use a microwave. And you pretend not to notice when Ruggie steals your credit card. And there was that time you followed all of us to Playful Land because you were worried we were going to get scammed. You didn’t have to do that, but you did. You’ve got a big heart of gold under that spiky exterior. And I really admire you for that. I… I really love you, Leona.” 

“Well,” Leona said, laying back down, tail flicking. “I suppose going on a date wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.” (Y/N) decided not to point out the content smile stretching across his face. She made a move to stand up, but Leona shot an arm out to hook around her waist, pulling her down next to him with an “Oof.” “Now don’t tell anyone else about all that,” Leona grumbled without any real heat. 

Ruggie: 

Ruggie was in Leona’s room, folding laundry while the house warden took a nap behind him. Ruggie stretched his arms above his head, sighing when there was a satisfying pop in his back. Suddenly, the door to the room slammed open. Ruggie yelped and Leona woke with an undignified snort. 

“Gah, what now?” Leona mumbled. 

“Ruggie!” (Y/N) said, standing in the doorway. She was panting as if she had just run across campus (she had). 

“Uh, what? Yeah? Whatever it was, I didn’t take it!” 

Unperturbed, (Y/N) marched over to him, taking both his hands in hers. “You did take something.” Ruggie frantically tried to remember if he had stolen anything from Ramshackle recently. He tried not to, knowing (Y/N) was pretty much as broke as he was. It didn’t seem fair. And maybe he liked her a little too much to swipe something. “You stole my heart!” (Y/N) continued dramatically. “Will you go out with me?” 

Behind them, Leona coughed to unconvincingly cover up a laugh. 

Ruggie’s ears flattened to his head in shock. He reached back and batted at his tail as if that would get it to stop wagging. “I - what? Are you sure? Me? What?” 

“Of course! You’re resourceful, you work hard, you’re clever, and you care a lot about your family back home. I really admire all that about you and more! Not to mention you’re super cute. So, will you go out with me?” 

“Oh, just say yes already, Ruggie,” Leona said, settling down to continue his nap. “At least then I won’t have to hear you being such a sap all the time.” 

Ruggie let out his signature laugh. He tightened his grip on (Y/N)’s hands. “Well, sure then, why not? As long as you’re paying, right?” 

Jack: 

Jack and Vil were out on their daily morning run. The sun was just beginning to rise over the horizon, casting the Night Raven College campus in a warm golden light. At their halfway point, they took a break, Vil stretching in his cooldown. 

“You sure you don’t want to keep going with me?” Jack asked. 

“No,” Vil said. “I’d rather stay slim than bulk up like you. I have my status to maintain. And besides, it looks like I would be interrupting something rather important.” He smiled knowingly and pointed with his chin a little ways down the sidewalk. 

Jack turned. He felt his tail start to wag on its own when he saw (Y/N) standing by one of the Great Seven statues, drawing circles in the ground with her foot. She looked up, breaking out in a warm smile when she saw him. Vil chuckled under his breath and waved as he headed back to Pomfiore. 

Jack clenched his jaw, willing his tail to stay still as he approached her. “Good morning. You’re not usually up this early, right? Is everything okay?” 

(Y/N) jutted her arms out completely straight, offering up the flowering Chin cactus in her hands. “Jack!” She said. “I really like you. I love how brave you are. I love how you’re dedicated to the people you care about. I love how you can be sweet and kind even when you try to act tough all the time. Would you go out with me?” 

“Yes!” Jack replied, almost before the words had even left (Y/N)’s mouth. He put his hands over hers, cradling the cactus. “I mean, yes, I would like to go out with you. Very much.” 

Azul: 

Azul jumped as (Y/N) slammed her hands on his desk in the VIP room of the Monstro Lounge. He quickly gathered his composer, pushing his glasses back up his nose. “Well, Prefect, to what do I owe the pleasure?” 

“I have a deal for you,” She said confidently. 

“Oh? I’d love to hear it.” 

Smiling, she whipped out a sheet of paper and slapped it on top of the other documents Azul had spread over his desk. On the top of the page in an elegant script were the words ‘Contract of First Date.’ Azul felt a lump form in his throat as his heart sped up. He quickly scanned over the rest of the ‘contract,’ outlining the proposed date. 

“Terms of the deal,” (Y/N) continued. “You, me, romantic night out. I know a guy in Craneport who said we could use one of their rowboats and I found this really cool pond with all these willow trees and fireflies. Plus I have this cute picnic basket all set up. Jamil has been teaching me how to cook, you know? Can’t say it’ll be as good as his, if we’re being honest about the terms of agreement. And the contract leaves an opening for future dates depending on the success of this one! Of course, success is not really a super definable term but you get what I mean. So, do we have a deal?” 

Azul covered his face with one hand, trying desperately to ignore how red his face must be at this point. He couldn’t seem to meet her enthusiastic and twinkling eyes. 

“I, uh,” (Y/N) continued, shyer this time as Azul scanned over the contract. “I really like you, Azul. A lot. So, will you go out with me?” 

He looked back down at the contract where her name was written in elegant script at the bottom with space for his next to it. He cleared his throat, bringing back his practiced (definitely not shady) businessman smile. With a sweep of his pen, he said, “It’s a deal.” 

Jade: 

(Y/N) marched across the cafeteria, determination in her eyes. She stopped in front of a table with Jade, Floyd, and Azul. “Hi!” She said, maybe a little too loudly with nerves. Jade and Azul looked up from their conversation, Floyd pausing his efforts in making a castle out of mashed potatoes. “Jade, I really like you. Do you want to go out with me?” 

“Oh?” Jade said, a brief moment of genuine surprise crossing his face before he schooled his features back into pleasant neutrality. “Well, what a pleasant surprise.” 

Floyd snorted and elbowed his brother. “Shrimpy’s got a crush,” He said in a sing-song voice. 

“I must admit,” Jade said, pouting with one hand on his cheek. “I always did imagine a more theatrical confession. Nonetheless, I happily acc-” 

“I can do that!” (Y/N) interrupted. Holding on to Floyd’s shoulder for balance, she climbed on top of the table. She clapped her hands loudly, shouting, “Attention! Attention, please, everyone! I have an announcement!” She cleared her throat as the room fell silent. “I would like to declare my unequivocal, utter devotion and love for Jade Leech.” She heard a choking sound below her but continued on. “I am hopelessly in love, helplessly enraptured, and absolutely head over heels. And it is my deepest hope that he could return my affections. Thank you.” With that, she hopped down, beaming. There was a smattering of applause and laughter from around the room. Epel whooped from back at the first year table. 

Jade’s hands covered his blushing face, fierce sharp eyes peeking out between his fingers. His mouth was split in a wide smile, sharp teeth glinting in a mixture of bashfulness, excitement, and desire. 

“Congratulations, (Y/N),” Azul said. “I can barely remember that last time Jade was actually flustered.” 

“Aww, look at him, he’s speechless!” Floyd teased. 

(Y/N) winced. “Sorry, was that too far?” 

Jade shot out with lightning speed, crushing her in his tight eel grip. “I should let you know,” He whispered to her. “I expect this level of dedication for the entirety of our relationship.” 

Floyd: 

Floyd darted through the stacks of the library. He could have sworn he saw Goldfish in here earlier, and he was in the mood to mess with the easily angered boy. And, while he didn’t find Riddle, he did pause as he saw (Y/N) between the books. He paused, pushing a few books aside to rest his chin on the shelf, an easy smile crossing his face as he spied on her. 

She was hunched over one of the study tables, a large book propped up and open in front of her. She was diligently working on something in her hands, tongue poking out between her lips (lips that Floyd found himself thinking about more often than he would admit), looking back up at the book in front of her every so often. 

Dropping down low, Floyd carefully made his way behind her, silent on his feet. Rising up to his full height behind her, unsuspecting, he jolted forward, wrapping her in a backward hug and pulling her back so the chair careened back on two legs. 

“Shrimpy!” He said, taking delight in her startled squeal. “Whatcha doin’?” 

“God, Floyd,” (Y/N) said, putting a hand to her chest to calm her raging heart. Her eyes suddenly went wide and she lunged forward to cover what she was working on with her arms. “Ah! Don’t look, don’t look! It’s not done!” 

Floyd grinned again. “Aww, it’s not nice to keep secrets.” His hands shot out, pulling out the thing she was hiding. (Y/N) covered her face as Floyd inspected the object. It was a thick piece of twine, various polished shells, sea glass, and dried shiny scales strung throughout. Although it wasn’t exactly neat, the way it caught the sunlight cast tiny rainbows and simmers around the library. Floyd peered at the open book. It was a cultural history of merpeople in the Coral Sea. The opened chapter described mer courting rituals and marriage traditions. Floyd started cackling as (Y/N) buried her face further in her hands.  

“How old is this thing?” Floyd asked, poking at the book. “I don’t even think my grandparents made courting charms.” 

“Shut up,” (Y/N) mumbled. “I was trying to… Forget it.” 

Floyd slipped the haphazard necklace over his neck, prying her hands away to hold them tightly in his. “I accept!” He said brightly. “This was for me, right? It better be, Shrimpy.” 

She smiled and flicked his forehead. “Possibly against my better judgment, I wouldn’t want to be with anyone else, Floyd.” 

Kalim: 

Kalim knew he should probably be studying, but every time he opened a text book or looked at the notes Jamil had oh-so-carefully marked and tabbed for him, he felt his eyes start to droop and mind get fuzzy. A good after lunch walk was just what he needed, and he definitely wasn’t just saying that to put off work. 

He stopped when he realized he had wandered outside Ramshackle dorm. Was that on purpose? Did he subconsciously come here, with the hope he might see (Y/N)? Kalim walked up to the front door, knocking before opening the door and calling inside. 

“Hello! It’s Kalim! Can I come in?” 

There was a squawk of surprise from the front sitting room. (Y/N) poked her head around the corner, flustered. 

“Hi. Sure, come on in. Uh, sorry, I’m kind of in the middle of something.” 

“Can I help?” Kalim asked, walking over to her. Peering into the sitting room, Kalim’s face lit up. Every available surface, and a few unavailable surfaces, were covered in colored and patterned paper. There were stacks and crowds of tiny paper birds littered between everything. 

“I don’t know if it counts if more people make them.” 

Kalim sat on one of the plush chairs, picking up a flowery piece of paper. “If what will count?” 

“It’s an old superstition from my world. If you can fold 1000 paper cranes, your wish will come true. Or something like that.” 

“Ooh, origami! I’ve made decorations using that before! I’m not super good at it, but I’ll help if you want.” 

(Y/N) smiled and sat next to him and Kalim felt his heart flip. “Yeah, I’d like the company.” 

They lost track of time folding cranes, the sun beginning to set high above the dilapidated house. They talked the whole time, jumping from topic to topic, joke to joke, without any real sense of flow. It was warm, there in the small room, not only due to the crackling fireplace. 

“So,” Kalim asked eventually. “What wish were you wanting to make? If this dosen’t work out, I can help you with it!” 

(Y/N) suddenly went bashful, turning away to pay extra attention to the folds of her bird. “I…” She muttered. She took a deep breath, turning to fully face Kalim. “I was going to ask you out. You have all these elaborate decorations and parties all the time. I was going to string all of these together and hang them in your room then ask you out. But, now that you’re here… Kalim, would you go out with me?” 

Kalim dropped the paper crane, flinging himself across the couch to wrap her in a tight hug. “Yes! Yes, yes yes! Oh, I would love to! Huh, I guess that means I need to cancel that order of doves now. That’s how I was going to ask you out next week. Hey, we both thought of birds! That must mean we definitely belong together, right?” 

Jamil: 

“Be right back,” (Y/N) said, standing from the first year cafeteria table. She walked across the cafeteria until she stopped in front of Kalim and Jamil. 

Jamil was shoving a napkin at Kalim. “Careful, you’re going to get sauce all over your shirt.” 

“It’s fine, I’ll be careful! And besides, it’s a pretty color, right? Oh, hey, (Y/N)!” 

“Hi,” She said, looking solely at Jamil. “Jamil, I really like you. Would you want to go out with me?” 

Kalim gasped, hands to his cheeks as he looked excitedly from Jamil to (Y/N). Jamil sucked in a sharp breath, clenching his hands. “I…” He started. “I’m sorry, (Y/N). I can’t.” 

“Oh.” Jamil looked down, but not before he caught the hurt confusion on (Y/N) face. “That’s okay. Thanks for hearing me out. Bye, guys.” She walked back to her table. 

Jamil only looked up again when Kalim slapped his arm. “Jamil! That was your chance!” 

Jamil scowled. “There is no chance. I said no, she accepted it. Drop it.” 

“But you told me you liked her!” 

“I said no such thing.” 

Kalim waved his hand dismissively. “I read between the lines.” 

“There were no lines!” 

“Jamil.” He looked up at Kalim. It wasn’t often the other boy used such a serious voice, or had such a set expression on his face. “You can’t keep doing this. You can’t keep yourself from being happy because you feel like you don’t deserve it.” 

Jamil flinched back, standing suddenly. A million retorts zipped through this mind at once, all of them falling flat and dying on his tongue. Before he could say something he would regret, heart thundering in his ears, he fled the cafeteria, ignoring the stabbing looks from the first year table as (Y/N)’s friends gave her sympathetic pats on the back. 

Jamil couldn’t sleep. He tossed and turned in his bed, listening to the soft, even breathing of his roommate. Huffing in annoyance, he threw off the covers and left his room. He thought he would just take a walk, just get some fresh air. Without paying attention, Jamil’s feet took him out of Scarabia, across campus, and, before he knew it, in front of Ramshackle dorm. His fist hovered in front of the door, internally debating whether or not he should knock. He startled when he heard talking behind him, spotting (Y/N) and Malleus making their way up the pathway. 

(Y/N) stopped when she saw him. “Oh. Hi, Jamil.” 

“Hi,” Jamil said, limply lifting a hand in greeting. 

Malleus looked down at Jamil, glaring. “Viper.” It sounded more like an insult than his name. 

“Did you need something?” (Y/N) asked. “It’s kind of late. Is everything okay?” 

“I-” Jamil started. “I need to talk to you.” 

Malleus stepped in front of (Y/N), but stopped when (Y/N) put a hand on his arm. They had a quick and quiet conversation, Malleus nodded and walked away. (Y/N) came up to the front door, opening it for him. 

“I’ll make some tea,” She said as they stepped into the entryway. 

“Wait-” Jamil said, catching her hand. Everything tumbled out of him all at once. “I wanted to go out with you. I like you, so much so that it scares me sometimes. That’s why I said no earlier. I just think - I thought you would - should - do better than me, after everything that’s happened. But I -” He paused, only realizing now how out of breath he was. (Y/N) looked up at him and he felt breathless all over again. “I want to do better. I want to be better, for you if not for anything else. I know I probably don’t deserve it but, (Y/N), will you go out with me?” 

(Y/N) laughed, wiping away tears at the corners of her eyes with the heel of her hand. “Yes, I’d like that a lot.” 

Vil: 

Something was wrong, Vil could feel it. After all the chaos of his time at Night Raven College, he had almost developed a sixth sense for this type of thing. 

Vil narrowed his eyes, sweeping them over the Pomfiore sitting room. A group of students were sitting around one of the tables, studying. A few others were in front of the fireplace. A couple others were performing some viral dance for a Magicam reel. Nothing seemed amiss here. 

Vil walked down the hall of the dorm, heels clicking against the marble floor. With a missed step, Vil realized he hadn’t seen Epel or Rook in quite some time. That was… concerning. He quickened his walk. 

Vil almost gave himself whiplash as he passed by the ballroom. The door was cracked open ever so slightly so he could peer through. He felt slightly ridiculous, eavesdropping as if he wasn’t the caretaker for the dorm and all those in it. But his thoughts faltered as he observed the scene inside. He found Epel and Rook, as well as several other Pomfiore students, constructing elaborate sets out of painted cardboard and repurposed decorations from the dorm. Was that…? Something about this all seemed eerily familiar. 

“Wait, wait! You’re early!” (Y/N) said. She appeared in front of him, waving her hands to try and block his view. She grabbed his hand, tugging him out of the room. “Don’t look!” She pushed him back into the hall, disappearing back into the ballroom. A second later, she emerged with a chair, setting it down and waving to it. “Just another few minutes.” The door clicked closed behind her before Vil could say anything. He thought about barging in, demanding an explanation. But his curiosity got the better of him. And besides, he always loved to see what (Y/N) got up to. Huffing in amusement, he sat down, crossing his legs at the ankles. 

A while later, Epel, Rook, and the other students fled the ballroom, giving Vil knowing looks as they passed. With skepticism, Vil stood up and made his way inside. Standing in the doorway, he was suddenly hit with a wave of nostalgia. Taking a better look, he recognized the replica set. It was from one of his first ever movies, a children’s adventure called The Heist of the Everlasting Rose. This particular scene was set in a museum where the Everlasting Rose was kept. It had been a supporting role, where, ironically, he had played a child actor in part of a crew to steal the titular Rose to pay for the main character’s sister’s surgery, or some other such justifiable nonsense like that. It was his first big screen production, although it was a relatively low-budget and minor movie. He remembered after the film had come out he and his father would pour over reviews praising his performance. At that moment, he felt like he was on top of the world. 

Vil was brought out of his reminiscing by (Y/N)’s voice. “Hello, sir!” She said. She had put on a tour guide’s jacket, once again modeled after the one in the film. “Welcome to the museum! We have our prized exhibit right this way.” Vil smirked, humoring her, if nothing else than to see where this was all going. Linking their arms, (Y/N) brought him through the makeshift museum. “Legend has it that this rose was given by a cursed prince to his beloved, who saved him from the brink of death with its magical powers. Since then, it has been a symbol of pure and everlasting love.” She carefully lifted the cloche from the silk flower, tiny fairy lights arranged around the base. She held it out to him, one hand dramatically pressed to her chest. “And now, I’d like to give it to you, Vil, to profess my everlasting love. Would you go out with me?” 

Vil couldn’t help it, it was all too much. The extravagant set, (Y/N) memorizing specific passages from such an old and now obscure film, the entire production. He burst out laughing, pressing the back of his hand against his mouth, eyes closed. “Well,” He said, catching his breath. “After such a wonderful effort, how could I possibly say no? Yes, my dearest (Y/N), I would love nothing more than to be with you.” 

Rook: 

“(Y/N), you’re gonna shoot your eye out.” 

“No, it’ll be fine. You have to take risks for the sake of love.” 

“Oh, Seven, we don’t need two of you.” 

Rook’s ears picked up, hearing Epel and (Y/N) talking in the back gardens of the Pomefiore dorm. Smiling, he crept around to (definitely not) spy on them. (Y/N) was struggling with a large bow, an arrow flopping around as she tried to aim it. Pomfiore had a small target practice area set up in the back of the dorm. (Y/N) was trying, emphasis on trying, to shoot arrows at one of the red and white round targets. After her latest arrow struck the ground in front of the target, Epel sighed and walked to the target, collecting other fallen arrows. He stabbed them into the target in the shape of a heart, a letter with Rook’s name pinned to the bullseye. 

“Don’t say I never did anything for you,” Epel said. 

“Oh? And what favor are you performing, Monsieur Pommette?” Both of them jumped, Rook smiling wider at the surprised squeak (Y/N) made. 

“You’re on your own, (Y/N)!” Epel said before rushing off. 

(Y/N) huffed. “Traitor,” She said under her breath. She turned to Rook. “Hi.” 

“Bonjour, Trickster.” 

“You’re, uh, early. I thought you were going to be at your club for a while longer.” 

Rook waved a hand. “There was an unexpected explosion and we had to evacuate. But I am much more interested in what you’re up to here.” 

“Ah, well…” She trailed off, limply pointing to the letter stabbed in the target. She covered her face with her hands, heat rushing to her cheeks as Rook elegantly plucked the letter up and began reading. 

(Y/N) could basically see the hearts forming in his eyes as he finished reading her confession. He dramatically clutched the love letter to his chest, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead. “Oh, mon amour le plus cher! Comme c’est merveilleux de lire vos sentiments les plus caret! Je n’ai jamais vu quelque chose d’aussi beau!” 

“So,” (Y/N) asked nervously. “Is that a yes?” 

“Oui, oui! One thousand times oui!” He cheered as he gathered her in a swinging hug. 

Epel: 

Epel found the first note the day after (Y/N)’s announcement in the cafeteria. Whatever she had wanted to do was apparently pretty important, as she had grabbed Grim and they left immediately. Epel hadn’t seen her the rest of the day, but he would recognize that handwriting on the paper wrapped around his dorm room handle anywhere. 

He looked around to make sure no one was watching before unfolding the paper and reading. ‘Epel, I have something important I need to ask, but before that I have a simple task. Take this first note of the set and go to the place we first met. Love, (Y/N).’ Epel tried not to think too much about that ‘Love’ part. Where did he and (Y/N) first meet? At this point it almost felt like they had known eachother forever. 

Would that be, maybe, the well in the quad? Epel remembered meeting her, Ace, Deuce, and Grim there when he was rehearsing singing, using the well’s acoustics. But, no, they had seen each other somewhere else first. Epel blushed in embarrassment at the memory. He had been crying, frustrated to hell and back with Vil’s lectures right after coming back from winter break. He’d run into them at the Great Seven statues. 

Epel went to the statues, deciding if he didn’t find anything there he would try the well. But, lo and behold, another note was waiting at the base of the Fairest Queen’s statue. He read, ‘Epel, Congrats on finding your second clue! By now you have an idea of what to do. For the next place I want you to go, think of the place we lived side by side before the show. Love, (Y/N).’ 

That one was easy, Ramshackle dorm. As Epel sprinted across campus, both notes held tightly in his fist, he reminisced about spending his days training for the VDC in Ramshackle. Most of the time there seemed like torture, running endless dancing drills, feeling constricted by Vil’s lessons whose purpose he still didn’t fully understand at the time, worrying about the whole dorm falling down around his ears at any moment. But there were plenty of good moments too. (Y/N) making them - Vil approved - breakfast in the morning, her encouragement at each of their rehearsals, how she would slip them treats when Vil and Rook’s backs were turned to help boost their mood. 

Sure enough, Epel found his next note on the Ramshackle front gate. There was another rhyme instructing him to go to another location, also connected to his and (Y/N)’s relationship and past. That lead to another and to another and another, each unlocking a precious memory between the two. Eventually, he unfolded the final note, the sun just starting to set, casting NRC in beautiful golden light. ‘Epel, I hope by now you get to see exactly how much you mean to me. We’ve been through a lot and I’ve enjoyed every and I’ve enjoyed every second, and… Okay, I can’t come up with any more rhymes. Just turn around!’ 

Lowering the paper, Epel turned, opening his arms just in time to catch (Y/N) in a big hug. They spun around each other for a second with the momentum, finally coming to a stop and looking to each other's eyes. 

“Hi,” (Y/N) said. “Did you like my scavenger hunt?” 

“You’re bad at rhyming,” Epel said with a crooked smile. 

She wacked his shoulder. “Hey, I meant what I wrote, though. I really like you, Epel. Would you go out with me?” 

Epel squeaked her tight. “Only if you promise not to write any more poetry.” 

Idia: 

Idia was holding out in his room, huddled under a blanket, his phone clutched tight in his hand. He was watching a live stream from his favorite idol group, Premo. He smiled as the group answered fan questions, talked about their upcoming tour, and demonstrated how to perform some of their most famous dance moves. 

The viewer chat scrolled across the side of the screen. Donations and chat reactions popped up in various animations across the screen. Idia hit the donate button, sending a flurry of roses blooming along the edges of the screen. He smiled as the idols thanked Gloomurai for his support. 

One of the idols leaned over, checking the chat feed. She gasped, flapping a hand at the others and enthusiastically pointing at what she was reading. They all started smiling and giggling, whispering to each other. Idia shuffled closer, as if that would let him read whatever message they had gotten. 

“Hey, everyone!” One of them said. “We’ve got a super special shout-out! This is from (Username) to… Gloomurai!” 

Idia’s heart raced as he sat up in bed, blanket draped over him. (Username), (Username)... Wait, he recognized that. That was your username! He had helped you set up your account to the MMO he played a while ago. He remembered helping you through the intro stages, stumbling over the tutorials. He had laughed at your frustrated frown as you died on the same boss for the third time. 

“Aww,” The second idol said. “This is sweet. It says, ‘Gloomurai, I thought about telling you this in person, but I wasn’t sure when that would actually be. And sometimes big feelings require big gestures. I like you, I really, really like you. I think I have for a long time. I love your smile, I love your hair, I love your brain, I love that you’re such an amazing big brother. Will you go out with me?’ Well, Gloomurai? Tell us your answer! We’re waiting on pins and needles here!” 

“Oh, wait,” The third idol said. “There’s more. It says, ‘PS, check your door.’” 

Idia yelped as he shot up, the blanket falling to a heap on the floor. Heart thundering in his chest and head starting to go fuzzy. He almost felt like he was in a daze as he walked with trepidation to his door. Slowly opening it, Idia saw a basket placed just in front. It was filled with his favorite snacks, small acrylic standees of characters from his favorite games and anime, and studded with bluebells, irises, and blue asters. A large paper heart was pinned to the front with her and his initials drawn in the middle. Hair flaring pink, he quickly brought the basket back into his room before any of his dorm mates would notice. 

He heard commotion from his phone, Premo and the chat all eagerly awaiting his response. He sent in another donation with a simple, “Yes.” The idols cheered and squealed. 

He swiped out of the livestream, opening his messaging app. (Y/N)’s name popped up with a new message, a cheering emoticon with three blue hearts. 

He subconsciously covered his face as he smiled wide, typing back, “You’re so cringe. Can’t wait for the date.” 

Silver: 

(Y/N) sprinted across campus, heading whipping around to try and catch a familiar shimmer of silver white hair. She skidded to a stop when she saw a black Diasamonia coat draped over a low tree branch, a pair of shined boots sticking out behind the trunk. 

(Y/N) rounded the old oak tree. “Silv-! Oh, sorry.” 

Silver was reclining against the tree, hands folded across his stomach, chest rising and falling with deep even breaths, eyes closed and lips slightly parted as he slept. A few songbirds and a pair of squirrels congregated around him, looking up with big eyes at the newcomer. 

(Y/N) shifted her weight from foot to foot before screwing up her courage and sitting down next to Silver. She shuffled down so she laid next to him, still leaving enough room to not cause too much of a scandal if anyone walked by. She settled down, closing her eyes and relaxing, taking in the sounds of the woodland animals around them, the talking of other students in the distance, the wind whispering through the trees. 

A short while later, she heard stirring next to her. (Y/N) blinked awake quickly, propping herself up and leaning back on her hands as Silver woke up beside her. 

“Hi,” She said. “Would  you want to go out with me?” 

Silver blinked the sleep out of his eyes, looking up at her. “I must still be dreaming,” He muttered. “If I am, then…” He reached forward, cupping the back of her head and pulling her down. She gasped as their lips brushed. Silver’s eyes suddenly shot open and he jerked back from her as if burned. “I- uh-” He studded, pale skin turning a ruby red. 

(Y/N) giggled at his embarrassment. “Well, I guess that’s a yes, right?” 

Sebek: 

“Be right back!” (Y/N) said as she suddenly stood from the first year cafeteria table. Before anyone had a chance to say anything, she was off like a shot. 

“Any idea what that was about?” Epel asked. The others shrugged. 

Grim reached over to snag half (Y/N)’s sandwich from her discarded tray. “Probably going to go ask out that boy she keeps talking about,” He said nonchalantly, mouth full. 

Sebek choked, standing fast and slamming his hands on the table so all their plates and cutlery clattered. “What!” 

“Chill, man,” Ace said, waving him down as people across the cafeteria turned to stare. Ace smirked. “Unless you’re particularly invested in (Y/N)’s love life?” 

Sebek blushed and slammed back into his seat. He picked his knife and fork back up and started sawing at his Salisbury steak. “No,” He snapped. “(Y/N) can do whatever she wants. What do I care?” 

“Sure,” Epel said. 

(Y/N) reappeared in the cafeteria a short while later, Malleus in tow. She was talking with him, gesturing with her hands. Malleus had a wide, amused smile, nodding along. 

Sebek stood again, at attention for his prince. “Good afternoon, Lord Malleus!” He said. “To what do we owe the pleasure of your presence?” He scowled at the other first years rolling their eyes at his formality. 

“Hello, Sebek. I’ve come to give my blessing.” 

“Blessing?” 

“Sebek!” (Y/N) said brightly. She took both his hands in hers as he sputtered and blushed. “I really like you. Would you go out with me?” 

For once, Sebek was speechless, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. (Y/N) squeezed his hands tighter as Malleus chuckled next to them. “Well, Sebek? It’s not polite to keep a lady waiting.” 

Life seized back into the knight. He tightened his grasp on (Y/N), pulling her closer. “Yes! Absolutely! I mean, ahem, I accept your offer of courting, since you went so far to get my lord’s blessing, after all.” 

Lilia: 

Lilia wouldn’t call what he was doing skulking, exactly. More like surprise chaperoning, keeping an eye on the youngsters of Night Raven College like a good upperclassman should. And, if he just so happened to pop out and scare the living daylights out of whatever unfortunate student happened to be nearby, well, more fun for him. 

So it wasn’t especially surprising when he heard Silver and (Y/N) talking to each other in the courtyard. As a sly smile stretched across his face, he floated to a hiding place in the shadows of the flying buttresses, resting on his stomach to kick his feet, chin resting in his hands, as he observed the two. 

“You want my permission?” Silver asked, an amused smile on his face. 

“Of course!” (Y/N) replied. “I wouldn’t want to make it weird by dating him while we’re all still students together.” 

Lilia faltered. That was the problem with spying, sometimes you heard things you didn’t want to. So the Prefect was romantically interested in someone, eh? And if they were asking Silver for permission, it must be someone close to him. Sebek, maybe? Or, oh dear, Malleus? Lilia knew for a fact that both of the boys thought of (Y/N) as a close and dear friend and nothing more. His heart panged in sympathy at the idea of rejection. And, if he was being honest with himself, it panged with something else as well. 

“You don’t think he’s a little old for you?” Silver asked teasingly. 

“Maybe I like a silver fox,” (Y/N) teased right back. 

Silver laughed. “I don’t think I ever want to hear my father described as a silver fox ever again.” 

Lilia lost his concentration, falling with a yelp against one of the chandeliers hanging in the hallway. 

“Lilia?” (Y/N) asked with a gasp. 

Lilia smiled, trying to regain poise as he floated down to them. “Looks like I’m not as slick as I used to be. Now, what were you two discussing just now?” 

(Y/N) look startled. Silver gave her shoulder a reassuring pat and left with a wave. Just the two of them now, (Y/N) took a deep breath, building up her courage. 

“Lilia!” She said, probably a little too loudly with nerves. “I really like you! Would you go out with me?” 

Lilia chuckled, leaning close to enjoy the shy and flustered look on her face. “Well, if you have my son’s blessing, how am I to refuse? Besides, I think I rather like being called a, what was it you said? A silver fox?” 

Malleus: 

Malleus looked up from his book, looking around his room for the source of the noise that disturbed his studying. There, another sharp ‘ping’ from across the room. He looked to the window, noticing a small pebble hitting the glass. He walked over and opened the window, dodging just in time to miss another pebble. 

“Oops! Sorry, Horton!” He looked down, a smile automatically crossing his face at (Y/N)’s voice. But his expression quickly changed to puzzlement as he looked down at her. (Y/N) was standing in the courtyard of the Diasomonia dorm, inside a giant heart made of dozens of tiny tea candles. 

In a swirl of green light, Malleus appeared next to her on the ground floor. She jumped a little bit at his sudden appearance, but quickly recovered herself and beamed up at him. He felt his heart flip in that pleasant way it always did when he was near her. 

“What’s all this?” 

She cleared her throat dramatically, dropping to one knee. “Dearest Horton, you have bewitched me body and soul. I would like to officially court you. Would you do me the absolute pleasure of accompanying me on a date this weekend?” 

Malleus blinked down at her for a moment, basking in the admiration and adoration filling her eyes. He laughed, reaching down to take her hand and pull her to standing. “My, how formal,” He said. 

She smiled, shrugging. “I wanted it to be memorable. Couldn’t manage the fireworks, though. Sorry.” 

“I can rectify that.” With an elegant sweep of his hand, sparks erupted from Malleus’s fingertips, shooting into the dark sky around the dorm to explode in fantastic colors. Students from in the dorm leaned out windows to admire the impromptu show. 

Malleus drew (Y/N) closer to him, admiring the multicolor flashes playing across her face. “I would adore being anywhere with you.”

[dearaceofhearts]

you walk out after an argument

characters: husk, alastor, angel dust, vox, lucifer word count: 2.9k genre: angst to fluff summary: after an argument with them, you walk out and don't come back for a few days. how do they react? author's note: hello yes this is my first time actually posting something. erm, i think i wrote too much (sorry) but hey we roll with it!! also dude i accidentally posted this before it was ready twice and i had a heart attack oh my god. anyways i don't think vox's is really fluff (oops) but everyone else's is

♡ husk

when you slam the door shut on your way out, husk lets out a low grumble, setting down the glass he was cleaning onto the bar counter with a quiet sigh. it was one of the first arguments you'd had in a long time. although he wasn't usually one to get riled up so easily, the two of you knew each other well enough to know just what buttons to push to get under the other's skin. that, alongside him already having a bad day, had been a recipe for disaster.

in the few days that pass by, it's hard to tell just how affected he is by your absence since he does a pretty good job of keeping a cool facade. to anyone looking, he wouldn't appear any different than usual, just idly cleaning bottles as he always does.

but it's the small things that give away just how much husk cares and worries for you, like how his eyes flicker towards the door whenever someone comes in, his ears perking up slightly. he hates the twinge of disappointment that follows when it's not you, a slight scowl curling at his lips as he takes a swig of alcohol from one of the many bottles on the shelves of the bar. he misses talking to you. you're his favourite drinking buddy, after all.

his gaze always seems to wander back to the front door of the hotel, lingering for just a little too long before he eventually turns back to the bar, expression settling back into its usual grouchiness. but underneath that lies a hint of worry that gnaws at him in the back of his mind, even though he knows you're more than capable of handling yourself. at the end of the day, you can never be too careful in hell.

husk won't force you to come back, but he just wants to know that you're safe and sound. he trusts that you'll come back when you're ready so that the two of you can talk it over and hopefully resolve things. he doesn't want to leave it like this, and he's sure you don't either. you mean a lot more to him than he'd like to admit.

when you decide to finally return to the hotel, he pauses upon catching sight of you stepping through the doorway. he can't help the small wave of relief that washes over him, though you wouldn't be able to tell by the way he smoothly resumes restocking the bar. when you approach the counter, he looks up, giving you a short nod. "hey." he greets you, tone surprisingly softer than you're used to, "you're back."

husk's not really the type to beat around the bush, so he'd likely address the argument pretty quickly. he's also not particularly one for verbal apologies, so he'd probably be more willing to show it through his actions. you see it in the way he lets you cling to him a little longer than he normally does, leaning into him as he wordlessly holds you, his tail loosely curling around your leg. if you listen closely, you can hear some faint purring, too. it makes you smile slightly.

"alright, 'nuff of this sappy stuff." husk grumbles after a few more moments, patting your back gently before pulling back. "i'd kill for a drink right now. care to join me?" he raises a brow, a familiar glint in his eyes as he slides back behind the counter, already moving to make what he knows is your favourite drink.

you grin as you meet his eyes, expression softening. "of course. i'd love nothing more."

♡ alastor

"you're not listening, al." you murmur, exhaling quietly. this makes him pause for a moment, head tilted. your voice sounds different to what he's used to — you're not even angry, no — you just sound... tired. the argument had been going on for a while, and neither of you were getting through to the other.

when you move to leave, he makes no move to stop you, simply watching you with an intent gaze. his voice rings out clear as day in the empty silence. "where do you think you're going, my dear?"

he falters ever so slightly when you turn back to face him with a sturdy, stern gaze, responding with a flatly spoken "out", leaving no room for anything more to be said before closing the door behind you with a quiet click.

alastor won't chase after you, because he expects that you'll come back to him of your own accord. to him, it's basically guaranteed how this'll play out. he's used to demons falling right into his hands without having to exert much effort on his end, and believes that this would be no different.

so when a few days pass by with you not approaching him at all, he finds himself slightly irritated and mildly perplexed, eyes narrowed as his clawed finger taps against his cane with idle impatience. why haven't you sought him out yet?

he's seen you around the hotel, but you've never once acknowledged his presence even if the two of you were in the same room, breezing past him while he's left staring, watching you converse with everyone except him. his eye twitches in irritation, the perpetual smile on his lips strained.

...eventually, after playing a long waiting game to no avail, he decides that perhaps rosie would be able to offer some helpful advice on how to approach this situation, since he's not used to actually handling delicate emotional matters without the— well, the manipulation and deal-making.

one of the main issues is his massive ego. it's that unfaltering pride that gets in the way of him apologising. he may be the radio demon, but all that power can't help him here. and he'd never openly admit to such, but he truly is at somewhat of a loss here. he's already tried most things that he's sure would usually make you forgive him, though for a reason unbeknownst to him, it's not working this time.

"oh alastor," rosie shakes her head with a small huff, "a lady's heart is to be treated with care." she lends some further words of wisdom and encouragement that he listens to with great attentiveness, since he does (begrudgingly) enjoy your company, and it would be a shame if it was lost over such a, in his eyes, trivial matter.

upon his return to the hotel, he manages to get you to sit down with him (after much polite pestering and insistence) to have a chat over some tea. when all is said and done, the two of you sit in a comfortable silence. you sip your tea, watching the blazing fires of hell from the balcony.

"refill?" alastor offers, glancing at you briefly through a sip of his own tea.

"much appreciated." you hum, legs crossed as you throw him a small, slack smile.

♡ angel dust

his frustration slowly fizzles out as the door closes behind you, and the guilt slowly starts to creep in. he knows he shouldn't have said what he did, and he wants nothing more than to apologise and make it up to you — but he understands that it's probably better to give you some time to cool off before trying to approach you again.

despite the argument and the harsh words exchanged between you, the fact that he cares for you with his whole heart will never change, and he hopes you know that too.

while you're away, angel always finds his thoughts drifting to you, wondering how you're doing. are you eating okay? are you drinking enough? sleeping enough? with a shake of his head and a small sigh, he tries his best to return his focus back to the task at hand, whatever it may be.

he knows you can take care of yourself perfectly fine, but he just... misses you. the guilt eats away at him when he's reminded of the look on your face when you left, the brief glimmer of hurt in your eyes before you masked it with anger and tore your gaze away.

one particular night, angel heads over to your room in the hotel out of habit, not really thinking about it when he raises a fist to knock on the door. he had been hoping to spend some time with you, since today had been a particularly rough day for him. he's also been craving for one of your sleepover nights for a while, those nights where you two would stay up to talk about anything and everything until dawn rises. those times were comforting for him — a rare moment of respite in his life.

but then he stops abruptly, remembering that you're not there. he lets his hand fall back to his side, expression quietly downcast. he stands alone in the silent, empty hallway. has it always been this cold?

after a few days, he's just about damn ready to go looking for you, making his way down the stairs as he prepares to head out. he's so focused that he almost misses the sight of you seemingly casually sitting at the bar, nursing a drink in your hands whilst exchanging low murmurs with husk.

he freezes momentarily, taking a deep breath. while he mentally debates with himself whether to approach you or not, husk notices him hesitating on the staircase. he catches angel's gaze, giving him a subtle nod. that's all the affirmation angel needs.

he slides on his usual relaxed demeanour, though it's a little weaker than normal, as he approaches you. he's admittedly a little nervous, but he's determined to work things out with you. he puts a gentle hand on your shoulder to catch your attention. "hey, darlin'. can i talk to you for a minute?"

the two of you head back to your room, where heartfelt apologies are exchanged and a long overdue conversation takes place. at some point during the talk, his hand had found its way on top of yours, thumb brushing over your skin gently. at the end of it all, he gives you a small, content smile. "...baby, you have no idea just how much i adore you." he whispers into the quiet, running his fingers through your hair comfortingly as your head rests on his shoulder.

it was an unspoken agreement that tonight was going to be a sleepover night. prepare for lots of cuddling and gentle, soft kisses.

♡ vox

he's the type to go "ha, see if i care!" when you leave, but he'll still check on you occasionally through the various cameras and electronics around the city — he swears it's just because he's making sure the new limited edition voxtek product he had given to you isn't damaged.

(...it's totally because he's looking out for you, by the way. even if it's only a little. you are his darling, after all. and uh, you'll never know what happened to that guy who tried to hit on you that one time).

(vox made sure not even a trace of that bastard remained).

his obnoxious pride makes him reluctant to reach out first. that, and he's a petty little shit. so everyone around him, whether that be the other vees or his employees, is stuck dealing with his foul mood. he's become even more irritable and susceptible to lashing out than usual since you left.

he'd rather die than admit it, but you were a calming presence in his life that he hadn't realised he needed until you were gone. he hates just how much power you have over him, though you may or may not realise it. he's supposed to be the one in charge. when did you manage to sneak into his heart? his mind is occupied with thoughts of you.

and it only frustrates him more, because you're not here.

all his employees are left on edge, even more so when he takes his anger out on some poor soul who had gotten the numbers wrong on the report they handed in. "clean this mess up." vox snaps, glowering as he fixes the cuffs of his sleeves. the demon at the door hurriedly moves to do as he says, not wanting to risk meeting the same fate.

"what? what are you looking at?" he turns, eyes narrowing at the rest of the employees who flinch, hastily turning their eyes back to the screens in front of them. "get back to work." he mutters sharply, an unspoken threat in his words.

his volatile temperament goes on for a while, until velvette decides she's finally had enough and sends you a (not so) polite text to resolve your little lover's spat before she takes matters into her own hands.

meanwhile, vox is in his office. nothing seems to be going his way, and he's just about to blow another fuse when you nonchalantly throw open the doors, inviting yourself in. he freezes, staring at you for a few moments. you raise a brow. "...so. i heard you were throwing another hissy fit."

vox scowls at that, grumbling under his breath. "oh yeah? and what'd you come back for, you prissy little princess?" he sneers, clawed fingers digging into the desk with a quiet screech. "couldn't go without me for long, huh?"

"ha. you wish that was the case." you scoff, rolling your eyes with a half-amused, irked smile curling at your lips. things escalate into another argument pretty quickly, with the two of you at each other's throats. he towers over you, eyes narrowing as his grin widens in mild irritation.

it's a back and forth for quite some time, until you get sick of it and grab him by the collar of his shirt, yanking him closer until you're glaring at one another face to face. "what the fuck do you think you're—" he starts, but he's quickly cut off when your lips crash into his. vox is stunned for a few moments but soon snaps out of it, swiftly returning your kiss with equal, if not more, ferocity and intensity.

"finally got you to shut up." you murmur, grinning as you part to catch your breath and release his shirt from your grasp. before you can pull back completely, however, his hand reaches up to rest against the back of your neck, the other firmly on your waist. it takes another long, drawn-out kiss for him to finally let you go — though not really, since he's still holding you close in his arms.

"...that was hot." he whispers breathlessly, staring down at you with a somewhat satisfied glint in his eyes. but you both know that there's more to come.

suffice to say, the two of you sorted things out.

♡ lucifer

he would regret everything almost instantly. lucifer realises just how badly he fucked up when you leave without looking back. he's not even quite sure what happened as he stands alone in the room, blinking as he's left to process everything on his own. his mind is a jumbled mess, and he can't think clearly.

all he can feel is a suffocating rush of fear as he snaps out of his daze and hurries after you, desperate to find you before you're gone. he doesn't want to take his chances. what if you don't come back? what if—

he had said things that he didn't mean, and now the weight of it all feels crushing on his shoulders. he's torn between wanting to reach out to apologise and giving you time to cool down. he doesn't want to be a bother, but also really wants to make things up to you.

most of all, he just wants reassurance that you'll come back to him and that he hasn't messed things up for good. he doesn't want to lose you. you're too precious to him for that, and he's mentally kicking himself for ever making you question your importance to him for even a second.

thankfully, you haven't gone too far so he's able to catch up to you, taking a hold of your wrist firmly. however, when you turn to look at him, he falters, the words dying in his throat. he swallows, softly clearing his throat as he scrambles to say something, anything to stop you from leaving. to reaffirm his love for you.

"...sweetheart, i'm so sorry," he whispers, expression twisted and heart heavy with remorse and sorrow as he brings you close, grip subconsciously tightening because he's afraid to let you go. "i'll do anything, i'll make it up to you, i—" he trails off, burying his face into your shoulder, "just, please... don't leave. i'm sorry."

you really can't stay mad at him for too long after seeing his genuine sincerity. he acknowledges his wrongs, wanting nothing more than to make up for his mistakes and make you feel as appreciated and cared for as you've made him feel over the course of you two knowing each other. you sigh gently, thumb lightly brushing over his cheek. "...alright, silly. let's go home."

his eyes light up at that, and he's reminded of just how grateful he is to have you here by his side as you guys make your way home together. he holds your hand the entire time.

after the two of you make up, you find that he'll leave little gifts and cute trinkets around for you despite your gentle assurances that he doesn't have to. he also gives you lots of forehead kisses. he just wants to make sure you never forget how much he loves you, and that you mean the world to him.

© dearaceofhearts ー all rights reserved. please do not steal, use or modify my works!

[moonstruckme]

Hi luv, can I request something?

I was thinking about a poly!wolfstar x fem!reader where reader is feeling down because of her period but don’t wanna tell the boys bc she’s embarrassed. But she ends up acting all sad and the boys are really worried, thinking they did something wrong, and when they finally find out the truth they try to comfort her? A little angst with fluff ending, lots of cuddles. Only if you feel comfortable writing it, of course!

I love your writing, btw

Thanks for requesting lovely!

cw: period sadness

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 971 words

“She’s moping,” Sirius whispers, arms crossed and dark brows bunched. He’s leaning back against the counter, having followed Remus into the kitchen to ‘help make the popcorn’. Two fingers tap restlessly on his bicep. 

Remus watches the movement, pensive. “She might’ve just had a rough day,” he says back. The sound of popcorn in the microwave works to cover his voice. “I think she’d tell us if we’d done something to upset her.”

He gets where Sirius is coming from. You’ve seemed a tad dimmer than usual, mumbly and perhaps a bit tired. But Sirius is quick to worry, and he has a nose for tension that occasionally sniffs it out when it’s not really there. 

“She might not.” Sirius is doing that thing where he looks and sounds angry when really he’s worried. Remus leans over to kiss his hair. 

“She’s better than us,” he reassures him, taking the popcorn from the microwave and leading the way back into the living room. 

You’re huddled up in one corner of the couch, blanket pulled tight around you and eyes looking to nowhere. You perk up a little when Remus shakes some of the popcorn into a bowl and sets it in your lap. 

“Thanks,” you say. 

“Course. Did you pick a film?” 

“I started to, but…” You shrug, passing the remote to Sirius as he sits down next to you. “You guys can pick, I don’t really care what we watch.” 

Sirius sends Remus a look. See? Remus frowns. He’s still not convinced you’re upset with them, specifically, but your upset in general is hard to deny. 

It’s unsettling to have you glum like this. He and Sirius have always been prone to their moods, but you’re…not, so much. It’s not that you never have a bad day, of course, they try to give you the environment to feel whatever you like. They’ve just not seen you like this before, obviously upset but seemingly with no cause. 

Sirius picks one of your favorite films anyway. The intro credits start, and ordinarily, this would be the part where you lean onto your other side and cozy up to him, but you don’t. You stay curled up in your corner, eyes at half-mast and pretty face impassive. 

The sweet bit of skin between Sirius’ brows is marred by a dent. 

Remus is sitting in the armchair adjacent to your side of the couch. He reaches across the space for your hand. With so overt a request, you give it to him, looking a touch bemused. He holds your gaze, sweeping his thumb over your knuckles. 

“Are you alright?” 

You blink. “Me?” When Remus doesn’t look away, you shrink slightly, shoulders pulling up towards your ears. “I’m fine, yeah. Are you?” 

“Oh, how crafty,” Sirius drawls. “Redirect the question, we’ll never see through that.” 

You smile cautiously. “Way to make me asking my boyfriend how he is seem nefarious.” 

Sirius’ answering grin is sharp, but Remus can see the anxiety beneath it. “You’re not as subtle as you think, babe. Why don’t you tell us what’s got you so twisted up, huh?” 

Just like that, you shut down again. You pull your hand from Remus’, fixing your eyes on the TV. “I’m not twisted up,” you say. 

“Dovey,” Remus says softly. When you look at him, your expression is controlled but your gaze is tentative. “Have we done something to upset you?” 

“What?” A line forms between your brows, a companion for Sirius’. “No, you’ve—you’re perfect.” 

“Well, I like to think so,” Sirius agrees breezily, “but you’re obviously not happy with us. It’d help if you’d just say what it is, so apologies and amends can commence. Unless it’s that I left the toilet paper roll empty again, in which case I can only say that you knew what you were getting into when you moved in.” 

His feeble attempt at levity doesn’t make much of a dent in your creased expression, though you do tilt up one side of your mouth as though to commend him for his effort. 

“I’m not upset with either of you,” you say slowly. Your tone carries a hue of resignation. “I promise, if I was mad I would say.” 

Now it’s Remus’ turn to look at Sirius. See? But Sirius looks even more troubled, as though he can’t fathom what could be wrong in your life if it’s not him. 

“You are upset, though,” Remus says softly. “What’s wrong?” 

You sigh, the sound heavy with that unidentified melancholy, and Sirius seems to feel secure enough now to drop a kiss on your shoulder. “Nothing’s wrong,” you reply, defeated. “I’m just in a mood because of my period, sorry. I don’t mean to be a bother.” 

Remus coos, reaching across the gap again to pet your baby hairs. 

Sirius leans into your side. “You?” he asks, kissing your shoulder again. “Never. Why didn’t you say, lovebug?” 

You shrug. You seem to be slumping deeper into the couch with every affectionate touch, your body relaxing. “It’s a bit embarrassing. I don’t want to be acting all sad just because my hormones are going funny.” 

“You’re not just acting sad if you are actually sad,” Remus points out. “Is your stomach hurting you?” 

“Not really.” You shift your weight so you’re leaning into Sirius, too. He looks about as happy as he can be when someone he loves is hurting, bottom lip pushed out as he rubs your shoulder and smooshes his cheek into the top of your head. “Just sad.” 

“D’you wanna watch something happy, sweetheart?” Sirius asks, voice dripping with a syrupy sweetness. “Or something sad, to cry it out?” 

You shrug again. “Maybe just a little sad? Like The Perks of Being a Wallflower.” 

“That’s only a little sad to you? Shit, baby, you’re tough as nails.”

[lunaritex]

𓏲࣪ ִֶָ ︎ִֶָ LIGHTS, CAMERA AND LOVE 𖤐. — nishimura riki

↺ CONTENT: idol au, both reader and riki are idols, reader is female, brief tooth-rotting fluff.

↺ FROM HYE: this was inspired after watching his artist of the month video heh…

“Hello everyone. I’m (Name) and today, I’m on the set of Studio Choom to film the video for the Artist of the Month,” you introduced yourself, clapping and bowing a little as you sat on the chair provided by the staff. 

“(Name), how does it feel to be chosen as the Artist of the Month?” 

Laughing, you shyly tucked your hair behind your left ear. “Ah, to be honest, I’m not that confident in my dancing abilities. So I was quite shocked when I heard I got selected. But thank you so much for the opportunity provided to me. I will show my best self for everyone and my fans.” 

“Can you tell us what you have prepared for us?”

Humming, you slung your left leg over your right as you rested your hands on your left knee. “I’ve chosen to perform two songs: Rude Boy by Rihanna and Work it by Missy Elliot. I have gone with hip hop and pop, as I always wanted to try dancing to these kinds of songs. And I like challenging myself to new things too.” 

“How would you rate the choreography?” 

You purse your lips, pondering over it before answering. “If you know Pass the Mic by ENHYPEN, take their choreography and multiply it by… three times? It’s quite hard and it took me a while to master it.” 

“Speaking of ENHYPEN, how long have you been dating Nishimura Riki?” 

You gasped, taken aback by the sudden question about your love life. Your face flushed red when you heard the staff laugh at your embarrassment. “We’ve been together for about six months now, and our monthly anniversary is coming tomorrow. Which is also the day the video will drop too. I hope everyone looks forward to it-?” 

You paused when you saw a familiar figure entering the place. You ignored how you were in the middle of an interview, face brightening at the sight of your beloved boyfriend entering. You excitedly waved as Riki got closer. He chuckled, leaning down to press a loving kiss on your forehead as he stood beside you. Due to him being too tall, the camera was not able to capture his face. 

“What are you doing here? I thought you’re still busy with your schedule,” you asked, having to tilt your head up to look at him. 

“We ended early and I decided to surprise you. Although, it looks like you’re in the middle of something,” he sounds sheepish, but the staff merely shrugged his apology off. 

You giggled, leaning against him and faced the camera. “Now that my boyfriend’s here, maybe we should hear some encouraging words from him. Right, Riki?”

“Huh? Why are you suddenly interviewing me?” His eyes widened, not expecting you to change the direction of the interview just like that. You laughed at his reaction, pulling at his hand. 

“Come on, just say a few words!” You begged. 

Sighing, he bent slightly to reveal his face to the camera. “Hello, I’m Nishimura Riki from ENHYPEN. Uh, I don’t have much to say but please show lots of love and support to (Name)’s performance video. It drops tomorrow and I can tell she has put in a lot of effort into making the video. Thanks.” 

“Before we end, could we have the both of you do a dance together?” 

“Aish, I knew there was something else after this,” Riki mischievously wagged his finger at the staff, eliciting a round of amused laughter from them. 

You chuckled, rising to your feet. “Sure, how about we cover Riki’s dance on Studio Choom? The Artist of the Month video and we can do the moment of the video where it's most replayed.” 

“Don’t tell me…” Riki’s voice trailed off, recognition flickering across his face when he saw one of the staff handing both of you sunglasses. 

“Yup.” 

Both of you got into position. Once the music started, the staff were amazed with how in sync you were with one another. Your facial expressions were on point, easily matching the vibes of the song. Thankfully, you did not have to perform the whole choreography and instead, only showcase five minutes of it. When it ended, you were panting and catching your breath. 

“Since when did you learn it?” Riki asked, amazed as he ran a hand through his hair. 

“It was meant to be a surprise, but I guess it’s out of the bag now,” you sheepishly scratched your head, squeaking when he embraced you in a hug, his taller frame hiding you from the camera. The staff took it as a cue to end the recording, wanting to give the couple their much-needed alone time. 

Seeing this, Riki took it as his cue to squish your cheeks with his hands. You made a noise of protest but he ignores it, sniggering at your offended expression. He could no longer hold back, leaning down to give you a searing kiss on your lips. Before you could react, he had pulled away. A satisfied smirk appeared on his face at the sight of your dazed look. 

“You’re so cute,” he teased. 

“Riki!”

Needless to say, the video did well and most of the comment sections were filled with people squealing over your relationship. 

‘(Name) and Riki are so cute together! And the way they are in sync with one another is so cool! Truly the power duo we need.’

‘Forget Riki, I want (Name) instead.’

‘The part where they threw their sunglasses at the same time… chefs kiss.’ 

[y3sterdaysproblem]

smoke and mirrors - chris sturniolo

chapter four

summary: your best friend Matt backs out of plans you had made together, so you replace him with his brother. the only problem is the two of you can’t stand each other.

{enemies to lovers, fake dating}

includes : explicit language, fluff, smut(penetration, oral, fingering, etc.), angst if you squint, lots of bickering, slow burn

wc: 5.5k

It was the first day of high school and you were in a brand new city with absolutely no friends, your heart racing as you walked through the halls to find your first class, finally stepping into the room and finding your way to an empty desk at the back of the room, sitting next to a boy that was leaned back in his chair, looking down at his fingers that picked at his own skin.

He looks up at you as you sit down and a warm, friendly smile blooms on his face. “Hi,” he says quietly and you smile back at him, bringing up your hand to wave shyly. “Hi,” you respond.

“Nervous?” He asks, and all you do is nod. “Me too, but it’ll be okay. Wanna be friends?” You nod again, this time a little bit more enthusiastically. “Great! I’m Matt.”

You grin and make a mental note of the boy across from you, repeating his name in your head, introducing yourself to him as well.

The class starts and you both become quiet, bringing your attention to the teacher at the front of the room.

As the class ends, Matt stands up and hovers over you, backpack slung over one shoulder. “Meet me at lunch?” He asks.

You look up at him, feeling excited at the fact that you’ve already made a friend and he seemed genuinely interested in being friends back. “Okay,” you agree, and he shoots you a smile before leaving.

Your next class was across the school, and you might have stayed back a little too long in your last one, preferring to be the last one out, but now you found yourself walking a little quicker than usual through the halls.

You glanced down at your schedule for a moment to refresh your memory on where you had to go, and that was when your body slammed into another teenager wandering the halls.

“I’m so sorry!” You tell him, catching your balance and reaching out to make sure you’re okay. “I was looking down and didn’t see where I was going and I have no idea where I am and-“

“It’s okay!” You hear him say and you look up to meet his eyes, and you were instantly confused at the boy in front of you. He looked exactly like your new friend, but he was wearing a completely different outfit.

“Matt?” You question, eyebrows furrowing together.

The boy just laughs and shakes his head. “Wrong one. I’m Nick. Matt and I are identical.” He tells you, and you can’t help but laugh with him.

“Oh! That… makes sense. I’m really sorry for running into you,” you tell him, cheeks blooming a bright shade of red.

Nick just shrugs it off and tells you it’s no big deal, and you thank him, apologizing once more before continuing on to your next class.

Finally, as that class ended, it was time for lunch, and as you made it to the cafeteria, you looked around for Matt, finding him sitting next to the boy you now knew as Nick, and someone else’s back was facing you. You walked over towards them and sat next to the mystery boy, waving at Matt as you did so.

“Hi!” You say, and Matt and Nick wave back at you. You turn to introduce yourself to whoever you’re sat next to, and you’re beyond shocked when you’re met with the same face you’ve already met twice that day. “Another one?!” You exclaim, feeling like you’re in the matrix as you look between all three boys.

Matt and Nick laugh at you, while the third one just looks at you like you’re crazy, and that makes you mutter an apology under your breath, turning your attention to your friends across the table. “Am I dreaming right now?”

Matt shakes his head, still giggling slightly. “We’re triplets. Kinda look the same,” he tells you and you take another glance between the three of them.

“Wow that’s really cool, I’ve never met triplets before,” you tell them. You turn your head towards the new boy again and introduce yourself to him as well.

He meets your eyes and scans your face for a moment before opening his mouth to speak. “Chris,” he says simply, then goes back to eating his food.

As you eat your lunch and chat with the boys for the first time, you’re hoping deep down that you guys stay friends for a long time.

-

You hadn’t really spoken to Chris since the incident last night, making for an awkward dinner with him sat across from you, but with the day quickly passing by and the potential for dressing nice and having access to free food, you decide it’s probably time to go and see if the two of you were actually going to spend the night together.

Chris was sat on his big white couch, slouched in his seat as he scrolled mindlessly through his phone, feet perched up on the coffee table in front of him, paying the world around him no mind as he watched a silly little video of a horse playing piano with his lips when you came down the stairs, emerging from Nick’s room after a few hours of you two hanging out, deciding it was time for you to grab a drink.

You lean in the fridge looking for something you’d want, finally deciding on a Dr. Pepper for yourself, then turn around and make your way to the couch, flopping down on it with one leg tucked under you, facing Chris who still has yet to acknowledge your presence.

“Hey,” you say, and he doesn’t look up, just hums at you as a reply. It’s good enough for you to know that he’s listening, so you continue to speak. “So this… date. Are we going?” You ask.

Chris huffs and puts his phone down, looking over at you who sat in your pajamas, clearly nowhere near ready for a date at a nice restaurant. “I mean, I really don’t want to lose out on my money but I also would rather swallow glass than go on a date with you, so I’m not really sure.”

You cock your head at him in annoyance. “I’m not that bad to be around,” you tell him again, hating that you had to convince a man to spend time with you. “It’s not like I want to hang around with you either but you need pictures and I need free food.”

Chris groans and throws his head back on the couch. “All you want me for is my money,” he sighs dramatically.

“Hey, that’s not true. I literally don’t want you at all, money or no money,” you tease, but it’s the truth. “But…” you drawl. “It just so happens that you have money and I think you should spend it on me tonight.”

Chris swings his head around to look at you, still resting on the back of the couch. “Well not to sound rude but you don’t exactly look ready for a date.” He gestures up to your disheveled state.

You gasp at him in fake shock. “What?! You don’t think I could go to a nice restaurant looking like this?”

“Whatever, dude. The reservation is for seven, and it’s four, so you should probably get home and get ready if you want to go,” Chris tells you and you nod at him, standing up from the couch.

“I’ll go home right now! And you better prepare yourself, date night me is a whole new breed of sexy,” you smirk at him. “Might make your little cool guy act crumble. Just make sure you don’t fall in love with me, okay?”

You walk towards the stairs and descend to the front door, sliding your crocs on. “Not a problem,” he yells from his same location, and you laugh before walking out the door and to your car, heading home.

-

You guys had texted and decided to just meet there since he definitely didn’t want to be picked up by a girl and he wanted to limit his time with you as much as he could, so that’s how you found yourself standing outside the restaurant by yourself wearing a little black dress and a cute pair of black heels, a small clutch in your grasp at your side as you waited for Chris to show up.

You’re not waiting long before he pulls up in an uber, letting himself out of the backseat, thanking the driver before he makes his way towards you. He’s in a pair of dress pants with a plain black button up, and you can’t help but admire his outfit as he walks up to you, gesturing for you to head inside in front of him. So, you turn and enter the restaurant, Chris holding the door open for you like a gentleman, then you both make your way to the host stand, having somebody lead you to your booth that was tucked away in the back corner of the restaurant.

You guys both settled in and got comfortable before looking up at each other, not saying anything, not even shooting a small smile at one another, both of you just grabbing the menu, breaking eye contact, looking at the appetizers on the menu.

It’s silent for a while, neither of you wanting to speak first, until your waiter comes up and introduces himself. “Hey guys! I’m Theo, I’m going to be taking care of you guys today. How are you guys doing?”

You smile up at him, the tall, handsome boy standing in front of you making you feel slightly nervous. “Aw, Theo, I love that name,” you coo. “We’re doing good, yourself?”

Theo grins back at you, placing a glass of water in front of you. “I’m great, thanks for asking. Date night tonight?”

You laugh and shake your head, leaning forward a bit on your elbows that rested on the table. “No, not exactly. Long story.”

Theo chuckles and nods, pulling out his notepad and a pen. “How long you guys been together?” He asks you both, pointing his pen back and forth at you and Chris.

Your eyes widen at the question, not expecting it at all. “Oh! We’re not-“

Chris clears his throat and slaps a hand on the table, signaling his annoyance. “Can we order drinks?” He asks, cutting you off mid sentence. It wasn’t super unlike him to interrupt you while you spoke, but the fact that he did it in such an aggressive way made you more angry than usual.

“Oh yeah, sorry, man, just trying to make conversation,” Theo chuckles awkwardly. “So, uh, what can I get you guys?”

You mouth a quick ‘sorry’ Theo’s way before you tell him what you wanted to drink, followed up by Chris placing his order, prompting him to walk away to put your guys’ order in.

“Chris, what the fuck was that?” You snap at him, voice quiet but still harsh, eyes sending daggers across the table.

Chris scoffs, rolling his eyes at you. “Seriously? He was talking way too much, I want to eat and I want to leave, I don’t want to sit here listening to you chit-chat with our fucking waiter forever.”

You shake your head in disbelief, letting out an annoyed huff of air. “You’re insufferable, Chris. God forbid you chill the fuck out for one night.”

Chris stays silent but still glares across the table at you, though you don’t meet his eyes. His mind is reeling, not even fully understanding what made him so mad in the moment. You were always a talkative person, always kind to customer service workers even when they didn’t deserve that, and Chris knew that, so why did he get so angry at the two of you talking?

He’s not able to process the thought before Theo is coming back and placing your drinks in front of you both. “Here you go,” he says to Chris, setting the drink down. “And the wine for the pretty lady.”

You slide the glass closer to you after it’s set down, beaming up at Theo. “Thanks so much.”

Theo just nods back with a small grin. “No problem, I’ll be back in a few minutes to take your orders.”

You look over at Chris who’s already looking at you, lips pulled into a tight line. “Pretty lady?” He repeats, clearly unhappy.

You frown, looking down at yourself before back up at Chris. “You don’t think I’m pretty?” You ask him, a teasing lilt in your voice. “I got all dressed up for… well, for you.”

Chris would never admit this out loud, but his heart skipped a beat at your words. It was no surprise you looked good, just like you had warned him, but the way you said you got dressed for him specifically made him grateful he wasn’t standing up, afraid his knees might go weak on him.

“Didn’t say you weren’t, just saying this guy’s a little weird,” Chris mumbles, breaking eye contact to look down at the menu he’s barely looked over.

You leaned forward a bit, slightly reminiscent of the first time you guys took photos together, cleavage peeking out sexily. “You jealous?” You ask him, tilting your head. “Jealous that someone that just met me has got the confidence to talk to me like that when you’ve known me for seven years and can’t even tell me you think I look pretty?”

Chris’s mouth falls open, trying to force words to come out, but none do. He’s just sat there looking like a fish out of water as he racks his brain for something to spit out at you.

“That’s what I fucking thought, tough guy. Watch your mouth.” You grab your glass of wine and take a large sip, sitting back in your seat.

There’s silence for a few minutes, both of you looking over the menus without speaking with one another, until Chris breaks the silence, but he’s so quiet that you don’t quite catch what he says, and you look over at him and ask him to repeat himself, feeling like your ears must be betraying you when you finally make out what he says.

“I said… I do think you look pretty.”

It almost sounds like Chris has to force himself to say the words, like they’re so unnatural falling from his lips, even after the kind words he said to you yesterday.

You stare at him, unable to think of a response. You feel like your mind is playing tricks on you, but when you see the look in Chris’s eyes soften, you know you heard him right. “Oh…” you mutter, unsure of what else to say. “I, uh… thank you.”

Chris nods his head and looks back down at the menu, wishing the ground would open up and swallow him whole, but unfortunately he was forced to stay seated across from you, feeling the awkward tension start to build.

You clear your throat and place the menu down on the table after a few moments of unbearable silence, wanting nothing more than to change the conversation back to something lighthearted and surface level. “I’m surprised you’re drinking,” you tell him, gesturing to the drink in front of him.

Chris scoffs. “Yeah, I’m gonna need it if I have to spend my night with you. You got wine, what’s the difference?” He quickly, and thankfully, slips right back into his normal attitude.

You shrug and go back to looking at the menu. “Just never really see you drink, it’s weird.”

He hums, disinterested in the conversation transpiring. “What are you thinking of ordering?” He asks you.

You think for a moment, eyes still flitting over the menu. “I don’t know…” you start. “Maybe… a steak? Surf and turf?”

Chris’s eyes widen and he picks his head up to look at you, meeting your eyes as you smile up at him shyly. “Just because we’re at a nice restaurant doesn’t mean you have to get the most expensive thing on the menu,” he says worriedly.

You wave your hand at him dismissively, pursing your lips. “It’s not the most expensive thing on there, it’s only like.. sixty six dollars! There’s an entree on here that’s seventy dollars, so… it’s fine, right?”

Chris shakes his head in disbelief. “This might be why you don’t have a boyfriend, you’re too expensive.”

You huff and pout at him, shoulders dropping slightly. “Boys don’t even know I’m expensive, I can’t even get a date. If I could secure a date I’d be happy with a fucking salad.”

“Then why not get a salad now?!” Chris exclaims.

You just smile and point your freshly manicured nail towards him. “Because you told me I’m super sexy and I don’t need to worry about my weight, so I’m indulging and getting something I know I’ll love,” you smirk as you use his words against him, knowing there wasn’t much he could say to that.

“Hold on, I don’t think I called you super sexy, I just said you looked good in that dress.” Chris retorted, holding a finger up at you as if telling you to be quiet.

“You said I looked really good and my body is incredible, so you might as well have called me sexy and fucked me on the bathroom floor,” you tell him, raising your eyebrows in a sassy manner.

“Yeah? Is that what you want?” Chris places his elbows on the table and leans in, tilting his head as his eyes bore into your own. “You want me to praise you and fuck you any chance I get?”

Your throat dries up at his words, and you’re trying to think of how to respond, trying to just get the word ‘no’ to fall from your lips, but you’re too in shock at the vulgarity of his words to even come up with a rebuttal.

Thankfully the waiter comes back in that moment, same wide smile plastered on his face. “Are you guys ready to order?” He asks, and you nod happily, ordering the second most expensive meal on the menu despite Chris’s complaints. He places his order as well and Theo grabs your menus from you, telling you both he’ll get your orders put in and have them out as soon as possible. But as he turns to leave, he sends a wink your way, causing your ears to heat up almost instantly.

“Dude,” Chris laughs, annoyed. “Is this guy fucking serious?”

You whip your head back to him, confused. “What?” You ask him.

“He’s winking at you,” Chris responds in an obvious tone. “While we’re on a date. He seriously does not understand bro code at all.”

You roll your eyes at him. “Chris, we’re not actually on a date. I told him that.”

“We’re at a nice restaurant spending hundreds of dollars on food and drinks, both of us are dressed up and we’re the only two people here, to him, it should look like a date. How the fuck does he have the balls to wink at somebody else’s girl while he’s at work? I should get his ass fired.” Chris rambles, eyes flitting all over the place as he speaks, not wanting to look at your reaction to his words.

It’s a good thing he’s not looking at you, because the smirk that slowly arises on your face would probably send him into a rage if he saw it. “Chris…” you start, reaching over to brush your fingers along his hand that rested along the table. “Is that jealousy I’m hearing?”

That gets Chris’s attention, turning his head back to you and meeting your eyes. “Jealousy? Jealous of what, someone finally giving your desperate ass attention?”

You tilt your head, noticing he still hasn’t moved his hand away, despite his words. “Jealous that he’s man enough to actually do it.”

Chris’s eyes narrow, your words like a punch to the gut, though he refused to let you see how what you said made him feel. He rips his hands away from you and places them on his lap. “I could have any woman I want, including you, you’re just mad that I don’t actually want you, just like all the other guys you try to fuck with.”

You shake your head and sit back in your seat, breaking eye contact with him and looking around the restaurant, knowing that you’d never be able to break Chris, even if he did have feelings for you. It’s not like it mattered, you just wanted to mess with him anyway. It’s not like you wanted Chris, right?

Right?

Chris takes a small sip of his mixed drink, eyes peering over the rim of the glass to see you looking around the restaurant, avoiding eye contact with him as much as you could.

“I always knew you had a crush on me.”

His words rip you from your nonchalant facade, head whipping back to lock eyes with the boy across the table once more.

“Excuse me?” You scoff back.

“You heard me. You have a crush on me, don’t you?” Chris smirks.

“Honey, if I have a crush on anyone, it’s Matt. He’s way hotter than you.” You tell him confidently.

Chris laughs. “Yeah right. You wouldn’t be so cozied up to someone you had a crush on. You’d act like you didn’t have a crush on them, like you do with me.”

You look at him incredulously, like what he was saying was absolute nonsense. “You mean like how you treat me?”

Chris realizes his analogy has backfired and he instantly gets defensive, cringing at the realization. “No, definitely not. I actually think you’re annoying as fuck and I wish you didn’t practically live at my house, but unfortunately my brothers think you’re enjoyable to be around. I just refuse to pretend like I actually like you, therefore I show my true feelings.”

You pause before speaking, wanting to see if you could break Chris’s shell a little bit since you did already have to spend the night with him. You might as well try to have a real conversation for once.

“Chris… why do you hate me? What have I ever done to you to make you treat me the way that you do?” You ask him carefully, your tone switching from a teasing one to more serious.

Chris is definitely taken aback by your question, not even sure he has an answer for it. He kind of expected the two of you to barely talk, eat your food and go home, but now that you were trying to initiate a serious conversation, he felt like he was at a loss for words.

“Hate is a strong word,” he starts, voice quieter than it was before. “I don’t.. really know. We’ve just always been like that and I guess I never thought to make an effort to change our relationship. You give me shit, I give you shit, you hang around my brothers like a parasite, I’m forced to be around you. I guess I don’t really know how it started, or at least… I don’t want to talk about it.”

You hum at his words, nodding your head slightly. “Is it something I did? Did I ever hurt you?” You ask him, nervous for the answer. “I’m sorry if I ever did something that made you feel this way about me. I never want to think of myself as a mean person and I love your family and I love your brothers and deep inside of me there’s a weird caring for you, too, and… I’m just sorry if all of this is my fault.”

Chris watches you intently as you speak, feeling a pang in his chest as your words rang through his ears. Having a serious conversation was not something the two of you did, so to have two meaningful conversations in two days felt like he was in an alternate universe, not really sure how to feel or how to react.

He breaks eye contact for a moment to look down at his lap where his hands still rested, fingers interlocked with each other, taking a deep breath before he looked back up and met your eyes again. “It’s nothing you did,” he promises. “I just… don’t think we were meant to be friends the way you’re meant to be friends with my brothers.”

You nod at him but stay silent, afraid your voice would betray you if you tried to speak.

Luckily, your food got placed in front of you and you both thanked the waiter before digging in.

There wasn’t a lot of conversation shared while you both ate, just a couple of comments made about the food here and there, and that continued on until both of your plates were empty and your glasses only had ice left in them. “That was so good,” you groan, leaning back into the booth and placing your hands on your stomach. “I don’t think I’ve had a better steak in my life, Chris, I’m so serious.”

Chris laughs at you, taking in the way you almost melted into your side of the booth. “Yeah, mine was pretty good, too. I can’t believe we both finished our food.” He says, a small part of him impressed with how much you were able to eat. He’s never really paid attention before, but you could seriously put down some food if you were feeling it.

“Oh, I can. I wasn’t wasting a single drop of anything,” you laugh, looking over at him while still leaning back into your chair.

Theo comes back over and starts cleaning your plates out of the way, asking you both how you enjoyed the food. “Any desserts tonight?” He asks you, smiling wide.

You look at Chris and then back at him, shaking your head. “I think we’re okay for tonight, thank you so much though.”

He nods and places the check on the table, reminding you guys there’s no rush before he heads off.

Chris immediately grabs the check and flips the book open, nearly choking at the sight of the total, to which you giggle a bit, knowing you weren’t going to cough up a single penny.

You knew Chris would never make you pay even for your portion, whether it was a fake date or not, he just wasn’t raised like that and was always going to pay for the woman he took out, even if it wasn’t ideal to spend over two hundred dollars on a dinner with someone he wasn’t even dating.

“Thanks, Chris,” you tell him sincerely, kicking him lightly under the table. He just grumbles a response and puts his card in the little booklet, setting it back down on the table.

The waiter comes back and grabs the booklet, telling you guys he’ll be right back, and he’s not gone long before he comes back, setting it back down in front of Chris. “Thanks so much guys, I hope you enjoyed your dinner and I’ll see you guys soon.” He turns his attention to you, smiling shyly. “This is for you.” He slides over a small piece of paper on the table, face down.

Chris looks at the piece of paper, then up at you, then up at Theo, all with a straight face. He reaches over and grabs the piece of paper, still holding it face down. “Theo,” he starts, and the waiter turns his head to him, clearly nervous. “If I turn this piece of paper over and there’s a fucking phone number on here, I am going to do irreversible damage to your body. I promise you, you will never be able to have children if that’s what’s on here. So should I turn it over, or would you like to take it back?”

Your eyes widen in shock at how Chris spoke to Theo, never hearing him get quite as aggressive as this before, and you’ve made him angry for the last seven years. “Chris!” You scold him, trying to reach over the table for his hand, but he just pulls it away.

Theo gulps, shifting on his feet uncomfortably. “Uh…” he starts, holding his hand out for the paper. “I’ll just, uh.. I’ll take it back, that’s fine.”

Chris hands it back to him and Theo wishes you both a good night before running to the back of the restaurant, as far away as he could.

“Christopher,” you spit, reaching over to smack him on the head. “What the actual fuck is wrong with you?”

He shakes his head, sliding out of the booth. “Let’s go.”

You watch him start to walk away and let out a groan, getting up to follow after him. “Hey!” You yell once you’re outside, heels clacking loudly as you run after him. You finally catch up to him by your car and you grab his shoulder, shoving him into your passenger door harshly. “What the fuck, Chris?!”

Chris keeps his gaze on the ground, refusing to meet your eyes.

“Why did you do that? He was clearly into me and he was hot! We weren’t even on a real date and you ruined my chances of maybe getting one. Now even if I go back in there he’s going to be too terrified to talk to me out of fear of getting castrated! Why on earth would you do something like that, Chris?” Your voice was angry, loud, at first, but towards the end it faded off into your normal volume, more disappointed than anything.

Chris just shrugged his shoulders, not sure what to say. “He was… he was looking at you like you were a piece of meat. It was gross, I… he clearly only wants you for sex.”

You scoff and run your fingers through your hair, still annoyed. “I like sex, Chris. I’m an adult, don’t you think that’s my choice to make? Maybe I just wanted to have sex with him, too.”

Chris finally looks up and meets your eyes, looking like a little kid getting scolded. “Yeah, well, he’s not good enough for you. End of story.”

That was it. Those were the words that finally set you off. “You don’t even treat me well! You’re always mean to me and hate being around me! How the fuck would you know what’s good for me?! You probably couldn’t even tell me my birthday, my favorite color, you probably couldn’t even tell me my eye color if I closed my eyes for two fucking seconds, so tell me, Chris. How the fuck do you know what’s good for me and what isn’t?”

Chris reaches his hands up to place them both on his head, body sizzling with anger and about to explode. “Because, I-!” He stops himself and drops his hands back to his sides, both clenched into fists. “I just do, okay? Can we leave?”

You laugh, literally laugh in his face. “Fuck no, not until you give me a real reason why you did that.”

You’re still standing relatively close to Chris, close enough to where he can’t really move without bumping into you, so it’s not really a surprise when he reaches out to plant a hand on your waist gently, pushing you to the side as he takes a step away, starting to walk towards the sidewalk. “Chris?” You call, and he ignores you, continuing to walk. You huff in annoyance and walk around towards the driver’s side, getting in and starting your car. You almost want to pick him up and take him home, but you decide against it, since Chris clearly knows everything. You figure you’ll let him walk however long it will take him to get home, and you start the drive towards your own apartment, wondering what the hell even happened tonight.

You think back to the date, the things you talked about and what he had said, until you land on the one comment he had made. ‘You want me to praise you and fuck you any chance I get?’

The words sent a chill down your spine as you revisited them, wondering why he had made you so nervous in that moment. It wasn’t something you had ever thought about, but now that the idea was planted, you couldn’t help but let the image play out in your head. Him ripping the dress off of you, telling you how beautiful you looked, hands running up and down your bare body, lips tracing over your skin. It had your ears burning and your thighs tense, imagining him lowering you to the bathroom floor, kicking the door shut behind him as his fingers trailed towards where you needed him the most, one hand covering your mouth and the other dipping inside of you.

You parked outside your apartment and shook your head to rid yourself of these thoughts. “What the fuck?” You said aloud. You sat there for a couple more moments, collecting yourself before you realized something that made you gasp quietly to yourself.

Chris didn’t even take any pictures.

-

a/n: huge thanks to @lucyluvschriss and @mattsbrat for some inspo on this chapter, the original date I had written was just them eating, grabbing ice cream and arguing and I think this is sooo much better and I wouldn’t have come up with the ideas without them. I’m so glad so many people are enjoying this au, i’m having a blast writing it! next part is probably where things are gonna start getting interesting 👀

taglist

info!! if you want to be tagged in this fic, please comment on the linked post above, it’s way easier to keep track of than if you ask on the actual parts of the story. if you comment on a story part and I don’t add you, I probably just missed it💙

@liiixsturniolos @madelinesturn @st6niolo @mattslolita @ifwdominicfike @sophand4n4 @chris-hallelujah @sophsturns @ariana2saucyy @045696 @scorpioosworld @byhrxb @vickytaa @taelovesmattsturniolo @secret-sturniolo @theboredknightcat-blog @slvtf0rchr1s @flouqissss @gabri3la-sturns @delilahsturniolo @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @vanillsstuff @sturnlsstuff @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @mattsfavoritestar @dominicfikeenthusiast @certified-sturniolo @chrisslollipop @noplaceissafeanymore @sofiaaguilaxx @idrk2292 @dylansfavwife @pvssychicken @sturnl0ve @sturnioloangelxoxo @afilmbykay @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan @r0s3luvr @milasturniolo @mattsdillion @birkinbratsworld @sturnburbs @aria003 @poppingmypussy4chris @victoryouactuallydidthis @seluky10 @annsx03 @ouchywow

[qlossytbh]

𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐭 - 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐱 𝐛𝐚𝐮!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 Spencer reacts to your new hair-do

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 fem!reader, just a lot of disgustingly sweet fluff, Spencer’s a blabbering mess, sweetheart!reader, sunshine!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 1.3k

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 i actually find this one so cute oml

𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

You walked the corridor, taking long strides as the sound of your heels clicked and echoed across the hall. You smiled sweetly at your fellow co-workers, as you struggled to hold the papers and books in your arms. 

People around the BAU usually loved bumping into you in the morning, mainly because of how infectious your good mood seemed to be. You always walked into work with that huge smile displayed on your features, immediately infecting those around you. No one understood how someone as bright and, in a sense, pure as you could work in such a mentally demanding environment. You’d sometimes take part of seeing the crime scenes and assisted in a few of those cases, but during most of them, you’d stay around and help Garcia with certain tasks and whatnot. 

You waved at one of your more familiar coworkers as you hurriedly made your way to the conference room, desperately trying to make it to the meeting where the rest of the team was waiting. A small wave of anxiety rushed through you, knowing that Gideon was bound to scold you one way or another for being late.

As you turned the corner, your body collided with someone else's, causing a few files to fly away along with two or three books, landing lightly on the ground. A small groan left your lips as you rubbed your arm, before you began to profusely apologize. "I’m sorry, I didn't—"

But to your suprise, when you motioned your gaze upward, you were welcomed with the familiar view of one of your favourite people in this whole office. "Spencer!"

You couldnt help how an increadibly wide smile splattered onto your face as you realized it had only been him whom you bumped into. You noticed however, how Spencer was just staring at you dumbly, moth slightly fallen agape, looking as if not a single thought was going through his head— which was a rare ocassion. 

"Your hair—" He said barely above a whisper as he took in your face. 

You furrowed your brows before dawning with realization. “Oh!”

You hand ran up to your now shoulder length hair and combed your fingertips through the ends of it with a small.

"Yeah, I felt like cutting it all off, seemed eaiser to maintain and I was aiming for it to be healthier, but I’m still getting used to it you know.." You said, leaning on your heels and looking at your friend who seemed too dozed off to be listening to anything you were saying.

And that he was. Spencer had been too busy rerunning his daily schedule in his head as he walked the halls, coincidentally, just as late as you are to the exact same meeting. He felt like an idiot for bumping into someone, cursing internally at himself, and felt even more horrified as he realized that it had been you. And to make matters worse, he had sent all your papers flying everywhere. The embarrassment he was feeling at that exact moment was uncomparable. 

But every running thought stopped when he looked at at you and god. He felt like wind had been knocked directly out of his chest and suddenly his mind went blank. He stared at your now short hair, admiring how incredibly breathtaking it made you look. 

The length framed your face perfectly, encentuating your cheekbones and jaw structure and from what he could see, you’d also gotten a small fringe done. Your cheeks glowed a natural pink hue while your eyes gleemed happily and Spencer couldve sworn in that instant second that you were the most beautiful thing he’d set his eyes on. 

"—Spence." You cut through his thoughts, reeling him back to reality. "You in there?"

He swallowed nervously before nearly jumping to his feet just to answer and prevent you from thinking he had some sort of mental problem for staring so much. "Uh— Yeah! R-right here.."

You dipped your chin slightly as he continued to look at you, your ever persistant smile still plastered onto your features. The sudden pattering of your heart didn’t deter you from observing Spencer with a curious gaze, wondering what was going on in that big head of his. "It's short…”

He mentally slapped himself. You laughed.

"Yeah, it is actually! Didn’t really plan on it being so short, I asked them to leave it longer but the hairstylist lady didnt really listen," You chuckled to yourself, running a hand nervously through your hair. "Do you like it?"

Spencers stomach was doing all sorts of flips and turns as you gazed up at him, looking so sweet. But he couldnt seem to emit any sort of words, anything he thought of responding seemed wrong and the words he wanted to say wouldn't move past the back of his throat. His eye quickly caught a glimpse of your scattered papers. 

"Shoot, uhm—“ He bent down and began collecting all of the pages together nervously. You offered him a humored smile before beinding down and helping him with all the fallen objects, shaking your head at his endearing antics.

It was always so humorous to see how collected and steady Spencer usually was, alwasy able to keep his thoughts into one straight line, aiming to get as much information out as possible, in the most cohesive way possible. He usually held himself so cautiously and carefully. His intelligence was something you loved about him. 

But to see how much of a blabbering mess he’d become around you, made you think very fondly of him. How his hands would begin to fidget nervously and how his words became all twisted. Spencer always had so much in his head, but the second you came into the picture, everything vanished— except the thought of you. 

Derek specifically always teased Spencer with his ‘oh so obvious’ crush, stating how he had 'no game' and if he didnt ask you out sooner he was going to do somethng about it. You were an absolute sweetheart and everyone knew you and Spencer would work perfectly. 

You finished collecting your last book and stood up, sighing in relief. You took one last look at Spencer, beofre looking up at him with a glint of mischeif in your eyes. "You should be careful next time Dr. Reid," 

Spencer could feel his pulse in his neck. He opened his mouth and closed it before clearing his throat. "Yeah, I wasnt really—“

"Spence," You called, pulling him out of his thoughts before he could become a stammering mess. "I’m just teasing."

Spencer swallowed and offered you his signature side smile, wihch cuased your own to grow. You looked behind you and gestured towards the other side of the hall. “We should proabably start walking if we want to—“

"It looks really good." Spencer spat out nervously, too quick for you to catch. You tilted your head, ever so slightly and raised your brows. You hummed, not quite sure you had heard the words that left his mouth. 

"Hmm?"

"Your, uh, hair—“ He prodded, pointed to your new haircut. "It looks really good— you look really good,"

Your smile grew and your eyes softened. You probably looked like a child on christmas morning. Heat rushed up to your cheeks as you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear timidly, suddenly scared by the way your pulse had quickened. 

"Thank Spence," Your voice was sweet as hunny and all he wanted to do was for you to continue looking at him the way you were right now. You stopped with a bit of hesitation, before welcoming him to come walk with you towards your conjoined meeting. "Walk with me?"

He nodded silently and walked by your side as you rambled about your weekend. Spencer loved talking about the things he knew, and sharing as many facts and statistics as he could, but when it came to you, all he ever wanted to do was just listen.

i may or may not have a little series in the works🤭

[nxuvillette]

“I PROMISE, IT WILL NEVER HAPPEN AGAIN.”

GENSHIN MEN COMFORTING YOU AFTER A FIGHT

synopsis: you and your boyfriend hardly ever fight, so what happens when you finally have one?

❥- including : tartaglia (childe), cyno, kaeya, wriothesley

❥- note : hi guys !! sorry if this post is kind of shit, i kind of rushed it. i hope you guys enjoy regardless <3 reblogs are appreciated !!

content warnings : sfw, fem!reader, ageless + blank blogs dni, angst, arguing, hurt with comfort, use of pet names (baby), fluff, dumb fights, lots and lots of fluff at the end.

♡ TARTAGLIA (CHILDE)

you and childe hadn’t spoken for much of the day, and this was due to an argument that happened between you two just before you sat down for some breakfast.

it was stupid, genuinely. 

childe had completely misinterpreted something you had said that morning. you were talking about one of your friends and their relationship. for some reason, childe thought you were comparing your relationship to the one your friend had, and it made him question if he was doing enough to make you happy. one thing led to another, and the two of you bickered over the encounter. you tried to explain yourself, but your boyfriend, being the stubborn man he was, didn’t bother to listen and went off on his own accord.

you and childe hardly had any fights. they would usually resolve after an hour or two, but you hadn’t seen him all day. part of you began to grow worried from his sudden absence. did he go out and do something to hurt himself? was he with somebody else? no, there was no way childe would ever cheat on you. he didn’t even look in another woman’s direction when he saw you that day. 

it wasn’t until sunset when childe had finally returned home to you. he had a few scrapes on his arms which seemed like they came from him battling another enemy, but regardless, he seemed to be in one piece. you were very relieved to see that he was fine. it made you run into his arms the moment he came into the door, which took your boyfriend by surprise. he was under the impression that you were still pissed off at him for the shit that he had pulled early on in the day. he knew he was wrong and he should have apologized, but he didn’t know how to put it into words. sometimes he wished he wasn’t so air headed. 

his arm went around your waist, bringing your body closer to his. the smell of his skin made you calm down. “i thought something bad happened to you..” your eyes didn’t move from the floor. 

childe could sense the worry that was in your voice. he shouldn’t have done that to you. he would never want to make you feel scared or put you under the idea that he would leave you. he wasn’t going to ever leave like that again, ever. “i’m sorry, baby..” he whispered, running his fingers along your backside. “i’m such an idiot.. i shouldn’t have said that shit. i love you way too much to hurt you..” 

you lifted your head to meet his ocean blue eyes. he had this frown on his features. you could see how guilty he felt for putting you in such a position. no matter what, you would always be in love with childe. no small argument would make your feelings for him shift, ever. you knew he could be stubborn at times, and honestly, so could you. all that mattered to you in the end was that you two made up and forget the whole thing. “it’s okay.. i still love you, okay?” you smiled at him, which made his heart skip a beat.

childe couldn’t help but smile, too. he leaned towards you and planted a kiss on your lips. he didn’t ever want to see you frown again. he would do anything to see a smile on your pretty face. “let me make up for it.. how about we take a bath together, hm?” he questioned, raising his eyebrows. 

you nodded your head. “sure..” you grinned.

♡ CYNO

you didn’t expect cyno to get upset earlier. 

cyno was in a bit of a rush that afternoon. he had a lot of things to tend to as the mahamatra, so he typically had a busy schedule. at the time, you had no idea that he had to be somewhere at a certain hour, so when you saw your lover wandering around aaru village by himself, you decided to go and talk with him to ask how his day was.

he kept his responses to you a bit shorter than usual, but that’s how he usually was. cyno was more the type of man to listen more than he did talk, but the more you kept speaking, the more he grew somewhat irritated. he had to meet with candace and discuss something that had occurred on his way there. he had to return as quickly as possible, though, because there were several people who needed his help out there. 

cyno had accidentally snapped at you, which in turn made you fire back at him.

it was very out of the ordinary for him to ever get angry with you. cyno was very patient, and he was especially with you. he was never the kind of man to be rude to you or yell at you, ever, so this threw you off completely. before he could even apologize, you left and went back to the place you two shared together. 

he didn’t return home until later that night. he had been thinking about what he had done all day, and it made him feel guilty for being that way towards you. you were his girlfriend. he loved you more than anybody else, and he managed to hurt your feelings because he was unable to control his very own. cyno hoped you wouldn’t want to leave him. anxiety plagued him the entire day. he wondered if he would return back to you and find that you deserted the home you two stayed in. 

much to his relief, you were lying in bed. you were turned on your side that was facing the window which exposed the vast desert outside. he sat down beside you and watched as your eyes fluttered open at the sudden weight taking over the bed. 

“i’m sorry..” cyno whispered, looking down at you with amber eyes. 

you sat up, crossing your legs on the mattress. you didn’t think he would come back being so apologetic, but you couldn’t help but forgive him. it did hurt your feelings a lot, but he was dealing with so much. it didn’t excuse what he did, but you two never fight. he wasn’t argumentative everyday. “it’s okay.. i just felt like shit for bothering you. i should have considered your schedule..” you didn’t want to look at him, but he tilted your chin to look into your eyes. 

cyno leaned in and hugged you, which took you by surprise. “no need.. i was an asshole for not controlling myself. you didn’t deserve any of that..” he squeezed your body. “i love you.. i hope you can forgive me.”

your hand rested on his shoulder blade. his skin felt warm from the blazing heat of the sun that he was under constantly. “i love you too..” you spoke. “i can forgive you, no worries.”

♡ KAEYA

you and kaeya had been dating for quite a while. since you were his girlfriend, there were some things that you needed to get accustomed to in the relationship.

especially kaeya’s drinking habit.

you didn’t mind that he would go off to the bars some nights to have a few drinks with his friends. hell, you did it a few times yourself with your own friends, but it became an issue when he would come late to your dates due to him being hungover the next day. you knew he couldn’t help but sleep an extra hour or two through the morning, but it had happened a few times and it led up to an argument occurring between you. you claimed it was a bother to you and he wasn’t being considerate of your time and energy.

what made it worse was kaeya usually was the one to make these plans, so for him to just not show up, it felt unfair to you. if he knew he was going to drink a lot, why would he continue to make plans with you the next day? it didn’t make any sense to you whatsoever, and you were tired of him either not showing up or having to go to his house to wake him up.

when you stormed out of his house and the door slammed behind you, kaeya felt immediate regret plaguing his chest. he did everything for you in the relationship and you did the same for him. he felt like he was an idiot for letting his drinking habits get a hold of your relationship. he didn’t have a drinking problem by any means, but he knew when he had too much he wouldn’t want to do anything the next day. you were right. it was unfair of him to miss out on spending quality time with you. he didn’t want to make you feel unimportant or a second priority. kaeya loved you more than life itself. how could he hurt the one person he poured his heart and soul into?

he gave you a bit of time to blow off steam. he knew chasing after you could escalate things further, so he decided to leave you alone for the rest of the day. however, he wasn’t about to let you both go to bed angry with each other.

so, when he showed up at your doorstep with a bouquet of flowers, you were quite surprised. you didn’t think kaeya would even bother making an effort to talk things through with you, but he was standing there with an apologetic expression. “can we talk? i understand if not.. but i just don’t want you going to bed pissed at me.” he clutched the flower stems in his hand, hoping you would hear him out.

you nodded your head, inviting him into your home and watching him step inside. kaeya then turned to face you, handing the flowers in your direction. they were your favorite, lamp grass. you loved the way they glowed in the dark. “kaeya.. i’m-“ you started, taking the flowers from him.

“i’m sorry.. i didn’t mean to keep missing out on our dates. i was a shitty boyfriend for keeping up with my behavior, and i shouldn’t have been doing that in the first place.” he cut you off, shocking you. “i love you, (y/n), and i don’t want you to think otherwise.”

you stood there for a few moments in silence. you weren’t sure what to say to him, but you could sense his genuine energy in his voice. “i forgive you..” you said, lifting your eyes to meet his. “i don’t want it to happen again, okay? i love to spend time with you and i don’t wanna feel like you dislike my presence.”

he took your free hand into his, placing a soft kiss on the top of it. he had been a gentleman since day one and it seemed like that attribute of him never left his personality. “i love seeing you more than anybody else, please don’t think you’re a burden. i’d do anything to spend any waking moment with you by my side, okay? i won’t ever do it again.” kaeya replied, stepping closer to where you were standing.

you smiled, pressing a kiss on the side of his cheek. he loved how soft your lips felt against his skin. “i appreciate that..” you sounded much happier, which relieved him.

kaeya wasn’t going to do that ever again. he could never lose you, ever.

♡ WRIOTHESLEY

wriothesley was quite a busy man. it was something you knew you were signing up for when you started to date him a few months back. his job was tiring, exhausting even. he had a huge responsibility on his shoulders to carry, and sometimes it stressed him out more than he would like to admit.

it seemed like that stress began to reach its breaking point, because wriothesley hadn’t been acting right over the last few days. you assumed he was just dealing with his job, so you decided to try and see if venting would have any relief to your boyfriend. you two had done it many times before when things got a little hectic in your personal lives. plus, you both trusted each other greatly. you didn’t think he would have an issue with it.

well, you were wrong, unfortunately.

when you made the attempt to speak to your boyfriend about what was wrong, he had a serious attitude, and things escalated to you two both having a fight. you didn’t like the way he was speaking to you and he was becoming upset with you for no reason at all. all you had asked him was if he wanted to talk, but it seemed like that question alone must have ruffled his feathers. 

you two never fought, so this had completely blindsided you.

wriothesley then left for work, leaving you by yourself in the apartment you lived in. it wasn’t your intention to make him angry with you. all you wanted to know was what was troubling him to make him feel so overwhelmed. that fact crept up on wriothesley immediately after he entered his office at the fortress. he shouldn’t have snapped at you that way. it wasn’t right, nor was it excusable. he was the one person who was supposed to make you happy, not hurt.

a few hours later, he returned home a lot earlier than usual. things were slow at the fortress, so he decided to leave early and try to patch things up with you. he found you sitting on the couch with a book in your hands, seemingly trying to read away what had happened earlier between you. you were a bit taken back to see him standing in front of you, but you didn’t know what to say to him. 

“i’m sorry.. i was out of line earlier.” he broke the silence between you. it was like popping a balloon. “i get it if you’re pissed at me.. i can give you space if you’d like.”

you sat there for a few moments. you closed the book in your hands and placed it on the wooden table in front of you. wriothesley was right. he shouldn’t have been that much of an ass to you. you didn’t deserve such treatment, but you loved him. he was never like that towards you and your friends had told you before that random fights are normal. “it’s okay.. i forgive you.” you replied, standing up to go in front of him. “please.. just promise me you won’t do that again.” 

his hands went to cup your cheeks. his thumbs brushed against your smooth skin. you could see how guilty he felt for doing what he had done. “i promise.. i swear, (y/n), i’ll never do that again. i could never hurt you like that, ever again.” he looked down at you with sincerity on his features. 

you leaned in to hug him. wriothesley inhaled the fresh scent of your shampoo and felt immediately calmed from your touch. he loved you, dearly. he could never do that to you again and he vowed to never pull a stunt like that with you ever again.

© NXUVILLETTE ┆ all rights reserved, do not repost, translate, or claim as your own.

[forlix]

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀・572 / 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴・felix x gn!reader / 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲(𝘀)・fluff, established relationship, lots of kisses hehe, slightly suggestive

“See you tonight, angel,” Felix says, leaning in to press a kiss to your lips. It’s chaste, short, familiar; your favorite form of farewell, exchanged inevitably before you part ways, even for only a few hours.

But this time, Felix doesn’t pull away afterwards, instead remaining so close to you that the tip of his nose is almost brushing yours, and there’s an ineffable glint in his eyes when he speaks again. (You should’ve known you were in danger.)

“Hang on,” he murmurs, his voice low and sweet, and then he leans in again.

When he presses his lips to yours the second time, he moves with an intensity that you aren’t prepared for. You feel his fingers slide over the nape of your neck and tangle gently in your hair; your head tilts backwards from the weight of his kiss, his tongue feather-light against the seam of your lips, his mouth laving over yours as tenderly as if he’s trying to drink you, savor you. Dimly, you feel your waist bump against the kitchen counter, and Felix doesn’t even think when he moves a hand protectively to the small of your back, returning you to your rightful place against his chest.

You are breathless and lightheaded when your boyfriend breaks the kiss, his lips flushed and hair messy, looking like a walking dream.

“S'that a new lip balm flavor?” He asks.

Bastard.

You collect yourself just enough to give him an answer, but it sounds more like a blissful sigh than a spoken response: “Strawberry.”

The smile that crosses Felix’s face is mostly bashful, but you don’t miss the self-satisfied huff of laughter that comes with it.

“I like it,” he hums. “A lot.”

And he kisses you one more time, and then another.

He ends up being late to practice that day, his rushed apologies to Minho falling out of strawberry-tinted lips.

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other works here. thanks so much for the support ♡

© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · all works are pieces of original writing and all characters and relationships are purely fictional. please do not repost or reuse for any reason.

[cherry-leclerc]

method acting ☆ cl16

genre: angst, yearning, humor, fluff, journalist!reader, established relationship

word count: 13.2k

There’s a lot of things you’d like to do differently in life. And the weeks leading up to that night is one of them.

inspired by this, this, and this !

cherry here!… hello there. sooo this was supposed to go up a few days ago, but silly me scheduled the wrong date, haha, so this is me formally apologizing for that. on a more lighter note: i’m so excited for you guys to read this one considering this is the re-written version of ‘method acting’ if you guys even remember the original version. love u all very much, and enjoyyy :)

From his boyish smile, to his dominant smirk—you knew it all. 

The way it would slowly start to spread, but always ended with a dimple. You loved many things in life—many, many things—but nothing comes close to him. From the very start, he’s been gentle. A gentle giant, you’d sometimes joke with a teasing voice, to which he’d roll his eyes yet never deny. 

The way he’d start every sentence with—honey—and end with—I love you. The way he’d cradle your face between his hands, kissing the corner of your mouth first before pressing down completely. The way he’d translate for you with all the patience in the world. Everything about him had been so easy to learn, so easy to love.

But here, in a room, staring at each other, you begin to wonder if you ever knew him at all. Because suddenly you don’t know what the frown on his face means. What the furrowed brows with the pinched expression interpret to. You don’t know any of it. 

Why are you so surprised, though?

You caused this, anyways.

-

“I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that you don’t know how to use a USB, Lis. Aren’t you supposed to be, I don’t know—tech savvy?” 

Lissie aims a harsh glare before tapping her nail against the computer screen as if that might make the process a whole lot quicker. “So what? I lied on my resume. Everybody does it.”

You chuckle. “Who even uses USB’s nowadays?”

“Apparently Grandpa Will. Oh, yay, it's done!” She shimmies. “I’ll see you later, m’kay?” With that, she zips down the paddock without a second glance. You sigh, gathering your stuff and making your way down the busy crowd, heading straight towards Ferrari Hospitality. 

He’s on his computer when you first walk in, keys clicking. He nibbles on his bottom lip, knits his dark brows like he’s in pain. As soon as you tap your finger against the wall, he perks up, all his interest suddenly gone. He grins. “And to what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Lis,” you respond, claiming a seat next to him. 

The Monegasque hums, leaning in to kiss your lips swiftly. “Thank you, Elisabella.” You giggle, sneaking a quick peek at his open screen. “Whatcha’ workin’ on? Wait—let me guess. You’re getting your marriage license annulled?”

“To be with you, yes,” he agrees, nodding enthusiastically. “How do you think Joris is going to take it?”

A playful shrug. “He’s just going to have to accept it, no?”

“I suppose.” Snapping the computer shut, he fixes himself, head pressed softly against your lap, closing his eyes. The sight of his even breaths and curved nose makes you smile as you start threading your fingers through his hair. He sighs, tense shoulders instantly rolling back. “Journling, and whatnot. It’s a habit that has a near expiration date, for sure, but is quite nice as of now.”

And though he can’t see you, your neat brows raise up in surprise. “Journaling on an electronic device? Why not an actual journal? You know—something authentic. I actually know of a place back in Portland where they sell some cute ones, ver—”

“I’m not looking for cute. I’m looking for security.” A beat. “I’d lose it in a week, and we don’t want that happening, now do we? My laptop works just fine. Plus, I feel more at peace knowing it’s not something I will just leave behind.”

“I wouldn’t put it past you,” you declare, enjoying the way his lips twist with a childlike snarl. “Anyways, I’m glad you’ve picked up on a new hobby. It’s good for you, Charlie.”

“Learned from the best.” You blush. “By the way, media shouldn’t last longer than an hour? Wanna go out?”

“Aren’t you tired?” you question, forcing his eyelids open as he squirms, pushing your hand away.

“A little. But I still want to do something with you.”

A tired sigh. “Cute, but I can’t. Lissie and William are out for today, so it’s just me, which means I have to conduct all the interviews by myself.”

The brunette bats an eye. “Why?”

“She forgot she had a deadline—hence why I was busy helping her—and Will still has to look it over. They have to send it in by midnight and it’s—it’s a lot.”

“Why couldn’t she just email it?”

“That’s what I’m saying!” you screech, causing him to flinch and squeeze his eyes. Sheepishly, you pat his head. “He insisted on a USB. Says he wants all work done like the olden days.”

“That sucks,” he mumbles. “And who even uses USB’s nowadays? They’re so outdated.”

“That’s what I’m—” You stop, mid-sentence, lowering your voice when he sits up and scoots away. “Saying,” you finish, whispering. You purse your lips, sending a slight grimace. “You get it.”

Charles nods, standing up and placing his laptop into his duffel bag. “I’ll come back and pick you up, yeah? Meanwhile, I can maybe cook something for us.”

“Honey,” you coo. “I love you, but please don’t.” His face drops. What the fuck? You giggle. “How about take-out?”

“How about,” he mutters, stiff as a statue when you press your lips down onto his jaw, but quickly melts. “Chinese?”

“Sounds good.” Another peck. “I’ll call you!”

-

If you remember—and you do remember—you fell in love with writing ever since you watched The Devil Wears Prada. It was a reset for you because before that you had seriously considered going to law. At first, you started with column writing in your school's newspaper. No one ever read it, you’d always find it on the floor after being trampled on, but you never cared. 

Soon after, you started publishing smaller pieces here and there on your fashion blog that has since been taken down, but that was the moment you knew. Thing was, you wanted to nurture this into a career, you really did, but nothing to do with fashion, rather sports. 

Maybe it had to do with the fact that every Sunday your Grandpa would beg for you to come over to his house and watch the races with him. They were extremely boring at first. Who willingly drives for roughly two hours in loops? Then, it clicked. Everything changed and you were enthralled. 

After that, all you knew was that you wanted it bad. It was hard, studying over time in order to get done quickly and just start working, but it was well worth it. You met Lis the same year she started working with Formula One, so you both figured a lot of things out together, and for two years, it was just you and her, interviewing and writing about the drivers on the grid.

But he noticed you both years ago.

He first noticed the burn on the back of your left leg. He initially thought it was a band-aid by the way it healed, but later found out you had burned yourself with a curling iron back in highschool when you were rushing to get your senior pictures taken. Then he noticed your eyes and the way they always had a glimmer to them, even if something wasn't going your way. He respected the hell out of you after that.

 How do you do that? 

You freeze. Do what?

Stay so…so—optimistic. Happy, I suppose.

You laughed then, and he saw the way your hair fell over your shoulder like a silk curtain. He would have smiled if he wasn’t so stuck up on that. It’s all a facade. They way you see me—it’s not real.

Believe me, I don’t think you’re real.

You blush, looking back down at your journal where you’ve been too busy scribbling prior to his question. You just have to ignore them sometimes, you know? Remind yourself that they don’t know you and you don’t know them. Trust me, it helps.

And after that, you two never stopped talking. 

Whether it was about work, or perhaps even the weather, you two always had something going on. Something everyone noticed, but never brought up. And at one point, you confessed your next dream.

Journalist of the Year, he repeated, a goofy smile slowly itching his skin. Yeah, I can see that.

It’s not that easy, though, you retort, exhaling heavily. I mean, I’ve been doing this for quite a while now and I haven’t even been considered once, which is fine, maybe I’m not good enough, but maybe it’s also time to…I don’t know—give up?

He kept quiet, kept his eyes focused on you, and frowned. If it’s something you want, then it’s most likely something you can have. 

Pft, you scoff. Nah. Not this. It’s nearly unattainable for someone like me. Even Lissie has won, and we’ve been here for the same amount of years. Now I’m not saying she doesn’t deserve it, but that just comes to show that there’s always someone better. And I’m just here. You look up. It’s okay, you can laugh.

A beat. I could be a hypocrite to tell you that it’s not good to measure how talented you are or how talented you can be based on some award, but Jesus Chrsit, I do the same thing. I understand. And it’s because I understand that I’m telling you to keep working hard and prove yourself to them. You have it in you—I’ve known ever since we met. You smile. Your time will come, yeah?

And for the first time: you believed it. 

A nod. Thanks, Charles. Yours will too.

About a month later, you two started officially dating. It almost seemed too good to be true at times, but wherever he looked for you in the crowd, you knew it just had to be. 

But the start of your relationship was also the end of something else.

Interviews and articles? 

He nods. Right. None of that.

You follow his actions, nodding numbly as you blink. So, no more working together? Because you want me to have a fair shot?

Yes, he confirmed. I just don’t want you to be nominated—because it’s only a matter of time, I have a feeling—and feel as if they picked you simply because of your dating status. 

Who’s going to do all of that, then? 

There’s plenty of other reporters. Lissie? Will? Maybe even Natalie. He took a step closer, grabbing your hands gently. What I’m trying to say is that I want you to feel accomplished. That what you did was simply because of your work, and not having to do with your connections because trust me, that doesn’t feel good.

But I love working with you. You give his hand a squeeze, tilting your head and smiling sadly. You’re my favorite person to write about and talk to…

And he genuinely seemed to be pained by your words, wincing.

But you suck it up because you know he’s right. I’ll always be your favorite?

Only the best.

A hum. Alright then. You take a step back, extending your hand for a professional handshake. He smiles, taking it and giving it a good tug.

 It was nice working with you, Mr. Leclerc.

-

“I’ll never understand,” Lissie starts, pressing the elevator button for the twenty-fifth floor and chewing on a licorice. “Why you two ever create such a stupid rule like that?” A hard chew. “All I’m saying is that it could have definitely helped you out a whole lot. You probably would have won by now.”

You roll your eyes, but not without thinking how she might be right. You’ve definitely wondered about a world in which you two hadn’t taken this approach, and while it would have been nice, you also know that it would have felt a little less special knowing that being a nepo to Charles had something to do with it. Which is most likely what would have happened, let’s be completely honest here. 

“You came to this arrangement, what? Twenty years ago, maybe fourty? And it’s not to be rude, but you haven't been nominated, so was this really worth it if it hasn’t made much of a difference?”

“Okay,” you grunt, ripping the red candy away from her and throwing it into the nearby trash as soon as you step out of the elevator. She pouts, following along. “I think we get it, I fucked up, very funny.”

“No,” she hums. “I never said you did, I was simply thinking, that's all.” You scoff. “But whatever. I have a feeling this is it. You definitely have it in the bag. They’d be crazy not to add you for a fourth time!”

Spinning, you smile bitterly at the Brit girl. She gulps. “Thank you, Lis, your mild support is very much appreciated.”

You turn back around, walking faster.

“Sheesh, sorry,” she hisses, entering the familiar office with a lost expression.

Carly, your manager runs over, practically jumping onto you and hugging you tight. “Lis, close the door!” You groan at the loud sound against your ear, but she's none the wiser, already embracing you harder. “You did it!”

“I told you!” Lissie shoots smugly.

You freeze, heart racing. “You’re lying.”

“I’m not lying—”

“Why would she be lying?”

Letting go, Carly lets out a delirious laugh. “Everything—all of it—has finally paid off. You did it, you’re on the list!”

“Holy shit,” you whisper in disbelief, playing with your necklace as you pace the spacious office. Lissie and Carly both grin at each other from ear to ear, nodding enthusiastically. You come to a halt. “Are you making this up because I said I would kill myself if I didn’t make it this year because, for your information, I was totally kidding!”

“It’s not a joke,” the redhead squeals, jumping again. “I’m so proud of you!”

“I am too!” Lissie shrieks, running and kissing you face as you try your best to swat her away even though you’re laughing. “Even after what I said in the elevator, I knew this shit was the real deal this time! Didn’t I tell you? Carly, I told her.” She twirls you, making you grin harder.  “You won!”

“Okay, let's touch some grass, ladies,” Carly cuts in. “We can’t forget that this is just a nomination and that there’s still work that needs to be done in order to secure our best chances.”

“Right,” you respond, elegantly fixing yourself and nodding up and down. You freeze. “Wait, what work? I thought this was it?”

Carly shakes her head. “Oh honey, we’re just getting started.” A pause. “You have to write an article.”

“I am—confused. What do you mean by article?”

The Brit takes a seat in a nearby chair, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “It’s their one and only requirement. Show them why they should pick you.”

Carly nods, red hair bouncing. “Shouldn’t be too hard. You’re as talented as they come. Just do what you do, but…better!”

Color drains your face as you go back to pacing. “What do you mean better? This is all I got! There’s nothing left to show, oh God—”

“What are you talking about?” your manager yelps. “There’s always more!”

“Exactly,” Lissie hums, somehow munching on another piece of candy. “There’s always—that, yeah. More.”

Your eye twitches. “Okay, you already went through this and won. How did you do it?”

She pouts, tapping the licorice against her lips before clicking her fingers. “I wrote my piece on fashion and how it’s made its way into Formula One. Wasn’t even that hard. Well. Shouldn't be. Write what you know and it’ll come to ya, they say. Or maybe they don’t, but definitely still do that.”

Your shoulders drop, plopping down next to her and placing a pillow over your face. “Fuck. That’s genius.” It is, isn’t it? she mumbles, slowly chewing in deep thought. Screaming into the pillow, you feel the frustration you didn’t have a second ago finally erupt. “What am I going to do?”

“Sweetheart,” Carly starts, forearms pressed against her glass desk, and stern eyes trained onto you. “You have got to be one of the most raw writers I have ever worked with.” A beat. “Sorry, Lis.” 

“Screw you,” she snarls, focusing on her phone now. 

Your manager sighs, rubbing her temples. “And please take that as a compliment because it is. You don’t hold back, and you tell it how it is. That’s what makes you one of the best! And if it weren’t for you wanting this, I would have definitely sent an angry email on your behalf because you deserve this more than anyone.”

“Wow,” the Brit muttered, raising her dark brows. 

“Sorry,” she mumbles, cringing. “But you’ve won already, Lis, and we supported you, and now…” She faces you again with soft eyes. “We’re doing this for you. You got it, m’kay?”

“But—” your voice cuts off as you blink rapidly, losing focus with the thought of failing, imprinting itself into the forefront of your mind. “I don’t know what to write about, which is weird because I always have an idea, at least. That’s simply a bad sign, that much I know.”

“It’s only bad if you think it is,” Lissie says, clicking her phone off and smiling gently. “But in all honesty, I think it’s actually quite good. That means you know what's at stake, and you know you have to make this the best goddamn article in your entire life.” A beat. “Write what you know, I’m telling you.”

“What she said,” Carly squeaks cheerfully, eyes crinkling as she starts pouring champagne and handing them one by one. “But just so you know, we have to get this in by October thirteenth because they make their decision by the sixteenth.”

“But that’s Charles’ birthday week,” you wail, rubbing your eyes harshly. “Fucking hell—”

“He’ll understand,” Lissie cuts you off, clicking her glass against Carly’s who shrugs, sipping neatly. “All of us know he will.”

“Okay then,” you whisper slowly. You curl your hand tighter against the glass. “Cheers?”

“Cheers, mate!”

-

Entering his Monaco flat, Charles lets out a tired sigh, taking his shoes off and flinging his keys to the nearby coffee table. The loud thud makes him flinch before running over hurriedly. A large scratch lays across the rich wood as he panics, kneeling down to inspect it carefully.

“Are you serious, Charlie?” he hears over his shoulder, jumping to find you with a frown on your lips and hands on your hips. “That was a gift!”

“I’m sorry!” he squeaks. “From your Grandpa, I know, I’m sorry!”

You let out a breath, shrugging. “It’s fine. How was your day?”

He eyes you suspiciously once before getting closer to you and kissing you hello. “Eh. Decent. Yours?”

Plump lips twist before flattening back out. “Decent.”

He squints, noticing the way you play with your necklace. “You’re lying.”

“No, I’m not,” you answer quickly. Defensively.

His brows furrow deeper. “Blow me.”

“Blow you?”

“Yes. Right here, right now—blow me.” He demonstrates, letting out a breath as if taking a breathalyzer test. 

You let out a sore laugh, rolling your heels as you stumble back. What? Your laughing stops, though tears run down your face as you try to get your words out. “You mean breathe out, not blow you.” Your giggles pick up once again, making him blush deep red. “God, you need to learn a bit more proper english.”

He looks away, cringing at the sound of his voice replaying, and then turning with a stoic face. “Don’t change the subject.” A pause. “Breathe out.”

You freeze. “Why?”

“Don’t ask questions, just do it.” “I’m not going to do it.”

“Just do it,” he presses harder.

You glare. “No. I’m not.”

Taking one last glance, he leaps forward with zero warning and starts tickling you, making your squeal. Stop! “Breathe!” I am breathing, you twat! “Blow me—God damn it! Whatever! Blow! Breathe! Blow!” 

“Fine, fine, just stop!” you screech, giggles coming to an end as he nods and stares down at you, which by now, you’re laid down on the couch with him towering over. You blush, breathing out lightly, nearly nothing. He rolls his eyes. Blow me harder. “Blow me harder,” you mimic, copying his accent. 

He groans. “You get what I’m saying—”

“I don’t, though,” you joke, laughing harder. As soon as your eyes shut, he smiles down at you affectionately, but when they open again, he reverts his lips back into a straight line. Your lips wobble playfully. Letting out a big breath, he whiffs strongly. “Gross, Cha!”

“You smell like strawberry sorbet, relax.” A beat. “Open your mouth and stick your tongue out for me.”

“Okay, this is getting really kinky.”

He aims for a deadpan expression. 

Rolling your eyes, you do as you're told and he lets out a scream. “What the fuck!”

“It’s red!”

“No duh, Charles!”

“Strawberry sorbet. The last pint. You ate it all, didn’t you?”

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

“So that's a yes.”

You frown.

“And we always share, but when we don’t it’s because you’re going through something and you couldn’t help yourself.”

“Okay, Sherlock Holmes, we get it,” you grunt, pushing him off as you sit up. He does the same, staring at you, concerned. “By the way, does that upset you?”

“The ice cream? Nah.”

You nod, then yawn. “Why do you have to be so attentive?”

“Because I love you.”

You smile. “I made it onto the list.”

“The list?”

“The list.”

A wide grin dances across his pink lips as he jumps onto the coach, up and down, making you bounce and stare up with a soft look. “The list! Thee list. Holy crap, congratulations, honey!” Landing on the ground, he hugs you, digging his face into the crook of your neck and kissing it over and over. “You smell nice—congrats—is that citrus—wait, this smells really nice—”

“It is citrus,” you giggle as he separates from you. “And thanks. It means the most coming from you.”

Silence takes over for a second or two before his brows knit neatly. “What’s wrong?”

“No. Nothing.” They raise up higher. “I’m not gonna lie—I’m scared.”

Tugging you closer to his chest, he drags so you two are laying back down. You close your eyes at the feeling of his arms wrapping around you like some blanket. “About what? You totally got this.”

“Hmph. It’s just that, I, uh. I have to write an article on a topic of my choice, and—I. Don’t know? I have no clue what to write about.”

Listening attentively, he doesn’t interrupt as your words begin to pour out like a prayer. He doesn’t even interrupt when you say something along the lines of being “at best—mediocre”, even though he really wanted to. You scoff. “It’s a silly problem to have, I’m well aware, but…it’s the truth.”

The Monegasque picks your breathing patterns, mindlessly copying as you cuddle him. “You’ll figure it out.”

You swiftly look up, cheek pressed against his heart beat. “That’s it?”

“What else do you want me to say?”

What do you want him to say? Your lips open aimlessly, then close forcefully. 

He grabs a nearby blacket, covering you both and hugging you the same he’s seen you hug your teddy bear. “I think you need to have a little bit more faith. In yourself, that is. Because your mind…” Green eyes connect with yours as your breath comes to a strong halt. He tends to make your body react that way, quite often. He sends a simple grin. Dimples and all.

“It's the most beautiful thing on this earth.”

-

Abu Dhabi 2021.

It’s been talked about too much already.

Spain 2016.

You’re kidding, right?

Fine. Azerbaijan 2018—

You let out a muffled scream. “Pierre, no! I need something better.”

“Better than all that drama?” he dead pans, genuinely confused as to why his ideas are being shut down.

You exhale, hair flying outward. “I love it too, but I need something new. Unheard of.”

The Frenchman pauses, curling a brow. “I’ve gone blank.”

You bite down on your tongue, shrugging it off. “It’s okay. I should probably come up with my own topic, anyways.”

Getting up, you wave goodbye and make your way to the ice cream truck that’s been rented out for the weekend. Smartest investment, you think to yourself as you twirl your tongue around the lavender spoon. 

“This time I really do mean it—blow me.”

Squinting up at the sun—which so happens to be behind Charles like a halo—you chuckle, feeding him a spoonful. “Good, no?”

“Delicious,” he hums, going in for another. “Have you tried the funnel cakes?” They have funnel cakes? you squeal, eyes shining. He nods. “Want one?”

You deflate. “Later.”

Watching the crowd walk by, you two sit there, switching turns and enjoying each other's company. It’s amazing how no one comes up to Charles, either. Not that he would mind, but it’s definitely a nice surprise. Glancing over, he hands the spoon back to you. “Come up with something?”

“I have a few ideas, but nothing solid yet.”

Pistachio ice cream melts away faster. “I told Pierre to leave you alone, I hope he didn’t bother you too much.”

“He’s actually the reason why I have these ideas. Don’t let him know, though, I would never live it down.”

Watercolor eyes go wide. “Really? Pierre actually helped?”

“Weird, huh?”

“Without a doubt.”

“Don’t stress out too much, honey. You still have time.”

You purse your lips. “But the sooner I figure it, the sooner I can start and just focus, and do the proper research and try and—”

“You have time,” he reaffirms with a knowing look. You cock your head and he sends a sly grin. “Plenty.”

“Plenty,” you copy as he nods along. Extending his arm, he signals to the spoon. You shake your head. “You can have the rest.”

“You’re the gift that keeps on giving.”

-

Write what you know. Write. What. You. Know.

What the fuck does that even mean?

Biting down on your pen, you’re spaced out, staring at the picture frame. In it, Charles and Carlos smile, you can tell, behind their helmets. While the Monegasque’s eyes crinkle sweetly, the Spaniards are dilated and wide. Both nice, but nothing beats those green eyes. 

You can slowly feel your sanity slipping away, day by day. There’d be times where you thought you had it figured out, but then you’d bring it up and Lissie would smile and say—

“Yes! Stick to that one! Start it. Right now.”

It wouldn’t seem genuine because you know she just wanted you to get it done given it’s due in less than two weeks. And even though it was good, it wasn’t good enough. 

“I’m just going to brainstorm a few more ideas.”

She’d given up, mumbling beneath her breath and grabbing her keynotes and headed to her meeting. Well, technically it was your meeting too, but again. Time crunch.

Hence, why you’re admiring the picture and thinking harder than you were a minute ago. The door slides open then, the two Ferrari drivers back from their media duties. You rip your gaze away as soon as they make their way closer. “How does one fake their own disappearance?”

“Oi,” the brown eyed boy warns, toothy grin expanding. “Good question, though.”

“Oi, you,” your boyfriend warns back, glaring at his teammate. “At this point, I’m sure she’d go through with it.” He turns to you. “Honey, you’ve got to decide already, it can’t be that hard.”

“I know that!” you burst out, ears burning as you avoid their eyes. “But there’s just so much! I don’t want to jump the gun and make a mistake, is all.”

Carlos juts his lip, then rolls his jaw. “If only you took someone’s very good proposition.”

A scoff. “I wasn’t going to write about Papaya Rules, Chili.”

“It would’ve been so good, though!” A beat. “What about—”

“Nor multi-21.”

His expression drops, along with his shoulders, and strolls away, flipping you off. I hope you figure it out, then! A low chuckle makes its way as you exhale loudly. “C’mon, what’s the problem this time?”

You bite your lip, brows drawn in together as you gaze back at Charles. “I’m not entirely convinced.”

“Honey…”

“A-and I know I’m running out of time, but I just want it to be perfect!”

He smiles, throwing his arm on your shoulder. “And it will be, but you need a topic.”

“Yeah…” You raise a brow.  “What happened to having ‘plenty’ of time?”

The Monegasque wiggles his brows. “You can’t take up too much advantage.”

-

I’ve decided. 

That’s the lie you settle with because quite frankly, you’re done with the constant questions. If you were going to come up with the best matter to write about, then you need to have a clear head. Carly is over the moon, Lissie is ecstatic, and Charles is proud. 

Great! What’s it going to be about?

It’s a surprise. 

At first, they were all as curious as can be, but later when you insisted that it’d be better that way, they nodded, though the interest was still there. 

Now—with only a week and a half before your due date—you lay, plopped on your stomach, fingers teasing the keyboard as you watch Charles jump into his race suit. You sigh, sitting up. “I think I’m going to stay in here today.”

He fixes the zipper. “Yeah?”

You nod. “That way I can work and watch you.” You point to the T.V. hung up on his room wall. “Is that okay with you?”

“Whatever you need to do in order to focus, baby.” A wink. “It’s fine by me.”

They’re in lap sixty out of seventy-five, the last time you check, and your page remains as white as a ghost and as bare as a newborn baby. It’s both amusing and mind-boggling. Groaning, you hit your head with the back of your hand before running it down your face. Then, to make matters worse, your laptop dies.

Shit, you grit as you look around and spot Charles’ placed neatly on top of a nearby chair. Strolling over, you grab and open it, typing in his passcode and signing into your account. A few seconds later, the blank page resurfaces. Blinking slowly, you spot it. 

Notes. 

You take a look around, but really don’t know why since you’re the only one in his motorhome, and then click onto the App, furrowing your brows with concentration. 

Turns out, you really like to read because one after another, you skim through his journal entries without a second thought. Eagerly, might you add. Some things you know, others you don’t, but nevertheless, you’re caught off guard. How sensitive he is and how it portrays in every word. Not only are you amazed, but you’re completely engrossed. 

And it sparks something in you.

With a large grin, the brunette makes his way back to his room, trophy in hand and handshakes and pats on the back all around. Grazie mille, he beams as he makes his way closer, sending a final wave before opening his door. Finding you with his spare helmet over your head, he laughs. You giggle, opening the visor. “That’s one good looking winner!”

He laughs, placing the gold trophy down and enjoying you the way you struggle to take it off. You let out a loud gasp as soon as he assists you, tugging it off. “Shit.” Another gasp. “How do you wear that thing for two hours?” Fixing your hair, you pat it down as you send him a sheepish smile. “Give me a kiss!”

“No thanks. Too sweaty.”

Pouting, you pinch his ear tenderly before he gives in, pressing his lips against yours. “You were amazing out there, Charlie. You really were, I want you to know.”

Green eyes soften as he tries his best to savor this moment. “Only cause you say so.” You giggle, hugging his waist and he drapes his hands over your shoulders and rests his chin on top of your head. “How far along were you able to get?”

A hum. “Quite far, actually.”

He lets out a whistle, making your cheeks glow. “Looks like we’re both having a good day.”

“Looks like,” you swoon. “Looks like.”

Tilting your head back, you match with his eyes as he sends a dimpled smile. 

Write what you know, you think to yourself as he leans back down to kiss you. His lips greedily crash against your own as you let out a soft moan, playing with his hair, large hands making their way down to your ass. And you, my dear Charlie…

He groans, shuddering as soon as you grind back against his thigh. You smile, admiring his open mouth.

I know you very well.

-

You feel guilty when you start on your first page, but by the time you make it to your third, you’ve talked yourself out of it. You would explain. As soon as you’re done, before you turn it in, you would explain it all to him. Tell him that this is simply because you love him. How he’s your biggest inspiration, and how this wasn’t you using him, but rather you showing others how amazing he truly is.

He notices it right away—the determination. And he admires you for it because he hasn’t seen you like that ever since your writer’s block. So, he tries not to intrude in moments where you’re on a roll, and instead makes sure to have a bath ready for you. He joins you sometimes, too.

Cracking your fingers, you yawn, exhausted, and stretch like a cat. He chuckles, closing his book like a light thud. “Update?”

“Six pages.”

“Wow. You really got it going on.” You blush. “You deserve something sweet. What do you want?”

“But it’s so late, and you have to be up early tomorrow…”

He rolls his eyes, already grabbing your trench coat. “It’s a bit cold out right now.”

You smile.

It’s not that far of a walk, three miles. After buying you a hot chocolate—with extra whip—he takes your mitten covered hand and leads you out the small coffee shop. By now, not many people are out, so it makes for a calm stroll.

“Shhh—ah,” you hiss, tongue sticking out as your face twists with subtle pain. He laughs, eyes crinkling. Drink slowly, he says, voice laced with humor. “The cool air helps,” you murmur, blowing on the hot drink. “Are you sure you don’t want anything?”

He shakes his head. “I just wanted you to unwind.”

“You’re so thoughtful,” you coo, enjoying the way his ears turn pink. You giggle. “Why do I feel like you’re thinking about something, though?”

“I am. You.” A gust of wind dances. “Always.”

You purse your lips, taking a slow sip, lipstick painting the white lid. “I’m serious, Cha. You’ve been quiet ever since you got off that phone call two hours ago.” Neat brows knit together with concern. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” he answers, but it’s too quick for it to be the truth.

Giving his large hand a squeeze, you send a knowing look. His breath hitches. “You can talk to me—”

“Are you almost done with your article?” he asks, obviously changing the topic as he stares up ahead, and if not, down at his shoes. Pink nose twitches. “I miss you, and call me greedy, but I was hoping you’d be done before my birthday, at least, that way we could…I don’t know—” He shrugs. “You’ve just been really busy—which I get why, and I understand—but I miss y-you.”

Wincing, you chew your bottom lip a couple times before letting go. “Almost, but.” His shoulders drop, making your stomach twist. You panic. “I feel like I’m missing something. Like the final bang in order for it to be…” A beat. “I’ll be done before your birthday, you can count on that.”

Round eyes finally flicker up as he nods, a more relaxed look evident. “This makes me sound so needy,” he says. “Which I guess I am, bu—”

“Don’t apologize,” you cut him off with a reassuring smile. “But please, tell me what’s going on…”

The Monegasque stiffens. Despite walking, you can tell. You can feel it. Also, it doesn’t take a genius to notice. “They’re not renewing Carlos’ contract for next year.”

You stop walking, making him stop too. He’s still holding onto you, rubbing small circles against cashmere. “W-why?”

“Guess.”

Your mind races. The rumors have definitely been swirling—everyone’s heard—but really? “They’re actually doing it?”

He nods.

“Lewis,” you whisper like it the first time you pronounce his name. “This is, uh…wow. I mean, wow.” 

“Yup,” he says, popping the p. “Wow, for sure.” Letting go, he takes a small step back, but still faces you with an uneasy look. “They brought it up as a possibility, but I don’t know why I never thought they’d be capable of…” He grimaces. “I can’t even begin to imagine how Carlos must be feeling.”

“Weren’t they just praising him last time during your guys’ team meeting?” You curl the cup towards your chest. “That’s fucked up.” Charles sighs, pinching the tip of his nose swiftly. Your eyes fill up with concern. “What about you?”

“I got an extension.”

You let out a breath of relief, nodding. “O-okay, okay. That’s good, Charlie, that’s really good.” When he keeps quiet, you pause all movement and blink feverishly. “Why are you upset, then?”

“I’m not,” he answers. “Only worried.” Listening closely, you silently wait for him to continue. He sighs, rubbing his eyes, suddenly tired. “It’s just that…he. He’s Lewis,” he finishes like that’s enough explanation.

You curl a brow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

A weak chuckle. “It means he’s better, and the team is going to favor him over me.” A timid shrug. “I get it, though. If anyone can bring a Championship home for the team, it’s going to be him.”

“It’s going to be you.”

“No.” The light in his eyes gave out, slowly and painfully so. “It’s not.”

Berry lips open, then close lamely, analyzing him like the world's biggest mystery. Sternly, you narrow your eyes down like knives. “World Champion?”

He flinches.

You click your tongue. “Do you realize how crazy you sound?”

“What?” he says, puzzled.

You nod. “Why are you giving up so easily, huh?”

Sharp jaw clenches. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s because he’s a former World Champion, and I’m not.” He chuckles sourly. “It’s really not that difficult to figure out. I mean, I’ve been working for it for so long now, and look at me! I’m nowhere close to being there!”

Silence. Chest heaves. You never let go of your gaze, and he has no other choice than to do the same. He’s not mad at you—not mad at anyone, really—but he’s frustrated. And yeah. Maybe he is giving up the fight, but anyone else who was in his position would too. No one wants to be the laughing stock, no one wants to be compared. 

“Listen to me Charles Leclerc, and listen to me closely because I’m only going to say this once.”

He waits.

“If it’s something you want, then it’s most likely something you can have.”

Pink lips turn upward as he tilts his head in the slightest of tilts.

Holding his face between your delicate hands, you raise your brows, shivering at the icy air. He can feel your hand vibrate against his skin as he grabs them, brings them up to his mouth, and blows hot air onto them. “I believe in you. Everybody does. Do you believe in that?”

And it takes a moment for him to answer. It takes a moment for it to register. He nods. Sure of himself.

“Only because you do.”

-

“A USB?” He frowns. “I thought you hated those?”

“I do,” you say, combing through your hair, staring at him through the reflection of the mirror. “But I feel like this makes it real. Physically turning it in, I mean. It’s dumb, but…” You check the time, shrieking and grabbing your things. “Carly is going to kill me! Okay, I’ll be back in an hour, and then we can go with your family for dinner, or I’ll meet you there, yeah?” You huff. “Red or white wine?”

“Sparkling water,” he ponders. “Maman is trying to get to ‘quit.’ Which is probably not the right way to put it because it’s not like Lorenzo, Arthur, and I are alcoholics.”

“Oh. Alright then, I’ll just get that instead.” Tippy toeing, you peck his cheek briskly, sweet perfume hitting him. “I love you.”

Adoration fills his watercolor eyes. “I love you, too.”

Who knew?

Who knew that’d be the last time you’d hear those words coming from him?

-

Entering the familiar office, you wheeze, crouching down to catch your breath before sending over a coy smile. Carly laughs, clearly amused, before signaling to the chair that sits right in front of her. “We could have done this any other day as long as it was before the deadline, you know?”

“No,” you pant, heart beat barely switching back to its regular pace. Well. Sort of. “I need to get this out of the way, I promised Charles I’d be free before his birthday. He said it was his one and only wish, could you believe that, he’s so cute, isn’t he?” She blinks. Pink dusts your cheekbones. “Anyways, here it is.”

Looking down at your extended hand, she almost lets out a snicker. “I get I’m older than you, but really? You emailing it to me would have been just as effective.”

“I didn’t want to risk it going straight into your spam folder.” That, and I don’t want to see when you actually read it because I have a funny feeling you’re going to disapprove, which is okay, fair. “Here.”

“Very well, then,” she mumbles, retrieving it. “Why don’t we proofread it together one more time before send—”

Horrified at the innocent suggestion, you leap up from your chair, pushing back. “There’s no need, I checked it about a thousand times.” She raises a sharp brow at your outburst, the defensiveness in it. You laugh nervously. “And I should get going, anyways. Pascale is cooking Cha an early birthday dinner, can’t be late.”

Placing her forearms against the table, she nods slowly, but still unsure. “I won’t hold you back any longer, then. Tell him I said happy birthday.”

Tight lips form a forced smile, uneven breaths expanding. “Of course.”

You’re expected in an hour, so when you should be up forty-five minutes early, Pascale is pleased, but a bit surprised. Hugging you hello, she opens the door wider, letting you in. “They’re out in the back. Dinner should be ready in a bit.”

“No worries. Do you need any assistance?”

She shakes her head, thin blond hair swaying. “I’ve got it all under control, chérie.”

Nodding, you put your things down and start making your way towards the sound, beers clinking. You let out a snicker. “And here you are claiming not to be an alcoholic,” you joke. Flustered, Charles turns to face your soft voice. 

“It’s my first,” he squeaks.

“Third,” both Lorenzo and Arthur shoot, greeting you with a gentle nod. 

“It barely even has any alcohol,” your boyfriend tries defending, but the crack in his voice makes everyone burst out with laughter. Blood rushes to his cheeks. “Weren’t you supposed to be with Carly?”

“I was, but we got done pretty quickly.”

“What’d she think?” he asks, tugging you onto his lap. You giggle, meanwhile Arthur gags and Lorenzo blinks unbothered. “Bet she loved it.”

“I wouldn’t know. I left before she read it.”

He cocks his head. “Seriously?”

You nod. “You said you wanted my full attention.”

“I didn’t say it like that—”

“Well, now you have it.” You kiss his nose gingerly. “Happy early birthday, Charlie.”

The Monegasque smiles deeply. “Thank you.”

“Arthur! Lorenzo! Come help and set the table!”

Arthur groans. “Why just us? What about Charles?”

Poking her head out the window, Pascale aims a stern look, making him dash up. You laugh, ideally going to stand up, but gets tugged back down onto his thigh. You roll your eyes. “I should help, too. But you stay here and relax.”

“I will, but only if you stay with me.”

“Pascale needs my help—”

“Right, but she has both of them already.” He gives your hair a gentle tug. “Stay.”

Sighing, you nod, resting your head on his shoulder as he holds you. From here, you can see the breathtaking view of Monaco’s sunset. The ocean, the trees. Filled with satisfaction in life, you kiss the side of his neck, making him squirm slightly. “Carly says happy birthday. Early. Early birthday.”

A hum. “Make sure to tell her that I said thank you, the next time you see her.”

The sound of waves crashing sings softly. He traces shapes down your leg. “When will I be able to read it?”

You’re sure you stop breathing. “S-soon. After Carly gives me the green light, at least.”

A beat. “I’m excited.”

Your stomach churns. “You are?”

“Mhm. Very. Didn’t you know I was your biggest fan?”

Fixing yourself to look at him, you open your lips, feeling how dry they’ve become. “Charles—”

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

A sore laugh. “They’re calling you.”

You reach towards your back pocket, pulling it out. Carly Freeman. Clicking it off, you shake your head. “It’s nothing.”

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

He wiggles his brows. “Doesn’t seem like it’s nothing. Answer her, it’s fine.”

“She’s going to have to wait until tomorrow,” you announce, standing up and dusting your hands off. “I’m here with you, and she's going to have to wait. Whatever it is, it can’t be more important than this.”

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. 

He sends a worried look. “Are you sure? What if it has something to do with your article? You should pick up—”

“I said I’m here with you,” you affirm. “Tomorrow. She’ll be fine.”

“Okay…” Standing to his full height, he sends a gesture towards the house. “Let's go?”

His hand reaches out, waiting for you. You smile, taking it. “Let’s go.”

-

Your phone keeps buzzing and it doesn’t let him sleep.

That, and Carly is a terrible liar.

Shifting in the bed as quietly as possible, Charles reaches for your phone, trying his best not to wake you. “Hello?” he croaks. The line stays quiet, static rolling. “I know it's you, Carly.”

“Charles! How’s my favorite driver?” 

You twist, unwrapping your leg that was draped over him. He freezes, soothing you a bit before you settle down. Climbing off the bed, he walks out, gently closing the door and heading towards the living room. “I know your favorite is Fernando, what’s up?”

She laughs nervously, cursing underneath her breath. “Is my little journalist with you?”

“She is.”

“Great! May I speak with her very quick—”

“But she’s asleep.” She groans. “Why? Is something wrong?”

“Well…”

Sitting down on the couch, he leans back, placing his feet onto the coffee table. Normally, he wouldn’t, but you weren’t here right now, and lucky for him, he wasn’t wearing any shoes. He clicks his tongue. “Does this have something to do with your guys’ meeting today?”

“Yes. And no.” More static. “Do you mind waking her up for me?”

“Um��well I do. Sorry, Carly, but she needs to get some rest, she’s been working non-stop, and—”

“No, no, I get it!” she squeals. “I totally understand. Can you let her know that I need to talk to her as soon as possible? Like—urgent. Please and thank you and have a good night!”

“Wait,” he says, furrowing his brows and pushing the phone closer to his ear. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing to worry about. Too much,” she adds. “It’s just that I need a bit of clarification, that’s all.”

“Clarification?”

“Yup. On a tiny mistake of hers. But we can fix it together, she still has time, and if she hurries then we can still meet the dea—”

“She doesn’t make mistakes, though. Ever.”

A hiss. “It’s a tiny one, Charles—”

“Okay, tell me and I’ll tell her.”

“What? I can’t. I need to speak directly with her first.”

“Carly…”

“What now?” she grits. 

“What’s the issue?” he presses harder. “I’ll let her know right now.”

The line goes quiet. For a moment, he begins to wonder if she’s hung up already, but when she clears her throat, he listens carefully, but can’t decipher her mumbles.

“She gave me the wrong USB.” That’s it? She groans. “Listen to me Charles—the USB she brought to be today only has her title written on it along with a few notes about what it’s supposed to be about. It’s the wrong one and I need the other one now.”

“Okay,” he mutters slowly, nodding. “I’m sure she’ll bring it to you once I let her know, but that’s going to have to be until tomorrow.”

She gasps. “You said you’d let her know right now!”

He winces. “I know I did, but it’s late! Trust me, though. I’ll tell her you called and I’ll even drive her myself tomorrow to drop it off. It must be around here somewhere right…” And it sure is. Sitting nicely on the coffee table, inches away from his feet. He sits up straight away, picking it up as if it were some sort of new discovery. Which in a way, it was. “Carly, why is this so important to you?”

“She’s my favorite client,” she answers without missing a beat. “I only want what’s best for her, and right now we need to fix this little mishap and get this article in as soon as possible.” A beat. “Also, maybe don’t mention the first part to Lissie, she’d totally kill me.”

Analyzing the black USB, he remains stoic, blinking only because he needs to. “Goodnight, Carly…”

“Yeah. I, um—goodnight, Charles.”

Once he hangs up, he’s quick on his feet, retrieving his laptop from the counter and sticking the drive in without a second to process what he’s doing. He shouldn’t. Probably. Definitely not. But the interest Carly clearly has was enough to poke his mind and for him to start wondering what on earth is so significant? 

And it’s so obvious now why.

Charles Lecelrc: The Man Behind the Helmet

His eyes skim fast, narrowing sharply.

Like any other human being, he struggles with depression, though fails to admit. Many sleepless nights, many fights, many canceled therapy appointments, I begin to question: does every praise his fans give him make him think he’s above all these things? The truth hurts, but it's only because it's real. And Charles Lecelrc, you are nowhere close to being as perfect as everyone makes you out to be.

His heart stops, re-reading the last sentence. He wishes for it to say anything but that, but it never changes, and it only mocks him like a school bully. 

Many assume that the death of his late-father, Hervé, and his late-godfather, Jules Bianchi, have made him stronger in a sense. That it has fed the drive in him to succeed. To be the best of the best, but what if that wasn’t true at all? Would any of you be surprised? Probably, but again, no one truly knows him the way I do. So, what feeds his determination? 

The thought of failing the same way they did. 

Anger bubbles up inside of him, grinding his molar until they crunch loudly against his temples. 

But who can blame him for having that fear inherited down onto him? Tabloids also have a part in this, and so do unwanted changes. One way or another, we can relate with the latter, but never in the way he does. Reading and hearing rumors takes a toll on Charles, that much is true, but what can we expect when his next new teammate is a seven-time World Champion. 

I guess the only question that stands in not only our minds, but also his… 

Is he strong enough to come head to head with someone as talented as Lewis Hamil—

“Wake up.”

Groggily, you rub your eyes. “Charlie, it’s dark out, come on. Come back to bed.”

“Stop calling me that, and get up.” In a single movement, he rips the blanket away and yanks you from your wrist, forcing you to sit. You gasp, his change of heart sobering you up from your sleepy daze. 

“What’s wrong with you?”

He laughs. “Me? What’s wrong with me? Are you serious right now or are you stupid?”

You flinch, taken aback. “Don’t talk to me like that, what did I do?”

“I won’t waste my breath explaining.” He drops his laptop on the bed, making you freeze as soon as you spot the familiar USB. “I'll let you re-read it.” 

“Where did you get this from?”

“Really? That’s what’s important to you?” He rolls his jaw, rubbing it until his skin turns a light shade of red. “If you don’t want me finding it, then next time don’t leave it out.”

Your lips go dry, crawling to the edge of the bed, but as soon as you’re about to reach out for him, he grimaces, shaking his head and taking three steps back. “Charlie—”

“No,” he hisses, glaring at you with utter hatred. The sight alone makes your eyes well up. “You don’t get to call me that. You don’t get to call me that ever again.” A cry rings through the air as you cover your hands over your face. “A-am I supposed to be impressed by what I read or what?”

“It’s no—”

“Did I do something to upset you or w-why were you talking about me like that?” he questions, genuine confusion taking over as he furrows his brows until they cause his eyes to pinch up too. 

Sniffling, you get up quickly, shaking your head adamantly until you get dizzy. “It wasn’t supposed to come off across that way! Are you kidding me?” Grabbing your heart, you soften your eyes. “I’m your biggest supporter.”

“Yeah? Well, that,” he snarls, pointing at the open screen like it's the most disturbing thing. “That doesn’t make sense with what you’re saying…” A beat. “Why would you do this to me?”

“Do what, though?” you whimper. “Everything I wrote about you is based on what you told me!”

“Exactly!” he shouts back, making the distance between you smaller, making you shrink. “I told you! Just you! I never once asked you to air out my business, and quite frankly, I thought that was common sense.” He lets out a dry chuckle. “You called me crazy and troublesome among other things. Are you my girlfriend or wolves in sheep's clothing? I’m trying to understand your logic here.”

You push your hair back, breathing hard. “You can’t just say that, there’s context behind that, come on…”

“Oh. Okay. My bad. I’m crazy because I talk to my father’s tombstone and Jules’. It's troublesome because I used to do cocaine in order to de-stress. I’m in over my head because I actually think I stand a chance against Lewis—a chance you convinced me I had!”

“That’s not what I meant!” you squeak. “You’re taking it all wrong, Charles, I would never say that about you!”

“But you did,” he states firmly. “And you know? If I’m so unready to face a friendly competition against my future teammate, then maybe I’m unready to face a lot of other things, too.” You freeze, dreading his next words as you plead him silently not to say them. “Maybe I’m not as ready to settle down with you as much as I thought I was…”

That does it. That seems to cut the little oxygen you had, off. Stumbling back, you feel the tears start to form again. “You don’t mean that…” You smile weakly. “You’re just a tiny bit upset right now, okay, fine. That’s fine. But you don’t mean any of that.”

Glaring until it hurts, he maintains eye contact. “Don’t tell me what I’m feeling, you don’t get to do that!”

You flinch. “I’m sorry.” A droplet slides down. “I’m sorry, okay?” More follows. “For all of it. For all of this. If I could take it all back, I would, you have to believe me, Charles, you know I would.”

His gaze lingers for a while longer, taking in your rosy nose. Your swollen eyes. Your wet cheeks. Everything that's supposed to make him feel better, but it doesn’t. “I really did trust you…” You breath hitches. “And I really did want you to win…” Pause. “And I still do.”

Strolling over, he disconnects the USB, making the screen go completely black, and hands it to you. Blinking down, you shake your head, too embarrassed to even look at it. “I don’t want it.”

“Yeah, well I don’t want it either…” Forcing your palm open, he places it down, instantly making your skin burn. “Journalist of the Year.”

You let out a wet sob, shoulders shaking. You don’t know exactly what you’re feeling, but what you do know is that this doesn’t feel good and that your heart breaks with every passing second.

Never in a million years did you think you would experience any of this, especially with Charles. The Monegasque cocks his head, curls following. “I’m glad you’re about to get everything you’ve ever wanted, I really am.” He chuckles softly, eyeing you intently. “I just can’t help but wonder what that must feel like.”

“I was going to tell you,” you whisper meekly. “And you were supposed to understand where I was coming from.”

And if any anger was gone, well fuck that, it all came right back.

“Understand where you were coming from?” he spits out, shocked by your choice of words. “You really thought I would understand? I planned my entire future around you, and this is how you repay me? You went behind my back to write an article I didn’t even know about! We made a choice years ago!”

“No, you did!” you retort, despair rising hard and fast. “You came up with that decision all by yourself, Charles, I never agreed!” You look down. “Not entirely.”

“Huh,” he scoffs, squinting his eyes. “I was simply looking out for the girl that I love given that the internet is a scary place and she probably wouldn’t have been able to handle it, for God sakes, I guess this is my fault now, isn’t it?”

“I would have been able to handle it, but you never gave me the chance!”

“Yeah, because reporting on a driver and driver who's your boyfriend are two completely different things that you can’t seem to comprehend!”

Trembling, you blink carefully, gulping. “I would have done just fine.”

“You think so?” he challenges, a sour smile forming. You nod. “Okay. Sure. Why not?” Closing the final distance between you two, your breath gets stuck as he sends a dirty glare, one that's meant to sting. “You’re not talented. You only have your position because of your dating status, when in reality, your work is utter shit. Everything is handed to you.”

There’s a mix of a whimper and a plea that comes out of you as you screw your eyes shut. “You’re being mean, Charles…”

He laughs, clapping his hands once with amusement. “That’s what the internet is! Maybe I was right, then—you can’t handle it.”

“I could…” you murmur, but it's no use. 

The brunette catches himself wanting to comfort you. To apologize for everything. But then he figures—why? It’s not like he truly did something wrong. 

“You’re the greatest disappointment of my life.”

Something ended the moment those words left his mouth—you both knew it. Sobbing hard, your shoulders vibrate violently as you seemingly gasp for air. He looks away. 

“You know, our life could have been so good. So fucking good. But you went and ruined it.” Green eyes flicker back. “Why would you do this to us?”

“I never meant to hurt you,” you declare with wet lashes. 

“You did a bit more than that,” he replies, wincing, blinking rapidly. He smiles. “If you wanted to write your article on me, you should’ve asked me. You should have talked to me. But no. And the thing is, I would have let you! God. I would have let you write whatever you wanted—but not like this. You stole an interview from me with no right, honey…”

Quickly, you flicker your gaze up at him, hoping to see any trace of  love in that one word, but you’re not surprised when you don’t find any, deflating furthermore. He shrugs. Like what you did to him was no big deal. 

“You took it from me. But I would have given it to you.”

-

“Are you sure you want to do this? You can always change your mind, babe, it’s totally fine!”

“No.” You fix your hair, posture straight. You smile. “I need to.”

Lissie shares a slow nod, nibbling on her bottom lip before handing you her keynotes. “Alright. Good luck.”

The idea first sparked when the Brit girl mentioned how she was the only one granted permission to interview Charles at this year's FIA prize giving ceremony. You had debated back and forth with what seemed like forever, both Carly and Lissie trying to talk you out of it, but you pleaded until they reluctantly agreed. 

You haven’t seen him ever since that day.

It’s insane to think about, sometimes. You knew each other for two years, dated for three, and haven’t crossed paths for another two. And now, you’re here. He’d been upfront that day, didn’t even flinch with his one and only birthday wish, meanwhile you felt the last stab hurt more than anything.

I wish to never see you again. 

Not long after, he grabbed his things and left. But not before turning around, sending you one last glance, dull, empty, and nothing like him anymore. You still recall.

Turn it in, he said, smiling warmly despite his better judgment. Despite not meaning it. Don’t let this all be for nothing.

Shaking your hands, you grin, fixing your silk dress. The Brit girl stares worriedly, but as soon as you wink, she hides it. Not that well, but enough. “He’s going to be so mad at me,” she jokes, but it’s probably true. He has a soft spot for her, and he only gave permission to her. No one else. 

You wince, grabbing her hands delicately. “I really appreciate this, Lissie. More than you’ll ever know.”

Waving goodbye, you make your way to the private conference hall. It’s daunting, actually, the sight of the large table where he’ll be sitting and the small chair where you will. Quite the narrative. His picture is hung in almost every corner, from the beginning of his career to now. The latest one makes you smile as he lifts the trophy high up with a beaming grin, dimples poking out and eyes crinkled just the way you remember. 

You thought about apologizing again. Better this time. Once things simmered down. You really wanted to, but as soon as Carly informed you that the article would need to be published in order for fans to engage with your content and for them to decide on a winner, you knew the gist of him accepting your apology was most likely never going to happen. 

And you contemplated not posting it. Carly did too. Lissie did too. No one thought it was a good idea, but you still did it. Like he said—you couldn’t let all that be for nothing.

The hate came immediately, you expected nothing less. In their minds, you were a loyal girlfriend, but after reading your work, the comments came rolling in. You were honestly quite grateful because you know you deserved every last bit of it. 

But somehow—somehow—you won Journalist of the Year. 

You were shocked to say the least—bewildered. And you could see it in Lissie and Carly’s eyes too. So, while accepting the award with a forced smile, it hit you like a truck.

Did you truly earn this or was it all thanks to him?

Either way, does it matter anymore?

The door gently opens as he steps in, a loopy smile stretched onto his lips before coming to a complete stop. With your heart in your throat, you cough awkwardly, standing up and waving. You cringe, putting your hand down as soon as he furrows his brows, looking around. 

“S-she’s not here,” you say, voice cracking. You blush. “You’re looking for Lissie, right?” Utter silence. He blinks, unresponsive and as stiff as a tree. You lick your lips. “I-I-I can leave if you want.” But you really hope he doesn’t want you to.

The Monegasque’s features strike with something familiar—something you knew not long ago. Then…

He smiles at you. 

“It’s alright.” Carefully, he makes his way closer, scooting his chair right next to yours as you blink, sitting back down and staring with your plump lips slightly open. He cocks his head. “Y-you look the same.”

You giggle. “Is that supposed to be a good thing?” When he fails to answer, you bite down on your lip hesitantly. “You haven’t changed much, either.” 

He clears his throat, averting his gaze. “I don’t mean to sound rude or anything, but why are you here and where is Lissie?”

You flinch. Okay. This was expected. You practiced hours for this very moment. “Don’t be mad at her, okay, I asked her to let me do this. I wanted to…see you, Charles.” The sound of his name leaving your lips makes his heart stop because it's been so long since he’s heard it. Too long. A subtle blush. “I’m here to apologize.”

“Ah,” he winces, scrunching his nose. “Don’t. We’re cool.”

“Are we, though?”

He stiffens. 

Exhaling, you place your things down, pursing your lips. He watches the way your knee bounces up and down. How you play with your ring before covering it neatly with the opposite hand. That catches him completely off guard as he blinks rapidly, thinking he must be mistaken. 

“I know I don’t deserve any of this,” you say nervously. “By all means, I should have been kicked out five minutes ago, but you…” Round eyes soften, lashes batting slowly. “You’ve always been a kind and generous human being, Charles.”

“Stop,” he whispers. You frown. “Saying my name, I mean. You can talk—we can talk, but please, just. Don’t say it.”

“O-okay,” you mumble, stomach churning. “I won’t.”

He lets out a tight smile, tilting his head. Years ago, his hair was a tad bit longer, fluffier even. Now, it’s still the same, but somehow more mature. His eyes are still young and naive, but with a hint of wisdom. He usually would wear mismatching suits, but now it matches. A lot of him has changed, and you weren’t there to witness it.

“Congrats, by the way,” you add happily. “World Champion, eh?”

Pink spreads across his cheeks, slowly but surely. “Thanks. I was close to losing my mind.”

You laugh. “Seven years later, but it’s well deserved. I’m so proud of you.”

And for a moment, he goes completely numb. He’s heard plenty of kudos ever since winning his first title—and they were nice, they made him feel nice—but this. You? It’s the first time it makes him feel accomplished. And that feels more than nice.

Playing with his bracelet, he nods sheepishly. “How have you—how, um…God. I, um, how have you been?”

“Oh.” You let out a genuine smile. Soft. Angelic. And everything he wishes to find in any other girl that isn’t you. It’s not something he should notice. “I’ve been well.” You raise your hand. “Engaged.”

“You sure are,” he mumbles, finally acknowledging the silver band before flashing an easy smile of his own. And maybe it was real, or maybe it wasn’t, but he wasn’t as upset as he thought he’d be. Just a tiny bit bothered, is all. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

You lick your lips awkwardly. “You remember Carly’s son?”

A tide hits him as he internally screams. “Grayson, right?”

You nod. “She, uh, set us up a while ago and we hit it off.” You wince. “I’m sorry, is that weird?”

“No. Of course not,” he replies, shrugging. “You’re allowed to build your life with whomever you want. What happened between us was…” He chuckles. “So long ago. I’m happy for you both, I really am.”

And he means it this time.

Admiring the oval-shaped ring, you swoon as if you’re thinking of the exact moment he proposed to you, and that’s the prettiest sight Charles thinks he might ever see. Even if it didn’t end up being him. Once you look back up, he looks away, feigning interest in anything else stupidly.

“Yourself?”

“Myself?”

A playful eye roll. “Are you seeing anyone?”

A retch. “Ha ha, no! No, that’s not—that’s not for me.” You frown. He winces. “Please don’t be offended, but after you, I sort of lost interest in meeting other people. Pierre calls it trauma, I call it precaution.” A sore laugh. “B-but maybe one day. Never say never, am I right?”

The lights reflect directly towards you, so that lets him see the rosy blotches beginning to hug your cheekbones as your lips wobble. He panics. “N-no! Fuck. I didn’t mean to—”

“I ruined your life,” you wail, throwing your hands over your face. “Oh my God, I wrecked it!”

“You didn’t!” he tries. “I’ve gone on a couple of dates, here and there!”

You’re tiny cries take a quick pause. Sniffling, you shoot him a look, shiny eyes beaming back at him. “You have?”

“Yeah,” he whispers, slowly relaxing against his seat. “Sort of. Kind of.” A horrified expression maps out against your face. He grimaces. “I-It’s just not my thing!”

“I’m sorry, Ch—” You pause, rethinking your words. “I’m sorry.”

The Monegasque shrugs, hoping that’d be enough for you to drop the topic. “It’s okay, really. It’s a decision I made long ago, and I’d like to keep it like that for a while, at least.” You bite down on your bottom lip, nodding halfheartedly. “But please, um, tell me, how far along are you? Heard from Lissie that it’s a boy.”

You let out a wet giggle, wiping your tears away to the best of your ability. “Nineteen weeks. I’m in my second trimester.” Gingerly, you rub your tiny belly before your eyes light up. “Give me your hand!”

“What?”

Leaning in, you grab his large hand and place it down on your stomach, looking up at him to watch his reaction. At first, he’s weirded out, you can tell. He makes a silly face he probably doesn’t realize he’s making, but seconds later his features soften. His green eyes go round, no tension behind them. His brows lay flat, then knit together in amazement. He laughs, rubbing his thumb gently.

“Does it hurt?” he whispers. “When he kicks?”

You hum. “Sometimes it can. But I suppose it’s more discomfort than anything.” You wiggle your eyebrows. “Cool?”

He nods rapidly. “Super cool.”

Pulling away, he can feel his adrenaline as high as a kite, and as fast as his car. He feels different, he notes, as if something has finally shifted inside of him. With this, he takes time to admire you in a way he hasn’t been able to ever since.

Your hair is cut into layers now, glossy and shorter than he remembers. Your lips, round, plump and berry tinted. Your eyes, doe, innocent, and pure in a way he can’t seem to wrap his head around. Smile, even, wobbly, and everything in between.

Your gaze flickers. “Question…”

“Answer,” he replies, studying your body language. 

It’s harder than you had initially thought it would be, asking him what you’d been wondering for these past two years. Was it all that bad? The answer might be yes. Yes, it was. To him, perhaps. But it tugs your tongue, and it burns a bit, but you push through, focusing on him and his watercolor eyes.

“Do you—”

But he still knows you. He can still read you. Before you, it’s always him who understands your train of thought. 

He shakes his head, dimples imprinting like a finger in sand. “No regrets.” 

A peach seed forms as you let out a sheepish laugh. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes in life,” you admit, cringing slightly. “Just yesterday, I bought the wrong plane ticket. Got stuck in the airport for three extra hours.” He chuckles. “Totally unnecessary.”

“It happens,” he comforts you, clicking his tongue. 

“I guess so,” you say, sighing. “But betraying someone you love? Yeah. That’s got to be the worst mistake of my life.”

He flinches, an old wound suddenly opening. “Hey, you—”

You raise your hand, pleading with him. “Let me just…” So, he forces himself to sit there quietly, to not intrude no matter how much he really wants to. It’s fine, he wants to say, I’m fine now, we’re fine now, seriously.

A wince. “Do you know how guilty I feel whenever Grayson polishes my award?” A scoff. “He means no harm with his actions, but it makes me feel like shit everytime I walk past it. I’ve begged him to put it away somewhere in the attic, but he’s as proud as can be. Say’s an accomplishment like that deserves to be shown off. That it’s proof of all my hard work.” You smile. “Much like you and your trophy.”

You exhale. “You were right, though.” A hum. “I don’t deserve it.”

“I never said that.”

“Sure,” you give in quietly. “But you did say that if I won, I’d always wonder if I was truly respected for my work or if I was respected because of you.”

He bites his tongue. 

You shrug lamely. “And that’s just something I’m going to have to live with for the rest of my life…” Steadily, you ease your eyes back towards him as you find him already staring at you, listening close and curious. “And I want you to know that I’m fine with that.” A beat. “What I’m not fine with is you being mad at me for the rest of your life.”

Charles opens his mouth, feeling his tongue as dry as the desert and his throat as dusty as the highest mountain. “I’m not mad at you…anymore.” He sits up straighter. “I said a lot of things to you that night that I shouldn’t have said, but you have to understand that you hurt me a thousand times worse.” 

Tears well up your eyes as you nod shamefully. He continues despite feeling the need to reach out for you. “I just wanted you to feel what I was feeling, even if that meant—well. You know. And, um…I tried to forget all of that, but I, too, felt guilty, so—I’m glad you’re here. That way I can say…I’m sorry.”

“No!” you wail, raising your arms up. “No, I’m sorry! I broke your trust, and I was a God awful girlfriend.”

“You did,” he chuckles before scrunching his nose in deep thought. “But you were also the best I’ll ever have.”

A wet sob escapes.

“I forgive you.”

“S-shit,” you let out. “You don’t know how g-good it feels to finally hear you say that.”

A gentle smile. “You?”

You giggle, standing up. “I have nothing to forgive you for, but yeah. Okay. I forgive you, as well.” You open your arms for a hug. He blinks. “It’ll make me feel better.”

Tsk. “You used to do this all the time wherever we fought,” he says, a hint of sadness wavering in his eyes before disappearing into thin air. Extending to his full height, he towers over you before going in to close the distance. He halts, coughing awkwardly.

You snicker, eyes crinkling with amusement. “Right. You're hugging two of us now.”

A wave of jealousy pangs his chest for a second. You’ve moved on, and he’s stuck in the year you were still in his life. Still his. He envies Grayson in every sense there exists, but he swallows down that pill because he’d always been a nice bloke the very few times he interacted with him. He needs to move on, too. 

Even if it takes him his whole life to figure out how. 

“The more the merrier.”

Your face has gone completely numb by now from how hard you're grinning from ear to ear. Wrapping your arms around his waist as he goes over your shoulders, you sigh contently as you catch the whiff of his cologne. His heartbeat quickened at the smell of your perfume. 

“Question,” he whispered. You chuckle against his chest. Answer. He gulps, nose twitching. “Would it make me a bad person to say that you’re probably the only girl I’ll ever love?” Silence. He screws his eyes shut, gritting his teeth. Why the fuck would he ever say that—

“I’d only say that I don’t deserve to be her,” you respond. “Anyone but me.”

A flinch. “O-of course. You’re getting married, you’re having a baby, what was I th—”

“Honey…”

He freezes. 

You lean back, holding his face between your hands and smiling. “It’s not your name…”

His voice catches. “It’s not…”

A deeper smile. Nostalgic. “A piece of me will always love you.” A pause. “You know me so well. Better than anyone. You’ve seen me naked. You’ve dressed me. You’ve seen me with makeup. You’ve seen me without. And…well—you’ve seen my good side. But you’re also the only one who's seen my bad.”

His palms quickly get sweaty as he tries his best to not do anything he might regret. And not because he’ll wish to take it back, but because you would. Neat brows draw in together as you graze his stubble with your thumb. As nurturing as a mother, which he supposes you already are. 

“I’d say that makes us pretty close, no?”

“Not as close as I’d like to be.” 

“You’ll find someone.” A beat. “Someone who’ll love you right.”

“You didn’t?” he questions before he can stop himself. “Sorry—”

“My love for you was honest. But I blew it.”

I’m still here, he wants to yell out. If you still want me like I want you, then I’m still here.

But he refrains from doing so.

“You’ve never done me wrong,” he attempts, kissing your palm gingerly before softening his gaze. You send a playful glare. “Except for that one time.” You snort. “But I don’t want to talk about it anymore because—because it doesn’t matter anymore…”

Maybe it's the hormones, you sort of wish it was, but you know it’s due to his gentleness. You don’t deserve his sympathy, you don’t deserve even a fraction of it. Crying, you kiss his cheek, hoping everything you feel transfers itself into the warmth of his skin. And you don’t know, but it does just that.

Closing his eyes, he prays to dream about this kiss forever. Have nightmares, who even cares. As long as he doesn’t forget. 

You step away carefully, taking him in as his eyes flutter. 

“Charles Leclerc, first time World Champion…”

He smiles. You smile. 

His dimples pop out. Your eyes crinkle.

He loves you. You love him.

And maybe it didn’t work out in this life.

But maybe in the next.

“May I have an interview with you?”

taglist: @blueflorals @starmanv @coolio2195 @lovrsm @weekendlusting@chanshintien @brune77e @myownwritings @timmychalametsstuff @milasexutoire@alesainz @c-losur3 @darleneslane @togazzo @urfavnoirette @namgification @lpab @d3kstar @anniee-mr @nebarious @notkaryna @emmaxdelicate

[punkshort]

In Another Life | Part III

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x f!reader (time travel au)

Chapter Summary: It's your last day together with Marcus and you're going to make it count.

Chapter Warnings: language, SO much angst, fluff, smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected piv sex, food consumption, time travel?

WC: 6.3K

A/N: thank you @txtattoostark for beta'ing ❤️

Series Masterlist

Time stood still when you looked at your phone the following morning, you were certain of it.

The mighty General shall be out of your hair b4 you know it.

The words left a pit in your stomach, making you feel sick. How didn't you think this through? What happened between you was fast, sure, but not one time the night before did you pause to think how hurt you were going to be when Marcus left.

It wasn't like he was going to a different state or country. He would be gone for good. Never again would you know the feel of his lips or hear the deep rumble of his voice.

"Good morning," Marcus said from behind you, slipping his arms around your waist while you cooked eggs for breakfast. You flipped your phone over and turned around in his arms, pressing a firm kiss to his lips that lingered to the point where the eggs burned a little, but it was worth it.

You hadn't checked your phone until he went to the bathroom to wash up and you had breakfast underway, but you had already decided not to tell him. If you didn't speak it into existence, then maybe it wasn't real.

"Good morning," you said shyly, giving him one last quick peck on the lips before scooping eggs and sausage onto plates for you both.

"Was your superior quite angry with you?" he asked while he attempted to help you with the toast but ended up burning his fingertips.

You shook your head and picked up both plates to take to your small kitchen table.

"Nah, I never call in sick," you told him with a smile. "Besides the park, what did you want to see today?"

He settled next to you at the table, one hand dropping casually to rest on your leg while he picked up his fork with the other. "To me it does not matter, so long as it is with you."

You grinned and felt your cheeks warm. "You know, you said you didn't have much experience with romance in your life but you could have fooled me. Every word you say is romantic."

He chuckled and dropped his gaze to his plate, feeling a bit shy. "Does simply wishing to spend time with a lover make one a romantic?"

You shrugged and nodded. "Kind of. At least, in my experience."

Marcus hummed and leaned over to press a kiss against your temple. "We must change that, my lady."

"Oh, yeah?" you replied, turning to lock your lips with his. His grip on your thigh tightened when he heard the little noise escape from the back of your throat and you squirmed in your seat. "Well, you've changed a lot, already," you said breathlessly when you finally pulled away. He grinned and leaned forward to chase your lips, making you giggle and toss your arms around his neck.

Before you even had a chance to register the noise, the front door unlocked and swung open.

"Morning! Why are you still - oh, gross," Danny said when he turned from closing the door and saw the two of you intertwined.

Marcus withdrew his arms from around you and stood solemnly with his hands clasped in front of him.

"Daniel, I apologize," he said, his voice deep. "Courtesy demands I request permission from a lady's father, or in this case, closest living male relative, before pursuing her. I hope you can forgive me for my transgression." Marcus bowed his head and you quickly stood up, waving your hands in between them.

"No, no, no, you do not need my little brother's permission, Marcus," you told him. Danny folded his arms together and stifled a laugh.

"I don't know, Sis, I think he's onto something. Maybe if more guys went through me, you wouldn't be left on read so much."

"Shut up, Danny!" you seethed, fists clenched at your sides.

Marcus just looked back and forth between you, trying to keep up.

"I'm just kidding! Marcus, it's totally fine," Danny said, clapping him on the shoulder before slipping into the kitchen for your leftovers. "If you really want to spend your last day in the twentieth century with my sister, don't let me stop you. I mean, personally, I would have picked the girl who works at the Java Hut, or maybe the one at the comic book store..."

Both of you tuned him out when Marcus absorbed what he said.

"My... last day?" he questioned. You swallowed and nodded.

"He texted me last night but I didn't see it til you were in the shower," you said quietly, gaze dropping to the floor. "I'm sorry. I didn't know how to tell you."

"Oh," he said softly, eyebrows pinching together in thought. And just like that, the fun, playful mood between the two of you vanished only to be replaced with despair.

"We can still do exactly what we said we would do," you assured him while Danny kept talking to himself in the kitchen, adding to the long list of people he would rather spend his last day with other than you.

"Of course," Marcus replied, but you could see the distant look in his eye. It was probably the same one you had when you first read Danny's text.

"Let's just... enjoy what time we have left."

He nodded and inhaled sharply, avoiding your eye while he processed everything he had just learned, both of you too nervous to say what you really wanted to say.

"Why aren't you working?" Danny asked, emerging from the kitchen with a piece of buttered toast.

"I called in sick."

He nodded, not even questioning it before heading to his room. "I'm gonna get some shut eye and head back over to Lizard's later. Gotta run a few diagnostic tests before we send you home, General."

His words were like taking a bullet. Appetite suddenly gone, you sunk down into your chair and tried not to let your emotions show but he must have sensed it because Marcus was sitting down next to you with one arm around your shoulders and the other on your thigh.

"We still have today, cor mea."

You sniffled and leaned into his shoulder, hiding your face against his neck. "You said that yesterday, too. What does it mean?"

You felt his lips on the top of your head before he answered.

"It means, my heart."

Tears stung your eyes so you quickly closed them, doing your very best to remember everything about that moment. The way he smelled, all fresh from his shower, the roughness of his hand against your skin, the sound of his heart beating soundly in his broad chest.

Don't go, you wanted to beg. Please stay with me. But you couldn't bring yourself to do it. Was it ridiculous to want a man you just met to leave everything behind and stay with you? In a world he knew nothing about? Even if you did ask and by some miracle he agreed, would you be able to make him happy? Would this world make him happy?

No, you couldn't ask that of him. He had a whole life waiting for him in Ancient Rome.

You took a deep breath and reluctantly extracted yourself from his arms.

"Okay," you said, quickly swiping at your eye. "Let's go check out the park and once we're done, we'll see what else you want to do."

He nodded, helping you clean up from breakfast while pretending not to notice how red your eyes looked, but by the time you were both ready to leave your apartment, you had collected yourself. You refused to spend your last day together wallowing in misery.

You were going to make sure it was perfect.

"This place is magnificent," Marcus said breathlessly, unable to tear his eyes away from the rich greenery surrounding you while dodging tourists laughing and posing for pictures. Nearby, bicyclists and joggers zipped by and dogs barked, pulling at their leashes to get at one another while their owners struggled to rein them in but as far as the two of you were concerned, you were the only ones there.

"C'mon, this way," you said, looping your arm with his and leading him off a different path. The smile was permanently stretched across his face the entire time, especially when you had to come to an unexpected stop so a carriage led by a massive Clydesdale could pass by on the trail.

"That horse looks double the size of the horses back home," he remarked in awe when you resumed walking.

"There's all sorts of different breeds," you explained, "we'll probably see a few more before we leave."

You could hear water trickling and you grinned when you looked up at him. "Almost there."

When you finally emerged from your shaded trail to view the massive fountain, Marcus couldn't believe his eyes. He skid to a stop and just stared in wonder at the shallow water surrounded by people eating lunch, families taking pictures, couples sitting close together and children running and playing. Slowly, his gaze drifted around the wide open space, taking in every feature, every flower, every stunning piece of architecture until you finally tugged on his elbow.

"It's called the Bethesda Fountain," you said, pointing to the statue in the middle. "It's an angel, see?"

He nodded, eyes wide with wonder. "She is... beautiful," he whispered, looking like he was in complete awe of the stone statue of the angel draped in long robes with widespread wings behind her, looking over the entire park.

"I think she's holding her arm out as a symbol to bless the waters," you told him, pulling him closer so you could read some of the signage.

"This place is wonderful," he told you, twisting around so he didn't miss a thing. "I cannot believe a place like this exists in such a busy and thriving metropolis."

"Yeah, it is really amazing, isn't it?" you replied. You had lived in New York for so long that you realized you had grown numb to some of its wonder, but seeing it through Marcus's eyes felt like you were seeing it for the first time again.

"You are fortunate to live here," he said, finally looking down at you. "I have never seen a place so grand and spectacular in all my life."

You grinned and stretched up on your tiptoes to give him a kiss. "Looks a lot better with you here," you said with a wink, and you swore you saw his face flush a bit.

The pair of you found an empty bench and sat down for a while. You leaned your head on his shoulder and he hooked an arm around you as you quietly watched the city pass you by.

"Thank you for sharing this with me," he murmured as he nuzzled the top of your head. You titled your face up to give him a smile.

"I think this is the most fun I've ever had in this city."

He grinned, his eyes crinkling and his one cheek creating a dimple that you found too irresistible not to kiss, so you did.

"Would you like to just spend the day here or do you want to see something else?"

He looked around the park again with a deep sigh and you could feel his body relax against you. "I am content to do anything, so long as it is with you."

You thought about it for a moment before pulling out your phone and tapping away.

"There's a museum not too far from there that has an exhibition on Ancient Rome," you said. His interest was piqued and he squinted down at your phone. "Would you be interested in that? You could teach me something," you told him with a poke to his ribs. He chuckled and shrugged.

"I fear you are too brilliant for me to teach you anything, but I am intrigued."

You giggled and stood up, hauling him to his feet as you began to lead him back the way you came.

"We can grab something quick to eat along the way."

Marcus was very quiet the first ten minutes inside the museum. He silently read the informative plaques on the walls next to replicas of gladiator helmets and broken spears with his hands clasped behind his back and his expression unreadable. He studied maps and watched a video of a historian talking about the rise of the Roman Empire playing on a loop, and all the while you followed him from room to room, reading what he read and trying to see things through his eyes.

He had a proud smile on his face when you came to a room about the technological advancements of the Roman Empire and how it impacted present day. He had just finished reading about the ways Rome impacted the design of modern day roads and bridges when he saw the next display and his smile faltered.

"What is it?" you asked him softly. His eyes flickered back and forth between a photograph of the Colosseum and an NFL stadium with a little blurb underneath comparing the two.

"You still have..." he drifted off and pointed to the stadium. "Your people still fight to the death?"

Your eyes widened and you shook your head furiously, immediately picking up on the tension in his voice.

"Oh, no. No, Marcus. They don't fight, it's a sport. Nobody dies. The stadiums are just built to look like the Colosseum."

He nodded in understanding but you saw the look on his face. Something troubled him and it made your chest ache. You glanced around the room, noticing it was mostly empty, then stepped forward so you stood between him and the display. You wrapped your arms around his middle and rested your chin on his chest, drawing his attention down to you and off the photos.

"What is it?"

He gave you a sad smile and his arms circled your waist.

"There is something I have not told you."

Once again, your eyes flickered around to make sure nobody was close enough to hear before looking back up at him expectantly.

"Daniel and Victor found me because I was fleeing Rome," he said solemnly, and already you could see the shame in his face.

"Why were you fleeing?"

He pressed his lips together tightly before sighing. "I displeased the emperor. I refused to carry out his orders. Orders that would kill thousands of young men simply to make a statement. I could not do it, my love." His hands grew tighter around your middle and you swore you saw tears begin to form but he blinked them away. "As punishment, I was sentenced to become a gladiator. To fight for my life and their entertainment in the arena. So... I fled. I was a coward and I fled."

"You weren't a coward," you whispered, bringing a hand up to stroke his bearded cheek. "You would have died, Marcus. That's not cowardly."

"It was cowardly to not die an honorable death," he argued, but you shook your head.

"It's barbaric and wasteful," you told him. You felt him lean into your touch for comfort. "I'm glad you ran away. If you didn't, I never would have met you."

He couldn't resist. Marcus leaned down and captured your mouth with his, committing the feel of your lips to memory before he had to return home and face his destiny.

"C'mon," you said, stepping away from him and taking his hand in yours with a little smile. "Let's keep looking around."

He didn't let go of your hand after that. You walked together through the rest of the room, reading to yourselves about the architecture of Ancient Rome and how the buildings influenced the White House and the Lincoln Memorial when he stopped dead in his tracks and gawked at the very last photo.

"Is this..." he trailed off, reading the caption before looking at you in shock. "The arena still stands? This image looks to be present day." He pointed to the people standing around the outside of the Colosseum, specifically their clothes and how they looked similar to yours, and you nodded.

"Yeah, it's still there," you told him, wrapping a hand around his bicep as he continued to stare at the picture. "I'm sure it looks different and some of it collapsed with time but it's been maintained and well cared for. It's one of the seven wonders of the world."

He looked at you curiously and you smiled. "It's kind of a big deal," you explained simply.

His fingertips dragged over the glass like he couldn't believe his eyes.

"May we see it before I leave?"

Your face fell and sadness swelled deep in your chest. "No, Marcus, I'm sorry. It's too far away."

He nodded, catching the regret in your eye before dropping the subject and moving on. He would see it soon enough, anyway.

It seemed both of you were determined to keep the rest of your museum visit as light as possible. When you reached the area about art, he told you a story of an artist who created a beautiful portrait of him and presented it to him after winning a huge battle for Rome. With a smile, he told you how pompous he felt when he had it hung in his living space at home but he felt bad not honoring the artist's hard work.

When he excused himself to use the restroom, you sat on a bench and did something you refrained from doing since the moment you met.

You Googled his name.

The cell service was spotty and it took an extra minute, but sure enough his name pulled up some results. You picked the first one, quickly scanning down his multiple military accomplishments until you reached the end. You held your breath as you read the small paragraph, fearful of what you would find out but it was a question that had been plaguing your mind for the past two days and you needed to know.

General Marcus Acacius presumably died in 215 A.D. It was believed he met his demise in battle, however his body was never recovered.

Glancing up to make sure Marcus was still in the bathroom, you shot off a quick text to Danny.

You: What year did you set that time machine when you picked up Marcus?

You chewed on the inside of your cheek as you watched your text slowly go from delivered to read, then three little dots appeared.

Danny: 215 A.D.

You closed your eyes and sniffled before tucking your phone into your pocket.

How could you go through with this now that you knew you were sending him back to certain death?

You did your damndest to not let it bother you, but it was hard. Every time you looked at him you wondered what fate had in store when he returned and the pit in your stomach just got heavier and heavier.

You arrived home to a note from Danny reminding you he had to run diagnostic tests on the machine and he wouldn't be home until late, so you both decided to stay in for dinner on your last night together. Cooking wasn't your strongest skill but you could make a decent pasta. Marcus lingered and tried to help but it was evident he was used to others cooking for him, and that was okay. You didn't mind.

When you each sat down to eat, his left hand falling easily to your leg again as he picked up his fork, you had to bite your tongue from screaming stay, please stay. By the way he was glancing in your direction throughout the meal, you had a feeling he wanted to say something, too, but either didn't know how or was too afraid to pop the bubble you had found yourselves in.

After you ate, Marcus made a move to wash the dishes but you quickly stopped him. The time you had left now was too precious to waste on things like that. You didn't say that, of course, but instead you wrapped his arm around you so you could burrow into his chest. Neither of you said a word. You didn't need to. You could both feel each minute ticking away, bringing you closer and closer to morning. You closed your watery eyes and pressed your ear against his chest, listening to the steady thump, thump, thump of his heart, wishing you could somehow bottle it so you could listen to it when he was long gone and you were all alone.

You wished you knew what to say to make it easier, but you couldn't think of a single thing. You tried to put into words how he made you feel without sounding like a complete psychopath, but you came up empty. So you continued to stand quietly in your kitchen, holding one another close, breathing each other in and trying to savor every single second you had together.

He whispered your name so you forced your eyes open and looked up. His eyes were also shiny with unshed tears and that was all it took for your face to crumple and tears to flow freely down your cheeks. He quickly cupped the back of your head and feverishly pressed his lips against yours as his own tears began to fall. How would you be able to get up and make breakfast in that kitchen without thinking of him? How would you be able to ever wash your sheets for fear of losing his scent? Christ, how on earth would you be able to write that month's article without being institutionalized?

"Marcus," you sobbed before locking your lips together again. It was the desperation in your voice that made him bend his knees, grab the backs of your thighs and wrap your legs around his middle so he could walk you both to your bedroom without breaking the kiss.

With all the care in the world, he delicately removed your clothes until your naked bodies were tangled together in bed, hands roaming over each other's skin as if you were trying to draw a map.

"Do not cry, my sweet girl," he whispered while hooking one of your legs over his forearm. He tipped his head down for just a moment so he could line himself up with your center before focusing back on you. His thumb wiped the tears from your cheek and he gave you a sad smile. "It would be a waste to spend what time we have left crying."

You nodded and took a few deep breaths before wrapping your hand around the back of his neck and pulling him in for a deep kiss right as he sunk himself inside you. He groaned into your mouth and his grip around your leg tightened until his hips became flush with yours.

"Please, allow me to see you, cor mea," he murmured, and you hadn't even realized your eyes squeezed shut. You opened them and stared up at him looking at you like you were his only salvation. The words crawled up your throat and slid down to the tip of your tongue, begging to be said, but you swallowed them back down.

It was too fast. It was all too fast and you didn't have the luxury of time to figure it out. But what you did have was him, in that very moment, and you refused to waste it.

You bucked your hips up slightly, giving him the green light to move, so he did. He went slow. He took his time dragging the heavy length of him in and out while his mouth never left your skin. If he wasn't kissing your lips then he was kissing your jaw, your neck, your shoulders - anywhere he could reach, he left his mark. It was the type of mark that burned your skin and settled deep below the surface, flowing through your veins and directly into your soul. The kind of mark that made you want to say something your brain thought was incredibly foolish but your heart was screaming otherwise.

To distract yourself from your thoughts, you wrapped your arms and legs around him and tilted to your side. He understood what you wanted and rolled the both of you over so you were on top, gasping for air. The new position had him reaching a spot that made you see stars and you needed to take a moment to collect yourself before you began to move.

"Oh, fuck," you whimpered, tilting your head back towards the ceiling and shifting your hips ever so slightly. Marcus grinned up at you, his big hands sliding up your thighs to settle on your hips.

"You are so beautiful like this," he told you softly. You dropped your chin back down to look at him, your entire being vibrating with adoration. "You fit around me so perfectly, my love. Do you feel that?" he asked when his cock pulsed inside of you. Your jaw dropped and you nodded. "That is what you do to me. You make me harder than I ever thought imaginable, yet your beautiful body takes me so well."

The praise made your chest warm. You began to roll your hips slowly, savoring every inch of him inside you with your hands braced on his broad shoulders for support when Marcus groaned and leaned forward to catch your breast in his mouth. The feel of his prickly beard against your skin combined with the way he flicked his tongue over your nipple made your back arch and your face pinch with pleasure.

Without warning, Marcus sat up and wrapped one arm around your waist while the other braced himself on the mattress so he could rock his hips in rhythm with yours. Your mouths hovered over each other as you began to move a little faster, your gasps and pants mingling together in the otherwise quiet room.

You could feel the familiar crest building deep inside you and you tried to fight it. Marcus, ever attentive, quickly figured it out and frowned.

"Let go, my sweet," he ordered, but you shook your head.

"I don't want it to end," you whimpered, forehead falling to rest on his shoulder. His arm squeezed around you tighter and his jaw clenched, desperately trying to hold off until you found your release first.

"I plan on taking you as many times as you will allow tonight," he said, lips brushing against your ear and sending a shiver down your spine. "Please, let go," he urged, grinding his hips up against you. "My only wish is to take care of you."

Your heart rattled in its cage at his words, your body growing weak and melting into his hold, giving into his request far too easily. With a raspy moan that resembled his name, you reached your climax, body shuddering in his lap while he whispered words of encouragement in your ear.

When he felt you relax, he groaned and started to move faster, your slick coating his length more and more with each deep thrust. You tilted your face from your spot on his shoulder to find his lips, your tongue plunging languidly into his mouth while he continued to fuck up into you. You had never felt so at peace than in that moment with Marcus. His presence was everywhere; his arms were wrapped tightly around your middle, pressing your sweaty chests together so close, you could feel his heart beating in time with yours. His spend, thick and sticky, was leaking out of you and down his shaft after he came. He was so warm and strong and powerful that it had your head spinning and your heart aching for more. And that is exactly what he gave you.

Marcus spent the rest of the night worshipping you. He cleaned you in the shower only to make a mess of you half an hour later. He massaged your hips and legs when they grew too shaky and weak. He held you close, lovingly stroking your hair when you needed a break. And when you finally couldn't keep your eyes open any longer, he wrapped you up in his arms and let you fall asleep on his chest, perfectly calm and content for the last time.

But it wasn't enough.

"Are you alright?"

You kept your eyes squeezed shut and you shook your head. Marcus sighed from his place next to your bed and bent down to tilt your chin up, unearthing your face from your pillow.

"Please look at me," he pleaded. You couldn't deny him anything, but especially so given you only had a few hours left, so you opened your eyes and gazed at him mournfully. He gave you a small smile and lovingly stroked your cheek.

"I will never forget this for as long as I live. You have given me something I never felt worthy of," he said softly. Tears instantly stung your eyes and your lip began to quiver.

"Don't," you whispered thickly. His eyes flashed with something you couldn't identify and he eagerly leaned forward.

"What?" he whispered. "Do not what?"

Don't go, don't go, don't go.

You were going to say it. You were going to be selfish and beg him not to go, to stay with you because now that you've had him, you can't imagine a life without him. And you fucking swore by the way he was looking at you that he might actually stay.

With your heart pounding nervously in your chest, you reached out for his hand and opened your mouth just to be interrupted by a sharp knock on your bedroom door.

"You guys in there?" Danny called through the wood. "We're all ready to go here. Lizard's waiting in a tow away zone out front, we gotta jet."

You swallowed the lump in your throat and forced yourself to get up, not catching the disappointed look on Marcus's face. You probably looked like shit, your hair was a mess and you hardly got enough sleep, but you didn't care. You tugged on a sweatshirt and pulled the hood over your head before taking Marcus's hand and opening the door. Danny was waiting, leaning against the wall looking at his phone, when you emerged.

"Fun night?" he asked with a wink. You shoved his shoulder and pulled Marcus down the hallway towards your front door, only pausing to grab his weapons and the clothes he arrived in.

"Did you call into work again?" Danny asked just to cut the unbearable silence that filled Lizard's fifteen year old shitty sedan. You nodded and continued to solemnly stare out the window. Marcus took your hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze but you were finding it difficult to look at him because if you did, you were certain you would burst into tears.

Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry, you repeated to yourself when you pulled up to the familiar split level, faded green home Lizard grew up in. You took Marcus's hand as you walked behind Danny and Lizard, each heavy step bringing you closer and closer to heartbreak.

"We'll distract his mom, you sneak Marcus down to the basement," Danny told you. You nodded and stared down at the ground, your unusual silence giving your brother pause before he awkwardly scratched the back of his neck and turned back around.

"Hey, Mrs. Delio! We're back!" Danny called extra loudly into the house. You quietly snuck in after them while they hurried to the kitchen to stop her from stepping out and seeing you before you could sneak downstairs.

"Are we in a dungeon?" Marcus asked when you turned on the light and he saw the concrete walls and floors with only one small window in the corner of the room. You were about to explain it to him when you spotted the time machine in all it's glory, sitting proudly next to the washer and dryer, and you froze. Marcus felt you stiffen next to him and he turned around only to sadly drop his gaze when he noticed what caught your attention. He twisted your body towards him and took you by both shoulders before taking a deep breath and looking you dead in the eye.

"My love-" he began softly, but then Danny and Lizard came rushing down the stairs. You sniffled and looked away so they wouldn't see how emotional you were, but Marcus pinched your chin and forced your eyes back to him.

"We're all set! She's heading out in a few to play bridge, she won't even notice we're gone til we're back," Lizard said as he began to power up the time machine, completely oblivious. You swallowed thickly, eyes still glued to Marcus and heart thumping so fast that you could hear the blood rushing in your ears.

"You ready, big guy?" Lizard asked excitedly as he opened the door and peeked inside the tiny vessel. Danny cleared his throat and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Give 'em a minute," he said quietly, and for the first time all week you felt thankful for your little brother. Lizard turned around, his eyes bouncing back and forth between you two until it dawned on him. He nodded before taking a few steps away to pretend to look at something on his computer with Danny in order to give you a little privacy.

"My love," Marcus began again, holding both your hands tightly in his. "It is difficult to put into words how I feel," he said, taking in a shaky breath. "I wish I were able to show you, but I do not have any talents. If I were a poet, I would write sonnets of your eyes. If I were a musician, I would write ballads of your laughter. If I could create art, I would sculpt and paint for hours to capture the essence of your beauty. But I am just a man, and my foolish words will have to suffice."

Fat, hot tears began to unabashedly roll down your cheeks and your eyebrows pinched together as you tried to memorize every single second before it was gone.

One tear fell from the corner of his eye and he gave you a sad smile. "I have never felt like this before-" he said, but you stopped him, unable to hold back any longer.

"I love you," you sobbed, not even noticing the way Danny's head snapped to look at you in surprise. "I know it's fast and stupid but I love you and I'm sorry but I couldn't let you go without telling you."

Marcus grabbed your face with both hands and pulled you in for a deep, breathtaking kiss. Both your lips were trembling and your tears were mixing together on your cheeks but it didn't matter. Nothing else mattered except the two of you in that moment.

He pulled back and pressed his forehead against yours before whispering, "And I love you, cor mea. You are my sanctuary. I wish to spend the rest of my days cherishing you and making you happy."

"Then stay," you begged, the words finally slipping past your lips with such earnest desperation, your voice cracked. "Please. Stay with me. Please-"

He pulled you in for another urgent kiss but this time, he wrapped both arms around you and pinned you tightly to his chest, pouring every ounce of emotion he had into it.

"Are- are you certain?" he stammered when he finally released your swollen lips. You gazed up at him with bleary eyes and nodded with a wide smile. You could feel his heart beating rapidly under your hand, which was pressed firmly against his chest, and he broke out in a huge grin.

"They couldn't have this conversation before I got a parking ticket this morning?" Lizard muttered to Danny under his breath, but Danny just elbowed him in the side, unable to look away from the two of you with a big smile of his own.

"I never thought I would feel happiness such as this," Marcus whispered in your ear, tears falling freely from both of you but for an entirely different reason now. You giggled into his neck, tugging him even closer, afraid to let him go even though he agreed to stay.

Danny clapped his hands, breaking the two of you up but Marcus still held you protectively against his side and you kept one arm wrapped around his waist when you turned to face your brother.

"So, no time travel today?" he asked, cocking his head to the side with a smirk.

"There is nothing left for me there," Marcus announced, the dread of being a disgraced man on the run or a gladiator becoming a distant memory. "Everything I ever wanted is right here. I apologize to you both for any additional work this has caused."

"No apology necessary," Danny said, squeezing Marcus on the shoulder good-naturedly. Lizard cleared his throat and took a few steps forward. You narrowed your eyes when you saw he was about to speak and quickly cut him off.

"I'll pay for the goddamn parking ticket, Lizard!"

He smiled at you sweetly, pleased he got exactly what he wanted. "So happy for you both, by the way."

You rolled your eyes and looked back up at Marcus.

"Do you want to go home?"

He smiled down at you warmly, his eyes dancing with adoration and happiness before bending forward to brush his lips tenderly over yours.

"Yes, my love. Let us go home."

Please follow @punkshort-notifs and turn on notifications for fic updates ❤️

[kestisvrse]

you don’t know me

pairing ⋆ spidey!luke castellan x gn!reader au. fluff with a bit of angst. friends to lovers.

synopsis ⋆ spider-man appears at your window for help, and accidentally reveals his identity.

warnings ⋆ blood descriptions, stitching, swearing, stranger danger tbh, bit dramatic(?), kinda rushed i apologize | wc: 2.5k

a/n ⋆ i hate the ending of this so feel free to not read it😭😭

♫ - jackie and wilson by hozier

1:33am

it was hard trying to stay awake at this time, sound of the rain against your window and the soft snores of your roommates made it was easy to focus on closing your tired eyes instead of looking over all the notes scattered on your desk, it seemed nothing could stop you from drifting off to the peaceful place despite the thought of your sore neck in the morning from being slouched over your desk, but three taps against your window made your eyes shoot open.

he regretted it immediately, as he watched your head rise from the desk, but what else could he do? he gripped his side as he watched you mumble to yourself at the sight of spider-man on your fire escape, but you quickly opened the window.

“what the fuck?” you whisper at the sight, the heavy rain began to cover your window sill and floor but you didn’t even notice.

“hi, um i know this must seem very odd..” the superhero in front of you trailed off as you let him in, “shit, i’m bleeding on your carpet.”

“what- oh shit!” you gasp, noticing the giant gash he gripped on his torso, without a second thought you grabbed his hand and dragged him into your private bathroom, pushing him to sit on the toilet as you rummaged in your cupboards, as you pulled out a first-aid kit, you rummaged for supplies, “can i ask why the hell spider-man is bleeding in my bathroom right now?”

“i- i lost a lot of blood, i wouldn’t have been able to make it to my place in time.” he lied, “not to sound creepy but i saw your light on and.. and i needed help.”

“can you take the top half of your suit off?” you ask, washing your hands, as if you hadn’t even acknowledged what he had said. he nods, unzipping the back and removing his arms from the sleeves, letting the suit rest at his waist, his mask still hiding his identity, “this will hurt.” you warn, even though he had definitely experienced worse than a wound being wiped down.

but still he winced, clenching his jaw, as you realized it wasn’t just a cut, he had been stabbed.

“thank god you stumbled across a med-students dorm.” you mumble to yourself, trying to lighten the mood as you get ready to stitch his side together, as he went to laugh at your comment he was interrupted by a groan of pain emitting from his throat.

“i know it hurts, but try to be quiet. if you wake clarisse, my roommate up, she will not make this situation any better.” you say, luke holds back a laugh knowing it was definitely true, he bites down on his lower lip as you stitch him up. luckily it was a shallow cut,.

you worked in silence, occasionally broken up by strewn out swears and winces from the superhero, biting your lip in concentration. as you tied together the final stitch you let out a breath you hadn’t even realized you were holding.

“okay, the hard part is done.” you informed him, wiping down any excess blood that stained his skin.

“thanks.” he mutters weakly, moving to adjust his posture but immediately freezing as pain shoots up his body.

“stay still.” you say, “i still have to bandage it.” pulling out medical tape and gauze out of your medical bag, he felt as your hands occasionally slipped off the white bandage and touched his stomach. the pain almost subsided as the feeling of your fingertips burned into him. wrapping the bandage around his torso and taping it down you lean back on your knees, letting out a sigh.

he focuses on you as you stand, washing blood off your hands in the sink before cleaning up your supplies, you glance at him catching him staring, as he pretends to admire your bathroom as if he hadn’t been in here before.

“um-“ he clears his throat, “sorry for bleeding on your floor.” he mentioned, guilt evident in his voice.

“s’okay, i didn't like that carpet much anyways.” you say, which was a lie. luke remembered vividly how happy you were to get what you called, ‘the best rug ever’ for your room, his brows furrow.

you lean back against the bathtub, letting out a sigh, he goes to move but you nudge him with your foot, “don’t go just yet, won’t be good to swing on new stitches.” you explained to him, as he leaned back against the back of the toilet.

his breathing was sharp and inconsistent as his stomach stung in pain, his eyes squeezed shut, “the only thing i have for pain is like advil and tylenol. i don’t know if that helps with stab wounds though.” you spoke up, he shakes his head in response.

“i’ll be fine, just- just need to catch my breath.” to which you nodded in response.

“can i get you water?” you suggest, quickly standing as a ‘please’ is heard from under the mask, him suddenly noticing the scratchy and dry feeling of his throat. you rush out the room, tiptoeing into the kitchen to grab water for the superhero, as you return and hand it to him, you spin around so he can remove his mask.

his face was red as he watched you carefully, slipping his mask above his nose to gulp down the glass. scared you’d spin around to discover it was your friend bleeding out in the bathroom.

but you didn’t, as he pulled the mask back down and placed the cup on the counter, is when you turned and returned to your spot on the floor, bringing your knees to your chest.

he begins to shuffle uncomfortably on the toilet, breathing harder as his back slouched and his body tensed. the bandages felt tight on him, as he resisted the urge to rip them off, he was quickly distracted as you kneeled in front of him, placing your hand on his exposed wrist.

tingles shot up his body at the feeling of your skin against his again, it felt so odd, knowing he had hugged and brushed past you so many times but this was different, every touch had him blushing as butterflies flew around his stomach, he didn’t know you felt the same way, but with luke, not spider-man.

“control your breathing, your pulse is out of control.” you breathe, your pointer and middle finger pressed against his wrist feeling his pulse.

he began to focus on your breathing, watching as your chest rose and fell while you seemingly seemed focused on the wall of the bathroom. he quickly matched his breathing with yours, sitting up straight as your hand pulled away from him.

“thank you, for helping me.” he stammered, suddenly self conscious of his voice, how hadn’t you recognized it?

“i mean, what else was i supposed to do? there was a superhero at my window sill.” you scoff in disbelief, “it’s fine, i mean, it’s the least i can do for you keeping me- uh new york, safe.” you clear your throat, staring at your hands that rest atop your knees. “can i ask you something?”

his throat dries, “yeah?”

“i mean- obviously don’t answer if it’s too personal or gives away your identity, but.” you tilt my head, “do you like… live a normal life during the day? or are you always spider-man?” you ask cautiously.

he pauses to think about his answer, narrowing his eyes at you, “oh yeah, i-i do have a normal life during the day.” he confesses, the hand that grasped his stomach moves to scratch the back of his neck.

“cool.” you reply, stopping yourself from question him farther.

“you aren’t asking any questions,” he stated quietly, almost in disbelief. as he spoke, he shifted his attention to your face. “i was expecting some like freaked out reactions. but you’re... you’re really chill about this.”

“you have a secret identity for a reason, i wouldn’t want to ruin that for you. you keep the city safe, and that’s all i need to know.” you shrug in response, staring at the white eyes of his mask.

“i mean it’s so crazy.” you say randomly, causing his head to tilt in confusion, “i’ve thought about it before you know, imagine one of my friends was a masked superhero.” he tenses, knowing that in fact it was true, “like my friend luke, he’s always disappearing at random moments.” his eyes widen but you don’t notice because of the mask, chuckling to yourself at the thought.

“yeah, imagine that.” he murmurs in response, suddenly very sweaty in stress.

“how’re you feeling?” you turn your attention back to him.

“still hurts a lot, but i should go now.” he explains, his hand on the counter to steady himself as he stands, “again, thank you so much.”

you walk to the window, opening it and helping him climb out onto the fire escape, “again” you repeat him, “it’s the least i could do.”

4:56pm

you yawn as you open the door revealing luke castellan, bag swung over his shoulder and hair messy from the wind, he gave you a lopsided smile, “ready to study?”

you shake your head as he enters your apartment, “i was studying all night, barely got sleep.” you respond, leading him to your room.

he just nods his head at you in response, cheeks growing hot, sure you were studying, before his alter ego stumbled through your window.

as he walked into your room, he immediately took notice of the spot of your carpet that had been rolled over, to cover the evidence of the blood stain. his stare lingered there, before quickly collecting himself to sit on your bed.

“i made these flashcards for you last night.” you break the silence, holding up pastel green cards, “ready to be tested, castellan?” you tease, plopping onto the bed and leaning against the headboard as he takes his jacket off.

“oh bless you for those.” he praised, comfortably laying down at the end of your feet.

“just admit i’m your favourite person.” you giggle, he rolls his eyes before encouraging you to begin.

thirty minutes past as you tested him, reaching the end before you would swap over, “alright” you clear your throat, “next- luke?” your gaze drifts up from the card.

“yeah?” he asked, waiting for you to continue.

“you’re bleeding.” you point at his shirt, he looks down to find his blue t-shirt slowly bleed red, dripping down his side. immediately, he reacted by pressing down as hard as he could against the wound, a small whimper escaping his lips in the process.

“what-“ you cut yourself off, to look up into his eyes, eyes widening in the process “no fucking way.”

he tore his attention away from his wound, blood seeping into your bed sheets, “i-“ in a flash you’re up from the bed, cards spilling onto the floor as you yank him up causing him to yelp. he sits down on the toilet as you rummage for the first aid kit, again.

“take off your shirt.” you demanded, and despite the surprise this brought him, he didn’t resist. he removed his shirt almost immediately, revealing the bloody coated bandages.

you stared at his chest, the fact that it was the exact same as spider-mans made you wanna scream, but you held back, removing the bandages and staying quiet to patch him up, too scared to speak.

luke stayed silent, staring at you with sad eyes, praying you would forgive him. he winced every so often at the sting of you restitching some stitches that came loose, and rewrapping his stomach with fresh gauze.

your lips pursed together as you washed your hands, refilling the same cup from last night with water and placing it beside him before walking off into your room. luke quickly tugs hair shirt back on, ignoring the blood stain and the pain that shot up his body at the sudden movement, before going to stand in front of you in your room, “i’m sorry.” he whispers.

“you could have died, and it would have been my fault.” you remarked, “can you imagine? spider-man dies in my bathroom and i take his mask off to reveal my best fucking friend.” you scoffed, tears covering your waterline.

his expression softened, as he nudged your foot with his, “but i didn’t.”

“but you could have!” you yell, shooting up to stand in front of him, “jesus luke, this is what you’ve been doing all year? this is why you disappear all the time?” he stares at his shoes as you rub your forehead.

“i’m sorry,” he whispered, a sad expression covering his face, as he blinked rapidly, “i’m sorry for putting you through that. i didn’t mean to worry you.”

“you-you’re spider-man.” you gasp out, in disbelief. your hand clutches your chest as tears roll out onto your cheeks. his hand brushes your bicep as you flinch.

“yeah… yeah i am.” he sighs, guiding you to sit back down on your bed, “i wish i hadn’t come here last night but- i wouldn’t have been able to stitch that up myself.” he sighed as you sobbed into your hands.

“you could have died.” you choke out, repeating yourself before falling into his side, almost on instinct he wraps his arm around you, rubbing your back comfortingly. he knew you wouldn’t respond well if he had ever told you, but he hadn’t thought about how you would feel to him almost dying in your bathroom.

“i’m okay. i promise.” he breathed into your hair, but you just shook your head in response, unable to respond as you tried to catch your breath.

“i don’t care if i am fast asleep, if this ever happens again, you come to me luke, i stitch you up.” you begged, looking up to him teary eyed.

his gaze softens looking at you but nodded in response, “okay, i promise.” his hand hovers over you neck, “i didn’t want to put you in danger or worry you. i would have told you. i was also scared you wouldn’t… wouldn’t look at me the same” he whispered.

“you’re still luke castellan, i still will like you no matter what, you just… you scared the shit out of me.” you sputtered out, not thinking about what you were saying to the boy in front of you, his body tensed.

“like me?” he asks, brows furrowed to see if you meant as friends or.. as more. he got his answer as he watched your eyes widen slightly and you began to stutter, “you… you like me?”

“what- no i meant-“ you shake your head so hard he thought it might spin off, and so he took his chance. the hand that hovered over your neck held your face still as he connected his lips with yours.

you found yourself unable to kiss back in shock, he heats up in embarrassment as he began to pull away, which brought you to your senses as you pulled him back down to press a soft kiss against his lips.

he pulled away for air, leaning your foreheads against each other.

“i can’t believe i accused you of being a secret superhero, while infront of you last night.” you mumbled, as he just laughed in response and shook his head.

“i promise to be more safe, just for you.” he said, leaning in to peck your lips.

[honeytae]

“you refuse to meet his gaze, afraid that your carefully constructed facade will crumble if you do. and it seems like that's exactly what is happening - the walls you've built around yourself are slowly falling apart.”

genre: angst, fluff, comfort

warnings: reader is overworked af and petrified of showing vulnerability, brief argument between reader and jk but only bc he cares, so many tears..like a LOT of crying, descriptions of kissing, make out sesh💋, an unforgivable amount of fluff and L bombs, i really didn’t know what to call this one so it’s just riptide, sorry not sorry you guys

wc: 2k

the air in the apartment is mostly silent, save for the gentle scratch of lead on paper and the muted pattering of rain against the windows in your home office.

jungkook’s teeth play with his bottom lip as he fidgets in his seat, intently observing you from the opposite end of the table.

across from him, your brows knit together in an attempt to focus, lips pursed in concentration as you stop for a moment, then resume moving your pencil across the page.

he cringes at the disruption of his phone vibrating on the table, abruptly snapping you out of your daze.

as your pencil slips out of your grasp, you sit up straight and flex your fingers around in the air to release some of the tension residing in your joints.

jungkook murmurs an apology but you brush it off, glancing wearily at him and providing a small smile. a sigh of relief escapes you as he leans in, taking your hand in his and gently massaging your tired fingers with a few strokes of his own.

“that feels good,” you mumble, shifting closer to the table for more of his touch.

he hums softly, taking another few moments to work his fingers into your skin, creating a small pocket of silence.

"are you bored?" you ask, feeling a twinge of guilt for leaving him essentially alone at the table. "i'm sorry, baby, i'll be finished in just a few more minutes."

jungkook shrugs in response, casual as he moves his arm to gently rub up and down your own. his touch is comforting and helps ease your anxiety, preventing you from spiraling further.

“it's okay,” he reassures you with a gentle smile, “just take your time. i'll be here.”

his eyes shift from your face to your hand, a frown forming as he notices the red mark on your finger, evidence of how tightly you've been holding your pencil.

you watch, endeared, as he leans down to kiss the spot, then replaces his lips with his finger, gently rubbing over the indentation to soothe the redness.

"you work so hard," he says, tutting his tongue as he continues running his thumb over the spot.

you can only manage a sigh in response, feeling drained and unable to speak. plus, tears are starting to form in your eyes, and you’re desperately trying to hold them back. jungkook notices, of course he does.his expression turns into one of concern as he studies your face, trying to assess the situation.

your mouth is set in a deep frown, almost a scowl, and your eyebrows are furrowed in discomfort from holding back your true emotions. you refuse to meet his gaze, afraid that your carefully constructed facade will crumble if you do. and it seems like that's exactly what is happening - the walls you've built around yourself are slowly falling apart.

in a rush, he rises from his chair and rounds the table, your eyes following him through tears.

once next to you, his fingers weave through your hair, leading your head to rest on his stomach. he wraps his arm around you and massages the tension from your shoulders as you nestle into the soft fabric of his t-shirt, taking in the familiar scent of his laundry detergent.

“time for a break?” he muses, watching as you adamantly shake your head in response.

“i just need to finish,” you reply, trying to stifle the lump in your throat.

he watches as you draw your laptop closer while blinking rapidly to chase away any tears.

you’ve always been one to persevere, which he greatly respects. but it also irritates him that at times, you don’t allow yourself to fully feel.

jungkook suppresses a groan as he watches you type something else into your search engine, briefly tilting his head up to the ceiling in frustration and closing his eyes to take a deep breath.

it can be hard, to watch those you love push themselves beyond their limit. he understands, knowing that he often puts you through the same thing.

you and him share an achilles heel of refusing to give up easily, which is both a blessing and a curse.

the sound of your fingers tapping on the keyboard snaps him out of his trance and he reopens his eyes, sneaking another glance over your shoulder.

he’s about to drop it altogether when he sees your bottom lip quiver, his breath hitching in his throat when the first tear makes it over your lash line.

“baby,” he utters softly, nearly tripping over the leg of the chair he pulls out from the table to sit beside you.

you can’t help but let out a throaty chuckle at his clumsiness, swiping the single tear from your cheek and trying to wave him off.

“i’m okay,” you sniffle, but jungkook just shakes his head in disbelief. he leans forward, balancing on his knees as he takes your fidgeting hands in his own, running his fingers gently along your knuckles.

“seriously, jungkook, i’m fine. stop making it bigger than it is,” you attempt to push him away, but he refuses to budge.

“stop making it smaller than it is!” he counters, voice raising slightly as his anger takes over.

he takes a breath, continuing in a softer voice.“baby, i’m not gonna stop until you let me in.”

his brows furrow in frustration, wide eyes pleading with you.

in the heat of the moment, you hate how intrusive he’s being. you hate that he sees you as his responsibility and that your struggles are ruining his day.

“jungkook, if i’m just a burden-“

“a burden?” he interrupts in disbelief, “you could never be a burden,” he reaches for your hand when you try to get up. “hey, all i ever want to do is help you, because i love you,” he stresses.

his words instantly calm your mounting emotions, preventing you from any more self sabotage.

“i love you,” he says again, “and i cannot sit here and watch you ruin yourself.”

you simply blink at him, the last of your resolve shattering when he starts to soothingly caress your arm with his warm palm.

even when you’re so difficult, he’s so unbelievably kind to you.

“please let yourself not be okay,” he begs, eyebrows pulling together, pained, as he watches you stifle a sob. “it’s so hard to watch you be so strong all the time,” he says, “please don’t shut me out.”

and just like that, your wall comes tumbling down.

jungkook’s emotions bubbling to the surface seem to be the final push for you to tip over the edge. tears now stream down your face, features crumbling as you weakly lift yourself from your chair.

jungkook’s arms reach out to pull you into him, intercepting your body as you launch yourself onto his lap. his lips press repeatedly to the side of your head as he wraps his arms around your stuttering back, squeezing you to him.

“let go, baby,” he says, feeling tears well up in his own eyes as you collapse in his arms, “just let go.”

broken sobs wrack your frame as you cling onto him, one of his hands securely holding the back of your head while the other runs up and down your spine.

the dam has finally broken, and its cathartic for both of you.

soothing words are spoken softly into your ear as your breaths begin to even out, your face finding solace in the crook of his neck.

after a few minutes, your cries quiet and the pool of tears starts to dry on his skin.

jungkook leans back to glance over your face, reaching up to swipe at the leftover tear trails on your cheeks with his thumb.

“feel a little lighter in here?” he inquires, dancing his fingers over your scalp as you lift your reddened eyes to lock with his.

“a little,” you sniff, leaning into his touch as he starts massaging the crown of your head.

“hm, good,” he murmurs, “we’re making progress then.”

wordlessly, you stare into his big brown irises, the whites of his eyes showing evidence of his own tears. despite this, his mouth quirks in a small smile, and the guilt from ten minutes ago consumes you.

“fuck, i’m so sorry,” your frown deepens, closing your eyes when his lips press to your temple, remaining against your heated skin. “i’m so sorry for lashing out at you, i’m just,” you sigh, “i’m just overwhelmed and,” you glance up in thought, “in my own head.”

“i understand, baby,” he soothes, warm eyes finding yours to show he’s being genuine. “it’s all gonna work out, i promise.”

you inhale and sit up straighter, cupping his cheeks as you position your face in front of his. you stare at each other for a moment before he cups your jaw, adoringly squishing your cheeks with his fingers.

jungkook laughs as you pucker your lips, sliding his hands down to rest under your jaw when you tilt your head to the side, pressing your mouth to his.

with each pass of his lips over yours, you feel the ache in your head lessen. your heart reaches out for him and squeezes him closer to you.

he hums as you pull back and immediately go in for more, taking turns capturing your bottom and top lip between his. you grip on tighter to him to momentarily stop the world from spinning around you.

breaking apart for air, jungkook giggles as you unattractively sniff with your full nose, your fingers absentmindedly playing with his hair.

“sexy, huh?” you raise a brow, and jungkook’s features warm when the sparkle returns to your eye.

“duh,” he rolls his eyes, and there’s a beat of comfortable silence as you both recover from your breakdown.

“i love you so much,” you murmur, “thank you for everything you do.”

“yah, kiss-ass,” he teases, his high-pitched laugh escaping his mouth when you pinch his side as punishment for his snark.

“ugh, nevermind,” you sigh as you stand up, and he smiles at you in return, holding onto your hand to help you back over into your chair.

“i love you more,” he sings, chortling as you squint your eyes at him in response.

you redirect your gaze back to your notebook, still looking tired but not as weary as you did before.

jungkook lifts himself to reassume his position from earlier and stands behind you, dropping his arms around your neck. you tilt your neck as he plants a kiss onto the top of your head.

sensing your reluctance to go back to work, he leans down further, his cheek pressing against yours. the gesture seems to melt you back into your chair as the both of you stare ahead at your laptop screen.

“okay,” he starts, understanding your process, “how about some tea to get you through this last part?”

he waits patiently as you think it over. his eyes travel from the screen to your features, staring at your lashes touching your cheek each time you blink.

there’s a hint of water clinging to your bottom lashes, and the sight makes his heart squeeze in his chest.

“yeah, actually,” you answer softly, gently craning your neck so that you can press your lips to his, kissing him one, two, three, four times.

“you’re the best boyfriend ever,” you whisper against his lips, some of the tension in your body already subsiding.

his cheeks go pink with your praise, dark eyes catching the dining room light as he puffs air out of his nostrils.

wordlessly, you let your head hang off the back of the chair, closing your eyes when jungkook’s hand comes to support the back of your head, dipping down to kiss you again.

his fingers rub soothing circles into your neck, causing an involuntary noise to rise up from your throat.

you break apart with a “tch,” noise, pouting when he pulls his arms from around you.

“nooo,” you try to grip onto his fingers, jungkook chuckling as he pokes your bottom lip back into place.

meeting your lips one last time, it takes everything in him to step away from you, pointing at your dimmed laptop screen.

“i’ll be right back,” he soothes, “and i promise i’ll sit here with you the whole time.”

you smile despite yourself, because jungkook is simply the light of your life.

“you better. you’re my emotional support human.”

[cheapshrimpysheep]

There's a Calm Surrender

SUMMARY: The Bead Brawl tournament ends and Leona and the other three run away leaving you, Grim and Jack behind. This causes Neji(Kifaji) to reprimand Leona and trigger him into taking you on a ride to confess to you.

CHARACTERS: Leona Kingscholar x Reader 🦁

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Love Confession; Kiss; Flirting

WARNING: Spoilers from Cloudcalling on the Savanna (Sunset Savanna's Tamashina-Mina) and its respective cards.

WORD COUNT: 2.200 words

COMMENTS: At first, I was going to write scenarios for all the event cards, but as Leona's was so personal, it ended up inspiring me to write a lot. So I decided to let him have his solo post. I'll still write scenarios for the others in a separate post.

By the way, I was undecided whether to use the name Neji or Kifaji, so I used both. 😅

I hope you enjoy. 😘

To escape from Cheka, Neji(Kifaji) and the palace guards who were with them, Leona rushed to the car to drive back to the hotel. Vil, Kalim and Lilia went with him. And you, Grim and Jack were left behind in the rain.

I mean, Leona wanted to escape and the car didn't have seats for everyone but... still... it made you a little sad. At least you had Jack who never left your side. Eventually, Cheka and Neji(Kifaji) reached you, after Leona and the others had already fled. Of course the first thing Neji(Kifaji) did was apologize for Leona's rudeness and offer to take you back to the hotel.

During the ride back, Cheka wanted to stay with you, especially after finding out that the name Leona used to win the tournament was yours. You were like his new favorite person. He even started calling you Unca, like he does with Leona.

There was a moment when it seemed like Neji(Kifaji) was going to correct Checka, perhaps explaining that since you're not married to his uncle, calling you “Unca” as well wouldn't be correct. But for some reason, he interrupted himself with a smile and just said amused: "Yes, they are the real Unca [Y/N]."

SUNSET SAVANNA - SUNSET VILLA

When you arrive at the hotel, you decide to take a shower to clean yourself from the rainwater. And after that, you hear two voices arguing in a nearby room. One is from Neji(Kifaji) and the other from Leona. You can't contain your curiosity and lean against the door to listen.

“The other three only went with me because they wanted to!” Leona says “I could have left alone.”

“And you, as a prince, would leave all your guests behind?” Neji(Kifaji) replies “In the middle of the rain? It would be shameful enough if it were discovered that you did it to three of them.”

“There were no more seats in the car.” Leona says in that smug tone of his. “It would be dangerous if I took more people. I took whoever I could and you took the rest. And for that I thank you. For bringing my other dear colleagues when I couldn't.”

“Hum, dear colleagues. Fu fu.” Neji’s(Kifaji) tone sounded like he was smiling in amusement. “Is that all they really are to you, prince Leona?”

“You know even the ‘dear’ part was deceiver sarcasm. And I don't like that smug on your face.”

“Oh, forgive me, Prince Leona. Far be it from me to insinuate that I know, for knowing you, what feelings you hide for them.”

“Feelings? You don't really think they're my friends, do you?”

“I wish. But I didn't mean all of them. I was referring to [Y/N].”

“And what exactly were you referring to?” Leona's voice lost its smug and sounded slightly annoyed.

“You know, Prince Cheka liked them very much. He even started calling them Unca [Y/N]. Something tells me you would like the sound of it.”

“No, I wouldn't. And it's a good thing those thoughts and assumptions of yours never leave your mouth ever again! Or be written in any way!” Leona had a growl in his voice.

“But of course, Prince Leona. I would never do such a thing.” and his tone became more serious. “You let them get closer and at the same time they are the first person you push away.”

“I didn't ask them to come. The furball insisted that he wanted to come and he is unbearable without his caretaker.”

“You are trying to deceive others by deceiving yourself.”

“Mind your own business and get out of mine!” He roars. There is silence for a few seconds.

“Very well. I will withdraw now. Forgive my intrusion, Prince Leona.”

“I will not.”

“But there is a limit to which a person can be pushed.” His footsteps and voice approach the door and the last thing you hear before leaving is the phrase: “Until they find someone who is willing  to embrace them.”

SUNSET SAVANNA - SUNSET VILLA (later)

It was night. You were only going to return to NRC the next day. You were in your room with Grim and he was already fast asleep, when someone knocks on your door. With your pajamas on, you open it.

Leona looks you up and down. “If you want to come on one last ride, get changed and head to the entrance in half an hour.” He tells you and leaves.

You did as he said and a few seconds later you hear a car approaching. Leona stops, the front passenger door right in front of you ready for you to open and step inside. There's no one else in the car other than the two of you. You can't contain a little smile.

SUNSET SAVANNA - LEONA'S CAR

You ask him where you are going.

“I don't know.” He responds, very naturally.

What did he mean he didn't know? Why did he invite you to take that ride? What was happening?

“I know you heard our conversation.” He says, without taking his eyes off the path and speaking as he normally does. “I heard your footsteps and smelled your scent.” He smirks. “What a rude guest. If he knew maybe he wouldn't praise you so much.”

You apologize.

“It's a little late for that, don't you think? You already overheard a private conversation. And between a prince and the chief chamberlain of his royal family. Few would have such insolence.” he was grinning smugly.

“And what are you going to do with me?” you ask. “For this so-called insolence.”

“I could have you arrested for espionage. I invite you, out of the kindness of my heart, to introduce you to my country and culture, for you to betray me and try to find out personal information about the royal family of Sunset Savana.” He finally looks at you, from the corner of his eyes and with a serious face. “You know I could really do that, right?”

You immediately looked worried and flinched a little.

He laughs. “I’m kidding. Don’t be frightened of each little joke. It's not like I mean any harm to you.”

“Then... what is this?” You ask.

“A night ride.” Leona answers. “Just enjoy it. Look up.”

You do it and you see a beautiful, clear, dark sky full of stars you didn't even know could be seen from earth. He was calmly driving, which made you also feel like everything was okay and that you could relax too. He ended up making his way to the arena where the Bead Brawl tournament took place. But he continued driving toward the colossal boulder that was the tournament's background.

SUNSET SAVANNA - PRIDE ROCK

He parked right at the base of the stone. He gets out of the car, knowing you would follow, and walks up to a locked steel door. He takes a key out of his pocket and opens the door. You ask if you can be there.

“I can. I have the key, don't I?” He starts to climb the stone stairs and you follow him. “Close the door, will ya?” He turns on the lights in the passage and you close the door behind you.

You go up the stairs until you reach a kind of room with a large opening, like a cave. It was blocked by a fence with a locked door, probably for the safety of visitors. You look outside and see that extensive ledge in front of you, the most striking point of that place.

“When planning began to turn this place into a tourist spot,” Leona explained “they thought about placing the fence outlining the stone, to create a landscaped balcony, I think. But the stone has an unstable shape to support a lot of weight, so they blocked the passage here. For the tourists.” He takes the keys again and opens the fence door. “You're not afraid of heights, are you?” He laughs and walks along the ledge.

You go carefully after him. He stops halfway, takes off his cloak and spreads it on the ground. And he lays down beside the cloak.

“I know I'm hot, but wouldn't you rather lie down next to me and see the stars? You can admire me all you want at school.” He was referring to the cloak, it was for you.

You lie down and look back at that wonderful starry sky. It was calming.

“Legend says that it was on this stone that the shaman presented the newborn prince or princess to the other animals.” he tells you, and points to the tip of the stone. “The shama would go there, right on the edge and lifted the cub. Like the golden statue in the city center. I wonder if any lion has ever fallen from there.” he laughs. There's a short moment of silence. “Sorry.”

“Hum? Sorry for what?” you ask

“For leaving you behind in the rain.” he explained looking at the stars. “But if you had been faster I would have brought you too.”

“You’re apologizing?”

“Why are you herbivores always surprised by that?” he sighs.

And then he rolls over and positions himself on top of you with his arms stretched out. Making you look at him with the starry sky behind him.

“And just so we're clear, I didn't want to bring you because this wasn't a vacation. I was just trying to resolve an inconvenience. I didn't want to involve you in these matters, and I just wanted to get this over with quickly.” he smirks “However, I admit it wasn't bad that I had the opportunity to show off in front of you.”

You get flattered, maybe even blush and end up looking down instinctively from his face. But when you do this, your gaze ends up stopping at his torso, with that tight top and the muscles on his abdomen exposed and flexed. And you end up looking to the side, even more flustered, and with a little smile. He interprets this as a green light.

“You heard what Neji(Kifaji) said, right?” He wasn't smiling, but his face was relaxed and he was looking at you with strangely tender eyes. “About you.‘You let them get closer and at the same time they are the first person you push away.’... And you're still here.” he sighs. “Fine, then. I surrender.”

“What do you mean?” you ask “Surrender from what?”

He bends his arms, now supporting himself on his forearms and getting closer to your face.

“From the fight. You’re too persistent. Stronger than me apparently. Always wanting to see me happy. Always present with that smile. You looked like a puppy excited to go for a walk when I let you and Grim come with us... Cute... I’ll put all my cards on the table and give you a choice. And make sure you listen to me because I won't repeat myself. I like you and I'm willing to make you mine. I will give you the choice: Look away and refuse me or kiss me and accept me.”

You take your time. You look at his lips instead of looking away.

“It's your choice, herbivore. Let me be your number one and I'll make you mine... [Y/N].”

You kiss his lips and he lets his body move closer to yours. Until you're in each other's arms. You had started cuddling each other when he tells you:

“Don't tell anyone about this yet. I don't want Neji(Kifaji) to get all cocky thinking he was right and that he had a hand in this.”

“And he didn't?”

“He doesn't need to know that. No one needs. I never thought I'd say it this way, but...” with an arm around your waist he brings you closer. “Hakuna Matata... Let's not worry about it tonight.” and he kisses you again.

You will start to feel him more relaxed, even more than usual. He has nothing left to hide anymore, no feelings to fight against. Instead, he is free to behave however he wants, to hug you, kiss you and fall asleep next to you, especially if you pet his ears. But don't worry, he'll still wake up easily if you need to escape before you two get caught there and people start asking questions.

SUNSET SAVANNA - SUNSET VILLA

The two of you return to the hotel, when you are getting close to separating to go to your rooms, you say good night to Leona and turn to go to your room. But he holds you by the waist.

“And where do you think you're going?” he asks with a smirk. “I skipped the parade, but I still want to celebrate my victory.”

“Do you mean my victory?” you say “After all, I'm pretty sure that masked mysterious warrior that appeared last minute had my name.”

He laughs. “Whoever we celebrate, I want to do it in my room. And I want you there with me.” The way you smile is enough for him to know that you want the same. He picks you up and takes you with him to the prince's bedroom.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX