#and i said it so casually and i saw her eyebrows raise REALLY hard and thats when i realized and i was just like ok put a pin in it

[bunnyboy-juice]

oughghgh

[beloveds-embrace]

(part two of here comes the sun: poly 141 x medic reader where you might as well be the sun to them)

Soap wasn’t subtle about it.

The moment he was cleared to leave the med tent, he started pushing. Hard, even if he knew there wouldn’t be much, actual opposition.

“Price,” he said, leaning against the captain’s desk like he wasn’t still healing. “John. We need her.”

Price didn’t even look up from his paperwork. “You need to sit down before you tear that wound open again.”

“I’m serious,” Soap insisted, gesturing wildly. “You saw her. She’s sharp, steady. Quick hands. Disnae panic under pressure. And-”

“And she’s not ours,” Price cut him off, finally looking up. “She’s stationed with another unit.”

“She could be ours,” Soap shot back, undeterred. “We need a medic. She’s the best one I’ve seen.”

Price gave him a long, measured look, and Soap could tell the captain was already considering it even before Soap burst into his office.

“She’s bright.” Price said after a beat, tone flat but amused, and sat back in his chair.

Soap grinned. “Aye. Easy ta spot.” What you, yourself, had said to him when he’d woken up in that tent. He kept going through that day again and again.

Price exhaled through his nose and reached for his phone, and Soap left feeling quite satisfied.

You arrived two weeks later.

The announcement was casual- just another personnel transfer- but the 141 treated it like the sun itself had walked into their orbit.

You stepped into the briefing room with the ease of someone who had faced fire and walked out the other side. Your bright gear stood out starkly against the muted greens and browns of the others, like a flare shot across a starless sky, and it reminded them so much of the day they had met you on that battlefield.

Gaz was the first to speak, offering a low whistle as he leaned back in his chair, offering you an easy smile. “Looks like it’s true. They really did send us the sun.”

You smiled at that, shoulders straight but relaxed, clearly used to the nickname by now. “I’ll try not to blind you, Sargeant.”

Soap’s eyes never left you. His grin tugged at the corner of his mouth, and before he could think better of it, the words slipped out- low and rough like an ember still burning.

“Doubtful.”

You blinked, turning to him, but he quickly looked away and scratched at the back of his neck like it hadn’t meant anything. It did, though, and he knew everyone in the room had caught it.

“Well,” Price finally said, breaking the moment. “Welcome to the task force, medic. Let’s hope you live up to your reputation.”

You raised an eyebrow, that sharpness returning to your gaze as you stood a little straighter. “I don’t plan on letting you down, sir.”

Soap’s heart stumbled. That steady confidence- it was the same tone you’d used when you’d saved his life, the same fire he’d seen in your eyes as you’d pulled him back from the edge.

Here comes the sun, he thought again, and this time it didn’t feel like an omen.

It felt like a promise.

And now, you fit into the 141 like you’d always been there.

It didn’t happen all at once- trust like theirs was hard-earned, built in layers of sweat, blood, and battlefield grit. But it started quickly enough.

Price made it clear from day one. He didn’t just treat you as part of the team; he expected it. No fanfare, no hesitation. “You’re one of us now,” he said after your first successful op, clapping a hand on your shoulder. “Don’t forget it.”

Gaz took to you next, easy and natural. He lingered near you during drills, cracking jokes and testing your reflexes like it was a game. “Just making sure the sun doesn’t burn out,” he’d tease with a grin. But the way he always had your back in the field- never too far, always watching- spoke louder than words.

Soap made it impossible to keep your guard up, of course. He pulled you into conversations before you even realized it, throwing compliments and nicknames around like confetti with an easy grin. “The sun’s shining bright today,” he’d say whenever you joined a room, all charm and laughter. It was easy to laugh with him, easier still to trust him when things got serious.

Ghost was different. Quiet. Watchful. You never caught him outright staring, but you felt his presence. He didn’t say much at first- just short nods and simple instructions during missions. But then there were the small things. The way he passed you ammo without being asked. The way he moved closer during tense moments, his silence as steadying as any words.

And when he finally spoke up, it was never casual. “Good work,” he told you after a long, brutal mission. It wasn’t much, but it felt like everything.

You learned to move with them like clockwork. They learned to rely on you the same way. Missions came and went, and somewhere in between the chaos and quiet, you stopped feeling like the new addition and started feeling like home.

It wasn’t the colors of your gear that made you stand out anymore. It was the way you fit beside them- bright and steady, a fixed point in their orbit.

Soap caught himself watching you more often than he should’ve.

It wasn’t just the colors, though they still hit him first- those impossible reds and oranges that stood out like fire on a battlefield. They reminded him of sunrise after too many nights spent in the dark, of flames warding off the cold, and he didn’t think there’d come a day where the colors don’t surprise him. But it wasn’t just that.

It was the way you moved.

Steady. Deliberate. Like hesitation wasn’t in your vocabulary. You worked with purpose, not a single wasted motion, and it drew his eye every damn time. You stood out in ways that had nothing to do with the bright gear- like light breaking through fog, cutting through smoke and haze to reveal solid ground.

And he wasn’t the only one who saw it.

Price started calling you their beacon during briefings. At first, it had sounded like a joke, a casual nod to the nickname you’d earned, but it simply stuck.

“We follow the sun,” Price said once, tone half-serious, clapping a hand on your shoulder. “And if we lose track of her, we’re done for.”

Soap had laughed along with the others, but the words lingered.

Gaz, for his part, never made any effort to hide how much he liked having you around. He hovered close more often than not, easy-going and quick with compliments.

“It’s just the colors,” he’d insist whenever someone called him out for it. “You’re hard to miss.”

But Soap caught the way Gaz’s tone softened when he said it, like maybe it wasn’t just the colors after all.

Ghost… Ghost was different.

He didn’t flirt, didn’t tease- not like the others. But Soap had spent enough time with him to notice the shift. The slight tilt of his head whenever you spoke. The way his shoulders relaxed when you were in the room. The rare moments he let you touch him, patching up a wound or tightening a bandage, as if he trusted you without question.

Soap had nearly choked when he’d caught Ghost staring once, lingering too long while you tied off a suture on his arm. For all his jokes about Ghost being unflappable, even Soap couldn’t ignore the look he’d seen- the way Ghost had leaned just slightly into your touch, like he’d never wanted to leave it.

And Soap?

Soap was a mess.

Because no matter how much the others admired you- how much they trusted you, relied on you- he’d seen you first.

He’d been the one bleeding out in the dirt, thinking his time was up. He’d been the one who saw you cut through the smoke and fire like something out of a dream. And that fact burned in his chest like an ember that refused to go out.

Sometimes, he thought about what might’ve happened if you hadn’t been there. If you hadn’t run straight into hell to get to him. But those thoughts never lasted long- because all he had to do was look at you to remind himself that you had been there.

You’d saved him. And now, every time he saw you, with those bright colors and steady hands, it hit him all over again.

Here comes the sun, he thought.

And this time, he didn’t want to look away.

It was late one evening when it happened again.

The mission had gone south- not as badly as last time, but bad enough. They’d made it out, but Gaz had taken a hit, and comms had failed halfway through.

By the time they stumbled back to the evac point, Soap was covered in dirt and sweat, exhaustion weighing heavy in his limbs. But then-

You.

You came running, gear catching the fading light, colors flaring like fire in the dusk.

Soap’s breath hitched.

Here comes the sun.

He couldn’t stop thinking it. It looped through his head like a mantra as you fell to your knees beside Gaz, hands already moving, voice low and steady as you worked. The others lingered nearby, hovering but trying not to get in your way.

Soap stood frozen, watching.

Watching you save another life, same as you’d saved his.

It was Ghost who spoke first, breaking the silence. “Told you,” he murmured. “Sun’s hard to miss.”

Gaz let out a weak chuckle, though his voice was tight with pain. “Yeah… can’t look away, can you?”

Price didn’t say anything, but his expression was clear enough. Relief. Trust.

And Soap- Soap felt it more than ever.

The sun. Warmth in the cold. Fire in the dark.

He knew now, without a doubt, that they’d follow you anywhere.

(You’d never lead them wrong.)

[tongue-like-a-razor]

Brother's Best Friend - Part 11

Jake Seresin x F!Reader

A/N: Fair warning: I didn't have much time this week so this was a bit rushed and definitely not my best piece of work, but I really wanted to do at least *something* for the holidays!

Summary: The trials and tribulations of falling for your brother's best friend.

CW: New Years Eve party, banter, fluff fluff fluff

WC: ~2300

Part 1 | Masterlist

“So,” Bradley starts slowly, drawing out a suspenseful silence with a smirk as he butters his toast. “I met study group guy.”

You look up from your plate in alarm, your fork halfway to your mouth, and awkwardly meet your brother’s gaze.

Jake, who’s just set his food down to your left, picks his coffee back up, ready to make a quick exit.

“Uh, where?” you ask, trying to sound casual, but you’re so nervous that your voice wavers.

“Here,” Bradley replies with a grin as he makes his way to the table. “He came by to see how your exam went.”

“Oh?” You gulp anxiously.

“How considerate of him,” Jake notes moodily, setting his coffee back down and giving you a look.

“I agree.” Bradley sits down. “I think he wanted to compare study strategies,” he continues, then clears his throat. “Since the two of you didn’t end up studying together.”

Jake’s eyes go wide as he lets out a feigned gasp. “You didn’t?”

You give Jake an annoyed look and then glance back at your brother who is watching you with a pair of raised eyebrows. “Yeah,” you nod, “about that. Umm, the thing is…”

“You lied?” Jake brings a hand to his chest as though this revelation continues to shock him.

You glare at him irritably. “Partly.”

“Which part?” Bradley enquires, biting into his toast.

You sigh. “The part about study group guy.”

Bradley grimaces. “Why?”

“Yeah,” Jake chimes in, finally taking a seat. “Why?”

“Because I obviously made the wrong decision studying at home,” you retort, eyeing Jake bitterly. “And I just needed somebody to blame.”

Jake watches you cautiously, likely wondering if you indeed think you’ve made a mistake. Good.

“So, you bombed your midterm, big deal.” Bradley waves a hand. “We wouldn’t judge you. Guess that means he won’t be attending tonight’s party.”

You purse your lips. “Nope,” you confirm. “I’ll be all alone.”

Jake tries to catch your gaze as you rise from the table. “We’ll be here.”

“Aren’t you gonna bring your girl?” Bradley asks.

“Nah.” Jake waves a hand.

“Why not?”

Jake eyes you pointedly. “Not really sure where we stand, to be honest.”

You gasp theatrically. “Oh dear! Trouble in paradise?”

Jake throws you a flat look and grumbles, “Well, she’s sort of hard to read at times.”

“Because you’re illiterate?” you retort.

Bradley snorts while Jake scoffs in offence. “Dump her!” Bradley cries as you bring your dishes to the sink. “Life’s too short for mysteries.”

Jake sighs. “She does love to keep me guessing.”

Bradley shakes his head in disapproval after taking his last bite. “She’s playing games with you, man. It’s not worth it.” He gets up and follows you to the sink. “How ‘bout you? You need a date for tonight?”

“Huh?” you say in surprise, having been under the impression that your turn under the microscope was over.

“Remember that dude you met at the Hard Deck last summer? The one you said was ‘so hot’” – Bradley visibly shudders – “I just found out that he’s into you.”

“What dude?” Jake asks abruptly, his posture instantly going rigid.

“The one from 22,” Bradley clarifies. “The backseater. Forgot his name.”

“The douche from Michigan?” Jake makes a face and quickly rises from the table. “You think he’s hot?” he asks you incredulously.

Before you have a chance to respond, Bradley continues. “Apparently he ran into you last week at the café?”

You blink between Bradley and Jake as the latter approaches. While it’s true that you saw one of Bradley’s colleagues the previous week, you’ve since forgotten all about that encounter, because the very next day was when Jake had finally made his move. You start to back out of the kitchen but both Bradley and Jake follow you out. “I have some errands to run,” you say quickly.

“Nothing’s open,” Jake reminds you.

“Do you want me to invite him tonight or not?” Bradley asks, already scrolling through his contacts.

Jake elbows Bradley aggressively. “You’re seriously trying to get your sister laid?”

Bradley cringes. “Dude! Don’t go there!”

Jake stares at Bradley. “What do you think is gonna happen?”

You scoff at Jake incredulously. “Excuse me?”

Jake turns to look at you and places his hands on his hips with an impatient exhale. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I just don’t want her to be alone on New Years!” Bradley exclaims, still looking down at his phone.

“She’s not gonna be!” Jake cries desperately.

“I don’t want the date, Bradley,” you say, putting on your shoes despite having absolutely nowhere to go.

“Why not?” Bradley enquires.

“I just don’t. I’m fine with being alone.”

“You won’t be alone,” Jake repeats, the frustration in his voice noticeably mounting.

“I thought you liked him,” Bradley says, slightly deflated. Clearly, he assumed that he was doing you a favor.

“I don’t even know him,” you say. “I just thought he was good-looking, that’s all.”

Jake makes a face. “He’s not.”

You roll your eyes. “Appearance is subjective.”

Jake stubbornly shakes his head but makes no further comment.

“Okay, so why not give him a chance?” Bradley presses. “It’s not like you’re seeing someone. Right?”

You give Jake a quick glance before conducting a thorough examination of your own shoes. “Well, kind of.”

“Kind of?” Jake asks, slightly panicked.

You continue studying your feet. “I think.”

“Who is he? What’s he like?” Bradley asks.

“Uh,” you stall, “he’s alright.”

Jake lets out a muffled cry. “Alright?” he asks and you try not to wince at his utterly obvious outrage.

Meanwhile, Bradley raises an eyebrow. “Wow,” he says wryly. “Sounds promising.”

“What else?” Jake says quickly.

You look up at him in disbelief. “Occasionally aggravating.”

Bradley appears puzzled. “Why are you with this guy?”

Jake squares his shoulders. “He must be extremely handsome.”

Bradley looks back at you. “Is he?”

You roll your eyes. “He’s cute.”

“Cute?!” Jake exclaims.

Bradley laughs. “I really think you should give my guy a try.”

Jake crosses his arms over his chest and stands up taller. “I’m sure there’s more to this guy than just… his looks.” He’s blatantly searching your face now, as if Bradley isn’t even present.

You start to nervously fix your hair in the mirror at the front door. “I’m not interested in your guy, Bradley.”

“Why not?”

“Because…” You sigh resignedly while Jake watches your reflection. “I… I like my guy.”

Jake stares at your face in the mirror as if this is news to him. Then, his mouth slips momentarily into a smile before he sucks in his cheeks to hide it.

Bradley grimaces. “Why?”

“Because, he’s…” another reluctant sigh, “…he’s a good guy.”

“That’s kind of vague,” Jake comments, still trying to suppress a grin.

You shoot him a glare while Bradley chuckles. Then, he says, “Alright, fine. Maybe in a couple of weeks when you’re single again.”

Jake looks at Bradley sharply. “Why would she be single again?”

“Come on, when was the last time my sister liked a guy enough to stay with him long-term? She finds something wrong with everyone she dates.”

Jake shifts his weight uncomfortably. “Maybe this one will stick.”

“Doubt it.” Bradley shrugs.

“This one’s different, Bradley,” you say quietly, turning to face them again.

Jake looks back at you. “He is?”

“How so?” Bradley asks.

You pause, hesitant to reveal the truth. “He… makes me feel…”

Bradley watches you dubiously. “Pretty?”

Jake also takes a stab: “Aroused?”

You let out a weary sigh and lock eyes with Jake. “Safe.”

He stares at you with a stunned expression while Bradley nods approvingly.

“Happy,” you continue.

This time, Jake doesn’t hide his smile, but Bradley raises his eyebrows as though your response has surprised him.

“Strong,” you say.

“Wow,” Bradley mutters.

Jake lowers his gaze with a grin, but you decide to add, “And aroused, I mean –”

“Oh god!” Bradley exclaims.

Jake chuckles, glancing up at you again.

Bradley shakes his head. “I get it, you’re in love. But, Seresin – I just remembered: I’ve got the perfect girl for you!” He holds up his phone, beaming.

…

Bradley decides to invite the perfect girl just in case because he can see how much his dear friend has suffered at the hands of his mysterious lover. And the perfect girl just happens to be Jake Seresin’s exact type. You try to ignore her flirtatious behavior while Bradley all but pushes Jake in her direction. Your brother seems so keen to set Jake up, you start to wonder what his vested interest might be.

There are enough people in attendance that you can watch Jake without worrying about anyone noticing that you’re staring. So, you pour yourself a fourth martini and head back into the living room to see what your brother’s best friend is up to. You barely make it past the couch, however, when someone you’ve only met once in your life takes your hand and starts encouraging you to spin under his arm.

You glance over at Jake, whose date is also trying to get him to dance. Taking a sizeable gulp of your drink, you follow through with the spin and smile uncomfortably at your new dance partner. The room is bustling because the ball is about to drop and everyone has gathered for the countdown, so you’re forced to crane your neck every so often in order to check on Jake.

He notices your new friend right away, locking eyes with you despite his own supposed date trying to monopolize his attention. You wish you could steal a moment with him when the new year arrives, but Bradley would notice his friend’s absence in a heartbeat considering he’s been tailing Jake all night, making sure that he was having a good time.

When the champagne flutes start making their rounds and the crowd erupts in an enthusiastic countdown, however, Jake separates from his friends and starts making his way through the bodies toward you. He nods his head in the direction of the hall before he’s even come near you, inviting you to join him. But you glance back at Bradley and see that he is already searching for Jake in the crowd that’s suddenly doubled in size as everyone has made their way into the living room.

You shake your head at Jake regrettably. The last thing you need is for the year to start with Bradley walking in on the two of you making out.

Jake gestures more vigorously with his head, urging you to follow and, when you refuse, he moves closer and reaches out to grab your hand. You don’t resist when he pulls you in and, before you can check to see if Bradley has finally given up his search, the clock strikes midnight, and Jake takes your face in his hands and kisses you right there in the middle of the living room amidst the explosion of cheers that welcome the new year.

You hope there is enough commotion in your vicinity to obscure the way Jake’s hands slide sensually down to your neck and then take your shoulders as he steers you through the crowd out of the room, his lips avidly devouring yours the entire time. Somehow, the two of you make it out without even looking up and, once you’re more or less alone, Jake mutters, “Your brother is getting real fucking annoying.”

You chuckle as he plants kisses along your jawline. The two of you are still moving through the house, into the darkness of the entry hall. “He’s been extra involved today,” you agree.

“He’s been fucking annoying,” Jake repeats, sucking on the side of your neck as you come to a halt in the foyer and he wraps his arms around you.

“He’s your best friend,” you remind him.

Jake presses you gently against the front door and licks your earlobe, whispering, “Who the fuck were you dancing with?” You giggle and feel his lips spread into a smile against your skin. “Oh, you think that’s funny?” he asks, and you feel his tongue on your ear again. “You think it’s funny that I had to actively restrain myself from socking him?”

“What about you?” you say, still laughing. “You were with that girl all night!”

Jake whimpers into your neck and his hold on you tightens. “All I wanted was this.” You close your eyes when his mouth finds yours once more. “My new year’s resolution is that I’m never gonna stop kissing you,” he mutters between pecks to your lips.

You giggle again and then sigh, slightly pushing him away. “What are we going to do?”

“I just told you what I’m going to do,” he says, going in for another kiss.

You turn your head and he ends up kissing your cheek. “This is how we’re going to spend the new year? Sneaking around? Hiding in dark corners?”

Jake exhales slowly, resting his forehead on your temple. “I’m going to tell him,” he assures you.

“What are you going to tell him?” you ask, hoping that this question might lead Jake to reveal the nature of your relationship as he sees it.

He leans away from you and looks you in the eye. “That I make you feel aroused, of course.” Your jaw drops in outrage and you let out a yelp that quickly turns into a cackle. Jake is grinning widely, pleased with the effectiveness of his joke. Then, he draws you closer and his face changes shape. He squares his jaw and you see the evidence of a nervous gulp in the bob of his Adam’s apple. “I’m gonna tell him that you’re the girl I told him about,” he says, his tone low but steady. You gaze at him in silence, afraid to move a muscle lest he reconsider the sudden sincerity of his words. “The one I can’t stop talking about.” He swallows again. “The one I’ve been obsessing over.” He pauses to study your reaction as though he’s afraid he might be scaring you off. “The one that I – uh” – he takes a deep breath and then lets out a chuckle, shaking his head. He takes your hands in his and weaves his fingers through yours, tugging you forward until his lips connect with the tip of your nose. “Oh god, Baby B,” he says, leaning into you affectionately. “I should probably stop talking now.”

*That's all folks! Happy New Year!*

Read Part 12

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[its-avalon-08]

max, jealous trope, ferrari driver, she is laughing with carlos

grumpy lover boy (mv1)

✦ pairing - max verstappen x female!driver!reader

✦ genre - jealousy, playfulness, fluff

(i adore this man so much, im dying)

The paddock was alive with energy and excitement as fans and teams buzzed about, preparing for the upcoming race. Max Verstappen stood by Red Bull's garage, his eyes scanning the crowd. He caught sight of his girlfriend, Y/N, across the way at Ferrari's setup, chatting animatedly with her teammates, Charles Leclerc and Carlos Sainz.

Max and Y/N had kept their relationship a secret from the public eye, preferring to avoid the added pressure and media scrutiny. It wasn't easy, especially with both of them being high-profile drivers, but they managed to make it work.

As Max watched, Carlos said something that made Y/N laugh—a genuine, hearty laugh that lit up her face. She playfully grabbed Carlos's hand in the midst of her laughter, and Max felt a sharp pang of jealousy.

He clenched his jaw, his mood instantly darkening. Daniel Ricciardo, noticing the change in his friend's demeanor, sidled up to him with a smirk.

As Max continued to watch Y/N laugh with Carlos and Charles, his grumpy demeanor grew more evident. Daniel couldn't resist poking fun at his friend.

"Mate, you're glaring so hard, I'm surprised the Ferrari garage isn't on fire," Daniel said with a chuckle, leaning casually against the wall beside Max.

Max grunted, not taking his eyes off Y/N. "She's just laughing at his joke. It's no big deal."

Daniel raised an eyebrow, a sly smile playing on his lips. "Sure, no big deal. That's why you're standing here looking like someone just stole your lunch."

Max shot him a look. "I'm not… okay, maybe I am a little jealous. But can you blame me?"

Daniel laughed, clapping Max on the back. "Oh, I don't blame you. It's just funny seeing you all whipped. Never thought I'd see the day."

Max rolled his eyes, though he couldn't hide the small, begrudging smile. "Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up."

"Seriously, though," Daniel said, his tone softening a bit. "She really does have you wrapped around her finger, doesn't she?"

Max sighed, his gaze softening as he watched Y/N. "Yeah, she does. And I'm fine with that. Just wish I didn't have to watch her being all friendly with Carlos."

Daniel smirked. "Well, look on the bright side. At least it's Carlos and not someone like… I don't know, Lewis."

Max groaned at the thought. "Don't even joke about that, Dan."

Daniel chuckled, clearly enjoying himself. "Relax, mate. She's yours, and everyone can see it—even if they don't know it."

Max nodded, feeling a bit more reassured. "Thanks, Dan."

"No problem," Daniel said with a wink. "Now, let's get back to work before you burn a hole through Carlos's head with that death stare of yours."

Max finally tore his gaze away from Y/N, shaking his head with a smirk. "Alright, alright. Let's go."

As they walked away, Max couldn't help but glance back one more time, feeling a mix of jealousy and adoration for the girl who had him completely and utterly whipped.

(jumping to carlos and y/n)

Carlos noticed Max's intense glare from across the paddock and shifted uncomfortably. He turned to Y/N with a concerned expression.

"Y/N, did I do something to upset Max?" Carlos asked, his eyes wide with worry.

Y/N followed his gaze and saw Max glaring at them, his arms crossed and his jaw clenched. She laughed softly, shaking her head. "No, you didn't do anything, Carlos. He's just being a bit… overprotective."

Carlos let out a sigh of relief, though he still looked a bit uneasy. "Are you sure? Because he looks like he's ready to come over here and punch me."

Y/N chuckled, giving Carlos a reassuring pat on the arm. "Trust me, it's nothing. Max is just a little jealous, that's all. He'll get over it."

Carlos's worried expression softened into a smile. "You two are really cute together, you know that?"

Y/N blushed slightly, glancing over at Max who was still sulking. "Thanks, Carlos. It's not always easy, but we make it work."

Carlos grinned, shaking his head in amusement. "I don't know how you manage to keep it a secret with how obvious he is sometimes."

Y/N laughed again, the sound light and cheerful. "I guess we just have to be careful. But it's worth it."

Carlos nodded, giving her a supportive smile. "Well, if you ever need any help keeping the secret, you know where to find me."

"Thanks, Carlos. I appreciate it," Y/N said, genuinely grateful for his understanding.

Carlos glanced over at Max once more, then back at Y/N with a mischievous glint in his eye. "Maybe you should go over there and give him a little reassurance. Before he starts plotting my demise."

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. "Yeah, maybe I should."

As Y/N made her way over to Max, Carlos watched with a smile, glad to see his friend happy—even if it did mean occasionally dealing with a very grumpy and jealous Max Verstappen.

(cuteness incoming)

Y/N made her way across the paddock toward Max, her heart warming at the sight of his grumpy expression. She slipped behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her cheek against his back.

"Hey, you," she said softly.

Max stiffened for a moment before relaxing into her embrace. He turned around, his eyes locking onto hers, and without a word, he cupped her face and kissed her passionately. Y/N melted into the kiss, her arms sliding up to wrap around his neck.

When they finally broke apart, Max rested his forehead against hers, his breathing heavy. "You have no idea how much I needed that," he murmured.

Y/N smiled, her fingers tracing soothing patterns on the back of his neck. "Feeling better now?"

Max huffed, his grumpy demeanor still lingering. "A bit. Just… don't like seeing you so close with Carlos."

Y/N chuckled, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. "You know there's nothing to worry about, right? It's just you and me."

Max sighed, his arms tightening around her. "I know. I just can't help it sometimes."

Y/N pulled back slightly, her eyes filled with affection. She began peppering his face with soft kisses—his cheeks, his nose, his forehead, and finally his lips again. "There, all better?"

Max couldn't help but smile, the grumpiness slowly fading from his features. "Yeah, all better. You always know how to fix me."

She grinned, giving him one last kiss. "That's my job, isn't it? Besides, I like seeing you smile."

Max's smile widened, his eyes sparkling with love. "I love you, Y/N."

"I love you too, Max," she replied, resting her head on his chest. "Now, let's go back to work before Daniel makes even more fun of you."

Max chuckled, his mood considerably lighter. "Alright, but only because you asked so nicely."

Hand in hand, they walked back toward their respective garages, ready to face the rest of the race weekend together, their bond stronger than ever.

[incognit0slut]

Better for you

Spencer spends the change of year with a new resolution as he starts looking at his rival differently.

(THIS CAN BE READ AS A STANDALONE BUT IS TECHNICALLY A THIRD PART FOR LOSE CONTROL AND THE LAST LAUGH)

words: 4.6k Category: fluff (surprisingly this is not my usual NSFW work) warnings: kissing, suggestive content a/n: I’m killing two birds with one stone here. One, I caved in and did another part for this rival couple. And two, I wrote this as a participation in @imagining-in-the-margins office party writing challenge🥳 Here are the prompts: 1. The team hardly believes it when Character A agrees to dance with B. 2. “I just never saw you as a... party type of person."

WAS A PARTY SUPPOSED TO BE THIS BORING? A subtle sigh escaped her lips as she glanced around the backyard. When Rossi invited the team to gather around at his house in celebration of the new year, everybody was on board.

"Who would say no to a David Rossi party?" JJ had said, which led her to bring her family along the occasion. Even Simmons brought his wife and five little kids. And now Rossi’s place never looked so alive with this many people, it seemed that everyone was present at this joyful soirée.

Everyone but one person, that is.

She turned her attention back to the drink in her hand, leaning against the open bar Rossi had set up, her mind drifting towards a certain man. It wasn't like she was keeping tabs on him. Really, she wasn't. It just happened that his absence became surprisingly noticeable when he decided to take some time off work to visit his mom, even days before Christmas break.

How long had it been since the last time she saw him? Two weeks? Three? It seemed like a considerable amount of time had passed since she saw was forced to work with him, which happened during the case in a remote town. And despite successfully apprehending the Unsub days later, her resistance to temptation, unfortunately, wasn't as successful.

It was hard not to think of what happened during the travel when it kept playing in her mind like a broken record. It was as if the memories were engraved in her brain—his slick, sweaty body pressing against hers; his soft lips caressing her skin; his large hands roaming her curves, traveling to places that had her hot and wet—

What the hell was wrong with her?

She took a sip of her drink—or more like chugging it down—trying to test if the burning sensation could wash away her filthy mind.

"Whoa," a sudden voice broke through her haze and she looked up to find Luke standing close to her. "Easy there."

His easygoing grin met her gaze as he gestured toward her almost empty glass. She shrugged, aiming the glass toward him in a mock toast. "Just trying to enjoy the party."

"Yeah?" He chuckled, leaning against the bar.

She shot him a sideways glance. "What's it to you, Alvez?"

His grin widened. "Well, when someone's drinking like they're on a mission, it catches my attention. Everything okay?"

She hesitated for a moment before responding, her tone calm. "I'm just getting into the party spirit, you know?"

Luke raised an eyebrow, his playful demeanor unwavering. "Is that so? Or are you trying to drown out some thoughts?"

She scoffed. "Thoughts? What thoughts?"

"The kind that makes you chug down your drink."

"You're imagining things. I'm simply enjoying this..." Her eyes scanned the party, trying to find a word describing the ongoing festive. "...ambiance."

"Alone by the table full of alcohol?"

"Well, someone's got to keep an eye on these drinks from disappearing too quickly."

"Hmm," He responded. "It kind of seems like you're waiting for someone to join the party."

Her cheeks warmed slightly, and she scoffed again. "I know who you're referring to, and no, I am not waiting for anyone."

He leaned in, the mischief in his eyes unwavering. "So, you're telling me that if Reid walked in right now, you wouldn't do a happy dance?"

"Please, there would be no happy dance," she said, rolling her eyes. "Just a casual acknowledgment, maybe."

"Casual acknowledgment? You're going with that?" His grin widened, his teasing persistence unyielding. "There's nothing casual about you two."

"If you mean hating each other's gut, then sure, there is nothing casual about Reid and me."

"He doesn't hate you, you know." She gave him a deadpanned look, her skepticism evident in her arched brow. Luke laughed. "Fine, he disliked the idea of having another prodigy on the team. When he got out of prison, he felt like you were his replacement."

She frowned. "I kind of was. Emily wanted someone to fill in for his absence while he was away."

Luke raised an eyebrow, his expression turning thoughtful. "True, but I think you're starting to grow on him." She shook her head, trying to brush off the comment. "I'm serious, I think you made an impression."

Her skepticism lingered as she fully turned towards him, pointing a finger at him. "So you’re telling me every time he tried to pick a fight he was actually impressed by my intelligence?"

"Well, Reid's got this... unique way of expressing himself, but trust me, he respects you."

She raised an eyebrow. "Now you're just pushing it."

"There's got to be something more than what you're letting on. He's not exactly subtle, you know."

She leaned back slightly, trying to maintain composure. "You're reading too much into it. Reid and I have..." a complicated dynamic between coworkers who hate each other but had sex twice—well, three, including that one time in the shower. "...a professional relationship," she decided to say.

His grin widened. "Professional? I've seen the way you two spar during cases."

She huffed. "It's just our way of solving problems. It doesn't mean anything more."

Luke's expression turned thoughtful. "I've worked with him for a while, and he usually doesn't go back and forth with people in smart talk. There must be something about you that intrigues him."

"Or irritates him," she added dryly. "You're giving him too much credit."

"Maybe," he admitted with a laugh. "But I don’t know, he might surprise you one of these days."

She shot him a skeptical glance. "I highly doubt that."

"Yeah?" He suddenly looked past her, a sly grin forming. "Then maybe should find out for yourself."

Confused, she turned around to see what had caught his attention…. And time seemed to slow as her eyes widened in surprise when she spotted Spencer entering the party, a casual smile on his face as he greeted everyone. For a moment, their eyes locked, and despite her attempts to remain nonchalant, a subtle flutter danced in her chest.

She quickly looked away, her attempt to maintain composure falling apart.

"See what I mean?" Luke's voice broke through her thoughts.

She rolled her eyes, trying to deflect. "It's just a party, people look at each other. There's nothing special."

He raised an eyebrow and responded with a hint of sarcasm. “Sure."

"I'm serious. Stop reading into it."

"Alright, I won't."

That only annoyed her even more. She took a deep breath, attempting to regain control of the situation. "You're insufferable."

"What? I believe you," he replied. "I mean, nothing could've happened between two people who were locked together and then forced to share a room, right?"

She shot him a glare, but before she could say anything, she felt a presence coming up behind her. A sudden chill ran down her spine as she caught a whiff of scent she was accustomed to by now, something woody and fresh with a subtle hint of sweetness.

"Reid," Luke greeted as he gave her a side glance before moving towards Spencer, casually dropping an arm around his shoulders. "It's good to see you. How's your mom?"

Spencer's eyes met hers briefly before responding to Luke, "She's doing well, thanks."

“Good to hear.” Luke nodded his head towards her. "Y/n here was just telling me how much she missed you during the holidays."

Suppressing a groan, she shot him a warning look. Spencer, however, responded with a small smile. "You did?"

Her cheeks warmed slightly, caught off guard by his direct question. She feigned nonchalance, offering a casual shrug. "Please, I was just mourning the lack of someone to challenge my wisdom."

Luke chuckled and gave her one last pointed look before excusing himself with a pretense of Rossi calling him somewhere from the crowd. Her eyes narrowed on his back as he walked away, shaking her head in disbelief. "That man coming close to being second place on my hate list."

"I take it I'm still on your number one spot then."

She turned towards him at the sound of his voice, and now that they were alone, she finally took her time to observe him.

Her eyes scanned his clothes, taking in the details. From the carefully styled hair that hinted at the time he took to prepare, to the open dress shirt that he seemed unbothered to button all the way, exposing his long neck and the slight expanse of his chest. He looked good. He looked clean, polished, and undeniably handsome.

She blinked and cleared her throat, attempting to regain composure. "Well, you certainly took your time getting ready."

He met her gaze with a hint of amusement in his eyes, seemingly aware of her scrutinizing observation. "I believe in making a good impression," he replied, a subtle smile on his lips.

She arched an eyebrow, resisting the urge to acknowledge the effect his appearance had on her. "Trying to win over the crowd with something beyond your brain?"

"Partly," he admitted, "And partly because someone once told me that a well-dressed genius is a force to be reckoned with."

"Must have been Garcia."

He grinned. "You know her well."

She took another sip of her drink, a blend of sweet and bitter notes dancing on her tongue. Keeping her eyes on him over the rim of her glass, she observed the play of shadows on his face, accentuating the angles of his features. The ambient light from the party cast a subtle glow, and she couldn't help but notice how it highlighted the soft strands of hair that fell gracefully across his forehead.

"I'm actually surprised to see you here," she slowly remarked, her voice laced with curiosity.

"Surprised? Should I be offended?"

"I just never saw you as a... party type of person."

"I'm not," he agreed. "The only exception of social gathering I can endure is with everyone present here."

"Including me?"

“Especially you."

Her demeanor faltered for a split second, caught off guard by the unexpected turn in his tone. It wasn't the usual witty remark she anticipated. A flicker of surprise crossed her features before she could conceal it, her throat clearing as she attempted to regain control over her beating heart.

"Especially… me?" she echoed, attempting to mask the surprise in her voice.

Spencer's gaze held a warmth that felt unfamiliar, and he nodded. "It seems social events are more bearable when you're around."

She tilted her head and studied him. "You're just saying that because you have someone to pick a fight with."

"A fight?" He wondered. "Is that what we've been doing?"

"It's what we've always been doing."

"Not for the past few weeks, we haven't."

She knew what he was referring to. Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of indulging in a conversation about their sexual escapades, she instead responded with, "Well, you haven't, I'm still trying to play my part here."

He chuckled softly, the sound resonating in the quiet space between them. "And what part would that be?"

"The one where I constantly question the liability of your knowledge, of course."

Spencer's smile widened, the lines of his face softening. "Maybe," he began, his voice low, "We can explore different roles that don't involve any fighting."

She raised an eyebrow. "Are you suggesting a truce, Dr. Reid?"

"More like a change of tactics, Dr. L/n," he replied, gently taking the glass from her hand and placing it by the bar.

Her frown deepened, uncertainty in her eyes. "What are you doing?"

He nodded toward the center of the backyard where most of their team members filled the space of the party. "Dance with me."

She gazed towards the dance floor, then back at him, and her brows furrowed. That did not sound like the Spencer she knew, heck, she wasn't sure she had ever seen him dance before. Her eyes narrowed further when he gave her a grin.

"Come on, it's just a dance. It won't kill you," he urged, extending a hand towards her.

She eyed his outstretched hand with mock skepticism. "Are you implying that dancing with you is some kind of survival?"

Spencer grinned. "Considering the number of times you've survived my intellect, this should be a walk in the park."

She rolled her eyes. "Intellect, yes. Dancing? I'll take my chances."

"Are you afraid you'll step on my toes?" he teased.

"More like I'm afraid you'll step on mine," she shot back.

Spencer chuckled. "Just one dance, and if you don't enjoy it, you can revert to questioning the liability of my knowledge."

Her eyes drifted between his outstretched hand and his gaze, a silent contemplation unfolding within her. She knew that if she agreed to this, there was no turning back. Was it a wise decision? Probably not. But a small, rebellious part of her was curious to see how the night would unfold.

Spencer watched her with a patient expression, his hand still extended. The music continued to play, a steady beat that seemed to echo the pulse of the night, and after a moment's hesitation, she sighed in mock exasperation.

"Fine," she said, finally placing her hand in his, "But I reserve the right to make sarcastic remarks about your dance moves later."

"Deal," he agreed, leading her onto the dance floor with a grin.

She could feel everyone's scrutiny on them as he pulled her onto the dance floor, her breath hitching when he grabbed her other hand and placed her arms around his neck before snaking his arms around her waist.

"Everyone's watching us, aren't they?" she asked as they started to move to the soft beat of the music.

Spencer's gaze held a mischievous glint as he twirled her around, navigating the dance floor with surprising grace. "Let them watch," he replied, his voice low, sending a shiver down her spine. "It's just a dance, after all."

"You don't strike me as the 'just a dance' kind of person." She arched an eyebrow, unable to shake off the sense that there was more to this move than met the eye. "You don't even strike me as someone who even knows how to dance."

He shrugged. "Dancing is easy. All you have to do is move in circles and hold on to your partner."

He proved his point by pulling her further into his arms, and she couldn't help but notice the contrast in their heights. His broad chest pressed against her, the softness of his abdomen against her stomach, while his arms securely wrapped around her body.

Her breath caught for a moment, her gaze instinctively locking with his. The initial awkwardness transformed into a surprising ease, and she reciprocated the movements with a newfound confidence. The subtle sways and turns took on a rhythm of their own, syncing perfectly with the music that enveloped them.

"See?" he whispered, the warmth of his breath sending a shiver down her spine. "Easy."

They continued to move to the rhythm, and she couldn't help but notice the intensity in his gaze. The world around them seemed to blur, and for a moment, she actually enjoyed being held close to him.

But before she could fully relax in his arms, JJ appeared on the dance floor, hand in hand with her husband Will. The look of disbelief in their friend's eyes was unmistakable as the couple approached them while being tangled in their own dance.

"Are my eyes deceiving me," JJ teased, a playful smile dancing on her lips. "Or are you two getting along quite well?"

She rolled her eyes, attempting to maintain a casual facade. "It's just a dance. Don't read too much into it."

JJ's grin widened as she exchanged a knowing look with Will. "I didn't think I'd see the day when you and Reid would willingly share the dance floor."

She shot a glance at Spencer, and there was a momentary flicker of something in his eyes—was it surprise? amusement? She couldn't quite place it. Collecting herself, she responded with a mock grimace, "He forced me into it."

Spencer's expression turned playful. "I have a way of convincing people to do things they didn't know they wanted to do."

"You mean manipulate."

He chuckled. "Persuade, Y/n. It's all about perspective."

From the corner of her eyes, she saw JJ and Will exchanging another pointed look. "Either way, you both look like you're having a good time."

"And you both look good together," Will added.

"Thank you."

"We're not together."

They both looked at each other while JJ raised an eyebrow, her grin widening. "Yet here you are. Spence, you might have just discovered a hidden talent—getting Y/n to dance."

She let out a sigh. "Don't encourage him."

Spencer leaned in, his tone low. "You're just mad because you're enjoying this."

She narrowed her eyes. "Let's not get carried away."

"Come on, just admit it," The corners of his lips lifted in a playful smirk. "You're having more fun than you expected."

"Fun?" She scoffed, attempting to deflect the growing warmth in her cheeks. "I wouldn't call this fun. It's just an unfortunate consequence of being at a party."

"Yet you can't deny that you're not entirely opposed to the idea."

She shot him a glare. "You're dangerously close to overestimating your influence."

"Or maybe you're underestimating your willingness to enjoy the moment."

She shook her head, turning towards JJ. "Can you believe him—"

She stopped when she realized they had been left alone for a while, noticing JJ and Will were already at the other side of the dance floor. However as her eyes scanned around them, the scrutiny of the others didn't go unnoticed by her. She fixed her gaze back on Spencer.

"We must be such a sight to see," she remarked. "I bet they're starting some rumors about us."

He raised his eyebrows. "You think they haven't already?"

She sighed, acknowledging his words. "Fair point."

"What do you think they're saying about us?"

She considered for a moment. "That we secretly don't hate each other," she responded after contemplating her answer. "I think they might be disappointed when they realize the truth."

His arms instinctively tightened around her waist. "And what's the truth?"

She studied him, her heart suddenly beating fast. Weeks ago, she would have answered the question with certainty, stating that they were nothing more than coworkers who were both very stubborn. But as she felt his eyes watching her intently, she wasn't so sure anymore.

"The truth?" she echoed, her voice a little softer than she intended. "I don't know, Reid. What is our truth?"

He held her gaze, and for a moment, she was hypnotized by the look in his eyes. "Well, the part where we secretly don't hate each other is true, for me at least."

Her breath caught as she absorbed his words.

“…you don't hate me?"

"Hate is a very strong word." Spencer leaned in, his breath warm against her ear. "Hate is often fueled by fear or misunderstanding. It's a complex emotion rooted in our perceptions and experiences. So, in a way, hate is a reflection of the mind rather than a true evaluation of a person."

She couldn't help but let out a disbelieving laugh. "Did you just use psychology to explain why you don't hate me?"

"Considering our line of work, it seemed appropriate."

She shook her head in amusement. "Only you would analyze hate in the middle of a dance."

Spencer continued, "Well, understanding emotions is crucial in our field. And I believe there's more to us than mere hostility."

She pursed her lips together, her mind suddenly going through the times they often bickered. "I still find it hard to believe you didn't hate me the first time we met."

"Dislike would be a better way to put it. But I was at my lowest point at that time. It wasn't just you, I was angry at everyone. At the circumstances. At myself." He slightly leaned back and sighed. "And I admit, it was wrong of me to take it out on you."

Then after a moment of silence, he whispered, "I'm sorry."

She felt the warmth of his embrace, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against hers. The apology hung in the air and she found herself at a loss for words. For a fleeting moment, the walls she had built seemed to crumble, leaving her standing on the precipice of something unfamiliar.

She took a deep breath, her voice barely above a whisper, "And how do you see me now?"

Spencer's gaze held a thoughtful intensity as he considered her question. "I think you're someone who challenges me. There's a depth to you beyond the harsh glare and cold shoulder." He eased, pressing a hand on her lower back. "And, if I may say, someone who looks surprisingly stunning on the dance floor."

A blush crept over her cheeks, and she narrowed her eyes, wondering if he had another motive behind the compliment. "You're using flattery now? Are you trying to get in my pants again?"

He laughed. "Is it working?"

She rolled her eyes, suppressing a smile. "Nice try, Reid. Flattery might get you far, but not that far."

His grin widened, and he guided her through the dance floor with ease. "Well, I'll have to come up with better tactics then."

His touch, gentle and deliberate, sent a shiver down her spine as his thumb traced an almost hypnotic pattern on the small of her back through the fabric of her dress. The soft caress felt both intimate and tender, catching her off guard. "I mean it though," he said, his voice a soft murmur that resonated with honesty. "You do look beautiful tonight."

There was something in his gaze that was unfamiliar, even hearing him easily compliment her was foreign in her ears. Her confusion must have been evident on her face because he smiled at her. "What?"

She shook her head, dismissing her thoughts. "Nothing. It's just... unexpected, coming from you."

He chuckled, the sound vibrating against her as they moved in sync with the music. "It's part of my New Year's resolution."

"What? To be nicer?" She guessed. "Be a better person?"

"To be a better person for you," he corrected.

Her heartbeat picked up, and she found herself drawing closer to him, the music weaving a subtle spell around them. The warmth radiating from him, the soft glow of the string lights, and the gentle melody created an intimate atmosphere that blurred the lines between the hostility she often wore.

The distance between them diminished, and she felt the subtle shift in the air. Without registering what she was doing, her fingers came up behind his neck, softly playing with the strands of his hair. They were so soft, just like the look reflected in his eyes. Then her gaze went down to his lips; they too looked incredibly soft.

"Stop looking at me like that."

Her eyes snapped to his. "Like what?"

"Like you want to close the distance between us," he whispered, his voice a low murmur that sent a shiver down her spine. "Because I'm trying to restrain myself from doing just that."

His fingers found the small of her back, pressing gently, while hers continued their silent dance in his hair. Every touch, every movement, fueled the escalating heat between them. His proximity was intoxicating, and the magnetic pull between them was undeniable. The distance diminished further until she could feel his breath, warm and inviting, grazing against her lips.

But before she could indulge herself, Garcia's voice echoed somewhere in the crowd. "It's the final countdown, people!"

Suddenly becoming aware of their surroundings, she released her arms from around his neck and shifted her gaze elsewhere. Her eyes landed on the projector screen, previously used by the kids for a movie marathon and now it displayed the vibrant scenes of people joyously ringing in the New Year celebration.

As the digital numbers on the screen ticked down, the energy in the backyard intensified. The countdown became a collective heartbeat, a shared anticipation that echoed through the crowd.

"Ten! Nine! Eight!"

In those final moments, she stole a glance at Spencer, their eyes locking silently.

"Seven! Six! Five!"

But his stare became so intense that she quickly looked away.

"Four! Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!"

The cheers erupted, and the backyard was bathed in the glow of fireworks, the sky above adorned with bursts of color. She watched the dazzling display in awe, the explosions of light reflecting in her eyes.

Amidst the celebratory chaos, she noticed her friends wrapped in the arms of their loved ones, celebrating happily. JJ and Will shared a sweet kiss, Simmons was embraced by his family, Penelope and Luke exchanged laughter, and even Rossi, with a subtle smile, clinked glasses with Emily and Tara.

And as the colorful explosions painted the night sky, she felt a lingering gaze on her. Turning, she found Spencer watching her intently. His eyes were searching hers as if he were asking for permission to close the short distance separating them.

She knew what he meant. It was beyond asking permission to kiss her. It was a gentle plea to understand the unspoken boundaries that lingered between them. Engaging in intimacy behind closed doors was one thing, but to take that step in front of their peers meant exposing a vulnerability she had carefully guarded. Did she want to cross that line?

A part of her wavered, finding herself drawn to him—his warm brown eyes, his smile, everything about him seemed to call out to a part of her that she had kept guarded. The barriers she had meticulously built started to feel like fragile walls as everything around them started to fade, leaving only the soft glow of string lights and the distant echoes of laughter.

Oh, fuck it.

Feeling the pull of an undeniable force, she took a step closer with a small, bashful smile playing on her lips. It was all the answer he needed. Closing the distance between them, he framed her face with his large hands, his warm touch sending a shiver down her spine. Surrounded by the cheers of the crowd and the vibrant display of fireworks overhead, he finally leaned down, gently brushing his lips against hers.

Warmth spread through her body as he held her, his touch gentle yet possessive. He tipped her jaw, allowing his mouth to move along with hers. His tongue easily slipped into her as he continued to taste the subtle hint of liquor she had been drinking. Spencer was never one to drink, but he didn't mind tasting it on her. If anything, he couldn't get enough.

Her arms instinctively traveled underneath his suit jacket, seeking more of his warmth as she wrapped them around his waist. The fabric of his suit was smooth under her fingertips, and the heat of his body radiated through the layers of clothing.

The kiss deepened as he continued to explore her mouth, growing more intense with each passing second, and it wasn't until they heard someone through their haze calling out, "There are kids here!" that he finally pulled away.

He laughed, a soft, genuine sound and she couldn't help but join in. He then rested his forehead against hers, their breaths mingling in the small space that separated them. The lingering taste of their kiss hung in the air, and for a moment, they simply stood there. The reality of the situation slowly sank in, and they exchanged a glance filled with a mix of surprise and amusement.

"I guess we got carried away," he mumbled.

"You think?" She chuckled, her fingers playing with the lapels of his suit jacket. "We should keep it PG-13 for now."

His fingers gently traced the curve of her cheek. "Does that mean we can go R-rated later?"

She let out a laugh, throwing her head back in mirth. "You're relentless."

He smiled, savoring the moment of ease between them, and he found himself captivated by the genuine joy she radiated. His gaze traveled around the backyard and noticed everyone watching them with amused grins. He leaned down and pulled her flush against him. "Everyone's watching us."

She groaned and hid her face in the crook of his neck. "I can already imagine their teasing."

There was a moment of silence before he responded, "I think it's worth it."

"What is?" she mumbled into his neck.

He pulled away and looked down at her. In a tender gesture, he brushed a strand of hair away from her face, his touch lingering for a moment longer than necessary. "I can handle the constant teasing if it means I get to hold you like this."

The corners of her lips curled into a soft smile. "You're willing to endure their teasing just to hold me?"

His gaze met hers, unwavering. "More than willing."

Her gaze softened as she looked at him. She couldn't believe how this night had turned out, yet, here they were—wrapped up in a dance of their own. It was a position she would've never imagined herself in. And despite her best efforts to resist, the walls she had meticulously built were crumbling.

"Can I kiss you again?" He whispered. "I promise I'll make it family-friendly."

The corners of her lips curled as she laughed. The unexpected turn of events had brought them to a place she never anticipated, but surprisingly, it felt oddly right.

"I suppose one more won't hurt."

His smile widened, and with a hint of mischief in his eyes, he leaned in, capturing her lips in a tender kiss. "Happy New Year," he whispered against her lips.

She found herself smiling, realizing that perhaps, unexpected as it was, this change of year wasn't so bad. She closed her eyes, savoring the moment, and wondered where her life would take her this year. The path ahead seemed unclear, but one thing was certain—Spencer Reid had managed to find his way into her heart.

.

a/n: if you’ve followed the story since lose control, this is the ending for this short series. As much as I wanted to write smut again for the last part, the fluff was calling out to me :3

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[cocobeanncteez]

Song Series One-shot: Choi San — Into You

Genre: SMUT (MDNI / 18+), fluff, idol au, fwb to lovers au

Pairing: ateez San x idol!reader (fem)

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings/content: heavy making out, dry humping, breast play, oral sex (f receiving) / cunnilingus, clit play, fingering, hand job, cum eating (f), vaginal penetration, protected sex (pill), multiple orgasms, aftercare, pet names (sweetheart, baby, good girl, pretty girl), praising, sorry if I missed anything!

Disclaimer: Please note that my Song Series One-shots are purely based on how I personally interpret the lyrics of the songs I chose for this series. It is not based on the music video (if it has one).

Song Inspiration: Into You by Ariana Grande

You watched the stage lights dim, casting a soft glow over the bustling, cheering crowd, various colored lightsticks twinkling like little stars. Your group stepped into the backstage area, and a familiar rush of adrenaline coursed through you while a staff member helped you take your in-ear monitors off.

Tonight’s performance at a major music festival had been electric, your voice carrying through the venue like a siren’s call. Your group had been practicing very hard for this festival, and your body was begging for some well-deserved rest and some food.

But now, amidst the crowd of technicians, staff, and fellow artists backstage, you searched for one person: Choi San.

“Good job out there, Y/N,” your group's leader said and pats you on the shoulder. You offered her a quick smile in return, but your eyes continued scanning the area. She smirked at you and left you alone, knowing exactly who you were searching for.

Then you spot him, leaning against the far wall, his gaze already fixed on you. San’s dark eyes glittered with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. He straightened up, pushing away from the wall. He strides towards you, his eyes scanning you from head to toe, mentally thanking your stylists for putting you in such a great outfit that really highlighted your beautiful features and hugged your body.

“Y/N,” he greets, his voice a low rumble. You bowed to him as he was your senior in this industry, knowing that there are people around that could be observing the two of you very closely. “You were incredible out there," he complimented.

San looked visibly exhausted as Ateez had performed right before your group did. He wanted to lie down and close his eyes, but he would never miss the uncommon opportunity to watch you perform on stage. Despite the tiredness, he still looked like he was going for a magazine photoshoot.

You laughed lightly, though the sound is tinged with nervous excitement from seeing him after weeks. “Thanks, San. You weren’t so bad yourself." Your eyes couldn't help but scan his muscular arms, marveling at how built he was. He seemed to have gained more muscle from the last time you saw him weeks ago.

He smirked, a teasing glint in his eye. “Just not bad, huh?”

“You know what I mean,” you replied, rolling your eyes playfully. “What’s up?”

San’s expression turns serious, his gaze piercing. He looked at his surroundings before shifting his gaze back to you. “Can we talk somewhere private?”

Your heart skips a beat. “Sure, follow me, I know a place.”

It hadn’t always been this way—the two of you lost in each other’s orbit. In fact, the first time you met San was far from the intense, passionate moment you now shared. It was at an after-party of an awards show a year ago, a glitzy affair full of laughter, music, and mingling with fellow idols.

You were standing by the bar, nursing a drink and chatting with some fellow idol friends when you felt a presence beside you. Turning, you found San leaning casually against the counter of a bar, a mischievous smile on his lips.

When the bartender approached him, he gently cleared his throat. "One chocolate martini with extra chocolate liqueur, please," he ordered, and you couldn't help but raise an eyebrow, utterly fascinated by his choice of cocktail.

“Y/N, right?” he asked when he noticed he caught your attention, his voice smooth.

You nodded, intrigued. “And you’re San. Your group's been killing it lately.”

He chuckled, a low, warm sound, and you noticed his cute dimples. “Thanks, that's kind of you to say," he said, "I’ve been meaning to talk to you. I’m a fan of your work.”

You felt a flush of pleasure at his words, and your heart was beating rapidly. “Thank you, and I'm a big fan of your work too," you said, taking a sip of your drink. "So, what brings you here?”

“Just looking to unwind a bit,” he replied, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. “Maybe meet some interesting people.”

The night had flowed effortlessly from there. You found yourselves in deep conversation, talking about everything from music to dreams and fears. There was an undeniable chemistry, a pull that neither of you could ignore.

It was no surprise when, later that night, you ended up in a quiet, secluded corner of the party's venue, lips locked in a fervent kiss. The taste of him, the chocolate you could taste on his lips, the feel of his hands on your skin—it was intoxicating.

That night had been the first of many. Whenever your groups crossed paths, you found yourselves drawn to each other, sneaking away for stolen moments of passion and connection. Each encounter only deepened the bond between you two, making it harder to deny the feelings that had grown.

Presently, you led him to a secluded corner of the venue, away from prying eyes and eager ears, no cameras in sight; this was a place you found when you had a mental breakdown during an awards show and needed a place to cry.

The muffled sounds of the ongoing concert created a bubble of intimacy around you two. San steps closer, his presence overwhelming.

“I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

You swallow hard, your pulse quickening. “Yeah?”

He nods, his eyes never leaving yours while he stepped even closer to you. “I can barely breathe when you’re around, Y/N. It’s like you’ve got this hold on me, and I don’t know what to do about it.”

Your breath catches in your throat. “San...” He was so close, and you realized that he indeed got bigger since the last time you saw him. The new haircut and dyed navy blue hair made his features look sharper. Half his abs were covered by the black leather crop top he was wearing, and his pants seemed to be hanging a little lower than what you saw on the screen when he was performing before. You wanted to get even closer to him; you wanted to cross the line.

San’s voice broke through your little reverie. “Remember the first time we met?”

You smiled, nodding. “At that party. You were so confident.”

He laughed softly. “I was nervous as hell. But there was something about you, Y/N. I couldn’t stay away.”

“And now we’re here,” you murmured, your hand reaching out to his face, fingers tracing the line of his jaw.

“Yeah,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. “And I don’t want to be anywhere else.”

The temperature in the area seemed to rise, the air thick with anticipation. You knew that this was a turning point, a moment that would define whatever came next. And you were ready, ready to take that leap with San.

He takes your hand, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through you. “I don’t want to play games anymore. I need to know if this is real, if we’re real.”

You squeeze his hand, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. “It feels real to me, San. But it’s dangerous, you know that. With everyone watching us…” One mistake and a scandal could ruin both your careers.

San steps even closer, placing a finger under your chin to tilt your head back, his lips just inches from yours. “A little danger never scared me, Y/N. What scares me is not knowing what we could be.”

Your heart races as his words sink in. The air between you crackles with unspoken desire. “So, what do we do?”

His eyes darken with determination. “We take a chance. No more waiting, no more hiding.”

You nod, your decision made. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

San’s lips curve into a slow, confident smile. “Then come here.”

When you finally pull away at the interruption of the crowd's cheering when another group finished performing, both of you are breathless. San’s forehead rests against yours, his eyes closed in bliss. "Come over tomorrow?" he mumbled.

He pulls you into his arms, the world fading away as your lips meet in a kiss that’s been weeks in the making. The passion between you is undeniable, a fire that’s been waiting to ignite. You lose yourself in the moment, the taste of him, the feel of his body against yours. This was dangerous. This was scandalous.

And oddly, that's how you wanted it.

You didn't catch what he said. "Huh?"

Checking your appearance in your bathroom mirror one last time, you shoved your wallet, keys, and your phone into your bag. You switched your bedroom lights off before you tip-toed to your apartment door.

He moved to place a kiss below your ear. "Come over tomorrow night... my apartment," he whispered. "I'll pick you up."

"Going somewhere, honey?" you heard a familiar voice behind you, and you gasped in shock. "God! Maya, you scared me," you said to your fellow band mate and noticed she seemed to be going somewhere as well. "Where are you going?"

She giggled, "With you, of course." You raised an eyebrow. "I wanted to see Seonghwa, so he's coming with San to get us," she elaborates and you smirk at her. "Anyway, lets go, Y/N, they're here."

The two of you put your face masks and hats on before making your way downstairs to the parking lot.

"So you and Seonghwa... since when?" you ask and she blushes.

"Right before their Europe tour," you says and your eyes widened.

"That's like, what, five months now?"

She nodded. "We're keeping it secret. You and San are the only ones that know now."

The familiar black car came into view and you and Maya quickly got into the backseat. You greet both the boys and notice how Seonghwa's eyes sparkled when he saw Maya. You were genuinely surprised they managed to keep this a secret.

San began driving, and thankfully there was barely any traffic on the road, so you reached earlier than expected. The security system in this apartment complex was incredible, so you felt at ease.

The four of you made small conversation in the elevator when you reached, and as soon as you entered San's apartment, he was pulling you away to his room.

"There's cake in the fridge, Y/N," Seonghwa called out behind you. You yell out a quick thanks before San shut his bedroom door and pinned you against the door. He took your mask and hat off, tossing it aside on the little table by the door, his own mask following.

San placed his arms on the door on either side of you, trapping you in between his arms. "Hi," he says, dimples showing, causing butterflies to flutter in your stomach. God, you're so into him.

You chuckle, wrapping your arms around his neck. "You're so cute, Sannie," you say, pecking his lips. He giggles in response, returning a peck on your lips.

"What do you wanna do?" he asks, dragging you further in his room and making you sit down on his bed. San's room wasn't unfamiliar to you, having been here at least ten times already. You always loved how clean and tidy his room was, and how it was laced with his scent.

"Hmm, anything you want," you reply.

"How about a movie? Sounds good?" You nodded and San moved to get under the sheets, pulling you into his arms, putting the blanket over you both. He reached for the TV remote on his bedside table with one arm, while the other was still around you. You watched his arms flex, and you thanked god that he was wearing a tank top right now.

While he scrolled through the list of movies, you were stroking his arm, marveling at the bigger muscles. His bicep looked so juicy, you couldn't help the thought of wanting to bite it.

And your impulsive thoughts won.

Realizing what you did, you slowly turned to look at San who had an eyebrow raised at your actions. Before you could explain yourself, he moved to hover on top of you, capturing your lips with his own, kissing you hard. You arch your legs and pull him closer to you by his back so that he was now in between your legs, his chest pressed against yours. You moan softly when you felt his boner rub against your clothed clit.

The temperature seemed to be rising the more you kissed, and San pulled away to catch his breath— except, his way of catching his breath was trailing kisses from your lips to your neck.

"Look what you started," he whispered against your neck, placing open mouthed kisses, being very careful to not leave marks on your skin despite how desperately he wanted to.

He pulled away to look at you. "I was waiting for you to make the first move before I did," you say, your tongue poking out slightly to wet your lips, catching San's attention.

You moved your hands down the sides of his body, stopping at the waistband of his sweatpants. You slip a finger inside to hook it under the band of his underwear, pulling it away from his skin and then letting it go so that it slapped against his skin.

"Y/N," he starts, but you push him by the shoulder so his back was against the bed, and you straddle his lap. Your fingers grasp the ends of your t-shirt before you lift it up and over your head, tossing it to the floor. Your chest was covered by a lacey bra, and San could see the color of your nipples through it. You leaned down to kiss him, hungrier and hotter. His hands explored the exposed skin of your back while you slowly grinded on his hard cock, earning a low moan from him.

San sucked in a breath at your bold actions. He wanted you. He wanted you so bad. He's held himself back so much. The two of you still haven't crossed the line, keeping it strictly to making out.

And you wanted to change that. You wanted him just as much as he wanted you.

San's hand hovered over the hook of your bra, and he pulled away from the kiss to look at you. "Can I?" he asks and you instantly nod, letting him unhook your bra and toss it aside.

"God, you're so pretty," he says, leaning forward to place a kiss in the valley of your chest, and goosebumps erupted on your skin.

San trailed open mouthed kisses to your nipple, taking it in his mouth, tongue darting out to flick the bud, while one of his hands cupped your other boob, massaging it gently.

"San..." you moaned, hands moving to play with his hair while he repeated his actions on your other boob.

You rolled your hips back and forth on his hard cock and he pulled away to look at you with hooded eyes. "Y/N... baby, you're driving me crazy," he mumbles, his hands moving to the waistband of your sweatpants. "Tell me what you want, sweetheart."

"San, I want you," you moan when his hands at your waist press you down on him. "Fuck, I just... I need you right now, San. I want you to fuck me, fill me up with your cock." You wanted a little less conversation and a little more of him touching your body.

San flipped you onto your back and hovered over your body. "Are you sure, baby?" he asks and you hum in response. "Use your words, sweetheart."

"Yes, Sannie, please..." you beg and that was all it took for San to take your sweatpants off along with your panties, shedding his own clothes right after.

And god was naked San truly a marvelous sight. Your hands glided up his arms to his shoulders, before dipping down to his chest and then his hard abs. You maintained eye contact when your hand wrapped around his hard length, slowly pumping his cock.

Only for him to swiftly lay in between your legs, taking your clit in his mouth, his fingers still maintaining the same pumping pace. "What a pretty pussy," he compliments, sucking on your clit, "And it's all mine."

San sucked in a breath while his own hand moved to cup your pussy, his finger swiping along your slit to collect the wetness there, rubbing it on your clit for some lubrication. He leaned down to capture your lips with kiss while his finger moved on your clit in circular motions, your toes curling in the process.

After working on your clit, he finally slipped a finger inside your dripping hole, and you moaned at the stretch. He pumped his fingers to match the pace you kept while pumping his cock, and a second finger joined the first. The stretch made your hips buck up while you moaned, and you were starting to lose your senses. Your walls were practically sucking his fingers, and San pulled away from kissing you.

"San, fuck, please don't stop!" you moaned loudly, your thighs squeezed his head while he lapped at your clit, his wet tongue pressing harder on you. He hummed, the vibration giving you an extra push towards your building orgasm. You were so close to coming, and he seemed to notice that. His hand and tongue worked faster on you, and seconds later, you were releasing all over his fingers. He lapped at your throbbing clit once more before pulling his fingers out, sucking them clean, eyes closing at your sweet taste.

"Are you ready for me, sweetheart?" He asks, lining himself up with your wet entrance.

"W-wait San, let me..." you reached for his cock to return the favor, but he stopped you.

"No, baby, that's okay," he says softly with a smile. "I'll cum too quickly otherwise, and I'd rather cum in you. Is that okay, pretty girl?"

"Yes, Sannie..." He pumps his cock one more time before sliding his tip into your warm hole, sucking in a breath through his teeth.

"Fuck, Y/N, I'm not even fully in and you're already so fucking tight," he moans, slowing pushing himself fully in, finally crossing the line.

His cock stretched you out so well, and your eyes closed shut, your body feeling like it was on fire. You were clenching around his length, and San swore he was going to bust right then and there. He leaned down to kiss you softly. "I'm going to start moving, okay?" he whispered against your lips. Once you hum in approval, San goes back to kissing you while rolling his hips, pushing in and out of you in a steady, slow pace, wanting to take his time to familiarize the way you felt around his cock.

But you were growing slightly impatient. You pulled away from kissing him. "Sannie, baby, please... faster please..." you moan, and he chuckles in response. "Please, Sannie."

"So impatient," he murmurs and he goes even slower to tease you, making you whine.

And then he pushes hard into you, knocking the air out of your lungs before thrusting into you faster like you asked.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you cried out, clawing at the sheets beneath you. San's hands gripped the black headboard of his bed, his arm muscles tightly flexing. "God, it- it feels so good, fuck."

You feel the coil of pleasure get tighter in your stomach, and you could tell San was close too. "You're taking my cock so well, fuck, Y/N, you're so pretty," he says, and wets his thumb in his mouth before reaching down to rub your clit, all while maintaining his pace, and you felt your pussy spasm.

"Are you close baby?" he grunts, "You gonna cum all over this dick? Hmm?"

You tried to respond to him, but your words were all jumbled and incoherent. San rubbed faster on your clit, and the coil in your stomach finally snapped. Your orgasm hits you in waves, your body shaking beneath him.

"Such a good girl for me," he cooed, chasing his own high. "Hold on, sweetheart, I'm a-almost... almost there," San says, thrusting even faster before he groans, his cock pulsing, indicating that he came, his cum painting your walls white. He thrusts two more times to milk himself dry, before collapsing onto you, being careful to not put all his weight on you.

You stroke his back and he kisses your collarbone before pulling out and lying down beside you. The room was filled with the sound of both you breathing heavily, heartbeats moving at a rapid pace.

San got off the bed to get some wet wipes before he wiped your dripping pussy, and you whined when the tissue touched your sensitive clit.

"Are you okay, sweetheart?" San asks, a hint of concern in his voice.

"Hmm, sensitive," you mumble. "Can't feel my legs." He chuckles and leans down to kiss your head before disposing the wipes in his bathroom.

You got off the bed to head to the bathroom to pee and clean up a little more. While you were washing your hands, San wrapped his arms around you, turning you around to face him when you were done drying your hands on the hand towel. He gently pressed you against the sink, leaning in to kiss you oh so gently.

"I love you," you say against his lips. "I want to be with you, San."

"I love you too," he says, his heart swelling with happiness to finally hear the words he's been longing to hear. "I know you're scared, Y/N, and honestly I am too. This is dangerous and scandalous in our lives... but I love you a lot," he reaches out to cup your cheek, stroking your skin with the pad of his thumb. "We're humans before we're idols. We deserve to fall in love too. There's nothing I want more than to be your boyfriend, Y/N."

Tears well up in your eyes and you nod at his words. "I'd like that," you whisper, pulling him into a tight hug. San held you for a bit, whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

"How about we shower, and then I'll make you some ramen?" he suggests, and you instantly agree, not wanting to waste any precious time you have with him.

San smiles widely, his cute dimples popping out while he kisses you all over your face, and you've never felt happier before.

God, you were so into him. 

[blackenedsnow]

SHADOW X MOBIAN!READER REQUEST PLEASE

Here’s a funny fanfic idea, Shadow finds out his gf is an active 4chan member so he looks into 4chan to y’know bond with each other more but he finds the interesting content on the sites like When 4chan sent Taylor swift to a deaf kid school, when 4chan tried to send Justin biber to North Korea,Mlp rainbow dash jar,the time they hacked a website so the founder of 4chan would be the number 1 of time 100 etc etc

dark corners

WARNING: None

PAIRING: Shadow the Hedgehog x Reader

NOTE: LMAO. This was such a fun idea to write! Hope you enjoy!

SUMMARY: Shadow, in an attempt to bond with you, stumbles across 4chan.... He just wanted to understand his girlfriend more.

"What is this?" Shadow muttered, his brow furrowing as his eyes scanned the glowing screen in front of him.

He had never considered himself a tech-savvy hedgehog, but recently, he had become curious about something you had mentioned in passing—your involvement in 4chan. At first, it seemed harmless enough, just another strange part of the world he didn't quite understand. But after hearing you talk about it with a strange mix of excitement and amusement, he figured he'd give it a shot.

"I’m sure it’s just a place for people to talk and share ideas," he'd told himself confidently. "It’ll be easy to understand. I’ll know more about her. We’ll bond."

The moment he typed “4chan” into the search bar, he realized that things weren’t going to be as simple as he’d hoped. The first thing he clicked on was a post about Taylor Swift almost being sent to a deaf school. He blinked, rereading it. Did they really do that?

Curiosity gnawed at him. He clicked deeper.

Then there was the one about Justin Bieber almost being sent to North Korea. Shadow's face twisted into a scowl. "What is wrong with these people?"

And then there were the pictures. The ones with Rainbow Dash. In a jar. Shadow leaned forward, squinting at the screen as his mind struggled to process what he was looking at.

His thoughts grew more complicated as he kept scrolling, he found posts about hacking, pranks, and more absurdities. The chaos of it all was overwhelming. He was beginning to feel like he had made a grave mistake, thinking he could understand the appeal of this “4chan.”

"How does this have anything to do with her?" he muttered to himself, trying to make sense of it. "This is pure madness."

Later that evening, you walked into the room, your eyes lighting up when you saw Shadow at the desk.

“Hey, Shadow! What’s up?” you asked, casually flopping onto the couch.

Shadow looked at you, a little uncomfortable. “I… I did what you said. I looked at 4chan. I thought I might understand you better.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And?”

Shadow hesitated, trying to collect his thoughts. “I… I don’t think I understand anything anymore.” He ran a hand through his quills in frustration. “Why would people… Why do they even do these things?”

You blinked, your lips twitching into a smile as you tried to hold back laughter. “Oh, you found that stuff, huh?”

“Found it? I was bombarded by it.” Shadow slumped into the chair, exasperated. “How can you enjoy a place like this?"

You chuckled, sitting up and giving him a playful look. “Yeah, it’s definitely weird. But that’s kind of the fun of it. It’s like... the internet's version of a circus. Weird stuff happens, and we just roll with it.”

Shadow sighed, rubbing his temples. “I feel like I’ve entered an alternate dimension. How is this supposed to help me understand you more?”

You smiled warmly, moving over to sit beside him. "Psh, who cares! Just appreciate it."

Shadow raised an eyebrow. “Appreciating chaos…” He took another look at the screen. “I suppose I did learn that I can’t understand a single thing that happens here. But... I’m still willing to try.”

Your grin softened, and you gently took his hand. "Hey, if you find yourself getting lost, at least you know now why I laugh so hard at this stuff.”

Shadow sighed, looking at the screen again. “If I must… But if I see one more pony....jar.... I swear I’ll…” He trailed off, trying to think of a fitting threat. But he couldn’t help but let out a short laugh. Maybe this was something they could bond over.

[littlelamy]

hi!! i love ur works so far 🫶🏼 if ur taking requests could you do something with ceo rafe x anxious reader and him only being soft for her or something like that

hope you like it! ⭐️ you’d always heard about the cold, ruthless nature of ceo rafe cameron, the way he carried himself with an air of confidence that could intimidate even the most seasoned executives. yet, here you were, tucked away in a small corner of his office, nervously fidgeting with the hem of your blouse. today was the big day—you had to present your project to him and the board.

you took a deep breath, trying to calm the racing thoughts in your head. your anxiety always seemed to bubble up at the worst times, and now, as you sat in front of rafe, it felt as if the walls were closing in on you. his desk, polished and imposing, seemed to loom over you, amplifying your nerves.

rafe leaned back in his chair, a knowing smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “you look nervous,” he said, his tone surprisingly gentle. his blue eyes, often cold and calculating in the boardroom, softened when they landed on you.

“i’m fine,” you replied, your voice shaky.

he raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “you’re not fooling anyone, you know. just take a deep breath.”

you tried to follow his advice, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly. it helped a little, but you could still feel the tension coiling in your stomach.

“come on,” rafe said, his voice low and encouraging. “let’s practice. you can do this.”

you nodded, appreciating the way he’d shifted from his usual commanding presence to someone who genuinely wanted to help. rafe wasn’t just your boss; he was someone who seemed to understand your struggles in a way few others did.

as you began your presentation, your voice trembled, but rafe remained focused, leaning forward slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. he didn’t interrupt or critique; instead, he nodded along, offering you a reassuring smile that gave you the confidence to keep going.

“see? you’re doing great,” he said softly as you stumbled over a few words, his encouragement a balm for your frayed nerves. “just keep going.”

you glanced up at him, finding solace in his gaze. there was something so disarming about rafe in these moments, a stark contrast to the cutthroat businessman everyone else saw. you found yourself drawn to this softer side of him, the part that only seemed to emerge when it was just the two of you.

when you finished, you released a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. “was that okay?” you asked, anxiety creeping back in.

“more than okay,” rafe replied, standing up to walk around the desk. he leaned against it, closer to you now, his presence both intimidating and comforting. “you nailed it. you’re brilliant, you know that?”

the praise warmed your cheeks, and you could feel your heart fluttering in your chest. “thanks,” you murmured, not entirely sure how to respond to such kind words.

“and you don’t have to be nervous around me,” he added, his expression serious. “i’m not like the others. i want you to succeed.”

your heart swelled at his sincerity, and you felt a connection forming between you that you hadn’t anticipated. in this high-pressure environment, rafe’s kindness stood out like a beacon.

“really?” you asked, needing to hear it again.

“really,” he confirmed, moving closer. the distance between you felt charged, electric. “i care about you. i always have.”

you swallowed hard, your anxiety momentarily forgotten in the weight of his words. rafe cameron, the formidable ceo, was softening for you, and it made your heart race in a way that both thrilled and terrified you.

“do you want to go grab coffee after this?” he asked, his tone casual but his eyes searching yours. “i think you deserve a treat after your hard work.”

your stomach flipped at the idea, excitement mingling with your nervousness. “yeah, i’d like that.”

“great. now let’s get through this board meeting, okay?” he said, a playful smile on his lips. “and remember, i’m right there with you.”

as you moved to leave, rafe gently took your hand, pulling you close. you looked up at him, your heart pounding. he wrapped his arms around you, holding you tight as he rocked you gently from side to side. the warmth of his body against yours was grounding, easing your nerves in a way you hadn’t expected.

“you’re going to do amazing,” he whispered, his breath tickling your ear. and before you could fully register what was happening, he leaned down, capturing your lips with his in a soft, lingering kiss. it was sweet and tender, a promise that he would always be there for you.

when he pulled away, his eyes searched yours, filled with warmth and affection. “now, let’s show them what you can do,” he said, his confidence radiating off him as he led you toward the boardroom, hand in hand.

with rafe by your side, you felt emboldened, ready to face whatever came next. and as you walked together, his presence felt like a shield against your anxiety, a reminder that even in the cutthroat world of business, there could be moments of kindness and warmth.

as you entered the room, you caught rafe’s eye, and for a fleeting moment, you knew that no matter how tough things got, he’d always have your back.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @dinakisser @rafecameroninterlude

[caitified]

Hey! I love your fics and was wondering if you could do a Kate Martin fic where reader is insecure but Kate is obsessed with her and just loves her a lot

insecure

kate martin x reader

warnings:insecurities

you sat curled up on the couch, scrolling through social media while the sunlight streamed in through the window. your heart sank a little as you came across a post featuring your girlfriend, kate martin. the comments were overwhelmingly positive, praising her talent, looks, and magnetic personality. as you read through them, a familiar feeling of insecurity began to creep in.

you closed your phone, feeling a knot of unease tightening in your stomach. you loved kate deeply, but sometimes it was hard to shake the feeling that you weren’t enough for her, especially with all the attention she received.

just then, the door swung open, and kate stepped inside, her usual radiant smile lighting up the room. “hey, babe! i’m home!” she called, tossing her bag onto the floor.

“hey,” you replied, forcing a smile as you tried to mask your feelings.

“what are you up to?” she asked, walking over to you and wrapping her arms around your waist, pulling you close.

“oh, just scrolling through social media,” you said casually, hoping to divert her attention.

“anything interesting?” she asked, raising an eyebrow playfully.

you hesitated, the weight of the comments lingering in your mind. “not really. just the usual,” you replied, avoiding her gaze.

kate seemed to sense your discomfort. she pulled back slightly to look into your eyes, concern etched on her face. “you okay? you seem a little off.”

you bit your lip, feeling the knot in your stomach tighten. “it’s nothing, really,” you insisted, but even you could hear the uncertainty in your voice.

“come on, you know you can tell me anything,” she said softly, her fingers brushing against your cheek.

you sighed, finally deciding to open up. “i saw some comments online… about you. how pretty you are, how talented. it just made me feel… i don’t know, like i’m not enough for you.”

kate’s expression shifted from concern to understanding, and she cupped your face in her hands. “what? babe, that’s crazy. you are more than enough for me,” she said, her voice filled with warmth.

“but you’re this incredible athlete, and everyone loves you for it. i just feel like i’m… just me,” you admitted, your voice cracking slightly.

“you’re not ‘just you,’” kate insisted, her eyes intense with sincerity. “you’re amazing in so many ways. you make me laugh, you support me through everything, and you love me for who i am. that’s what matters.”

you felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes as her words washed over you. “it’s just hard to see you getting all this attention and not feel… inadequate,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper.

“i get it,” kate said, her thumb gently wiping away a tear that escaped. “but please don’t compare yourself to those comments. they don’t know you like i do. they see the athlete, the star, but i see the person who makes my world brighter.”

“you really mean that?” you asked, needing reassurance.

“more than anything,” she said, stepping closer and wrapping her arms around you tightly. “i choose you every single day, and that won’t change. you’re my heart, and i adore you.”

you melted into her embrace, feeling the warmth of her love surround you. “thank you for saying that,” you said, your voice muffled against her shoulder.

“you deserve to feel loved and valued, just like everyone says about me,” she said softly, pulling back to meet your gaze. “and just so you know, i think you’re the most beautiful person in the world, inside and out.”

you smiled, feeling the heaviness in your heart start to lift. “you really have a way of making me feel better,” you admitted, the corners of your mouth turning upward.

“that’s my job,” she replied, grinning. “now, how about we forget about social media and focus on us? let’s have a movie night. popcorn( or papcorn ifykyk ), blankets, the works.”

“that sounds perfect,” you said, your heart swelling with affection.

thanks for reading, requests open

[midnightwritingsessions]

TikTok troubles

Summary: When Lottie convinces you to join her in a TikTok prank, louis jumps into save you from Lottie unknowingly becoming the target.

A/N: thank you for 100 followers on this account!!

Masterlist

Requested

-

You hadn’t expected to spend your Saturday caught up in one of Lottie Tomlinson’s TikTok schemes, but here you were, sitting in her airy kitchen while she worked out the logistics of a new video. Being close with Louis meant spending time with his family, and luckily, you and Lottie got on like a house on fire. "Alright" Lottie said, setting her phone up on a tripod. Her mischievous grin gave you pause. "I’ve got an idea, but you have to trust me".

“That’s.. concerning” you teased, narrowing your eyes at her. “It’s harmless” she promised, brushing off your hesitation with a wave of her hand. “It’s that TikTok trend where I act like I’m being mean to you in front of Louis, just to see how he reacts. It’ll be brilliant, he’s so protective of you”. You laughed, already picturing Louis’s reaction. “He’ll probably pout like a child afterwards”. “Exactly” Lottie said, clapping her hands together. “It’ll be perfect to torture my brother. You in?” You thought about it for a second before nodding. “Alright, but if he sulks too much, you’re dealing with him”. Lottie grinned, pulling you into a side hug. “Deal”.

Ten minutes later, Louis wandered into the kitchen, fresh from his afternoon outing. His hair was slightly tousled, his cheeks pink from the crisp air. He smiled when he saw you, crossing the room to press a quick kiss to your temple. “Alright, what are you two up to?” he asked, his tone light but suspicious. “Just hanging out” Lottie said casually, grabbing her phone to start the recording. Louis raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Right. You two hanging out always ends up with me involved somehow”. You shot him an innocent smile. “You love it”.

He rolled his eyes but didn’t argue, leaning against the counter as Lottie aimed her phone discreetly. She gave you a subtle nod, signaling for you to start. “Honestly, Y/N” Lottie began, her tone suddenly sharp as she turned to you. “I don’t know why you picked that dress. It’s not really doing you any favors”.

You blinked, caught off guard despite knowing it was coming but immediately got into character. “What’s wrong with it?”. “It’s just… I don’t know, a bit much, don’t you think? Like, trying too hard” she said with a shrug. Louis’s eyes darted to Lottie, then back to you questioning lotties unusual harshness towards you. His brow furrowed slightly, but he said nothing, his lips pressing into a line. “I think it’s fine” you replied casually, playing along. “Fine?” Lottie scoffed. “Come on, Y/N. Fine isn’t good enough. You should try a bit harder. Maybe something that fits better?”

Louis’s posture stiffened, his blue eyes narrowing as he crossed his arms. “Lottie…” he said, a warning in his voice. “What?” Lottie said innocently, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “I’m just being honest. Someone has to tell her”. “Well, maybe don’t be so harsh about your opinions” Louis snapped. Lottie ignored him, turning back to you with a raised eyebrow. “And honestly, I don’t know why you bother wearing makeup like that. It’s a bit overdone, don’t you think? You don’t need that much”. “Lottie” Louis interrupted, his voice sharper this time. “You’re crossing a line”.

“Oh, relax” she said, waving him off. “I’m just trying to help her. Constructive criticism and all that”. “Constructive?” Louis scoffed, stepping closer to you. “That wasn’t constructive; that was rude”. Lottie smirked, but Louis didn’t notice as he turned to you, his hand brushing your arm. “You look beautiful” he said firmly, his tone softening. “Ignore her”. Before you could respond, Lottie pressed on. “I mean, maybe if she just did something different with her hair-”

“That’s enough” Louis said, his voice low but firm. He stepped fully in front of you now, shielding you as if you needed protection. His blue eyes flashed with irritation as he glared at his sister. “What’s wrong with you? You’ve never spoken to her like this before”. “It’s not that serious, Louis-”.“Not that serious?” he cut her off, his voice rising slightly. “You’re being horrible to her for no reason. If you’ve got a problem, say it to me, not to her”. At this, Lottie finally burst into laughter, unable to keep up the act any longer. “Oh my god, Louis” she gasped, doubling over. “You’re so easy to wind up”.

That was it- Lottie broke into laughter, doubling over as she waved her hand in surrender. You couldn’t help but join in, the sight of Louis’s confused and slightly affronted expression too much to handle. You let out a laugh too, though yours was more nervous as you placed a hand on Louis’s back. “It was a prank” you explained quickly. “She was filming for TikTok. It’s that trend where someone pretends to be mean to see how their sibling reacts”. Louis blinked, clearly stunned. His gaze flicked between you and Lottie before he narrowed his eyes. “Are you joking?”

Lottie, still laughing, nodded and picked up her phone to stop the recording. “You were brilliant, by the way. So protective. The internet’s going to love this”. “I’m so glad I could entertain everyone” Louis muttered, his tone dripping with sarcasm. He turned to you, his pout already forming. “And you went along with this?”. “I didn’t want to” you said with a grin, wrapping your arms around his waist. “But I knew you’d react just like that. You were amazing”. Louis’s pout deepened, though his arms came up to hold you anyway. “Don’t encourage her. Now she’s going to prank me every chance she gets”.

“Worth it” Lottie said from across the kitchen, still grinning as she reviewed the footage. Louis sighed dramatically, resting his forehead against yours. “You’re lucky I love you” he mumbled. “I know” you teased, pressing a kiss to his nose. “And I love you too, my knight in shining armour”. His lips twitched, the beginnings of a smile breaking through his sulk. “You’d better”.

“You were perfect” you added, kissing him softly. “Alright” he said, his smile finally winning out. “But no more pranks. I mean it”. Lottie snorted. “Sure, sure. No more pranks” she said, clearly lying. Louis groaned, but his hold on you tightened, his voice low in your ear. “At least next time, warn me, yeah?” You laughed, leaning into him as Lottie’s giggles filled the room.

[thewulf]

It Matters || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: Request - I was thinking of a jake x reader fic, were the reader believes her opinion doesn't matter because thats all she heard her entire childhood and once jake realizes that or she tells him he starts asking for her opinion, encouraging her to talk more and goes out his way to ask her stuff he already knows.

A/N: Shorty but a goodie. Thank you for the request!

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Word Count: 1,400k +

Jake stopped pushing the cart in front of him looking over the options the store had provided. When he couldn’t decide he turned to you who stood behind him waiting, “What do you think darlin’?” He asked hoping to bring you out of your thoughts you seemed to be stuck in.

You shook your head, “I don’t mind. You can pick what you want.” You gave him a reassuring smile as he looked over the boxed macaroni and cheese choices. He’d noticed it quickly but never said much about your aversion to deciding. It’s not that you couldn’t it’s that you were almost afraid to make the decision. Were you worried about making the wrong one? Were you afraid he’d be upset? Whatever it was he decided he needed to help. He didn’t want to press you but he wanted to see if he could try. So, if you couldn’t make a big decision he’d help you make smaller ones.

You watched as he grabbed two boxes before walking over to you, “I can’t decide. What do you think darlin’? White or sharp cheddar?” He held them up for you to take a look.

You shrugged, “I really don’t mind Jake.”

He smiled a touch, “But you have a preference, I know you do.”

“So do you.” You raised your eyebrows as if to challenge him. One of the things he’d quickly fallen for about you. As much as he loved how damn stubborn you were he didn’t enjoy when he was on the receiving end.

He shook his head, “Afraid I don’t sweetheart. Going to need you to decide. My brain’s fried. Mav’s got us doing all kinds of crazy shit in training.”

Your eyes lowered at him, “If I must. Let’s do the white cheddar.”

He smiled really big at that, “Now that wasn’t so hard was it darlin’?” His smirk that drove you mad, in a good way of course, came out.

“No.” You rolled your eyes before meeting his stride. Jake decided not to push any further at the store casually trying to get your opinion on things when he saw an opening. He adored everything about you and only wanted the best.

When it came time to settle in for the night you joined Jake on the couch. He scrolled through the endless catalogue of Netflix shows that seemed to going and going. He pulled you to his side right as you sat down on the couch wanting you by his side.

“Any show you want to start?” He asked without much thought. When you tensed up in his arms he knew there was something so much more than what you were letting on. Maybe it wasn’t his place to push but he truly just wanted to help.

You shook your head quickly, “Oh no, you can put on whatever you’d like.” You were watching the television and not him, so you didn’t notice the saddened look he was giving you. When the channel didn’t change for a moment to long you looked up to him.

“Why do you do that?” He asked with that same look.

Genuinely confused you just looked at him, “Do what?”

He gave you a tight squeeze knowing what he was about to do, pry into a part of your life you kept hidden for one reason or another, “You always deflect darlin’.” Short and sweet and to the point.

You creased your eyebrows in wonder, did you? You thought back on the last three months of dating him and you did exactly that. Had you always done that? You sat there in bemusement of your own account before you felt Jake’s gentle squeeze on your shoulder.

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or press you sweetheart. I just want to make sure you are alright?” It came out more of a question.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just… I guess I never really realized.” You bit down on your cheek processing his words. It dawned on you just how often you did this with everybody and everything. You were passive. Allowed people to walk all over you. It’s not like you had an awful childhood either, no, not in the slightest. You were just one of six children. Fourth in line and the third daughter. You were a joy but nothing more, nothing less. You weren’t special. You didn’t stand out from any of your brothers or sisters. You got average grades and did well in a few sports you ended up dropping out of. You were just kind of there. A secondary character in everybody’s lives.

It happened over time. You never had you opinion be known. You learned from an early age it was best to just sit down and shut the hell up. That way your mother wouldn’t tell you to shush, and your father wouldn’t throw an angry glare in your direction. It wasn’t just you they did this too. No, your entire family felt the ire of your parents desire. They wanted you to look the part of the happy little perfect family for all the pretentious faces of your city to see. That’s why you didn’t think anything of it. Your brothers and sisters were treated the same way. You weren’t really allowed to have an opinion on things. The concept felt eerily foreign to you.

To make matters worse you followed your father’s footsteps right into the military. The second you turned eighteen you enlisted in the Navy. You weren’t really allowed to have an opinion in this line of work too. It was best to do as you did before, sit down and shut up. Take the orders, do the job, and move on. That’s what you were good at. It’s like your father had trained you from a young age to act a certain way. But the curse turned to a blessing once you met Jake in flight school. You’d been fast friends for a long two years before he decided to make a move on you after the mission at Top Gun. He realized life was short and took the leap. And you were sure glad he did. You’d loved him from the moment you met him. You’d take him as friend or a lover. And you were rather thankful it was the former.

“Really?” He asked pressing his luck just a little further.

You nodded, “My father is military too. We were raised a certain way… very strict. We weren’t exactly allowed to voice our thoughts.” Not elaborating any further you tore your eyes away feeling a flush of embarrassment rip right on through you.

“You know that’s not right? It’s okay to have an opinion. I want you to have opinions! I want to make you happy.” You felt him wrap his arm around you waist giving it a gentle squeeze for some form of comfort.

“I just didn’t think it mattered. My voice never mattered.” You whispered feeling awfully vulnerable as his eyes bore into your side.

He answered quickly, “It matters. Darlin’ your voice matters so much, okay?”

“Okay.” You nodded, “I can’t… I can’t guarantee I’ll be perfect though Jake. I’ve never had a say. It’s always been told to me. I’m so sorry.”

He grabbed your chin and gently lifted it to look at him. It was agonizing to watch the inner turmoil from your head play out in front of him, “Please don’t apologize. I understand. And if I don’t I’ll try too. I want you to know how much I love you darlin’. I care about what you think. I want to get and do things that make you happy too.”

Your eyes went wide just as his did, “You love me?” He’d never said it out loud before, but he’d loved you for a long time, long before you’d been dating.

“I do.” He nodded knowing he wasn’t going to back out of it. He’d refrained from saying it so he wouldn’t scare you away really. He would’ve told you the night of your first date had he known you wouldn’t have run away. But he knew you. Knew how timid you could be about relationships and feelings. He’d watch you from afar as you tiptoed around these kinds of things in the past.

“That’s good.” You nodded not letting your eyes break from his.

You felt a rumble from his chest and heard a laugh bubble up, “Is that so?”

“Yeah.” You grinned.

“And why’s that?” He pressed as his lips inched closer to yours.

“Because I love you too.” It was almost silent as closed the distance between the two of you. The kiss was different. A little more passionate. Filled with a touch more understanding. He smiled when he pulled back studying your sweet face. He’d successfully knocked another block down from the wall that was slowly crumbling down at his efforts.

Jake Seresin/Top Gun: Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!): @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @mamachasesmayhem

[smystermy]

𝐤𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐨𝐬

tags: geto suguru x you; gojo satoru x you; set before the star plasma vessel incident; senpai x kouhai; first meetings; “koi no yokan” (literally, 'premonition of love'); you've been childhood friends with gojo and utahime.

warnings: Love Triangle. she/her pronouns have been used for the reader.

word count: 1922.

oneshot, loosely related to 'peel your heart like a pomegranate'.

The first time Geto Suguru meets you in person, it’s on a quiet, cloudy afternoon at the edge of a cursed village.

He’s seen you before, yes, though only in passing—fleeting moments that didn’t really give him the chance to form an impression. There was that one time you trailed behind Gojo with a lazy smile, hands tucked casually in your pockets, letting him do all the talking. Another, when he saw you quickly swept away by Utahime, who muttered something about not having time for your “backtalk today.”

Those moments had been brief, however, no more than glimpses of who you were. This, though—this is different. This is the first time he’s going to meet you properly.

Although, Gojo has made it impossible for you to be anything but familiar already.

“She’s insane, Suguru,” Gojo had said once, sprawled on the steps of the school’s courtyard, his arms flung dramatically over his head. “I mean, precision doesn’t even begin to describe her. She’s like... like someone who’s been fighting curses for decades, not someone who’s just fifteen. No hesitation, no wasted movement—it’s kind of beautiful to watch.”

Geto had snorted, tilting his head at the exaggerated praise. “Beautiful? You sound smitten.”

“No, no, it’s not like that.” Gojo sat up quickly, a rare flush creeping up the back of his neck. “I just mean... well, okay, yeah, she’s beautiful too. But not in that obvious, in-your-face way. It’s more like... you notice her once, and then you can’t stop noticing her. Every time you look, it’s like she’s just... prettier somehow. And it’s not fair, because she doesn’t even have to try.” He waved a hand helplessly, as if the words were stuck on the tip of his tongue. “It’s like... everything about her just fits. Like it was always supposed to be that way.”

Geto had raised an eyebrow at him, amused. “So now you’re a poet?”

“Shut up, Suguru. I’m just saying, she’s... something else, okay?” Gojo’s voice had turned soft near the end, the kind of softness he rarely let anyone hear.

It was then that Geto knew: Gojo was a goner, even if he didn’t realize it himself.

Utahime, for her part, had offered her own take, though hers was more grounded.

“She’s blunt as hell,” she’d said one evening while grading papers, her tone filled with fond exasperation. “The kind of girl who’ll tell you exactly what she thinks, whether you’re ready to hear it or not. It’s refreshing at first, but after the third or fourth time, you start to wonder if she’s ever heard of tact.” She paused, tapping her pen against the table. “Still, she’s got this weird way of making up for it. Like, she’ll say something sharp and then do something thoughtful, like making tea or apologizing in the most awkward way possible.”

Geto had smiled at that. “Sounds like she keeps you on your toes.”

“She does,” Utahime had admitted with a small laugh. “But honestly? It’s hard not to like her. She’s a pain in the ass, but she’s got heart. She reminds me of an annoying little sister—the kind you complain about but would still fight for without question.”

Between Gojo’s glowing admiration and Utahime’s begrudging fondness, Geto had formed a picture of you in his mind. A sharp, confident girl with no patience for pretense, someone who could command a room without even realizing it. But standing here now, watching you from a distance, he realizes that picture doesn’t quite capture you.

You’re leaning against a crumbling torii gate, arms loosely crossed as Haibara recounts a story, gesturing animatedly. Nanami stands nearby, his expression unreadable as usual, but there’s a subtle shift in his posture that suggests he’s listening.

“You’re calling me too critical now?” you say, your tone sharp but edged with playful defiance. “I’m just saying, you wouldn’t have ended up on your face if you’d dodged faster. It’s not that hard.”

Haibara groans, but his grin stays firmly in place. “Easy for you to say! You didn’t have a cursed spirit throwing rocks at you!”

“Because I was busy dealing with the other three,” you retort, shrugging one shoulder. “What, you want me to do everything for you?”

Nanami sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You could’ve at least warned him about the second curse.”

“I’m not a babysitter,” you reply matter-of-factly. Then, with a crooked smile that softens the bluntness of your words, you add, “Besides, he survived. Didn’t you, Haibara?”

Haibara laughs, and even Nanami exhales a quiet breath that might almost be a chuckle.

Geto lingers for a moment, observing.

You look younger than he had imagined, yet there’s an unpolished ease to the way you carry yourself—a confidence that feels entirely genuine. You’re sharp, just as Gojo and Utahime had described, but there’s an undeniable warmth that follows you, slipping through in the curve of your smile or the quick wit of your jokes.

Finally, he steps forward, making his presence known. “Looks like everyone’s warmed up,” he says, his voice cutting cleanly through the conversation.

All three of you turn to look at him, but it’s your reaction that draws his attention.

Your eyes meet his, and for a brief moment, your expression freezes—a fleeting pause, like something inside you has stirred, but you can’t quite pinpoint what. It’s subtle, almost imperceptible, but Geto notices: the slight softening of your sharp gaze, the way your stance shifts, almost imperceptibly, as though you’re recalibrating yourself.

“Geto Suguru,” he says, his voice calm but commanding as he offers a polite smile. “I’ll be leading this mission.”

“Oh,” you reply, almost under your breath, a touch of surprise in your voice. It’s as if you weren’t expecting him to look the way he does or sound as he does. For just a second, you seem caught off guard—like something about him doesn’t align with your expectations.

But then, just as quickly, you regain your usual composure. “Right. Good to meet you, Geto-senpai.”

Your voice is steadier now, but something in it has changed—softer, maybe, though not in an overly obvious way. It’s the kind of change that lingers just beneath the surface.

Geto notices the way your eyes brush over him, subtly studying the way his sleeves shift as he folds his arms, the ease in his stance as he surveys the group. You don’t seem aware of it, but there’s an undeniable attention in the way your gaze lingers—faint, persistent, like a shadow that follows his every move.

The mission begins shortly after, and if Geto had any doubts about your abilities, they’re quickly put to rest.

From the moment the first cursed spirit appears, you’re in motion—sharp, precise, as if the battlefield is an extension of you. Every strike lands with pinpoint accuracy, every technique executed with the kind of fluidity that comes only from years of practice. There’s no hesitation, no wasted effort. Gojo’s words echo in his mind: "She’s incredible. You should see her fight."

And Geto finds himself in full agreement. You move like it’s second nature, almost instinctual, and he watches in quiet admiration. Gojo wasn’t lying about that, not for a second.

But what surprises him more, what makes him lean in even closer to the scene, is the way you carry yourself during the battle. You’re fierce, no doubt—but you’re not reckless. No impulsive moves, no brashness. It’s as if you’re constantly measuring your energy, reserving your focus for the most critical moments. Your blunt personality is evident in your style: no unnecessary flourishes, no grand gestures. Every motion is deliberate, calculated—a perfect blend of raw skill and careful control. It’s not flashy—it’s effective. And Geto can’t help but respect that.

What catches his attention, though, is the subtle, almost imperceptible way you keep glancing at him in between moments of combat.

It’s not often, but it’s there—when you’re taking a breath, when you’re regrouping after a fight. Your eyes flick in his direction, lingering for a fraction of a second too long. At first, Geto wonders if it’s just a coincidence, but as the mission wears on, he realizes it’s deliberate.

It’s not the wary, calculating gaze of someone sizing up a threat. Nor is it the casual curiosity of a teammate just checking in. No, it’s something else—something deeper. Your gaze holds a kind of quiet intensity, as if you’re trying to understand something about him, something you can’t quite put into words yet. Geto can’t place it, but there’s a pull in it, an awareness of him that feels... different. And it catches him off guard each time.

The mission concludes soon after, and with it, the weight of the battle begins to lift from the air, even though its remnants still linger.

Nanami is discussing the finer details of the exorcism with precision, analyzing what went well and what could have been sharper, his tone professional. Haibara, on the other hand, is cracking jokes—his laughter a welcome contrast to the grim task they just finished. His voice is easy, his energy infectious, and for a moment, the tension of the mission seems a distant memory.

You, however, stand a little off to the side, slightly closer to Geto than to the others. It doesn’t seem to be a deliberate distance, though; more like a quiet choice on your part, as if giving the moment time to settle inside you. You don’t seem upset, just... reflective.

Your usual sharpness is tempered, and Geto notices the subtle tension in the way you adjust your gloves, the way your fingers fiddle with the fabric—something that feels unlike you. Normally so direct, you seem quieter now, your focus turned inward, as if trying to channel the lingering energy of the fight into something more.

He wonders, though, if your mind is still locked in battle mode, processing what just happened, or if something else is at play—something that hasn’t quite settled for you. He watches for a beat longer, noticing the way your eyes flick to him before quickly darting away—

“You did well today,” Geto says, his voice low but purposeful, drawing your attention. He glances down at you, a rare softness in his tone, which he quickly masks with his usual calm demeanor.

You look up at him, blinking as though his words caught you by surprise, as if you hadn’t been expecting him to speak directly to you, or maybe... something else.

For a brief moment, there’s a flicker in your eyes—a shift that only lasts a second—but it’s enough for Geto to notice. Then, just as quickly, you shake it off, nodding in response with a faint smile tugging at your lips. “Thanks, Senpai. You too.”

He chuckles softly, amused by the sincerity in your voice, your straightforwardness that never seems to waver, even when it’s softened by something else. It’s not a display of emotion—just simple acknowledgment, honest and to the point. There’s no pretense, no artifice, and it’s one of the things Geto appreciates about you. It feels real, grounded in something genuine.

As the team prepares to head back, though, something about you continues to linger in Geto’s mind. It’s a feeling he can’t quite name, something that tugs at the edge of his thoughts. Quiet, subtle, like a whisper he can’t quite catch, but it’s there…

As you walk ahead with Haibara and Nanami, laughing at something one of them said, Geto finds himself watching you more intently than he expects—all the while wondering why.

general masterlist || geto suguru masterlist || gojo satoru masterlist

[brainddeadd]

Luke knew. Jack could deny it all he wanted, but his little brother saw right through him. It wasn’t even subtle anymore—the way Jack’s eyes would follow you when you entered the room, how he’d perk up the second you texted him, or how he’d get weirdly defensive anytime someone else so much as mentioned your name.

And now, sitting in the living room at the Hughes' summer house, Luke was ready to call him out.

You had just left the room to grab snacks from the kitchen, your laugh still lingering in the air. Jack was sitting slouched on the couch, trying to play it cool, but the way his leg bounced nervously gave him away. Luke watched his brother with a knowing grin, waiting for the right moment.

“So…” Luke started casually, glancing over at Jack. “You really gonna keep pretending you don’t like her?”

Jack’s head snapped toward him, feigning confusion. "Whaaaaattt? I don’t like Y/N," he said, dragging the denial out in the most unconvincing way possible. He folded his arms across his chest, sitting up straighter like that would sell the lie.

Luke rolled his eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn’t get stuck. "Yeah, and I don’t breathe oxygen."

Jack scowled. "I don’t! We’re just friends."

"Sure," Luke said sarcastically, leaning back in his chair. "Because everyone stares at their friends like they’re the greatest thing in the world."

"I don’t stare at her!" Jack shot back, but his cheeks were already turning pink.

"You do," Luke said smugly. "You literally go full heart-eyes every time she talks. It’s embarrassing."

Jack groaned, dragging his hands down his face. "She’s your friend, dude. It’d be weird."

Luke snorted. "No, what’s weird is how you act like a lovesick puppy and think nobody notices." He paused, smirking. "Just ask her out already. You're not as slick as you think."

Before Jack could respond, you came back into the room, a bowl of popcorn in hand. "What’s going on?" you asked, glancing between the two brothers.

"Nothing," Jack muttered quickly, giving Luke a sharp look that screamed shut up or I’ll kill you.

Luke, of course, just grinned. "Oh, nothing important. Just talking about how Jack thinks you're—"

"LUKE!" Jack cut him off, wide-eyed and panicking.

You raised an eyebrow, confused but amused. "Thinks I’m what?"

Luke bit back a laugh, pretending to zip his lips. "Nothing. I'll let Jack fill you in later."

Jack groaned again, slumping back against the couch, while you sat down beside him, entirely entertained by the whole thing. Luke shot his brother one last smug grin.

"Good luck, lover boy."

[lysarddd]

Mistletoe Mishap

✰ : WARNINGS: None! just pure fluff as we enter the Christmas Holidays! ✰ : PAIRINGS: Gn!Reader x Luka (Alien Stage) ✰ : AU: Actor AU!

⋆.˚ ★—

The cast party was in full swing, the studio transformed into a cozy wonderland of Christmas cheer. String lights twinkled along the walls, festive music hummed in the background, and the warm scent of cinnamon and pine filled the air. Luka stood near the snack table, casually sipping cider, his eyes occasionally flicking toward the other side of the room where you were deep in conversation with one of the casting members.

He wasn’t sure why he felt this weird fluttering in his chest every time you laughed, or why he felt like he couldn’t stop glancing in your direction. Maybe it was because you had this calm aura about you, a rare kind of confidence that came from a place of genuine kindness. No matter who you were talking to, you always made them feel heard, like they mattered. He admired that about you, maybe more than he cared to admit.

“Luka!” A familiar voice cut through his thoughts. Turning, he saw two of the other cast members, both brunettes, standing nearby with mischievous smiles plastered on their faces.

“Come here for a sec!” one of them called, her voice dripping with playful intrigue. Luka hesitated for a moment, throwing one last glance toward you. He didn’t know why, but there was something about the way you were laughing at something that had been said that made his heart beat a little faster.

He pushed the thought aside and walked toward the doorway where the crew had gathered. The group, sensing an opportunity for mischief, had clearly been planning something. Luka hadn’t noticed the subtle shuffle and the way they were positioning him.

Just as he walked through the doorway, he noticed a sudden shift in the energy around him. He froze, eyes widening when he realized they had lured you into their little scheme as well. Above your heads, dangling innocently from the doorframe, was a sprig of mistletoe, tied with a red ribbon. Luka’s face immediately flushed a deep crimson.

“Oh.. God...” Luka muttered under his breath, running a hand through his hair, completely caught off guard.

You looked up, following Luka’s gaze, and raised an eyebrow as the mischievous smile spread across your face. "Really? Mistletoe?" you asked, your voice a blend of amusement and slight disbelief.

The crew erupted into laughter, as the crew begun to cheer, egging the situation on. Luka stood there, rooted to the spot, feeling his face burn hotter by the second.

“You know what? Instead of the usual ‘kiss under the mistletoe,’” you said smoothly, your calm demeanor cutting through the laughter like a knife, “why don’t we just exchange compliments instead? What do you think, Luka?”

Luka blinked at you, his mouth opening and closing for a moment before he chuckled. His usual nerves were still there, but something about you made it easier to play along. "Compliments, huh?" he said, his lips curling into a slightly more relaxed smile. “Yeah, okay, that works.”

The crew groaned in mock disappointment, but they slowly dispersed, leaving the two of you standing alone under the mistletoe. Luka stood a little taller now, the awkwardness fading away with your lighthearted approach to the situation.

“So, you first,” you said, crossing your arms lightly over your chest. Your expression was playful, yet sincere, and it made Luka feel like he could relax for the first time that evening.

He scratched the back of his neck, but his smile was easy as he met your gaze. “Alright, well... I think you're pretty amazing. You’re always so composed and kind, no matter what. And, you make everything look effortless, but I know that takes a lot of hard work. You’re genuinely cool, and everyone looks up to you for a reason.”

Your smile softened as you looked at him. There was a quiet warmth in your eyes, and Luka felt his nerves dissipate just a little more. “Thank you, Luka. That’s really sweet of you to say.”

Now it was your turn, and you tilted your head slightly, taking a moment to consider your words carefully. Luka raised an eyebrow, waiting. “I think you’re incredibly talented, even if you don’t always see it. You’ve come a long way, and it’s been impressive to watch you grow, both as an actor and as a person. You’ve got a lot of heart, Luka. And,” you added with a teasing glint in your eyes, “you’ve got excellent taste in sweaters.”

Luka glanced down at the ridiculous Christmas-themed sweater he was wearing—bright red with a cartoon reindeer tangled up in twinkling string lights. His face lit up with a mix of self-consciousness and laughter. “Well, uh... thanks, I guess? It was a gift.”

You chuckled, the lightness in the air making it feel like the moment had shifted entirely. Luka felt comfortable now—less like he was being pulled into something he wasn’t prepared for. The tension that had been there earlier was gone, replaced by a genuine connection between the two of you.

Then, as if on a whim, you reached up and plucked the mistletoe from above your heads, twirling it between your fingers before tucking it into Luka’s sweater pocket. “Just in case someone else tries to ambush you,” you said with a wink. “Merry Christmas, Luka.”

He blinked, the mistletoe warm in his pocket as he stared at you, suddenly feeling like the air had thickened with an unexpected charge. “M-Merry Christmas, [Name],” he stammered, his hand instinctively brushing over the spot where the mistletoe now rested, as if it had the power to ground him in some way.

Before he could process much further, you leaned in and placed a light, playful kiss on his cheek. Luka froze, completely caught off guard. His entire body stiffened, his heart racing as his face burned a shade of red so bright it could rival the Christmas lights hanging around the room. The room had fallen into a strange silence as your laughter rang out, light and musical.

“Consider that part of the tradition,” you teased with a mischievous smile, stepping back. “Have a good night, Luka.”

Luka stood frozen in place, one hand still hovering over the spot where your lips had just been, the rush of warmth and the weight of the moment settling in. He blinked, trying to wrap his head around what had just happened, but the goofy smile spreading across his face gave away his thoughts.

He wasn’t sure how long he stood there, but the chaos of the party continued around him, fading into the background as he brushed a hand over his cheek once more. The mistletoe in his pocket felt like a strange token now, but somehow, he didn’t mind it. Not one bit.

⋆.˚ ★—

✰ : a/n: kinda ooc? Idk how actor Luka acts crying emoji If this doesn't flop I'm taking requests :p

[rispwr]

⋆˙⟡ step by step #5 ❤︎ m.list

note : this is not a love triangle i promise

contents : jk wearing a black button up, kinda the start of the drama, oc stubborn and indenial again, bad words, he calls her a naughty girl, no sex for now, oc finally softening up to him

wc : 1k?

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

I closed my phone, a satisfied smile creeping onto my face as I adjusted the weight of the shopping bags in my hands. five on each side, the perfect haul. What can I say? Shopping is a woman's way to relieve stress!

 Well, at least it's my way.

Slipping my phone into my pocket, I walked out of the mall and waited on the curb for Jungkook.

And then I saw him.

A sleek Toyota Corolla pulled up in front of me, and Jungkook stepped out in a fitted black button-up, dark trousers, and a sweater casually draped over his neck. The shirt was just tight enough on his arms to show off his big biceps, flexing slightly as he adjusted the sweater hanging around his shoulders.

He looked effortlessly put together.... Did he really go to work like this? No wonder his students were practically an Aria Montgomery wanna-be trying hard to get his attention.

The thought of Jungkook and his students made me irk in a way I didn't want to admit. It planted a seed of irritation deep in my chest, one that could easily fester into me being mad at him for no reason all week.

But even so, it was irrelevant. Illegal, even. Jungkook was mine, 

well, not mine- but still! 

Mine enough that the thought of anyone else made my blood simmer.

do i love him? why am i even feeling like this?

Before I could spiral further into that ridiculous thought, he walked toward me, his expression calm but with that little crease in his brow that said he was mildly annoyed.

Without a word, he took the shopping bags from my hands, carrying them effortlessly to the trunk before returning to me. His hand rested on my arm as he helped me into the passenger seat.

He sighed audibly as he closed the door, rounding the car to get in the driver's side. I could already sense the lecture coming.

----

Once we were settled in the car, he glanced at me briefly before speaking. "Okay, now who's the idiot that brought you to the mall and then left you all by yourself?"

I bit my lip, avoiding his gaze. "Are you gonna be mad...?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Depends, Y/N."

Y/N? The sudden shift to my full name made me wince slightly.

"Ugh, fine," I groaned. "It was Jimin. He came shopping with me to bond because we haven't seen each other for a week."

Jungkook hummed in acknowledgment, his grip tightening slightly on the steering wheel. "Did you have fun?"

"Of course! I got new sets—" I stopped mid-sentence, my eyes widening as I slapped a hand over my mouth.

But it was too late.

A knowing smirk tugged at the corner of Jungkook's lips. "New sets, huh? Are you gonna do a haul?"

I narrowed my eyes at him, my cheeks flushing. "Maybe, if you're lucky."

Before he could say something else teasing, my phone buzzed in my pocket. Fishing it out, I glanced at the screen and frowned slightly before answering.

"Oh yes? Hello?"

"Hi, hello!" a smooth voice greeted on the other end. "This is Min Yoongi, your new boss. A co-worker gave me your number, and I wanted to ask if you could send me the files later?"

My heart dropped.

"Hello? Are you there?" Yoongi asked again, his voice tinged with confusion.

"Oh- uhm, yes, of course, I'm still here, boss," I stammered, my throat suddenly dry. "I'll, uh, send it to you via email later."

As I finished speaking, the traffic light ahead turned red, and the car slowed to a stop. Jungkook glanced at me, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly as he picked up on my nervous tone.

"Alright then," Yoongi continued, his tone light. "I'll let you go. And hopefully, your ankle gets better soon."

There was a pause, a silence that felt loaded before he ended the call.

I lowered the phone from my ear, sliding it back into my pocket, my fingers fidgeting.

"Who was that?" Jungkook asked, his tone casual but with a slight edge that only someone who knew him well could detect.

"Oh- uh, it's just my boss," I said quickly, avoiding his gaze.

His brow twitched slightly, but he didn't press further.

As the car rolled forward again, Jungkook couldn't shake the unease bubbling in his chest. He could tell by the way you'd tensed up during the call, the slight shake in your voice, that there was more to it than just a work-related request.

And when you brushed it off with a quick "just my boss," something about it didn't sit right with him.

Maybe it was nothing. Maybe he was overthinking. But Jungkook had learned over the years to trust his gut, and right now, it was telling him there was a lot more to this "boss" than you were letting on.

He tightened his grip on the wheel, his mind racing. He wasn't going to pry, not yet, anyway. He'd wait until you were ready to tell him.

But deep down, a bitter thought lingered: what if this was someone who could pull you away from him? Again.

------

We got back to my apartment, and Jungkook carried all the shopping bags inside like they weighed nothing. Meanwhile, I hobbled behind him, carefully maneuvering on my crutches.

As soon as he set the bags down by the door, I let out a squeal. "Haul time, baby!!" I cheered, making my way toward the couch as slowly and dramatically as possible.

But before I could settle myself down, Jungkook was already there. Dropping the shopping bags, he came over to help me, his strong hands steadying me as I eased onto the couch.

"Have you eaten yet?" he asked, his tone shifting from playful to serious.

blah blah, proper name, backstory stuff

His words caught me off guard for a moment. It was so... him. Always making sure I was okay before anything else.

I looked up at him, his black button-up slightly unbuttoned at the top, and my mind drifted—again. It wasn’t my fault that the shirt clung just right to his biceps, and now, with him leaning down toward me, it only made things worse.

The way he carried himself always left me reeling. Jungkook had that mix of soft care and hard control, and the two were colliding right now in the most dangerous way.

As if to punish me for staring too long, Jungkook’s fingers moved to the buttons of his shirt. He undid them slowly, exposing the toned lines of his chest as he stood in front of me.

My core clenched at the sight, and I swallowed hard, trying to keep my composure.

His dark eyes flickered to mine, his lips curling into a teasing smirk. "Eyes up here, lady," he said, reaching down to tilt my chin upward with two fingers.

The position we were in right now… My knees were practically brushing against his legs, his body towering over mine. If I wanted to, I could lean forward, pull him closer, and suck him off right here, right now.

"I-I… no," I stammered, completely forgetting what he’d even asked me.

Jungkook’s smirk deepened as he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, tilting his head slightly. He leaned down, closing the already too-small gap between us. His voice dropped lower, more gravelly, sending a shiver through my spine.

"You… naughty girl," he murmured.

I felt my breath hitch as he leaned in further, his lips brushing against mine. My eyes fluttered shut instinctively, my lips parting in anticipation of the kiss that was sure to leave me melting into the couch.

But he stopped.

The distance between our faces was so close it was maddening, but instead of the deep, passionate kiss I was expecting, he pressed the softest, quickest peck to my lips.

When I opened my eyes, I was met with his smug grin. "I’ll go feed you first," he said, pulling back and straightening up. "You wait here."

And just like that, he walked away, leaving me hot, bothered, and completely embarrassed.

I scoffed, crossing my arms as I glared at his retreating figure. The sight of him heading to the kitchen with his shirt still slightly unbuttoned only made it worse.

"Jeon Jungkook," I muttered under my breath, my eyes narrowing in frustration.

I couldn’t tell if I wanted to strangle him or pull him back into the room and demand he finish what he started. Probably both but i can't anyway cause i can't walk. 

[iovebarca]

hi my love!!! i hope ur doing well 💗 i was just wondering if you could maybe do a fluffy tutoring fic with pau x reader? either where reader is tutoring him or he’s tutoring reader. thank you sm!! 💌

Maps, Dates and Crushes - Pau Cubarsi

Authors note: Hey guysss how are we doing??

WC: 1000+

warnings: incorrect grammar (probably), my first language isn't english so if you notice any mistakes please tell me, fluff!

Geography class wasn’t exactly Pau’s strong suit. He was a quick learner on the field, but when it came to memorizing capitals, mountain ranges, and river systems, his brain felt like it was running in circles. That’s exactly why he found himself in this situation: tutoring sessions.

His geography teacher had noticed his struggle and decided to step in.

“Pau, you’ll be working with her,” the teacher had said, nodding towards you. You were the top student in class—smart, confident, and the one who always had the right answers. The girl he’d had a quiet crush on for months but never dared to talk to.

And now, you were his tutor.

It was a dream and a nightmare all at once. On one hand, he’d get to spend time with you, but on the other… well, you’d soon find out just how bad he was at geography.

The first study session was planned for Thursday evening at your house. You had texted him, “Come around six. We’ll get you caught up.”

Pau stood in front of your door at 6 p.m. sharp, trying not to let his nerves show. You opened the door with a smile, dressed in an oversized sweater and leggings, looking effortlessly beautiful. He almost forgot to breathe for a second.

“Hey, come in,” you greeted, stepping aside to let him in. “We’ve got a lot to cover, but don’t worry, we’ll pace it out.”

He followed you inside, trying to calm the nervous flutter in his stomach. Your home was cozy and inviting, which helped ease the tension in his shoulders. You led him to the dining table, already covered with textbooks, notebooks, and maps.

“Alright, let’s start with the basics,” you said, flipping open the geography textbook. “We’ve got time.”

The next two hours flew by in a blur of maps, highlighters, and your explanations. Pau tried to focus, but it was hard not to get distracted by how effortlessly smart and confident you were. You made geography seem easy, breaking down complex ideas in a way he could actually understand.

At 8:30, you paused, leaning back in your chair. “Okay, we’ve made good progress. How about a break?”

“Yeah, I could use one,” Pau admitted with a sheepish grin.

You reached for your phone, casually pulling up Uber Eats. “What do you feel like eating? I was thinking burgers and fries. Or is that too risky for your diet?”

Pau chuckled, caught off guard by how thoughtful you were. “I mean, I am supposed to be watching what I eat for football…”

You raised an eyebrow, teasing him a little. “So, no burgers then?”

He hesitated for a second, then grinned. “I think I can handle a burger. Just this once.”

You smiled back, happy with his answer. “Good, because there’s no way I’m surviving this study session without fries.”

You placed the order, and soon enough, the two of you were digging into your food while talking about everything other than geography. It was surprisingly easy to fall into a rhythm with Pau—he wasn’t just the quiet, shy guy you saw in class. He had a sense of humor, and when he relaxed, you found that you really liked talking to him.

By the time you finished eating and went back to studying, it was almost 10 p.m. Pau tried his best to stay focused, but you noticed him sneaking glances at you every so often. The way his gaze would linger on you for just a moment too long made your heart race.

And that’s when it hit you. He likes me.

Your own heart fluttered at the realization. Maybe it was the way his voice softened when he asked you questions or the way his eyes sparkled whenever you smiled at him. Suddenly, the idea of this being a simple tutor-student situation felt a lot more complicated—and a lot more exciting.

By 11 p.m., the study session was winding down. You had gone through most of the material, and Pau seemed a lot more confident than when he had first walked in. He started packing up his books, but there was a hesitancy in the air, like he wasn’t quite ready to leave.

“Well,” you said, standing up and stretching, “I think you’re going to ace the next test. You’ve really improved, Pau.”

“Thanks to you,” he said with a shy smile, slinging his bag over his shoulder. He lingered by the door for a moment, his fingers nervously fidgeting with the strap of his backpack.

There was a long pause, the silence between you charged with something unspoken. You could feel it hanging in the air.

“So, um…” Pau began, his voice low, “I was wondering if… maybe you’d like to go out sometime?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Like… a study date?”

Pau’s face turned a little red, and he quickly shook his head. “No, not a study date. I mean, like, an actual date. Just… the two of us.”

Your heart skipped a beat, the realization hitting you all at once. Pau Cubarsí—quiet, sweet Pau—was asking you on a real date.

A slow smile spread across your face, warmth flooding your chest. “You want to go on a real date with me?”

He nodded, his eyes soft but hopeful. “Yeah, I do. If you want to, I mean.”

“I’d love that,” you said, feeling your cheeks flush with excitement. “How about this weekend?”

“That’d be perfect,” he replied, his whole face lighting up.

For a moment, you just stood there, both of you grinning like idiots. And then, before he could leave, you stepped closer and gave him a soft, quick hug. Pau’s heart raced as he wrapped his arms around you, feeling like he was on cloud nine.

When you pulled back, you gave him a playful smile. “And don’t worry, we’ll avoid burgers this time. Just in case.”

Pau laughed, his nerves melting away. “Yeah, I’ll stick to salads.”

You both shared a quiet laugh, the air between you lighter and full of promise. And as Pau left your house that night, he couldn’t stop smiling. Neither could you.