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rafecameronssl4t · 2 days ago

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Chosen p.t 2 || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader love island au

Summary: read part one here

Warnings: angst

Word count: 1,173

A/n: help i forgot i had this in my queue LOL mb!!!

MASTERLIST (love island au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

You laid in bed, staring at the ceiling, Rafe’s absence a hollow ache beside you. You’d grown used to the warmth of his arm around you, the gentle rise and fall of his chest that lulled you to sleep each night. Without him, the bed felt colder, lonelier, and you couldn’t shake the memory of Kayla’s confident words as she chose him, as if she held a secret you didn’t.

Leah rubbed your arm in comfort, her eyes softening. “Yeah, must be tough after last night. The whole situation was shit. I don’t know what Kayla was thinking.” You managed a small smile, but it didn’t reach your eyes. “Neither do I, honestly. Rafe said there was nothing to worry about, but then she just… picked him. It just doesn’t make sense.”

You caught Sofia’s gaze, and she gave you a small, reassuring nod. “Maybe it’s not as deep as it seems,” she offered. “Maybe she just picked him because he looks good on paper—he’s confident, attractive, all that. She probably just wanted attention.” You nodded, trying to take comfort in her words, but the unease still simmered.

You nodded, trying to find comfort in her words, but the uncertainty still twisted inside you. Rafe had reassured you last night, had looked you in the eyes and held your hand with that steady, familiar touch that always made you feel seen. But now, with the memory of Kayla confidently choosing him and the doubt simmering beneath, it was harder to trust that feeling.

Leah’s voice broke the silence, softer now. “Have you talked to him about it?” You sighed, closing your eyes briefly as if that might ease the knot in your chest. “He tried last night. But I… I couldn’t. I was too hurt, too angry. I didn’t even know if I could believe him.”

Sofia’s hand found yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I think he’s probably feeling the same, People make decisions that don’t always make sense because they’re worried about what everyone thinks.” You leaned your head back, closing your eyes for a moment as you tried to steady your breathing.

Maybe they were right—maybe it was all just the game getting in your head, Kayla’s pick a calculated move, an attempt to create drama or stir things up. But the memory of Rafe looking away as Sophie announced your single status felt too raw to ignore.

Later that morning, as you sat in the makeup room, humming softly to yourself as you applied your skincare, a knock sounded at the door. The other girls exchanged glances, then called out, “Yeah, we’re dressed!” The door creaked open, and Rafe peeked in, his gaze instantly landing on you. He lingered in the doorway, holding a tray with coffee and breakfast.

“Hey,” he said quietly, his expression somewhere between hopeful and tentative. “Brought you breakfast.“ You blinked, caught off guard by the gesture. “Thanks,” you replied softly, surprised at how sincere he looked, how he seemed to truly want to make up for the night before. He set the tray down beside you and took a step back, as if unsure whether he should stay.

“Could we… talk?” he asked, his gaze flickering to the other girls, who quickly exchanged sympathetic glances. Leah gave you a small nod, then ushered everyone else out with a quiet, “Alright, let’s go, girls.” You sent her a grateful look as they slipped out, leaving you alone with Rafe.“Can I sit?” he asked, watching you closely, his eyes searching for any sign of welcome.

You nodded, and he pulled up a chair, watching you as you took a sip of coffee. It was exactly how you liked it, and that little detail twisted something in your chest. Neither of you spoke for a moment, the silence thick with unspoken words. Finally, he sighed, running a hand through his hair as he struggled to meet your eyes.

“I need you to believe me,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper. “I swear, I didn’t think she’d actually pick me. I thought I’d made it clear I wasn’t interested.” You looked away, biting down on the emotions that threatened to spill over. “Rafe, you don’t understand. You were there, comforting me, telling me everything was fine… and then she chose you. It felt like a slap in the face.”

He nodded, his expression pained. “I know. And I’m so sorry. I tried to make it clear to her, but I should’ve done more. I shouldn’t have let her think there was even a chance. I just… I don’t want to lose you over this.” For the first time, his words began to chip away at your hurt. His eyes held that raw sincerity, the vulnerability that he rarely let anyone see.

And as much as you wanted to cling to the anger, to shield yourself from the fear of being hurt again, a part of you knew he was being honest. You bit your lip, studying his face as he spoke, trying to gauge his sincerity. He looked back at you, a hint of desperation in his gaze that you couldn’t ignore. “You have to believe me,” he continued, voice almost a whisper. “I don’t want anyone else. It’s just you.”

Your shoulders relaxed, the anger ebbing slightly, though the doubt was still there. “Okay, Rafe,” you said finally, your tone soft but uncertain. “But actions speak louder than words. If you really mean it, you’ll have to prove it.” He nodded earnestly, relief flickering in his eyes as he reached for your hand.

“I will,” he promised. “I’ll prove it every single day if I have to. Just… give me a chance.” You nodded, feeling the weight of his words settle over you. He gave your hand a gentle squeeze, then smiled—a genuine, soft smile that reminded you of all the moments that had made you fall for him in the first place. “Finish your breakfast,” he murmured, nodding toward the tray. “I’ll be right here.”

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monstersholygrail · 3 days ago

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New City, New Life

5k celebration ‘Choose your own adventure’ story

Minotaur x fem!reader—fingering, exhibitionism, rough sex, marking, light spanking, light throat squeezing

Pt1 Pt2

You were stuck blindly walking around your new office building. Not realizing when you made the decision to look for your Minotaur Boss that you have no idea where his office is. Plus, it didn’t help that you could barely stand on your own two feet or that your head was still a big foggy and clouded over with undeniable lust.

The promise of your hot Wolf Hybrid neighbor ringing in your ears. He’d take you next time. And boy, you couldn’t wait for the day. Maybe he’d bring his friends again. The idea of trying out all those different cocks that had cum all over your body only minutes ago has you only growing dizzier. Fuck, who are these people you’ve been meeting? No one usually acts like this, do they?

As you walk into an open office area, you grow more and more confused. So many doors. So many places your boss’ office could be. You whirl around to ask for help, but end up tripping over your own feet in the process. A small helpless yelp leaves you as you go tumbling.

But just as quickly as you were about to accept your face and make a total ass of yourself in front of your new coworkers, a pair of strapping arms curl around your plush waist, stopping you from falling. Those same arms pull you in, snapping your hips against theirs. A weak moan falls past your lips and you pathetically melt into the stranger.

You couldn’t help it as their delicious scent washes over you. Oh, you could just burrow into it. It’s then you realize your eyes had closed from the impending fall. They flutter open and immediately look up to greet your savior. You wanted to thank him, but fuck, his sheer beauty just blew you away. You had never seen a more gorgeous Bunny Hybrid in your life and you were briefly distracted in your quest for your boss.

“Hey beautiful, no need to throw yourself at me. Could’ve just taken me right here,” the Bunny Hybrid Secretary said smoothly, his lips pulled into a panty-dropping smirk.

“Huh?”

“I’m the Minotaur Boss’ secretary and he prefers it if I do all my work here. He likes to watch,” the Bunny Hybrid purrs. He tugs you around, pinning your back against his desk.

A small squeak leaves you and your mind immediately falls into the dirtiest depths. His words conjuring so many naughty images in your head that you’re positive he didn’t mean to allude to. Yet your vision blurs with lust anyway. There must be something in the air of this city, you swear you’re not always like this.

Then the rest of his words begin to register and you try to blink the fog from your mind.

“T-the boss, that’s it! Do you know where his office is? I need him— need to see him immediately,” you say desperately, hands flying to the secretary’s hips. His smirk widens at your touch and he leans more into you.

“Oh, so you like it hard and rough, huh? You must be really needy if you’re willing to see him. You only go in there if you’ve been really bad… or really good. But I can take care of you, baby. That’s what I’m here for.”

“Please, I really need his help,” you beg shamelessly. His eyes flash with interest and for a moment you think he’s about to ignore your request all together and keep you pressed against him.

But then his bottom lips juts out into a pout and he releases you. Even going so far as to dramatically turn his back to you and cross his arms. Acting as if all his interest is suddenly gone. Though a quick glance down reveals otherwise.

“Fine, you don’t want me? Then have him! He’s right over there and he’s inside. Good luck,” he huffs and points just across from where the desk sits.

You glance back once more at the Bunny Hybrid Secretary. The urge to go back and show him just how badly you do want him tugs at your chest. But no, this is your job. This is your place of work and today is supposed to be your first day. Definitely not the time. You didn’t think it was anyway.

What you really needed was to find the headhunter who got you hired and finally get to work. In his previous emails he had always mentioned needing to see how well you performed for him. Whatever that meant. But getting in touch with your new boss had to be the best way to find him.

Just as you’re about to knock on his office door you hear a gruff ‘get in here!’ The sound has you jumping in your bones. But your body starts to tingle at the demanding tone of his voice. You brace yourself while opening the door and you know you made the right choice as you walk in. You silently curse under your breath. Why the hell is everyone so damn hot in this city?

Your Minotaur Boss sits behind his desk, his features drawn down into a stern expression. His imposing form appearing almost big as the desk and it has your panties flooding with arousal. His tight suit hugs his raging muscles so deliciously. But what really catches your eye is the silver ring hanging from his snort. A perfect combination of man and beast and it has you weak in the knees.

“Hello, sir, I’m—“

“I know who you are. You’re the new hire,” Minotaur boss says, slowly standing up in a way that has you ready to get down on your knees.

He walks around his desk, beginning to lightly pace as if surveying his prey. His hot amber eyes searing into yours.

“Only your first day and already causing such a disruption in my office.”

“I’m sorry, it’s just been such a hectic morning,” you try and excuse, not recognizing the shakiness or huskiness of your own voice. But Minotaur Boss sure does. He turns to face you, growing impossibly taller as he closes in.

The furious heat, the need, rises up within you once again and a whimper slips past your lips. The tension within the office is stifling and you swear you’re about ten seconds from either jumping his bones or dashing out the door. Given you’re sure you can’t do either, you opt for glancing down at your feet. But Minotaur Boss hooks a hoofed finger under your chin and forces you to meet his gaze.

“And you don’t think we’ve all had the same morning you did? Yet we come here and appear professional and put together.”

While you don’t think everyone in the office has had quite the same morning as you, you get his point. Kind of. You try and pay attention to what he’s saying but all you can focus on is the fact that his face is so close that his small huffs of breath fan your face. His lips so very close to your own. You start to revise the idea of jumping his bones.

“Yes, sir,” you reply slowly, your speech a bit slurred as you feel drunk off his vicinity. His sheer dominating presence washing over you and begging you to submit.

Minotaur Boss smirks as if he knows exactly what he’s doing to you. It’s like he’s almost doing it on purpose. But no, that can’t be. He couldn’t want you as much as you find yourself desperately wanting him. You two just met. That would be too soon for anyone else.

“Now I think you need to learn your lesson about what happens to naughty little whores like you when they act up here,” Minotaur Boss snaps, his rough voice tickling your senses and turning you on more than imaginable.

Your eyes widen at him but before you can even respond he’s flipping you around and pressing you into the glass wall of his office. You gasp as you’re immediately met with a view of the entire office. You can see them as much as they can see you right now.

Minotaur Boss yanks down your clothes, exposing your wet pussy to the cold air. You shiver against the glass. White hot shame bubbles up in your belly as you look out into the office. Some of the workers watch on, others give passing glances, and even Bunny Hybrid Secretary mouths ‘I told you so.’ But none of them look surprised. Like this is a normal occurrence for them. For some reason that only has your thighs growing more slick with arousal.

You jump as your boss’ thick hoofed fingers glide through your pussy, spreading you wide and catching every little bit of slick that’s gathered. He chuckles darkly and removes fingers, only to moan a second later. The clear sounds of slurping reach your ears and you know he’s tasting you on his fingers. You wanna see that so badly yet you’re frozen against the glass, not wanting to move without his permission.

He hums happily at your obedience and his fingers quickly return to your soaked cunt, rubbing your clit in tight circles. You feel his frame hover over yours and you immediately melt into his embrace. His free hand holds your hip, giving you silent permission to use his strength and get absolutely weak for him. As you sink against him his fingers sink right into your tight heat. A long mewl leaves you at the stretch from his fingers alone. He doesn’t hesitate to start pumping his fingers inside you, curling them at just the right moment to get your hips jerking and meeting his thrusts. A soft rumble moves through your bosses chest.

“I can tell your pussy’s been used well here, so willing to let me in. This city’s been treating you good, hunny.”

You moan weakly, eyes squeezing shut. The way he so bluntly calls you out has you clenching around his fingers. He growls under his breath and picks up his pace, hand snapping into your sopping cunt with brute force. Fingers curling and scissoring you open wide for him. You cry out, body writhing against him. How this man knows your every weak point is beyond you. He hits every sweet spot along your gummy walls he can find and your orgasm builds quickly.

Looking out into the office again you see more people stopping their work to watch you. You can’t help but hide away into the warm chest of your Minotaur Boss. A carful of people was one thing but an entire office felt a bit more daunting. But the way your boss didn’t even seem to care turned you on more than you realized. You quickly find yourself on the edge. Feeling your pussy spasm against his fingers, your boss quickly slips his fingers out.

Before you can let out a single complaint, your boss is stuffing his slick covered fingers deep in your open mouth, silencing you. You let out a noise of surprise but listen to him and focus on cleaning his fingers of you instead of talking. His hand on your hip leaves and you hear the soft clanging of a belt unbuckle. Sparks shoot down your spine and straight to your throbbing core.

When Minotaur Boss pushes his thick cock head through your wet folds you’re already pushing back. A playful shriek leaves you as his tip nudges at your entrance. Your boss’ hands both move to rest on your hips and he teases you, pushing his tip in little by little. You instinctively clench around him, trying to suck him in. He clicks his tongue at you

“What a naughty pussy you got here, hun. Think I’m gonna have to teach it some fucking manners,” he says and slams his entire length inside of you in one solid stroke.

Your back arches unnaturally, jaw dropping in a silent scream. But you don’t even get a second to process the sensations coursing through you as his hips snap back, starting at a brutal pace. Your hands shoot out to brace yourself against the glass but your boss instantly snatches your hands and holds them behind your back. He smushes you against the glass, your body wetly smacking against it with each brush.

“Ooooh— nngh— god! Oh god! Fuck,” you wail, eyes rolling back into your head as he sends your body buzzing.

Minotaur Boss laughs wickedly and you moan again, loving how he uses you. Ready to open your mouth and release more obscenities, your boss shuts that down with a firm smack on your ass and you merely help in response. He smacks your ass again.

“Louder! I wanna fucking hear you, hunny! Gotta welcome everyone in the building with your sweet sweet moans,” he growls, picking up pace, his cock slamming inside you.

Every deep snap of his hips nudges against your cervix and has your eyes crossing. You weakly try and move back against his thrusts but he keeps you pinned against the glass wall of his office. Forcing you to show off every inch of what he’s doing to you to the whole room. And you don’t dare wait a moment before listening to his demands. Your moans echoing off the walls and grating against your ears till you’re sure the whole building can hear you. Every smack of his hand on your ass has you growing even louder.

“H-how can this be so bad but so good? The boss fucking a subordinate. The entire office watching and touching themselves. How does no one get in trouble?” You shout in ecstasy, your eyes flickering to your coworkers who’ve started touching themselves. Some even moving to fuck each other too. Your boss nuzzles into your neck, lapping up your sweat.

“One of the benefits of living in a free use city, baby,” your boss says with another taunting laugh that has your toes curling. But you have no clue what he’s talking about. It’s hard to focus with his cock hammering itself inside your sopping cunt.

“A what?”

“Free use city. Means I can take you whenever and wherever I want. And you can do the same to me or anyone,” Minotaur Boss growls his weak explanation. But it’s hard for him too with your pussy clenching and fluttering around his girth.

Even with the brief explanation your mind spins. Not understanding what the hell is going on. You moved into a free use city? How was that not on any of the brochures the headhunter had given you. He just sent you into this place completely blind.

“But I didn’t…”

Minotaur Boss catches your expression. One of his hands curl around your throat and tilts you back. Your spine arches with it and you moan weakly as your boss slides into your cunt at a new angle, his cock brushing along your sweet spot with each jerk of his hips.

“You saying you didn’t know?”

All you can you is faintly shake your head, your eyes lost in a haze of confusion and lust. Your cunt once again spasms around his girth and he knows you’re getting close again. His own expression shifts, eyes twinkling with mischief as his hand squeezes around your throat.

“Well what a treat for you, eh? Now prove to me how much you belong here and cum all nice and pretty on my cock.”

As if your body was waiting for his command, your belly tightens and the cord snaps as you start coming on his cock. Your juices spraying all over the glass wall as your body thrashes in his hold. Minotaur Boss, as always, maintains a solid grip on you. Fucking up into you through your orgasm until he follows soon after and cums deep inside you, shooting buckets of his hot semen in your belly.

Minotaur Boss works with an efficiency fit for a boss as he slips out of you and gets to work cleaning you up. All you can do is pant heavily against the glass, your mind still whirling from the revelation. Everything that had happened to you since yesterday suddenly making a lot more sense.

But none of the information you had about this place mentioned it being a free use city. Should you have done your own research? You guess so. But the truth about this place shouldn’t have been hidden either. This was all because of your headhunter… and you were finally gonna get answers. You struggle to push off the glass and turn to your boss, once again fully clothed.

“Where— where can I find the headhunter who hired me? I need… to see— to talk to him immediately,” you stammer over your words, still trying to pick yourself back up again.

Minotaur boss settles back in his desk chair, leaning back and looking more than satisfied. But amusement quickly joins in as it dances in his eyes. Clearly finding your situation hilarious. He points down the room and you follow the line of it to a door marked ‘Conference room D.’

“In the conference room but, uh, he might be a little busy at the moment…”

With your destination in sight strength pours back into you. Your legs stop shaking and you stand up a little bit taller. Maybe it’s all the anger flowing through you but you let it propel you forward. Readying to give your headhunter a piece of your mind. And maybe a piece of something else too…

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klinefelterrible · 2 days ago

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sooo I’m doing it for @k-kizkhalifa :} Do you daydream a lot before you write, or go for it as soon as the ideas strike?

There are times when I daydream a lot about a certain idea, like for example about the one about pairing Ron with Blaise, but mostly it’s just a Boom! and if I don’t write it now, it’s dead and gone.

Where do you get your fic ideas?

I imagine my (as in “original but in my way” or headcanonly or au) characters during certain activities (mostly: fucking) and I add something or someone extra, or I set the scene right before or after - as it comes to me.

Do you share your fic ideas, or do you keep them to yourself?

I rarely have a big idea that is different than a shortie I am writing or wrote already, but in my head it’s like once I say it, it’s done and gone - so sharing is equal to abandoning it most likely forever

How do you choose which fics to write?

Since I don’t understand the question really I will try answering how I feel it: I choose just by how I feel about right now. When I think of Eomer, I write about Eomer. As simple as that.

How many wips do you have? What fandoms/pairings are they for?

GURL YOU NOT READY!

I have many wips, mostly of HP wizarding world, and probably sometime soon I will release another chapter of two halves of Draco’s broken wand and my favourite pairing there is Draco/Bill Weasley and Fred/George/Hermione and since it’s me, it’s going to be juicy as fuck. Literally.

What’s the last line you wrote?

“He’s a cuckoo”

Post a snippet from a wip.

Post an out-of-context spoiler from a wip.

Draco is being blackmailed and fucked by Bill Weasley

Does this word [chosen by asker] appear in your current wip?

Do you work on multiple wips or stick to one fic at a time?

M u l t i p l e

Do you write scenes in order, or do you jump around?

I truly have no idea what I’m doing

Do you outline your fics? If yes, how detailed are your outlines? How far do you stray from them?

It depends. For Lucy I invented a whole new interest and branch of magical creatures for Lucius to be interested in and for the moment I was even sad that I am doing all this work to finish it with some porn scene.

Do you listen to music while you write? If yes, what have you been listening to recently?

Rarely as I am bilingual and most of the music I listen to is English so I get distracted very easily

What is your favorite location and position to write in?

Any. Sometimes I park my car on my driveway and just START WRITING

What’s your favorite time to write?

Any. No particular favourite time. But I don’t like meal time to use on writing if I really must differentiate between this or that

Do you write by hand, on your phone, or on your laptop?

99% phone.

Do you have a writing routine?

I barely have any routines!

Do you enjoy research? Which fic of yours required the most research?

Research yes, sometimes a lot! But for a fic? They don’t require much researching… maybe just checking if I remember something correctly or not.

Do you enjoy creating OCs or do you prefer to stick solely to canon characters?

I like creating OCs based on characters from other fiction and I am not ashamed at all.

Do you prefer writing AUs or canon fics?

Asking that a guy who writes hardcore gay porn from Wizarding World…

Do you prefer writing chaptered fics or one-shots?

Why not both at once?

Do you title your fics before, during, or after the writing process? How do you come up with titles?

I hate titling!

Is writing the beginning, middle, or end of the story easiest? Hardest?

I never know how to end stuff. Ever. Anything. I have to force myself to shut the fuck up.

How do you choose whose POV to write in?

I don’t like POVs

What’s your favorite part of the writing process (worldbuilding, brainstorming/outlining, writing, editing, etc)?

The part when I am just a finger that clicks and my subconsciousness does everything else.

What’s your least favorite part of the writing process?

Making sure it all makes sense! Fuck. That!

What area of writing do you feel strongest in?

Area of writing? As in I AM A DIALOGUE MASTER and a little bitch for remembering what the fuck did I start with

What area of writing do you want to improve in?

I won’t improve in remembering so maybe I can start making sense more…?

What’s something about your writing that you’re proud of?

I can make literally anything about gay men crossdressing or women wearing high heels and sometimes I can even make them sassy. I am not proud of myself at all so whatever

How much do you edit your fics? Do you edit as you write or wait until you finish the first draft?

Wips are being edited hard, especially longshots. I write, I stop, I edit two weeks later, I write and so on and it all depends on my mood.

Do you use a beta reader/editor?

Only for bigger or more serious projects and even then extremely rarely because I don’t know anyone that committed to my writing or weird enough and with so much free time

Do you take fic requests? Why or why not?

I WOULD TAKE REQUESTS ANYTIME BUT BEAR IN MIND THAT I AM NOT VERY GOOD AND YOU WILL SUFFER A LOT OF GAYNESS AND WEIRD SEX IN THEM, hit me up only if you’re ready for some hardcore porn or smut or sass

Is there a specific word count that you hold yourself to/enjoy writing the most?

I never think of that

How much of your personal life/experience do you include in your fics?

Barely anything other than sass and heels and my own stupidity

What’s your favorite fic you’ve posted?

I am currently a fan of my short incorrect quotes, it’s my most recent and most read work on ao3.

What fic are you proudest of?

Two Halves of Draco’s broken wand maybe?

What fic has been the hardest for you to write?

WHAT IS WIP IS A WIP BECAUSE IT IS HARD FOR SOME REASON

What is your most self-indulgent posted story?

Everyone would want a friend like you

What’s your most self-indulgent wip?

all of them :>

What is your favorite world that you’ve created for a fic?

I honestly have no clue!

Who’s your favorite character you’ve written?

From a fic? I enjoy writing young Narcissa, but frankly speaking I loved writing young Lucius and adult Draco.

What’s your favorite title that you’ve come up with?

I hate titling! Next question!

Is there a trope or idea that you’d really like to write but haven’t yet?

Next question!

What is your favorite genre to write?

Genre… as in dialogue-based fantasy weirdness?

What genre/trope do you tend to write the most?

PORN

If you could only write one type of AU for the rest of your life, what would it be?

one type as in the one where guys that canonically don’t fuck all of the sudden do?

Is there a trope that you’ve written before but are now sick of?

naaah

Who is your favorite character to write for? Has this changed since you’ve started writing for that fandom?

my most favourite of all times character is Sam Vimes but I don’t want to write ff about him really that much

What fic of yours would you say is the best introduction to you as a writer?

oh geez if you really need to think of me as a writer, please don’t read my fanfics EVER, I am writing them for fun and for fun only

How would you describe your writing style?

Funny, weird and sometimes even full of meaningful connections between the characters

Does what you like to write differ from what you like to read?

I try to be as good as my favourite writers!

What’s the average word count of your fics?

as me if I care about the numbers again and I will start telling random things

What is the most-used tag on your ao3?

maybe… blow jobs? High heels?

What’s the fandom/pairing distribution of your posted fics?

Harry/Draco!

Have you noticed any patterns in your fics? Words/expressions that appear a lot, themes, common settings, etc?

well yeah, blowjobs, denial, high heels, netorare, crossdressing, getting convinced, girls knowing and getting what they want… stuff like that

Are there any fics that you would change or rewrite if given the chance?

If I had, they’d be done already

How conscious are you about including symbolism or foreshadowing in your fics?

I have no idea. Next!

Do you have a favorite piece of figurative language you’ve written?

No idea. Next!

Have you participated in any fic events/writing challenges? If yes, what were they and did you enjoy them?

not yet! I plan on getting at drarry in january 2025!

Arethere any fics that influenced you to write the way you do?

The only fics that ever influenced me to write anyhow were Guarding Dark and some other fic about Sphene/Zeiat from but it was about writing more, not how

What are your favorite fics at the moment?

previously mentioned Guarding Dark, about death of Sam Vimes and dwarvish mine sign that happened afterwards. A very good fic, really a small treasure.

Are you subscribed to any writers on AO3?

no… I am a terrible subscription reader, I never have time and I always postpone to the point I hate myself

Do you spend more time reading or writing?

lately writing, but it’s a wave

What’s your favorite writing compliment you’ve gotten?

that someone read my book/story/fic and loved it or that it resonated with them somehow

What do you tend to get complimented on the most about your writing?

that it is funny I guess

Do you have a fic you wish got a bit more love?

yeah all the shorties that got little to no hearts on tumblr, it’s always that longer one that someone didn’t read whole I presume… if it’s long I had an idea! Not always a good one, but long idea anyway

Is there a particular fic that readers gravitated towards that you didn’t expect?

yeah my collection of those shortest fics is currently my most read anything on ao3 like wtf

How do you deal with writing pressure, whether internal or external?

there is no external pressure but internally I am in a constant state of chaos so I really have no idea what I’m doing. Sometimes I feel pressure, sometimes I don’t.

Why do you enjoy writing fanfiction?

are you kidding me? It makes me happy, it makes other people happy and it’s an act of creation so naturally I enjoy that. Also that bitch jkr did nothing to make them more interesting so I had to make a stand for them

What motivates you during the writing process?

a thought that “this will be fun”

Do you have any writing advice you want to share?

just write anytime you feel like writing, if you don’t have an idea for a name or some other detail, simply put [name] or [detail] and continue and it will clarify later if the character is Clark Bones, an architect who likes tomatoes or a Roan Desmond Ruttington, a gardener who killed his mother’s lover when he was twelve and noone ever found out; never let yourself stumble on some minor details and change major things AFTER you write an entire chapters or bigger parts, really, you will thank me later. Also if you write sex, please please please remember that fucking is a machine-like activity and courting and talking about it must be witty, with a good taste and if not that, at least dont be gross and remember that there is nothing less fun than gross AND boring sex scenes.

Thank you, Kiz!

Fanfiction Writing Asks

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Free space - asker can come up with any writing or fic-related question they want!

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sstargirln · 3 days ago

Text

❞ ᝰ .ᐟ stepdad(dy)!art

TW: smut MDNI - p in v, not proofread, so so much swearing, so much dirty talk oops, fauxcest/stepcest

word count: 2301

¡! ❞! a/n aka post-nut clarity : yikes! i am down BAD

“where the fuck have you been?” art's voice cut through the empty front foyer, his eyes narrowed and arms crossed as you stumble through the front door.

just a few years ago, art was nothing but a familiar face in tennis circles, your mom’s high-profile client from her days as a sports agent. you remembered watching his matches on tv when you were younger. hearing his name murmured around the house—art donaldson, the untouchable tennis star and his wife, tashi. but that marriage had fallen apart, fast.

and then one day, you came home to find him at the dinner table, leaning back in his chair like he’d always belonged there. they were dating, your mom had said, not hiding the glint of satisfaction in her eyes as if she’d snagged the catch of the century. you never asked how it started, only watched as art slowly slipped from the screen into your everyday life.

art liked it—a family that wasn’t a media-fueled whirlwind, even if the kid was closer to his age than to being an actual child.

the past few years had gone smoothly enough. art had settled into this new life, used to the late nights your mom spent at the office . . . and then you turned 18. and you were a rebellious mess of late nights and tight dresses and barely concealed fluttery eyelashes.

whatever you were doing — if you meant to or not, was working. you were turning heads, catching eyes. and art’s mind had begun to shift as well. darken.

he had begun to become infected by this feeling, creeping under his skin like poison. it bloomed inside him, a constant, gnawing need that he hated himself for. his thoughts spiraled, to you, to your body, to the way your mouth moved when you smiled, when you spoke. worst of all, the way the word daddy slipped from your lips effortlessly, so innocently.

“you reek. are you drunk?”

you shake your head ever so slightly as you stumble towards the couch. "no, daddy, don't be ridiculous," you giggled, your words slurring. you adjust up the hem of your sleeveless dress as you spread on the couch, hair falling into your face. "i'm . . . tipsy at best."

art clenches his jaw at the sound of that forbidden word on your lips. his heart pounds in his chest, and he feels it low in his stomach, a jolt of heat straight to his groin.

he knows this is wrong, knows he shouldn't be picturing all the filthy things he wants to do to you, sprawled on the couch under him. "tipsy, my ass. who were you with?" he managed to choke out.

you roll your eyes as you look up at him. "my friend sierra. went to a party." you lick your lips slowly, foot reaching out to graze against his leg. "my neck hurts from looking up at you, daddy. si'down."

fuck, what are you doing? trying to drive him crazy? it's working. his cock twitches traitorously in his pants, already starting to stiffen at your casual touch. his body moves before his brain can catch up, sinking down onto the cushion beside you. "there. happy now?" he tries to keep his tone gruff, unaffected.

you nod slightly, a small smirk tugging at your lips before you lean back with a pout, your eyes heavy. "so . . . what're you gonna do? hm? ground me?" you rest your legs across his lap.

it takes every ounce of his self-control not to reach out and touch you. all he can think how soft your skin must feel, how you would taste if he leaned in and ran his tongue along your inner thigh. his hands clench into fists at his sides, nails digging into his palms. "maybe I should call your mother. let her deal with you. this is ridiculous. "

but even as the words leave his mouth, he knows he won't do it. knows he'll take the fall for you, like always. because despite his better judgment, despite the sickness churning in his gut at his own twisted desires — he can't bear the thought of disappointing you.

you just giggled at his scolding, apparently too far gone to care. you shift on the cushions, arch your back slightly. making the flimsy sundress ride up even higher on your thighs, giving art a peek of red lace that he should not be seeing. art swallowed hard, a muscle in his jaw ticking.

the room is silent for a few moments, art’s confrontation long dissipated.

“mom’s gone a lot, hm?” your slurred, shaky voice snaps him out of his daze. you shift closer to him, foot brushing right against his crotch.

art inhales sharply, his cock twitching as your foot grazes his straining erection. a flicker of panic passes over his face before he could hide it. "what the hell is that supposed to mean?" he asked defensively, crossing his arms, trying to steady himself.

you just smirk up at him, eyes glinting mischievously even through the drunken haze. "oh c'mon, daddy, you know exactly what i mean." you draw out the forbidden word, letting it hang in the charged air between them. lick your lips. bat your lashes oh so innocently. "y'know, 's just that she’s never around anymore. mus' get real lonely for you.”

“don’t . . .” he choked. art dragged a hand over his face, trying to collect himself. "just go to bed," he stammered wearily, unable to meet your eyes. "we'll talk more about this in the morning when you're sober."

but you don’t listen, continue on as if he never said anything — lips curling into a knowing smirk. "mm, poor daddy," you murmur, a soft, taunting lilt to your voice. "don’t get much action, i’m sure."

art exhales sharply, his eyes flicking to yours, then quickly away. “you need to go to bed.”

you scoot closer, your legs brushing against his. "i don’t want to sleep," you murmur, leaning in just enough for him to feel your breath against his ear. "maybe i want some attention. i know you do."

“fuck,” he croaked. “stop.”

but you just smile up at him. lean in just a little. "must be hard, having so much to . . . hold in,” you whisper, your fingers trailing lazily along the edge of his sleeve.

“please," he rasped. "we can't. i'm your father, for fuck's sake.” the words sounded weak even to his own ears. his resistance was crumbling by the second, defenses worn down by months of pent-up lust and longing.

“not really.”

"go to bed," he repeats. this time his voice is barely more than a whimper.

"yeah, i'll go to bed . . . but i’ll be thinking about you."

art's eyes slid shut as your fingers worked their way beneath the hem of his shirt, nails raking lightly over his abs. a low groan escaped him, the sound foreign to his own ears. he was in so deep, drowning in a sea of forbidden lust.

“mhm, i’ll be thinking about you, daddy. are you gon’ make me take care of this myself?”

art's breath hitched as your fingers trailed lower, brushing against the waistband of his jeans. his hips jerked involuntarily, aching for more contact despite the voice in the back of his head screaming at him to stop this madness.

you pressed a kiss to his cheek, slow, wet. he wants to turn his head, to capture your lips with his own. to claim you, to ruin you for any other man. but he can't. he shouldn't.

"please," he begs, but he's not even sure what he's asking for anymore. for you to stop? or for you to keep going, to grind against him until he explodes?

"i think you want this jus’ as badly as i do, huh?" your hand slid lower, brushing over the bulge straining against his zipper. "so why don't you stop fighting and just give in?"

and that's when art's careful control shattered. the last thread snapped, and a ragged curse tore from his throat as his hands shot out, grabbing your hips and hauling you onto his lap. capturing your mouth in a bruising kiss, he scrabbles at your dress, rips it down.

he kisses you like a drowning man gasping for air, devouring you, pouring all his pent-up desire into the heated embrace. his fingers tangled in you hair, tugging roughly as he angled your head to deepen the kiss. you moan into his mouth, your own hands frantically roaming his chest and shoulders. art feels you grinding against him, the heat searing him even through his clothes.

he broke away from her lips to trail open-mouthed kisses along your jaw. down the column of her throat. "fuck, you drive me crazy," he growled against your skin, nipping at your pulse point.

your head lolls back, a wanton moan spilling from your lips. "please," you whimper, fingers scrabbling at his shirt. "i need you so bad."

art's mouth latched onto a pebbled nipple, sucking and biting as he ground his aching cock against you. his hands found your mouth, and he shoved a finger in. your tongue instinctively curling around the digits, lapping at them greedily. you mewled around his fingers, the sound muffled and desperate as arched into him, your own hands frantically working to undo his belt and zipper. art hissed in pleasure as your freed his throbbing member, stroking him slowly while he continued to ravish your chest. " 'm gonna fuck you so good." his hips rock into your hand, seeking more of that delicious friction.

he pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, pupils blown wide with lust. "i'm going to make you mine," he growls, fingers delving into your panties to stroke your slick folds. "gon' — fuck. gonna stretch this pretty pussy out. yeah? . . . yeah, 's that what you want?"

it's filthy, degrading, everything he knows he shouldn't want. but god help him, he can't stop. you nod desperately as you groan into his touch, grip on his dick loosening for a second when he teases your entrance with a finger. another light brush and he lifts his hand to your mouth, slipping it back inside between your lips before scooching back. pressing his cock to your entrance through your lacy panties. "pl — please," you cry, eyes wide and watery. "fuck me, please."

art groans, grinding his cock against your soaked panties. the heat of you seeps through the lacy fabric, making him throb with need. he rubs his tip against the practically see-through fabric, soaked through with arousal. relishes your needy, breathy moans. he hooks his fingers around your panties and rips them away, baring you completely to his hungry gaze. "look at you," he rasps, drinking in the sight of you spread out beneath him, glistening. ready. "so fucking perfect. fuck — 'm gonna . . . i'm gon' wreck this pussy, baby. make it all mine, yeah?" he slaps his length against your clit, smirking crookedly at the way you whimper. "make you forget about all those other — other little boys, yeah?"

and with that, he notches the head of his dick against your entrance and surges forward, burying himself balls-deep in your tight, slick pussy. you cry out, back arching off the couch as he fills you. stretches you, claims you.

he sets a punishing pace, fucking into you like a man possessed. the wet slap of skin on skin fills the room, punctuated by your pornographic moans and his grunts of pleasure "fuckkk," you whine into him languidly, hands scrabbling against his thick arms. "fuck, daddy. you're — you're so fucking big."

he leans down to capture your lips in a filthy kiss, all teeth and tongue. swallows your cries of ecstasy as he pounds into you. he grunts, fingers digging into your hips hard enough to bruise. "you like this, huh? like daddy's big . . . fuck — big cock splitting you open, hm?"

you nod with a sob, thighs shaking at the relentless snapping of his hips into yours. his fingers find your clit, rubbing mercilessly. pushing you closer to the edge with every touch.

"gonna cum," he warns breathlessly, hips stuttering. "gon' fill your cunt up, baby. breed this pussy."

he leans down to bite at your neck, sucking dark bruises into your skin. marking you as his territory.

"cum for me, baby," he demands, voice strained with impending release. "milk — milk me fuckin' dry."

the filthy words send you over the edge, your walls clamping down on him like a vice. you cum with a scream, convulsing around his shaft as he empties himself inside you with a loud moan.

he collapses on top of you, both of you panting and sated. for a long moment, he just holds you, nuzzling into your neck. you smile at him like you'd just won the lottery, legs wrapping around his hips.

"am i better than mom?" you whispered into his ear.

he lets out a real, honest-to-god bark of a laugh. "jesus christ," he pants. "you're fucking . . . you're amazing. fucking intense."

understatement of the century. he just fucked his stepdaughter senseless, filled her with his babies, and he's already craving more. fuck, he's in deep. so fucking deep. literally and figuratively.

¡! ❞ © niya-writesshit 2024

#¡! ❞ niya's writing #❞ ᝰ .ᐟ stepdad!art #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson smut #art donaldson blurb #art donaldson #challengers smut #challengers 2024

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hwaightme · 2 days ago

Text

03:10 AM

(masterlist)

🌃pairing: bf!seonghwa x gn!reader 🌃genre: timestamp, comfort, healing, fluff 🌃summary: 3am, a time for overthinking. is love louder than your thoughts? 🌃wordcount: 1k 🌃warnings/tags: unedited, introspection, lack of confidence, two people in love, kissing, cute sleepy seonghwa, writer is rusty 🌃taglist: at the bottom. would love to add you if interested <3 🌃a/n: oh how i wish to write again, to pour words onto pages and let my heart bleed into the ink. this timestamp is mildly inspired by maro's 'we've been loving in silence'. sorry for rustiness, and any love is so appreciated...

Everyone is deserving of love. Love in all its shapes and colours. A love that looks like a tender conversation in a tiny kitchen, a love that looks like unstoppable laughter under the starry night sky, a love that looks like unwavering dedication and adoration even when it seems impossible. Every person is worthy of a love that makes their heart feel full while being fully aware of the world and all its complexities, shadows and anguish. A love that gives one hope.

Sometimes, this complicated feeling looks like speeding down the city streets as a salvation in the time of trouble. It could even look like a distraught, disjointed embrace accompanied by a cacophony of sobs and stuttered breaths. Love can look like feeling another’s pain, living through it as if it is one’s own. Love can mean heartbreak, over and over again until there is seemingly nothing left, and yet still the ground up powder of affection would be offered as a sacrifice to this mystery.

What is love to you?

You wonder, particularly on nights like this, when a blanket of calm covers the metropolis in which you found yourself, not too dissimilar to a shell being washed up on the shore to encounter a glorious, blazing sun. A twinkling magic on the other side of the glass greets you, and you rest a finger on the coolness, tracing distant shapes of building after building, only to haphazardly wipe it down with the edge of your sleeve. How did you end up in a place where you thought you would never be, feeling what you had sworn you would be unable to feel?

A gentle melancholy aches in your chest, etching the curves and edges of your ribcage, an incessant little bird, bubbling up that old sense of unease. What is this that you are living in? If you do not know, will it go away? The loud mind, an old friend and enemy, one which had accompanied you through all stages of your life, to find itself equally as bewildered as your heart, but a lot more terrified. Caught between bliss and a painful awareness of the unknown, you walk a tightrope blindfolded.

At least until a hand reaches out for you, warm, reassuring, and guides you across to an oasis. A beating heart, a familiar breath, palm pressed against your upper arm take you out of your spiralling musings, and beckon you to look in the direction of a soft, barely audible whisper of ‘my love’.

You turn to meet Seonghwa’s eyes, endless pools of glistening brown sugar, enough to both extinguish and ignite, turn dark to light and wrong to right. A timeless poetry is in his face, the rhythm of his features casting a spell over you as you glance over them. These sleepy eyes, stunning nose and cheeks that bear a pinkish hue, plush lips caught in a miniscule pout, dishevelled hair that you know your boyfriend tried to tame, to no avail. You turn your body to meet him fully, and fall into his arms. They envelop you tightly, and you inhale the ghostly remnants of his cologne, a tantalising note of his, and your favourite shampoo, all intricately blended with fabric softener and cotton - put simply, you are home.

“Why aren’t you sleeping, hm?” he asks, voice still a little raspy. It must have been only minutes since he woke up to find you.

“I’m sorry… Did I wake you?”

“Mm… no. Your absence woke me up,” you could cry, not that you would say it, or rather have to say it. Seonghwa knows how his words affect you anyways, judging by the swift squeeze of his arms before he returns to slowly rocking side to side.

“I just had a lot of thoughts. Wanted to get rid of them somehow.”

“Want to talk about them?”

You are not sure if you would be able to summon enough courage to talk about what is plaguing you, at least now, in the semi-darkness of yours and his apartment, you feel far too fragile to look inside of the boxes you keep shuffling. Unbeknownst to yourself, you begin to bite your lower lip, trying to pick the right words. Any attempt to formulate whatever excuse you have been seeking inevitably fails as Seonghwa’s lips find yours, erasing your habit, erasing your worry. Caught off-guard, a quiet gasp escapes you, only to be rewarded by an airy chuckle.

“So… not talking, then?” you press your face into the crook of his neck, sensing heat rising on your cheeks.

“You surprised me, is all…” you trail off, slowly guiding yourself upwards, but still being unable to meet Seonghwa’s gaze.

“I’ll happily kiss all your worries away, if that’s what it takes,” his tone is humorous, and the phrase is light-hearted. His glances into your eyes, at your lips, at the strands of hair that you know he will adjust for you like he usually does, holding promise and commitment. If you so wish, he will. If you so want, he will. If you so will, he most definitely will.

Your hands grip onto his sleeping shirt as you mumble a thanks, inching closer until your timid smile melts into his. A pleasantly languid rhythm, a moonlit paradise, drawing a masterpiece with your bodies until you are struggling to breathe. An adorable exchange of sweet nothings as you fill your lungs with air, no distinction of space nor time while you are in this trouble-less duet. A small peck on Seonghwa’s lips prompts him to pull you in again, eyes fluttering shut as he floats, flies, soars in love with you. You swear you can see the stars while the taste of his cherry lip balm lingers.

As you follow him back to bed, sinking into the sheets with a sigh, inklings of somnolence settle over your slow-moving intertwined bodies. His breath turns steady, a comforting rise and fall against your back. Seonghwa’s hand is over yours, thumb making random patterns on your skin.

“Dream of me,” he says against your shoulder, grinning when he hears your sharp exhale.

This, this is love to you.

🌃taglist: @shakalakaboomboo @charreddonuts @miriamxsworld @innsomniacshinestar @preciouswoozi @wooyoungjpg @wowie-hockey @hongjoongs-patience @jaehunnyy @maddkitt @ren-junwrld @marsstarxhwa @yeonjunnie @asjkdk @northerngalxy @my-loves-my-life @http-gyu

enjoyed? i would love to hear from you, it means the universe to me. thank you.

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rottenfyre · 2 days ago

Text

⸻ ᴛ ʜ ᴇ ᴛ ʏ ʀ ᴀ ɴ ᴛ ⸻

Pairing: Yandere HOTD x Targaryen Reader part 1

Summary: Everything was fine. You were happy. Your mother was expecting a child, and soon enough, you would have another one to call family, to call your own. Everything was perfect. What could possibly go wrong?

˚꒰notes꒱‧ Reader is Rhaenyra's twin. Criston is already reader personal gourd. Dark reader. English is not my first language. Gifs don't belong to me credit to the owner. Hope you enjoy!

The chamber was warm, bathed in the soft glow of afternoon light that streamed through the narrow windows, casting golden patterns on the stone floor. Y/n stood by her mother’s bedside, gently brushing a stray lock of hair from Aemma’s face. Her mother was always beautiful, but now, heavy with child, there was a fragility to her that made Y/n’s heart stir in ways she wasn’t used to. A strange protectiveness, an almost suffocating need to keep her safe from all the sharp, ugly things in the world.

Aemma’s hand, delicate and pale, rested atop her swollen belly. Her breathing was slow, rhythmic, and tired. Y/n could see it, the weariness that clung to her mother’s every movement. She had been sick often lately, and though no one spoke of it, Y/n could feel something dark looming over them. Something inevitable.

"You must be kind, Y/n," Aemma said softly, her voice barely above a whisper, but still full of that soft warmth that made her sound so motherly. "Be careful… be kind. To people… to the babe."

Her mother’s words hung in the air, and Y/n felt a smile tug at her lips—soft, gentle. Kind. I have always been kind, she thought, her mind drifting to the moments where she had shown her love, in the ways only she knew how.

“I am kind,” she replied softly, kneeling beside her mother’s bed and taking Aemma’s hand. It was cool to the touch, but still, her mother’s fingers closed weakly around hers. “I’ve always been kind to you, Mother. To Father, to Rhaenyra... I will be kind to my brother too.” Her voice dropped to a whisper, a secret shared between them. “I’ve already chosen a dragon egg for him. Dreamfyre's, and he will be great. He will be a king, Mother.”

Aemma smiled, but it was tired, worn. “You sound so certain it’s a boy,” she said with a faint laugh, but there was no real joy behind it—just exhaustion.

“It’s just a feeling,” Y/n said, her smile deepening as she leaned down to kiss her mother’s cheek, lingering just a little too long. Her skin is soft, she thought, and cold. Like a candle that’s been left to burn too long. But that’s alright. Y/n had warmth enough for both of them. She could give that to her. She would always take care of her mother.

Her lips brushed her mother’s cheek one last time before she pulled away, straightening her posture. "Rest, Mother," she whispered, her fingers trailing lightly over Aemma’s arm as she withdrew. “I’ll be back soon.”

As she left the chamber, Y/n's mind wandered. A king. My little brother will be a king, and he will love me more than anyone else. More than Rhaenyra ever could. A shiver ran down her spine at the thought. Her brother, with silver hair like hers, riding a dragon she had chosen for him. She could already see it—the two of them, bounding, and nothing would ever come between them. This time there would be no rats like that cunt, Alicent.

But now... now she had other needs to attend to. A different kind of satisfaction.

She made her way through the winding corridors of the Red Keep, her mind already drifting to him. Her favorite. He’s always so eager for me, she thought with a smirk. So desperate to please, so desperate to be needed. She liked that about him—his submission, his willingness to do whatever she asked without question. And his hair... gods, his silver hair. It always reminded her of home.

She reached the brothels and paused at the door, her hand resting on the cold wood. Do I want him soft tonight? Or do I want to see him cry? She wasn’t sure yet. Maybe both. Maybe neither.

Pushing open the door, she stepped inside, her eyes immediately finding him. He was kneeling, waiting, as she had taught him to. His head bowed, silver hair falling into his eyes. The sight sent a flicker of warmth through her—something like affection, but sharper. He’s beautiful, she thought. Perfect.

"Look at me," she commanded softly, and he obeyed, lifting his head to meet her gaze. His eyes were wide, nervous. Good. She liked him that way.

"I’ve missed you," she purred, moving closer, her fingers already itching to thread through his hair. Yes, he’ll do well tonight. Maybe I’ll let him cum.

The smile that spread across her lips was soft, almost tender. I am always kind.

The room was dark, the air thick with the remnants of sleep. Y/n stirred under the silk sheets, her body warm, still damp from the night’s indulgences. Her skin glowed faintly in the low light, the satisfaction of her desires lingering like an aftertaste. She let out a sigh, stretching lazily, the weight of Aelor’s body no longer pressed against hers.

Then she heard it. A faint sound—something off. Her eyes snapped open, sharp, awake.

Aelor stood at the foot of the bed, naked but trembling, a dagger held to his throat. His silver hair was messy, his chest rising and falling quickly, eyes wild with panic.

She sat up slowly, letting the sheets fall from her body, completely unbothered by her nakedness. Her gaze locked onto the dagger, her voice calm, almost disinterested. "Aelor," she said softly, “put that away.”

But he didn’t. Instead, he shook harder, his knuckles white around the handle of the blade. “I can’t,” he whispered, his voice shaking. "I can’t do this anymore."

Y/n frowned, her brow furrowing slightly. "What do you mean?"

Aelor let out a sob, his knees buckling as he stumbled backward, pressing the dagger harder against his skin. “You—you’ve made me miserable! Every time I’m with you, I feel like I’m dying. You’re cruel, you’re wicked, and you’ve taken everything from me! I hate you!”

Y/n blinked, her head tilting slightly, almost like she was confused. “You hate me?” she repeated, the words foreign to her. No one hated her. How could they? She was perfect. Is this a joke? She didn’t like it.

“Yes!” he shouted, his voice cracking. “You’ve ruined me! I want to die! I want to end it, right here, right now!”

For a moment, she just stared at him, her mind racing. This is ridiculous. He’s being ridiculous.

"Aelor," she said, her voice low, almost soothing. "Stop this nonsense. I can give you anything you want. Do you want gold? A dragon egg? A house by the sea? Just put the dagger down and tell me what you want."

But he shook his head violently, tears streaming down his face. “I don’t want any of that! I want to die! I want to be free of you!”

Die? The word was distant to her. Why would he want that? He has everything. She shifted, the furs slipping from her as she regarded him coolly. “Don’t be ridiculous, Aelor. You have a good life. You’re mine. What could be so bad about that?”

But he wasn’t listening. His breaths were coming out in ragged gasps, his chest heaving as he teetered on the edge of some terrible decision. “I can’t... I can’t... I want this to stop. I want—”

And then she heard it. A whisper. Faint, from the other side of the door.

“The queen… she’s gone.”

Her heart stopped.

Everything froze. The room, Aelor, the very air around her seemed to still as the words sank in.

"The queen is dead," came another hushed voice from outside the door. "Died in the birthing bed."

The words hit Y/n like a physical blow, sinking deep into her chest. Dead? No. Not Mother.

The room spun, and suddenly her world collapsed in on itself, like a dying star pulling everything into its cold, black heart. Her breathing quickened. She blinked fast, too fast. Her mother was gone. Her mother was gone.

No.

She felt her throat tighten, the air in the room thick and heavy, pressing against her skin. Her vision blurred, the walls seeming to warp and bend. She could hear something—an incessant buzzing in her ears, like bees trapped inside her skull, buzzing louder and louder until it drowned out everything else.

Y/n’s world collapsed inward. The sound of blood rushing in her ears, louder and louder, a deafening buzz. Her vision blurred, the room swimming, spinning. Mother. Mother is dead. She’s gone.

She tried to shake her head, tried to clear the sound, but it wouldn’t stop. The room was too bright. Too small. Too loud.

Her chest tightened, her breath coming in shallow gasps as the edges of her world shrank, leaving only the endless ringing in her ears and the hollow, aching emptiness that stretched out before her.

Gone.

Blinking rapidly, she shook her head, trying to clear it, but the buzzing only grew louder, drowning out everything else. She wanted to scream, wanted to tear the walls apart, to make everything stop, but her body wouldn’t move. Her hands twitched, her fingers curling into the sheets, the fabric slipping through her grasp as if it wasn’t even there.

And then, through the haze, she saw Aelor again, standing there, still holding the dagger to his throat, still crying, still screaming for a release that didn’t matter anymore.

For a moment, she just looked at him. Her mind was blank, her heart hollow. Then, like ice breaking through, her lips twisted into something resembling a smile, cold and sharp.

“You know what?” she said softly, her voice almost sweet. “You should do it.”

Aelor blinked, his tears stopping momentarily as confusion washed over his face. “W-what?”

“Go on,” she urged, her voice a low, deadly whisper now. “Slide it across your throat. End it, like you said.”

His face paled, and the dagger in his hand shook. “No… I don’t—”

“I’m not asking.” Her voice was like steel, cold and unyielding, her eyes dark and focused on him with terrifying intensity. “I’m telling you. Do it.”

“Y/n, please—”

“Do it!” Her voice cracked, sharp and vicious. “You want to die, don’t you? You hate me, don’t you? Well, go ahead, Aelor. Do it. Kill yourself. Right here, right now.”

He stumbling back, eyes wide with terror. “No… I don’t want to—”

Y/n stood, the sheet slipping from her naked body as she stepped forward, her eyes locked on his. “Oh, but you were so sure a moment ago. You were so brave.” Her voice was mocking now, cruel and sadistic. “What happened, Aelor? Where did all that courage go?”

He whimpered, pressing himself against the wall as if he could disappear into it, his eyes wide with horror.

And Y/n’s smile widened, her gaze never leaving his. "Do it," she whispered again, her voice now laced with something dark, something cold. Like Mother’s skin. Cold like her.

Criston stood outside the king’s chamber, listening to the muffled sobs of the king as he grieved for his dead wife. It was a sound that shook him—a king reduced to tears, broken by a loss so profound that even Criston, found himself feeling an unfamiliar weight in his chest.

Rhaenyra sat silently beside her father, pale and stiff, like a statue carved from stone. But Y/n was nowhere to be found.

"Where is she?" the king whispered, his voice hoarse. "Where is Y/n?"

Rhaenyra lifted her eyes, but said nothing, her gaze distant, lost. She was mourning too.

Criston stepped forward, his hand instinctively tightening around the pommel of his sword. He knew where the princess was. He always knew. She had a… pattern.

Viserys looked up, his eyes red and swollen. "Find her. Bring her back."

Criston nodded, his expression calm but his insides twisting. "Yes, my king." He turned swiftly, leaving the room with heavy steps, his mind already racing. The brothel. She's at the brothel.

He moved with purpose, the corridors of the Red Keep passing in a blur as he descended into the streets of King's Landing. The brothel was well know, a place where she often disappeared when the weight of her world became too much. The place where she would indulge in the pleasures that soothed her disturbed soul. Criston had been there many times—always to fetch her, to drag her back to the world she so desperately wanted to escape.

The madam greeted him at the door, her face a practiced mask of indifference. She knew why he was here. She always knew.

"The princess?" he asked, his voice low and urgent.

The madam didn’t even blink. "Upstairs. First room on the left."

Criston didn’t wait for more. He strode through the dimly lit hall, the stench of sweat, wine, and sex thick in the air. His heart pounded harder with each step, the weight of dread settling in his gut. He knew Y/n's moods—her recklessness—but something felt different this time. Something was wrong.

He reached the door, pushing it open without hesitation. The sight before him made his breath catch in his throat.

The man, her lover, lay sprawled on the floor, his throat slit from ear to ear, blood pooling beneath him like a dark, crimson lake. The smell of death hit him instantly—metallic, thick, suffocating.

And there, in the center of the room, sat Y/n. Naked, her knees pulled to her chest, her arms wrapped tightly around them. Her skin was stained with blood—his blood—and in her hand, she still clutched the dagger. Her face was blank, hollow, as if all life had drained from her.

Criston’s heart clenched painfully in his chest. Gods. What has she done?

Without thinking, he rushed to her side, kneeling in the blood, ignoring the way it soaked into his white cloak, staining it red. His hands were shaking as he reached for her, gently trying to pry the dagger from her grip. "My princess… Y/n… what have you done?" His voice was soft, filled with worry, but there was no judgment, no anger. Only concern. Only devotion.

She didn’t respond. She didn’t even look at him. Her eyes were distant, staring ahead as if she were seeing something far beyond this room, far beyond the dead body at her feet.

Criston’s heart raced as he pulled the bloodied dagger from her hand, tossing it aside. He reached for the corner of his cloak, the pristine white fabric now ruined, and began to gently wipe the blood from her skin. His hands moved with care, as if she were fragile—like a porcelain doll that might shatter at any moment.

"My princess," he whispered again, his voice tight with desperation. "It's me, Criston. It’s all right. You’re safe. I’m here."

But she still didn’t respond. Her breathing was shallow, her eyes unblinking. Criston could see the toll it was taking on her, the way her body shook faintly with each breath. She looked… lost. Like the little girl she had once been, scared and small.

“I want to go home,” she whispered, her voice so soft he almost didn’t hear it.

He froze, his hand stilling on her arm as he looked at her. She didn’t meet his gaze, didn’t seem to even recognize him.

“I want to go home to my mother,” she repeated, her voice breaking, fragile, as if she were clinging to some distant hope.

Criston’s heart shattered. The queen. He knew the news hadn’t reached her yet. Her world had been her mother, and now… The queen was gone.

He swallowed hard, blinking back the sting in his eyes as he reached for a cloak from the bed, wrapping it carefully around her naked body, covering her from the cold that seemed to seep into her skin. "You’ll go home," he whispered, his voice trembling just slightly. "I’ll take you home."

With a soft grunt, he lifted her into his arms, her body limp and unresponsive as he held her against his chest. She was so small, so light. He hated seeing her like this. She was always so strong, so sharp. But now… now she was silent, and it terrified him.

He held her tightly, cradling her as if she were the most precious thing in the world, his white cloak now drenched in blood as he carried her through the brothel.

The madam said nothing as they passed, and the other patrons kept their eyes averted. Criston’s face was set, his jaw clenched, his eyes forward.

I’ll take her home. It's alright. Everything would be fine.

Even if the rest of the world collapsed around them, he would be there. Always. For her. Only for her.

As they left the brothel behind, he felt her shift slightly in his arms, her breath warm against his neck.

“I’ll take you home, princess,” he whispered again, more to himself than to her. "You don't need to be scared anymore."

@ʀᴏᴛᴛᴇɴꜰʏʀᴇ 2024. ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ᴜꜱᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡᴇʙꜱɪᴛᴇꜱ

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sleepyparalysisdmon · 2 days ago

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SVT when you can't sleep

Requested? No! (But they are still open!)

Genre: Comfort

A/N: This is entirely self-indulgent because I woke up at 3:45am and couldn’t go back to sleep. For this reason, please forgive any typos or mistakes.

Seungcheol

Deeply disturbed when he finds that you are not next to him in bed. Gives it a few minutes, thinking you might have just gotten up to go to the bathroom or get some water, but when the time ticks by, he gets up to find you on the couch, watching TV. “Baby, what are you doing up?” He’ll ask concerned, glancing at the clock. When you say you woke up and couldn’t go back to sleep, he’s plopping onto the couch with you, making you curl into him. You feel bad because he needs his sleep, but he’ll brush you off, saying he’ll stay up with you any night. You do eventually doze off in his warmth while reruns of some sitcom play on the TV and he’ll carefully carry you back to bed.

Jeonghan

He feels you tossing and turning for what feels like hours. He’s tired and maybe even a little bit irritable when he touches your back, asking why you’re still up. He immediately feels bad for his irritability when you say you’re sorry, but that you had a nightmare and couldn’t go back to sleep. He’s tugging you into his side, patting your head in a ‘there, there’ sort of motion, asking you to tell him all about it. It becomes clear that you’re not going back to sleep anytime soon, but that’s okay, because he’ll just lie there next to you and talk, no matter how drowsy he is.

Joshua

Seems to have a sixth sense about when you get out of bed. You’ve barely got your slippers on before he’s asking where you’re going. When you say you just can’t sleep, he looks at the time, which is somewhere around 4am. He shrugs, getting out of bed as well, despite your insistence that he needs his sleep. He starts the coffee pot and gets a skillet out to make breakfast and you’re resigned to the fact that you both are now up for the day. He doesn’t have any complaints, not even when you both are dozing on the couch by 2pm.

Jun

When he realizes that you never actually got to sleep and are just laying in bed scrolling at nearly 1am, Jun simply takes the phone out of your hands and puts it back on the charger. “Play a game with me. Eye spy with my little eye…” You have to laugh because, well, it’s totally dark in the room now. But you play along because everything in your bedroom is familiar to you, even in the dark. You’re kind of touched at how aware of the little things in your room he is, even if he doesn’t live here (yet). Like he knows that you left a blue sweatshirt on the back of your vanity chair, or that there is little green detailing on your jewelry box. You doze off by about the tenth round and Jun keeps quiet after that.

Hoshi

He comes home late from practice and finds that you’re still awake, tossing and turning, and he’s concerned. When you say you just haven’t been able to settle down, he thinks for a split second and says, “Well, I was about to shower. Come with me, maybe the warmth will help.” There’s absolutely nothing suggestive about the idea. He even washes your hair for you, letting you relax as he scratches your scalp for way longer than was probably necessary. You’re out like a light as soon as your head hits the pillow. Now showering before bed, especially with him, is a regular occurrence to wind down.

Wonwoo

When he rolls over in the middle of the night to find that your beside lamp is still on and you’re still reading, he glances at the clock and then raises an eyebrow. “Must be a good book,” he mumbles. When you hum and tell him that it’s actually not, but you just can’t sleep, he’s sitting up next to you, leaning against the headboard. “Just how bad could it be?” He doesn’t acknowledge the ‘can’t sleep’ comment out loud, plucking the book from you and reading to you. He has to admit, the book does kind of suck, but he’s relieved to see that you’ve dozed off to the sound of his voice within a couple chapters.

Woozi

He knows your sleeping habits and also notices some of the things that don’t help it. But he’s hesitant to correct you, so he tries correcting these bad habits by correcting them in himself. Say you’re hanging out late with him while he works. The first thing he’ll do is turn down the caffeine at a certain point, saying he wants to actually get some sleep tonight. The second thing is that he’ll subtly rush to wrap things up quickly for the night so both of you can get home at a decent time. This technique won’t work every night because sometimes you don’t follow his lead or it’ll just be an exceptionally late night for him, but both of you tend to get better sleep when you keep a routine and cut the caffeine.

Didn’t you see this coming? The moment you say you can’t sleep, he’s serenading you. Sometimes it’s sweet and soft with the intent of soothing you, and sometimes it’s goofy and animated with the intent on making you lighten up when you’re particularly frustrated by your bad sleeping habits. Sometimes you scold him to rest his voice, but he Will. Not. Be. Stopped. He’ll sing entire albums for you until you’re sleepy again, so don’t test him.

Mingyu

Prepare to be cocooned the moment you say you can’t sleep. He’s so sweet and he also doesn’t work out for no reason. He’ll literally wrap you in the blanket and hold you tight against his chest, talking sweetly about what might be bothering you. Even if nothing in particular is bothering you and you just can’t sleep, that’s fine too. He’ll stroke your hair and keep you warm until you’re ready to sleep.

Minghao

He absolutely thinks it’s stress. He notices the pattern - when you have a lot going on a work or in your family life, you’re extremely restless. Like Woozi, he might make it seem like it’s for him when he says he wants to try out a new bedtime routine. He likes meditating and decides to do it before bed, asking you to join. Then, when you both are done, he pushes you towards the bedroom, following you with two cups of tea. It doesn’t work right away, but the longer he keeps up this little routine with you, the more he notices that your shoulders are more relaxed and you fall asleep faster.

Seungkwan

One night, you’re exceptionally restless and he asks what’s wrong. You complain that the street lights coming through the windows and all the city noise have been bothering you lately. He lets you be for the night - if you want to toss and turn for a while, if you want to get up, if you want to cuddle, whatever is fine with him. But the next night before bed, he hands you two small boxes, one with a brand new sleep mask and one with small noise cancelling earbuds, encouraging you to try them out. These two things will constantly be replaced and upgraded as needed as long as they seem to help.

Vernon

Might be a little dead to the world when he sleeps, but if you happen to nudge him in the middle of the night saying that you can’t sleep and you seem upset by it, he’s automatically offering to take a walk, no matter how groggy he is. Throws on some clothes and splashes his face with cold water in the bathroom so he can get with the program for you. Walks for hours if you need it - talking or in total silence, headphones or no headphones, holding hands or no physical contact at all. Absolutely does not matter to him. He’ll get back to sleep when you do.

Chan

Another one that makes it seem like it’s for him. He’s noticed your sleeping habits and how run down you seem by it, but doesn’t address it directly. Instead, he says he read an article that described how bad blue light was for sleep and he thinks he wants to try an electronic cleanse a couple hours before bed to see if it helps him. “Are you okay with that?” He’ll ask hopefully. Of course you agree, because it’s for him! He’ll resist the urge to giggle to himself when you pass out almost immediately when your head hits the pillow on the first night of this so-called electronic cleanse. He did not expect it his little plan to be successful so quickly.

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itneverendshere · 1 day ago

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all you've got to do is want something and then let yourself have it - r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe)

this is a combination of a few requests: "hella see jj instantly jumping into uncle jay mode when autumn comes (...) + "she's just so small against rafe and it's halloween where jj and monica and milo come stop by, and she's just so srunchy in her halloween onesie" + "the thought of baby cameron's first holiday being halloween! + thinking of jj having the most random nicknames for autumn that even rafes like what did u just call my daughter (...).

it was halloween—rafe’s first as a dad—and his baby girl, autumn, was just about a month old. his chest swelled with pride every time he looked at her—her little hands, those big blue eyes that still seemed so new to the world.

he'd never understood how people could fall in love so quickly with something so small. but now, looking down at her cute face, he couldn’t help but be consumed by it.

tonight wasn’t just another halloween—it was autumn's first.

rafe was determined to make it special. he'd even set up a few decorations in the living room, hoping to at least start the tradition early. not that she could enjoy it yet, but someday she would.

he heard the familiar chime of a text, swiping open his phone, he grinned at the picture you’d sent to the group chat. there was his baby girl, strapped in her car seat, snug as a bug, with her tiny fists curled up against the pumpkin onesie she was drowning in.

found her a decent costume, guess who’s about to come home! read your message.

he couldn’t stop himself from smiling as he replied, i bet she’s ready to see her daddy.

another message popped up from jj, his voice coming through as if he were already in full-on uncle jay mode. he hadn’t even seen the baby for more than a couple minutes, but he was all about claiming his spot in the family.

aw, my sweet little chipmunk must be so excited to see me!

“chipmunk?” rafe mumbled to himself, brows pulling together as he shook his head. that idiot had a nickname for autumn every week since she was born, and every week, they seemed to get more random.

he could picture it now—jj walking in and immediately stealing the kid from his arms, calling her some out-of-nowhere name.

just as he pocketed his phone, he heard the front door swing open.

there you were, his pretty wife with that tired-but-radiant look in your eyes that made him weak in the knees every time, and there was his little girl, her chubby cheeks smushed against the car seat strap, already half-asleep.

“hey, troublemaker,” he whispered to his daughter as he scooped her up, her onesie crinkling as she wiggled and blinked up at him.

rafe had never felt so big as he did when holding her; her whole body fit in his arms like she was meant to be there. the doorbell interrupted their little moment, and rafe smiled to himself.

right on time.

he opened the door to see jj, monica, and milo—the familiar, chaotic crew.

jj was already leaning in for autumn, hands outstretched like she was his to claim. he rushed over, grinning like a kid who’d just won the jackpot. “ohhh, chipmunk’s home!”

“alright, alright, hold on,” rafe grumbled, stepping back. he shook his head, giving jj a warning glance. “dude, she’s barely awake. can you let her at least stay asleep for five minutes?”

“eh, five minutes is all she needs,” jj smirked, taking her from rafe’s arms with ease. “monica always says she’s got my personality—just sleeps through everything.”

monica rolled her eyes. “i never said that. don’t put words in my mouth.”

“come on, rafey, princess fussy butt just needs her uncle.” he shot rafe a wink, then immediately started babbling nonsense to the baby, who blinked at him with that open-mouth stare, like she was trying to understand why everyone thought this dude was so funny.

"what did you just call my daughter?" rafe raised a brow. “princess fussy butt? really, dude?”

maybank just laughed. “better than ‘chipmunk'.”

milo, meanwhile, was tugging at your sleeve, showing you the skeleton costume he’d been wearing all day, rattling off about the latest candy haul he was plotting.

monica glanced over, shaking her head. “if you start with that nickname, she’s going to think it’s her real name by the time she’s two.”

“good,” jj smirked. “she’ll be ready to take on the world by then.”

rafe chuckled, glancing back at his baby, her scrunchy little self bundled in her onesie, eyes already half-shut.

“look at her,” he nodded towards jj, while you rested your head against his bicep.

“it’s her first holiday,” you murmured.

“yeah, and she’s got maniac jj, aunt monica, and the skeleton over there to keep it interesting,” he joked, watching milo comparing candy bars with jj in what looked like a serious negotiation.

he was still cradling autumn, making faces at her and talking to her in a voice that was a little too high-pitched for anyone but a baby. rafe watched from the couch now, his arms wrapped around you as you sat beside him, both of you listening to the holiday mess around you.

“hey, i swear, if she calls him ‘uncle jay’ before she can even say ‘mama’ or ‘dada,’ i’m gonna fucking' lose it,” rafe muttered under his breath to you, nudging your side.

you chuckled, lifting your gaze to meet his. “as long as she doesn’t call him ‘princess fussy butt,’ i think we’re good.”

first holidays were a big deal, but it was more than that.

this halloween was his first as a dad, and it felt like his whole life had changed in the best possible way. you two were building memories now, the kind that would last for years, traditions that he could carry with him and pass down.

milo, now done with his fifth round of candy negotiations with jj, walked over to you two, shaking his head in frustration as he planted himself right beside the couch.

“seriously, you gotta get him to shut up,” he complained, eyeing the blonde as he bounced autumn in his arms, making strange sounds in an attempt to get her to smile, and failing miserably.

rafe snickered, his arm still around you as he pulled you in closer. “what did i tell you, kid? maybank's gotta be himself. we can’t tame him.”

milo raised an eyebrow, then glanced at you, trying to change the subject. “so, can we continue the candy haul now, or…?”

you grinned, happy to let him off the hook. “you’ve been thinking about candy for the last hour, haven’t you?”

milo nodded vigorously. “well, yeah, but only because jay’s been ignoring me. i’m on a mission. i need your professional opinion on my stash.”

you shot a glance at rafe, who was trying to hide his amusement. “looks like milo’s ready to be your candy mentor,” you teased.

he shrugged. “i don’t know, man. i might’ve been planning to steal some of his stash later.” he winked at milo, who, despite being ten, was wise enough to know when they were messing around.

“i need your help to make sure i got the best stuff this year. it’s a whole strategic thing, okay?” he leaned in close, as if he were about to reveal some secret mission. “the candy’s gotta be in prime condition.”

you raised an eyebrow. “so, you’ve got it all laid out?”

“oh, you bet,” milo said, reaching for the plastic pumpkin bucket beside him. he held it up with a dramatic flourish, as if he were presenting treasure. “operation candy haul is a success.”

rafe nodded, “what do you need from us?”

milo went into full-on candy expert mode. “okay, here’s the rundown. first, we’ve got your classics—snickers, m&ms, twix. but then there’s the premium section—reese’s, kit-kats, and my personal favorite, the milky ways.” he paused, looking at you seriously. “you have got to help me sort this. we need an unbiased opinion.”

you tried not to chuckle at his intensity. “you’re taking this a little seriously for someone who’s only ten.”

“well, i’m not ten anymore,” he said matter-of-factly. “i’m, like, ten and a half now. that’s practically a teenager.”

“i’ll give you that,” rafe said with a grin, as you smothered a laugh. “so what’s next on your list, teenager milo?”

“for the final test, you’ve gotta rank the ones that have the most chocolate-to-nougat ratio. i’ll leave that to you.” milo said, clearly trusting rafe’s opinion on these serious matters.

“you’ve got it,” rafe replied, pretending to think deeply. “the most chocolate-to-nougat ratio… now that’s a crucial step. can’t mess with the classics, kid.”

“exactly!” milo nodded, looking up at you. “we need to do a double-check of his candy haul. make sure the ratios are balanced.”

you pretended to ponder it, peeking at the candy bucket with exaggerated seriousness. “okay, you’ve convinced me. i’m in.”

you turned to rafe, who was already pulling a few pieces of candy from the pile, ready to play along. jj, still holding autumn, caught wind of what was happening and walked over with a dramatic sigh.

“what’s going on here? i hear talk of candy, and i need in.”

“too late,” milo said, grinning at him like he’d won a major victory. “i’m running this operation now.”

jj, not one to be outdone, threw a playful scowl at him. “when did you start talking back?”

as you and rafe dove into the candy sorting, a tiny whimper broke the festive ambience. everyone paused, glancing over to where jj was still cradling autumn and her face had gone from sleepy to fussy in seconds, her lips wobbling as her eyes squeezed shut.

“oh no, no, no...” jj muttered, bouncing her a little too enthusiastically, trying to avoid the inevitable meltdown. “come on, chipmunk, we’re just getting started here—don’t bail on me now.”

her hands clenched, and then came the wail—a high-pitched, all-out baby cry that instantly turned heads, her tiny face was scrunched, cheeks red, and her lungs proving just how powerful they were for someone so small.

“oh, jj,” you sighed, moving to take her, but rafe was already up, a smile spreading across his face as he reached for her.

“alright, alright, time’s up,” rafe said, easing her from jj’s arms. he held her close, gently rocking her, his hand rubbing soothing circles on her tiny back. “hey, sweet girl,” he murmured softly, his voice dropping into that warm, gentle tone reserved just for her. “shh, it’s okay.”

as if by magic, her cries began to ease, her little body relaxing against rafe as she blinked up at him, still sniffling but calming with each second. she reached a tiny hand up, clutching onto his sweater.

jj put his hands on his hips, letting out an exaggerated sigh. “see that? kid won’t cry for anyone else. i think i’m losing my charm.”

rafe smirked, not looking up from his daughter, “told you, maybank. you gotta have the touch.”

you leaned into him as he sat back down, resting your chin on his shoulder as you watched her settle, her wide eyes blinking up at you both, taking in the world from the safe haven of her dad’s arms.

the blonde grinned, putting a hand on his heart in mock sadness. “well, fine then. guess she’s got her favorites.”

monica elbowed him, rolling her eyes, “they made her, you idiot.”

“ew.” he gave you and rafe a teasing side-eye, earning a good-natured smack from your sister.

autumn, oblivious to all the drama, had already snuggled back into her dad’s chest, letting out a sleepy sigh. rafe’s face softened as he looked down at her, his fingers tracing gentle circles on her back.

halloween had never felt more complete, and as you looked at your husband holding your daughter, you knew it wouldn’t be the last.

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mapis-putellas · 1 day ago

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𝑴𝒚 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒊𝒄𝒊𝒄𝒍𝒆

Pairing: Aitana Bonmati x reader

Words: 1800+

Warnings: none

Summary: Aitana is visiting you in your little hometown in England when it snows.

Waking up with Aitana curled into your side, her small frame clinging onto you for warmth, was a blissful experience. Even though it was winter and the house was a bit chilly, her presence radiated a warmth you’d grown so fond of. You carefully stretched, trying not to disturb her, but the movement must have shifted something, and she let out a sleepy murmur, nuzzling further into your neck.

With a content sigh, you turned your head slightly to glance out the window. And then your eyes widened in shock and excitement. The entire world outside was blanketed in a thick layer of snow, glistening under the early morning light. It was a rare sight in your hometown, and you couldn’t remember the last time it had snowed this heavily. You were practically vibrating with excitement at the thought of experiencing this with Aitana

“Oh my God, baby, it snowed!” you whispered excitedly, gently nudging her

She grumbled, burying her face deeper against your neck. “No… too cold,” she muttered in her thickly accented English, her voice still thick with sleep.

You chuckled, petting her hair gently. “Come on, cariño, you have to see it! It’s beautiful! Look outside!”

She let out a reluctant sigh and cracked one eye open, barely lifting her head off of you to glance toward the window. Her brows knitted in confusion, and she scrunched up her nose in a way that made your heart melt. “What… what is this? So… white,” she mumbled, blinking as if the sight was somehow offensive

You couldn’t contain your laughter, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “It’s snow, Aitana! Proper snow! Isn’t it beautiful?”

She turned her face back into your shoulder, whining softly. “No, no, is not beautiful. Is cold. Why you do this?” she muttered accusingly, as if you’d conjured the snowfall yourself just to annoy her.

“Why I…?” You laughed harder, amused by her sleepy indignation. “Baby, I didn’t do this. It’s just… you know, weather. Winter. It’s normal.”

She huffed, still refusing to budge from her warm spot against you. “But… is too much,” she grumbled, half-asleep, pressing her face into the crook of your neck. “I did not bring clothes for this.”

“Well, you’re in luck, because I’ve got plenty,” you said, shifting to sit up. “Come on, let’s get you dressed. We’re going outside!”

Her eyes flew open in horror as she looked at you like you’d suggested some sort of extreme, unreasonable activity. “Outside? No, no, no. You are crazy,” she said, shaking her head vehemently. “You go, I stay here, warm.”

“Oh, no you don’t,” you teased, gently tugging at her arm. “You’re going to experience a proper snowy morning with me, and you’re going to love it.”

Her lips pursed in a pout, her wide, sleepy eyes fixed on you with a look of sheer betrayal. “Cariño… por favor. Too cold,” she whined, pulling the covers up to her chin.

But you were determined. You tugged her up, guiding her to sit and peppering her face with kisses until she finally gave in, albeit reluctantly.

She sighed, already softening. "You... you have to carry me if I... become frozen."

You grinned, knowing you'd won her over. "Deal. I'll carry you back if you turn into a little icicle."

With a resigned groan, Aitana rolled out of bed, still muttering about how freezing it was. You rummaged through your wardrobe, finding the thickest clothes you could for her. She ended up wearing an oversized hoodie of yours, a scarf, gloves, and one of your heavy winter coats on top of everything. By the time you'd finished bundling her up, she looked adorably puffed up, like a small marshmallow.

"You look so cute," you said, unable to hide your amusement, dressed similarly yourself.

She scowled at you, crossing her arms. "I look... I look ridiculous."

"No, you look perfect. Now, come on!" You took her gloved hand and led her outside, where the cold air hit immediately. Aitana shivered, instinctively pressing closer to you.

"It's... muy frío," she said, her accent even thicker as she tried to convey her discomfort. "Too much frío."

You laughed, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "You'll get used to it. Now, let's build a snowman!"

She looked at you as if you'd suggested something utterly absurd. "Snow...man?"

"Yes, a snowman! Haven't you ever built one before?"

Aitana shook her head, her eyes wide with confusion and fascination. "No... in Spain, we... no snow. Not like this."

"Then this is the perfect time to learn!" you said, dropping to your knees and starting to gather snow into a pile.

Aitana watched you, still hesitant. "This is... how you do it?"

"Sort of. Here, come help me roll this into a big ball."

After a few more moments of convincing, she reluctantly knelt beside you, shivering a little as she put her hands in the snow. You showed her how to pack it together, and she quickly got the hang of it, rolling a snowball along the ground until it grew bigger and bigger.

"Like this?" she asked, looking at you for reassurance.

"Yes! Exactly. You're a natural," you said, beaming at her.

She smiled, looking proud of herself as she continued rolling the snowball. Despite the cold, she seemed to be enjoying it, glancing up at you every so often with a small grin on her face.

Once you had the base of the snowman built, you guided her through making the middle section and finally the head, placing them on top of each other. When the snowman was assembled, you found some small stones and a stick to make a face and arms.

"Look, tana! You made your first snowman!" you said, clapping your hands in delight.

She stared at it, a little laugh escaping her. "He is... muy feo."

You laughed, nudging her playfully. "He's not ugly! He's unique. Just like you."

Aitana rolled her eyes but couldn't hide her smile. She turned to you, her cheeks flushed pink from the cold, and held her gloved hands out toward you. "I... am frozen now. You carry me back, sí?"

"Oh no, we're not done yet! We still have to make snow angels!"

She looked at you like you'd completely lost your mind. "What is... snow angel?"

"Lie down in the snow and move your arms and legs. Like this," you said, lying down beside her and demonstrating. "Come on, it's fun!"

Aitana hesitated, glancing down at the snow-covered ground, clearly debating if it was worth it. With a small sigh, she finally lay down beside you, copying your movements as you showed her how to make the angel shape.

After a few seconds, she stopped, laughing. "This is... ridiculous," she said, but her laughter betrayed her enjoyment.

"Ridiculous, but fun!" you replied, grinning over at her.

She looked up at the sky, her smile softening as she watched the little snowflakes drifting down. "It is... bonita."

You reached over, taking her gloved hand in yours. "Yeah, it really is."

After a few moments of quiet, you sat up, brushing the snow off your clothes. "Alright, one last thing before we go inside."

She groaned. "There is... more?"

"Just one more thing, I promise. A snowball fight!"

Before she could protest, you scooped up a handful of snow and tossed it at her, hitting her gently on the shoulder. Her eyes went wide, and she looked at you with a mix of shock and indignation

"Did you... just throw snow at me?" she asked, as if the very idea was absurd.

"Yup!" you replied, grinning mischievously. "It's called a snowball fight. Come on, hit me back!"

Aitana narrowed her eyes, a playful glint appearing in her gaze as she scooped up some snow and tossed it at you, missing completely. You laughed, dodging her attempt and quickly gathering more snow to toss back at her.

Soon, the two of you were engaged in a full-on snowball fight, laughter echoing through the quiet neighborhood as you chased each other around, pelting each other with snow. Aitana's laughter was infectious, her Spanish curses mixing with her giggles whenever you managed to hit her with a well-aimed snowball.

Finally, breathless and covered in snow, you both collapsed onto the ground, lying side by side as you caught your breath.

"You... are very... loca," Aitana said between breaths, her voice filled with fondness.

"You're the one who went along with it," you replied, grinning up at the sky.

She turned to you, her eyes softening. "Only... only because it is you."

Your heart melted at her words, and you reached over, brushing a stray snowflake from her hair. "You're the best, you know that?"

She smiled, her cheeks pink. "I think... you are the best."

The two of you lay there in comfortable silence for a while, the world around you quiet and still, as if you were the only two people in the world. Eventually, the cold began to creep in, and you shivered, sitting up.

"Alright, let's get you inside before you really do turn into an icicle," you said, offering her a hand.

She took it gratefully, standing up and brushing the snow off her coat. "I think... I am already... frozen."

"Well, lucky for you, I know just how to warm you up," you said, winking at her, scooping her up into your arms with the intention of carrying her back just like you promised.

Back inside, you quickly made some hot chocolate, handing her a steaming mug as she sat down on the couch, wrapping a blanket around herself. She took a sip, letting out a contented sigh.

"This... this is good," she said, her eyes closing in bliss.

You smiled, sitting beside her and snuggling under the blanket with her. She leaned her head on your shoulder, her small frame pressed against yours as she warmed up. You wrap your arm around her shoulders and press your lips against the top of her head.

After a few moments, she looked up at you, a playful glint in her eyes. "Next time... maybe we go to a warm place, sí?"

You laughed, nodding. "Deal. Next holiday, somewhere sunny. But you have to admit, this was fun, right?”

She let out a soft chuckle, nodding. "Sí. You... you make it fun."

You leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. "I'm glad you think so."

As the two of you sat there, cozy and warm, watching the snow continue to fall outside, you felt an overwhelming sense of happiness. It didn't matter where you were, as long as you were with Aitana.

Tags:

@marysfics @ceesimz @girlgenius1111 @codiemarin @silentwolfsstuff @goldenempyrean @xxnaiaxx @liloandstitchstan

#aitana bonmati #aitana bonmati x reader #woso x reader #woso community #woso fanfics #woso appreciation #woso one shot

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fastandcarlos · 5 hours ago

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Save The Day : ̗̀➛ Carlos Sainz

summary: your shopping trip couldn't have gotten much worse, until a stranger approaches and swoops in to save the day

“Excuse me, is everything alright? You look in need of some help.”

Your eyes flickered up at the sound of an unfamiliar voice, noticing a man stood just beside you. You were walking all over the place as you tried to push your daughter’s pram, balancing your shopping bags in both of your hands, barely able to walk in a straight line as things stopped to drop out onto the floor.

You smiled shyly across at the man as he picked the bits that you had dropped off of the floor. Once he’d put them in a bag he took the bags from both of your hands, walking by your side. Walking immediately felt easier as you focused on pushing the pram out of the store and over to where your car was parked.

The man carried your bags with ease, the strength easily defined in his arms as he walked at your pace. You didn’t quite know where to look as you walked, feeling his eyes watching over you.

“Where’s your car?” He asked you, watching you point to your small car that was hidden by a much fancier looking vehicle, a car far too expensive for the area where you lived.

There was a shade of embarrassment in your cheeks as you walked, feeling slightly humiliated that you weren’t able to carry your bags. Trying to balance all the weight was hard, but you were stubborn, and liked to think that you could take on the world all by yourself.

“I’m just here,” you told him, reaching into your bag for your keys.

You opened up the boot, going to take the bags, only for the man to swerve you. “Allow me,” he grinned, easily lifting the bags and placing them in the back of your car.

You stepped back as he did so, watching as he carefully let go of them. “Thank you, you didn’t have to do that for me, most people just walk straight on by.”

“Well, I’m not most people,” he told you, a wide smile on his face. “Most people are assholes, it’s human nature to help someone when you see them struggling, or in my eyes at least.”

You offered him a grin as you unbuckled your daughter’s pram to start getting her into the car. “Saying thank you doesn’t really feel like enough, there’s got to be something that I can do for you.”

His head shook, taking a step back and watching as you took your daughter into your arms, hearing her let go of a squirm. You hated taking her out when she was asleep, but at this point you couldn’t wait to get home and forget about your struggle.

“She’s beautiful,” the man whispered behind you, leaning across and tickling against her tummy, bringing a smile to her face again. “I bet your mummy and daddy feel like they won the lottery with you,” he added, only to watch your smile drop, eyes landing on the ground.

“I-it’s just me,” you stuttered, immediately hearing the man mumble several apologies beside you. “Don’t be sorry, I’m used to it by now. Most of the time I’m alright, the two of us make quite the team,” you smiled, not wanting him to feel bad for you.

It didn’t stop the man feeling guilty for making his assumptions, sensing that you found things harder than you were letting on to him.

As the two of you fell silent, your daughter soon began to get quite unsettled in your hold. You quickly tried to settle her, bouncing her in your arms, but as a gust of wind blew through the car park, your eyes soon darted onto the sight of her pram beginning to blow away from you.

“I got it!” The man shouted, running down the car park and quickly grabbing onto it.

“You really are saving the day for me today, aren’t you?” You smiled.

He looked around and found the brakes of the pram, quickly putting them on. Before you knew it, he had managed to collapse it down, placing it into the back of your car too, making sure not to squash any of your shopping.

“You must have had some practice doing that before.”

“No,” he smiled back across at you, “but I assumed it can’t be too hard to figure out. I’ve not really got any experiences with babies, although I’d like to,” he carried on, surprising himself that he suddenly decided to confess such a thing to someone that he barely knew.

You didn’t quite know what to say as he spoke, offering him a sympathetic smile. You weren’t expecting him to be so open with you, leaving you a little loss for words. You almost felt bad for standing in front of him with your daughter in your arms, as if you were showing off that you had something that he seemed to want.

“Does your partner not want children?”

His eyes widened at your question, unaware that you had dropped yourself in it almost as much as he had done with you only a few moments earlier, feeling bad when his head shook at you.

“I don’t have a partner,” he told you, scratching nervously over the top of his head. “I’m going through life on my own currently, that’s why I have so much time to help other people when they’re in a mess.”

“Well, you definitely saved me from one today.”

He was glad to have been able to help you out, but now he found himself unable to take his eyes off of your daughter. There was something about him that seemed to be drawing her to him too, her eyes watching him closely every time he moved or spoke.

“I didn’t even get the chance to introduce myself, I’m Carlos by the way.”

“I’m Y/N,” you smiled back across at him.

“And who’s your little one?” He asked, poking your daughter’s tummy again.

A giggle came from her that left you both grinning. “This is Luna,” you told him, “although I think you might be able to call her your biggest fan judging from the smile on her face.”

“Well, I like to keep my fans happy, so do you think Luna would like to hang out again sometime?” Carlos offered, “I mean, only if that’s something that her mummy would like to do too.”

“I think she would,” you smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, “and I don’t think her mummy would mind either if she got the chance to see you again, maybe coffee sometime?”

Carlos nodded in reply to your offer. “I’d love to grab a coffee with you, well, the both of you. How about I give you my number and you can let me know a time that works best for the two of you?”

“Yeah, that would be good,” you told him, walking across to place your daughter into her car seat so that you could take Carlos’ phone from him.

His smile was wide as he passed it across, “make sure you text yourself from my phone so you have my number too. You can save my number as the guy who saved the day.”

“You’re a bit of a hero, aren’t you?” You smiled.

“Well, I certainly try my best.”

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

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ninetailedfoxmanchi · 2 days ago

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Mafia! BTS - They Want to Spoil You

Warnings: /

A/N: They realize you're not well-off or are even struggling financially and that makes them want to take care of you even more. Per popular request <3.

MASTERLIST

Jin

Jin was already lying in bed when you got out of the bathroom. You grabbed your pyjamas from your bag as he watched you change.

"Oh no ..." you mumbled when you saw that the seams in your side tore and left a gap in your top. "Can I borrow a t-shirt?" you asked as you turned to your boyfriend but you already knew the answer. You were beginning to suspect too that Jin even preferred it if you wore his clothes.

"Do you need new pyjamas?"

"No, I'll just sew this up and they'll be like new again," you told as you grabbed Jin's t-shirt from one of the dressers.

"Just get a new pair," said Jin as he sat leaning against his pillow.

"I can already barely get through the month, I can't just buy new clothes whenever there's a tear in them," you laughed as you pulled on Jin's white t-shirt. You climbed into the bed but your smile faded when you saw Jin frowning.

"Are you okay?" you asked gently and scooted closer to him.

"You barely get through the month?" asked Jin seriously. Your mouth parted and your face went blank. Your cheeks turned pink as you thought about how much less you earned compared to Jin. You had made your peace with it already when you two began dating but the difference between your incomes and savings never crossed Jin's mind.

"It's not that bad," you smiled and tried to reassure your boyfriend. "I have a beginner's salary, it's normal."

"It's not normal if you're struggling," said Jin sternly as he sat up straight and his hand cupped your cheek. "Let me take care of you." He frowned even worse.

"You don't have to take care of me, Jin, I'm fine, really," you insisted although the past few months have been really tight for you financially. Your rent took most of the money whilst you were staying at Jin's place the majority of the nights. Then there was the food and the bills, the everyday things and the public transport. Your phone was so battered that the screen had began to flicker a couple of weeks ago.

A look so determined filled Jin's eyes that it began to worry you a little.

"Please don't think about it anymore, Jinnie," you begged as you took his cheeks and kissed him. He struggled to respond at first, his mind in a storm, but he couldn't resist your soft lips.

The next day when you woke up, you reached for the nightstand blindly to check the time on your phone but you couldn't find it. You rose your head and frowned when your phone was nowhere to be seen.

"Have you seen my phone?" you mumbled sleepily when you came into the living area, finding Jin already dressed in another one of his perfect outfits. It must have been late in the morning judging by the daylight if not close to noon. Jin liked to sleep in as well but not that day. He had been up since early morning.

"Here you go, princess," said Jin as he handed you a phone.

"This isn't my phone?" you asked confused and tried to give it back to Jin. It seemed brand new so you figured he changed his.

"It's your phone," insisted Jin, his eyes still filled with the same unbending look as the night before. You frowned and tapped the screen. The background was the same as on your phone, the contacts and the apps, everything was the same but the machine itself.

You looked up and finally noticed the dozens of bags lying around on the sofa and the coffee table.

"What's all this?" you breathed, your frown only deepening.

"You bought this for yourself, princess," said Jin as he took your free hand and placed a black card in your palm.

"N-No, I didn't," you backed away but tried to give the card back to Jin at the same time. He didn't even look at your hand.

"Jin, please," you begged when you realized what he was doing. "I don't need any of this—"

"Y/N," warned Jin when he turned to you. "Not another word." His hands caressed your neck gently before they moved up to your jaw and made you look up at him. He leaned in slowly and kissed you, silencing any protests that might want to come out of your mouth.

"I'll know if you won't use the card, Y/N," he cautioned against your lips, sending shivers down your spine, but you only wanted another kiss. Jin backed away when you searched for his plush lips again. You opened your eyes, seeing the stern look on Jin's handsome face.

"Just let me take care of you, princess," he spoke quietly, his chest vibrating with the deepness of his voice. You nodded weakly, folding at the prospect of Jin's affection. True to your presumptions, he rewarded you with another tender kiss.

Namjoon

You found your boyfriend sitting on the sofa, checking something on his laptop when you took a seat beside him.

"Are you busy?" you asked quietly, not wanting to disturb him.

"No, it's just some stupid emails," said Namjoon absently, his eyes scanning through the unnecessarily long blocks of text. "What is it, baby?"

"I was just ... I was wondering if ..." You cleared your throat as you squeezed your hands nervously. "If you could maybe lend me some money," you asked with difficulty. Your cheeks flushed pink in embarrassment when Namjoon tore his gaze from his laptop and looked at you, his eyebrows furrowing into a heavy frown.

"I'd pay you back everything," you said quickly. "It's just for rent—"

"What do you mean you'd pay me back?" asked Namjoon sternly, a tempest of thoughts behind his dark irises.

"I'll get my paycheck next week and I'll pay you back every cent, I promise," you explained although the demanding look on his features gave you little hope. His pensive eyes studied your face wordlessly. "It's okay if you don't want to, I'll ask my mom—"

"For rent?" Namjoon cut you off. His frown only grew deeper as he struggled to understand what you were asking.

"It's okay, I shouldn't have asked; I know it's weird," you said quickly and took Namjoon's hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. You tried to get up but he caught your wrist and pulled you back down.

"How much do you make?" demanded Namjoon. His voice was gentle but no less inquisitive. Your face went blank as more heat rose to your face. You didn't even make a hundredth of what Namjoon was bringing in in your first job as a beginner with no position.

"You know I don't make as much as you do," you swallowed. Even though your answer gave little information, Namjoon realized for the first time since you began dating that you might be financially unstable. He knew what you did and you liked your job but since money was never an issue for him, he never considered it might be an issue for you.

"I'll take care of it," nodded Namjoon and smoothed his thumb gently across your cheek before he got up.

"Take care of what?" you asked wide-eyed as you stared up at him. "Namjoon, I just need—"

"I'll take care of it," repeated Namjoon and gave your forehead a kiss as he buttoned his suit jacket. He grabbed his phone and his wallet and made for the door.

"Namjoon," you called again but he was adamant and gone.

A few hours later, you were looking through the fridge to think of some ideas for dinner when Namjoon came back. He set down a brown folder on the kitchen isle with a credit card on top of it before he pulled off his jacket and came to you for a kiss. You closed the fridge blindly as you responded to his lips but your mind was on the folder.

"What's this?" you asked as you removed the card from the brown paper and opened the file. It was a title deed with your name on it as part of a property transfer. The apartment in question was your rental paid in full and written in your name. Your eyebrows gathered into a frown as your mouth parted and your stomach gave a nervous squeeze.

"I told you I'd take care of it," said Namjoon easily and grabbed some orange juice from the fridge. You stared at him, your frown as deep as ever.

"You bought my apartment?" you asked astounded.

"No, you bought your apartment," said Namjoon as he drank the cold juice from a crystal glass. His fingers sat down on top of the dark credit card and he pushed it towards you. The letters of your name were engraved on the luxurious-painted plastic.

"Are you insane?" you blurted, your chest riddled with guilt. You were used to working hard for everything you had and hated accepting things from others. Even birthday gifts if too extravagant made you uncomfortable.

"I can't accept this, I won't accept this, Namjoon," you insisted although you could see it on his face that you were shouting in deaf ears. Your boyfriend was one of the most intransigent people in the world and when he decided on something there was no changing his mind.

"It's yours," said Namjoon nonchalantly, "Whether you like it or not."

Your eyes flinched in the direction of the crackling fireplace as you held the folder in your hands. Namjoon followed your gaze and smiled with amusement.

"I have a digital copy, baby," said Namjoon as he came closer to you. "The apartment is yours and so is the card." His arms wrapped around your waist as he pulled you to him, his forehead almost leaning against yours whilst you stared up at him.

"I'll know if you won't spend anything," he purred a warning and came even closer. "And I won't like it if you don't spend anything." His deep voice gave you goosebumps as your eyes flicked down to his plush lips.

"I want to spoil you, baby," said Namjoon against your soft mouth. "You should let me." He closed the space between your lips and kissed you deeply enough for the folder to fall from your hands as he pulled your waist to his hips.

Yoongi

"Fuck ..." you mumbled under your breath as you scrolled through the bills on your email, your back against the foot of the sofa and your laptop on the coffee table. Your stomach was in a tight knot. You tried to calculate the priorities but even that surpassed the amount that was left on your bank account from your last paycheck.

"What is it?" asked Yoongi as he sat on the sofa behind you, his legs on each side of your frame when he kissed the top of your head.

"Nothing," you whispered and closed your laptop quickly. You looked up and gratefully responded to Yoongi kissing your lips. His hand was caressing your neck gently, the cold rings on his long fingers giving you goosebumps as they made contact with your warm skin.

"You sure?" asked Yoongi when he pulled away a little. You set your eyes forward again and bit your lip as you nodded. Yoongi's hand glided around your neck and pushed back your soft hair as he began to run his fingers through it. You leaned your head against the sofa and closed your eyes.

"Tell me what's wrong," said Yoongi. His voice was deep and quiet but no less authoritative.

"Nothing's wrong," you insisted as you shook your head a little. Yoongi frowned more and more with each second. You didn't even have to open your eyes to see his expression. You knew that he knew that you were hiding something.

"You don't trust me anymore, jagi?" asked Yoongi. His hand came down to your cheek and caressed you gently. Your eyes opened at those words and you turned around to look at him.

"Of course I trust you," you spoke feverishly.

"Why won't you talk to me then?" said Yoongi as he tucked a lock of hair behind your ear.

"Because it's nothing," you lied. "And you'll worry and think that you have to fix it."

"Fix what?" pressed Yoongi. You groaned desperately and buried your face into the sofa. Yoongi seized the opportunity and opened your laptop behind your back, his eyes scanning over the bills.

"No, wait—" you tried to close the laptop when you noticed what he was doing but it was already too late. He saw everything.

"Yoongi, don't do anything," you begged as you got up to your knees and cupped his face. The look in his eyes was as hard and unmoving as a mountain and your words fell on deaf ears. He pulled the wallet from his back pocket and slid out a slick black credit card.

"Here you go, kitten, happy anniversary," said Yoongi as he offered you the card. You stood up with a frown.

"Our anniversary won't be for three months," you protested although that was far from Yoongi's point or yours for that matter. He stood up as well, took your hand and wrapped your fingers around his card.

"You can give me that card all you want but I won't spend a dime," you insisted. Yoongi turned to you slowly and took a good look at you. His eyes made your stomach dance with butterflies and fireworks.

"Fine," said Yoongi as he came closer to you. "Then I'll make you." His voice send shivers down your spine as he towered over you. He took your hand and you had no choice but to follow him. He drove you half-way across town until you arrived to a large glass building.

"Why are we here?" you questioned when Yoongi opened the car door for you. "Please, let's just go home." You took your boyfriend's hand but he wasn't paying your tugs no mind.

"Yoongi," you gasped under your breath and squeezed his hand tightly when he led you inside the Cartier boutique. It was too late to leave without causing a scene in front of the elegant saleswomen.

"Mr Min," said the older one of the two with her hair in a neat bun. "We're so happy to see you're back. It's been too long," smiled the other lady and took in the sight of you, giving you a warm smile as well.

"We have a very special thing for you," said the older lady and disappeared in the back.

"Yoongi," you pleaded in a whisper as you tugged on his hand a little but his fingers were tightly intertwined with yours. Yoongi looked down into your eyes, defeating you in an instance.

"This is one of our rarest and most sought after items, Mr Min," purred the older saleslady. She placed a beautiful red box on the glass counter before you and opened it with care. "This is out Panthere Maillon Etrier necklace in 18 carat white gold. It's distinguished for its geometric shape with the center of the necklace set with brilliant cut diamonds around 2,15 carats."

Your lips parted as your face went blank in the face of the exquisite piece of jewellery. You had never even stood in a jewellery shop, much less in Cartier itself. Yoongi observed your reaction for a while before he nodded to the saleslady.

"Very good," she smiled and motioned to her assistant to take care of the payment.

You realized that the purchase was agreed to and looked up at your boyfriend with wide eyes.

"Please," said the younger saleslady when she gestured elegantly at the payment terminal. Your gaze shifted between her, the astronomical number on the screen and Yoongi.

"Your card, kitten," said Yoongi as he stared down at you. You were still clutching to the black piece of plastic in your clammy hand. You swallowed before you inched the card closer to the terminal until it made a sound of approval.

"See? It's not that hard," purred Yoongi in your ear as his arm wrapped around your waist. You turned to him, your lips only inches apart. "You can use it for other things now too, kitten, and I'll know if you won't," he spoke quietly, his hot breath teasing your mouth as he slowly closed the space between you and kissed you greedily.

Hoseok

Although you have been dating Hoseok for a while now, you were never very comfortable talking about money with him. You grew up poor and even though you were just starting your first job now, you still struggled quite a lot. You didn't mind that Hoseok made a lot of money, you accepted that right in the beginning of your relationship, but you never wanted to talk about your situation because of that. Yet when you had a glass of wine too much with your dinner last week, you told Hoseok about your upbringing and how the notion of always having to save money was still rooted deep inside of you.

You shouldn't have said anything, though, because once Hoseok found out about it, he began to shower you with gifts every single day. You didn't mind him paying for meals when you went out but the gifts he was giving you now weren't anything short of luxurious.

"Hobi, I swear if you get me another thing—" you threatened when you saw the timeless Hermès Kelly on your nightstand. Your stomach twisted into knots just at the idea of how much it must have cost.

When you turned around with your index pointed at Hoseok, he was standing so close to you that the wind was knocked out of you. Your lips parted as Hobi towered over you.

"Or what?" he asked with an amused smile resting on his lips and in his dark eyes. You were at a loss for words. "Or what, kitten?" he asked again, taking another half a step closer to you and closed the space between your bodies.

"You should look what's inside, baby," Hoseok encouraged, enjoying every moment of seeing the puzzled and flushed look on your face.

You looked inside the leather bag hesitantly and found a creamy white jewellery box inside. It was already clutched in your fingers before you let it go and took a step back, your hands hugging your elbows as the corners of your eyebrows pulled downwards.

"I don't want it, you spoke weakly as Hoseok frowned at your reaction.

"You haven't even looked at it," said Hoseok but you shook your head and backed away some more.

"I don't want it - I didn't earn it and I sure as hell don't deserve it," you tried to leave the bedroom but Hoseok caught your wrist.

"Y/N," he called as he cupped your neck just beneath your jaw and made you look up at him but you were avoiding his eyes. "Y/N," Hoseok warned again and you looked at him. His frown softened when he saw the sad look on your face.

"That's the least of what you deserve, baby." He brushed his thumbs along the gentle line of your jaw. "Stop fighting me and let me take care of you." Hoseok leaned his forehead against yours, his closeness calming down your anxiety immediately. Your arms found their way around his sides as you came closer, pressing your cheek against his chest.

"It's okay, baby, you'll get used to it," Hoseok spoke gently against your hair before he kissed the top of your head, his hands caressing your back.

"Wear it to the opera tonight, baby," he said after a while. "Will you wear it for me, kitten?" Hoseok cupped your cheeks again and made you look up at him. You nodded a little. He smiled and leaned in, his thumbs caressing your soft skin as he kissed you tenderly.

When you finally found the courage to come near the bag and the jewellery box again, you were already wearing your evening dress. You opened the delicate velvet box and found a pearl necklace in 18 carat yellow gold. The letters Mikimoto were engraved in the satin interior of the box.

"Do you like it?" smiled Hoseok as he came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist before he pressed a soft kiss on your bare shoulder.

You nodded weakly as you studied the necklace without a breath in your lungs. "It's beautiful."

Hoseok took the necklace from the box as you scooped up your hair and the cold pearls made contact with your warm skin. Hoseok fastened the clip in the back and took your soft hair from your hands, his fingers letting them fall down your back.

"You're so beautiful, baby," purred Hoseok when his hands returned to your waist and pulled you to him as his lips left tender kisses along your shoulder.

Jimin

When you got back from work, you were surprised to find Jimin already at home. It was barely the afternoon and he sometimes stayed at the office until evening.

"Hey," you greeted softly as you cuddled up next to him on the sofa. You wrapped your arms around his sides and leaned against his chest but he didn't budge. Jimin was pretending to watch the TV and refused to even say hello.

You sat up perplexed as you studied your boyfriend's sullen frown.

"What's wrong?" you breathed, your chest heavy with guilt although you had no idea what you did wrong. You took your boyfriend's hand and squeezed it pleadingly but Jimin gave no reaction.

"Jimin-ah," you tried again, your voice almost cracking. You couldn't stand having him be upset with you, especially when you had no idea what could have made him react this way. Jimin was never upset with you no matter what, which is why his reaction affected you so much.

The desperation in your voice made Jimin break his harsh facade. He turned to you frowning no less.

"Why do you think I gave you that card?" said Jimin bitterly but you were lost. He leaned forward and grabbed the bank statement from the coffee table and showed it to you.

"You promised me that you would spend money on that card, Y/N," said Jimin when you read through the humble list of meals you had paid with Jimin's card, the 30 dollars that you had spent on buying some cute office supplies and the 20 dollars you had left at the bookstore.

"But I did," you insisted, showing Jimin the bank statement that he knew by heart now. He rolled his eyes and glared at you again. You had never seen him behave like this before. His jaw clenched as his eyes narrowed at you. A part of you knew that he wanted you to spend more money but there was nothing you really needed that much. After Jimin found out that you weren't exactly financially stable, he pulled the card right from his wallet and gave it to you.

"You promised me, Y/N," said Jimin and got up. Your wide eyes followed him and your lips were parted in shock. He grabbed his car keys and waited for you to get up as well.

"What are you doing?" you asked your boyfriend.

"I'm making you keep your promises to me, sweetheart," said Jimin darkly as he took your hand and led you down to his car.

Jimin drove you to the enormous glass building where he liked to shop. You had been there with him a hundred times before but the prices made your stomach twist into knots.

"Jimin, this isn't necessary—" you tried to reason with him but he only grabbed your hand and led you straight to Tiffany & Co.

"Jimin, please," you begged him as your chest grew heavy with guilt. The salespeople knew him. He already got you a pair of their earrings before but you had only worn them once to your anniversary dinner for fear of losing them.

Jimin picked out a 20 carat diamond necklace for you since he knew you'd refuse to choose any of the items the salespeople displayed especially for him.

Your boyfriend gave you his card and stared at you. He was still angry with you and the sight of it made your heart break.

"Jimin," you pleaded but he didn't budge. The lady at the cash registry waited patiently when the five digit number appeared on the payment terminal in front of you.

"Y/N," Jimin warned when he saw you hesitate. You swallowed and gave in. You pressed Jimin's card against the terminal and felt even worse when it gave a sound of approval.

Jimin took you to Dior next, then Celine, Balenciaga and even Chanel where his card caused more rings of approval from the payment terminal. Your boyfriend's frown, however, began to melt away when he saw you try on couture and get tended to from every direction by the salespeople.

Jimin leaned against the door frame of your dressing room as he watched you put on a beautiful white dress with a black ribbon that screamed Chanel. He glanced over his shoulder before he came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. Jimin leaned his chin against your shoulder as he watched you in the mirror.

"See? It's not that hard, baby," he purred before he pressed a soft kiss on your exposed neck and you couldn't help but lean back against him.

Taehyung

"What's this?" asked your boyfriend as he opened his bank statement. You looked up with big wide eyes and your heart sank a little. After Taehyung found out that you weren't exactly financially stable, he gave you his card and practically threatened you to spend money on it when you refused.

"I-I just ... " you began to stutter. You had bought yourself a new bag for your laptop and for the things you needed whenever you went to study or to work and a perfume that you knew Taehyung loved. Those were the kind of treats you could only afford once in a while on your own but since he encouraged you, you got them for yourself although it made you feel no less guilty.

"You said ... You said I should get a few things," you spoke carefully as you watched Taehyung's frown whilst he scanned the contents of his bank statement before his dark eyes turned to you.

"Why didn't you?" he asked sternly, showing you the slip. Your eyes turned into a different kind of wide when he spoke the opposite of what you imagined. You took the bank statement and saw your two items on there along with a few meals that you paid for with Taehyung's card.

"What do you mean? I got the bag," you gestured towards the beautiful accessory that was sitting at the foot of the sofa. "And I got the perfume - it's Gucci." Even saying the brand name weighed heavy on your tongue with guilt. You had never owned a luxurious brand item in your life before you met Taehyung.

"Yeah, and you got tteokbokki, bubble tea, two coffees and spent 12 dollars at a pizza place," Taehyung listed the rest of the items of places where the card was used.

"Do you want me to pay you back?" you asked unsure but that made Taehyung frown even deeper.

"Come on," he instructed as he took your hand and led you to his car. You watched him as he drove you to the city center and pulled up in front of Cartier.

"Tae—" you protested but he cut you off by getting out of the car. "Tae," you tried again when he grabbed your hand and took you inside the luxurious boutique.

"Mr Kim," the elegant saleswoman greeted the moment she saw your boyfriend and you enter their exclusive shop. "We're so glad to see you return, it's been a while." She smiled a bright smile when she saw you before she brought out a collection of their most exquisite items, timeless pieces inspired by art deco.

You tried to get your boyfriend's attention and get out of there but he would not so much as budge. He chose a sapphire and diamond bracelet for you. When the lady presented a six digit on the computer screen, your face grew hot with fever.

"Tae, don't—" you tried but Taehyung glared at you so intensely that you were at a loss for words. He showed you his card - your card - and pressed it against the payment terminal. Your mouth parted when the machine gave a happy sound of approval and the saleslady thanked the both of you. She tried to hand you the velvet box within a beautiful paper bag but Taehyung accepted it instead.

"You're getting this when you pay for dinner tonight, kitten," said Taehyung to you and only you, his dark voice sending shivers down your spine as he towered over you. He handed you back his credit card and left a small kiss on your jaw right above your neck, his lips hiding a shadow of a smirk.

Jungkook

"Please don't make me do this," you begged when Jungkook took you to Calvin Klein and made you try on a series of luxurious fragrances. The prices of the items they sold made your cheeks flush red with discomfort. Ever since Jungkook found out that you weren't financially stable, he insisted you spend money on his elite black card. If you failed to meet his expectations, he made you go shopping and this was just one of those instances.

Jungkook's nose brushed against your neck where one of the wonderful perfumes mingled with your skin.

"You smell so good, kitten," murmured Jungkook, his dark voice giving you goosebumps. He pulled away, his face only inched from yours as he watched you with amusement. Your boyfriend leaned in slowly, a few locks of his dark hair brushing against your forehead. You put your arms around his neck and guided him to you but he pulled away at the last moment, leaving you wide-eyed and perplexed.

"Only after you use the card, kitten," said Jungkook and placed the black credit card into your hand.

"But ..." Your gaze flicked between your boyfriend and your palm. "Jungkook," you whined in protest.

"You should have done this on your own, Y/N," said Jungkook smoothly as he stepped closer to you and you backed away until your back hit the perfume counter. His long arms leaned against the wooden surface and trapped you there. A sharp breath caught in the back of your throat as you stared at you boyfriend but your gaze kept drifting to his lips.

"We could have been somewhere else right now," spoke Jungkook quietly as his eyes gained a dark, glossy look that made your knees go weak.

"O-Okay," you found yourself stuttering.

After you paid for the perfumes you liked, you were eager to leave the luxurious shopping center.

"Not so fast, kitten," said Jungkook as he caught your hand and pulled you inside the Bvlgari boutique.

"Jungkook—" you spoke breathlessly but the salesman already nodded to Jungkook and went to retrieve something from the back.

"Jungkook, please, let's just go," you tried to reason with your boyfriend, but this time, instead of tempting you with his kisses, Jungkook frowned at you. His eyebrows arched sharply as he caressed your cheek.

"Stop fighting me, kitten," he spoke quietly but his chest was vibrating with the deepness of his husky voice. "We made a deal."

Jungkook had made you promise that you would use the card and not just for the things you needed like meals and everyday items.

"Here it is, Mr Jeon," smiled the elegant salesman. He presented a beautiful velvet box on the counter and opened it carefully. A Serpenti Viper Necklace was sitting on the cushion made in its shape. The metal used was white 18 carat gold with so many diamonds it would take you a month to count them.

Your lips parted in awe as you looked up at Jungkook. His frown vanished behind a small smile when his eyes found yours, a playful look in his dark irises.

"Would you like to try it on, Miss?" asked the courteous salesman. You checked with Jungkook and he nodded to the employee. He didn't let the salesman put it on you, though, that was his job. You turned to the mirror whilst the salesman went to assist the person in the back and Jungkook's arms wrapped around your waist. His gaze traced the viper's tail that led down the middle of your chest.

"Do you like it?" asked Jungkook, his hot breath teasing your ear as his eyes found yours in the mirror.

"It's exquisite," you breathed, feeling the weight of the diamonds and gold against your skin. Your hand took one of Jungkook's and intertwined your fingers with his,

"Just like you, kitten," he spoke softly and left a tender kiss on your neck.

148 notes · View notes

castiwls · 3 days ago

Text

coach (doesn't) always know best .ᐟ

Paring; coach!patrick x single mom!reader

Synopsis; Patrick continues to be a thorn in your side whether he means to or not. When you get a phone call claiming your son had hit another kid you had a damn good idea who had a hand in this.

Notes; part two to my coach one shot kinda? I think I'm gonna write more one shots which all link into a larger story? I'm not good with full series but I have an idea where I wanna take this. ALSO named the kid Noah to help make it easier

Masterlist | coach!au masterlist

You were pissed - scratch that seething.

You’ve been having a good week. Work had been easy and thankfully so had your son, Noah had his moments even at eight he was still prone to random emotional outbursts which always left a slight pit in your stomach.

You’d never planned to be a single parent and sometimes you really wanted to need someone else to rant to whenever you fucked up. Though this time it wasn’t you who had fucked up.

“What made you think that was okay?” Your son watched from the kitchen table, his eyes wide with the guilt you knew was eating at him. He’d been quiet ever since you’d come to pick him up from school besides mumbling apologies he’d barely spoken something which left you uneasy.

“I have always told you to never put your hands on someone else! If a kid is mean to you or your friends you go get a teacher.” A sigh left your lips as you paused in front of him. This was completely new ground. He was a good kid, the best which is why you’d been in utter disbelief when you’d gotten the phone call telling you to come pick him up.

You’d immediately assumed he must have been sick but his teacher had quickly curved that by telling you that your son had taken it upon himself to hit another kid at break. You knew the kid he’d hit was a brat - it was common knowledge - but that didn’t make a difference on how your son had acted.

His little feet kicked idly as he stared at his hands. “I know he was being mean to your friend okay? And he shouldn’t have taken that toy but you shouldn’t have hit him.” You knelt your hand rubbing over his knee.

“You're mad.” He mumbled reusing to look up. “I’m disappointed.” You corrected him.

His cheated heaved as he took a breath, and you already knew he wasn’t far off crying. The disappointment was far worse than anger in his mind. “I’m sorry.” He mumbled, his hands pulling at his polo.

“I know you are. But why?” You couldn’t get your head around why he had hit this kid! Ever since he was young you’d discouraged hitting and he’d never attempted it since starting school. You were sure you’d curved the habit but now you were unsure.

“Why did you hit him?”

Noah sniffled his shoulders slumping as you watched him, waiting. He knew he wasn’t getting out of this one. “He kept being mean to Conner and he wouldn’t do anything! He pushed him over yesterday and the teacher didn’t believe us.” Your jaw tightened slightly as he relayed the story. “That doesn’t mean you hit him.”

He nodded. “I mentioned it last night at practice, and Conner got upset, so Patrick asked what happened, and he said that a bully won't stop unless you show him you're just as strong.” He looked up, his big eyes wet, as he rubbed a fist across his ruddy cheeks.

You hummed pulling him in for a hug.

You were gonna kill Patrick.

⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *

“You told my son to hit a boy.”

Patrick grimaced leaning against his car as your voice carried down the phone. “Hello to you too.” He mumbled.

“Patrick.” You snapped.

“I didn’t tell him to hit the kid!”

“You told him to get him back! He’s eight! He doesn’t understand that ‘get him back’ doesn’t mean literally do the same thing.”

“I didn’t think he’d listen to me! I was just tryna make the kid feel better.” You scoffed mumbling under your breath. Shifting his grip on the phone he took another drag of his cigarette. “I’m sorry alright! I didn’t think he’d take it literally.”

He couldn’t lie part of him got a small kick out of it. The teachers weren’t doing anything and at least your son had the guts to stand up to the kid. Maybe he’d gone about it the wrong way but still, he doubted that kid would be trying anything again soon.

“Get your ass over here right now.” Your tone was still harsh as you watched the window. “I want you to tell him what he did was wrong.”

Patrick’s eyes widened. “Hey, I’m his tennis coach, not some sorta ethics teacher.” He stamped out the cigarette a small smirk pulling at his lips as memories of that last time he’d ended up at your door flashed through his mind.

Hell, that had been the first time he’d managed to render you speechless…more than once. He’d taken great amusement in the way you’d refused to look at him for the full week after, almost as if you were embarrassed that he’d worn you down that fast.

“I think you just want an excuse to get me back into your house.” He heard your groan and his grin only widened. “Mhm. One time wasn’t enough?”

“I’m going to skin you alive Zweig.”

“I love when you talk like that. It’s kinda hot knowing you think about me…even if it is about my demise.”

A scowl formed on your face as your hand tightened over your phone. Damn him.

“You’ll be here in 30 minutes or i will make sure you can’t have any children.”

He chuckled, tongue darting out to wet his lips. He could almost picture the look on your face, the way your jaw clenched as your eyes would darken just a smidge.

“Anything you say, Sweetheart.”

⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *

It only took one ring for you to open the door, a tight smile pulling at your lips as you let him in. “Just in time.” You mumbled not missing the way his eyes seemed to take an elevator sweep of your body.

Patrick grinned, hands shoved into his jeans as you closed the door. “Look’s like my future children are safe huh?”

“For now.”

You turned heading towards the kitchen before yelling over your shoulder. “Take your shoes off.”

Patrick rolled his eyes before kicking his shoes off and following you through the entryway. Noah looked up from his plate, his eyes widening before a bright grin broke out when he noticed Patrick behind you. He raised his hand in greeting which Patrick returned with a smile of his own.

“You remember how i spoke to you about what you did?” Noah’s gaze moved to you, his smile dulling slightly as he nodded. “Yeah.” You gestured to Patrick as you leaned against the counter.

Patrick frowned something in his chest pulling at the way the normally lively boy seemed subdued almost as he listened to you. “Patricks gonna talk to you about the conversation you had alright?” You pushed off the counter sending Patrick a look which said ‘Don’t fuck this up’ before you paused by the doorway.

“You're not in trouble.” You reminded gently. Noah nodded, his shoulders relaxing when he registered that Patrick wasn’t there to yell at him. You smiled before turning to leave. “Wait. wait, wait, wait. You're not gonna…stay” He gestured to your son.

“This is your problem.” You hummed watching as the man gaped at you. “You can solve this by telling him what you actually meant.” Patrick seemed to snap out of his shock. He’d caused this mess and now you were letting him talk to your son about it again! You were letting him parent your damn child!

He was not qualified for this.

You sighed stepping closer as Noah watched you both. “I already laid the groundwork you just have to reinforce it. He’s gonna listen to you since it's you who he listened to the first time.”

Before he could respond you’d already wandered away. He watched for a moment as you disappeared up the stairs before he turned back to the boy. Taking a small breath he clapped his hands before pulling out the chair next to him.

“Alright kid, ready to talk?”

⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *

Half an hour later you were growing angsty. They were still talking. You hadn’t heard any screaming yet, neither had Patrick come looking for you which you assumed was a good thing.

Though you were quickly running out of chores. You’d cleaned your room and his room before doing both bathrooms. It couldn't help to just go and check…right?

Curiosity getting the better of you, you quietly returned downstairs. The soft echo of voices reached your ears as you paused by the kitchen door, peering through the crack. Your lips parted in slight shock as you watched your son nodding eagerly at whatever his coach was saying.

He was practically half-lent across the table as he listened. The room fell quiet for a moment before your son's voice filled the silence. “Mommies still mad.” He said, his lips pulling into a frown. “Your Mom’s not upset bud.” Patrick sighed resting a hand on the table.

“She’s probably just shocked more than anything. Shocked and maybe disappointed but she's not mad.” He reassured, his tone softer than you’d ever heard. Something in your chest pulled as you watched the two. The way your son shifted ever closer filled you with a slight warmth.

Your ex wasn’t the best father, too caught up in his own company even when he had Noah to make an effort. You knew he was missing a male role model and you’d spent many nights kicking yourself for the downfall of your relationship.

He really trusted Patrick. You swallowed your hand curling over the door knob as your son got off his chair. You watched with bated breath as he stopped by Patrick's legs, his small voice mumbling. “Hug?”

Patrick seemed to freeze for a moment, his eyes glancing around the room. He didn’t seem to notice you before he looked back down to Noah’s pleading gaze. “Sure buddy.” He smiled helping the boy climb into his lap.

Patrick fumbled for a moment before figuring out the best way to hold him, his large hands rubbing over his back. “You know you're really lucky right?” Noah hummed pulling back slightly. “How?”

Patrick smiled. “Your mom really loves you. The fact she was so worried over this means that she really cares okay? I promise you she’s not mad.” Noah nodded. “She's not mad,” he repeated, the message finally seeming to sink in as he buried his head back into Patrick's chest.

His hand continued to rub soothing patterns as he let himself enjoy the affection. It made his heart warm almost the way the little boy seemed to finally properly relax. “You really hit the jackpot.” He teased feeling Noah shift.

“I’m pretty sure you got the best mom in the whole world.”

Noah giggled pulling back again. “I did!” He grinned.

You stepped back, your head hitting the wall as their voices drifted into the background. Taking a breath you tried to suppress the smile pulling at your lips as the scene replayed over and over in your head.

Patrick thought you were a good Mom. The thought was insane. The fact that you liked it was even wilder.

Taking a breath you pushed off the wall. You’d let them be for now.

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madlori · 17 hours ago

Text

Facebook Official

whoops my hand slipped and I banged out 1800 words of fix-it fic in like an hour. btw i think the Abby connection is dumb but I'm making it work.

Three years after reconciling with Buck, newly engaged to him, Tommy gets a phone call from a certain former dispatcher...who's just seen some interesting news via a Facebook Relationship Status post.

*****

(also on AO3)

To say that the phone call blindsided him would have been the understatement of the century.

He was just sitting at home watching the game, having a beer, minding his own business. Evan was on shift — must be a busy one, he’d only gotten two text messages all evening, one bitching about not having had time to eat dinner and the other about idiots who texted while driving.

His phone rang. Unknown number. Normally he wouldn’t have picked up, but with all the wedding preparations, a lot of vendors were calling. It was a little late to be making business calls, just after 8 pm, but he’d quickly learned that business norms meant little in the wedding planning business. “Hello?”

“Tommy?”

“Yes?” A woman’s voice. Familiar, but he couldn’t place it.

Pause “You’re marrying Buck??” A slightly hysterical note of disbelief entered the woman’s voice as she said the name.

And all at once, he knew who it was. Shit fuck motherfucker why didn’t we get ahead of this one.

“Abby. Um…”

“Evan Buckley? My ex-fiancé and my ex-boyfriend are marrying each other?”

“Small world, huh?” he said, going for levity.

“Buck’s not even gay!”

“No, he’s not. He’s bisexual.”

“I’m…okay. I’m sorry, it’s just…this is a lot of information to get all at once.”

“How did you even find out? Don’t you live in Phoenix?”

“Buck posted one of those relationship status things on Facebook.”

“Oh. I barely use Facebook.”

“Me either, but Buck does, and I hadn’t been on there in awhile, but I logged on and that was like the third post I saw!”

Tommy remembered the day Buck had made the post. They hadn’t really put their relationship on social media much - Buck posted photos of them on Instagram sometimes - and he hadn’t done one of those stupid relationship status things for them until they got engaged. They’d trawled their phones for the right pic, eventually settling on one taken at a 118 barbecue of them together, smiling, arms slung around waists. He hadn’t said so, but he’d gotten a little emotional over what Evan wrote on the post:

Evan Buckley is engaged to Tommy Kinard.

“It’s been a long road, but we made it. Can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with this man. He’s the best person I’ve ever known. I love you!”

“Well…I’m sorry that was an unpleasant surprise for you,” Tommy said, carefully.

She sighed. “I don’t know that it was…unpleasant. But a surprise, for sure. How do you even know Buck? How did you meet?”

“We’re both firefighters, it’s not that surprising that we could have met, is it?”

“No, I guess not.”

“And he was at my old firehouse. The one you refused to ever come to. But I guess you went when you were with him, didn’t you?”

“You never wanted me to meet your friends. I guess I found out why when you broke off our engagement.”

“I’m sorry, Abby. I know I said it then, but I’ll say it again now. I lied to myself, I lied to a lot of people. It took me almost trapping you in my lie, when you did not deserve that, to break me out of it.”

“I forgave you ages ago. We don’t have to go over all that again.”

“I met Evan…I guess it’s four years ago? We started dating not long after. I, um…was the first man he dated. I guess I made him realize some things about himself.”

“Just transforming lives everywhere you go, huh?” she said, a teasing note entering her voice. Tommy was happy to hear it.

“Yeah, well, I almost screwed it up. I broke up with him six months later. He was diving in headfirst, too fast, just all in and wanting to move in with me.”

“That sounds just like Buck.”

“I panicked and ended it before I could get in any deeper with him.”

“It was too late, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah. I was already in love with him.”

“He’s easy to love. Too easy,” she said, quietly. “But you got back together, obviously.”

“Took a little while. Almost a year. I dated a few guys, he dated a few people, but nothing stuck for either of us - I know now it’s because we were still hung up on each other. We have a friend in common and we’d hear about each other through him…but I didn’t really see him until we ended up on a major incident call together. I sustained a minor injury - just a scrape, really - and Hen from his house patched me up. I was sitting there on the ambulance deck, more or less left to myself, and he came waltzing up with that eyebrow raised like he knew all my secrets.” Abby chuckled, like she knew the exact expression he was describing. “He just said, are you done being fucking stupid yet?”

“And you were.”

“Yep. I was. He took me home that night and we’ve barely been apart since. Got engaged a year later.”

“You sound happy.”

“I am. I’m ecstatic. I can’t believe I got a second chance with him. I kicked myself for ending it like that, I don’t know what came over me.”

“I do. You thought you weren’t enough for him to want to keep you.”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“That’s dumb.”

“That’s what he says.”

They sat there not speaking for what felt like a long time.

“Well…” Abby said. “I feel like I just unloaded on you out of the blue.”

“You kinda did,” he said, smiling.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have called.”

“I’m glad you did. You know…Evan and I didn’t realize we had you in common until our six month anniversary dinner. In fact, it was that revelation that sort of started us on the way to breaking up for awhile. But that’s been so long now and it hasn’t come up in a few years. I almost forgot about it.”

“Gee, thanks,” she said, her grin audible. “I’m glad you’re both happy. I have a lot of regret over Buck, how I left things with him. I assume he’s told you.”

“He has. If it helps, he doesn’t have any bad feelings towards you.”

“It does help. Thank you for that.” She sighed. “I’ll let you go. I just saw that Facebook post and spiralled a little bit.”

“Understandable.”

“Please tell Buck I say hello. And I wish you both so much happiness, Tommy.”

“Thank you. And I will.”

She hung up. Tommy stared at the phone for a moment, then opened his text message thread with Evan.

You’re not gonna believe what just happened.

*****

When Evan got home at 7 am, they had their usual two hours to share breakfast and maybe a quick fuck before Tommy had to be on shift himself. They tried to sync their schedules so their off days coincided, but it didn’t always work.

“Holy shit, why didn’t we get ahead of that one?” Evan said as he burst in the door, not even bothering with “hello.” His shoes and duffel went flying and he bustled into the kitchen where Tommy was mixing the pancake batter.

“Yeah, I had the same thought,” he said, leaning over to kiss him hello.

Evan went to the coffee pot. “I didn’t even think about it, that she might see.”

“Neither did I.”

“How’d she sound?”

“Really surprised at first. Incredulous, even? Like in the what-are-the-odds way.”

“Kinda like when I found out we’d both dated her.”

“Yeah, but you’re my himbo now,” Tommy said, smirking. “No, she was just shocked. I gave her the quick rundown, and she ended up congratulating us.”

“Did you tell her it’s her fault we broke up for a year?” Evan said, popping a strawberry into his mouth.

“I think the proper person to bear the fault is me.”

“And also me. Who asks someone to move in after six months? Before even saying ‘I love you?’ And when you had a house!”

“I say we blame Josh. He got you all juiced up with that damn Glee speech.” After they’d reconciled, Evan had given him chapter and verse on his mind-boggling thought processes on that last fateful day.

“He got me feeling guilty, is what he did. That I judged you for lying to Abby. Overcorrecting is one of my special gifts.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Well, while I’m overcorrecting…why don’t we invite her?”

Tommy looked up. “To our wedding?”

“Sure, why not? She can flip a coin whose side she sits on,” Evan said, grinning like the mischievous imp that he was.

“Evan, darling, love of my life, we are not inviting our ex to our wedding.”

He scrunched up his face. “Ew. ‘Our’ ex? Makes it sound like we were in a throuple.”

“Ew, indeed.”

He cocked his head. “I dunno, though. The thought’s kinda sexy.”

“Not to me! No vaginas anywhere near my bedroom. Kinsey 6, remember?”

“Of course, my apologies.”

Tommy looked at his innocent wide-eyed face for a few beats. “You’re still thinking about it, aren’t you?”

“Can I help it if the thought of two people I have found intensely attractive doing sexy things is appealing?”

“Can I help it if the thought of Chris Hemsworth going down on you has gotten me through some lonely nights?”

“Okay, I get the point. Shutting up now.”

Tommy put a plate of pancakes in front of him. “Your shift okay?”

“Fine. Busy. I’m a bit wired. Do we have time for me to bounce on your dick for a bit before you have to head out?”

“For that, I’ll make time.” He sat down at the table at Evan’s side with his own pancakes. Evan slid a hand over and squeezed his thigh.

“Missed you, though,” he said, chewing.

“I always miss you when you’re on shift,” Tommy said.

Evan looked up at that, meeting his eyes. “Tommy, sometimes I miss you when you get up to get a beer.”

The simplicity, the sincerity of it made his chest tighten a little. He leaned forward, put his fingers under Evan’s chin and pulled him into a soft kiss, just like the first time. “I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you, too.”

“And we are not inviting my ex-fiancee who is also your ex-girlfriend to our wedding.”

Evan grinned. “Deal.”

#madlori's fic #bucktommy fic #bucktommy #fix-it fic #911 8x06 #911 8x06 fix-it #911 fanfic #tevan #kinley

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