#and then I’ll finish and go to take my break and she’s in the break room on eBay???

[angel-writes-skz-here]

Oops

Bang Chan x AFAB! Reader Synopsis: Your sweet son, Hwan, is at the wrong place at the wrong time. Warnings: A little smut, oral (f. receiving) and a lot of fluff A/N: Thank you for the request! I sincerely hope you like it! I'm going to write more stories about these 3 because I'm lowkey in love with Dad! Chan now. Requests are OPEN!

You and Chris finally moved in together, Hwan was quickly adjusting to having his father around more and more, he wanted Chris to take him everywhere on the days he was off, play toy cars and dinosaurs and all the things.

The day came to an end at work and when you opened the door to your now shared apartment, the sight filled your heart with so much love.

Chan was on the floor on his hands and knees and Hwan was on his back playing ‘horsey’. Neither of them heard you come in and you shut the door quietly, listening at Christopher neighed and raised up, causing Hwan to squeal in excitement. Your smile only got wider as you could see how much more enriched your lives had all become. You really were a little family.

Chris turns around with Hwan balancing himself on his back and see’s you, his eyes grow wide before a cheeky smile plays on his face.

“Say buddy, you think Eomma wants a turn?” you blush at his innuendo and giggle.

“I’m good, you keep playing while I make dinner.”

“I want chicken nuggets!”

“You always want chicken nuggets,” you playfully tease your son as you run up to him picking him up and kissing his cheek. He bursts out into laughter and Chris raises up to his feet, rubbing his back.

“Oh don’t tell me you’re all ready old, Channie,” you tease. You offer him a wink and he smirks.

“I’ll show you who’s old later tonight,” he murmurs in your ear and you giggle swatting his chest. He kisses your lips, soft and deep. You sigh against him, a little lost in the moment before you hear Hwan get one of his robot toys and turn it on, breaking the sweet moment. You smile at each other as you look at him.

“I’ll make dinner,” he whispers as he takes your bag off your shoulder gently and sets it down in the kitchen. You step out of your heels and sigh as you sit down on the couch.

As Hwan requested, he got his chicken nuggets for dinner that night. The meal time is sweet, filled with conversations that your little one couldn’t help but be apart of.

“And then, appa took me to the park, we saw ducks!” he says excitedly.

“Oh my goodness! I wanna see ducks.” You say feigning jealousy.

“You have to go to the park,” your son informs you as if you didn’t know.

“I can’t see them anywhere else?”

“No,” he takes a bite and chews it absentmindedly. You two giggle at Hwan and finish the meal together.

-

The bedtime routine goes as usual. He wants both of you to tuck him in, but Chris to tell him a story.

“So the prince was a popular star, he ruled the kingdom but also the stage.” Hwan’s eyes sparkle at his father’s words.

“And he met his princess, his future Queen,” he glances at you before turning back to your son, “And she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. But a dragon came and kidnapped the princess, taking her away from the prince."

“No!” he says dramatically as he puts his hands on his little cheeks in shock.

“But the prince saved her by slaying the dragon, and kissing the princess telling her how much he loved her and he swore he’d never leave her again. That she would always be safe with him around.”

“Yay!” Hwan claps his little hands and you smile nostalgically at him. Both of you kiss his forehead and Hwan lays down, Chan tucking him in. He shuts the door and you’re about to walk into the living room, before Chris pulls you into the direction of your bedroom.

“Chris!” You giggle as he shuts the door behind you. He pulls you by your waist to him and his lips mold to yours. The way the two of you fit together is as perfect and as natural as breathing.

“I was thinking,” you say in between kisses, “I have the day off tomorrow, why don’t I bring Hwan up the studio and let the guys meet him?"

“Sounds perfect,” he smiles before his hands playfully squeeze your ass. He moves his lips down to your neck, sucking, biting and licking over your pulse point.

“Ah, don’t leave a visible mark,” you warn him gently. He groans against your neck.

“I don’t want Hwan asking questions yet. I’m not sure he understands everything yet.”

His forehead drops to your shoulder for a brief moment before his lips ghost your ear.

“Fine, then get on the bed and I’ll leave them in places Hwan won’t see,” you can hear the smirk in his voice as your stomach feels the nervous excited heat flood in.

You walk over, swaying your hips a little dramatically and Chan is on your heels. Clothes are strown around the room, before the two of you get under the blankets and Chan holds himself over you. He kisses down your body, moans of pleasure quietly fill the silent room.

He licks a slow stripe up your core, your eyes fluttering closed as his tongue laps at your clit. Your hands find his hair, pushing his face deeper and he moans, the sensation and thought of making you feel good the only idea in his head. His finger works into your hole, hitting that perfect spongey spot just inside your entrance and your back arches off the bed.

-

Hwan stirs awake in his dimly lit room, thanks to his wolf chanmnight light, and rubs his eyes. He grabs his wolf Chan plush, because of course Chan said he had to have everything that was wolf chan theme, and drags himself out of bed. He hears weird noises coming from your bedroom, muffled but loud enough for him to be concerned about you.

“Eomma?” Chan freezes under the blanket and your eyes snap open. You look at the innocent little four year old who’s still rubbing sleep out of his eye. His cheeks slightly red from the tears he'd cried when during his nightmare.

“Hwan! Are you ok?” Your voice is frantic as you pull the covers up over you.

“Bad dream,” he sniffles and a few tears streak down his cheeks.

“Oh, baby,” your heart hurts for him, but you can’t exactly scoop him up at the moment.

“Where’s Appa,” he begins to whine and Chris slowly moves out from under the blanket.

“I’m here buddy.” He begins to full on cry now, and you look at Chan apologetically. Chris looks over at you and he knows the night between the two of you is over.

He runs over to pick up Hwan and takes him out of the bedroom so you can throw on a robe. When you walk out to check on your boys you notice them sitting at the kitchen table.

“What’s going on?”

“I thought ice cream might help,” Chris says sheepishly.

“You know he isn’t supposed to have sugar this late,” you light scold.

“He was crying, I mean look at him. He’s so happy. I really think it’s working!” Chan’s face is a picture of happiness, even if his night isn’t going as planned.

After the ice cream Chan scoops Hwan and wolf Chan both up and takes him to your shared room.

“What were you guys doing?” he asks once him and his plushie are settled between you.

“Uh,” you look to Chan for help.

“Eomma thought she lost something in the bed so I was helping her look for it.”

“Why were you making noises?”

“Because your Appa was being very helpful,” you kiss your son’s forehead.

“Come on, it’s time to go to sleep,” you try to encourage as you and Chan exchange knowing looks.

Tags: @breakmeoff

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[drtyelvisfantasy]

OH, BABY, BABY

CHAPTER TWO

note: Sorry for the long wait. I scrapped the original version of chapter ,2 which I immediately regretted, because it was right around exams, so I barely had time to restart it. Please reblog and like🩵

summary: Rafe is just stressing the poor girl out lol

warnings: emotional abuse, manipulation, distress related to pregnancy, toxic family dynamics, reader doesn't really have authority over her own body :(

Even with all the time that’s passed, not much has really changed. Rafe's still around, but his presence feels exactly the same—distant, somehow. As Margaret’s gotten older, Rafe suggested we move to Florida, said it would be better for her, that she’d have more opportunities, and that it would bring the three of us closer together.

So, we made the move. And while it sounded good in theory, the adjustment was hard. Everything felt unfamiliar, like I was suddenly living someone else’s life. I had to leave my job behind, which wasn’t easy, but Rafe told me not to worry about working—that he had everything handled. He says it’s all under control.

It’s eight in the morning, and the day begins like any other school day. Margaret comes downstairs for breakfast, still rubbing sleep from her eyes. She’s thirteen now—growing up fast, but still so innocent in ways that almost feel too rare for this world. There’s something about her, the way she carries this lightness, this sweetness, that feels untouched by the weight that seems to hang between me and Rafe. Her laughter, her joy—they fill the room in a way that makes the contrast all the more striking. Where she brings warmth and ease, there’s often tension and silence between Rafe and I, a quiet heaviness we can never quite shake.

Margaret sits at the table, quietly eating her breakfast, eyes on her plate. Even though it’s still early, she seems wide awake—calm, collected, like she’s already settled into the rhythm of the day.

“How did you sleep last night?” I ask Margaret.

“I slept fine. Woke up a few times, but nothing major,” she says, already turning her attention back to her food.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I slept the same way,” I reply with a small smile.

She looks up at me, smiling back, then takes another bite. She seems much more interested in finishing her breakfast than talking about sleep.

“Um… I talked to your dad,” I say, a little hesitant.

Margaret pauses mid-bite, her fork hovering in the air as she looks up, suddenly alert. “Yeah? About what?”

“He said he’s planning to spend spring break with us.”

Her whole face lights up, eyes wide and sparkling. “He is? Really?” she says, a big smile spreading across her face. The excitement in her voice is impossible to miss.

I respond with a small nod. Margaret’s excitement  becomes more apparent. A wide smile spreading across her face. There’s a sense of joy and anticipation in her eyes as she processes the news.

“You should probably go put your clothes on for school now, I don’t want you to be late.” 

Margaret nods and quickly responds to my reminder to get ready. She finishes the last bite of her breakfast, then hops up from the table, already shifting into school mode as she heads off to get ready.

—

While Margaret’s at school, I spend the morning getting the house ready for Rafe’s arrival. I’m in the middle of cleaning when my phone starts ringing. I glance at the screen—it’s Rafe.

His voice comes through the line, a little reserved. “Hey. How are you?”

“I’m good. Margaret’s at school, so I’m just cleaning up,” I say, trying to keep it light.

He lets out a soft chuckle, his tone loosening up a bit. “Cleaning, huh? I’m about to hit the road—it’s gonna be a long-ass drive.”

“Well, be safe,” I reply gently. “Don’t want anything to happen to you.”

Rafe responds in a calm, reassuring voice. “Don’t worry, I’ll be careful. I’ve done this drive plenty of times—I’ll be fine.”

I don’t even bother asking if he’s ever going to leave his wife. I already know how that conversation goes. The same vague answers, the same guilt he throws back at me like I’m the one doing something wrong for even bringing it up.

Rafe’s voice comes through clearly, his tone laced with genuine concern. “How’s the little one doing? Are you feeling any better?”

I rest my hand on my growing baby bump, gently tracing small circles without thinking. “I’m alright... just a little nauseous.”

It wasn’t supposed to happen again. I promised myself I wouldn’t let it. Another pregnancy, another responsibility—I didn’t think I could take that on. But Rafe told me to keep the baby, said he’d handle everything. I’m trying to believe him. I really am. Maybe this time will be different. Maybe it won’t end the way it did last time.

Rafe’s voice stays soft, full of sympathy. “Morning sickness again, huh? Are you taking care of yourself?”

“Yeah... m’tryin’,” I mumble, my voice barely above a whisper.

He pauses for a second, then replies even more gently, “Alright. I’ll let you go. Just rest, okay? I’ll see you in a few hours.”

As I hang up the phone, I sink quietly onto the couch, my thoughts spinning. Worry creeps in, soft but relentless. I can’t help but think about how all of this—my choices, my mistakes—might shape Margaret’s future. I pray she doesn’t follow in my footsteps. That she never has to carry the same kind of weight, or face the same struggles I’ve had to. The fear of history repeating itself—of my past becoming her path—sits heavy on my chest, harder to ignore with every passing day.

—

Margaret walks through the door, her school backpack hanging loosely off one shoulder. She takes a few steps inside before slowing down, her eyes flicking toward me. Even without saying a word, she can feel it—the tension in the air. She’s always been quick to pick up on things, sensitive in ways that catch me off guard. The stress I thought I was hiding so well suddenly feels obvious, hanging in the space between us.

“Oh hey, baby—you’re back,” I say with a smile, trying to sound light as I greet Margaret.

Margaret smiles as she steps further into the house, her backpack sliding off her shoulders. Her voice is bright, her good mood shining through. “Yeah, I’m back. How was your day, Mom?”

“Oh, good... you know, nothing new,” I reply, forcing a small smile.

Margaret nods, still cheerful, the brightness in her voice untouched by the heaviness hanging in the room. She senses it—just a flicker—but she’s still too young, too trusting, to ask. Instead, she speaks casually, like everything’s normal.

“Oh, I’m hungry. Is there anything to eat?”

“Shit, I forgot to cook something—I'm so sorry, honey.”

Margaret catches the guilt on my face before I can even try to hide it. But she just smiles softly, her voice calm and reassuring.

“It’s okay, you don’t need to apologize. Let’s just order something instead.”

“Yeah… um, just take my card and order some pizza,” I say, rubbing my temples.

She nods, no fuss, no questions—just understanding. Then she takes my card and heads into the kitchen to place the order, like it's the most natural thing in the world

—

A couple of hours pass, and Rafe finally arrives. He barely makes it through the door before Margaret is already in his arms.

“Dad! I missed you!” she exclaims, her voice bubbling with excitement.

Rafe chuckles, the sound of her voice clearly softening him. The tension in the house seems to lift just a little.

“I missed you too, little lady,” he says with a warm grin.

Margaret pulls back just enough to look up at him. “Did you get me anything?” she asks, eyes wide with curiosity.

Rafe shoots her a sly smile, his tone playful. “Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t. You’ll just have to find out, won’t you?”

Margaret gives her dad a small smile.

“Go grab my bags from the car,” he says, 

nodding toward the driveway. “There should be something for you in there.”

Without hesitation, Margaret runs outside, eager to dig through his things, hoping to find a surprise waiting for her.

As she disappears out the door, Rafe’s gaze shifts to me. I step closer, and his eyes lock onto mine. His expression is neutral, unreadable, but there’s something guarded in the way he holds himself. When he speaks, his tone is careful—measured.

He takes a moment to look me over, and I can tell he notices. The way his eyes linger says enough—I’m not as “put together” as he’s used to. No makeup, hair pulled back in a rush, just the bare version of me. Normally, I’d make the effort—especially around him.

I see the flicker of annoyance in his eyes, subtle but familiar. Still, he doesn’t say anything. Not this time. Maybe he knows better than to start something, or maybe he just doesn’t have the energy. Either way, the silence between us says more than words ever could.

“So… um, how was your drive?” I ask, my voice a little uncertain.

Rafe’s reply comes in a neutral tone, but I can tell his thoughts are elsewhere—still caught on the way I look. “It was fine. Just the usual. Traffic was a mess, but I got here in one piece.”

He exhales softly, eyes still scanning me with quiet disapproval. Then, as if trying to shake it off, he clears his throat and walks past me into the kitchen.

The moment he spots the pizza box on the counter, I feel the shift in his energy. I don’t even need to look at him to know what he’s thinking. In his mind, a hot, home-cooked meal should’ve been waiting for him. The box of takeout feels like a personal offense.

He mutters under his breath, just loud enough for me to hear the edge in it.

“Pizza… seriously?”

“I’m sorry—I forgot to cook. It slipped my mind,” I say, my voice heavy with exhaustion.

Rafe’s frustration sharpens. His tone cuts a little deeper than usual. “Forgot to cook, huh? It just slipped your mind?”

“Yeah, it did,” I snap back, my tone matching his, just as sharp.

Before he can say anything else, Margaret walks back in, a little breathless from carrying the bags.

“Just put those in my room, sweetie,” I say quickly, my voice softening as I turn to her, trying to shield her from the tension lingering in the air.

Margaret nods and grabs the bags, heading toward my bedroom without a word. As soon as she disappears down the hallway, Rafe’s eyes snap back to me, lingering again on my disheveled appearance.

I turn to walk away, hoping to escape the moment, but his hand shoots out, gripping my wrist tightly. I freeze. His hold is firm—too firm—and his tone turns sharp, almost biting.

“What’s wrong with you? You look like a hot mess,” he says, his voice low but cutting.

I try to pull away, but the words come out of me before I can stop them, choked by tears rising fast.

“I don’t want to do this,” I whisper, then louder—broken. “I never wanted to get pregnant again.”

Rafe’s expression hardens as my tears begin to fall. There’s no softness in his eyes, no trace of concern. His voice turns cold, detached.

“Save the tears, okay? I don’t care whether you wanted this pregnancy or not. The fact is, it’s happening—whether you like it or not.”

I shake my head, struggling to hold myself together. “You don’t even take me seriously. Why would I want to bring another child into this?”

He scoffs, the sound sharp and dismissive. His tone drips with annoyance, completely void of empathy.

“Oh, don’t start with that bullshit again. I’ve had enough of your emotional breakdowns. It’s been happening a lot lately, and honestly, it’s really starting to piss me off.—“

Rafe’s harsh words are abruptly cut off as Margaret walks into the room. Her eyes widen the moment she sees the tears streaming down my face. The lightness from earlier is gone in an instant, replaced by panic.

“What’s going on?” she asks, her voice trembling with concern as she steps closer.

I quickly pull away from Rafe, wiping at my face. “Nothing, Margaret… just go up to your room and finish your homework, okay?”

But she doesn’t move. She stands frozen, her eyes flicking between the two of us, sensing something deeper—something wrong.

“Are you sure? You’re crying,” she says softly, her voice small but insistent.

“Go upstairs. Now.” Rafe snaps, his tone sharp and unforgiving.

Margaret flinches at his voice, hurt flashing across her face. She hesitates for a beat before turning and quietly walking away, glancing back at me one last time.

Once Margaret disappears upstairs, Rafe’s eyes snap back to me. His expression is tight, a mix of annoyance and exasperation carved into his face.

“Get it together, okay? I can’t deal with your breakdowns right now,” he says, his voice firm and cold.

Without waiting for a response, he turns on his heel and storms off down the hallway. The bedroom door slams shut behind him, the sound echoing through the quiet house.

And just like that, I’m alone—again—standing in the middle of the living room with the weight of everything pressing down on me.

For the first time in my life, I wish I could go back. Back to before I ever met Rafe. Before I ever set foot in that fucking strip club. I wish I’d walked away the moment I found out he was married. I wish I’d had the strength to leave before all of this got so tangled.

There are so many things I wish I’d done differently. But it’s too late now. I’m already in too deep—and there’s no easy way out.

[hockeyfantasies]

where's the trophy? he just comes running over to me

Summary | Although you and Quinn aren't together anymore, that doesn't mean you two miss each other.

Warnings | none

Author's Note | This can be read as a part 2 from this imagine.

Being a famous actress has made you well known throughout the world. When you dated Quinn Hughes for two years, you were well known in the hockey world. However, due to complicated schedules, you two decided to take a break. That was until you were asked to give the James Norris Memorial Trophy at the NHL Awards in Vegas.

“Are you nervous to see Quinn again?” Your best friend asked you.

“A little.”

“Have you talked to him since you were asked to present?” She asked you.

“Quinn actually reached out to me first.”

“Oooh! What did he say?” Your best friend asked.

“He asked to meet me a day before the show.”

“Then you better look hot if you’re gonna see him again.”

“I know! I’m hoping everything goes well.”

You landed in Vegas a day before the show so you can practice what you were going to say and to see Quinn. Luckily for the both of you, you two were at the same hotel. You had texted Quinn your room number so he could visit you.

There was a knock on your door making you walk over to open it. You smiled softly as Quinn stood in front of you.

"Hey," Quinn smiled softly at you.

"Hi."

"Do you want to get some food and talk?" Quinn asked.

"I'd like that," you say. "Just let me grab my purse."

The restaurant downstairs wasn't too crowded so you two were able to get a booth and talk alone.

"How have you been?" Quinn asked.

"I've been good. I finished filming Outer Banks and my new movie," you tell him.

"That's good."

"How are you? I've seen some games when I have time but other than that, how are you?" You asked him.

"I'm doing good as well."

"Are you nervous for tomorrow?" You asked.

"A little."

"You'll be fine," you smile at him.

"I want to apologize for what happened."

"Quinn. We both agreed to take a break," you tell him.

"I know. But I should've fought for us. I didn't want us to break up," Quinn said.

"I think it was for the best. We were busy and I'm not mad at you. I still love you."

"I still love you too,” Quinn says. “Should we talk about getting back together?”

“Why don’t we wait until after you get your award.”

“What makes you think that I’m gonna win?”

“I have a very strong feeling.”

To no surprise, the media found out about your little outing was was spreading the rumor that you and Quinn could potentially get back together. However, it was quickly shut down by your team to avoid any controversy if Quinn were to win after you presented the award.

The day of the award ceremony, you took a couple of pictures on the carpet before meeting with Quinn.

“Hi,” you greeted.

“Hey.”

“You look nice,” you complimented.

“You look better than me,” Quinn complimented back.

“Ms. L/n. You’re needed backstage,” one of the show runners tells you.

“I have to go. But I’ll be secretly rooting for you,” you tell him with a smile.

“Thanks.”

Quinn watched with his brothers and parents from the seats as the show went on. Then came you to present the James Norris Award.

Quinn smiled happily as he watched you on stage. You introduced Lindsey Null who donated her kidney to Aaron Portzline, a sports writer. You stepped to the side for her to let her speak. Then it was time to introduce the nominees for the James Norris trophy.

You watched the nominee video, feeling giddy the moment you saw Quinn's introduction. You took the envelope with the winner's name while Lindsey took the trophy.

“The James Norris goes to...” you say before opening the envelope to read the name. Your eyes lit up in surprise as you saw the winner. “Quinn Hughes!”

You watched as Quinn hugged his family and friends before coming up on stage to you. Instead of shaking your hand, he pulls you into a hug before giving you a quick kiss.

“Meet me afterwards?” He asked quickly.

“Yeah,” you smile and nod. He shook Lindsey's hand before coming to the microphone to give his speech.

“I wish I got a kiss too,” Lindsey joked. You giggled before hiding your blushing face.

After Quinn's speech, he took a step away from the microphone to look at you. You smiled at him as he waited for you as you walked towards him to head backstage. He held his hand out for you which you gladly took.

"I'm so proud of you," you tell him.

"Thank you. I'm really glad you're here with me for this," Quinn tells you.

"Me too. You go do what you need to do and I will be waiting for you at the after party," you tell him, kissing his cheek.

Twitter and media outlets had blown up about you two when they saw Quinn kiss you live at the show.

Twitter user: omg! are they back together again?!

l/nstanforever: love is real again!!!!!

hockeyluver: Quinn Hughes running up to kiss Y/N L/N are goals!!!

hockeyswiftie: WHERE'S THE TROPHY, HE JUST COMES RUNNING OVER TO ME IS LITERALLY Y/N AND QUINN HUGHES RN

During Quinn’s interviews, he was hit with the question that everyone was asking.

“Are you and actress Y/n L/n back together based on the kiss you gave her on stage?” The interviewer asked. Quinn let out a chuckle.

“I’m not gonna say anything about that just yet,” Quinn said, avoiding the question so he could have a chance to talk to you about what you both were.

“Do you still have feelings for her?”

“Of course I do. She’s an amazing person. But like I said, I don’t want to say anything about that just yet.”

At the after party, you caught up with Jack and Luke before Quinn pulled you away to talk privately.

“So I’m guessing you want to get back together now?” You joked to Quinn as you sat on a couch.

“I want us to be. I missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too. Now that I’ve finished with filming, I can be with you more and hopefully I can film more in Vancouver,” you tell Quinn.

“I’d like that.”

“So, you wanna party since you won?” You asked, standing up.

"Yeah. Do you want to go on a date with me once we leave Vegas?" Quinn asked you.

"I'd like that. But for now, let's celebrate your win," you smiled as you pulled him back to the party.

[sunday-bug]

Oh?? Say less. Can you write a smut about Bucky and yn having pool sex on vacation? The arm dripping water is doing it for her lol

Girl the arm dripping water is doing it for me too okayyyyy!

Also I’m celebrating 300 followers with this spicy, smutty Bucky POV oneshot. Enjoy and thank you for hanging around! 💗🫶🏻

18+ content MDNI (for real this is pretty filthy)

Our room is nice. I booked an ocean view, but didn’t expect for us to have our own private balcony.

“Babe, this is so cool!” She says, running to the bed and face planting into it. “I’ve never stayed in such a fancy hotel.”

I smile as I watch her explore the room, opening doors, drawers, and stealing a shooter from the mini fridge. She walks out onto the balcony before quickly turning around with wide eyes and looking at me.

“What?” I ask.

“There’s a pool. Like, we have our own little pool. And shower. And bathtub. Outside.”

My smile widens and I follow her to the balcony. Wow. “You love it?” I ask her, rubbing circles on her back.

“Are you kidding? Babe, it’s perfect.” She stands on her tiptoes to kiss me. “Wanna walk on the beach before it gets dark?”

“Yeah, that sounds nice, baby,” I say. We both put some of our stuff away in the room and change for the beach. I pull my hair back into a bun to keep it out of my face. She walks out of the bathroom in an unfamiliar swimsuit and I feel my chest tighten.

“That’s… new,” I say, eyes raking over her body. “I really like it.”

She spins around in it, giving me every angle and I feel my dick twitch. “Jesus, babe. You look sexy as hell.” I stand up and pick her up, giving her a deep kiss.

“I thought you’d like it,” she whispers.

“You thought right. Now, c’mon, let’s go show your cute ass off,” I laugh, leading her to the door.

We stop by the beach bar and order a couple drinks before starting our sunset walk down the waterline. The sand is warm from the day, but not too hot, and perfectly soft. I watch her walk a bit ahead of me, waves lapping at her soft feet and calves, breeze blowing in her hair. She turns her face toward the setting sun and my heart skips. Look at her. My girl. So fucking beautiful. She turns toward me and smiles through a squint, raising her hand above her brow to see me better.

“You’re gorgeous, darlin’,” I mutter, walking toward her. She puts a hand on my chest before she leans into me, head resting against me as we both look out at the setting sun.

“I love you,” she whispers. “You’re my best friend.”

“I love you, too, sweet girl,” I answer. “And you’re mine.”

“Let’s swim out a bit,” she suggests, planting her cocktail in the sand. I follow her lead and swim with her until I can’t feel the shore under my feet. The water is warm, salty, and perfect. She reaches for my hair tie and lets my hair fall around my face.

“You’re so handsome, Buck,” she says, wrapping her legs around my waist. “Thank you for this.”

“For what?” I ask, brushing a tendril of hair behind her ear.

“This. Vacation. You.” She kisses me softly, and I pull her closer to me.

“You deserve it, baby,” I reply as she breaks the kiss, eyeing something in the distance behind me.

“Dolphins!” She squeals. I turn around and sure enough, there’s a pair of dolphins jumping out a ways. We wade in the ocean for a bit longer before we walk back up to the beach and sit in the sand, finishing our watered down drinks. The sun has set now, the sky a deep purple. We lie back in the sand and look at the sky, listening to the waves crashing, and feeling the water lick at our legs. She moves to rest her head on my chest and I feel like the luckiest man in the damn world.

The breeze starts to cool, and we hear a rumble of thunder, followed by a bright shot of lightning.

“We should get inside, doll,” I mutter, sitting up.

“I love thunderstorms,” she says quietly as a raindrop falls on her cheek.

“I know, baby, but… maybe we can enjoy it from our covered balcony,” I offer.

“Okay, I’ll race ya!” She says, taking off down the beach back to the hotel. I let her win and carry her back to our room, doing my best not to take her right there in the elevator. We crash into our room and I lay her back on the bed. A crash of lightning and thunder outside followed by rain pelting the hotel lets us know we made it back just in time.

“Baby, baby, wait,” she whispers, stopping me from taking off her swimsuit. “Let’s get in the pool. Watch the storm.”

“Okay, if that’s what you want,” I concede, watching her get up. She walks to the balcony door and turns to me, slowly removing her swim top and bottoms. She stands there stark naked and fucking winks at me before getting in the pool. I throw off my trunks and walk out to meet her.

“You’re a tease, darlin’,” I growl as I creep up behind her, feeling the blood rush to my groin. The water in the pool is warm and comforting. I reach under the water and pull her back into me, letting her head fall against my chest as I wrap my arms around her bare waist. She watches the storm, and I watch her. She intertwines her fingers with my vibranium ones and brings them to her bare chest, a shiver going through her as her nipple peaks at the cool metal on her skin. She turns around to face me with a shy smile.

“The wet arm is kinda working for me, Buck,” she whispers with a smirk.

I chuckle and flex my arm, “Yeah? You with me just for the arm, huh?” I tease.

She laughs and hops into my arms, her tits bouncing from the jump, “You know that’s not true, baby. I’m with you because I love you…,” she leans in to whisper in my ear, “and because you make my toes curl every time we fuck.”

I groan and feel my dick harden completely at her comment, “You want me to take you in this pool?”

“Duh,” she says teasingly, reaching down to stroke me.

“God damn,” I sigh, closing my eyes as she works on me. I bring my flesh hand down between her legs and press a finger inside. She adjusts herself so she’s practically sitting on my hand and starts rocking her hips. A soft little moan escapes her perfect lips and sends another jolt of pleasure through me. I love knowing how good I make her feel. I add another finger and press the heel of my hand to her clit. She cries out, never stopping her hand on me. She looks at me with wide eyes and gives a little nod. I lift her up and help her sink down onto me.

“Mmm,” she moans softly, taking all of me. “Your dick feels bigger on vacation.”

I chuckle and move us to the edge of the small pool, fucking her against the wall. The force of my thrusts creates a mini wave pool around us. I watch the water splash up against her breasts and groan, grabbing one and pinching her nipple gently. She arches her back at the contact, and I hit a new spot inside her.

“You good, baby?” I ask softly, kissing her neck.

“So good,” she assures me, tracing her fingernails up my back into my hair.

“Can we get in the shower?” I ask softly, gesturing to the little outdoor shower space. It was open to the beach, but no one was outside in the storm.

“Yes, hot water sounds so good right now,” she replies, getting off me and walking to the edge. I watch her get out and follow her. She turns the shower to hot and we both stand under it for a moment, luxuriating in the heat. I press my finger down her spine and bend her over the small half wall, lining myself up at her entrance before pressing in.

“Fuck, yes,” she encourages me.

“You’re so perfect, baby,” I rasp out as I pick up my pace, gripping her hips. “You look so fucking pretty bent over for me like this.”

She moans in response, pushing back into me, meeting my thrusts. I remove my hands from her hips and watch her fuck back into me, her ass jiggling a bit with each contact.

“Oh my God, doll, just like that,” I whine, throwing my head back. The hot water rolls over my shoulders and hits her back. I watch as the rivulets roll down her ass and hips.

“I’m gonna come, Buck,” she whimpers, her legs starting to quiver. I grab her hips again to steady her, letting her still take the lead.

“I got you, baby. Come for me.” And she does. Her legs shake as she rides out her pleasure on me, whining my name.

“C’mere,” I say gruffly, picking her up so I’m holding her face to face as she sinks back down on me. I let her keep riding on me as I hold her, kiss her, nip at her neck. I turn us around so the hot water kisses her bare back. She tilts her head back, getting her hair wet and I know I’m close.

“Baby…” I whimper, the muscles in my legs tightening.

“Give it to me, Buck. I fucking need it,” she begs.

“Christ,” I mutter, my dick twitching and spilling inside of her. I pick her up and set her down beside me. “You’re exquisite, you know that?”

“Exquisite when I’m full of you?” She says, biting her lip.

I groan, my dick still hard and look at her darkly, “You want some more?”

She looks up at me with those big doe eyes and nods, taking my hand and leading me to the bed.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, doll,” I mutter, “but what a sweet death it’ll be.”

She lays down on the bed and spreads her legs, playing with herself, “You made a mess of me, Bucky.”

“You love it,” I mutter, climbing on top of her, kissing her neck and chest. I grab the hand she’s touching herself with and push one of her fingers inside. “You want more of that?”

“Yes, please,” she whines, writhing under me before bringing that hand up to her mouth and sucking on her finger.

“Jesus, doll, you’re fucking filthy tonight,” I say, loving it. I push back into her, spreading her legs even further. I pick up my pace, and the only sounds in the room are the thunderstorm outside, our bodies joining, and her soft moans. My dog tags hit her face and she yanks on the chain, pulling my face down to hers.

“I love feeling you fuck it back into me,” she whispers with a little giggle.

“Oh my God, you’re in for it,” I warn her, going a bit harder. She moans and her eyes light up.

“Yeah, Bucky, keep going just like that!” Her fingers splay across my lower back and ass, pressing me deeper. The sounds from my previous spend are downright obscene. I feel her tighten around me once more and wrap her legs around my waist. I bring my vibranium hand up to her delicate neck and hold it gently, watching her face as she comes.

“Unload in me, Buck,” she says as she comes down from her high, a shit-eating grin plastered across her fucked-out face.

“Oh-fuck,” I moan. “Say it, baby. Tell me what you want.”

“Cum in me,” she demands.

“Say it again,” I whine, feeling my peak about to hit.

“Cum in me. Pretty please.”

“God, yes!” I whimper and press into her, filling her once again, my hair falling into my eyes as I catch my breath. “Fuck, babe.” I pull out, the sheets a bit of a mess, and lie next to her.

“I love you,” I say, playing with her hair.

“I love you, too,” she whispers, pushing my hair behind my ear.

“Why don’t you go take a shower? I’ll order us some room service, okay?” I offer, helping her sit up and kissing her forehead.

“Okay,” she agrees, padding softly to the bathroom.

Thank God for vacation.

-the end-

Taglist: @ruexj283 @sebastianstan0813

[stewpidcheescatarinabluu]

Dummy

Synopsis: Y/N, a small-time streamer, has always dreamed of becoming famous, streaming to just 10-15 viewers. One day, their favorite streamer, Karina (aka KatarinaBluu), starts watching and interacting in the chat, eventually building a connection. As their friendship deepens, Karina confesses that Y/N has been her comfort streamer, and their bond turns into something more. The two grow closer, with Y/N eventually joining Karina's streams, nervously taking his first steps into the spotlight. Together, they navigate their blossoming relationship, becoming a team both on and off the stream.

Word Count: 2,404.

Ever since you were a kid, you dreamed of becoming a famous streamer. You worked hard—posting videos, streaming for hours on end—but life wasn’t always kind. Still, as you grew older, so did your determination. You kept streaming, often for even longer hours, though your audience never grew much—just about 10 to 15 viewers in total.

But it wasn’t really about the numbers. You streamed because it made you happy. It made you feel productive, like you were chasing the dream you’d held onto since childhood. And even if it was just 10 to 15 people watching, having the privilege to share your world with them was enough.

Of course, you had your fair share of favorite streamers. But one of your all-time favorites—if not the favorite—was a streamer named KatarinaBluu, or just Karina. She was a mix of everything: a gamer, lifestyle creator, and vlogger, with a following that skyrocketed to over 7 million in just three years. She wasn’t just popular—she was one of the biggest streamers today.

You’d wake up at 10 a.m. and stream until 10 p.m., grinding through hours of content, mostly RPGs—your favorite genre. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was your dream, and you lived it every day.

The thing is… your favorite streamer was watching you almost every time you went live.

You were in the middle of a Souls game, on your last sliver of health, about to beat a tough boss. One more hit and it would've been yours—but you failed. By a pixel.

Then you heard the notification sound.

A message popped up in chat.

CatrinaBlue: "Aww, nice try! You’ll get him this time!"

You stared at the message, a little stunned before breaking into a smile. It was always nice knowing people were actually watching—even better when it was her.

"Thanks, KatarinaBluu. I’ll get him this time—for you!"

You went in again, more focused than ever, and this time… you won.

You let out a cheer, leaning back with both relief and pride.

CatrinaBlue: "Good job! You deserved it."

[CatrinaBlue donated $5.00]

"Yoo! Thank you, Catarinablue, for the $5! You didn’t have to, you know?" You said, grinning ear to ear. It felt surreal, like this was your moment—your break. As time passed, the games kept coming and going, but there she was. "CatarinaBluu"—always in the chat.

Sometimes, you’d get 3 or 5 viewers, but most of the time, it was just her. Just CatarinaBluu, talking with you, engaging with you, and forming this unique connection between you both.

"Hi, Catarinablue! Welcome back! I’m playing another Souls game, and look—I made my name similar to yours." You typed with excitement.

She replied almost immediately in chat:

"Wow, you didn’t have to! But thanks! Are you planning to finish it today? If so, good luck!"

You grinned, fingers hovering over the keys.

"I’m planning to! Why? Will you stick around until the end of the game?"

Her response came quickly:

"Mhm, yes."

Time passed by, and eventually, you and Catarinablue started having more personal conversations—talking about how your day was going, what your plans for the future were, and sometimes just sharing random thoughts. One day, you even asked her if her name was inspired by KatarinaBlue, the famous streamer you admired. She chuckled at the question and told you it was just a coincidence.

"Funny thing," she typed one night. "I actually get asked that a lot. But nah, I just liked the name. It’s not inspired by anyone."

You laughed, relieved that it wasn’t some weird coincidence. The two of you started to get even closer, talking about your hopes, your struggles, and what it meant to chase dreams.

"Hey, Y/N," she texted one night, "What are you planning to do in the next five years?"

"I want to get better at streaming, keep growing, you know? Maybe even hit the big leagues someday."

"I believe in you. You’re gonna get there."

"Thanks, Catarinablue. You’ve been such a huge support."

"No problem. You’re doing the hard work. I’m just here cheering you on."

The conversations grew more frequent, and the connection between you two deepened. Eventually, you exchanged phone numbers, which felt like a huge step. Your small circle of viewers, mostly just her, was growing into something much more meaningful.

But then, one day, it all changed.

You defeated the final boss of your playthrough, heart pounding as the screen flashed with victory. You leaned back, exhaling a sigh of relief, and looked at your chat, eagerly waiting for Catarinablue to send her usual encouraging message.

But what you saw instead made your world freeze.

A verified username—KatarinaBluu—appeared in your chat, sending a simple message:

"Congrats, Y/N! I knew you’d do it!"

What? KatarinaBluu? In your chat? Knowing your name? Huh? How? What? Why? Your mind went into overdrive, a million questions swirling through your head. Was this a prank? Was it real?

On the other end, Karina—KatarinaBluu—was having a full-on panic attack. She hadn’t meant to message you from her main account. She’d been caught up in the moment, and now her personal account was connected to your stream. Her heart was racing as she watched your stream explode with activity.

Your viewer count, which had been around 5, jumped up to 45K active viewers in seconds. The chat went wild:

"Who is this?"

"Why is Karina messaging this guy?"

"Isn’t that THE Karina?"

"Is she collabing with him?"

"Wait, how does he know her?"

You stared at the chat, overwhelmed, but it was the message from Catarinablue that snapped you back to reality.

A private message popped up on your phone.

Catarinablue:

"Hey, Y/N. I know this is crazy, but it’s me—Karina. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I just wanted to congratulate you, but now everything’s a mess. I didn’t expect my personal account to pop up. Please don’t freak out, okay?"

You blinked, sitting back in your chair, staring at the message. Karina. THE Karina, the one you admired, had just messaged you. Your fingers hovered over the keys, unsure how to respond, the magnitude of it all sinking in.

You sat there in shock, your hands shaking as you read her message again. Karina. The Karina. KatarinaBluu. She wasn’t just some random viewer anymore. She had been following you, supporting you from the very beginning.

You clicked on her message, still unsure how to process everything that was happening, but then another message popped up from her.

"I know this is a lot, but I want to be honest with you. The truth is... I’ve been watching your streams for a while now. And I didn’t just watch because I thought you were entertaining, though you are. It’s because you’ve been my favorite comfort streamer."

Your heart skipped a beat. You read it again, slowly this time. Was this real? Was Karina really saying that? The person you had admired for so long, the one you’d always looked up to, was telling you that you were her comfort streamer?

"I’ve had a lot of tough days, and your streams... they’ve always been there for me. I loved how you kept pushing forward no matter what. I felt like I wasn’t alone when I tuned in to watch you, especially when everything around me felt like chaos. So... I guess I’ve been cheering for you longer than you know."

Your mind was racing, your fingers trembling as you typed your response.

"Wait, what? Really?"

Her reply came almost immediately.

"Yeah. Really. You don’t know how much it means to me that you’re still doing this, even when it feels like no one’s watching. I just... I just wanted you to know that I see you. And I care."

You sat there in stunned silence, the weight of her words sinking in. Karina, the one who had been your idol for so long, was telling you that you were important to her. That your streams—your journey—had helped her when she needed it the most.

You looked at the chat, now flooded with a mix of excitement and confusion from the 45K viewers. But the only thing that mattered to you at that moment was the private conversation between you and Karina.

"I... I had no idea, Karina. I just wanted to make people smile. And now, here you are, saying that... I don’t even know what to say."

"You don’t have to say anything. Just... keep doing what you’re doing. You’re exactly where you’re meant to be."

At that moment, everything felt different. The nervousness from the sudden surge of viewers was still there, but it didn’t matter anymore. You realized that, even if this moment was overwhelming, it was also the beginning of something new.

Things had changed in the best way possible. What started as a random stream chat between two people turned into something much more. You weren’t just her fellow streamer now; you were her constant companion—on screen and off.

A couple of months later!

Things had grown naturally between you and Karina. What started out as late-night gaming sessions and private chats turned into something deeper. She had become more than just a favorite streamer to you. Now, she was your girlfriend, and you were becoming a part of her world in a way you never thought possible. But today was different.

Today, you were finally going to join her on stream. It wasn’t anything big—just sitting with her during a casual playthrough. But for you, it felt like a big step. You were nervous, even though she reassured you a hundred times that it was okay.

“Alright, chat,” Karina said with a grin, adjusting her camera. “We’ve got a special guest today. Guess who it is.”

She glanced over at you, sitting just off-camera, already looking a little too shy for comfort. “Come on, don’t be shy. You’re gonna do great.”

You were just sitting there, practically invisible behind her, fiddling with your fingers. “U-um, hey, chat,” you said quietly, voice soft, unsure of how to act. It was your first time on her stream, and you weren’t used to the attention. You could feel your heart race as your name popped up in the chat.

“Y/N? Wait, is that really Y/N? OMG.”

“He’s here!!! I can't believe it!!”

The words flowed faster than you could process them. It was overwhelming but also flattering.

“Hey, Y/N,” Karina said, her voice playful yet encouraging, as she nudged you gently. “Say hi to everyone. They’re all really excited to see you.”

You smiled awkwardly, feeling a little overwhelmed by the sudden influx of attention, but you managed to wave at the camera. “Hi, uh… I’m Y/N. I don’t really stream anymore, so... yeah.”

The chat exploded.

“OMG, he’s adorable.”

“Y/N is shy, this is too cute.”

“Karina, you’re breaking the internet!”

Karina laughed softly, catching your nervousness. She reached out, resting a hand on your arm, her voice low so only you could hear. “You’re doing great. Just be yourself. They’re gonna love you.”

You nodded, trying to relax, but it was hard with so many eyes on you. Karina’s stream had a massive following. At the moment, you were just another part of the show. You had to get used to it, but it felt like a lot all at once.

She kept playing, and you just sat beside her, watching her play through the game. The comments kept coming in, and the pressure didn’t ease up. “I’ll let Y/N play in a bit, chat!” Karina teased, glancing at you with a raised eyebrow. “He’s just shy right now, but he’s gonna be awesome when he gets in there.”

You blinked. “M-me? Play?”

Karina smiled, the way she always did when she was trying to encourage you. “Yeah, you can do it. You’ve been practicing, right? I’ll help.”

You swallowed, glancing at the game. It didn’t seem so hard when you watched her play, but now that it was your turn, your palms started sweating. “I-I don’t know if I’m ready,” you muttered, feeling a little embarrassed.

Karina giggled softly, turning to you with a warm, reassuring smile. “It’s okay to be nervous. I’ll be right here with you. Just remember to breathe.”

You nodded, trying to steady your hands. The chat was filled with messages of encouragement.

“You’ve got this, Y/N!”

“Don’t worry, you’ll do great!”

“We’re all rooting for you!”

Finally, you took a deep breath, picked up the controller, and started playing. Your hands trembled slightly, but Karina’s presence beside you helped ground you. “Okay, here we go...”

You weren’t flawless, and it took you a few tries, but each time you failed, Karina was right there, supporting you, giving you advice, and even laughing at your silly mistakes. “It’s alright, you’ll get it next time,” she said, her tone light and encouraging.

“I’m sorry I’m messing up,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Don’t be sorry,” Karina reassured you, giving your arm a gentle squeeze. “Everyone messes up. You’re doing great.”

And just like that, the anxiety started to melt away, little by little. You focused on the game more than the camera. You focused on Karina’s calm, encouraging voice, and soon enough, you were making progress. The chat was buzzing with comments, but this time, it felt less like an overwhelming storm and more like a friendly buzz of excitement. “OMG, Y/N’s doing it! He’s gonna win!”

“I love how supportive Karina is, they’re a perfect team.”

When you finally beat the level, you couldn’t help but let out a triumphant laugh. “I did it! I actually did it!”

Karina leaned over, giving you a playful kiss on the cheek. “I knew you could do it,” she said, her voice warm and filled with pride. “See? I told you you were ready.”

You smiled shyly, still not used to the attention but feeling proud of yourself. “Thanks, Karina. I… I couldn’t have done it without you.”

The chat was still going wild, but you didn’t mind it anymore. You felt more at ease now, knowing that you had Karina beside you, making this moment something special.

“You’re doing so well, Y/N. I think you just earned your place in the stream world.” Karina smiled at you, squeezing your hand. “Next time, let’s do it together. I’ll be your backup.”

You smiled back, feeling a sense of accomplishment and contentment. “Yeah. Let’s do it. Together.”

And from that moment on, you knew that whether you were on stream or off, you’d always have her by your side.

[comflexxed]

june wasn’t sure what made it worse — the warmth in hans’ voice, or the quiet ache buried beneath it. it lingered in the air between them like steam, curling upward, fragile and fleeting.

he stood still, box of cookies in hand, listening as hans spoke about his mom with that sort of reverence that made something catch in his throat. june could see it — the way she’d look at hans across the table, soft-eyed and teasing, like she already knew he was going to finish off the garlic bread before anyone else could reach for it. she never needed explanations. never asked for anything but honesty. there’d been something about her love that made people feel like they could stay. and hans had. for a while. but even the people who stay sometimes get lost.

that look — the one his mother gave everyone she loved. his thoughts were crowding each other. memories were lining up like photo frames in his mind. he could still picture the way hans used to shift under it, trying not to smile too wide, even as he melted under her quiet affection. june’s heart twisted at the memory. it wasn’t supposed to be painful. it had been one of the good ones, but it was all tangled together with the memory of that last fight. one that had ended in silence. a silence so sharp it made june feel like the bad guy in his own story.

blocking hans had been easy in the moment. it had felt like survival. but surviving wasn’t the same as healing.

now, years later, that silence was breaking in slow, careful pieces. and june didn’t know what to do with the sound of hans laughing again.

it was such a small comment but it landed heavy. that laugh, that shift in the air. the way it caught june off guard in the gentlest way possible. it was funny, almost unbearably so, how hans still had that effect on him. could still make him soften when he didn’t mean to. “my hair’s not gray yet,” he said, the words light but not hollow. “but i’ll take that as a compliment.”

he didn’t know what it meant, not really. this careful thaw, this way they were looking at each other like maybe they hadn’t aged out of who they used to be. hans’ hands were folded now, held back like they were bracing for something. and june felt that. felt the restraint. felt the reach that didn’t happen. the way hans seemed to be keeping himself in place with every ounce of control he had.

“i missed your laugh,” he said, quietly.

the slow breath he exhaled as june turned back felt like a betrayal to the part of him that was hurt. but if this was the last time he could see june again, if june never stepped foot in his bakery again, he wanted one more look. one more look he didn’t have before, when something that was so precious to him was cut off overnight with no warning.

of course, there was a warning. hans should have known that that fight was not like other fights before. it had everything to do with their future together. it bore so much weight, so much importance—and suddenly, silence. he shook his head, not wanting to go down that memory lane. not right now.

not when they were talking about his mom. 

he was wrong, though. hans was a stranger to her now—he should be. he was an extension of june for her to love, someone june brought home and cared for. and he wasn’t that anymore. he was the owner of this bakery june happened to buy his pastries from, and that’s it. that’s where their connection ended.

“it just would be difficult to navigate that. she always had that look,” he said, still in that same raw, honest tone, his eyes scanning the box of cookies as if suddenly wondering if they were made perfectly enough for her to taste. “she has that look that said you could never disappoint her, so disappointing her felt even worse than disappointing just anyone.”

despite his best attempts, memories of june’s home came rushing back, filling his thoughts with the familiar scent of spices, freshly made lasagna with the corner slice reserved just for him, because she knew how much he loved the burnt edges. it felt oddly comforting, taking him back to the good old days. and then, his memories reminded him that june was in the picture, sitting beside him and holding his hand under the table, and all hans could do was swallow back the bitterness he felt in his throat. 

it had been like that the first few days. the first few months. years. every good memory he remembered from every random moment was tinged with bile. thick and bitter and unwanted. like he was. 

june made that very clear when he blocked hans. 

hans thought of the ratio of flour to sugar in his cookies. how the subtle nutty scent of almond flour greeted him when he opened the lid. how the oven dinged a familiar sound every time he finished a batch of cookies. and how those melty chocolate chunks looked as soon as he opened the oven door. he thought of all the comforting things he could think of to counter the past. to remind himself of the present. 

he was good. people loved his cookies. he’s fine. 

his eyes finally looked at june then, letting them see those brown orbs that used to hold so much love, so much meaning. it felt impossible for them to still look the same even as they grew older, even as that young love left their gaze. it made hans laugh—not mocking, just amused. “you’re starting to look like your dad,” he commented, surprising even himself with how easily the words came out. perhaps like before, all he needed was time to thaw. 

hans clasped his hands together in front of him, a self-soothing gesture that also helped prevent him from doing the unthinkable, to reach out and touch june’s face, to see if he’d still feel the same under hans’ touch after all these years. “you still look like you, but you’ve grown.”

[thebeautifulfantastic]

how unfortunate that i have two hyperfixations, several side interests, and a load of homework all clamoring at the same time for priority in my brain

[kiyoomiee]

part one. part two. part three. part four.

boxer!sukuna who’s pining after you for over a year now. This man would constantly cross the lines and push any boundaries you set just so you could spare him one date. He doesn’t mind the chase, it only makes him want you more.

boxer!sukuna can’t take his eyes off of you during the company’s year-end party at the bar. His eyes were eating up the outfit you wore. The dress hung perfectly on your curves. He’s dying for a touch.

He’s on his sixth drink now, he’s tipsy for sure. You two were left alone in the VIP booth, while everyone partied on the dance floor. His arm rested on the back of your seat, fingers ghosting over your shoulder as he watched you drink your tequila shot.

You frowned at him when he stole the lemon you were holding. He smirked and raised his brow, silently daring you to take it from his fingers.

What he doesn’t realize was, you too had too many shots now and were high on liquid courage. Never breaking eye contact with him, you didn’t hesitate to move closer and suck on the fruit from his hold.

Fucking hell, you little minx. He bit his lower lip to suppress a groan.

His eyes dart from your eyes to your lips. You gasped when you felt his hot tongue licking upwards from your chin up to the side of your lips, savoring the lemon juice that dripped.

“Sukuna” You called him softly.

“Yeah, baby?” His half-lidded eyes stared back at you.

“I should punch you for that.”

He chuckled, your pouting lips only invites him more.

“A woman after my own heart.”

boxer!sukuna who possessively wraps his arm on the back of your thigh to pull you closer when he noticed Toji Fushiguro staring at you curiously. Toji, his sparring partner for today, was curious about the lady doctor that Sukuna was so obsessed with.

“Stop staring Toji, she’s mine.” He glared at the man from across the ring.

“‘m not yours Sukuna.”

“Could’ve fooled me baby, you’re wrapping bandage on my hand like a wife would do.”

“I literally do this for other players too.”

“Hmm.” Was all he replied, he was busy staring at your face. You rolled your eyes at him when you noticed.

“You’re so beautiful doc, wanna go out with me?” Your hands stopped for a moment, he didn’t miss the blush creeping up your face.

He’s been asking you for a date relentlessly over the past year. Maybe this time you’ll finally give in.

“When you win the championship this season, maybe I’ll say yes.” You say, avoiding his eyes as you finished wrapping up his hands.

Sukuna was stunned, he didn’t expect you’d say yes after rejecting him so many times.

“Fuck me. Fushiguro! You heard that? She finally agreed to be my woman!”

“Yeah I think you have a hearing problem, you lovesick fool.”

“He’s right. Selective hearing can damage your brain Sukuna. You aren’t even champion yet.”

You stated, but he doesn’t care. All Sukuna heard was that he finally has the chance to make you his (wife) girlfriend.

“I promise you, that belt will be my consolation prize. I’m coming home with you as my trophy.”

[floraleevee]

Being the go-to staff member to help coworkers while also having a supervisor who micromanages tf outta you as if they suspect you’re not working hard enough is really something 🫠👍

[atomicami]

while my heart heals…

ceo!sevika x fem!reader

- summary: you’re in a whirlwind when you and your boss catch your boyfriend with her fiancée in the act together. the heartbreak starts to affect your performance at work, and as a result, you decide to take a leave of absence so you can heal properly. but when your boss catches you handing the letter onto her desk, she ends up giving you some unexpected comfort—followed by a proper farewell.

- content: smut MDNI, modern au, corporate setting, NYC living (for now), reader works in sales, reader is dating jayce (only in the beginning), mel and sevika are engaged, age gap (reader is early-mid 20s, sevika is early-mid 40s), secret love affairs, infidelity/cheating followed by breaking up, hurt/comfort, porn with plot, fingering (r!receiving), semi-public sex (they do it in the office!), sevika being a tease and talking you through it, cockblocking, and also everyone is filthy rich in this

- author’s note: can’t stop thinking about getting with rich ceo sevika so i decided to write this out. i hope y’all like it!

“sometimes i don’t even know where i’m going but i’ll never forget where i come from i know who i am and who i will be and that’s why i have faith in myself”

(this fic is crossposted on ao3)

The rain hasn’t let up all day.

Thick, gray clouds spread across the sky, the city being consumed by the downpour. You barely notice it, though—your mind is still at the office, stuck between unfinished paperwork and the weight of another long day.

You’d expect to be home after your shift, and you did…only to end up getting ready to leave the house again later that evening.

It was for some corporate event. A birthday celebration for an executive, or was it a fundraiser? You hadn’t paid much attention to it when it was brought up in last week’s meeting. Frankly, it was the last thing you’d want to be doing after a long workday like this.

And yet, here you are—back home, standing in front of the mirror, completely unaware of what the night has in store.

You’ve lost count of the outfit changes you’ve given yourself in the past hour. No one really specified what the dress code was for the event—so in the end, you simply resorted to a crimson piece that hung in your closet, blended in with the rest of your outfits.

The dress hugs your figure beautifully. It was sleek and elegant, but you barely feel like yourself in it. It’s not like you don’t like dressing up—on the contrary, you actually enjoy it, especially given that your clothes have now taken up space on your boyfriend’s side of the closet as well. But with the weight of today and this entire week overall, the exhaustion consuming you was making it harder to pretend that you want to be at this party at all.

Your phone buzzes beside you, the text message from Jayce lighting up the screen indicating that he was here.

You exhale through your nose, finishing the touches on your makeup before smoothing down the fabric of your dress. It’s not that anything’s wrong. Jayce has been nothing but kind and thoughtful to you. He’s said all the right things and treated you like royalty for the past two years of your relationship with him. But lately, there’s been something…off. Something you can’t quite put your finger on.

You shake the thought of it away, grabbing your coat and clutch before heading out the door. It’s just one night, right?

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It was only a ten minute ride to the hotel, but for some reason you felt like the ride dragged out longer. Maybe it was because of the downpour of rain, or the evening traffic, as it always is in New York—or maybe it was just your lingering anxieties about showing up to an event like this. As the top saleswoman in Hexcorp, and now the girlfriend to one of the CEOs, you can’t help but feel the pressure of having to make the best impression all the time.

Upon arriving at the hotel, the valet opens the car door for you, and Jayce steps out first, immediately offering you his hand as if he’s effortlessly playing the part of a perfect gentleman. You force a small smile and take his hand, stepping carefully onto the slick pavement as the two of you walk through the revolving door.

The inside of the hotel is a stark contrast to the gloom outside. It was elegant, with warm golden lights, crystal chandeliers, and the soft hum of music on the piano surrounding you the moment you entered. The air is thick with chatter and laughter as well dressed attendees mingle around with cocktails in hand. 

Jayce keeps a steady hand on the small of your back as you both make your way deeper into the crowd, guiding you toward familiar faces. His touch is warm, but something about it feels…off. Too careful. Too practiced.

“Should we grab a drink?” he asks, yet he is already steering you towards the bar. You nod at his offer anyway, but your eyes wander.

And then you see her—your other boss.

Sevika.

Tall, broad, and impossible to miss, even in a room full of elites. She’s right across the bar, her suit tailored to perfection—coincidentally, it also was crimson, the same shade as your dress. The deep red fabric molds to her muscular frame, sharp lines hugging her body in all the right places. The top button of her shirt is undone, just enough to tease what lies underneath, and her posture is relaxed as ever, radiating effortless control. Her prosthetic arm gleams under the soft light, the intricate metal plating a sharp contrast to the rich fabric of her suit.

But she’s not alone.

Standing beside her is her fiancée, Mel Medarda.

But she doesn’t just stand there—she owns the space around her. A beautiful vision draped in a sleek, skin tight white gown that hugs her curves as if it were painted on. Gold jewelry glitters around her neck, and her perfectly manicured fingers rest lightly on Sevika’s arm in primal possession. And she sure doesn’t fail to show off the ring—a massive, dazzling marquise cut diamond perched proudly on her ring finger, glistening under the lights. Her skin glows alongside it, her rich brown complexion flawless, and her signature smirk tugs at the corners of her lips as if she knows every single person in the room is looking at her. As if she knows you’re looking at her.

That’s Mel Medarda for you. International supermodel. A walking fantasy who managed to get engaged with Sevika.

Your stomach twists, and you force yourself to look away before either of them can catch you staring. But your eyes betray you.

Because they find their way back to Sevika and Mel.

And Sevika?

She’s already looking at you.

You’re quick to pull your gaze away from Sevika’s, heart pounding a little harder than it should be. You’re not sure how long you’ve been staring, but the tension lingers in the air long after you look away. 

A familiar hand wraps around yours, fully pulling you out of your thoughts as you look back up to see Jayce nudging a glass of champagne into your hand. “Come on, let’s make the rounds.” he urges gently.

You nod with a distracted smile as you take the glass of champagne and follow alongside him, but the memory of Sevika’s striking gray eyes on you stays in the back of your mind.

An hour passes, but you feel like you’ve been here for an eternity already. You’re forcing yourself to smile as one of your coworkers goes on about the latest sales report. You’ve been hearing about it for the past hour, but you’re barely listening. Your mind keeps drifting back to when you first saw Sevika and Mel at the bar. Something about the way Sevika’s eyes lingered on you still makes your heart race.

“Great numbers this quarter,” your coworker continues, pulling you back to reality. “You’ve really outdone yourself with the new client investment. They’re already asking about you by name.”

You nod absently, pretending to care as your eyes scan the around room for any sign of Jayce. He’d been glued to your side all evening, but now you can’t seem to find him at all.

“Thank you,” you say, shaking them off politely. “I’ll follow up with the clients about it tomorrow.”

They simply smile back before walking off to engage with another coworker. You take another sip of your champagne as your eyes continue to search the room. Your attention shifts as you overhear another conversation between two other coworkers near the bar, talking about next quarter’s sales targets. As the company’s top saleswoman, you’re used to these conversations being centered around you. They look over at you with admiration, always taking mental notes on your strategies and approach.

“She really knows how to close a deal.” one of them says. “She’s a shark.”

The compliment barely registers in your head. All you could do was smile, too distracted by the fact that Jayce was nowhere to be seen.

“Excuse me,” you murmur, sliding past them as you start to brush through the crowd.

The search feels longer than it actually is. You weave through the crowd, giving polite smiles and dodging conversations as you slip through groups of colleagues and executives. The music and laughter fill the air, but none of it gets to you. Your mind is fixated on one thing—finding where the hell your boyfriend is.

You try to be in denial about it, telling yourself that you’re just overreacting. Maybe Jayce just stepped outside to take a call or grabbed another drink at the bar. But deep down, that unsettling feeling refuses to leave your system. You finally reach the bar, but there’s no sign of him there.

“Have you seen Jayce?” you ask over to the coworker who sat there.

They blink, looking around before shaking their head. “Uh, no…not for a while. Maybe he stepped out?”

You give them a quick nod, muttering a quiet thanks before moving on, the knot in your stomach tightening even more. Your heels click faster against the marble floor as you move toward the quieter area of the venue, the noise and chatter slowly fading away with each step you take. Down the hall, a row of private rooms stretches ahead, each of them closed except for the very last one at the end of the hallway. You walk slower now, feeling the air get thicker with each step. You shouldn’t be anxious about this.

And yet…you are.

Your fingers brush against the smooth surface of the champagne glass in your hand, your grip tightening instinctively around the flute. You tell yourself to relax, but the words do nothing to alleviate you from the uneasiness that was settling into your bones.

And that’s when you hear it—muffled voices in a low and urgent tone. At first, you think it’s just another couple hidden away in the room for privacy. But something about these voices feels…familiar. Too familiar.

You take another step forward, your pulse pounding louder in your ears with each beat. Your stomach twists once more when you see the familiar head of jet black hair in your eyeline. The door is slightly ajar, and a warm light spills into the hallway. You hesitate, your grip getting tighter on the glass as you listen.

“We can’t keep doing this,” Jayce mutters, his voice rough and raw. His head moves slightly, just enough for you to see a glimpse of her—a glimpse of Mel.

“And yet…” Mel replies, her voice soft and sultry as she pauses. “You keep coming back.”

A breathy chuckle escapes him, followed by his hand shifting through the open slit on Mel’s dress as he moves closer to her. “I can’t help myself,” Jayce murmurs, his voice lower now, filled with a kind of desire you’ve never heard from him. “You drive me fucking crazy.”

“Is that so?” Mel muses back, her voice laced with pure seduction. “Then why do you keep wasting time?”

Your heart sinks down to your stomach, body going rigid as the pieces fall into place. The way Jayce had been acting around you, all those ‘late nights’ he’d spend in the office—it all made sense now.

“Because I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Jayce’s confession lingers in the air, his voice filled with desperation. “Even when I’m with her…all I think about is you.”

Your eyes widen in shock, your heart shattering as the champagne class trembles in your hand. It wasn’t just what Jayce had said, it was how he said it—straightforward, no hesitation whatsoever. There was no guilt. Just raw, unfiltered honesty, spoken so easily it feels like the knife was plunging deeper into your chest.

Like he never even cared.

You feel your fingers going numb on the glass as the wave of realization crashes over you. The love, the trust, the loyalty—it makes you wonder if it had meant anything to him.

Or were you just convenient?

The thought burns in your brain, leaving an ache so deep that it makes it hard to breathe.

And yet, he doesn’t even notice.

“Jayce…we really shouldn’t…” Mel reminds him, her voice softer now.

He simply scoffs at that, shaking his head in disbelief. “Come on, Mel…you want this just as bad as I do.” he breathes out, and you hear the rustle of fabric between them—their clothes shifting as their bodies press closer.

And then—the kiss hits between them. It was slow, deep and desperate. Your vision blurs at the corners of your eyes, and you don’t even register the champagne flute slipping from your fingers, hitting the marble floor with a loud shatter that echoes throughout the hallway. Tiny shards of glass surround your stiletto-covered feet, but you’re too frozen, too numb to even notice.

However, the shatter startles them both, causing them to freeze instantly, their lips pulling apart as the sharp echo rang through the room. Their bodies go rigid as they slowly turn their heads toward the doorway. Mel’s eyes widen, a panicked expression crossing her face. Jayce’s breathing quickens, his heart rate rising once he sees you. His hands, which had been all over Mel just moments ago, twitch slightly at his sides as he steps back, his eyes still not taking off of you.

“Jayce?” 

Your voice was soft and shaky as his name escaped your lips, but it was enough to make them freeze as the realization hit them. His lips part, but no words come out at first. Mel’s eyes flicker between the two of you, her body shifting towards Jayce in hopes of hiding away.

“It’s…it’s not what it looks like,” he finally breathes out, his voice barely above a whisper, panic and guilt filling his tone. The words hang in the air, completely meaningless to you—but you don’t respond, you just can’t. 

Because even as he said it—you know he’s clearly lying.

Mel hasn’t said a word. She’s too busy avoiding your gaze, her lips slightly parted as if she’s trying to think of something to say, but nothing comes out. For a woman who’s career relies on confidence, she’s sure failing to show it at this exact moment. 

You don’t move. Don’t blink. In fact, your mind doesn’t register anything else besides the scene that had unfolded in front of you. You don’t even notice the door now fully swung open beside you, or the sudden warmth that lingered right behind you. But you do see the shift in their faces—especially Mel’s—as the panic flashes deeper in her eyes.

“Mel?”

The name cuts through the air like a blade, and your stomach drops. That voice—deep, low, and now laced with pure fury—comes from behind you. Slowly, you turn around.

Sevika stands in the doorway now, her broad frame blocking out most of the light coming from the hall. Her expression is unreadable at first, but you can see how tightly her jaw is clenched as she tries, but fails to stay calm.

“Sevika…” Mel’s voice trembles, almost at the same level as Jayce.

But Sevika doesn’t respond. Not at first. Her eyes don’t leave Mel, dark with rage—as if she were a storm on the verge of breaking. Her presence looms behind you, grounding you in the chaos swarming around.

“What the fuck is this?” Sevika growls, her voice low and cold. Her eyes flicker between Mel and Jayce, taking in the way their bodies are still too close to each other. The way Mel’s hand lingered on Jayce’s chest before dropping down only heated the anger inside her even more.

It was her fiancée and her colleague—together, behind her back.

The room suddenly feels smaller to you now, almost suffocating. Your hands tremble at your sides, fingers curling into fists as an emotional mix of heartbreak and rage bubbles inside you. But your eyes stay locked on Jayce.

“How long?”

Your voice is barely above a whisper, yet it was loud enough to cut through the tension. Jayce’s jaw clenches anxiously. His eyes are widened in a mix of desperation and cowardice, pleading silently for your mercy. “Babe…” he murmurs softly, as if that name could fix what was already beyond repair.

“How long, Jayce?” you repeat. Your voice is louder the second time, more stern and forceful. Jayce’s mouth opens again, but nothing comes out. He hesitates, his eyes flickering over to Mel for a split second. Big mistake.

You see it, and so did Sevika.

“Answer her fucking question, Jayce.” Sevika growls behind you, her tone low, almost threatening. “Don’t make her ask again.”

Jayce stiffens, swallowing hard, and finally looks back at you, letting out an exhale of defeat before responding. “A…a year.”

Your stomach drops.

You force out a breath, still in shock and disbelief over what you had just heard. “A year?” you shake your head, letting out a humorless laugh. “You’ve been sneaking around with her for a year, and you have the fucking nerve to tell me that it’s not what it looks like?”

The tears start to build in your eyes, and Jayce steps forward, but you take a quick step back. “Don’t.” you snap, your hands shaking. “I don’t want to fucking hear it.” 

Sevika exhales sharply beside you, her arms crossed, trying to hold herself back. “This is fucking unbelievable,” she mutters, her eyes not leaving Jayce. “You’ve been lying to her for a year? And you…” her gaze snaps over to Mel. “What do you even have to say for yourself?”

Mel’s lips part, but no words come out.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Sevika lets out a laugh that was just as cold as yours. “I put a damn ring on your finger.”

Mel takes a step closer to her, a weak attempt in trying to redeem herself. “I-I had wanted to tell you—”

“Oh yeah?” Sevika scoffs, shaking her head in disbelief. “And when exactly were you going to tell me? After we got married?”

Mel’s lips part again, but the only sound that comes out is a shaky breath.

“What a fucking joke,” she mutters her gaze shifting between the two. “You’re both pathetic.”

Another shaky breath slips from Mel’s lips. “Sevika, darling please—”

“Save it.”

Sevika takes another step forward, her presence commanding the room. But this time, she doesn’t stop. Mel instinctively moves back, accidentally bumping into Jayce’s chest. His hands instinctively grab her shoulders to steady her, giving her a look of reassurance to make sure she was okay.

And that was the final straw for you.

You let out a sharp breath, shaking your head as the realization crashes down harder. This was never just a mistake.

You glance at Sevika, and when your eyes meet with hers, there’s a newfound connection between you both. Without another word, you turn on your heel, your chest still tight as you pass by the three of them and leave the room. Sevika follows right after, her heavy footsteps matching yours as you step over the shattered glass and out of the room, leaving them both in the mess of their own betrayal.

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The days that followed from the incident felt like a blur.

You throw yourself into work, burying yourself in reports, emails, and endless meetings. You figured it’d be easier that way—keeping busy. If your mind is constantly occupied, then there wouldn’t be any time to think about him, right?

But regardless, it was impossible to ignore. 

Jayce keeps his distance from you, both inside and outside of work. He’s been staying somewhere else in the meantime, you’re not sure if it’s with Mel, or back in his large family estate, but frankly, you couldn’t care less about his whereabouts. As for the office, he doesn’t try to talk to you. No apologies. No explanations. Just…silence.

You didn’t want to admit it, but that alone hurts more than if he had tried.

Of course, you’ve still maintained your position in Hexcorp as top saleswoman, but even that feels empty to you now. Your numbers are still flawless, but the passion, the drive that used to push you forward in your career—it was gone. It honestly even makes you question why you’re still here in this building, or even New York as a whole. Deep down, it makes you wish that you could find yourself an escape from this.

And that sign was given to you just a couple of days ago.

You had broken the news to your parents over the phone. It was quite the shock to them—they’d mostly see you together with Jayce on holidays, but given how he always carried himself and the way he treated you, this was the last thing they ever expected.

But what hurt them the most was hearing just how broken you sounded when you told them.

“I just…I don’t get it,” your voice cracked, and you blinked back tears as your grip tightened on your phone. “How could he do this to me?”

“Oh, mija…I’m so sorry.” your mom’s voice had been soft when you told her, but it had the kind of heaviness that only came from a mother hearing her child in pain. You tried to keep your words to a minimum, tried to hold yourself together, but the more you tried to speak, the harder it was to keep you from breaking.

Your dad was silent for a moment before his voice came through the phone, steady but laced with a subtle hint of anger. “You know, I never liked that Talis boy to begin with.”

You can hear the soft tsk your mom gives to your dad, but you can hear the frustration in her voice too.

“Hey, I’m just saying,” he grumbled, his tone softening after a second. “You deserve better, kid. So much better.”

There’s a quick pause before your mother speaks again. “Why don’t you go stay over at the beach house for a while?” your mom suggested gently, her voice warm and comforting. “Spend some time in Miami, clear your head. “Your relatives are close by if you need anything, and I’m sure your abuela would love to see you too.”

You pause for a moment to think over your mother’s suggestion. The beach house was your childhood escape—sitting along the Miami shore where the sun was always warmer and the waves would effortlessly wash your worries away. It was nothing like New York, where the chilly, heavy atmosphere was harder to breathe in. 

However, you couldn’t risk the chances of losing your job for being gone for so long. But deep down, maybe this was what you really needed—a sweet escape, a place where you can truly heal your heart and ground yourself back to your roots.

Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

You take a deep breath, nodding to yourself as your grip now relaxes on your phone. “You’re right,” you murmur softly, the words leaving your lips before you even realize it. “I could really use something like that right now.”

Your mother’s relieved sigh comes through the line, and your father’s quiet agreement follows right after. “I’m so glad to hear that,” she says gently. “You deserve a break from this, mija.”

“Hey, get some rest, alright?” your dad chimes. “And call us as soon as you get there.”

“I will,” you promise, voice barely above a whisper now.

The call ends with quiet goodbyes, leaving you now sitting in the dim, quiet space of the house you once shared with Jayce. The silence feels heavier here—every room still holds traces of the life you built together, yet it all feels so distant now.

You take a deep breath, reaching over for your laptop before bringing it onto your lap, and without a second thought, you book yourself a one-way ticket to Miami—far away from the chaos that was suffocating you in New York.

And once that’s done, there’s only one thing left to do—write out your leave of absence letter and leave it on Sevika’s desk first thing tomorrow morning.

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The next morning, the familiar buzz of the office surrounds you, but it all feels like background noise. You’re at your desk, staring blankly at your computer screen as you zone out into the unfinished spreadsheet on the screen. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Jayce and Sevika step out of their shared office and head toward the conference room down the hall. You couldn’t help but keep your gaze on Sevika for a little longer. She looks composed on the outside, but you can see it—the slight tension in her shoulders, the quiet exhaustion in her eyes—she’s holding it together just like you. You look away before she notices you, swallowing down the ache in your chest as they leave.

Once you made sure they were gone, you clutch the letter into your hand as you push back your chair and stand. Your footsteps are quiet as you pass by your busy coworkers and make your way toward their shared office, the door left slightly ajar enough for you to slip inside. Your eyes land on Sevika’s side of the office, the dark wood of her desk reflecting the soft light filtering in through the windows. You take a step toward it, unfolding the letter in front of you to place it on her desk. However, you couldn’t help but notice the soft, navy velvet box quietly sitting on the surface. Your heart skips a beat, knowing exactly what it is without even having to open it.

The engagement ring.

Mel had already given it back.

The box is closed, yet the weight of what it holds feels heavy in the air. Your mind flashes back to that night, to the look on Sevika’s face when she saw Mel with Jayce together. The devastation in her eyes, masked by fury—seeing her hurt you more than when you had seen them. You let out a shaky breath, fingers trembling slightly as they brush against the edge of your letter, but before you can set it down—

“Leaving something for me?”

The deep, unmistakable voice sends a chill down your spine. You freeze, eyes widening as your body goes rigid. Your heart pounds in your chest as panic starts to settle into your bones.

Slowly, you turn around. Sevika stands in the doorway, her tall frame effortlessly filling the space around her. Her expression is unreadable, but her sharp eyes are locked on the letter in your hand.

“Sevika, I-I was just—”

Her brow arches slightly as she shuts the door and steps further into the office, her gaze not leaving yours.

“What’s that?”

Her voice is calm, but you couldn’t ignore the tension behind it. The panic continues to fill up inside you as you instinctively pull the letter closer to your chest, as if that was going to shield it away from her. “It’s…it’s nothing,” you murmur, but the crack in your voice betrays you. Her eyes narrow down to the paper in your hand, and before you can move her hand reaches out, flesh fingers brushing over yours as she gently but firmly takes the letter from your grip.

“Sevika, wait—”

But it’s too late. Her eyes scan the words on the page, her brows furrowing deeper with each passing second as she reads through the letter. You see her jaw tighten, her throat bobbing as she swallows hard. “Leave of absence?” she asks, slowly setting the letter down and bringing her gaze back up to you. “You’re…you’re leaving?”

Your throat tightens, unsure of what else to say. “I was going to tell you,” you murmur softly, looking down at your feet, unable to meet her gaze. “I just…I need some time.”

“Why?”

You can hear the concern in her voice—a hint of vulnerability that you’ve never heard from her before. You finally look up, your eyes meeting hers. “Because I can’t do this anymore.”

Her eyes darken with uncertainty. “Do what?”

You swallow, heart painfully thrumming against your ribs. “Be here. Pretend that everything’s okay when it’s not.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, and you don’t notice Sevika’s gaze softening when you look over to Jayce’s side of the office. “Jayce and I...We built a life together. And now, it’s gone.” Your voice cracks, and you blink rapidly to keep the tears at bay as you look back at her. “Every corner of this place reminds me of what I just lost. I just…I need to get away. To breathe. To heal.”

Her jaw clenches, her eyes flickering away from yours for a moment. “It’s just…” She hesitates, running a hand down her face before exhaling a breath that sounds heavier than it should. “You’re my best saleswoman.” Her voice is quieter now, almost as if she’s trying to convince herself of something. “I can’t afford to lose you.”

But it was never about the numbers. Not when it came to you. You know there’s more to it—something deeper. You can feel it in the way her gaze lingers on you, in the way her body gets just a little too tense, as if she’s holding something back.

“I’m not…” Your voice trails off to a sigh as you shake your head. “I’m not quitting, Sevika. I just need some time. Please.”

For a moment, neither of you speak. The air between you is heavy, the silence in the room stretching longer than it should.

“How long?” she asks softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I don’t know,” you admit, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your blouse. “But I…I need this.”

Sevika doesn’t speak right away. Her expression is unreadable as she looks at you, but before you can process it—before you can say anything else—she moves toward you. Strong arms wrap around you, pulling you into a firm but careful embrace.

Your breath catches in your throat. Sevika has never been the type of person to do gestures like this. She’s never been the comforting, reassuring presence in someone’s life—at least, not in this way. But right now, she holds you close to her like she’s afraid to let you go, like she knows how much you need this more than you do. Your eyes squeeze shut as you clutch the fabric of her suit jacket, your fingers curling into the cotton tightly to keep you grounded.

“I get it,” she murmurs, her voice softer now. “Believe me, I do.”

Her words send another shiver down your spine, because she does get it.

Mel. The woman she was supposed to spend the rest of her life with.

You exhale shakily, pressing your forehead against her shoulder. “Then you of all people should know why I have to go.”

Sevika’s arms tighten around you just for a second before she finally releases you, stepping back just enough to meet your gaze. “Yeah,” she murmurs, her jaw tight as she watches you carefully. “I know.”

But that doesn’t mean that she wants you to go. Her eyes still linger on yours, and something shifts between you. Sevika looks at you like she’s fighting a battle within herself—like she’s trying to hold herself back from doing something that she may—or may not regret.

“Sevika…” you whisper, your voice quiet enough to break the silence between you.

She doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t move. But her eyes—they tell you everything. You feel it before you see it—the way she leans in, her body instinctively drawn to yours like a magnet. It’s slow, almost hesitant, as if she's giving you an open chance to pull away. But you don’t. You can’t. 

Instead, your hand drifts up, brushing lightly over her jaw. She tilts her head towards your palm, melting into your touch. Her eyes flutter shut for a brief movement before they open again—darker, filled with something you can’t describe. 

And then, the distance between you two disappears. Her lips meet yours, and the world seems to fall away. The kiss is tentative at first, making you both afraid to take too much from each other. But the tension is quick to snap, and suddenly, the kiss deepens. Her flesh hand slides around the back of your neck, fingers threading through your hair as she pulls you closer. The cool metal of her prosthetic rests against your waist, grounding you in the moment. Your body presses into hers, and you feel like this should be wrong, but it doesn’t. On the contrary, it feels…right. Like this is where you’re meant to be instead. It’s nothing compared to how you’ve felt with Jayce. You absolutely lose yourself in her—her touch, her taste, the way she holds you like you’re something precious. Like you’re exactly where she wants to be."

She finally pulls back, breathless and dazed, her forehead resting gently against yours. “I really don’t want you to go…” Sevika murmurs, the desperation in her voice tugging at your heart. Your thumb brushes along her jaw again, a bittersweet smile spread on your lips. “I know,” you whisper, eyes searching hers. “But I have to.”

“Well, in that case…” Sevika replies, her thumb lightly brushing over your bottom lip as her eyes darken with intent. Her lips curl into a sly smirk, her gaze burning into yours. “Let me give you a proper goodbye.”

Your breath catches in your throat, and before you can even think, her lips crash into yours again. Unlike the last one, this kiss is more desperate, filled with everything the both of you have been holding back for far too long. Her flesh hand grips your waist firmly, pulling you flush against her, while the hard press of her prosthetic along your hip sends a shiver through you. Her lips move with a hunger that makes your knees weak. But you couldn’t give in like this.

“Sevika…” you manage to breathe out her name between heated kisses, your lips barely parting from hers. But she hears it.

And as much as it kills you, you pull back. Your eyes meet hers—her pupils dilated with desire, but there’s hesitation filling in yours. “We…we can’t.” Your voice is shaky and uncertain. “Jayce and Mel…it isn’t right…”

Sevika doesn’t respond right away. Her forehead simply rests against yours, her breath warm against your skin. “No…” she murmurs softly, her voice low but firm. “They’re the ones who threw it all away. It’s their loss, not ours.”

Your eyes widen slightly as her words sink in, but she doesn’t give you a chance to pull away. Her gaze is more intense now, searching yours for any sense of doubt. But there’s something else in her eyes—something raw, vulnerable, and aching for you just as much as you ache for her. “It doesn’t matter anymore.” Her voice is barely above a whisper now, but there’s so much behind her words.

And in that moment, you know she’s right. The weight of the heartbreak, betrayal, and confusion still lingers, but now it all fades away with you being in her arms. Her lips claim yours once more, and the heat inside you ignites all over again. Her hands slide down your back, guiding you as she walks you backward across the room. Your heart pounds in your chest, but you don’t stop her. Not this time.

The edge of the desk presses against the backs of your thighs, and her hands are already pushing everything aside, sending papers and pens scattering to the floor. Sevika lifts you up effortlessly in one smooth motion, placing you on the desk as her lips refuse to leave yours. 

However, neither of you realize where you’ve really ended up—Jayce’s desk.

But at this moment, with Sevika’s hands all over you and her lips claiming yours…none of it matters.

Sevika presses her body against yours, pinning you to the desk as she stands between your parted legs. You can feel every hard inch of her muscular frame, the heat of her skin radiating through her suit. Sevika pulls back slightly, her lips trailing kisses along your jawline and down your neck. You tilt your head back to give her better access, and a soft moan slips from your mouth once she nips at your pulse point, her teeth grazing your soft skin before she soothes the sting with her tongue.

You’re barely able to keep your balance on the desk, your breath shallow as her touch stirs something deep inside you. Your eyes dart to the closed blinds, the faint silhouettes of your coworkers just outside, completely unaware of what’s happening behind them. Your heart starts to race—not from desire, but from the undeniable risk of it all. It feels like you’re playing with fire, and yet…you can’t help but take the heat.

“S-Sevika,” you murmur, trying to steady your breathing. “We—someone could see—”

Sevika cuts your sentence off instantly with a hushed, teasing whisper. “Shh…” she breathes, her voice low. “If you stay quiet…then no one will know.”

She leans in, kissing you hard while her hand works quickly to unbutton your slacks, pushing them down to your ankles. “You need this, baby, I know you do.” Her voice is a low rasp, sending shivers down your spine that makes her see right through you. "Stop overthinking, and just let me take care of you.” 

To emphasize her point, her flesh hand shifts from your slacks to underneath your blouse, her warm fingertips brushing over your stomach as it moves up north. She cups your breast, her thumb brushing over your nipple through the thin lace of your bra. The sensation makes you gasp, your back arching into her touch. Sevika takes advantage of this and trails kisses down your chest, pushing your blouse up as she goes. She tugs your bra down, freeing your breasts to the cool air of the office. Then, in an instant, she leans down and takes one of your nipples into her mouth, sucking and biting at the sensitive bud, eliciting a whine from your lips over the sensation. Her hand slides back down your stomach, fingers now toying with the waistband of your underwear. She looks up at you, waiting for your permission to continue, to which you nod in approval.

With that, she hooks her fingers and shifts your underwear to the side, exposing your pussy to her. She leans back, using two fingers to part open your puffy folds only to be taken aback by how wet you were. “God, baby…you’re this wet for me already?” she mutters, gently sliding her fingers through your wet slit. You reply to her with a whiny nod, gently rutting your hips against the pads of her fingers for more. She simply chuckles at your desperate pleas, gently inserting a finger into your hole but only to be surprised when she sees how you resist her single finger. “Fuck, you’re so tight…” she pants out, carefully trying to push more of her finger in. “When was the last time someone touched you like this?”

Your breath hitches, and for a moment, you hesitate. But the truth weighs heavier than the silence between you. “Too long…” you finally breathe, your voice barely a whisper. Your eyes trail away from her, a flash of frustration and sadness crossing your face. “Jayce…he hasn’t—” your words falter with a sudden gasp when Sevika pushes her finger farther inside you. She brings her metal hand up to your jaw, the smooth yet unyielding grip making you face her. “His loss,” she mutters, lips brushing against yours again. “How about you let me remind you how it’s supposed to feel, yeah?"

Sevika doesn't falter just yet, she starts to work her finger in and out of your tight cunt, slowly at first but gradually increasing force once you become used to the resistance. Her thumb meets with your clit, rubbing firm circles around the sensitive nub as she continues to pump her finger in and out of your pussy. You whine and begin to squirm and shake at the sensation, but Sevika is quick to slide her prosthetic hand on your waist, keeping you grounded onto the desk as the cool wooden surface presses against your skin. She then adds another finger in, scissoring them inside you as her thumb continues its assault on your clit. You whine at the stretch, unable to take it, but your body starts to betray you by giving the opposite response—sucking Sevika’s fingers further inside rather than resisting. The wet squelching sounds of her fingers plunging into your soaked cunt fill the office, mixing with your restrained whines and the harsh pants of her own breathing. 

“S-Sevika,” you whine, trying to wriggle yourself away. “I-I can’t…t-too much…”

“Too much?” Sevika chuckles against your skin, her fingers still working into your cunt. “Then why’s your greedy little cunt begging me for more?” Her gaze drops down to your pussy, admiring at how your desperate hole continues to suck her fingers in while your arousal drips around them. “Needy girl, taking in my fingers like this,” her gaze flickers back up to you. “I’m gonna need these back, you know. Can’t keep them forever, sweetheart.”

All you can do is whine and whimper, your chest and stomach tightening as you try to keep yourself quiet so as to not startle your coworkers outside. But Sevika doesn’t make it any easier for you once she speeds up the pace, the desk shifting slightly beneath you as if it was imitating the consequences of what you’re doing. The thought of Jayce sitting here tomorrow, completely unaware of what happened on his desk today, makes a dangerous thrill pulse through your veins. Jayce might have carried your past, but Sevika was putting herself into your present, claiming you as hers with every deep curl of her fingers, making sure your body never forgets the feeling of her. 

She looks back up at you, her eyes darkening as she watches your face twist in pleasure. Your cunt begins to clench tighter around her fingers, along with the coil that's been winding deep in your stomach, you were getting close, and Sevika could tell. Her fingers never stop their relentless pace, pumping in and out of your clenching heat, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. She glances back up at you just to admire the drunk look on your face. “Look at you, so desperate to cum already, yeah?” she muses, her prosthetic shifting from your waist to push down on your lower stomach, only making it worse for you to restrain yourself. “Go on, sweetheart, cum for me. But remember…” she trails off, jerking her head over to the closed blinds. “They don’t need to know what’s going on.”

Her words are filthy, but they only serve to turn you on more, pushing you closer to your impending release. Your hand grips tightly onto the edge of the desk while the other claws at Sevika’s forearm in desperation, which does nothing but spur her on with her words. At this point, she’s practically begging for you to cum now, just so she can see you fall apart for her. “That’s it, baby—don’t hold back. Let me feel it. Come for me, sweetheart.”

Her words, combined with the relentless pace of her fingers, finally push you over the edge. Your orgasm crashes through you like a tidal wave, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your cunt clamps down around her fingers like a vice. Your mouth parts open, body giving in as you’re tempted to scream her name, but Sevika is quick to lean in and attach her lips back to yours, muffling your cries of pleasure as your release gushes into her fingers and onto the desk. But she doesn’t let up just yet, working you through your orgasm with her fingers until you’re a shaking, mewling mess beneath her. 

Once the aftershocks start to subside, she finally slows down, gently withdrawing her flesh fingers out of your sensitive cunt. She brings her hand up to her lips, making a show of licking your juices from her fingers, her eyes closing in bliss as she savors your taste. “Fuck, you taste even better than I imagined,” she murmurs, a satisfied smirk spreading across her face. “I should’ve used my mouth on you instead if I knew you were going to taste this sweet.”

You chuckle lazily, looking up at her with heavy eyes as you recover from your orgasm. “Well, you can go for seconds if you’d like, Sev.” you tease, kicking off your heels and bunched up slacks from your feet before spreading your legs farther out to her, leaving your fucked out cunt on full display to her gaze. Sevika’s eyes darken at your newfound position, getting nothing but more turned on at the sight of you spread out on her colleague’s desk. She glances down to your cunt, her smirk spreading wider as she sees your release pooling underneath you, darkening the wood of the desk. “You’ve sure made a mess, pretty girl,” she says, her voice almost accusatory as if she wasn’t the one who made you cum like that. “Luckily, I’m willing to clean that up for you.”

In an instant, Sevika drops to her knees in front of you, hooking her flesh arm beneath your thigh while her prosthetic grips the other, pulling you closer. Your breath hitches as Sevika lowers herself in front of you, her hold firm—one soft and warm, the other cold and unrelenting. Her lips tease their way back up to your pussy, ready to satisfy you once more, until—

“Where’s Sevika?”

Jayce’s words echo faintly from the hallway, distant but close enough to send a jolt of panic through your veins. Sevika freezes for just a second before quickly getting back up on her feet. The two of you scramble around—adjusting clothes, fixing hair, cleaning down the surface and scattering papers in your desperate attempt to make it look like nothing happened on this desk.

But Sevika already moves before you can think of a backup plan. With full precision, she snatches up the paperwork she was originally looking for, strides across the office, and yanks the door open right before Jayce can.

“You were supposed to wait in the conference room,” she growls, her tone now back to cold as she shoves the paperwork into his chest.

Jayce blinks, caught off guard by her appearance. “I—I was just—”

“Don’t.” Her jaw clenches, eyes narrowing down at him. “Go. Now.”

Her tone leaves no room for argument. As Jayce turns, footsteps retreating down the hall, Sevika lingers for just a second before glancing back inside—her eyes meeting yours. The heat from moments ago still lingers between you, but with one last knowing smirk, she follows after Jayce before closing the door shut, as if nothing had happened.

And you?

You’re still gripping the edge of his desk, breath unsteady, pulse still racing. Even as you slip your clothes back on, even as you straighten up Jayce’s desk—you can still feel the heat from Sevika on your body. Your lips are still slightly swollen from her kisses, your skin tingling in places that haven’t felt alive in…well, longer than you’d care to admit. You swallow hard, your mind replaying every breathless second. Your cheeks flush again, and your hands tremble slightly as you reposition Jayce’s things—only to realize it’s still out of place.

Get it together.

Your hands work quickly, smoothing out the papers, straightening the chair, making sure there’s no trace of what just happened. The last thing you need is Jayce walking in and sensing something.

No one can know.

Your fingers graze your pulse point, still feeling the phantom pressure of her lips there. You swallow down the feeling, force your hands to stay busy—tidying the last of the evidence, pressing a shaky hand to your chest, forcing a deep breath—before you finally slip out of the office, your head spinning.

And yet, as you settle back at your desk, pretending like nothing happened, you can still feel her on you.

But what’s even worse than feeling her…is wanting it to happen a second time.

˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚ ✧ ˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚ ✧ ˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚ ✧ ˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚ ✧ ˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘

The sun barely peeks through your curtains when your alarm blasts through the silence. Your eyes snap open, heart pounding as you fumble to shut it off. You squint over at the time on your phone, only for your eyes to quickly widen in panic. You were supposed to be up an hour ago.

In an instant, you throw off the covers, the chill of the morning air making your skin prickle with goosebumps as you rush to get ready. As you take a quick shower and get dressed, your mind is still foggy from everything that happened yesterday—leaving the office, Sevika, the kiss, and the overwhelming decision to leave. But there’s no time to think about that now.

Your suitcase is already half-packed from last night, so you grab the last of your things and shove them into your bag without thinking twice. You barely glance in the mirror before you’re out the door, heart pounding in your ears. The taxi sits on the curb, waiting for God knows how long—and you rush into it, not even bothering to comfortably put your suitcase in the trunk and squeezing it alongside you instead. The city itself is still waking up as you slide into the backseat. 

“Kennedy Airport,” you mumble, barely able to catch your breath as the driver nods and pulls into traffic.

Rain taps lightly against the window as you stare outside, the familiar skyline of New York blurred by streaks of water. This is it. You were getting away from the city that had been your home for years—where you built a career and nurtured a relationship, only to watch it all fall apart in the blink of an eye. You lean back against the seat, your eyes drifting shut for just a moment, trying to calm the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you. But her face still flashes in your mind.

Sevika.

The memory of her kiss, her touch—heated, desperate, and impossible to forget—continues to linger in your mind. But nonetheless you shake your head, forcing the thought away as you tell yourself that it’s not what you need right now.

By the time you arrive at the airport, it’s nothing but chaos. You navigate through the sea of travelers, heart pounding as you sprint toward your gate. Your boarding pass feels like it’s burning in your hand as you rush through security, your pulse racing with every step.

Until you finally make it to Gate 17, departing to Miami.

You make it just as they begin the final boarding call, breathless and slightly disoriented. The agent barely glances up as they scan your ticket, giving you a quick nod to proceed. Your pace is calmer now as you walk through the ramp, the relief extending into peace the moment you enter the plane. As you set your carry-on into the overhead compartment and settle into your window seat, a shaky exhale slips from your mouth as your body finally relaxes. Your pulse slows, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you finally let yourself breathe.

You’re even blessed to have an empty seat beside you, thank God.

You close your eyes, head resting lightly against the head cushion of the seat. The distant hum of the engines vibrates through you, lulling your body into a sense of calm. A sense of peace. You don’t even register the measured footsteps approaching, growing heavier until they stop beside you. You don’t open your eyes right away, too caught up in the quiet you were finally starting to enjoy. But then—

Your name is called. And the familiar voice makes your heart stop. Your eyes flutter back open, head tilting to your left only for the calm in your body to be replaced by an element of surprise and shock once you see the familiar broad frame that stood in the narrow space alongside you.

“Sevika?”

Her name leaves your lips barely above a breath, but it’s enough to make her eyes darken. Her expression is unreadable, but the subtle flicker of surprise in her gaze says enough.

She didn’t know. You didn’t tell her where you were going.

And yet… she’s here.

And in that moment, as she finally lowers herself into the seat beside you, you know—

This changes everything.

But maybe, just maybe…some change is exactly what you needed.

- a/n: i need to stop making my fics so damn long omg 😭 i’m not sure if y’all fw ceo sevika like i do, but i could try to write out a part 2 if it catches any interest, we’ll see…

2025 © atomicami | all rights reserved. do not copy, modify, or translate any of my works.

[5sospenguinqueen]

Toy Cars | Fernando Alonso x Mum! Reader

Summary: Fernando boasts about his step-sons to anyone who will listen. So, when you realise you want more, he's confused why your little family is no longer enough.

Warnings: angst, slight age gap. i pictured reader about 35

Requested: no

just a short one compared to the others

F1 Masterlist

next.

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fernandoalo_official just posted

liked by astonmartinf1, aussiegrit and others

fernandoalo_official not been an easy weekend so far but it’s made easier when one of my favourite people is in the paddock

14,114 comments

jensonbutton but i’m not working this weekend?

→ lance_stroll we all know i’m his other favourite person

→ fernandoalo_official no, the twins are

→ user1 step dad nando has my whole heart

→ yn_ln mine too! 

user2 a hug from fernando would heal me

→ user3 a hug from y/n would heal me

yn_ln weekends where i get to see you are my favourite

→ user4 i will never be normal about these two 

→ user5 it’s the fact that he watches the f2 races because it gives him an excuse to hang out with y/n 

astonmartinf1 our favourite couple 

user6 need fernando to win now that he’s had his good luck hug 

yn_ln just posted

liked by jensonbutton, lance_stroll and others

yn_ln back on track for the twins. both my boys did a wonderful job with high position finishes… oh and they were visited by an enthusiastic fan 😉

5,343 comments

fernandoalo_official i’ll be getting you in one of those karts next 

→ yn_ln that’s going to take a lot of convincing, nando 

→ fernandoalo_official i can think of a few ways, mi vida

→ landonorris ew

→ user7 mi vida!! i will never be normal about these two 

aussiegrit how’d he get his hair that tall 

→ astonmartinf1 it’s so full of secrets 

fa_alonsokart calling the boss an enthusiastic fan is such a power move

→ user8 the fact that he let her and didn’t comment on it tho 

lance_stroll they'll be taking his seat soon enough

user9 love how supportive fernando is of his step-sons

→ user10 he literally started a karting school so that he could help their karting careers

→ user11 the dad that stepped up

user1 what’s your favourite fa14 fact? mine is that he fell in love with y/n l/n, realised she had twins and immediately started enacting project alonso 

→ user2 no because the twins were 11 when he met them and now they’re 15 and looking at f3 seats 

user3 this is what i’ve been saying. fernando doesn’t just love y/n, he loves her children just as much, if not more

user4 fernando alonso puts all other step-dads to shame because he is always there for them, no matter how busy his life is

user5 i really need fernando to hurry up and propose because that is his family

→ user6 yes! he needs to make project alonso official by giving them all his last name

→ user7 and then more babies!  

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comments 

user8 why was this the cutest thing said by anyone ever. like those are his boys 

user9 wait, so does this mean he doesn’t want kids?

user10 the way he cut that interviewer off because that his family whether they share blood or not

→ user11 i read it as he didn’t want to talk about it any more because he doesn’t want more kids and maybe he and y/n haven’t talked about it yet 

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yn_ln just posted

liked by kellypiquet, alexandrasaintmleux and others 

yn_ln an empty house for the week makes me realise that i miss hearing about cars 

2,343 comments

user1 aw are the flowers from fernando?

kellypiquet max keeps trying to convince me to get another cat. don’t let him see this

→ maxverstappen1 too late 

user2 wait, why isn’t she spending summer break with nando?

→ user3 because he’s on holiday 

→ user2 without her? 

→ user4 they don’t have to spend every minute together. he’s allowed to have a break 

user5 guys, y/n and fernando don’t follow each other anymore?

→ user6 i thought you were lying but then i checked and it’s true :( 

→ user7 oh that captions hit extra hard

user8 no because her entire life is racing and now that it’s not there, she realises she misses it

→ user9 she misses him

user10 i’m so confused. they were so in love like two weeks ago. what happened?

user11 no because i can’t imagine seeing fernando without y/n

user12 is he still going to support the twins? 

user13 but you were supposed to get married to fernando and have lots of little alonso’s

→ user14 maybe one of them didn’t want that 

→ user15 can’t imagine it being alonso, he thinks the world of the twins

→ user16 true. he does mention them in almost every interview 

user1 when i remembered f2 were racing this weekend, i was so happy because that meant y/n and nando content and then i remembered they’d broken up

→ user2 all the tweets on here are tearing my heart out as well 

user3 they’ve not spoken to each other once today

user4 yes she walked straight past him but there’s clips of her entire face crumpling as soon as she’s past him

→ user5 yes! i saw that. her colleague had to usher her into the garage before she started crying 

user6 the fact that fernando spent the entire time watching her though

→ user7 even when people were talking to him, he was full on staring at her

→ user8 brokenhearted lover boy made no attempts to hide it 

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Baby Fever Angst Series

Love that I mentioned request for Esteban once and I already have 5 requests 😂 I didn't realise there was that much love for Ocon considering I can never find any fics for him

tag list

[rafecameronssl4t]

Just like his dad || dad!Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: inspired by this tiktok!!

Wc: 613

Warnings: boob obsessed Rafe hehehhehe

A/n: oh hey guys…. I’ve been here but just took a little break and worked on my other blog @bennyboyfics !!!

MASTERLIST (dad!Rafe au masterlist)

“Look who finally decided to show up,” Topper grins, lifting his glass as Rafe turns his head at the sound of his voice. You approach the table, adjusting your grip on your 1 year old old son, Ralph, who’s nestled in your arms, his tiny fingers curled around the fabric of your dress. His cheeks are rosy from the afternoon sun, and his curious blue eyes scan the table before settling on his father.

“Sorry, traffic was insane,” you sigh, pushing your sunglasses up to rest on your head. The heat lingers on your skin, but the sight of Rafe immediately softens the tension in your shoulders. Rafe is already rising from his seat, effortlessly reaching for your handbag and setting it on the table before leaning in to press a lingering kiss to your forehead. His hand finds the back of your chair, pulling it out smoothly as he waits for you to sit.

“I already ordered your favourite,” he murmurs, his voice laced with familiarity, his lips quirking into a small smile as he watches you settle in. Your eyes flicker with appreciation, and in response, you reach for his jaw, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. The stubble there scratches lightly against your lips, and before you can fully pull away, Ralph wriggles in your arms, his hands reaching for his dad.

“Hey, buddy,” Rafe chuckles, easily lifting him onto his lap, his large hands securing the little boy against his chest. Ralph babbles in excitement, gripping onto Rafe’s shirt with tiny fists as Topper leans in, smirking. “Man, he really is your twin,” Topper marvels, running a hand through Ralph’s soft blond hair, which sticks up slightly in the humidity.

Rafe glances down at his son, a look of pride flashing across his face as he watches him curiously take in his surroundings. “Yeah,” he hums, pressing a kiss to the top of Ralph’s head. “Poor kid’s already got my bad habits.” You roll your eyes, nudging Rafe’s knee under the table. “Let’s hope he gets more of my patience, then.” Topper barks out a laugh, shaking his head as Ralph lets out a delighted giggle.

As lunch winds down, you grab your handbag, slipping the strap over your shoulder while adjusting Ralph in your arms. His weight is familiar, comforting even, as he nestles against you, his little fingers toying with the fabric of your dress. “I’m sorry, I have to go, baby,” you tell Rafe, your voice tinged with apology as you brush a stray curl from Ralph’s forehead. “I promised Sarah she could look after him today.”

Rafe nods, reaching for your free hand, his thumb absentmindedly brushing over your wedding ring. The simple touch makes warmth bloom in your chest. “That’s fine,” he murmurs, still twirling the band on your finger. “I’ll be home just after three—” But before he can finish, you feel a sudden, familiar tug—Ralph’s tiny hand sneaking under the neckline of your dress. Your eyes widen in shock as you quickly shift him, but not before Rafe catches sight of his son’s wandering hand.

“Ralph!” you gasp, gently moving his chubby fingers away as he bursts into giggles, completely unbothered. Topper, who had been sipping the last of his drink, nearly chokes as he erupts into laughter, shaking his head. Rafe, on the other hand, simply smirks, tilting his head at you with amusement dancing in his blue eyes. “Like father, like son, huh?” he teases, his smirk deepening when you give him a look of disbelief, though the smile tugging at your lips betrays you.

“Unbelievable,” you mutter, shaking your head before leaning in to give him one final kiss. His lips linger against yours just a second longer than necessary, as if he’s reluctant to let you go. “I’m leaving,” you announce, shifting Ralph on your hip as you turn away. But as you walk off, you can still hear Topper laughing behind you, his cackling voice carrying over the chatter of the restaurant.

[spaceyaemonds]

pairing: dr. jack abbot x reader

sum.: you and dr. abbot have a lot to discuss, and this is just the beginning.

warnings: age gap (jack is late 40s, reader is 23), unexpected pregnancy, smut mentioned, jack is divorced, maybe angst?? MDNI

notes: i am not 100% pleased with this, but this is mostly a filler chapter(if we want to even call it that lol). things will ramp up in the next part!!! unedited. any feedback is extremely appreciated, especially reblogs/asks!

wc: 1.3k

prev next

Jack, no, Dr. Abbot, snaps out of his gaze quickly, seemingly taken over by a routine drilled into him as he quickly puts a hand on your head and checks your pupils' response to his pen light.

“Your nose was bleeding?” His tone is not what you expected. Not that you expected him to be harsh, but there’s something else there. Tenderness.

“Um, yeah. But it stopped on the way here,” Your brow is furrowed, and he has to refrain from smoothing it out with his thumb.

You’re not the only one who’s shocked, Dr. Mohan is standing there, mouth agape, unsure what to say or think.

“If I had to guess, it’s from the fall and not related to any internal head injuries.” He turns to Dr. Mohan, “I’ll call CT and get a rush on it. Go ahead and get her down there,”

“Of course,” She may be in shock, but she still has to do what’s best for her patient.

He turns back to you, hand still on your head, “As soon as we have the results, Dr. Mohan or I will be in to give you the prognosis,”

He doesn’t linger, he doesn’t have the time. He’s gone as quickly as he came.

You wish you had time to think about his behavior just now, but you’re still stuck on the fact that you’re apparently pregnant.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Jack feels like he might throw up. Or have a stroke. Maybe both.

Fucking pregnant? A pregnant twenty-three year old. Who is eight weeks pregnant. Who he slept with eight weeks ago.

What the actual fuck.

You also apparently may have a concussion, but unfortunately that is the least of his worries.

He’s starting to regret not just getting a vasectomy years ago after his divorce.

Surely, surely it’s not his, right? It can’t be. The timing just has to be off. There is no fucking way he knocked up a twenty-three year old.

He racks his brain, trying to remember if he used a condom any of the times he fucked you that night, knowing damn well he didn’t.

He also didn’t bother to ask you if you were on birth control before taking it upon himself to cum inside you, multiple times at that.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Pacing in the break room, he begrudgingly pulls his phone out to see if Robby can come in and cover him so he can try to deal with this situation.

Dr. Mohan has you back to your room fairly quickly.

“Like Dr. Abbot said, when we have the results, someone will come tell you. In the meantime, do you need anything?”

You’re still in shock, and your head is killing you, “No, I don’t think so,”

She smiles softly at you, “Let me know if you need anything,”

As she goes to walk away, she stops, “Oh! I almost forgot,” turning back to you, she reaches into her pocket, “here!”

It’s a picture of the sonogram.

You don’t listen to whatever she says as she walks out the door. All you can do is stare at your tiny baby.

You need to call your mom. She’ll know what to say.

Robby gets to the hospital right as Samira approaches Jack with your CT results.

“Everything looks good, I don’t see a reason to keep her for monitoring. I may prescribe some prenatals, until she can get to her gynecologist,”

Abbot doesn’t look up from your results, “I’ll take care of all that. Go ahead and take your next patient.”

She looks confused, “You’re finishing up with my patient?”

Again, he doesn’t look up, “Yep. I’m also heading out early. Robby will be in charge the rest of the evening,”

He closes the chart and turns to go fill Robby in on the evening before she can say anything else.

“Thanks for doin’ this, man. I really owe you one,”

Robby just gives him a skeptical look, taking all the charts he was handed, “I don’t mind, brother. You sounded a little, off, on the phone. Is everything okay?”

Jack huffs out a laugh, “Yeah, just trying to figure out if I am about to regret not getting a vasectomy after my divorce, is all.”

Robby laughs, assuming it’s a joke, so Jack laughs lightly with him, “I’m gonna wrap up with the patient in North 12, and then I’ll be out of here,”

Robby just nods and walks to the nurses station to get any additional information he might need from the charge nurse on duty.

Abbot makes a beeline for your room, coming in so quickly he startles you.

“Okay, sorry it took so long, but everything appears to be relatively normal. Like I said, the nosebleed was probably caused by the force of the fall, and while you do have a minor concussion, but I don’t see a reason to keep you any longer for monitoring,”

You bite back a scoff, now that you’re alone he won’t even look at you, “Great, thanks. Can I leave now then?”

“Yep. Go ahead and get changed. I’ll wait outside for you,”

Your head moves so quickly it makes you nauseous, “Wait outside? For me?”

Finally, he looks at you. He looks exhausted.

“Yeah? You need a ride home, don’t you?”

You scoff, “Yeah. Not from you,”

He just gives you a look, clearly not in the mood to argue.

“I think you and I have a couple things we need to talk about,”

The tenderness is back in his gaze and it makes you lower your guard, “Okay,”

He waits by the doors while you gather your things and quickly takes you to the employee parking garage.

You bite your tongue to refrain from asking if he’s embarrassed of you.

He takes you to his house, telling you that it’ll probably be best to get the talking out of the way.

We didn’t do much talking last time we were at your house, is the only thing you tell him. Your stomach warms when he lets out a laugh.

Maybe this won’t be so bad.

Neither of you have spoken in the 12 minutes you’ve been sitting on his couch.

All you can think about is the fact that last time you were on this couch you were straddling his face as his tongue fucked your cunt deeper than it ever had been before.

You blush at the thought.

He clears his throat, shifting awkwardly, “Don’t, uh, don’t hate me for asking this, but I have to ask.”

You look at him, one eyebrow raised in a way that tells him to continue.

“Is it mine?”

You try really hard to not let your offense show, and rationally, you know you can’t blame him.

You take a deep breath, “I haven’t had a one night stand since I was nineteen. And I’ve been single for about eight months, so yes,”

He sighs, running a hand over his face and slouching into the couch.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

He looks at you, exhaustion among about a million other feelings really creeping in at just how young you look.

“Do you want to keep it?”

You hesitate, biting your lip so hard he reaches over to pull it from your teeth, “I, I don’t know. Do you? Want it?”

You watch as Jack takes a deep breath before sitting back up and facing you fully.

“I got a divorce in my early thirties. She wanted kids. I didn’t. I’ve never,” He winces, trying to form the right words as he sighs again.

“I’ve never wanted kids. And I’m old now,”

He watches you watch him, understanding in your eyes.

“But if this is what you want, then I’m not going to-“ He chokes on his words as he looks at you, “I won’t abandon you,”

Jack isn’t sure what it is about you that has him thinking this, but something in your eyes when you look at him makes him wonder if your kid will ever look at him with those same eyes.

[nondelphic]

the five stages of grief: writer's edition

denial: "this draft is amazing. no need for edits. it’s practically perfect as is." you’re so confident that you close the document for the day, smiling like you’ve just discovered the next great american novel (or swedish, or british, whatever). plot hole? who is she?

anger: "why did i ever think this was good? this is garbage. i am garbage. my characters are flat, my dialogue is cringe, and my prose sounds like a robot swallowed a thesaurus and threw up on the page." rage-quit the doc and go aggressively scroll pinterest for "writing inspiration" that you will never use.

bargaining: "if i fix this one scene, the whole thing will click into place. i just need to write one more subplot, maybe five more chapters, a quick rewrite of the entire ending, and then it'll be fine. totally manageable." queue up 17 youtube videos on "how to fix your plot" that you play in the background while staring at your ceiling.

depression: "i will never finish this book. it’s doomed. i’m doomed. why do i even write? who let me have ideas?!" lay dramatically on your bed, considering taking up knitting or rock collecting instead. cry a little over how your characters deserve a better writer.

acceptance: "this is the best i can do right now, and that’s okay. i’ll take a break, come back with fresh eyes, and remember why i love this stupid, broken story." suddenly, your MC whispers something brilliant, and you're like wait… maybe i'm a genius after all.

and the cycle begins again. writing is a joy.

[bloomseishiro]

IT’S IMPOSSIBLE TO IGNORE YOU  — ITOSHI RIN

౨ৎ — during your first year, one of your friends gets rejected by itoshi rin. during your second year, another one falls victim to the same fate. the same happens this year, your current and final year of high school. is the new saying fourth time's a charm? 

itoshi rin x fem!reader. fluff, crushes :3, high school au/no blue lock au, rin got big bro issues (duh), the slightest bit of i can fix him vibes ok sue me, reader and rin are both 3rd years

word count. 4.0k 

Itoshi Rin is an egotistical asshole. 

At least, that’s what runs through your mind as you have to comfort yet another crying friend. 

“Does he really h-hate me that much?” sniffles Akemi, blowing her nose on a tissue you gave her. “He wouldn’t even let me f-finish saying my confession.” 

“He interrupted your confession?” you repeat with indignation, though you reminded yourself you shouldn’t be surprised. Just last year, your friend Emi was rejected by Itoshi Rin. And the year before that, he rejected your friend Hana. Both were left in a similar amount of snot and tears. 

There are only three years of high school, yet Itoshi succeeded in breaking three of your friends’ hearts in such a short amount of time! 

Total asshole status. 

Akemi sighs, resting her head against your shoulder. “I shouldn’t have expected anything different, huh? Even this past Valentine’s Day, he rejected so many chocolates from so many pretty girls. I don’t know what I was thinking. He’d never like someone like me.”

“Hey!” you chide, wagging your finger at her. “Don’t say that! Itoshi is an idiot for not liking you. He doesn’t know what he’s missing.”

She rubs her eyes wearily, exhaling loudly as she wipes her stray tears away. “I know you’re right, but it’s just not fair. Why does he have to be so cute and perfect?”

“He’s not,” you snort. “Perfect, that is.”

Even you couldn’t deny that Itoshi was attractive, though you would never admit that to Akemi. 

She shoots you a sideways glance, raising her brow in disbelief. “Now, that’s just a lie.”

“It’s not! I had math class with him last year. He was always at the bottom of the class for tests.” 

“So he isn’t the best with his studies. That doesn’t mean he’s not perfect!” 

You groan, throwing your head back dramatically. Is being totally delusional about Itoshi Rin a criterion for liking him?

“Fawning over your crush is no way to get over him,” you say matter-of-factly. “You know what does help? Eating your lunch. Look, you haven’t even touched the food on your tray!” 

“How can I possibly eat when my heart is in disarray?” whines Akemi, sticking her tongue out at you to let you know she’s only joking. 

You shake your head with a laugh, glad she is beginning to feel better. 

“I know I’ll get over it,” she promises, a downcast look on her face as she takes a bite of rice. 

“You will,” you assure her, finishing up your meal as well. “After food, the second best way to get over heartbreak is to find a new guy to obsess over! How about that guy?” 

“Too short.”

“Him?” you point at a second year who just walked into the cafeteria. 

Akemi makes a face. “I don’t like younger guys.”

“Even if they are just one year younger?” you ask incredulously. 

“Nope.” 

You get a feeling finding another guy for her to crush on may be harder than you thought. Instead of hunting for more cute boys, you resign yourself and say, “Someone will come around.” 

“Not soon enough,” she groans, but humors you nonetheless. “I have to get to my next lesson now. Science. Gross. Thank you for helping me feel better.” 

“Anytime!” you chirp, waving goodbye as she leaves the table. “It’s no biggie.”

After all, this isn’t your first rodeo. You have had plenty of practice comforting Itoshi’s unfortunate victims. By plenty, you mean two times before, but even that is already two too many times. 

The rest of your classes go by in a blur, and after attending your club meeting, you head over to the nearby train station to begin your commute home. 

You find a spot on the train near an exit and hold on to the railing above you. Over the years, you’ve learned not to bother racing for a spot on a seat. You would never secure one in the first place, and the few times you did, there was always an elderly person looking at you, subtly glaring until you gave the seat up to them. Standing by the exit is easier, anyway. And at least it forces you to work on your core strength. 

As the train begins to move along the tracks, you begin to zone out, eyes wandering around the coach to see if anything out of the ordinary is going on. Discrete people watching has always been one of your favorite ways to pass time. 

From the corner of your eye, you spot a familiar face on a nearby seat. 

Your lip curls. Itoshi. 

“Of course he got a seat,” you mutter under your breath. 

As if he knows you’re thinking about him, Itoshi’s gaze darts over to you. Your eyes lock together and you’re immediately mortified about being caught. Without explanation, you tear yourself away and face the other side of the train. 

You decide to simply ignore him and pretend that didn’t happen. It wasn’t like he was someone who would approach you or expect you to make conversation with him, anyway.  

After avoiding that potential nuisance, the remainder of your train ride goes by smoothly. The buildings from outside melt together in a blur of grey as the constant vibrations of the train hum through you. 

It’s a comforting sensation. Despite all the bodies on the train, you can still feel a sense of peace as you focus on the ride.

Unfortunately for you, the peace is shattered when a random stranger approaches as the train begins to slow down.

His eyes are wide and he looks slightly confused as he asks you something in a language you cannot understand. 

You blink, lifting your hands in an “I don’t know” movement. With his khaki shorts and floral shirt, you have to assume this man is a tourist. 

He makes the motion of eating food and points at the exit questioningly, mouthing short phrases to help you comprehend better. Alas, you aren’t very good at charades.

“I’m so sorry, but…” you try saying slowly.

The tourist interrupts with more English and it sounds like a warble in your ears. 

At a complete loss, you look frantically around the train. There has to be someone—anyone—here who knows at least some of what he is saying. You manage to lock eyes with a middle-aged lady who shrugs at you apologetically.

“I don’t know English,” she mouths and you nod in resignation. 

Just as you are about to lose all hope, you feel a looming presence behind you. You swiftly glance back and see Itoshi approaching you and the tourist. His eyes barely flit over yours before he directs his attention to the man in front of you.

They begin speaking for a short while, both in English, and the only words you are able to catch is a brief “thank you” at the end. 

Whatever Itoshi told him must have been confirmation enough, since the tourist leaves as soon as the doors open. 

Itoshi lingers behind you even after the situation is resolved.

“Are you still pretending not to see me?” he questions.

Your eyes widen at his accusation and you shake your head in denial. “I’m not pretending to do anything. I just have nothing to say.”

“Not even a ‘thank you’?”

You finally meet his eyes to see a knowing look on his face. Your fingers toy with the hem of your skirt sheepishly, mouth forming a small ‘o’. You were so busy ignoring his presence, you almost forgot your manners. 

“You’re right. Thank you,” you acknowledge. He nods. “What was he asking for?”

“He just wanted to know if this was the closest stop to the downtown food district,” Itoshi explains as if it’s that simple. Because to him, it really is that simple.

You groan to yourself. You should have been able to use his hand gestures as context clues to figure out something as simple as that.

“You didn’t understand any of that conversation?” he asks.

You shake your head.

“Seems like you’re slacking off during English class.”

Your brows furrow as you place your hand on your hip. “At least I’m not flunking all my other classes.”

Itoshi rolls his eyes at you. “I’m not flunking. I don’t have any failing grades. They’re high enough to pass at least. Barely.”

You stifle a laugh.

“You, on the other hand, can’t say the same,” he says with a small smirk. “I heard the teacher talking to you after class the other day. Something about recommending you get a tutor before the next exam?” 

Your cheeks burn in embarrassment and you let out a huff. All of your grades are amazing. Expect…for that one measly subject called English. 

“How do you even know about that?” you demand, folding your arms over your chest.

Itoshi raises his brow. “Because I was there.”

You give him a blank stare.

“Seriously?” he says, voice deadpan. “I’m in the same English class as you this year.”

“Oh,” you murmur, feeling the slightest bit guilty for not noticing. In your defense, you didn’t notice much in that class to begin with. “So, maybe I do slack off during English. But that class is right after lunch and I’m so sleepy! I kinda just mentally check out the moment I step inside.”

“I can tell.”

You throw him a glare but can’t refute. “Let’s go back to talking about your bad grades instead…”

Itoshi shrugs dismissively. “It’s not like I care about those classes. They’re not important for practical usage. When will we ever need to know the quadratic formula in real life? But English, as you could see just now, obviously is important.”

“But it’s hard,” you whine.

“Maybe if you paid attention it wouldn’t be.”

You whack his arm with the sleeve of your sweater, half-hearted enough so there is no actual blow, but you figure Itoshi would get the message. 

He snorts. “Ouch. I’ve never felt more pain in my life.”

“Shut up.” 

The two of you exchanged glares 

“What are you even doing here, Itoshi? I always take this train and I’ve never seen you board with me.”

“Just Rin is fine,” he almost hisses, face growing dark hearing his surname. 

You give him a sideways glance. What’s up with this guy? “Um, you want me to call you by your first name?” 

“Yes, but not for whatever weird reason you’re thinking,” he says with an eye roll. “I don’t consider you close or a friend. I just don’t like being called by my last name.” 

Your brow raises, but you don’t push him for more information. It’s not your place to. Nor do you care enough to. This is the guy who broke three of your friends’ hearts! You shouldn’t even be having this long of a conversation with him in the first place. 

“Okay. Rin, then,” you correct yourself.

Rin nods. “Yeah. And I normally take this way home, just at a later hour. I stay late to practice more soccer.” 

“You decided not to practice today?” you ask, tilting your head in question. Everyone in school knows Itoshi Rin is the best soccer player on your highschool’s team. That, along with his annoyingly handsome looks, is what makes him so popular in the first place. “That’s surprising. Why not?”

“Don’t want to talk about it,” he dismisses, ignoring all your questions. 

You blink, wondering how so many girls were entranced by this man who can’t even hold a decent conversation. “Alright, then.” 

Rin pulls out his phone as the silence lulls over the two of you. He browses around for a while before pocketing his device and looking back at you.

“Yes?” you prompt. 

“That girl earlier today was your friend, right?” His voice is awkward as he rubs the back of his neck. “I saw her talking to you in the cafeteria.” 

“You saw her sobbing onto my shoulder, you mean?” you say dryly. “Yeah, she’s my friend. Her name is Akemi.” 

He nods, but he doesn’t look pleased. “Tell her to stop crying over me. There are no hard feelings, alright? I just don’t care to have any sort of relationship in the near future.” 

“Well, do you explain that?” you ask with a bite. “To the girls you reject?” 

Rin blows air out of his nose in annoyance, closing his eyes. “Well, obviously. I tell them I’m not interested in relationships. But then they still want to give their speech on why they like me and I don’t want to hear it. I don’t even know them most of the time. It’s uncomfortable.” 

While a part of you sympathizes with him—after all, it must feel awkward to have people you barely know confess their hearts to you—a bigger part of you still feels indignation for those who get rejected.

“It’s also uncomfortable to confess to someone, you know?” you chide, but your gaze softens as you continue. “They put themselves out there, not knowing what will happen in return, and the least you can do is let them down gently.” 

“What good is false hope?” he scoffs, shaking his head bitterly. “It’s better to be direct and sharp. No point in sugarcoating things. I’ve learned that the hard way. So can they.”

You frown, looking up as the train comes to a slow stop once more. “Do you really believe that?” 

Rin doesn’t reply.

You sigh, shaking your head softly. There is no way you would be able to understand him in one train ride. Or maybe even ever. “You don’t need to sugarcoat anything, but it doesn’t take much to be kind to people. Or to show people basic human respect. Like you showed that tourist earlier. And me earlier. It was nice of you to step in.”

“Whatever.” 

You make a face, trying not to roll your eyes at his shortness. You tried to be helpful and gave him a little encouraging speech, all for him to simply not care? He really is an asshole, after all.

“Whatever yourself, Rin,” you remark snippily, gathering your belongings and heading towards the exit. “This is my stop so, bye, I guess.” 

He hesitates before walking out after you. “I’m not following you, alright? I get off here, too.” 

“Hooray for me,” you sarcastically say under your breath. 

You and Rin maneuver your way through the crowded station in silence. It isn’t a comfortable silence, but it isn’t exactly awkward either. The two of you just…existed, acutely aware of the other’s presence.

He’s certainly easier to be around when he isn’t talking, you determine. 

“How close are you to failing English?” he suddenly says, immediately affirming your belief that Itoshi Rin is better silent. 

“Did you have to remind me about that?” you groan, letting out a heavy sigh. “But to answer your question, very close.  As in, fail one more big exam and I have to repeat the class, close.” 

He whistles in disbelief. “Sucks.” 

You remain straight-faced. “Thanks for the encouragement, Rin.” 

“Am I supposed to encourage you?” he asks with a raised eyebrow. Shaking his head, he sarcastically continues, “Study hard, you can do it!”

You grimace at the forced cheer in his voice. Even he looks disgusted with himself after saying that.  Squeezing your eyes shut, you try not to gag internally. “Ew. No. Please, no. Never do that again.” 

Rin snorts, but you sense a hint of amusement on his expression. “See? Being encouraging and nice and gentle is not for me.” 

“Not if you fake it like that!” you say, looking both ways before you cross the street with Rin in tow. “People will feel if you are genuine.” 

“Sure, they will.”

“They will,” you insist, shrugging off his negativity. “Try it someday, maybe.”

“Maybe if someone’s actually worth my time,” he scoffs, and you could see just how big his head really is. 

Wow, this guy really is an egotistical asshole. 

“For everyone’s sake, I hope you find someone you think is worth your time. Maybe then you’d stop being such a sourpuss!” 

“Sourpuss? What are you, a grandma?”

“Obviously not,” you retort, throwing your hands up exasperatedly, “because if I were, I’d be your elder,  then you’d have to respect me.”

Rin huffs at your dramatics. “Alright, calm down, grandma.”

Your eye twitches.

“If you fail English, will you have to stay for summer school? It’s our last year. When else are you supposed to repeat it?” 

You nod miserably. “I try not to think about it,” you sigh. “Our teacher is nice though. She said she will let me retake my past exams before the year ends and use those grades instead.”

“So all you have to do is retake all the previous tests and ace them? Easy.”

“Easy for you!” you cry, jutting your lower lip out. “You’re the top of the class! And even your accent sounds good. How unfair.”

Rin snorts at the begrudging praise. The only time you would compliment him is when it’s about his English skills. 

When the two of you reach the next intersection, you finally begin to walk opposite ways. You become confused for a moment, you’ve gotten so used to him walking beside you, you forgot he actually is on his way home and not there to accompany you to your place. 

“My house is down this way,” you state, pointing left. “I guess this is where we say goodbye?”

He nods, but before fully turning away, he says, “Do you want help?” 

“Huh?”

“With English.” Rin rolls his eyes. “What else?”

You meet his gaze slowly and cautiously, eyes narrowing. “Yes, I want help. I don’t want to fail. Why?” 

“I’m busy with soccer most days after school, but I can tutor you during lunch. And some weekends.” 

Your eyes narrow even more. Suspicious doesn’t even begin to describe how you are feeling. Rin is offering to help you? There’s no way.  

“No…” you trail off with uncertainty. “No thanks.” 

“No?” he repeats, looking at you as if you’re an idiot. Which, maybe you are. 

“No, of course not! I can’t!” you cry in disbelief. “Three of my friends have been heartbroken by you. What would they think if they saw you tutoring me?” 

“Let me guess. Maybe, ‘Good job Y/N for getting help on English from the best English speaker in the grade?”

“Nope.” 

Rin scowls. 

“Well, maybe,” you relent. It has been a while since they had a crush on him, other than Akemi, of course. Feelings of rejection and resentment should fade with time… You hope. “I know they want me to pass the class.”

“Your best chance is standing right in front of you,” he supplies nonchalantly. “The deal’s off the table tomorrow. I think I filled my kindness quota for the rest of the school year by just offering.” 

You glare at him. A quota is just ridiculous. “That’s not how it works and you know it. But…okay.” 

He waits for you to elaborate, foot impatiently tapping the sidewalk. 

Taking a deep breath, you blurt out, “I’ll accept your offer. Please, tutor me, Rin. I don’t want to fail this stupid class!”

You recall the look of relief on the tourist’s face once Rin stepped in. Rin himself didn’t even look like he was struggling to understand the man. His other grades may be subpar, but his English truly is amazing. 

He shrugs dismissively as you finally agree to take on his offer. “You won’t fail with my help. Smart choice.”

“I hope you’re right,” you sigh, not allowing yourself to feel too optimistic yet. You would need to see an improvement in your test score before you would celebrate. “Thank you, Rin.”

“Sure.” 

“Still… I need to ask,” you begin, still feeling cautious. “What is it that you want in return?”

Rin gives you a blank stare. “Nothing?”

You give him an incredulous look. “You’re going to help tutor me with nothing in return? Are you sure? You don’t want me to tutor you in other subjects? I’m good at history and math and science!”

“No, I don’t care about them. They’re useless to me.”

You scrunch your nose as he disses your more favored subjects. Math, you could agree feels pretty useless. But science certainly isn’t! You use it everyday when you do something simple like cooking an egg. And history is even more important to learn about the world and where you’re from.

“If not tutoring, then what else do you want?”

His eyebrow shoots up as he exhales loudly. “Do you want to offer me something?” 

You fold your arms over your chest. “Not exactly, no. But if you don’t want something in return, why are you offering to tutor me? Why are you being…nice?”

Rin’s gaze locks onto yours and you find yourself holding your breath as you await a response. 

After five long beats of silence, he simply says, “Maybe I think you’re someone worth my time.” 

Your eyes widen at his words, trying to interpret it in every possible way. Is he being sarcastic? Is he serious? Is he flirting? Your brain whirs a million possibilities and you feel like your head is spinning. 

As if he senses your cogs turning in overdrive, Rin gives your forehead a light flick, snapping you out of your thoughts. “Stop overthinking, grandma.”

“Hey!” You blink, rubbing the middle of your forehead. 

He looks at you expectantly. 

You sigh. “Okay, no overthinking, then. I guess I’ll just say thank you for taking the time to help me.”

“I haven’t helped you yet,” he says, waving a hand. dismissively. “You can say thanks once you pass your next English exam.”

For the first time, you feel yourself smiling at him. It turns out Rin, for reasons unbeknownst to you, really is serious about you passing the class. 

Maybe you were wrong about him. 

He is egotistical. And he is an asshole. But not all the time. There’s a strangely kind and unexpectedly caring side to him you haven’t witnessed before this. But it feels…good. You know it’s in him. And you want to help Rin bring it out of himself, again and again and again. 

“It’s getting late now, so I’ll let you go,” you say in farewell. “But thank you again for offering to tutor me. See, Rin, this means you can be nice!”

“Only if I want to be,” he scoffs, but you catch the corner of his lip lifting upwards. “Goodnight, then. Meet me at the library tomorrow? We can start your tutoring sessions then.”

“I’ll be there!” you chirp, bouncing on the balls of your feet. “Goodnight.”

You begin the rest of your walk home with your head still spinning. The road ahead is long and endless. For a moment, you stop in your tracks and chance a glance behind you. Slowly, you turn and find Rin is already looking back at you, his expression completely disarmed. 

Your eyes meet with a look of shared surprise before you both spin back around at superhuman speed. A giggle of disbelief escapes you at the strange coincidence. Why did you both look back? At each other, no less. And why did he have that sort of expression on his face?

The thud of your heart beats faster in your chest as hopeful confusion overtakes you. Is Rin feeling the same thing? you wonder. You’re not even sure what feeling this is yourself, exactly. 

You sigh to yourself, body buzzing and brain feeling like total mush. And yet, you realize you kind of  enjoy this unfamiliar feeling. 

All this adrenaline for a guy who is a serial rejector and only thinks some people are worth his time? You laugh at the audacity. 

What is Rin doing to you? 

You shake your head. Whatever it is, you know you owe it to yourself to jump in, head first, and welcome it with open arms.

[darkstaria]

Yandere Batfam - Soulmate Soul Animal Au.

Chapter 7:

Summary: Your escape from Joker doesn't go unnoticed, and you bear the consequences of attracting the attention of the bats.

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6.

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Burning green blinded him, searing his veins and twisting. His very breath was strained, broken and turning into what he could only describe as boiling rage.

He did the only thing he could do.

Murder the clown.

Strike after strike bore down upon the clown’s heaving body, his guns left behind on the floor, long forgotten. Any little trick up the clown's sleeve was swiftly discarded by Jason’s primal force.

The clown’s leg was held in his gloved hands, he twisted, pulling and pulling until there was an abrupt snap. The other leg was subject to the whims of his iron toe boots, breaking under the pressure.

He itched and burned to do more, fists turning into a flurry of blows upon the now unconscious clown. The clown could still cry out in pain, and that satisfied him.

Jason kept going, but it wasn't enough. It would never be enough, not until he wrapped his hands around and squeezed and squeezed and squeezed and the clown finally popped.

Jason let out a breath, hands forming into an instinctive fist and aimed, until hands wrapped around his arms to pull him back.

He struggled, trying to jab out with his elbow to no avail. A voice interrupted the Green, calling out to him.

“Jason! Jason, come on!” The voice called out, demanding and desperate and somehow just enough for him to break through.

“Steph…?” He mumbled, regaining focus of the world around him. There was blood on his gloves.. his boots too. 

The clown as if a train had run him over- several times. Every part of his face was bruised, green, purple and black. His limbs were in no better shape, twisted and broken into pieces that seemed like agony for doctors to put back together.

He didn't envy Joker’s recovery period.

“Shit..” Batgirl muttered, at his side. “Batman won't be happy about this.” 

“Fuck Batman.” Was his instinctive response.

“Indeed..” She replied. “Well… I’ll take him back to Arkham, or actually, to the nearest doctor that won’t try to finish him off. Cass?”

A sudden movement in the shadow (that definitely didn't make Jason jump) revealed Cass, as she walked closer, a golden cage in one of her hands and Jason’s soul form in the other.

“Hurt.” Cass stated, pointing down at his soul form. Jason whistled, looking at the damage. 

His soul form had always been a durable little thing, no doubt a result of his own upbringing, but this amount of damage was definitely rare. The bird’s wings were twisted, a sign that they were broken, and its breaths were slightly ragged, indicating some internal injuries.

It’d be alright, ultimately. Soul animals healed much faster than humans, as a result of them being magic. 

He was mostly just glad he had bond distancing training, feeling those injuries wouldn't be fun at all. There was a dull pain in his back already, no doubt a result of his soul form’s injuries.

He sighed, kicking at the clown a bit as he did so. “Well that’s a problem.” 

“Your soul animal shouldn't be out of the cave Hood, how did it get here?” Batgirl spoke, turning to look at Orphan, as the hero unlocked the cage a bat was glooming in.

“And how did Bats get here either? Out of all of us, he's had the best training, his soul animal should know the most about how important it is to our identities for them to not leave.” Batgirl frowned, confusion painted on her face.

Batman’s soul animal flitted up to rest on Orphan’s shoulder, a vision of silent solitude. Orphan gave it a little scritch on its ears.

Jason paused, considering how to word what he was about to say. The Green had mostly cleared up, but it still fogged him a little, especially as he thought of the scene he witnessed.

“There was a civilian, Joker’s victim. Tied to a chair and about to be smashed on the head by a crowbar. My soul animal appeared and took the hit.” He stuck to the facts, they were wasting too much time as is. Damn, if not for the pit rage he could have found them by now!

Batgirl gasped. Orphan shifted a little. “Wait, do you think..?” Batgirl struggled to voice the question, knowing how much it meant to them all.

“Yes.” Jason answered, blunt. “That was our soulmate.”

Abrupt movement from the window interrupted their shock, as Red Robin swooped in with a brisk move. 

“Hey.” Red Robin called out, taking in their depressed faces. He paused. “What happened?”

—-

You were not having a good night. Your head hurt, your feet ached, and you would basically give anything at this point to get back home and collapse on your bed. Nothing had gone the way you had hoped for. In fact, it was now the absolute worst case scenario, other than being dead.

Now you have been exposed to two of your soulmates, potentially all of them now if they were feeling like sharing that information.

Oh and of course, you couldn't forget the Joker. Your newly acquired head injury certainly wouldn't be forgetting about it anytime soon.

You groaned, the world before you turning into brief spinning fuzz, as you trudged on. 

“Why me…” You muttered, narrowly avoiding stepping in some rain water. You walked through an alleyway, vaguely guessing the direction of your house. In all honesty, you had barely the slightest inkling of where you were at this point, but you had to try.

The shadows behind you stirred, and you whipped around, making eye contact with one of your worst nightmares. Nightwing.

You shifted backwards, aiming to run away, but he caught onto the fleeing posture of your stance.

“Hey! Hey, calm down.” He spoke reassuringly, as if he was talking to a scared citizen. “I'm not going to hurt you. The inmates of Arkham Asylum have broken out, and it's not safe to be roaming the streets right now.”

He smiled, a charming little gesture, and held a hand out to you. “I can take you home, you'll be safer indoors.”

You shook your head, words failing to escape in your fear of this new problem.

He frowned. “I’m sorry but, I'm going to have to insist. It's really not safe. I’d hate for you to get hurt.” He perked up a little as he spoke the next few words. “Are you injured? I know someone who can help, her name is Leslie, she's a very safe doctor. Or if you don't have anywhere to go, I can escort you to a safe place?”

You shook your head desperately. You wanted nothing more than to get away. Your legs were shaking.

Any further time spent in the presence of your soulmates was a risk. At any point one of them could tell him and you'd be doomed. Hell, he might already know!  

“I… I want to leave.” The words tumbled out, clumsy. “But not with you.”

The smile stayed on his face this time, plastered on. “It won’t be an inconvenience-” He tried.

“Please leave me alone.”

“It's really unsaf-”.

“Please leave me alone.”

“It will only take five-”.

“I said LEAVE ME ALONE!” You screamed, frustration and agony eclipsing into a fearful shout. You regretted it immediately, as it echoed through the streets. Tears welled up in your eyes. Your breath ran short.

Nightwing stood there, finally looking unsure. A part of you reveled in it, finally seeing how you always felt around them reflected on their form.

A fluttering sound broke the uncomfortable silence, a little robin flying down onto Nightwing’s shoulder.

“Robin..?” He muttered, more to himself than you. “Why are you here?”.

You meant to take the opportunity for what it was, to turn and run while you had the chance, but beady eyes turned towards you at the first movement you made.

Robin fluttered towards you, landing on your trembling hand. It gave a little coo, tilting its head a bit to stare at you. It seemed like it noticed your anxiety. It was admittedly a very cute gesture, something that acted like a balm to your scratched and raw mental state, but it didn't last for long.

“Wait…”. 

Your blood froze in your veins. Everything stopped.

“Are… are you…?”

You couldn't respond to his question. Your head spun, an undercurrent of anxiety questioning every option you could make. Your shakes increased. It was noticeable.

“Ah, hey!” It seemed he spotted it. “Don’t worry so much, I know you're so terrified because of what's going on, but now I know I can keep you safe.” His hands grabbed yours, a constricting grip. You tried to take a step back, but he kept you there, not budging from his grasp. Robin shifted a little in displeasure.

“We… can keep you safe.” His eyes beamed into yours, trying to convey a feeling of safety, of reassurance.

You were numb to everything but terror.

“I've told you this once.” You muttered. “And I didn't want to say it again.” You ripped his hands from yours, pushing him away. You grabbed Robin.

“JUST LEAVE ME ALONE ALREADY!” You screamed, primal agony laced in your tone, your last efforts giving out.

Then, in a moment of desperation, you grabbed Robin, your littlest soul animal. And you threw him at Nightwing’s face.

His startled scream was music to your ears, as you raced out of the alleyway and down the street. If you were lucky, maybe Robin would be startled enough to give him a few scratches.

Things were finally, finally looking up. It had taken a lot. Gosh, it has taken so much from you. You couldn't go home anymore, both vigilante and villain now knew your name, but at the very least…

You could escape.

It was a mantra you chanted to yourself.

“I can escape. I can escape. I can escape.”

It remained in your brain as you ducked under windows and hid behind cars.

I can escape I can escape I can escape.

A slip of blue in the shadows was your only warning, before cruel pain pierced your arm. 

“Ack!” You clutched at it, noticing what could only be a dart now embedded in you. You ripped it out as you ran, hoping that would be it.

IcanescapeIcanescapeIcanescape-

The world started falling to pieces before your very eyes, a black void stealing the places of buildings, cars, wherever you looked.

Your rush turned into a stumble.

Escape-escape-escape-

You were limping through an alleyway when your limbs finally gave up on you. The adrenaline finally losing to the tranquiliser.

“Escape…” You mumbled.

You glanced up.

A dark shadow was the only thing you could see. A giant figure, clad in a long cape.

A resentful part of you thought that the cape would be a rather warm thing to snuggle up to.

A hand reached out from the darkness.

You passed out.

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Happy Halloween!!

Hope everyone enjoyed the chapter! Actually, there won't be too many chapters left now, we're coming to the end of Reader's struggle. Ofc, I will be going extra's that aren't actual chapters, and they'll have some extra details that are excluded from Reader's pov.

Also, I definitely have to apologise for how long this one took. I do have my reasons! Had an ear infection, then a holiday (that was pretty neat actually) and currently I have COVID lol. So I was a bit busy there.

But Halloween deserves to be celebrated just as much as everyone deserves another chapter, so here you go!

It is a bit of a shame I won't be able to make an actual Halloween piece. Maybe I'll make something a few days after Halloween? How do people feel about a coraline inspired DC oneshot?

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Tumblr just told me I can't tag anyone else, so the list ends here. I'll add the others in a comment!