#and then Mr Happy came along and managed to get him to laugh and smile again

[amazingdeadfish]

DOES ANYONE UNDERSTAND MY VISION

I am calling for a Mr and Little Miss LMK au please I am begging/j

Mr Miserable and Mr Cheeky:

[uhdrienne]

'tis the damn season

🍂 feat: old flame!lee jihoon x actress!reader

🍂 genre: sfw, fluff, angst, exes to lovers, city to town life

🍂 wc: ~8.5k

🍂 summary: an actress yet to make it big in the city, you return to your hometown for christmas for the first time since leaving. seasons have changed, along with life as you know it. jihoon, however, has not, and as you spend the festive season with him this year, you struggle to get past what your life could have been if your decision had been different.

🍂 author's note: merry christmas! nothing like a christmas story to really feel the season <3 there's another note right at the bottom if you'd like to know how the story came about... but meanwhile, enjoy the story and as always, let me know what you think 🎄

T h i s Y e a r

The trees outside the window pass in a blur. Your manager glances at you from the passenger seat, and you notice it from the periphery of your vision.

"You're excited to go home for Christmas, no?"

"I am," You reply, but your voice, try as you might to make it sound enthusiastic in the spirit of the festive holiday, your voice comes out hollow, empty.

Your manager clicks his tongue. "Then try to sound like it. Your parents would not be happy to see how sullen their daughter has become."

"Nothing has happened to me, Ray," You murmur. "I just... going home after so long..."

"That happens to every star I work with," Ray remarks. "Always so jarring for them to go home."

"Other stars, yes," You reply quietly. "I...am not one."

"Not with that attitude, you aren't!" Ray chirps. "You just haven't bloomed yet. Remember the feedback about your role in 'Blacklist'? The papers praised it."

"It was just a cameo, Ray. And it all died down within a week," You remind him, not unkindly, as you are still appreciative that he wanted to compliment you. "I think the agency wouldn't lose out if my contract isn't renewed."

"Nonsense!" Ray declares as the car pulls onto a familiar bridge. Up ahead, you see old thatched roofs, the houses looming larger as you near the village. "I will talk with them, see what auditions we can put you up for. You're talented, just undiscovered."

You chuckle. "Thanks."

"Have a good Christmas break, Y/N," Ray says comfortingly, as the car finally pulls to a stop in front of your front door. "It's the season to be with your family. Don't think about work."

You nod, beginning to clamber out of the car. "You too, Ray. See you in a couple weeks."

As the car finally pulls out of the cobbled path, you gather your belongings about you, and look up at a shout of your name.

"Dad?"

"My dear girl!" Your father enthuses, drawing you into a bone-crushing hug. "Welcome home, sweetie. Oh, you've lost weight, haven't you?"

"Hm? No, not that much," You smile at him. "I'm looking forward to eating my body weight in Mom's food, though."

"She's more excited to have you home," Your father laughs. "You coming home has been all she can talk about nowadays. I think Mrs. Lee and Jihoon have had enough--"

Your blood freezes at the mention of that name. "What?"

"Mrs. Lee and Jihoon, of course."

"O-Of course." You stammer. Thankfully, your dad doesn't pick up on it as he relieves you of your luggage.

Lee Jihoon. Lee Jihoon. Lee Jihoon.

A big oak tree, an old swing, two children perched upon it, side by side.

"I'm gonna go to the big city one day!" The young girl whoops.

"For what?" The boy asked.

"To live! Mom says there are tall buildings and cars and big shops. Wouldn't it be so fun?"

"Sounds boring." The boy yawns.

"I'll bring you along!" The girl says obstinately. "I'll show you how fun it can be."

"Fine," The boy replies, swinging his small feet back and forth. "Let's go together when we grow up."

"Y/N?"

"Hm?"

"Come on! I think your mother's going to freak herself out if we don't start going over."

"Coming!"

"I still don't get what you're doing in that grotty town."

"It's my hometown, Rina."

"Yeah, yeah, I forgot you came from a forest." Your (kind of) friend's voice drawls on the other end. "I'm off, I have a YSL fitting in like twenty minutes. I'll catch you soon if you decide to leave, yeah?"

"Okay, b-" The line beeping cuts you off. You lie back on your bed, massaging your temples.

Your mother had laugh-cried her way into a hug once you made it through the door, lamenting how hard it was to see her star daughter these days. It was all you could do to bite your tongue and avoid correcting her.

You were not a star. Not at all. While your friends in the industry had piles of scripts waiting for their perusal and selection, you simply accepted whatever you got.

You didn't miss the poorly concealed smiles of mock pity directed at you when everyone shared about their recent works at afterparties. But you knew you always did your best at every role you got, no matter how small they were. Yet... there were moments when you wondered if hard work truly surpassed luck and star quality.

Your muddled mind shifts back to the setting in the kitchen as happy voices and laughter drift upstairs. The look on Jihoon's face when you made eye contact for the first time in almost three years stops you in your tracks.

He looked as relaxed and calm as ever, dressed in a comfy-looking sweater and loose pants. Nursing a cup of coffee with his mother in your kitchen where he'd been countless times, he still resembled the young man you'd left behind.

But gone was the softness in his eyes from when you last saw him. Replacing it was a certain coldness, a tough look you couldn't place. That look had only intensified as he took you in, dressed in a thick fleece coat, black pants, and boot heels to match. He had nodded his head to you in greeting, but it had lacked warmth. Understandable, really.

You had flounced upstairs after the necessary greetings, citing a large load of luggage to unpack as your excuse.

A knock on your door makes you flinch. You open it, and pause at the person standing outside. "...Jihoon."

"Your mom says to come down. She says the food's almost ready and you look too thin."

"Right. Right, I'm coming."

He shrugs and then turns away. His footsteps draw away from your room.

You pinch colour into your cheeks, the way you did when things got too hard, and brace yourself.

Jihoon was staying for dinner.

"So tell us what you acted in!" Your mom says cheerfully as she heaps food onto your plate. "I keep wanting to keep up with your shows, but it's strange, I haven't seen them on the main channel. Are they on streaming platforms or something?"

Your face falls slightly. She was right, half right to be precise. Your shows rarely ever made it onto mainstream television. And if they did, your roles were usually so small you'd just appear onscreen once. With that, it was borderline impossible for you to appear on Netflix.

Your dad rolls his eyes. "It's Christmas, dear. We should give her a break. Why, she came home to see all of us! We know how busy she is."

You shoot a grateful glance to your dad, which he returns with a wink as he raises his glass of wine. "Cheers to that."

As everyone at the table raises their glasses to meet in a sweet clinking sound, and your lips meet the rim to drink, you almost forget the way Jihoon's eyes strayed away from his plate to you when your mother brought your job up.

You're about to wash up when your father enters your room.

"Dad!" You smile, slightly buzzed by the wine and the relaxation you felt, now that you were getting used to being home. "What's up?"

I just thought I'd check in on you before we turn in," He opens his arms, and you gladly step into them. He hums as he pats your head. "Are you getting used to being here? I know it's very different from the city, but.."

"I love it, Pop," You interrupt, understanding his worry. "Nothing can really beat home, right?"

"Right," He murmurs, and he coughs to mask up a suspiciously quick sniff. "Right. Well... sleep early. Tomorrow we'll go on a stroll, and see all the stuff you've missed. We can go visit Jihoon, if you want."

"Jihoon?"

"Yeah! He's got a big truck now, helping out with the family courier business... I heard he wanted to go to the city, but he's a good man, staying back here to help his parents."

You steel yourself to ask, "Did he ever say why he wanted to go to the city?"

"Hmm... he told your mom he wanted to go find an old friend when she asked. But, I suppose that can wait for him, since he hasn't mentioned leaving at all for a while."

You only hum in response.

"He didn't show it much, but his mother says he became much more quiet after you left. You two must have been really close, huh?"

The closest in the world, you wanted to tell him, but your own mouth just couldn't utter the words.

T h r e e Y e a r s A g o

"Flowers? For me?"

"Don't make a big fuss,"

"Tulips and baby's breath! Damn, you know the way to my heart. Hold on, I'll find a vase."

"Be quick. I'm taking you somewhere and we can't be late for it."

"Is it a reservation outside the town? Jihoon, I told you that breakfast place is so expensive for absolutely no rea-"

"It's not a reservation. I've already decided, we're going to the 24-hour diner since you said you like their waffles. Somewhere else."

"You're turning red. What's up?"

"The sky. Now hurry up."

He ended up bringing you to see the sunrise. He kissed you on the cheek in the backseat of his father's (much smaller back then) truck and when you got home close to noon, he brought you to the door, stumbled out a shaky and rushed "I like you", and squeezed your hand when you smiled at him.

It was the first of many dates, snuggling on the couch, overdramatic arguments about whether Rose let Jack freeze, and above all, the first moments of a lifetime spent together. You both knew it was a given.

T h i s Y e a r

"Uncle," Jihoon greets your father before his eyes land on you. His mouth tightens.

"Hi," You say meekly, feeling like the seven-year-old girl who would hide behind her parents to do introductions on her behalf. He doesn't respond, simply lets his eyes pass over you and back to your father.

Your dad doesn't seem fazed, as he remarks, "Cleaning the truck, Hoon? It's a good brand you've got there. Impressed whenever I see it."

Jihoon lets out a polite laugh. "Yes, well... I thought I'd invest in a good one since it'll be used for a while."

Your father turns to you. "Have you ever sat in a truck?"

You shake your head no. You never got to do that on set either.

He claps his hands. "Wonderful! Jihoon agreed to bring you out on a spin around the town. I have to pick up some things for your mom for Christmas Eve, you know how she gets. And I didn't think you'd want to spend your holiday grocery shopping with me. I'd feel at ease if Jihoon is here."

Your face tightens. "What do you mean?"

Jihoon clears his throat. "Uh-"

"You two were inseparable," Your father explains cheerfully. "Nothing like a good catch-up! Jihoon, drive safe, yeah?"

And then he's backing down the walkway, waving to you both. And now it's just you and your ex-boyfriend.

Jihoon looks away from you. "Get in, I guess."

And you do. No matter what Jihoon said, it always had a magnetic effect on you. Even if that same voice is now laced with unfamiliarity and slight coldness, you wouldn't say no to him.

Soon enough you're cruising through the small town, Jihoon's eyes trained on the road. As he slows down at a red light, you hesitantly ask, "How is everything with you?"

"Fine," He answers curtly, with no further elaboration.

Well. You can't say you were surprised.

You swallow and lean back into the seat.

"It's a nice truck," You remark lamely, in a desperate hope of starting conversation. "Your dad finally decided to get a new one?"

"It isn't my dad's," Jihoon replies, monotone still. "It's mine."

"Oh."

You should have known. The truck was much larger, its seats bigger than what you remember sitting in countless times as a teenager when his dad would pick you both up from school or to each other's houses.

After a short silence, you ask once more, "Where are we going?"

"To the coast. Your dad said youmissed the place."

"That's nice," You murmur back, emotions already deflated.

Of course, it had to be the coast. He brought you there to see the sunrise, and that was where you'd finally made it official. Clearly, the memories were just as raw for him, as you noticed him physically gritting his teeth as he stopped the truck.

"We don't have to go there-" You begin, but he cuts in stiffly. "I'm bringing you here to kill time while your dad does his stuff. Don't be mistaken."

"Right," You clear your throat awkwardly. "Of course not."

You're wondering how painful it would be to throw yourself out of the truck in embarrassment when your phone rings. It's Ray, so you mumble a quick "sorry" to Jihoon, who doesn't react, and pick up.

"Ray?"

"Hey, Y/N. How's the holidays so far?"

"Good? What's up?"

"Um..."

"Ray," You tease slightly, "You never call just to ask about my holidays. What's going on?"

"So...I just got back the results for your audition for 'Freak Show'."

"How is it?" You ask, breath caught in your throat. "Ray?"

A heavy sigh comes across the line. "I'm sorry, sweets. I know how much you wanted this role."

Your heart drops, and so does your expression.

"I'm trying to at least get you a supporting role since you liked the script so much, I'll let you-"

"Ray." You take a soft breath. Ray's voice halts. "Yeah?"

"Forget it."

"But-"

"Please... just forget it," You almost sound like you're begging. "I can't sit through doing another role no one's even going to remember. I've worked my ass off, Ray, I've gone for thousands of auditions for the past seven years, and not once have I ever gotten a callback for a lead role. I even tried to re-audition, but that damn assistant director spread the word of my so-called 'desperation', my fucking ex-manager did that stupid interview with the TV, and I ended up nowhere!"

"Y/N..."

"I'm sorry," You sigh immediately, trying to calm down. "I'm sorry about that. I'm really thankful that you help me, always. Without you, I might have been entirely jobless and the agency would have fired me."

"Oh, hun," Your manager murmurs comfortingly. "Like I said, you're a good actress. Really good. It's just a pity things went south and you met that assistant director who wanted to screw with you. Otherwise, you'd be on the front pages everywhere now."

"I...It's fine. I'll live. Just, Ray..."

"Hm?"

"Don't tell Rina and the rest if they call to ask, okay?"

"Your friends..?"

"Yeah. I... I want to tell them myself." More like no, you never want them to know. You can already see the fake disappointment on Rina's face when she whips her phone out to tell the chat made up of almost twenty actresses.

Ray agrees, and he tells you again not to stress too much before cutting the call. You lean against the cushion of your seat, closing your eyes, and when someone clears his throat you flinch. "Jihoon. Sorry."

He doesn't respond, simply looks at you as if you're a stranger, and you swallow nervously. "My manager called," You explain feebly, not that he even asked.

He nods once. "I heard." His eyes aren't exactly angry, they are still slightly cold, but there's something in them that seems more curious now.

You rub your eyes to snap yourself out, and you muster a smile at him. "So where are we going?"

"To get food," He replies. "That hot dog truck you liked a lot back then is here today, my dad told me."

"Oh, that's okay--"

"Don't eat hot dogs anymore?" He asks wryly, as he puts the truck in reverse and starts parking.

"Of course I do," You reply immediately, folding your arms. "Are you mad? Giving up on snacking?"

A flicker of a smile appears across his typically stoic face before he schools it and reverts to his stern expression. "I wouldn't know. You're stick thin, anyone would think you gave up fast food."

"Well. That just comes with exercise and occasional diets. And I'm not as thin as you say," You murmur. "But no. I wouldn't give up late-night cravings. My manager's one of the nicer ones."

Jihoon snorts slightly as he turns the engine off. "Thank goodness for that, I suppose?"

You shrug, and motion for him to lead the way to the hot dog stall as you climb out of the truck. You follow him down a rough patch of grass and rocks, all while he maintains a healthy distance. The sun warms your skin, and you breathe in the fresh, salty coast air.

"I'm sorry about the role, by the way. You must have worked extra hard for it," Jihoon says suddenly, hands in his pockets as he walks next to you, now back on solid ground, and you turn to face him, your face colouring in... embarrassment? Shame? "You heard my manager?"

"No. Just you, I put the pieces together."

Oh. "Right."

"Is it not...going well?" He motions with his hand vaguely. "Sorry, I don't mean to pry."

"It's fine, Jihoon," You stifle a reluctant laugh. "You can ask."

He stays silent so you continue. "I'm not getting any lead roles, only minor ones even if I put everything I have into it..." You sigh. "My friends don't really mention me, or they make little remarks about my rejections. As an adult, you'd think I shouldn't be bothered, but it just... it gets loud sometimes."

A few moments pass, your sneakers shuffling through the sand, when Jihoon finally says, "They don't seem like friends to me."

You let out a half-chuckle. "That's how showbiz is, I guess."

"No," Jihoon disagrees. "It doesn't matter if it's the industry or not. Friends are here to lift you up, not celebrate your downs. They shouldn't be doing that to you."

He goes silent after and as you get nearer, the food truck coming into view, you mull over what he just told you.

"I guess you’re right," You finally concede after a small pause. "They really shouldn't."

He says nothing more about it, and simply exchanges swift greetings with the stall owner, who seems to know him well. You try to smile weakly at the owner, but with your emotions still running high, you can only hope it doesn't come out as a grimace.

He gets hot dogs for both of you, and you look on gratefully and with a little surprise as he reels off your order word for word: a large hot dog bun with mustard, ketchup, and extra grilled onions. He gets a soda for each of you too, and you almost groan in satisfaction when the food is done. He looks on, looking slightly amused when you dig in.

"Not your usual fine dining concept, sorry." He says as he watches you take a big bite.

"Are you kidding? Way better," You mumble through your mouthful, and he snorts before taking a bite himself.

Just like that, the tension from earlier dissolves into something a little softer, a little gentler.

"So," Jihoon says later, as you're polishing off your soda. "What's been up with you these few years?"

"What do you mean?"

"You haven't come back to visit your parents. They don't say it, but they get really worried when you don't call."

"Oh."

He raises his eyebrows at you, prompting you to go on.

"Life gets in the way." You explain, resigned. "I want to call home too, but I'm either fighting for roles that I know I'll never get or I'm trying out for more auditions. Plus, the past few years weren't a good time."

"Why?"

"Old manager," You reply, frowning at the sheer memory of the mess you engulfed yourself in two years ago. "Put me on stupid diets for no reason and when this assistant director snitched on me for being 'desperate for roles' when I tried reapplying, he gave a secret interview to the reporters."

Jihoon scowls slightly. "Right. I heard about that. Prick." You laugh out loud. "Yeah. A real prick."

"And then?"

"Not much else. I was trying to clear my name, and by then I wasn't getting that many roles either."

Jihoon doesn't say anything, and you steal a glance at him. He looks... conflicted would be a good way to put it. Like he doesn't know what to say or do.

Before you can think of something to say, anything to dispel the sudden tension, he suddenly gets to his feet. "Come on. I'm taking you home."

You raise your eyebrows. "Okay... is everything alright?" Was that your imagination, or did he just clench his teeth?

"Fine." Yup, he was definitely gritting his teeth. You're beyond perplexed. But with how angry he already looks, you're not sure you want to aggravate him further, so you get up, toss your cup into the bin, and follow him back to the truck.

The whole journey is spent in silence, and a lot of uncertain glances from your end.

When he drops you off at your home twenty minutes later, he doesn't say anything as you unbuckle your seatbelt.

"Jihoon?" You ask, turning to face him in the seat.

"Yes?"

His face freezes slightly when you tell him, "Thanks for today. I had lots of fun."

He swallows nervously, evident in the bob of his Adam's apple as he shrugs. "No problem."

"And…um… thanks for still remembering my hot dog order." You say softly, before turning to climb out of the truck.

When you get to your front porch, and then climb the stairs to your room, you look out the window.

He's still there.

T h r e e Y e a r s A g o

"Did you just say you're...leaving?"

"I got the audition. It's my big break... if I don't take the chance now, I might not ever get to. It's my dream, you know that."

"What else?"

"Huh?"

"Your dreams this, your big break that. Don't you have anything else to say?"

"...What can I say?"

"What do you mean, what can you say? What about us?"

T h i s Y e a r

The next morning arrives in the form of your mother standing over your bed. “Hey, darl, wake up!”

“Mhmm?” You mumble from under your covers and you hear her chuckle before she peels your blanket back.

“Jihoon’s mom is coming over to help with Christmas Eve dinner,” she explains. “But I totally forgot about the school donation.”

“School donation…?” What is she talking about?

“Oh! Right. So we donate a bunch of food every year to your old school. You remember it, right? Near the Methodist church?”

“Yeah,” You yawn, stretching up in bed and rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.

“They pass it to orphanages for children who don’t have Christmas dinner this season. I’ve had it prepared since this morning, but with Jihoon’s mom and the dinner, I don’t think I’ll have time to drop by the school,” She looks regretful. “Would you mind helping with that, dear?”

“Sure,” You reply, cracking your neck. “I’ll handle it. Don’t worry, mom.”

“Thanks, hun,” Your mom says, looking relieved. “It’s quite a lot. We had lots to give this year. Mrs Lee said she’d send Jihoon to help you.”

“Huh?”

“I wouldn’t send you into the cold holding tons of heavy bags!” Your mom fusses. “Wash up and eat before you go — your dad got the most amazing bread yesterday.”

After she leaves, you sit there, wide awake.

Jihoon is coming.

That fact alone has you hurrying to tidy yourself for god knows what, even applying a bit of mascara and lip gloss to salvage your face.

Your phone pings as you start tidying your table, and you look at Ray's name popping on the screen.

"Remember your audition and screen test with the director of 'Who Knows Why'?" The text reads. "He's making the final decision for the female lead of his new holiday film. This guy has high standards and his films are very popular, but he likes picking new faces over the same old stars. A few of your friends are in the choices too, but...I just have a feeling this could be it. I'll let you know again. Happy holidays!"

You sigh. Who Knows Why made headlines for weeks when it hit the cinemas, critics and film connoisseurs alike singing its praises. Unless a miracle selected you while you were sleeping, you very much doubted you would make it past.

By the time you get downstairs and have a few pieces of the toasted bread — which is amazing, all warm and toasty and fresh — the doorbell rings, and your mom rushes to get the door.

“Mrs Lee!” She exclaims, hurriedly ushering the other lady into the house. “Thanks for coming by today.”

As the two exchange pleasantries, Jihoon steps into the house, removing his boots and smiling slightly when your mother coos over him too.

He merely nods in acknowledgement when he sees you. The contrast makes your stomach clench slightly.

“Ah, Jihoon,” His mother says. “Make sure to help Y/N with the bags of food, yeah?”

He simply nods again, a soft “okay” escaping his mouth, before he approaches you.

“Let’s get going,” He says conversationally.

“Okay,” You reply nervously. He raises his eyebrows as he walks to the heaping table.

He picks out most of them. Especially the biggest and bulkiest ones.

It’s fifteen minutes later when you’re walking down the path when he breaks the silence. “Are you alright?”

“Hm?” You ask. “Oh yeah, I’m fine. Why?”

“Nothing. I thought with the role thing… never mind.”

“Oh.” Truth be told, you’d barely thought of it since the hot dog outing. “Uh… I mean, what’s past is past, right?”

“I suppose.” He replies, non-committal.

And there it goes again. The choking, awkward silence that just doesn’t seem to dissipate no matter what either of you.

There’s a bit of fuss when you reach the school, what with all the grunt work passing over the food and making sure the right people get the right things, and that provides a little relief, at least for an hour or so.

After it’s all over, you find yourself at the school gates where you first met Jihoon, with the very same man, now twenty years on.

“It hasn’t changed much,” You observe.

Jihoon shrugs. “I guess. It’s like very little time passed.”

That roadblock comes back.

You swallow. “Um, Jihoon.”

He makes a humming sound in response.

“Are we…okay?”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” You admit, pulling at your sweater. “You seemed angry when we were out the other day and…”

“I’m not mad.”

“Right.”

You're not convinced.

“I’m really not.” He insists, although you haven’t even said anything to contradict him.

“I know. You said so.”

“Well, you sure don’t sound like you believe me.” He says, rather scathingly.

You shoot him a quizzical look. It was a choice between acting dumb or admitting that after all this time, he could still read you like a book.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“I know.” He laughs bitterly. “You never do, anyway.” He turns away as he says this.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask, slightly affronted.

“I don’t know, you tell me,” He says in a sudden show of annoyance. “Not even one call all these years, and when you finally show up back here, I find out how shit your so-called dream life has been. But I don’t know! It could just be me.”

“Jihoon-”

“And I’m just thinking, you gave up all of this?” He waves his arm outward. “You gave up everything back here… for what you have now? Was it even worth it in the end?”

“I thought that was what I wanted.” You try to answer, but it comes out pathetically. He was spot-on.

You left your family, your home, the love of your life… for something that ended up being unworthy in the slightest.

And you were now reaping the consequences.

“I…” Jihoon rubs his face, his anger now cooled into something like resignation. “You made your choice. I get that. I’m trying to understand. I just… I don’t know why you thought the life you have now, with fake friends and unnecessary drama, was better than peace.”

"It wasn't that I wanted to go through all of that... I --"

He stares at you, waiting for you to go on. But it's as if someone has sealed your mouth shut, as nothing escapes it.

T h r e e Y e a r s A g o

"You won't even bother trying? Will you fight for us?"

"How can I? The agent made it clear... once I step out, dating is out of the question.."

"So that's it? You're just going to leave for some big city, and I'll just be stuck here, waiting for someone who's already made her choice?"

"Jihoon, I... fuck, I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"All of it. I let you down."

Never had you seen your boyfriend regard you with as much disappointment as he did now.

"You did, Y/N. You really did. God, I thought--I thought we mattered more than those billboards."

"Jihoon-"

"But there's no point, right? You already made your decision. You don't intend to look back at all, do you?"

"I-"

Jihoon sighed, and bent his head in resignation, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. After what seemed like an eternity, he finally raised his head. "Then why are you still here?"

"What?"

"You heard me. I won't hold you back. Go on."

Silence, the raging kind that had never once blossomed between you both, took over.

After what seemed like an eternity, your mouth opened.

"We... we leave on the 17th."

He doesn't look up from his lap as you exit his room, down the creaking stairs of his family home for the last time, and you come face to face with his mom.

"Chase your dreams, dear," She'd said, clasping your hands, although you thought you saw unshed tears in her eyes as your own streaked down your face. "Come home and visit us sometime. Jihoon will be okay."

You did leave on the 17th. Jihoon turned up with his parents, and as his mom kissed you on the forehead and gave you her blessings, his gaze stayed on you, but he didn't step forward to say goodbye.

He kept looking on as you climbed into the car, and in the rearview mirror as it pulled away, you thought you saw him start to raise his hand in a momentary wave.

But then he was far gone behind you, and now you only had the road ahead for company.

T h i s Y e a r

The truck ride back is silent again. Jihoon doesn't even look in your direction, except to check his blind spots and adjacent lanes. Your mind is equally messed up, thinking about everything he said to you.

Was he right? Had you lost your way, and bargained everything you could have lived with, in exchange for friends who couldn't care less about you, and a career akin to a peakless, uphill slope?

Finally, when the silence becomes a thick, choking fog, you finally speak up. "Jihoon?"

He glances to you for a fraction of a second. "Yes?"

"If..." You struggle to find the words. "If... I hadn't made that choice..."

His head turns to you fully, his gaze now sharp. "What?"

You have to plan out what you want to say, word for word, before you go on. "If I chose to stay back then... would we have lasted? Would we have..."

Jihoon turns back to the road. "Would we have stayed together? Do you want my honest answer?"

You nod imperceptibly. "More than anything."

"We would," He says quietly, but with no hesitation as he makes a left. "I would have told you that we should set up a joint account and plan for a home together in maybe three years. I would've told you that we could go on weekly grocery runs and start thinking about moving in together. And I probably would have told you that I love you."

You freeze.

"It sounds unnecessary and stupid, but I don't want you to burden yourself with that, now," He says, sitting back and looking straight ahead. "I know you don't belong here, or to me, anymore. That's life, and we all move on, one way or another. Plus it's Christmas, and you're here now, so.... you should enjoy it before you leave."

And that's that. Just a reminder for you to enjoy yourself before you inevitably have to go. None of you need to speak to know that the conversation is over.

The drive resumes in silence.

You can't sleep. You've tossed and turned a million times, head pounding with exhaustion, but something's just stopping your eyes from shutting. Unfortunately, you know exactly why.

Jihoon's there in your mind. Sometimes the calm, steady person he's always been, sometimes a roaring, dark figure glaring at you the way he did when you said you were leaving.

Around two in the morning, you finally sit up. You have to go to Jihoon. You don't know what you're going to say, but if you don't find him, he will never stop haunting you.

You slip on a warm sweater and shoes, and gently close the front door behind you. The village is truly ready for the festivities, all twinkling golden lights and lightly falling snow. But none of that matters as you pad through the white fluff towards Jihoon's home.

When he opens the door, he's dishevelled, but doesn't show signs of having just woken up. "Uh... it's two a.m...?"

"I know it is," You say apologetically. "I'm sorry. I, uh... I couldn't sleep."

He raises his eyebrows. "Ah. I see."

You're beginning to regret this. Maybe you should've thought this through. "Look, it's okay, I'm really sorry for bothering you--"

"Guess that makes two of us," He says conversationally, as if it isn't the dead of night. "Come in. It's cold."

You wait for him to walk in before following him into the house. Try as you might, you just can't shake the feeling of nostalgia that rushes through you as you walk around the house you've visited a million times.

You know that his favourite grey mug is on the cabinet shelf above the sink. The earl grey cookies he can't live without is on the counter. The stairs still creak a little when you step on the floorboards nearby. You know him and everything that belongs to him. You know it all.

You take a seat at his table. "Will your parents be upset that I came at this hour?"

He eyes you wryly. "You know silly questions get silly answers."

You know your question is nearly pointless. You've left late, slept over, even gotten drunk in this house and his parents still doted on you nevertheless.

You shrug. "Doesn't hurt to ask."

He hums as he reaches for a hot cocoa mix. "Then my answer is no. Nobody's upset."

Five minutes later, he places a cup of steaming hot chocolate in front of you and sits down.

"So, bad dreams?"

"Huh?"

"You said you couldn't sleep. Did you have a bad dream?"

"No. Not really bad. Just... disturbing."

He raises his eyebrows. "I think that's the same thing."

"Dreams are like... like movies." You try to explain, a smile forming on your face. "Bad dreams are horrors and thrillers. Disturbing dreams are more like... like they could be any genre, but some parts and some scenes affect you more."

"Right," He says. "So Titanic was disturbing, then?"

"Very!" You blurt before you can stop yourself. "Because it still confuses me to this day, how on earth didn't Jack fit on the door?"

He breathes out a chuckle, leaning back on his chair. "It confuses me how you compare dreams to movies. They're in two complete worlds altogether."

"Admit it. It's a good analogy."

"It is," He admits. "I didn't think of that before."

You look at him, and you wonder how you can continue the conversation from here. He sits there for a few more minutes and stands up. "I'll go set up a room for you. It's snowing pretty badly, and you'll be soaked through if you walk back. I'd drive you, but I'm not sure if I'll be able to see anything."

He starts to leave the room, and you grab his arm. "Jihoon."

He looks down at your physical contact point. "Yes?"

"Earlier, when you said...when you said that movies and dreams are in two different worlds."

He looks at you. Staring unblinkingly, eyes never avoiding yours. He seems just as about to ready to confront this truth as you are.

Your dream was the movie screen, and his dream was you. Two completely, otherworldly different ones, but dreams and wishes nonetheless. Maybe now that you were once again back where you started, they could finally align.

"You weren't just talking about actual dreams, were you?"

Jihoon stiffens and steps back. "We're not doing this again."

"No, wait --" You say, closing your eyes to gather your thoughts. "I'm not going to make you tell me anything. I just want to know if you meant something else."

Jihoon swore he would give himself a pat on his back as he leaned down to look you square in the eye. "And if I said I did?"

You swallow and look at him. Your heart is pounding, and all logical thinking has been long thrown out of the window. "I'd thank the heavens for bringing me home."

His mouth finds yours and you pull him down to meet you more. It's not a cold war anymore. It's no longer a battle to see who can withstand the silence better.

And there is no more silence, you realise, because Jihoon is sniffling and your cheeks are stained with two warm droplets. "Jihoon?"

"I'm sorry," He mumbles, making no effort to withdraw. "I couldn't help it. I...I missed you. Not just this," He squeezes your hand which has somehow intertwined with his, and you squeeze back with the little strength you can muster. "Just...you. Drinking hot chocolate in my kitchen in the middle of the night, being within two streets' distance of me... eating hot dogs in my truck and sending food when Christmas comes."

You blink back tears. "I'm sorry for missing out all these years."

"Don't be sorry," He replies, imperceptibly softly, his hand coming up to stroke your cheek. "Just be with me."

You spend the night. And the night after, and the one after that.

The next three days pass like a fever dream. You go skating at the outdoor rink with Jihoon, laugh at how he wobbles his way to you like a baby deer learning how to walk for the first time, drink hot peppermint tea at a market stall after dinner, and let Jihoon tuck you into his coat on the walk home.

You didn't want this to end. No matter what. Ray hadn't yet gotten back to you on the audition results, and you decided to take it as a no and move on, just as you always did.

Of course, life always found a way to rear back and bite you hard, as your phone rings. With gloved hands, you pull it out of your coat pocket to see Ray's name again.

"Ray!" You chuckle, a little heady and happy from the day's events.

"So someone's having a good Christmas," Ray teases. "Well, my friend, it's going to get a lot better."

"What?" You ask, your boots crunching to a stop. Next to you, Jihoon also stops walking, his eyes wholly on you in concentration.

"The director of 'Who Knows Why'," Ray says, poorly concealed excitement in his voice. "He called me today, said he wants you to take the role! Your friends didn't get it even though they're so famous, and guess what? You did."

"Ray." You say, firmly. "Repeat that."

"You. Made. It. Out of over 100 actresses. I'm not joking!"

You freeze, look up and lock eyes with Jihoon, who raises his eyebrows in question.

"Oh, my god," You say, and it all comes out in a rush. "You're...you're serious."

"As a heart attack." Ray promises. "So, when can I come pick you up? Day after Christmas?"

"Ah." You hesitate. The filming would involve you....leaving. And if you were to stay and prepare for press tours, interviews, meet-and-greets... when were you returning?

"Can I call you back? I'll check..."

"Sure, hon," Ray replies cheerfully. "Go tell your folks the good news! They're gonna be thrilled."

You laugh weakly and then hang up. Then you turn to your lover (is he?).

"So, what was that about?" He asks, resuming the walk.

"I..."

At his concerned look, you finally sigh. "I got a lead role. In the film of a really popular director."

"That's amazing....oh." His face falls as he comes to the conclusion you fear. "Does that mean...you have to leave, don't you?"

You take a soft breath, shuffling your feet back and forth nervously. "I suppose so. I...I have to."

And to make matters worse, your phone pings with a text, your face souring as you read her message. Then, Jihoon watches as you put your phone back in your coat without another word.

"Who is that?" He demands. He knows he sounds like a little child, but he doesn't stop himself. He doesn't like the bitter expression on your face and that's all he knows.

"A friend." You reply.

"Real friend or...?"

You sigh and fish your phone out and pass it to him. He reads the simple "Fuck you" message from Rina, and undiluted anger crosses his face. "What the-"

You shrug. "She was probably one of the actresses hoping to be selected. Not much I can hide from you now."

He chuckles bitterly. "Yeah, we're not hiding the fact that you have to leave in maybe three days. Back to people like this-" He gestures to your phone. "- and who knows what else."

"I'll try to come back often," You say, although it doesn't seem convincing in the slightest. Jihoon doesn't buy a word of it either, judging by his expression.

"Really?" He says. "You haven't even been able to find time to come home for years now. I know you've gotten your big break and I'm happy for you, but... I don't know what to do if you leave for years on end again."

"I'll try to shuttle back and forth," You insist. "I have to."

"Well," Jihoon says, still looking at you doubtfully. "Don't make it an obligation."

"No, let's talk about it," You insist. "I just...I've never gotten a lead role before. It's not just... it's not just a role I can give up right away."

"Well, then choose. Tell me what you want." He replies, disappointment crossing his face.

"I...I haven't decided yet." You say lamely. "I need...I need a little more time to think."

He simply continues looking at you, before turning away and pacing back and forth. All you can do is watch him helplessly. "I just don't want to think about when this...will be over." Fling? Relationship?

It's as if he already knows what you're thinking about as he smiles sadly. "See, you don't even know what label to put on us."

"I just don't like when it has to be one over the other." You say, hugging yourself and staring at your shoes. "I've missed you. You know I love you and I want to continue seeing you, but I can't just give up on what I've wanted for so long."

But Jihoon is already shaking his head and starting to walk. "It doesn't have to be one way or another. Because I think you've already made your decision. I'm taking you home."

And it was happening all over again. Days had passed with no interaction with him, and even on Christmas Day itself, he was nowhere to be found.

Too fast, the evening when Ray came to pick you up loomed near. Your father helped you pack, but behind the reminders to bring your makeup bag and home slippers was a tinge of sadness. Your old folks didn't even know when they'd next see you.

When Ray comes out of the car to pick you up, out steps another lady with him, who nods to you in greeting.

"This is Rachel, the producer for the movie," Ray explains. "Since it’s gonna be a holiday romance-comedy, she wanted to visit your town to see what it looked like in Christmas."

You smile, and nod eagerly. "It's beautiful. You won't regret it."

Rachel smiles back, then speaks to Ray. "You guys stay here. I'll go take a quick walk and be right back."

As she leaves, you look at Ray. "Can we talk?"

Ray raises an eyebrow. "What about?"

"I... was wondering." You say. "I have a bit of a predicament at home. I'd like to stay longer. Could you maybe...push for the filming to be delayed?"

Ray looks surprised. "You want to wait?"

"More than anything."

A smirk starts blooming on Ray's face. "For a guy?"

At your delay, he slaps your shoulders. "Great! So, is the lucky guy totally alright with your job? That's a good man right there."

"Actually..."

You sprint towards Jihoon's house. Your attention is fixed on trying not to fall flat into the snow and to get to him as quickly as possible. Other townspeople are gawking, probably wondering why someone is in such a hurry, practically flying down the street.

At his door, you start knocking hard. His mom opens the door, and to your dismay, she explains that Jihoon hasn't been home since the morning.

"Maybe he's at the coast," She suggests, and you have never set off so fast before.

You implore Ray to drive you, and despite his reservations, a call from Rachel confirms that he has enough time to bring you there in his car for you to find Jihoon.

“So I’m now a party who can help you find the love of your life,” He teases you. “What do you owe me if this works out?"

"I'll make sure I land another film after this."

"You're on."

Ray barely puts the brakes on before you're opening the door. "I'll see you in a bit!"

"Should I prepare tissues?" He calls back. You pray not as you frantically scan your surroundings for a familiar, dark-haired man.

And like the heavens are answering you, you find him. Sat upon the roof of his truck, staring out at the coast at the setting sun.

"Jihoon?" You call as you get nearer to him. The man freezes, then turns slowly to face you. "I thought you were heading back. Why are you here?"

"To talk," You say softly, trying to catch your breath. "I... I think we left some things unsaid."

"No," He disagrees, crossing his legs over to face you while still sitting. "I owe you an apology."

"What?"

"I shouldn't have tried to make you choose me over your dreams. I know how hard you've been working, and you're finally getting to your peak... I should have supported you. I'm sorry. It was selfish of me."

"No," You insist, waving your hands. "I made that mistake first. Years ago, when I decided to leave, I didn't put you in front of my thoughts. I....I thought we'd be okay."

Jihoon shrugs and gives you a sad smile. "I'll always root for you. So... no hard feelings. Go ahead and shine. I promise we're okay. I'll never have bad feelings for you no matter what happens."

You shake your head. "That-"

"Y/N!" You hear Ray calling for you. Seriously? At this moment?

"What?" You hiss furiously.

"Check your phone!" You hear his hushed response.

"Later!"

"No! Now!"

You sigh and pull it out at his insistent glare, and when you look down at the message, your eyes light up. You shoot him a quizzical glance. Are you serious?

At his frantic nod, you turn back to Jihoon.

"You should go," Jihoon repeats. "They must be waiting for you."

"They are," You nod. He nods back, eyes not leaving yours.

"See you in a bit."

He cocks his head in confusion.

"Haven't you heard?" You smile a bit at his nonplussed expression.

"The filming location shifted."

"What?"

"I'll be here, apparently. For the next half a year, or so. The producer decided this place must be too good to pass up."

His jaw drops, and he slides off the truck, as if his surprise disabled his sense of balance. “You’ll be… here?”

“For a while,” You shrug nonchalantly, as if your heart isn’t beating fast and hard. “So, if… if you still want to talk, and maybe spend spring together… I’m down.”

He drops himself off the vehicle and his boots hit the ground with a crunch. “Say that again.”

You smile and take a few steps towards him. “I’m here for spring, Jihoon. And the seasons after that…we’ll figure it out one at a time. How does that sound?”

He lets out a laugh then, choked up but ecstatic. He makes sure, steady steps towards you, arms open in welcome and love, and as you step into his warmth, you let out a relieved, happy sigh and look up at him.

“Merry Christmas, Jihoon.”

“Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

N e x t Y e a r

"I forgot how cold it can get every time," Jihoon hisses as another gust of wind hits.

"It's worse in town," You tease. "I barely feel anything now."

"Yes, yes, you with your big girl city habits," He shivers. "I'll pick that bone with you once we get home, I swear."

"I'm looking forward to it." You chuckle, and he squeezes you tight. As resigned as he is to the eccentric habits you picked up in the city, he's just happy you're here to spend this Christmas with him. And the one next year, and the one after that.

Home. Our home. You were a part of his home, and him yours.

Yes, you thought, even as you leaned against him and felt him wrap his coat around you despite knowing you weren't cold at all. As long as you were with him, you were home.

a u t h o r ' s n o t e:

merry christmas eve! i hope you enjoyed this story every bit as much as i enjoyed writing it 🎄 i started thinking about this close to october (because i missed my eras tour experience so much 😭) and wondered if anyone would like a crossover between seventeen and tswift!! so here goes, in time for christmas and your spotify wrapped, 'tis the damn season 💌

🎼 refer below for the fic playlist (with lots of svt, taylor swift, and sweet, romantic christmas tracks)

taglist: @jeonghnie

f i c p l a y l i s t :

'tis the damn season -- taylor swift

mirrorball -- taylor swift

lover - taylor swift

paper rings - taylor swift

daylight - taylor swift

new year's day - taylor swift

ours - taylor swift

i love you, i''m sorry - gracie abrams

risk - gracie abrams

all my love - seventeen

falling for you - seventeen

headliner - seventeen

lie again - seventeen

second life - seventeen

to you - seventeen

my santa claus - jessie james decker

glow - brett eldredge

all i want for christmas is you - michael buble

kiss you this christmas - why don't we

take me home for christmas - dan + shay

[bonbonly]

pairing: charles leclerc x teamstrategist!reader; tw: fingering, cunnilingus, a twinge of degradation, p in v charles leclerc hated his team strategist more than he hated losing races. oh wait. he hated losing because of his team strategist. if the last one was bad, then the young girl who volunteered to help her rich daddy surely wasn't any better. people paraded you around like you were the second coming of the lord, as if you would save ferrari by yourself.

a few races in showed the public a few things: you were cheerful and bright, really sweet to the race engineers, and also had good strategies that only seemed to benefit everyone but charles. carlos had a few extra wins and podiums than charles, and the latter's blood boiled at the thought. he slunked off to a corner, eyeing the garage carefully when his focus landed on you. a ferrari jacket too big for you, laughter echoing so loud that your body shook with each laugh, lips parted into a wide grin. he really hated you, hated that you were still so happy even when he was losing.

"sometimes the better driver wins, that's how it happens, Mr. Leclerc," you chastised him with a side eye during a team meeting once, and that was enough for him. you wanted to play dirty and try to ruin his races? oh he could play along just fine.

he couldn't bring himself to disobey team orders, so he figured the only way to properly go about this was to change your mind instead. and that he did when he noticed you in the club, scrolling through your phone aimlessly.

"getting bored?" charles asked.

"no, just looking at some notes i wrote for next week's race." you responded.

"as if that helps at all," charles grumbled, rolling his eyes. you scowled at him, shooing him away with your hand,

"don't blame your incompetence on me."

"Do you think I'm incompetent, am I?" he asked you when he had managed to pin you against a wall in his house, fingers curling inside you as you gripped onto his arms, "i want words, now."

"n-no, i d-don't," you whimpered, wondering why you even bothered to come home with him. oh that was right, you wanted him to fuck your brains out. you came around his fingers with a cry, chest heaving as you gasped for air. in one swift motion, he carried you over to the couch, palming your tits through your tight minidress that left little to the imagination in the first place. with a growl, he tore off your clothes and spread your legs, immediately wrapping his lips against your oversensitive cunny with the intention of making you a babbling mess.

"you taste so good," his accent rumbled against your core, causing you to moan out loud, hips bucking into his mouth. he let out a soft chuckle, letting his tongue explore the insides of your cunt, slurping up your juices, "i thought your stuck up ass would never let this happen.""i wouldn't," you breathed out, throwing your head back, "this is only for tonight."

he kissed the insides of your thighs before letting his tongue rake over your puffy cunt once more, the gummy walls welcoming his tongue even though you swore you couldn't handle another orgasm, "maybe you're better off being my little slut instead of my team strategist, you're only good for this anyway."

his tongue darted in and out of you, a thumb coming around your waist to circle your clit. and before you knew it, you were coming for a second time, tears streaming down your face with how good he felt. with a satisfied gleam in his eyes, he licked his lips to savor your juices once more before unbuckling his belt. he grabbed onto your ankles and pulled you closer to him, chuckling at the way you squealed in shock,

"i think i deserve to cum at least once right? you can't make me win, you might as well do one fucking thing right tonight," he chuckled, watching your face contort in pleasure when he finally sank his painfully hard cock inside you. and charles did end up winning the next race, a proud smile on his knowing face as he glanced to see you limping around the garage, avoiding everyone's eyes to not reveal what happened last night. he bit his lip, hoping to reward you for your good work today.

[magnagaruzenmon]

Vacation love NSFW

Massive thank you to @pranksterzord and for putting Dinozenon on to this absolute bombshell along with next week’s Hara.

Despite my successful date with Hyewon, she hadn’t texted me back consistently. Granted, her ditzy nature probably played a part, but it still made chatting with her a convoluted mess, especially when it came to planning dates.

That’s how I found myself flying alone to Japan. I was on vacation, not working, and Hyem was supposed to be here with me. But three days before the trip, she informed me of a last-minute photo shoot she couldn’t skip, so I was on my own. Despite our mutual attraction and similar quirks, my time with Hyewon was often spontaneous at best. Since we weren’t an official couple, I couldn’t exactly complain.

I checked into the hotel and sat by the window while waiting for my keys. The view outside was serene, but the real action started when someone sat down across from me.

“Um, are you a photographer?” a voice asked, breaking my thoughts.

I turned to see a stunning, petite woman with a curvy frame and an easy smile. Her big, expressive eyes held a glimmer of curiosity.

“Yeah, but I’m officially off duty today,” I replied with a casual shrug.

“Darn.” She pouted, her lips curling into a playful grin. “I was hoping you were my assigned photographer for my shoot.”

“Oh, are you a model?” I asked, my brow raised. She nodded, and as I appraised her, something about her felt familiar.

The woman tilted her head, scrutinizing me as well before her face lit up. “Wait… Hiro?”

It clicked. “Iori?”

Her smile widened, and in an instant, she sprang up to wrap her arms around me in a tiny bear hug. Despite her small stature, her enthusiasm nearly toppled me over.

“I haven’t seen you in forever!” she exclaimed, stepping back but keeping her hands on my shoulders.

“Months, actually,” I corrected with a laugh. “Been busy with K-pop gigs lately.”

“K-pop gigs?” she teased, her eyes narrowing. “Let me guess—running after idols with your camera and forgetting all about little old me?”

“More like dodging managers who think I’m there to steal their thunder,” I shot back. “But no, Iori, you’re unforgettable. How could I forget my most dramatic client?”

Her jaw dropped in mock offense. “Dramatic? Excuse you! I’m passionate.”

“Passionately dramatic, sure,” I teased, earning a playful shove.

“Well, are they at least paying you well for all that dodging and drama?” she asked, her tone shifting to genuine curiosity.

“They are,” I reassured her, smirking. “But if they weren’t, what would you do? Scold them on my behalf?”

“Absolutely,” she said, crossing her arms and pretending to glare. “If they weren’t treating my favorite photographer well and keeping him from seeing me, I’d have to intervene.”

I leaned back in my seat, chuckling. “No need, Iori. My wallet’s happy, and now that I’m here, you can’t say I’m neglecting you.”

“Hmm, I’ll let you off the hook this time,” she said, her pout returning. Then, her eyes lit up again. “Actually, speaking of work… since you’re here and my photographer flaked, how about you step in for the shoot?”

I raised an eyebrow. “And what’s in it for me? I hope you’re not expecting free labor just because you’re my favorite ‘passionate’ model.”

Iori leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, a sly smile creeping across her lips. “Oh, you’ll be paid, Mr. Fancy Photographer. I wouldn’t dream of taking advantage of you. But I might insist on dinner after, on my tab, of course.”

I feigned thoughtfulness, tapping my chin. “Hmm. Room service or a fancy sushi spot?”

“Bold of you to assume I’d let you order room service,” she teased. “You’re getting the real deal. Only the best for my hero!”

“Hero?” I repeated with a smirk. “I’m just doing my job.”

“Riku, if you haven’t figured it out by now,” she said, standing and leaning down to look me in the eye, “I only hire heroes, and the occasional villain. Speaking of Say Hi to Hiro for me”

I rolled my eyes listening to her before responding, “I’ll tell him,” After getting my room keys, we headed to her shoot in a black car she had waiting outside. As soon as the doors closed, Iori turned her body toward me, her knee brushing against mine.

“So, how long are you staying in Japan?” she asked, her tone dripping with casual curiosity but her smile giving away her playful intentions.

“Just a week,” I replied, leaning back. “Figured I’d decompress, maybe take some photos for fun if inspiration hits.”

“Well, inspiration just walked into your life,” she said, fluttering her eyelashes at me exaggeratedly. “You could shoot me all week. I promise I’m a very cooperative model.”

“Iori, I’m pretty sure you’re the opposite of cooperative,” I said, giving her a sidelong glance.

She gasped in mock offense. “Me? I’m an angel. Aren’t I an angel?”

“Sure. An angel who gets her photographer to break his vacation plans.”

She nudged my arm. “You’re on vacation and working for me—it’s the best of both worlds! Plus, I’m way more fun than lounging around by yourself. Admit it, Riku”

Iori leaned in closer, resting her chin on her hand. Her other hand casually grazed my thigh. “Besides, you know you missed me.”

“You know, I think I missed the peace of not being teased every five seconds,” I said, shooting her a dry look.

“You love it,” she shot back confidently, laughing. “Remember the last shoot? You couldn’t stop smiling whenever I messed with you.”

I opened my mouth to argue but realized she wasn’t entirely wrong.

“You’re impossible,” I muttered, shaking my head.

“And you love that too,” she said, grinning like she’d won.

When we arrived at the location—a sleek studio tucked into a corner of downtown Tokyo—she stopped me just before getting out of the car. Her hand caught my wrist, and she looked up at me with a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

“Promise you’ll make me look good today?” she asked, her voice softer, almost sweet.

I smirked, leaning just slightly into her space. “I can’t promise to do the impossible, Iori.”

Her jaw dropped, and she smacked my arm lightly. “Rude! You better make me look amazing, or I’m telling everyone you’re terrible to work with!”

I chuckled as we climbed out of the car. “Relax. You’re not exactly difficult to photograph. Even if you’re difficult in every other way.”

She rolled her eyes, slipping her arm through mine as we headed into the building. “I’m gonna make you eat those words by the end of the day, Riku.”

“Looking forward to it,” I said, matching her grin.

The shoot location turned out to be a secluded beach, with crystal-clear waters and smooth, white sand stretching for miles. A small tent had been set up near the shore as a makeshift dressing area, and Iori wasted no time dragging me over to it, chattering excitedly about the theme of the shoot.

“Alright, Riku, you’re about to see me in my element,” she declared, flipping her hair dramatically as she stepped into the tent.

I leaned against a nearby rock, fiddling with the camera I’d borrowed from the studio while she rummaged through racks of swimsuits and accessories. “Your element? Is that just code for finding new ways to annoy me?”

“No, my element means being absolutely stunning,” she shot back from inside the tent. “But I can multitask.”

I chuckled, adjusting the camera settings as I heard the rustle of fabric. “You’ve got about twenty minutes of good sunlight before we lose that golden hour glow, so try not to waste it coming up with comebacks.”

The tent flap opened slightly, and Iori peeked out, her lips curving into a sly smile. “Oh, Riku, you’ll want to take your time with this.”

Before I could respond, she stepped out in a two-piece swimsuit—a simple but elegant black number that hugged her figure in all the right ways. She struck a playful pose, placing one hand on her hip and tossing her hair over her shoulder.

“Well? Do I look camera-ready?” she asked, her tone light but her eyes searching mine.

I raised an eyebrow, deliberately dragging my gaze from her head to her toes. “You look like you’re about to cause some lifeguard emergencies.”

She laughed, walking closer and poking me in the chest. “Flatterer. You’re supposed to act professional, remember?”

“Who says I’m not being professional?” I shot back, grinning. “I’m just objectively stating the facts.”

Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “Mm-hmm. Objectively, huh? Should I be worried you’re getting distracted?”

“Not distracted,” I replied, lifting the camera and pretending to take a shot of her face. “Just… appreciating the subject matter.”

Iori took a step closer, tilting her head as she reached out to adjust my shirt collar, her fingers lingering just a little too long. “You know, Riku most photographers would be tripping over themselves to compliment me more. You’re surprisingly hard to fluster.”

I lowered the camera, meeting her gaze. “If I flattered you anymore, your ego might not fit in the frame.”

She gasped in mock outrage, then leaned in, her voice dropping to a playful whisper. “Careful, or I might start thinking you’re immune to my charms.”

“Who says I’m immune?” I replied, smirking.

That seemed to catch her off guard, just for a moment, before she laughed. “Touché. Alright, Mr. Smooth, let’s see if your photography skills are as sharp as your tongue.”

She spun around, walking toward the shoreline with an exaggerated sway in her hips. I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t help the grin spreading across my face as I followed her, camera in hand.

By the time we reached the water’s edge, she’d dropped into her first pose—one hand in her hair, the other brushing lightly against her thigh as she gazed out at the horizon.

“Ready when you are, Riku,” she called, her voice teasing. “Try to keep up.”

I lifted the camera, shaking my head. “Don’t worry, Iori. I’ve got you in my sights.”

“And here I thought I was the one doing the shooting,” she quipped, throwing a quick glance over her shoulder.

As I snapped the first few photos, the banter continued, her laughter blending with the sound of the waves.

Here’s the continuation with a detailed scene of the rest of the shoot, Iori’s heightened flirting, and her big reveal:

The shoot continued along the shoreline, with Iori shifting effortlessly between poses. Her movements were fluid, almost instinctive, as if the camera and the beach were extensions of her. But her banter never ceased, each comment laced with a flirtatious edge that kept me on my toes.

“Riku, make sure you get my good side,” she teased, turning slightly and giving me a playful wink.

“You don’t have a bad side,” I replied, my tone more automatic than intentional. I was too focused on framing the shot to think much about the words.

She froze mid-pose, her eyes widening for a split second before a sly smile spread across her lips. “Ooh, are you trying to sweet-talk me now?”

“Just stating facts,” I said, crouching slightly to catch the golden light hitting her profile. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Oh, it’s already there,” she quipped, tossing her hair. “But you should know, Riku, a girl like me has expectations when a guy talks to her like that.”

I paused, lowering the camera to give her a confused look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She just grinned and dropped into another pose, arching her back slightly as the waves lapped at her feet. “You’ll figure it out eventually,” she said with a sing-song lilt.

Her teasing continued as I directed her to move up the beach for more shots. Every step seemed intentional, every glance charged with something I couldn’t quite place.

“Riku, you’re awfully quiet,” she said as she adjusted the straps of her swimsuit. “Am I distracting you?”

I let out a small laugh, focusing the lens again. “I’m trying to do my job, Iori. Some of us actually take this seriously.”

“Oh, I’m taking it seriously,” she said, biting her lower lip as she leaned forward slightly, her hair falling into her face in a way that would make any photographer salivate. “I’m just wondering how serious you’re taking me.”

I sighed, shaking my head as I took another shot. “What’s gotten into you today? You’re acting… different.”

“Different good or different bad?” she asked, cocking an eyebrow as she stood and sauntered over to me.

“I don’t know yet,” I admitted, lowering the camera. “You’re just… really on me today. I don’t remember you being this—”

“Charming? Fun? Irresistible?” she interrupted, her grin turning wicked.

“—relentless,” I finished, trying to maintain my composure as she stepped into my personal space.

“Aw, poor Riku,” she cooed, reaching out to tug at the strap of my camera. “Am I making your job harder?”

“You’re making something harder,” I muttered under my breath, immediately regretting it when her eyes lit up with delight.

“Oh, what was that?” she asked, her voice dripping with amusement.

“Nothing,” I said quickly, taking a step back. “Let’s finish this shoot before we lose the light.”

By the time we wrapped up, the sun was dipping below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. Iori stood by the shoreline, letting the waves lap at her feet as I packed up the equipment.

“Thanks for stepping in today, Riku,” she said, her voice softer now but still playful. “I mean it.”

“Anytime,” I replied, slinging the camera bag over my shoulder. “You’re not a bad model to work with, even if you’re a bit of a handful.”

She laughed, turning to face me fully. “I’ll take that as a compliment. But, uh…” She hesitated for the first time all day, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her cover-up.

“But what?” I prompted, raising an eyebrow.

She took a deep breath, then smiled up at me, a mix of confidence and nervous energy in her expression. “I wasn’t just teasing you all day for fun, you know. I… actually wanted to ask you something.”

“Ask me what?”

“Go out with me,” she said simply, her eyes locking onto mine. “On a real date. Not as a model and photographer, but as…” She trailed off, then shrugged with a grin. “As two people who obviously have chemistry.”

I blinked, completely caught off guard. “Wait, is that what all of this was about?”

“Of course,” she said, crossing her arms. “What, did you think I just flirt with every guy I work with?”

“Honestly, with you, it’s hard to tell,” I admitted, scratching the back of my neck.

She laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “Fair enough. But I’m serious, Riku. What do you say? Dinner, drinks, maybe a walk on the beach—this time without a camera between us?”

I hesitated, my mind racing. The day had been such a whirlwind that I hadn’t even considered the possibility that her teasing might mean something more. But looking at her now, with the setting sun casting a glow around her, I couldn’t deny the pull I felt.

“Alright,” I said finally, a small smile tugging at my lips. “You win. Let’s see if you’re as charming off-camera as you are on.”

She beamed, her face lighting up in a way that made me momentarily forget how exhausted I was. “Oh, Riku, you’re in for a treat. I’m even better when it’s just the two of us.”

We ended up at a cozy seaside restaurant, the kind of place with dim lighting, ocean breezes, and candles flickering on every table. Iori had insisted on picking the spot, declaring that she wanted “something romantic but not too romantic.” Judging by the way she looped her arm through mine as we walked in, I had a feeling she leaned more toward romantic than not.

As soon as we were seated, Iori wasted no time making herself comfortable—both physically and emotionally. She leaned across the table, resting her chin in her hand, her soft smile never wavering as her other hand played idly with the hem of my sleeve.

“So, Riku,” she began, her voice dripping with warmth, “are you going to admit this is the best date you’ve been on in years, or do I have to keep working for it?”

I chuckled, shaking my head. “It’s not a competition, Iori.”

“Everything is a competition if you want it badly enough,” she shot back, her grin playful yet confident.

Before I could respond, she reached over and lightly traced her fingers along the back of my hand, sending a shiver up my spine. “Besides, I’m winning, aren’t I?”

“You’re definitely doing… well,” I said awkwardly, unsure how to navigate her relentless charm.

She laughed, a soft, melodic sound that seemed to light up the entire room. “Riku, you’re adorable when you’re flustered. I almost forgot how fun it is to mess with you.”

“You haven’t changed at all, have you?” I asked, leaning back in my chair.

“Not true,” she said, sitting up straighter. “I’ve grown a lot. I’m more poised, more sophisticated…” She trailed off, then smirked. “But I still love teasing you. Some things never change.”

Her words struck a chord, and before I knew it, we were reminiscing.

“I still remember the first time we worked together,” she said, her expression softening as she leaned closer.

I smiled at the memory, the edges of it still vivid in my mind. “Yeah, I was so nervous. You were my first gravure model, and I was completely out of my depth.”

“You didn’t show it,” she said, her voice gentle. “You were so focused, so professional. I remember thinking, ‘This guy’s different.’ Most photographers I worked with back then were either too shy or way too pushy. But you? You made me feel like a person, not just a… well, you know.”

“A model?” I teased.

“A pretty face,” she corrected, her gaze locking onto mine. “You treated me with respect, Riku. That’s rare in this industry.”

Her sincerity caught me off guard, and for a moment, I didn’t know what to say. Iori, ever perceptive, took advantage of my silence to scoot her chair closer, her hand finding its way to my arm.

“You know,” she said softly, her tone shifting, “I always wondered why we didn’t stay in touch more after that shoot. You left such an impression on me.”

I glanced at her, surprised. “I thought you’d forgotten about me. You were so busy back then, and I didn’t want to bother you.”

“Bother me?” she repeated, laughing lightly. “Riku, you’ve never been a bother. If anything, I’ve been waiting for years to run into you again.”

Her words hung in the air, heavy with meaning, and I felt something shift between us. Iori’s usual teasing demeanor had softened into something more vulnerable, more genuine.

As the evening wore on, Iori’s affection only grew. She reached out to brush imaginary lint off my jacket, rested her hand on mine whenever she laughed, and even leaned her head against my shoulder when the waiter brought our dessert.

“You’re really going all out tonight, aren’t you?” I asked, my voice light but my heart racing.

She tilted her head to look up at me, her eyes sparkling. “I just want you to know how much I’ve missed you.”

Her words hit me harder than I expected, and I found myself smiling despite the knot forming in my chest. “I missed you too, Iori. I didn’t realize how much until now.”

She grinned, her charm slipping back into play. “Good. Because I don’t plan on letting you disappear again.”

After we finished our meal, we walked along the beach under the moonlight, the sound of the waves filling the comfortable silence between us. Iori slipped her arm around mine, resting her head on my shoulder as we strolled.

“You know,” she murmured, her voice barely audible over the surf, “tonight feels like a dream.”

I glanced down at her, her soft features glowing in the moonlight. “Why’s that?”

“Because I finally got to spend time with you,” she said simply. “And I’m not just saying that. You’re… different, Riku. In a good way. You’ve always been different.”

Her honesty left me speechless, and for the first time that night, I felt the weight of her feelings sink in. Iori wasn’t just flirting for fun or teasing me out of habit—she genuinely cared.

As we reached the end of the beach, she stopped and turned to face me, her hands resting lightly on my chest. “So, what do you think?” she asked, her tone playful but her eyes searching mine. “Was this date worth the wait?”

I smiled, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from her face. “Yeah, it was. You were worth the wait, Iori.”

Her cheeks flushed, and for once, she seemed at a loss for words. Instead, she leaned in, her lips brushing against my cheek before pulling back with a shy smile.

“Good,” she whispered. “Because I plan on making up for lost time.”

And just like that, the teasing, the charm, and the nostalgia all fell into place, leaving me with one undeniable truth: I was falling for my old friend, and there was no turning back.

We head back to the hotel, and we head up to my room. Iori and I sit next to each other on the bed. Silence eats through the room as we try to find the words, but words weren’t found when Iori and my eyes lock she’s straddling me moments later. Her lips pointed like daggers as she kisses me all over. Her voice husky with lust,

“I need you Riku,” she whimpers. Her big puppy dog eyes stare at me innocently despite her demands being not so innocent. After she’s had her fill she pushes me off the bed her eyes are frantic. “Get your cock out,” she growls possessively as she lifts up her dress revealing an adorable set of light blue bra and panties. I lean in and kiss her.

She bites my lips in between kisses.

“Fucking get that cock out right now,” Iori growls again. I follow her instructions and as soon I pull out my cock she tears open her panties feverishly before lining me up with her entrance, “fuck you’re so hard for me,” Iori groans before locking her legs behind her hips and forcing me inside of her.

“Oh fuck you’re just as big as I had hoped,” she says as I bottom out into her tight cavern. I moan as lean around her. she smiles at me before saying, "Fuck take me." I slowly begin to thrust inside of her as he walls viciously clench me. I posseviely claw at her breasts as I continue to rut into her. she moans delirous before saying "God yes. I have been waiting for this for so long,"

I wrap my arms under her waist as I thrust deeply into her. Her big breasts jiggle and sway pleasantly as my thrust send undulations of pleasure throughout her body. I watch as her eyes roll back and she smiles at me grateful before pulling me in close.

"I missed you so much Riku" Iori moaned in my ear. I smiled before replying "I missed you too." she groans as my Cock hits deep into her womb,

"oh fuck I'm cumming she says, as she clenches my manhood in a futile attempt to milk it for all it's worth. I decided to keep going a she comes down despite her please to stop for a bit

"you wanted me to take you," I growl possesively and she moans overstimulated and overpleasured.

"Fuck then take me. Make me your woman," she moans repeatedly like a mantra. So I take her.

Iori arches her back so I can thrust deeper inside of her, and as her pussy clenches me she moans and says, "Fuck"

I groan as we lock eyes before saying, "You wanna have my kids, because I'm gonna breed you," Iori smiles as I thrust harder, and her pussy clenches me harder before saying,

"Fuck please. Make me a mommy," Her words send me over the edge as I explode inside of her. her walls clench my cock as I keep cumming inside of her. she groans satisfied as we both fall into my bed exhausted.

when I wake up the next day Iori is sucking my cock. she smiles and says, "part of you was already awake and I don't think you got a good enough taste of my body." I groan and she smiles before angling herself up. Her massive tits hover over my cock and Iori smiles. She lowered herself and wraps her breasts around my dick. Her soft and warm breasts overwhelmed me.

“Ah fuck. Oh god!” I moan out and Iori smiles.

"You like my tits?" she asks

"Fuck I love them… no scratch that I love all of you." I say as she continues fucking me with her boobs.

"Good then cum all over them." she says as I cum all over her tits. as my seed flies all over her face and chest she smiles and says, "you're my boyfriend now."

[ellesthots]

Fateful Beginnings

XII. “exceptionally qualified, equally eager”

parts: previous / next

plot: you receive both celebratory and sobering news which leaves you reeling; back in Gotham, Bruce Wayne solidifies his entrance into society.

pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x fem!reader

cw: 18+, bad health news, cancer, chemo, grief, doctor’s office, shock

words: 2.5k

You woke up the next morning remembering the conversation with your friends, replaying in your mind. You kept thinking about how you told them you'd fucked Bruce. You wished you hadn't. It was wrong. But you were never gonna see him again, and they were never going to tell. It would be too embarrassing for them that they weren't the ones to fuck him, and would never let themselves be outdone. They'd let the world continue to believe he was a virgin before admitting you'd managed to sleep with a billionaire. Outshining them wasn't a possibility.

You swung your legs off the bed and rubbed your eyes before walking out into the hallway. It was suspiciously quiet, with the usual hum of the TV absent. You started when you turned into the kitchen to your parents holding a gift. It was a thick envelope with your name in sloping cursive, and your parents had hardly looked happier... besides when the anonymous benefactor, likely Bruce (you cringed hard at his name) has somehow managed to pay off the family's medical debt. "Here honey," your mother hurried toward you and you took the envelope. Walter ran in between your dad's legs and hopped up on the bed. You laughed and started opening it. "Even he seems excited."

Your fingers nearly cut on the thick cardstock. You pulled out a card in the shape of a graduation hat, and out fell a small slip. It twirled down and made Walter pounce, and you had a game of cat and mouse for a minute before you read the stub. Delta Airlines: SEA—GCA. You looked up but they just urged you to read the card. "Congratulations Y/N! Excited to see you walk at graduation. Love, Mom and Dad." What?? I get to walk? But how?

The next fifteen minutes indulged them explaining that they'd bought tickets last night and went to the store on the way home from their friend's barbecue. "After all the money we saved we could finally afford it. And your father picked out a beautiful hotel for us right next to the airport." The rush of positive feelings left as quickly as they came, lasting not a second longer than your parents shutting the door on their way out. A murkiness settled in your stomach. You didn't plan on ever returning to Gotham. Your parents had never been there either. You hoped you'd never have to deal with its hustle and bustle again. But you were their only child, and you were at least happy that they were happy.

Bruce sat in his wool overcoat in a small, stuffy office on a hard, narrow chair. His thighs were threatening to burst it, and the arms were cutting into his abdomen. He forced a smile to the school secretary as he waited for the university president to arrive. His eyes trailed to the cobwebs in the corner, the dusty books by the window, and eventually the stained carpeting. Our tax dollars pay for this? Alfred needs to know about this so he can get in touch with—no. He stopped himself. Those were his duties now, gone were the days of offloading all public contact to his butler while he kept to his sanctuary. Thankfully, GU's president burst through the doors at that very moment.

"Mr. Wayne! My God! Never in a million years did I think to see you in these halls." The woman was beaming, and Bruce stood up to shake her hand. Even her vigor didn't help the smile he plastered on be any less forced. "Pleasure is all mine, Ms...?"

"Janay Vry, former journalism department head." Her gray bob brushed along the tips of her shoulders. A thought sprinted across his mind. Journalism. Y/N. To bring it up or to not? "I heard you met with one of my students, Ms. Y/L/N."

She beat him to it. "Yes, I apologize. I was unreasonably busy that day. I hope she found another suitor." Y/L/N. Y/L/N. Didn’t quite fit you. It repeated in his mind like a mantra, and reminded him of combing through the commencement… She opened her mouth to speak, and his eyes snagged on an owl pin on her lapel. He'd never seen that before, and it stalled his train of thought.

"So, Mr. Wayne." Ms. Vry sat in the secretary's chair as she shuffled out, looking a bit nervous. He forced his face to remain pleasant as his mind began to investigate. Why was he drawn to that? What energy was it bringing? Did it symbolize anything? "What brings you here today?"

He sat up a bit in his chair, feeling the early stages of bruising as the wood tore at his sides. The right arm was snagging on a particularly thick scar. "Well," He never thought he would say these words, but he needed a platform. An entrance. "I know how late minute this is, so I understand if this is no possibility. I was wondering if I could be a commencement speaker for this year's ceremony." The shaky grin he mustered made him want to slam into a wall. This is so forced. Can she tell?

Ms. Vry had a visible, startled reaction to his question. "Mr. Wayne, wow," she shook her head in disbelief. "Of course, of course." Her smile could've reached her ears, and she started listing off the date, time, and gathering space for the speakers to arrive at prior to the event. "And of course we will amp up security. Yes, I'll get started on that this evening."

Bruce left the halls of GCU with a few pamphlets and a worn jaw. Smiling shouldn't hurt that much. He wondered how long he could keep this act up, and if this was all one big mistake he'd have to forever run away from. It felt like it, as his disheveled self jogged down the concrete steps to a fishbowl of citizens shouting and taking photos. Of course they found me. Christ.

He stared forward at the car, pretending no one was there. He needed this event as a more natural entrance into society. Announcing the Wayne's direct involvement in the city once again. He could imagine the headlines now and imagined how proud his parents might be of him. That was all that mattered. Continuing the Wayne legacy. Doing what my parents never could. He was doing the right thing, and he was utilizing the tools at his disposal. There were areas of society Bruce Wayne could reach that Batman could never, and vice versa. Why didn't I consider this sooner? As he sidled into the driver's seat and relaxed into the tinted windows, he remembered why. He loathed being on display.

The next few days you spent spending time with your family and journaling about losing your entire friend group. It hurt you, more than you even wanted to admit to yourself. Sure, they weren't very good friends, but it was scary staring down the barrel at your only social contacts being your parents. You scrolled around on Bumble for a few hours every day until you ended up hitting a week of being home and days of the most boring conversations you'd ever endured. Your dad had ordered another celebratory pizza, but it felt less fun to not have anyone to text about it.

You still didn't have many answers about your mother's cancer. Later that day was her second chemo appointment since you'd come back, and you offered to drive your mother and take her in yourself. Your dad declined, and said the three of you could all go as a family. It was nice he wanted to stay with her, but it also meant this was more serious. He likely wanted to spend as much time with her as possible. You tried not to think about why.

Pulling up to the clinic, you told your dad to head into the room with your mom. "I'm gonna talk to the doctor for a minute." You went to the receptionist and requested Dr. Righan. The receptionist directed you to a room just down the hall. "He'll meet you in consultation."

You waited anxiously to hear how bad it was while simultaneously indulging your last moments of ignorance. Her weight loss is unrelated. Her walker and wheelchair use is unrelated. Just aging stuff. Maybe she has a bad back like grandma. Yeah, that's it. She's just doing another round of chemo for good measure.

You blinked and it was over. As you came back into your body you saw the door swinging shut behind the doctor who had just come in and delivered the news: it was worse than you thought. Your mother was starting chemo to try and buy her some time before seeing if she got accepted into this clinical trial. "Your mother is exceptionally qualified, and equally eager," the graying man in the white coat had said. "Unfortunately, everyone else is too."

The drive home had you in a haze. Your parents were in the front seats still gushing over how they didn't have to pay at the end of the session, but you couldn't pay attention. The clinical trial roulette was a month from today; in the world's most desperate game of Bingo, random names would be drawn. Half would be assigned a control, half would be assigned the medicine. You couldn't bear the thought of her getting a placebo, but you couldn't bear the thought of her not getting in at all. The doctor had tried to taper her excitement, letting her know most people were not going to be picked. It stung, and left you in a haze for the rest of the night.

At about nine in the evening your dad went for a quick stop at the grocery store. He peeked his head in your room where you sat at your desk, furiously journaling, and asked if you wanted anything. Saying no, he left with an announcement he wouldn't be more than 15 minutes. Finally alone in the house with your mother practically since her initial diagnosis, you wandered to the living room where she sat in a large rocking chair, tucked into an enormous throw blanket. She smiled when you sunk into the couch beside her. "Are you excited to go to graduation?"

No. I'm not excited about anything. I want you to not be sick. "Yeah! It's really exciting, it'll be fun to be back." Your smile was fake as plastic. What if this was the last family trip? The last time on an airplane together? You wanted to go to Fiji, with the white sand and warm water for her to sink into. Paradise, not Gotham. She was genuinely excited however. "Oh I can't wait for you to walk across that stage. Your father is going to cry buckets. Buckets!"

That night you sat at your desk and scribbled more in your journal, now on your twentieth page. Why does she have to be sick. Why does it have to be so bad? Why do I have to go back to Gotham? Gotham. Bruce. I hope he doesn't find me. Maybe he will. He seems to get out more now, more likelihood to see him... ugh. Not the time. And the money thing. How do I bring that up? I don't even know if it was him. Maybe it was Alfred. I don't know. Ugh. How am I even gonna walk in my heels? I don't really want to wear sneakers. Maybe I should? Maybe I should just be myself, and stop trying to fit in? Who cares what I wear to my own graduation? Shouldn't I only care about my own opinion? My head is swirling. Graduation is so soon. You decided to stop writing, since it was getting nowhere. Just jotting down the myriad of thoughts clanking around your skull, and it was keeping you up. The next few days were job hunting, and you needed to look adequately rested... even if it was the last thing you were truly feeling.

No. No. And more no. Every business within a thirty mile radius hadn't even accepted a resume. It hadn't been this way before you left for Gotham a few years back. Your parents were all happy little birds back at home, basking in the glory of having their medical debt paid. "You don't have to worry about getting a job right now hun," your dad had said a few days prior. "Let yourself relax." But you couldn't. Having the money burden gone was a massive relief, sure, but it was a material thing, and you were grappling with potentially having to lose someone. A parent. A mother. There was hardly space for rejoicing.

The morning of graduation you'd forgotten all about it, being woken at four in the morning to head to the airport. The time difference, shit. Your mother's friend from church was dropping you all off, babbling on and on about the local gossip. "And oh my stars, you just wouldn't believe the old Scott girl. Baby number two. With TWO fathers!" You attempted to drown her out via some self-soothing humming, which only drew the attention to you. "And you missy! Why, you're not twenty-six without a ring on your finger! Meet anyone in..." she paused and visibly shuddered, spitting out the word Gotham to finish her pestering. You suppressed an eyeroll. Gotham would eat her alive.

You successfully dodged succeeding questions and found yourself at arrivals. Your parents had a fast-pass through TSA, making boarding surprisingly pleasant. You sat between your mom and dad, trying not to think about landing in a city you thought you'd left far behind.

"Good afternoon passengers, this is your pilot speaking. We are pulling into the terminal in approximately three minutes, so please prepare for landing. Weather is partly-cloudy, with a high of sixty degrees. It is 3pm local time. Thank you for flying with Delta Airlines." Your dad awoke with a strong snore, your mom rustling in her light sleep. "Oh my, already?" She yawned, rolling up her knit blanket into her carry on. "Honey, do they have the wheelchair ready?"

Wheelchair? You still weren't used to it. Wheelchairs aren't bad, you reminded. They're accessible. They help. It doesn't mean she's gonna drop dead tomorrow. Soon enough your dad was helping her into a cab while you wrestled with her chair and the luggage in the backseat of the accessible Uber. The smell stung your nostrils, the familiar taste of copper. The streets were mostly dry, as dry as they could ever get in the city. As you climbed into the passenger seat you briefly thought of the taut leather binding trimming Bruce's car's interior. Stop it. He doesn't exist.

[luneariaa]

just smth about you working at a cafe,, and higu pays you a visit. plot is almost going nowhere hshshs,, and yes this is as fluffy as it can get lmao.

. dividers by @/cafekitsune !! 🌻

The sounds of the bells ringing from atop of the entrance door caught your attention, which is a signal that someone has walked into the cafe that you’re currently working at. The cafe itself was actually being run by one of your friends, which she had offered you a place to work there back then. 

Upon noticing the familiar face of your beloved, a happy smile immediately made its way to your face; hands automatically starting to brew some fresh hot coffee for him as usual. Higuruma didn’t need to tell you anything– you always knew his favourite drink whatsoever. 

Heck, even making some of his favourite sandwiches out of love for him. The dark-haired attorney always appreciates your efforts in ways that you possibly imagined.

By the time he’s about to make some order by the counter, you have already placed the coffee in front of him– which always, and always managed to catch him by surprise, before thanking you for your sweet and thoughtful gesture.

Higuruma sips on his coffee slowly after finding a rather reserved seat just nearby where you are; trying to savour the taste of it, yet his eyes couldn’t resist from glancing at your form occasionally. You were always so hardworking to him, and it’s one of your main traits that he finds captivating. 

“What’s with the stare?” You let a small chuckle out of you, now noticing how he begins to not shy away his constant gaze at you. He returns the same chuckle, propping one hand atop of the counter and rests his head there.

“What, I can’t appreciate looking at you and admiring your beauty?” Higuruma replies in a slightly lower tone, yet with a hint of teasing, as if to make sure you’re the only one who heard it closely.

“That’s kinda sappy,” you laughed humorously, yet also finding it actually sweet. “I appreciate that.”

His breath begins to hitch in his throat when you decide to do a bit of a bold move– gradually and slightly leaning your face closer to his, but still leaving some space for him to breathe.

“Could say the same to you, Mr. Lawyer.” 

His reaction actually satisfies you once you retreat from your initial stance; getting him all flustered that he had to loosen his tie a bit, and the clearing of his throat. Luckily, by some miracle, no one saw it.

But your co-worker friend has sent you a cheeky grin from afar, letting you have your moment alone with him, even though your shift is almost over. She’s the sweetest.

“Not so sappy when it’s just the truth.”

“But still..” You both shared a heartwarming laugh with one another. At least, you’re here to make him try to forget about his stresses from earlier cases.

“I’m not gonna take back what I’ve been saying though,” Higuruma grins lovingly at you. “I think your hard work alone would put even my skills to shame.”

“Nah, don’t sell yourself short!”

“Did anything happen today?” You finally changed the topic with another, wanting to know about your beloved instead as you gazed at him intently. All the while placing your hand atop of his as a sign of unspoken comfort.

“Got a quite difficult case today actually,” he shrugs and slouches over slightly; grasping back onto your hand with an equal affection underlying within it. 

“It’s just the usual client stuff, don’t worry. I’m handling it alright so far, but enough about me. How are things going here? How are you doing?”

A quiet exhale came from you by his answer. Even when his day isn’t really going well, he always has you in his mind instead– a trait that you find endearing, but it didn’t manage to stop the feeling of concern from resurfacing for his well-being.

“Everything’s going well here, don’t worry about me.”

“I’m so sorry that you had a rough day,” you gave your beloved a sympathetic smile. “Is there anything I can do about it?”

“Well–” His thumb brushes along your knuckles ever so tenderly, as if he’s afraid of possibly hurting you in the process. “--your presence alone is already enough for me, I promise you.”

“Just a little tired, that is. But it’ll pass soon; I’ve worked through tougher cases before.”

Knowing all too well that any attempt to shot back his statement will be futile, you eventually sighed in agreement. “Just don’t be too harsh on yourself.”

He merely nodded, not wanting to worry you any further, and lifts one of your hands up to his lips– pressing a soft kiss on it, which is enough to make you a bit of a flustered mess from his actions alone. You’re highly aware that it might be hard for him to try and do so; knowing how much of a passionate man he can be, especially anything about justice. 

“Are you able to wait for a bit more? My shift will end soon.” You tell while your eyes checked on the clock that’s hanging on the wall. “Or if you have to go back to work– I’m alright with it.”

The dark-haired attorney only gave a slight, comforting shake of his head. “Well, I do have to get some stuff back in the office.”

“I don’t think anyone’s around there at this time, so we can go there together. It won’t take long.”

“Then, we can grab some dinner outside tonight. How’s that sound?”

And who could’ve refuse such offer? It sounds amazing already for the both of you.

“That’s a deal then!”

© 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚜.

[foreverisntenough]

‘OURS’

Summary: You were his and he was yours but what would it be like adding one more? Thrust into a whirlwind romance you never could’ve imagined that became your forever love. You continue building a new life across the pond with a very beautiful Scouser. A sequel to the ‘You’re Mine’ fic.

INDEX

Warnings: This series is 18+ and will contain fluff, suggestion, SMUT (unprotected sex,) pregnancy, parenting, mental health struggles, eating disorder, self doubt, body image issues, daddy kink, angst, alcohol consumption - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series! Try not to nitpick with any real pregnant/ baby logistics it’s better if you just read along happily :)

Chapter 27 - In Magazines and On TV | ‘Ours’

word count - 9.2 k

When you heard the doorbell of the house ring throughout the rooms echoing, your heart almost dropped. It was the day of your interview for British GQ. Trent had gone to training already in the morning and you had been sitting impatiently in your kitchen waiting for Bentley Brown to arrive for what felt like hours at this point since. 

“Hi, I’m so happy to have you. Come in, come in. Erm… it’s just Teddy and I here at the moment. Trent should be home a little later on. I apologize if she’s in the way, we’re not keen on babysitting currently but anyhow, can I get you anything? I put out a spread but anything really, I can get.” You babbled nervously letting Mr. Brown and a small team of people in through the foyer of your house. You had set up all sorts of drinks and light bites in your dining room for him and his team but you were just worried, no amount of preparation or niceties would calm you.  

“Y/N, we’re perfectly fine. Thank you for having us. I’m really looking forward to speaking. We’ll just have a conversation, keep it relaxed. Not to worry.” He smiled sensing your nerves, following you into your living room that you had meticulously cleaned and arranged to be set for the interview down to correctly aligning the large books just the right way on your coffee table.  

“We can sit in the living room. If that’s alright.” You sat down on the boucle couch in your living room pulling your legs up onto the couch bathed in sunlight. You sat there fidgeting, worried how the words coming out of your mouth would look in print. Suddenly the dark washed denim jeans you were in felt incredibly constricting. He came with a personal assistant and a camera as well as a sound guy to record the conversation. Tyler said he would stop by at some point to make sure everything was fine. He had already really managed the entire operation for you. You didn’t need a ‘manager’ day to day but this was a big opportunity so he was just taking care of you as his sister and organizing this interview. It was massive this was happening so you prayed it went well.  

You sat in the office of your home at a big desk in the dark illuminated by the your mac’s screen as you read the edit of Mr. Brown’s piece that would be going to print soon weeks later. You read line by line and tried your best to view it as a third party and not be critical of how you sounded in it. 

- article snippet -

'When I first met Y/N. I immediately thought what a beautiful woman. It was no surprise she was entangled in a relationship with a professional footballer. It took me by surprise though when Trent Alexander-Arnold introduced her as his fiancé, now his wife after a wedding in New York this summer. She was kind, polite, had an infectious laugh, and really seemed to have a way about her that left you wanting more. More of what you ask? That’s exactly what I wanted to know. What made the person standing next to a highly regarded athlete more interesting and drawing. That’s not to say he is not but she was a mysteriously demure yet electric and people noticed.  When she walked in, every man’s head turned. Isay this with great mind to the people they are but externally the pair turns heads. They are beautiful and beautifully matched with the other drowning in the luxuries of their lifestyle in a way that has you paying attention. There’s minimal logo mania or flashy pieces that are trending. It’s all curated and quiet, as are they. Timelessly woven and carefully chosen. I arrived at the newlywed Alexander Arnold home in the greater Manchester area. A large estate tucked far back on a property in a private neighborhood. The Liverpool fullback insisted that he ‘Just wanted a place with good bones’ but this place is much more than that. I had asked Y/N where she might feel most comfortable to speak with me and she was quick to tell me none of this was comfortable for her but she’d love to have me come to their home. That was her safe space.

Y/N sat on a boucle couch in their modern minimalist living room across from me. It felt like an ad. No, the photoshoot wasn’t today, this was simply her. When I had the chance to speak to Trent alone he shook his head in disbelief telling me that his wife ‘hasn’t got a clue the effect she has on people.’ I initially had a hard time believing him but became aware of her naivety quickly watching her adjust her posture that didn’t need so, her perfectly manicured hands pull at her glossed lip, even the way she spoke had you slightly transfixed and it was the innocent yet sincere nature of it all that had you hooked. She pulled her legs up onto the couch. In dark denim, barefeet, and a tank top. Her slender frame model-esque, the jewelry dripping off her clinking every time she moved exposing her very monetarily comfortable life. Although maybe not all that comfortable. 

‘When he’s away it’s difficult. I am, we are, so lucky to have the support we do from family, friends, and the club. There are mornings or days when he’s in another time zone and I feel like a single mum momentarily but I hardly experience what they might. It’s definitely a bit of a reality check when you feel frustrated and you turn on the Telly and there he is. You know when the final whistle blows he’s returning to you. We FaceTime as much as we can. It’s hard on him as well to miss so much time away from her.” Referring to their daughter. “We travel to games if it makes sense or aligns with schedules. When she starts going to school obviously that will change but probably be a bigger adjustment for me but we deffinetly spend a lot of time on planes and at stadiums.”

“What’s that like? Does it ever feel groupie-esque?”

“I suppose. It can be hard to take a step back from it all when you’re so immersed in it. I try to view it like any other job or career anyone’s partner might have.”

“But it’s far from that and I’d go as far to say maybe even slightly more rewarding.”

“True. I mean I didn't mean to say it to diminish how accomplished he is. I couldn’t be more proud of him. More in awe of what he does. He deserves what he receives. I was unaware of the hierarchy within the sport though. The separation of treatment of players and clubs so it’s all relative what is seen as a reward. I feel like he and our family is the reward as cheesy as that sounds. I think the fans, the media, the frenzies that ensue is when I feel most groupie-esque like you said. There’s definitely plenty of times where I get stopped at a door, asked who I am, all sorts of things because as much as we share a life together it is very much his world. As it should be.” 

“You believe that it’s his world. Not a shared experience?” 

“Oh it’s definitely a shared experience but from completely different perspectives. I’m not in the dressing rooms, I’m not on the pitch, I’m not at training. I didn’t put in the sacrifice he did and still does. I’ve always said, I think I mentioned this to you when you first broached this interview, I haven’t really done anything to merit the same adoration or affection and unfortunately the criticism he receives. I make sacrifices like we all do in relationships. I didn’t love the idea of a summer wedding but when he’s in season he’s in season and that’s the way it is.” 

“Her coquettish laugh echoed through their home and I hated to break that sound and her light demeanor but I wanted to know the answer to a hard question. 'Does that ever feel disheartening to feel that way? That football has to take a priority in his life.” 

“Erm… The thing is football is a priority because it’s our entire life, everything revolves around it but I certainly don’t resent that. That said, I’m human, of course, I have my days. I am really fortunate to live the life I do but just the same way I wonder about his experiences as he does for mine. He never has been an adult unknown.”

“An adult unknown… sounds like a book title. Are you saying that in a critical way?”

“Maybe I’d use that as a title if I wrote one. I identify with it a lot.'" The sound of her laugh returned. "Growing up in Manhattan you experience this unbelievable juxtaposition going from completely anonymous on the street to receiving invitations to galas.”

“Not everyone is receiving invitations. In part a reason I am curious about her and I’m not the only one. When you google Y/N Alexander-Arnold plenty of articles emerge about her and her husband. Mostly surrounding his matches, paparazzi photos, notably the ones that shed light on their relationship years ago in a Manchester club or on a yacht in Greece with the Bellinghams, occasionally a touch point on something they have chosen to share with the public but if you dig a little deeper a click or two further appears a very interesting read. The Y/L/N family rooted in the New York City socialite scene, a dynastic surname, academic accolades at her university, her mother a philanthropist, a career in fashion, her name mentioned in articles, Getty images of her at parties, and peculiarly she never mentions any of it at all.” 

“But no, not in a critical way at all. He just entered into the spotlight before he even turned 18. An introspective lens or spotlight focused on him. I wouldn’t say I got away with things but I probably did comparatively. He couldn’t have done the things I did growing up without scrutiny.' I smiled at her because her humility is both charming and glaring a lie. Y/N was far from what one might consider ‘out of the spotlight.’”

“Now you say growing up… You’re American as you said, manhattan born. Have you adapted or adjusted to life in the UK?” 

“I’d like to think so but there is always an odd day where I say ‘band aid’ instead of ‘plaster’ and my daughter or Trent will give me stick. Although, it wasn’t entirely foreign to me but also moving to another country comes with a lot more than an adaptation to accents and vocabulary. I’m fine, I think I am at least."    

Another thing that stuck out to me in my search engine deep dive about the new Mrs. Alexander-Arnold had been her English background but I wondered more about her present than her past. Trent arrived home in the middle of our interview. Watching their exchange felt like you were in a film. Their daughter Teddy 's bare feet pitter pattering to the front door eager to greet her dad. Trent quietly snuck into the room first greeting his wife. They were magnetic. None of it a show. Nothing contrived.  His hand held her face in a way that made you question what love really was all before he pressed a kiss to her lips. He held their young daughter in his arms and she wrapped herself around him. He adjusted his hold of her before shaking my hand apologizing for interrupting. This is what I was so eager to understand. The man of the house turned to his wife and whispered in her ear asking if she was okay. I was interested in the protective nature but I understood it from the viewpoint that he was no longer a footballer, he was a father and husband. She squeezed his arm with a kiss to his cheek. Teddy adamant about receiving one as well. Y/N returned her focus back to me with an apology. 

I managed to finagle a way of getting Trent to sit with us. Teddy was now comfortably asleep in her mum’s arms. They were picturesque. I sound redundant but it pings in your brain every time you blink. 

“I really didn’t want to sit for this if I am being honest, I want this to be for her. Not in believing I could take focus off her, I mean.’ He gestured to his wife still in awe 5 years in. ‘But I get to see her everyday. I understand how incredible she is and I think more people should know.”’

Trent said that and I wondered why the secrets then. Why the push for privacy. 

“I think firstly it’s a safety thing. It’s a terrible reality but we have to be conscious of it especially with Ted." Ted's nickname that they’ve fallen into the habit of 

“I definitely didn’t understand. I was offended at first. I’m not one for attention.’ The irony as she says that because she’s had everyone captivated unintentionally. I don’t know if you remember.’ She looked at Trent” 

“I deffo remember. You weren’t thrilled and I looked horrible."

‘You didn't, I just didn’t understand. I remember leaving Anfield for the first time and camera flashes flooded the car. It was so jarring. People talking about you, sharing your image in such a strange experience."

- end of article snippet -

You closed your laptop and sighed, that was enough reading. The article was set to be published in an issue come December and you prayed that what you just read and the rest would be perceived well. You did a photoshoot for the piece at your house as well later that past week. You laid on the same couch you’d done the interview on. Trent was lying beneath you shirtless in a pair of trousers. You dragged your lips up his abs teasingly. The photographer asked you to do it again, apparently it made a good photo, you seemingly tickled Trent causing him to laugh. You giggled with a smile keeping your lips on his skin as the shutters flashed in the big room with his hands on you. Another set of photos were taken in the kitchen with you wearing a pink shimmering sequined column gown with a center floral appliqué along its halter neckline. The luxurious dress was juxtaposed by the causal feeling of being in your kitchen pretending to be cooking in it. Trent held you in his arms dressed in a suit having a taste of a little something off your finger. It was sweet and cheeky and a funny play on what your home life actually looked like. In one other setting, the magazine had Trent run on the turf in your back garden with you dressed in a cotton Mui Mui blue set thrown over his shoulder with Teddy chasing after you two giggling away. The last shot of the piece was you alone upstairs in the en suite of your bedroom. You stood in your mirror leaned forward onto the vanity applying a lip gloss in a pair of jeans unbuttoned in a Sandy Liang bra top. All in all you were happy with how they turned out and still a little amazed that they were going to be published in British GQ for everyone to see. You idolized fashion magazines growing up so the fact that you were going to be in one was bizarre. You’d been mentioned in the Mail or the Sun time and time again with Trent since you began dating but this would be tangible in your hands, this was an article with quotes from your mouth.

In the following days, marking the middle of November, Winnie had flown over which was lovely. She was on her way to Germany to see Jadon. It wasn’t the most sensible way to get there but she wanted to see your little fam so she stopped over in England first. George popped over to your house as well after Trent had come home from training. You were currently cooking dinner for the four of you and a slightly modified version of it for Teddy. 

“What are we having for dinner, baby?” Trent asked, coming into the kitchen, Teddy trailing behind him in giggles holding onto his joggers. You loved cooking dinner at home. A lot of times you had Trent’s personal chef come over to cook for him because he needed personal dietary needs but when he could just eat as normal without a match the following day you loved to make family dinners. 

“Trent, you're an adult cook for yourself.” Winnie snapped, teasingly. She was just giving him a hard time, of course. That was the banter that was bound to ensue once they were in the same room. They loved the odd jab. As girly as Winnie was, they treated each other like they were brothers. It felt like you were healing a lot of things you never got to handle during your childhood from the family you had created. You and Trent were really close with each other's siblings and friends, so having things like dinners in your warm cozy home just healed a piece of yourself. You and Winnie didn’t get to have a lot of them growing up. Dinner rarely included your dad, he was traveling, your mum, usually moderating portion sizes and it was fairly often that either you or Winnie was missing from the table, busy out and about. 

“Oh fuck off, Win!” Trent quipped with a laugh cupping his hands over Teddy’s ears. She giggled not fully grasping that it wasn’t a game he was playing but that he didn’t want her to hear his curse words. You guys were very ‘pick and choose’ when it came to cursing in front of Teddy, it was a case by case scenario. Some days it was the end of the world if she caught one, other days you didn’t even bat your eyes.

“Teddy, do you like daddy’s food? Like when I cook?” Trent uncovered her ears and crouched down in front of her. You turned away from the stove and Winnie spun on her chair to listen to her answer with smug smiles. Trent didn’t cook all that often. It was either his chef or you making him food, it used to be Dianne but he could make toast or eggs, a pasta or something for Teddy when he needed to. 

“What food, dada?” Teddy asked him in return with her cute pout agape. Her brow furrowed. You think she was trying to clarify which dish he was referring to but the response was hilarious. Winnie was quick to laugh, you attempted to bite your lip.

“Ted, don't do me like that.” Trent laughed, palming his face as he shook his head in front of her. He pulled her into his embrace and stood up, picking her up in his arms. 

“Fine, whose music do you like better though?” He asked her with a coy smile brushing his thumb over her cheek. He flicked his eyes to George as if to say ‘see, I’ll win this one.’ Trent definitely fell into a more lenient parenting style than you. If Teddy wanted to listen to pop or rap as opposed to some children's bop he’d happily obliged especially if there were his friends or teammates in the car. 

“No, no, no! That’s not fair, T. You let her listen to things she shouldn’t be.” You yelped out pausing her answer. Trent whipped his head back to Teddy after he turned to look at you kissing his teeth at your interruption. 

“You told?!? You ratted on me to mummy?” Trent laughed pretending to be shocked. He gave her a faux surprised face or maybe not all that fake. He didn’t know Teddy had told you but he had assumed you’d probably know just through just a mum’s intuition. 

“Nos.” Teddy giggled. Trent tilted his head at her knowing she was lying to him. Lying was a no go in your household but it was cute the times that she did do it. “Georgey too.” Teddy giggled some more, hugging Trent around his neck.  George let out an offended gasp.

“Oh, so you’re not only ratting on me, you’re also ratting on George. Ratted on us to mummy.”  Trent laughed, kissing her, rubbing his big hand up her back. You shook your head. Trent telling your daughter she had ‘’ratted’ on him was as childish as it was cute. 

“Don't you cook for Sanch, Win?” You asked, turning your attention off of Trent, George, and Teddy’s conversation that turned more into them giggling away, Trent tickling her before he put her down on the kitchen floor chasing her towards George.

“Erm no? I’m not doing that.” Winnie raised her brow confused like it was an insane question. Winnie wasn’t the most domestic nor did she really want to buy into that lifestyle. It wasn’t of interest to her.  She didn’t need to cook, frankly neither did you, but you liked to cook.  

“Winnie, shut up!.” You were trying not to laugh. You always wanted her to take an initiative to learn maybe more domestic things but it wasn’t for everyone and you needed to accept that.      

“What? Am I not allowed to say that?” Winnie questioned you resting her elbows on the marble island counter. She picked up her wine glass and swirled the liquid inside of it. You laughed and then took a deep breath in. 

“I mean…” You paused picking up your own wine glass with a silly smile teasing her. George scooped up a squealing Teddy with a laugh, the chaos continuing on in the kitchen. 

“I feel like I'm watching a reality show.” George quipped, giving Teddy a few kisses on her cheek before he picked up his own glass off the island before the water on the stove boiled over its pot after you had left it unattended.

“We are in a reality show.” Trent answered him surely, wiping Teddy’s cheek, nodding towards the stove seeing the pot steam and splash.  

“Oh shit…” You muttered in a panic seeing the water boil over despite Trent’s calm reaction. “What reality show are you watching, G?” You laughed trying to imagine what show George was watching, you couldn’t picture him doing that. Trent and George would love to tell everyone they were above reality telly but you knew better than that. Maybe George watched but Trent, you knew for sure. Trent would cave. He’d linger when you’d put ‘Celebs Go Dating’  or ‘Love Island’ on and then find himself cuddled up with you on the couch watching back to back episodes peppering you with questions about what was happening in the series.

“We should have one.” Winnie chimed in with maybe some seriousness to her comment. You all looked at her in disagreement. She laughed knowing it would cause a reaction. 

“No. we shouldn't.” You told her firmly turning back to tend to the pasta on the stovetop. You could never invite that type of lens into your life.

"You'll look sexy in a magazine and I know you'd look sexy on tv, I've seen your videos." Trent cheekily whispered behind you, coming to cage you in front of the stove. You giggled shaking your head at his innuendo. Yeah, sure, he'd seen a video of you with him and he'd be the only one to see it. One magazine publication was just about putting you over the edge, a reality show…never. Trent could keep his videos.

“I hate the rain. I don’t know how you live here.” Winnie quipped shivering in the stands at Anfield. You sat covered by the roof but still out in the cold late fall air as rain crashed down onto the pitch. 

“Win, I think you’ve said that every time you’ve ever visited.” You cooed to her, trying to smile and ignore the horrible horrible weather crashing down around you. The rain pelted onto the pitch. 

“Because it’s rained every time I’ve ever come.” Winnie complained, pulling the sleeves of her sweatshirt over her hands. You laughed, shaking your head, then turning when you heard the big glass door behind you slide open.

“Look at this little reason though. Hi baby! Did you get something yummy to eat with Marce and Ty?” You cooed spinning in your seat to see Teddy in Tyler’s arms in her little black Mocler puffer jacket and tiny white sambas kicking. They had kindly offered to take Teddy inside to get a snack before the game. You reached up and grabbed her from him and plopped her down onto your knee. She shoved a packet of apple crisps at you to show you. “Oh my goodness! These look so good. Will you share any with mummy?” You asked her and she nodded with a giggle. “ Thank you, Teddy girl. Do you see dada? Can you wave hi to him? We’ll blow him a kiss, okay?” You spoke gently to Teddy pointing down to the pitch where Trent was warming up with the team. Teddy followed the line of your finger to find him with a beautiful smile on her face mirroring his. You blew him a kiss and he returned it. You kissed her chubby cheek.   

“How do you know daddy isn’t waving to me, Ted?” Marcel chimed in with a cheeky laugh teasing Teddy from his place behind you. Teddy’s forehead wrinkled. She tilted her head towards him in confusion before falling into an adorably cute but offended pout. 

“No, Celly. Waving to Teddy.” She corrected him crawling across your lap to get closer to him in the seat next to you. She sat in the red plastic seat holding onto the back of it staring back at him in disagreement. 

“Well, what about mummy then? Is he not waving to her? Daddy only waves to you. Maybe he’s blowing a kiss to us as well.” Marcel pushed his argument a little further, moving his face to be directly in front of hers, squatting down to her level, their noses pressing to each other. His smug smile frustrating Teddy.

“Oh…” Teddy replied, taking a pause to think about what Marcel was telling her, taking in all the possibilities. Maybe it was true.  “Waves to mama and Teddy, tay?” She cooed, correcting him once more that Trent was in fact waving to you and her, not him. 

“Oh Marce, stop. It’s for you, baby. Daddy is waving to his good luck charm, huh?” Dianne cooed, plucking her up from the seat. Marcel moved to take a seat next to Winnie with Tyler. You got up and moved to the empty seat Teddy was in towards Dianne. 

“Yeah, baby. You're daddy’s good luck charm. Think he will win today?” You cooed, wiping your thumb over Teddy’s cheek. You weren’t sure how much she really understood after a win or a loss so it wasn’t that she was particularly lucky for Trent to win a match but she was definitely very comforting to him after any result. 

“Yeah huh, mama. Dada win!” She yelped excitedly as the players began to line up ahead of kick off. She pointed down to the pitch excitedly. Last season she couldn’t really hold her attention all that long but now it was slightly better. You were able to have her occupied trying to ‘find daddy’ on the pitch most of the match, of course interspersed with plenty of snacks and cuddles. 

“Can you tell me what you think the score will be?”  You asked her, zipping her coat up a little bit more. She kicked her legs off Dianne’s lap playfully thinking for a moment. 

“Five!” She squealed with a giggle when you tickled her tummy. Five was just a number she was loving at the moment mostly because she was working her way up counting and doing simple maths. You weren’t sure why that number was sticking. It didn’t really pertain to the actual result of the match which was cute. She just wanted to impress you. 

“Five what?” You laughed with a big smile continuing to squeeze at her. 

“Don’t knows…” She giggled, not being able to defend her answer. The ref blew the whistle and the first half began. You kissed her cheek encouragingly accepting five as an answer to the what the score would be. 

“Who do you think will score, Teddy girl?” Dianne asked her craning around her, pressing her cheek to hers. 

“My dada.” She answered confidently, very sure Trent was the best footballer in the world. You thought so as well but you both probably had a bit of a biased opinion. 

“I don’t know, maybeee we’ll see.” You laughed. The likelihood of Trent scoring was an odd one. Like it was possible but you didn’t want to get Teddy’s hopes up. The game ticked on and you continued peppering her with silly questions until you had one for Dianne. “Di, what do you think about one more?” You cooed, turning towards her in your seat setting down an antsy Teddy trying to run over to Winnie, Tyler, and Marcel who were coyly provoking her from afar. You plopped her down and she took off. 

“What! Are you pregnant?” Dianne suppressed a shocked yelp, harshly whispering. You weren’t totally sure why but it just had been on your mind a lot lately. Teddy was getting older and you and Trent had always said you wanted more kids but you didn’t know when you’d do that and you wanted her opinion because her boys were fairly spaced out. 

“No, no, no, I'm just, you know, curious what your thoughts were.” You cooed calmly with a smile. The thought of having another little cutie running about at matches was really adorable but it definitely rang in the back of your mind how scared you were of the actual pregnancy. She gave you her opinion but it was fairly vague and encouraging. She just said she’d be there for you, no matter what happened. Ninety-five minutes later and Trent’s post match media duties later Trent made his way up to you all. He plucked Teddy out of your arms giving her a big kiss but Teddy was disinterested holding onto a pout, turning from him. 

“Ted, what’s with the attitude, baby? What’s happening?”  Trent asked her rubbing his nose to her cheek. She remained steadfast recalling Marcel’s earlier comments before the game. 

“Baby, have to tell daddy if you’re upset, okay? Can’t just be in a huff with him.” You tried not to giggle but her pouty face was kind of funny especially considering it was identical to his “Are you upset about who daddy was waving to before the match?” You asked Teddy and she nodded with a humph.  “Apparently, you blew a kiss to Marce.” You informed Trent since Teddy seemingly wasn’t going to. 

“Oh baby bear… Trust me that's just for you. I promise.” He looked at her, turning her head towards him by her chin then looking for Marcel in the room with a glare. Getting Teddy to believe something wasn’t exactly a difficult task so Marcel had convinced her fairly easily. “I’ve never blown a kiss to Celly in my life. Just for my Teddy, alright?” Trent confirmed bringing his attention back to her.  

“And mama?” Teddy asked Trent, making sure that you and her were the only people his pre match kisses were for. You thought it was sweet she wanted to include you. 

“And mama too. Just for my Alexander-Arnold girls, okay?” He cooed, pulling you by the belt of your jeans into him. He kissed your temple. You wrapped your arms around his waist and leant your forehead to rest against Teddy’s.   

“I miss you, baby.” You whined, dragging your body to lay on top of Trent in the cinema the day after the match. Trent usually did bare minimum after match days so he was just hanging out but you were desperately missing him despite him being at home with you. You were craving a cuddle with him. You nuzzled up to him saying nothing really, just snuggling into him. 

“Wow, hello, you. You haven’t been this cuddly in ages, baby.” He cooed smiling, liking your affection. He kissed your hair before flicking his attention back to the big screen running his massive hands up and down your spine.   

“I miss you so much.” You whispered again, hiding your face in the nape of his neck. You just couldn’t get close enough to him. You breathed him in and sighed smushing your nose against him.

“I’m right here, beautiful.” He softly spoke starting to gauge that you were in a bit more of a mood then he had initially thought  but he wasn’t sure why. He was right. You hadn’t been alone and this clingy to him in forever. When you had a baby with you all the time it was hard to drop your roles in the house. You felt like you had responsibilities and couldn’t let yourself be ‘babied’ by him. Time alone was so coveted and it was sparse but lately… you needed Trent. You felt lonely. “Everything okay? Besides missing me, everything is going okay?” He asked hesitantly knowing that he wasn’t exactly looking forward to hearing anything but that you were okay. You thought about it for a minute and tried to think if you were okay. You hummed trying to assure him you were before falling into tears. You were sobbing. You felt so overwhelmed. “Hey, hey, hey… baby. Please, take a deep breath for me. Don’t get worked up. I’m here, okay?” He hushed you, running his hand over the back of your head keeping you tight to him.  

“I just miss being yours. I miss you all the time and when you’re away…” You tried to keep talking but your sobs got in the way. He made you take a few breaths before you tried to speak again. “ I feel like I miss you more than you miss me when we're apart.” You whimpered out keeping your face pressed to his skin.Trent felt his heart drop into his stomach. He felt horrible you felt that way.  That wasn’t true but Trent just had maybe a more relaxed approach to being apart but of course he missed you. He hated being away from you and Teddy. Although that was half the issue, it was you* and Teddy now. It was a package deal and as much as you loved that and had come to terms that was it for the rest of your life, it was still an adjustment to make. Especially as Teddy talked more she was more of a person, you felt like it was a competition for his attention and  you wanted his all focus sometimes. 

“Baby, that’s impossible.... You have no idea how much I miss you when I’m away. A bed never feels more empty when I don’t have you in it. You know I’m a sap for you, come on. You’re everything to me.” He smiled, pulling your head from his neck to hold your face in front of him. “Baby, you will be mine, you are mine forever. Alright?” He whispered, ghosting his lips over yours. You nodded sheepishly. “You want to know how much I miss you, sweet girl? I go to sleep holding a pillow like it’s you, my baby. That’s how embarrassing you make me, alright?” He laughed at himself as you hid embarrassed against his chest.

“Really?” You giggled fairly happy even though basically he was telling you that he was upset being apart.   

“Yeah, I’ll embarrass myself for you, baby. I miss you so much. I think about you all the time. Don’t think for a moment. I don't think of you every second of every day. C’mere, sweet girl.” He cooed, pulling you tight in his arms, refusing to let you go. 

“Thank you for choosing me. I’m forever grateful I have you. I just hate being apart because I like being together so much. I love you with all my heart, T. My forever.” You whispered moving to kiss him. You pressed your lips to his with a hum. Every kiss with Trent was perfection. 

“Sweet girl. I know. I’m just the same as you. It makes it harder to be apart because of how good it is when we’re together. You know though, I can’t say it enough but I’m so lucky to get to share my life with you. Thank you for letting me into your life. You’re everything to me. Wish we could spend every day just like this. Keep you in my arms right here.” He softly spoke peppering you with kisses. 

“Will you watch Love Island with me please?” You scampered into the cinema to get Trent late one night a few days later before the show was on the telly. Since your little melt down in the cinema Trent had been so sweet making sure he was attentive but he wasn’t really planning on pausing his game of FIFA to come watch with you.

“You can go watch it. Don’t need me, do ya?” He responded as you laid over top of him childishly. He patted your ass with his big hand to send you on your way but you gave him a dramatic pouty face, rolling your lip. 

“Nooo, baby with me though. And you’ll ask what happened anyways please.” You whined kissing his lips a few times to try to persuade him. 

“Yeah, alright, alright. Fine.” He laughed, shaking his head knowing that was facts, he always ended up asking as you watched. You dragged him with you and cuddled on the couch in your living room settling in his arms as the show began. You watched about a half hour or so before you turned to Trent who was giggling away at one of the girls. 

“The accents throw me when they’re all mashed together.” You laughed with him at a welsh accent. 

“Baby, what? You’re around these all the time…” He questioned you, turning your shoulders for you to come and look directly at him. 

“But no, it’s different because it’s your voice and they are from Wales and all that or I don’t know. It just gets overwhelming.” You babbled trying to defend your comment. He shook his head before kissing the bridge of your nose then turning back to watch more of the episode.  

“Do you ever wish I was like that? Like with a full beat?” You spoke up, breaking the silence you had fallen into. You questioned Trent because you never really thought about your ‘look’ compared to some British girls, particularly like some of the girls on the show you were watching. You tried your hardest not to compare yourself to the previous girls you’d heard he’d been with and even though he was your husband now, of course you wondered if he liked your makeup, your hair, your looks, he said it all the time but you’d ask again and again. 

“Nah, never. I like you how you are, beautiful. I couldn’t manage all that though” He gestured to the screen. “Having boys trying to crack on with you. Not having that.” He laughed with a trademark scowl on his face. 

“My head wouldn’t be turned. Don’t worry, cute boy.” You giggled, kissing the frown off his lips. You couldn’t imagine the idea of going on the show but if you were there against your will, you definitely wouldn’t entertain anyone but him.   

“Better fucking not be be. You're with me forever, beautiful.” He chirped cheekily wrapping his strong arms across your chest from behind you, swaying you back and forth rocking you involuntarily side to side.  

“So, you’d you couple up with me?” You laughed smitten in his arms, turning your head back towards him with a childish smile.  

“You?” Trent laughed at your naivety, looking down at you. “Yeah, I’d do a lot more than that. Put another baby in you. How about that?” He spoke fairly calmly with a sure tone as if that was a real proposition but you weren’t sure. You giggled at the absurdity. It felt like unintentionally it kept coming up again and again. 

“Yeah?” You could only laugh. Was that something he had been thinking about? It came up here and there and you’d have genuine conversations but the last like concrete decision on it was to give you some time to chill after Tedd, which you’d done and then just kind of ‘have fun’ in the bedroom and if it happens it happens. Now, it seemed to be on your mind more and more though. If it happened, it happened, that’s all well and good but what if you really wanted it to happen? What if he really wanted it to happen? 

“Yeah, You’re not running about with little bikinis for anyone else. Snog, marry, pie. All your answers better be me. Your only option is to pick me.” He kept rattling on and you tried to play catch up getting lost in your thoughts of pregnancy and the whirlwind that would be another baby. 

“Pie?” Your brow furrowed when you heard that last bit. You didn’t really think he’d want that. The conversation snapping back to playful banter.

“Well, yeah. I don’t want some other man holding that much space in that pretty head. So I better be the only one you’re thinking about.” He continued. You just hummed and tucked back into him getting comfortable again turning your attention back to the show you just missed the last 10 minutes of so you were playing catch up there as well. “You smell so good.” Trent whispered resting his chin on your shoulder from behind you tilting his head to press his nose to the nape of your neck.

“I smell how I always do.” You tried to stay passive about his comment as you were trying ardently to follow a row kicking off in the villa on the tv. 

“Just take the compliment.” He cooed with a bit of feigned frustration in his voice. He wrapped his arms around your waist a little tighter and pulled you a bit closer to him, tucking his face entirely in the crook of your neck now. 

“You’re not watching, T.” You whined as he began to place soft gentle kisses against your skin. You could feel the goosebumps arise on your skin. You’d be lying if you didn’t take note of the stupidly sensual nature of them and the obvious downward direction his hands had been moving in. 

“I’m distracted, sorry, baby. Paying attention to something I’m much more interested in.” He whispered in a tone that managed to consume all your thoughts. You gave in and leaned backwards into him pushing him into the couch cushion behind him. You rolled your body in his arms to lay on top of him. You giggled at how charmed he had you. You were going to miss the episode but suddenly you didn’t care and you just wanted to hear him keep talking to you like that. You hid your face in his neck this time and he sighed dramatically. “Well, now you aren’t watching. Don’t get shy on me, baby. If you’re not gonna watch at least come gimme a kiss.” He cooed and you beamed, smiling against his skin but he couldn’t see that. You pulled away from him momentarily and adjusted your seat, placing yourself on top of his lap, straddling him while laying forwards almost entirely on his chest. You gave him a sweet peck on the lips as you held his perfectly pretty face in your hands. 

“Nah, nah none of that. Gimme more of you.” He rumbled dropping his hands to palm your ass and pull you forward on him more. You giggled and hid from him purposefully trying to draw out this playful version of him you were so enjoying. You laid your head on his shoulder hugging his body to you.

“Yum. So so yummy.” You softly spoke as you licked down his neck. You dropped your hands to his waist and slipped your hands under his t-shirt running them up and over his abs. 

“Show me that side of you I love, the one that’s only for me, baby. That you’d never show on tv.” He whispered, rolling his head to the side to give you more room and you took him up on his offering. You began to work small kisses, nibbles, and licks to the most sensitive part of his neck. 

“Maybe not tv but for your camera I’d do this.” You responded, working your kisses up his neck over to his ear as you spoke. You bit on his earlobe and tugged gently. He let out a groan and you could feel him push his hardening cock in his shorts into you. “T… I want you to do it.” You hummed moving your lips down his jaw before finding his lips with yours crashing into them with a hasty passionate kiss he wasn’t expecting. You had gone zero to sixty in no time. 

“Do what, beautiful? What do you want me to do for you?” He asked pretty coy considering he genuinely didn’t know what you were asking for. He knew it was related to possibly having sex right now but the specifics? Not a clue. 

“A baby, T. Put another baby in me.” You whined, dragging him back into a kiss. You night escalated as expected and in the following days since your Love Island love making, you had been all over Trent. You were horny* to say the least. It felt like you had just met him again. You were obsessed with everything he did and he wasn’t exactly complaining. You fucked in bed last night, you fucked in the shower this morning and here you were enjoying your morning in a way you didn’t think you would have been. In fact it was stupidly better than what you could have imagined. You were laying in Trent’s lap and by that you mean you were laying on your stomach, your legs spread open for him while he watched an F1 race and played with your pussy in the cinema. It started fairly innocent but then when you found yourself laid the way you were his hand wandered as you scrolled on your phone. He kept his gaze fixed on the tv and laid back pulling you with him by your thighs. You let out a soft giggle but neither of you said anything more. He just liked to do this. He massaged your thighs and then moved his hands to your ass and slowly but surely Trent continued to push your clothes to the side revealing more and more of you and was more than thrilled when he found that you had decided not to wear any panties, you were tempting fate. He was gradual but direct as he began to run his thumb in between your folds. He couldn’t stop himself. He couldn’t keep his hands to himself, you were magnetic to him. Your ass and pussy from this angle made his cock twitch but he was just relaxing. It was nothing more than just wanting to be close to you and you weren’t even paying attention. He played with you until you were a wet mess. You tried to stay fixated on your phone but this had morphed into some sort of competition. He drew his thumb away from you and you bit back a whine. He lewdly slurped your slick off himself coating his fingers in more of his saliva and moved them back to you to your relief, you were getting needier by the second. You weren;t sure what would qualify as a win or a loss but you were pretty sure both of you caved when he grabbed you by your thighs once more and angled your pussy up towards his lips. He slid his hands up to your hips and pulled your pussy to his pout, sinking his face into you fast but smoothly. You didn’t stop him. You would’ve never. In your day to day you felt the need to have some semblance of control but the second Trent drew near… you crumbled for him. His big hands kneaded your ass squeezing you to his face. And soon enough, his lips had found your clit, he had you under his command. He let out a moan of his own as he spread you open more for him. You grinded back into him desperately feeling yourself so close to reaching your high.  He ravenously ate you out. He made out with your body with zero shame. He was messy and hot, groaning, holding you securely, drinking you in. You tried to hold back a moan but it was a lost cause at this point. The way he ate you out was devilish and you just wanted him to keep sinning. You could feel his hard cock pushing up into your stomach from underneath you. He hummed and slurped hearing you finally whine for him. You just let him eat you out attempting to turn your attention back to your phone despite the pleasure coursing through you. He swirled his tongue around your clit as he dragged his fingers towards your entrance. You could feel yourself tumbling towards your release. He groaned, pulling away for a moment spitting onto your soaking wet pussy. He was drunk off you. Completely transfixed. He had no idea if the race was still on the TV and he really didn’t care.

“Good girl, baby.” He hummed. “You taste so good, just relax and let go, beautiful.” He whispered kissing and licking you all over. He moved his fingers to come back to you and slip inside as he adjusted his position to flick his tongue against your clit more and more. Your back arched as you pushed back into him, feeling your orgasm crash over you. You whined pathetically as he kept working through your high. You could feel him smiling into you. Your chest heaved as you came down but you were fairly quick to turn yourself around to come and face him. 

“Oh my god…” You giggled. “ So will you let me give you a proper thank you, T baby?” You asked as you outstretched your arms to his shoulders sliding your hands under his t-shirt. He shook his head trying to say no, although he had no plans to stop you, knowing you were determined. He moved one of his hands up to cup your cheek. You let him stroke his thumb over your skin before you pulled his hand from your cheek dragging it down to your lips. You kissed the inside of his palm before you wrapped your lips around one of his fingers. He watched you suck on his finger with his mahogany brown eyes following your every movement with a smirk. You released his finger and moved kisses from his hand up his arm coming to his chest. 

“Fuck, go ahead baby.” He hummed with a smug look on his face allowing you to slink down the couch placing yourself in between his legs. You looked devastatingly innocent and cute as you pulled on his shorts. You worked to undress him with a begging hum. In swift succession you were lost sucking his cock, working up and down his length, gagging on the size of him, loving the feeling of running your tongue along a bulging vein. Trent thrusted his hips up into you gently. “Such a good girl, baby. So good f’me.” He groaned barely holding up. You began to move a bit slower, feeling him get closer to his release. He narrowed his eyes on you watching you begin to tease him. You flashed him a cheeky smile. You swirled your tongue around him, sliding your hands up his strong thighs. Trent readjusted his position and reached forward to pull your top down. Your cheeky smile returned, smug that he needed to see more. He hummed seeing your hard nipples from how turned on you were from his tongue on you earlier and him in your mouth now. You whined as you watched his abs tense as you continued to work. “Gonna cum. Fuck…” He grunted simultaneously as you felt his release run down your throat. You smiled with a giggle and pure pleasure sitting back onto your heels after swallowing all of him. He leaned back onto the cushion running his hands over his face letting out a puff of air. You stuck your tongue out licking over your lips to taste him and to clean your mouth up. You laid on top of him childishly and moved for a cuddle as if you hadn’t just done anything remotely dirty.

“Want to see something exciting?” You giggled after a long while still tucked on the couch. You shuffled off him. You turned to stand up and he raised his brow confused why you were leaving such a comfortable place.

“What’s up, baby? Where are you going, beautiful?” He cooed with a smirk thinking you looked adorable readjusting your tiny shorts before running out the room.

“Hold onn!” You yelled back to him as you scurried out of the room. You came back into the room quickly with a few things in your hand. You plopped down sitting cross crossed next to Trent again on the couch. “Loookkkk!” You giddily squealed, shoving the things in your hand towards him. You showed him all your documents, your passport and driver's license  you had gotten officially changed to Y/N Alexander-Arnold.  “I forgot to tell you I finally got these!” You giggled surprised you hadn’t remembered to tell him the moment you did but you had just tucked everything away and got lost in the days since. That said, having his cock in your mouth had you reveling in the fact that you were now Mrs. Alexander-Arnold, reminding you.

“Oh my days. Wow that’s massive, baby. That’s so big. My girl.” He kissed your temple, taking your license from you to really inspect it. “Seems so surreal. You look leng in this, damn.” He laughed looking at a particularly good photo of you. You giggled cuddling into him. “All mine, even the government knows that, yeah?” He cooed and you hummed in agreement with a smile. 

•

Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter 🤍

Next part - Chapter 28 xx

[n0vazsq]

Won them over | LB7 x Reader

pairing . . . luke browning x gf!reader

summary . . . When you visit your family gathering with your secret boyfriend, you never expected him to get along so well

request . . . yes!! based on this request!

word count . . . 1.1k+

warnings . . . none!

faceclaim . . . N/A

alexavia yaps . . . my school is starting tomorrow so update schedule might stop a bit </3 i'll still be uploading but less often so yeah! also ignore the shit colour coordination on the moodboard

. . . Luke showing up at your family’s party wasn’t exactly part of the plan. Scratch that, your family didn’t even know you had a boyfriend.

You’d been holding off on telling them, because, well, you’d seen how they interrogated every single person your cousins brought around. And Luke? He was perfect, but he was also a racing driver, which you knew was going to ensue about a million questions.

The party was in full swing when you walked in with Luke trailing behind you. Your mom’s eyes nearly popped out of her head when she saw him.

"Who’s this?" she asked, wiping her hands on her apron, even though she wasn’t cooking. It was her nervous habit.

"Mom, this is Luke," you said, bracing yourself. "My boyfriend."

As if there was a record scratch, everyone within earshot turned to stare. Your dad’s jaw tightened, and your grandma’s eyebrows shot up so high they nearly disappeared into her hairline.

Luke, ever the charmer, extended his hand to your mom. "Mrs. (L/n), it’s really nice to meet you. Thanks for having me."

Your mom blinked, clearly not expecting the manners. "Uh, of course. Nice to meet you too, Luke."

But the interrogating started almost immediately. Your uncle cornered Luke by the drinks table, holding a beer like it was some kind of truth serum.

"So, you’re a race car driver? That’s… interesting," he said, his tone dripping with skepticism. "How’s that work as a career? Seems risky."

Luke smiled, completely unfazed. "It’s definitely not the typical job, but I love it. There’s a lot of strategy involved, and the teamwork is amazing. Plus, it taught me how to improve my focus."

Your uncle nodded slowly, like he wasn’t totally convinced but also couldn’t find a reason to argue.

Meanwhile, your grandma had Luke in her sights. She’d sat herself on the couch like the queen of the castle, and when Luke came over to introduce himself, she gave him the once over.

"A race car driver, huh?" she said, squinting at him. "How fast do you go?"

"Over 200 miles an hour sometimes," Luke replied, and your grandma’s jaw dropped.

"Lord have mercy. Do you have life insurance?"

Luke laughed. "Yes, maam. It’s part of the job."

By the time dinner rolled around, Luke was doing surprisingly well. He’d helped your mom carry a stack of plates, made your younger cousins laugh with a story about his first time driving a go kart, and even managed to get your dad to crack a smile.

But the ultimate test came when your grandpa, a man of few words but strong opinions, called Luke over to sit next to him.

"So, young man," your grandpa began, his voice gruff. "What’s your deal?"

You almost choked on your drink, but Luke didn’t even blink.

"Well, sir, I’m here because I really care about your granddaughter. She’s smart, funny, and honestly the best part of my life. I just want to make her happy."

Your grandpa stared at him for a long moment before nodding. "Good answer," he said gruffly, and that was that. Approval granted.

By the end of the night, your mom was packing up leftovers for Luke to take home, your cousins were begging him to come back for the next party, and your grandma was telling everyone he’d make a 'handsome groom someday'.

But of course, things couldn’t stay entirely smooth. After dinner, you and Luke snuck away to the back porch for a breather. The house was buzzing with your family’s chatter, and you needed a moment to yourselves.

"You’re handling this way better than I thought you would," you said, leaning against the railing.

Luke grinned, leaning in closer. "You doubted me?"

"Not exactly," you teased, "but they’re a lot to deal with."

"They’re great," he said, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "But I do kinda miss having you all to myself."

His voice dropped just enough to make your cheeks flush. Before you could respond, he leaned in and kissed you; soft and sweet, the kind of kiss that made everything else fade away.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and his hands found their way to your waist, holding you close. "I wasn’t kidding," he murmured. "Having you all to myself is the best part of any day."

You let out a soft laugh, your arms looping around his neck. "You’re ridiculous."

"Ridiculously in love with you," he replied, his grin widening. The way he looked at you, like you were the only person in the world, made your heart skip a beat.

Before either of you could say more, he pressed another kiss to your lips, this one deeper and slower. The sounds of the party drifted into the background, replaced by the warmth of his touch and the way he made you feel like you were floating.

"You know they’re probably wondering where we are," you said, pulling back just enough to speak, though you didn’t make any effort to let go of him.

"Let them wonder," he said, his voice teasing but his eyes full of something softer. "I’m not done with you yet."

Luke leaned in, hand brushing your cheek, and before he could kiss you for the third time, you heard a voice interrupt you.

"Ewww!" the voice rang out, snapping you both back to reality. You turned to see your little cousins standing by the doorway, their faces a mix of shock and disgust.

"We’re telling!" one of them shouted, already turning to run back inside.

"Wait, wait!" Luke said, holding up his hands. "What if I make a deal with you?"

The kids paused, eyes narrowing suspiciously. “What do you mean?”

"How about… another game of football after dinner?" Luke offered, and their eyes lit up.

"Really?"

"Really," he promised. "But only if you keep this little moment a secret between us."

The kids huddled together, whispering furiously, before turning back with matching grins. "Deal!"

As they ran off, you turned to Luke, half amused, half exasperated. "Bribing kids now?"

He shrugged, wrapping an arm around your waist. "Whatever it takes to keep your family from eating me alive."

"You’re ridiculous," you said, but you couldn’t stop smiling.

When you both finally went back inside, it was like nothing had happened.

Your cousins were busy showing off their 'secret' knowledge to each other, your mom was arguing with your dad about which dessert to serve next, and your grandma was already asking Luke if he’d like to take home some leftovers.

"Well, that went better than expected," you said on the drive home, leaning your head on Luke’s shoulder.

He grinned, one hand on the wheel, the other resting on your thigh. "Told you I’d win them over."

And honestly? You weren’t even surprised. Luke could charm just about anyone, even your family.

taglist . . . @barcapix ,, @f1lover55 ,, @ilovebarcaaa ,, @httpsdana ,, @paucubarsisimp ,, @justaf1girl ,, @awritingtree (lmk if you want to join the taglist!)

[ruh--roh-raggy]

Alone With You (William Afton x Fem! Reader) FLUFF - Part 1

Hello hello! So, uh, this was supposed to be a short one shot. It is now... not... that-- Anyways! I have missed writing for this big beautiful man. Any warnings will be labeled throughout each part. So enjoy Will laying it on thick, Henry trying his best to be a wingman, and a reader who is maybe just a little too obsessed with how huge Will is compared to them, but I'll let you be the judge of that. Let me know what you think, I love getting comments! If you would like to be added or removed from the tag list please let me know!

WARNINGS: CW! scene with aggressive man, threats of violence, other than that tooth rotting fluff, Boss! Will, age gap (Reader is in her late 20's, Will is in his early 50's), AU where Will isn't a murderer, mutual pining, flirting, dad jokes, Will being his usual awkward adorable self, Home Sweet Home adjacent, a love letter to the wonderful story "Bunny Ears" by @yellowbunnydreams that falls into a very similar vein as this, I think that's everything, if I missed any let me know!

You can find my Masterlist here! ~ AO3 Link! ~ Tip Jar!

Word Count: 7,000

Part 2

You hummed quietly along to the song that crackled over the radio in the pizzeria, laughing to yourself as you pulled out some of the noodle ball yo-yo’s from the box, shaking them slightly to watch their rubbery tendrils dance. “These things are so dumb looking.” You chuckle before dropping them into their respective prize box. You perked up slightly at the sound of your name being spoken behind you. You turned to find one of the co-owners standing on the other side of the counter. “Good morning Mr. Afton.” You greet him with a bright smile. You noticed that his usual stoic expression cracked slightly, offering you a small smile of his own.

“Good morning.” He can’t help but breathe out a laugh over how bubbly you were so early, the restaurant hadn’t even opened yet and you were already as warm and personable as ever. “Would you like any help over here? I know we got a pretty big restock in.” You glanced at the pile of boxes at your side that nearly came up to your shoulder.

“If it wouldn’t be too much trouble.” You grimace slightly as your attention turns back to him.

“Not at all, happy to help.” He carefully cuffs the sleeves of his dark purple dress shirt. You struggle to keep your eyes off of his strong forearms, the thin silver scars that littered his tan skin almost seemed to glow under the coarse dark hair that littered his arms that had always captivated you. You managed to tear your eyes away from him the moment he finished the task. “Alright,” he claps his hands together, “let's get this show on the road.” Despite his reputation, you always found that it was actually rather comfortable to be working so closely with Mr. Afton. Your boss was known for being a bit of a recluse. He never really left parts and services unless he and the other owner, Mr. Emily, were doing one of their walks in the Spring Bonnie and Fredbear suits. You remember when you first started working at Freddy’s that the other employees would always tell you how terrified they were of Mr. Afton. But, out of every conversation you have had with him, he’s been nothing but kind towards you. You let out a surprised squeak as he bumps into you slightly. “I am so sorry.” He rushes to apologize, you giggle at his worried expression.

“It’s okay Mr. Afton. I’m a lot tougher than I look, I promise.” You smile jokingly, flexing your arm. He chuckles, shaking his head slightly.

“I’m sure you are, rabbit.” He mutters barely loud enough for you to hear, you almost missed the nickname he had slipped onto the end. You smiled softly, turning back to your work as your cheeks grew warm.

“Oh perfect, you’re both here!” You turned to find Mr. Emily had walked up to the prize counter. He smiles warmly at you, “good morning honey, how are you?”

“I’m good Mr. Emily, almost done with the prize counter thanks to Mr. Afton.” You notice out of the corner of your eye how the taller man awkwardly stuffs his hands into his pockets, his attention dropping to the floor.

“Good, I’m glad Will was able to help. Jared was supposed to have done this last night, I’ll have to talk to have a word with him. I’m sorry you ended up having to take care of this.” He apologizes, his expression quickly brightening again as he remembered why he was there to begin with. “Will, I put your sweatshirts in your office. And for you, my dear,” He hands over the neatly folded purple fabric. “The rest of yours are in my office, but this is the one you asked if I could have custom ordered for you, I figured you’d want to wear that one first.” He chuckles, his eyes darting in between you and his business partner. You swallowed thickly, knowing he was expecting you to put it on.

“Custom order, huh?” Mr. Afton chimes in before his attention turns to you. “You must be pretty special, he won’t even let me custom order things.” He chuckles.

“Oh, I think you’ll like this design Will, I had one made up for you as well.” Mr. Emily practically sings. Your face felt like it was on fire, you could feel your palms starting to sweat as you gripped on tightly to the material. You timidly unfolded it before pulling it over your head. The soft fabric blanketed your body, you took a moment to unzip the short ¼ zipper to fold over the collar of the sweatshirt. You pushed up the sleeves to your elbows, finally catching sight of the bright yellow Spring Bonnie that stood out sharply against the dark purple background. You reluctantly let your eyes trail back up to your bosses. Mr. Emily stood with a proud smile on his face, arms crossed over his chest as he marveled at his work. Mr. Afton stared at the emblem on the sweatshirt with a shocked expression, his jaw hanging open until he realized you were looking. He quickly snapped it shut, straightening himself up as he tried to regain his composure.

“Spring Bonnie, huh?” He asks before clearing his throat, his voice cracking slightly as he pushes the question out.

You look away timidly, scuffing the toe of your sneaker against the black and white checkered floor. “Yeah, he’s always been my favorite, sir.” You admit bashfully. It took him a moment to respond, the silence that hung thick in the air making your heart pound in your chest.

“Well, you made a great request, it looks great on you.” Your gaze snaps back up to him, his eyes widening slightly as he realizes what he had just said. He doesn’t say another word, he simply turns on his heels and power walks towards the back of the restaurant, practically crashing through the door that led to parts and services. Mr. Emily shook his head, blinking in confusion before turning back to you.

“We have a party at noon, I’d like you to come help with Fredbear and Spring Bonnie once Meredith gets here.” You look nervously at the door to parts and services and then back to your boss.

“Yes sir, um, did I say something to upset Mr. Afton?” You ask timidly.

Mr. Emily chuckles, shaking his head. “No, I think he's flattered that Spring Bonnie is your favorite. He just doesn't know how to take a compliment.” He teases his friend.

“Okay,” you let out a small laugh yourself, shaking your head slightly. “Mer should be here around eleven, I'll head back to your office around then.”

“Sounds good to me, thank you in advance.” He smiles warmly before hurrying off. 

🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰

William collapsed into his chair with an aggravated groan. “Goddamn am I out of practice.” He shakes his head. “It looks great on you.” He repeats himself in a mocking tone. “Get a fucking grip, Will.” Henry bursts into the room, looking at Will with an expression of pure disbelief.

“What in the faz-fuck was that?” He kicks the door shut behind him. “You don’t just tell the girl she looks nice and run off.”

“I didn’t mean to say that out loud.” He snaps through gritted teeth. “I’m sure she doesn’t want some creepy old man flirting with her.”

“Will, you’re the farthest thing from a creepy old man.” His friend reassures him with a firm nod. “You’re one of those… what are the young people calling them now… a DILF?”

“A what?” William laughs loudly.

“A DILF, you know, a dad I’d like to- whatever, it’s not important. What is important is we need to fix whatever the hell just happened there.” Henry exclaims as he points dramatically outside. “You used to be the biggest flirt I knew in college, what the hell happened?”

“I got married is what happened.” Will responds gruffly. “The second I put a ring on that woman’s finger, any sort of spark we had was gone.” He grumbles. “I haven’t flirted with anyone in twenty odd years.”

“Well we need to get you up to speed my friend.” Henry chuckles, clapping the taller man on the shoulder.

🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰

The first hour or so of your shift was spent running the prize counter, excited groups of kids running up to the plexiglass case and asking how much for whichever particular prize had caught their eye.

“Sorry I'm late, traffic was a nightmare at the center.” Meredith huffs as she hurriedly pulls on her newly appointed sweatshirt. “Aw, you got a Spring Bonnie one, that's cute.” She smiles.

“Apparently, Mr. Emily took it upon himself to get me and Mr. Afton matching ones.” You chuckle. “Also, I'm scheduled for a walk in an hour, so I'll be back.” You hurriedly excuse herself before she has a chance to ask any questions. The silence that surrounds you as the door to the main pizzeria shuts is all consuming. You took a deep breath, it was the first time it had been quiet since you had arrived at work. You stretched, rolling your shoulders back before starting down the hallway. You had done this job plenty of times, it was honestly one of the best parts of your week. You knocked hesitantly on the door to parts and services, listening for the soft ‘come in’ from Mr. Afton inside. He says your name softly, a smile lacing its way across his lips.

“Perfect timing, I was just about to get into costume.” He groans as he stands, carefully undoing the buttons on his dress shirt. You had seen him go through this process dozens of times, but even now it still amazes you to watch him get into the suit. Something so expertly crafted by his own hands, as dangerous as it was beautiful, if the slightest thing were to go wrong that suit held the potential to kill him where he stood. “You mind giving me a hand?” He asks with a charming smile. You nod, hurrying to his side. He inserts a turnkey into Spring Bonnie’s torso, pulling the internal supports out of the way in order for his body to fit inside. Your eyes burned into the section of the suit you were staring at. In the brief glance you had allowed yourself to have, you had noticed how his muscles almost seemed to glow with the thin sheen of sweat that had formed from working on animatronics all day. The black tank top that stretched tightly across his toned chest left no room for speculation about just how strong Mr. Afton was. He takes hold of your hand, swapping it out for his on the key. “Hold it tight, okay?” He instructs gently. You nod, trailing his movements as he picks up the torso and slips it over his head. He places his hand loosely over yours. “I got it rabbit, you can slip your hand out.” He says quietly, focusing intensely on the internal supports. You carefully do as he asks, earning a hushed “beautiful” from him. He makes sure that everything is secured in place before pulling out the key, and slowly releasing the breath he had been holding. “So far so good.” He chuckles. You repeat the same process with the legs and arms, leaving him fully suited up minus the yellow rabbit’s head.

“Your bowtie’s a little crooked.” You point out with a bashful smile. “Mind if I straighten it out?”

“Not at all.” You take a step closer to him, running your fingers over the soft purple fabric. You carefully adjust the bowtie back into its proper position.

“There, now Spring Bonnie will look as handsome as possible.” You giggle, your cheeks growing warm as he shoots you a playful smile in response. You quickly pull your hands away from him as Mr. Emily walks in the room. He chat’s happily with you and Mr. Afton as he expertly gets himself into his own suit.

“It should be a relatively easy walk, just take it slow, there are a lot of kids out there at the moment.” Mr. Emily explains.

“Just another Thursday, Henry.” Mr. Afton responds with a chuckle. “You should have a pretty easy time, but you’re already an expert at this as it is.” He offers you a lopsided smile that you can’t help but return. He glances up at the clock. “Well, it’s showtime boys and girls.” He grabs the mascot head from his workbench, quickly slipping it over his head. Mr. Emily copied his actions, looking in the mirror by the door to make sure Fredbear’s hat was on correctly before following you out into the hallway. You knew from experience that Mr. Afton had a harder time seeing out of the suit than Mr. Emily, having to remove his glasses before putting the costume on. You reached back, allowing your hand to bump into the fingers of the Spring Bonnie costume, offering to lead Mr. Afton to the picture spot so he wouldn’t have to worry about stumbling. He allows his hand to engulf yours, following closely behind you as you wound your way expertly through the excited groups of kids. You brought them to a well lit corner of the restaurant that was specifically set up for pictures. You step in front of both of them as they step into their spots.

“Mr. Fredbear, Mr. Spring Bonnie, let me know if you need anything.” You smile warmly at the pair before heading off to interact with the crowd that had formed around the performers. For the most part your day went on like normal, you kept the hoard of kids and parents alike organized enough to keep your bosses from getting overwhelmed by all the people wanting pictures or just to meet their favorite anthropomorphic animal friend. That was until you noticed one little girl who appeared to be hiding off to the side. She clutched a yellow rabbit plush to her chest, nervously shuffling her feet as she watched the rest of the kids run up excitedly to the mascots. You looked around to find no one appeared to be waiting with her, so you decided to see if you could help. You approach the girl with a friendly smile and a wave. “I noticed you're looking a bit down friend, is everything okay?” She looks between you and the crowd behind you.

“I want to go say hi to Spring Bonnie but I'm scared.” She admits in a tiny, shaky voice.

“Well, that’s definitely no fun. Why don't you tell me what's scaring you, maybe I can help.” You offer kindly.

“There's just a lot of big kids, and Spring Bonnie looks a lot bigger than he does in the pictures too.” You noticed how she absentmindedly tugged at one of the rabbits ears in an attempt to comfort herself.

“Can I let you in on a big secret?” You lower your voice to just above a whisper, making the girl lean in to listen with wide, excited eyes. “I happen to be best friends with Spring Bonnie and Fredbear.” You nod in response to the shocked gasp she let out. You held out your hand, introducing yourself to the girl, her black pigtails bouncing in time with her growing excitement.

“My name’s Addie.” She responds with a gapped tooth smile.

“Well, Miss Addie, since we're friends, why don't I take you to meet my other friend Spring Bonnie so you can say hi!” She nods, looking at the crowd with some remaining apprehension. “Still a lot of scary big kids, huh?” She hurriedly responds, proving you right. “I'll tell you what, if you hold my hand, I promise no one will bother you.” She timidly takes your hand, letting you guide her in the direction of Spring Bonnie and Fredbear. She clung to your leg as you approached the large golden rabbit's side. “Excuse me Mr. Spring Bonnie.” You couldn't help the smile that passed over your lips as you noticed the man inside the suit straighten up at the sound of your voice. “My friend Addie is very excited to meet you, but she's a little nervous.” He tilts his head to the side slightly, like a dog hearing an unfamiliar sound. He dramatically looks around for someone the same height as you before letting his gaze drop a little lower, making a small startled movement when his eyes land on the girl. You feel her grip tighten on your hand, inching herself further behind you. “Still a little too scary up close, huh?” You kneel down beside her, bringing yourself closer to his height. “I promise, Spring Bonnie wouldn't hurt a fly, you don't have to be scared of him.” You try to reassure her

“How do you know?” She asks timidly.

“Here, I'll show you he's not so scary.” You give her a comforting smile, softly squeezing her hand in reassurance before standing back up. You walked up to the large yellow rabbit, giving him a small, bashful smile before pushing yourself up onto your toes and pressing a quick peck to the tip of the suit's nose. “See, he's not scary at all.” Seeing the fact you managed to get face to face with the monster bunny seemed to put Addie’s nerves at ease. You could feel Mr. Afton’s gaze burning into the side of your face before his attention was pulled away by the little girl. She bravely approaches him, reaching out to tap a finger against his arm.

“Excuse me, Spring Bonnie.” She squeaks before pulling a folded up picture out of the chest pocket of her bright blue overalls. “I made you a drawing.” Spring Bonnie excitedly motions to the drawing, passing it off to you as he knelt down in front of her. He opens his arms signaling he was asking for a hug but he waited for Addie to make the first move. She nervously looks up at you for guidance, you give her a reassuring nod, silently signaling that it was okay. She slots herself into his arm, giving the suit a tight squeeze with her little arms. You unfold the drawing for Spring Bonnie to look at, your smaller, ungloved fingers a much better fit for the task. You hand it over to him, smiling as you watch the interaction of him silently fawning over her masterpiece that she made just for him, making Addie giggle. The drawing depicted Addie holding onto Spring Bonnie's hand, best friends scrawled across the bottom of the page in blocky purple letters.

“Addie, there you are!” You turn quickly to see a very worried looking mother making her way towards you. “I told you I'd come see Spring Bonnie with you honey, you didn't have to run off.” She chuckles, kneeling down as her daughter crashes into her arms. “See? I told you he wasn't going to be scary.”

“My new friend was a big help.” She beams up at you.

“Miss Addie was very brave. Thank you for coming to say hello to Mr. Spring Bonnie.” She runs up and gives the rabbit one last tight hug around his leg before heading off with her mother. You glanced up at the clock, realizing the scheduled 30 minutes was up you collected the two men and dismissed them to the back without much of a fuss. “Would you like any help Mr. Emily?” You ask as you take the Fredbear head from him, setting it gently on the workbench.

“I should be all set, Will might like your help though.” He nods in his co owner's direction. You noticed him struggling to take off the head, the thick, fabric fingers making it difficult for his hands to properly articulate.

“Would you like some help, Mr. Afton?” You ask sweetly.

“Please, these stupid gloves make it impossible to hold onto anything.” He chuckles. You carefully take hold of the mask, your body pressing into the Spring Bonnie suits plush stomach as you struggle to accommodate for your boss's massive stature. You push the head up enough for him to get a proper hold on it in order for it to be removed. He blinked a couple times as he left the dark confines of the head, continuing to squint as his eyes adjusted to the light. A soft smile finds its way to your lips as you pick up his glasses off of his work bench, unfolding the stems and presenting them neatly to him. His eyes drop to the gold wire frames, looking back at you with a charming lopsided smile that makes your heart pound. “Thank you rabbit.” He quickly pulls off one of his gloves to accept the item. Running his finger through his hair in an attempt to put back the sweaty tendrils that had fallen and stuck to his forehead. As he takes them from you he leans in slightly to whisper, “you know, if you wanted a kiss from Spring Bonnie you should've just asked.” Your cheeks grew warm, you stumble slightly over a toolbox on the floor, the loud clattering catching Mr. Emily’s attention.

“Well don't kill the poor girl.” He rushes to your side in order to steady you. “Honestly Will, the amount of times I've told you about leaving your tools around.” He continues to fuss over you for a moment, you reassured him you were just a bit startled by the noise. Your eyes met Mr. Afton’s, a playful glimmer in his gaze as he slowly trailed over your form. He shakes his head slightly, massaging the bridge of his nose under his glasses before quickly turning away. 

“I should probably get back to the floor.” You state softly, slowly backing up towards the door. You pause when Mr. Afton calls your name.

“Thanks for all the help today.” The corners of your mouth quirk up in a smile.

“Happy to help.” You noticed him pause briefly, it registering in his mind how he had said something similar in regards to your thanks earlier. You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, letting your gaze linger on him for a bit longer than necessary before slipping out into the hallway.

🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰

“She's not going to want some creepy old man flirting with her.” Henry mocks Will’s statement from earlier. “I don't know Will, she seems pretty sweet on you already.” Will didn't miss the mischievous smirk that quickly passed over his friend's features.

“Henry, don't you fucking dare.” He points an accusatory finger at him. “The last thing I need is for you getting your hands involved in my love life.” He grumbles.

Henry turns to Will, giving him an incredulous look. “Did we- did we witness the same attempt at you flirting earlier?”

“I'm rusty!” He snaps in response.

“Rusty isn't the word for it, my friend.” Henry chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans up against one of the workbenches along the wall. “I've been in a happy, loving marriage for almost thirty years, just saying.” He raises his hands in front of him innocently. Will just stares blankly back at him, waiting for Henry to whip out some punchline to prove he was fucking with him. He couldn't seriously be suggesting that he should ask you on a date. But he knew that look in Henry’s eyes, the pair had been best friends nearly their entire lives, it would be a hard detail to miss. Henry wasn't just serious about helping him flirt with you, he was excited, and an excitable Henry Emily is something Will adamantly tried to avoid. Henry sighs, seeing Will’s apprehension wasn't wavering in the slightest. “Listen, think what you want. You're too old to get back in the game, she's too young for you, whatever. But, Will, I wished you noticed how her eyes sparkle when she looks at you. I think that would give you all the confidence you need.” He jumps as his pager goes off, quickly pulling it from his belt. “Gotta run, problem at the front. Think on it for a while, okay?” Will cringes slightly as Henry slams the door behind him.

“Her eyes sparkle when she looks at me, huh?” Will chuckles, running his fingers through his salt and pepper hair. “Henry, I think you're just a hopeless romantic.”

🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰

Your fists shook from their position clenched at your side. Leaving parts and services behind you walked out onto the main floor only to find one of the new hostesses getting screamed at by an upset patron. You immediately rushed over to help, placing yourself in between the terrified teenager and the middle aged man who needed to learn some manners. You didn't even get through asking what the problem was before all his anger was directed at you. Apparently, the issue was that his beer had been knocked over by one of the dozens of children that raced around the establishment, and from the smell coming off of him you could tell he probably should've been cut off a while ago. “I expect to be compensated for the entire fucking visit. I am absolutely appalled at the state this place is in! Where's your manager, both of you need to be fucking fired for how poorly you treat customers.” At the threat of losing her job the hostess you had rescued started to cry. “See? They have fucking children running this place, ridiculous.”

“Sir, this conversation doesn't involve her anymore, I would appreciate it if you left her out of it.” Despite trying to keep your voice calm you couldn't hide the definitive snap of your anger bubbling up. Being here as long as you had, you’ve grown pretty close with most of the employees here. As cheesy as it sounds they were your family, and you would be damned if you were going to let this drunk asshole disrespect your family.

“Oh, all high and mighty over here, are we?” He waves his hands in front of him. “What? You want a fucking prize for trying to be a hero?” You heard Mr. Emily call your name from across the restaurant as he struggled to push through the crowd that had surrounded the commotion.

“What I want is for the drunk in front of me to stop berating one of my hostesses-” You were cut off, wincing away as he swung to strike you across the face. Much to your surprise the slap never came. You turned back to the man, ready to beat him to the ground, but it appeared that someone had beaten you to the punch, literally.

William Afton was on top of the man in the blink of an eye. Hauling his short, fat frame from the floor by his collar, leaving the man's toes barely skimming the neon patterned carpet. The man let out a shocked sound and began to protest, whatever clever response he had dreamed up died in his throat as a deep guttural growl left your boss. He slams the man up against the wall, you struggle to stop yourself from laughing as you watch him attempt to stretch himself to the floor. “Apparently, we need a crash course in how to keep our hands to ourselves.” Mr. Afton snarls.

“If it wasn't for the fact that she-” he quickly raises an arm to point at you.

“If you don't want to lose that finger I suggest you drop it.” His tone was dangerous, something you had never seen from him before. You were finally snapped from your trance by Mr. Emily gently shakes your shoulder and calls your name.

“Honey, come on. Come sit down in my office, just let him handle this.” He fusses over you as he leads you towards the back of the restaurant. The muffled, far off sound of Mr. Afton’s voice as he yelled at the man who had tried to assault you was drowned out when the door slammed shut behind you. You thudded into the cushions of the couch in his office, he pulled a bottle of water out of the mini fridge under his desk, handing it over to you and instructing you to drink it slowly. He quickly hurried out of the office once again, leaving you to sit in silence. You scrunched up your face uncomfortably, the painful thudding of your heart against your ribs finally registering. You felt a tear drip off your jaw and onto your lap, it took you a moment to realize you were crying. The door to Mr. Emily’s office opened softly, you looked over to find Mr. Afton peering around the door.

“Don’t look at me like that, you look like you’re about to apologize for something.” You attempt to joke to lighten the mood.

“Of course I’m going to apologize, rabbit, this happened on my watch.” He tries to argue.

“It’s not your fault that guy’s a douchebag.” He cautiously takes a few steps closer to you, kneeling down in front of your position seated on the couch.

“He didn’t get his hands on you, did he?” You shake your head, eyes trailing down to your lap. He chewed the inside of his cheek as his eyes traced over the terrified expression that had settled itself on your face.

You sniff, smiling up at him through teary eyes. “He probably hits like a bitch anyways.” He chuckles, pushing some stray hair out of your face. You sniff, “that was just really scary.” He tuts quietly, pulling you into a warm embrace.

“I’m going to kill him if I ever see again.” He grumbles. “No one hurts my rabbit.” Your eyes widened slightly as your cheeks grew warm. He cradles you against him for a moment, your body easily relaxing in his arms.

You jump as Mr. Emily bursts back into the room. “He managed to squeak out before I could call the cops.” He huffs. “Are you alright?” 

“I’m fine Mr. Emily, promise.” You attempt to reassure him. He sighs, still eying you with a worried expression.

“Will, drive her home, make sure she gets something to eat.” He waves at his friend. “I’m giving you the rest of the weekend off with pay, go rest up.”

“Oh, Mr. Emily you don’t have to-”

“Weekend! With pay! This is non-negotiable, young lady!” He exclaims dramatically. 

“Come on rabbit.” Will chuckles, helping you up off the sofa. “Let’s get you something to eat.” Your hand lingers in his for a little longer than necessary, his striking silver eyes scanning over your features. You opened the door to Mr. Emily’s office only to find all of your coworkers crowded around outside. They all froze at the sight of Mr. Afton, knowing how bad it looked that they all had abandoned the floor. He sighs, glancing down at you and back up at them. “She’s okay. If any of you see that guy around here again you come tell me or Mr. Emily, he’s permanently banned from Freddy’s.” You feel the warmth of his palm spread across your back as he places a hand in between your shoulders. “I just wish we could've done more to teach that asshole a lesson.”

“Mr. Afton, you literally threw him out into the parking lot. If Mer hadn't stopped you it seemed like you probably would've handled the job pretty well.” One of the cooks chuckles only to be met with a collective murmur of approval from the group.

“Unfortunately, no matter how much I would've loved to watch you beat that guy into the pavement, it wouldn't be worth getting you locked up.” You glanced up at him only to find a semi surprised expression on his face. This was the first time he had witnessed such unwavering respect from all of his employees. Your attention is drawn to Meredith as she says your name, “you going to be alright?”

“Yeah, I should be okay.” Your cheeks grew warm as you continued to explain the situation. “Mr. Afton’s going to drive me home.” You scanned over the group. “Where's Katie?” You watched a few of them shuffle out of the way as she was shoved to the front, her cheeks stained with tears as she looked down at the floor.

“It's all my fault that guy tried to hit you, I'm so sorry.” She sniffles.

“Hey,” you grab her gently by the shoulder, “that guy was a douchebag, I want to make sure you're okay.” At your genuine concern she broke down again, pulling you into a hug as she apologized repeatedly.

“Ryan, she comes in with you right?” Mr. Afton asks her boyfriend, who nods. “Both of you get out of here, I'll fix your time cards.” He nods to the doors. “The rest of you get back to the floor.” There was a hurried bunch of yessir’s and affirmative sounds as they hurried back out to their positions, Ryan taking Katie out the back door so they could leave. “Right, now that everyone knows you're okay,” the two of you share a laugh at all your coworkers' concern, “how about we go get something to eat, if that's alright with you.”

“I think that sounds like a great idea.” You smile at him, allowing him to lead you outside. He seemed nervous as he fumbled his keys from his pocket, nearly dropping them on the ground in the process. “What kind of food do you like?” He asks as he slides into the driver's seat next to you.

“I'm not picky, whatever works for me.” You reassure him. He grips the steering wheel tightly, swallowing thickly before turning to look at you.

“At the risk of sounding like an absolute creep, would you like to come back to my house so I can cook for you?” At the question your heart began to pound in your chest. He wanted you to come back to his house with him?

“You want to cook for me?” You couldn't stop a smile from lacing its way across your lips as you repeated the question back to him. “Why?”

“All the restaurants around here are pretty shitty,” he responds with a chuckle, “I happen to know my way around the kitchen pretty well… only if that's something you're comfortable with, of course.”

“If it's not too much trouble, Mr. Afton-”

“Will… you, um, you can call me Will.” His silver eyes met yours, your breath freezing in your lungs. “And it's no trouble at all. I'm looking forward to spending time with you.” He admits with a lopsided grin. You let out a flustered giggle before responding.

“I am too.” Will didn’t miss the nervous excitement in your tone. 

You pulled down the long gravel driveway, the thick fir trees acting as a tunnel that eventually opened to reveal a modest, pale yellow colonial tucked away nicely into the wilderness. “It must be nice not having to worry about neighbors.” You chuckle.

“What can I say? I like my privacy.” He jokes in response. You stick close to him as you head onto the porch, every snapping branch making you jump as you wait for him to unlock the door. “Don’t worry rabbit, I won’t let anything hurt you.” He promises with a coy smile. He pushes the door open, motioning for you to walk in ahead of him. Will’s house was furnished simply, there wasn’t much decoration outside of the basic necessities. A well loved, comfortable looking couch and matching loveseat sat around a well kept fireplace, from the fresh logs that sat inside it appeared to have been used recently. The walls were completely bare, painted a pale sage green with ivory trim, a stark contrast from his fellow co owner who practically had an entire family album strewn across his desk. “It’s not much–” 

“It’s cozy, I like it.” You reassure him with a soft smile.

“Well…” he starts, “It definitely feels a lot more like a home with you in it.” Your heart thudded loudly in your chest, your eyes meeting Will’s the instant the words tumbled from his lips. “You know, I just… I just don’t have company that often… it feels more like a home when there’s someone besides just me here.” He laughs awkwardly. You let out a shy giggle, your gaze quickly trailing to the floor.

“I’ll have to make this more than a one time visit then.” He takes your hand in his, gingerly bringing your knuckles to his lips, his thumb trailing over your skin, dulling the electric buzz that ran through your fingers from the small gesture.

“I’d really like that rabbit.” Your cheeks grow warm, the two of you exchanging a soft smile as he guides you in the direction of the kitchen.

“How would you like me to help?” Will gives you a shocked look, studying you carefully as a playful grin laces its way across his lips.

He can’t help but chuckle as he watches you roll up your sleeves, your usual bubbliness radiating from behind whatever nerves you were currently experiencing. “You want to help me cook?”

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” Will laughs at your blunt response.

“Alright,” he holds up his hands in defeat, “no need to get so hostile.” You felt yourself relax as laughter of your own bubbled up in your throat. Your eyes met his, warmth spreading through your chest as butterflies erupted in your stomach. In that moment it really settled in just how right all of this felt.

Will sat across from you at the small, circular dining room table, a cluster of randomly assorted scented candles served as your lighting. You swirled around the dark red wine you held in your hand before taking a sip, Will was completely captivated as he watched the glass come to rest against your lips. “Thank you for dinner.” You speak up after a few moments of silence.

“I should be thanking you,” he says with a chuckle, “you were a big help.” The way his silver eyes seemed to almost glow in the dim light made your heart race, he looked at you with such fondness in his expression. “Rabbit, you look very beautiful tonight.”

You can’t help but giggle at his compliment, your cheeks growing warm as his gaze holds you in place. “Thank you Will.” You trail a finger around the rim of your glass, struggling to keep the dumb smile off your face.

“You’re blushing.” He remarks with a proud smirk.

“I am not!” You respond immediately, your flustered tone not masked in the slightest by your loud laughter. He just simply smiles, his gaze trailing over your features, mapping out every single curve and angle. You glanced at the clock, letting out a regretful sigh when you realized how late it had gotten. “I should probably get heading home.”

“Wow, when did it get so late?” He remarks in awe, finally noticing the time as well. “I’m sorry to have kept you–” The words die in his throat as he feels the warmth of your much smaller hands slowly cover his own.

“I had a really nice time with you tonight, Will.” The comment hung in the air for a moment as he thought of how to respond.

“Maybe… Maybe we could do this again sometime then?” His voice came out softly, barely more than a murmur, unable to tear his eyes away from the sight of you gently holding his hand in your own.

“I’d like that.” You respond in a similar tone. You let your thumb slowly trail over his, the callouses he had built up over years of hard manual labor were rough under your fingertips. You reluctantly pulled your hand back, folding it neatly in your lap with the other.

The ride back to your house was spent in a tense silence, neither of you knowing exactly what to say at the moment. Your chest tightens as he shifts the car into park, you notice out of the corner of your eye how his mouth falls open to speak but no words come out at first. You turn to face him, prepared to say your goodbye for the evening, but your voice died in your throat when your eyes met his. He scanned over your face, his gaze eventually landing on your lips. For a brief moment the thought of how his scruff would feel as he kissed you flashed through your mind, how warm his hand would be against your cheek as he pulled you in closer. You shook the idea off before you could entertain it any further.

“I guess I will see you next week.” Every word tumbled slowly from his lips, not wanting to have to leave you a moment sooner than necessary.

“Unfortunately Mr. Emily seemed pretty serious about the whole weekend with pay, so next week it is.” You laugh demurely.

“If you need anything, you give me a call, okay?” You swallow thickly at his husky tone.

You nod, “okay.” You reach for the handle on the door, hesitating as your fingers wrap around the cool metal. Will began to fidget with the radio as he struggled to keep his eyes off of you, the soft crackling the only sound to break up the otherwise deafening silence. In one swift movement, you turned, lips landing on Will’s cheek. He sat motionless as you pulled back, his jaw hung slack in shock as he tried to process what had just happened. “Goodnight, Will.” You whisper as you hurriedly open the door.

“Goodnight, rabbit.” He can’t help but let his eyes trail after you as you stand, drinking in one last sight of you before you have to part ways. Both of you are already dreading the eternity of spending the weekend apart.

Tag List: @zoey5252 @loudchaosking @weirdoartist21 @lokanda @emmbny @yukkkiki @dij-ology @maria-moll @phd-in-fuckery @helreyy @hallucinating-xoxo (if you would like to be added or removed from the tag list please let me know!)

[bethelighthalazia]

Chapter 1 - Arrival

Summary:  It´s the day of y/n´s arrival at the Bang mansion, or “the den” as it's called by some. Not all people in her new life seem too happy about this, but will she be able to gain everyone's trust and maybe find her place in this new family?

Genre: fluff, angst

Pairing: Bang Chan x fem!reader

Additional Characters: OT8 Stray Kids, Ateez Yunho

Word Count: 1440

AU: Mafia AU

Warnings: none? A gun mentioned, but that's all, i think

networks: @mirohs-aurora-society 

notes: I am using some physical descriptions for Y/N, it being glasses, freckles and a crooked nose. In this chapter, I am using the members’ stage names mostly as their codenames, but they might be replaced with their real names later on.

other links?:   << prev  masterlist  next >>

© by bethelighthalazia. Do not repost, copy or translate. Unless stated otherwise, those works are mine and born from my own ideas. I don't have any claim on the mentioned real existing Idols whatsoever.

Your father's car came to a halt in front of a rather secluded mansion, the driver turning in his seat as he turned off the engine. 

“We're here, Ms Jeong. Your father's orders were to drop you off at this address,” he said, getting out to open the car's door for you, bowing when you stepped out. Then he went to gather your suitcase and a few small extra bags from the trunk of the black car, put them on the ground next to you and left. A sigh escaping you, you shook your head.

You always knew about your father's dirty business, never questioning his decisions, since that was how you were raised, to be the obedient and well behaved daughter and heiress to the ‘black pirates’. Well, lately almost no one feared your family anymore, especially since the ‘black pirates’ were overpowered by the new mafia in town. They called themselves the ‘Stray Kids’, following a man named Mr Bang, the exact same man whom your father owes a lot of money to. However, your father managed to settle a deal with him, and this is why you are now standing here, alone and with the little luggage your father sent with you to meet your new husband.

Yes, your father's debts voided under the condition of you marrying Mr Bang. It still baffled you as to why the most wanted bachelor, desired by every woman in town, would want you. After all, you never truly fit in the beauty standards with your slightly crooked nose, freckles and your glasses. Your eyes trailed along the path to the mansion's gates, then down to your luggage. 

“Well, that's my life now.” You sighed, grabbing your suitcase in one hand and your other bags in the other hand and started to walk, but you soon got stopped by a voice behind you. 

“Wait, let me help you, lady!” The rather deep voice startled you for a moment, your head whipped around to see who called you. A blonde male, probably your age, with a gentle smile on his face. He was accompanied by another one, he seemed a little older, a hard expression on his face. “Who are you?” The older one asked, his voice just as cold as the look in his eyes. They probably were part of Mr Bang's men, so you bowed in their direction, greeting them properly. “Jeong y/n, I have a meeting with Mr Bang.” Your voice was trembling, even though you hid it quite well, you were scared. After all, you´re about to meet your husband soon, a marriage arranged by a deal your father made.

“A pleasure, Ms Jeong. My name is Felix, this is Lee Know.” The younger one smiled, pointing at himself and then the older one who only let out a little grumble before taking your suitcase while Felix took some of your bags. The men then started walking, leading you up to the mansion where another man greeted them. “Felix, you picked up another chick?” The one at the gate laughed, catching a glare from Felix as the blonde shook his head. “Stop it, I.N.! This is Ms Jeong, she's got a meeting with the boss.” Those words let the other male get quiet, eyes widened as he bowed and apologized to you. “I am so sorry miss, I didn't know you would arrive today! Follow me, I will show you to the boss’ office.” The other two exchanged a look when noticing how I.N. reacted to your name, but then they shrugged, assuming their youngest just wants to impress. 

They would soon realize how wrong they were though. I.N. led you and the other two men down a few corridors until he knocked on a big wooden door, opening it after hearing a voice from inside. “Sorry to interrupt, boss. She's here now.” The young male said and bowed, stepping aside to let you enter. You hesitated for a moment, your heart beating in your throat and your hands trembling. The ‘boss’, Mr Bang, got up from the chair behind his desk, his appearance quite intimidating, the sleeves of his white button up shirt rolled up, revealing the muscles of his arms, a holster for the revolver on his desk tightly fitted around his chest, a black vest hanging over the chair´s backrest. A scar on his left eyebrow and one on his right cheek making him look tough and a little scary. He only needed a few steps to cross the room, holding a gloved hand out towards you, who shyly took it. In your family, you were feared, known as being ruthless and cold but here? You knew no one, heck, you didn't even know the reason why this man would choose you out of all the women in town.

“Ah, yes. Welcome to your new home, my wife.” He said, giving her hand a gentle squeeze, the soft smile on his face contrasting with the intimidating aura surrounding him. A thump behind you let him look up though, raising an eyebrow at his men who dropped your luggage in shock. “Don't mind these pabos, I hope your luggage didn't contain anything breakable?” You needed a few seconds to process his words, still surprised by the gentleness of his words. “Wh- oh, no it's just clothes and- uhm I am Jeong y/n, you can use my name…” You mumbled, feeling your ears and cheeks heat up with a deep blush. 

“Did I hear you right, boss? Wife?!” One of the men, Lee Know, asked, an eyebrow raised. He seemed to hear this for the first time, so it caught him off guard. Felix and I.N. tried to hold the older one back, but he took a step closer to Chan, shooting you a glare. “Why didn't we know about this? You cannot be serious, Chan-” “Enough, Minho. I am serious, y/n will be my wife and you and the others better respect her as the lady of our clan.” Chan's voice dropped a few octaves, letting go of your hand as he fully faced Lee Know while Felix gently pulled you away from the two men for now. “I- uhm, I can leave, so you can- uhm, talk or something?” You stammered, not expecting that your presence would cause arguments in this family, but maybe this had been your father's plan all along? It didn't matter right now though, your father's plans rarely worked out, so this one, if it indeed was his intention, wouldn't work either. 

“No, you can stay. I.N. please call a meeting, I want to introduce Miss Jeong to everyone.” Chan ordered towards the youngest, who instantly hurried to gather all the other members. Lee Know scoffed, but he didn't say anything else, knowing that he wouldn't be able to change his best friend's mind anyway. Just about an hour later, all seven other members of the clan had gathered in the meeting room of the mansion, most of them unaware as to why their boss had summoned them all on such short notice. They didn't have to wait for long until the doors flew open and Chan stepped in, your hand placed onto his arm as he led you into the room with him. Upon seeing you next to Chan, Lee Know scoffed once more, arms crossed as he leaned back in his seat as Chan´s right hand, I.N. however quickly scurried to get another chair, positioned it at the farthest end of the table to sit down on it himself, so you could take his seat. 

With a smile, Chan helped you sit down and then stood at the head of the table, hands crossed on his back while looking at his men. They have rarely seen him smile, especially when outsiders were present, yet they clearly could see his rather calm and joyful expression. “My friends, you probably are wondering why I called you all here. Well, I want to introduce someone to you, someone who will live with us from now on.” He said, shooting a small glare at Lee Know before resting a hand on your shoulder, causing you to relax a bit. “I want you to welcome Jeong y/n into our family as a valued member and the lady of this clan from this day forward. Our wedding will be held in a week from now.” 

This news was met with different reactions; some happy for their boss, some suspicious, and some, like Lee Know and one other, standing up and leaving the room.

taglist: @mingis-mizu, @tinyelfperson, @hotteokkay, @minkilicious, @bunnliix,

@gong-fourz, @yeosangiess, @dinossaurz, @scuzmunkie, @h3arteyes4mingi,

@vnessalau, @oddracha

(if you want to be added to a taglist, follow the taglist-link in my pinned post)

[johnnycakesswitch]

few random hcs i figured i’d share!

Ponyboy grows taller than Darry by maybe 2 inches-he’s always been uber small for his age but by the time he’s 16 he just shoots up in height and is suddenly clumsier than Soda. His appetite also spikes and he gets SO mad because “I just ate why am I hungry again 😡” like bro gets so angry 😭

Darry is actually super good with little kids and babies. He makes faces at babies in the stores to make them laugh and I kinda like to headcanon his second job is a daycare worker or something because he just is super good with little kids and he just loves kids man

Also I saw the one about him having a super contagious laugh and I feel like it’s like that with all three Curtises-it’s not too hard to make Darry laugh surprisingly-if you tell him some dark humor joke he will die laughing-he has South Park humor lol-Soda LOVES dad jokes and puns. I don’t know why but I feel like if you make any sort of pun around him he’s just dying laughing. Pony’s the hardest to make laugh-he probably has teenage boy humor honestly-either that or he likes dry/sarcastic humor. if you manage to make any of them laugh then everyone in the room is laughing

Soda was a thumb sucker as a baby and needed braces as a kid but he pulled it off-he has the most beautiful teeth now though and he gets complimented on his smile a lot

I like to think Mr. Curtis was gigantic, like 6’7’’ and broad like Darry and Mrs. Curtis was pretty tall too-maybe 6’ or so, so all three Curtis brothers end up being pretty tall (Soda is the shortest tho-he doesn’t care tho because his mentality is “my brothers are bigger than me, bigger brothers = more brothers to cuddle” so he’s honestly just happy being the smallest (he’s 5’11’’ or so

Johnny shoots up in height too like Dally was out in the cooler for a few months and he gets out and Johnny is just towering over him like “hey Dal” and Dally’s so angry-

That’s all! No pressure to answer this, just figured i’d share!

Yay hcs!!! Pls always send me some I love yours! I’m gonna talk about them one by one

• I love the idea of Pony getting taller but also clumsier, he doesn’t know what to do with all the extra height now 😭 he totally just walks like a baby deer. And omg Darry and Soda can hardly keep up with his appetite when Pony has a growth spurt

• I love that Darry is good with babies, I can so see him being a daycare worker! I feel like when he was younger maybe Two-Bit’s mom would give him a couple dollars if she could afford it to watch his little sister and he was SO good with her. Even as she grows up she loves Darry bc she spent a lot of time at their house when she was little, I hc her to be decently younger than Two-Bit I don’t remember what I’ve said before but I think I ask I hc her to be like 7 or 8?

• I love that all the brothers have different humor, it’s so silly. Darry having dark humor is part of why he and Dally get along so well, they say the craziest shit to each other you can hear them cackling from rooms away

• I think Soda would be adorable with braces 😭😭 he probably had them kinda young like 12-14ish and he took such good care of his teeth because he wanted a beautiful smile when they came off and that’s exactly what he got 😌

• i definitely think everyone in the Curtis family is tall too- Soda definitely ends up being the smallest but he does love it

• Johnny getting taller than Dally 😭 I can so see him shooting up in height and maybe even bulking up a little and Dally is just like what the FUCK

Thank you for sending these I loved them!!

[loosesodamarble]

Welcome to the Black Bird Part 15: Austin the Suave

Summary: Introducing Finral as Austin, an elegant butler in both his looks and his honeyed words. Genre: general Word count: ~900 A/N: Finral is yet another piece drawn by @cringeyvanillamilk

..........

Finral took a deep breath as he gazed at Finesse standing across from him. The two of them were bathed in the glow of streetlamps. Water could be heard lapping at the brick pillars holding up the bridge they stood on. A salty breeze blew, making Finesse’s cascading locks dance.

“It’s time I told you the truth,” Finral started as he stared into her eyes. “The reason why I didn’t go to the spring dance with anyone else. And why I’m not looking forward to graduation. Maybe you’ll think I’m silly but it’s because…” He paused as a smile came to his face and he started to laugh self-deprecatingly.

“Cut!”

All romantic tension vanished in an instant as Finral and Finesse turned to look at the director. The man scowled and rubbed his temple.

“Would you quit with the dopey grin, Finral?! This confession scene has gotta be serious and your dumb face keeps ruining the atmosphere!” His shout made Finral wince. “We’ve been at this for an hour already!”

“Mr. Groshon, maybe it might be okay for Finral to smile,” Finesse stated while keeping her  gaze down and hands politely folded behind her back. “His character is probably really happy that his feelings are finally being heard after all.”

“Who’s the director?! Me or you?!” Mr. Groshon snapped at Finesse, making her flinch and cling to Finral. “We’ll take it from the top!” He slumped into his director’s chair. “Get it right this time or I’ll make sure you never get cast again!”

As the makeup crew touched up the actors’ faces, Finral avoided Finesse’s eyes. He knew she looked at him as if apologizing, even though he was the one to blame for their situation.

.....

“Here’s a little spell I know to ensure your meal tastes even better.” Finral kissed the tips of his index and middle finger then rubbed his thumb against them as if sprinkling something over the dishes he’d just delivered to his customers. “A little love goes a long way, and oh, how I love my fairest of ladies.”

The women at the table all colored up with rosy shades of red and pink. They giggled their “thank you”s as Finral winked and glided off.

Finral moved between the dining room tables with total awareness and perfect control of his body. He walked upright, his chest puffed out a bit, and yet he managed to look totally relaxed. His acting experience made playing his role at the cafe come easy. As he passed between tables, he threw out remarks to the customers.

“My good sir, that outfit is positively fetching on you!” Finral said to a man who looked to be struggling to break the ice with his date.

“Sweet miss, you beam as radiantly as the sun,” he proclaimed when he saw a middle-aged woman sitting alone grinning in admiration at one of the cafe’s beautifully plated dishes. And his words made his smile widen.

Along the way, Finral saw that he and “Aurelius” were about to walk between the same two tables. But neither slowed in their steps. Just when it looked like they were about to collide, Finral and “Aurelius” pivoted around each other, looking like a practiced dance.

“Next time don’t stand in the way of me and my master, Austin,” “Aurelius” sourly muttered.

Finral gave a faux chuckle and replied, “That master of yours must truly be a treasure. Perhaps I could win them over if given the chance.” He gave his best coquettish smirk which earned a glare before the Devoted Butler turned away, huffing. “Don’t be so greedy, Aurelius!”

Despite his co-worker’s glare, Finral knew there were no hard feelings. The Black Bird was a place of make-believe. Yet the camaraderie found there was real.

.....

Sparkling Cake. A cake with popping candy mixed into the frosting and sprinkled on top, making it a spectacle to see with one’s eyes and feel in one’s mouth when eaten.

It was obvious that the dish made for Finral’s persona would be a dessert to be in line with his syrupy sweet flirtations. But Secre and Finral struggled to figure out something to make it stand out more. Zora suggested the use of popping candy, something unexpected and playful, like the over-the-top pick up lines that Finral would use with customers. It was the perfect addition that made it a hit as soon as it was added to the menu.

Sweet, fun, and exciting. That was the aim of the Sparkling Cake and that was who Austin the Suave was.

Finral was used to putting on a face and taking a name that was not his. He was used to hiding his true self to please others. But at the Black Bird, he was free to put a part of himself into his role. While Finral couldn’t always mean the honeyed words he spoke to customers as Austin, the desire to see them smile was real and shared between actor and character. The customers seemed to feel it, as their gratitude for his service always seemed genuine.

There would come a day when Finral would shed all personas and face the world as himself. But for the time being, he was happy to slowly put down the mask he once wore.

[yurinaa-world]

look who's back!

I was thinking about Vash and Knives meeting the reader who is from another world, is a magical girl like miraculous, sailor moon,Magic Madoka, The owl house or Sakura Cardcaptor's

Where the reader fell into that deserted world and doesn't know what to do, but when he goes to a city he lives helping people, she can create small portions of water, she can make some plants appear in the middle of the desert.

Vash:

He knows you when he sees you playing with the children in a snow fight, and you managed to create a small portion of snow to play with, leaving the place very refreshed

Knives:

He is going to get another plant, one of his sisters, and ends up destroying everything, and you with a magical girl who values ​​justice try to comfort him.

Characters: Vash and Knives x Female Reader

Synopsis: Knives and Vash with magical girl reader

Warnings: fluff

Notes: Precure will always has a special place in my heart (✿◕‿◕✿)

𝒱𝒶𝓈𝒽 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝐻𝓊𝓂𝒶𝓃𝑜𝒾𝒹 𝒯𝓎𝓅𝒽𝑜𝑜𝓃"

The giggles of the children as they are throwing and playing in the snow, you can't help but smile at them since you came to this town, helping the people with growing plants and making potions for them, and now using your sown potions to have a little fun and feel refreshed in the dying heat of no man's land.

You smiled as you watched the children play in the fresh powder that was being created into snowballs. Vash, come and play with us please," a boy yelled at a blonde man named Vash in a crimson jacket and yellow glasses, scratching the back of his head with his metal arm in shock before smiling "sure." He smiled yay! and the boy's face beamed excitedly with a big smile.

The boy looked at you and said, "Then, Miss (Name), could you play with us as well, please?" "Yeah, Miss (Name), please play with us too!" the other kids yelled. You felt warmth from the boy's bright eyes, happiness in your chest as the child asked you, joy in seeing their happy expressions, and the way they looked up at you with an excited filled face. "I would love to," you said and gave a small smile to the children.

Before you and Vash got hit in the face with balls of snow by the children, which made you both laugh out loud, you looked over at Vash, who laughed along with you before all of the children teamed up and started to throw way more snow balls at you, making you both run away before Vash face planted on the snow covered ground.

"Mr. Vash!" you stopped to see if he was alright, going down on your knee and asking, "Are you alright?" You get cut off by many snowballs thrown at you and Vash. "We got them,"  they shouted happily, jumping high, "I'm fine,"  Vash called out, trying to get himself up and get the snow off his body.

You helped him up and brushed the snow off him, "Miss (Name) and Vash, Sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!" one of the children shouted loudly, causing you to turn quickly to the sound of the kids laughing.

Vash looked at you with a small smile, "I'm sorry if they made you uncomfortable, there kids and they don't know any better." You shook and turned to look back at him as a sympathetic smile formed on your lips, "It's fine, there kids." He nodded.

"How about round two, Miss (Name), Vash? We will beat you again for sure!" Another one said with confidence, "Yes, let's go." You smiled, "What about you, Mr. Vash?" and added, "Sure, miss (Name), but just call me Vash." He was smiling at you.

"Vash you call me (Name)!"

𝒩𝒶𝒾 “𝑀𝒾𝓁𝓁𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈 𝒦𝓃𝒾𝓋𝑒𝓈”

You hear harsh but sad notes being played on the piano; it's oblivious. Knives was the one playing it, and by listening to him, you can tell he wasn't in the best of moods today. It would be foolish for anyone to go near him when he's in a terrible mood, and you might just be one, slowly walking towards where the music was coming.

The way Knives played, no matter what song he played, it always sounded beautiful to you. Finding the sight of him playing, he already knew you were there; he didn't stop playing. You tried to be quiet to not disturb him too much. You walk over and stand beside the piano, waiting for him to finish.

Once finished, his eyes went straight to you; his eyes looked like daggers, and if it were anyone else, they would drop to their knees in fear; his eyes were filled with pure hate, but his face was blank as always: "Nai." You softly spoke his name, "Why are you here?" He scoffed, I'm worried about you; you've been in such a bad mood; did something happen?" You asked, "I don't need you pitying me." He snarled.

"I'm not pitying you, Nai; I care about you." You insisted, and knives hand reaches out to grab your collar, pulling you closer to his face and looking you straight in the eyes, but you didn't waver against him. "I'm here because I care about you," you repeated, and he released your collar, his hands falling to his sides, before moving over a bit slowly and telling you to sit down next to him.

It was a bit shocking that he did that in the mood he was in. You thought he was going to tell you to go back and leave him be. "What are you waiting for? Move before I change my mind," he threatened. You quickly moved, taking your place sitting next to him. You're both silent. "Those humans... they killed my sister," Knives said in a dark tone, breaking the silence.

You listen to him, his voice getting angrier and angrier before you take his hands and intertwine them with yours to comfort him without using words. You felt his hands tighten around your own even without showing it. He's glad to have you by his side; even if his words are cruel, you never give up on him, and he can't deny himself any more of your care any longer; he yearns for it.

if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!

[kerwynlar]

A Notable Meal

A King of Mirokan story by Kerwynlar

Chapter 1: No kink. Nate meets someone important to Lawrence and learns a lot more about his husband. Chapter 2 (will be in the reblog): Nate discovers that he likes it when Lawrence eats a lot. Really likes it.

5,350 words.

Read it below or on AO3.

~*~

Chapter 1

Nate tried not to let his driver see his frustration. It wasn’t Joshua’s fault that there was terrible traffic returning to the palace from the opening of the new exhibit at the art museum, and Nate always felt awkward raising the privacy screen mid-drive. He thought most of the staff liked him well enough but he did try to actively combat the “haughty foreign prince” stereotypes. 

Nate looked at his phone again. He was absolutely going to be late for his next appointment which was dinner with Lawrence and Irina Hubbert. Nate had no idea who Irina Hubbert was and the calendar entry on his phone had no further details or briefing materials. With nothing better to do while the car crept along through traffic, Nate texted Sophia Kelling, one of Lawrence’s aides. 

Sent: Who is Irina Hubbert? 

Received: If HM didn’t tell you it’s probably best to let him introduce her. 

Nate sighed and tapped his phone against his forehead. Great. He was going to be late for a mystery date. He knew “HM” (their shortened version of “His Majesty”) valued everything running smoothly, but surely Lawrence would understand the traffic.

 

By the time Nate reached the door to the drawing room, he was only ten minutes late. He paused to straighten his jacket and run his hand over his hair, then opened the door. 

“Oh, but darling you look so well!” 

Nate stopped in his tracks, surprised by the warm tone, not to mention the pet name. 

The speaker was a tall, broad woman who Nate guessed was in her sixties, and as he watched, she reached forward and hugged Lawrence. Nate blinked. He was pretty sure he could count on one hand the number of people in the world who would be permitted to hug Lawrence, and he was one of them. But the king was smiling broadly. They pulled back and the woman reached down and patted Lawrence’s belly. 

“You’ve finally managed to put some meat on your bones,” she said, “I’m so pleased.” 

Lawrence had recently had to have all of his suits let out to accommodate the weight he had gained. While it wasn’t obvious to the casual observer, Nate felt (and Lawrence’s doctor agreed) that Lawrence had gone from too thin to a healthier weight. He had even started to gain a very slight paunch at his middle that Nate absolutely treasured. 

Whoever this woman was, she certainly seemed to be fond of Lawrence. Nate cleared his throat and started forward again, and both Lawrence and the woman turned to him. 

“Your Majesty,” Nate said, bowing to Lawrence, “I’m so sorry I’m late. Traffic coming from the museum was a nightmare.” 

“Nothing to worry about,” Lawrence said, reaching for him. 

Nate took his hand and Lawrence pulled him closer, wrapping his arm around Nate’s waist and giving him a squeeze. 

Lawrence turned back to the woman. “Nathaniel, may I present Mrs. Irina Hubbert. Mrs. Hubbert, I’m very happy to introduce you to my husband, Prince Consort Nathaniel.” 

Mrs. Hubbert gave an old-fashioned curtsy. “I’m honored to meet you, Prince Consort.” 

“Very nice to meet you as well, Mrs. Hubbert,” Nate said with a friendly smile. He glanced at Lawrence for some clue about what came next. 

“Mrs. Hubbert was my nurse and then my governess when I was a child,” Lawrence told him. “She and Mrs. Zeese basically raised me.” 

“Mrs. Zeese was on night duty,” Mrs. Hubbert said. 

“Oh!” Nate exclaimed. “Oh how wonderful! Mrs. Hubbert, I am thrilled to have the opportunity to get to know you. I want all the stories of His Majesty as a child.” 

Mrs. Hubbert laughed. “I suspect if I told you everything I might be guilty of treason.” 

“Mrs. Hubbert, you couldn’t commit treason if you tried,” Lawrence chuckled. “But Nathaniel and I have been married for less than a year. I think there are some things that can wait a little while.” 

They moved to the sofas and Nate sat close beside Lawrence, facing Mrs. Hubbert. 

“So were you here when he was first adopted, Mrs. Hubbert?” Nate asked. 

“Oh yes,” she said. “The butler at the time hired Mrs. Zeese and me right after the vote. I don’t think he even asked Princess Saraphina.” 

“The vote?” Nate frowned in confusion. 

“When Parliament formally rejected my parents’ proposal to change the constitution to let their biological children inherit the throne,” Lawrence said, smoothing his hand over his waistcoat. “Once they had been formally rebuffed, they had to take the next child eligible for adoption. And obviously that was me.” 

“I didn’t realize it had come down to a parliamentary vote!” Nate said, aghast. 

Lawrence nodded. “Part of the reason they were so old when they got me was because my grandfather stayed on the throne until my father was 50, but then my parents delayed adopting and lobbied for years to try to change the constitution.” 

“I don't think there was a single Mirokanian who was pleased by the royal family pulling that stunt,” Mrs. Hubbert said with a frown. “Including palace staff. Even if the king and princess consort weren’t going to prepare for the rightful heir, by god the staff was.”

“I knew your father was unpopular,” Nate said, racking his brain for information on the prior king of Mirokan. “Is that why? Because he tried to change the succession?” 

Lawrence nodded. “It was one of the first things he tried to do when he took the throne, and I think people never forgave him or my mother for it. I think my people tend to give me the benefit of the doubt when I change things or try something new. No one was willing to do that for him after the business with the succession.” 

“The heir to the throne is ours,” Mrs. Hubbert said. “That’s what the old king and the princess didn’t understand. It matters to us that the heir is of the people. That but for timing and luck, any of us might have been the heir.” 

“So Parliament forced my parents to take me, more or less against their will,” Lawrence said. “And by that time they were well past their years of wanting to deal with a baby, even their own. Then to top it all off, I was difficult-“ 

“You were not difficult, Lawrence,” Mrs. Hubbert said sternly. “You were in pain and had no way to express it besides crying. It was not your fault.” She turned to Nate. “The poor little love was such a colicky baby. It took us months to work out just how serious his stomach issues were.” 

Nate’s heart broke a little and he squeezed Lawrence’s knee. 

“In the meantime,” Lawrence said, “my parents were more than happy to hand me over to Mrs. Hubbert and Mrs. Zeese. And I will be forever grateful to them for taking such good care of me.” 

Lawrence and Mrs. Hubbert shared a warm look. 

“How old was he when he was adopted?” Nate asked after a moment. 

“Nine months,” Mrs. Hubbert said. “He was a little darling when he wasn’t crying. Desperate to be held all the time. Loved anyone who would give him a cuddle. We didn't get much information but it seemed like he was not cared for well before he was adopted. When he got here and had the whole staff fussing over him, he just couldn’t get enough of hugs.” 

Nate glanced fondly at his husband, who was looking a tad embarrassed. He knew Lawrence liked physical affection but it was sweet to hear that he had always been that way. 

“Was he terribly precocious?” Nate asked, turning back to Mrs. Hubbert. “I’ve always pictured him reading macroeconomics textbooks at age five.” 

Mrs. Hubbert chuckled. “Maybe not economics quite that early, but he was reading when he was 4, I think. And we started teaching him some signs as soon as we got him and he picked them up immediately.” 

“I think dinner is going to be served soon,” Lawrence said, in a transparent attempt to change the subject. “Mrs. Hubbert, did you hear that Helen is the head chef of the palace now?” 

“I did.” Mrs. Hubbert beamed. “I also heard that you paid for her to go to culinary school.” 

Lawrence nodded with a smile. “I did.” 

Nate looked between them. “Why did you pay for Chef Helen to go to culinary school?” 

“Helen was a junior kitchen assistant or something when I was a child,” Lawrence told him. 

“She lied about her age to get a job here!” Mrs. Hubbert put in. 

Lawrence chuckled. “That’s right. She couldn’t have been more than 14 when she was hired. But she stayed, and kept getting promoted. And when Chef Tucker told me he was retiring, I really wanted someone who was part of my wonderful memories in that kitchen to take over. So I asked Chef Tucker to stay at least part time until Helen could finish culinary school, and he was kind enough to do it for me.” 

“What kind of good memories?” Nate asked quietly, slipping his hand into Lawrence’s. 

“Oh, I spent hours and hours there,” Lawrence said, his eyes alight. “I didn’t like being alone as a child, so especially when I was supposed to be studying, I would go tuck myself into a corner of the kitchen where it was nice and warm and bright, and I would have the bustle as background noise while I did my work. There was always fresh-baked bread for me and they were always bringing me bits of this and that to taste. Chef Tucker said that even if I couldn’t eat things, I should know what they tasted like, so he would give me little bits of whatever he was cooking in quantities that, in theory, were small enough not to bother my stomach.” 

Mrs. Hubbert snorted. 

Lawrence grimaced and scratched his cheek. “That theory was not always true in practice.” 

“On orders from his doctor, I was trying to keep an accurate food log for this child,” Mrs. Hubbert told Nate, “and I would ask him what he had eaten in the kitchen, and he would say so sweetly, ‘it was just a taste, Mrs. Hubbert!’ And then when he was writhing in pain an hour later I had to march down to the kitchen and deal with a chef who ‘cooked to taste, not to recipes’.” She rolled her eyes extravagantly. 

“My food log got easier once the ministers started kidnapping me and I spent less time in the kitchen,” Lawrence said. 

“I’m sorry, what?” 

Before Nate could get an answer, the door opened and one of the servants entered. 

“Your Majesty,” the servant said, “dinner can be served whenever you are ready.” 

“Shall we eat?” Lawrence said as he started to get up. 

“If Mrs. Hubbert is ready,” Nate said. “But I want to hear about getting kidnapped by ministers!” 

Mrs. Hubbert stood. “Oh, I’m very excited about a meal cooked by Chef Helen!” 

When they were seated, Nate noticed that Lawrence had a huge smile on his face, but his eyes looked a little misty. Nate reached out to touch his arm. “Lawrence? What is it?” 

Lawrence covered Nate’s hand with his own. “I’m just very happy.” He looked from Nate to Mrs. Hubbert. “Having the two of you here with me…” he shook his head. “It makes me very happy.” 

Mrs. Hubbert reached over to squeeze Lawrence’s other hand. 

The moment was broken by servants entering carrying steaming dishes. Fresh, warm bread (a staple on Lawrence’s table) was placed in the center and each diner was presented with a bowl of fragrant stew. 

“I asked Helen to make Chef Tucker’s chicken stew,” Lawrence told Mrs. Hubbert. “It was your favorite, wasn’t it?” 

Mrs. Hubbert frowned at Lawrence’s dish. “Yes, but they’ve brought you the same thing!”

“Mmhm,” Lawrence said, picking up his spoon and going to take a bite. 

“Darling, you can’t eat that!” Mrs. Hubbert exclaimed. 

Lawrence chuckled. “You still remember all my dietary restrictions, Mrs. Hubbert?” 

“Of course I do!” she replied indignantly. “But it would be hard to forget onions!” 

“I’m trying to build up more of a tolerance to them,” Lawrence told her and took a bite. 

“Oh, your poor stomach! Why?” 

“You heard I’m going to Elendria to meet the president in a few months?” 

“Yes, and I heard that you did the Rite of the Seven Glasses.” She gave him a stern look. 

Lawrence put up his hands. “For diplomacy, Mrs. Hubbert! I wasn’t just getting drunk and I only did it because the minister insisted!” 

Her expression softened. “You must have been quite ill afterwards.” 

“I was a mess for a couple days.” He looked fondly at Nate. “Fortunately, I had my wonderful husband looking after me.” 

Mrs. Hubbert turned to Nate. “And what does the wonderful husband think about the king exposing himself to a food that his doctors have said he shouldn’t eat?” 

Nate quickly swallowed his mouthful of stew. “I’m in favor only because the king’s current gastroenterologist has signed off on it and is monitoring him closely,” he assured her. 

“He’s ultrasounding my stomach every two weeks to make sure I’m not causing damage,” Lawrence said. “I’ll stop if he finds something wrong, but my trip to Elendria will be much smoother if I can eat the food without undue discomfort and the Elendrians seem incapable of preparing food without onions.” 

Mrs. Hubbert ate a few bites of her meal before asking, “Does your doctor think exposure will work?” 

“He thinks it’s worth a try,” Lawrence said. 

“Is it worth making yourself repeatedly feel unwell?” 

Lawrence glanced at Nate with a smile. “I’ve gotten better at handling the indigestion. That’s how I’ve gotten fat.” 

“You’re not fat, Lawrence,” Mrs. Hubbert and Nate said simultaneously. 

They all laughed. 

“I’d rather have indigestion here and at times of my choosing if it means I might have an easier time in Elendria,” Lawrence said. “I figure you of all people would understand if I’m a bit sluggish after the meal, Mrs. Hubbert.”

“Of course, darling,” she said. “I hope the exposure works and makes eating Elendrian food easier.” She turned to Nate. “Are you going with him to Elendria, prince consort?” 

“Oh, please call me Nate or Nathaniel,” Nate said with a smile. “And I understand that the diplomats are working out now whether or not I’m going. Vyrian’s relationship with Elendria is very different than Mirokan’s. I’ve been there several times and I speak a little Elendrian. I haven’t met the current president but I met her predecessor.” 

“I very much want Nathaniel to join me,” Lawrence said. “But since the president is unmarried, I believe the diplomats are trying to figure out the logistics of what to do with him while the president and I are meeting.” He glanced warmly at Nate. “I’m sure I would benefit from him being in the room with me but we’ll have to content ourselves with him advising me after a recap in the evenings.” 

Nate smiled warmly at the praise and ate a little more stew before remembering the prior conversation. 

“Wait!” he said. “What was that about being kidnapped by ministers?” 

Lawrence chuckled. “When I was… eleven?” he looked to Mrs. Hubbert for confirmation and she nodded. Lawrence continued. “I was coming out of school one day, and the car that was waiting for me wasn’t my usual one, or my usual driver. I looked at my bodyguard, and he said it was alright, but I did have a moment of fear that he had sold me out to kidnappers or something.” 

“Was that Gerald?” Mrs. Hubbert asked. 

“Yes, it was,” Lawrence told her.

“He was sweet on me,” she said with a sly grin. 

“Oh, I know,” Lawrence said emphatically. 

Nate considered pulling on that thread, but decided to leave it alone. 

“So Gerald opens the back door,” Lawrence continued with his story, “and inside was Peter Morvan, who was the Secretary of Finance at the time. And he said to me ‘Come along, crown prince. It’s time you learned how the Treasury works.’ So I got in and he took me to his office and kept me there until suppertime, explaining exactly what it was he did and a very broad overview of how the Treasury works. Then he sent me home and told me he’d see me in a week or two. The next day, the Secretary of Foreign Affairs picked me up and did the same thing. After I’d cycled through the whole cabinet the Finance Secretary was back and this time he dropped me off with one of his undersecretaries. 

“It kept going more or less until I went to university. Four days per week, I would go to a government agency after school and sometimes the secretary would take me to a meeting or something, but most of the time I was babysat by a civil servant who would talk to me about their job and tell me what they thought the future king should know. Some people were awkward and uncomfortable with it, but most people were enthusiastic. It was the best education I could have asked for.” 

“That’s incredible!” Nate enthused. “Did the ministers just take it upon themselves to educate you?” 

“For a time I assumed my father had directed them, but apparently he knew nothing about it for years,” Lawrence said flatly. 

Nate felt a lump in his throat at the thought of Lawrence believing that his father had done something kind for him, only to realize it wasn’t the case. 

“The king’s personal assistant realized that, based on the king’s schedule, he couldn’t be spending much time with the prince,” Mrs. Hubbert was saying. “The assistant came to me, and I confirmed that the king really only spent time with him at formal events.” 

“The monarch is supposed to teach their heir to govern,” Lawrence said in the same flat tone. “If they don’t, then we might as well pick someone at random to take the throne when the monarch dies. When the assistant realized that wasn’t happening, he went to the Secretary of Finance, who talked to the rest of the cabinet.” He sighed and smiled a little. “I’m grateful to the entire cabinet. They all helped me with the vote on dissolving the regency and many of them stayed in their posts through the regency and for at least the first year of my reign.” 

Nate frowned, trying again to remember recent Mirokanian history. He knew that the old king had died when Lawrence was a teenager and there had been regents in charge until Lawrence was coronated. “The vote to dissolve the regency? Didn’t it dissolve when you graduated from university?” 

Lawrence nodded. “But many people wanted it to dissolve when I turned 18 and have me take the throne. I had to lobby Parliament to let me go to university instead. In the end Parliament voted to keep the regency in place until I turned 22 or until I graduated, whatever came first. I had to promise that I would do my best to graduate in three years and participate in meetings with the cabinet and the regents regularly.” 

“The regents were very unpopular,” Mrs. Hubbert told Nate, “and the people wanted their king.” 

“I wasn’t ready,” Lawrence said firmly, eyes on Mrs. Hubbert. “The entire cabinet agreed with me that I should continue my education. If I’d taken the throne that young it would have been a disaster.” 

Mrs. Hubbert opened her mouth and closed it again, pressing her lips together. 

This was clearly an argument they’d had before, and Nate decided to steer them back to safer waters. 

“It all seems to have worked out well,” he said with a bright smile. “Do you have other children, Mrs. Hubbert?” 

~*~

Please continue reading Chapter 2 in a reblog.

[amyyythestarry]

Decided to show y’all my old Halloween au.

——

[ Fairy Hotel Maid ]

1:27 AM

Ding— Ding—

The entrance doorbell rang subtly, announcing that a person came through the door.

The counter attendant, with sharp, jagged citrine yellow teeth, dark teal skin, cream colored horns and large wrecked wings, looked up from his phone and pupil-less eyes widened upon seeing the familiar violet haired fairy.

“Ah? Ms. Ao-chan? Why come through the front door??” The gargoyle said with a smile on his wrinkled face. He had an odd way of talking, his speech was becoming more distinguishable though.

The said hotel maid beamed at him. “Oh, y’know, I just took a midnight walk.” She giggled.

The employee titled his head to the side. Something was off about the air fairy's aura, not in a bad way though, it was brighter than usual actually.

“Ms. Ao-chan, upturned, why??” 

“Me? Why?? Why not!” 

The gargoyle smiled along with the hotel maid. 

“Let me guess, k?”

“Guess, why I’m happy? Ok I guess, go ahead Mr. 

Renkinkoo.”

The gargoyle, known as Renkinkoo, began guessing. Why could the maid look so happy now, at 1:30 AM?

“Out with someone?” Aoi gave a incredulous look.

“Saw new flowers bloom?”

“Cafe open at 1:00, finally?”

“Special event??”

 Aoi, looked to the side smugly.

“Ah ha! Let’s see…….. Fall Homecoming?” 

Aoi smiled brighter, bursting with laughter this time, but composed herself because it was too early in the morning, people were still asleep.

“Oh wow!! You're so good at guessing Mr. Renkinkoo! You're correct.” She clapped her white gloved hands for Renkinkoo.

Renkinkoo laughed along, but didn’t stop to silence his voice. The laugh was short though.

Aoi looked left and right, searching for something, or someone. Some people? There was none. She sighed in relief.

“I’ve never been so happy for Fall Homecoming before, truthfully. I don’t like big, social events much. Not if I have to interact with people other than close friends all week. Day and night. But, this time is special. Really special.”

Aoi looked around once more, not even Mokke was out. She cupped her right hand beside her mouth, further quieting her voice.

“Do you want to know why?”

The counter gargoyle employee was intrigued. He nodded his head rapidly with bushy, furrowed eyebrows and a huge grin, still showing his two large fangs.

The famous fairy hotel maid got close to Renkinkoo’s ear, whispering,

“I heard that the full moon is now on September 15th.”

Renkinkoo pulled back, and so did Aoi. Although, Renkinkoo was confused. 

“Full moon?? Why so crucial???” 

Aoi giggled once again, at the gargoyle’s ignorance and short memory.

Everyone knew what happened during full moons.

“C’mon Mr. Renkinkoo, don’t you know what happens then? When the moon turns full?”

“……….”

“Wolf people go nuts?” Renkinkoo tilted his head.

Aoi laughed again.

“No no! Not just that!! You need your head checked, or something.”

“The curses wake up.”

—————

[ Hotel Manager ]

3:54 AM

Knock Knock Knock

No sound was heard after those knocks. No voice came from the other side of the door, from inside room 303.

The Hotel Manager knew that, that’s why he knocked. Just so he could say ‘Come in’ in his head.

Twisting the door knob and opening the door to the room on the third floor In Department 7, the vampire supernatural manager came in.

No one was in the room. The only soul in the room was the one in the coffin. Deep purple dyed wood, regular looking, covered with stars, moons, and other celestial beings. 

Labeled ‘Tsukasa’.

The male smiled upon looking at the coffin. Walking over to a chair in the corner, by the closet covered in cobwebs.

The room gets dusty so fast. 

He said it was a good thing the chair wasn’t dirty. He hates dust.

He picked up the chair and sat it right by the coffin. 

Before the manager sat down he pulled out a gold key from his pants pocket, and put it in the key hole of the coffin.

The coffin clicked open.

The manager opened the coffin further, slowly revealing a… boy.

A dark skinned boy, with black 3B hair and scarred arms crossed over his chest.

He looked exactly like the manager.

The manager sat down on the chair, glancing at all the lavender, cardinals, and daisies in the coffin, as well as the black hitodama dancing around it, before speaking to the other person in the room.

“Good morning Tsukasa, I know it’s 3:00 AM, but still.”

The boy in the coffin didn’t answer, as he was ‘sound asleep’.

“How are you?”

The boy never said anything. But with the twitch of his mouth curving slightly upwards, and his black hitodama bobbing up and down, that was all the answers the manager needed.

“That’s good, that’s good!” The vampire supernatural smiled widely, “How I’m doing? Just great!”

“Hey, you wanna hear some news?”

The hitodama nodded again.

“I heard that the full moon is now on September 15th.”

The boy’s eyebrows raised a little, his hitodama had comical stars dancing around them as they floated around.

“I know right? It was totally out of the blue, but informative. Now you can celebrate the coming of fall with me!”

The black hitodama circled around the manager, he chuckled.

“I’d have to find a new tailor quickly then, yeah~? The last one sucked, all the outfits weren’t fit for you. The silver rings you had always burned my skin. By your name, she thought you were a girl!” The manager laughed again.

The hitodama beamed even more at the mention of a new tailor. The other hitodama that belonged to the manager mimicked the black ones’ movement.

“I have an interview with the people who volunteered, on the 11th. I’ll pick a good one this time, I was way too distracted and stressed last time.”

The hitodama floated back to the sides of the coffin, showing they calmed down.

“But I didn’t just come here to tell you all that,”  the manager made a dismissive gesture, “I also wanted to ask If you’d prefer yogurt or milk.”

The hitodama titled to the left. The boy’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“I know it’s a ridiculous question but I need to know for the kitchen staff. For whatever reason? I don’t know anything either.”

“I chose milk. I don’t like plain milk that much, but yogurt is way worse in my opinion.”

The souls of the boy in the coffin looked over to the other, and then the boy. The boy still had a small smile on his face, but the hitodama turned to the manager once again. 

The manager somehow understood the black hitodama, and grinned.

“Tsukasa likes banana milk, I know. So I’m assuming milk then? I’ll tell Kou.” 

The manager talked to the ‘unconscious’ boy until the time was 4:07.

He had to do his waiting staff job. People tended to get up at this time, some were even awake before, but that job started at 4:00 AM.

“I’m not late or anything, I’m in charge after all. I’d still want to talk to you more, but I can be busy. The advertisements for the Ghoul Hotel are getting better, people are begging to stay.”

The manager began to sit up from the chair, he stood in front of the coffin as the chair moved back to its spot by the closet because of the vampire’s telekinesis.

He stared at the coffin for a few seconds with an empty smile, glancing back over to the flowers laying beside the boy, and the boy wearing classic white pajamas. The boy was still smiling.

“I’ll see you later Tsukasa…”

Sighing, a solemn face replaced the one he had before. Ever so slowly pulling out the golden key he used before, pushing the coffin closed and locking it with the key.

Once he closed the coffin, Tsukasa adorned a peaceful expression again, falling back asleep.

Hanako opened the door and walked out, heading downstairs to start working. Entertaining his guest wasn’t so hard, it was kind of draining, but after a while of not getting any guests and having the luxury of long rest, his burn out burnt out.

He was fine again. He could work. If it meant socializing, then it wasn’t that bad. That’s coming from the person who’s really not social.

When Hanako reached the bottom of the stairs, he could already spot familiar faces wandering around.

He put on his best, brightest, signature smile and called out a “Hey~ Tsuchigomori!” to a certain older man with multiple arms, hands and eyes.

—————

[ Undersea Waiting Staff ]

“Aoooooi! Guess what, guess what!” A young lady with pale hair and teal tips yelled out to her fairy best friend.

The said fairy turned towards the call, to her left, there was a girl she knew all too well running towards her.

“Aoi Aoi Aoi, guess what guess what!!!” The girl squealed, flapping her hands around excitedly.

Aoi smiled brighter at the sight of her energetic best friend.

“What is it Nene-chan?!” She said, trying to match the girl’s energy.

Yashiro Nene stopped in front of Aoi, grinning ear to ear.

“The hotel cafe is serving vanilla pancakes with blue dragonflies! And with that you can get a shisha no sumūjī!!” 

“Oh really?”

“Yes really!! We have to go over to get breakfast! Can we?!” Nene was bouncing on her toes now, waiting impatiently for Aoi’s response.

Aoi thought for a moment, “Well…… This place doesn’t really need tidying up..”

“Do you know what other things they have on the menu? I’m not interested in sea insects..” Aoi chuckled.

“Oh yeah, they also have regular stuff like strawberry crepes, scrambled eggs with bacon and syrup, painted lady fruit salads- oh wait you don’t eat butterflies.. But there are other things, the pancakes and smoothies are just new!”

Aoi nodded her head, answering with an ‘ok’, and Nene bounced up and down, hugged Aoi tight before dragging her over to the exit of Department 7 and went to the restaurant hotel building.

Once they got there they saw that it wasn’t so packed, it was only 4:26 after all. That was a good thing, there were a lot of tables open.

Nene leads Aoi to their favorite table in the restaurant, the one near the kitchen staff, where you get to watch them work while eating.

And, expectedly, they found their other good friend that worked as a kitchen staff.

“Hey Kou-kun, good morning!” Nene greets.

The werewolf kitchen staff named Kou turned his attention from the meal he was making to the girl who called his name.

“Hello Senpais! Good morning. Here for breakfast?” 

The two girls nodded, taking a seat on the high stools.

“Ok, what’s the order?” Kou asked, handing the meal he finished making over to a waitress and pulled out a notepad and pen.

“I want the vanilla pancakes with dragonflies and shisha no sumūjī.”

“I want the vegetable burrito with some green tea please.”

The werewolf wrote the orders down on the notepad and went off to the kitchen.

Aoi and Nene waited patiently while talking.

Aoi felt three taps on her shoulder to her right, when she turned around she met the face of the manager.

Aka, half cousin.

“Hey Hanako,” she said regularly, “Having breakfast early today?”

“Oh no, I’m not ready. Just having a drink.” Hanako answered, swirling a glass cup of dark maroon ‘liquid’.

Nene, from the corner of Aoi’s eyes, covered her nose with both hands, recognizing the smell of the drink quickly. She scooted a little farther from the two.

Aoi and Hanako looked over to Nene.

“What’s wrong?” Aoi asked, tilting her head.

Nene eyed the drink warily, “Nothing… I’d.. Just appreciate it if Hanako-kun gets that cup away from me.”

Hanako put on an incredulous look, “Why? I thought you liked blood??”

“I mean….. I do.. But I want to stop drinking it, I’m on a diet now!”

A moment of silence passed between the three of them, until Hanako bursted out laughing loudly.

“Ha ha ha!! Diet? Diet!?! That’s the funniest thing I’ve heard all morning!!” The manager held his stomach.

“Stop, it isn’t a joke! I’m serious! I’m trying to stop drinking blood.” 

“Are you sure? You’re not that good at controlling your food impulses.”

“Oh shut up, I can control impulses! I’m not just a siren, I’m also a mermaid. Mermaids don’t eat males. My mother’s a siren, she stopped eating males.” Nene glared at Hanako, crossing her arms.

“So? That doesn’t mean you can do it. I’ve seen you try before. Here, wanna try my drink?” 

Hanako put the glass cup up to Nene’s face. The smell of the blood flowed through her, but she instantly covered her nose again and leaned away.

“No no, I don’t!”

“Oh c’mon, he was only 16, it’s fresh!”

“No thank you!! It doesn’t matter how young the guy was!”

Aoi stared stoic at her cousin and best friend fighting, she pushed Hanako back and sighed.

“Ok Hanako, leave her alone. If she wants to go on a diet let her be.” 

Hanako rolled his eyes with a smirk, continuing to sip on the red liquid, just as Kou was coming back from the back, having two trays in hand.

——

I then decided to rewrite it.

At first the first prologue chapter of EOTM was just a random oneshot, but somehow I decided to make it into a new Halloween au.

So yeah.

[ofkenner]

   𝑐𝘩𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑟⧸𝑓𝑖𝑙𝑒 :   mallory 'mal' kenner   ››   hybrid   ››  lola tung  .

❛❛   aesthetic.  ❜❜   ―   ◜   ❏  . ― the glow of eyes as moonlight drifts over her cheeks , the memories of her family left inside the large empty space no longer called home , the mask of a naive helpless girl , catching fireflies . ―   ◜   ❏  . ―  →

𝐈 . . . 𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 !

name . . . . mallory kenner

nicknames . . . . mal

age . . . . 18

sexuality . . . . pansexual

date of birth . . . . october 31st

place of birth . . . new orleans

gender . . . . cis woman

pronouns . . . . she + her

current location . . . . beacon hills , CA

languages . . . . english , spanish , chinese .

𝐈𝐈 . . . 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 !

zodiac . . . . scorpio

bad habits . . . . losing her temper .

hobbies . . . . gardening , baking

fears . . . . already happened and it was losing jackson and mary

other mentionable details . . . . mal is the half-sister of jackson kenner .

𝐈𝐈𝐈 . . . 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒 !

faceclaim . . . . lola tung

height . . . . 5'6''

hair color . . . . brown

eye color . . . . brown

scars . . . . n/a

𝐈𝐕 . . . 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 !

parents names . . . . mrs. kenner ( mother / deceased ) + mr. kenner ( father / deceased )

parents relationship . . . . none . they died when mal was a little girl so she has no memories of them . but father figure would be jackson .

siblings names . . . . jackson kenner ( half-brother ) .

pets . . . . n/a

income . . . what she gets working at a bakery

residence . . . . apartment building roommates with bella swan , open wc , and open wc .

𝐕 . . . 𝐁𝐈𝐎𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐘 !

―  Mallory was conceived and born while her mother, mrs.kenner , was possessed by a demon. It should be noted however, that how she was conceived is still unclear as mal is apparently unique or at least not easily replicated, and possessions do not usually cause pregnancies. Either way , mrs. kenner managed to regain control of her body long enough to exorcise the demon from her body during labor with the help of a witch and mary dumas .

―  when mallory was born they quickly knew that mr.kenner was not the father and given the fact that this child was part demon . something unheard of and unnatural , they contemplated killing the newborn, for fear that she would be evil, but instead they later regretted the thought when they saw jackson carrying his new sibling and both laughing and smiling .

―  mallory never really got to know her parents . they died long before she could even form memories of them , when the vampires attacked the werewolves and many were killed. The vampire convinced a witch to put a curse on the pack, which trapped the surviving Crescents who had triggered their werewolf genes in their wolf forms. Their only respite being the night of the full moon, when they were briefly able to transform back into humans for a few short hours.

―  While growing up, she was basically raised by jackson , despite him being like most kids with the werewolf gene : very angry, and when he ultimately killed a human and triggered his werewolf gene, he only became angrier because it also triggered his Crescent Curse, which forced him into his wolf form full-time . Leaving mallory on her own at such a young age at 8 .

―  still jackson kept watch over her and mallory would look after the wolves . she always knew what to do and jackson taught her how to take care of herself and never reveal to others her true eyes . eventually at 12 mal triggered her curse when she killed a human. but because she was part demon , mallory had no control of her wolf and would go on a killing spree . the curse not affecting her much but on the night of the full moon , mary and jackson would lock her up.

―  soon hayley came in the picture along with the mikaelsons . At first , mal was happy and protective of the woman jackson would marry. ANDREA . but soon saw she came with dangerous baggage ; THE MIKAELSONS . She started to dislike hayley as she saw jackson hope to have a chance with her and clearly saw she was in love with another. she hated the marriage was something forced but tolerated it because jackson married her for himself. He loved her until the very end .

―  with losing her brother at just 14 , mal hated the mikaelsons and blames them and hayley for his death . Despite mary telling her not to . Mallory left new orleans at 16 and found a new home in beacon hills , where she works at a bakery and became manager over the last 2 years . Still keeping to her secret . still , mal could feel a darkness coming for them all .