#and there are some friends where you don’t talk for a year and then you have a nice convo and part ways again for another year

[cherryxbooo]

I’ll do anything to make you happy

Summary: You were excited for winter break to start because it meant one thing: spending more time with Lando. But little did you know, that was the one thing you wouldn't be getting.

Reader x Lando Norris

Genre: fluff/angst

Winter always held a special kind of charm for me.

The frosty mornings, cozy blankets, and steaming cups of cocoa had always made this season my favorite.

But this year, it held a different promise: Lando finally had a break from racing.

After months of hectic schedules, jet-setting across the globe, and stolen moments in between races, I was looking forward to having him all to myself.

At first, it was everything I’d imagined and more.

We spent lazy mornings tangled in bed, with me teasing him about his messy hair while he pulled me closer, claiming I was his personal heater.

Breakfasts turned into brunches because we couldn’t stop talking or joking around.

We watched movies, baked cookies that turned out terrible, and played endless rounds of Mario Kart, which I always managed to win.

“You’re only winning because I’m letting you,” Lando said one evening, his grin teasing as he tossed the controller onto the couch.

“Sure you are,” I replied, laughing as I grabbed my victory snack from the table.

Those first few days felt like we were in our own little world, where nothing else mattered but us.

But soon, reality began creeping in.

It started innocently enough.

“Babe, Max just called,” Lando said one morning, leaning against the counter with his coffee mug in hand.

“He’s organizing a karting session. Shouldn’t take long.”

I smiled, my heart swelling with pride.

Racing was his passion, and I loved seeing him happy. “Go have fun. Just don’t let him beat you.”

“Never,” he said with a wink, kissing my temple quickly before heading out.

That day, I didn’t mind the quiet. I worked on some projects, caught up with friends, and even took a long bath.

By the time he got home, his cheeks were flushed with cold, and he couldn’t stop talking about how much fun he’d had.

But karting soon turned into golf.

Golf turned into poker nights. And poker nights turned into outings that stretched late into the night.

“I’ll be back soon,” he’d text, always with a heart emoji. But “soon” became later and later each time.

I told myself it was fine. He deserved this break.

He’d worked so hard all year, and if spending time with his friends helped him unwind, who was I to complain?

But as the days wore on, the house began to feel emptier, and so did I.

One evening, I decided to surprise him with his favorite dinner.

I spent hours in the kitchen, setting the table with candles and dimming the lights for a cozy atmosphere.

When Lando walked through the door, his expression softened as he took in the setup.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” he said, wrapping his arms around me.

“I wanted to,” I replied, smiling up at him.

“You’ve been so busy, and I thought it’d be nice to have a quiet night together.”

“That’s so sweet,” he said, leaning down to kiss me.

“But the guys are waiting for me. I promised I’d meet them for drinks tonight. Let’s rain check this?”

My smile faltered, but I nodded. “Of course.”

He kissed me again and was out the door before I could say anything more.

I sat down at the table, staring at the empty chair across from me.

The candles flickered, their light reflecting off the untouched plates. I took a deep breath, telling myself it was okay.

But deep down, a tiny crack had formed in my heart.

Days turned into weeks, and the cracks only deepened.

Lando’s absence became more noticeable, and I began to feel like a ghost in our own home.

One evening, after scrolling through endless photos of him with his friends on Instagram, I called Mia, my best friend.

“What’s wrong?” she asked the moment she picked up.

I sighed, the weight of my emotions pressing down on me.

“It’s Lando. He’s been spending so much time with his friends lately, and I feel like I’m… invisible.”

Mia was quiet for a moment before saying, “Y/N, you’re not invisible. But you need to talk to him. He’s not a mind reader.”

“I don’t want to seem clingy,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

“You’re not clingy. You’re his girlfriend. He should want to spend time with you. Talk to him.”

Her words gave me the push I needed. That night, when Lando came home, I gathered my courage.

“Can we talk?” I asked, my heart pounding in my chest.

“Of course,” he said, sitting down next to me.

I took a deep breath.

“I’ve been feeling… neglected lately. I know you’re enjoying your break, and I want you to have fun, but I miss us. I miss you.”

He frowned, reaching for my hand.

“Babe, I’m sorry if it feels that way. But I’m here now, aren’t I?”

I nodded, but his words didn’t ease the ache in my chest. Before I could say more, he kissed me and stood up.

“Max needs help with something,” he said, grabbing his keys. “Love you!”

And just like that, he was gone. Again.

I tried my best to push away all negative thoughts until I thought about the positive ones.

Our second anniversary was just days away, and I held onto the hope that he’d make it special.

I told myself the late nights didn’t matter. He was probably planning something incredible for our anniversary.

The next day,

The morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in soft golden hues.

I stretched lazily, a content smile curling my lips as I reached across the bed.

My fingers met cold sheets. The space beside me was empty.

I frowned, the giddy excitement I had woken up with faltering.

Today was our second anniversary.

I had imagined waking up wrapped in Lando’s arms, whispering sleepy “Happy anniversary” wishes before sharing breakfast together.

Instead, he was gone.

I also realized that I hadn't heard him come back last night.

He told me he was just helping Max out with something, but he probably went out partying with his friends afterward, again.

I tried to shake off the disappointment as I climbed out of bed, brushing my hair out of my face.

Maybe he had planned a surprise and needed to step out early.

A flutter of hope lifted my spirits as I grabbed my robe and headed toward the kitchen.

The scent of coffee greeted me, but there was no sign of Lando.

Instead, on the counter, I found a note written in his familiar scrawl:

“Gone golfing with the guys. Be back later. Love you.”

My heart sank. Golfing? On our anniversary?

I swallowed the lump rising in my throat, trying to focus on the fact that he had said he’d be back later.

He wouldn’t forget our dinner, right?

We’d planned this evening together weeks ago, and I’d been looking forward to it ever since.

I folded the note and placed it aside, telling myself not to overthink it. He would be back in time.

He promised.

After a quick breakfast, I set to work preparing for the evening.

My heart thudded with a mix of excitement and nervousness as I laid out my plans.

Lando had been so busy lately, and this was my chance to remind him how much I loved him, despite everything.

I spent hours in the kitchen, cooking all his favorite dishes: his go-to pasta, a roasted chicken dish he always requested, and even the dessert I’d failed at three times before finally perfecting.

The smells of herbs, garlic, and chocolate filled the apartment, making it feel warm and inviting.

Between stirring pots and chopping vegetables, I took breaks to set up the dining table.

I draped it with a soft cream tablecloth, adding candles and a scattering of rose petals for a romantic touch.

Fairy lights hung along the walls, casting a cozy glow that made the space feel magical.

On the counter, I carefully placed his gift, a sleek watch he had admired months ago but never bought for himself.

Not forgetting to attach a handwritten note to the box.

With everything ready, I checked the clock.

It was almost evening. So I had to hurry up to get ready.

I slipped into the dress I had chosen weeks ago, a soft, fitted number I knew he loved on me.

My makeup was simple yet elegant, and I added the finishing touch, a spritz of the perfume Lando had gifted me for my last birthday.

I felt beautiful, excited, and nervous all at once as I sat on the couch, watching the clock.

Five minutes passed. Then ten.

By the time twenty minutes had gone by, I grabbed my phone, texting him a quick, “Hey, are you on your way?”

No response.

An hour later, I texted again. Then called. Still nothing.

My excitement turned into a gnawing worry that sat heavy in my chest.

Where was he? Had he forgotten?

Two hours passed.

The candles on the table had burned down halfway, their flickering flames reflecting off the now-cold plates of food.

The fairy lights, once magical, now felt like mockery.

Finally, three hours later, I gave up.

Tears stung my eyes as I blew out the candles, packed away the food, and removed my dress, exchanging it for soft pajamas.

My makeup was smeared with tears by the time I climbed into bed.

I grabbed my phone one last time, and my heart shattered when I saw the Instagram story.

It was one of Lando’s friends, showing a clip of him laughing, drink in hand, surrounded by his friends.

He looked happy. Carefree.

And completely oblivious that tonight was our anniversary.

The tears came faster, hot and uncontrollable. I buried my face in the pillow, the ache in my chest overwhelming.

I had been so sure he’d come back, that he’d remember. But I was wrong.

Later that night,

The apartment was cloaked in silence when Lando opened the front door, the click of the lock echoing faintly in the stillness.

He stumbled inside the weight of exhaustion and faint traces of guilt tugging at his chest.

The soft glow of the streetlights outside illuminated the darkened space just enough for him to make out his surroundings.

Something felt… off.

He reached for the light switch, and as the room was bathed in warm light, his eyes landed on the dining table across from him.

He froze.

The table was beautifully decorated, candles placed strategically, now melted into small stubs, surrounded by rose petals that had been artfully scattered.

Plates of food were neatly covered with lids to keep them from going bad, but even from a distance, Lando could tell they were his favorites.

He took a tentative step forward, his stomach sinking further with each movement.

Resting near the center of the table was a small, wrapped box with a note attached to it.

The sight made his chest tighten, a creeping realization clawing at the edges of his mind.

His fingers trembled as he picked up the note. Unfolding it carefully, he read the words in her familiar handwriting:

"To my Lando, the best thing that ever happened to me. Thank you for being my partner, my love, my everything. Happy anniversary, baby. Love, Y/N."

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. His heart sank as the full weight of the evening’s significance crashed over him.

Anniversary. He’d forgotten their second anniversary.

Lando stood there, the note still clutched in his hand, his throat tightening as shame washed over him.

He thought back to the past few weeks, to the times he’d brushed you off or come home late without so much as an explanation.

He couldn’t even recall the last time you two spent real, quality time together.

You had tried to talk to him about it, about how you felt neglected, and he had dismissed your concerns every single time.

Now, standing there amidst the evidence of your effort and love, he felt like the worst boyfriend in the world.

Lando exhaled shakily, running a hand through his hair as regret threatened to overwhelm him.

He couldn’t blame anyone but himself.

He glanced around the room, noticing how quiet it was. He knew you were asleep.

His eyes landed on his phone, dead from the night’s events.

With a heavy sigh, he plugged it into the charger, pacing nervously as he waited for it to turn back on.

When it finally lit up, the screen was flooded with notifications, missed calls and unread messages from Y/N.

The time stamps told the story of your evening:

“Hey, are you on your way?” - 8 p.m. “I’m waiting for you… everything’s ready.” -8:30 p.m. “Lando, please call me.” -9 p.m. “Are you okay? I’m starting to worry.” -10 p.m.

The last message was hours old, her tone shifting from hopeful to concerned.

Each notification felt like another jab to his heart, the guilt almost unbearable.

He dropped his phone onto the counter and made his way toward their shared bedroom.

Pushing the door open quietly, he stepped into the dimly lit room.

His gaze immediately found her curled up under the covers, her face half-buried in the pillow.

His breath hitched when he noticed the faint streaks on her cheeks, traces of tears she hadn’t been able to hide.

The sight made his heart clench painfully. She’d cried herself to sleep, and it was his fault.

Lando approached the bed slowly, kneeling beside her as he took in her tear-streaked face.

She looked so peaceful yet so vulnerable, her chest rising and falling softly with each breath.

Guilt swirled in his chest as he reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, thick with regret.

Leaning down, he pressed a gentle kiss to her temple, lingering for a moment as if hoping it could somehow convey all the apologies he couldn’t say while she was awake.

His thumb grazed her cheek, and he sighed deeply.

“You didn’t deserve this,” he murmured, his voice breaking.

“I’ve been such an ass… the worst boyfriend. I’ll make it up to you, I promise. I love you so much.”

She stirred slightly at his touch but didn’t wake.

Lando watched her for a moment longer before standing, his mind racing with plans to fix what he’d broken.

Tomorrow, he vowed, would be all about her.

The next morning, I woke up with a dull ache in my chest, my body heavy from the night before.

My eyes were sore and puffy from crying myself to sleep.

I glanced at the empty side of the bed, already prepared for the familiar sting of disappointment.

Figured he’d leave again before I woke up, I thought bitterly.

Dragging myself out of bed, I moved to the bathroom to freshen up.

The cold water on my face didn’t do much to wash away the exhaustion or the emotional weight from the previous night.

With a sigh, I tied my hair back and made my way downstairs, expecting another day of hurt to unfold.

Halfway down the stairs, though, something unusual stopped me in my tracks.

The smell of coffee, rich and inviting, wafted through the air.

There was another scent too, pancakes? My brow furrowed in confusion.

"That can’t be right. Lando doesn’t cook... does he? Who am i kidding he can't even boil eggs."

I cautiously descended the rest of the stairs, each step filling me with equal parts curiosity and hesitation.

As I rounded the corner into the kitchen, I froze at the sight before me.

There he was, standing by the stove, flipping a pancake with a focused but slightly clumsy determination.

Plates of food lined the table, croissants, fresh fruit, juice, and what looked like store-bought pastries.

It didn’t take long to figure out most of the spread wasn’t homemade, but the effort was unmistakably his.

“Morning, love,” Lando greeted me, his tone soft and tentative, his lips curling into a nervous smile.

I raised an eyebrow, my arms crossing instinctively. “What’s all this?”

He put the spatula down and stepped closer, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel.

“It’s breakfast... and an apology,” he said, his voice earnest.

My eyes flickered between him and the spread on the table.

I could see he was trying, but the hurt from last night still lingered like a heavy cloud over my chest.

“Come sit,” he said gently, pulling a chair out for me.

I hesitated for a moment before sitting down, my arms still crossed defensively.

Lando grabbed a plate, placing a pancake in front of me before adding a small pile of fruit and a croissant on the side.

I eyed him suspiciously as he poured me a cup of coffee, then sat across from me.

“What are you doing, Lando?” I asked, my voice tinged with a mix of confusion and frustration.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table as he met my gaze.

“I messed up, Y/N. Big time. And I need you to know how sorry I am.” His voice was steady but filled with regret.

I stayed silent, waiting for him to continue.

“Last night,” he began, his brows furrowing,

“I forgot our anniversary. I forgot the one day I should’ve been making you feel like the most important person in the world. And it’s not just last night, I’ve been neglecting you for weeks. You told me how you felt, and I brushed it off like an idiot.”

His voice cracked slightly as he spoke, and I could see the weight of his guilt etched into every line on his face.

“I’ve been selfish, caught up in my own world, and I didn’t see how much I was hurting you. You deserve so much better than that, Y/N. Better than me.”

I felt my throat tighten as his words sank in. The sincerity in his tone chipped away at the walls I’d put up.

“I was so hurt, Lando,” I said, my voice trembling.

“I waited for you all night. I planned everything because I thought… I thought you’d come home and we’d celebrate together. I stayed up, hoping you’d walk through that door with a smile, ready to tell me how much you love me. But you didn’t.”

Tears pricked my eyes as I continued.

“I saw that video of you and your friends. You were laughing and having fun while I sat here, alone, on what was supposed to be our night.”

Lando’s face fell, his hands gripping the edge of the table as if grounding himself from the weight of my words.

“I know,” he whispered.

“And I hate myself for it. Seeing what you did for me last night, the decorations, the food, the note. I realized just how much I’ve been taking you for granted. I never want you to feel that way again, Y/N. You’re the most important thing in my life. I need you to believe that.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box, sliding it across the table to me.

“What’s this?” I asked, my voice softer now, though my heart still carried the sting of last night.

“Open it,” he urged.

I carefully lifted the lid, revealing a delicate necklace with a sparkling pendant.

The intricate design caught the morning light, making it shimmer.

“Lando…” I trailed off, overwhelmed.

“It’s not enough to make up for what I’ve done,” he said quickly,

“but it’s a start. And today, it’s all about you. Whatever you want to do, wherever you want to go, we’ll do it.”

I stared at the necklace for a moment before meeting his eyes.

“It’s beautiful,” I said, my voice thick with emotion. “Thank you.”

“But,” I added, my tone firm, “this doesn’t mean I’ve fully forgiven you yet.”

“I know,” he said, nodding.

“And I don’t expect you to. But I’ll spend every day proving to you how much I care, how much I love you. I won’t stop until you believe me again.”

The determination in his voice made my chest tighten.

I wanted to hold onto my anger, to make him feel the depth of my hurt, but seeing him now, vulnerable, regretful, and desperate to make things right.

I couldn’t help but feel the smallest crack in my resolve.

As the morning unfolded, Lando’s sincerity shone through.

He insisted on clearing the table and cleaning up, stealing small glances at me as if trying to gauge my mood.

I wasn’t ready to let go of all the hurt just yet, but for the first time in weeks, I felt a glimmer of hope.

Maybe, just maybe, we could find our way back to each other.

The morning's heartfelt apology set the tone for what became one of the most memorable days Lando and I had spent together in weeks.

While I was still guarded, I couldn’t deny that he was trying, really trying, to make things right.

As I got ready to leave the house, he was already by my side, holding my hand, his other arm slung casually around my shoulder.

“I promised today would be all about you,” he said, giving me that signature soft smile.

“So, where to first?”

We started with a trip to the mall. At first, I felt a little awkward, hesitant to fully enjoy the experience.

But Lando was like a lovesick puppy, following me from store to store, holding my bags, and insisting I buy anything that caught my eye.

“Do you like this dress?” I asked, holding up a flowy sundress against myself.

“I love it,” he said without hesitation. “But I’d probably love anything on you.”

I rolled my eyes at his smooth comment but couldn’t help the blush creeping up my cheeks. “You’re just saying that.”

“Nope,” he replied, grabbing the dress and adding it to the pile of things he’d insisted on buying.

From clothes to accessories, he didn’t say no to anything.

When I protested, saying he was spending too much, he brushed it off.

“I’d spend everything on you, Y/N,” he said with such sincerity it made my heart ache.

Afterward, he took me to my favorite café for lunch.

The cozy little place was one we often went to in the early days of our relationship, and the nostalgia hit me hard as we sat down.

“I missed this,” I admitted as I sipped my coffee.

“Me too,” Lando said, reaching across the table to hold my hand.

“And I’m going to make sure we never lose this again.”

Next, he surprised me with a visit to a local pottery studio.

I couldn’t help but laugh when Lando struggled to shape a vase, the clay slipping through his fingers.

“Okay, you’re supposed to keep your hands steady,” I teased, leaning over to guide him.

“Oh, so now you’re an expert?” he joked, though his grin softened as I showed him how to shape the clay.

It was messy, chaotic, and perfect.

By the end, we both had clay smudged on our faces, and we were laughing like we hadn’t in weeks.

From there, we stopped at a flower shop.

Lando picked out the biggest bouquet of my favorite flowers, holding it out to me with a boyish grin.

“For you,” he said, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“You’re really pulling out all the stops today, aren’t you?” I teased, though my heart swelled as I buried my nose in the fragrant blooms.

“Only the best for my girl,” he replied, his tone playful but his eyes serious.

For the rest of the day, he didn’t leave my side.

He held my hand as we walked through the streets, his arm draped protectively around me whenever we stopped to rest.

He peppered me with kisses at every opportunity; on my cheek, my forehead, my temple.

“You’re being extra clingy today,” I said with a small laugh as he pulled me into another hug.

“Making up for lost time,” he murmured, his chin resting on the top of my head.

Bit by bit, the walls I’d built around my heart began to crumble.

His efforts felt genuine, and I found myself smiling more easily, the hurt from the night before slowly fading into the background.

By the time we got home, the sun was setting, painting the sky in soft shades of pink and orange.

We were both tired but happy as we curled up on the couch together.

Lando tucked me under his arm, his fingers gently tracing patterns on my shoulder.

“Y/N,” he said after a long moment of silence.

His tone was serious, and I looked up at him curiously.

“Yeah?”

“I need to say this again because you deserve to hear it,” he began, his voice steady but filled with emotion.

“I’m so sorry for everything, for neglecting you, for forgetting our anniversary, for making you feel like you weren’t my priority. You are my priority, Y/N. You’re the best thing in my life, and I hate that I made you feel otherwise.”

His words hit me straight in the chest, and I felt tears pricking at the corners of my eyes.

“I know I hurt you,” he continued, his hand cupping my cheek as he looked into my eyes.

“But I swear, I’ll spend every day proving how much I love you. I’ll never let you feel like that again.”

My heart felt full as I reached up to hold his hand.

“You’ve done a lot for me today, Lando,” I said softly.

“And it’s helped. I can see how much you mean it.”

“So... does that mean you forgive me?” he asked, his tone hopeful but cautious.

I smiled, leaning up to kiss him. “Yeah, I forgive you.”

The relief on his face was almost comical, and he immediately began peppering my face with kisses, my cheeks, my forehead, my nose, even the corners of my lips.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he murmured between kisses, his joy infectious.

Just when I thought the day was over, Lando suddenly sat up.

“Wait, I have one last thing,” he said, standing and disappearing into the other room.

I frowned, confused, as he returned with a small envelope in hand.

“What is this?” I asked as he handed it to me.

“Open it,” he urged, a playful but nervous glint in his eyes.

I carefully tore open the envelope, and my breath caught as I pulled out two plane tickets.

My eyes widened as I read the destination: Maldives.

“Lando… are you serious?” I asked, my voice trembling with disbelief.

He grinned. “You’ve always said you wanted to go. So, I booked us a two-week stay. Just you and me. No distractions.”

Tears welled in my eyes as I looked at him, overwhelmed.

“You didn’t have to do this…”

“Yes, I did,” he said firmly, pulling me into his arms.

“I’ll do anything to make you happy, Y/N. Anything.”

I hugged him tightly, burying my face in his chest.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“I love you,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

“I love you too,” I replied, my voice muffled but sincere.

We settled back into the couch, cuddled up together, the weight of the past few weeks finally lifting.

After a long silence, I broke it with a playful smile.

“If you ever neglect me like that again, I’m breaking up with your ass,” I teased.

Lando laughed, his arms tightening around me. “Fair enough. But don’t worry, I won’t. Not ever again.”

And for the first time in weeks, I believed him.

The end

[cressidagrey]

Such A Mystery - Part 9

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Colette Leclerc (Original Character)

Summary:

Max Verstappen fell in love at the ripe old age of 12 and never looked back.

Colette Leclerc really regrets posting that particular Taylor Swift Lyric to her private Instagram account, because it made George Russell go insane.  

The rest of the world has absolutely no idea that the Dutch Lion and Charles Leclerc’s twin sister have been a couple for 15 years and are expecting a baby. 

Warnings: 

Pregnancy, Mention of multiple miscarriages, Pregnancy complications, George Russell Bashing (he's probably really nice in real life but in this, he's the bad guy, sorry), Jos Verstappen, We have apparently now reached the time where I also bash Ferrari. I am sure they are super nice in real life too. They are not in this.

Author Notes: Huge thanks to @llirawolf for holding my hand through this. Chapter 8 of...who knows.

It felt like forever. He knew it wasn't. It must have been minutes until the car door was ripped open and Charles slipped in right next to him.

It wasn’t until the doors were slammed shut behind Charles that Max dared to look at the Monégasque.

His heart skipped a beat at the sight. Charles was still in his racing suit just as him, the suit itself streaked with sweat.

The moment the car door closed, the car started riving.

"Merde," Charles cursed. Max could only agree. "I am sorry, that it took this long."

Max gave a sharp, jerky shake of his head. "You don’t have to apologize," he somehow managed to get the words out. "I’m just..." he trailed off, a shaky exhale escaping him. "How could you make it here so fast?" he asked, casting a quick glance in his friend’s direction.

Charles snorted. "Your press officer had a shouting match with Ferrari's,“ he said simply.

If Max wasn’t so focused on not completely losing it, he might’ve been amused with the mental image. But at the moment, he could only shake his head.

Next to him, Charles let out a sigh. "Are you alright?" he asked quietly.

"No. You?" he gave back.

"I don't have a bad feeling," Charles said quietly. “Not worse than it has been for days at least.”

Twin Telepathy was apparently a thing as far as Charles and Colette were concerned. 

Quite frankly, till this day, it still weirded Max out. They just seemed to know when the other one wasn't feeling well. 95% of the time, they got sick at the same time. They communicated more easily with each other than with anyone else, and regardless of what game they played...they needed to be put on opposite teams, because otherwise nobody had a chance against them.

Max was well aware of Colette and Charles' strange connection. Even if he didn’t fully understand it. They both had some sort of sixth sense when it came to the other one, and it sometimes felt like they were talking in secret code.

"What’s it telling you right now?" he asked, his voice barely above a rough whisper.

Charles turned to him fully at that, and Max saw the way his eyes swept over him, taking in every aspect of his appearance.

Max could only imagine what Charles was seeing. He felt like a walking wreck, and there was no doubt his appearance was mirroring that.

"Colette is in pain," Charles finally said, his voice strangely quiet. "She’s scared."

That answer felt like somebody shoved a knife into Max’s stomach. He inhaled sharply, the breath catching in his throat. “Of course, she is,” he hissed through clenched teeth.

Charles seemed to sense what he was thinking, even without being telepathically connected through whatever the hell Colette and him had going on. The Monégasque reached out and took a firmer hold of his hand, the grip almost crushing.

"Don’t," Charles said firmly, his voice leaving no room for arguments. "Don’t go there. We’re gonna get to her as fast as we can."

There was a brief moment of silence, as Max tried to collect himself. He focused all his attention on the pressure of Charles' hand on his, and somehow, it actually helped.

"I feel so goddamn useless," he finally admitted, his voice rough with emotion. "I want to be with her."

"You want to try calling her before we are in the air?" Charles suggested.

That was not a bad idea, not at all. Max let out a low and slightly shaky exhale, swallowing hard. “Yeah,” he nodded. “Yeah, I…” he had to stop and clear his throat. “Yeah, I’ll try to call her.”

His hands were shaking when he pulled out his phone out of the backpack that somebody had handed off to him, already packed. Regardless of all the drama that had gone on in the RedBull garage during the year… if it really mattered, the people in there pulled off minor miracles.

Within minutes, his entire day - hell, his entire week - had been packed for him, with all the essentials of clothes and everything else he would need.

He had almost forgotten about the phone in his shaking hands, but now he just stared at the screen for a moment. His fingers were trembling so badly that just unlocking the phone was a challenge in itself.

Jimmy and Sassy were on his lockscreen...a picture that Colette had once sent him when he had been away for one of his races...the two of them laying on top of her on their couch...

Every other time Max saw the photo, it made his heart do a little funny jump. Now though, it made his chest ache. It felt like a sharp stabbing pain, and for a moment, he just sat there and stared at the picture.

Then he called her.

It rang. And it rang, and it rang again. With each passing second, that horrible knot in his stomach tightened a little more. With every ring of the bell, it got harder to breathe.

Finally, to Max’s immense and enormous relief, the line connected.

"Hey, Maxie. I put you on speaker," Victoria's voice came over the phone, sounding surprisingly calm.

A shiver of something resembling dread ran through Max, at the sound of Victoria’s voice. But he pushed past the feeling.

His thoughts were once again running wild - was it a bad sign that Colette wasn’t the one speaking to him? Or was he just overreacting..?

“Hey,” he forced the word out past the lump in his throat. "How are you feeling?" he asked, pleading for Colette's voice. Was it selfish that he just wanted to hear her tell him that everything was going to be okay?

"Better now," Colette's voice came, sounding slightly hoarse.

The words were like a shot of adrenaline, and for a moment, Max actually felt a little lightheaded. “Liefje.” He closed his eyes, just hearing her voice sending another wave of relief through him. “Are you okay? How is Bébé?”

"Bébé has decided that they would rather be born today, so I would suggest you hurry up," Victoria said drily.

"Seems like the kid already inherited Max's need for speed," Charles quipped. "How are you doing, Coco?"

"I'm good," Colette's voice replied, and Max could only imagine the eye-roll that was currently happening. He knew his girlfriend, and he had no doubt that she had been glaring at Victoria ever since the phone was put on speaker.

"Where are you?" she asked, her voice suddenly turning much softer. "You're coming, right?"

"Coming," he assured her, his heart aching. "We're coming, I promise."

"I know. I’m not worried." She sounded like she meant it, but Max could easily imagine the anxiety in her eyes.

"You'd better not worry," Charles said, and then added, "I’m keeping him from doing anything dumb."

Max shot Charles a dirty look at that, bt he swallowed down the annoyed protest and focused back on Colette instead. “Just…hold on a little longer, okay?”

"It's not like I can go anywhere else," Colette replied, her voice slightly amused. "I’ll keep our little speed demon in there a little lo...." She broke off and let out a quiet hiss of pain, her voice once again cut off by what Max suspected to be a particularly painful contraction.

“Colette,” he said sharply, all kinds of emotions washing over him, one by one. “Liefje, just…just breathe through it, okay?”

There was a second of panting, then, he heard her take a deep breath. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay,” she finally said. “Just…hurts like hell.”

He swallowed and clenched his free hand tightly into a fist, fighting against the urge to just jump out of the car and start running towards the airport.

Colette being in pain was not something he could deal with.

He heard her take a few more deep breaths, and he just sat there, waiting and listening and feeling absolutely useless.

"How long until you get here?" she asked after a moment, her voice breathless. He could see her in his mind, his sweet girl, sitting on the bed and clutching her belly as another contraction hit her.

"We're not even at the airport yet," he told her, and damn it, why were his eyes suddenly burning. "We’ll get there as soon as we can, okay? Just...hold on a little longer."

"What your dad said..." Colette said with a shaky voice.

"I know," he said simply, the grief raw in his voice. Neither of them were ever really going to get over the two babies they had lost. They had learnt to live with the pain, they had dealt with the heartbreak an grief...but it was always going to be scar for them.

"Max, if something…" she began, her voice a little wobbly. He could tell that she was crying, by the way her breathing got a little more hitched and ragged.

But she suddenly cut off and gasped, letting out an even breath. Another contraction..."Hey, nothing is gonna happen," he quickly said, trying to soothe her. "Nothing. I'll be there soon. I'll be there before you know, and our child will meet their parents. We will be fine, we will get through this. You, and me. Together."

"If something happens," Colette continues. "If..."

"No," he cut her off, the word coming out as a growl. "Nothing is gonna happen. You will not talk that way. You’re going to deliver a gorgeous and healthy baby, and I won’t hear anything else."

"Max..." she protested, but Max wasn’t having it.

"You’re not going anywhere," he said firmly, putting as much steel in his voice as he could. "You will be fine. Our baby will be fine, and I will be there soon and I will hold your hand and you can threaten to geld me and all of it will be okay. Just breathe.” 

He could hear the sound of her breathing, deep and even. She was trying to steady it, and Max gripped his phone tighter. He didn’t know if he was trying to hold himself together, or if he was trying to hold on to the sound of her voice.

The seconds ticked by, and then another contraction hit, and he heard her gasp out another ragged breath. Max felt like he was going to crawl out of his own skin. The idea of her in pain was like an invisible knife twisting a little deeper in his gut, each time.

"We need to go," Charles said suddenly. "We need to get into the plane." The car slowed down at that moment. "Coco, listen to me. I am going to be absolutely fucking furious with you if something happens to you," Charles told her fiercely. 

"Trust me," Colette’s voice said, sounding slightly tired. "I am very, very motivated to stay alive."

That was good. That was a good sign. If she was still being sarcastic and even a little bit cheeky…it was good.

"Just hold on," he told her again, the familiar feeling of helplessness seeping into his bones. "Just keep hanging on, for me. I love you."

“I love you too,” the words were as immediate and as fast as the sunrise each morning. "Hurry up, dammit."

"I’m trying," he replied, his voice hoarse. "I’m trying. We’re at the airport now. We’ll get there as fast as we can-" he had to stop, when he heard her let out another pained gasping sound, as another contraction clearly hit her hard.

“Goddamn,” he exclaimed, all of his muscles tense with the urge to do something. He wanted to help her, he wanted to be there to comfort her…but more than anything,  he was terrified of losing her. "Liefje, just keep breathing, okay? Breathe and stay calm."

"I’m trying to," her voice was breathless, and he knew that she was probably trying hard to fight the urge to cry out. Oh God, he hated that. He hated seeing her in pain, he loathed feeling this utterly useless.

"Go. Love you," she told him.

"I love you," he told her emphatically, wanting to say something more, but then Charles impatiently gestured at him to hurry up and get out of the car. "I...I’ll see you soon, okay? Just hang on, okay?"

"Yeah," he could tell that she was trying even harder to control her voice, trying to put on a calm and steady front for his benefit. "Just..." she cut off and let out a gasp, another contraction evidently hitting her hard. "...just hurry up before this baby decides to make their way out before you arrive, okay?"

"I will," he promised through gritted teeth. "I will, goddammit, I will, just…hang on."

He heard Colette’s pained panting, and each of her breaths was like a stab in the gut.He hated having to hang up on her

Everything in him rebelled at that. How could he, how could he possibly abandon her like that, how could he let her take on this pain and fear all by herself, without him there to hold her hand...but goddamnit, he had no choice.

He took a shuddering breath and pushed past the urge to scream, to slam his fist into something, anything. His mind was a whirlwind of emotions, ranging from the desperate need to get to her, to overwhelming panic, to anger at the universe for forcing them apart and for putting her through this pain.

Into the plane they went…it was probably the shortest amount of time between entering a plane and taking off Max had ever experienced. 

Before too long they were up in the air, flying towards Nice.

The minutes ticked by, each one passing by like a century. Max would sit in restless agitation at his seat, his mind racing back and forth. Every thought and memory came back to Colette. He just wanted to be at her side, he just wanted everything to be okay…

And instead he would be stuck on this plane for 6 hours.

He would be stuck on this goddamn plane for six hours. Six hours, each one of them filled with the knowledge that the love of his life was giving birth to their child, and he was not there to support her, to hold her hand and reassure her that everything was okay.

It was driving him absolutely insane. He couldn’t take it, he just wanted to be there, with her. He could vividly picture her, sitting in the hospital bed and gripping the rails, her face screwed up in pain as she fought through another contraction. And he was not there to comfort her.

"Maman is with her. Your sister is with her. Lorenzo and Arthur too." Charles said at that moment. “We aren't there but everybody else is."

"How can you be this calm?" Max asked him, dragging a hand through sweat damp hair.

"Don't mistake calm for not being worried," Charles said evenly, his eyes tracking Max's restless pacing of the plane. "I am worried. For her, for you and for the little one. But freaking out isn't gonna do anyone any favours right now."

"I know,” Max said, his voice still strangled tight with stress. He just couldn't get any of the images out of his mind - her struggling and fighting her way through the pain, looking more vulnerable and pale than he had ever seen her...and he was not there.

“Besides, I shouted at Ferrari’s PR and got it out of my system, so currently, I am feeling quite calm.” Charles said darkly. “I imagine that’s going to change again when I am sure that Colette and the baby are alright.”

Max just stared at him. Charles had done what?

If there was a religion that Charles Leclerc believed in then it was Ferrari.

Charles Leclerc was their golden boy. Their Il Predestinato. There was no good-natured fobbing to be had about Ferrari regardless of what issues there had been had through the years, and there had been a lot.

Charles worshipped Ferrari like a malevolent goddess. He didn’t want to hear any criticism of his team and Max had given up on that a very long time ago. 

Charles and Colette both could be the most stubborn people Max had ever match. The only one who could match their stubbornness were each other. 

"You did what?" Max stared at him, utterly flabbergasted. Charles was an absolute Ferrari fan and loyal to the very core…why the hell would he yell at the PR people?

"Why...? What did they do?"

"They weren't even going to tell me that something was wrong with Colette," Charles said darkly. "I knew it. I knew that something was off. But they didn't say anything. It was one of Red Bull's PR Staff that got me out of the cooldown room. Ferrari wouldn't have said anything to me. Ferrari didn't want me to leave either. They wanted to debrief, they wanted me to give interviews,"

Max had to resist the urge to swear. He had been so focused on the fact that he was not with Colette that he hadn't even processed the fact that Ferrari had actually kept her labour a secret from Charles, simply to make him stay and do his goddamn job for them.

"You know that that is not normal, right?" he asked him drily. "I am not telling you that everything is perfect at Red Bull but Christian would never fucking stand for that."

"You know I never expected it," Charles told him, his mouth a thin hard line. "We are the drivers. We are the stars. But we come second. First and foremost, we are assets to the team. What Ferrari wants, Ferrari gets. We drive, we get podiums, we hold the trophies, and we smile for the cameras. Everything else comes second. It doesn’t matter to them. To them, only the trophies matter. "

"That's what they want," Max told him, anger seeping into his voice. "But that's not how it should be. Ferrari is wrong. If something is wrong with your loved ones, they have no right to keep it from you like that. Especially not for the sake of a goddamn interview."

"I know," Charles said, his lips thin with bitterness. "But there's not much I can do about it, is there? We may be the top drivers on the grid, but we drive the car that the teams give us. There's only so much that we can do when the team has power over pretty much every aspect of our career. And believe me, I am going to pay a fucking price for doing what I did. I just don't care at all. It's Colette," he said sharply. "I love all my siblings. I do. I love Lorenzo and Arthur. I would do everything for them. But they aren't my twin. They aren't the second half of me," Charles said simply. "Ferrari be damned."

Max hadn't thought that he was ever going to hear these words out of Charles' mouth but here they were.

"What the fuck did Jos say by the way? What did Coco mean?" Charles demanded.

"He gave an interview to Sky Sports," Max said, fury still embering deep in his gut.

"Of course he did." Charles said, not sounding surprised at all. "What did he say?"

"Confirmed the relationship...and the pregnancy," Max said clenching his teeth. "And if that wasn't enough...he made a...comment about how it had taken us long enough to have a baby."

There was a sharp indrawn breath as Charles absorbed that. "...What?" Charles said after a moment, his voice strangled. "...he made that comment in public? Are - are you serious?"

"I never told him about the two...miscarriages," Max said quietly. "I couldn't deal with whatever well meant advice he was going to have...but I...We lost two babies," Max said weakly. "My father went out there and confirmed our relationship and the pregnancy without talking to either of us. He just made that decision because it's "ridiculous" that we kept it a secret for so long. An it’s making me furious. This wasn't his decision to make. This was ours."

"Yes," Charles said, his jaw clenching. "It was. Your decision. Nobody else’s. He had absolutely no right to do that. Goddamn it, I have never liked that man, but I've never had the urge to punch him as much as I do this very moment."

"You and me both," Max said. The anger he was feeling would have been burning through him like a damn inferno if he hadn't been so worried about Colette.

"This should have come from us," Max repeated quietly. "Not from anybody else."

"It still can come from you," Charles said.

Max paused, looking up at him. "Are you saying we should..." he began uncertainly.

"You want to tell the entire world that you love my sister and that she is having your baby? You have an Instagram account and a phone with an internet connection," Charles said drily. "Tell them the truth. Your truth."

Max opened his mouth and then closed it again. Charles had a point. It was obvious what the news was going to be now if people had seen Jos's interview.

But he wanted to be the one to tell the world. He wanted it to be on his terms. He wanted it to be public but on his public terms. Not his father's.

"Are you ever going to ask my sister to marry you?" Charles asked him suddenly.

The question caught him completely off guard. "...What?" He said blankly, stunned by the change of the conversation.

"You gave her a ring when you were both 18 that you both insisted was only a promise ring," Charles said drily. "Are you ever going to replace it with the real thing?"

He thought back to that ring that still sat on Colette's finger to this day. A simply gold band with a tiny heart-shaped diamond.

He had given it to her in 2016, after his very first Grand Prix win in Spain. He had gone out and bought it that very same day to be exact.

He had bought Victoira a handbag the first time he had scored his championship points...but the first time he had won...he had bought Colette that ring.

"Apparently the baby is only going to have your surname too, because you have an agreement," Charles continued. "Do I actually want to know what that agreement was?"

"We were 18. Both our father's would have probably killed us, if we came to them and told them that we were engaged," Max said with a sigh. The Leclerc's had always been supportive of their relationship but Hervè Leclerc had very much thought that both Colette and him were far too young to get married. 

Jos on the other hand...Max didn't even want to imagine that screaming fit.  "So I gave her that ring and we agreed that..."

"You agreed that..." Charles repeated slowly, silently urging him to continue.

Max let out a deep sigh and dragged a hand through his already messy hair, mussing it up even more. "We agreed that we didn't really need a piece of paper to tell us what we already knew," he said simply. "Colette and I had been together for 6 years at that point, we already knew and accepted that we were going to be together for the rest of our lives. It was just a matter of when. So we decided that we didn't need a damn piece of paper to know that we were committed to each other. We already knew that, without a doubt," Max said simply. "It was a promise ring. To love and to cherish, till death us do part. One day we would do it properly, but till then...that ring was a promise."

Charles stared at him. "Let me get this straight. You have been married to my sister for 10 years?" he asked him sharply.

Max winced. Okay. Put like that, it sounded kinda bad. "We never had the actual wedding," he said sheepishly. "We both know it wasn't necessary for us, so...we kinda just...never got around to it."

"I mean, I did ask your father for her hand in marriage when it was clear that he wasn't going to be there...when we eventually did it properly...but...for us that ring was… It was more than enough," Max said quietly. "I knew damn well that I would be with her for the rest of my life. She knew it. We both knew it. And that ring was a symbol between us that sealed the deal. We both knew that it was going to be for forever and always. It was a promise. A promise to always stay by each other’s side. No matter how badly things fell apart around us. No matter how much the world wanted to tear us to apart. We were going to stay together, come hell or high water. We didn't need a paper to prove that to us or the rest of the world," Max said firmly.

Charles stared at him for a couple of long moments, processing this. Max was well aware that, from an outside perspective, it might sound weird. That they had been so young, but so utterly certain that they were going to spend their lives together.

But he and Colette had been together for years. And he had seen how strongly they had bonded over the years, seen what they had been able to deal with as a team, as one, and how they had come through every single thing that the life had thrown at them together.

"You two are utterly ridiculous," Charles finally said drily. "You didn't get engaged because as far as you two were concerned you already got married years ago."

Max winced a little bit and couldn't really refute it. If he were to be honest, he'd have admit it did sound utterly ridiculous, when Charles spelled it out like that.

But that just...that was how badly they had known right from the very beginning that this was it for them. They didn't need a piece of paper to tell them what they already knew.

"I'll ask her properly," he promised Charles. "I already got the ring. But Colette doesn't want to overshadow Lorenzo and Charlotte and I knew that she wasn't going to want to have a big party while pregnant so I figured I would just wait."

Charles was slightly taken aback by his words, before he gave a small smile. "She'll definitely say yes, you know," he said, the corner of his eyes crinkling with affection.

Max smiled in return. His heart ached with the thought of her. "I hope so," he said quietly, feeling like there was a hole in his chest where his heart was supposed to be. "I really, really hope so."

[solarhysm]

"what’s your name again?" | JEON JUNGKOOK [FOLLOWERS POLL’s CHOICE]

one shot

> summary: jungkook met you at a costume party for the new year eve. you're bold, drunk and horny.

> pairing: jungkook x reader

> genre: small smut, one shot (shorter than i thought tho)

> warnings: smut, protected sex!!, public quickie in the female restroom (i'm not good with warning)

> word count: 2.8k

*french writer, i apologize in advance for my awful english!

Jungkook never likes masked parties. But when Hoseok suggests going to one where everyone is in costumes, he reluctantly agrees. He has nothing better to do for New Year’s Eve anyway, and it seems better than drinking alone in his apartment. He sighs as someone bumps into him—that’s why he avoids crowded places.

Everyone wears costumes as if it’s Halloween. He’s not surprised to see most of the women in tight, short dresses. Jungkook considered dressing as a character from Squid Game but decided against it—there are already too many of them here.

Instead, he throws on his old Spider-Man costume from Halloween three years ago. It’s been gathering dust in his closet, but it saves him time and money. To account for the cold, he adds gray joggers and an old black sweatshirt. Tonight, he’s not Peter Parker but Miles Morales. He doubts anyone will notice the reference, though.

“Damn, I didn’t expect it to be this crowded,” Jimin says, handing beers to his friends.

Jungkook glances around and nods. It’s New Year’s Eve, so of course, people their age are out celebrating.

“It’s been a shitty year,” Taehyung groans, downing his beer in one gulp before heading to the bar for something stronger. His girlfriend dumped him last month, and he’s still obsessively checking her Instagram, where she flaunts her new boyfriend.

Jungkook shakes his head, amused. It was a rough year. His grandfather was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, none of his romantic flings went anywhere, and the company he worked for went bankrupt. Now, he’s living with his parents –again- and working a terrible job under an abusive boss. He sighs and takes a sip of his beer.

“At least we’re still standing,” Hoseok says, ever the optimist.

As the night goes on, the four friends drink steadily in their corner of the nightclub. Taehyung ends up crying on Hoseok’s shoulder, while Jungkook rolls his eyes.

“I don’t understand,” Taehyung whines. “I’m a good boyfriend! I used to bring her flowers all the time and give her all the attention she wants.”

“She’s a bitch. You’re a good guy,” Jungkook says, leaning closer so Taehyung can hear him over the music. “Stop wasting your tears on someone like her.”

“Maybe I’m bad in bed?”

“Stop it,” Jimin groans, grabbing Taehyung’s shoulder. “With your third leg, it’s definitely not about sex. Some women are just terrible people. Go find someone new tonight.”

“What?” Taehyung sniffles, while Jungkook silently gestures for Jimin to stop talking.

“Yeah, Tae,” Hoseok chimes in. “Find a girl, have some fun, and forget about her.”

Jungkook buries his face in his hands. Taehyung is too drunk for this advice. He’s not a one-night-stand type of guy and will probably end up vomiting on whoever he approaches.

“I need a smoke,” Jungkook mutters, getting up and wiping his hands on his joggers. He weaves through the crowd toward the exit, hating how packed the nightclub is.

“I’m sorry!” a voice gasps as their bodies collide. Jungkook instinctively grabs the stranger’s arm to steady them. Both of them are clearly tipsy, but they look more unsteady than he does.

His gaze falls on the person in front of him—his very own Gwen Stacy. The mask hides all of their face, but the costume piques his interest immediately.

“It’s my fault,” You begin. “I didn’t—” You stop mid-sentence when you look up at him. “Oh, Miles Morales!” You giggle, recognizing his costume. And your laugh makes him smile.

“Hi, Gwen,” Jungkook smirks, the alcohol making him bolder.

“Hi,” you reply as you both step outside into the chilly air. It’s a welcome relief from the stifling crowd inside. Jungkook pulls out a cigarette and lighter.

“I like your costume,” he says, noticing you scanning the crowd inside, probably looking for your friends.

You remove your mask and smile. Jungkook doesn’t expect you to be this attractive—especially the kind of attractive he’s drawn to.

“Thanks. I like yours, even if it’s a little inaccurate,” you tease, making him chuckle.

You pull out your own cigarette, accepting his lighter with a nod of thanks.

“It’s too cold to be Spider-Man.”

“Well, not Tom Holland’s Spider-Man,” you quip, freeing your hair from the costume.

Jungkook’s eyes linger on you briefly before smirking. “Marvel fan?” he asks.

“Hm, you?”

“Hm.”

You’re pretty and a Marvel fan? Jungkook looks up at the dark sky, silently thanking the universe for this coincidence. Before he can come up with something to say, you speak again.

“I almost dressed as Wednesday Addams, but it’s way too cold for that,” you explain, and he nods.

“Wednesday was my first choice, too,” Jungkook jokes, making you laugh.

“I’m Y/N,” you say.

“Jungkook,” he replies.

“Did you come alone, Spiderman?” you ask, and Jungkook shakes his head.

“I came with some friends.”

“Yeah, me too. It was either this or sleeping early. I figured it’d be more fun to get drunk,” you say, tossing the bud of your cigarette. Jungkook licks his lips with a smile. He guesses you’re a yapper, which is a good thing because he’s not drunk enough to talk freely without embarrassment. “Do you drink tequila shots, Spiderman?”

“Are you offering?” he teases, and you nod. “Alright.”

Even though he asks, once you’re at the bar ordering a round of six tequila shots, Jungkook is the one handing over his credit card to the bartender. You scold him, insisting you’ll pay for the next round. He’s just happy that you’re thinking about continuing the night with him, though he’s a little apprehensive about drinking more.

“Alright, on three,” you say with a smile, counting down before you both toss back the first shot and bite into a lemon. “Where are your friends?”

“Somewhere in the club,” Jungkook replies, his head nodding to the rhythm of the music.

You grab his hand and guide him to the dancefloor. Jungkook marvels at how easygoing you are. Most girls he meets play hard to get, but you’re different—just here, vibing with everyone around you. His smile widens as he watches you mimicking the dance steps of a guy dressed as a banana.

You burst into laughter when you mess up the choreography, and the banana-guy spins you back toward Jungkook, probably assuming the two of you came together. You stumble into his arms, your rosy cheeks and bright giggles captivating him even though he can barely hear it over the music.

After the fourth shot, Jungkook has to stop, reaching his limit. He isn’t used to drinking this much, especially tequila. But he chuckles, watching as you confidently take down two more. When you turn to him, he shakes his head in disbelief.

“Already?” you tease, giggling, and he rolls his eyes, amused. You finish the remaining shots by yourself, and he’s genuinely impressed. How can someone as small as you handle so much alcohol?

Jungkook blinks a few times, shaking his head. He’s almost certain you’re going to regret this if you keep bouncing around to the music like that.

“Are you drunk?” you ask, leaning closer, and he nods, patting his chest to settle the burn in his throat.

He grabs a bottle of water he ordered, takes a sip, and offers it to you. But you shake your head, and Jungkook can’t help but feel a strange responsibility to make sure you’re okay. You’ve only just met, but he’s already trying to sober you up a bit—anything to avoid you ending the night sick.

“Do you drink often?” Jungkook asks, grimacing as he takes another sip of water. He’s already done with tequila—probably for life.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you chuckle, your tone playful as you make him smile and shrug.

“Just that you definitely know how to hold your liquor.”

“I just needed to get drunk and forget this year,” you admit, tossing your hair over your shoulder.

“Do you want me to walk you to your friends?” Jungkook offers, his voice laced with concern.

“Are you tired of me, Spider-Man?” you joke, swaying slightly as you both half-dance to the pulsing music.

“W-What? No!” Jungkook stammers, looking adorably flustered, and you laugh at his reaction.

“I’m kidding,” you say, nudging his shoulder with a grin.

“Can… I have your number? Or maybe your social media?” he asks, leaning closer to your ear to make himself heard over the music. You pull back to meet his gaze, your hands resting lightly on his shoulders for balance. Both of you have hooded eyes, softened by the alcohol and dim lights.

Jungkook feels a rush of admiration for your boldness. You don’t care about the people around you or their opinions. His hand hesitates before resting on the small of your back. You tilt your head, your nose brushing his as your lips hover dangerously close.

“Do you want to have fun?” you murmur, your mouth brushing his ear, the music muffling everything else.

“What kind of fun?” he asks, his breath caressing your cheek. He feels himself leaning into the moment, emboldened by your energy. Why not? There’s nothing wrong with a little flirting with a stranger on New Year’s Eve.

You smirk slowly, your hand slipping into his to guide him off the dancefloor. Jungkook frowns slightly in confusion when you lead him into the women’s restroom. Before he can ask why, you cup his face, pulling him into a kiss that sends his heart racing.

He finds it thrilling—kissing someone he just met, in a place he’d never expect. It’s not the kind of fun he was imagining, but he’s definitely not complaining. You guide him blindly into one of the stalls, closing the door behind you as he presses you against it.

“What if someone catches us?” he whispers, his lips trailing along your jaw.

“We can stop if you want,” you reply, threading your fingers into his hair before pulling him into another heated kiss.

“No,” he says honestly, making you smile. “But we’re drunk.”

“Can’t get hard when you’re drunk?” you tease, your lips brushing the column of his neck. Jungkook chuckles darkly, grabbing your hand and guiding it to his joggers. Your eyes light up as you feel his growing arousal beneath the fabric.

Jungkook’s breath hitches as your hand starts to stroke him above his jogger. His mind races—this is new for him. He’s had his share of casual flings, but never with a stranger and never in public. Surprisingly, the thrill of possibly being caught makes the moment even more exhilarating.

He wonders if you’ve done this before—you seem so at ease. But before he can ask, your hand slides under the waistband of his joggers, palming his growing bulge. His eyes close almost instantly, a soft groan escaping him as your touch sends heat coursing through his body. His own hands find your backside, squeezing gently, grounding himself in the moment.

“Do you want to fuck me?” you whisper, nipping lightly at the sensitive skin of his neck.

“What—I—right now?” he stammers, wide-eyed, and you nod. Pressing your back against the door, you reach behind to unzip the bottom of your costume, your movements deliberate and teasing. Jungkook’s gaze remains locked on you, his mind racing.

His eyes widen further as he begins patting the pockets of his joggers in a frantic search for his wallet. He knows there’s a condom in there—he’s certain he hasn’t used it. A chance like this? No way he’s letting it slip by. He’s just a guy, after all, and if a beautiful woman wants him, Jungkook isn’t about to say no.

“What are you doing?” you ask, laughing as his wallet slips from his fumbling hands. He scrambles to catch it, earning another amused giggle from you.

When he finally retrieves the little plastic wrapper, he holds it up proudly. You smirk, pulling him into a heated kiss while he helps you peel off the bottom half of your costume. The black panties underneath match the dark tights perfectly, a sight that makes Jungkook’s breath hitch. His hands twitch at his sides, trying to maintain control.

“I’ve never done this before,” he admits softly, hiking your leg up to wrap around his waist, pressing you against him.

“Yeah, me neither,” you reply with a playful giggle, one hand gripping his shoulder for balance while the other threads through his messy hair. “New year, new experiences, right?”

“You’re really something else,” he chuckles, his tone equal parts admiration and disbelief. His eyes meet yours, silently asking for permission. You nod, and his hand slides between your thighs, fingertips brushing against you through the thin fabric of your panties.

“Fuck,” you whisper, your head falling back against the door as your hips instinctively press into his touch. Your reaction sends a shiver down his spine; he swears he’s never heard anyone curse so beautifully.

Jungkook frees himself from his boxers, giving his cock a few slow strokes while watching your every reaction. His gaze flickers between your face and the way your body trembles under his hand. When he pushes your panties aside, he hesitates momentarily to open the condom.

“Tell me to stop,” he says suddenly, his voice wavering as he tries to cling to the last shred of his rationality.

“Don’t you dare,” you reply with a grin, tugging at his boxers to free him completely. He groans, any semblance of self-control slipping away as he feels your hand stroke him again, this time skin-on-skin.

The muffled music from the club outside only adds to the surrealness of the moment. Every so often, someone walks into the restroom, and Jungkook tenses, half-expecting a knock on the door. But the thrill of being caught only seems to heighten his excitement. When you grab his face to focus him on you, your lips brushing against his, he realizes he’s long past the point of no return.

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath as he rolls the condom over his length. His other hand pushes his joggers just low enough to give him room to move. “Are you sure?” he asks one last time, his voice trembling with need.

“Yes,” you answer without hesitation, guiding him to your entrance. His fingers dig into your hips as he presses forward slowly, the stretch eliciting soft gasps from both of you. He stills for a moment, his forehead resting against yours as he adjusts to the overwhelming sensation.

“God, you’re so tight,” he whispers, his voice rough with desire.

“Please, move,” you urge him in a whine, your nails digging into his shoulders. He doesn’t need to be told twice. His hips pull back before snapping forward, setting a steady rhythm that has you biting your lip to keep from moaning too loudly.

Jungkook’s movements grow more erratic as he loses himself in the sensation of you. The cramped space of the stall, the muffled music, and the ever-present risk of being caught only add to the intensity. His hands roam your body, gripping your thighs and waist as he thrusts into you with increasing urgency.

“You feel so good,” he groans, his voice a low rumble in your ear.

“Faster,” you gasp, your hands sliding down to grab his ass and urge him deeper. He obliges, his pace quickening until the sound of your bodies colliding fills the small space. “Fuck –“

You bite down on his shoulder to muffle your moans, and he curses under his breath, the combination of your teeth and the tight grip of your walls pushing him closer to the edge.

“I’m close,” he whispers, his breath hot against your neck. His thrusts grow rougher, the door rattling slightly with each movement.

“Me too,” you manage to reply, your voice shaky as the tension in your body builds. His thumb finds your clit, circling it with just enough pressure to send you spiraling over the edge. Your walls tighten around him as you climax, your muffled cries vibrating against his skin.

“Fuck,” Jungkook groans, his hips stuttering as he follows you, spilling into the condom with a final deep thrust. He collapses against you, his chest heaving as he struggles to catch his breath. The countdown outside ends in cheers and shouts of celebration, but neither of you notices, still lost in the aftershocks of your high.

For a moment, the two of you stay like that, tangled together in the aftermath. Then Jungkook pulls back slightly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. The sounds of celebration seep back in as you both begin to steady your breathing.

“That was…” he trails off, unable to find the right words. “Hot.”

You smirk, cupping his face to leave a lingering kiss on his swollen lips.

“Happy New Year,” you whisper, your voice soft but playful.

“Happy New Year,” he replies, his hand snaking behind your neck to pull you into another kiss, this one just as passionate as the last. Jungkook knows he has to go back to his friends soon.

“What’s your name again?” you laugh, your breath mingling with his as he chuckles.

“Jungkook. Yours?”

“Y/N.”

hiiii!! first of all, happy new year to you all. may 2025 be a better year for you. secondly, i know, I KNOW, i'm a little late with the one shot i promised, i'm sorry! i was too busy those last few days. to be honest, the one shot didn't result as i was hoping for. I had a few ideas about it and it doesn't look like... what i expected. but i promise you a jk one shot for the new year so here it is. i'll do better next time, i swear!! but i do hope that you enjoyed reading it <3 I'll see you around, and on that, i'm going back to write the DOU chapter 6 now that i have free time!! luv y’all — Riza

[wonderjanga]

Ms. Kent and Billy

it’s 1959 and it’s been a year ever since Billy got his powers. Life is good and he found out about a pie eating contest happening in some little town in Kansas called Smallville. If you were to win, you’d get a whole $100.

Billy: “A hundred whole dollars… I could get food for weeks- no, months with that!”

Martha(Ma Kent): *appeared behind him* “Are you gonna participate in the contest?”

Billy: *startles* “Uh… Yes?”

Martha: “Aren’t you a little skinny for that?”

Billy: “Wha- I’m not skinny! I don’t think I’m too skinny at least.”

Martha: *looks him up and down wondering if he’d let her cook a bunch of food for him* “Sure. Hey, I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before. Are you new to Smallville?”

Billy: “Yes. This is my first time here actually.”

Martha: “Oh? So you’re just here for the pie contest?”

Billy: “Yup. I’m gonna eat as much pie as I can, and then I’m gonna get the money.”

Martha: “Will you tell me if they’re good?”

Billy: “Sure? Why?”

Martha: “Cause me and my mom made all the pies for the competition!”

Billy: “Oh, that’s amazing!” *looks starstruck*

Martha: *sounds proud* “I know.”

Billy didn’t end up winning the competition. He actually ended up vomiting after his first pie because his little malnourished self couldn’t handle all of that. Martha was there though to clean him up with a rag. They got to know each other better after that and soon enough, Billy would transform into Marvel, fly over to Smallville, and hang out with her. Martha even got to know Freddy because he would sometimes fly over with Billy too. Then the time bubble happened and fast forward 50 years. Billy, after panicking about his entire life and everything he knows it being over, went to go see Martha, who was conveniently still near Smallville.

Billy: *knocks on the door*

Martha: “Coming!” *opens the door and looks around seeing no one*

Billy: “Down here.”

Martha: *looks down to Billy and pauses to stare*

Billy: “Heeeeeeeey Martha.” *awkward wave*

Martha continued to stare at him for a solid minute before she rubbed her eyes, and then rubbed them again for good measure.

Martha: “Billy…?”

Billy: “Martha…?”

Martha: “Oh- my… Oh my Gosh!” *kneels down so she can look him over even going as far as to pinch his little cheeks to make sure he’s real*

Billy: “Ow! Martha, stop!” *bats away her hands*

Martha: *keeps trying to pinch him aways* “Are you real?”

Billy: “Yes?”

Martha: *has seen too much nonsense due to Clark* “Well, if you’re the real Billy uhm… Where did we first meet?”

Billy: “A pie eating contest here?”

Martha: “Hmm… That might be too easy… What pies did I make for the contest?”

Billy: “Wha- I don’t know!? How am I supposed to remember that??”

Martha: “Okay… Too hard. How about you tell me something only you would’ve known about a fourteen year old me.”

Billy: “Like what?”

Martha: “Like something secret I told you.”

Billy: “Uhm… You had a crush on Elvis and said you wanted your future husband to be just like him?”

Martha: *stares before feeling herself cringe at her teenage self* “Okay, I’ll assume you’re the real Billy. Come in, bud.”

They caught up after that. They even decided to make pies together again. It was fun. You would just see them in the kitchen together talking about whatever, normally old lady stuff, and baking. Then, when Grandpa Kent came home…

Jonathan(Pa Kent): “Martha, I’m home!” *walks to the kitchen and pauses when he sees Billy and Martha*

Martha and Billy: *stare back at him*

Jonathan: “Martha is that an another grandbaby, clone, or cousin of Clark’s?”

Martha: “None of those. This is Billy. He’s a friend of mine.”

Jonathan: “Martha, you’re just befriending eight-year-olds now? Where are his parents?”

Billy: “They’re dead, mister! But don’t worry, me and Martha met back in ‘59. We go way back.”

Jonathan: *stares for a solid minute* “Wait a darn moment… were you caught up in all that Fawcett business?” *heard about it on the news*

Billy: “Yup!”

Martha: “What Fawcett business?”

That’s how Billy was led to explain the entirety of the time bubble and suspendium and all that. The Kents thankfully welcomed him with open arms. After this entire incident, Billy showing up to the farm was a regular occurrence. He could bake with Martha and help Mr. Jonathan out as much as he could on the farm. Then, one of the Kents other grandchildren showed up. (Billy was basically their grandbaby too, not that the Batson knew)

Jonathan: *trying to fix their tractor because it broke down for whatever reason*

Billy: *standing to the side, holding a toolbox and giving him tools whenever he asks*

Jon: *flies over from Metropolis* “Grandpa! Grandpa-” *does a double take when he sees Billy* “Wait, who’re you?”

Billy: “I’m Billy!”

Jonathan: “You heard him Jon. He’s Billy.”

Jon: *suddenly self-conscious of the fact that he’s flying in front of this kid and kinda just revealed his identity* “I’m uh… Jon.” *slowly floats down to land on the ground*

Billy and Jon: *stare at each other*

Jonathan: “Billy, can you pass me the diamond tip screwdriver?”

Billy: “Sure!” *passes it to him*

Yeah… Jon was a little confused as to who this random kid was. He was also a little confused as to why he refers to Jon’s grandpa has Mr. Jonathan but refers to Jon’s grandma as Martha. Did he live with grandma and grandpa? Is he another one of his dad’s cousins? Jon doesn’t think the boy’s a kryptonian but he might be wrong. Anyways, he’s making everything weird! Though it’s a sort of good kind of weird? His grandma is acting… younger? They also keep referencing things Jon has no idea about. (Late 50s pop culture) The kid- Billy, seems nice enough though. He has no problems playing with Jon so that’s awesome! Jon is so happy to have a friend away from home, but he’s still confused as to why Billy is at the farm.

Jon: “Dad, why do some people live on farms?”

Supes: “Because they’re farmers…?”

Jon: “No, but like what if they aren’t farmers, and they just help the farmers that are already there? Like one day they just showed up and decided to help around.”

Supes: “Well, I guess the closest thing you’re looking for would be a farmhand. Why are you asking?”

Jon: “Well, there’s this kid that lives with grandma and grandpa now-”

Supes: “WHAT?!”

Yeah, neither Ma Kent or Pa Kent have told Clark about this. It kind of slipped their minds.

Bonus interactions:

Before Pa Kent Came Home…

Billy: “Who’s that?” *looking at a photo of Pa and Ma Kent together*

Martha: “My husband.”

Billy: “Husband…?” *suddenly sad he missed a bunch of stuff from Martha’s life* “Oh…”

Martha: You sound upset. What’s wrong?

Billy: “Nothing.”

Twenty Years Ago When Clark Was Still a Kid…

Supes: Ma, who’s that? *looking at a photo of a nine year old Billy and a fourteen year old Martha*

Martha: “Oh, that’s Billy and I.”

Supes: “Who’s Billy?”

Martha: “An old friend of mine. He uhm… disappeared one day. I don’t know what happened to him.”

[wosoloml]

— second chance || emily fox x reader

[ “I messed up by breaking up with you, because ever since then, I’ve been missing you everyday.” ]

summary: After having her heart broken by Emily, the reader decided to seize the opportunity for a fresh start in her career by moving to London. Little did she know, her worst nightmare wasi about to come true. But sometimes, nightmares have a way of transforming into the sweetest of dreams.

from this request

wc: 1,744 words. | masterlist

warnings: fluff, mention of heartbreak, angst, secret flirtings, jealousy, happy end

——-

"There is no future for us. I need to leave," were the last words Emily said to me as she walked out of our apartment. Well, not our apartment anymore.

This was the last thing I expected when I came home after interviewing the local handball team, excited to share some amazing news I had received at work.

I walked in with the biggest smile on my face, and we both said at the same time, "I want to talk to you about something." Little did I know that by the end of the conversation, I’d be alone in what used to be our home.

Usually, I’m the one who shares big news first, but this time, I decided to let Emily go ahead. I thought she’d need time to process the fact that the Arsenal Football Club had offered me a position on their media team. Letting her start felt like the considerate thing to do.

What a mistake that turned out to be.

If I’m honest, I don’t even remember how I survived the first night. Curled up in my bed, crying my eyes out, and consumed by the question, "Why?"

Everything began a few years ago when we met at UNC. It started with a little crush on the athletic girl, stealing glances every time we passed each other in the hallway.

After months of back-and-forth and a lot of help from our friends Alessia and Lotte, we finally started dating. It was never easy, especially with football becoming such a big part of Emily’s life, but she always treated me like I was the girl of her dreams. I couldn’t have been happier.

Doing long-distance was a significant challenge for us. She signed her first professional contract with Racing Louisville FC, while I was just starting my first year at the sports journalism academy. But our love was always stronger—stronger than any distance or circumstances. We were supposed to be a team.

Everything became so much easier and better when she finally moved back after joining North Carolina Courage. It felt like the greatest relief.

For days after she told me she was coming back, I fell asleep and woke up with the biggest smile on my face.

Eleven months, two cats, and one apartment later, here I am—without anything. I lost the love of my life simply because she "needed to focus on her career."

We were a team, but now she preferred a solo performance.

She was even too cowardly to come here and pick up her things when I was home. The only message I got from her was:

"When does your shift start, so I know when to get my stuff?"

- EF

EF? Is she serious? We spent the last six years together, went through everything, and shared so many firsts. And the only thing she adds to her message are her initials?

It's pathetic.

---

At 9:00, I arrived at the base camp of THE Arsenal Women's Football Club for this year's training camp in Spain.

It’s been a year and a half since I made the decision to start fresh and begin a new life. A year and a half since a certain American girl broke my heart. Coming to London was the best decision I ever made.

One of my closest friends from college is here with me. Without Lessi and Lotte’s support in those early months, I don't know where I'd be. I came to London with nothing but two cats and a suitcase. Now, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.

"Y/N!!" I heard a familiar voice shout my name. As I turned around, I saw my favorite defender.

"Lottee, my girl!" I grinned, my smile growing wider as I pulled her into a tight hug.

"How’s my favorite girl? Ready for today’s media day? The first one during training camp in Spain?"

She chuckled. "I can’t wait to get sunburned. You know my British skin isn’t used to that much sun."

As I followed Lotte to her first media date of the day, we passed the changing room, and I suddenly heard a familiar voice. My heart stopped. This can't be real. No, it's not real—maybe I just overheard something.

"What's up, Y/N?" Lotte immediately noticed the shift in my behavior, but I tried to play it cool.

"Nothing. I just thought I heard someone's voice, but that can't be real," I replied.

She nodded, but I could sense a slight change in her mood.

I’m just paranoid. That’s it, for sure.

"Y/N? Could you possibly anchor the 'First Day at Arsenal' segment with our new signing today? It's not public yet that she transferred to London, but we wanted to take advantage of our training camp in Spain to shoot some nice scenes," the media team leader said.

I looked at him, confused. "I didn't know we got a new signing."

"Really? Everyone knows that. Especially Alessia and Lotte Wubben-Moy—they already know her from previous teams. Funny, huh?"

No. I’m just paranoid again. I know it. This cant be happening.

---

"Hey y/n".

That's it. That's the moment I’ve been scared of the whole day. No, scratch that—I've been scared of it for the last 18 months.

I haven’t heard her voice since that specific day she left me in our old apartment. I thought I’d be okay hearing my name from her lips again. God, was I wrong.

"Since when are you here?" I had to hold myself back from laughing at my own question. The first thing I asked her after she cut me out of her life was when she came to Arsenal. If someone had told me this morning that I’d say that, I would’ve laughed in their face.

"My plane from North Carolina landed this morning. It’s not official that I’ve transferred, but they decided spontaneously that I could join the girls here at camp already. I didn’t know you were working here, I promise. I would’ve told you about the transfer."

It’s over for me now. A small chuckle escaped my lips. "You would’ve told me? What would you have said to me? 'Hey, Y/N, by the way, I’m moving to the club where you work, after destroying your life a year and a half ago. Ready to ruin your new life too?' Because that’s what you’re doing right now. You’re destroying my new life. I came to London with nothing. But not with me, Emily. This time, you won’t take everything from me. This is my home."

I slightly shouted at her. She just stared at me. I’m done with her now. Turning around, I left.

---

As the days pass, I have to admit that maybe I’m not completely over her.

It all began when we both became nervous around each other during the "First Day at Arsenal" segment, and it continued with secret touches on the beach and our eyes searching for each other in a room full of teammates and staff.

It’s been difficult to admit that I still get butterflies when she’s near, and that this chapter isn’t as closed as I once thought. Am I ready to let her in again? She hurt me in a way no one else ever has, and that’s something I’ll never forget. But I just miss her, that’s all. Nothing more... or is there more?

It was our last evening in Spain, and the entire staff and team went out for drinks at a local bar. This time, my mind wasn’t occupied by a certain brunette American.

Instead, it was an Irish defender who caught my attention.

It wasn’t the first time Katie McCabe and I had spent time together outside of work. I wouldn’t exactly call it flirting, but we always had a good time laughing together. She knows how to talk to a woman, and let’s just say she’s not hard on the eyes either, so it’s a win-win situation, isn’t it?

When Katie rested her hands on my waist, it was enough to set Emily off. She grabbed me by the arm and pulled me outside. I was too stunned by her actions to even react.

"Is she your new girl?" she asked, her voice sharp. I had to hide a smirk.

"What do you mean, Emily?"

"You heard me. Is Katie McCabe your new girlfriend?" I chuckled again, maybe a bit tipsy from the drinks Katie had bought for me.

"No."

Emily didn’t believe me. I could see it in her eyes.

"Then explain to me why you’re giggling at every statement she makes and why the hell are her hands allowed on your body?"

My face grew serious. "What’s this, Emily? Are you jealous of someone who’s just being friendly? You? The one who ended this relationship, if I may remind you?"

That was it. That was the boiling point for Emily.

"I messed up by breaking up with you, because ever since then, I’ve been missing you every single day," she shouted, her voice frantic. My eyes widened, and my heart melted at her words.

Without thinking, I leaned in and pressed my lips to hers.

"Finally!" Lotte and Alessia cheered from inside the bar. Finally.

The plane landed in London. Coming back home, my hands locked with the girl I’ve always loved. This is us now—forever.

[its-a-me-mango]

THANK YOU ALL FOR AN AMAZING YEAR! HERE'S TO MANY MORE!

Alllright, final thing to close off today, and what better than with a great big THANK YOU to everyone for sticking with me for a whole year! Regardless of if you’ve been around since I first joined or if you only just followed me today, thank you so much for your support of me and my work. Knowing there are so many fantastic and wonderful individuals who all enjoy what I make is just indescribable, I get to wake up and enjoy creating things I love for the series I love so dearly all while so many amazing people enjoy what I make too. I really can’t put into words how thankful I am for everyone who follows me but genuinely from the bottom of my heart, thank you, thank you all for an amazing year and here’s hoping for many more to come!

Now, I do have a few special dedications to a few certain individuals, if I didn’t get the chance to include you PLEASE don’t think that I don’t value you in any way! There were so many cool and talented people that I wanted to thank but I simply didn’t have time to do so! You are all so important to me and it does kill me a little that I can’t thank everyone, but I am just one guy at the end of the day so again please don’t take it personally, I am still so thankful for everyone and I want you to know this. <3

ANYWAY LONG ASS BLOCK OF TEXT UNDER THE READ MORE

So, in no order in particular

@lizaluvsthis @shygirl4991 @b-r-i-n-g-x - I’m putting you all together as one because I always see you guys working as a group so it feels wrong to split you guys up lol. You were all some of the first people I ever saw in the SMG4 fandom and your contributions inspired me so much to make my own stuff too! Everything you guys make always has so much heart and soul put into it, Brewing Romance, Split into 3’s, Gay Ogres, they’re all some of the first projects I remember seeing and for that I wanna thank you guys for motivating me to make and create my own things within this fandom! Even if you guys aren’t as active now or have moved on from those projects, I still hold them dear to me so keep making and creating because you guys are all so amazing at it! <3

@mothsbakery - Moth my beloved friend, I don’t know where to start, when I first got into SMG4, I was so worried about sharing it with my friends because I was worried it would somehow get turned against me in some way (blame that damn trauma lol), so having you take a passing interest in it was such a major relief to me. I’m so glad I’ve been able to sit down with you and watch the few episodes that we have because they’ve been so much fun! I’m so glad that we’re friends even after all these years. I know I’m not always the best at keeping in touch but I do genuinely appreciate your friendship and all that we’ve done together. Please keep making and creating and enjoying what you love, seeing you come to my DM’s with your newest musical piece is always such a joy to listen to and it’s been so wonderful to watch you improve over the years! Keep being amazing Moth, I’ll chat to you soon I promise! <3

@strange0-0storm - STOOOORM!!! (POINTING AT YOU POINTING AT YOU) FREAK!!!!/J I’m kidding lol, Storm I am so glad I’ve gotten the chance to talk with you, even if it's brief, you are so fun to talk to that I can’t wait to get the chance to chat with you again about OC’s or just anything really! Your work is always so yummy, whether it's SMG4, Gravity Falls, Popee The Performer, and more, your art is always just so full of character and it just makes me wanna keep doing what I’m doing and it helps me not worry about branching out at some point to something else. No matter what I will always come back to your work because it's so amazing and it’s even better knowing it’s made but such an equally amazing person, stay awesome Storm! (also RhythmDoctor 4 life they should kiss and make out more JHBBSGHBSGH) <3

@bluesbox - Blue! Dude you are so freaking cool I cannot put it into words, not only is your work fantastic and such a joy to interact with, but you’re also so dedicated to characters lore and interactions that I can’t help but wanna be just like that! I’ll never forget when you first dropped the TSB lore presentation that shit was SO WILD, knowing there's someone who's so invested in other peoples OC’s (including my own!) to such an extent is honestly so amazing, and it really pushes me to invest more time into my own work! Knowing there’s someone out there who genuinely takes so much interest in it is so uplifting, so thank you for always wanting to know more about what I make as well as everyone else, we need more amazing people like you Blue, keep being you! (also PS, the way you give Mango glasses is probably my favourite thing someone has given him, it makes me so happy to see every time, don’t tell anyone shhhhh) <3

@libbytwq - LIBBY, LIBBY OMG I don’t think I’ve ever met another SMG4 fan who just gets the same sense of humor as me so well, I love being terminally on Tumblr and having someone else who is also terminally on Tumblr, it’s so refreshing lmao! Lore not only are you an amazing person to talk to, you are also so insanely talented to match, all of your work has so much charm and passion put into it that I can just sense it with every piece, I always want to know more with your characters like I NEED the full SMGL:E lore or else I will explode and die, that’s how good you are at getting people invested in your work! You’re so great at creating interesting and engaging characters/stories that it motivates me so much with my own work. You have so much love for what you do it’s so wonderful to see, please keep creating forever and always because your work is such an absolute joy to see. I love getting the chance to chat with you so much and I can’t wait to chat with you again, thank you for being such an amazing friend Libby! <3

@hamlos - Hamlos, your work is truly incredible. I really can’t express it enough, it’s so dynamic and flexible in such a beautiful way, everything you make is just so amazing and that's just talking about your art itself, the characters you have are so interesting I always want to know more about them, especially Cardiac I seriously love him so much and having him paired with Mango is so wonderful, they really go together so well! I’ve never had anyone go so crazy (positive) over my characters before and It’s so amazing to see, every time you come to me with your amazing work it’s always such a nice thing to see! I know I am not always the best at responding but I do always see and read everything you send me and it always leaves me with a big smile on my face. Even if you’re not super into SMG4 right now, thank you for all that you’ve done and all that you’ve made for me, HeartBeet will always have a special place in my heart and I hope it does for you too, they are gay after all lol. <3

@neo91502 @hexsie @aquaproductions - Grouping you all together even though you all couldn’t be more unique and individual, every single one of you is so special and amazing to talk to, I legit get so excited any time one of you joins a VC with me because all of you are so fun to hang out with for so many reasons! Neo omg you are honestly such a nice person to chat to and be around, you’re always so fun to hang out with and you’ve convinced me to sit down one day and listen to Epic the Musical because every time you go crazy over the word Epic, I can’t help but find it so cute lol. Nova your obsession with Hex3 is so sweet and I’m genuinely glad you’re having so much fun with it, seeing you go on rambling about your OC’s will always be such a joy to see and you know what yes one day I will draw Hex3 just for you, gimme a second though (dies first /j). And Aqua, I had no idea how much of a sweetheart you were to talk to, you are honestly so cool and I’m so glad to have you in my DM’s sending me amazing fanart that you know I’ll like, thank you so much for being so awesome and I’m giving you platonic smooches right back at ya so watch out!!! All of you are again so amazing and I can’t wait to keep chatting with all of you! <3

MY BELOVED WHO SHAN’T BE NAMED BUT I KNOW YOU’RE READING THIS!!! - Hai babe, listen, I can’t believe the whole time you’ve been dating me I’ve been an SMG4 fan, that must be so embarrassing to you lol /j but thank you so much forever and always for sticking with me. You are truly the light of my life, I treasure every moment we spend together and I am waiting for the future to come so that I can spend it with you forever and always. Thank you for not only indulging in my interests with me, but for enjoying me for who I am, everytime you call me cute for getting giddy over SMG4 it honestly makes my heart flutter and it reminds me of why I love you so much, I wouldn’t be who I am without you and I hope you can say the same thing for me. I cannot wait to get the chance to see you again in person, I need to kiss you sloppy style soooooo bad it's making me bark and growl grrr grrr bARK BARK BARK anyway I love you so much and I always will. (I will forever kiss you for getting me Smug I can’t believe you got him, he’s like a fucked up and evil son to me) <3

@ominus-potato @theartistisme43 @coralalala64 - Grouping you all together even though I have different things to say about all of you, but regardless, all of you are such amazingly talented people that I’d love to get to chat with you all properly one day, even if I’ve talked with you guys a bit it’s not enough! I’d love to get to know you guys better at some point lol. Ominus your work is just so good I can’t help but feel happy anytime I see it. I promise one day we will meet at a convention, I’m so mad I missed you once I won’t let it happen again! Cantro, your work is incredible!!! Every time I see it I’m so amazed with what you’ve made that it just gets me excited to see what else you can create, I am manifesting with all my strength that if you do ever decide to apply as a SMG4 machinima artist, that you get it because god damn you deserve it! And Coral, THE CREATURE CREATOR!!! I love your lil creatures so much, and OMG you have to teach me how to do such amazing pencil work, your work always inspires me so much and I’m so glad I’ve gotten the chance to chat with you a lil, your gif collection is truly frightening but in the best way possible. Again all of you are so amazing so please keep doing what you’re best at! <3

@tiredsmashbros - Tomm, Mr Tiredsmashbros, holy shit where do I even start with you. First of all, I would probably not be thanking half the people in this piece if not for you, I know how scary setting up a server was for you but I will forever be so thankful that you did. Finally getting the chance to chat with not only you, but so many amazing people in the SMG4 fandom has been an absolute joy and I am forever thankful for you for creating such an open and accepting space, you and Radiant are seriously so awesome for all the work you’ve put into that place. It’s from your server that i’ve learnt how wonderful and generous you are as a person, I really cannot think of anyone kinder than you Tomm, the way you always have an essay planned for every piece of fanart you get, from just your overall positive attitude, I am so glad I’ve finally gotten the chance to meet you after just being a fan of your work for so long. Your work has been such an inspiration to me and you’ve always been someone I wanted to chat with and the fact that I am now is!!! Crazy!!! I can’t believe you were scared of me at one point lol. Anyway thank you Tomm for being such a fantastic friend overall, I need to know TSB’s lore right now, can you whisper it to me I promise I’ll keep it a secret, regardless stay awesome dude, you deserve nothing but joy and happiness forever and always. Qwah Tuh (also Burgerfruit beloved, they should get weirder /j) <3

@doodledev1l - Doodle!!!!! Okay I know this sounds weird but genuinely finding another British SMG4 fan has been so refreshing, not only that but you’re super fun to talk to and be around so it’s even better! Getting the chance to hang out and chat with you is always so fun, I love getting to hear what you’re working on for uni and I always hope that it goes well for you, I know how stressful it can be lol. Regardless, I know you’ll do amazing because I’ve seen how dedicated and talented you are when it comes to your work, again I hope the rest of uni goes well for you because you deserve it, we gotta end your bad luck streak somehow lol. Thank you for being such an amazing person to chat and hang out with, keep up the amazing work dude, I’ll get you a tescos meal deal one day I promise. <3

PHEW, THAT’S EVERYONE, again thank you all so much for sticking by my side for a year! Doesn’t matter what time you showed up, I will always be thankful to know all of you, keep being awesome I love you all. I die now

Mango <3

[portraitsofguilt]

SEVEN MINUTES IN HEAVEN jinx au/powder

content warnings.          18+ MDNI, suggestive/angsty content, gn! reader, hinted jock/masc reader, use of y/n (once), mentions of vi/caitlyn/caitvi, making out, kissing, seven minutes in heaven game | wc: 1,05k

author's note.   so if you ever saw grey’s anatomy and the part where derek tells mark to not touch lexie? yeah that mixed with 7 minutes in heaven because I’m in a mood lmao- hope you guys enjoy, reblogs and comments are always appreciated <3

lose yourself sometimes…

that’s what vi always told her shortly before the incident. powder knew she meant well, that she wanted powder to be a little more reckless, a little bit freer than she was when vi started going to the academy, that she wanted her sister to make some mistakes and not regret them. that’s why she accepted the invitation to a party that was just before the first day of academy.

“powder and… y/n!” claggor said before taking another sip of his red cup. powder looked up from the bottle, eyes locking on your form as you down your drink and jump up after a couple of back pats from a friend.

you were an old friend of vi’s, started at the academy at the same year and the two of you went to the same gym and sports team all of your years up until… before everything happened, vi had you over more than a couple of times and powder has stared at you from her window more times than she wanted to admit, watching as her sister and you did your silly games and competitions. but how couldn’t she? you noticed her in ways no one did, she wasn’t just vi’s sister to you, she was powder every time you talked or mentioned her.

…and don’t miss out on the things I did.

the closet wasn’t a piece of furniture, it was a walk-in closet, the small room’s wall filled with expensive shoes and dresses that probably belonged to your friend’s mother.

“it’s rude to stare you know…” you trailed off, looking over your shoulder to find free space so you can lean against the wall. powder’s cheeks heat up, burying her face in her shoulder but still trying to steal some glances towards your way. your shirt was a lower cut than usual, your black jeans much tighter, perfectly capturing the curves and toning of your body.

“I never knew you noticed- you could have mentioned if it was making you uncomfortable!” powder muttered, sort of teasingly, taking a step to the other side of the closet. embarrassment washed over her face and how unfortunate that this room was so small there was no way you didn’t see her blush.

you chuckled, reaching out to take her hand and pulling her closer to you. “why are you nervous, powder? it’s just me,” you smiled, interviewing your fingers. you did this time to time, powder told you that it was calming, that the slight warmth of your hand and the smell of your smell.

“I’m nervous ‘cuz it’s you…” powder knew you would force her into anything, and maybe that’s why she was so nervous, because you weren’t. because that meant she has to be the one starting, starting something, she has never done too many times for herself.

‘and I’m nervous about missing out on you…’

so, powder did, leaning in to meet your lips and she was ready to for you to push her off, yell at her for what she was thinking. but the hand on her cheek wasn’t pushing her away, it kept still like it was afraid to move, a tad shaky-

was it because you were pitying her, that you didn’t want to hurt her feelings? and if not, was it okay to be asking for so much from you, it should be alright for you to let her, right? stupid powder… she’s already swept away by desire. the way her lips open when your tongue pushes against them, the way her body flushes against your and both of you tumble in the pile of clothes on the ground, powder falling into your lap.

she follows your lead, letting your tongue dominate her, letting her free hand grab the back of your neck to hold you close. she did her best trying to keep herself up and steady, moving her hand to your shoulder. powder was shivering from excitement, goosebumps exploding on her body every time you brushed your thumb against her cheek, deepening the kiss with little dips.

“more…” she whimpered, unlacing your hands, and moving it up your arms, bunching the fabric of your shirt between her weak fingers. your lips pressed into her neck, hand skillfully slipping to her chin, holding her so you could turn and move her as you pleased. your other hand tugging her shirt out of her pants, slipping a couple of fingers under the cloth and moving them up her side.

she knew what was coming and she couldn’t be more excited, maybe it was the alcohol that got her all excited beside you, maybe it was just that you have finally giving her what she has been waiting for. your out most and undivided attention, only seeing her, thinking about her, and wanting her.

“I think the seven minutes are up.” you murmured into the crook of her neck, placing on last kiss on her delicate skin before pulling away, patting the sides of her thigh to rush her movements, “I don’t… vi wouldn’t…” your voice falters as you help her up, assisting her fixing her shirt and hair. you pushed the door open, taking one last glance over your shoulder.

it felt like a lifetime ago, your promise to vi, to never to touch her sister but to help her find herself in this confusing world and to never let her lose out on things like she did on the girl she met at the academy. caitlyn was her name? you still see her around campus, but she is… not herself anymore.

“my promise to her? I think I just went against it…”

[hellfirenacht]

Anomaly Chapter 5

Fic Summary: You can talk to anyone in school with no problem. At least, anyone who’s not named Eddie Munson.

Chapter Summary: You and Eddie make some calls and get to know each other a little more.

Tags: Eddie Munson x Reader, one-sided enemies to lovers, one-sided pining, miscommunication trope, anxious-ish!Reader, fem!Reader, Reader is not described, no use of y/n

Word Count: 2.4k

Master List

No beta, you all should know better by now.

“You’re old enough to buy your own now, you know. I’m only gonna up-charge you.” 

“What? Can’t a girl just buy some smokes from her friend?” 

“Right. Friends.”

“Fine, then I’m supporting a local business.” 

“What do you actually want, Stacy?”

“I’m just making sure that you two are going to play nice.”

“What the Hell? Shouldn’t you be telling her that?”

“She’s always nice.”

“Right, and I’m the queen of Sheba.”

“Well then, your majesty, just give me my smokes and I’ll be on my way.”

Bev wasn’t too happy that Eddie was going to be coming in an hour and a half later than expected on his Wednesday shift but she waved it off. The Hideout survived without him for god knows how long, the small dive could handle losing a busboy for a few hours on a weekday night. 

He sauntered into Ms. Benson’s classroom a fashionable ten minutes late, and a few dollars richer. You were already sitting at a desk chatting with Ms. Benson about who-knows-what before taking his own seat on top of the desk. 

If Eddie had to be here, he might as well rebel in his own way. He really would rather be bussing tables and trying to convince Bev to give him extra time on stage than do school services with someone who hated him. 

“Nice of you to join us, Mr. Munson.” Ms. Benson said, ignoring the fact that he was on his desk. She pulled out a thick binder and a rolodex that looked like it would fall apart if she didn’t hold it just so. “In here, you’ll find the budget for Spring Day and all of the different vendors and events that we’ve used over the past ten years.” 

Being the smart woman that she was, she placed the rolodex in front of you and dropped the binder on Eddie’s lap. He raised an eyebrow and flipped through it casually, as if looking through the Spring Day binder would provide him with secrets to the school that he could use to force Higgins to let him graduate this year. 

“There’s a phone in the teachers lounge you can use.” She continued, grabbing her own purse. “Let me know what you come up with on Monday.” 

“Wait- are you leaving?” You asked, jaw dropped as Ms. Benson started out of the room. “You’re not gonna help?”

“There’s only one phone. Just get some quotes for vendors. All of the information is in the binder. Just close the door tight when you leave.”  

Your mouth was still agape as Ms. Benson left, which was very amusing to Eddie. It was dead silent before Eddie burst out in a maniacal cackle that echoed through the classroom and made you jump. That also amused Eddie. 

“Well well, it looks like it’s just us in charge of Spring Day.” He got off the desk and dropped the binder down where he had just been sitting. Eddie leaned over the binder and flipped through it. “I’m thinking evil clowns, adding balloon popping back but with knives, and a petting zoo with snakes and goats.” Eddie turned and grinned wide at you. 

“What, no fortune teller to tell you how you’re gonna die a gruesome death?” Your voice was flat, but Eddie could pick up the hint of amusement in your voice which made his grin widen. 

“I’m sure we can dress you up in something covered in stars. I’ll sit under the table and shake it. We’ll make a killing!” Eddie laughed. 

“A killing? Really?” You shook your head at the terrible joke and flipped through the rolodex with a sour look on your face. Eddie hadn’t meant to make a pun, but if it annoyed you he’d keep it up. 

Play nice.

As if Stacy had any say over what happened between the two of you. He barely knew either of you.

“I don’t think we’re supposed to charge for anything, anyway.” you continued, flipping through the cards almost as fast as Doug flipped through long boxes at the comic shop. 

“What doesn’t kill Higgens won’t hurt us.” Eddie pressed, not even fully invested in the idea himself. Something about his talk with Stacy just got under his skin, and the only way he could shake it was by getting under yours now. 

“I don’t think half of these businesses even exist anymore.” you said to yourself as you kept flipping through the rolodex with your good hand. Eddie sighed and figured you were ignoring him until you continued. “This laundromat shut down last year. I heard it was a front for some mafia and there was a shootout.”

Eddie perked up a little, had that been an attempt at playing along? It wasn’t completely in line, but everyone in town knew that the laundromat had just been flooded from the inside when a pipe burst. 

“There’s no mafia in Hawkins.” Eddie said, looking over your shoulder at the rolodex. “Only cults that sacrifice people to the dark forces.” 

You stopped messing with the rolodex, and Eddie wasn’t sure if he’d said something wrong. You had apologized before, maybe it was too soon to joke about it? 

Eddie was usually good at reading people, but you were harder to understand. 

“So, what’s the budget that we’re supposed to be working with?” You asked, changing the subject. 

“Three pennies and an expired coupon for Benny’s.” Eddie replied, flipping back to the first page. 

“Yeah, that sounds right. I guess there’s no room in the budget when the basketball team needs new jerseys or the cheerleaders need pom-poms.” you rolled your eyes, done messing with the rolodex. 

Eddie was a little surprised at the dig towards the cheerleaders, considering your best friend was one. Had been one. Why the hell had she wanted to buy smokes from him today?

The two of you finally got up and made your way to the teacher’s lounge. Ms. Teedee, the art teacher, gave him a half hearted wave as she finished washing her coffee cup. Eddie liked Ms. Teedee, she didn’t give a shit about his reputation. Art and shop were the only classes he had ever done consistently well in, so when he was saddled with a third senior year he decided to re-take art as an easy A. 

The two of you spent the rest of the afternoon calling places and taking down numbers. You did most of the talking, but Eddie took charge when you got up to use the bathroom. 

Eddie was surprised when you came back, well that you came back. He wouldn’t have been surprised if you had run for the hills and left him alone. But you did come back, two bags of chips in hand. One of them was offered to him. 

“Thanks...?” Eddie didn’t mean for that to come out as a question, but it did anyway. How was it that one minute you hated him, but another you were apologizing? You were scandalized to be left alone with him to work on this, and yet came back with food. 

He shouldn’t trust it, but he also wasn’t too good for free snacks. 

“So, what’s your deal?” Eddie asked, timing his question with you shoving a few large chips in your mouth. 

“Huh?” was your graceful reply as you covered your mouth with your hand. He could see that his timing was not appreciated, which made him feel better. 

“Your deal. Which of these fine cliques here at Hawkins Hell do you belong to?” Eddie elaborated, spreading his arms as if gesturing to a crowd when in reality he was gesturing to the table the phone was sitting on. 

You took a moment to finish chewing, giving him a glare as you finally got the chips down. Okay, maybe Eddie felt a little bad for that, as you had been nice enough to get him a snack. 

Play nice.

He was a dungeon master, he wasn’t known for playing nice. He could at least play fair though. 

“I don’t belong to anyone.” you said finally, flipping through the binder and not looking at him. “I got in late, made friends with Stacy and... I don’t know. This late in the game, cliques aren’t exactly taking new applicants. Not this close to graduation when everyone has known each other since elementary school.” 

Eddie looked at your broken wrist again, looking at all the different signatures. For someone who didn’t belong to any group, you sure were on everyone’s good side. 

Everyone had some group they belonged to. That’s how high school worked. The Freaks sat with him, the Jocks sat with their teams, the Science Nerds sat with the science nerds... that’s how high school- no, that’s how the world worked, according to Eddie. 

Your response would normally have you tucked away as “new kid” or “freshman” but neither of those fit you. You knew too many people. You hung out with an ex-cheerleader, but you weren’t exactly jumping around with excitement at the last pep-rally. Stacy still dressed like a cheerleader, and was just as nosy as one but you didn’t look popular. 

Not that there was anything wrong with the way you looked to Eddie, you just didn’t look or dress like the popular crowd. He could tell you apart from the near identical wave of perms and ponytails. 

What was your deal?

When Eddie didn’t respond in an appropriate amount of time for you, you responded with the same question. 

“What’s your deal, Eddie?” His name sounded foreign coming from your mouth. 

“Huh?” he asked, shoving a chip into his own mouth, mimicking you. You rubbed your face and let out a laugh, to his surprise. 

“What’s your deal? Or, I guess what’s Hellfire’s deal?” You clarified. 

“Well, you see, it’s a fantasy game-” 

“Not a cult?” 

“I can neither confirm nor deny that.” 

“Go on.”

You didn’t interrupt him again as he started explaining the bare basics of the game, figuring that you were just looking for an excuse to stop calling people for a moment. That was fine with Eddie, he’d happily sit here and rant about his favorite game in the teachers lounge, tainting the warden’s space with the game that they tried to hide away from the rest of the inmates. 

What he didn’t expect was for you to be listening so intently. You were looking at him, really really looking at him. If Eddie didn’t know any better, and he liked to think that he did, you seemed to be actually interested in the world he was opening up up to you. 

His eyes glanced down at your cast, and the curly signature of Chrissy Cunningham shimmered slightly on the underside of your cast. Eddie could barely make out her last name, but he could assume that the glitter gel pen signature belonged to the cheerleader. 

That reminded Eddie that, popular or not, you were still in a completely different world than him. One where people actually liked you and didn’t sneer at you for bullshit reasons. 

But then why were you looking at him so intensely? 

“So you’re playing make believe with dice and if you roll high you can do things and if you roll low you eat shit.” You said, crumpling up your bag of chips. 

It was a grossly simplified explanation of the game that Eddie had poured hundreds of hours into. 

“Yeah, basically.” At least that had killed a good fifteen minutes. 

“And you’re god.” You added, which Eddie did appreciate. 

“No, I’m Satan, remember?” He flashed you his most charming smile and you just laughed again. 

“You aren’t that bad.” You sounded like you meant that. 

“Tell that to my players, they say I’m worse than Satan.” He said with pride. 

Your conversation was interrupted by the bell, announcing that any clubs needed to pack up and leave. Eddie took that as your cue that you were done. 

You closed the binder and the notes that you two had taken over the past hour and took a deep breath. 

“Wait, shit, Mrs. Benson left. What do we do with this?” You asked, motioning to the binder and rolodex. “Do we just leave it here?”

Eddie wouldn’t have thought twice about just dumping it on one of the tables and leaving. He still had his shift to get to, but... 

“Come on, we’ll drop it on her desk.” he said, and walked out of the lounge before you could protest. 

You caught up to him a moment later, glaring at him for ditching you and leaving you to scramble with your things. Eddie wasn’t sure if he liked you more when you looked like you were hanging on his every word or looking at him with annoyance. Maybe Eddie just wasn’t sure if he liked you. He sure couldn’t tell if you like him at all. 

“It’s locked.” you said. 

“Barely. Make sure no one’s coming.” Eddie squatted down and pulled out a thin strip of plastic from his coat. He could feel his eyes on him and he looked up at you as you gaped. “Not me, look out for anyone else.” he clarified. 

Once you had looked away and down the hall, it didn’t take more than a few seconds for Eddie to jimmy the lock open. He grabbed the rolodex and the binder from you before you knew what was happening. 

Eddie had broken into the classroom, dropped the items off the desk, and slipped back out into the hallway in less than a minute. 

“How’d you learn to do that?” you asked, following him out towards the parking lot. 

Eddie just shrugged. “I’m a man of many talents.”

It was cool outside, the winter weather seemed to finally be on its way out. A small beep signaled you to the sleek car that Stacy drove and you waved at her. Being the good friend that she was, Stacy had offered to drive you home that night. 

“I guess, I’ll see you next week.” you said to Eddie. 

“Same bullshit time, same bullshit place.” he agreed, watching you hop into the car before heading off towards his own van and drive off. 

“Sooooo, how was your date?”

“It wasn’t a date, it was school.”

“Did you make out in the teachers lounge?” 

“No, I gave him a hand job in the janitor's closet.”

“The one by the gym, or the one by the science lab.”

“The gym. Smelled worse but at least there weren’t any dangerous chemicals.” 

“No, really, tell me what happened.”

“We called different places to get quotes for Spring Day. He also talked about Dungeons and Dragons for fifteen minutes.”

“And then you made out?”

“No.”

“But you wanted to.” 

“....Stacy, I’ve never wanted to blow someone more in my entire life.”

Author Notes: Sorry this took so long, I got so brain dead writing this. I really need to visit more of the source material. I love Eddie, but he just hasn't been talking to me much lately. Hopefully when Rise of Hellfire comes out it'll help lol

Tag List: 

 @eddiemunsonfuxks @kirsteng42 @strangereads @pedroschka @generoustrashpeach

@sheneedsrocknroll92 @cyanfairywren @crocworkships @tomtomslongdong @aphrogeneias

@ghcstpyre @totheforestandtheocean @stevekeeryswife @dreamyyy222222 @ajnerdess

@sp1dyb0y1008 @projectcampbell @emxxblog @thebadbatchfan

@transparentenemypenguin @ghoulsgraveyard @spread-the-hope @exploding-bonbon @paleidiot

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@sassidykassidy @cultish-corner @thedoubleexposurephotography @bambibiest @wheels-of-despair

@amieinghigh @hazydespair

[gretagerwigsmuse]

But tonight, you were on the clock instead of watching - this made me smile each time i read it

but not even the decent severance package they sent you out the door with could have cushioned that blow. You’d been laid off from your tech job just in time for your industry to be hit with hiring freezes - okay but now i can really pretend she’s me

like a groundhog’s day from hell - HAHA

You couldn’t remember who your first celebrity crush was, but you definitely remembered the boy with the curly brown hair who was responsible for giving you butterflies in your stomach for the very first time. - i mean matt damon, but if i had bradley bradshaw around growing up id forget all about him

You’d always hoped he remembered you just as fondly. - oh 🥺

Just like you knew that he was left-handed but preferred to throw a baseball with his right. - i love these little details! this and the stuff about the dole whip and mini golf are so sweet and from a time gone by

“I don’t know about ‘hotter’, but probably taller since that last time I saw you.” - AND BROADER 🤭 oh my god he’s so pretty and he had the perfect response to this

more below 💕

“I keep telling the squad to stop underestimating the old man, but they never learn. They’re still just as competitive as ever.” - HE WAS THE ONLY ONE IN THE MOVIE WHO CAUTIONED AGAINST THE PUSHUPS BECAUSE HE KNEW!!!

“I feel like there’s some kind of ‘the birds and the bees’ joke here. One I’m not qualified to make since you were always the funnier one of the two of us.” - ohmyfuckinggod he’s such a NERD ugh i love him

The way Penny said it always made it seem like you should know who she was talking about - girl thinks she’s SLICK

“I’d like to catch up, if you have time for an old friend.” Friend. The word shook you out of whatever Bradley Bradshaw induced haze you’d found yourself in. - oh sweet girl 🥺 my stomach dropped at that too

He helped you paint the kitchenette in the loft a soft blue- with your aunt’s permission, of course. - this is so?!? who will come into my kitchen and be hungry for me!?! like!? and the tight uva shirt?? bye (don’t even get me started on the family dinners)

He’d even taken you for a spin on his motorcycle. - not to derail, but can you imagine smart aleck doing this? oh my god bradley would go mental (affectionate)

It was nice to have a friend. - oh sweet girl 🥺 and i love the part about her not being too hard on herself because he really is the sweetest boy and it’s so easy to have a crush on him

“It’s the weekend, Bee,” Bradley said like it explained everything. “It’s a Wednesday.” - everything about this has me giggling

because then he was leaning in, in, in. - THE REPETITION!!! and then friend friend friend!!!

He ended up giving Penny and Mav the same treatment too. Although Pete shoved him away good-naturedly when he tried to plant a particularly sloppy one on him. - OBSESSED with this!!! i know he’s a head kisser!! especially since maverick is so goddamn short! and the bit with amelia!?? BEST FRIENDS SIBLINGS (edit: did he get her a christmas present? i love the visual of her just standing super still and everyone else in the house being a little chaotic)

Everything sparkled and shined, the light bouncing off everything gave the bar a wonderfully hazy glow, it was the perfect ambiance for the most hopeful night of the year. - i wanna go to a new year’s party like this with all my friends 🥰

Bradley was dressed up in a navy suit that fit him in all the right places, looking more handsome than you knew possible. All broad shoulders and thick thighs. The top button of his pristinely pressed white shirt undone, giving you a peek at the divot base of his throat. - STOP THIS! how dare you keep this from me!?? oh my god it’s a FANCY PARTY!?? god he’s so pretty and tall and broad AND HIS THICK THIGHS!?! she’s stronger than any naval aviator

Bradley chuckled and reached out taking an end of the little rhinestone bow that dangled from right beneath your neck where the straps met and twirled it between his fingers for a moment. “I think this might be my favorite part though,” he rasps lowly. There was an intensity in his eyes directed at you that you hadn’t seen before. - jesusfuckingchrist i got butterflies why can’t he be real like you know i love a bow moment

He hadn’t come up to you at all since before the party started…saw him talking with the girl in the shiny dress and her interested eyes as you put the freshly washed glasses away. - oh 🥺 he always comes up to talk though 🥺

The countdown had snuck up on you. Just like everything else had this year. - love this sentence and i also really like how you put a little blurb after each number in the countdown. i like that the countdown ends with her smiling to herself and being happy for herself! and all the work she did with the decorations and party planning work perfectly

You’ve come to accept that he had a piece of you that you weren’t sure you were ever going to get back. But that was something for you to deal with next year. - oh 🥺 and then there was bradley 🥺

As you got back into the groove of serving people, your brain snagged on the sound of Auld Lang Syne being played on the upright piano at the other end of the bar, and the only person it could be playing it. - this is so hot of him i’m being so serious, i love auld lang syne so much, it’s so gorgeous on the piano and slowed down

That even though the ball had dropped and the confetti had fallen you weren’t ready to have the night be over yet. Knowing that the moment you locked up for good and got in your car and headed home, that the bottle of champagne you’d bought for yourself and plans with Meg Ryan and Billy Crystal wouldn’t hit quite the way you’d hope it would. - oh 🥺 this made me sad. she doesn’t want the magic to end and be alone 🥺

He says it so conspiratorially, like he’s getting away with something and you’re an eyewitness to his delinquency, as if he wasn’t a decorated golden boy of the United States Navy. - NEPO BABY!!! but ugh i just know he’s got this cheeky smile on his face!!

You’ve spent all night catering to everyone else, it’s nice to have someone looking out for you now. - this is so sweet! oh i love this like he wants to take care of her! like he easily could’ve asked her for a drink, but he does all the work!

“It was nice enough, I guess,” he says, giving you a half smile, “I’m having a much better time now though.” - sweetest boy!!!! ugh

He takes the bottle and pours you a little more. “People kept hogging my favorite bartender.” - ENOUGH!!! this is so cute!!! and their little back and forth!? the fact that he pushes back on her response is so 🤭🤭

“You see, I’ve been saving these ones for just the right girl.” - my heart would stop, my jaw would drop, i’d be a mess 🤭 this is SO cute wowowowowow

This rendition was delicate and atmospheric. Intimate. Almost like the music was wearing its heart on its sleeve. - just like is bradley in this moment!! he’s so smooth with all of this, but it still feels so earnest and sweet?

“This doesn’t feel very friendly,” you whisper. - oh sweet girl!!!! she doesn’t want to believe it yet

“You didn’t get a New Years Eve kiss.” It’s a statement. Like he knows because he was paying attention. - oh bradley 🤭 isn’t it the same thing, love and attention?

Bradley brings both hands to cup your face. - TWO HANDS!!!! oh bradley!!!

That it’s the moment he’s been waiting the last four months for. - bestie you both have been waiting for years even if you didn’t know it

But only after Bradley finally stops kissing you long enough to grab that cork he’d shot across the bar earlier, pretending not to see the way he tucked it into the pocket of his suit jacket. - i knew one of them was going to keep it!!!!

And you can’t help but think that this really will be the best one yet. - 🤭🤭 i hope so

Save Your Midnights for Me

Summary: This year has thrown you through a loop. You lost your job, you moved to San Diego, and you reunited with your summer crush from all those years ago who still is just as handsome as ever. As the clock ticks down, you can’t help but wonder what the new year might have in store for you.

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 9k

Warnings: fluff and two pining idiots in love

(Author’s note: this one is for the hopeful romantics! Happy New Year, friends!)

You’ve always loved New Year’s Eve. The excitement, the fun, the champagne, the confetti. Everyone riding the high of the hope and potential of the new year ahead.

But tonight, you were on the clock instead of watching as it inched closer and closer to midnight with every tick of the second hand.

The evening has been a whirlwind of cheerful faces as you pour pint after pint of frothy, cold beers. Your arms were definitely feeling the burn of all the margaritas and whiskey sours you’ve been serving up. You were putting all your well-earned practice from the last four months of working at the Hard Deck into good use for the steady stream of Naval patrons who had come to gather and celebrate.

But you liked the steady flow. It kept you focused; it kept you busy. With your head down and your thoughts occupied with tasks and orders and drink recipes and tabs, it spared you from having to see Bradley with the girl in the silver dress who was making it more than clear whose midnight kiss she was after.

Bradley Bradshaw had been the star in all your daydreams growing up. You just never could have anticipated that you still wouldn’t be able to kick that summer crush on him, even all these years later.

This year… hadn’t been the greatest.

The meeting you’d thought was going to be the start of a new chapter in your career with that promotion you’d been hoping and working so hard for had ended with you clearing out your desk and turning in your ID badge, but not even the decent severance package they sent you out the door with could have cushioned that blow.

You’d been laid off from your tech job just in time for your industry to be hit with hiring freezes so glacial it felt like there must have been a breakthrough in global warming, as if the ice caps weren’t melting.

You spent days then weeks then months applying and interviewing on repeat like a groundhog’s day from hell, only to encounter more closed doors than open ones. Had enough ever-so-casual networking coffee chats that you were pretty sure you’d need to switch to decaf if you still wanted to have some functioning adrenal glands by the time you were fifty.

Coming close- so, so close- so many times. Having the final decision come between you and another candidate only for your fingertips to slip off the edge at the very last moment.

Still freefalling the same way you’d been since you’d first been let go.

With your savings dwindling and spirits low, you’d decided that what you needed most was to decompress and reassess. And where better than the place where some of your favorite memories had been made.

All it had taken was one call to your Aunt Penny for the little strands of silver lining to peek out from behind the gray clouds that had filled your skies lately.

By the end of the conversation not only did you have a place to land- the furnished loft above the garage with an ocean view from the tiny kitchen- but also a just-for-now job too, getting to work with her at the bar. Something to help get you back on your feet while the dust of your imploded life settled around you as you figured out your next move.

You weren’t known for staying in any place too long as it was, so it had been easy to pack up and leave the city you’d been living in for the Southern California sun, feeling lighter than you had in ages.

Your mom’s longtime best friend was quite possibly one of your favorite people on Earth. And still is.

There was nothing you looked forward to more than those summers you got to spend in San Diego, when you got to trade your textbooks for days out on the boat. Your family would rent at home near the Benjamin beach house and for almost two months it was carefree days of endless blue water and sand between your toes.

But without a doubt, the highlight of your summer was always Bradley Bradshaw.

A few years older than you, he’d been the cute boy who was the object of all your daydreams. You couldn’t remember who you first celebrity crush was, but you definitely remembered the boy with the curly brown hair who was responsible for giving you butterflies in your stomach for the very first time.

While your brother was more than fine trying to ditch you at every turn, Bradley had always made you feel like you were right where you were supposed to be. He always made you feel included. He had been the one to teach you how to wakeboard, gave you his free dole whip when he made a hole-in-one at Tiki Town, and sat next to you the first time you ever rode the Giant Dipper Roller Coaster.

Even though Penny and Mav’s relationship had been on and off for years, Bradley had remained a steady presence in your life every July and August.

Until the one summer when he didn’t show up.

You’d sat on the stairs with your arms wrapped around your knees that first night and listened on as your mom and Penny talked, piecing together the explanation for Bradley’s absence and why your aunt was dating the uninteresting man you’d met earlier that night at dinner.

The sun, the sand, and the sights were all the same. And yet everything had changed after that.

That had been your last San Diego summer.

You moved on, you went to college, you grew up. But you had never forgotten the boy who had made you feel like sunshine.

You’d always hoped he remembered you just as fondly.

When you heard that Penny and Mav were back together, you thought there might be a chance to see him again, you were always curious about how things had turned out for you. You just never expected for him to quite literally crash back into your life.

Or for all of those sun-warmed feelings came rushing back.

It was your third day of working at the Hard Deck.

You were still getting use to the lay of the land- and announcing corner whenever you made your way out of the stockroom- when you’d come out of the back with your arms full of refill napkins packs only to collide with a wall of muscles with a less than dignified oof.

“Oh, shit!” The hand that reached out to grasp your hip was probably the only reason you hadn’t landed on your ass, even as the napkins went everywhere. “Sorry, that was my- wait, Bee?”

The nickname from your younger years was exclusively reserved for close family and friends. Shortened over time from busy bee, a name your mom still wrote in your birthday and Christmas cards, because of the way you were always pursuing new activities with the kind of intense tenacity only found in the most precocious of kids.

Although, no one who’d known you squarely post-braces had ever called you that before. And definitely not anyone so solidly built with such a masculine, raspy voice.

But you knew those rich brown eyes and sun-streaked curls.

Just like you knew that under the soft looking linen blend shirt there’d be freckles dotted along his shoulder. Just like you knew that he was left-handed but preferred to throw a baseball with his right. Just like you knew he rode the Beach Blaster four times in a row that one time, not because he liked it, but because he was trying to get over his fear of heights.

“Bradley?” The right side of his mouth pulled up in a smile, seemingly pleased you recognized him. “Bradley Bradshaw?” you repeat, because even though he was standing less than three feet away from you, your brain was having a hard time processing the boy you’d known was now the man in front of you.

You hadn’t seen him since you were fifteen.

Although, you did try to look him up once in college when you and your roommates were tipsy off cheap sparkling wine and talking about first crushes. Giggling over poor choices and high-fiving over the ones who still Had It. Only when it was your turn, you’d found out pretty quick that he wasn’t on any socials- at least none that the four of you could sleuth out drunk on sheer determination and peach Andre. They’d let you have the rest of the bottle as a consolation prize when you’d all come up emptyhanded.

Bradley Bradshaw had remained a mystery to you, until that moment.

Gone was any trace of baby fat from his familiar face, replaced with a defined jaw and crinkles around the corners of his eyes. There were scars on his cheek and neck that hadn’t been there before, but the smile underneath that mustache was the same one from those summers all those years ago.

“It’s been a long time, huh?” Bradley said.

The only difference was the cute boy you’d known growing up was now quite possibly the most handsome man you’d ever seen.

“How’d you get even hotter?” you blurted. It only took a split second for your brain to catch up with your mouth, wincing at the words that hung in the air unable to take them back.

Bradley’s eyes widened in surprise just for a moment before he laughed. Loud and unguarded and amused.

Mortified and flustered you drop down to your knees to pick up the scattered brown craft paper wrapped bundles of napkins that littered the narrow hallway. His presence- and bulk- filling up the already small space.

He kneeled down next to you, helping to collect the packs. “I don’t know about ‘hotter’, but probably taller since that last time I saw you.” You couldn’t help but notice how big his hands were as he reached for the furthest one that was sent flying as victim of your two-person Big Bang.

And broader, you think.

“We’ve been doing a lot of push-ups lately,” Bradley chuckled, “I keep telling the squad to stop underestimating the old man, but they never learn. They’re still just as competitive as ever.”

“Jesus,” you muttered under your breath, needing a rock to crawl under. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt that ruffled around a man before. So caught off guard that all semblance of casually cool had left the building. You looked at him from the corner of your eye, and attempted to diffuse the situation with some self-deprecating humor, “Well, I wish second puberty had been as kind to me as it was for you.”

“From what I can see, it looks like it was pretty damn kind to you too.”

You’d pressed your lips together and fought back grin as you shook your head, reaching for another bundle. The last thing you’d needed was for him to be charming too.

You felt his gaze on the side of your face, like he was trying to catch your eye, and when you couldn’t avoid it any further without making it weird you met those warmer than cinnamon brown eyes.

“It’s good to see you again.” There was an earnest smile still in place on his face as he passed you the napkins he’d collected from his side of the hall.

He looked at you- probably the same way you’d been looking at him only a couple moments ago- trying to reconcile the carefree girl with the stunned woman in front of him, seeing what changes could be picked out on a face that hadn’t been seen in over a decade. You didn’t dare call it interest that was flickering in his eyes, but you could safely say there was at least some curiosity reflected in them.

You knew he wasn’t flirting, just trying to make you feel better less awkward about your earlier slip. Playing along the same way he did when he’d sabotage your brother at the water gun war game at Belmont Park so that you could stand a chance at winning a stuffed animal prize.

“It’s good to see you again, too,” you replied, meaning it as you gave him a smile of your own for the first time and watching as his own grew a little wider.

“Bee? Did you find them? The napkins should be-” Penny came rounding the corner, taking in the scene in front of her and who you’d been delayed by. Your whole body jolted like she’d caught you playing 7 Minutes in Heaven instead of crouching on the floor. “Oh, I see you’ve found Rooster. And the napkins.”

“It was my bad, Penny, I plowed right into her,” Bradley- Rooster?- said standing back up, wrapping a hand under your elbow to help guide you up to your feet.

“Sorry, I’ll be right there,” you told her, gesturing with your napkin filled arms. He was quick to reach out and catch one of the slipping packs from the top of the pile before it could fall to the ground again, helping you to get them better situated and less like a Jenga stack waiting to collapse.

“There’s no rush. I just wanted to make sure you were finding everything alright.” Her eyes drifted back and forth between the two of you, before landing on him and flicking down to the hand still on your elbow. “Hey, since you’re here, would you mind grabbing a fresh keg of the Stone Brewing lager for me?”

He nodded, letting go of you and hooking his thumbs into his front pockets. “Sure thing, can do.”

“Thank you, Bradley. And Bee,” she continued, turning back to you, “You can just bring those up when you’re ready.” You didn’t know what to make of the smile she gave you before she’d set off back to the bar.

The two of you stood there in silence for a few moments, although it hadn’t been the uncomfortable kind.

Bradley cleared his throat, his mouth quirking to one side. “I feel like there’s some kind of ‘the birds and the bees’ joke here. One I’m not qualified to make since you were always the funnier one of the two of us.”

That time it was your turn to laugh. You were more than a little pleased when his deeper one mixed with yours.

You warred with yourself- still holding those damn napkins- whether or not to wrap things up and go take them to Penny, but you wanted to know more.

“Rooster?” you’d asked, tilting your head at him in question.

“Believe it or not, I finally got past that fear of heights,” he explained, “I’m a pilot now.” You felt your smile grow on its own, it was something he’d always talked about. You were happy to learn he’d made it happen for himself. “Rooster is my callsign.”

It was a name you’d heard a few times since moving into the loft above the garage. The way Penny said it always made it seem like you should know who she was talking about, you just hadn’t taken a moment to ask, figuring that you’d meet this mysterious ‘Rooster’ eventually. You just never would have guessed you already knew him.

You told him as much, adding on, “Maybe she thought we’d kept in touch.”

“I would have liked that.” You ignored the fluttering low in your stomach. There was something in his voice that made your mouth go a little dry. “What’re you doing later? Are you here for long? I’d like to catch up, if you have time for an old friend.”

Friend.

The word shook you out of whatever Bradley Bradshaw induced haze you’d found yourself in.

You didn’t know how long you were going to be here, but one thing was for sure, all the two of you were ever going to be was platonic. It was a necessary reminder before any coconut sunscreen scented daydreams tempted you off course.

A smile stayed plastered to your face, one that felt more forced than it had been a few heartbeats ago, “I’m behind the bar until midnight, but I’ll be your friendly neighborhood bartender for the foreseeable future.”

Bradley grinned. “Guess, I’ll be seeing you around then, Bee.”

“I guess you will, Rooster.”

And you did.

You went from not seeing Bradley Bradshaw for over a decade to seeing him multiple times a week.

He kept you company at the bartop, swiveling on his stool, on slow nights as you found little projects to keep yourself occupied, like polishing and reorganizing the Hard Deck’s glassware collection. Filling each other in on the important things and people that had helped shaped the two of you into the adults that you’d grown into.

Rooster introduced you to his friends and teammates, making you feel not only included but liked you belonged in that same way he had when you were kids. Seamlessly bringing up common interests you shared with the people closest to him, giving you something to connect with them on your own outside of him. Always taking the initiative to extend invites your way to hang out at the beach or to check out the best spot for breakfast or to experience a Padres game complete with an unofficial culinary food tour of Petco Park.

He helped you paint the kitchenette in the loft a soft blue- with your aunt’s permission, of course. Meticulously taping off the countertop edges and cabinets, yet somehow ending up wearing more paint on an old, tightfitting UVA shirt that had seen better days than he got on the wall.  

And on Sunday nights he was seated across from you at the oak dining table with Amelia, Penny, and Pete for the weekly dinner the five of you all had together. They’d been back together for over a year now, and it seemed like it was for good this time based on the way they looked at each other. Your aunt was noticeably happier than she’d been even just a few years ago, that spark back that had been dimmed from an unhappy marriage.

You were happy for her and Mav.

He’d even taken you for a spin on his motorcycle. It was a one and done event, reaffirming what you already knew, that you were more of a four-wheel girl than a two-wheel one.

When you weren’t at the bar or working on the few remote side gigs you’d taken on to keep your skills feeling fresh, you were helping Amelia learn to code. It wasn’t your forte, but you were having fun spending time with her and teaching her what you did know. And in return, she’d help you to revamp your wardrobe a bit. You thought California cool looked good on you.

There had been a brief moment when you’d been packing up your old apartment when you’d worried about being lonely in San Diego not knowing anyone outside of your family, but you were the furthest thing from lonely and you had Bradley to thank for that.

It was nice to have friend.

However, you were finding that crush on him harder to get over than you anticipated.

You still get annoyed at yourself when he smiles at you a certain way making your cheeks heat up and your stomach flip. Although, you try not to be too hard on yourself because he’s genuinely kind and good looking and you’re only human. God knows you’ve seen enough people notice him too from your perch behind the bar.

But there were worse problems to have.

You had spent that morning getting the Hard Deck decorated for the big New Year’s Eve party.

As the first to arrive, you’d gotten the coffee going on the ancient coffee maker that you were trying your hardest to get Penny to replace when a big hand skimmed the side of your waist, reaching past you to steal the cup you’d just poured for yourself.

You turned to see a sleepy looking Bradley standing behind you, his curled looked more like they were fresh off his pillow than the way you usually saw them styled.

“It’s too early for this.” You watched as he took a big swig from the cup, wincing as he registered just how hot Jimmy’s machine had brewed the coffee, just a couple degrees below scalding.

You gave him an unimpressed look, “Says the man who routinely wakes up at 5am for a sunrise run.”

“It’s the weekend, Bee,” Bradley said like it explained everything.

“It’s a Wednesday.”

“Schematics.” He took another deep sip of your coffee, but not before you caught the mischievous way his mouth was curved upwards. “Everyone knows the days between Christmas and New Years Day are the Wild West of the calendar year, every day is a weekend day from the 26th to the 1st.”

You actually hadn’t seen Rooster since Christmas.

You’d decided to spend the holiday in San Diego since your parents had decided this was the year they were finally going to check out the Christmas markets in Europe like they’ve always wanted too. And you didn’t want to crash your brother’s first Christmas as a dad, instead you’d sent the most obnoxious baby toy you could find online in addition to a silky soft stuffed rabbit with your niece’s name embroidered on the ear.

When you opened the front door with the pretty stained glass sailing boat picture window, you’d been surprised to see Bradley standing there with a white faux fur trimmed Santa hat and holding a bag with unexpectedly well wrapped presents in one hand and a creamy, cranberry-colored pie in the other.

Your hand stayed glued to the doorknob as his eyes trailed over you. The house had been warm but a shiver still worked its way through your body as he took in your festive pajamas.

Before he could say anything Amelia ever-so-helpfully pointed out the mistletoe you’d conveniently forgotten about that had been hung above the wood door. Frankly, she sounded a bit too enthusiastic about it.

He mumbled something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like little punk, although his tone was so affectionate that you thought you must have misheard him. But you didn’t get to think on it for too long because then he was leaning in, in, in.

Your heart shot straight into your throat at the first prickle of his mustache and then the slightly dry lips as they brushed against your cheek for the briefest of moments.

And then he pulled away all too soon.

Friend. Friend. Friend. You tried to remind yourself, but your heart was too aflutter to get the message.

He looked you straight in the eyes as he stepped back, “Can you do me a favor, Bee?”

You must have made a sound that was close enough to an mhm, because then he passed you the bag of presents and the pie waiting only long enough to make sure you had a good hold on them both before darting around you to chase after Amelia.

Amelia squealed when Bradley caught her, ducking his head down to drop a playfully chaotic kiss on her cheek.

He ended up giving Penny and Mav the same treatment too. Although Pete shoved him away good-naturedly when he tried to plant a particularly sloppy one on him.

All while your feet stayed glued to the same spot they were when he kissed you.

But that was six days ago. Probably the longest stint without seeing him since you collided with him that afternoon a few months ago.

The smell of strong coffee and cinnamon had coaxed you back into the moment, and you’d shook your head a bit like that would help you clear your mind with Bradley standing so close to you again.

“I don’t think it’ll take us too long,” you declared, trying to get focused back on the task at hand- that being the unofficial head of the NYE decorating committee, “I even made us a schedule.”

“Of course you did. Is it color-coded?” he asked over the rim of the chipped mug.

“And if it is?” you countered, unashamed of your planning. And then there was that damn smile of his.

“Then I’m really going to need this coffee,” he winked, and poured you a cup of your own.

You’d been right though. With everyone pitching in things came together rather quickly.

The morning moving steadily as the Christmas decorations were replaced with classic the gold and white and black color scheme you’d went with for the party. The silver tinsel tree covered in beach themed shaped ornaments with a few planes hung about by the front door might have stood out at odds with everything else, but metallic was a neutral in your book so you’d opted to keep the cheerful tree up just a little bit longer and tucked a few party blowers into the branches to tie it in with the rest of the space.

It was easy for you to get in the zone, delegating and divvying up the tasks on your color-coded schedule, putting all your project tracking skills to use. There were dozens of strands of string lights that had to gone up on the ceiling and along the walls. All of the windows with the snowflake cut outs you and Amelia had made for Christmas were framed in a metallic fringe. There was a station with hats and headbands and glasses in case anyone was feeling particularly festive. The tables and booths had been stocked with noise makers and confetti poppers in addition to the mirrorball centerpieces and confetti scatter.

Everything sparkled and shined, the light bouncing off everything gave the bar a wonderfully hazy glow, it was the perfect ambiance for the most hopeful night of the year.

At one point, you’d been working on hanging up some dangling golden stars from one of the ceramic mug rounders only to find Bradley standing there at the base of the ladder behind you with a well-defined arm stretched out just in case you lost balance.

And then just like that, your focus went out the window. Because then he was everywhere. He made it impossible for you to not notice him, especially since so many of your jobs and his overlapped, something you’d come to regret more and more as the hours went by.

You’d been working on tying off balloons and lamenting the fact you didn’t order another pump with the tying tool, when you’d decided to take a break to massage your numb fingertips. You looked up to check the progress made with fresh eyes, to see Rooster on a ladder helping Mav to get the netting set up for the balloon drop.

The athletic shorts he’d been wearing were hanging low on his hips. And as he reached up to hand Pete another nail it caused his t-shirt to ride up giving you a glimpse of toned stomach and tantalizing v-lines. It was just as tempting as it was taunting.

You’d switched to ice water after that.

The image was seared into your mind for the rest of the afternoon. Not even the freezing cold shower you’d hopped into the second you made it back to your loft to freshen up before the party had helped. Neither had the rushed orgasm to take the edge off, because it wasn’t your own fingers that you wanted.

He’d found you before the party well and truly started.

You’d been double checking all the prep, making sure you had the bar stocked up as was possible without losing any valuable space, when you felt a hand on your back. Bradley was dressed up in a navy suit that fit him in all the right places, looking more handsome than you knew possible. All broad shoulders and thick thighs. The top button of his pristinely pressed white shirt undone, giving you a peek at the divot base of his throat.

You weren’t sure what made you more flustered, that hint of his neck or the skin under his bellybutton that you’d seen only a couple hours ago.

A soft smile coasted over his face as he took in your New Years’ Eve finest. “You look-”

“I know, rhinestones for New Years’ Eve, how groundbreaking,” you joked, cutting him off and giving your best Miranda Priestly impression.

You were wearing a black velvet jumpsuit for the party. You loved the way it fit the curves of your body and the way the halter top made your collarbones and shoulders look. There was just a hint of skin with the keyhole near the bust. But it was also practical- right down to your plain black no-show panties you had on- so you could move easily without worrying about giving anyone an eyeful. It wasn’t the flashiest of outfits, there’d be more than enough sequins later on, but the way Bradley was looking at you made it feel like your off the rack might as well be haute couture.

“I was going to say, you look good. Really good.” Bradley takes his time letting his eyes drag down your body, his cheek kicking up when he lands on your shoes. “I especially like the birks, they tie the whole look together.”

The clogs you were wearing were decidedly unsexy, not many people could pull of the potato shoe, but you weren’t there as a party guest, you still had work to do and your night was just getting started. “I don’t think stilettos and stouts would mix together very well,” you said by way of explanation.

Bradley chuckled and reached out taking an end of the little rhinestone bow that dangled from right beneath your neck where the straps met and twirled it between his fingers for a moment. “I think this might be my favorite part though,” he rasps lowly. There was an intensity in his eyes directed at you that you hadn’t seen before.

For a moment it looked like he was about to say more, and then a glass shattered.

The sound of it caused you to crash back into your body.

“And so it begins,” you announced, taking a half step backwards and out of his touch, that rhinestone cord falling back against your sternum with a gentle thud that you felt reverberate in your chest.

You heard him say your name, but you were already setting off for a broom.

So you’d kept your head down and your hands busy.

It felt like for every drink you made, two more were ordered. Barely noticing as the final minutes of this year flew by while you garnished drinks with bright cherries and slices of lemon with a flourish before handing them off.

Offering smiles and well wishes to those here to celebrate. True to your namesake as you swiped cards and counted bills and mixed and poured and served the drinks to the ever-rotating people in front of you.

You made eye contact with Rooster a couple times throughout the night, the same way you usually did when you were behind the bar and he was there. Eyes drawn to him like a magnet against your will.

He hadn’t come up to you at all since before the party started. You’d seen him with the Daggers when you went to refill the water tank, heard the keys of the upright piano when you grabbed more ice from the back room, saw him talking with the girl in the shiny dress and her interested eyes as you put the freshly washed glasses away.

Just like he’d been the best parts of your San Diego summers, he’d become the best part of your year.

You’d spent the last four months trying to convince yourself that it was a silly crush, that you could will it away or get over it. But now just a couple moments shy of a new year barreling towards you, it was time to face the fact that Bradley Bradshaw wasn’t someone you were ever going to get over.

Although if you were honest with yourself, you weren’t sure you wanted to get over him.

You’re giving the counter a quick wipe down, taking advantage of the brief lull when the music cuts off, startling you out of your thoughts.

Twelve!

The countdown had snuck up on you. Just like everything else had this year.

Eleven!

You’d had your fill of unexpected surprises, some for the worse and some for the better. While it felt like you’d had more downs than ups, you were ending the year feeling the most content you have since you were laid off. And that was more than good enough for you.

Ten!

At the beginning of this year, you never would have guessed that you’d end it in San Diego. This year had taken from you, but it had also given you a lot. New friends, new places to explore, new memories, new hopes.

Nine!

You were still figuring things out and that was ok. Even though you still weren’t sure what was next for you, you knew everything would work out. One way or another you’d find yourself on the other side of this and able to look back with pride for making it through all the challenges that had been thrown your way.

Eight!

And while things didn’t shape out the way you anticipated them to, with goals still yet to be achieved and a vision board of ideas that you’d carry into the new year, you had so much to be grateful for.

Seven!

You liked San Diego- and not in the just-for-now way. You liked the life you were building here. You liked the beach and the sand and the sun. You liked you Sunday dinners with Penny and Amelia and Pete. You liked the people you were surrounded by. You liked the stories you’ve collected from your side of the bar. You liked the diner down the road with their perfectly shaped coffee cups. You liked your new normal while you got your feet back under you. You liked the potential you felt was here.

Six!

And then there was Bradley.

Five!

You were avoiding looking in his direction, too worried about what you might see, not wanting to end this year with another disappointment. You’ve come to accept that he had a piece of you that you weren’t sure you were ever going to get back. But that was something for you to deal with next year.

Four!

For now, you are right where you are supposed to be.

Three!

Because what is meant for you will never pass you by. Not in life and not in love. And that was something you could count on, something you could hold onto.

Two!

You smile to yourself and close your eyes.

The crowd chants One!

You breathe out and let go.

And when the cheers of Happy New Year! ring out, you breathe in and open your heart up to all the possibilities.

Enjoying the moment for what it was- exactly as it was- as the party noise makers started going off all around you.

As New Years’ kisses were traded.

As people greeted a fresh, bright New Year with wide-open and welcoming arms.

Where anything could happen.

Where anything was possible because the year was waiting to written.

You tip your head back and open your eyes, watching as the balloons you’d spent the afternoon tying knots in started to fall, slowly at first and then more until your view was a cocoon of black and gold and white and clear blocking out the rest of the world from view.

Time seemed to slow a bit as the confetti poppers joined the mix adding to the echo of fireworks going off nearby. The glints of gold and little shiny dots of sparkles and streamers seemed to hang in the air. There was a cacophony of cheerful noises, from the poppers to the people to the familiar sound of Whitney Houston being piped over the static-y speakers.

A moment of magic for you and you alone, as you pocketed the hope and optimism you felt rippling around you.

Over the next couple of hours pass just as swiftly as before. As you got back into the groove of serving people, your brain snagged on the sound of Aud Land Syne being played on the upright piano at the other end of the bar, and the only person it could be playing it.

It wasn’t long before people steadily started to trickle out the front door.

You’d made sure to shoo Penny out to the dance floor with Pete as the lineup of people slowed down enough for her to have some New Years Eve fun.

No one had gone too crazy, but even so, you helped arranged people rides to get home safe between closing out tabs and announcing the last call for the few people who wanted to stick it out until the very end. Waving to your new friends as they all slowly but surely made their exits.

You’d lost track of Rooster along the way, it would have been nice to wish him a Happy New Year, but it was probably for the best. It was easier on your heart to not know whether he left with some of the Daggers or with the girl with the silver sequins.

You just locked the door after the last couple stragglers had left for the night. You’d sent Penny away a little over a half an hour ago- along with Mav- since there’d been only a handful of people to look after.

She’d made you promise not to stay behind after locking up, but you didn’t see the harm in tidying things up a bit more. You were collecting the empty glasses that had been scattered about and abandoned on window ledges and tables when you caught a figure out of the corner of your eye, nearly causing you to drop the bus tub you were holding on to.

“Bradley! Jesus.” You set the plastic tub down on a table with more force than necessary, the glasses rattling against each other, and press a hand to your chest where your heart is rapidly knocking about. “What are you still doing here?”

You figured he left already, so you’re more than a little surprised he’s still here. And not just because he startled you half to death.

“Sorry, sorry,” he apologizes, putting his hands up. “I didn’t mean to sneak up on you, I was taking out some trash and then got held up talking to Jake for a few minutes. I didn’t realize everyone else had left.”

“I just locked the front doors,” you say, waving towards the now closed front door.

Bradley takes a cautious step closer. “So, it’s just us then?” He doesn’t even have the decency to look like he’s been partying for the better part of five hours, he looks just as handsome as he did at the start of the evening, whereas you’re sure you probably look as ruffled as you felt.

“We’re the last two standing,” you confirm, putting your hands on your lower back to stretch out the tightness that had settled along your spine over the course of the night, “But just barely, on my end.”

“You’ve been busy tonight.” You hum in agreement and reach for a foam-covered glass that was left between the coaster holder and napkin dispensers. His big hand closing around it first and he pins you with a look, leaning a hip against the table, “So tell me, why are you still cleaning when you and I both know for a fact Penny hired a crew to take care of this in the morning?”

You don’t have an answer for him, at least, not one you were willing to share. That even though the ball had dropped and the confetti had fallen you weren’t ready to have the night be over yet. Knowing that the moment you locked up for good and got in your car and headed home, that the bottle of champagne you’d bought for yourself and plans with Meg Ryan and Billy Crystal wouldn’t hit quite the way you’d hope it would.

Instead, you offer him a shrug.

Bradley’s eyes search yours for a moment before he gives you a gentle smile. “C’mon, busy bee, I think you’ve more than earned yourself a glass of champagne.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to argue, already making his way towards the bar, not that you put up much of a fight. The ‘Greatest Hits’ playlist that Penny had queued up for the night is still playing in the background, you recognize opening notes of The Cure’s “Just Like Heaven” as you trail after him.

You lift an eyebrow as he pulls out a stool for you, but he just mirrors you by lifting one of his own and gestures to the seat. You think you feel his thumb sweep over your hip as he helps you into the stool before stepping into the front bar. A little sigh of relief slips out of you, finally off your feet for the first time all night.

You’re tired, but it’s a happy kind of tired. You’d had a nice time all things considering. Seeing the bright faces of everyone tonight had made all the work you’d put in feel worth it, all the planning and prep and decorating made it worth it if tonight ended up being a fond memory for someone.

Bradley grins at you from over his shoulder mischievously, “You know, Penny’s never let me behind the bar before.” He says it so conspiratorially, like he’s getting away with something and you’re an eyewitness to his delinquency, as if he wasn’t a decorated golden boy of the United States Navy.  

You laugh, endeared by the boyish smile on his face. “Probably because you’re never wearing the right shoes,” you tease, wiggling a clog towards him.

And he chuckles, warm and affectionate.

Rooster finds the freshly washed glasses easily- Pete had done a great job as the designated dishwasher of the evening, loading and unloading glasses as quickly as they came with speedy efficiency. You see as his hand hesitates for a moment eyeing the already open bottle of champagne on the counter warily, and you point a glossy cranberry coated fingernail to the fridge under the counter, where you knew a few uncorked ones were still stocked knowing that Penny won’t mind if you pilfer a celebratory bottle to share between yourselves.

With your help he finds the chilled bottle and shoots the cork across the room with a cheerful pop! You make a mental note to pick it up later marking the spot in your mind, which he must notice because he says, knowingly, “Don’t worry, I’ll grab it later. You’re officially off the clock.”

He pours you a glass and then one for himself with a flourish, clearly showing off as the bubbles fizz to the top of the rim without spilling over. You’ve spent all night catering to everyone else, it’s nice to have someone looking out for you now.

Rooster holds out a glass for you, “Cheers, Bee.”

You smile and clink yours against his.

The bubbles burst across your tongue, refreshing and crisp. The two of you sip on your glasses of champagne in companionable silence for a few moments, enjoying the calm after a busy day and busier night.

“Did you have a nice time tonight, Bradley?”

“It was nice enough, I guess,” he says, giving you a half smile, “I’m having a much better time now though.”

You take another little sip, attributing the fluttering in your chest to the bubbles.

“It feels weird to be sitting on this side of the bar,” you muse, changing the subject, “You know, I don’t think I made you a drink at all tonight.”

He takes the bottle and pours you a little more. “People kept hogging my favorite bartender.”

You grin into your glass.

“I would have made time for you,” you say.

He leans down and fold his arms in front of him, so that your faces are level. “You would have?”

The answer comes easily. “Of course.”

Bradley gives you a look you don’t know how to interpret, like reading your face isn’t enough that he wants to know what’s going on inside of your head. You always kind of thought your cards had been on the table the whole time, but maybe you’d been keeping them closer to your chest than you’d realized.

“It was nice of you to make sure Penny and Mav got out on the dancefloor earlier.”

“You saw that?” It hadn’t been an easy feat, but it had been worth it to see them looking at each other in a way you hoped you’d find someday.

His gaze is steady when he replies, “I did.”

Flustered now, you feel your cheeks heat up. “Amelia and I had a bet about if he was going to propose tonight, and I thought I’d do my part to try and help her win twenty dollars. I didn’t think he would, at least not here in front of a crowd of people, but I hope he’ll do it soon.”

He nods, taking a sip of his own, the tips of his ears getting red.

You lean forward on your elbows, “Tell me what you know, Bradshaw.”

“I’m a vault,” he says, shaking his head.

“Does he have a ring?” you ask, elatedly.

Bradley takes another deep sip of champagne, giving you nothing, at least not with his words. But you don’t need him to confirm, not with the way his lips are turned up, clearly happy for his uncle and your aunt.

Good, you smile to yourself, that’s good.

“I also happened to notice that you didn’t get to dance at all tonight.”

“No, I didn’t.” You could have. Penny had tried to get you to take a few minutes to enjoy yourself, but you kept finding excuses to stay planted where you were. “There’s always next year,” you add, circling your finger around the base of your champagne glass.

Bradley steps out from behind the bar and takes the half full glass from your hand, setting it on top of a coaster in a move that you find entirely too appealing.  And holds out a hand out for you, “We should fix that.”

His large fingers wrap around your hand- strong and sure- as he guides you towards the old jukebox, the two of you walking over the confetti covered floor and though the sea of balloons that bobbed in your wake.

He lets go when the two of you have reached the middle of the makeshift dancefloor that had been cleared of the tables that were normally there for the night. Your feet stay put as he makes his way to the sticker covered jukebox and starts flipping through the options.

“I keep trying to get Penny to get a new one that takes a card,” you say nervously, filling the quiet, the air now charged with something new between the two of you. “Or one with an app, where people could pay and pick things from their phone.”

“Now where’s the fun in that?” he teases playfully, still scanning through the CDs, clearly on a mission to find a particular song.

“She keeps a couple spare quarters on the ledge behind it- but uhm- I’m not sure if they’re still there or not, or if people have already used them. I could grab some from the register-”

You take a half step back, but Rooster stops you.

“Don’t go flying away, Bee.” He pulls out his wallet from the inside of his suit jacket and fishes out a couple coins, holding them out on his flattened palm for you to see. “You see, I’ve been saving these ones for just the right girl.”

You didn’t know your heart could beat so fast.

Bradley slips them into the machine with a metallic plink, once and then twice. The corner of his mouth pulls up as his eyes drift over you. “Yeah, you’re definitely an N24 kind of girl.”

He punches in the code and walks purposefully back to you.

The gentle sound of an acoustic guitar crackles to life over the old speaker system of the Hard Deck, the song much slower than you were anticipating. The opening notes are familiar ones to you, but different than what you were used to hearing. This rendition was delicate and atmospheric. Intimate. Almost like the music was wearing its heart on its sleeve.

Bradley wraps an arm around you and pulls you in. His eyes are heavy on yours, you feel the weight of them everywhere. He coaxes your hand onto his broad shoulder and takes the other one in his, drawing it to his chest.

He holds you close as he leads you in a dance.

No one has ever looked at you the way he is looking at you.

“Ask me about my night again,” he murmurs, invitingly.

You swallow. “Did you have a nice time earlier tonight?”

“No.” Your breath stutters in your chest and you miss a step, but he easily guides you through it. “No,” he repeats, “I didn’t because I couldn’t spend it with the only person I want to.”

Your voice has escaped you, not that you’d trust it not to completely give you away.

“This is the part where you ask me how it’s going now.” He runs his thumb over the back of your hand, encouragingly.

“This doesn’t feel very friendly,” you whisper.

Bradley presses you even closer to him. Every part of you is touching him, and you’re warm everywhere. “That’s good,” he rasps, “Because I’m not really going for just ‘friendly’ here, honey.”

You see everything there plain as day, written all over his face.

All you can say is his name.

“Bradley.”

And he says yours in return, so gently like it’s precious to him.

“I kept hoping you’d look my way during the countdown. But then you looked so thoughtful and all I wanted was to see that moment through your eyes. I couldn’t look away, you’re so beautiful.”

Feeling brave, you slide your hands up his chest and around his neck, combing your fingers through the short hair at the base of his head. He hums, pleased and content.

“You didn’t get a New Years Eve kiss.” It’s a statement. Like he knows because he was paying attention.

Your stomach swoops, and it’s like you’re fifteen and riding the Giant Dipper again.

“Neither did you, it seems.” His eyes drop down to your mouth.

“No, I didn’t,” he confirms, raising a hand up and skimming his thumb along your lower lip. “But now I’ve got a whole year to practice.

Bradley brings both hands to cup your face. His eyes traveling from your eyes to your nose to your mouth, a soft smile on his face as he leans in to kiss you.

When his lips meet yours it’s like time stops. You can’t hear the music over the rushing in your ears or the beating of your heart. In that moment, all there is only Bradley.

There’s no hesitation in the way his mouth moves against yours. Or in the way his teeth grazes your lower lip, right before he follows it with his tongue. It’s as if he has played this moment in his head so many times before.

Like there was never a question in his mind about if it was ever going to happen, but when.

There’s a surety in his touch, in the way he cradles your face in his big hands, in the way he angles your head just right.

The way Bradley kisses you makes you feel like this is the moment he’s been waiting for the whole night.

That it’s the moment he’s been waiting the last four months for.

His kiss is sweet like cinnamon and you know you’ll never be the same now that you’ve had a taste of it.

Your first one of the year. And it belongs to Bradley Bradshaw. Just as you always hoped it would be.

He pulls away just enough to skim his lips teasingly against yours. “Happy New Year, Bee.”

“Happy New Year, Bradley.”

You grin and he dips back down to kiss you again.

Time ticks on, but this time there isn’t a countdown. Only his mouth against yours and your arms wrapped around his neck.

After a while, he pulls away again, looking entirely and thoroughly kissed. It’s a good look for him.

He smiles at you. “My mom used to believe in ‘beginning as you mean to go on’. Taking time on the first of a new year and doing something that you want to make a part of your year going forward,” he says, stroking your cheek with his thumb, “So if you’re up for it, honey, I’d like to take you out to breakfast at that 24-hour diner. Because I mean to go on with you this year and the next one after that if I’m lucky.”

“I’d like that,” you say, taking a snapshot of this moment and the way those warm, brown eyes are gazing at you. “Just as long as we leave some time for mine. I have an idea of how I’d like to ‘begin as I mean to go on’.”

“Yeah? What did you have in mind?”

You don’t answer, instead you just lean in close until you feel his smile pressed against your.

The two of you eventually lock up for the night, for good this time. But only after Bradley finally stops kissing you long enough to grab that cork he’d shot across the bar earlier, pretending not to see the way he tucked it into the pocket of his suit jacket.

He takes your hand in his warm one, his fingers slipping easily between yours like he’s done it hundreds of times before.

The sunrise is still a couple of hours away, but you can see the promise of dawn and all the possibilities it’ll bring.

Bradley turns his head back to look at you and grins, it’s wide enough that the corners of his eyes crinkle.

A new day, a new year.

And you can’t help but think that this really will be the best one yet.

Happy 2025, tgm friends! I hope this is your year! Thank you for reading!

And a big thank you to Jordan ( @gretagerwigsmuse) for all the support and encouragement and general woogirling over Bradley Bradshaw!

If you want to know what song Bradley played for Bee 🥰

You can read my other stories here!

Taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken  @callsignspark @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @ofstoriesandstardust @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

[vicsstufff]

PROLOGUE — no exceptions.

warnings: when the characters talk in any other language, you would know when the words are like this: “hello! who are you doing?”, language, smoking, camila’s dad is kinda abusive.

paring: hopkings!p.bueckers x exchange student!oc

authors note: hello everyone! this is the prologue of my first series “Behind The Screen” i’m so excited to write this and i’m constantly reading fics to motivate me and learn more. i didn’t plan that much of angst for this series but i will definitely add more than planned.

the harsh crash of the waves, the pure smell of the ocean mixed with the food from the near restaurants was addictive. this was the life that camila had her entire life, she wouldn’t give it up from nothing. “are you still going to your last year of high school?” miranda, her friend questioned her not taking her eyes of the little waves that made their way to their feet, cleaning the sand that piled up during their walk. “of course i am. where else would i go?” camila assured her, a comforting smile creeping its way in her face, miranda took her eyes of her feet and stared at the distance. “are you that sure? i heard your parents talking to the principal.” miranda took a shaky breath before continuing “they are sending you away, camila.” the smile that build up its way to camilas face quickly disappeared once miranda did her confession.

camila grabbed her dirty sandals and started sprinting towards her house. the streets were busy, summer was right around the corner and that meant one thing, tourists, camila wasn’t bother by the tourists, she actually liked them, she helps the ones that look lost or the ones that are one foot away from completely passing out because of the penetrating sun. thanks to an old lady, she even learned to speak english and a little bit of spanish too, making it more easy to speak with other tourist.

she unlocked the main door to her house, getting inside quickly, mumbling could be heard from her parents room, not to far from her own room. silently, she walked to her parents room, pressing her ear to the locked door to hear properly.

“why would we send her away!?” her mom shouted, she could hear the way that she was breaking everything that was in her eyesight “come on, woman, she doesn’t needs us anymore and we don’t need her anymore! she is almost a grown adult! she will be okay!” her father remarked her age again, she didn’t know what was wrong with her father and him being obsessed with young woman, before her 17 birthday, camila’s father was a perfect father, he bought her gifts, clothes, hair products, shoes anything you could imagine, but when her 17 birthday rolled over, he stopped being sweet to her, he didn’t care for her anymore, instead, he started focusing on her little sister, helena who was barely 15, the exact same thing happened to her mother, she know all the atrocities her father did to her.

“minnesota? really carlos? that shit is so far away!” her mother argued, minnesota? definitely it was not even near brazil or even located in brazil, maybe it was a city or a very small country? “she will be fine! she is even going to have another family” her father added, she couldn’t bring herself together and hear more than she needed to, her eyes locked with her bedroom door, she didn’t bring her phone to the beach so she would have a thousand of messages if anybody knew she was going to be exchanged.

cam

they r sending me away

p

what??

were??

cam

some place called minnesota

p

dude, omg

that’s were i live

no way

cam

seriously??

ur telling me that it’s in the usa??

p

yeahhhh

omg

please tell me ur coming to hopkins

we could finally meet

before camila could respond to her friend, her father entered her room abruptly, not even caring to knock. “hey, um, we need to talk.” her father mumbled, he was clearly nervous, but he wasn’t nervous when he was arguing with her mother. “i’m sorry, baby, you are going to study in another place.” her mother interrupted her father and hugged her tightly, her worst fears were begging to become true. she didn’t wanted to be separated from her family, neither her friends. “stop babying her!” her father barked, grabbing his wife shoulder and lunched her making her land in the middle of camila’s room. “look, you are very good academically and they offered us to exchange you for another student. it’s only going to be one year.” her father explained but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from her broken mother, her own father had destroyed her mother, he had successfully sent her away to an unknown place she obviously didn’t know, who is going to take care of helena? her mother couldn’t possibly, she was very bad emotionally, and her father didn’t believe in therapist.

camila could sense her sisters presence in the room, she looked at her doorframe, helena was there, in shock, she had seen and heard everything. her bottom lip was shaky and she gripped the doorknob tightly.

the plane she was going to take was leaving until july, even though school started in august, she knew it was her fathers plan to get rid of her faster. for the past days she couldn’t stop texting ‘p’ the unknown girl made her feel safe, every text was filled with comforting words, it made her a little exited to visit a new place but she didn’t want to admit it.

her father made her do a face time with her host family, they were very sweet, so caring, they even had a beautiful schnauzer dog, she was called monica. her prayers were heard, she was going to hopkins, minnesota, ‘p’ started talking about herself more, she had figured out that she was in the women’s basketball team, she had blonde hair and blue eyes, and couldn’t stop saying that she was definitely taller than camila.

the nights were shorter when talking to ‘p’, their conversations never ending, ‘p’ would text her even if she was in class, or in practice, it made camila’s stomach flutter, knowing that someone took their to time to talk to her, even if they were busy. she was very excited to meet ‘p’ friends too, almost all of them were from the basketball team. p started planning dates hangouts, going for a milkshake, ice cream, eating pure junk food, going to see her play, watching the stars, you named it. camila was so excited to met her, but also nervous, what if she doesn’t meet her standards? what if she expects camila to be more beautiful? camila shook those thoughts away quickly, texting p to assure her that everything will be fine.

cam

what do u think i look like

p

i have been waiting for this

curly hair (obv), little bit tanned, maybe green eyes? definitely smaller than me, freckles and a natural blush

cam

wtf

how do u how i look like

p

u r definitely fine then

camila didn’t want to admit it, but she was definitely falling for this called ‘p’.

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Love That Burns ~ Ending 2 ~ 55

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 1,950ish

Summary: Emotions rise and everything comes crashing down.

Notes: I couldn't help myself. Just had to get this chapter out before I went to sleep. Please share reactions! Please remember to review the timeline posted here.

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!

For the next week and a half, Logan and you had lunch together every day, Wade visited you during every shift, and Laura had begun pulling away. Laura had been a pretty easy child to raise, it was only a matter of time before the moody teenage years set in. Though, you knew it was more than that. You had tried to talk to her only to be met with short answers or grunts. You couldn’t help but blame yourself for some of what she was going through.

You hadn’t had an incident with your powers since the moment with Logan, in which you were grateful for. Your hands were thoroughly scarred over, but you were learning to live with it. You were trying to work past your own issues, in which Logan and Wade had a great part in that, constantly keeping tabs on you and Laura. You were becoming quick friends with the two men and it felt nice to have friends again after all these years.

It was your regular lunch with Logan. You were in your kitchen while he was drinking a beer at the table.

“I got a job,” he suddenly stated.

“You did?” You asked. “Where?”

“The mechanic’s down the street. They’ll let me work in the back and have minimal interaction with the customers.”

“That will be good for you. You need to get out more. Maybe make some friends.”

“I don’t need friends.”

“Yes, you do.”

“Well then, what are you and Wade and Laura?”

“We’re your friends, but you need people outside of this craziness.”

“And do you have any?”

“I’m getting there at work.”

The apartment door opened and closed, signaling that Laura was home. You peeked out from the kitchen.

“Hey, kiddo!” You greeted. “Logan and I were getting ready for lunch. Do you want to join us?”

“Not hungry,” she muttered, heading straight for her bedroom and closing the door.

You sighed, shoulders sagging.

“Everything alright?” Logan asked.

“It’s fine,” you responded, getting back to preparing lunch. “She’s struggling but is keeping me at arms length… She gets that from her father.”

“Or you.”

“What?”

“You’re still struggling. But you’re just masking it better than you were before.”

“You’re one to talk. I can hear you at night. These walls aren’t very thin. Do you ever get any sleep?”

“I get enough.” He took a long swig of his beer.

You scoffed. “Whatever.”

~~~

Another few weeks past with a similar routine, with the addition of Wade and Logan stopping by for dinner when you weren’t working. Between you, Laura, and Logan, you were all going through a lot but avoiding most of it.  It was a night you weren’t working. Logan just got off and headed straight of your and Laura’s place. He had let himself in quietly, only to hear an argument between you and Laura.

“For the last time, Laura, you are not going to that party,” you were clearly exasperated. “I don’t think it will be safe.”

“You never let me do anything!” Laura spat.

“I’m just trying to do my duty and protect you.”

“You’re not my real mom! I don’t have to listen to a word you say!”

The pain those words caused was more heartbreaking than anything anyone had ever said over the last few years. Logan could tell that the words hit you deep, though you were trying to cover it up. He stepped between you and Laura with a protective fury, letting the both of you know that he had entered the apartment.

“You do not talk to her that way,” he was furious at how Laura was treating you. You were just trying to protect her.

“Why? It’s not like you’re my dad!”

Those words did little to rattle Logan. “I don’t care. Y/N raised you. Show her some respect.”

“Make me.”

You had no say in the chaos that quickly erupted in your apartment living room. The two had their claws out and were actively fighting each other. Too overwhelmed to stop it as your long pushed down anxieties bubbled up, you slipped out of the apartment, tears sliding down your cheeks.

“Hey, Buttercup!” Wade’s chipper voice echoed down the hall as he headed toward you. “What are you–” The moment he saw your tears he was down on the floor in front of you. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

“Nothing,” you squeaked, shaking your head. “Everything is–” You were cut off by a guttural roar from inside your apartment. You squeezed your eyes shut as a sob tore through you. “She said I’m not her mother… she’s right… so why does it hurt so much?”

“Hey, no one makes my Buttercup cry. Not even Little Wolf.” Wade stood up straight. “Stay put. I’ll handle this.” Wade waltzed inside before you could stop him. “HEY!” Wade shouted once he was sure the door was shut. Logan and Laura stopped their fighting immediately. Wade took in the apartment, noticing how your decorations and furniture were destroyed by claws and blood. “Well, well, well. Way to ruin my day, Peanut and Little Wolf. I was on my way over to see what was for dinner when I found my precious Buttercup sobbing in the hallway.” Logan and Laura’s eyes widened as they finally realized that you were no longer in the apartment. “You two assholes need to work this out, clean this mess up, and apologize. Until that happens, my sweet buttercup will be staying with me and Blind Al.”

“But–”

“Sorry, Peanut, no room for arguments. You assholes deal with this and I’ll handle Y/N.”

Spinning on his heel, Wade opened the apartment door. “Okay, Buttercup, we’re–” Wade stopped himself as he took in the empty hall. “Buttercup? Y/N?”

Logan and Laura rushed to the doorway as Wade stepped out to get a better look. Without a second thought, Logan and Laura both sniffed, taking in your smokey scent.

“This way,” Logan huffed, leading the group down the hall.

The group headed down the stairs of the apartment complex. The scent led them outside, where it had begun to rain. Both Logan and Laura stopped, taking in deep breaths through their nostrils.

“She’s gone,” Laura’s voice wobbled. “My mom’s gone.” Guilt was seeping into her soul. She had caused this and the words she said, she didn’t even mean. You were her mother, blood or not. You had taken care of her when she had no one– when you had no one. And now you were gone. “It’s all my fault.”

Logan knew he should have been the better person, Laura was still only a kid, but right now he was too concerned for your wellbeing. “You’re fucking right this is your fault.” Though he knew those words weren’t completely true. Ignoring the rain, Logan headed down in the direction he could only hope you could have gone.

“Do you smell her?” Laura jogged after him.

“No. But she shouldn’t be out alone.”

“Yay!” Wade clapped. “An old fashioned search party!”

“No. You two can stay here.”

“Ah, come on! It can be so much–”

Laura tripped Wade as he tried to follow after Logan. Logan’s strides became longer as he kept his eyes scanning for any sign of you. It was dark and rainy. Though Logan knew first hand you could take care of yourself, he was still scared for your safety. You weren’t okay. You were carrying a lot of anxiety and sorrow that you had been forced to carry it all yourself for years, slowly wearing you down to the breaking point that came tonight. Just like Logan’s original you, you weren’t a runner. This was something heartbreakingly new.

Logan also had a inclining that you were struggling more than you let on with being back in your original timeline in 2024, where you knew that a younger version of you and your original Logan were living at the mansion together. The TVA had made it very clear that if you intervened, there would be severe consequences. In the beginning, Logan didn’t think you would, now he wasn’t so sure. Would you risk it all for just a glimpse or one last interaction? 

Logan wandered through the rainy city until dawn, with no sign of you anywhere. Deciding he needed to get Wade and Laura in on this, Logan headed back to the apartment complex. He went to your apartment first, hoping that you were in there. He wasn’t surprised to see that the mess was cleaned up and new decorations and furniture sat in place of the ones he and Laura had destroyed. Logan figured Wade had helped Laura. 

With a sigh, Logan left the apartment and headed to the one he shared with Wade and Althea. When he entered, he found Wade in his Deadpool suit, loading his golden guns.

“Well, look who returned just in time,” Wade commented.

“What’s going on?” Logan asked, noticing that Laura was there as well.

“You really need to keep your phone on you, Peanut.”

“Just tell me what the fuck is going on.”

“The TVA took my mom,” Laura stated.

Logan’s head snapped in her direction as his stomach dropped. “What? Why?”

“She apparently got too close to her original timeline self.”

“So, we’re gearing up for a daring rescue,” Wade explained, pulling his mask over his face. “You in, Prince Charming?”

~~~

It had all happened by accident. You didn’t mean to. You were wandering aimlessly through the rainy streets, just trying to clear your head and to stop the flames that threatened to engulf you. 

How were you supposed to remember that you and Logan had gone on a date in the city on this night? To you, it was a long time ago and a lot of traumatic life events have happened since. You didn’t even see your original Logan and your younger self before the TVA agents appeared and you were standing in the middle of the TVA offices, on the catwalk. B-15 was standing before you.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” she told you. You could see that she truly meant it. “You got too close to your younger timeline self and Logan.”

“I didn’t mean to,” you said, on the verge of tears once again. “I didn’t know– didn’t remember.”

“I know, but it was a part of the deal you made to return to that timeline. I have already informed Wade and Laura of the mishap. You will be sent back to The Void.”

“Please don’t do this!” You shook your head. “I can’t go back there. I can’t leave Laura alone!”

“I am so sorry, Y/N.”

Before you could fight, a TVA agent was behind you and used a time stick to send you back into The Void. You landed in the middle of an empty field. You were on your knees already, making it easier for you to bury your head in your hands and cry. It had all become too much. Losing your original Logan. Taking care of Laura. Your powers failing you. Being sent to The Void the first time. You hadn’t taken care of yourself mentally or emotionally, and it was finally taking its toll. 

You had finally reached the breaking point of it all and you were now alone, and back in The Void. You could feel flames form on your back and your skin heating up. Pain radiated through you but you didn’t care. You didn’t have any more fight in you. After years and years of fighting, you were done. Maybe if you just curled up here, Alioth would find you and end your suffering once and for all. 

next chapter >

[writing-mlm]

Reddit Discovers a Relationship

Summary: Peter is acting strangely following a trip to Asgard and you, naturally, take to Reddit to get opinions from absolute strangers Pairing: Peter Parker x Gn!Reader Wc: 2k tags: readers gender is up to the viewer, mentions of cheating but nothing happens, reader is the adoptive child of Loki, this is formatted like a Reddit post LOL a/n: this came to me in a dream

r/AmItheAsshole 4d ago

throwRA-unclepleasedontseethis

AITA for being upset with my bf for being weird after we visited my family abroad?

Hii! Sorry if formatting and spelling is wrong, I’m on mobile. 

So, I (20nb) and my boyfriend (21m) met when we were both around 15, dating since we were 17. If it matters we met through my (adoptive) uncle: they sort of worked together but in the way that you work with Jane from Accounting. It’s a relatively small business so we did eventually cross paths, I don’t want to go into details for privacy's sake, sorry. If it’s confusing I’ll explain in an edit. 

EDIT: basically he’s the bosses intern-turned-employee, I’m the weird guy's brother's kid turned employee. He joined at 15, I ‘joined’ at 13, i’ve been there two years longer than him

So, recently I went to visit my dad in our home country for two weeks with my uncle and his maybe gf, naturally my bf, wanted to join. He wasn’t allowed to at first bc the last time we tried something similar to this he kind of died?? I’m not sure if the event is still triggering for people, but it was that global event where the population got… sanded?? EDIT: yes the blimp But after that I get nervous with him traveling around there, I know it’s not normal and he would be perfectly fine. It took a while but I eventually agreed that he could go. 

We get there without any hiccups and he sees my country for the first time, i literally have to drag him into my childhood home and let him set up a room. My dad wouldn’t let us sleep in the same room, he went to crazy lengths for that lol. But that was fine, it was only two weeks. Really a week and half. But we have a good time, he meets my old friends, I taught him some traditional cooking and such, we explored for a whole day. I literally took him flower picking and they're in our living room. He spends some time with my folks, some of which I was too busy for, my friends had dragged me out and one time no one woke me up. The last day we spent I literally did not see him at all, like at all. And one of my friends, I’ll call her Vivi, was gone too even though we all said we’d have a group picnic in the garden. 

Eventually, we leave back and he’s just… I don’t want to say ignoring me but he’s definitely distant. He’s hiding his phone (not that I check it, it’s just he got a screen blocker thing, he’s leaving it face down, and in the car, he stops all the notifications from coming through the speakers), he’s all sweaty around me, genuinely will not talk about the trip, he keeps asking if I’ve kept in touch with my friends and what they’ve said. 

Prior to this. he’d literally shove his phone in my face to show me videos or text his aunt if his hands are busy. I’ve heard his text messages between him and his friends where they talk about embarrassing topics like him peeing his pants bc he was drunk. He’s also not one to really sweat, he’s nervous a lot but it’s never like this. 

At work he’s asking to be paired with other people and my uncle keeps staring at him?? they talk in the corner a lot and my uncle cannot whisper for the life of him but he suddenly learned. 

I spoke to one of my friends, not the childhood friends but ones I made here, and they think he’s cheating. Idk, we’re never really apart for him to. We live and work together. We commute together. Our friend groups overlap a whole bunch to the point where I only have two friends that aren’t his friends and the same with him. The same friend said he’s always been off, she just never said anything bc I really like him. I’m cutting her off because even if she is right, that’s a weird thing to harbor right?? like if my friend had a shady bf I’d definitely let them know when I felt that. But maybe that’s an American thing, I don’t know. 

I asked him about it, I think three times. Each time he gets more nervous and I’ve decided I’m going to be the same way. His boss, who’s really just like a weird older brother or something to me, says I’m being petty and we need to grow up and talk. His wife says she did the same thing to him and the issue ended up being that he was going through major heart problems and she still feels bad about that. But i don’t think he’s having heart issues, our jobs need regular medical checkups and he’s his same healthy self. 

Am I going crazy? Should I ask again?

EDIT: he’s 21 and I’m 20 but we met when we were both 15 bc his birthday is earlier than mine is

——

WNDRGRL639 • 3d ago

NTA, i’m sorry sweets but it does sound like he cheated. That day where he was gone with ViVi for the whole day is suspicious, have you talked to her to see what she was doing?

-> throwRA-unclepleasedontseethis OP

Communication with people back home is difficult. They’re kind of the send a bird to deliver mail type, I can only talk to my dad when he’s in this specific area bc it has signal. It’s a portable device from over here. I don’t want to ask him to ask her because everyone is kind of… fearful of my dad but I don’t think she would do that. 

—> Holding_Space

why don’t you think she would?? also NTA 

—-> throwRA-unclepleasedontseethis OP

bc she’s only into women, sorry I forgot to add that detail I was in a rush 

JoyfulCalling629 • 4d ago

NTA, it’s frustrating when a partner doesn’t say what’s on their mind but give it time. could it have been something your uncle and dad said? are they too protective?

-> throwRA-unclepleasedontseethis OP

I wouldn’t put it past my dad but my uncle absolutely adores my bf, like even if we weren’t dating they’d still have the same relationship lol. but from what I noticed my dad does like my bf, he just comes off as scary to basically everyone 

—> Daylighthatings

NTA but it sounds like your bf wants to propose!! my wife was the same way leading up to the proposal 

—-> throwRA-unclepleasedontseethis OP

hmm. We’ve spoken about marriage for sure, so I know it’s something on his mind. I’m going to hope it’s that and not any of these crazy ideas lol. I saw someone say he’s planning on leaving me for my dad, that he’s cheating with my uncle, that i’ve probably scared him off bc my country must be scary. 

——> Daylighthatings

aw it’s certainly none of those, i’ve read through your other replies and the two of you seem absolutely smitten

fhendnsn79 • 2d ago

YTA, he probably gotten scared by your dad. keeping the two of you separate for two weeks? he has issues. not to mention you kept bringing up him dying! i’d want to break up too probably call the cops too

-> throwRA-unclepleasedontseethis OP

trust me when I say this, I have your address and I’m sending the IRS bc you have unfiled taxes since 2010 good luck in prison!!!!

—-

r/confessions 2d ago

u/spiderman

I asked my partners dad for the family ring and I’m planning to propose but they think I’m cheating on them 

Hii! First time posting, sorry if the formatting is wonky I’m on my phone. Throwaway bc my partner knows my main

Okay, so I (21m) and my partner (20nb), have been together for around 3 years and I knew I wanted to propose to them after they agreed to binge watch all of Star Trek with me even though they hate (and I mean HATE) most alien media because it’s inaccurate. They ended up enjoying it, but that’s not the point. 

Recently we visited their dad, after a lot of pestering they agreed to let me go and I was super nervous. It wasn’t my first time meeting their dad, maybe the third time but I was about to ask a man who could kill me in a second if I could get his family ring so I could marry his only child. I tried to tire them out, meeting with friends, taking me across a lot and I mean a lot of hills and such so I could also talk to their best friend alone. I’ll call her Ivvi. So, I didn’t have a lot of time and unfortunately had to spend the last day of the trip with Ivvi and their dad talking about traditional wedding stuff and how to properly propose (i didn’t even know there was a wrong way!!!) 

So, with all those expectations I’m super nervous. I have to hide my phone bc their uncle is sending me texts about it and he absolutely does not know how to speak in code. my aunt is the same way and I Don't want them to ruin it. I’m also so close to just blurting out the question so (we work at the same place) I’ve been avoiding them. Their uncle keeps pulling me away to ask when and it’s making me so nervous I can’t even think straight around them anymore. 

They’re starting to notice, not start they BEEN noticing but now they’re giving me the cold shoulder. I know this one friend they have, not Ivvi, it’s this one friend they met during college who I CANNOT stand bc she’s fake. They can’t see it because they tend to take things at face value when it comes to Americans because they think we don’t like to lie. I’ve been trying to tell them that it’s not true. But yeah. That friend spoke to one of my friends who asked me if I cheated and i, of course said no, and spilled my whole plan to her because if anyone could help, it would def be her. 

But I know that friend planted some evil seed in my partners head and now I have to rush my plans. 

I’ll update this after I propose tho!!!!

—

DjMightyThor • 2d ago

I just checked… this is Spiderman’s official Reddit. 

Xsavior • 2d ago

SPIDERMAN IS PROPOSING TO NORIDC???

MegannnHorsie • 1d ago

didn’t know they were that serious wow

Spideyfan4EVA • 2d ago

does he know he posted this to his main hopefully Nordic doesn’t see this LMFAOOO

—

r/BestofRedditorUpdates • 1 hr. ago

u/TonyStark

Clearly, I am not Nordic or Spiderman but they’re both too embarrassed to update. You’re welcome. 

Original post- Nordic

Original post- Spiderman

Thought I should update the people of Reddit on the kids proposal plans. I was unfortunately not there but I was fortunate enough to hack into the cameras in their apartment to see it. So, I’ll give a sort of play by play. 

Spiderman, in the living room with the place decorated in Asgardian stuff, rose petals everywhere and their favorite song in the background. He’s typing the Reddit story because he’s so nervous. 

Nordic, coming back from hanging with their friends, enters the apartment. Spiderman posts it without double checking ANYTHING. Chucks his phone into the kitchen sink somehow. 

Nordic walks inside and looks at the sink before looking at Spiderman. Ugly cries, a lot of tears. Like a lot. I asked (got permission to post) and apparently some of the items were from their since deceased family, so it was extra emotional. Spiderman, in full fucking Asgardian, asks Nordic to marry them. Oh it’s snotty tears now. Idk wtf he said, and Thor won’t translate, so…

There’s two rings!! The royal one and one from Nordic’s blood family. They kiss and fireworks!!! Joking, that’s a fire hazard. But he does immediately call Thor, who was in the room with Sam. I heard the tears from my office. They hang up and I’ll cut the rest of the footage bc I do not want to bleach my eyes thank you. 

—

spiderman • 1 hr. ago

MR STARK YOU DIDNT NEED TO PUT THE LAST PART 

-> throwRA-unclepleasedontseethis 

or any of this actually why are you in our cameras??

—> TonyStark  I made them.

[divinelyparkjimin]

— craving you [m] | jhs.

◦ summary ↠ getting involved with the mafia means trouble—and their dangerously sexy boss might just be the most tempting trouble of all.

◦ pairing ↠ hoseok x reader

◦ word count ↠ 6.4k

◦ genre ↠ smut, angst, fluff

◦ content warning(s) ↠ mafia au, dom!hoseok, sub!reader, suggestive/explicit content, dirty talk, penetrative sex, ejaculation, f. and m. orgasm, fingering, alcohol consumption, aggressive sex, oral sex, slave kink (?), face-fucking, deep-throating, unprotected sex

a/n: i'm back after ten years lol. hope you guys enjoy!

masterlist

You woke up with a pounding headache, your surroundings unfamiliar. Blinking against the dim light, you took in the room: a simple bed with worn but elegant dark wood, a matching desk, and a vanity. The furniture looked aged but still somehow charming, as though it had once belonged to someone with taste but had been neglected over the years.

The last thing you remembered was being out at a club with your friends. You’d had a bit too much to drink, and everything after that was a blur. Now here you were, in a strange room that felt too odd to belong to someone’s home.

You rubbed your temples, trying to piece things together, when the door creaked open. A boy with a ruffled bowl cut stepped in, his expression unreadable.

“Hoseok is waiting for you,” he said, his voice calm but firm.

Your brows knitted together. “Who?” you asked, sitting up on the bed. “Who are you? Where am I?”

For a moment, he looked just as confused as you felt, his lips parting as though to answer, but then he seemed to think better of it.

“I’m taking you to Hoseok,” he said instead, stepping further into the room. Before you could react, he grabbed your arm.

“Let go!” you barked, pulling against his grip, but he was much stronger than he looked.

“Am I a prisoner?” you snapped, glaring up at him.

“Somewhat,” he replied with a small chuckle, his tone so nonchalant it made your blood boil.

He dragged you out into a hallway, the floor creaking underfoot. The place was massive, the walls lined with intricate carvings and faded wallpaper. The air smelled faintly of wood polish and something musky, almost intoxicating. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling, their crystals catching the dim light and scattering it across the room like shards of broken glass.

“Where are we?” you demanded, but the boy—who still hadn’t given you his name—remained silent, leading you through the labyrinth of hallways until you entered a large sitting room.

There, lounging casually on a leather couch, was a man with an aura that immediately put you on edge. His sharp features were softened by a devilish smirk, and his eyes sparkled with amusement as he took in the sight of you being dragged in.

“Thanks, Jungkook,” the man said, addressing the boy who had brought you. “Hope she wasn’t too much trouble.”

Jungkook merely nodded, releasing your arm before stepping back.

“What am I doing here?” you demanded, your voice trembling despite your efforts to sound strong.

The man—Hoseok, you presumed—leaned back, crossing one leg over the other. He held a glass of red wine in one hand, swirling it lazily as he studied you.

You’re here because your little friend couldn’t keep their word. It’s that simple.” he said, his tone almost cheerful.

“That doesn’t explain why I’m involved,” you shot back.

He tilted his head, a mocking smile curling at the edges of his lips. “Oh, but it does. You see, they offered you as collateral. And who am I to turn down such a… lovely arrangement?”

You flinched at his words, anger bubbling in your chest. “You’re insane. I’m not some object you can just—”

“Hey,” he interrupted, his voice suddenly cold and commanding. The shift in his tone made you falter. "You’re here now, and you’ll stay until the debt is paid.”

You glared at him, refusing to back down even as your heart raced. “And what if I refuse?”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “You don’t really have a choice. But don’t worry—I’m not completely heartless. I take good care of what’s mine.”

He took a step closer, and you instinctively took a step back, bumping into the edge of the bed. “You’ll find it’s not so bad here,” he continued, his tone lightening. “You’ll be working directly under me. My personal attendant, you could say.”

“Attendant?” you repeated incredulously. “Yeah, right.”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic. I’m not that bad. In fact, I can be quite… generous.” He reached for a small box on the bedside table and tossed it to you. “Here, something for you to change into.”

You opened the box, your face flushing when you saw the contents: a skimpy, silk dress with lace trim that barely qualified as clothing.

“You’re joking,” you spat, glaring at him.

“Not at all,” he said, his smirk widening. “Jungkook will show you to the changing room.”

Jungkook escorted you to a room down the hall. Once inside, you reluctantly put on the dress, feeling both humiliated and strangely curious. Why was everything in this place so luxurious, so well-kept? It didn’t match the idea of being a prisoner.

When you emerged, Jungkook was waiting, his face immediately flushing red at the sight of you. He avoided your gaze, clearing his throat awkwardly before leading you back to Hoseok.

You were taken to a room, one that seemed to be Hoseok's. This was soon confirmed as Jungkook gripped the handle of the wooden door, swinging it open. He gave you a nod yet again, as if signaling you to enter. Your feet felt glued to the ground, your nerves unable to actually make a step forward into the mystery of a room.

Once you'd finally taken a peek into the room, you immediately took notice of Hoseok leaned casually against the edge of the bed, his gaze raking over you like a predator sizing up its prey. The dress clung to your figure, its delicate lace and silk leaving little to the imagination. You shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny, wishing you could disappear, but his dark, unreadable eyes pinned you in place.

“Well,” he drawled, his voice low and smooth, “you look even better than I expected. Perfect, actually.” The door shut behind you, and your heart pounded harder within you.

You crossed your arms over your chest, glaring at him despite the heat rising to your cheeks. “If you think I’m going to play along with this, you’re delusional,” you snapped.

He smirked, amused by your defiance. "Oh, sweetheart, you can play hard to get all you like. It only makes this more interesting for me."

Your breath hitched as he pushed off the bed and closed the distance between you in a few strides. His presence was overwhelming, the scent of his cologne wrapping around you like a haze. When he stopped just shy of touching you, you felt the heat radiating from him, your pulse quickening despite yourself.

His eyes softened for a brief moment, though his smirk remained. “You know,” he murmured, his tone soft yet dangerous, "I could have given you to one of my men. But I chose you for myself. That should tell you something."

Your lips parted to respond, but the intensity of his gaze stole your words. He tilted his head, waiting, and then leaned in just enough to brush his fingers against your arm. The featherlight touch sent an unwanted shiver through your body, and you hated the way he noticed.

“I chose you because I always get what I want,” he said, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “And right now, I want you.” He took your chin between his fingers, tilting your face up so you had no choice but to meet his eyes.

The way he looked at you made your knees weak, and you hated how much your body betrayed you. You wanted to hate him, to push him away, but the magnetic pull between you was undeniable.

"Get over yourself," you managed to say, though your voice lacked conviction.

He laughed, a deep, rich sound that sent shivers down your spine. "You're adorable when you try to act tough," he said, releasing your chin and stepping back. "But we'll see how long that lasts."

He walked to a small cabinet and poured himself another glass of wine, the muscles in his back flexing as he moved. "You look tense," he remarked, turning back to you with a wicked grin. "Would you like me to help you relax?"

Your cheeks burned at the implication, and you turned your head away. "I’d rather die," you muttered.

He stalked back to you, setting the wine glass down on the bedside table. "Don’t tempt me, darling," he whispered, his voice laced with dark humor. "I might take you up on that offer."

Before you could retort, he leaned in close, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. "But I’d rather hear you beg for something else entirely."

Your breath hitched, and you felt his smirk against your skin. He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his own dark and unreadable. "Now, be a good girl and get some rest," he said, his tone suddenly lighter. "You’ll need your energy for tomorrow."

He turned away, heading toward the bathroom, but not before throwing a final, teasing glance over his shoulder. "Unless, of course, you’d like to share my bed tonight. I promise, I don’t bite... unless you ask me to."

The door closed behind him, leaving you alone with your racing thoughts and a pounding heart. You hated how much his presence affected you, how much his teasing had stirred something deep within you.

The room was quiet after Hoseok left, the weight of his words lingering in the air. You sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the door he had disappeared through. Your pulse still raced, a mix of fear, anger, and something you didn’t want to name swirling inside you.

A soft knock broke the silence. You stiffened, your heart leaping to your throat. The door creaked open, and Jungkook stepped inside, carrying a tray of food. His expression was softer now, a hint of guilt shadowing his face as he set the tray down on the small table near the bed.

“I thought you might be hungry,” he said, his voice low.

You eyed him warily. “What’s this? Poison?”

Jungkook flinched, his lips pressing into a thin line. “It’s not poisoned,” he murmured. “Just eat."

You crossed your arms, still glaring at him. “Why are you doing this? Why are you helping him?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not that simple,” he said, his tone tinged with frustration. “Hoseok… he’s not as bad as he seems.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Not as bad as he seems? He just told me I’m his collateral. What part of that isn’t bad?”

Jungkook hesitated, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “I know how it looks, but… he has his reasons. He doesn’t hurt people unless they deserve it. And trust me, the people he deals with usually do.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “Yeah, because kidnapping innocent people is so noble.”

He winced again, looking genuinely remorseful. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “For what it’s worth, I didn’t agree with this. But once Hoseok makes up his mind…” He trailed off, his gaze dropping to the floor.

“Why are you telling me this?” you asked, softening slightly at his sincerity.

He looked back at you, his dark eyes earnest. “Because you’re not just some pawn to him. If you were, you wouldn’t be here, in his personal quarters. He… he sees something in you.”

You frowned, unsure how to respond. Before you could ask anything else, Jungkook turned toward the door. “Just… try to eat,” he said over his shoulder before leaving you alone again.

You stared at the tray of food for a moment before reluctantly picking up a piece of bread. It smelled fresh, and your stomach growled in betrayal. As you ate, your thoughts churned, trying to make sense of everything.

The door creaked open again, and you looked up to see Hoseok stepping inside, now dressed in silk pajamas that hung loosely on his frame. They were matching to your own, something that you audibly scoffed at. He looked relaxed, his earlier edge dulled by the casual attire.

“Enjoying the food?” he asked, his tone teasing.

You glared at him, though the corners of your mouth twitched. “As much as someone in my situation can.”

He chuckled, closing the door behind him. “Fair enough. But I hope you don’t think I’m completely heartless.” He gestured toward a couch on the far side of the room. “I’ll take that tonight. You can have the bed.” The couch dominated one corner of the room, its size nearly rivaling the bed itself. It was upholstered in deep, rich velvet, the kind that looked invitingly soft to the touch, with intricate stitching along the edges. The cushions were plush and overstuffed, creating a luxurious sprawl that promised comfort beyond reason.

You blinked in surprise. “What? No more threats or innuendos?”

He smirked, crossing his arms. “I’m full of surprises, darling. But even I need to sleep.”

You tilted your head, studying him. “So all that earlier? It was just bluffing?”

His smirk faltered for a moment, replaced by a flash of something that looked like amusement—or perhaps respect. “You’re braver than I gave you credit for,” he admitted, walking toward the couch. “But don’t push your luck.”

You laughed softly, more at the absurdity of the situation than anything else. “Goodnight, then.”

“Goodnight,” he replied, settling onto the couch. Despite his earlier bravado, he didn’t seem the least bit uncomfortable, draping an arm over the backrest as he reclined.

You climbed into the bed, sinking into its softness. As your head hit the pillow, you felt a strange sense of calm, even in the midst of the chaos. Hoseok’s presence, infuriating as it was, didn’t feel as threatening now.

The next day, Hoseok kept you busy. As promised—or threatened—you shadowed him as his personal attendant, though most of the tasks were menial. You were getting a glimpse of the operation he seemed to run: shadowy meetings, coded phone calls, and a surprising amount of charm that he wielded like a weapon.

Late in the afternoon, Hoseok asked Jungkook to bring you something from another room, leaving you alone for a moment. It was then that you felt someone’s gaze on you. A man with sharp eyes and a cruel grin approached, his steps deliberate. He was dressed in black, and his aura screamed trouble.

“Well, well,” the stranger purred, his voice smooth but unsettling. “Hoseok’s latest… acquisition. He always did have good taste.”

You tensed, instinctively stepping back. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Oh, but I think you do,” he said, circling you like a predator sizing up its prey. “You’re new here. That makes you vulnerable. And that means... I could help you, for the right price.”

Your stomach turned as he moved closer, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your face. You slapped it away, glaring. “Don’t touch me.” The man slipped a hand into his pocket, pulling out a pocket knife, to which you flinched at the sight of.

The man’s smile only widened, as though your defiance amused him. “Feisty. I like that.”

Before he could say more, a voice rang out, cold and cutting. “Step away from her. Now.”

You turned to see Hoseok standing a few feet away, his face devoid of its usual playful smirk. His eyes burned with barely contained fury, his posture tense.

The man raised his hands in mock surrender. “Relax, boss. I was just saying hello.”

“Your greetings are unwelcome,” Hoseok snapped, his tone lethal. “Touch her again, and I’ll make sure it’s the last thing you ever do.”

The dealer’s grin faltered for the briefest moment before he backed away. “No harm done,” he said, retreating with an air of false nonchalance.

Once he was gone, Hoseok turned to you, his expression softening slightly. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice low.

You nodded, though your hands were trembling. “Yeah. I… I’m fine.” He stepped closer, his hand hovering near your arm as though debating whether to touch you.

For a moment, you saw something in his eyes—a flicker of genuine concern that sent your heart racing. You muttered a quiet “Thank you,” but he only nodded and turned away, leaving you with an unsettling mix of emotions.

As days turned into weeks, you found yourself increasingly drawn to Hoseok. His care for you, however begrudging it seemed at times, was impossible to ignore. He wasn’t the monster you’d initially pegged him as—he could be cruel, yes, but also fiercely protective and surprisingly thoughtful.

One evening, you had found Hoseok seated at his desk, staring at the reports before him. His fingers run through his hair in frustration. Another failed deal. Another betrayal. The day's losses have piled up, and he’s feeling the weight of it all. Normally, he could compartmentalize—keep his emotions in check, maintain control. But today, seemed like you were seeing an entirely different side of him.

The door creaked open. He didn't even need to look up; he knew who it is. You.

You'd been working with him for a while now—part of his inner circle, trusted, competent, but not someone he’d let too close emotionally. Until recently, things had changed. Maybe it was the way you always knew when something was off with him, when his temper was too short, when the pressure was mounting. Maybe it was the way you didn’t flinch when the violence around him got too real. Or maybe, just maybe, it was because, in your quiet moments together, you saw through the ice and stone he built around himself.

Today, you found him in a rare vulnerable state. His usual composure seemed to be gone—he was leaning back in his chair, staring at the ceiling, looking lost.

"You okay?" you asked softly, standing in the doorway. He didn't respond immediately. The tension in the air was palpable. You were used to the cold, dangerous version of him. But this... this was different.

He finally glanced up at you, his gaze heavy. "No," he muttered, the word hanging in the air between you. "It’s been a long day."

You stepped closer, your presence a silent offer of comfort, a safe place amidst the chaos. The silence stretched, but was not uncomfortable—just heavy. The unspoken understanding between the two of you had always been there, but now, it was almost as if it was pulling you closer.

He stood up abruptly, pushing the chair back, his usual sharp movements somehow slowed, drained. "I don’t need sympathy," he muttered, his voice rough, like he was holding something back. "I just need… something to take the edge off."

For a moment, you don’t move. You could feel the weight of his words. The tension between you both was unbearable—too close, too intimate, a fine line you’d never crossed before. And yet, there was no turning back.

You take a step toward him, standing just within arm's reach. The air between you crackled with tension. Without thinking, you lifted your hand, brushing his jaw lightly, feeling the softness of his skin beneath your fingertips.

Hoseok’s breath hitched, and for a split second, the hardness in his expression softened. He reached up, his fingers brushing against your wrist, guiding your hand down gently until it rested against his chest. You could feel the rapid beat of his heart beneath your fingertips, the tension, the frustration still lingering in his veins. He was holding himself back, but for how much longer?

"Are you sure about this?" he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. His lips were dangerously close to yours, and you could feel the pull between you.

You didn’t answer with words. Instead, you closed the distance, your lips brushing his in a soft, tentative kiss. The kind of kiss that said more than words ever could.

Without breaking the kiss, he moved his hands under your thighs, firmly guiding you into his lap. You could feel the weight of his body, the tension in every muscle, and the way his hands tightened around you.

His hands traced over your body with a mixture of reverence and possessiveness, moving to the buttons of your shirt. "You really think you can tease me like that?" His voice was low, laced with a playful challenge. His hands paused for a moment on your waist before undoing the buttons, pulling the fabric open just enough to expose the soft skin beneath.

"You’re not wearing a bra?" he teased, a grin tugging at his lips as he met your gaze. His hands roamed more freely now, his touch confident, leaving trails of warmth in their wake. "You’re full of surprises." He let his fingers skim over the soft skin of your breasts, the touch light but filled with intention. You let out small, soft moans with each graze.

The soft touches soon turned rougher as both of his hands were put to work, one on each of your breasts. He began fondling them, an expression of delight evident on his face.

"Fuck, who knew my little assistant had such beautiful tits?" He praised, his fingers beginning to twist around your nipples. The tingly sensations caused higher-pitched moans to escape your mouth, your hands gripping harder around his toned arms for stability.

You didn’t respond, allowing your breath to catch in your throat as you felt the heat radiating off him. You grinded your body against his, feeling his hard member under you. It tickled you, teasing you before it even got the chance to make an appearance.

He smirked, noticing the effect he had on you. "You really think you can just walk in here, all innocent, and not expect me to notice?" His lips brushed against yours as his hands roamed to your waist, pulling you closer still. "I don’t think you realize just how much trouble you’re in."

You met his teasing gaze with your own challenge, teasing him with a smile. "Maybe I like trouble," you moaned breathily. Your fingers grazed his chest, unbuttoning his shirt slowly, feeling the muscles beneath the fabric.

You tore it off of him, gliding your hands along his chest. Your hands lowered to his belt, tugging on it a bit. Your lips continued to reconnect, hands roaming along one another until Hoseok finally picked you up off of him. The two of you were now standing up, still practically devouring each other's faces. You took turns sucking each other's tongues, your pulse quickening by the second.

His lips brushed against yours once more, and as he deepened the kiss, you felt his hands move to the waistband of your pants, his fingers tentative at first, as if asking for permission. You nodded and not even a second after he grasped the waistband of your pants and pulled you closer, effortlessly tugging them down. The movement was quick, decisive, leaving no room for hesitation.

Your hands moved to his belt, unbuckling it with an eager, but controlled urgency. The space between you was shrinking, the intensity of his touch making everything else feel distant. You slid out of your own bottoms, now standing before him in only the barest of clothing.

As the kiss broke, Hoseok’s eyes lingered on you, intense but with a hint of mischief. He gave you a slight smirk, his hands sliding down to your hips as he guided you toward the bed.

With a gentle but firm push, he helped you sit down, the bed soft beneath you. He stood before you for a moment, eyes flicking over your body, his chest rising and falling as he took in the sight of you. Then, with a quiet, almost teasing chuckle, he knelt in front of you.

“You won't be needing these anymore, right?” His gaze directed at your lace panties. His voice was low, a playful edge in his words. His fingers slid to the waistband of the garment pulling them down with a slow, deliberate motion.

You shivered slightly as he discarded them, his gaze never leaving you. He stood again, his movements still confident and purposeful.

"Why don't you help me with this Y/N? You are my personal attendant." His hands cupped over yours, bringing them to the waistband of his boxers.

"Fuck, I'd love to." You said, your voice low and filled with longing, as you leaned closer. Slowly, you pulled them down, your breath catching as you were met with a surprising warmth and firmness.

His length was better than you could've imagined, its tip glossed with pre-cum. You admired it, every vein and crinkle of flesh. Your hand reached out to touch it before Hoseok interrupted you with an eyebrow raised, smirking with that dangerous grin of his.

“Getting eager, aren’t we?” His voice was low, almost a growl as you nodded impatiently. He didn't let you continue as his hands quickly found your hips, giving you a firm pull as he hoisted you up. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, giving you immediate tingles from the direct skin contact.

Before you knew it, you were pressed against the wall, your back against the cool surface, but Hoseok's body was anything but cold. He gaze lowered as he positioned himself to enter you, before looking back up at you to assure your readiness. You nodded, biting your lip seductively in anticipation.

As soon as he got your approval, he roughly thrusted himself into you. You could feel him forcing your tight walls open, folds rubbing against the soft skin of his shaft. Your quiet exhales grew in volume, before forming into full-fletched moans.

Your body naturally moved with the rhythm of his, bouncing on his hard cock to increase the roughness of each thrust.

As the intensity of his movements grew, so did the volume of your moans. Your hands instinctively wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer as your lips met in a fierce, passionate kiss. The sensation of his tongue dancing with yours only added to the overwhelming pleasure that was building inside you.

Hoseok's grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging deep into your skin as he continued to drive into you with unrelenting force. The sound of your bodies colliding echoed through the room, a rhythmic slap of skin on skin that seemed to match the pounding of your heart.

Your back scraped against the wall with each thrust, but you didn't care - the pain was a distant second to the pleasure that was consuming you. You felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your muscles tensing in anticipation of the release that was to come.

Hoseok's eyes locked onto yours, his gaze burning with an intense desire as he watched you unravel beneath him. His movements became more frantic, his thrusts shorter and more rapid as he chased his own climax. You could feel his cock swelling inside you, the pressure building until it became almost unbearable.

As Hoseok's eyes burned into yours, his voice dropped to a low, husky growl. "You're mine now," he whispered, his words sending shivers down your spine. "You're mine to use, mine to fuck, mine to play with.”

"I always was, wasn't I?" you replied, your voice barely above a whisper, but laced with a hint of defiance. You tried to sound brave, but your voice trembled slightly, betraying your true feelings. Hoseok's eyes flashed with excitement, his gaze burning with an intense desire, as he took in your response. He seemed to like the fact that you were standing up to him, even if it was just a little bit.

Hoseok's eyes never left yours as he took a step closer, his body towering over yours. You could feel the heat emanating from him, and your skin prickled with awareness as he reached out and grasped your hips. His hands were like grips, holding you in place, as he pulled you into him. You felt a rush of excitement as your bodies touched, and you knew that you were in for a wild ride.

He spun you around, pinning you onto the bed, his body covering yours as he gazed down at you with an unyielding intensity. His hand slid between your legs, stroking your inner thighs, and you felt a shiver run down your spine as he touched you. His touch was gentle, yet firm, and you couldn't help but moan as he began to explore your body. You felt yourself getting wetter, your body responding almost immediately to his touch.

"How many can you take?" he whispered, his voice low and husky, as he slowly inserted one finger into you. You gasped, your body arching into his touch, and he smiled, his eyes glinting with excitement. "Two?" he asked, his voice dripping with anticipation, as he slid another finger into you. You felt yourself stretching, accommodating his fingers, and you couldn't help but moan as he began to move them in and out of you. His touch was gentle, yet firm, and you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.

As he fingered you, his other hand began to rub your pussy, a pair of two fingers applying gentle pressure to your clit. You felt yourself trembling, and you knew you were on the verge of something explosive. His fingers quickened in pace, stroking your inner walls, and you felt a sense of pleasure that you had never experienced before. You were so caught up in the moment, so lost in the sensation of his touch, that you didn't even notice when he added a third finger.

Your body coiled with anticipation in response to the overwhelming feelings of pleasure that were coming over you. His touch was like magic, weaving a spell of pleasure around you, and you knew that you were powerless to resist. You felt yourself trembling, your body shaking with pleasure, as he brought you to the brink of orgasm. And then, just as suddenly as it had started, everything stopped. Hoseok's fingers stilled, his hand ceasing its gentle rubbing, and you were left feeling frustrated and unsatisfied.

Hoseok's fingers slowly slid out of you, and he brought them to his lips, tasting the wetness that coated them. His eyes locked onto yours, a spark of desire igniting within their depths. With a gentle smile, he leaned forward, his mouth descending onto your sex.

His tongue dragged along your folds, tracing a slow path of sensation that left you breathless. As he reached the apex of your thighs, his tongue swirled around your clit, sending shivers coursing through your body. The pressure was building inside you, and you could feel yourself tightening with each passing moment.

The sight of him between your thighs was a lovely one, a position you never expected to find yourself in, despite the growing lustful thoughts you seemed to have for him. He kept his tongue extended, bobbing his head in a gentle rhythm as he licked you.

The sensation was intoxicating – the soft lapping of his tongue against your sensitive flesh sent waves crashing through your body. You felt yourself melting into the touch, your hips rising to meet the

Suddenly, Hoseok's mouth closed around your clit, suctioning onto it with a gentle yet firm pressure. You moaned out loudly as the sensation washed over you – the suction sending sparks flying through your nerves. Hoseok's response was to suck harder, his mouth closing tighter around your clit as he drew on it with increasing intensity.

The sound that escaped your lips was almost primal – a raw expression of pleasure that echoed through the room. Your body arched upwards, pushing against Hoseok's mouth as you sought more contact. The suction grew stronger still, until finally you felt yourself reaching the edge of climax.

As you crested over the peak and began to tumble down the other side, Hoseok slowly released his suction on your clit. His chest rose and fell with ragged breathing as he gazed up at you with eyes that burned with desire.

"Touch me," he whispered urgently. His voice was low and husky, and you knew exactly what he meant. "Didn't forget about pleasing your master, right?" he asked, his tone dripping with expectation and a hint of warning.

"Of course not, master," you replied, trying to sound calm despite the excitement building inside you.

"Good girl." He smiled, a small, satisfied smile. You reached down, your hand wrapping around his cock, and he let out a low growl of pleasure. His eyes seemed to burn with an inner fire as he gazed at you, his pupils dilating with desire. As you held him in your hand, you could feel his cock growing harder and thicker, the veins standing out in stark relief. The skin was smooth and hot to the touch, like silk wrapped around steel.

You smiled to yourself as you began to stroke him, your hand moving up and down the length of his cock in slow, teasing motions. You took your time, savoring the sensation of having him in your hand. Your fingers explored every inch of him, tracing the curves and ridges of his cock. You could feel the pulse beating within him, a rhythmic throbbing that seemed to match the beat of your own heart. As you stroked him, Hoseok's breathing grew heavier, his chest rising and falling with ragged gasps.

After a few moments of stroking him, you leaned forward, your mouth opening to take him in. Your lips wrapped around the head of his cock, and he let out a hiss of pleasure as you began to suck him.

His hands tightened around your head, holding you in place as he began to thrust his hips upwards, fucking your mouth with slow, deliberate strokes. His breathing grew more ragged, his chest heaving with excitement, and his voice dropped to a low, husky growl. The sensation was almost overwhelming - the taste of him filled your mouth, rich and earthy and utterly masculine.

"Fuck!" he exclaimed, his words torn from his throat as he felt himself getting closer to the edge. "My slut is so good," he panted, his hands gripping your head tighter as he pulled you down further onto his cock. "You're so fucking perfect, you know that?" He thrusted deeper into your mouth, his hips jerking upwards.

You couldn't respond with words, but your expression said it all - you were his, completely and utterly, and you loved every moment of it. Your gaze was filled with a mixture of adoration and submission, your eyes sparkling with a hint of excitement and pleasure.

"You like sucking my cock, don't you?" he growled. "You like feeling me deep in your throat." He thrusted his hips upwards, even harder than before, pushing himself deeper into your mouth. "Take it all," he ordered. "Take every inch of my cock, princess." His words were like fuel on a fire, making you burn hotter with every passing moment.

Each thrust was like a wave crashing over you, basking in the feelings of bliss. Your mouth was stretched wide around him, but you couldn't help feeling a thrill of excitement at the way he was using you. The sensation was almost too much to bear, you couldn't help but crave for more.

Despite the pleasure that was building inside him, Hoseok's patience soon wore thin. He pulled his cock out of your mouth and grabbed your shoulders, pinning you back down onto the bed. His eyes blazed with need as he gazed at you, his face twisted with desire.

"I need you right now." he growled, his voice rough. You felt a sense of power, knowing that you had the ability to make him feel this way, and you reveled in it. In a swift movement, he flipped you onto your back and settled between your legs, his cock nudging against the entrance to your sex. His eyes locked onto yours, burning with an inner fire that seemed to burn brighter with every passing moment.

"You're mine," he whispered urgently as he pushed himself inside you. "Every inch of this body belongs to me." His words were like thunder in the background. Maybe it was wrong, maybe it was shameful, but all you could think about was the need to be used by him, to feel him deep inside you, to let go of everything and just give in to his desire.

Hoseok’s hand began blocking your head from banging against the headboard as he began to fuck you with a ferocity that left you breathless. The room was filled with the sound of your bodies colliding, the slap of skin on skin, and the heavy breathing that accompanied it. It was a primal, animalistic sound, and it only added to the excitement that was building between you. You felt yourself getting lost in the moment, lost in the sensation of his touch.

As you approached the edge, Hoseok's thrusts became faster and harder, his body pounding into yours with all his might. You couldn’t seem to contain the feelings of pleasure that spread throughout your body. And then, in a moment of pure ecstasy, you came, your body exploding into a thousand pieces as Hoseok's cock pulsed inside you.

His hand held your head in place, his fingers tangled in your hair, as he watched you come apart beneath him. Your body vibrated with the aftershocks of your orgasm, as you felt the warm liquid fill you up, his cum spilling into you like a gentle flood. It was a sensation that was both comforting and exhilarating, as if his very essence was merging with yours. You felt his warmth spreading through you, a soothing balm that calmed your trembling muscles and left you feeling languid and relaxed.

As you lay there, embracing the glow of your orgasm, Hoseok's expression softened, his eyes filling with a deep affection. He caressed your face, his fingers tracing the curves of your cheeks and the line of your jaw, his touch gentle and soothing. He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, sweet kiss, and you felt your heart melt at the tenderness of the gesture.

For a moment, you two of you simply laid there, wrapped in each other's arms, the only sound being the gentle rhythm of your breathing. Then, Hoseok's face broke into a cheeky grin, one that you knew came with nothing but mischief.

“Wanna go again?”

a/n: hi, thank you for reading! let me know guys what you think and feel free to request something new <3

masterlist

[jjscrybaby]

A request for JJ!!

I was thinking something kinda angst. So JJ hates the reader and she hates him. They both think each other has a great life and is jealous. But maybe one day on her usual bike ride around the cut, y/n sees JJ’s dad get aggressive with him and realises how JJ’s life is hard. But she doesn’t go to help because she was scared. Feeling bad that she didn’t help she wonders around and she goes home late which results in an argument with her mom. At that time JJ was doing a delivery with Pope and hears and sees everything and when y/n is outside walking around trying to calm herself down and distract from the pain she accidentally bumps into JJ and they have a talk.

jj maybank x fem!reader | hurt & comfort | (luke maybank being an ass, reader’s mom is also an ass, overall just bad parents!)

not proofread and written at 6am so my bad if there’s any mistakes 🤗

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

One of the main differences between you and JJ were your social status’. JJ came from the Cut, he grew up catching his own food, roaming the streets at the age of seven without a care in the world, stealing just to get by. You grew up on Figure Eight, you never had to lift a finger, your parents never had to worry about where their next pay check was coming from. He was jealous.

JJ grew up with freedom, with a group of friends he called his family, he never had to worry about grades or being perfect because no one cared if he was. You grew up with snobby rich kids as the only people you could hang out with, your mom dictated everything you did down to the clothes you’d wear to the mall, you felt embarrassed to even leave the house if your hair was slightly greasy. You were jealous.

You’d known JJ Maybank since you were a kid, you went to the same Elementary school and then over the years you’d see each other at parties or at the club where he worked. There wasn’t ever something that happened that gave you both a reason to hate the other, you just did.

Something your parents were definitely not aware of was the route you’d take on your weekly bike ride. You needed an escape from the ‘perfect’ life, so at least once a week you’d take your little pink bicycle and you’d ride around the Cut. You weren’t sure what it was that drew you to it in the first place, especially after the horror stories you’d grown up hearing, but you always felt calm when you rode around with your AirPods in.

It was about six o’clock, you were supposed to be home for dinner in an hour because your father had some clients coming over and you were wanted as well. You were about to head back home when the sound of yelling caught your attention. You turned round the corner, standing still at the end of the street.

“You smell like a damn bar!” It was JJ. You didn’t know he lived here, but then again why would you? You weren’t friends. There was an older man stumbling after him, following the blonde down the porch steps.

“Ain’t that rich comin’ from you?” The man, who you assumed was non other than Luke Maybank, snorted.

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” JJ scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he turned to look at his dad.

“Means you ain’t better than me, kid. It’s in your blood, you’re a Maybank,” Luke mocked.

You could see JJ shake his head, a scowl on his face that was hiding the hurt he felt. “I’m nothin’ like you. And I never will be.”

“Say whatever you want, don’t make it true,” Luke shrugged, taking a sip from the beer that you hadn’t noticed was in his hand. “Where the fuck you goin’, anyways? Ain’t been home in weeks.”

Weeks? You had heard the stories about Luke, the robberies and the bar fights, but you didn’t think he’d treat his own son like this. He spoke to him as if he was a stranger, as if he couldn’t care less about him.

“Yeah, and I shouldn’t have bothered coming back at all,” JJ stated, turning to continue walking away. Luke grabbed his arm, yanking him back and holding him in place. “Get the fuck off me, man!”

“Gotta show some respect, Jay!” Luke yelled, making you flinch.

Why were the neighbours not coming out? Why hadn’t anyone done something about this? You felt sick, and you felt even worse when you got on your bike and rode away before you had to see how this ended.

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

“You alright?” JJ hated that question, especially when he knew why it was being asked. The shiner that he sported now. Pope looked at him sympathetically, a sad smile on his face.

“I’m fine. Ready to get some good tips,” JJ shrugged, taking the grocery bags from his hands. “Who orders food at eight o’clock?”

“Rich people,” Pope muttered. “Don’t lose any of that shit.“

“Yeah, yeah.”

JJ walked to your house, he knew it was yours from the last name above the slip of paper Pope had given him. He was starting to walk up the driveway when he heard the noise coming from the open front door.

“I told you to be here by seven! It’s half past!” Your mother exclaimed, throwing her arms in the air.

“I— I got held up, I’m sorry.” He’d never heard you sound so small. Usually, when the two of you got at each other’s throats at a Kegger, you’d stand your ground without a care in the world. It was one of the only things he respected about you.

“Held up with what?” Your mom scoffed. He could see through the cracks in the bushes that she was shaking her head, looking disappointed.

“It’s just dinner, mom. I don’t need to be here,” you tried to argue.

“Well, I’ve already told the Henderson’s that you aren’t home. So, therefore, you will not be home. Don’t come back until they’re gone,” she stated.

“What? Mom. I haven’t got anywhere to go,” you exclaimed, voice wavering.

The door closed in your face and you let out a shaky sigh. You’d been preoccupied, feeling guilty for not sticking up for JJ, so you’d gotten home a little later than planned. Was it really that big of a deal? Tears fell as you wandered back down your driveway, trying to think of where the hell you can go.

“Uh, hey.” You flinched in shock, turning to see JJ lurking by the bushes with two grocery bags.

“What’re you doing here?” You asked quietly.

“Delivery,” he explained.

“Right, well, I can’t take it,” you muttered. “Just go knock.”

“Wait there.” You weren’t sure why you did what he said, but it wasn’t like you had anything better to do. You stood and waited, watching as he left the bags on your front door step and knocked before coming back; he didn’t even wait for a tip. “C’mon.”

The two of you walked through Figure Eight in silence, him puffing on his vape every now and then whilst you tried not to burst into tears. “I saw you and your dad, earlier.”

“What?” He turned to look at you in confusion.

“Outside your house.”

“Why were you outside my house?” He asked.

“I wasn’t, I just happened to be going past,” you explained. You bit your nails before speaking again, letting out a quiet sigh. “He’s an ass.”

Surprisingly, JJ let out a chuckle. He nodded his head. “Yeah, he is. So is your mom.” You giggled, agreeing with him. “Guess we both have shitty parents, huh?”

“Seems like it,” you shrugged. “Never thought we’d have something in common.”

“You know, my friend, John B, his house is sorta the hangout for kids with shitty parents. Did you want to… you could come over, until you can go back home,” JJ offered. He sounded anxious, as if he was asking you on a date.

You found yourself nodding your head, shyly smiling at him. “Yeah, just until I can go back home.”

You didn’t go home, instead you spent the night chatting shit about your mom with JJ whilst he rambled about his dad. You ended the night in his bed, laid on his chest as the two of you shared a joint. You didn’t feel so jealous anymore, and you were certain he didn’t either.

[boybandbaby]

I Wish Part 2 (Evan Buckley x 118!Reader)

warnings: fire, injuries, angst (aftermath of a breakup) then fluff (getting back together), idk reader gives in kinda easy but I would too for Evan Buckley

Part 1

Buck doesn’t know what happened. One minute you’re his girlfriend and the next you’re both just coworkers. One second you’re working side by side with him venting the roof and the next you’re both falling through several floors until you hit a hard surface with a thud.

You roll onto your right side and groan loudly. Theres an ache in your left side where your hands fly to assess the damage. Buck is out cold, body sprawled amongst some debris. There isn’t much fire around you as the fire originated several floors up. There’s some smoke and it’s dark but you figure if you can get Buck to wake up and move, you have a chance at getting out.

You can hear Cap’s voice on your radio asking for a status on you and Buck. You press the button and call out what happened and where you believe you are. While you’re informing the team of Buck’s condition, you feel yourself choke on your words. You’re not sure if it’s the smoke invading your throat or the thought that Buck is seriously injured but a lump forms in your throat and tears well up in your eyes. He’s not moving, it’s hard to see his chest rising and falling through the darkness and helmet, and he’s not waking with your harsh shakes to his chest.

You’re honestly not even sure if the message got sent out as you don’t get a response. You slump next to him and rest there for a few seconds trying to gather your thoughts and create a plan. You’re trying to focus on slowing your breathing otherwise you’re going to start a full on panic attack. You shut your eyes and attempt to ground yourself.

-

“You broke up with her? I thought things were going really well.” Maddie sighs, sipping on her glass of wine.

“They were but the last couple of weeks, we were just fighting a lot. It was getting overwhelming.” Buck has both hands on the counter, his head hung between his arms.

“Aren’t these the same things we’ve all been saying to you for the past couple of years? That you need to think about your actions. Slow down a bit.” She finishes her glass and pushes the cup towards Buck.

“I guess I just didn’t want her to think the same things. I wanted her to see me as this great guy both at work and in our relationship but she sees me as someone who always makes mistakes. I just fuck everything up.” Buck pours some wine into the glass before taking a swig straight from the bottle.

“Did she say that?” Maddie takes her glass back.

“Not exactly but it was close enough.” Buck shrugs. “I have to bake something.” He turns to start looking through the cabinets.

“I think you should really try talking to her.” Maddie rounds the counter and places a hand on her brother’s arm. “She’s the first person you’ve dated that reciprocates and matches your energy. She’s eager to be in your life and meet your friends and family. I think that’s says a lot about how much she cares for you.”

“I mean it doesn’t matter now. I was a jerk and she’ll never forgive me.” Buck closes his eyes. He doesn’t want Maddie to see him cry.

“Do you think maybe you broke things off with her because you’re scared of being broken up with first?”

-

“Hey, how are you doing?” Hen closes the last button on her shirt and makes her way up the stairs. You’re sitting on the couch, staring at the tv. Nothing is playing.

“I’m fine. How are you?” You ask, not meeting her eyes.

“How are you holding up?” She sits beside you, patting your knee. It’s been a few days since Buck broke up with you. Your anniversary or what would have been has since passed. Reservations canceled, outfits stuffed in the back of the closest, and gifts hidden in the back in sock drawers.

“Who told you?” You inquire with an edge to your voice.

“Buck told Maddie. Maddie told Chim and Chim told me.”

“So everyone knows?”

“I’m sure Buck told Eddie. I don’t think Bobby knows yet.”

“I know.” Cap walks up the steps, pulling you in for a side hug. “Let’s make breakfast.” He nudges your side. You follow him to the kitchen and began to work in tandem. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“So he really meant it then? If he told everyone we’re broken up, he’s cementing it.” Your lips quiver.

“Smells good. What’s for breakfast?” Chim interjects. “Bad time?”

“No, no. It’s okay. Keep the drama at home right?” You look to Bobby. You excuse yourself and head down to the lockers. The three all watch your figure descend down the steps. In your hurry to stop the tears, your shoulder bumps into Eddie’s as he’s exiting the locker room.

“Hey,” he calls out your name. “Do you want me to stay? Buck’s in the locker room too. I could be a buffer for the tension.”

“Thanks Eddie. It’s okay. Really.” You wipe your eyes and give him a small smile. “I’ll see you later.”

As you’re heading into the locker room, you can hear Buck sighing and running water over his face. You can picture it without even seeing it. He’s probably hunched over the too short sink, back beginning to ache as he refuses to bend with his knees. He’s throwing cold water on his face to subside the tears and redness but of course it doesn’t work when tears are constantly flowing down his cheeks.

Despite your mind’s protests, your body moves to check on him. You round the corner and catch him wiping his face with a few paper towels. You see his shoulders tense before he even turns to look at you.

He whispers your name and quickly turns around. “Hi.”

“Breakfast is almost ready.” You blurt, not really sure what to say to him.

“Thanks, I’m not really that hungry. Look, can we talk?”

“Now’s not a good time, Evan. We should focus on work while we’re here not our personal issues.”

“Okay, well maybe we can meet somewhere after shift and talk.”

“Okay, yeah, sure.” You agreed quicker than you liked but a part of you believes the quicker he explains, the quicker you can get closure and move on from this. From him.

-

You’re not sure how long you sit there but you feel a shift behind you. You turn quickly to see Buck uncovering his face. He’s beyond confused and you’re sure he has a concussion.

“What happened?” He coughs.

You uncover your face and bend your neck to find his eyes. “We fell through the roof. Do you think you can walk?” You place a hand on his jaw.

Buck looks up at you but his gaze seems far away. He doesn’t answer as his eyes search yours.

“Evan, listen. We have to get out of here now. I need you to listen to me okay? Do what I say.” Your hand squeezes his cheeks inward and his lips are puckered. “We have to move.”

He nods softly and his hand holds onto your forearm, keeping your hand on his face. “You’re pretty, you know?”

“Evan, focus please.” You attempt to pull him up but his body is dead weight. “Oh my god. Please please work with me.” You whine.

“I’m sorry.” He sighs, still slumped on the floor.

“Don’t apologize. I just need you to try. Even if it’s just you crawling behind me. I don’t want us to die in here.”

“I mean I’m sorry about the fights and the break up.” He attempts to look up at you. “You’re right. I can be reckless and it’s gotten me in trouble before. And hurt. A lot.”

“Evan, we said we’d talk about this later. I’d really like you to keep that promise.” You drop back to your knees. “If we make it out of here, you’ll have my full attention and I’ll even keep my mouth shut the entire time you ramble. Please…” you plea, grabbing his hands.

He nods and squeezes your hands. You stand and put your arms under his armpits to help lift him. He does the best he can in his dazed state. After getting him to stand, you throw his arm around your shoulder.

As you’re walking to the nearest wall, some pieces of wood and other materials fall from above causing you to shriek and pull Buck closer to you. He uses his height and body to shield you from any falling debris. It’s the least he can do he thinks. Your hands make contact with a wall and you pull him along.

“Do you see a door or exit anywhere?” You ask.

Buck squints his eyes and tries to center his vision on anything in the room. “I think there’s something over there.” He points to an area on his left side and guides you along the wall. His hand suddenly falls in the air and he’s found an opening. “Here, come in front.”

You maneuver your way in front of him, tripping over something on the floor. His hands hold you upright until you find a handrail in the opening. You take a cautious step and your boot meets with what feels like a step. “Buck, I think we found stairs. Can you make your way up?”

“Yeah, I’m right behind you.” He keeps one hand on your waist and the other on the rail.

Just as you’re making your way to the top, a door leading to air and light opens. You’re met with Eddie and Chim. “Did you lovebirds make up?”

“Shut up, Chim.” You and Buck say at the same time. “Where’s Hen? Buck needs to be looked over.”

“Let’s get you out first.” Eddie pulls Buck’s arm over his shoulders and you follow Chim out to safety. Eddie and Buck follow behind as you run to Hen. She begins checking your eyes.

You shake your head and push her over to Buck. “Are you sure?” She questions. You nod and sit on the back of the open ambulance. You shrug your gear off and lift your shirt to get a better look at the pain in your side. You can feel the soreness of a forming bruise.

“Want me to take a look at that?” Chim asks. You nod and move over so he can sit. “He’s over there asking where you are and if you’re okay.” You give Chim a look to stay out of it. “Just give the guy a second chance. He’s my friend and he’s an idiot sometimes. He acts before he thinks but he means well.”

“He’s also your brother in law. His wellbeing means a lot to you because it means a lot to Maddie.” You laugh. “Don’t worry. We’re going to talk when he’s feeling better. I already promised him.”

“Good.” He smiles and hops off the back of the truck. “I would hate to see you both throw away something special.”

“And I would hate to work with you both if you officially ended things.” Eddie joins in. “Imagine sad and whiny Buck.”

“And grumpy y/n.” Chim nudges his side.

“Okay, that’s enough from both of you.” Bobby laughs. “We gotta get you both to a hospital for a check up so let’s go.”

Hen and Chim help Buck onto a gurney and into the truck while you stay at his side. On the ride to the hospital, Buck just stares at you and holds his hand out. You roll your eyes and place your hand in his. He smiles triumphantly and closes his eyes.

“Do I really hold you back?” You ask.

“Hm?” Buck asks. His eyes opening softly.

You know it’s not fair to question him when his brain was rattled and he hasn’t had proper care yet. You don’t really care about that though.

“Did you mean it when you said I nag you? That it feels like I’m hovering? Or breathing down your neck?” Your voice is soft and quiet enough for him to hear but hopefully not too loud especially for the two eavesdroppers in the front to hear. You know they’re trying to listen as they’ve stopped their own conversation.

“You really remembered everything I said, huh?” He sighs.

“Were you hoping I’d forget?”

“A little bit yeah. I was hoping if you forgot the mean things I said, it’d be easier for you to forgive me.” He jokes. Chim facepalms, confirming they are listening to the conversation.

Your eyes shift to the front of the truck. “Maybe we should save this conversation for when we’re alone.”

“Why?” Chim turns in his seat. “You know he’s going to tell us all anyway. It’s better I hear the full thing so I can relay it to Maddie as a witness and not just Buck’s recollection of what happened.” Hen jabs Chim in the side to shut him up. You make your way to the hospital in silence, hand still in Buck’s.

Buck is sent home to rest up while you stay on light duty for the rest of the shift due to a bruised side. Nothing is broken or severely injured but Bobby wants to be safe.

After your shift, you head to your apartment before you make your way over to Buck’s apartment with takeout from his favorite restaurant, medicine and the anniversary gift you got weeks prior. You’re not sure how this conversation is going to go but you still want to have the necklace you bought it. A simple silver chain with your initial on it.

You knock and wait a few minutes before deciding to use your key. You tell yourself you’re crossing this boundary to make sure he’s okay even though you’re not technically his girlfriend anymore: When you enter his place, it’s quiet and dark. You place the bags in your hands on the counter and slip off your shoes. The all too familiar action leaving an ache in your heart.

“Buck?” You creep quietly up the stairs and find him sprawled on the bed. He’s shirtless, sleeping on his stomach, wrapped in dark blue sheets that are tangled around his waist. His arms are wrapped around the pillow he’s currently buried his face into. You place a hand on his bare back and rub gently.

He stirs only briefly before turning his head in your direction. He whispers your name as a question.

“How are you feeling? I brought some stuff.” You whisper.

“What time is it?” He groans, pushing himself up.

With a firm hand you push him back down. “It’s 10pm. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Go back to sleep. I’m going to get the food ready and I’ll bring yours up. Rest.”

“I can help.” He attempts to get up again.

“Evan, I’m serious. Stay. Relax.” You smile and run your fingers down his back before turning to head back downstairs.

“Wait! Wait…” He shouts before calming quickly, realizing his voice echoed throughout the apartment and disturbed the peace of the moment. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

You stop, frozen in place, thinking of your next words. You turn to him, “When we were on the roof I was struggling to maintain how mad at you I was.”

“Yeah, you were venting to roof pretty hard. I was afraid you were going to start hitting me next.” He laughs as you sit beside him.

Your fingers itch to touch him again. You decide to go for it and lightly massage his neck. As much as Buck loves your massages, he turns over, onto his back and brings your hand to his chest before pulling you into him. You shriek at the sudden movement and laugh before getting comfortable into his side.

“How’s your bruise?” He whispers into your hairline, eyes focused on your fingers making small outlines of hearts on his chest.

“Not too bad. How’s your noggin?” You shift to look at his face.

“Still big and empty.” He jokes. You silently laugh, body shaking against him. “I never thanked you for saving me. You really are a great firefighter. I’m such an idiot and an ass for ever saying anything about your abilities. I was projecting my insecurities onto you and trying to hurt you.”

“I was really scared. Not just for myself but for you. There was a split second where I did think maybe you were right and I’m not as good as I thought and I wouldn’t be able to get us out of there. I had to take a minute to breathe. Then it got me thinking about you being alone. When you run into buildings and climb ladders, I think about how scared you must be but you do it because it feels right to you. You care so much about others that you risk your life over and over again.”

“This job is everything to me but so are you. I haven’t been doing a good job of showing you that and instead of proving how much you mean to me, I ended things. It’s probably the dumbest thing I’ve done. Ever.”

“I think Cap and the rest of the team would beg to differ.” You laugh.

“At least Maddie would agree with me.” He laughs and moves his hands to the sides of your neck, holding your head to look at him. “The job is here now but it won’t be forever. You though, you’re here now and hopefully for the rest of my life.”

“As long as you don’t break up with me again.” You joke, hands resting on top of his.

“Never.” He brings his lips to yours, hardly containing his smile.

“I brought food and your anniversary gift. Maybe we can have a makeup date?” You push his chest back to get a look at him.

“You brought a gift? So, were you planning to forgive me before you even got here?” He smirks.

“Shut up, Evan. Just get your butt downstairs and start serving the food.”

“Yes ma’am.” He pecks your forehead before grabbing his shirt from the nightstand and heading downstairs. You smile to yourself once he descends the stairs before your eyes see the velvet box on his nightstand. Your eyes widen and you slowly reach for it.

“Don’t look in the box!” You jump at being caught. Buck has learned from his past mistakes of rushing into things so it’s not an engagement ring just yet. A simple bracelet with his birthstone.

[angelic-writer]

Mavis made his way through the sea of people to get to his locker. No one spoke to him. No one paid any attention to him. He didn’t mind this, actually. It allowed him to pass through undetected like a ninja. It was a perk of being one of the quiet kids. Although, sometimes, he wished he had more than just four people to talk to.

He spotted Carter through the crowd and gave him a quick “Hey!”. He waved back in response, smiling at him.

Compared to Mavis' drab appearance, looking like he just got out of bed, Carter’s hair was combed back in a neat fashion, his eyes sparkling like he just got a good night’s sleep. His attire consisted of a black shirt, blue jeans and a red flannel jacket. He was a bit of an anomaly at school. Most girls talked to him, but he had never gone out on a date with them. He was popular, but he was always seen talking with Mavis. People had asked him to hang out with people of his social status, but he always turned it down. “I don’t want to leave my friend alone, you know?”

Carter grew concerned when he saw that Mavis' eyes were droopy. “You okay?”

“Oh yeah. I just didn’t get enough sleep last night.” He answered, rubbing his eyes.

“Oh… Did you…” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Dream about it again?”

Mavis let out a shaky sigh. “Yeah. I thought I got past that. I thought it had gone away in middle school.”

“Listen, if you need to talk, I can come over and we can. Or if you don’t want to, we can just talk about whatever. I’m fine with anything.”

Mavis smiled. Whenever he was around, his mood would improve a bit. They had both been friends since they were kids and they bonded over their family struggles. With Mavis' family, his parent’s feuds that constantly aggravated him. With Carter’s family, his mother having medical problems. He remembered the day of a particularly nasty fight where Mavis' mom and dad got into a screaming match. He had gone to Carter's house, crying, wondering if his parents didn’t love him anymore. “Is it my fault?” He asked him in tears. “Is it my fault mommy and daddy are constantly arguing? Weren't they supposed to love each other?"

Carter was quick to rescue him, offering a shoulder for him to cry on, reassuring him that his parents still love him. For the rest of the day, they played some of his favorite video games, played hide and seek outside with Mavis hiding in the shed, and even let him play with some of his action figures. Even though he felt uncomfortable about barging into his house unannounced, the fact that his friend was there for him in his time of need made it all worth it.

Mavis and Carter both got their textbooks out of their respective lockers and were about to walk to their classes when they heard a familiar voice.

“Hey guys! You lookin’ pretty snazzy today!”

They both turned to look at the source and their smiles widened. There they are. Tyler Lechner and Gavin Ozpin. They were both seen as the punk kids in school, always getting into trouble with school faculty. That was definitely why Charlie hung out with them. Tyler had a hoodie that had the logo of a rock band on it while Gavin was all decked out in his scene kid gear - ripped, black jeans and a ripped, denim jacket. He had multiple piercings in his ears and one of his eyebrows had a shaven mark on one side. He even got himself a tongue piercing which Mavis couldn’t help but cringe at. He remembered how he reacted the first time he saw Gavin's new look.

“Whoa! Dude, you look... Different. What'd you do?” He had asked him on their first day of sophomore year.

“Well, Charlie and Ty took me to a few places. We thought it would, y’know, change our status quo a bit.” He fluffed up his hair. “Gave me some curls too.”

“What status quo?” Carter asked.

“Uhhh….”

Tyler stepped in. “He just wanted to look different this year.”

“So, spent another boring night without internet?” Gavin asked, leaning against the lockers.

“Actually, it’s pretty beneficial. It allowed me to catch up on some reading.” Carter said.

“Pfft! Who has time to read anyway? There could be so many other things we could be doing. So many TV shows we could be watching. But thanks to the mayor’s bone-headed decision, our rights are slowly being taken away!”

“Gavin, you know there’s a reason behind the curfew and electronics rule.” Tyler said.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s because they’re trying to keep us safe from the mimics. But I mean, they didn’t have to say that we can’t use our cell phones after 9, right?” He waggled his cell phone. “I mean, I doubt someone’s face could appear on something like this and kill you.”

"I mean, it could be possible considering what they can do."

“Well, it’s best to be safe and follow the rules. You don’t want to get fined again, do you, Gav?” Mavis asked.

“No…”

“Good.”

They changed the conversation to something more suited for the morning. The point Gavin made about the cell phone restriction made Mavis think… There hadn’t been any reports of mimics coming through phones as of yet. Now that he thought about it, there wasn’t really a good reason for this rule. Maybe the mayor caved in after several paranoid calls from parents. Something about their children being influenced by Satan or the mimics. Business as usual in Crestwood county.

Other than that, life resumed as usual for the teens. Tyler and Gavin were talking about who knows what while him and Carter started quizzing each other to prepare for Mr. Bentley’s test.

"Hey Tyler? Where's Charlie?" Gavin asked.

"She's probably hanging out with her gal-pals. She always want to keep up the bad girl attitude." Tyler responded.

"Hmm."

Although he said that, they already knew who Charlie was.

Project Mimicry (Vol 1) - Chapter 1

"In the beginning, God created the heaven and the Earth." - Genesis 1:1

1983

"This is a test. This station is conducting a test of the Emergency Broadcasting System. This is only a test."

A long, screeching noise blared from the old TV. The Markson family had a different program on when they announced the test. It was some cowboy show their dad loved so much. For eleven year old Jade, it made her stomach churn. It was an odd sound, different from the sounds of horses and gunfire that came from the living room while they were doing family worship. It made her want to jump into her mother's arms and pray to Jehovah for the noise to stop.

Her mom, dad and brother were silent as the attention signal droned on. After a minute, it stopped.

"This is a test of the emergency broadcasting system. The broadcasters of your area in voluntary cooperation with federal, state and local authorities have developed this system to keep you informed in the event of an emergency. If this had been an actual emergency, the attention signal you have just heard would have been filed by official information, news or instructions. This station serves the northern Alabama area. This concludes this test of the emergency broadcast system."

Jade fiddled with the pages of her book, trying to think of the right words to say. Her brother, Caleb had resumed work on his drawing, seeming to not care about anything. Her mother let out a small sigh. "I swear, can they not scare the kids like that?"

"Mom..." Jade quietly said. "Why do they send out something like this? What if it hadn't been a test? Are... Are we gonna die?"

Opal got up from her chair and pulled her into her arms. "Oh sweetie, we're not gonna die. Everything's gonna be okay. This whole thing will blow over in no time."

"Well Jade," Opal's husband, Simon, chimed in. "They played the test on our TV because they want to inform us on what's happening. The world is at a very turbulent time at the moment so they are doing their best to keep us informed. If we were actually under attack, we would've been hiding in the basement." He let out a small chuckle.

"Well, what can we do to make it better?" Jade asked.

"Pray to Jehovah, of course. Our safety is his priority and if we pray to him, he'll protect us."

Jade smiled and snuggled into her mother. Jehovah is the only thing she knew. She may not be like the other "worldly" kids, but she didn't need all those material goods. She didn't need to see the latest movie or buy the newest toys. As long as she had her family and Jehovah, she can get through anything.

Caleb let out a soft coo.

"Oh, we didn't forget about you!" Simon lifted him out of his baby chair and gently rocked him. The whole family began to giggle.

This was their life. This was their routine. Jade was determined to be a good older sister to Caleb. And soon, he will be baptized.

-------

December 24th, 1983

"This is an important message from the Crestwood police department. This is not a test. I repeat, this is not a test. The Crestwood police department has issued a Shelter-in-place Warning for the county of Crestwood until further notice. Reports of unknown figures have been confirmed by law enforcement and the Department of Babylonian Crusaders. For your safety, until 5 PM to 6 AM, stay home, lock all doors and windows and, in the event of a break-in, have access to a loaded weapon at all times. Do not call 911 unless you need to report an emergency. The Crestwood police department and the Department of Babylonian Crusaders thanks you for your cooperation.

Stay tuned for a message from the representative of the Department of Babylonian Crusaders."

"Hello. My name is Dr. Lloyd Evans from the Department of Babylonian Crusaders. We have been receiving reports of unknown organisms that we've decided to call mimics. You may have already gotten the alert from the EBS about this phenomenon, but we're here to tell you about what those mimic types are and what you can do to protect yourself.

The first type are the defensive mimics. They are a sub group of mimics that take on the role of a protector when they find a human. Some pose as aggressive mimics to ward off other humans or they deceive humans they perceive as harmful with their harmless look and kill them. Think of it as a predator camouflaging itself in order for them to eat their prey.

There are three types of defensive mimics. There are Batesian, Mullerian and Emsleyan or Mertensian mimics.

Batesian mimics are harmless. They pose as a harmful mimic to ward off anyone they tries to hurt them or their human.

Mullerian mimics are two or more mimics that advertise themselves as harmful to ward off predators. These mimics often work in groups of two or three.

Emsleyan or Mertensian mimics take the form of a less harmful mimic to deceive the predator and kill them.

These ones can be considered safe, but you should still be wary of them. Aggressive mimics are the ones you need to watch out for. Now, aggressive mimics are the type of mimic that pose as humans to kill them. These types use mind games to toy with their victims. If they haven't committed suicide, the mimic will finish the job.

Predators are a mimic group where they take the form of a loved one, deceive them into thinking they are the real person and then use psychological manipulation. Those are the most dangerous types of mimics and we strongly advise to avoid them at all costs.

Parasites are [REDACTED DUE TO SIGNAL GLITCH]

Now, here's what you can do to keep yourself safe. Stay in your homes after 6 PM, lock all windows and doors and keep a loaded weapon with you at all times. In the event of a mimic attack, follow the S.A.F.E. principle.

S - Secure yourself in a room.

A - Access the situation. Learn how the mimic operates.

F - Fire your weapon. If the mimic attacks, do not hesitate. It can mean life or death.

E - If possible, escape. Do not let them win.

We hope this message keeps you safe. We're very sorry for the interruption and we hope you have a Merry Christmas!"

Though this message was broadcasted to most TVs, some of them reported the S part saying something different. According to reports, it said "Surrender yourself to the Lord."

--------

1987

The young man's back was pressed up against the wall. The shotgun he had in his hands had one shell left. The creature that was at his door kept calling out to him in a mockery of his wife's voice.

"Ralphie... Please let me in... I'm sorry for sca-a-a-aring you back there. You know how I am."

His grip tightened. That wasn't her. That wasn't his wife. She was dead. And now, he was going to die too. His eyes started to fill with tears.

Marla... I'm so sorry... I couldn't protect you... I couldn't save you from these things.

The image of his wife sprawled out on the kitchen floor flashed in his mind. Her neck that was gushing blood... He swallowed, trying to hold back his vomit. They had followed the rules. They had done everything the broadcast said. What did they do wrong? They had to have done something wrong for something like this to happen.

He gritted his teeth. Pondering over this won't help him now. Remember the S.A.F.E. principle, Ralph. Remember.

He secured himself in his bedroom, grabbing his shotgun so he could protect himself. He analyzed the situation. The creature, the mimic, was trying to use his wife's voice to lure him out, using his nickname. Ralphie was what she would call him when he came home from work. The way she said it made his heart soar. However, when it said his nickname, it felt like nails on a chalkboard.

The high school sweethearts had moved into the rural Alabama town after they had gotten married in New York. They thought getting away from the bustling city life would help them. They were in the talks of starting a family when the broadcast came on, talking about reports of mimics.

"Talk about bad timing. On Christmas too." Marla had said while bringing out the cookies and milk. "Let's hope Santa gets there okay."

"I hope so too. But hey, look on the bright side. This lockdown will end at 6 AM tomorrow. We've still got time to celebrate, right?"

"Yeah, I guess you're right. Besides, anything's fun with you." She gave him a light peck on the cheek.

A low sob escaped him. There was so much they wanted to do together. So many things they had planned. Their entire life... They were now gone.

Oh Marla... Why did they have to take you? What did we do?

God, please... Please help me.

He wiped his face. No, crying and pleading to some higher being isn't gonna solve anything. I have to survive. I have to live on for Marla! If I can get out of here, I could alert the police.

With a sense of courage taking over, he pointed his shotgun at the door. The mimic had begun to claw at the door, no doubt leaving scratch marks in the wood. "Ralphie... Please... Let me in. It's so cold. My neck hurts. Help..."

"Shut up... You're not her..."

The doorknob rattled.

"You're not her. You're not her! You're not her!!"

There was a sudden loud banging making him jump. "Ralph, open the goddamn door! You'd really leave me out here with these things?! How could you?!" The thing screeched.

"You're! Not! Her! Leave me alone!! You killed her, you monster!! You're not- You're not her!" He screamed, tears streaming down his face. "Just try and get me! I dare you! I'll fucking shoot you if you try anything!"

"Ralph..." His 'wife' had begun to cry. Normally, it would cause him to go over and hug her, but he will not be swayed. What it was doing, it was disgusting. It's desecrating his wife's memory, his image, his everything. The nerve of the creature...

The door flew open, allowing Ralph to see the monster. Though it was hard to see through the darkness, what he could see made him freeze.

Its form was tall and lanky, its arms and legs stretched out to an almost inhuman degree. What little hair it had on its head was beginning to fall off. Its skin was beginning to sag. Ralph could swear he was beginning to see bones. The mimic looked at him with empty eyes yet it pierced his soul with an intense glare. It opened its mouth to speak, but all that came out were rasps and gargles.

Ralph began to shake, his aim wavering as he stared at... He didn't even know what he was seeing. It was human, but at the same time, it was not. It looked like his wife, but it was like looking at a decomposing carcass. The smell... It smelled like rotten eggs left out on the hot sidewalk. Bile threatened to come up his throat, but he held it in.

One shot. He had to make it count. If it failed...

The creature began to laugh. It was the kind of laugh that made you cringe. It was an ear-piercing, gurgling laugh that was like if you tried to imitate a toy clown on its last legs.

Ralph pressed his finger on the trigger. Taking a deep breath, he screamed out.

"I will not let you kill me!!"

The gun went off.

--------

2017

The group of kids stared at the small house as their two older brothers talked to the movers. The smallest one of the bunch hugged her teddy bear. Though leaving their home state of Florida didn't seem like a huge deal at first, Catherine still had her doubts. Sure, they were free from all the hurricanes, but they still had friends there. They still had people they could talk to.

But now, she and her brothers moved to a new town. There was no one she knew there. And there was... an abundance of churches. Lots and lots of churches.

@chibisrpblog