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thoughtfulfiction · 1 day ago

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While We’re Young

Author’s note: Anon requested, Hope you all enjoy!

“Wait,” you said, your voice breaking the comfortable silence in the car. You twisted one of your hoodie strings around your finger, tightening your grip on it and staring at Justin as if the realization had just crashed into you. “What if they don’t like me?”

Justin glanced over, his brows furrowing before his expression softened. His hand found its place on your thigh, his thumb tracing a lazy pattern through the fabric of your leggings. You were convinced that his soothing touch could change lives. “They’re going to love you,” he said simply, as though it wasn’t even a question. “My mom’s already planning to interrogate you about your favorite foods so she can cook for you. That’s her love language.”

You wanted to believe him, but your mind was already racing. “I mean, what if they think I’m not good enough for you? Or—oh god—what if I say something stupid and embarrass myself? Bad first impressions are impossible to recover from, and if this doesn't go the way we hope…” You trailed off, feeling the knot in your stomach tighten.

At the next stoplight, Justin leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to your temple. “First of all, you couldn’t embarrass yourself even if you tried. And second, I’ve seen you charm complete strangers. My family doesn’t stand a chance.”

Despite his confidence, your nerves didn’t fully settle. “Thanks, babe,” you murmured, managing a small smile. “But what am I supposed to do with the next thirteen hours? That’s so much time for me to go through worse case scenarios.”

“And to make me listen to your Sad Girl playlist,” Justin switched gears to remind you, his lips twitching into a grin.

“Oh, absolutely.” You laughed, connecting your phone to his car’s Bluetooth, taking a break from your negative self-talk. The opening chords of your favorite melancholic ballad filled the car as you leaned back in your seat.

Justin groaned dramatically but didn’t complain. Instead, he reached over to squeeze your hand, the warmth of his skin a quiet and comforting reassurance that you’d carry with you all the way to Eugene.

The fact that he was bringing you was a big deal already but to know that he’d only really done this a couple times made you feel special. Even if he didn’t really say it, he was falling for you just as much as you were falling for him.

Justin pulled you out of your thoughts when he asked, “are you hungry at all? Because I’m thinking about stopping somewhere. I’m starving.”

“Oh yeah, lunch sounds good. I think I saw a Wingstop sign towards this next exit but I can look it up.”

You opted to sit in the car and eat, giving him a long winded breakdown of what you wanted to do and see in Eugene.

“I want the works. Walk me down memory lane. And definitely take me to Nike. It honestly feels illegal not to go to a Nike store where it all started. I’m sure you’re looking to add to your endless collection anyway.” You note with a laugh. If Nike made suits, he'd definitely be first in line.

He gave you a pointed look. “It was an endless collection until I met and started dating a thief. Do you know how many of my sweatshirts I found in your closet this morning while helping you pack? I was looking for the purple one for weeks.”

You laughed so hard you nearly choked on your fries, swapping spots with him after lunch so he could take a break from driving. “Well I’m sorry! It’s not my fault your clothes are so big and they smell like you. Anytime you’re gone I just throw one on and it’s like you’re always with me.”

“Nice save…Catwoman.”

You scoff. “I prefer Robin Hood, actually. Take from the rich and give to the poor. You’re rich, so I take from you and...give to me. The poor.”

“That would work better if I didn’t get most of that stuff for free, but that is a pretty solid comparison.”

After about 8 hours of you being on aux, you decided to cut him so slack and let him take over on music as you continued to drive, mouthing the lyrics of the latest song that was playing from his phone, quickly getting lost in the rhythm.

He glanced over at you, chuckling softly, nodding his head along to the beat. “I didn’t know you were an 80s rock fan.”

“I didn’t either but you played this a few weeks ago while we were making dinner and I’ve been listening to it ever since. Hate to admit it but this is kind of a banger." You smirked, tilting your head toward him. "You know…I won’t tell anyone if you sing.”

Justin immediately starts shaking his head. “No shot. You’re not doing this to me.”

You turned up the music, singing loudly and deliberately off-key as he sighed deeply, his head dropping back against the headrest. But to your surprise, he joined in during the chorus. Both of you were screaming the lyrics to “Pour Some Sugar on Me” by Def Leppard, the car practically vibrating with your energy.

“What happens on the road trip stays on the road trip,” he said, holding out his pinky.

“Deal,” you laughed, locking your pinky with his before refocusing on the road.

A few hours later, Justin motioned for you to take the next exit. “Let’s hop out right here. I want to show you something,” he said cryptically.

The stop turned out to be a scenic lookout, the perfect place to watch the sunset with Mt. Shasta looming majestically in the distance. Justin laced his fingers with yours as the two of you walked toward the edge, stretching your legs after hours in the car.

“This is the most beautiful view I’ve ever seen,” you whispered, mesmerized by the golden and pink hues painting the sky.

Justin turned to you with a warm smile, his eyes full of something that made your stomach flutter. “Yeah… me too.”

You smacked his arm, keeping your gaze on the horizon. “Justin, focus. You’re not even looking at the scenery right now.”

“Sorry, I just got really distracted by the view in front of me. It’s kind of become my favorite.” He stepped behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on the top of your head. His beard—something that came and went whenever he felt like it—tickled your temple, making you smile.

Turning around in his arms, you finally look up at him, the sight still stealing your breath even after all this time. His green eyes were softer in the glow of the setting sun, flickering between your eyes and lips as if he couldn’t decide where to focus.

“You’re my favorite view too,” you murmured, voice barely above a whisper. “Wouldn’t mind waking up to you for a while...the rest of my life even.”

The words hung in the air, fragile yet heavy with meaning. His brows lifted slightly, and for a moment, you worried you’d said too much. You hadn't even meant to say that last part out loud and you almost backtracked. But then, his lips curled into a small, hesitant smile, like he was processing the weight of your words.

“Really?” he asked, his voice low and steady. His hand came up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek. “You—you see us doing this? Getting married, spending our lives together?”

The vulnerability in his tone made your heart ache in the best way. “Yeah, I do. Which is funny because I’ve never actually been with someone that I see a real future with.”

Justin didn’t respond immediately, but his actions spoke louder than any words ever could. His hands slid to frame your face fully, his thumbs brushing over your cheekbones as if memorizing every detail. He leaned in slowly, giving you time to pull away if you wanted to—but you didn’t.

When his lips finally met yours, it was soft and deliberate, like he was pouring everything he felt but couldn’t say into that one kiss. It wasn’t hurried or frantic; it was the kind of kiss that made the world fade away until it was just the two of you.

His hand gently cradled your head, holding you in place as if he was afraid you might slip away. You gripped the front of his hoodie, pulling him closer, your heart racing as the kiss deepened. There was something so raw, so unspoken in the way his lips moved against yours—it wasn’t just passion; it was promise. Everything you saw, this bright beautiful future together? He saw it too.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless, foreheads resting together. He let out a shaky laugh, his hands still cradling your face. “I’ve never actually been with someone that I see a real future with either,” he admitted, his voice hoarse but filled with a quiet certainty. “Until now.”

The kiss lingered for just a moment longer, both of you savoring the connection, the sound of your heartbeat matching the rhythm of your breath. When Justin finally pulled back, there was a brief moment of silence, a quiet understanding between you. He took off his hat and ran a hand through his hair, giving you a small smile before pulling away completely to open the door of the car.

“I think we’ve stalled long enough,” he said, his voice a bit rougher than usual but still carrying that calm confidence you admired. “Let’s get this over with.”

You both shared a laugh, though it felt a bit nervous on your part as the reality of the day hit. You had no idea what to expect, but you knew this was a big moment for Justin—and for you.

Justin took the keys from your hand, giving you one last reassuring squeeze before getting in the driver's seat. You took a deep breath, trying to shake off the jittery nerves you hadn’t even realized you were holding onto.

The final leg of the drive felt like it stretched on forever, even though only a few hours had passed since you were on the mountain. There was something different in the air now. The soft, quiet hum of the road felt more like a countdown to something important.

Every few minutes, Justin would glance over at you, a soft smile curling at his lips as if trying to reassure himself just as much as you. His hand eventually found itself encasing yours, his thumb making lazy circles over your skin. He wasn’t saying much, but his presence, calm and unwavering, was more than enough.

When the exit for Eugene finally appeared, you felt your pulse quicken. This was it. This was the moment.

“Here we go,” Justin murmured, his voice somehow more steady than his movements, as he guided the car off the highway and toward the familiar road leading to his childhood home.

The transition felt sudden, but not uncomfortable. It was a quiet moment of realization that everything you’d shared so far had been leading to this point. He was letting you in. You were meeting the people who mattered most to him, the ones who had shaped him into the man he was today.

As you approached the house, you could see the familiar outline of the porch, a few trees swaying in the breeze, and a small garage you guessed held memories of Justin’s childhood. The house was modest, but there was a sense of warmth and familiarity that seemed to radiate from the front door, even from the car.

Justin slowed as he approached, his hand reaching over to squeeze yours one last time before he parked the car. He looked over at you, eyes soft but serious, like he was searching for your reassurance.

“You ready?” he asked quietly, his voice laced with both excitement and nerves.

You nodded, squeezing his hand back. “Yeah. Ready.”

And with that, the two of you got out of the car and walked toward the front door of his family’s home, the journey that had brought you here feeling like both an ending and a beginning.

The door swung open before you even knocked, and there stood his mom, her arms outstretched.

She was gorgeous, her dark hair a stark contrast to Justin's much lighter features. But she wasn't interested in him at all, making a beeline for you straight away. “Oh, you’re even more beautiful than he said! I’m Holly—come in, come in!"

You barely had time to process her words before you were enveloped in a warm hug, her energy immediately putting you at ease. Over her shoulder, you spot Justin’s dad, Mark, standing on the porch with a reserved smile, and Justin’s brothers are leaning against the doorway, smirking. Justin laughed softly behind you, side stepping you and his mom. "Alright, let her breathe please? It'd be helpful if she made it through this entire night without suffocating," he jokes as his mom pulls away, rolling her eyes as she gives him a hug.

A younger guy who looks almost exactly like a mustached version of your boyfriend greets you next. "Hi, I'm Patrick. Glad Mitch wasn't lying and you are a real person, but pro tip? You're way out of this dork's league," he says with a serious face, nodding his head towards his older brother.

Justin glares at him and doesn't respond, muttering something under his breath that only Patrick catches as he bursts into a fit of laughter. You give Mitch a hug—the familiar face of Justin's older brother a welcome sight. He was a first-year orthopedic surgery resident at UCLA, the perfect situation for him and Justin to live together again. You'd been able to meet him on several occasions which proved useful in easing your nerves about meeting everyone else. “How was the drive? Are you guys staying at the ranch tonight?”

“We are,” you replied with a smile. “I’m really excited to finally see this infamous place.”

Justin’s dad steps forward, his handshake firm but warm, his eyes studying you with quiet curiosity before his face softens into a welcoming smile. “Don’t let these two scare you off. We’re happy to finally meet you. Let's head inside, I think Holly already has the baby pictures set out and ready for you to go through," he smiles, patting Justin on the back as his son shakes his head.

"You're lucky your dad talked me out of making a PowerPoint Presentation because we were seconds away from watching a pre dinner slideshow." Holly says to him with a small smile as everyone steps inside.

Patrick's voice cuts through everyone's laughter, "she's not even kidding, it was about to have music included and everything but dad saved you. I was about to give her some of the best material." He looks over at you, overenunciating for emphasis. "Two words: bowl. Cut."

"See what I have to deal with?" Justin whispers, gently pulling you into his side. Mark and Holly exchange knowing looks but don't say anything.

The house smelled of cinnamon and fresh bread, like warmth itself had settled into the walls. Framed pictures lined the hallways—some faded with time, others vibrant and new—each capturing a story of childhood adventures and hard-won victories. The fireplace crackled softly, casting flickering shadows across the cozy living room. This wasn’t just a house; it was a sanctuary, a place where love was stitched into the very fabric of its foundation.

On the table in the living room is a stack of photo albums from when Justin was a newborn all the way up until his senior year of college. Countless memories were shared in these frames, a clearly busy but joyful childhood filled with love, laughter and lots of sporting events of all kinds. You could see that this family valued quality time with each other and the home you were in radiated warmth and love.

You ran your fingers lightly over the plastic covering of one album, tracing the faded marker label: Justin – Year 3. Inside, a chubby-cheeked toddler grinned back at you, his tiny facial features stretched in a mischievous but slightly forced smile.

“He never changed,” Patrick teased. “Still hates cameras.”

His words made you laugh a little because it was true, but you also saw something deeper. A boy who had grown up in a home where love wasn’t measured in trophies or contracts but in moments. The same boy who had fought to protect his private life in the face of stadium lights and national attention. You understood now—it wasn’t about secrecy. It was about keeping his people, the most important part of him, safe.

Your gaze flickered to Justin, his fingers tapping against his thigh—a telltale sign of deep thought. He wasn’t just reminiscing. He was remembering what it felt like to carry all of this, to be seen as something larger than life before he even had a chance to grow into it. And yet, here, he wasn’t the NFL quarterback. He was just...Justin.

"He was the starter by the end of that season, kind of became the hometown hero from then," Mitch sighs, sifting through some of the photos. "Things kind of got chaotic after that, with comparisons and people talking on social media."

"It was annoying," Justin cuts in, "deleted my Instagram after that. Only got it back around the draft for endorsement purposes." His words are dry, like it was painful or embarrassing thinking back to that time.

You had always respected, even admired, Justin’s need for privacy. But sitting here, surrounded by the people who had shaped him, you understood where it all came from: it wasn’t just about keeping the world out—it was about keeping his world safe. The weight of expectations, the relentless scrutiny, the unspoken pressure to be perfect—it had started young. He hadn’t chosen to be private. He had been forced to learn how to protect the things that mattered most.

And that’s what this house and his family was.

His one refuge from a world that always wanted more.

"Alright," Holly says, breaking you out of your epiphany, "who's ready to eat?"

This was a family you could definitely see yourself being a part of. Justin seemed so much more relaxed and at ease here which was a stark contrast to what you'd seen from him recently. His job was unforgiving, unrelenting. And the fans? You thanked your lucky stars daily for the fact that Justin wasn't on Twitter, especially after the Houston loss. This is where he belonged, these were his people. They didn't care about the stats or the money or everything that came with it and that's exactly how he wanted to be treated. He had a home in these people. He'd only found that comfort and peace one other time since he left Eugene.

And that was when he met you.

Dinner went on seamlessly, Mark joking asked if you two had a wedding date set after watching his son not-so-subtly check in on you throughout your stay. There were inside jokes, little moments of laughter from your relationship with Justin like how you had to adjust to his crazy hours in the facility from Monday-Wednesday but Thursdays were the days that really mattered, it was just the two of you. And sometimes Mitch and Isabella. But those were the days that brought you even closer, those little moments, just like this one that brought you so much joy it felt like you'd explode. There was easy laughter, Patrick telling some story about Justin being so private and how much he likes to keep to himself that he never thought he'd see this day. You spoke up and reassured him that you think you've successfully peeled back some layers and found your best friend in the process. Out of the corner of your eye you caught Mitch giving Patrick a nudge. Even Mark cracked a little smile, but all you could focus on was Justin's subtle smile that spoke volumes, in his own unique way. After everyone was finished with their meal, you found yourself in the kitchen with Holly, helping her plate dessert while the guys debated football in the other room.

“He’s different with you, you know.” She nodded, wiping her hands on a dish towel before leaning against the counter.

Your hands froze mid-reach. A small knot of nerves twisted in your stomach. “Different good or…?”

She smiled, her eyes soft with something unreadable. “Good. Really good.” There was a wistfulness in her expression, something unspoken lingering in the air. “You remind me of someone.”

You tilted your head, curiosity sparking. “Oh?”

“His grandma. My mom,” she said, voice quieter now, like the weight of memory had settled over her. “She was the only one who could ever get my dad to slow down. He was always moving—always thinking about the next challenge, the next goal. But with her, it was…different. She had this way of pulling him back to the present, reminding him that love isn’t measured in achievements. That life isn’t just about what you do—it’s about who you share it with.”

Her eyes met yours then, her meaning unmistakable. “Seeing you and Justin felt very similar to seeing them together again. It’s really nice to see him be with someone who helps him to reel it in a little.”

Your heart clenched, warmth blooming in your chest. You swallowed past the lump in your throat, forcing out a small laugh. “Well, he’s still a workaholic, so I might not be that good at it.”

Holly chuckled. “That’s just who he is. But I see the way he looks at you. The way he’s always checking in. You’re his home. His safe space.” She paused, and added softly, “And that’s all a mother could ever want for her son.”

You blinked back the unexpected sting of tears and watched as Holly swiped at her eyes. Before you could really process what you were doing, you were hugging her again. All the nerves and tension from earlier have completely vanished. Justin might not say much, but his actions had always spoken volumes. And now, hearing it from his mom—knowing that she saw it too—meant more than you could put into words.

The two of you walked back in with trays holding little bowls filled with apple crisp and a scoop of vanilla ice cream on top with caramel drizzle.

As Justin watched you, something settled in his chest—a feeling he hadn’t even known he was searching for. His mom was smiling at you in that way she only did when she had already decided someone was family. His dad—usually quiet, reserved—nodded along to your words like he genuinely enjoyed the conversation. His brothers, relentless as ever, had already started pulling you into their teasing.

And there you were. Sitting beside him, laughing like you belonged here. Because you did.

An hour later, after lingering goodbyes and a few last jokes, you walked side by side to his car. As Justin slid into the driver’s seat, he exhaled slow and deep. A weight he hadn’t even realized he was carrying finally lifted. Maybe it was the fear of his two worlds colliding. Maybe it was the quiet, unspoken worry that you wouldn’t fit into this part of his life.

But you did. Seamlessly. Effortlessly. Like you were always meant to.

“Well,” you said, patting his thigh with a teasing grin, “that went great. Can’t believe you were so freaked out.”

He turned to you, feigning offense before shaking his head with a laugh. The sound of it filled the car, warm and easy. You joined in, your laughter melting into his as he reached for your hand, lacing his fingers through yours.

This. This is what home should feel like.

Justin leaned over, pressing a kiss to your temple, his lips lingering for just a second longer than necessary. “Told you they’d love you,” he murmured.

But as he pulled back, hand still wrapped around yours, the thought hit him like a slow-burning realization.

I think I might love you too.

#justin herbert #justin herbert imagine #justin herbert x reader #justin herbert fic

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jungkoode · 3 days ago

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𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐌𝐄 𝐔𝐏 | 09

˗ˏˋ rules ˎˊ˗

"Rules are funny things. You make them thinking they'll keep you safe, keep everything contained. But sometimes the person you're really trying to protect yourself from… is you"

next | index

⋆｡°✩ chapter details ✩°｡⋆

word count: 6.5k

content: candle shop shenanigans, friend group dynamics, rules and boundaries

✧ author's note ✧

OKAY FIRST OF ALL—who absolutely LOVES Yeji? Because ME. The way she clocked Jungkook within seconds and had NO filter??? Like, I'm obsessed. Mans was genuinely SHOCKED that someone told him to sit his ass down. The audacity of this woman to not immediately melt under his smirky, tattooed menace energy?? I respect her so much. A feminist icon, if you will.

And IRYA. Ughhh, my precious girlie. The way she’s just casually vibing with Jungkook? Like?? They are NOTHING alike, and yet she’s over here just mingling with him, being friendly, unbothered, meanwhile Yeji is foaming at the mouth in the background. I love that contrast so much. It’s like, she doesn’t see him as a threat, just another guy in the room, which makes Jungkook (who is used to either being hated or obsessed over) lowkey confused. You can see the gears turning in his head like “Wait. Why aren’t you scared of me. Or pissed at me. Or flirting with me.” HAHAH POOR BOY.

And let’s talk about Jimin, because HELLO, my quiet support KING. He’s not even saying much in this chapter, but he’s there, next to Y/N, just in case. That kind of silent loyalty? The “I know you can handle yourself, but if you need me, I’m already here” type of presence??? I eat that up every time. Their friend group is everything to me.

Speaking of menace behavior—Jungkook. Are we surprised? He’s so unserious about everything. I loved giving him Kuko as a contact name for Y/N because in every fic, it’s always Kook or Kookie or Koo and I just—I wanted something different. Something slightly sharp and weird. Like, why does it sound like a pet name and an insult at the same time 😭😭 It’s PERFECT for their dynamic.

And finally, Y/N. My messy, mouthy, disaster baby. She is THEE representation of someone who’s barely entered adulthood, fresh into uni, kind of immature, kind of figuring it out, but loud as hell about it. Like, I KNOW some of y’all are probably reading this chapter thinking “girl, seriously??” but THAT'S THE POINT. She’s got so much personality, she’s a walking contradiction, she’s flawed, but she’s HER. I love her for it.

I also stuffed this chapter with SO many Easter eggs. Like, the foreshadowing is right there at the end, but I know y’all aren’t catching everything yet. You’ll come back later, reread it, and be like “OH MY GOD, KIKI???” And I’ll just be sitting here like 😌✌️ I love when a plan comes together.

Anyway, here’s Chapter 9, babes. Enjoy the mess. I’m off to go prep for my therapist session because, let’s be real, I probably projected a little too hard in this one LMAO.

⋆｡°✩ read on ✩°｡⋆

ao3

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You don't know why you agreed to go shopping with Yeji.

She texted at ass o'clock in the morning about "needing your expert opinion," and honestly? Your sleep-deprived brain just went sure, whatever without processing the implications. You just mentioned having to buy something for Emma — her birthday's in two weeks — and it was downhill from there.

"This place smells like a Pinterest board threw up," Yeji announces as you enter the third candle store of the day. Some fancy boutique with mason jars everywhere and prices that make you want to cry. "Who names a candle Whispers of Moonlight?"

"Someone getting paid way too much," you mutter, checking the price tag. Jesus. "Forty dollars for—is this supposed to smell like grass?"

"Rich people grass." Yeji picks up another one, face scrunching. "Autumn's Last Kiss. What does that even mean? Like, trees making out?"

"Pretty sure it's just pumpkin spice trying to be fancy."

"Capitalism is wild." She moves down the aisle, combat boots squeaking against the polished floor. "Oh shit, look at this one. Midnight Jasmine's Secret Rendezvous. That's not a candle, that's a Mills & Boon novel."

You snort, trailing after her. "Speaking of reading material—"

"We are not starting a book club book chat right now."

"I'm just saying, if you actually showed up to Victorian Lit—"

"And listen to Professor Stevens cream himself over Dickens for two hours? Pass." She picks up another candle, this one in black glass. "Dark Temptation. Bet you five bucks it smells like axe body spray."

She's not wrong. You wrinkle your nose as she waves it under your face. "Why does everything 'dark' and 'masculine' smell like a frat house?"

"Because the straights are not okay." Yeji sets it back, wiping her hands on her jeans like the scent might be contagious. "What did Emma say she likes again?"

"Anything except roses." You pause at a display of seasonal scents. "Her roommate burns those generic rose ones from the dollar store. Pretty sure she's traumatized."

"Valid." Yeji's already moved on to the next shelf, picking up random ones and reading their names in increasingly dramatic voices. "Summer's Sweet Embrace. Woodland Mystery. Oh my god, Bachelor's Button? What the fuck is a bachelor's button?"

"It's a flower," you say, distracted by a actually nice-looking sage and cedar one. Still overpriced, but... "My mom used to grow them."

"Sounds fake, but okay."

She’s quiet for a second. Then:

"What about this one?" Yeji holds up a purple candle, squinting at the label. "Lavender Dreams. Sounds pretentious as fuck."

"Put that down before you break it," you mutter, scanning the shelves. The prices are criminal. “And aren't you supposed to be in Art History right now?"

"Professor Wang's doing that thing again where he talks about his divorce for two hours." She shrugs, setting the candle back with surprising care. "I've already heard all about Karen three times this semester."

You roll your eyes, picking up a sage-scented one. And no, you're not lingering in the candle section because you love them, okay? Emma likes candles too. It's completely reasonable research for a birthday gift. Nothing to do with how your apartment could use some—

"These are boring anyway," Yeji declares, already moving on. Her attention snaps to something across the street. Barnes & Noble, its windows displaying the latest bestsellers.

"Wanna check out some books?" she asks, hands stuffed in the pockets of her worn-out grey zip-up. The one she definitely stole from Irya's closet.

"Since when do you read?" You snort, following her out of the candle store. Because you know damn well Yeji's idea of "reading" is skimming SparkNotes twenty minutes before class.

"Woah, judging a book by its cover?" She gestures to her whole aesthetic: combat boots, ripped jeans, that stolen sweater. "Just 'cause I look like this doesn't mean I don't read."

"You told me last week that Romeo and Juliet was, and I quote, 'straight people nonsense.'"

"It is straight people nonsense." She pushes open the bookstore's door, a blast of air conditioning hitting you. "But we need books for the club."

"You mean the chat group you named 'Fuck The Patriarchy Book Club' that's basically just for rambling and complaining?" Like how you ended up here today, victim to Yeji's class-skipping schemes. "That club?"

"Yeah?" She flashes that smile that you’re starting to associate with trouble. "C'mon, I need to check if they have Pride and Prejudice."

You trail after her into Fiction & Literature, past towering shelves and that distinct bookstore smell. "Pride and—hold up. Weren't you just shitting on romance classics?"

"Yeah, and?" She's already scanning the 'A' section with laser focus. "My girl wants to read it, so we're reading it."

"You're buying it because Irya mentioned it once in the group chat."

"And?" Yeji doesn't even pretend to deny it, moving purposefully through the aisles. "My girlfriend has taste. Unlike some people who waste their time reading..." she picks up a random book, "The Art of Corporate Finance."

"That's not even—"

"Found it!" She pulls out a leather-bound edition, definitely not the cheapest version available. "Look at this fancy shit. Irya's gonna love it."

You're about to point out how whipped she is when something catches your eye. A "Now Hiring" sign at the front counter, clean white letters against dark wood. Huh. You've been meaning to look for a job, something to get you out of the apartment more. And to help your finances. too. God knows you’d rather avoid having to ask mom and daddy for more money.

"Earth to Y/N?" Yeji waves a hand in front of your face. "You good?"

"Yeah, just..." You gesture vaguely at the sign.

Working at a bookstore wouldn't be the worst thing. Plus, employee discount.

"Oh shit, you should totally apply." She examines the sign with newfound interest. "Then you can hook me up with discounts on all the books Irya wants."

"I haven't even—"

"Excuse me?" she calls to a passing employee, ignoring your attempt to shut her up. "My friend here wants to apply for the job opening."

You're going to kill her. Slowly. With one of these hardcover books.

But the employee's already turning around—young guy, probably another student, name tag reading 'Mark'—and you can't exactly bolt without looking insane. Perfect. Just perfect.

"Oh, yeah?" Mark brightens. "We're actually pretty desperate for people who can work weekday afternoons. You have any retail experience?"

"I—"

"She's great with books," Yeji cuts in, because apparently she's your agent now. "Like, literally will fight someone over their trash literary takes. You should hear her rant about Hemingway."

You shoot her a death glare, but... well, she's not wrong about Hemingway.

"That's actually perfect," Mark says. "We get a lot of students asking for recommendations. Here—" He heads to the counter, returning with an application form. "You can fill this out now if you want. Manager's still here."

And somehow, because the universe hates you, you end up at one of the reading tables, filling out your work history while Yeji "helps" by suggesting you list your special skills as "roasting bad authors" and "setting pretentious men straight about their Joyce opinions."

Your phone buzzes. Group chat.

6B Hell

Yoongs 🎧: 𝙲𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚙𝚜𝚞𝚕𝚎𝚜? 𝚆𝚎’𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚞𝚝

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚛𝚗

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚙𝚊𝚢𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚔

Yoongs 🎧: 𝙸 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞

Yoongs 🎧: 𝚆𝚎’𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝟷𝟻𝚝𝚑

Yoongs 🎧: 𝙹𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚌𝚞𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚝𝚑𝚡 𝚖𝚊𝚗

You're about to reply that you'll grab some later when another message pops up.

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚙𝚑𝚘𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚡 𝚞𝚛 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝? 𝚞 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖

What the actual fuck?

You: 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜?

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚟𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚘𝚏𝚌

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚝 𝚘𝚗𝚎

You let out a disbelieving sound. Yeji, who's been "helping" by pointing out every minor spelling mistake in your application, peers over your shoulder.

"What's up?"

"My roommate being a jerk as usual." You know for a fact Jungkook's probably sprawled on the couch right now, doing fuck-all except maybe killing brain cells on his PlayStation. But sure, you should get the coffee.

You: 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚢 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚒’𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚝 𝚘𝚗𝚎

You: 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚗𝚘, 𝚒’𝚖 𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚢

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚊𝚠 𝚍𝚘𝚗𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚗𝚒𝚡

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎

Yoongs 🎧: 𝙲𝚊𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚠𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝?

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚙𝚕𝚞𝚜 𝚠𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚑 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚒𝚖 𝚑𝚘𝚝

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚘𝚛 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚞 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚊𝚝 𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚜𝚎?

Your fingers freeze over the keyboard. That asshole.

You: 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗?

You: 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚘𝚏 𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚙𝚑𝚘𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚡

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚠𝚊𝚢. 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚞𝚛 𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢 𝚘𝚞𝚝…

You: 𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚍𝚊𝚖𝚗 𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚢

You: 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝, 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚞𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚎?

Yoongs 🎧: 𝚈/𝙽.

Something about Yoongi’s message makes you pause. That's... weird. But before you can think about it:

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚒𝚖 𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚢

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚘 :)

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚐𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚢𝚊 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠?

"I'm assuming he means video games," Yeji says, still reading. "Not the fun kind of grinding."

You elbow her in the ribs.

You: 𝚔 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝

You: 𝚒𝚖 𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚢 𝚝𝚘𝚘

You: 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚍𝚞𝚕𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚘

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚎? :)

Yoongs 🎧: 𝙹𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚍𝚛𝚘𝚙 𝚒𝚝, 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚑 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞

Yoongs 🎧: 𝙸’𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚕𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚔

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚗𝚊𝚑 𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚕

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚙𝚑𝚘𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚡 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚗𝚒𝚡? ;)

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚟𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚊 𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜?

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚞𝚛 𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 :)

You're going to murder him. You're actually going to commit homicide, and Yoongi's going to have to find a new roommate, and you know what? He'll probably thank you.

You: 𝚛𝚘𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕

You: :)

"So," Yeji says as you aggressively save his number under 'Kuko🖕🏻', "this is fun."

"I hate him so much."

"Uh-huh." She glances at your phone, where he's still sending coffee emoji spam. "You know what this means though, right?"

"That I need better roommates?"

"That you're definitely getting this job." She taps the half-completed application. "Can't spend all your time at the apartment if you're working retail hours."

She... might have a point.

Kuko🖕🏻: 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚍𝚘

Kuko🖕🏻: 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚟𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚜 𝚞 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚋𝚞𝚢

Yoongs 🎧: 𝙸’𝚖 𝚖𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚝

Yoongs 🎧: 𝚈/𝙽, 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛. 𝚆𝚎,𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛.

Your phone buzzes again, but this time it's the other group chat. Thank fuck.

Fuck The Patriarchy Book Club 📚

Irya 🌸: 𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚜?

Irya 🌸: 𝚓𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚌𝚊��𝚙𝚞𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚍𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚎𝚒𝚛𝚍 𝚔𝚎𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗

Jin ☕️: 𝙲𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝.

Jin ☕️: 𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚜.

Jin ☕️: 𝚂𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝟻𝟶𝚔𝚐 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝟻.

Jin ☕️: 𝙶𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚐𝚎.

Your phone keeps vibrating with notifications from the other chat. You peek at it.

Kuko🖕🏻: ☕️

Jesus fucking Christ.

Yeji 🖤: 𝚙𝚒𝚣𝚣𝚊 𝚊𝚝 𝚢/𝚗’𝚜?

Yeji 🖤: 𝚠𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚞𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚎

Your head snaps up. "Excuse me?"

"What?" Yeji doesn't even look guilty. "You keep complaining about him, might as well know what we’re working with here."

You: 𝚋𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘 𝚟𝚘𝚕𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚢 𝚊𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝

You: 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝙺𝙽𝙾𝚆 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗

Irya 🌸: 𝚘𝚘𝚑 𝚢𝚎𝚜!! 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚘𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗??

Irya 🌸: 𝚒 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗

Irya 🌸: 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚓𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎?

You let out a loud sigh, now considering Irya’s question. Because part of you thinks about bringing unwanted guests to the apartment, about how that could disturb the peace, especially for Yoongi.

But also? Also, Jungkook brought his friends last time. No warning, no group chat message to let you know you’d meeting random dudes in your pokemon PJs.

So he can suck it, honestly.

You: 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎

You: 𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚘

Jin ☕️: 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝙹𝚘𝚎’𝚜.

Jin ☕️: 𝙽𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚎.

Jin ☕️: 𝙰𝚕𝚜𝚘, 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚏 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚎𝚍𝚕𝚢 𝚑𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚘𝚛 𝚒𝚝 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗.

Another cascade of coffee emojis floods your notifications. You switch back to the apartment chat.

Kuko🖕🏻: ☕️

Kuko🖕🏻: 𝚙𝚑𝚘𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚡𝚡𝚡𝚡𝚡

Kuko🖕🏻: ☕️

Kuko🖕🏻: 𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚒𝚐𝚗𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛

Kuko🖕🏻: ☕️

Kuko🖕🏻: 𝚒𝚖 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚍𝚒𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚎

Kuko🖕🏻: ☕️

Kuko🖕🏻: 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝟿𝟶% 𝚌𝚊𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚎

Kuko🖕🏻: ☕️

You hit mute so fast you nearly crack your screen.

You: 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚑 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚒𝚣𝚣𝚊 𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚎

You: 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚈𝙾𝚄’𝚁𝙴 𝚋𝚞𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚎𝚓𝚒

Yeji 🖤: 𝚕𝚖𝚊𝚘 𝚗𝚘

Yeji 🖤: 𝚒 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝟻𝟶 𝚋𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚢 𝚊𝚜𝚜 𝚋𝚘𝚘𝚔

Yeji 🖤: 𝚒𝚖 𝙱𝚁𝙾𝙺𝙴 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚔𝚎

Irya 🌸: 𝚋𝚘𝚘𝚔? 𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚎? 👀

Irya 🌸: 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚞𝚢 𝚖𝚎 𝚊 𝚋𝚘𝚘𝚔?!?!?! 💘

Jin ☕️: 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚖𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐.

Jin ☕️: 𝙸’𝚖 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚜.

Yeji 🖤: 𝚜𝚑𝚞𝚝 𝚞𝚙 𝚌𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚢

Yeji 🖤: 𝚐𝚘 𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚣𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 ��𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚜

"So," Yeji says, watching you aggressively fill out the availability section of your application. "Should we warn your roommate about pizza night or...?"

You think about the endless coffee emojis. About how he's probably still spamming them, the notifications piling up in your muted chat.

"Nope."

She grins. "Chaos it is."

You make it to your apartment after what feels like the longest trek ever, juggling the coffee capsules bag and your dignity. And no, you didn't buy them because of him, okay? You bought them because Yoongi deserves his caffeine fix. Yoongi, who actually helped you carry boxes up flights of stairs when you moved in. Yoongi, who warns you when the hot water's acting up. Yoongi, who—unlike some people—doesn't blast music at 3AM.

"Still can't believe you actually bought them," Yeji says for the fifth time, trailing behind you up the stairs. "Like, you're really just gonna enable his bratty ass?"

"They're not for him." You dig through your bag for your keys. "I got the regular ones for Yoongi. The vanilla ones are mine."

"Uh-huh." She's got that look again. "And you got the vanilla ones because...?"

"Because I like vanilla coffee." Your keys jangle aggressively as you search. "Not everything is about him."

"I offered to spike them," she reminds everyone, way too loudly for a hallway. "Could've made it look factory-sealed and everything."

Jimin looks slightly concerned. "Do I want to know why you know how to do that?"

"Probably not," Irya says cheerfully. "But that's why I love her."

You finally locate your keys, jamming them into the lock. It sticks—because of course it does, these old-ass doors—and you have to do that weird wiggle thing to get it open. "The last thing I need is a lawsuit for attempted murder by coffee."

"It wouldn't kill him," Yeji argues. "Just, you know. Mild poisoning. Character building."

"Pretty sure that's still illegal," Jimin says.

"Only if you get caught."

The door finally gives, swinging open to reveal... nobody. The living room's empty, thank fuck. No sign of Yoongi or—more importantly—no sign of him. Maybe they're both out. Maybe you'll actually get through this pizza night without any—

"Yo, this is actually nice," Yeji says, already making herself at home on the couch. "When you said 'bros' cave' I was expecting, like, beer pong tables and stolen street signs."

"Those are in Jungkook's room," you mutter, dropping the coffee bag on the kitchen counter. Not that you've seen his room. You haven't. Obviously.

Irya's examining the vinyl collection by the TV. "These are good albums. Your roommates have taste."

"Those are Yoongi's." Probably. You're like 90% sure they're Yoongi's. You've never actually asked.

"The place is surprisingly clean," Jimin notes, still hovering politely by the door. "Need help with anything?"

"Nah, just—" You pause as something orange streaks past. "Oh, shit, wait—Griffin, no—"

Too late. Your cat roommate's already winding between Jimin's legs, purring like the attention whore he is.

"You have a cat?" Irya drops to her knees immediately. "Oh my god, he's gorgeous."

"He's not mine." You dump your bag on the counter. "He's Jungkook's emotional support menace."

"Like owner, like cat," Yeji says, watching Griffin charm his way into Jimin's arms.

"True." You roll your eyes. "Demanding, dramatic, and constantly in the way."

Griffin headbutts Jimin's shin, purring louder.

"Should I..." He looks uncertain. "Is this okay?"

"Yeah, he does that." You start unpacking the coffee capsules. “He's harmless. Just attention-starved and thinks he owns the place."

"Again," Yeji says, "like owner, like cat."

"Pretty much.”

"At least the cat's cute." She stretches out on the couch, combat boots definitely leaving marks. "Makes up for the personality."

"Tragic how the genes weren't distributed evenly," you mutter, strategizing about how to arrange the coffee capsules in the cabinet. Normal ones for Yoongi, vanilla ones hidden in the back where grabby hands can't reach them.

Irya's still on the floor with Griffin, who's now rolled onto his back. "I don't know, he seems sweet."

"The cat? Yeah." You slam the cabinet open. "The owner? Walking nightmare."

"Speaking of nightmares." Jimin's still by the door, ever polite. "Should we maybe warn him we're having pizza here? Since it's his apartment too..."

You think about the forty-seven coffee emojis still sitting in your muted notifications.

"Nope."

"Absolutely not," Yeji agrees. "He can deal with it like she dealt with having his dudebro friends over last week."

Irya looks up from scratching Griffin's belly. "Oh yeah, didn't you say you ran into them in your—what was it?"

"Pokemon pajamas," you groan. "Look, they were clean, okay? And it was like, Saturday morning. Who has people over at Saturday morning?"

"Douchebags," Yeji supplies helpfully.

You're about to agree when you hear it. A door opening down the hall. Footsteps.

Of-fucking-course.

"You bought the coffee, phoenix?"

The drawl comes from behind you, and you briefly consider whether jail time for murder would really be that bad. Jungkook's leaning against his doorframe in—are those fucking Sonic pajama pants?—looking like he just rolled out of bed. At 7PM. Because of course he did.

"Nice little reunion you got going on here, by the way."

He yawns, running a hand through his messy hair as he saunters into the kitchen. Like this is totally fine. Like having your friends over without warning isn't exactly what he did last week with Hoseok and Taehyung—who, by the way, apparently has keys to your fucking apartment.

You pointedly ignore him, which would work better if he wasn't literally heading straight for you. He reaches around you to rummage through the shopping bags, and you slap his hands away.

“Get out of my stuff."

"Oh," he pulls out the vanilla capsules before you can stop him, "you actually got me the vanilla ones?"

"They're not for you." You snatch them back. "Get your hands off them."

He grabs for them again. "Pretty sure you bought them because—"

"I bought them for me." You yank them away, but he's already going for the other bag. "Oh my god, can you not—"

"So this is the pain in the ass?" Yeji's voice drips with disdain from the couch.

Jungkook quirks an eyebrow, still trying to get his hands on your shopping. "Who's Cruella de Vil over there?"

You elbow him away from the bags. "None of your—"

"Another candle?" He snatches it up, holding it over his head where you can't reach. Dick. "Seriously? After last time?"

"If you'd stop making everything smell like balls and nachos—" You jump for it, but he just stretches higher, "—I wouldn't have to buy them, Rogue."

"I don't smell like—"

"Wait," Irya interrupts, and you catch her hiding a smile behind her hand. "Phoenix?"

"Rogue?" Jimin adds quietly from his corner, looking between you back and forth.

Jungkook's smirk widens as he finally lets you grab the candle back. "Oh, she hasn't told you that story?"

"We are not discussing this again." You shove the candle in its bag. "Ever."

"Why not? It's hilarious." He's fully grinning now, leaning his hip against the counter like he owns it. "Haven't told them about how you almost set the place on fire your first week here?"

"BECAUSE YOU ENTERED THE HOUSE LIKE A FUCKING—" Your hand's fisted in his t-shirt before you can stop yourself, and he's snickering, the absolute dick. "Like a complete psychopath," you finish through gritted teeth.

"The lock sticks!" He's still laughing. "I told you, it's an old door—"

"You didn't have to shoulder it open like the SWAT team!"

"You dropped a lit match!"

"Because you scared the shit out of me!"

"Ugh," Yeji groans. "Is he always like this?"

"Worse," you mutter, finally releasing his shirt. "Usually he's too busy being edgy in his room with his electric guitar."

Irya's definitely smirking now. Jimin looks like he wants to disappear into the wall.

"Whatever, phoenix." He makes another grab for the vanilla capsules. "Rising from the ashes of your attempted arson."

"That's not—" You smack his hand away. "That's not why you started calling me that and you know it."

"Pretty sure it is."

"Pretty sure you're full of shit."

Griffin chooses this moment to abandon Irya and wind between Jungkook's legs, the little traitor. Jungkook immediately scoops him up, and you pretend not to notice how the cat starts purring instantly.

"See?" He scratches under Griffin's chin. "G knows I'm right."

"G's a whore for attention." You start shoving the shopping bags away. "He'd side with Satan if Satan had treats."

"So that's why he likes you."

"You calling me Satan now? Wasn't it phoenix? Pick your poison, dumbass."

"Nah." He's still petting Griffin, who's practically melting in his arms. "Just saying you're both dramatic as fuck."

"Says the guy who kicked down a door over a—"

"The lock was stuck!"

"Yeah? Like your head up your ass?"

“Do you two always do this?” Irya prompts.

"No," you mutter, yanking the coffee bag away as he tries to sneak another grab at it. "When he's not gaming like a twelve-year-old, he's—stop touching my stuff!"

"Just checking what flavor you got," he says innocently, which might work better if he wasn't actively trying to steal the vanilla capsules. "Since you bought them for me and all—"

"I will actually murder you."

"With what? Another candle?"

"Keep talking and find out."

"Children," Yeji interrupts, looking physically pained. "Can we not?"

But Jungkook's already reaching for the bag again, and you swat his hand away. "I swear to god—"

"What? I'm just being neighborly—"

"You're being a pain in the ass—"

"Aw, you noticed?"

"Hard not to when you're—" You break off as he successfully snags a vanilla capsule. "Give that back."

"Make me."

"What are you, five?"

"Says the one hoarding coffee—"

"It's my coffee—"

"Pretty sure you bought it with daddy's credit card—"

The words hit like a slap and before you can think better of it, you snarl, "Fuck you."

Your eyes widen the second it leaves your mouth because you know that look on his face, that slight quirk of his lips, the way he's already—

You slam your hand over his mouth so fast you practically punch him, fingers digging into his jaw. He makes a muffled sound of protest, but you can feel him grinning under your palm, the absolute dick.

"Don't," you hiss. "Don't you fucking dare."

He raises his eyebrows like who, me? but you can feel him trying not to laugh.

"Okay!" Jimin claps his hands together, looking slightly alarmed. "So, pizza? Anyone want to look at the menu?”

“Oooh, that sounds promising.” Jungkook says, yanking your hand away.

"Can't you leave?" You eye him. "Go jack yourself off while you look in the mirror or something. Maybe play your fucking guitar."

"Huhhh?" He's already propping his elbows on the back of the sofa, leaning over the narrow table that ‘separates’ the kitchen from the living room. "I want pizza too. Plus, your friends look nice." His smile is all teeth. "I'm sure they don't mind."

Jimin materializes next to you in the kitchen like some kind of conflict-sensing angel, pretending to be interested in the coffee maker. You know he's checking if you're okay, which would be sweet if you weren't currently fantasizing about drowning Jungkook in vanilla coffee.

"I mind," Yeji announces flatly.

"No problem!" Irya chirps at the same time.

Yeji shoots her girlfriend an exasperated look, but Irya just settles more comfortably against her side. You're going to kill both of them.

"Who's the pink pony over here?" Jungkook nods at Irya, and you see Yeji's arm tighten around her shoulders, hackles practically visible.

"Touch her and die."

"Aww, babe." Irya pats Yeji's thigh. "I'm Irya, and this little black cat over here is my girlfriend Yeji." She points across the room. "That's Jimin."

Jungkook glances back at where you're now aggressively reorganizing coffee capsules, Jimin hovering uncertainly beside you. There's something in his expression you don't like, mouth opening to say god knows what—

"And the third roommate?" Yeji cuts in.

You're about to answer but Jungkook beats you to it. "Yoongi's not here."

"Working late," you add, just to be contrary. "You know, like an actual adult with a job?"

"Unlike some people," Yeji mutters.

You snort at her commentary, and you tune out Jungkook’s comeback. Instead your eyes flicker to Jimin, who’s scrolling through his phone, probably looking at pizza options, when—

"Yo Jim, come here." Jungkook waves him over. "Let me look at the menu."

You grab Jimin's arm before he can move, linking it with yours. "I'm choosing first, wait your damn turn."

Jungkook rises from the sofa with a click of his tongue. "Come on, I just wanna—"

"Did she fucking stutter?" Yeji snaps, and Jungkook actually blinks, like he's not used to being shut down that fast.

You turn back to Jimin's phone with maybe a bit too much satisfaction. "Okay, so what are we thinking?"

"They have this new quattro formaggi that's supposed to be good." Jimin tilts the screen so you can see better. "Or the classic margherita—"

"Boring," you mutter, scrolling past. "Oh, what about the spicy one? With the—"

"The calabrese?" He zooms in on the description. "Spicy salami, fresh basil..."

"That looks good." You're actually getting hungry now. "Maybe we could—"

A shadow falls over the phone as Jungkook appears in front of you like some kind of pizza-seeking missile. He peers over both your lowered heads, close enough that you can feel the heat from his chest, and you resist the urge to elbow him in the ribs.

"Have you two decided?" His breath hits your ear. "Because I—"

You're about to grab a fistful of his hair and yank him back to a respectable distance when he snatches Jimin's phone right out of his hands.

"What the fuck—" You start to reach for him, but Jimin catches your wrist.

"It's okay," he says quietly. "Don't worry about it."

Jungkook's already scrolling, completely unbothered. "Yo, what do you two want?" He nods at the couch without looking up.

"Hawaiian for me," Irya pipes up cheerfully. "Yeji wants the diavola, extra spicy."

Yeji just grumbles something that sounds suspiciously like "men" and turns on the TV.

"Cool, cool." Jungkook's still scrolling. "Phoenix, you getting the calabrese?"

"None of your business."

"Just trying to make sure we don't order the same thing." He glances up with that insufferable smirk. "Unless you want to share?"

"I'd rather eat glass."

"Okay, so that's a no on sharing." He's still scrolling through Jimin's phone like he owns it. "I'm thinking meat lovers."

"Of course you are."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"That you're basic as fuck."

"Says the one getting—" he squints at the screen "—spicy calabrese, like some—"

"Can you two shut up for five minutes?" Yeji snaps from the couch. "Some of us are trying to hear the TV."

"My bad," Jungkook says, not sounding sorry at all. He hands Jimin's phone back—finally—and stretches. "Alright, four pizzas ordered. Now we wait."

You watch him sprawl onto the armchair—the one he keeps arguing it’s his (it’s not?)—like he belongs there, and something about it sets your teeth on edge. The casual way he's inserted himself into your evening, how he's somehow charmed Irya into actual conversation, how he keeps looking at you when he thinks you're not paying attention.

"Whatever, man." You push away from the counter, desperate to get away from his presence for at least two minutes. "I'm gonna get into my PJs, I'll be back."

You head down the hall, your skin prickling like he's watching you go. Which he's not. Obviously. You're just on edge because he's being more insufferable than usual, getting all cozy with your friends like he has any right to—

"Yo, phoenix, wait." Jungkook's voice stops you. "Remember that thing with the landlord? The, uh, maintenance form?"

"What maintenance form?"

"You mentioned to Yoongi about the lock sticking, right?" He's already moving towards you with that easy confidence that makes you want to punch him. "Super's been bitching about proper documentation. Needs your signature since it's your door."

He keeps talking as he approaches, something about liability and repair schedules, and it sounds legitimate enough that you almost miss how he's gradually crowding your space. Almost miss how each step brings him closer until—

He reaches past you, hand brushing your hip as he turns the handle. The door barely has time to click shut before Jungkook’s on you, his whole body crowding into yours, ushering you backward so fast you stumble. Almost fall.

“Jesus—”

Your balance tips, but before you can catch yourself, his hands are already on you—grabbing, steadying, possessive. A solid chest against yours, broad palms locking around your wrists before you can shove him away.

He grins down at you, smirky, flushed, pupils blown. That lazy, cocky amusement dripping from his expression like he planned this. Like he knows exactly what he’s doing.

“Relax, Phoenix.” His grip tightens, pulling your wrists just slightly apart. “You’re fine.”

And then his mouth crashes onto yours.

Hard. Messy. Zero warning, zero hesitation. Just heat and teeth and tongue, urgent like he needs to shut you up.

You match him instantly, kissing back just as fiercely, nails curling into his shirt, yanking him closer. His hair is soft under your fingers, thick and dangerous, and you tug—just the way he likes it. Just the way that always makes him groan, makes him grab.

Which he does. Both hands drop to your ass, full palms, fingers digging in like he can’t help himself. A rough squeeze that pulls a breathy sound from your throat before you can stop it.

He chuckles, low and wrecked against your lips, hips rolling slow and deliberate against yours.

“Fuck—” Another squeeze, his voice dropping. “You get all mouthy with me, and then you act surprised when you turn me on?”

Your stomach flips.

His mouth is still moving against yours, sharp and demanding, and fuck—you’re dizzy, heat curling low and deep.

You don’t realize he’s backing you up until your spine collides with the wardrobe.

You wince. “God, fuck—”

Jungkook barely lets you finish before his teeth graze your jaw, lips dragging lower—

No.

You shove at his chest, breath coming fast. “What is your problem?”

His smirk is instant, panting slightly, lips wrecked. The fucking look in his eyes—smoky, half-lidded, shamelessly pleased with himself.

“Mm?” He tilts his head, like he didn’t just grope the hell out of you. “What?”

“You can’t—” A sharp inhale. You straighten your shirt, glare sharp enough to cut. “My friends are here.”

He blinks. Shrugs. "So?"

"So," you bite out, "we are not doing this."

Jungkook just looks at you, like you’re speaking a foreign language. "Doing what?"

"Don't." You level him with a flat stare.

His head tilts, gaze dragging over you, slow and deliberate. "I just wanted to talk."

"Talk," you repeat, incredulous.

"Yeah." He plants a hand on the wardrobe beside your head. Not caging you in—just existing in your space, like he belongs there. "Privately."

Jesus fuck.

"Nope." You press your palms to his chest, feeling the heat of his skin through cotton. "Not happening."

"Phoenix." His voice dips, lazy and smooth, like he’s humoring you. "I'll be quick."

A disbelieving scoff. "Absolutely the fuck not."

He laughs, quiet and amused, like this is funny to him.

Of course it is. Of course it is.

You shove at his chest again. "They don’t know about this, and they’re not going to know about this."

His brows pull together, expression open, genuinely confused. "Why?"

Oh, you could kill him.

"Because," you grind out, "I don't need them speculating."

"Speculating about what?"

"About us, dumbass!"

The words land—and then he snorts. He just, snorts. Like you just told him a funny joke he lowkey doesn’t want to laugh at.

"Oh, fuck off," you snap.

His grin lingers. "Nix. We fuck. That’s it. No one’s gonna think we’re picking out wedding invitations."

You glare. "You're missing the point."

"I really don't think I am."

"Rogue." You exhale sharply. "I don’t want them in my business, okay?"

He watches you for a beat, head tilted like he’s reading between the lines.

Then he nods. Simple. Easy. "Okay."

You blink. "Okay?"

"Yeah?" He shrugs. "You don’t want them to know, they won’t know. It’s not that deep."

Right. Not that deep.

It shouldn’t be a relief—he’s only agreeing because he doesn’t care—but your shoulders still drop a fraction.

"Good," you say.

He hums, gaze flicking over your face, considering. "I mean, it’s not like you gotta tell them I’m your boyfriend or something. Just that we fuck sometimes. What’s wrong with that?"

You scoff. "Everything is wrong with that, Jungkook."

He raises an eyebrow. "Like what?"

Like—god, where do you start?

Like the fact that this is supposed to be contained, something that stays locked in this apartment and nowhere else. Like the fact that you need to be in control of it because if you’re not, it means it’s spiraling, and spiraling is—

Not an option.

He hums, considering. The vibration shivers over your skin. "Interesting."

The fuck does that mean?

You glare at him. "What?"

"Nothing." But there's a glint in his eye you don't like. Knowing. Assessing. "Just seems like you're overthinking it."

"I'm not—"

"Ashamed?" His head tilts. "Embarrassed?"

Heat crawls up your neck. "Fuck you."

"I mean." A slow drag of his gaze, head to toe and back again. "If you insist..."

Oh my god.

Your foot connects with his shin. Hard. He grunts, flinching back. Good.

"Touch me again," you growl, "and you lose your dick."

He holds up his hands. The picture of innocence. "Message received."

"Is it?" You cross your arms. Narrow your eyes. "Because it seems like you're having trouble understanding basic fucking boundaries."

"Nah, I get it." But there's a wicked glint in his eye, and oh, that can't be good. "No telling your friends about all the filthy things we do."

"There is no we.” You jab a finger at his chest. "No us."

A slow nod. "Right."

"I mean it, Rogue." You hold his gaze, unflinching. "This?" A sharp gesture between your bodies. "Doesn't leave this apartment."

"Mm." His tongue swipes over his bottom lip. Deliberate. Obscene. "So I shouldn't mention how you like it when I—"

Your hand clamps over his mouth, muffling his words. "Finish that sentence and die."

He grins against your palm, wholly unrepentant. Bastard.

You drop your hand. Take a step back. "I'm serious, Ry."

"Oh, I know." But there's a curl to his lips you don't trust. Not one bit.

"Do you?" You cross your arms. "Because it sounds like you're angling for a free pass to run your mouth."

"Nah." He mirrors your posture, arms folding over his chest. “Just getting a feel for the rules."

Right. Sure. "The rules are simple." You hold up a finger. "Rule one: no one knows we're fucking."

A nod. "Easy enough."

"Rule two," you continue, "if anyone asks, we're just roommates."

"Uh-huh." His tongue presses against the inside of his cheek. Considering. "That all?"

Wariness prickles up your spine. "Why?"

A shrug. Too casual. "No reason."

Bullshit.

You shake your head. "Just—forget it. Are we done here?"

Jungkook watches you for another long second.

Then he nods. "Yeah, we're done."

He turns, already reaching for the doorknob, when—

"Oh." A pause. Like he just remembered something. "And just so we're clear—this isn’t exclusive, right?"

You blink. "What?"

He glances back, expression easy. Casual. "Like, I can fuck other people. That cool with you?"

A laugh bursts out of you. Short. Sharp. "Why the fuck would I care?"

His mouth twitches. "Dunno. Just making sure."

"Well, consider it confirmed." You fold your arms. "Do whatever the fuck you want, just—"

He lifts his brows. "Just?"

"Don’t give me an STD." You level him with a flat look.

He snorts. "Noted." A beat. Then, amused— "You want test results?"

"Oh, fuck off, Rogue."

"Just offering, Phoenix." His smirk lingers for half a second before his expression smooths out. "So, rule number three, then."

You narrow your eyes. "Rule what?"

"Rules." He gestures between you. "One: no one knows. Two: if they ask, we're just roommates." A pause. "Three: no feelings."

Something in his voice shifts, something light but pointed, like he's not saying it just for your benefit.

You scoff. "Yeah, no shit."

He nods once, satisfied. "Cool."

And then he's gone, door clicking shut behind him like the whole thing never happened.

The air in the room is suddenly too thick.

You exhale sharply, back hitting the wardrobe, and press your palms over your face.

God damn him.

Not just for being an insufferable pain in your ass, but for being right. Because logically, there's no reason to keep this a secret—he's not your boyfriend, he's just your roommate who happens to fuck you sometimes. It's not a big deal. It's not anything.

But something in you rebels at the thought of anyone knowing. Of having to explain yourself, to justify your choices. You've had enough of that to last a lifetime, enough of measuring every decision against someone else's expectations. Enough of being told what you should want, what you should do, who you should be.

This thing with Jungkook? It's yours. Messy and stupid and probably a horrible idea, but it's yours. The one thing in your life that nobody gets to have an opinion about, that nobody gets to control but you.

And maybe that's fucked up. Maybe normal people don't feel this desperate need to keep parts of themselves hidden, to maintain this iron grip on every aspect of their lives. Maybe they don't lie awake at night planning escape routes from their own decisions.

But you've never been very good at normal, have you?

You straighten, smooth your shirt, school your face into something neutral.

Then you open the door, step back into the living room, and pretend like your world isn’t tilting.

next | index

⋆｡°✩ taglist ✩°｡⋆

@cannotalwaysbenight @livingformintyoongi @itstoastsworld @jimineepaboya @somehowukook @stuti2904 @chloepiccoliniii @kimnamjoonmiddletoe

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kamii-2 · 1 day ago

Note

on my hands and knees for jana smut

hello anon!! i hope u enjoy 😛 sorry it’s highkey bad and not alot of smut but at least i posted, anyway @elalfywhore asked to be tagged so here u go queen

warning(s): smut

genre: smut

pairing(s): jana el alfy x reader

==================================

“it’s too much jana slow down” you moaned, tears starting to build up as she pounded into you, not listening to a single thing you just said. you weren’t sure why she was so worked up but you didn’t care, she was tearing you up so good. “jana, .. oh my God .. , it feels so good” you whined out, tears streaming at this point. “weren’t you just crying about it being too much?” she said, quoting what you said 40 seconds prior. “shut up.” you replied with your eyes squeezed shut and holding back your moans. “what was that?” she asked, pushing the strap in as far as she could. you screamed her name, her hand flying to your mouth.

��you need to be quiet, someone definitely heard you.” she leaned down and whispered, hand still on your mouth. “i don’t care please just let me cum.” you were full on crying now, from pleasure and tiny bit of pain from how deep she’s inside of you. she smirked and continued on, thrusting in at the same pace as before. you were screaming so loud, not caring about anything anymore, tears running down your face, and all you could think about is how good she’s hitting it right now. yours legs start to shake slightly and you felt the knot in your stomach coming undone. with one final moan you squirted on jana’s stomach and strap. “dang i didn’t know it was that good” she laughed while pulling out and taking the strap off. she sat down next to you, grabbing and rubbing your hand softly. just as she was about to speak, she got a text from the team group chat. “bro jana idk what you were doing to her but you need to chill out bc i could hear you from half way down the hall” ice texted, everyone else in the group chat sending crying emojis or agreeing with what ice had said, “yes bro all i heard the moment we got off the elevator to our floor was screaming 😭” kk chimed in.

jana stared at her phone for a second, looking mortified. “what?” you asked while sitting up. “oh this is so embarrassing,” jana said as she covered her face with her hands. “they’re gonna bully me forever.” jana was full on stressing at this point. “welp.” you replied, also scared of how they were going to act. “if they heard us, imagine who else did.” jana said as she quickly turned her heard to look at you. “stop jana you’re making it worse!”

==================================

so sorry this took so long to get out but i hope yall enjoy and i hope you guys have a good day/night, love you 💋💋

#uconn wbb #uconn huskies #uconn women’s basketball #jana el alfy x reader #jana el alfy #wlw #wlw post #smut #kamii-2

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mscherub · 1 day ago

Text

Operation: Kiss the Prefect

Azul Ashengrotto x Reader (Valentine’s Day Special <3)

Reader is gender neutral, referred to as Prefect, Y/N, or Shrimpy(by Floyd)

Tags: Fluff, romance, based off the boat scene in The Little Mermaid, funny

Warnings: Mentions of things in book 3; slight spoilers, spelling mistakes are very likely!

Blurb: Samuel(My Twisted ver. Of Sebastian) and Finn(My Twisted ver. Of Flounder) make up a plan, also including Sully(My Twisted ver. Of Scuttle), to get you and Azul together finally. Things happen and the Tweels find out. Based off the infamous boat scene and song “Kiss the Girl,” in The Little Mermaid :)

Azul is calculated, strong witted in every situation that he could possibly think of, a good trait to have, especially from where he originates. He was prepared with rebuttals and convincing phrases that got any poor unfortunate souls to bend to his whim and agree to his words, which, were always often fabricated, of course for the betterment of his business, don’t you know? Although, he overworks himself, and he rarely pays attention to other things in his life, just business, business, business, and more business, always focusing on it.

And honestly, this just ticked off two of the first year dorm members of Octavinelle. It really did! They watched their Housewarden sketch away at his contracts and focusing solely on money, and they know if they don’t give him a little push then he’ll only know his work for the rest of his life. A little push for what exactly? Well, it’s just so painfully obvious how much Azul likes you, the Prefect. It’s so easy to tell, yet he’s using his work as a distraction to hide his true feelings it seems.

They watch how he stumbles over his words when you talk to him willingly at any given time, fidgeting with the cuffs of his sleeves as he nods along to your words. Of course he tries to plays this off, being all smug about certain topics if he’s well off in them, but the two students could see his inner turmoil, his reluctance to get closer.

Valentine’s Day was right around the corner, so this is the perfect time for Samuel and Finn to put their plan into action. They knew that you, too, also had the hots for Azul (Info heard from Grim who complained loudly after finding out). Sure he tried to rob you of your home, but that was in the past. He mentions you at least once everyday around the dorm, it’s different, especially with how he acts! They’ll use this to their advantage, after all, they did learn from the best.

Now, time to initiate mission: “Kiss the Prefect!” Well, try to, anyways.

Finn sits in Sameuls dorm room on his bed, watching as he writes down key points and factors on a whiteboard, the marker squeaking with each stroke. Samuel pauses and takes a step back, reading over the board before he shakes his head and erases his thoughts away once again

”Give me an idea…something not too cheesy, also something we can trick Azul into.” He sighs as he taps his foot.

Finn scoffs and he lays back on the bed, looking up at the ceiling. “Yea…tricking him? He can see right through anything…also, I don’t know about this plan anymore.” He sits up and he leans back on his hands.

“What if it turns around on us and bites us in the ass like a piranha?” He sighs.

Samuel quirks an eyebrow and he sets his marker down and crosses his arms. “Look, this’d be the perfect thing for us to do. Don’t doubt it. It’s for Azul’s own good, more so ours, but that’s besides the point.”

“You know he’ll go against it if he finds out—“

“He won’t! Finn, we’ll make this plan impossible for him to decipher…the motto of our dorm is to help those who seem in distress…or something like that, whatever— we just need to think a little longer about it is all.” Samuel grabs his marker again and puts down a bullet point. “Give me a few ideas here…”

Finn purses his lips and he looks around the room as he takes the whole thing into consideration. “Ok…how about a boat ride? We tell Azul about the freshman marine biology course Crewel has us going through currently, and that if he helped out the Prefect it’d be a good way to get them indebted to him…is what I would say if Azul would actually consider the idea. There’s no way to get him to get close to the prefect on his own—”

“Ok, no…no, no, no, hold that thought! Finn you are something else…” Samuel hums as he hurriedly writes it down.

“Oh…that’s not— I wasn’t being serious about that.” He gets up from the bed and he walks over, watching the words flow down onto the board.

“No, serious or not, this idea will be good. We just have to figure out how to make it play out right, how to get the prefect on board, too. Azul will take more convincing.” Samuel smiles as he connects lines to other points, drawing arrows.

“Exactly. Getting him to go with the Prefect on his own. That won’t happen, you see how he acts around them, he’s so helpless!” Finn shakes his head, rolling his eyes at the mere thought.

“We’ll make our ‘cause’ sound convincing. And, the Prefect would be more open up to the idea if we told them. ‘Excuse me prefect, Azul offered to take you on a boat ride for the marine biology unit, without having to pay!’ Right? Sounds good? I think so…a little white lie doesn’t hurt.” Samuel draws a boat on the whiteboard.

“The Prefect isn’t stupid, Samuel…”

“Well we can try at least. Cmonnnn, think of some things!” Samuel pouts as his marker stops.

“Slow down…we still have time. A whole week, so…we’ll have plenty of time to get the finer details…just remember we have to avoid the twins…”

Samuel stops writing and he tense up, he sighs and he caps the marker. “We…we can worry about them later. They barley recognize us as apart of the dorm, so I bet they won’t even find out, I guarantee it.”

“They’re creepy…and they find out a lot of things, don’t even try me…” Finn shakes his head.

“Don’t be so scared.” Samuel nudges Finns shoulder with his own and smiles again. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

“We die.”

“Ooook, chill out, that won’t happen.” Samuel sighs, his shoulders slumping as he looks at the other boy in front of him.

“You don’t know that!” Finn huffs.

“Ok…well, time and fate will tell. Who do you wanna deal with? The Prefect or Azul?” Samuel quickly changes the topic.

“Prefect.” Finn nods.

“Ok. Good to know. Then we can base our plan off of that. Get to thinking tonight! Remember, if we get them together then technically we have an advantage over Azul. We helped him score a hot date, so he’ll just have to pay us back.” Samuel smiles, chuckles and walks Finn to the door.

Hey, they’re Octavinelle students, after all.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Some more planning happened over the last few days and it’s finally time to initiate the ultimate plan, first convincing both sides, second, getting both sides to agree, then third, Samuel and Finn being the best wingmen imaginable and receiving the praise and glory, that’s at least what they’re hoping for.

The lounge is…technically closed at the moment, seats are flipped up on tables and the place has been cleansed to a spotless perfection, but more serious matters needed to be tended to.

“Ok, let’s act the scene out. Pretend I’m the prefect, you convinced me to come join you at the lounge for the project, bring up the topic about the unit, and we have to pray the Prefect will complain about it, but I will for the sake of practice. Your lines, ‘yea, I wish I could help you but I’m really busy the rest of the week so I can’t. Maybe ask someone else?’ Right? You got it?” Samuel sighs as he eyes Finn. Finn nods and he clears his throat.

He goes over to the table in the “empty” lounge, and he pulls out the chair for Samuel, then Finn sits down himself.

“Scribble scribble, sounds of fake studying, blah blah blah. And go!” Samuel hums.

“Man, Prefect, this new marine biology unit must be hard for you, huh?”

“Oh myyyy, yes! Totally! Maybe you could help me with it considering your from the coral sea?”

“Unfortunately I can’t. I’m super busy, you know? Over the weekend I have to go back home for a little so I can hang out with my totally real girlfriend, yes.” Finn nods, pursing his lips. “Maybe ask someone else? The twins maybe?”

“Bro, don’t even mention the twins that’ll scare the prefect, oh my seven.” Samuel sighs as he breaks character.

“Ok, sorry, I was just saying random things for the skit…” Finn’s shoulders slump.

Sounds of heels clicking against the ground cause the two to straighten up. They scramble to their feet but it’s already too late for them.

“Hmmmm? Little guppies are in the lounge, heh!” Floyd smirks as he sees the two, his teeth glinting in the dim lights.

“Uhhhh…”

“My, my, Floyd, what do we have here?” Jade chuckles lightly.

“Why are these fuckers up, ahhhhh…” Finn whispers as he inches slowly behind Samuel, which in turn causes him to stumble and glare at Finn as he tries to use him as a shield.

“Have you two failed to read the ‘closed’ sign? I don’t think Azul will fair well with finding out his own dorm members were sneaking in here at such late hours…” Jade sighs, shaking his head as if he is truly disappointed.

“There’s no way to lie our way out of this, huh…” Samuel’s voice is higher pitched and just a small murmur at this point.

“Precisely. Floyd, would you escort them—“

“WE KNOW THE WAY OUT THANK YOU!!!” Finn yelps as he books it to the door, Samuel in sync and a step behind him.

Floyd sighs and he leans back against the wall.

“Did ya hear what they were doing? Either they got some weird fetishes or they’re planning something…” Floyd hums.

“Indeed.” Jade nods.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You sit in class listening to Crewel’s usual small lecture before he sends everyone off to do their own thing. You go with your partner, Finn, and you start to go over the prospective material.

He awkwardly clears his throat, putting a fist to his mouth and looking at you. “So…you, uh, do you wanna come by the lounge later to study just a little more before the exam next Monday? I won’t be here for the rest of the weekend so…if you’d wanna.”

You weigh the option in your mind before you respond with a small nod. “Sure, I think I’m free. I don’t think Crowley has me doing much today, on Fridays he usually has me clean up most the gardens around the school.” You smile.

“I uh…I don’t think that’s something to be normal about— anyways, yea, ok, good.” He gives you a small nod. “Meet me after classes are over, we can walk to Octavinelle. Oh, and make sure you drop Grim off with your friends.”

“Uh, ok, that’s a little odd but sure.” You shrug.

"Uh, Azul implemented a new rule, no pets allowed..."

"Grim isn't a pet, though?"

"Oh, uh...better safe than sorry, oh, look at that, bell rang, see ya later, Prefect!" He hums as the bell rings and he picks up his books before leaving you alone. Grim floats over and puts his hands on his hip, already complaining about trivial topics of the day…

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The lounge’s music is akin to a medley of upbeat Jazz and pop as you sit at a booth with Finn, sadly oblivious to the cards Finn and Samuel were playing to pull the strings so you and Azul would end up together.

Sully, a second year Savanaclaw student, was working in the lounge along with Samuel, having been told about this plan and he insisted on helping because he knew exactly what to do, being well versed in the topic of love, so he says.

“How are you gonna get Azul outa his office, gonna be a bit hard…” the tray in Sully’s hand wobbles as he walks along with Samuel.

“Just wait, will you?” Samuel shakes his head.

“So…Prefect. The marine biology unit…must be hard, huh? You know, since you’re not like from this world or anything and you’re not a mer.” Finn smiles awkwardly.

“It’s not…so bad.” You shrug. “It’s definitely hard but it’s not the end of the world, I’ve been drawn the short stick plenty of times so I’ll make do, though a little help wouldn’t hurt…” you nod thoughtfully. Close enough to what they were hoping you’d say.

“Ah, that’s too bad. I’d offer to help you more after today but I’m gonna be busy, I actually have to go back home…I’m sure someone else here could help. Oh, and Sam’d be busy, too. You have another option as well…but he’s a lil more iffy…” Finn drawls on. He looks back to Azul’s office to see Sully and Samuel acting out a scene, progressing closer to you two.

“Let me guess, Azul? As much as I think we’re on good terms, I don’t know if I should bother him for something like that…it’d be nice, though. And I also don’t exactly have enough credit built up from ordering to have a consultation with him.” You smile as you stir your drink.

Just when the moment goes quiet, the two other members of the team come by, bickering with each other and gaining the interest of the rest of the customers. You glance over at them, and out of the corner of your eye, see Azul standing behind your booth, watching them.

The two stop fighting and they walk away, leaving Azul to linger awkwardly.

“Hey, Azul.” You hum, looking down and hiding your reddened cheeks.

“Hello, Y/N…” he murmurs out

“Hey, Azul! I can’t be here to help tutor them over the weekend so I was thinking maybe you could step in! I’ll work extra hours, I promise, they were telling me how hard the unit was for them—“

“I never said—“

“I was actually gonna take the Prefect out on a boat and show them some of the marine life up close, easier to learn that way!” Finn beams, talking over you.

Azul tenses and he pushes his glasses up, looking at Finn incredulously. “I…I’m busy, I wouldn’t have time.”

“Azul, I think it would be quite beneficial, no? The Prefect would get to learn and you could boast your exponential knowledge of your home.” Jade smiles as he shuffles over silently.

“Yea! Cmon, I bet Shrimpy would love it…” Floyd chimes in.

You sit staring at all of them, and you can’t help but notice a questioning gaze to Finn’s eyes.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

It was the weekend, and the only time you and Azul had free was towards the evening, so, here you are, sat uncomfortably on a small rowboat with Azul. He uses his magic to turn the oars and you pass under trees, the fireflies dancing around on the land in a hypnotizing pattern.

It’s quiet. Too quiet. The tension in the air thick and sickening.

“Ahem…this, this here is a sea turtle…”

“I can tell.” You sigh. You rest your chin in the palm of your hand, gazing at Azul who seems to be out of his comfort zone. It’s weird in a way. He shifts awkwardly and you see him gaze at the crystal blue water with a sense of reluctance.

Both of you blissfully unaware of anything else in the moment, Finn and Samuel are in their merforms, hiding along in the manatee and turtle grass, moving behind the cattails to listen in. This wasn’t going great, they knew they needed to do a little more to set the mood.

“Go time?” Finn asks.

“Go time. Now or never.” Samuel smirks and gives a thumbs up. He whips out his magic pen and he makes flowers nearby bloom, sparkling lights fill the surrounding air, and small, delicate splashes of water pop for an added sound effect.

The boat rocks slightly and with another boost of magic, the vessel is propelled forwards towards some wisteria trees along the edges of the lagoon, the purple strands of flowers reaching down and caressing the water.

Pelicans swoop by and create an opening by moving some of the long strands out of the way and allowing the boat to go on by. Samuel smiles and he slips his magic pen away, going down and grabbing some kelp to use as a baton.

“Finish the rest, Finn. Gotta make sure the wildlife around here can add in some natural music for us.”

Finn swims off with a nod and he swims around the boat, causing various rippled patterns to form on the surface.

“Does marine life usually do this?” You sigh out due out of disbelief, hunching over and looking over the edge. “It’s…oddly sweet in a way, no?” You glance back at him, leaning forwards and scooting to the edge of your seat to be closer.

“This isn’t right.” He crosses his arms, looking around with distaste.

“Oh…Never mind that, then.” You lean back. Great, now the mood was soiled again. Again, Finn just has to give a helpful push, right?

Finn sighs and he gently nudges the boat, rocking it and causing both of you to move closer, your faces merely inches apart. His glasses slip down and he looks surprised to now be so close.

You both blush and Azul quickly straightens up, coughing into his fist and gripping the edge of the boat. “Must’ve been a shark…”

“Maybe…” you murmur, nodding along to his words.

You look back at each other and you can’t help but smile at how stupid he looks. Usually he was a well put together business man, but now? He looks so out of it, stupid with his tinted pink cheeks. You scoot closer again and you fix his hair, tucking a strand behind his ear.

He turns as still as a statue and looks at you with widened eyes. “Ah…”

“Thanks for this whole thing, I guess. I bet it’s not something you really wanted to do, but I appreciate it nonetheless.” You retract your hand. “I’ve learned a good bit, and plus, I get to see this weirdly unnatural but beautiful sight with you.”

No! So close, sooooo close! Finn rolls his eyes and he decides to let the moment play out on its own for now until intervention is needed again.

He nods and he fixes up his uniform tie, looking away. “I agree…afterwards for payment, I’d suggest just working a shift or two at the lounge. Is that acceptable for your schedule?”

“Really?” Finn shakes his head yet again.

“I guess so…thanks, again.”

“It’s nothing, really. This was simply a trifle, don’t worry.” He sighs.

You both lock eyes again and a lightbulb seems to go off. You reach your hands over to his, holding them palm up and offering them to him. He responds and tentatively places his hands in yours.

“Hey…can I maybe tell you something? I just…don’t want to ruin our friendship with what I’m about to say, well, I mean if you even consider us friends, you know?” You sigh, your cheeks bright red at this point as you look down to see fish swimming by.

“Why wouldn’t I consider you that? You’re a great asset to me— I mean…more than that I suppose…” the last part of his sentence is a quiet mutter, his hands tightening around yours.

“Azul, I like you, as crazy as it is to say. I can’t really hide it anymore. I don’t know what it is about you…”

His hands tremble and he purses his lips, looking like he’d literally blow up any second now out of embarrassment, happiness, longing, yearning, relief, who knows…You wait for a response, yet a verbal one never leaves, instead he leans forwards and he intertwines his fingers with yours.

“Are we sealing the deal then? I dunno, sounded like something you’d say.” You smile, which in turn causes him to as well.

You both lean in, your lips centimeters apart and your eyes closed, the sweet ocean breeze and the mix of his cologne filling your senses in the best way imaginable. The moment felt surreal.

Finn giggles quietly and smiles, completely giddy as he watches the romance finally bloom and take off. He gets ready to cheer, but the cute moment is short lived as he watches two long shadows swim by in the water beneath the boat. The boat rocks then tips over, sending you and Azul both into the water.

You pop back up above the water, using your arms and legs to keep you afloat as you take a few gasps of air.

“Azul?” You huff as you look around, swimming over to the more shallow edge of the lagoon.

Azul slowly peeks his head up out of the water, his skin turned to his purple-grey hue which was common in his merform. Your eyes meet his and you relax, moving over to him.

“You ok?”

“Seems so…”

You look at him and you can’t help the bubbles of laughter that escape your mouth from the absurdity of the situation. He ducks down below.

“Hey, ‘zul, I wasn’t laughing at you…”

You take a breath and you move your head below, opening your eyes and looking at him as he sulks. You put a hand on his shoulder and he looks over at your smiling face.

“This was ruined…” the water muffles his voice and you gently tug him up, bobbing back up to the surface with your hand grabbing his arm.

“Say that again?”

“The moment. It was ruined, I wasn’t watching my magic while turning the oars…”

“No. It’s fine! I wasn’t laughing at you, just at us falling in. Geez. Come here.” You wrap your arms around his shoulders and you press a kiss to his lips, a small squeak emanating from his throat as his eyes widen then relax, eventually fluttering closed. He wraps his arms back around you and you can feel his tentacles grip your legs, a subconscious action of his. You both pull away after a moment, stupid fulfilled smiles on your faces.

“Do I still have to work shifts at the lounge for this?”

“I don’t suppose so…consider the kiss to be payment…”

“I’m lucky I didn’t have to sign a contract to kiss you. You’ve come a long way.” You pat his back.

“Really? I didn’t think you’d think of me to stoop that low.” He looks at you with an unamused expression.

Splashing of water can be heard from behind you and you see Jade and Floyd’s heads pop up. Floyd comes up behind you and pries you off of Azul, giving you a big squeeze.

“Awwwwww! Looky! You and Azul are so cute, but me and Jade got bored, took too long.” He giggles.

“And we thought it’d be nice of us to give you a gentle push in the right direction is all.” Jade nods along with his pointer finger and thumb gently grasping his chin.

“Thanks?” You sigh.

“Of course, Shrimpy! Heh!” He holds you tighter and does a small spin in the water. “Don’t get jealous, Azul.” He winks at him.

“You two are insufferable.” He face palms and shakes his head.

“Quite the contrary.” Jade smirks widely.

Finn and Samuel stay off in the distance, heads hung in despair. “How’d they find out?”

“I don’t know. Now they’re taking credit for our idea!”

“It was probably Sully, that loud mouth.” Samuel sighs. “Shouldn’t have let him in on the plan.

“Exactly. Your fault.”

“Mine? Don’t start with me Finn—“

(Finn and Samuel never got the recognition they hoped for…in fact Jade and Floyd got it all. How did they even hear of the plan? After catching them in the lounge the one night they did their own little investigation and discovered their plan…Sully is still blamed by Samuel…justice for Sully, y’all)

AHHHHH! I’m done! I fear I may have lost track like halfway through, but it’s ok…I like how it ended at least. Also you could tell I was getting restless while writing this cause my sentences kept getting shorter…Thanks for reading, my lovelies!

Requests are open if yall have any Valentine’s Day Ideas!

Master List

Please don’t steal or copy any of my work! You may, however, reblog if you’d want to!

Pictures/GIF belongs to Disney but is edited by me :)

Bonus photo that I edited:

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navyiera · 3 days ago

Text

HEAVY;

pairing: caitlyn kiramman x comfort!fem!reader

synopsis:

genre: fluff (bcs she's a sweetheart and people need to know that so ill be posting caitlyn fluff every. single. day until feb ends 🐈‍⬛)

You wake up to an empty bed. The sheets beside you are cool, the absence of warmth making the quiet night feel lonelier. Blinking the sleep from your eyes, you sit up and glance toward the door. A faint glow spills from beneath it, stretching across the darkened floor.

Caitlyn.

Pushing off the blankets, you pad across the room, your socked feet making no sound. The hallway is still, the only sign of life the soft rustling coming from behind the office door. You hesitate for just a moment before twisting the knob and stepping inside.

She doesn’t notice you at first. She’s hunched over her desk, a hand bracing her forehead, the other flipping through a stack of paperwork. The dim desk lamp casts shadows across her face, highlighting the pinch of stress in her brow. There are letters and documents scattered across the floor, a mess that’s so unlike her usual meticulousness.

“Caitlyn,” you murmur, voice still thick with sleep.

She startles slightly, but when she looks up and sees you, her expression softens. “I didn’t mean to wake you,” she says, voice calm but tired. “Go back to bed, love.”

Instead, you cross the room, stepping carefully over the papers until you’re right beside her chair. “You’re working too hard again.”

She sighs, letting her head drop back against the chair for a moment. “It needed to get done.”

You frown and, without hesitation, climb onto her lap, your arms wrapping around her shoulders. She lets out a quiet breath of amusement but doesn’t push you away. Instead, she encircles your waist, her grip firm but gentle.

You nuzzle into her neck, pressing the softest kiss just below her jaw. “You’re always taking care of everything,” you whisper. “Let me take care of you for once.”

Her fingers tighten slightly against your back. “You already do.”

You lean back just enough to cup her face, thumbs brushing lightly over her cheeks. “I mean it,” you insist, looking into her tired but still warm eyes. “You’re incredible. You do so much, and you don’t give yourself enough credit.”

Her gaze flickers with something unreadable, but she doesn’t look away. You kiss her again—her forehead, her cheek, the tip of her nose—until you finally feel her shoulders relax.

“You’re relentless,” she murmurs, but there’s a hint of a smile in her voice now.

You grin, fingers lacing through hers. “And you love me for it.”

She exhales, her forehead pressing against yours. “That, I do.”

After a moment, you slip off her lap and onto the floor, gathering a stack of envelopes in your hands. “Come on. Let me help.”

She watches you for a second before shaking her head fondly. “You’re supposed to be in bed.”

You give her a stubborn pout. “Not without you.”

A chuckle rumbles in her chest as she leans down and tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “Alright, love. Just for a little while.”

You scoot over and Caitlyn exhales, shaking her head as you lean closer against her leg. Her hand drifts to the small of your neck, fingers tracing slow, absentminded circles that make you feel warm and weightless.

“You’re making this very difficult,” she murmurs.

You peek up at her, feigning innocence. “Making what difficult?”

She gives you a pointed look, but there’s no real sternness behind it. “Working.”

You grin, pressing your forehead against her shoulder. “Good. You shouldn’t be working this late anyway.”

Caitlyn hums, neither agreeing nor disagreeing, but she doesn’t make a move to return to the paperwork just yet. You take that as a win.

After a moment, Caitlyn shifts onto the floor, picking up a stack of letters.

“Alright. What’s urgent?” You ask as you eye to huge piles in the ground.

Caitlyn watches you for a beat before sighing and reaching for a few envelopes. “Bills first. Then I need to go through these reports and—”

You wrinkle your nose. “Boring.”

She pinches the bridge of her nose, but you catch the ghost of a smile. “Yes, well, that’s adulthood for you.”

You sort through a few letters, then pause when one catches your eye. “Oh! This one smells like perfume.” You bring it to your nose, dramatically sniffing. “Scandalous.”

Caitlyn leans over, plucking it from your hands. “It’s from an old colleague. She insists on sealing everything with scented wax.”

You drum your fingers on the floor, watching her work. The tired pinch in her brow has softened, her shoulders looser than before. It’s subtle, but you can tell she’s relaxing.

“Do you ever take a break?” you ask after a while.

She doesn’t look up. “Of course I do.”

You frown. “Like an actual break. Not just sitting for five minutes and then finding something else to stress over.”

That makes her pause. Her fingers hesitate on a document, but then she sets it aside, finally meeting your gaze. “I suppose I could be better about that.”

You smile, pleased. “Yes, you could.”

She tilts her head, studying you. “You’re persistent.”

You shrug, stacking another pile neatly. “I just think you deserve to rest.”

She exhales softly, but there’s something tender in her expression. “You’re too good to me.”

You blink, caught off guard by the quiet sincerity of it. Your chest feels light, like a warm breeze has passed through.

“You make it easy,” you say simply.

Caitlyn says nothing, just reaches over and tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear before brushing her knuckles along your cheek. The touch lingers, gentle and grounding.

For a while, you continue sorting together, the night stretching on in peaceful silence. Eventually, as the last letter is placed in its proper pile, Caitlyn leans back with a sigh.

“I think that’s enough for now,” she murmurs.

You glance at the clock. “It was enough an hour ago.”

Caitlyn chuckles, shaking her head, but she stands anyway, offering you her hand. “Bed?”

You take her hand, letting her pull you up. “Bed.”

As soon as the word leaves your lips, Caitlyn tugs you in gently, her hand still wrapped around yours. You barely have time to react before her other hand cradles your face, thumb brushing softly over your cheek.

Then she kisses you.

It’s slow—unhurried, warm, and lingering. She tilts her head just enough to deepen it, her lips moving with quiet intent, as if savoring the moment. The exhaustion in her shoulders melts away under your touch as you lean into her, fingers curling against the front of her shirt.

When she finally pulls back, she rests her forehead against yours, exhaling softly. “Thank you,” she murmurs.

You smile, a little dazed, your heart fluttering in your chest. “You can thank me by actually sleeping.”

Caitlyn chuckles, pressing one last kiss to the corner of your mouth before gently pulling you toward the door. “Come on, then.”

And this time, she follows you to bed without hesitation.

#arcane x female reader #arcane x reader #caitlyn kiramman x female reader #caitlyn kiramman x reader #caitlyn kiramman #caitlyn kiramman x fem reader #caitlyn arcane x reader #arcane fluff #arcane caitlyn x reader #caitlyn fluff #caitlyn kiramman fluff #caitlyn x reader #caitlyn x fem reader

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astnmartn · 3 days ago

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it’s you she’s thinking of (1/?)

pairing: severus snape x fem!reader

summary: reader is friends with the marauders, but after standing up for severus snape, james and sirius ignore them. reader struggles faintly with guilt but knows they did the right thing and try’s to make amends with severus.

notes: 1.6k words!! this is a series I’m committed to finishing rn. trying to get my creativity back slowly but surely. anyway, I hope you enjoy enough to read the coming parts!

You watched as James waved his wand at Severus. You knew it was wrong. Not only that, but you, as well as Remus and Peter knew you should help him. A small crowd formed as James lifted Severus, Sirius, and the crowd shouted awful names at him. “I think that's quite enough James.” Remus puts a hand on James' shoulder.

“No, this is what he gets!” James shrugs Remus off in between laughs. Sighing, you look to Remus as a crowd grows larger. You pull out your wand from your robes. “Expelliarmus!” you shout, wand pointed at James. His wand hits the ground as well as Severus who hits the dirt. The crowd bursts out laughing and James looks at you in disbelief.

You stare back at him. You've never seen him take it this far. You knew he didn't like Severus, and you also didn't know why. But you knew that nobody deserved to be treated like this.

“So you're his friend now?” James raises his voice at you. You shake your head. “No, I'm not. But nobody deserves this, James!” You turn away from him and head toward Severus. You hold out a hand to help him, but he flinches.

“Severus…” you whisper. He gives you a quick glance through his dark hair and quickly gets up by himself. “I don't need your help.” He murmurs angrily and storms up toward the castle.

You move your food around your plate the whole time during dinner. You're currently sitting in front of Remus and Peter at the far end of the Gryffindor table as James and Sirius have shunned you out. Peter and Remus being the saints they are, sat with you.

“Look y/n, you tried, that's all that matters. If Severus wants to be a prick about it, so what?” Peter blurted out. Remus only nods. “You don’t understand… I let it happen. I feel so bad.

I should've told them to stop before it got bad. Truthfully, I didn't know it was this bad.” You sigh.

“You couldn't have known y/n. Don't dwell on it. And eat, you'll feel better.” Remus offers a small smile.

“No, I'm not hungry.” You say pushing your food away. “I'll see you guys tomorrow, okay? Goodnight.” You get up from the table and give them a small wave. Pushing open the doors of the great hall you look back one more time toward the Slytherin table and see Severus staring back at you. He quickly looks away, and you walk toward Gryffindor tower.

The next morning you wait in the common room for your friends to head down for breakfast as always. But today as James and Sirius step out into the common room, they barely spare you a glance and walk down for breakfast by themselves. You sit back down sighing and wait for Peter and Remus. They exit their room and give you sad smiles. “Good-morning.” They mumble. Peter seemed antsy.

“Good Morning. You guys don't have to walk with me if you don't want to. I know they told you not to speak to me.” You sigh, opening the doors to exit the tower. Remus glares at peter. “They did! But we told them no… Of course!” Peter blurts. Remus sighs. “We weren't supposed to tell you.” he confesses, rolling his eyes. You don't respond. Continuing walking down to the great hall.

“It’s okay, really. You can sit with them if you'd like. I don't mind sitting alone.” You say opening the doors to the great hall. You continue walking to the far end of the Gryffindor table. They follow behind you. You sit and they sit across from you. “Y/n listen to us. We want to sit with you. What you did yesterday was very noble. We won't not be your friend just because they told us to. What they did to Severus was wrong. So, we want to sit with you.” Remus exhales. Peter nods.

You take their hands in yours. “Thank you guys. You don't know how much I appreciate it.” You smile. Peter pulls his hands out first. “Now, let's eat. I'm starving.” He says. You all laugh and fill your plates.

After breakfast, the three of you follow the crowd out of the great hall. Remus drops you and peter off at potions before heading off to his first class of the day. A jolly professor slughorn greets the both of you along with the rest of the fifth year Gryffindor and Slytherin. Slughorn instructs you all to follow him to one of the stations. All the students huddle up around the station and watch as Slughorn demonstrates the potion he wants you to make today. It's fairly simple, but you know Peter won’t understand. Potions is not his strongest suit. “Questions?” Slughorn asks.

A small Slytherin girl raises her hand. “Yes, Ms…?” “Pierce.” She smiles. “Will we be working with our desk mates?” “Excellent question Ms. Pierce! No, you will not.” The class sighs. You and Peter both look at each other. You shrug. “Today, you have been assigned random partners! An exceptional way to get to know each other. Perhaps make a new friend!” Slughorn suggests. The Slytherin's groan.

Slughorn chuckles. “You can find out who your partner is up there.” Slughorn points to the chalkboard. The class walks up the board and either sigh or smile at who they got. Most of them have to ask who their partners are. You and Peter are one of the last to take a look at the list and Peter looks pretty put off seeing who he got. You scan the list for your name. Next to yours is Severus Snape.

You look around the room and see Severus already looking at you. You wonder how long he's been doing that. You look away quickly and give Peter a small wave.

Walking toward Severus, you offer him a smile. He doesn't return it. Instead, already walking to claim a station. You quickly follow behind him. You stand opposite him at a station you're sharing with two other Slytherin's. You pull out your potions book and scan the pages for the one you're making. Severus doesn't bother. He ties up his hair and starts setting up the ingredients. You study his face. You don’t understand how James or anyone could insult his looks. You snap out of your thoughts and look around the room, hearing the loud chatter. Even Peter and his partner are speaking. Civilly, unlike the others. “So we're just not going to talk then?” you look at him. Severus hums. “Okay then.” You say with a tight-lipped smile.

You look around again, bored. “Can I at least help you? I know I’m not the best at potion making, and you’d rather work on your own, but I can help.” You exclaimed. The two Slytherin's stifle their laughs. You roll your eyes and wait for his response.

“You're making a scene.” He says. “You can clean up after me. I don’t need to be embarrassed again.” He doesn't look at you. “Great.” You sigh.

The class has finished their potions, and Professor Slughorn is inspecting them. He finally reaches your station and drops a small leaf in. “Merlin's beard! It is absolutely perfect! 5 points to Gryffindor and Slytherin for amazing collaboration.” Slughorn smiles. The class claps and you thank him and smile softly. You try not to look disappointed. You knew you hadn’t earned it, but your house desperately needed the points because of James and Sirius's pranks.

Severus politely thanks Slughorn and goes back to his original desk. You keep your promise of cleaning up after him and clean the small spills and tiny leaves he left behind and put some ingredients back on the shelves. The bell rings and Peter waits for you to finish. You collect your books and head out the door with peter. “All went well I suppose?” You ask. “Terribly well. I'm glad she did most of the work. I probably would have made it explode somehow.” You both laugh.

Remus spots the both of you and walks beside you. You greet each other. You walk Peter and Remus to their respective classes as you have a free period. You say goodbye to Remus and walk around the castle. Turning the corner you spot Severus sitting on a bench in the courtyard alone, book in hand. You have nothing better to do so you walk toward him.

You sit beside him, and he looks up at you. You smile having finally got his attention.

“What could you possibly want y/n?” he murmurs grumpily. “Nothing. Just nowhere to be.” You shrug. “What does that have to do with me?” He responds, trying to look busy with his book.

“I Just wanted to speak to you. Look, Severus… I'm really sorry about James and Sirius. I know I'm not supposed to be apologizing on their behalf, but I feel partially responsible.” Lifting your head to see if he's listening you continue as he pretends he isn’t. “I feel responsible for not having stopped them from doing any of this to you.” You shake your head. “And I'm also sorry for embarrassing you even more by dropping you like that. I haven't been paying much attention in charms. I just wanted to stop him.” You exhale. You turn to look at him, waiting for a response. Severus is staring into the distance. You follow his line of sight and see James and Sirius staring at the both of you, shaking their heads, scoffing and walking away.

Severus sighs as he gets up from his spot on the bench. “Thank you.” He moves his hair out of his face, a polite smile barely gracing his lips. You nod, staying seated on the bench smiling as you watch him walk away.

#severus snape x reader #severus snape x y/n #severus snape fanfiction #severus snape imagine #severus snape #young severus #professor snape #harry potter fanfic #harry potter x reader #hp fanfiction #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #marauders #mauraders era

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moody-alcoholic · 11 hours ago

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Cross My Heart

Part 15 - Special Delivery

Summary: eventual poly141 x reader. Enemies to lovers, mini fic. CW: Death, use of weapons, violence, military inaccuracies. AN: I'm sorry but none of you are ready for the next part...

Previous parts - masterlist - next AO3

Enjoy <3

It feels like every time you walk into a room with them it’s more and more awkward. You feel like eyes are digging into you as you walk over to the table in the room and put the laptop down.

“Give me your boots.” Johnny says coming over to you. Before you even question him you’re already taking them off. “I’ll dry them by the radiators.” You nod, Gaz walks up to you as you open the laptop.

“Can you help her set up a keyword search or something?” Price asks.

“What are you looking for?” Gaz asks, pulling the laptop towards him. You look over at Ghost sticking a cloth into some part of a broken down weapon.

“Here, type in what you want to search for.” He says turning the laptop back to you.

“What should I search for?” You ask the room.

“Try Makarov.” Price asks from the doorway. You type it into the search bar, you have no idea what Gaz has done or how he managed to get it working so quickly. In fact the search part seemed to take the longest. You pull a chair over and sit down clicking through each thing.

“Just some emails, nothing really. They’re talking about the post being shut down.”

“Try missiles.” Gaz says you nod typing it in if you try Arabic first and nothing comes up so you switch to Russian. There’s only one document, you open it and there's a list and pictures of missiles, at the end there’s a link. You click it and it opens to a video.

It’s Makarov, he's talking about something, it looks like he’s in some kind of lab or something. He picks up a vial of something. Everyone but Ghost have moved over to the table now.

“What’s he saying?” Gaz asks.

“He’s talking about a chemical. Those missiles in the garage they’re-” You stop continuing to listen to him. “Chemical bombs, he's using the missile casings to make chemical weapons.”

“If those are empty shells outside, where are the insides?” Johnny asks.

“Probably with Al Qatala.” You say, the video finishes on a freeze frame of Makarovs face. You look up, Ghost has started putting the weapon back together now.

“What kind of chemicals?” Price asks. You go back to the document turning it so Johnny can see, he scans over it for a few seconds.

“That's like white phosphorus.” He says pointing at something. “This is some kind of gas.”

“Like in Urzikstan?” Gaz asks.

“Like Urzikstan?” You ask.

“He had sarin gas. This is different though.” Johnny says you raise an eyebrow looking up at Price who has his arms crossed with a concerned look on his face.

“What do we do now?” Gaz asks.

“We send this to Laswell, let her start looking through it. Tomorrow when we follow them to Makarov we’ll know more.” Price says then moves away from the laptop.

“I can keep looking.” You say moving the laptop back towards you.

“Laswell’s programs are faster, besides we need to get some rest. It’s going to be a long day tomorrow.” He says. You nod pushing the laptop back to Kyle.

…

Everyone wakes before the sun is up. You slept uncomfortably, not because you had no bed and you were basically sleeping on the hard floor. Because Johnny had the building so hot you woke up in a pool of sweat. At least your clothes are dry though, mostly.

“Tea?” Johnny asks, passing you a plastic cup. You yawn taking it from him.

“Carry tea into a warzone with you all the time?” You ask.

“Cause, how would we function without it?” You look over at Gaz sitting next to you, you smile at him.

“No time for a tea break. They could be here any minute.” Price says. You sip the tea anyway; it's sweet and milky not like the kind you’re used to. You get up going over to where all the gear is drying and pick up your vest. It’s still damp but it’s better than being sodden.

You walk over to the window where Ghost and Price are standing.

“When do you think they’ll be here?” You ask, tightening the vest.

“Anytime now.” Ghost says.

“How are we going to follow them without being spotted?” You ask.

“We’ll take the car they left yesterday, if they do see us we’ll hope they think it’s one of them.” Price says. You don’t know if that will work but you trust him.

“When we get there what's the plan?” You ask.

“Haven’t got that far yet.” Price smiles and turns to look back into the room. You raise an eyebrow, Johnny comes up next to you throwing his arm over your shoulders.

“Hey, wanna cozy up with me in the back of the car when we leave?” He says winking at you, you feel heat rushing to your cheeks.

“You’re driving.” Price says smiling. Johnny’s arm leaves your shoulder as he starts to complain. You chuckle going back over to the window.

“C’mon, help me pack. You two keep a lookout.” Price says walking past you. You lean up against the window, looking out at the garages.

“So. What's with the mask?” You ask looking over at Ghost, he turns slightly and crosses his arms looking at you. He doesn’t answer, you frown at him.

“I think it’s cute.” You tease. He scoffs going to look back out the window. “Are you shy or something? You don’t seem shy.”

“I don’t like people knowing what I do.” He says. It’s not really a satisfying answer.

“What, you don’t want people knowing you're military?” You ask. He just lets out a sigh.

“I get it.” You say looking back out the window. “You want to keep work and home life separate. Do you have someone at home waiting for you?”

“No.” He says quickly. “Not anymore.”

You don’t press him any further, it feels like you’ve hit a nerve. You’re not waiting much longer, the sun has only just started to break over the horizon when a truck pulls up to the gate. You all make it outside and climb into the car they hid round the back of the building.

You all wait in silence hearing the garage doors open and close. Johnny doesn’t turn the engine of the car on until you all hear the distant click of the front gates slamming closed. By that point everyone is getting somewhat restless, you’re sat in the back between Ghost and Gaz. Price is in the front with the laptop on his knees.

“Laswell thinks they might be heading to an old cold war base a few hours from the border of Kastovia.” Price says. “Satellite images have been promising and Russia has no troops in that region.”

“And they would have no reason to lie.” You say raising an eyebrow. You shrug when Price looks back at you.

“Let’s move, we don’t want to lose them if we’re wrong.” He says gesturing for Johnny to drive.

…

Price was right, they end up driving into what looks like an old cold war air base. Grass is peaking through the cracked concrete of the runway. The surrounding fence is rusted and collapsed in some places the buildings look rundown and barely functional but you all watch as one of the doors to one of the hangers open and the trucks drive in.

Price orders Johnny to drive round to a forest about a kilometre away from the place and you all get out.

“How can we be sure he’s there?” Gaz asks as he closes the boot of the car.

“He’s there.” Price says confidently.

“What about the others, The Butcher and Khaled?” You ask as you follow them through the trees.

“No, they haven’t been spotted. This is a cold war era building though. Chances are there’s an underground tunnel system they’re hiding in.” Price says.

“That explains why we didn’t see many guards.” Ghost replies.

“Right, besides I don’t think it’s going to be getting in that's the problem.” Price says. You let out a sigh, this feels too easy. It feels like you’re rushing, he’s in that building but like Price said there could be miles of tunnels hidden underneath. He could have a whole army in there just waiting.

You follow them in silence listening to them talk strategies. The plan seems to be to go in as quietly as possible, cut the alarms, locate Makarov and take him out. Then confirm where the bombs and chemicals are so the US and Russia can come in and clear them up.

It was a plan, not one you’re particularly happy with but it’s a plan nonetheless.

“Gaz, Soap. You get in to see if you can find a maintenance room of some kind. Something we can use to tap into their systems.” He hands them the laptop. Gaz takes it then they start making their way down to the building.

You’re all hidden behind something you think was once a barn but now there's a tree growing out of it and it's collapsed on one side. Ghost has binoculars looking around the place, the sun is out and the sky is clear which is way better than the thunderstorm from last night.

“Place is quiet. I don’t like it.” Ghost says after a few seconds.

“Makes our job easier.” Price says. You straighten up when you see the doors of the hanger open again.

“Eye’s up Ghost.”

“I see.” He replies. You squint trying to get a better look, you can’t see anything really from this distance, you wonder if Soap and Gaz are having any better look.

“Shit. That’s Makarov.” Ghost says handing the binoculars over to Price. He brings them up to his eyes. You see a smile on his lips.

“Got you now fucker.” You hear him whisper under his breath as he takes the binoculars down and hands them over to Ghost.

“Update Soap and Gaz. I’ll get Laswell in the loop.” He says before turning to walk away.

“Soap, Gaz. Makarov is heading into the main building.”

“Copy.” You hear Gaz call back. “How’s our way in looking?”

“You’re clear. Watch yourselves.”

“Always.” Soap replies. You turn behind you to see Price talking on a phone. You try to look for them but you can’t see them at all. You watch as Makarov makes it into the building with his entourage.

“We’re in, making our way to the building now.” Gaz says.

“Copy, watch your step, we have no intel you’re going in blind.”

“Copy, won’t be blind for long though.” Gaz whispers. You’re holding your breath, your palms have gone sweaty. You’re nervous, you want to be with them, helping them. What if they get hurt? They know what they’re doing, they’ve been trained for this.

“How’re we looking?” Price asks as he comes back standing next to you.

“We’re in, looking for a maintenance room.” Soap whispers as if on cue.

“Good. Let us know when you have access then we’ll move.” Price says. It feels like you’re waiting forever, the seconds feel like minutes, you find yourself constantly checking your watch.

“Nervous?” Price asks. You look over at him and smile.

“Never.” He smiles back nodding his head.

“We’re in. Looks like Makarov is sitting pretty at the top of the ATC. Can you get a visual Ghost?” You all look up at the tower, you can’t see anything from here.

“Copy. I see him.” Ghost says after a few seconds.

“We can override the security and lock him in there?” Gaz asks.

“Good, do it. Any signs of tunnels?” Price asks.

“Nothing, everything seems to be above ground.” Gaz responds, you look over at Price. It feels too easy.

“How many inside?”

“A few dozen, 30. Maybe 40.” Soap says.

“Civilians?”

“Negative.”

“Stay put, we're coming to you.” Price says tapping Ghost on the shoulder.

It doesn’t take you long to make it to the part of the wall Soap and Gaz made it though. Ghost and Price are faster than they are. More sure in their movements, they handle their weapons in a way you’ve never seen before, its second nature to them. You all slip through a side door and walk into a dimly lit corridor.

“Were in.” Price says. You see Soap stick his head round a corner with his weapon drawn before lowering it. You all walk over to him seeing Gaz kneeled down next to the laptop hooked up to what you assume is some kind of server.

“Gaz, stay here. Guide us, we’ll clear floor by floor. Make sure Makarov doesn't try anything. He’s not getting away this time.” Price says. Gaz nods and the rest of you make it out the room closing the door behind you.

“Which way Gaz?” Price asks as you all stand there looking to him for direction.

“Door to the left will take you through to the main entrance, then right through the double doors will take you into the mess.” Gaz says. “You’re looking at about 15-20 people.” You swallow hard. That’s a lot.

“Are you sure we can take that many people at once?” You ask before you can stop yourself. Soap chuckles and you feel embarrassed.

“We’ve dealt with worse odds. Besides, we have an advantage.” Price says. You frown, shaking your head at him.

“They don’t know we’re here.” Price says, clicking the safely off his weapon and turning to the left.

He was right again. Surprising them was a big advantage. Gaz was good at calling out hazards too. You knew where they were before they could even find you. It felt clinical, maybe you’re used to it now, all the killing. It’s not hard when you’ve done it a few times.

You don’t think about it, you just shoot, shoot them or they will shoot you. You don’t think about if they have a life outside of this. They’re the enemy, they’re making bombs and chemicals to hurt actual innocent people.

“Mess and kitchen are clear. You’ve got people coming from the west side of the building.” Gaz says. You all get into position before the first few soldiers manage to get shots off. You have to duck under a table slipping on something and fall on your ass.

You hear Soap chuckle coming over to you and grab your arm pulling you up.

“Change your mag, I'll cover you.” He says. You nod, pulling the almost empty one out and pressing a new one in. The firing has stopped by the time you’re ready to fire again. You look over at the pile of bodies in the doorway. The room stinks of blood and gunpowder.

You don’t think that is something you can ever get used to.

“Looks like you’re clear.” The last few soldiers are with Makarov. I would hurry if I was you. I had to trigger a security lockdown so they couldn’t leave the ATC tower. He’s trying to override it. I don’t know how long you have.” Gaz explains.

“Copy, we’re moving.” Price says already jogging out the room. When you make it back outside the building you see people coming out of the hangar towards you.

“Go we’ll hold them off!” Soap shouts grabbing your arm to stop you. You nod at him and watch as Ghost and Price run off towards the ATC tower. You fire off shots with Soap, some are hitting, your adrenaline is pumping and your hands are sweaty.

He grabs your arm pulling you to cover behind a roadblock. Now it’s your turn to cover him so he can reload. You look over the block and fire off shots trying your best to make them land. You can’t tell if you’re getting better or not. The last one falls as he gets back up.

“C’mon let's catch up with the others. You watch our six, yeah?” You nod and follow him up the winding stairs of the tower.

You hear an explosion. You both freeze for a second, your eyes meeting before you’re sprinting up the stairs. It takes the wind out of you sprinting up the steps trying to keep up with Soap. By the time you make it to the top you have to brace your hands on your knees and take in lungfuls of air.

When you look back up Soap has gone, the doors to the control room are open. You walk in hearing voices.

“You think you can stop us all Captain?” That has to be Makarov, his thick Russian accent cutting through the air.

“Maybe not. But we’re going to give it a damn good try.” You hear Price say as a shot is fired. You make it round the control panel just in time to see his body flop to the ground.

“Gaz, target down. Where’s the control room in this place?” Price asks as he turns, your eyes meet. There’s something different in them now, you quickly look back down at the body. His eyes look dark, focused. This was personal, you swallow hard, your throat feeling suddenly dry.

“Main building second floor.” Gaz says. You’re already turning to move back down the stairs before them. You feel a shiver up your spine. They got Makarov, they’ve got the weapons, now all they need to do is get the Americans and Russians in here to clear the place out.

It felt weird, like something had changed between you all. Well something had changed, they’ve completed their mission. You feel a shiver run up your spine remembering the cold look in Price’s eyes.

It’s not even over yet Jamal and Khaled, they're both still out there, they’re both probably involved in continuing Makarovs work. He was right, they can’t stop them all.

You make it to the control room first Gaz is leaned over a laptop. The room looks out of place almost like they just slammed a concrete box down in the middle of the building, maybe they did. You had to walk through a set of metal sliding doors to get in.

“Where are the others?” he asks looking over your shoulder, you turn to see no one following you.

“They must have got turned around.” You say.

“I’ll go get them, stay here.” he says. You nod, swinging the weapon off your shoulder and putting it on one of the tables. You hear them before you see them, they must have not been that far behind. You walk over to the door to meet up with them. It slides shut and you step back for a second then step up again. Nothing changes, you frown looking up at the sensor waking your hand.

You sigh, maybe it can only be opened from the other side, you can see them walk into the little room you can only describe as an airlock. This building really is as old as the cold war. When they make it to the door it doesn’t budge.

They look at you confused.

“I don’t know.” You say reaching over to press the red emergency open button, it doesn’t do anything. Suddenly you hear a hiss and a clank, they all turn watching the door behind them slide closed and lock.

An alarm rings out. They look at Gaz who looks down at the laptop, you can see him furiously clicking on the keyboard.

“The whole system’s gone into lockdown.” He says, you see panic on his face. Fuck. Price looks back at you.

“Did you touch anything?” He asks.

“No of course not!” You shout back defensively. Suddenly there’s another hissing, this wasn't like the one in their room. This one sounds different. You look up trying to place it.

“What’s happening?” Price asks. You look round, it’s the vents, a few seconds later a thick smoke starts to seep out of them. It almost immediately makes you gag and cough. You bring your arm hand up to block your nose and mouth.

You look back at Price, now you can see panic on his face.

Fuck.

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makeitworse · 17 hours ago

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he’s not me

˖ ࣪✦ su-bong (thanos) x f reader x dae-ho | nsfw dc, mdni

freshly single, you’re out on the town hunting a rebound from your shitty ex. but did you really think he’d let you get away that easy?

c/w: dark themes! drug addiction, very toxic relationship, violence & abuse, choking, possessiveness, manipulation, dub+noncon, cunnilingus, semi-public unprotected sex, degradation, so much angst a/n: sequel to this (or a standalone). this became so much longer than i intended.. there’s alot going on. i intentionally left the ending open. it’s your choice if they do/don’t eventually get back together

it’s your first night post-freedom from su-bong, and you couldn’t be more eager to sink your teeth into someone new.

you walk the crowded streets under fluorescent lights in the tiniest dress you own. the type you’d keep hidden in the back of your closet: su-bong wouldn’t like it. he’d ask who you think you’re trying to impress. well nevermind him. fuck him.

you spare a wink to every man that you checks you out. you don’t avoid brushing against them, you don’t even flinch when you feel their hand lingering a second too long as you pass by. you’re in need of a distraction tonight, and any man will do.

you float through bars, and the men gravitate to you. you’re not really listening when they tell you about their business or their crypto or all the women they have on speed-dial as if you’re meant to cum on the spot. the lines you did before you left the house had made it impossible to zone out.

you were chucking back any shots that slid your way. you were in a rush to drown out the thoughts of your ex creeping in.

you couldn’t hold glasses too long, else you’d remember the shatters that littered across the floor when he threw them. you couldn’t stare at doors too long, else you’d remember hearing his fist denting the wood and blood marking the spots. you said you were done being with him, and he showed you exactly why.

you take deep breaths to ground yourself. attention from old drunks at the bar was a shitty pre-game; you needed someone who could pound the memories of your ex out of you.

back on the street, you were already wobbling with the weight of all the please-fuck-me drinks they bought you - but who’s counting anyway? you bee-lined to the first place booming with flashing lights and music.

you’re leaning at the bar, squinting through the pulsing LED lights to scan the crowds. your breath hitches as a hand lands on your ass.

you face him, hoping to god it’s not you-know-who, and thank fucking christ it’s not. god, you need him out of your head already. this guy’s not hot enough to do the job though.

you tune him out as he talks your ear off, and you continue to check out the selection. your gaze lands on a man sitting at a table with his back turned to you, hair falling down his neck: nam-gyu?

you really couldn’t tell through all this rainbow flashbanging of the lights.

you watch him turn his head to the side, chatting to the person sitting next to him. his face is full with a warm smile, and focusing through all the music you could just hear the gentleness of his laugh. yeah that’s definitely not nam-gyu. but colour you attracted.

you honed in on him.

the few people around the table took notice of you, and not-nam-gyu turns in his stool to face you. he’s gorgeous.

you hadn’t noticed that his hair was actually half-up in a ponytail. strands fell around his face, and he eyed you curiously with that kind smile. you wanted to sit on it.

“don’t i know you?”

he shakes his head gently, seeming almost disappointed in himself for not recognising you back. you bite your lip and feign trying to put a name to his face.

“oh!” you point to him, “you’re the guy who’s taking me to the dance floor.”

whistles and gibes erupted around the table. he glances to his friends, then shyly back at you. your palm opens for him, and with a friend’s nudge to his shoulder, his hand’s on top of yours.

your fingers weave between each other’s as you lead him to the floor. as you squeeze through the dancing crowd, he plants a careful hand on your back and keeps you close to him, pushing through people first to open the way for you.

he turns to you, and your arms wrap around his shoulders. “what a gentleman.”

he just chuckles, cautiously keeping that singular hand on your back. you can’t say you’re used to such restraint for a man.

“i’m sorry, i haven’t asked your name.”

you coo it to him, pulling him in to press your bodies together. he gasps under his breath.

“dae-ho.” he smiles gently, flustered.

you sway together to the music, quickly progressing to jumping and hands in the air. you’re both giggling through the flashing lights. your cheeks hurt from smiling and your throat’s sore from singing - but you’re moving in sync, moving like you were made for one another.

you already felt a flame flickering in your belly, even with such little words. you’d long forgotten your main objective: now you just wanted to keep basking in dae-ho’s warmth. you wanted to know more than just his name.

you brush the tip of your nose against his and catch his breath come out shallow. your hands slowly drag his own down your back, and he almost resists with uncertainty. but you gaze up at him through half-lidded eyes: irises pools of desire. dae-ho succumbs, and his hands rest on your ass.

you loll your head forward, lips grazing his jaw. his chest falls with a deep exhale.

“i’m sorry, gorgeous. we can’t do anything while you’re in this state.”

you furrow your brow with genuine confusion. he brushes a strand of hair behind your ear in reassurance.

“i promise i want to, but you’re drunker than i am. it’s not right.”

oh. see, your ex wouldn’t have given one singular fuck about that. (there was one particular instance when you were sobbing after a bad trip, and he had the audacity to get hard.)

you cupped dae-hoe’s blushing cheek in your hand. “then can we see in the morning?”

your voice delivered needy. he notices, and sighs. you were a breathing moral dilemma for dae-ho. his first instinct wasn’t just taking what he wants. not like he would have.

“i shouldn’t let you go home alone like this, anyway.”

you smile together. you chuckle together. you want to kiss him. so you do.

but he pulls you away with a gentle hand on your cheek. you pout.

“i’ll make it up to you once you’re thinking clearly.”

a rough hand locks around your arm and snatches you from dae-ho. you knock into his chest and breathe in the smoke clinging to his shirt. you knew exactly who it was before you heard his annoying drawl.

“babygirllll, i’ve been looking for you.” su-bong squishes your cheeks with his hand under your chin, and you writhe in his grip. “you’ve had me so worried.”

dae-ho tensed upon seeing your resistance. “hey!-”

you watch su-bong stare daggers back at dae-ho. “and who the fuck are you?” he juts his jaw, taking a step closer. “huh??”

heads begin turning at his voice raising, with whispers among the crowd recognising him as a rapper. “fuck you think you’re doin’ all up on my girl, bro?”

“su-bong.” you hiss. he cocks his head ever-so-slightly in your direction, like he couldn’t care less about what you have to say. but you knew what he wanted.

“let’s just go.”

his hand lands on your waist, fingers digging in like he’s trying to break the skin. you don’t hide the fact that you wince. he mutters, “there’s my good girl.”

then he’s dragging you through the crowd, and you can’t bear to spare dae-ho a second glance.

su-bong kicks open a backdoor and shoves you out into a dark alleyway filled with dumpsters. he doesn’t spare you any time to observe your surroundings, because he leeches onto your face and invades your mouth with his tongue.

his knee pushes through your legs to dig up into your core. his long arms kept you in place, hold too tight to writhe free from.

su-bong’s touch seared your skin like acid - but it was a familiar sting. comforting even. you almost missed it.

your body submits to him. you kiss him back, you whine into his mouth. just like he wants. you won’t admit it to yourself, but you’re not even fully acting.

once you feel his grip loosen, you knee him in the crotch, shoving him away as he keels over.

su-bong’s groans of pain blends into a low chuckle. “fuck, you tease.”

“take a fucking hint, su-bong! we’re over!”

“mm,” he hums, like he’s not taking you seriously. he steps to you again. you step back. “you know much i need you. i can’t live without my pretty lady.”

“you’re a fucking cockblocker.”

su-bong bites his lip, eyes scanning over your outfit choice. that little dress that revealed a little too much.

“shit, baby,” his palms carelessly roamed all over your curves, ignoring you trying to push them away. “looks like you were just begging for my attention, huh?”

you scoff. “any man’s but yours.”

you catch the twitch of his eyebrow and clench of his jaw. you recognised well the signs of when he was getting ticked off. but you also caught the moment he cleared his head with a sigh. can’t fuck up his big chance now.

su-bong just shakes his head with a smirk.

“tell me, baby. who’d take you in-,” he pinches your chin. “-after they see you’re just a junkie with a pretty face?”

he makes sure to flick his gaze at you, catch the fleeting shame in your eyes. of course he does. he’s revelling in this shit. like he can save you from yourself if you just run into his arms now.

“it’s none of your business who i fuck. we’re not together anymore.”

“right,” he hunches over with a laugh. “and i guess we’ve both quit drugs too, right?”

you didn’t want to keep getting him off by provoking you, but you just couldn’t swallow down the words stinging your throat.

“like you didn’t get me hooked on that shit!” you spat. “fuck you!-”

you blink, and pain radiates all over your back. you blink again, and su-bong’s pressing into you. it takes a third blink to realise he’d shoved you against the alley wall.

it’s not the bruising grip of his hands on your body or his nails digging into your skin that scares you, it’s his piercing gaze. like his eyes are ripping you open.

“don’t.. even tempt me.”

his voice is hoarse, laced with want. need. he’s itching for a fix.

he brings a delicate hand up to caress your face. “i can be good, baby. i promise. i can do better for you this time.”

he’s planting soft kisses on your neck, goosebumps spreading across your skin as he whispers about how much he loves you, everything he’d do for you.

you shut your eyes as tears gloss over them. there used to be a point in time where you would’ve believed him. and maybe he would’ve meant it too.

but now, the love that binded you was replaced by an addiction: not only drugs, but each other.

the highs were full of screams and bruises and hate-sex. and the withdrawals were even worse. you were dying after every dose. you were killing the other, and yourself.

“we bring out the worst in each other, su-bong.”

“then there’s nobody else for us.”

no two people should ever hold the power to hurt each other like you do. you decide then- not even think, just state:

“i’m going clean tomorrow.”

su-bong scoffs. he doesn’t believe you mean it, and you’re not even sure you do.

“so you’re never seeing me again.”

after a beat, his expression turns solemn. he realises you’re not just provoked, you’re not just trying to hurt him- you’re serious.

his eyes trail off, lost in thought. your body braces itself on instinct. you don’t know what he’ll do to you next. but he just meets your gaze, black pupils swallowing his irises in desire.

“then why are you still here?”

and your lips were on his. your teeth clashed together and his nicked at your lip from the haste, but you kept kissing feverishly through the pain. your tongues twisted with each other’s: su-bong was desperate to reach every corner, taste every last bit of you for the last time. one last hit until you quit him cold turkey.

his hands greedily groped at your tits, your hips, your ass - while your own slid underneath his baggy shirt to claw at his back.

he bit at your neck, you scratched at his flesh. you rolled your hips into his, and he thrusted his hard-on back. he crashed his lips onto yours and kissed you like he was starving to eat you alive.

su-bong keeled over with a moan from the back of his throat as you grasped the outline of his dick through his pants, hot and damp with pre-cum.

in turn he pulled the hem of your dress up. you felt the twitch of his cock in your palm when he saw your pussy dripping- no panties.

“you fucking little-”

you forced su-bong down by his shoulders and he fell to his knees.

“shut the fuck up.”

you push him to your cunt and cry out when he latches on with a hot, open mouth.

he’s lapping at you like a dog. you slouch against the wall as your legs go numb, and su-bong crushes a hand around your hamstring to keep you in place for him. his other splits your cunt open with two digits inside, curling recklessly while he sucks your clit.

incoherent curses at him blended together with your whines. any ‘fuck you’ was lost in a moan when he’d pull his fingers in and out to hit your sweet spot.

he knew you were close with the way your voice went hoarse and your thighs clamped around his head - and that’s when the bitch pulled away.

he propped you up against the wall and tugged his waistband down, his cock springing free with a string of pre-cum.

“shit, baby.” he bit his lip and lined himself up with you. he groaned as his tip prodded your cunt. “you sure we’re over?”

“yes we fucking are.”

you moaned in sync when he thrusted in. for a beat, he stayed there, filling you to the hilt. his heaving body had you pushed up against the wall. he was savouring it. he groaned lowly into your ear.

“hurry up.”

your head knocked back into the wall as he snatched your neck into his hand and started slamming his hips into yours.

the throbbing in your crown was drowned out by su-bong abusing your cunt with his impatient pace, ramming into your cervix and eliciting a cry from you with every thrust.

su-bong was fucking you like you’ll drop dead when the clock strikes midnight. and in a way- the version of you that’d let a man fuck you like he hates your guts will.

su-bong stuck his forehead onto yours, beading with sweat. you saw yourself in his eyes: brows knotted, eyes laced with disgust. and his own were fawning over you, lips panting with a smile.

“you make me fucking sick.” you stammer out, feeling the knot undo with every ram of his dick to your sweet spot.

he presses a wet kiss to your lips that you don’t return. “i’m in love with you, baby.”

you unravelled then. su-bong maintained his bruising pace while your walls fluttered around his cock. he bit down onto your shoulder to smother his moans as his hips stuttered inside of you, and he came following yours.

your bodies slouched together. your hair stuck to your skin with sweat, and you thought you saw the dye dripping from su-bong’s ends.

you wish you hadn’t cum when you did. you wish you didn’t give him the satisfaction of that being the magic words. you wish you could tell yourself it wasn’t because of him.

without a second glance, you pulled his dick out of you with a grunt from him. smoothing your dress back down, you bump shoulders with su-bong as you move to leave. his arm shoots out around your waist to halt you.

and you just shove it off of you.

you keep your head forward, and as the door swings open to greet you with the booming club music, the only thought in your mind is to find dae-ho.

empty bottles of wine collected on the floor next to your side of the bed. futile attempts to ignore the scab your brain kept picking at.

it’s been months, and you can’t go a day without scratching at it to see if it still hurts. if you just left it alone, then maybe you’d actually heal.

you thought you saw him. you don’t even really know if you did, or if you just wanted to. a flash of purple hair amongst the club’s crowd had your throat burning with bile.

dae-ho’s arm snug around your waist felt you stiffen up, and he faced you: tears already clumping in your lashes. him taking you back home went without question.

now you were dozing off as dae-ho stroked your hair, half-lidded eyes full of adoration. he drew over the lines of your face with his fingers, his touch so gentle like you’d crack if he wasn’t careful.

if he was more like your ex, he’d try to see how rough you could take before you shattered. and then he’d pick up every piece to put you back together.

you were warm in bed with your boyfriend cooing you to sleep about how much he loves you, but tonight all you could think of is how he could never compare to su-bong.

dae-ho gets up to slide under the cover of his side. you gravitate to his heat, burying your face in his neck. he jumps when you plant a hand on the front of his boxers.

“hey- let’s save that for the morning, okay? after i’ve made you a coffee.” he chuckles.

he kisses your forehead. but for some reason, your skin seared with.. disappointment.

su-bong would have taken full advantage of you in your boozy state. you would’ve been irresistible to him, so well-behaved. so perfect for him.

..does dae-ho not want you?

you don’t even know why, but suddenly you’re sobbing quietly and staining his shirt with tears. and dae-ho’s comforting you, apologising if he said anything wrong, and none of it feels right. it’s just not what su-bong would do. he’s just not him.

su-bong hovers over the faces of girls in the bar crowd till he finds vaguely what he’s looking for. she’s pretty, probably. she looks enough like you from afar.

a little bit of chit-chat, and he’s thrusting up into her against the wall of the grimy restroom. he doesn’t look at her face, he wasn’t listening when she introduced herself. his eyes were screwed shut to keep his mind in the place he wanted. the place he needed to cum. and it slips from his mouth in a moan as he does.

a few seconds of shocked silence pass before the girl’s shoving him and mumbling cusses. “why didn’t you just fuck her then?!” rings out as the door slams behind her.

for months on end he’d been numbing himself with shit he wouldn’t let you touch - and still none of the harder drugs were giving him withdrawals like you leaving. needing you was hardwired into his brain chemistry. and well, you had been far more addicted than he was.

you’ll get bored of that guy. and the ones that follow him, too. but nothing will come close to the high that su-bong gave you.

and you always know where to find home.

#⋆˙⟡ 𝓈u-bong #⋆˙⟡ 𝒹ae-ho #choi su bong x reader #su bong x reader #dae ho x reader #thanos x reader #kang dae ho x reader #player 388 x reader

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littelovelunette · 23 hours ago

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what about a navy! sevika x farmer! reader where the both of them are on the edge of their relationship because sevika won't prioritize her wife because reader wants to start a family before reader eventually goes out to her garden in the middle of the night.

sevika then follows her wife to the garden to she apologies and beg for forgiveness before they eventually got really really breeding kink, praise kink intimate on the grass in the garden in the middle of the night

Little You's, Little Me's, but Janna, Little You's...

Navy! Sevika x Farmer!Reader

Contains smut, angst, breeding, praise kink, lovey sex, impregnation, possible depressed!reader, modern au, Sevika G!P

With the basic supply and demand of fruits and vegetables during spring, you're always on your feet running errands and supplying food.

It gets tiring after a while especially when after a particularly heavy night even when you come back there is no loving wife of yours to greet you, hold you, sleep with you or even have sex with at this point.

Beyond frustration.

And you knew perfectly well this was because Sevika didn't want kids and you did, so whenever you guys would talk now it'd get awkward because of that. When you both met you both had planned out your entire future together but now it all seemed in shambles. The woman you had married, who once said she loved children, didn't anymore.

Your marriage was at an all time low, Sevika was so busy with her work and missions that she was barely even available anymore and it made you so sad.

At the beginning you had thought she was cheating but then you both had a huge fight about it, it's been distant since that one fight.

Today was your anniversary and this was the first anniversary you spent without Sevika, sitting by the staircase in front of the front door, praying to Janna she comes back tonight because you have so much to ask. Does she even love you anymore?

The door clicks at 3 AM and Sevika slips in. She sees you at the staircase and sighs.

"I know I'm sorry." She said her voice nonchalant which made you further mad, she averted her gaze.

"You don't sound sorry," You retorted angrily, "Look at me when I'm talking to you!"

"What do you want me to say?!" Sevika yelled back, her voice booming, making yours seem like a puppy's bark, "I'm not bending backwards and apologising for no shit, you know very well what my job expects of me, and if you can't handle that maybe you should buy yourself some maturity!—"

"All this just because I wanna settle down? I'm not getting any younger, Sev..." Tears appear at your eyes and you say nothing as you stormed upstairs and into your shared bedroom, curling up in bed. You felt miserable now.

You waited for her to come in the bedroom and comfort you but you didn't hear her walking in so after you got up and looked around, the bedroom was still empty. It made you feel even more hopeless than before.

You could hear the faint snoring, Sevika was probably sleeping on the couch. You stayed there curled up in bed, leaning against the bedframe with tears pricking your eyes. You could feel the warmth of the tears falling down your cheek, it's been a while since you've felt any sort of warm anyway.

2 days pass, it's been the same except now you don't even get up to water your garden, nurture the plants. You just stay in your room, eat in your room, sleep in your room and sulk in your room. You wanted to cry, scream and just disappear but you also loved Sevika so immensely that it was eating away at your whole being at this point.

It was late at night and you couldn't hear Sevika snoring from down the hall, usually it was the white noise that helped you sleep but today you didn't even know if she was home.

Body too tired to move from mental exhaustion but you forced yourself out of bed, almost stumbling into the wall as you walked down the hall. Your eyes squinted in the darkness and finally found the doorknob, you opened it and a small gust of wind greeted you. You sighed again, heart heavy, you just wanted Sevika.

You walked outside and sat down on the grass, curling up there.

A while later, you hear the crunching sounds of the grass signalling Sevika either stepped out of the house too and into your garden or some mindless killer had broken into the fencing and would kill you.

Whichever it was, you didn't really care. Still staring into nothingness. You felt the figure kneel down behind you, "Baby," came Sevika's soft voice, "I'm so sorry I shouldn't have said all that."

You turned to look at her, eyes tired, face sunken.

"Love," Sevika gently held the side of your face, "Baby, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean what I said. I'm just scared. I'm being a little bitch but I'm so fucking scared that I won't be able to give my little ones enough time. I already don't give you time and—"

"Mm, it's okay," you said, looking away at the ground.

"No, it's not okay, I'm ready now. I'm sorry for being so cowardly, I couldn't even tell you, I thought you'd assume I'm weak."

"It's okay," you said now cracking a small smile as Sevika leaned in and kissed you, "Mm..." The kiss deepened, your body pressing into hers as you both kissed.

"I'd love to see little you's, little me's running around. Oh but Janna, little you's," Sevika said, her voice a little dreamy before she continued kissing you making you moan a little in her mouth, that gets her immediately hard.

Her hard cock pressing against your clothed sex through her sweatpants but she doesn't stop kissing you. Sevika nips at your jaw, and your neck as she moved lower. Her hands slipping beneath your blouse as she palmed your breasts. She was being soft and slow. Something you've rarely seen during sex.

You tilt your head back giving her better access to continue her ministrations, (I sound like c.ai)

"Doing so well, my baby," Sevika muttered as she tugged her sweat pants down just enough for her massive erect cock to slap up against her stomach, oozing precum.

"Stuff me with your cum," You cooed in her ear which was probably tearing away at any forming hesitations in Sevika's head. She didn't need telling twice when she pushed your panties to the side and penetrated you. Her cock slipping in your slick wet folds with ease, buried snuggly within you.

"You look so beautiful like this, taking my cock so well," Sevika mumbled, she would always go pussy drunk whenever she was inside you mainly because you were so lewdly wet and your pussy was so tight.

Sevika pistoned her hips, pushing deeper into your cunt with each thrust, hands coming down to roll and twist your nipples between thick fingers that didn't hesitate going down your throat too, making you choke and drool.

"S-Sevika..." You whispered and then moaned loudly as she got a little faster.

"That good, yeah, baby? You like it? Want more?" Sevika cooed and you nodded, barely able to make sense out of her words as she thrusted in and out. Your juices coated her shaft completely, you needed more of her.

"Sevika, Sevika," you continued babbling her name and moaning softly with every kiss of her dick to your cervix, it felt far too good.

"Gonna cum in this pretty pussy," Sevika panted out, kissing you deeply. As she gave one ast thrust, you could feel your pussy filling up with her warm semen. Your eyes rolled back at the feeling, she didn't pull out though, she stayed inside for a bit before she slowly pulled out, letting your panties back on your vagina.

"They'll get soaked," you whined.

"I don't care, keep it inside," Sevika kissed you again.

Sevika picked you up bridal style and took you to the bedroom, letting you lay down as she cleaned herself off and then you too, running you a warm bubble bath.

"I'm so sorry for fucking up our anniversary," Sevika leaned in, kissing your forehead and stroking your hair gently as she helped washed your sore body.

"It's okay," you said with a tired smile, "I'm just really sleepy..."

"I know," Sevika gave you a half smile before picking you up, drying you off and putting you in bed, tucking you in. She got in bed too beside you and held you close.

"Soon... We'll have a little human all to ourselves," Sevika thought out loud to herself, looking at your already asleep face, "Sleep well, love."

#arcane #sevika #sevika arcane #sevika my love #arcane sevika #sevika i love you #sevika is my wife #sevika is so much more then a henchman #sevika x reader #wlw #soft sevika #sevika save me #sevika sevika sevika #sevika supremacy #sevika my wife #sevika icons #sevika imagine

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gearsandhammers · 2 days ago

Text

7 MINUTES IN HEAVEN : VITKOR X M!READER

synopsis : it's jayce's birthday, and somehow, you and viktor get shoved into a cramped, dark closet, and you're supposed to do what..?

warnings / tw : no tws except for how i didn't proofread this at all, save for grammarly ig

pairing : viktor x male reader | m/m

author's notes : hi so turns out i get carried away really easily and it's not actually that short but that's a good thing... right? but there is a longer viktor one coming soon i promise!! anyways happy reading and good day/night! xo, kai

You, Viktor, and a bunch of your friends are at Jayce’s birthday party. You're all drunk, having played a lot of drinking games, and you're all pumped with adrenaline.

Your head’s gonna hurt a lot tomorrow, but that’s a problem for future you. Right now, Viktor is being pushed into a closet with you, playing 7 Minutes in Heaven.

"Alrighty, get in there!" Jayce and Sky shove you and Viktor into the closet.

“Man, but it’s dark in there...” you whine.

“I don’t care, you’re going in and you’re gonna like it.” they shove you into the closet, the door shutting behind you, shrouding you and Viktor in darkness.

"So... hi?" you rock back and forth on your heels. You try to force yourself back on the wall, trying not to press up against him, but failing miserably.

"Eh.. hello. So, we are supposed to do... what?" Viktor queries. You can't see him, but you can feel the heat radiating off his face. You can't totally tell if it's from the alcohol or the proximity, but it's probably a mix of both.

"Well, we're technically supposed to make out or something like that, but we can just chat for seven minutes if you wan–" you explain, at least you try to before being so rudely interrupted.

"No, I want to make out." Viktor interrupts you, and you freeze. Your face turns bright red, and even though it's dark, your eyes adjust and he can feel your face get hot.

"W-what?" Your voice cracks, and you hit your chest and cough into your elbow. "I mean, sure, if you want to I'll totally make out with you if you want, I'd love to, it's not like I've been thinking about kissing you for the last two years–" you start to ramble. You found out not very long ago that when you're drunk, you ramble. A lot. But lucky you, Viktor likes interrupting you. And this time, it feels a lot better.

Viktor's lips crash into yours, a wave of relief washing over you like the tides. His cane clatters to the ground and his hands snake into your hair and around your waist, and your movements mimic his. You push yourself flush against him, a stark contrast to earlier. He groans into your mouth as you drive against him, letting you support him as his cane sits on the ground, a fly on the wall.

You lose track of time easily, and at that point, his knees are jelly. Your knee sits in between his, and he's practically sitting on it to keep himself standing. You're this close to tearing his clothes off when the door handle clicks and the door opens, the light spilling into the closet like liquid. You pull away from Viktor, and you both shade your eyes from the light with your hand. Jayce stands in the doorway, peeking in.

"Hey, loveb– oh my gods, you guys are all over each other. Vik, you look..." Jayce gawks.

"S-shut up, Jayce." Viktor retaliates, though not very effectively. You pry yourselves away from each other, and you pick up Viktor's cane and hand it to him as he smoothes his hair down. "Thank you."

You nod as Jayce steps aside to let you and Viktor out. He sits down on the couch, and you sit down on the floor, leaning back on the couch as Caitlyn and Vi are shoved in to replace you and Viktor. You look back up at Viktor, and you motion for him to come closer. He leans down to you.

"You'd better finish what you started. Yours or mine?"

#kaisen writes !#arcane fic #arcane x male reader #viktor x male reader #arcane viktor x male reader #arcane x you #arcane #fanfic #viktor x reader #gn reader #7 minutes in heaven

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esamastation · 3 days ago

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Gamer girl gets transmigrated into a farm boy Chapter 3 [<<Prologue | <Chapter 2 || Chapter 4>>] Ao3 link

Katie had spent literal hours just playing Echo in the tutorial of the Age of Tales, grinding gold out of silver. She'd gotten pretty good at Memory because of it, but, because she's a nerd and maximising her grinding profits was the name of the game, she hadn't just left it up to skill and chance or even game mechanics.

She'd actually researched strategies and how to beat memory games. Because, as it turned out, there's a strategy to Memory.

Queen with four swords kills the king with two of them and spills three cups over the king's sword in mockery…

Echo is a different game in real life, though. Instead of the easy and quick operation of Katie clicking cards on a screen, Van has to physically turn the cards over and do it faster than his opponent. Echo doesn't have turns, being a game of speed as much as memory, and the only rule is that you can only turn two cards at a time. And with his big, clumsy hands, it's a bit of trial and error before he gets the hang of it.

"Sorry," Van grimaces, after almost sending another card flying by accidentally flicking at it.

"It's no issue," Accomo says and smiles. It's not a nice smile. "Just go at your own pace."

Thankfully, it's a beginner game and there's only thirteen pairs in play rather than the full deck, just the cups and swords. Accomo is also playing with beginner settings, it feels like, slowly and methodically turning cards over, seemingly with no care in the world. The first game is pretty much designed to be impossible to lose. It is still the tutorial section, after all.

Which is probably a good thing, because aside from Van being just physically slow, his secret trump card is nowhere to be seen! Speed buff whomst?! The very reason Katie maxed Van's Wisdom in character creation is suddenly inoperable! Time doesn't slow down, doesn't stretch, he doesn't even seem to be thinking any faster than normal.

Those 10 points of Wisdom just do nothing now, it seems.

Van turns over a queen and quickly pairs it with the first card he touched. Then he flips the two of cups, and pairs that one too. It quickly cascades into him knocking down pair after pair until seven out of the thirteen possible pairs sit in a messy stack before him and Accomo leans back.

"Good game, good game," Accomo says and conjures two silver coins from somewhere, placing them over Van's two. "Double your bet?" the gambler then offers.

"Yeah, let's go again," Van agrees, frowning at the cards, barely even warmed up yet.

Like this, doubling the bet every time, it takes 14 games in total to get enough money for a gold bullion bar… in theory, anyway. The first five or so games are easy - after that the opponents start getting progressively faster with each game, until around game 12 they get physically impossible to beat without speed buff accessories - or hacks. Or that is how it was in Age of Tales.

Things are a bit different here.

Accomo speeds up suddenly in game 4, thin-fingered hand snatching cards before Van can, matching pairs at speed. Van is startled, almost enough to falter, but instinct takes over and his moves speed up too, snatching cards and making pairs - and a bigger mess of the game board in general. The game comes to an abrupt finish, with Van holding seven pairs and Accomo six.

The gambler smiles, flashing teeth. "Good game - double your bet?" comes the offer as coin pouch jingles invitingly.

Van narrows his eyes. Not stuck in game settings there, then. Accomo is already going for the win now, and the pile of coins in the table is only sixteen high. Damn. "Yes, please."

The cards are once more shuffled and laid out in rows. They exchange a look, a stiff smile etched on Accomo's thin lips, eyes glinting hard in the shadows of gambler's hood.

Then, at some unheard signal, they begin turning cards over, each on a different side of the board.

King drinks eight cups with the double wielding Jack, with three swords hanging over his head, Van thinks, eyes flashing to the cards Accomo is turning, while across the kingdom two cups were drank for the queen with seven swords with the king -

Accomo's hand moves in a flash and pairs up the kings before Van can.

Van turns over a Jack and matches the pairs.

Accomo gets sevens - Van the twos.

The rest of the game is a scramble to match the last pairs as quickly as possible, hands slapping on cards hard, slamming pairs down forcefully.

Somewhere to the left of him, some regular inn patron chuckles knowingly, watching them.

The loudness and suddenness of it is on purpose. Somehow Van knows - Accomo is trying to shake and rile him up.

Which apparently works because Van loses the game. On game four.

Accomo smiles, eight pairs on his side to Van's five. "That's a game for me," the gambler says smugly and collects the coins from the table with a satisfied air. "Would you like to play again?"

Van narrows his eyes, leaning his elbows on the table between them. His chair creaks ominously. "Yes," he says and puts a single silver coin on the table, pushing it over. "Let's go again."

Accomo is going for the kill now - but that's not all. The gambler is playing to annoy too, it feels like, snatching up cards before Van can, slapping them down loudly. Accomo is also no longer flipping cards in order, either, instead the gambler is taking cards here and there, messing up Van's system of memorisation. Accomo is fast, too, but…

Not as fast as Katie. Van knows she can do better than this - it's just Van's reaction speed holding him back. He just needs to concentrate and ignore Accomo's bullshit. He can do this, Katie has done this a hundred times. Just concentrate.

Jack and queen spar with four blades while the king drinks seven cups…

Accomo suddenly slaps his hand over the card Van was going for next and makes him jump, nearly breaking his concentration - and suddenly Van knows the game the gambler is playing.

Accomo is trying to annoy him and throw him off. Is the gambler trying to start a fight? No - trying to make Van give up and quit quickly.

Because Van is better at Echo.

"Oh-ho," Van hums and then, smiling, pulls his hand back. Two can play this game too, he decides and readies himself, watching the cards.

Accomo throws him a confused look and then, with eyes narrowed in suspicion, continues to turn cards over. The gambler does it quickly, clearly expecting a trick, but taking the bait anyway.

And so, the moment his opponent hits on a card Van has seen before, four of cups, Van lashes out as fast and nimble as he can, and matches the card with the four of swords. It's probably not as impressive as it feels - but it gets him the pair before Accomo can get it. One point to him, hooray.

And then Van pulls back again, not even bothering to turn any cards over anymore, just watching the cards, waiting for Accomo to do it for him.

"Oh, you son of a bitch," Accomo mutters, hesitating.

"What's the matter? You seemed so eager to be the first to flip a card," Van says, grinning. "Go on, at your own pace."

The gambler's eyes narrow. "And what if I don't flip any cards?"

"I guess we'll just sit here and enjoy each other's company," Van answers and offers his hand over the card game. "Hi, I'm Van."

"... Kerly," the gambler answers and shakes his hand before, with a sigh, pulling the hood down. "I don't suppose you'd like to play some Vist instead?"

"I don't, no," Van smiles, taking his opponent in with interest.

The gambler is a woman in her early twenties - which Van had rather expected. Most mysterious hooded people in Age of Tales turn out to be women - or elves. Accomo - or rather, Kerly - is fully human, and a rather pretty one at that, of course, as most women tended to be in the game. She has dark hair cut short, square jaw that makes her look rather fierce, and big dark eyes. With heavy gold loops in her ears and scar on the side of her forehead, she looks a bit like a sexy pirate.

What's most interesting about her is the fact that she's definitely the same NPC as the Westbrook inn gambler in the game - only in the game she never revealed her face… or possessed any semblance of character or personality.

"Are you going to play for real, or are you going to play around some more?" Van asks, curious.

Kerly hesitates and then gives him a calculating look. "Unless you have another game in mind," she says and leans in. "What do you say, big boy, how does a round of Dice sound?"

"Like playing around some more," Van says and leans back, folding his arms - which is an operation and a half because, wow, he can feel his biceps strain his tunic, holy shit. It makes him feel like a badass to give a little smirk as he nods at the table. "How about we finish our game instead?"

"We could play something more interesting, though…" Kerly tries, and Van could swear she actually bats her lashes, maybe even tries to flash a bosom at him. "Maybe in private…?"

Well, she definitely acts like a female character from Age of Tales. If she was a guy, hell, it might've even worked. Alas. "I want to play Echo," Van says and motions to the game sitting unfinished between them. "Or do you only play people you know you're better than? Targeting people you can swindle money from?" He tsks disapprovingly and grins at the reaction it gets.

Kerly leans back with disgust and gives him an annoyed look. "What point is there in playing with someone you know you can't win against?"

"Experience? You could think of it as a learning opportunity," Van offers and arches his brows. "Playing against stronger opponents is how everyone improves, isn't it?"

"Bah," Kerly mutters but looks at the game. She seems to be doing some mental calculations in her head. "Fine, fine - you'll get five games, but no more."

Van clicks his tongue. It's not enough to get him what he wants - with only two coins left to bet, it wouldn't get him even a single gold piece. Van presses his lips together. He wants that gold bar, but failing that he wants as much money as possible, as early as possible. It's kind of doubtful that Kerly even has that much gold on her, but she should have some…

And as a career gambler, she might like the opportunity to get more in the future - and there's clearly a bit of a gap in her education as Lady Luck's Acolyte.

"I have another idea. Say, Kerly," Van says and leans forward. "Would you like to learn the trick of playing Echo?"

"What?" she asks dubiously. "You think you can teach me?"

"I think I can beat you at Echo," Van points out, arching his brows. "There's a trick to it, you know. Wouldn't you like to know what that trick is?"

The gambler thinks about it for a moment. "Your trick might be a fluke," she then says and starts clearing the table, handing him his single silver coin back. "But fine. Let's play a few rounds. I want to see it in action."

"Alright," Van says and places the coin back on the table, with two fellows, betting all he had. Kerly gives him an unimpressed look and Van huffs at her. "I'm not playing for free. Money on the table, sister, or there's no show and tell."

"Show and -? You know that, I don't care," Kerly mutters and matches his bet. "Happy?"

Van smiles and leans forward. "Ecstatic. Now, watch closely."

They begin flipping cards and Van is glad to see that this time Kerly plays normally without any dramatics or sleight of hand, she doesn't even try to outpace him. Van can tell Kerly tries to beat him, but Van still wins that round, and the next one, and the next one, and with an increasing margin as his opponent grows more and more frustrated with her own inability to keep up.

"You play like a damn wizard," Kerly mutters accusingly after another game. "It's a spell - or a memory artefact. Isn't it?"

"Nope, just a memorisation trick. Anyone can learn it." Van promises her and, figuring that demonstration is over, leans back. The backrest of his chair lets out a shrill little creak and Van clears his throat. "So, how about it? How much would that ability be worth to you?"

Kerly considers it, eyeing him suspiciously. "Ten silver," she offers.

"Don't be ridiculous," Van says promptly. "It's worth way more than that."

"Well I'm not paying more than that," the gambler says, folding her arms and leaning back in her chair. "Ten silver, take it or leave it."

Van can just wade through the tutorial side missions and earn that in an afternoon. "Guess I'll leave it, then," he says and begins collecting his winnings. He's turned five silver into only twelve. It's… kind of sad, really. Katie weeps for her sweet sweet exploits. "It was great to meet you, Kerly. Better luck next time, I suppose -"

"Wait, wait -" Kerly sighs before Van can stand up. "Damn it, okay - how much do you want?"

Well. Asking for a gold bar won't get him anywhere and asking for a hundred gold he'll probably just be laughed at. What would be a good price for a money-making lesson? A gambler like Kerly can probably capitalise on it, turning it into hundreds of gold over her career, wherever that would be like…

In hindsight, it's kind of ridiculous that people here bet serious money on what amounts to a children's card game. There's even casinos and game tournaments where Echo is played in this world. Age of Tales is so stupid.

God, Katie loves it.

"Twenty gold pieces," Van decides.

Kerly bursts in derisive laughter. "Now who's being ridiculous?" she asks incredulously. "Twenty gold, in this place? Find me one person in this town with a single gold coin, I dare you."

Van leans in, ready to haggle. "How much do you have, then?"

Going by how long the haggling takes… not much. Kerly refuses to go above fifty silver pieces, only half of a single gold piece, and getting even that much is like pulling teeth. It gets a bit loud and contentious towards the end, and, going by the looks the people in the inn are giving them, like they think Van might be crazy, or just plain dumb…

Yeah, Katie might have a bit of a skewed sense of what money is worth here. Van's final armour cost something like thousand gold bars, which wasn't even a lot of money for endgame Van. That's, what, a couple million times higher than the advance he got for his farm hand salary? That's ah… yeah, a bit of a different scale.

Might be time to readjust his expectations.

"Alright, alright, fine, there," Kelly says viciously and hands him most of her purse. "Now teach me your damn memory trick before I shove these where the light of Gods don't reach." She almost throws the deck at him.

Van grins, quickly puts the money away, then shuffles the deck. "It's quite simple, actually," he says and quickly deals the cards for a game of Echo. "You make a story out of it. Here," he turns the first two cards over. "Okay, the queen and ten of cups. Clearly the queen got herself ten cups of wine. Sounds like a party. But then," he flips the cards back over and flips the next two. "Three swords fell from the ceiling and spilled two of her cups," flip, flip, "and the King saw and lost his shit and grabbed his sword -"

"What the devil are you talking about, man?" Kerly says incredulously. "Queen, king? The high priestess and the emperor, you mean."

"Doesn't flow as easily off the tongue," Van shrugs and looks at her, brows arched. "What was the first card?"

"... The high priestess," Kerly says, eyeing him suspiciously like she, too, thinks he might be dumb. "But anyone would remember that."

"What about the other cards, do you remember those?" Van asks and continues flipping cards. "Now, on the king's rampage five more cups are spilled all over the floor. Then suddenly, more swords appear! Must be the guards - eight guardsmen coming to defend the queen from the king's rage -"

"I want my money back," Kerly says flatly.

Van grins. "No can do, deal;s a deal," he says and flips a card - three cups. "I think we saw a three of swords here somewhere. Do you remember where?" Oops, that might be a bit of Katie's experience as a kindergarten attendant coming through…

Kerly seems to sense it too and with a look of absolute disgust aimed at him, she points at the right card.

"And there you have it," Van says, just barely keeping himself from clapping in congratulation and matches the swords with the cups. "Easy-peasy."

"That's your secret trick - making up stupid fairy tales in your head?" Kerly asks, eyeballing him dubiously like she doesn't just doubt his intellect, but sanity as well.

"Hey, it works," Van shrugs. "Humans are storytellers - we remember narrative better than we remember abstract numbers and symbols. Tell me you don't remember the story of a queen with ten cups of wine and a king going on a rampage - I bet you do."

Kerly is quiet for a moment, her big, beautiful eyes narrowing. Then she considers the cards. "Huh," he then says, irritated. "I'm not sure if that was worth fifty silver coins…"

"Don't knock it till you try it," Van says and quickly gets up to leave before she decides to do something about her disappointment. There's a dagger at her side, and he's still in peasant gear with just a little whittling knife. He is not going to tempt his luck any further. "It works on other things too, you know, not just card games. And a good system of memorisation is always useful."

"Hmm," Kerly says and gives him a more thoughtful look. "Van, was it?" she asks and nods to herself. "I'll remember your name."

Well, that's ominous.

"Right, well. Be seeing you around, Kerly," Van says, sloughing awkwardly to keep hitting the ceiling beams again. "It was nice playing with you."

"Uh-huh. Hey, Van - here," Kerly says and suddenly flicks something at him. "For luck. Thanks for playing. Now, get out of here before I take my money back."

It's a playing card, specifically a joker - which the System helpfully informs him is also an accessory, with a rather useful looking bonus, at that. And, on top of that…

[Quest Game of Wit, Lvl. 1 complete! You gain 20 exp and 1 Lucky Playing Card.]

[Congratulations! You have Levelled up!] Nice. It's not a gold bar… but he'll take it.

[<Chapter 2 || Chapter 4>>]

Proofread by @nimadge, many thanks

- Alas, no infinite money making glitch 😔

#original fiction #isekai #transmigration #Gamer Girl Transmigrates as Farm Boy

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33max · 1 day ago

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if you have the energy can you write about maxy going back to the factory and playing with all his engineer and mechanic friends?? i think he would be wild on the plane ride over with daddy, he's so excited!!! happy flappies running through the factory looking for his friends 🥰

I accidently wrote 3250 words and I'm not even sure it is what you asked for… and it is so far from perfect and not really edited 🤭 but I hope you like it anyway!

“Ready, Max?” Daniel says as he hauls both his and Max’s bags from the bedroom and into the living room.

Max is sitting on the sofa playing a game on his iPad, he’s been obsessed with it recently and can sit for nearly an hour making burgers for the tiny little customers on the screen. It’s a great distraction for when Daniel really needs to get some things done, like today, when he had to pack their bags to spend a week at the factory in Milton Keynes.

“Yesh,” Max says around his binkie, he’s feeling extra small today and hasn’t taken the binkie out for anything other than the snack that Daniel gave him earlier.

Max serves one last customer before handing the iPad to Daniel to pack in Max’s backpack. It has all of the things Max might need on the plane to make the journey a little smoother, like his noise-cancelling headphones and his fidget squishy.

“Let’s go then!” Daniel says, holding his hand out for Max to take. It does mean he has to carry two backpacks on his back and two suitcases in his right hand. Better that than Max trip down the stairs. He’s not as dexterous when he’s like this.

Max has Mr Roar’s paw in one hand and Daniel’s hand in the other, and as they walk carefully down the stairs Max chatters away about seeing a big pirate ship from the balcony that morning, apparently it had a monkey on the flag and a huge crate of bananas spilling out over the deck.

The parking garage is in the basement of their building, and it’s usually very quiet as it is only for residents of their building, but as they open the door to the garage somebody revs the engine of their stupidly loud sports car making Max whine and bury his face into Daniel’s shoulder. His hands come up to cover his ears and he starts sucking on his binkie at a much faster pace than before.

“It’s okay, Maxy,” Daniel says, putting their bags on the floor to properly comfort Max. His boy doesn’t like loud noises and needs Daniel’s hands covering his ears as well as his own. “They’re leaving now, look, there they go. Say bye to the loud McLaren!”

“Bye,” Max says as the car drives out of the parking garage. His face is in a little pout and he is not happy. “Naughty car.”

Daniel tries not to laugh. Big Max would be appreciative of that noise, he would probably moan directly in Daniel’s ear about the sound of the engine, but not Little Max. Little Max’s ears are more sensitive.

The car is parked close by. Daniel has decided to take the Audi. It’s bigger, comfier for Max, and more inconspicuous with the fully tinted windows.

They got the windows blacked out a few months ago because Daniel could not stand the idea of the paparazzi getting their hands on photos of Max like this. It made him feel sick to the stomach. His anxiety even reached a point where he did not want to take Max out when he was little, he didn’t want Max’s sweet face all over social media for the world to see.

It was actually GP who had suggested they do this, and it has made a world of difference. Daniel doesn’t worry about taking Max out in the car anymore.

“Can you get in while Daddy puts the bags in the boot, Bud?” Daniel asks, trying to get Max to help him out a bit, but Max shakes his head and stays attached to Daniel’s side while he loads their gear.

Max is not feeling very independent today. It’s fine, they sometimes have days like this when Max won’t want to leave Daniel’s side. Daniel suspects that will change once he realises where they are going, anyway. Max knows they are going to the factory for the first time this year, but he hasn’t quite realised what that means yet.

He hasn’t realised who else will be at the factory with them and Daniel can’t wait to see Max’s reaction. His boy has really missed the team over the winter break, perhaps even more than he did last year.

There have been a few times this winter when Max has woken up from a nap and waddled over to Daniel in tears because he misses his friends. Especially Uncle Jeep.

“Let’s get you strapped in, Baby,” Daniel says, opening the passenger door to the RS6 and encouraging Max to climb in. Max does, but he climbs in knees first and then has to awkwardly twist until he’s sat properly on the seat.

“Good boy,” Daniel praises, grabbing the straps of the seatbelt to buckle Max in. They have a six-point harness-style seatbelt in the passenger seat for Max.

It’s perhaps overkill, Daniel knows. But there was one time before they had the harness fitted that Maxy had very inconspicuously taken the normal seatbelt off of his shoulder without Daniel realising. The moment Daniel had to brake at a red light Max’s head had almost bonked the dashboard. Daniel had yelled out of fright. Max had cried because of the yelling. It was a whole thing, and so within a week, Daniel had the harness fitted.

“All done,” Daniel says, kissing Max’s soft tummy where the buckle sits.

“Thank you,” Max says politely. It sounds like tank yoo around his binkie and Daniel can’t help but smile at how adorable that is.

The drive to the airport is fairly uneventful. It’s only half an hour but the car lulls Max to sleep before they are even out of Monaco and Daniel ends up listening to an audiobook of Roald Dhal’s The BFG all by himself.

“Baby,” Daniel whispers when they arrive, stroking Max’s cheek to try and wake him up.

Max whines. Turning his head away. His cheeks are flushed with sleep and he’s clearly not wanting to wake up.

“Baby,” Daniel tries again, stroking a hand through Max’s hair this time. “It’s time to get on the plane.”

Max doesn’t even whine this time, he’s fast asleep.

Daniel subscribes to the idea that if a little does not wake up naturally with careful rousing, then they must need the sleep, and there is absolutely no way Daniel is going to pull Max out of a deep sleep just to get him onto the plane.

The perk of owning a private jet is that they can often drive straight up to the hangar where the plane is, with no reason to even enter the airport. So, Daniel can carry his boy all of twenty metres.

He climbs out of the car and signals one of the crew to grab their bags. The jet has three regular crew members, a pilot, a copilot, and a steward.

“Sorry to ask you to do that,” Daniel says to one of the crew members, his name is Adam and he is the copilot, Maxy loves Adam because he keeps the fridge stocked full of strawberry Frubes.

Adam waves him off as he grabs the bags from the boot. “It’s fine. Is the little man sleeping?”

“I’m pretty sure a hurricane could hit and he wouldn’t wake up..”

“We’re expecting some minor turbulence just after take off,” Adam tells him. “Sorry, Danny, but you’re going to need to get him into one of the seats. We need everyone buckled in today.”

Shit. Daniel was hoping to transfer Max directly onto the bed. Max has an entire room at the back of the plane for his little self, filled with plushies and toys and slightly more soundproofed than the rest of the plane. It is where they usually go when Max is small.

“Damn,” Daniel says as he unbuckles Max and lifts him out of the car, making sure that Mr Roar is tucked between them. He rests Max’s head on his shoulder and then encourages Max to wrap his legs around Daniel’s waist. It comes second nature to them both after all these years. They’ve done this more times than they could count.

Max stirs a little as Daniel climbs the stairs to the jet, but doesn’t wake up, even when Daniel gently places him in one of the chairs. Daniel reclines the chair and grabs some blankets, trying his best to make it as comfortable as Max’s bed would be. Luckily, Max still doesn’t wake up.

“Morning,” Suzanna whispers as she makes her way through the plane. She’s their steward and she absolutely dotes on Max. “Can I get you anything? Do you want me to make a bottle for when he wakes up?”

“That would be great actually, yeah.”

“I’ll make it now so you have it ready for take off. Did Adam let you know we are expecting some turbulence?”

“He did. Hopefully, Max will sleep through it, you know how he gets when it gets a bit bumpy.”

Max is terrified of turbulence when he’s small. He sobs and screams as the plane bounces around. Daniel suspects that this is something Big Max is afraid of too but just will not admit.

It’s not long before Suzanna brings Daniel a bottle for Max, and then they’re taxi-ing down the runway.

Daniel keeps an eye on Max during take-off, looking out for any signs that Max might wake up, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t even wake up when the plane starts to bounce around in the turbulence that Adam and Suzanna warned them about, which Daniel is very grateful for.

In fact, Max sleeps through most of the flight, only waking up when there are around twenty minutes until they land at the private airfield outside of Milton Keynes.

“Hello,” Daniel says gently, unbuckling his seatbelt and sliding out of his seat to knee in front of Max’s. “Did you have a nice sleep, baby?”

Max nods, finding Mr Roar in his lap and cuddling him tight. His cheeks are so pink and his hair is sticking up at all angles. It’s adorable.

“Do you want a bottle?” Daniel asks, grabbing the one that Suzanna made from the warmer.

Max nods again, yawning so wide that his binkie falls into his lap.

“Here you go,” Daniel takes the lid off of the bottle and hands it to Max. Sometimes when he’s sleepy Max will insist that Daniel holds the bottle, but today he takes it himself, holding it up to his own mouth to drink.

“Good boy,” Daniel tells him, stroking a hand through Max’s hair. “You’ve been such a good boy, Maxy.”

Max smiles around the nipple of his bottle. He loves being called a good boy.

“Yes, yes you are,” Daniel says, reaching a hand out to tickle Max’s tummy.

The final descent into Cranfield is uneventful. Max finishes his bottle and Daniel texts GP to let him know they’ve nearly arrived.

Daniel cannot wait to see Max’s face when he realises who is coming to pick them up from the airport.

“Have a good day, Maxy!” Susanna says as she waves them off of the plane. “See you soon!”

“Bye-bye, Suzieanna,” Max says, giving her a quick snuggle before following Daniel down the stairs and off of the plane.

“Careful, Max,” Daniel says, as he tries to guide Max down the steps. “Gentle feet and safe body, remember?”

Max nods, carefully watching where he steps. Putting one foot in front of the other and making sure he doesn’t slip on the wet metal stairs. He’s too busy watching his feet to notice who is standing about twenty metres away, leaning up against the side of a black BMW SUV.

Daniel flashes GP a smile. Any second now…

Only when Max’s feet are firmly back on solid ground does he look up and spot Gianpiero. Then the next thing they know Max has let go of Daniel’s hand and is running full pelt towards the man, Mr Roar swinging in the wind as they run.

“Jeep! Jeep!” Max shouts excitedly.

“Hello,” GP says, holding his arms out for Max to leap into before hoisting the little onto his hip. He holds Max close, spinning him around, and kissing the top of his head. “Missed you.”

“Missed you too, Jeepy! Every day! I missed you big!”

“You missed me big?” GP laughs, “How big?”

As Daniel is walking towards the pair he sees Max start to wriggle on GP’s hip and yell, “Oh no! Jeepy put down, put down!”

GP puts the boy down immediately. “What’s wrong, baby?”

“Daddy! Help!” Max says, panicked, looking back towards Daniel. Max has dropped Mr Roar to the ground and is pulling at the front of his sweatpants frantically. “Excited wee!”

Oh shit. Max is dropped younger than usual and Daniel let him sleep for a few hours, gave him a bottle, and then let him sprint full pelt at GP in excitement. Of course, he’s nearing an accident.

Daniel starts to run towards them, but before he makes it even a few metres, GP has stepped in for him.

The older man quickly turns Max to face the car, stands behind him, and shimmies his sweatpants down – enough for Max to let go up against the rear tyre of his car.

“There you go,” GP says, “Nothing to worry about.”

GP quickly picks up Mr Roar and cradles him under one arm before Max realises his plushie fell.

This is why Daniel trusts GP with Max, he springs into action when Max needs it. He doesn’t automatically look to Daniel to sort Max out when there is no time. He trusts his instincts and acts, Daniel wonders if it’s something to do with how well he knows Max from all the years of being his race engineer, or if it is just a GP thing. Always ready to prevent the next disaster.

“Sorry, Jeepy.” Max sniffles as he pees.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” GP tells Max firmly as Daniel finally reaches the pair. There is no room for disagreement in GP’s voice, he will defend Max even when Max is being hard on himself.

“Is that better, Max?” Daniel asks, placing a comforting hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Daddy’s so sorry that he didn’t check if you needed the bathroom before we got off the plane.”

“Yeah,” Max says as he finishes, looking up at Daniel sheepishly. “Feels better now.”

Daniel inspects the damage, only a tiny leak on Max’s underwear, GP had stepped in just in time. The underwear will dry and Daniel can get Max changed as soon as they reach the factory, so he pulls both Max’s underwear and sweatpants back up.

“Let’s get you in the car,” Daniel says, opening the back door and helping Max climb into the back seat. There’s a six-point harness belt in the backseat. GP had it installed over the summer break when he took Max on a couple of days out while Daniel was in the US for work.

Daniel is once again thankful for the race engineer’s presence in Max’s life and how much he cares. Not just when he’s big, but when Max is like this too.

Daniel kisses Max on the tummy, where the harness is buckled, and then he closes the door. Leaning up against it for a couple of seconds before turning around to face GP.

“Thanks for that,” He tells GP, as they shake hands in greeting. “He’s dropped pretty small today, I probably should have seen that one coming to be honest…”

GP waves his hand in the air, brushing it off. “It happens.”

“Jeepy is driving us to the park!” Max announces as they climb into the car, he’s flapping his hands excitedly. A sure sign that he’s happy. It makes Daniel chuckle, Max has a habit of saying things that he wants to do, rather than what they are actually doing.

“Jeepy is driving us to the factory, Max,” Daniel corrects, looking in the rearview mirror at the boy.

“Yeah. And the park.” Max nods, “Jeepy always takes me to the park, Daddy.”

“We like the park, don’t we, Max?” GP says and Max hmm’s in agreement. “Maybe tomorrow we can go.”

Max is looking around the back seat, patting himself down, and Daniel knows what he’s looking for. Mr Roar and a binkie.

But he’s not the only one who notices what Max needs.

“Here,” GP hands the boy his plushie, at the exact same time that Daniel says “Here,” and hands Max his binkie.

“Tanks,” Max giggles, taking both items.

It is not lost on Daniel how in tune with Max’s needs GP is.

When they arrive at the factory, the first thing that Daniel does is usher Max into the bathroom to change his clothes. He wrestles the excited little into some soft navy blue sweatpants and a plain white t-shirt, his usual factory attire.

And then it’s chaos.

As soon as Max is dressed he is darting for the bathroom door to make an escape into the factory.

“Maxy, safe body!” Daniel shouts after him, trying to remind the little to slow down a little.

It’s no use. Max is running straight at Calum, who must have been going out for a cigarette, arms flapping in excitement as he squeals in happiness at the mechanic.

“Look who it is!” Calum laughs, catching Max before throwing him a foot into the air and catching him again. It never ceases to amaze Daniel how strong the mechanics are, lifting Max up like he weighs nothing.

“Missed you, Cal!” Max tells him through giggles, “Throw me again! Throw me again!”

Calum does. Again. And again. Until Max is out of breath from giggling so hard and Calum places him back down on his feet.

“Take me!” Max demands a cheeky smile on his face.

“Max…” Daniel interjects, trying to remind Maxy that manners are important.

“Take you where?” Calum asks, confused.

“Hannah! Pedals! Jon! Paul!” Max says, taking Calum’s hand and tugging him towards the offices. “Jeep!!!”

“Jeep is parking the car, baby,” Daniel reminds him. The older man had dropped them at the entrance, the best place for an excited boy, before heading over to the parking lot.

“I can take him to see everyone,” Calum says to Daniel. “If that’s ok with you? I’ll take him to see everyone while you go and see the big man.”

Daniel does have a meeting with Christian to get to, and it is important for the team that everyone gets time with Max like this. When he’s small and innocent and so happy to see everyone.

“That would be great,” Daniel smiles. It’s easy to watch Max interacting with the guys, and Daniel knows that they are safe here. From judgment, but also from prying eyes.

As he watches Calum walk Max towards the back offices, he hears Max ask “Where’s Jonathon?” and his heart clenches a little bit. He has tried explaining to Max that Adrian and Jonathon will not be around as much this year, but that they will be there during the race weekends, and they still love him very much. But it’s hard to know how much of it Max actually understands when he is like this.

“Jonathon is coming in this afternoon just to see you, Buddy,” Calum says, voice getting quieter the further away the duo get. “He wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

#writing #red bull turkey dinosaurs au #unremarkableyaks

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cakerybakery · 24 hours ago

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Dinner was going well. Charlie was a bit surprised. Since Lucifer came to live at the hotel and Adam revived almost six months ago, nearly every meal had been a battlefield.

Alastor picking a fight with Lucifer. Lucifer and Adam at each other’s throats. And that was on top of various dramas involving overlords and sinners.

But things were settling down.

Even when Alastor was trying to get under Lucifer’s skin, Adam seemed to have taken over calming things down. If calming things down meant, telling Alastor to quiet his ass up and for Lucifer to sit his ass back down, then interrupting Alastor every time he tried to make an excuse with a, “kid, I told you to shut up.” Alastor usually vanished after that.

Alastor had left for the night when Adam asked for someone to please pass the salt.

Lucifer handed it to Charlie, “please pass this to your mother, would you, darling?”

“Sure— what did you say?” Charlie blinked as several people started to choke on their drinks or food.

“ADAM!” Lucifer gave a hysterical fake laugh. “Slip of the tongue! I forgot for a moment, we— that. It’s I— Adam! Help me out here.”

“Fuck, no!” Adam wheezed between laughs. “You’re on your own, daddy.” He teased.

Lucifer shot Adam a dirty look as Husk tried to dislodge a piece of chicken from Angel’s throat.

“You might as well tell her.” Adam said still trying to get his breath back.

“Tell me what?” Charlie asked, glaring accusingly at Lucifer, who still fumbled over his words.

“It’s— well. Uhhh. Charlie, darling.”

Charlie pulled away as Lucifer reach for her hand. “Don’t tell me you two are dating.” She wanted to be supportive but that set Adam off again and the colour drained from Lucifer’s cheek marks.

“NO!” Lucifer glared at Adam. “I was going to tell her when I was ready! Asshole.”

“Seriously. Tell me what?”

Lucifer reached for her again but pulled away and fiddled with his cuffs instead. “The divorce is finalized. We signed the paperwork this morning. I’ve been a little distracted, thinking about your mother. Adam had been helping me the last few weeks to get up the nerve to sign everything.”

Adam winked and shot her a finger gun. “Not my first divorce. Been married and divorced six times now. Figured helping him rip the bandage off would net me some of those good karma points or whatever.”

“Oh.” That was all? She knew this was coming. Lilith took off all those years ago and Charlie often told herself Lilith was doing something important, but there had been all the fights, and her mom stormed out, and the divorce papers in the mail.

She knew. But her heart kind of hurt anyway. Things were never going back to normal. To how they had been when she was a kid.

“That’s good news!” She did her best to put on a happy face. “You guys weren’t happy anymore. It’s better than being miserable together.” She tried to remember some of the “So your parents are getting divorced, Champ” pamphlets she’d read when the divorce papers first showed up.

Stuff like, ‘It’s not your fault mommy and daddy aren’t together,’ didn’t seem applicable right now, but, “Sometimes people just grow apart, Dad. And it’s better if you two can move on and find happiness again.”

“You’re taking this better than I thought.” Lucifer smiled softly at her.

“Told you.” Adam had settled back in the eat his food. “She a tough kid. You did a good job with her.”

Lucifer flushed gold. “I—uh, thank you?”

“No problem.”

Dinner settled back down and Adam got his salt, getting plenty of ribbing about Lucifer slip of the tongue in.

Charlie started to clear the table, it was her turn that night, and Adam and Lucifer gave her thanks before leaving and looking closer than they used to be.

“Daddy up for a movie?” Adam teased, jostling Lucifer’s shoulder as they left.

Lucifer snorted. “You’re not going to let that go are you?”

“Never.”

“Turn about is fairplay, mommy.”

She could hear them as they went down the hall.

“Bitch, you think that bothers me? I’m too awesome to care. Now answer the question.”

“Depends on if mommy wants to watch that crappy Titanic movie again or something good.” Lucifer teased.

Adam faked a gasp. “That movie is a classic! It’s cinematic perfection!”

They wandered too far for Charlie to hear anymore of their conversation. But it left her wondering. She shouldn’t assume, but it seemed funny to her that it took someone new in her father’s life for him to move past the divorce at last. Maybe they were just friends.

…

But the mommy/daddy thing was weird, right?

#hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel charlie #adamsapple #adam x lucifer #guitarduck

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joelalorian · 2 days ago

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Under False Pretenses - Chapter Seven

Stepdad!Dave York x f!reader | wc: 3715 | masterlist

Summary: A challenging mission, whirlwind marriage, and an unexpected yet captivating stepdaughter push Dave York to the brink as secrets, feelings, and loyalties collide.

Warnings: Explicit, 18+ mdni. Stepdad trope. Unspecified age gap. Soft, sexy, and intense Dave. Domestic Dave. Good Dad kink. We like thick thighs in this house and so does Dave. Nicknames and terms of endearment. Mummy is a whole lotta bitch. No use of y/n. Lots of cursing, talk of sex toys, and a bj.

a/n: This chapter features a prompt from @yxtkiwiyxt's Never Have I Ever challenge. The prompt was Never have I ever been to an adult store. I've added a little bit of context to the beginning of this chapter so it can conceivably be read as a standalone, but just makes more sense if reading the larger story. Hope you enjoy!

Series Masterlist

Chapter Seven

Now that Dave had a taste, he was quickly becoming addicted to you. He couldn’t stay away, sneaking down to the basement to spend time with you after Lisa went to bed, coming and going from his office more often than usual, using the private entrance from the garage to enter the house rather than the main entrance. Anything and everything he did was designed to set eyes – or hands – on you more frequently.

However, in front of your mom, he still played the role of faithful, if not loving spouse. It pained him more each day to do so, but he had to be to maintain appearances. There was still too much at stake.

He didn’t miss the pained look that crossed your face sometimes when you’d come up to the kitchen in the mornings to find him seated at the table with your mom and the girls like the perfect little family. Or when Lisa would put her hands on him, trying to snuggle into his side or putting her head on his shoulder while he sat on the couch. It never lasted long, that look on your face or the touches from Lisa since he always pulled away, but the effects lingered.

It hurt Dave for you to see those things, the look on your face, when you did, tore at his heart, knowing how you felt. It was a necessary evil, though, and he convinced himself it was okay because you never asked any questions about his marriage to your mom. You avoided the topic altogether, which suited Dave just fine. He couldn’t have told you the truth anyway. Not yet.

Christmas was particularly difficult, Lisa making a big fuss over him to the point he thought she was putting on a show to make you uncomfortable. All it did was make Dave really uncomfortable. He spoiled the girls, getting them everything on their wish lists and then some. His gifts to your mom were practical and simple, much to her disappointment. He knew you heard their raised voices later that day as she reamed him for the thoughtless gifts.

Dave didn’t give a shit. His mind was focused on you, on making sure the gifts he gave you were perfect. He had two sets – one consisting of candles to give in front of Lisa and the girls and the real, special one to give you in private. He gave you his heart on a string, basically – a necklace with a heart-shaped diamond, which you loved.

Still, he felt like it wasn’t enough, not for what you meant to him, for the ever-deepening feelings he had for you.

That’s why he doted on you whenever he could, playing any silly game you insisted on while sharing a bottle of wine or mimosas on the basement couch after your mom and the girls were asleep. Tonight, for example, the two of you sat facing each other on the cushy furniture, eyes glassy with laughter and a bit of a buzz from the delicious mimosas in your hands, as you declared the latest game.

“Let’s play Never Have I Ever!”

Dave groaned, but he couldn’t deny you, not with how cute and happy you looked, sitting cross-legged on the couch, torso leaning back against the armrest with a half-full glass in your hand. You were incandescent in that moment, smile brighter than the full moon outside, and Dave could do nothing but grin back at you.

“Fine,” he caved, mind whirring for the most salacious topic he could think of. He wanted to make you squirm, but he needed a moment to come up with something. “You first.”

One finger tapping against your pretty lips, you hummed in thought. Smile widening across your face, eyebrows raising excitedly, you settled on something. “Never have I ever… gone to an adult store.”

Dave’s brow shot upwards, surprised by that confession. He had, several times, and took a sip of the bubbling citrusy cocktail, his eyes never leaving yours. Despite his surprise, your question led him to one of his own, something he was certain you wouldn’t have done. Not if you’d never even visited an adult store.

Leaning forward eagerly, you watched his throat bob as he swallowed, pupils dilating prettily. Tempted as he was to kiss you right then, Dave eyed you smugly instead, awaiting your reaction to what he was about to say. “Never have I ever… used a vibrating cock ring.”

Your mouth dropped open comically as you stared wide-eyed at him, causing Dave to chuckle darkly. Fuck, how he’d like to try one out with you. He nearly choked when you gathered yourself and took a sip of your mimosa, sending a cheeky wink at him.

“Wait, what?” His brain could not compute.

Giggling at his reaction, you shrugged. “What? I may have never set foot in an adult store, but I’ve tried a toy or two before.”

“Fuck,” Dave breathed, a surge of unexpected jealousy sweeping through him at the thought of you trying out toys with any other man.

“Color me surprised you’ve never used one,” you teased. “A man of your experience?”

A crease formed between his eyes as he pouted at you. “Are you implying that I’m old?”

Again, you giggled, the sound warming his insides. He loved making you laugh. “No! I just thought with two marriages under your belt, you’d probably done a lot, tried all the toys, or whatever.”

Dave couldn’t help the frown that made its home on his face, torn between wanting to tell you everything and nothing at all about those marriages. You softened at the sight, reaching across the space between you to caress the line between his brows. “I’m not judging, promise. I’m just surprised. Your cock would look amazing with one wrapped around the base.”

He couldn’t speak with that visual in his head, the blood flowing south stole his ability to form words, and you added in a suddenly shy voice, “Maybe we could go to the store and pick one out to try together?”

Fuck, he loved that idea. Visions of the two of you choosing sex toys together, and then going home to try them out washed over him, taking over every thought in his head. His cock, already half hard from the pleasant buzz of champagne and his proximity to you, was fully hard now, pushing against the confines of his boxer briefs.

Your eyes, wide and full of salacious thoughts of your own, darted downwards to take in the bulge in his sweatpants becoming ever more visible. The tip of your pink tongue darted out, gliding against your bottom lip as you stared, and Dave felt his cock twitch in anticipation.

The electricity between you sparked, but he wasn’t quite ready to give into it yet – the build-up was as fun as the grand finale.

“What else have you never tried?” Dave asked, his voice deep and raspy, cutting the air like lightning.

Arousal was clear in your gaze as you bit your bottom lip in thought. “I’ve always wanted to wake up to someone balls deep inside me. Like, when I’m lying on my stomach, you know?”

“Holy fuck,” Dave muttered. The need, the want, became too much and he yanked you closer until you sat in his lap. Playful conversation turned to kissing and before either of you knew it, you slid to the floor and were on your knees for him.

You gave him the blow job of a lifetime that night. He never spurted that much cum before – so much it filled your mouth and dribbled over your chin. The sight of you with his cum on your beautiful face caused two more ropes to spill from his cock, painting your chest as you leaned back to swallow and catch your breath.

He fell harder in love with you as you stared up at him all blissful and doe-eyed while still on your knees for him.

“Honey?” your mom called as she walked through the front door. The way her voice simpered, you knew she was calling for Dave, not you. She’d been switching back and forth from ignoring your presence to nagging the hell out of you lately. You preferred the former, for obvious reasons.

He grimaced, glancing at you from his spot at the breakfast bar while you helped Alice and Molly with a puzzle on the dining table. With a sigh, he called back, “Yeah?”

Entering the room with a broad smile and a card in her hand, she sidled up to her husband. “Roger and Mary invited us to a last-minute New Year’s Eve party at their house tonight.” Her long, red nails scratched down his back, catching in the fabric of his shirt and you turned away with an uncomfortable shudder. “They invited all of us, though I suspect it will be only you and me by midnight. You wouldn’t want the girls staying out that late.”

She looked at you then, flashing a knowing smirk. “Since you’re obviously not doing anything tonight, you can keep an eye on the girls at the party and bring them home early so Dave and I can enjoy ourselves.”

“Lisa,” Dave sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “That’s not necess—"

You cut him off, your hackles up from your mom’s attitude. “Excuse me?” She wasn’t wrong, but that wasn’t the point. Of course, you would watch them, for Dave’s sake, not your mother’s. But would it kill the bitch to ask instead of assuming?

Looking at you like you were an idiot, your mom spoke slowly, obnoxiously, as she approached the table. “The girls. Alice and Molly, do you remember them?” She gestured toward the wide-eyed little girls like you weren’t sitting right fucking next to them. “You’ll make sure they don’t get into trouble at the party while Dave and I are busy socializing.”

You wanted to slap her smug face but you swallowed the violent urge and settled on irritation instead. “Right, because I clearly have no life outside of this house.”

Lisa smirked again, patting your cheek like you were a fucking child. “Glad we’re on the same page.”

Sometimes you fucking hated that woman. The things you would say if the girls weren’t sitting right there watching everything unfold.

Dave’s eyes locked onto yours, his gaze soft as he jumped in to distract your mother so you could calm down from the rage building inside you. Your mom reached for new levels of bitchiness each day.

“I doubt I’ll make it to midnight myself,” he said. “I’ll probably go home when they do.”

Your mom pouted at that, and you tuned them out as it turned into a hushed argument. In fact, you avoided your mother altogether for the rest of the day, choosing to keep the girls entertained until it was time to get ready for the party. You helped them put on the cute dresses their maternal grandparents gave them for Christmas, curling their hair and sweeping the lightest dusting of powder on their sweet faces because they wanted to look pretty like you.

“See? Just a little glow and you both look like beautiful princesses going to the ball,” you said, smiling as they admired themselves in the mirror.

“This is so cool,” Alice said, turning her head from side to side.

Molly grinned. “We look just like you.”

Warmth bloomed in your chest, and you kissed the tops of their heads, careful not to mess up their hair. Goodness, you loved these girls.

You were quick with your own preparations, adding a little curl to your hair and understated makeup to your face. Opting for simplicity, you went with the trusted little black dress that had seen you through most major events in your adulthood. You were just digging out a pair of heels to wear with it when Dave appeared in your doorway, decked out in a slate gray suit with a dark blue tie, hair swept back off his forehead and a brightness shining in his eyes at the sight of you.

“You look beautiful,” he said in a low, soft voice as he stepped into the room. One large hand brushed down the fabric of your dress, following the curves of your body, and he leaned in to press his lips to your forehead.

“You look rather dashing yourself, Mister.” Your eyelids fluttered shut at the press of his lips against your skin. A little sigh slipped past your glossy lips as you breathed in the rich scent of his cologne.

Dave’s eyes searched yours as he stepped back. “I wanted to talk to you before we head to the party.”

“Ok,” you replied, a hint of worry in your voice as you sat on the edge of your bed. Dave followed, sitting next to you and slipping a hand into your lap to tangle his fingers with yours.

“It’s nothing bad, Firecracker,” he smiled. “It’s just…”

“It’s just the first time we’ll be in public together since things… changed between us.”

His eyes softened, his hand squeezing yours a little tighter. “Exactly. We’ll need to be careful, especially in front of Roger. He’s… not a man whose attention I want on you.”

“Why is that?” you asked, brows furrowed curiously. “Is he a criminal or something? Wait, are you investigating him?”

Dave shook his head, his smile faltering a bit. “I can’t tell you that. Just stay away from him, okay? Anna – the woman from that day in the café – stay clear of her, too. Please.”

You nodded, looking away and muttering, “Of course.” A tug on your hand drew your eyes back to his, and he leaned over to softly kiss your mouth. A hint of your lip gloss lingered on his lips when he pulled back with a grin. The sight broke the tension, and you chuckled, wiping away the evidence with your thumb.

“I wish I could walk into that party holding your hand, not hers,” Dave offered sincerely, lifting your hand to kiss each of your knuckles.

“Me, too.” After a beat, you added, “Maybe someday.”

Dave looked at you with such a soft, hopeful look before leaving the room, it left you with an aching, jealous heart.

This night was going to be torture, you thought.

And it was.

Roger’s house was alive with music and laughter, champagne flutes clinking as guests milled about in glittering attire. The girls ran ahead, already excited by the sight of a variety of desserts laid out in the dining room.

Your mom wasted no time draping herself around Dave, greeting Roger and his wife with an air of effortless charm. You kept to the sidelines, watching, observing with one eye always on the girls.

Seeing your mom and Dave together like this, smiling at each other as they worked the room, his arm around her small waist, the occasional kiss to his cheek from her garishly red lips. All of it fucking sucked to watch and you questioned why you even bothered to come to this party with them in the first place.

A huge part of you ached to bolt, take the girls, and leave the party without any explanation. Observing your mom tangle her fingers in that same shock of hair at the base of Dave’s neck that you liked to play with had you taking a step toward the door.

And then, you felt it.

Dave’s gaze.

It burned into you with a longing so strong your skin prickled with goosebumps. You decided to stay put just so he’d keep looking at you like that.

And he did.

Every time you turned, you caught him looking, his soulful eyes saying everything. He checked on the girls frequently, but his eyes always found you, no matter where you were in the room.

If not for those shared glances, the subtle winks at you, and the quirk of his lips when your gazes locked, you would be dying inside.

You were getting another glass of wine from the bartender the Grants hired for the evening when you spotted a vaguely familiar face approaching your mom and Dave.

It was Anna, the woman you saw in the café with Dave. The one he told you to stay away from.

Her eyes cataloged your mom and Dave with interest, a smirk playing at her lips. She joined the small group they were talking to, stepping too close to Dave for your comfort. Fingernails dancing up his suit jacket, she leaned closer to whisper in his ear.

He froze at whatever she said, and a frown marred your brow as your gut twisted.

Torture. This night was nothing but fucking torture.

Suddenly, a presence loomed too close beside you.

“Enjoying yourself?”

You turned to find Roger, his grin lazy, beady eyes scanning you in a way that made your skin crawl.

“It’s a lovely party,” you replied politely, stepping back to create distance between you. Roger quickly closed the space.

“You must be Lisa’s daughter. We haven’t had a chance to officially meet yet. You’re always so occupied… They keep you busy over there.”

You tensed, glancing across the room, but Dave was nowhere in sight.

Roger reached for a stray lock of your hair, twirling it between his fingers. “You know, I see now why Dave keeps you hidden away. If I had someone like you around…”

You jerked back, heart pounding. You did not like where that observation was heading, but a deep, stern voice interrupted the uncomfortable moment before you could react further.

“Roger.” Dave’s voice was ice.

Roger turned, all casual charm, but the flicker of unease in his eyes met Dave’s was unmistakable. He must know what Dave was capable of. “Relax, York. We’re just making conversation. You certainly have your hands full being surrounded by such beautiful women.”

Dave’s jaw tightened as he muttered, “Find someone else to make conversation with.”

For a long moment, Roger seemed like he might push back just to be an ass. But whatever he saw in Dave’s expression made him reconsider any further remarks. With a smirk, he raised his hands in mock surrender and disappeared back into the crowd of partygoers.

Dave turned to you, his breath heavy, his eyes burning with something unreadable. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, though your hands trembled slightly. That man gave you the creeps even without Dave’s earlier warning. “I—yeah. I just…”

He exhaled, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I told you to stay away from him.”

You bristled. “I didn’t exactly seek him out, David.”

He sighed, tension rippling through his body. He reached out, hesitated as if remembering where you two were, then let his hand drop. “Just… stay close to the girls and away from everyone else, okay?”

“So, I’m just supposed to babysit and not speak to anyone?” How un-fucking-fair was that?

“Pretty much,” he replied without remorse.

You wanted to push back, to demand that he stop treating you like a fucking child, but your mom appeared before you could respond. Slipping her arm around Dave’s waist, kissing his cheek before turning to you with a sickly sweet smile. His dark eyes remained on you the whole time. “I hope you’re not causing trouble.”

Forcing a tight smile, you snapped, “Wouldn’t dream of it,” before striding away. Both of them could just fuck right off. You were so fucking sick of this party.

He tried to keep his eyes off you knowing what was at stake. He couldn’t afford to let his guard down with this crowd, so he tried. He really fucking tried. And completely failed.

You were breathtaking in that dress. The way it hugged your curves, showcasing the best parts of your body, made his heart thump heavily in his chest. You were his dream woman. How was he supposed to pretend you didn’t exist?

So, he chanced glances more often than he should have. He winked and smiled at you, knowing how hard it was to see him with his arm around your mom. He longed to be by your side instead of hers.

And that smug bastard Roger noticed the looks. Dave knew it was entirely his fault the man approached you. He practically lit a beacon drawing the man’s attention to you with each look. So much for being subtle.

You had Dave York twisted up inside and made him forget the most basic rules of subterfuge.

He intervened when he saw Roger speaking to you and kept an eye on you and the girls until you said goodnight and took them home. When he took a breather out on the patio after you said goodnight, Anna cornered him.

“Roger told me about your sweet little stepdaughter. Tell me, is she your plaything? Is that why you keep turning me down? I know it damn well isn’t your wife, so she must be the reason.”

Dave’s expression darkened. He dealt with enough of Anna’s over-the-top sex kitten act for the job, he didn’t have the patience for it tonight. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Anna smirked, twirling the glass of champagne in her hand before taking a long, drawn-out sip. “Oh, relax. I’m just saying… you must enjoy having something to grab onto. She’s a little… thick in places. Sizeable ass.”

“Anna,” Dave snapped, his voice full of warning as his hands curled into fists at his sides.

Anna merely chuckled. “Oh, don’t get your panties in a bunch, handsome. I’m just teasing.”

“Enough. Contact me when you have something business-related to talk about. Otherwise, leave me alone.” He had enough. Striding back into the house, he deposited his empty glass on a random table and left the party without saying goodbye to anyone, including Lisa. She was too busy paying court to a room full of admirers and he’d had enough of her shit tonight, too.

As Dave walked across the street and back to his home, his phone buzzed, and he hoped it was from you. When he pulled the phone from the inside pocket of his blazer, the message on the screen made his blood run cold.

Unknown Number: I know what you’re hiding.

tbc

Chapter Eight

tag list: @imdrinkingpedro @lillaydee @ppascalrain @yorksgirl @missladym1981 @baronessvonglitter @slimybeth69 @mellymbee @untamedheart81 @inept-the-magnificent @wannab-urs @thundermartini @peelieblue @harriedandharassed @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @sunnytuliptime @vie-is-punk

#stepdad!dave york x f!reader #dave york equalizer 2 #soft yet intense dave #dave york fluff #dave york angst #pedrostories #stepdad!dave #dave york smut #nhie2025 #nhie challenge

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