#but like i said he was stressing me out. he had too good of a read on me and i can't get over my trust issues with men

[milktiicup]

Could you write a fic where we figure out a way to bring Mr Crawling shopping with us? Maybe he could be put in a wheelchair so his height isn't as scary or suspicious to other humans

a day out!

“Junk food,” you explain. “Not good for you.” “Want junk,” he says immediately, reaching for a bag of neon orange cheese puffs. Your resolve crumbles. “Fine. One junk.” You lean down beside his head. He turns to you, a smile of wonder on his face, and you stress, “One.” His giggle rings down the aisle and he places the chips into the basket. 

Leaving Mr. Crawling at home all day left you wondering- does he need fresh air? Does he want fresh air? If you left your old world in the name of romance just to be left inside all day while your partner goes to work and has extra curricular activities at night time- you’d like to think you’d crave being outside, too. 

It gave you the bright idea- why not take Mr. Crawling grocery shopping?

Of course, your roommate-boyfriend-thing couldn’t really walk outside all willy-nilly if he wanted. And yeah, you already knew that he’s not that noticeable to other people- but he’s still noticeable. He needed a makeover, a new wardrobe, and one thing for certain- a wheelchair! 

You felt bad stealing from the hospital, but what could you do? Pay for one? Those things were expensive! You may be a murderer, you may be a monster, but one thing for certain is- you’re not that much of a thief… You paid for his clothes, obviously. A simple oversized black t-shirt and a pair of black sweatpants. You even decided to treat him to a pair of… black socks. 

You were such a good, kind person. 

“Crawlingggg,” you sang, stepping into your apartment. “I have a gift for you!”

He sits there in the hallway, head tilted and a smile that stretches ear to ear. “Gift? You give object?” 

You wave the shopping bags. “I give object! Give you!”

“Give me?” He giggles, and you’re promptly tackled to the floor in a heap of hair and raggy kimono in a hug. 

You don’t know what you were expecting by giving Mr. Crawling a pair of normal human sized pants, but they fit… for the most part. His entire calves were exposed. He was like a fussy baby when you insisted you had to put the socks on his feet, but with a pout, he let you. Mr. Crawling was quick to look at himself in the mirror, and after you changed out of your work clothes, you were ready to go!#

“Ready?” you ask, gripping the handles of the wheelchair with perhaps a little too much enthusiasm. This was, after all, a brilliant idea. Mr. Crawling finally gets to experience the great outdoors. A small trip, sure, but a big leap in the world of integrating your… unique roommate-boyfriend-thing into normal human life.

He glances down at himself, his oversized shirt sagging a little off one shoulder, his sweatpants cinched tight around his too-thin waist. His hair still moves with its own mind, curling around his arms like curious tendrils. Maybe a hair tie would’ve been a good idea. “Look… human?” he asks, poking the fabric of his shirt.

“Close enough,” you say brightly, patting his shoulder. “And trust me, no one will question it. People don’t actually pay attention to other people in public. It’s one of the few perks of modern society.”

He tilts his head, not understanding a word you just said, but he nods anyway. “You push chair. Fast?”

“No,” you say firmly, cutting that idea off before it even starts. You had to be mature, and fight the urges to make him do wheelies down the street. You were an adult. “We’re going normal speed, like normal people, doing normal grocery shopping. Normal.” You give him a pointed look, and he grins wide.

You manoeuvre him out of the apartment and down the hall, the wheelchair gliding smoothly. His fingers twitch as he grips the armrests. “This… fun,” he murmurs, glancing up at you. “You like push?”

“It’s like pushing a very large, very creepy man,” you mutter, though there’s no real malice in your tone. “But yeah, it’s kind of fun.”

The trip down to the street is uneventful. Nobody spares you a second glance, save for one elderly woman who frowns a little at Mr. Crawling’s hair. Damn… Men can’t have long hair these days, apparently. You quickly steer him away before she can get a closer look, and see the fact he quite literally has no eyeballs.

“Outside,” he whispers in awe as you roll him onto the sidewalk. His fingers tap the armrests excitedly, his head swivelling to take in the towering buildings, the cars, the smoggy sky. “Big.”

“Yeah, welcome to the human world,” you say. “It’s not all bad, though. See those pigeons? They’re kind of cute, right?”

He stares at the birds for a long moment, then tilts his head. “Consume?”

“No!” you hiss, your voice a little louder than intended. A couple walking past gives you a strange look, but you wave them off. “We do not eat the pigeons. We buy food from inside the store. That’s the whole point of this trip, remember?”

Mr. Crawling frowns, but his smile returns as fast as it left. “I understand!”

“Good. Great. Let’s go.”

The grocery store is just a few blocks away, and you’re relieved when the automatic doors slide open. The bright fluorescent lights and neatly stacked shelves feel almost comforting in their mundanity. It’s a sense of normalcy that you… kind of, but only kind of have at home. Your roommate-boyfriend-thing is a monster from another realm. 

Mr. Crawling, on the other hand, looks like a kid in a candy store. “Many object…” he murmurs, his head swivelling in every direction. “Human eat this?”

“Yeah,” you say, grabbing a basket. “You’re about to see how humans stock up for the week. Ready?”

He nods, his grin widening. You just hope the poor cashier is ready for whatever this trip is about to become. You let Mr. Crawling hold the shopping basket in his lap, and push him down the first aisle. 

You knew Mr. Crawling wasn’t dumb by any means. He’s smart enough to pick up things from the TV, understands a majority of the stuff you say in your own language, but you’d never imagine that the day would come that you had to explain what broccoli was to him. 

“What this?”

“Little tree. You know tree?”

“Know tree… Little tree… Healthy?”

“Healthy. If you cook it.”

“Cook little tree…” 

You’ve mystified him. 

Your next aisle - the snack aisle - has Mr. Crawling enamoured. “What this?” he asks, picking up colourful chip bag after chip bag. If he had eyes, you knew he would be eyeing up those boxes of cookies like no tomorrow. 

“Junk food,” you explain. “Not good for you.”

“Want junk,” he says immediately, reaching for a bag of neon orange cheese puffs.

Your resolve crumbles. “Fine. One junk.” You lean down beside his head. He turns to you, a smile of wonder on his face, and you stress, “One.” His giggle rings down the aisle and he places the chips into the basket. 

By the time you reach the checkout, the basket is loaded with a mix of essentials and Mr. Crawling’s curious additions- things like canned soup, frozen potato waffles, and a box of pudding cups that he grabbed without even asking. And of course, the box of cookies that you knew he would eye up eventually. 

The cashier barely glances at the two of you, though she does raise an eyebrow at Mr. Crawling’s hair. You pay quickly, and wheel him outside with your bags of groceries in tow.

As you head back home, he turns to you, clutching the bag of cheese puffs in his lap. “Shopping fun,” he declares, beaming. “Human smart.”

“Yeah, well, let’s see if you feel the same after cooking some of this stuff,” you reply, shaking your head with a smile. “Ready for that adventure next?”

He nods, munching a cheese puff as if it’s the greatest thing he’s ever tasted. “Cook tiny tree.”

You laugh. “Okay, Crawling. We can cook the broccoli together.”

[littlelamy]

massages with rafe

They always started the same way—innocent enough, at least on the surface. It didn’t matter how much you told him you didn’t need it or how many excuses you tried to make. Rafe didn’t care. He was relentless in his mission to make sure you were taken care of.

“Baby, you’ve been carrying stress all week,” he’d say, his voice laced with that soft, commanding tone that left no room for argument. “Just let me handle it. Let me help.”

And so, you always gave in. How could you not? Especially when his hands were so good at coaxing away every ounce of tension you didn’t even know you had.

Tonight, you were on his bed, stretched out on your stomach, the soft glow of his bedside lamp casting golden light across his sharp features. The sheets beneath you smelled like him—cedarwood and something faintly smoky—and the familiar scent was enough to ease some of the weight pressing on your chest.

Rafe straddled your legs, his hands warm and firm as they worked over your shoulders. His fingers pressed into your skin with practiced precision, finding every knot and coaxing it loose.

“You’re all wound up, princess,” he murmured, his thumbs digging into a particularly tight spot between your shoulder blades. “What’s got you so tense?”

“Life,” you mumbled, your voice muffled by the pillow.

He let out a low chuckle, the sound vibrating through the quiet room. “Good thing I’m here, huh?”

You didn’t answer, too focused on the way his hands worked their magic. His touch was firm yet tender, soothing yet intoxicating. It was almost too easy to lose yourself in the rhythm of his movements, to let your mind wander as his hands moved lower, tracing the curve of your spine.

But with Rafe, it was never just a massage.

The shift happened slowly, subtly at first. His hands lingered on the small of your back, his thumbs brushing against the waistband of your shorts in a way that made your breath hitch. You felt the change in the air, the way it seemed to thicken with something unspoken, something electric.

“Rafe,” you said, your voice soft, tentative.

“Hmm?” His response was casual, almost innocent, but the way his hands moved wasn’t.

His fingertips dipped just below the waistband, tracing slow, deliberate circles against your skin. “Relax, baby. Let me take care of you.”

Your heart raced, a mix of anticipation and nervousness coursing through your veins. His touch was intoxicating, making it hard to think, hard to breathe.

“You had a rough week,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your shoulder as his hands slid lower. “You deserve to feel good. Daddy’s got you.”

The words sent a shiver down your spine, heat pooling low in your belly. You couldn’t stop the soft whimper that escaped your lips, your body instinctively arching into his touch.

“That’s it,” he said, his voice low and soothing. “Just let me do the work.”

He tugged at the waistband of your shorts, sliding them down your legs in one smooth motion. The cool air against your bare skin made you shiver, but the warmth of his hands quickly chased it away. His touch was reverent, almost worshipful, as his hands skimmed over your thighs, squeezing gently before moving higher.

“You’re so soft,” he murmured, his voice filled with awe as his fingertips traced the curve of your hips. “So perfect.”

Your cheeks burned at his words, but you didn’t have time to dwell on your embarrassment. Not when his fingers were sliding between your legs, finding the damp heat already building there.

“Look at you,” he said, his tone both teasing and adoring. “So puffy, so ready for me.”

A whimper escaped your lips, your hips bucking involuntarily as his fingers pressed against you through the thin fabric of your panties. He chuckled softly, clearly pleased with your reaction.

“Rafe,” you gasped, your voice trembling as he slid the fabric aside, his fingers brushing against your bare skin.

“What is it, baby?” he asked, his voice low and dripping with affection. “What do you need?”

“I...” Your words faltered, your mind too foggy with desire to form a coherent thought.

He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear. “Tell me, princess. I want to hear you say it.”

“I need you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

He groaned softly, his fingers finally sliding inside you, drawing a gasp from your lips.

He moved slowly, deliberately, his fingers curling just right to hit that spot that made you see stars. His free hand slid beneath you, his palm pressing against your stomach to hold you steady as he worked you over.

“Feel that?” he murmured, his lips brushing against your neck. “That’s me taking care of you. That’s me making you feel good.”

You couldn’t answer, too lost in the sensation of his touch, the way his fingers moved inside you with an almost unbearable precision. He took his time, savoring every reaction, every moan and whimper that spilled from your lips.

“You’re so tight,” he muttered, his voice tinged with awe. “So perfect for me.”

Your body trembled beneath him, your hands gripping the sheets as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

“That’s it, baby,” he said, his tone filled with pride. “Let go for me. I’ve got you.”

When the wave of pleasure finally crashed over you, it was overwhelming, all-consuming. Your body shook, your vision blurred, and all you could do was hold onto him as he guided you through it.

He didn’t stop, didn’t pull away. His touch remained steady, grounding you as you came down from the high, his lips pressing soft kisses against your shoulders and neck.

“Better?” he asked, his voice soft and filled with genuine concern.

You nodded weakly, a small smile tugging at your lips as you turned to look at him. “Yeah. Better.”

He smiled back, his expression tender as he leaned down to kiss you.

“Good,” he said, pulling you into his arms. “You deserve to feel good, princess. Always.”

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[hoonven]

CHAMPAGNE PROBLEMS

2.1K ⸺ a moment of clarity brings you back to your fiancé, flour-dusted and waiting, and somehow, amid the remnants of your champagne problems, you find hope stirring in the winter air

‎PAIRING! fiancé!park sunghoon x female reader

GENRES! fluff, angst, established relationship, hurt/comfort

WARNINGS! mentions of emotionally absent parents, brief mention of food, the reader struggles with overcoming childhood fears, i think that’s it lmk if i missed anything

Park Sunghoon was like snow, a silent beauty in the unforgiving frigid season of winter. He was the joy of building snowmen, the thrill of snowball fights, and the wonder of making snow angels. He was the delicate touch of snowflakes melting on your skin, the serene hush of snowfall blanketing the world. He was the sweetness of gingerbread cookies and the warmth of hot cocoa brimming with marshmallows. He was the comfort of a flickering fireplace, the softness of a fuzzy blanket wrapped tightly around you, the subtle perfume of winter spices from a burning candle.

Park Sunghoon was like snow—pure, ethereal, and timeless. He shone like the star atop a Christmas tree, his presence brought the excitement of a gift waiting to be unwrapped. He was the nostalgia of holiday movies you’ve seen a hundred times, yet never grew tired of.

Park Sunghoon was winter’s magic, a special spirit that blessed the earth in all its glory.

So why did you feel the biting cold?

It was exactly a year ago on Christmas Eve, and his proposal was perfect. The snow-covered gazebo twinkled with string lights, the crisp air carried the scent of pine, and a soft melody of carolers drifted from the town square. His hand, trembling but steady, had pulled a blue velvet box from his coat pocket. He smiled, warm and sure, as if he already knew your answer.

“Will you marry me?” he’d asked. The four simple words spoken in the kind of voice that could thaw an endless winter.

Your heart swelled, your hands shook, and you whispered a quiet “yes.” But later that night, as you laid in bed staring at the ceiling while the world outside froze over, doubt crept in like frost spreading across a windowpane.

Your mother’s voice rang in your ears, in weary resignation. You remembered how she used to sit by the window in the afternoons, staring out at a world she never felt part of anymore. “I gave up everything,” she had said once. “For my kids. For my husband. And look where it got me.”

The memory tightened around your chest like a vice. Sunghoon wasn’t like your father—he wasn’t distant, distracted, or cold. He was attentive, affectionate, and endlessly patient. But still, what if? What if marrying him meant losing yourself, too? What if everything started out great and then slowly got worse just like it did for your parents?

“Talk to me,” he said one evening, his voice soft but firm as he pulled you from the kitchen where you’d been stirring a pot of soup you didn't intend to eat. The engagement ring on your finger catches the light, a reminder of the promise you made but aren’t sure you can keep.

“I’m fine,” you murmured, refusing to meet his eyes.

“You’re lying.” His hands gently rest on your shoulders, his thumbs brushing reassuring circles. “You’ve been somewhere else since last Christmas Eve.”

You paused for a moment, caught off guard. You had almost forgotten how good he was at psychologizing you in the midst of your internal battle. But you lie again—because it's what comes most naturally to you when someone asks if you're okay.

“It’s nothing. I’m just stressed.”

“It’s not nothing. I can see it on your face. Please, tell me what’s wrong.”

His persistence feels like sunlight breaking through clouds, but you’re not ready to let the warmth in. You pull away, wrapping your arms around yourself as if shielding your heart from his. “I just… I don’t know if I can do this. What if I end up like my mom? What if I lose myself in this, Sunghoon?”

The words hang in the air like smoke, and for a moment, his expression cracks—hurt flickering across his features like a candle about to go out. But then he steps closer, his voice steady, gentle. “You’re not your mom. And I’m not your dad. Your mom had dreams, ambitions—things she was passionate about just like you. But the difference is you found someone who loves that about you. I would never ask you to give any of that up.”

“But what if I do anyway?” you whispered, tears stinging your eyes. “What if I forget who I am because I love you too much?”

“Then I’ll remind you,” he said simply. “Every day, if I have to.”

His words chipped away at the icy wall you had built around yourself, but fear is a stubborn thing, clinging even as warmth seeps in.

You suppose that's why you're sitting on a couch, staring at the framed watercolor painting on the wall—something abstract, meant to be calming, but to you, it’s just a swirl of indistinct shapes. Your hands fidget with the hem of your knit sweater as the snow-laden world outside the window reflects your mood: quiet, heavy, and cold.

“Y/N?”

The sound of your name pulls you back. Your therapist, Dr. Hart, leans forward slightly, her pen poised over her notepad. Her voice is soft, patient. “What’s on your mind?”

You blink, feeling the heat of her steady gaze. “Oh, um…” You hesitate, glancing down at your hands. “Nothing, really. Just lost in thought.”

Dr. Hart tilts her head, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. “Nothing’s rarely ever nothing. Take your time.”

For a moment, the room feels too small, too quiet, but you exhale and decide to speak. “Sunghoon,” you admit softly.

“Your fiancé?”

You nod, feeling a pang in your chest as the word settles between you. Fiancé. It’s supposed to feel joyful, exciting, but lately, it’s felt complicated.

“I love him,” you begin, your voice barely above a whisper. “I really do. He’s kind, supportive, and everything I could ever ask for in a man. But ever since he proposed, I’ve been… scared?”

Dr. Hart doesn’t interrupt, her expression open and encouraging.

“I keep thinking about my parents,” you continue. “My mom gave up everything to be with my dad. She stopped working, stayed home to raise me and my siblings, and over time, she just… lost herself. She used to love winning lawsuits for her clients, but eventually, all she did was clean and cook and wait for him to come home. She became so bitter, and my dad barely noticed. I don’t want that to happen to me. I don’t want to lose myself like she did.”

“And you’re afraid marrying Sunghoon will put you on the same path,” Dr. Hart says, her voice gentle.

You nod, your throat tightening. “I know Sunghoon isn’t my dad. He’s nothing like him. But what if I am like my mom? What if, without meaning to, I give up who I am because I love him too much?”

Dr. Hart lets the silence linger for a moment before speaking. “It sounds like you’ve built a wall around yourself, trying to protect your identity and your independence. And that’s not a bad thing—those parts of you are important. But Y/N, have you ever asked yourself this: is Sunghoon asking you to give those parts up?”

You blink, her question catching you off guard, and you're reminded of your conversation with him a few days ago when he pulled you out of the kitchen. “No,” you admit quietly. “He’s always encouraging me to do what I love. And reminding me to take breaks when I get too wrapped up in work.”

Dr. Hart nods thoughtfully. “It seems to me that the fear you’re holding onto doesn’t come from Sunghoon. It comes from your past—from what you saw in your parents’ relationship. You’ve taken that fear and made it your own, but it doesn’t have to be. You are not your mother, and Sunghoon is not your father. Their story is not yours.”

Her words land like a stone sinking into water, rippling through your thoughts.

“But what if I still mess it up?” you ask, your voice small. “What if I get it wrong?”

Dr. Hart smiles gently. “Every relationship takes work, compromise, and communication. But the fact that you’re here, reflecting on your fears, tells me you care deeply about doing this right. Sunghoon sounds like someone who sees you for who you are and loves you as you are. Maybe the question isn’t about whether you’ll lose yourself but whether you’ll allow yourself to trust you—and him.”

The knot in your chest loosens, her words settling like fresh snow over the chaos in your mind.

“Trust him,” you echo softly, more to yourself than to her.

Dr. Hart nods. “And trust yourself. You are not defined by your parents’ choices. You have the power to create the future you desire.”

For the first time in a year, the weight on your shoulders feels a little lighter. You leave the session feeling like the frost in your heart is starting to melt, warmed by the realization that maybe, just maybe, you can be brave enough to trust in the love you’ve found—and the person you’ve grown to be.

The smell hits you first—something warm and sweet, mingling with the faintest hint of something burning. You push open the front door, stepping into the glow of the tiny Christmas tree you and Sunghoon had decorated last week. Lights twinkle softly, casting shadows that dance on the walls, but it’s the sound of soft muttering coming from the kitchen that makes you smile.

When you round the corner, you stop in your tracks.

Sunghoon is standing by the counter, dusted in flour from his hair to his slippers, poking at a tray of slightly misshapen cookies. He’s wearing the most outrageously festive apron you’ve ever seen—bright red with cartoon reindeer and candy canes, a pair of oven mittens that look like Santa’s hands resting on the counter. His brow is furrowed in concentration as he lifts one cookie with a spatula, only for it to crumble in half.

“Oh, come on,” he grumbles under his breath, shaking his head.

You press a hand over your mouth to stifle a laugh, but the sound escapes anyway, and his head snaps up.

“You’re home,” he says, his eyes lighting up despite the flour smudged on his cheek. “Uh, surprise?”

“What are you doing?” you ask, stepping closer.

He shrugs sheepishly, glancing at the mess on the counter. “I thought I’d try making your favorite holiday cookies. You know, the ones your mom always made? I figured it might cheer you up.” He winces as he looks at the tray. “But, uh, they didn’t turn out as planned. I think I overdid the ginger or… probably everything.”

Your chest tightens, but not with anxiety this time. It’s the kind of warmth that spreads slowly, filling the cracks you’ve been carrying.

You see it then, as clear as the frost on the windowpane: you are not your mother, and Sunghoon is not your father.

Your mother gave up everything, but you won’t. You’ve built a life filled with love, with purpose, with someone who sees you for who you are and encourages you to be more. Sunghoon doesn’t take from you—he gives.

The thought warms you like a fire on a cold winter night.

“Sunghoon,” you whisper, your voice catching.

He frowns, stepping toward you. “What’s wrong? Did something happen at therapy?”

You shake your head, and before he can say anything else, you close the distance between you, wrapping your arms around him tightly. He freezes for a moment, surprised, then melts into the hug, his arms slipping around your waist.

“I love you,” you murmur into his shoulder. “And I'm sorry for being so distant, for letting my fears get in the way. You’ve been so patient with me, and I should’ve trusted you more. Trusted myself more. I should’ve trusted us more.”

“I love you, Sunghoon, and I want to marry you.” You say, the words spilling out like a confession. “I just needed time to remember that I’m not her. And you’re not him.”

His hand comes up to cradle the back of your head, his touch gentle. “Hey, it’s okay,” he says softly. “I know you’ve been through a lot. I just wanted to remind you that I’m here, no matter what.”

You pull back slightly to look at him, tears pricking your eyes. “We’re gonna be okay, right?” you ask, your voice trembling.

His gaze is steady, warm, as he cups your cheek with his flour-dusted hand. “We’re gonna be more than okay. You’re not her, Y/N. You’re you—stubborn in all the best ways.” His lips quirk into a small smile. “And you’re stuck with me, reindeer apron and all.”

A laugh bubbles out of you, light and free. “You look ridiculous by the way,” you say, brushing a smudge of flour from his cheek.

“Ridiculously handsome,” he counters with a grin.

You roll your eyes but lean in to kiss him, a silent promise in the way your lips meet. Outside, snow falls softly, blanketing the world in a quiet peace. And in his arms, you finally feel warm.

© 2024 hoonven, all rights reserved. i do not give permission to modify, repost, translate, or plagiarize my works on any platform. NETWORK! @kstrucknet

[captainsophiestark]

Dance Like Nobody's Watching

Dick Grayson x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2024!

Fandom: DC

Day Twenty-Seven Prompt: "Let me remind you."

Summary: Dick's SO is having trouble adjusting to the new scrutiny of attending Wayne galas as his date, but thankfully, he has an idea to help with that.

Word Count: 1,449

Category: Fluff

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I sipped my champagne, trying to get a handle on my nerves. I could handle fighting the Joker and Scarecrow with no problems, but attending a Wayne gala as the partner of Dick Grayson was throwing me for a loop.

I fought the urge to scowl about it. If one thing could make this night more awkward, it would be some person I barely knew finding me making faces in the corner.

What irritated me the most was that this was by no means my first Wayne gala. I'd grown up with Dick and spent countless hours in the manor with him and his family. We'd been each other's primary entertainment at these things as kids. But being here as his date, and as an adult expected to do more than turn the banquet tables into a fort, was turning out to be surprisingly stressful.

When we were kids, nobody seemed to care what we did much beyond just noticing and thinking we were cute. Now, it seemed like everybody in this room wanted something from Dick, and either saw me as a threat to their ability to get it or as a secret backdoor to him, if only they could get me on their side.

I was seriously on the edge of losing it and going back to the buffet tables kid-style.

Dick had done his best to stick with me, but people kept showing up to pull both of us away from each other for a conversation, and we hadn't been able to do much without being incredibly, obviously rude. I'd finally managed to extract myself enough for some breathing room, but I could see Dick still in the middle of things, a group of old men who almost certainly wanted money from Bruce talking his ear off.

Even from here, I could tell Dick was barely paying attention to them. His eyes scanned the crowd, and after a moment, they landed on me. He raised an eyebrow, and I gave him a reassuring smile. Unfortunately for me, he knew me too well and was too good of a detective to believe it.

Dick quickly made his excuses to the men around him, and didn't take no for an answer as he left the conversation and headed in my direction. He crossed the massive room quickly to stand before me, and this time when I smiled at him, it was much more genuine.

"Hey," he said, returning my smile and leaning in to kiss my temple as soon as he reached me. "How are you doing?"

"Good." I tried to strengthen my smile, but Dick saw right through it. He raised an eyebrow at me.

"...Are you sure?"

I sighed. "It's just... this all feels a little weird. I've known you forever, you know it's never been important to me that you're the famed son of billionare Bruce Wayne. But it seems like that's all anybody else here can think about, and they all either hate me because they want to be with you or want to be my new best friend, all so they can get to you and Bruce. It's fine, none of their opinions matter to me, but... I just didn't expect to feel so weird coming to one of these things again."

Dick took a step closer to me, reaching out to take my arm with a concerned look on his face. He spoke quietly enough that, even if someone had been intentionally eavesdropping (which had happened more than once tonight), they wouldn't be able to hear him.

"Do you want to go? I'm happy to leave if you want to. We don't have to stay here."

I shook my head before he'd even finished his sentence.

"Running and no-showing Bruce's galas isn't a long-term solution. And seriously, it's fine, I'll adjust. I just... I don't know. I miss the days where we hid under the punch bowl giggling out of sight of everybody, you know?"

My boyfriend grinned. "I mean, if you really think about it, there's nothing keeping us from doing that again."

"I can think of a few things," I laughed, swatting his shoulder lightly. He hummed, but sobered quickly as he scanned the room, clearly thinking.

"Well... if you're sure you don't want to commandeer the space under the desert table?"

"I'm sure."

"Then why don't we try dancing? That's a little more... socially acceptable than hiding under the tables, but it's one of the things we used to have the most fun doing at these things. Remember how we'd just take over the entire floor to do whatever we wanted when we were kids?"

I laughed. "Yeah, of course. Although it's a little harder to remember the feeling that inspired us to just run out there before."

Dick smiled softly and extended his hand to me.

"Let me remind you."

My heart did a little backflip, especially when I met Dick's sparkling blue eyes. I huffed a little laugh of disbelief, especially at the thought of stepping into the center of the spotlight when I knew just how many people were going to be watching. But then I looked at Dick again, and I decided that, as long as I was with him, they didn't matter.

I took his hand, and he didn't waste a second before pulling me after him to the dance floor. I laughed, unable to hold back a smile even as heads turned towards us. Dick ignored them completely. He pulled me to his chest when we reached the center of the floor and wrapped an arm securely around my waist, the other taking one of my hands. I rested my free hand on his shoulder, and as we started swaying together to the music, his eyes didn't leave mine for a second.

"You know..." he started after a moment, drawing my attention back from a glance over his shoulder to where people were watching us. "This is nice, but a slow dance wasn't exactly what I had in mind."

I gave Dick my full attention and raised an eyebrow.

"I'm almost afraid to ask, but... what did you have in mind?"

He grinned. "Something more like this."

Suddenly, Dick was spinning me out and away from him, twirling across the floor before pulling me back. We'd know each other long enough and spent enough time as vigilante teammates that his steps were easy to follow, even as he started something closer to swing that didn't match the music at all.

I laughed, a warm feeling spreading through my chest as I shared a smile with my partner. In the back of my mind, I knew more people were probably watching and judging than ever. But suddenly they didn't matter like they used to.

Dick swung me around again, then pulled me close and into an exaggerated dip. If I didn't know he was a superhero, I probably would've been a little worried about him dropping me. Instead, it just made me laugh, especially as Dick grinned and led me into something way too close to something you'd do to Cotton Eye Joe.

With every second that passed on the dance floor with Dick, everyone else in the room faded further and further away. It felt like when we were kids, just me and the most important person in the world to me having the time of our lives.

"Feel any better?" asked Dick, whispering in my ear as he pulled me close again, both hands wrapped tight around my waist. I smiled, running my hands up his arms and across his shoulders.

"So much better. Thank you."

"You don't need to thank me. We're partners, you know I'd never leave you hanging."

I pulled back enough to meet Dick's eyes, and found their familiar sparkle and a smile waiting for me. I gave him a soft smile back.

"I love you, Dick Grayson. So fucking much."

Dick beamed back at me. "I love you too. Now come on, the band's finally catching on to what we want. I want to dance with the love of my life to music that's actually fun for dancing."

I just laughed as Dick swung me out and away from him again, the two of us twirling across the floor, this time in sync with the now-faster music. Suddenly, after a few minutes with Dick, the propsect of all these Wayne galas didn't seem nearly so daunting anymore. Sure, I might have to deal with a few unpleasant strangers whose opinions didn't matter to me. But I'd also get to do this, laughing and dancing and having the time of our lives, with my favorite person in the world.

Worth it in the long run, as far as I was concerned.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen @misshale21

DC Taglist: @gaychaosgremlin @v1ckycheesue @lavender-dinos @g0atmansbridge182

[kittyhowlett]

just a quick little drabble bc i’m think about 2013 the wolverine logan.

yk the drill, minors dni.

it’s a quiet night. You’re sitting on the couch with Logan by the fireplace. It’s a little chilly outside and Logan arrived home from work five minutes ago and plopped right down on the couch. Sitting back, undoing his tie, spreading his legs and throwing his head back, letting out a deep sigh. You plopped right down next to him with a cup of tea in your hand, hoping it would warm you up a little bit. It’s been silent for five minutes now. Just sitting in each other presence. He looks up at you with his head still thrown back. You took the opportunity to break the silence.

“How was work?” you finally said.

“Stressful.” he exclaimed with an unamused look.

You frowned slightly, “I think i know something that could cheer you up tho….” it was hard to say it without giggling.

“I’m not in the mood, princess” He threw his head back again, closing his eyes.

You knew it would be wrong, to be a fucking selfish little brat, especially when he was tired from work. But you couldn’t help it, it’s just too fun right?

You slowly rises your legs up so that your knees were touching your chest and sat with your back against the arm of the couch. You slowly tiptoed your legs closer to him. You’re plum ankle socks coming in contact with his crotch. Slowly rubbing your foot against the tent growing in his pants. You gave him a cheeky little smile and his eyes grew dark.

“Cmon, sweets don’t play this game with me” his gruff voice broken by a choked back moan.

He was so obviously getting worked up. And it made your panties dampen thinking what he was gonna do next.

He grabbed your legs softly, caressing them as he did.

“I’m serious honey”

You couldn’t help but giggle at getting under his skin so fast by something so small.

But much to your surprise, he threw your legs off of him and grabbed your face, smushing your cheeks together.

“ You wanna act like a fuckin’ brat? Hm? You wanna be taught a lesson so bad right? Huh? I’m speaking to you princess, it’s disrespectful to not answer.”

“I- I’m sorry” you tried to say but it came out as a tiny whisper.

“Yeah I know you are, but that’s not enough for me” his voice came out so demanding, it made your core clench around nothing.

“Get on your knees, now.”

You wasted no time doing so, not wanting to disobey and rile him up even more.

He swiftly placed your upper body over his right knee and your legs were now on either side of his other knee.

“You wanna play so badly, go ahead. Do what you need to do.” He grunted.

You felt your face heating up by his tone and the very vulnerable position he had you in here.

“I’m sorry, Logan…” you pouted.

“Mm-mm you don’t get to call me that anymore, sweetie” God, he made your tummy twist.

“I’m sorry, sir” you whined.

“Mm, was that so hard sweetheart?” he said, groping your ass then landing a harsh smack that made you squeak.

“Go ahead, baby no one’s stopping you. Do what you want to” You knew he wanted you to grind on his knee so you can see how much of a desperate little slut you are. And as much as you wanted to continue being a brat, you also know that that’s what you’re dying to do.

Another harsh smack landed on your ass making you mewl and jerk forward causing friction against your cunt.

“Fuck sweetie, your princess parts getting nice and wet for me? Can smell you already…” He groaned.

The friction felt so good that you involuntarily started grinding your cunt on his knee.

“Thaaat’s it. See how much fun we can have when you’re a good girl?” Another smack landed on your pink tinted cheeks, this one a little softer than the other two.

“Mm, yeaaaa gonna cum, sir” you whined out.

“Oh yeah? You gonna make a mess in those little panties? Hm?” he was taunting you but it was just what you needed to send you right over the edge. You felt your eyes roll back into your skull as a wave of ecstasy crashed over you. His word turning your brain into a mushy mess of submission.

“Thereeeee we go baby, what a sweet girl.”

You couldn’t even register a thought other than feeling his overwhelming dominant presence. Your brain just consisted of him, him, him. And it felt so good. No words came out of your mouth but he already knew what you needed.

“Come here” he brought you fully onto his lap so you’re straddling him. You buried your face in his neck and he caressed your back.

“Need you, Logan.” was all you manage to get out.

He let out a hearty chuckle and pulled you in for a kiss, thrusting his hips up slightly to remind you of the very large tent in his pants.

“I think we should take this part to the bed yeah?”

this is completely self indulgent and also my first time writing something so elaborative. so i’m sorry if it makes no sense lol just wanted to get my thoughts out there. also was not proof read so sorry for any grammatical mistakes :/

[confiaenanaa]

Hi!! Could you do one in which Em meets reader's parents and he's nervous they won't like him and keep asking reader how to dress, what to say or do??

nervous - eminem

fem!y/n x Marshall Mathers

masterlist

synopsis: Marshall's nervous about meeting Y/N's parents.

A/N: had a lot of fun writing this one! I know my chapters are short and stuff, but I hope that soon I'll be able to get one out that's super duper long for you guys!

Marshall had never imagined he’d be sitting on his bedroom floor, surrounded by piles of his best clothes and shoes, all for a girl. Well, not a girl; the girl. Y/N was his diamond, his crown jewel. He adored her in every way possible, which is why he was stressing so hard over meeting her parents. This was a very big deal to him; if her parents didn’t like him, what would come of the relationship? 

-Fuck it. 

That’s what he kept muttering to himself as he dialed Y/N’s number in his phone. It rang once, twice, three times, and finally…

-Hello?

-Hey baby.

-Oh, hey, Marsh! What’s up?

-So, I was picking out what I was gonna wear tonight when I realized that I have nothing!

-You’re so dramatic, you have a huge closet! You’ll find something in there.

She was right. He had a plethora of clothes in various styles. There had to be at least one decent outfit somewhere among the mass of fabric tainting the cleanliness of his bedroom. Sadly, he still thought none of it was good enough.

-I actually don’t. Nothing here is nice enough to wear to meet your parents.

-Marshall, my parents aren’t some strict, stick-up-the-ass, crazy people. They don’t really care about what you’re wearing as long as you don’t look homeless.

-Have you seen what I wear? I do look homeless!

-No… you look like a classy homeless man. There’s a difference.

-Baby, I’m serious. I’m real stressed here.

Y/N sighed at his apprehension. He truly was ridiculous at times. 

-What do you want me to do about it?

-Well, can you come over?

-Fine. Be there in 10.

Y/N hopped in her car after throwing on some clothes and took off. She herself needed to get ready, but that need not be mentioned. She’d figure it out. Once she pulled into his driveway, she saw him standing at the door, visibly anxious. Y/N stepped out of the car and greeted Marshall.

-Hey, baby.

-Hey. Help me please.

He sort of jogged up the stairs and led her to his bedroom. Y/N audibly gasped at the mess he’d made. Clothes strewn all over the floor, shoes on the table, perfumes thrown on his bed, the man was a wreck. 

-Good god.

-I know. I have a bit of a mess. But, ignore that. Can you help me pick everything?

-Yeah. Yeah, okay.

Marshall went through the mess finding outfit after outfit. Y/N said all of them were fine, but he wanted his outfit to be great. At this point, Y/N was saying they were great just to get him off her ass. She was running out of time to get ready. 

-Baby don’t lie to me! Tell me if the clothes are actually good, please.

Y/N groaned and stood up from her spot on the bed. She went over to the pile farthest from them and grabbed a nice shirt. Then, she went over to a pile of jeans on the other end of the floor and picked up a pair of jeans that were nice and hadn’t touched the floor yet. Next, she found the shoe pile and grabbed a matching pair of nice jordans and a nice smelling perfume in the pile next to them. She put it all together in front of Marshall and his jaw dropped slightly. 

-Wha… how did you…?

-Magic. Y/N shrugged. She finally went over to the closet and grabbed the nicest clothes she could find from the small and, quite frankly, lacking collection of clothes she kept at Marshall’s house.

-Wow, baby. You look… great.

Marshall looked like a man reborn; a phoenix reborn from the ashes. He was a new man. He looked classy and spiffed up. He wore nice jewelry and a nice watch, but not so nice as to draw attention or to gloat upon his success. 

-Thanks, you don’t look too bad yourself.

Y/N smiled as Marshall grabbed her hand and guided her to his car. She knew that her parents would love him no matter what, but she still liked teasing him and making him work for it. 

-Well, are we going?

[ssivinee]

❥ 𝙵𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝙻𝚒𝚗𝚎

ITZY! Racer! Shin Ryujin x F reader x tripleS! Racer! Park Sohyun: After the awkward encounter, you try to avoid the two women, but to your luck, it fails while you're out with your best friend. This seems to work more in your favor, helping your heart get to the finish line.

Word Count: 7.1 k

Author's Note: This is part two of Racing Hearts! I suggest you read part 1 for more background. YOU GUYS HAVE ALSO SPOKEN AND CHOSEN WHO TO END UP WITH, SO KEEP THAT IN MIND😭! ⚠️excessive language is used here⚠️

➳ Character Concept - Jeon Y/n

𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 1 | 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 2

It was a Saturday morning, which meant short work hours at your brother's mechanic shop. You were currently working on a 2005 Honda Civic for an elderly man who brought it in early in the morning. 

Since the last time you saw Ryujin and Sohyun, you practically buried yourself in work, doing your best to avoid any interaction with them.

The race was three weeks ago, and that tension… just had you feeling super anxious about it all. You didn’t want to become the wedge between the two girls, but you couldn’t help but perceive it that way. They basically had a standoff before you left, so of course, it felt heavy to you.

“You’ve been staring at the engine for, like, fifteen minutes, Y/n,” your older brother said as he looked at his watch. “How bout’ you don’t time me and focus on that paperwork?” You ask playfully, but your brother wasn’t having any of it at the moment. “Y/n,” you hear Wonwoo’s stern voice call out, and you sigh, shoulders lowering in defeat.

“Yes?” You turn around, trying to show the most innocent face possible, which had him rolling his eyes hard. “What’s up with you? Since that day, you’ve been staying at the shop late, spacing out, and not even taking time for yourself?”

You were just at a loss for words, sitting in the chair before him. “I- I don’t even know, myself.” 

“Did you enjoy the race with Cheuksin?” He asked with a worried expression on his face. You furiously shake your hands, “I enjoyed it! That just… isn’t the problem.” Wonwoo’s face softened at hearing you sound tired. “So what is it then?” “I really liked racing with them. It felt new and fresh. I just felt so free again,” as you spoke, a cheesy grin formed on your face, causing your brother to be even more curious as to what was puzzling your mind. “It’s Sohyun and Ryujin.”

You tried ending it there, but as you lifted up your head to find your brother's face, it clearly said, ‘Well, elaborate,’ despite no words coming out of his mouth. You sigh again, “When I won the race, the two just felt like… they were declaring they’d fight for me? I don’t even know at this point. I just wouldn’t want to break a friendship, you know?”

“You can’t exactly help how you feel, Y/n. You're only human too. Besides, if their bond is great, your choice wouldn’t get in the way of that,” he explains, trying to be a good older brother and your voice of reason. Yet, hearing that only stressed you out even more. You lift your hands abruptly in defeat as they fall straight down to your sides, “That’s the thing! I don’t know who to choose. I literally met them a month ago, oppa. Also, adding onto the fact that I broke up with Shuhua on the same night we met.”

Now that Wonwoo was seeing the stress on your face, he never liked seeing you like that. It was always a rare occurrence, and when it did happen, Wonwoo always did his best to cheer you up. 

You are his little sister and practically his only family left. When both your parents basically left, he swore he’d protect you, even with love problems like this.

“How bout’ this? You take a day off tomorrow and on Monday. Then, you can hang out with Isa, go shopping, race, and go out of town. Literally anything other than work right now,” you look at him like he’s crazy at the suggestion. “But you’ll be alone, and the store is gonna be bu-”

“You know I’m not taking no for an answer, so,” he shrugs, walking away from you to return to his office. You groan and admit defeat as you head back to working on your car, mumbling, “Yeah, I know.”

Since Wonwoo was doing his best not to hear you argue with him, he let you finish up your work for the rest of the day. As hours passed, it was nighttime, and to avoid you staying longer, Wonwoo turned off the garage lights and locked the door that kept the light switches.

“REALLY?!” You yell as he waves, walking out the door. “Get your stuff and lock up! Thanks!” His grin made you want to slap his face, but you knew your brother had good intentions. So, without wasting another thought in the dark space, you went to your locker, got your belongings out, turned off the lights, locked the store, and drove home.

The ten-minute car ride was quick, as it was late and fewer vehicles were on the road. Once you entered your humble abode, you changed into your slippers and walked sluggishly to your room. As you entered your safe space, you dropped your bag onto the floor and fell onto your bed, not wanting to think about anything anymore.

Your brother gave you a day off, and you didn’t know what to do with it at this point.

You just decided to take a brisk hot shower and lay in bed afterward, scrolling through your phone. As you looked through your social media, you saw Sohyun had posted a new photo. Seeing no harm in it, you decided to look, not knowing what to expect.

But nothing could’ve prepared you for what you saw.

When looking at Sohyun’s feed, it was quite calm, with aspects of her daily life shown. So the selfie of her in a short strapless bodycon dress at a party with her hair tousled out of place was not something you were expecting. 

She looked like she was dancing in the picture, a red solo cup in one hand. Her lips in a smirk, and her eyes were squinting, looking as if they were seducing you into a trap. Added with the effect of purple and blue party lights raining down on her head, she had you almost drooling instantly.

Your eyes travel down to the caption, ‘At a party with so many people, but only looking for you.’ 

That just caused you to turn your phone off and slam it down on the bed. You could just grip your hair with how crazy reading that made you feel. The photo put your brain in a frenzy, so you just had to put yourself in a harder position, huh? You wanted to hit yourself, but try to think of a different way to spend your days off instead to keep your mind off it.

You could do anything, but it was like your brain was on low-power mode. 

It was as if on time, a notification pinged your phone, and when you looked, it was Isa asking if you were free to go shopping with her tomorrow. You mentally praised her and responded with what your brain cells could handle at the moment.

YES, you’re a literal lifesaver right now, Isa.

It was the next day, and you and Isa were already out at the shopping plaza two bags each in hand. “Lord, I legit needed this day off today,” Isa tells you, extremely happy with the free time she was given after so many days of work at the cafe. “You literally own the cafe. Can’t you get a day off whenever you want?”

She shrugs at you with a smile, “That’s not my kind of business owner ethic.” Still walking, the plaza was buzzing with many adults, likely due to it being a weekday. “So~”

“Oh, please don’t,” you say, already expecting the topic that’s about to come up. “What? Are you not feeling the two?” She asked, her face looking like a clueless puppy. “No. I am feeling the two, and that’s the issue!”

“Ah, I love a good love triangle,” she giggles, trying to make light of the situation, but she realizes you were serious about it. “Y/n, you just met them. You shouldn’t have to force anything. Just go with the flow!”

“You weren’t there, Isa. It just felt like I added two new problems into my life when I quite literally just finished one,” you say, insinuating your first problem being Shuhua. “Girl, seriously, try not to stress. Whatever happens, happens. You like who you like, and you love who you love. You know, the whole shebang.”

You laugh, “I just don’t want to be in a position where I have to pick from the two, but I just seem to be heading down that path right now.”

“Well, just have some fun with it. Hang out with both, get to know them more, and find who you want. No need to pressure yourself in choosing and finding love when you don’t have a definite answer.”

That was probably one of the most genuine pieces of advice that Isa gave in a long time, making you go into thought. “Maybe… That actually sounds like a good idea.”

The words slip out of your mouth. You guys go to a stall selling bubble tea and wait in line. As if you manifested it out of your conversation, from the corner of your eyes, you see Sohyun walking with a couple of friends. She wore her glasses, some washed mom jeans, and a hoody, making her quite comfy.

While walking, Sohyun feels the eyes on her. She looks around and finds you in the line of people, a smile forming on her face. “Guys, I’ll catch up in a little,” she tells her friends and walks over to you and Isa.

You tried looking at Isa as if you didn’t see the younger girl in the first place, hoping that would save your ass… at least you tried. As Isa stared at you confusingly, your best friend looked behind you, and she saw someone a tad bit taller towering over you. Once she realizes who it is, she stares at you with wide eyes, and your eyes practically signal, ‘SOS, I DONT KNOW WHAT TO DO!’

" Y/n-unnie?” You heard her voice, and Isa signaled you with her hands to go on, trying to save you from any embarrassment. You coughed, spinning around: “Sohyun! What a coincidence seeing you here.” The tone of your voice evidently confused the young a bit; it was as if you were talking to your pet about how good they were.

One brow was raised, and slight amusement hinted in her face. “Uh yeah, I was just hanging out with some university friends today, and then I got a race later.” You tried to act as if you were interested. Which you were, but all you wanted to do was run away as fast as possible.

“That’s cool. I have the day off, so-”

Shit.

“A day off?” As soon as that sentence slipped out of your mouth, you completely regretted it. Yeah~, my brother told me I’ve been working a lot, so,” you awkwardly giggle, which makes Isa nudge you a bit. You look at her, and she shakes her head, mouthing, ' Stop embarrassing yourself in front of a hottie.’

Sohyun finally noticed you were with a friend. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you guys,” she said, “and Isa got startled at the respectable gesture. Don’t worry, you weren’t.”

You look at the two, and Isa gives you crazy eyes for involving her in this mortifying interaction. “Ah, Sohyun-ah, this is Isa, my childhood best friend,” the younger girl's eyebrows raised at the fact, shaking her hand. “I’m Sohyun.”

“Oh, I know,” Isa says, making Sohyun look at you as you just slapped your forehead with quite the force.

“It’s been quite some time since we hung out. Maybe… you wanna come to the race tonight? You can just watch, too, if you prefer that,” she asks, and you look at Isa, not knowing how to answer. The younger notices the hesitance and clarifies, “You can bring Isa too if you’d like.”

You look at her in surprise, slowly nodding in agreement. “That can work.”

Sohyun’s smile grows excited as she does a tiny dace, “Great! I’ll send you the details, unnie!” She then looks at her phone, her friends pinging her every second they could. “I do have to go. My friends are looking for me, but I’ll see you guys there?” You and Isa nod, still unsure about the idea, as Isa looks more enthusiastic. 

“You just like how painful this is for me,” the two of you inched up in the line, two spots away from the counter. “Oh, most definitely,” your best friend says with an evil grin as you pout at her, finding this entertaining.

As the two of you reach the front of the line, you order your prepared drinks quickly. You then begin walking in the opposite direction of Sohyun and her friends. Your phone receives a notification while sipping your milk tea and thinking of the race.

You see that it’s Sohyun sending you a direct message on Instagram, but when you read it, it feels like your heart drops. ‘Here are the details of the race later tn. I’m sure all of Cheuksin will be happy to see you. Ryujin unnie and I missed you a lot, so :3.’

“Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.” You just mumble and get louder and louder. This had Isa looking around before looking back at you, “Okay, relax before someone thinks you actually needa shit, please.”

“Dude, it totally went over my head that Ryujin is going to be at the race. " As you struggled to process the forgotten information, Isa gave you a deadpanned face. “Ryujin… is literally, like… the leader of her group. You just forgot all that or~?”

“Well, Sherlock, I clearly did,” you roll your eyes at Isa, who giggles. “Stop finding this funny~.”

“I can’t help it,” she says, laughing harder while admitting it.

You and Isa arrived thirty minutes late at the race in your car. Isa suggested that more people be around so it wouldn’t feel awkward. Yet your heart couldn’t stop racing because it likely wouldn’t matter. As your car rolled in, many Cheuksin members remembered the vehicle, giving subtle waves in its direction.

“Well, aren’t you miss popular in these streets,” Isa says, genuinely impressed at everyone waving. You roll your eyes but chuckle, “Maybe I left a good impression.”

“Yeah. After you didn’t show up for three weeks,” Isa cracks at her own joke, and you slap her shoulder, making her give you a fake offensive stare. “Let’s just get this over with.”

The both of you exit your car and stand on the sidewalk, just wanting to be on the sidelines and out of anyone’s vision. You knew someone would tell the two girls about your arrival, but you were delaying the inevitable. 

“It’s been so long~,” Isa practically wines, and you smile. When she lived near Incheon as a child, the two of you religiously hung out. So, realistically, she was there for your early days in racing. Isa had seen the triumphs, the disasters, the breakdowns, and everything under the sun at these events and she always loved them. “You always ate up all the drama at these things.”

You laugh, but she makes another joke, “Yeah, but now you're a part of the drama.” That had your face switched up so fast, causing Isa to laugh even harder. “Dude, this just can’t be happening to me right now,” you groan.

“Hey, stranger,” you hear a soft voice to your close left, causing you to whip your head in that direction to find Sohyun with a goofy smile on her face. “I’m glad you guys could make it.”

“I mean, we were free, so we said, why not,” you tried playing it cool, not wanting to hurt her feelings by being ‘mean.’ “Oh, long time no see,” you heard that deep voice coming from in front of you and it made you nervous.

You see Ryujin walking forward, her strides ever so authoritative. “Didn’t think I’d see you here tonight,” she expresses as her head tilts in curiosity. “Cause I invited her,” the younger butted in, and the both of you gave her a side eye, one more hostile looking than the other. “Word spread fast, so I had to see if it was real.”

“Definitely real,” Isa mumbles, but it catches Ryujin’s attention. She glances between the two of you, a bit confused. “And this is?”

“Uhm, Isa. My best friend,” you tell her as you feel your heart racing and your palms getting a bit sweaty. “Childhood best friend,” Isa emphasizes, making the leader chuckle. “Had to establish the title there, huh?” Isa nods in a joking manner, and her hand points at Ryujin.

“Are you gonna stay until my race at the end?”

The question was so innocent, but it felt that it was entailing something more. Your nervousness wasn’t so noticeable, but as an observant one, Sohyun felt the vibes shift once Ryujin walked over. While watching the two of you, the younger didn’t want to accept that her mentor had this kind of effect on you.

The effect that had a person weak to the knees, or as if they were holding their breath. It made Sohyun feel unworthy of your attention, especially since you felt more nonchalant at the shopping plaza earlier in the day.

She decided to butt in, trying to still catch your attention. “Y/n unnie, can you cheer for me?” You were taken aback by the request, looking back at Ryujin, but gave in, “Of course, Hyun.”

You just saying her nickname made her heart skip a beat. Only people close to her used the name, and the two of you didn’t interact much, but it just did something to her. She may have felt like she was overreacting, but these are the kind of small gestures she was looking for from you.

Ryujin notices her protege’s attempts, trying not to glare at the girl. There was no reason to be territorial over you. It felt far too soon for that.

But Ryujin was a woman who knew what she wanted, and she wanted you. She was willing to make that happen, even if it meant of getting in Sohyun’s way. 

As a leader, Ryujin was rarely ever mean, aggressive, or power hungry. In fact she was alway nice, sweet, and heroic for a lot of Cheuksin’s member. Yet in her heart, she knew, that it was okay to be selfish once in a while, especially if it was the sake of her love life.

“Make sure you stay till the end, okay?” Ryujin asks, softening her tone. You look at her, perplexed as to why she sounded a bit desperate there, “why?” 

“I wanna have a pretty trophy for tonight,” she says, walking away backward with a smirk. She wasn’t telling you nor saying the trophy was you, but you knew exactly what she was implying without saying it. You were speechless at the smooth comment, your stomach filling with butterflies instantly. Isa slaps your arm as she squeals, “that was so hot,” she whispers in your ear.

You hear a slight cough, remembering Sohyun was still beside you. The girl didn’t want to make it obvious but was irritated. She invited you here, so she should be getting this attention.

She would admit she isn’t one to have so much charisma. Sohyun may have been popular, but she was a nerd, shy, and a bit awkward at times. The only way she could probably compete with Ryujin in that aspect was with her driving… and some liquid courage, which was obviously impossible for tonight.

“I don’t blame her,” Sohyun admits to you, and now you are back in confusion. “I’d wanna win a prize as good as you,” she smiles. Now, this was cute, and it made your heart wanna burst as she walked back to her car.

“They’re basically having a rizz battle over you, girl.” Isa laughs at your disgusted face, “Never say that shit ever again, please,” you giggle as she throws her hands up. In your friendship, she had always been the comedian, which was a relief ninety percent of the time, so you weren’t always stressed out.

After a few minutes, an announcement blares from a mega phone, stating the next race with the racers, which included Sohyun. This wasn’t a Cheuksin exclusive event so you were surprised to hear the infamous Yeonjun being there against her again.

“Oh dear,” you mumbled and Isa looks into the street, seeing his fiery red hair in his car. “As in like… Djinn, Yeonjun?” You reluctantly nod at the question. “Then oh dear, indeed.”

As you watch, Sohyun sat in her car, eyes shut as she did her best to calm her nerves. She kept telling herself that she’s beaten him once, but knowing in the back of her mind, you were watching made her heart race. Since seeing you race, Sohyun wanted to do something that could impress and amazing racer like you. 

That meant if she had to get reckless in this race… she would.

When the flag girl’s voice was loud and clear on go, Sohyun and Yeonjun could be seen neck and neck right out the gates. 

The vice captain of Djinn thought he would take his revenge, so despite the rest of the crew not being there, he was gonna do anything to win. Little did he know that the newbie was feeling the exact same way.

The dron flew around, following the race with its camera and everyone pulls out their phones. The track was insanely harder than the last, their were many sharp turns, a straight line to the freeway, and it was going into many busy streets with many cars.

The four cars hit the first sharp turn, Sohyun taking a smaller drift to stay in front. Yeonjun wouldn’t let her off easy though, as he smoothly follows, almost rearing her car. “I’m gonna win this shit today,” Yeonjun tells himself, the aggressiveness begging to simmer. Everyone dislikes losing, but Yeonjun was one that hated feeling like a sore loser in anything, which was quite obvious with his dirty tactics.

Another sharp turn followed, the street leading up to the free way. Sohyun saw a car double parked in front of her and the smartest thing would be to remove herself from the lane instantly, but when she looks in her rearview mirror, she sees Yeonjun’s vicious smirk basically toying with her.

That made the next decision easy.

Sohyun would clutch her gear shift, moving it down to speed up the vehicle with the car in the way. You watched, eyes widening trying to run over to Ryujin as Isa followed. “What the fuck is she thinking?” You asked the leader, eyes glued to the phone. That decision could end ugly and you wouldn’t want to think of any racer getting hurt. 

“I’m not sure,” Ryujin mumbles, slightly worried at the odd choice. Was she doing this to impress you? That thought made Ryujin furious. She was aware that her and Sohyun liked you, but putting her life in danger? That was a line that Ryujin wasn’t willing to cross over a race like this.

“She better move that clutch and get out the way now!” As if Sohyun heard you from miles away, she swerved out the way. Behind her, Yeonjun’s eyes go wide at the move, and seeing the car in front of him, he doesn’t have enough time to process, swerving out of the way and into the side walk.

“Crazy bitch!” Yeonjun slams his fist on the steering wheel, and does his best to compose himself as he backed up. Yet the other two cars passing him surely didn’t help his anger. “What the actual fuck was that?” Isa asks, concern in her tone. All the years she had watched you and your brother race, she had never seen someone do such a risky move like that.

She basically had the intent to hurt Yeonjun, which didn’t sit well with you or your best friend. Sohyun on the other hand kept driving, not knowing if she was actually mentally ill or proud of what she had done. As she gets on the freeway, Sohyun successfully weaves through every car. 

The young girl was getting confident until she heard cars honking behind her from afar. Sohyun peaks at her right side mirror seeing a raging Yeonjun who was overtaking cars fast, close to making several accidents happen. “What is going on in this race?” You help your forehead, shaking it in disappointment. Ryujin takes a glimpse at you, and when looking back to her phone, she didn’t know what to think. “Your playing a dumb game here, Hyun,” she mumbles.

Sohyun drives past the last car, turning as fast as she can into the race treacks exit. As she reaches the busy streets, she does her best to avoid people and the cars but it seemed that her situation wasn’t stopping Yeonjun from going crazy. In a fit of rage, he started bumping into parked cars, the paint of his car were getting chipped, and little dents could be found all around. 

“Yeonjun looks like he's about to go on a rampage…” Isa tells both you and Ryujin, the both of you looking extremely worried. He was gaining speed quick, almost as if her wanted to ram her car so bad. Sohyun was beginning to sweat bullets, until she takes a quick turn, taking a slight short cut which causes Yeonjun to crash a little harder that before. “Dammit! Dammit! Dammit!” At this rate he couldn’t catch up, and the younger sighs in relief. 

She comes across the finish line, the two of the races far behind due to the scene and you couldn’t help but feel annoyed. This wasn’t the kind of racing you liked, and as much as you knew of Sohyun’s potential, you’d never want her to race like that ever again.

Sohyun runs over to you, Ryujin, and Isa with a large grin on her face, seemingly proud of her efforts. “How’d I do?” “Well, you won,” Ryujin states the obvious, not knowing whether she should approve of her in the moment, or be disappointed at her letting her emotions run wild. Sohyun’s eyes look at you all puppy like but you can’t help but look at her with such dismay.

Although, you understood emotions getting the nest of you, especially as a new racer so you didn’t want to go too hard on her. You sigh but give a tight lipped smile, “You did good, but please try not to race like that ever again.” The tone of your voice made Sohyun a bit sad but she can only nod, understanding that it was mainly out of concern. Seeing this, Ryujin smiles but then remembers Yeonjun.

“You may have dealt with him today, but Yeonjun will likely have a big target on your back… possibly all of Djinn as well.”

“Well, I guess I’ve officially made them an enemy,” Sohyun whines but you outright laugh. “You don’t even have to worry about that. Djinn has been trying to get at Cheuksin for years, and I mean many years. They won’t be a threat to you guys. Well, that’s not to say Yeonjun won’t be a threat to you, but you have trustworthy members by your side,” you point over at the majority of the crew, her best friends Jay and Jake giving a small wave and some enthusiastic thumbs up which has Sohyun and Ryujin chuckle.

“Well, I guess I’m up,” Ryujin tells all of you, waving off to her car as she gets ready. You then began to think of a big possibility, “Shuhua won’t be here, will she?”

Those words had Isa thinking of the worst.  Sohyun shakes her head furiously. “You don’t have to worry. Shuhua seems to have slown down on racing since the Turf Races.”

Isa jokes, “Don’t tell me she’s heartbroken or something?” You laugh at the joke as well, but Sohyun makes this weird face basically saying, ‘kinda?’

“You can’t be serious now…” You looked reluctant to believe it but Sohyun shrugs. “You must’ve done a number on her. Apparently her last race was two weeks ago in Incheon and she lost. Seems to be on a losing streak as well.”

Isa looks at you, quite impressed with your usual, ‘heartbreaking powers’ as she likes to call them. You begin to hear engines reaving, seeing Ryujin’s car at the starting point. From what the drone showed, it seemed like the race track would be quite different. The four cars would be going through the same sharp turns but they’ll stay on the freeway longer, reaching a long tunnel that many vehicles don’t usually take, then they circle around, taking a more curved path while coming back.

You weren’t even paying attention and as the race began, you were so pleased to watch Ryujin drive so effortlessly. It’s so evident in how smoothly she drives her Shelby, no surprising moves, no insane tricks, and it just felt relaxing to watch. Not heart pumping, but still exciting. It was the traditional racing Wonwoo surrounded you with growing up. 

It felt like comfort. Felt like home, actually.

You smiled at the way she maneuvered, it looked like watching pure perfection. The close calls didn’t feel like that what’s so ever, just the tire marks looking like perfect curves, and how effortlessly she would speed up when needed.

As the group traveled into the tunnel, the drone flew lower giving everyone who watched a closer view. It zoomed in front of Ryujin who had the relaxed expression on her face, the evident deep breaths she took made her feel comfortable in each spot.

You watched as she made use of her large space, increasing the gap she had with the three cars. They did a fast loop around in a busier road, she would smoothly move out of the way, just her heart at ease. While driving, Ryujin could feel the adrenaline rising, but she regulated her breathing, trying to keep her head clear.

Which clearly paid off, since she passes the finish line further ahead than the other racers. 

Everyone begins to cheer and you clap, clearly impressed by her performance. When Sohyun looked at you and saw the significant difference in your face while watching both races, she couldn’t help but be disappointed with herself.

She had a plan, to show of what she’s capable of, but it just backfired with making Ryujin look like the better person. “So~, how’d I do?” Ryujin asks you as she walks up, her forearms reaching out.

You were almost speechless by what you saw, but just almost. “You did amazing,” you say with a smile, giving her a genuine hug. You haven’t enjoyed that kind of racing since Wonwoo’s last race seven years ago. Just watching it all had your heart swelling out of joy.

Sohyun watched from afar, getting annoyed, and just stormed off while only Ryujin took notice. You and Isa couldn’t even tell especiall with all the ruckus going on in the crowd.

“Wanna stop ignoring me now and come to my our races?” Ryujin quipped in a joking manner but those words shocked you. She noticed despite not knowing you for so long.

“Dude, when I tell you she raced like how you used to. You’d have to see it for yourself oppa!” 

It was the day you got back to work, and Wonwoo had been given an earful about the races in the past few hours. “I know, I saw everything,” you look at him confused, “how?”

“I think you forget, these races are live streamed. I was fixing up a motorcycle here while watching,” you were gonna say something, but held back your tongue knowing you did forget. “That Sohyun kid… she did some very questionable things out there,” you heard him say as he worked under a car. You could only sigh, “I know! I tried telling her not to…”

“Do you think-” He pauses, not knowing whether he should say it or not. “Do I think what?”

“Do you think she did those things to show off to you?” You halt from working on the engine in front of you, not liking the way your brain was thinking. “I would hope not.”

“Don’t forget, she’s a young, new racer, Y/n/n. It gets the best of everyone sometimes,” you were aware of that, but it still didn’t sit right with you. “I wouldn’t want anyone risking their own safety for me. She also put another racer at risk,” you grunted, more frustrated than anything.

“I know Yeonjun is a dick, but it doesn’t justify why she did. Two wrongs do not make a right,” you emphasis your last sentence and Wonwoo preaches, “That I will always agree on. Never stoop lower. Ever. Because once you do and get into the habit of it-”

“There’s always a high possibly of you getting hurt in the end,” you say at the same time as him, always remembering your older brothers words when racing. Everything Sohyun did went against your morals. Yeonjun does play dirty, theres no doubt about it, but he also had a reasonable excuse to be angry. He just can’t control his emotions properly.

As you were about to switch to pliers, your phone rings and you see Ryujin’s contact name come up. After her race, she boldy asked for your number saying, “Now I think the only reward I’ll accept today is your number.” 

You open up the text reading ‘pls come to Cheuksin’s spot tonight at eight.’ And that was it. You rolled your eyes subconsciously, finding her suspiciousness funny, so you reply ‘sure,’ leaving it at that.

Once 7:30 rolls around, you say bye to your brother, and going home for a brisk shower and change of outfit. You washed up and changed into some more comfortable running sneakers, some black legging, and a cropped off the shoulder knitted sweater.

Driving to the spot took no long than twenty minutes, and you see everyone hanging out under the bridge. As you parked your car and walked over, you find Ryujin standing in the middle. Sohyun, who didn’t look surprise at all to see you, makes eye contact. Her eyes were full of sadness, and she looked down to her knees quickly while sitting on a lawn chair. 

“Since you were all free today, I decided to call an emergency meeting,” Ryujin looks around, then sees you and gives a small wave. You smile at the small gesture and she continues, “There are a few things I want to speak about tonight.”

“One, Sohyun and your race,” she looks at Sohyun who still hasnt raised her head, knowing she was about to get told off. “I get it,” the leader starts and Sohyun looks up surprised. “You’re a young racer. Less experience, and we all make dumb decisions. Although that doesn’t mean your let off the hook tonight.”

“No matter what you are feeling in the moment, no matter whose around, none of you should be putting your safety at risk for a race. With that being said, Sohyun is suspended from racing for two weeks. What happened that day isn’t against the racing rules, but we have order here in Cheuksin, but we also care about all of our racers, so please keep that in mind.”

Sohyun knew it, it was going to be her likely punishment anyways but she still couldn’t help but be so angry at herself. 

Ryujin continued with all her announcements like more races, some meeting with the ‘alumni’ of Cheuksin, and everything she could fit in that moment. She ends the meeting, but everyone stays, enjoying each others company. Ryujin walks over to you and you proceed to look impressed, “Did you invite me here to show off your leader skill?”

She laughs, “I just thought it would be fun, okay?” You carry on the conversation with her, Ryujin keeping a beautiful smile on your face. As the two of you were enjoying yourselves, you catch Sohyun sitting far away from everyone at the corner of your eye. You feel terribly bad and say, “I’ll be back.” Ryujin sees you walking over to her direction, sighing.

Ryujin wasn’t cocky, but she was sure you liked her more than Sohyun, but it was also clear that you had a big heart. 

“Well this isn’t a way to party now,” Sohyun hears your voice and jolts up. “Oh, hey, Y/n,” she sounded so out of it, and you just sit down next to her, letting the silence engulf the both of you. It was a comfortable silence, but in Sohyun’s mind, she seemed to be having an internal warfare until she made up her mind.

“You know I like you, right?” After five minutes of silence, Sohyun admits her feelings. “Wha-”

“I like you,” You look at her surprised, it was obvious but just outright saying it was now what you were expecting out of just sitting next to her. “Your kind, smart, experienced, knowledgeable, pretty, and everything I could want in a woman,” she said, lowering her head once she called you pretty. 

You didn’t know what to say, “Sohyun I-”

“Just… listen first, please?” You shut your mouth quickly, letting her pour everything out. “When I first saw you, I thought the the world sent me a goddess when I needed it. Any racer, no, any person out thee would find you perfect. I guess, I’m just glad that I feel seen by you, even if it isn’t much.”

“...but I know you like her,” Sohyun voices, her voice feeling frail at the reality. “Like who?” “I know you like Ryujin, Y/n. It isn’t exactly a secret. We’ve both known you for the same amount of time, but you see Ryujin for all that she is. Her talent, her brains, her demenour, her personality.”

She sighs leaning her head back, trying to not let the tears fall, “You guys are perfect for each other,” she whispered. “Sohyun-” “You should go back to her,” She tells you, wiping her tearful eyes quickly, not wanting to cry in front of you. Before you get up and got cut off again, you just tell her, “You’re a greet person, Hyun, and a great Racer. It’s just a small bump in the road. Remember that?” She nodded, looking away from you.

You walked back over to Ryujin who waited while leaning on her own car. “Good talk?” Your face morphs indifferently, “It was something.” She sees the sad gaze you give Sohyun, and decides to do something nice to put a smile on your face. Ryujin begins pulling your arm over to the passenger seat, opening the door for you, “Come on, let’s go for a drive.”

You stood there, really confused, “Huh? What about my car?” She pushes you in lightly, but you willingly go in yourself, “We’ll come back for it don’t worry.”

She hops into the driver seat, and the ride was in comfortable silence as the empty roads felt serene. Ryujin stops her car at an abandoned lot that was large yet in the middle of nowhere. She signals to exit the vehicle and lays on the hood of her car, you follow, just leaning on it. 

“I wanted to get away with you, even if it was just for a moment,” Ryujin tells you, and you look up at the dark sky, seeing specks of stars. “This is beautiful,” she leans up, looking at your face, “it is.” You turn your head, finding her gaze and blush hard whil quickly looking away.

“I hope… you go easy on Hyun. The girl has so much talent and the moment got to her,” you nod, understanding the situation. “I know, I just always hated racing that way. Wonwoo kind of wired me that way,” you chuckle. 

Ryujin wanted to say it now, she wanted to say she liked you, before you could slip out of her grasp. But instead of saying her feelings, she randomly goes, “Wanna take my car for a spin?” Your eyes widen. Within racing culture, letting others drive your car was pretty rare because of how much people cared for their vehicles. “But not anyone should be driving racers cars.”

“You aren’t just anyone, Y/n,” those words made your heart jump, the racing feeling happening in your chest instead. She tosses her keys to you, and you catch it with ease. “Come on~” She whines, making you smile and get in from the drivers side. You start of the car, the feeling of the leather steering wheel making you feel comfortable. “Book it,” Ryujin says, and you look at her. She looks straight ahead with a smile, confident in your abilities. “Well, you said so,” you move the clutch and drive at a high speed.

The lot was enormous, making you drift whenever and wherever as Ryujin just smiles at the experience. She had never let anyone drive her Shelby, but she was glad to give the first opportunity to you. She know she was an excellent driving, but being in the car while you took the wheel felt otherworldly. Your hand looked so delicate on the clutch and wheel and every movement you made felt like you culd do this in your sleep.

“God, how can I not like you?” Ryujin says in the spur of the moment, but doesnt regret it as you stop the car super abruptly, the both of you jolting forward ever so slightly. “Okay, ouch. But what did you just say?” She rubs her neck a bit, the slight pain lingering from the whiplash. “I said, how can I not like you?”

…You looked as if you seen a ghost, keeping your mouth shut tight and Ryujin laughs at the reaction. “Come on~, I knew it was obvious, no?”

“I mean, yeah, but hearing it makes it feel real.”

“But it is real. I like you a lot, Y/n,” Ryujin confesses and you feel your shoulders relaxing, her words fully processing in your mind. “I like you a lot too,” You tell her with a smile, and Ryujin just wanted to kiss your beautiful face right then and there, but she wanted to cherish you and take it slow. “How ‘bout we grab a bite?”

“Is this you asking me out?” Ryujin looks offended, shaking her head rapidly. “First off, our first date will definitely be more prepared. I just want to spend the night with you and have the night never end,” her eyes twinkled due to the moonlight and your cheeks flush a bit.

“Then I’d love to.”

[changbinsboobs]

Changbin as husband is next I'm curious for his and hyunjinss

This is the longest fucking reading I've ever had so i just HAD to split it in 2 parts so bear with me. I love him but i hate him right now😩 (no im not)

Husband Series: Changbin pt. 1

Ugh...that guy🫠 i bet you if i let him use up my whole deck he would. The amount of "ok last card" i had to say...and yet there was still so much gushing put...and ugh, i just can't stress enough how much into details he is and how much he wants to stress on them and make sure they don't go unnoticed or get misunderstood or overlooked. Reminds me so much of my audhd friend😭. Anyways back on track - tho i don't even know where to begin from, i really think he used up half my deck. I just counted 23 cards😳 i do indeed draw a lot for the others too but thats just next level. Not on topic but i think he's a really chatty drunk😂 now i wanna read on them when drunk🙌🏻😂

Ok soooo since i have so many cards ill try to combine them as much as i can and keep the messages as concise as possible so this post doesn't become a novel - the overall energy i noticed here is not so much emphasis on him as a husband but overall him as a partner in a committed relationship. Which leads me to believe he himself doesn't view marriage with such dread as the others did (there wasn't really any dread with felix bust still a certain anxiety around responsibilities, meanwhile that with changbin is absolutely nonexistent). I would say he seems himself as capable and even ready to take on that responsibility and role if the opportunity presents itself and i think he believes he'll do a good job. He's responsible, capable and can take care of it. I actually sense a feeling of pride in him about that.

Another MAJOR theme is him being a "simp" for his partner (he insists on wife). There are many cards that im trying to sum up:

He's very protective over her and doesn't let anyone say shit about her, he's giving me guard dog vibes. Also a big bodyguardy. I can see him when being out with her eyeing people and being on alert and just idk, looking scary as to scare of any weirdos before they even think about trying something. And to clear any misunderstandings up, im really not getting this coming from jealousy (not that its not there, it is😂, but its just 10% reason, out of 100), but rather because he wants the woman he loves to feel safe and protected around him. He wants her to be able to relax and trust that he will always have her back and keep her safe. He wants her pretty little witty head not to be bothered by ANYTHING!

More from the simpy train - looks up to her a lot and kinda puts her a bit on a pedestal. This is not a very debilitating energy but feels rather like something he has made peace with and accepts - which is that she is indeed better than him and he can never be able to reach her, which means he is incredibly lucky and appreciative of the fact a woman like that has chosen him and he tries whatever he can to live up to her standard and continue to give her reasons to stay with him and continue to love him. Although she can never love him as much as he does (thats his thought🥲). But as i said this doesn't feel victimy to me at all but rather just seems realistic to him and he's a big boy and can accept reality for what it is and choose to feel lucky instead of beating himself up for not being good enough and self sabotage. Im actually really shocked looking at his energy because i can really feel the strength of his mind and ughh just how innovative and flexible he is. His will is just astounding and making me really happy, despite him obviously having some issues he doesn't let himself be defined by it and chooses to spin them to him favor. What an amazing guy💗

Back to the reading - so he spends a lot of time in his head, doing A LOT of 2 things. One is being thinking of his girl and what he can do to make her happy, analyzing previous conversations to see if he missed something or if he has remembered everything. Contemplating if she maybe gave him a hint about something, or if she maybe looked hesitant with something. Maybe her body language was off? He notes that. If there was any difference in her behaviour today, if she looked different. He's really putting LOTS of energy thinking about her and analyzing her and her behaviour. Again this doesn't seem to come from distrust (although he thinks of that as well, its just not his motivator, he just considers everything, thats why) but rather for his own feeling of safety. I think he is a very thoughtful and analyzing and sensitive person in nature so this may be something he always does, except when its something very important to him, and a relationship at that - he does it even more intensely. He doesn't only think about and analyze her tho. He does that to him too, to their relationship as well. He just wants to have a good understanding and overview of everything that is happening in the relationship so he has a sense of control and safety. You can always fix something if you know its broken. Or beginning to bend. You can fix the problem before the branch brakes i think is what he wants to say. And he wants things to run as smoothly as possible with them, and once again he has taken on the responsibility to make his girls life as easy and carefree as possible and how can that happen if he leaves the whole relationship in her hands?! He can't, so he doesn't his part very diligently and tries to keep up on the same level as her, emotional-intelligence-wise.

He also doesn't to just thinking but planing & organizing. So i think he takes lots of care for other stuff too like planing and booking fun dates. If he cant attend then books fun stuff for her. Provide her with the needed tools/means for her to be able to create, to indulge in her hobbies. He really loves that feminine creator energy and really wants to do his best to encourage and provide an encouraging environment for his wife to get in her feminine creator energy and bring him joy with it. Also thats really random but he's always ready and loves giving her massages😂💗(after her long day of crafting). He just loves hearing about it, seeing the excitement in her voice and face. It charges him.

He also spends lots of time fantasizing about her. Reminiscing wonderful dates, imagining potential future ones, creating scenarios etc. He's just A LOT in his head, his mind is really really active, and its very occupied with his love. Also another random message, commitment and love are tied with him somehow. Im seeing he cant commit if he doesn't love but he also cant love if he can't commit. So i would say he's very extreme-y. Like he's either all in or all out. No middle ground. What i mean is he HAS to be this intense in a relationship because for him thats commitment, THATS expressing love. And if he's not able to do that, then his love and interest and enthusiasm begin to fade away. He HAS to be able to be like that in a relationship and i think often he has been labeled (or was) just WAYYY TOO MUCH for the girls he has been in a relationship with. Im seeing he can get very overwhelming and overbearing if the person he's with just isn't the person to enjoy that kind of commitment and effort. But to go back to the cards, he also fantasizes about physical stuff too, for example he's riding in the car, and for the whole ride he's imagining and giggling and wiggling his feet and twirling his hairs because he plays over and over how that one time while they were still just dating she looked him in the eyes with that wet sexy look, and how his whole body got shivers and his stomach dropped and his heart skipped and his palms got sweaty and he swears some saliva started dripping out the corner of his mouth and his knees got weak and he almost felt like he was gonna black out and by the time he came back to his senses she was already sooo close to his lips and them BAM. Fireworks everywhere. He can never forget how that wonderful kiss felt and how sweet the sexual tension and anticipation before it was. He plays stuff like that OVER AND OVER again the whole damn day.

While being on physical stuff, he is pretty horny ill say. But not in a bunny way,m where he wants to fuck 5 times a day, but rather when around his girl he's always half way up, always ready to rise for the occasion iykwim. I think he gets *excited*👀 very easily and is just really weak when it comes to his girl. He's always ready to deliver whenever she ask, whatever she asks. Als im seeing once again he's a giver (and despite him loving head so much) he's focused on her pleasure and he can off just from watching her enjoy...whatever it is. So yeah thats that😂

Bro im so tired im thinking about doing this in 2 parts😭 im just halfway. Ok yk what im splitting it.

[biblical-chronicles]

Breaking the script

___________________________________________________

where the reader is cast in a High Flying Birds music video but the line between acting and reality becomes quite blurry.

(Right you lot, this one’s for the grown-ups, yeah? But don’t worry it's all done proper classy, if you know what I mean)

___________________________________________________

It had been a rough few weeks. The gigs weren’t coming as often as you’d hoped, and money was running tighter than ever. You sat on the edge of your flat’s bed, chewing on your lip as you dialed your agent.

"Look," you started after a few pleasantries. "I’m proper brassic this month. Is there anything going? Backup vocals? A commercial? I’ll do a bloody jingle for washing-up liquid at this rate.”

Your agent, a patient but perpetually stressed woman named Mandy, hummed on the other end. “I’ll see what I can dig up. Might be a bit of a wait, but hold tight.”

“Ta, Mandy,” you said, hoping she could hear the gratitude in your voice. You needed this break, even if it was just enough to get you through another month.

A few days later, your phone buzzed while you were out grabbing a coffee. You nearly spilled it fumbling to answer.

“Alright,” Mandy said. “I’ve got something for you. It’s a music video job. Couple of auditions to send in, but I think you’ve got a decent shot since you've done some work before.”

“A music video?” you asked, trying not to sound too desperate. “Who’s it for?”

There was a slight pause on the line before Mandy said, “Noel Gallagher’s High Flying Birds.”

You nearly dropped your coffee. “You’re joking.”

“Dead serious. It’s for the next single, big budget production, too.”

Heart pounding, you tried to keep your voice steady. “What’s the role?”

“Well, the brief’s a bit vague,” Mandy admitted. “Could be anything from a featured extra to a lead. You’ll have to wait and see if you get it. Just send over the tapes as soon as you can.”

When the call ended, you slumped into your chair, trying to wrap your head around it. A potential job with Noel Gallagher? You quickly gathered your thoughts and got to work recording the audition tapes, pouring everything you had into them.

A week later, Mandy called back. “Good news—you got it. And not just any role, love. You’re the lead.”

The words barely registered at first. “The… lead?”

“Yup. Looks like you’ll be playing opposite Noel himself.”

You felt a mix of excitement and sheer panic. “What’s the script like?”

“It’s a bit abstract,” Mandy explained. “But, uh… there’s a kissing scene.”

Your stomach flipped. “Right,” you said faintly.

“You’ll be fine,” Mandy reassured you. “Just keep it professional, yeah? No fangirling.”

The next few days were a blur of preparation. When you finally got the script, your nerves kicked into overdrive. The kissing scene was there, clear as day. You tried not to dwell on it—after all, it was just acting, but the thought of being that close to Noel made your heart race.

The day of the shoot arrived in a haze of nerves and excitement. You were ushered into hair and makeup the moment you arrived on set. The stylists worked quickly, crafting a look that was sort of timeless and fit the aesthetic of the project.

“As you already know you’re playing opposite Noel,” a production assistant had casually mentioned as she handed you the day’s schedule. “He’s already in the building. Shouldn’t be long now.”

Your heart skipped a beat, not only meeting, but also working with him still felt quite surreal.

Once your look was finished, they led you to a side room where Noel was waiting. As you entered, he was perched on the arm of a chair, one foot on the floor, flipping through the script like he couldn’t care less. When he looked up, his sharp blue eyes met yours, and for a second, you forgot how to breathe.

“Ah, so you’re the one they’ve stuck me with,” he said, standing and tucking the script under his arm. His voice as dry and deadpan as you’d imagined.

“Hi, I’m Y/N,” you said, sticking out your hand.

“Noel,” he said simply, shaking it with a firm grip. He gave you a once-over—not in a rude way, but with a hint of curiousity. “Right then, you reckon you’re ready for this?”

You laughed nervously. “I hope so.”

He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth lifting in a small smirk. “Well, no pressure or owt. Just me name on the line if you’re shite.”

You blinked, unsure how to respond until you caught the playful glint in his eye. “No pressure for you either, right? Only the whole world watching if you’re shite.”

He chuckled, a low, genuine sound. “Fair play.”

Just then, one of the assistants poked their head in to tell you both that you had an hour or so before filming started. “Right, well,” Noel said once they were gone, “might as well sit down. We’re supposed to be in love or summat, so better get on.”

You hesitated. “Are you sure? I don’t want to bother you.”

He waved you off. “You’ll be less of a bother here than legging it round the place. Sit.”

You sat beside him on the couch, careful to leave a bit of space, but he leaned back casually, his knee brushing yours. He reached into his pocket, pulling out some chuddy. “You want one?”

“Uh, sure.” You took the piece he offered, unwrapping it while he popped one in his mouth.

Silence settled between you for a moment as you fiddled nervously with the wrapper in your hands. Noel was the one to break it. “So, you’re from round here, then?”

“Yeah,” you replied with a nod. “Grew up near Burnage.”

He raised an eyebrow, a grin tugging at his lips. “Ah, so you’re proper local, then. That’s more like it.”

You chuckled, shrugging. “Yeah, nothing fancy. Just tried to keep my head down and graft, you know?”

He nodded, his grin softening. “Well, seems like it’s paying off now.”

The conversation flowed easily from there. He asked about your life then music, your influences, what got you into it in the first place. His questions weren’t just polite—they seemed genuinely curious. On top of that, he had this way of looking at you when you spoke, like he was actually listening, not just waiting for his turn to talk. It made you feel seen in a way you hadn’t expected.

At one point, you cracked a joke about struggling through a particularly bad gig, and when you gestured, your hand brushed his arm. He didn’t move away, and instead, his eyes lingered on yours for a fraction longer than necessary.

“You’ve got your head screwed on right for a youngin,” he said after a while, nodding slightly. “Don’t see that much in this business.”

You felt your cheeks heat up. “That means a lot coming from you.”

He shrugged, but his eyes softened. “Don’t let it go to your head, though.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you quipped, smiling.

He chuckled, and the corner of his mouth twitched into that smirk again. The kind of smirk that could make anyone weak at the knees. Before either of you could say more, there was a knock at the door.

“Right,” called the assistant. “Time to head to set.”

The first scenes were easier than you’d expected—walking through some streets, laughing together, doing some hand holding here and there. The chemistry between you and Noel came quite naturally, he seemed relaxed, even playful at times.

By the time you reached the final scene—set in the car—you were buzzing with a mix of excitement and nerves.

You slid into the passenger seat while Noel climbed into the driver’s side. He adjusted the mirror, glancing at you sideways with a faint grin. “You reckon this’ll win us a BAFTA?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Doubt it, but maybe we’ll get a free drink at the afterparty.”

“Oh, well then, worth the hassle,” he said dryly. After a beat, he added, “You’ve done good today, y’know.”

The sincerity in his voice caught you off guard. “Ta” you said, smiling shyly. “I’ve really enjoyed it.”

He turned his head toward you fully, his eyes catching yours. “Yeah? Not bad spending the day with an old git like me?”

“You’re not that old,” you teased, trying to lighten the mood. “And anyway, you’ve still got your charm.”

His lips twitched into a smirk, but before he could respond, the crew interrupted with final instructions. “Alright,” the director called. “Let’s make it look real, yeah? Just natural.”

You and Noel nodded, and the cameras started rolling.

The director gave a few last-minute instructions, and you both nodded, settling into your places. The car was dimly lit, the scene designed to feel intimate and slightly moody. You adjusted your position in the passenger seat, suddenly hyper-aware of the closeness between you and Noel.

He glanced at you, his lips quirking into that familiar smirk. “Don’t look so terrified. It’s not real, y’know.”

You gave him a shaky laugh, trying to steady your nerves. “Oh, cheers for the reminder. You should write self-help books with lines like that.”

He chuckled, leaning back in his seat as he adjusted his collar. “Right, let’s get this over with, eh? Can’t be harder than sitting through Liam’s tantrums.”

You stifled a giggle just as the director called action. Noel turned to you, his expression softening as he slipped into character. It was incredible how effortlessly he shifted from his usual sarcastic demeanor to something that felt so real. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face with a tenderness that made your stomach flip.

You leaned in, just as the script called for, and suddenly his lips were on yours. At first, it was soft—hesitant, almost—but then something shifted. His hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer. The kiss deepened, and before you knew it, it didn't feel like just acting anymore. His lips moved with an intensity that made your head spin, and your fingers curled instinctively into the fabric of his shirt.

Somewhere in the background, you vaguely heard a muffled giggle, but it didn’t register until the director’s voice rang out: “Cut! Oi, you two, save it for later!”

You pulled back abruptly, your face burning as you glanced at the crew. A couple of them were snickering behind their cameras, and the director looked half-amused, half-exasperated. Noel, however, didn’t seem the least bit bothered. He leaned back in his seat, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and gave the crew a lazy grin.

“What? Thought you lot said natural.”

The crew laughed, and the director shook his head. Meanwhile, you were desperately trying to compose yourself, your heart still pounding from the kiss.

Before you could say anything, Noel’s agent appeared by his side, clipboard in hand. “Noel, got a couple of things to go over before you’re done for the day.”

Noel sighed, standing up and giving the car door a light push. “Right. Can’t bloody wait.”

As he turned to follow the agent, he paused, leaning down so only you could hear. “Give it half an hour, yeah? Come by my room.” His voice was low, his breath warm against your ear.

All you could do was nod, too stunned to speak. He gave you a quick wink before walking off, leaving you to sit there with your thoughts spiraling in a hundred different directions.

After taking a moment to collect yourself, you returned to the dressing area to freshen up. Your reflection in the mirror betrayed just how flustered you were—cheeks flushed, lips still slightly swollen from the kiss. You dabbed on some powder, trying to steady your nerves as you checked the time. Exactly thirty minutes had passed when you made your way to his room.

You hesitated outside the door, your hand hovering just above the wood. What am I even doing? you thought. Before you could talk yourself out of it, the door swung open, and there he was.

“Thought I heard you mooching around out here,” Noel said, leaning casually against the doorframe. His tone was light, but his eyes had that same intensity from earlier, the kind that made it hard to look away. “C’mon in.”

You stepped inside, noting how sparse the room was—just a couch, a small table, and a couple of suitcases. He closed the door behind you, and the click of the lock sent a shiver down your spine.

“Alright, then,” he said, nodding toward the couch. “Make yourself comfortable”

You obeyed, perching on the edge of the cushion while he sat next to you, arms crossed. For a moment, neither of you spoke. His gaze lingered on you, his head tilted slightly, like he was trying to figure you out.

“You’ve been driving me bloody crazy all day,” he said finally, his voice low and rough.

Your breath hitched. “Me? You’ve got it backwards. It’s you driving me crazy.”

That made him smirk, and he pushed off the table, taking a slow step toward you. “Oh, yeah? How’s that, then?”

You swallowed hard, your eyes flicking to his mouth before you could stop yourself. “You’re... impossible. That’s how.”

“Impossible?” he repeated, the word rolling off his tongue seamlessly. He was sitting even closer to you now, close enough that you could see the faint stubble on his jaw, the way his shirt clung to his chest. “Funny, that. Don’t feel so impossible when you’re snogging me in a car, though, does it?”

You opened your mouth to retort, but he didn’t give you the chance. His hands came up to cup your face, and then his lips were on yours again—fierce and demanding, like he’d been holding back all day and couldn’t keep it in anymore. You melted into the kiss, your fingers tangling in his hair as he pulled you closer, practically lifting you off the couch.

“Christ,” he muttered against your mouth, his voice husky. “You’ve no idea what you do to me.”

“Maybe I do,” you whispered, your hands sliding to his chest.

He groaned softly, deepening the kiss until your head spun. His hands were everywhere—your waist, your back, the curve of your hips—and you couldn’t get enough of him. When he finally pulled back, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other.

“Stay,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, your heart pounding as he kissed you again, softer this time but no less intense. It wasn’t just passion—it was connection, something you’d felt from the moment you met but hadn’t been able to put into words until now.

Noel pulled you closer, his hands sliding down to your hips as he guided you onto his lap. The weight of his hands was grounding and electric all at once, like you’d been waiting for this moment longer than you realized. His lips didn’t leave yours for a second, kissing you with the kind of hunger that made the world outside his room blur into nothing.

“You’re summat else, y’know that?” he murmured against your lips, his voice low and gravelly. His hands splayed over your thighs, the warmth of his touch seeping through the thin fabric of your dress. “Got me all worked up—can’t think straight.”

You let out a shaky laugh, your fingers tangling in his hair as you kissed him again. “I could say the same about you.”

He grinned against your mouth, and you felt his grip tighten, grounding you against him. “Good. About time someone got through to me.”

His lips trailed from your mouth to your jawline, then down to your neck, where he pressed a series of slow, deliberate kisses that made you shiver. Your head tilted back instinctively, giving him more access, and he took full advantage, his teeth grazing your skin just enough to leave a pleasant ache behind.

“Is this alright?” he asked softly, his voice almost a whisper.

You nodded, your breath catching as you whispered back, “More than alright.”

That was all the encouragement he needed. His hands roamed freely now, sliding up your back and down your sides, tracing the contours of your body like he was trying to memorize every inch of you. He pulled you impossibly closer, and you could feel the tension in his body, the way he was holding himself back just enough to make sure you were still with him.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he said, his words muffled against your skin. It was an unguarded moment, one that felt more like a confession than a compliment, and it sent your heart racing even faster.

You cupped his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you. “So are you,” you said simply, your voice steady despite the way your body hummed with anticipation.

That seemed to unravel something in him. He kissed you again, deeper this time, his hands tangling in your hair as if he never wanted to let you go. The way he touched you was careful but insistent, like he was caught between savoring the moment and giving in to the urgency building between you.

“Say somethin’ smart now, eh?” he teased breathlessly, his forehead resting against yours. “All that wit earlier—gone quiet on me now, haven’t you?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, your hands sliding under the hem of his shirt to trace the lines of his stomach. “You’re one to talk. Weren’t you supposed to be the eloquent one?”

He raised an eyebrow, his smirk returning even as his breathing hitched under your touch. “Guess I’m a bit distracted. Can’t imagine why.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark with something between affection and pure want.

Time seemed to slow, every moment etched into your memory as you lost yourselves in each other. His shirt hit the floor, your dress following soon after, and then it was just the two of you, unguarded and vulnerable in a way you’d never experienced before. His lips trailed along your collarbone, his stubble brushing against your skin and leaving a pleasant ache in its wake. Your nails traced the lines of his back, pulling him closer, silently urging him on.

He paused for a moment, his forehead resting against yours as he caught his breath. “You’re sure?” he asked, his voice softer now, the teasing edge replaced by genuine care.

You cupped his face in your hands, your thumbs brushing over the faint lines at the corners of his eyes. “Never been more sure,” you whispered, your voice steady even as your heart raced.

That was all he needed, the moments that followed were a blur of sensation, his hands gripping your hips, the warmth of his skin against yours, the way his name slipped from your lips in a breathless whisper. He moved with a deliberate intensity, as though he wanted to draw this out for as long as possible, to savor every second.

The couch creaked beneath you as you shifted together, the air in the room thick with the mingling sounds of your shared breaths and quiet gasps. Every touch, every kiss, felt like an unspoken promise, a silent declaration of everything you’d both been holding back. It was intoxicating, the way he looked at you like you were the only person in the world, the way he made you feel like you were finally exactly where you were meant to be.

Eventually, the passion gave way to a quiet stillness, the room settling around you both. Noel’s arm draped over you as you lay on the couch, your head resting on his chest. His heartbeat was steady beneath your ear, a comforting rhythm that grounded you as you tried to catch your breath.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the reality of what just happened sinking in. Noel’s hand moved lazily along your back, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin.

“Well,” he said finally, his voice low and laced with a hint of his usual humor, “that wasn’t in the script.”

You laughed, the sound muffled against his chest. “Pretty sure it was better than anything in the script.”

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Not gonna argue with that.”

Silence settled over you again, but this time it was comfortable, a shared understanding passing between you without the need for words. You knew this wasn’t just a momentary lapse, something to be brushed off when the sun rose. This was something more—something neither of you had expected, but both of you were more than ready to explore.

Noel shifted slightly, his fingers tilting your chin up so he could look at you. “You alright, love?” he asked, his tone soft, almost hesitant.

You nodded, your smile genuine. “Better than alright.”

His lips quirked into a lopsided grin. “Good. ’Cause you’ve just gone and ruined me, y’know.”

You raised an eyebrow, your laughter bubbling up again. “Me? Ruined you? That’s rich coming from you”

He smirked, pulling you closer. “Yeah, yeah. Keep talkin’ like that, and I’ll ruin you all over again.”

The playful edge to his voice sent a thrill through you, but before you could respond, he kissed you again, slower this time, savoring the moment. When he finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, his eyes closing briefly.

You stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in each other, neither of you in any hurry to leave the small world you’d created together.

_________________________________________________________

my 'angin brain’s come up with this just for you lot. Thought I’d make the grown-up bit a bit more sensual, a bit more romantic with less filthy detail (not that I don't support filthy detail). Let me know what you thought, me dirty celestial beings xx

and cheers to whoever requested this, hope you liked it, and it was at least close to what you wanted to see x

[dumpsterfire-daydreams]

TW: Drinking/Intoxication, Drinking Games, Friendly 141, Drunk König, Jealous Ghost, Possessive Ghost, Dominant Ghost, Flirty Soap, Playful Soap

Translations:

"Ye feart of a wee nip?" - Scottish slang for "You scared of a little kiss?"

"Jessie" - Scottish slang for "coward"

...is it too obvious that I want them all?

Reader POV:

The music was already quite loud from outside the club doors. But the minute they swung open, the pounding rhythm of electronic dance music hit you full force. The thrashing beat vibrated through your whole body, instantly making you feel alive and eager to dance. But there were patrons pressing in on all sides as everyone else surged forward with the same goal in mind.

Thankfully, Ghost pulled you along through the crowd and made a beeline for the bar. You reached back and took König’s hand in yours, pulling him along with you as Ghost pressed on through the ruckus. When you finally reached the bar, it was still crowded with people. But the numbers had thinned just a bit and there were a few open seats available. Ghost pulled one out for each of you, but he was content to stand.

"What do you like to drink, Princess?” He shouted, cupping his hand around his mouth. “Tonight's on me."

"Oh, thanks! I like Long Island Iced Tea a lot.."

"Of course? König, you want anything?"

König paused to think for a moment. "A Jagertee, please? If they have it?"

"Alright then,” Ghost said, giving a curt nod. “Sounds good to me."

After a moment, the bartender rushed over to take your orders. Though he was no doubt stressed by the constant drink requests, he had a cheery smile and friendly eyes.

"Sorry for the wait, folks," he laughed, wiping his hands on the front of his apron. "Name’s Elliot. As you can see, we're pretty slammed tonight. But what can I get started for you?"

"Nothing fancy," Ghost said, having to raise his voice over the noise. "Just bourbon. Neat."

"I like it," he grinned, jotting the order down before turning to you. "And for you, miss?"

You opened your mouth to speak, but Ghost quickly stepped in.

"She'll have a Long Island Iced Tea. And he'll have a Jagertee, if that’s something you can make."

Elliot pulled out his phone, looking up the unfamiliar beverage. As he perused, he nodded excitedly. "Yep, I think I can make that work. Are we doing separate tabs tonight?"

Ghost didn’t respond, simply draping one arm over your shoulder before resting the other on König’s. He held the bartender’s gaze all the while, his unspoken response was clear.

When the meaning dawned on him, Elliot grinned and closed his notepad with a snap. "Alrighty, together it is. I'll have those right out for ya!"

Ghost gave him a nod of gratitude and turned away from the bar. He leaned back against the countertop, crossing his arms over his chest and casually eyeing the rowdy crowd of partygoers.

"Thank you for this, Ghost," König yelled, leaning towards him. "It's very kind."

Ghost’s eyes smiled behind his mask. "My pleasure."

Once the bartender handed off your drinks, you all returned to weaving through the crowd towards the small seating area. You craned your neck in an effort to spot the rest of your crew. A little ways ahead, you saw Soap waving both arms over his head to catch your eye. He was standing at a table where Price and Alejandro were already seated. And the three of you were eager to join them.

"What took you guys so long?" Soap laughed, taking a long sip from his drink. "Thought we lost ya for a minute there."

"Just needed a chat to set things right," Ghost shrugged, meeting Price’s gaze across the table. "Wanted to keep my word and get rid of any tension between us."

"Oh," Price leaned in, intrigued. "And how did it go? Y/n?"

"It went great," you said, shyly. "I think we can finally bury the hatchet. Ghost’s not a bad guy after all! I like him."

Price beamed with pride. "Fantastic! See? That wasn't so hard, now was it?"

Soap nudged Alejandro, motioning for him to scoot over so the three of you could join them on the bench.

"That’s a pure tidy choker ya got there, lass," he chirped as you slid onto the bench beside him. "Real cute."

You felt heat quickly rising on your face, but smiled through it. "Thanks! I think so too."

Ghost quickly settled in beside you, stretching out with a sigh as König sat down next to him. The significance of the collar hidden in plain sight paired with Ghost’s thigh snugly pressed against yours? It gave you a thrill. Smiling to yourself at the naughty secret, you took a sip of you drink. You braced for the sharp flavor of alcohol, but were surprised when there was none at all! It was absolutely delicious! You weren’t fooled though. From the way it instantly warmed your stomach, you knew there was a potent mixture of vodka and tequila hidden within it. You quickly took another sip, reminding yourself to be careful just how many of these you had tonight.

“So,” Ghost began, resting his forearms on the tabletop. “What did we miss?”

“Not much,” Price laughed. “Soap here was trying to explain a drinking game to us. What was it called again? Jinx or some rubbish like that?”

“It’s called high jinks! An old classic.”

You perked up, more than ready for some fun to start. “Oh? I’ve never heard of it. How do we play?”

Soap rummaged in his pockets and produced a pair of dice.

“Here’s how it goes. First, we all decide some dirty deed that befalls the unlucky loser. Then, we go ‘round the table and roll the dice. You read em low number first, higher number second.”

He demonstrated, shaking the die in his hand before tossing them on the table.

“I got a 2 and a 6, so that would be a score of 26. If you get a number higher than your neighbor, you get to take a drink! But if you get a lower one, you either have to do whatever dirty deed the team has in store for you or you're out of the game.”

“And if I was to play. And I said if ,” Alejandro laughed. “How do we win?”

“You win by being the last man standing. That or all of us are too pished to keep it up. So who’s in?”

One by one, everyone at the table began to raise their hand. Rolling his eyes in jest, Alejandro raised his hand as well. You quickly rose your hand and was pleased to see both Ghost and König follow suit. With a full table of willing participants, Soap rubbed his hands together. His eyes sparkled with mischief as his grin widened.

“Right then!” He lowered his voice, leaning in conspiratorially. “What’s our first dare?”

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

It wasn’t long before the game was in full swing. Laughter roared from the booth and the drinks continued to arrive in a steady flow. So far, the antics hadn't been anything too terrible. Alejandro had lost in the first round. So he begrudgingly rose from his seat to ask a pretty girl for her number. Even Soap had lost a round! But if his punishment bothered him at all, he hadn’t shown it. He’d put his whole heart into his performance, dutifully dancing on the table to the delight of his teammates. Price spent a majority of the moment bowled over in laughter and Alejandro had his phone at the ready to capture the scene.

You snorted when he stopped in front of your seat to gyrate his hips in your face. And when you tucked a dollar bill into the waistband of his pants, the clamor rose all over again. Even Ghost and König laughed nearly to the point of tears.

With a flourished bow, Soap reveled in the team’s applause before hopping down from the table and reclaiming his seat.

“I dare anyone to top that,” he beamed, helping himself to another drink. “Now what’s next?”

The table went quiet as everyone plotted the perfect punishment for the next loser. You crossed your arms and sat back, deep in thought. You wanted the next one to be perfect. Who knew how long the game would go? Suddenly, König sat up and raised his hand.

“How about this?” he giggled. “The next loser has to make out with Price.”

You almost choked on your drink. König was definitely drunk or tipsy, at the very least. Because you never would have expected that kind of idea from him. From Soap, it would have been completely unsurprising. But from König? It was totally off brand!

Soap was all for it, giggling and clapping his hands in anticipation. “Oh, I love this already! Ye feart of a wee nip, captain’?”

“If you’re asking what I think you are, I’m not the one to ask. I don’t wanna get a black eye tonight,” Price chuckled, gesturing at you and König. “I’m alright with it if you two are.”

“I’m not a sore loser,” König shrugged, sipping at his drink. “If I lose, I will take my punishment. Maus?”

Your eyes flitted to König and then to Ghost. König’s eyes were full of excitement, so you knew he had no complaints about the proposition. But Ghost’s expression was unreadable behind his mask. You tried to subtly ask permission with your eyes, but he just stared back and crossed his arms.

“Choose,” he murmured in a monotone voice, raising his mask to take a swig of his bourbon. You saw his jaw clench, but he didn’t speak any further.

“Welp, I tried,” you said to yourself with a shrug before turning back to Price.

“You can count me in,” you laughed. But you jokingly narrowed your eyes at Soap, nudging him with your elbow. “But I haven’t lost yet and don’t plan on losing now.”

Soap smirked, sliding the dice across the table towards Price to start the round. “Oho! We’ll see about that!”

Price shook the dice in his hand, pausing to blow on them for good luck before letting them fall.

“Ha, twenty-one. Beat that!” he bellowed, passing them along to Alejandro before sipping his old-fashioned.

Alejandro let them fly and was quite pleased when he rolled a thirty-six. But Soap quickly scooped them up and shook them in both hands. He drew out the suspense for a good while, too. It wasn’t until Price told him to quit stalling that he finally let the dice clatter against the table. And when they rolled to a stop, the team oohed and ahhed at his result. He’d rolled a twenty-two!

“Vaya! That was a close one!” Alejandro shook his head in awe.

“A shame, too,” Soap smirked at Price, puckering his lips. “I was gonna land a good one on ya.”

The captain rolled his eyes with a chuckle. “Shut up and pass the dice.”

Everyone leaned in as you plucked the dice from the table. Taking a page out of Price’s book, you blew into your hand as you shook them. And with a deep breath, you opened your hand and let the dice slip from your grasp. Silence settled over the group as the dice chose your fate.

“Fourteen, eh?” Soap announced with a click of his tongue. “Looks like your luck ran out after all, lass. Pucker up or you’re out~”

“Fine,” you sighed, nudging Ghost to let you out of the booth.

König quickly stood, eager to see your punishment play out. But Ghost took his sweet time scooting across the bench before finally stepping out of your way. You felt your face burn a bit as you made your way over to where Price sat. There was laughter in his eyes as he quirked an eyebrow at you.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, Y/n,” he offered, watching your approach. “You can always sit out until the next round.”

“Yeah, if you’re a jessie,” Soap teased. He took another sip of his drink, excitement plain on his face. “Come on, it's just a kiss!”

“Sorry, John,” you said, tugging your dress down before sitting next to him. “I’m too competitive to back out now.”

After Soap's recent performance, you knew you'd have to add a bit of spice to one up him. So, you threw a leg over Price's thigh to straddle his lap, resting your hands on his shoulders. Ever the respectful gentleman, Price didn’t presume to touch you. He let his hands sit idly on the bench as you shut your eyes and leaned in. It wasn’t a bad kiss. And he tentatively kissed you back. His lips were soft and the coarse hairs of his mustache tickled. He tasted warm, like alcohol and cigar smoke. After a few seconds, you backed off.

“Damn, that was sexy as hell,” Soap said with a laugh. “You feeling okay over there, captain? Need to go tug one off in the men’s room?”

Price smiled, patting your leg to signal that you could climb off his lap. “Okay, let’s not go making things inappropriate,” he chided.

You laughed, giving the team a little bow before heading back to your side of the table. König’s eyes were wide in surprise, but there was a spark of intrigue in them too. He giggled again, giving you a nod of admiration as he stepped aside. “Well done, Maus!”

He handed the dice to Ghost, who looked far less amused though. He stood at the entrance to your side of the bench with his arms crossed, blocking your way. And there was a glint of both jealousy and possessiveness in his eyes. The bottom of his mask was still lifted, which revealed his lips pressed into a thin line of displeasure.

“I ain’t kissing my captain if I lose,” he growled, shaking the dice in his hand. “But how about this? Since she’s in such a generous mood, I’ll kiss her instead.”

A collective gasp went up around the table. But you ignored the reaction, keeping your eyes locked on Ghost.

“Fine,” you shot back, boldly accepting his challenge.

Ghost discarded the dice onto the table behind him, not even stopping to look at his score before yanking you into an aggressive kiss. His hands gripped your body, pressing you flush against him as his lips claimed yours with a hungry growl. And you let him, giving in to the brazen display. It was not a gentle kiss. He kissed you recklessly, desperately. He kissed you as if he wanted to wipe every last memory of the previous kiss from your mind and body. And when he finally let you go, you were flushed and gasping for breath.

Everyone else looked on in stunned silence, jaws on the floor. Even König was surprised Ghost had shown his hand so unexpectedly. But Ghost was unbothered. He was smirking, eyeing the rest of the team as you bashfully reclaimed your seat.

“What? If you’re gonna kiss her, at least do it right,” he shot Price a look before pulling out a cigarette. “Need a smoke. I’ll be back.”

“Por Dios,” Alejandro laughed, watching him go in disbelief. He moved to exit the booth shortly afterwards. “After what I just saw, I think I need another drink.”

Price’s gaze flitted between you and König before realization hit him. With a knowing smirk, he downed the rest of his beverage and stood to let Alejandro out. “I think I’ll join you.”

"Could you get me one too, König?" You raised your empty glass.

“Of course,” König chirped, grabbing your cup before hurrying off behind them.

The only person left at the table was Soap. And you half expected him to slip away, too. But he was more than content to stay exactly where he was. He sat there mixing his drink with his straw, eyeing you with increased interest.

“So,” he leaned in, grinning mischievously. “You and Ghost, huh?”

You flushed bright red, not meeting his eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Rubbish, you can’t fool me,” he snickered, poking your arm. “You’re just picking us off one by one, aren’t you? Trying to add as many soldiers to your roster as you can?”

“No! Oh my god," you covered your face with your hands, continuing in a timid whisper. "I-König likes to… share. So now, I'm kinda dating Ghost, too. Please don't tell anyone, though. Okay?"

"My lips are sealed. But after that kiss? I don’t think anyone needs tellin'."

"Fuck, I'm so embarrassed. I don’t want you guys to think I'm a slut or something!"

Soap adamantly shook his head.

"Oh please, far from it! We're all grown here, we don't judge. Personally, I'm impressed,” he sat back, crossing his arms behind his head. “I thought you took the cake this morning. But never in my life have I seen Ghost do something like that. He’s got it bad for you, lass. Real bad.”

You relaxed a bit, relieved you hadn't ruined the friendly dynamic you had built with the team. Soap rubbed your back, assuring you everything would be just fine. Across the room, you could see König headed your way with a fresh drink. And everyone else was right behind him.

"Before they get back," he whispered, waggling his eyebrows. "Ya got room for one more?"

You stammered, completely caught off guard. But your surprise turned to playful annoyance when Soap fell into a fit of laughter.

"Relax! I'm just giving you a hard time. But oh, that face was priceless!" he continued laughing at his own joke before finishing off his drink. "But I'll say this. If duty ever calls, I'll answer~"

"Lovely," you shook your head, giving him a playful shove. "I'll remember that."

[therabbitthatpostthings]

Live Arcane Reaction; Act 3:

Ep 7: Thank god the killmonger cut only exist in the hell dimension- don’t let them give you a fuck ass cut Ekko.

Powder my princess- IS THAT VANDER’S FINE ASS

OH MY GOD MILO CLAGGOR!!!

Jayce my princess I never doubted you. I knew the Hexcore fucked you up girl🫶🏾

Goddammit every frame in this show is a painting

VI MY POOKIE BEAR WHY

There is something so heartbreaking about the Bridge of Progress being used as an actual progression between the two cities. An olive branch. What could have been.

Jayce istg they do not want you to be happy-

BRO HE JUST WANTED TO PLAY WITH SOME MAGIC-

“Viktor is the mage” theory you might just have merit

Arcane artists I will see you in HELL for that Viktor/Jayce parallel of them literally building themselves up, morphing their damaged bodies to move forward.

Ekko and Jinx girls enjoy your SCRAPS-

WHAT WE COULD OF BEEN GODDAMMIT! FUCK!!!!!

Actual fucking tears in my eyes- FUCK THEY COULD HAVE BEEN SO CUTE- also the hard cut to Jayce and the Hexcore glitching like TV glitches as the universe breaks down.

MY BOY JUST WANYES TO PLAY IN SOME MAGIC!

Thank god he didn’t die in that universe too I would have crashed out Powder deserves to be- SHE KEPT THE CRYSTAL!?

Ep 8: oh thank god my Pookies is alive- IS ANYTHING SACRED- why the fit kinda eat tho….

I need everyone to understand I was SO happy about Mel being alive that I barely understood anything those mages said. I was just happy my babygirl is alive. GOD THAT MAKES THE FLOWER IMAGERY IN THE OPENING MUCH BETTER.

I just remembered Isha is dead... FUCK HIEMERDINGER DIED TOO 😭

Nooo Vander- NO VIKTOR- nice to know I am not immune to indoctrination.

Huck cannot catch a break omfg

LORIS MY BELOVED 🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

Hi traitor- omg Cait cute hairstyle

The divorce is not going well for these two.

Jayce and Mel have not seen each other for god knows how long- DONT FUCKING YELL AT HER JUST CAUSE YOUR SITUATIONSHIP WENT SOUTH!

The throuple is back together and it’s TOXICCCC

I would just like to point out that when Viktor said this all started with Jayce, the parallels between Jayce and Ekko is still going. Like I could on for pages about these two at this point.

Fuck they made this Yaoi TOXIC-

FUCK THEY MADE THIS MAGIC TOXIC- is it wrong still stand by Viktor. Like I know he’s wrong but he’s so fine. Jayce and Viktor’s parallels, Jayce and Ekko- lord.

FUCKING FINALLY THE SISTERS ARE- well shit

Jayce and Mel, I never doubted this ship. I never doubted this relationship. I thought they were good for each, the rest of the world is just full of haters.

Sevika thank god they dumb bitches get on my nerves, I need someone with a functioning brain cell to lead us to salvation.

I’m gonna be on my fucking deathbed talking about the Zaunites joining Piltover to fight a battle they done have to, to save their homes- to make Progress.

Vi, it’s okay- OH MY GOD

Istg this show cannot- I’m- Ambessa my love I’m still reeling from the gays, give me a moment. VANDER MY LOVE NOOO! SINGED I'LL SEE YOU IN HELL!

Oh fuck- we’re in it now

Ep 9:

EKKO THANK GOD- most stressful 3 mins of my life.

Honestly I don’t trust these dumb bitches at all. Jayce and Vi are like 2 for 2 on losing fights. Ekko save us Ekko. I had hope on Sevika but her leaving is so real. She has been let down by these people so many times- GERT NOOOOO

LORIS NOOOOOO

Thank god fish guy made it

Ambessa rises from the ashes like a demon- I KNEW IT I KNEW THAT BITCH WAS A TRAITOR!

GOD IS A WOMAN AND HER NAME IS MEL MEDARDA!!!

YEA JINX! SEVIKA IM SORRY I DOUBTED YOU QUEEN NEVER AGAIN I SWEAR!

There is something so special to me about piano boy being the one to make the shot. Like the smallest thing can make a difference, anyone can rise to the occasion.

Of course Ambessa is one step ahead

I have issues, I still think Viktor is so hot rn.

I know my girls are getting their asses beat rn but let’s appreciate they let the girls get down and dirty in a fight. No pretty fighting- my bitches scrap-

Bow your heads. We lost THE bad bitch today.

Omfg there’s still like 20 mins left

I should have known this plan was gonna go to shit the minute Jayce and Vi sat next to each other.

Praying for the salvation for my girl, Sevika I promised not to- FUCK

Ekko please save these idiots- SAVE US EKKO.

Jayce understanding that he was the soldier in the ash like yeah dummy- DID IT CLICK YET- Please let Viktor be the mage, I will not let this theory die.

Fuck I wanna side against Viktor but he looks gorgeous in the Arcane.

Oop Jayvik nation rise.

EKKO THANK GOD THATS MY BOY SAVIOR

HE WAS THE MAGE THE WHOLE TIME-

I’m actually in tears this isn’t a bit, like I’m actually crying

Viktor I never doubted you, I never forsaken you, I never hated you, I never turned against you, I never thought less of you. He could have actually succeeded and I would have stood by him.

Oh damn Jayvik nation rise for real, I was just joking the first time-

JINX I NEVER DOUBT- FUCK

This show is so beautiful, every scene a painting. Mel in all noxian gear while still wearing her purple eyeshadow, a mix of her roots but also the promise to move forwards and look ahead.

Yall im so fucking stressed and there’s only 3 minutes left.

No one talk to me for the next few days- I’m going through some shit okay-

[dae-chwiita]

Unseen, Unspoken

part.2-part.3

Pairing : San X reader / Yunho mentioned

Summary : When you finally decide to confess your feelings to Yunho, San is the first one to hear about it. But you don't realise just how much this decision affects him...

tw : heartbroken Sannie ouch and tears, tears, tears

——————————

You burst into San's apartment unannounced, your usual grin lighting up the space like the sun had decided to shine indoors. San, sprawled lazily on the couch in sweats and a faded tee, looked up from his phone, his lips curving into a smile so genuine it made your heart warmer.

"Sannie!" you chirp, plopping down beside him. “I need to tell you something!”

His heart stuttered, like it always did when you were this close. Your scent wrapped around him, familiar and intoxicating. He sat up, tilting his head curiously, though a small knot of worry had already started forming in his chest.

"What is it?" he asks, voice soft, careful.

You take a deep breath, your eyes sparkling with excitement. "I’ve decided…I’m going to confess to Yunho."

It was like the air had been sucked out of the room. His smile faltered for just a fraction of a second—a fleeting moment he hoped you didn’t catch. His chest felt tight, like someone had reached in and twisted his heart, as if it tried to rip his it out of his chest with such violence that he almost flinched.

But San was good at this. He’d been hiding his feelings for years now, hadn’t he? A master at tucking his emotions behind teasing grins and soft, affectionate words that you never took seriously. He forced his lips back into a smile, one less warm.

"Wow," he says, his voice a little too loud, a little too bright. "That’s…that’s great! Yunho’s a lucky guy."

Your cheeks flushed and you smacked his arm playfully. "You really think so? I mean, he’s perfect, right?" You sighed dreamly but your smile quickly faltered. "But what if he doesn’t feel the same? What if I mess everything up? I'm the worst when I'm stressed..."

San felt like he was shattering into pieces, every word you said driving shards of pain deeper into him. But he couldn’t let you see that. Not when you were looking at him with so much hope in your eyes. He swallowed hard, his throat dry.

"Are you kidding?" he says, leaning in closer. "You’re amazing. Of course he’ll say yes. I mean, who wouldn’t? You’re you."

You laugh, and it’s the sweetest sound in the world, but to San, it feels like a blade sliding between his ribs. You didn’t notice the way his hand clenched into a fist on his knee or how his gaze dropped to the floor as you kept talking about Yunho, trying to not take every word about it like a punch in the face, but you kept hitting and hitting him.

——

For days after that, San avoided you. It wasn’t intentional—at least, that’s what he told himself. He just needed space, needed time to push down the feelings that were threatening to consume him. He ignored your texts, avoided your calls, even went out of his way to dodge Yunho. Seeing either of you felt like rubbing salt into an open wound.

But then, you showed up at his door again.

When he opened it and saw you standing there, your eyes red and puffy, tears streaming down your cheeks, his heart stopped. He whispered your name, stepping aside to let you in.

"What’s wrong?" He asked, tugging the long sleeves of his grey shirt over his hands, ready to use it as tissue for your tears.

You don’t answer right away. Instead, you collapse onto his couch, your shoulders shaking with sobs. San’s chest ached as he knelt in front of you, his hands hovering uncertainly. He wanted to hold you, to pull you close and protect you from whatever had hurt you, but he didn’t know if you’d let him.

"Yunho…" you finally manage to choke out, your voice trembling. "He…he rejected me."

San froze. His mind went blank, disbelief flooding through him. Yunho rejected you? How? Why? He didn’t understand—how could anyone reject you?

For a split second, relief surged through him, so overwhelming it almost made him dizzy. But then he looked at you—at the way you were falling apart right in front of him—and that relief turned into guilt. How could he feel happy when you were hurting like this?

"Hey, hey," he says softly, finally letting himself touch you. His hands rest on your shoulders, grounding you, his thumbs gently brushing against your skin. "It’s okay. I’m here."

You shake your head, fresh tears spilling down your cheeks. "No, it’s not. I was so stupid, San. I thought…I thought he might actually like me back. But he said he didn’t feel the same. He said he didn’t want to ruin our friendship."

San’s jaw clenched. He wanted to be angry at Yunho, to blame him for your pain, but he couldn’t. Because deep down, he knew Yunho wasn’t wrong. Yunho didn’t feel the same way, and he had the decency to be honest about it. San could never hate him for that.

But seeing you like this…that was unbearable.

"Princesse, hey..." he says, his voice low and steady. He moves to sit beside your laying form, pulling you up gently into his arms. You don’t resist, burying your face in his chest as he strokes your hair. "Listen to me. Yunho’s an idiot, okay? He doesn’t deserve you if he can’t see how amazing you are. But I promise you, this doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with you. You’re perfect just the way you are."

You sniffle, your hands clutching at his shirt like he’s the only thing keeping you afloat. "I just…what’s so wrong with me that he wouldn’t even give me a chance?"

San’s heart broke all over again. "Nothing," he says firmly. "Absolutely nothing. If he can’t see how incredible you are, that’s his loss. You deserve someone who sees you, who cherishes you, who would never, ever make you cry like this."

His words hang in the air, heavy with meaning. He doesn’t say it outright, but he hopes—prays—you understand. That you hear what he’s really trying to tell you. At least, how much his heart beats for you, that you can hear it over your crying.

You don’t respond right away, your sobs gradually quieting as his warmth and steady presence calm you. He holds you until your breathing evens out, until your tears have dried and your head is resting on his shoulder.

"Thank you, San," you murmur, your voice barely audible. "Thank you for being here..."

He presses his lips to the top of your head, a gesture so tender it makes his chest ache. "Always," he whispers.

And he means it.

[finelinevogue]

For prompt list, number 39 Harry Styles friends to lovers? Love your writing 🩷

thank you my lovely!!! you’re so kind💖💖

>500 words

“Wait a minute. Are you jealous?”

You stood and watched Harry as he scoffed at your question.

His bedroom in his university flat didn’t seem so big anymore with the two of you raging at each other.

You had come to visit Harry, your best friend, for the weekend, as you hadn’t seem him since you’d both moved away from home and off to university. It just so happened that Harry’s flat was hosting a flat party - so subsequently you’d been invited.

It had been going well.

You’d met Harry’s flatmates and they were lovely. You’d gotten ready with the girls in his flat whilst the boys went to the off-licence for drinks. The party had lots of people and it was fun. Perhaps a little too fun, or at least it had been when Harry had caught you.

“You were talking to Oliver.” Harry stressed, running a hand through his soft hair.

“And?” You exclaimed.

“He’s my fucking roommate.”

“Don’t you dare speak to me like that.” You glared at him, chest heaving as you pointed at him.

Harry’s tense brows dropped then, finally allowing himself a moment of calm. It was just you two in his bedroom - no one else. More importantly, no Oliver.

“I’m sorry.”

Harry huffed before slumping down on his tidy bed. Harry had always been very neat and orderly. It was one of the things you loved about him. Well, that and a list of another hundred things or so.

It was getting more and more difficult to keep that love a secret though.

It was clear that you both had feelings for one another. It was evident in the way that Harry didn’t exactly like you and Oliver cosying up to one another. It was evident in the way you’d decided to come down this weekend because you missed him so much and were scared he might’ve moved on.

Perhaps you were both idiots.

You slumped down next to Harry, forcefully taking one of his hands in yours and holding it tight before resting your head on his shoulder.

“I don’t like Oliver like that, just for reference.” You said quietly.

“I know. I could tell by the way you kept drinking rather than talking. Normally I can’t get you to shut up and yet with Oliver there was more silence than anything.” Harry chuckled beside you, making your head wobble against his shoulder.

You couldn’t help but smile at how well Harry knew you and all your tells.

“He was talking about his grandmothers Christmas bauble collection. It wasn’t exactly a riveting conversation.” You laughed. “He does seem like a good friend though.”

“He is.”

“So why’d you pull me away from him?” You took your head off his shoulder to look at him properly.

He nervously looked down before looking back at you, needing to keep ahold of your hand for support.

“I think you know.”

You gave him a small smile, accompanied by a minor blush. You nodded and watched his smile become bashful at your agreement.

Harry chuckled to himself as he looked away from you, trying to focus on something that would stop him grinning from ear to ear but it was proving quite difficult - especially when you’d both admitted to something as big as feelings.

“So what now?” He asked you.

“Well… You could ask me out? I might say yes.”

He turned to look at you with a cheeky smirk, “Or we could skip all that and you just let me kiss you?”

You stood up then - moving away from temptation.

“No. I don’t kiss on the first date and I definitely don’t make exceptions for my best friend.”

“Still your best friend, hmm?” Harry leaned back on his arms, stretched behind him on his bed as we watched you.

“You’ll always be my best friend, H. This time, though, I’ll just get to kiss my best friend too.”

[yinyuedijun]

CORRUPTIVE | ratiorine x masc reader

Ratio has been running himself ragged on a project. His blood pressure has been catastrophic, and his mood even worse. Aventurine offers a convenient outlet for his stress. (Or: You new boyfriend is a corrupting influence on you.)

3.2k words. written for @ficsforgaza's kinktober — prompt was double penetration (2 holes). reader is masc + afab (no surgery, explicit terms used), addressed as "boyfriend", "good boy", "baby". soft degradation, praise, 1 instance of name calling. pre-established romantic relationships with aventurine and dr ratio.

Ratio doesn't know why or how you ended up so besotted with Aventurine.

It isn't a matter of your intellect (of which you have in spades) nor your good-hearted nature (which is vastly different from the disposition of the gambler), though both make it puzzling that you would be so interested in the Stoneheart. It is simply that Ratio has never met a man as shy as you, and to this day he can’t fathom how you ever manage to entertain the gambler’s overt degeneracy both in and out of bed. When you’d first asked Ratio whether he would be comfortable with sharing you with the man, Aventurine’s arm hanging off your shoulder and a wicked smile on his face, he had been hardly able to believe it. Ratio even wondered if his synesthesia beacon was malfunctioning, and if by ‘sharing with’ you actually meant ‘rescuing from’.

“Don't worry, Doctor,” Aventurine had purred. “If you ever get jealous, you're free to join in on the fun.”

Ratio had bristled. Jealousy, at the time, implied to Ratio that he was irrational enough to fear that Aventurine might somehow steal you away from him if he did not choose to mutually participate in the relationship. But looking at the facts and at your behavioural history, it was simply inconceivable that Aventurine would be capable of ruining your bond. Logic dictated that your relationship with Ratio was too secure for it to dissolve simply because you were separately engaging in romantic relations with another man.

“Do what you want,” Ratio had said dispassionately and without hesitation. “It doesn't change anything between us. Do try your best to survive that insufferable attitude of his, though. You are free to come to me if you ever need a break from the gambler.”

Since you’ve begun seeing Aventurine, though, Ratio has begun to suspect that Aventurine had meant something else by jealousy. Something less related to the emotional dimension of sharing you and more to do with the physicality of it. Something about seeing you in the mornings-after and noticing the marks that Aventurine likes to litter across your neck. Something about how you seem more and more shameless every time you sleep with Ratio—how you seem able to take him deeper into your throat each time, how you seem to moan louder every time Ratio slides into you, how you now openly whine and beg to be filled by Ratio even though your cheeks are always hot with the embarrassment of doing so.

Something about how Aventurine seems to be training you to become unrepentantly needy for cock.

You are, again, a shy person. Your sex life with Ratio is largely reserved, fairly vanilla, and—and as far as he can tell—so satisfying that you never ask for anything else when he suggests it. I’m not very adventurous, you’d once laughed at him, more than a little sheepish. But dating Aventurine has clearly had a corruptive influence on you, and it had only become fully clear to Ratio the other day when he had moved to gently prep you, only for you to shake your head and reach between your legs, spreading yourself open for him.

“I-it's okay,” you’d panted, barely able to talk through the haze of your lust. “Aventurine already stretched me out earlier—see?”

When Ratio saw that your hole was not only gaping, but still dripping with Aventurine’s cum—he’d nearly passed out.

And now, as Ratio sits in his office, trying desperately to focus on revising the latest RFP from the Intelligentsia Guild while he listens to the rhythmic creak of your bed in the other room, the obscene noise of Aventurine’s hips slapping against your own as he pounds into you—

Well. Ratio admits that it should not have taken him so long to understand the meaning of ‘Join in on the fun’. He supposes he should acknowledge his own idiocy when he is guilty of it.

He would rather die than acknowledge that he does want to join the two of you, though.

Ratio is, for the millionth time, revisiting the blasted black hole information paradox: his least favourite problem in the entire field of quantum mechanics. He has an unquenchable thirst for knowledge, but he does sometimes wish to have less knowledge about this specific problem. Despite the fact that humanity has now colonised countless planets, asteroid belts, and moons, the exact properties of black holes remain an unknown that Ratio intends to eventually characterise. It's only a matter of time and effort—a great deal of which he's already spent, to no avail. Irritating, as it is a roadblock for a critical and time-sensitive project at the moment.

“Veritas,” you say, bringing him a bowl of hearty goulash that Aventurine had leisurely cooked during the time that Ratio had been slaving over these blasted equations, “you should take a break. You’ve hardly gotten any sleep for the past week.”

“Sleep can wait,” Ratio replies. His back aches, his wrists hurt, and his head is throbbing. His jaw aches from how much he's been grinding his teeth. “I am on the verge of a breakthrough—I will not rest until I’ve solved this.”

“But I'm worried about you,” you argue.

“I have no need for your worry,” he dismisses—snaps—and he knows he’s gone too far when he sees your brow furrow.

Aventurine, of course, manages to somehow be there. Why he's emerged from the kitchen to spectate on the two of you is a mystery to Ratio, but the Stoneheart appears to be openly and genuinely displeased at the interaction. It is a rarity for him, as Ratio has observed a trend in which Aventurine is least likely to show distress when he's actually hurt, and most likely to feign hurt when he's in control. A negative correlation, so to speak. The man does not like to reveal his emotions. But Ratio can generally get a good read on the Stoneheart, and he can tell that Aventurine’s current frown is genuine.

The concern on his expression fades when you roll your eyes at Ratio. “Okay, you should sleep and eat. Someone’s hangry.”

Ratio clears his throat. Always quick to own his errors as soon as he recognises them, he says, “My apologies. That was beneath me.”

“It's fine.” You stand behind him, placing your hands on his shoulders. As soon as you begin to knead your hands, Ratio becomes acutely aware of a knot at the base of his neck that your fingers are quickly undoing. “I know you're just stressed. You’ve run yourself ragged, Veritas—you’re going to get sick at this rate. Can I help you relax?”

Ratio closes his eyes, tries not to melt at your touch. You aren't wrong, he thinks. Prolonged stress compromises the immune system, and falling ill would hardly do anything for his overtaxed mind. He should do something to relax. He thinks about stepping away from the desk for the first time in hours, sinking into a warm bath… with you there, obviously—so he may wash your back, run his hands along your hot skin, kiss your shoulder amidst all the steam and fragra—

“I have an idea of what may fix the Doctor’s worsening health,” Aventurine says, his sly voice shattering Ratio's pleasant fantasy. The academician scowls.

“I have no need for your ideas,” Ratio snipes in revenge.

“Are you sure, Doctor? Because it seems you're running short on them.” Aventurine’s neon gaze roves over the several monitors in front of Ratio, all of which display his failed models. Ratio is startled.

“You understand the work here?”

“Not at all,” Aventurine replies breezily. “It was just a lucky guess. Or maybe an obvious one.” He slinks closer, wearing a grin that is both familiar and gratingly handsome. Ratio might have even found it charming if he didn't have such an outrageous headache. “Either way, it's clear to me that you need a break, plus a way to work off some of that stress.”

“Neither of which require your assistance.”

“Perhaps not mine,” Aventurine agrees. He's smiling when he adds, “But maybe our boyfriend’s?”

Ratio’s eyes narrow. He decides that he doesn’t like the cunning in his voice. “What do you mean?”

Aventurine’s mouth curls in a wicked, wicked way. He gives you a quick glance, as if asking you for permission, but you don't say anything to stop him—even though you can't look at either of them in the eye.

“Well,” the gambler says, “the two of us have been talking, and it turns out that your boyfriend’s been having some very interesting daydreams involving you…”

Ratio can't believe that this is happening.

In the first place, he'd hardly been able to process Aventurine’s suggestion. Ratio has long deduced that that you’re now much more open in bed, more transparent in your lust, but a fantasy like this one is still unprecedented based on his prior experiences with you. He hangs onto his disbelief right until the moment that you’re nude in front of him, face pressed into his pillows, ass up while you present yourself to both men. Aventurine has expertly teased your holes, so both of them are clenching and pulsing, needing to be filled. You're keeping yourself spread for them both obediently, so Ratio can see perfectly the way your cunt begins to drool when Aventurine eases his fingers into your other hole.

“Did you know, Doctor,” Aventurine drawled, “how much your boyfriend enjoys having both of his holes fucked at the same time?”

Ratio swallows. Can't take his eyes away from your glistening cunt, the way it twitches each time Aventurine moves his fingers inside you. “We—we have never tried.”

“Huh. Guess I can't blame you—it took a while for us to get him there.” His eyes almost gleam, the strange violet of his irises filled with cunning. “We had to go real slow with the toys, you know. I trained him pretty well, but”—Aventurine’s gaze flicks down to where Ratio is hard and throbbing—“he’s still never taken something as big as you. Not while I'm already inside him, anyway.”

You let out a whimper at the observation. “Are you excited?” Aventurine coos. You squirm, as if trying to push your hips toward them, and Aventurine laughs. “So needy. I’ve turned you into quite the cockslut, haven't I? But don't worry, baby. We’ll give you what you need soon enough—right, Doctor?”

Ratio struggles with a reply. He’s not talkative during sex beyond reassurances and encouragement, and perhaps the occasional curse. He doesn’t have a disposition for theatrics, and he certainly doesn’t have any inclination toward degrading ones. But Aventurine performs sex and decadence easily, his tongue silver and deft around his filthy words, his expressions nearly made for it. Ratio’s gut tightens when the gambler smirks at him, his cock twitching in his hand. I know what I'm doing to you, his face seems to say, and it leaves Ratio feeling at once irritated, out of his depth, and alarmingly horny.

For the sake of his blood pressure, Ratio turns his attention to you. The state that Aventurine has you in is obscene, panting and writhing as he eases a third finger into the tight ring of muscle that he’s trying to tease open. You moan a little, then whimper when Aventurine’s other hand finds your cunt. Ratio’s cock throbs at the noise that your pussy makes when Aventurine begins to tease it, dripping wet and embarrassing.

This is when you start to beg: “Please. Please, I'm ready, I promise. You don’t need to go slow, Aventurine, I promise, I can take—”

Your voice cuts out as Aventurine removes his fingers. Your holes are left empty, and Ratio can tell how badly you need them to be filled from the frustrated noise you make. Aventurine guides you into sitting, takes the opportunity to kiss you. “Since you asked so nicely,” Aventurine accedes, his lips moving against yours. He glances at Ratio after pulling away. “Well, then, Doctor—which of his holes would you prefer?”

Ratio swallows. He glances at your pleading expression, then at the space between your legs. At his hesitation, the corner of Aventurine’s mouth lifts. “Wait,” he says, “don’t tell me you’ve never tried anal?”

“Of course we have,” Ratio says curtly, almost defensive. Then he hesitates. “But we usually have… trouble.”

Ratio is large. It isn't a boast, but a factual statement, at least according to the statistics you once rattled off at him. It's challenging enough to make himself fit into your pussy; it’s an even longer process with your ass. He isn't sure from the way that you're begging that you can wait so long—and frankly, he isn't sure if he can either.

But gods, seeing Aventurine work you open for him like that…

Ratio’s concerns seem to have the opposite effect on Aventurine. He looks almost gleeful when he says, “Trouble? Oh, well, that settles it.” He cups your cheek, looks fond. “What do you think, baby? Can I use your cunt while Ratio fucks you from behind?”

You look deeply flustered, but you nod anyway. “Y-yes.” Your voice is trembling with excitement.

“Good boy,” Aventurine replies. He gives Ratio an appraising look, his eyes as hungry on him as they were on you. His gaze hardly strays from Ratio’s, even as he sits back and prompts you into straddling him. The position gives Ratio a maddening view of Aventurine’s length between your slick thighs. “Wanna give us a hand, Doctor?”

“You may run your mouth the whole night if I don't,” Ratio says dryly, and Aventurine laughs as the larger man places his hands on your hips. Aventurine pumps his length, lines himself up with your entrance. Ratio hears it when he nudges himself between your dripping folds, teasing you with the head of his cock.

“What, you don’t like my banter? Will you find other uses for my mouth later?” Aventurine teases, and Ratio is suddenly torn between thoughts of shoving his cock deep into Aventurine’s throat or making you ride Aventurine’s face. Both make for tantalizing images, and he decides he’ll revisit them later. He can already tell that the Stoneheart would find them equally appealing.

“We’ll see. For now”—Ratio begins to guide your hips down—“I’m sure there are other ways to get you quiet.”

Any witty retort dies on Aventurine’s tongue. He throws his head back as you sink onto his cock, overwhelmed, and Ratio can hardly blame him—he knows firsthand how good your cunt feels, always so tight and welcoming. You take Aventurine with more ease than you do Ratio, but not by much: it’s still an agonisingly slow and sweet process, getting your cunt to swallow the whole of him. Given complete control of your motions, Ratio guides your hips up and down, forcing you to take more of Aventurine’s length with each motion. He’s rewarded with the mesmerizing view of your pussy stretching out around the other man’s cock, leaving it glistening and creamy white with slick and pre.

When Ratio finally has you bottom out, Aventurine’s balls dripping with your arousal and pressed flush against you, the both of you let out strangled, broken groans. He lets you catch your breath before pulling you back so that Aventurine is pressed against your front walls, then pushes your belly for good measure. From the gasp you let out, Ratio can tell he's just forced the other man’s cock against your g-spot.

Aventurine’s eyes rove up and down your body, drinking in the sight of you. “Very good,” he purrs. “Are you ready to take Ratio now?”

“I—I think so,” you pant.

“I'll go slowly,” Ratio promises, and Aventurine watches carefully as he reaches for the lube.

“Don’t feel bad if you can't last,” he drawls, and Ratio tries not to scowl. How juvenile. The gambler must sense his disdain, because he shows his teeth in an almost-smile. “I'm being serious, Doctor. It feels very different from fucking someone by yourself, you know.”

“I’m certain I'll survive it,” Ratio says flatly. He pumps his cock once, twice, and Aventurine grabs your ass to spread you for him. Ratio starts pushing into you, begins stretching your tight hole around his girth. It has you shifting and squirming on Aventurine’s cock until Aventurine is forced to still you with his hands, his fingers digging into your hips.

“Be good now,” he says. “Stay still until we’re both inside you.”

“O-okay,” you say, voice watery, and Ratio almost feels bad at the whimper you let out when he pushes another inch inside you. Almost.

He can't help but mentally curse the other man as he slides into you. He hadn’t been lying. On a normal day, you're barely able to accommodate Ratio, but with Aventurine’s cock already deep in your cunt, sliding into you is even more difficult than usual. You feel almost unbearably tight and hot around him, and every time Aventurine moves inside you, Ratio can feel it—every twitch and press of the other man’s cock, barely separated by your walls. It's maddening.

It must be overwhelming for you, too. From the noises you're making, Ratio can tell you feel nearly at your limit. You’re choking by the time that Ratio is halfway inside you, your face thrown into Aventurine’s neck.

“I—I’m so full,” you gasp, and Aventurine hums soothingly as he kisses your nape.

“You can do it.” His eyes flicker to Ratio, who nods and keeps pushing. In a bid to help you relax, Ratio reaches between your legs and finds your sex. Your clit is swollen, neglected, and your hips jolt as soon as he starts rubbing it. Unwittingly grinding against Aventurine’s hips, you make the gambler groan at the motion, and the noise goes straight to Ratio's aching cock. He can hardly believe it when he finally manages to bottom out—leaking and twitching inside you, his balls heavy and tight against Aventurine’s.

“There,” Aventurine says, sounding fully in control even while breathless, “such a good boy, taking us both… we’re going to use your holes now, okay?”

Ratio knows that it's probably the praise that does it. As soon as you hear the words, you let out a familiar kind of whimper—pitched, frantic. “O-oh fuck,” you choke out, and suddenly Ratio feels your walls clenching hard around him, pulsing as your body tries to milk them both. He hisses and manages to hold back from his climax, but Aventurine is shameless about letting you drag him over the edge with you—Ratio can feel him twitching and spurting ropes of cum inside you, the pump of his cock as he begins to fuck you through your orgasm. Ratio can't tell if it's Aventurine’s cum or your squirt that's dripping onto him right now, only that the mess is making him throb inside you, and—

“Fuck,” he snarls, and he pulls out of you so that he can grab the base of his cock. He needs to cum so bad that it nearly hurts, but he doesn't allow himself to finish. Not yet.

You're incoherent with pleasure for a long while, your body a wanton mess between them, but Aventurine—never one to stay quiet for long—quickly recovers and regains control. He pulls out with ease, and Ratio is treated to the obscene sight of your empty holes, both gaping and leaking into their thighs, a mess of cum and pre and lube.

“See?” he pants, grinning at Ratio. “Hard not to cum, isn't it?”

Ratio has to breathe deeply to calm himself. “It did feel… different from usual,” he acknowledges.

“I'm sure,” Aventurine purrs. He glances at you, smiles fondly. “How do you feel?”

You make a euphoric, exhausted noise, and both of your partners understand it to mean that you’ve enjoyed yourself.

“Was that too much?” Ratio asks.

You make a noise that sounds like a No. Aventurine’s grin is sly; he glances at Ratio’s cock, still swollen and aching, and he kisses your forehead.

“Good,” he murmurs. Ratio can hardly believe it, but he can see Aventurine starting to stroke himself, already hardening again. “It looks like the good doctor is still in need of release. You won't mind helping him out for a little longer, will you?”

end

thanks for reading! <3 please do let me know if you enjoyed this, and remember to check out @ficsforgaza's fantastic writers and donate to the cause if you can!

[starmocha]

✨️STAR APPLE✨️ THIS IS SO CUTEEE YES PLS LET’S MAKE THIS THEIR SHIP NAME ⭐️🍎

Some things I had forgotten:

I am very much into the Supreme Chef Caleb x Garbage Disposal BF Xavier dynamic

Caleb would be so excited to use this opportunity to test out new recipes 🥹

Xavier would be excited to eat, but he offers no helpful criticism, much to Caleb's chagrin 😔

"Come on, Xav, is there anything I should do differently next time?"

"No? It tastes good already."

"That's what you've said about everything I make..."

"Because everything you make tastes good." Xavier is confused. It seems so obvious.

Caleb is a little stunned, kind of embarrassed. "...maybe I should ask Zayne to taste test for me."

Cue annoyed, jealous pouty bunny 😈

"Why? Aren't I enough?"

Caleb delights in making Xavier annoyed, so he does it often to mess with him 😭✋️

"I just need some actual criticism."

"...I can offer some criticism," Xavier says, still pouting, "...you can use less vegetables next time. And maybe add more meat..."

Caleb is wheezing with laughter at this. "You are unbelievable..."

Xavier sulks. "..."

I may or may not have thought out multiple scenes for this supposedly story I am not writing 👉👈

It's close to finals week, and Xavier wakes up in the middle of the night to the smell of delicious food

Caleb is stress-cooking (again) and using this as an outlet from studying too hard

Xavier crawls sleepily out of bed and just...leans against Caleb's back, surprising him.

Still half-asleep, Xavier mumbles sleepily, "...smells good..."

Caleb laughs softly. "Want to taste test for me?"

He guides a spoon to Xavier's mouth.

"...yummy..."

"...you're still asleep, aren't you?"

Xavier just...falls into Caleb's arms, still sleepy. Caleb is surprised, but he smiles.

"...you smell like hong shao rou..."

"I'm making hong shao rou."

"Mm...my favorite..."

"I know."

xaviers gonna eat their entire semesters worth of Ramen in like a night xD

aksksdkakaks ok but Anon, have you also considered

Xavier + Caleb as dormmates 🙂‍↕️

[luck-of-the-drawings]

[<==PREV PAGES] [NEXT PAGE==>(not out yet.wait a year.or maybe more.imagine.]

saw alot of comments on prev pages; saying 'i HATE that mean teacher! im gonna FIGHT HIM!!' & i LOVE the energy!! it WOULD be nice. to have that catharsis. but the story of young tidestrider is Not one of catharsis. it is a story of being so small and so special and sucking so bad.