#but here's me getting excited for a second

[ceesimz]

Evergreen

Glimpses of your relationship. (Autistic Reader)

Reverie series can be found here. This is structured differently than the rest, it's multiple blurbs in one that I've written over time, which has definitely made it unnecessarily long but it's super light-hearted and fluffy so hopefully it's worth it

Being in a committed, serious relationship was new to you. You had dated, and… that was about it. That’s as far as things had gone in the past. 

Yet, here you were, making your way through the airport after spending Christmas back home in ice cold, snowy Norway, a small smile on your face at the thought of the person waiting to pick you up and take you home.

It was a strange adjustment, that was for sure, but a very welcome one. Having someone at your side felt… comforting. Knowing you could go to her for anything at any time was comforting. However, sometimes it worried you that you had to commit your every day to her. Not in the sense that you couldn’t settle down with her and her only, no way. Instead, you were anxious about the fact that there were times you needed your alone time, where you needed the world to quieten down a little to give you the space you needed to regulate yourself. Would Alexia understand that? Or would it irritate her that sometimes the only thing she’d get from you was radio silence?

In the end, you didn’t need to worry for even just a second. As a matter of fact, you found that peace in Alexia’s company. Not all the time of course, that wasn’t entirely realistic and time alone was still something you needed, just… less often. You wanted to spend everyday with her, even when you were mentally exhausted or burnt-out and so stressed you feared your hair would turn grey. 

You hadn’t planned to fall in love within mere months of living in Barcelona, nor had you expected to fall for a teammate. However, sometimes the most surprising things end up being the best. You adored Alexia and all that she was, especially when she demanded that she drop you off and pick you up from the airport and left no room for arguing. 

The sight of her waiting for you as you walked out of the arrivals door was worth the ten days of torture being away from her. There was no way in hell you could have controlled the shy, excited grin on your face as you wandered over to her.

She didn’t hesitate in holding her arms out when you got closer, an equally sheepish smile greeting you before you stepped into her space. The blonde let out an audible sigh of relief when her chin landed on your shoulder, holding you tightly against her whilst your hands slipped underneath the puffer jacket she wore and landed on the small of her back atop her sweater. For a few moments, the pair of you indulged in the comfort of the other after going so long without it. Hundreds of people passed by you as you did, each of them nothing more than a fleeting stranger with a life as complex as your own, yet your interest in their stories and the lives they led paled in comparison to the all-consuming feeling of Alexia’s embrace. 

Despite how you had technically just gone home, back to Norway where you grew up with all your family around you, that reuniting hug was… something more. Something deeper. You couldn’t quite put your finger on what it was about it.

“How are you? How was the flight?” She murmured quietly, pressing her lips to your coat-covered shoulder before leaning back and gazing down at you.

“Tired. My mind is frazzled.” Alexia scrunched her nose at the unfamiliar phrase, and though she had never heard it before, she seemed to understand what you meant by it. You smiled at her as she did it, finding it much more adorable than you'd ever care to admit.

“Let's get you home, eh? With… with me? I stay?” She asked, wanting nothing more than to fall onto the sofa with you and lay there for the rest of her days.

“Yes, god yes. I missed you.” You told her. The blonde chuckled softly and pulled you back in, this time with her cheek resting against your forehead as you nuzzled your nose against her jaw.

“Sí, I will stay with you. Por supuesto.” Alexia said in a whisper, her lips pressing a kiss to your temple. “I missed you too. It was so strange without you.”

“How so?” You wondered, content to stay there in her arms with the warmth of her drowning out the cool chill of the terminal.

“I was sad. Whenever I had some free time, I went to ask if you wanted to come over or I go to you or we have food together or something. But you weren't here and then I was sad. I'm never sad.” You giggled at the last statement, because despite staying in touch whilst you were gone with both calls and texts frequently throughout the day, it was nowhere near the same as being there in person. You understood exactly what she meant.

“Don't be silly, you're the most popular person in Barcelona. You know everyone there somehow, nevermind the thousands of fans too.” 

“Maybe, but none of them are you.” 

Your first instinct was to roll your eyes at her statement, which made her grin, but it did something to you. To you and your heart, to the butterflies in your stomach.

“Calla, Ale.” You shook your head, though spoke with a sheepish gratitude to your voice and a weakness to your knees that had her laughing quietly.

“I am being serious. I wanted you to have an amazing time at home but I wanted the days to go fast so I could see you again.” 

Her hand that landed on your cheek stopped you from turning away from her out of embarrassment at her sweet words, and you barely had a moment to scold her before she leaned down and finally kissed you. Each of you were overcome with a sense of relief, of yearning, of adoration, yet there was one stand-out thought which you both had– there was no way you could go that long without it again. And for Alexia, well, she also knew there was never another person in the world that could make her feel the way you did with just one kiss. It broke off sooner than you wanted, simply because not one of you could stop smiling.

“Take me home now?” You said, gazing at her as she blinked at you a couple times before snapping back into the reality. You giggled, spotting the exact moment she came out of her thoughts, which were overflowing with you, and nodded.

In moments like this, it was hard to believe that you were hardly three weeks into the relationship. Yet, if this was what three weeks had in store for you, you couldn’t wait to see what a lifetime held.

There was a bit of that playful back and forth that you adored when she took your suitcase from you, arguing something to do with being a gentlewoman, and you let her. Who were you to resist her? Dumb, that’s for sure. So she wheeled your bag to her parked car, your hand grasping onto her upper arm, in a comfortable silence. With it, came quiet excitement that formed between you, only now processing the fact you were back in each other’s company and had the next few days to spend time together before training started up again. 

Nothing could have prepared you for the complete and utter domesticity that took over your apartment when you stepped foot inside again. 

Firstly, it started with Alexia heading to the kitchen whilst you went to your bedroom to drop off your bags and unpack the main things from your backpack. Unbeknownst to you, while you were out of the country, Alexia had borrowed Ingrid's key to your flat so that she could organise a few small surprises she hoped you would appreciate. And appreciate them you did.

Just as you were beginning to feel a little overwhelmed at the thought of all the chores that coming back from a vacation had to offer, the door to your room creaked open and in walked your girlfriend with a mug of your favourite hot chocolate in her hand. With a disbelieving smile on your face, you happily accepted it, placing a grateful kiss to her check as your silent way of thanking her.

And as if it couldn't get any better, with a quiet, loving murmur, the blonde persuaded you to leave your bags until tomorrow, not afraid to admit that she would much rather spend the evening in your arms than to see you add to your own stress by trying to get everything organised straight after a flight. You were glad to take her up on her advice because you walked into your lounge to a coffee table filled with surprises. A fresh bouquet of flowers, a new candle, the softest looking blanket you might have ever seen, one of Alexia's folded-up hoodies, and a small gift-wrapped box. You felt overwhelmed, but this time in the best way possible – because you felt wholly and completely loved, even if the pair of you hadn't said that specific word yet.

The only thing you could do to repay such kindness was by granting her wish of doing nothing but cuddling with you on the couch. So you did exactly that. With Alexia's hoodie on, which you realised was her favourite, you both lay down on the sofa and got comfy. Your head was on her chest, tucked perfectly under her chin, with the new blanket that exceeded your softness expectations covering you both, and the most adorable Christmas tree decoration hanging off a pine branch in the corner of the room. According to her, Alexia had chosen it whilst at the Christmas markets, seeing the beautifully crafted glass decoration and thinking of you. Though, she also went on to admit that she thought of you all of the time, hence why she had bought multiple small gifts for you whilst you were gone.

Neither of you planned to fall asleep, but it seemed that had been the case when Alexia woke up some time later, you still on top of her and sleeping. She glanced at her phone and her heart dropped when she saw the time. You hadn't spent the night together at this point of your relationship, yet here the midfielder was, still on your couch at 1am. 

Maybe it was slightly unfair of her, but she would have truthfully done anything to stay in that moment, with you completely at peace lay on top of her. So she lingered for a minute or two, one hand on the back of your head as the other slipped under her jumper and softly trailed her fingertips up and down your warm skin. She closed her eyes and rested for just a second, before letting out a slightly stifled sigh and raising her head from where she had laid back. She gazed down at you, your cheek slightly smushed against her chest and your lips parted as you let out small breaths every so often, and did her best to memorise the sight for herself.

“Cariño.” She whispered, gently nudging your shoulder to wake you up so she could leave. If it was up to her, she would just slip out quietly and not wake you, but she knew the anxieties that would most likely cause for you and that was the last thing she wanted. “Wake up, cari. Por favor.”

“Shh. Sleep.” You grumbled, burying your face further into her neck and pulling the blanket tighter around you.

“No, mi amor.” Alexia chuckled softly, which only had you groaning. “Sorry. I have to go, it's the middle of the night.”

“Just stay, Ale.” You told her. Now that, she wasn't expecting. And if you weren't toeing the line between awake and asleep, you probably wouldn't have said it either.

“S…stay?” She repeated, though got no response from you. “Wake up, wake up. Just for a minute while I go.”

You reluctantly opened your eyes then, if only to frown when you lifted your head up to look at her properly.

“Why do you want to leave?” You asked in a slightly anxious mumble, those worries that Alexia wanted to avoid appearing anyway. To quell them quickly, she cupped your cheek and leaned forward to kiss your forehead.

“Because we haven't spent the night together yet and I don't want to cross any boundaries. This is your space, I don't want to intrude and overstay my welcome.” She answered sincerely, gazing at you so softly that had you been standing, your knees would have surely buckled. 

Those three words were so close to slipping out then, but you feared it was too early and you didn't want to scare her away just as you'd gotten her back. She kept you and your needs in mind at all times- not an overbearing amount, instead in a way where she somehow always knew the moment it was necessary for her to voice her willingness to cater for them. You'd known each other for a number of months now, so she had come to know you well, but it still caught you off guard how thoughtful and caring she was. Other than Ingrid, you weren't sure you had ever come across someone outside of your family that treated you so... perfectly. So normally. It was second nature for the Spanish woman at this point, and that meant the world to you.

“Ale.” You breathed out quietly, shaking your head slightly. She frowned at your reaction, and you couldn't help the sleepy giggle that left your throat. “I would really, really love it if you stayed over. Only if you want to, though.”

Your hair was no doubt a mess from being asleep, you could feel how flushed your cheeks were, and the material of Alexia's t-shirt was probably imprinted on one side of your face. Despite this, Alexia still looked at you like you were the only person in the world.

“If you are happy with it, I would love to stay over. I couldn't think of anything better than waking up in the morning to you.” Her words had you blushing, as they often did, and in your shy embarrassment, you ducked your head down to hide the beaming smile on your face. You lifted it back up only a second or two later when you heard Alexia yawn above you, the pair of you bursting into loud, hearty laughter afterwards.

Together, even with your fingers intertwined for the very short journey, you headed to your bedroom. Alexia perched on the edge of the bed as you searched your wardrobe not only for yourself, but your girlfriend too. You turned around with a pair of shorts for you, more than happy to keep on the jumper of hers you wore, as well as a sweater and another pair of shorts for Alexia. However, she looked at you like there was something she was holding back when you went to hand over the clothes.

“I don’t… usually sleep with shorts or trousers on.” She admitted with an amusingly bright shade of pink to her cheeks. Even the tips of her ears had changed colours.

“That’s fine, Ale, you can sleep in whatever you want. Long as you’re comfy.” You told her, giggling at the small sigh of relief she let out as you put her shorts back into the drawers.

“I did not want to make you feel uncomfortable or anything. Thank you for this.” She smiled up at you before standing. 

There was a miniscule moment of awkwardness where the two of you felt like teenagers at a sleepover, worrying about changing in front of each other, until Alexia turned so that her back was to you and began to unbutton and unzip her jeans. You turned too, not without a coy grin on your face, and quickly got changed, as did Alexia.

“Can I turn now?”

“Are you finished?” 

You asked at the same time, laughing together once more whilst moving to face each other again. Alexia took in the sight of you in her jumper, the small detail making her heart skip with joy around her chest, and you shook your head at the fondness she admired you with as you tried not to look at the rather substantial amount of skin on show from the woman across from you. She looked adorable, in just her underwear and a sweater with slightly tousled hair. It was such a contrast to the person you saw on the pitch, and so what if you secretly, not-so-secretly loved the fact that you were the only one in the world that saw this dimension of her multifaceted persona?

“What side do you prefer?” You wondered, gesturing to the bed behind you.

“Which side?” Alexia scrunched her nose in confusion like she did back at the airport, and still you found it just as endearing. 

“Yeah, like do you prefer being closer to the door or to the window?” 

“Oh! I do not mind, cariño, you can pick.” You let out a dramatic breath at her decision, then immediately clambered under the covers, making Alexia smile. “So you like the window?”

“I do. I like being able to look out every morning, the sunrise wakes me up.” You answered her curiosity, and it was simply another fact which she stored away. She had a number of them memorised by now, but she hoped she could learn every single one. 

“Do you, um… like to cuddle? When you sleep?” The blonde murmured a little shyly, lay on her back with her head turned to you. You had a feeling, from the sheepishness in her tone, that there was a certain answer she was hoping for. When you answered, you couldn't help the small, excited smile on your face.

“I think I do.” 

At your response, she moved onto her side, her accent thick when she quietly demanded that you roll over away from her. Once you had, you hid your face in your pillow when she shuffled up close to you, her chest to your back. Were you sure you weren’t asleep? Because when her arm slipped around your waist and hugged you tight back against her, you were convinced you were dreaming.

But, of course, you always had something to say.

“Do you sleep with socks on?” You hummed curiously into the quiet room.

“Sí..? Why?”

“That’s so strange, Ale.” You commented, goosebumps rising on your skin with the huff she let out against your neck.

“Vete a dormir, idiota.” She grumbled, though you knew she was smiling, it came through so clearly in her voice.

You woke up first the next morning. You weren’t used to sharing a bed, so you didn’t sleep too great, but waking up to Alexia snuggled close to you with her head half on your pillow and an arm wrapped around your body to ensure you didn’t move from her hold, it was so worth it. Even if she called you a worm for the rest of the day, droning on and on about how wriggly you were overnight. This time, when she teased you, you could see the smile on her face as she did so, you didn’t have to assume she had a grin like the previous night. With how the first night went, you thought about your future with a smile on your face, now knowing that mornings were so much better than ever before when you woke up to Alexia’s grumpiness and her tendency to cling onto anytime you tried to leave the bed.

—

Just because you hated your own birthday, that didn’t mean you disliked other people’s birthdays. In fact, for the people closest to you, you relished the opportunity to meticulously plan for them and show them exactly how loved they were.

“Ale, I mean it. Don’t you dare show up early.” 

February 2nd was of course your girlfriend's birthday. It was a morning training session that day, which was honestly quite lucky, and after some celebrations there with the club, you two were going your separate ways. Alexia had plans with some of her close-knit circle of friends from her hometown, whilst you were finishing up organising everything for when she came over to your place afterwards.

You had your arms crossed and eyebrows raised as you looked at her in warning where you stood at the driver's side window of her car. She had a smug grin on her face, like she wasn't listening to a thing you were saying.

“What if I just want to see you, mi amor?” She argued cheekily, but you scoffed.

“Well, I'm right here, telling you to NOT show up early.” 

“But I'm early to everything! Early is on time, on time is-”

“On time is late, late is what the hell is the point of being alive, yes I know you, Alexia.” You jabbed a finger into her chest, smiling at the toothy grin she responded with. “But this is your birthday and I have everything planned down to a T, if you're early then I'm just going to kick you out and make you sit outside in the corridor until it's the right time.”

There was a tight schedule for the day, one you were not going to break. Alexia may try her damn hardest but her determination isn't going to win out this time, because yours is stronger. 

She was going to spend the afternoon with her closest friends, the people that she knew she wouldn't be where she was now without them, whilst you had an intense few hours of cooking. Yes, hours. Cooking historically wasn't your favourite thing in the world, you were a pair that did not get along, but with a few tips and lessons from Alexia's mother, you had nearly perfected one dish that you knew Alexia would die for. Hopefully she wouldn't have to resort to such extremities as long as you keep to your timetable and she doesn't ruin that.

“Oh my god!” You suddenly exclaimed as your phone vibrated in your pocket, your alarm telling you to get home ASAP going off at that particular moment. “I need to go! You’re going to make me late!” 

Before Alexia could even blink, you had kissed her cheek and turned to head back to your car. But she wasn’t allowing that.

“Oye! Ven aquí, engel.” She sounded serious and a little strict then, you had no choice but to turn around and walk back towards her skeptically. You stood about a foot away from her door, though she beckoned you over with a wave of her hand and raised an eyebrow when you only shuffled a tiny bit. “Ven aquí.”

You rolled your eyes at her and did as she said, though your attitude didn’t stay for long when she pinched your cheeks together with one hand and leaned up to leave a lingering, firm kiss to your pouted lips that momentarily turned your brain to mush. After she pulled back, she chuckled a little menacingly at the daze she left you in, until you blinked out of whatever not so PG thoughts you’d fallen into and back to the present. 

“Don’t distract me!” You groaned, pushing her face away gently with your palm. “Have fun with your friends, I’ll see you later. At the right time, Ale!”

Fortunately for you, she did show up on ti- well, two minutes early actually, but you were running ahead of schedule thanks to the gracious extra time you gave yourself in case anything did go wrong. Some things… did go wrong, but all were salvageable, and now you had the most beautiful aroma of slow-cooked, completely homemade (apart from the actual pasta) shredded beef ragu pasta circling throughout your apartment, and if you didn’t say so yourself, it could definitely pass as a Michelin star meal.

However, out of all the outcomes you had thought of for that night, there was one that you never could have prepared yourself for.

“You reek of wine.” Was the first thing you said when you opened the door to your pink-cheeked, suspiciously happy girlfriend. You scrunched your nose up at the distinct scent coming from her, or actually it was probably just your hypersensitivity to most smells, whilst Alexia beamed at you from her place rooted in the doorway.

“Hola, guapisima.��� The blonde grinned, reaching her arms out and making toddler-esque grabby hands at you, otherwise known as asking for a hug in sober language. 

Your first thought, as you leaned in, was one of anxiety and stress, since you didn’t exactly plan to deal with a wine drunk Alexia for the first time especially with it being her birthday. But then, she hummed almost like a happy cat purring when you wrapped your arms around her, and she seemed relaxed and happy in a different way than you had seen so far. Thankfully she didn’t seem too drunk, maybe just a bit tipsy, and as you held her you giggled at the way she nuzzled her nose into the skin just below your jawline.

“You had fun then? With your friends?” You wondered as you ran a hand up and down her jumper clad back.

“Mhm.” She lifted her head up and smiled at you. You looked in her eyes, and found nothing but carefree and utter contentment swirling around there. It did something to your heart then, a feeling akin to relief and pride settling over you at how at peace she seemed to be in your company. Even if that was assisted by the alcohol in her system. “So happy to be with you now. I waited all day.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Softie.” You teased, giggling at how she tutted in disapproval at your comment and raised an eyebrow at you. “Feliz cumpleaños.”

“Tusen takk.” Alexia grinned in turn, her eyes creasing in the corners. “Ves? I am not early. I am at the right time and hungry, so let me in.”

“No.” You said just as she went to move past you. You tightened your arms around her waist so that she couldn't move, and she frowned grumpily as a result. “You're two minutes early, actually.”

“Vale.” She sighed, giving up the fight much easier than you expected, which only raised your suspicions further. “You cooked, sí? Mami said you were cooking a big meal?”

“I did, it's almo-” You were right to be wary of her behaviour, as her hands slipped down to the back of your thighs and she hoisted you up into her arms, catching you off guard. You pushed the door shut behind her before she walked away, only just managing to reach it over her shoulder as she started walking through your flat. “Ale! What are you doing?!”

Not that she made it too far before she almost sent the two of you flying down to the floor when she bumped into the set of drawers near the entryway.

“Be careful! How much did you drink?” You scolded lightly, grabbing onto the door frame that led into the kitchen to steady yourselves. 

“Hmm… does it matter?” She answered, curving the question with a smile on her face before the smell of food cooking caught her attention.

“No, you can’t be in here yet! Put me down, get out!” You panicked slightly at how the surprise would have been ruined as she went to head over to the stove, though it was instantly relieved when Alexia stopped in her tracks and lowered you back down to the floor with a grumble. “You can’t know yet, I need to serve it up. Go sit at the table and wait, please behave. No funny business.”

“I will stay here and behave and watch you.” The midfielder compromised, and with a defeated sigh, you nodded and got started with the final steps of the evening. 

“You're so weird.” You muttered, turning to glance back at her where she leaned back against the wall with her hands clasped behind her like a bored, young child when she clicked her tongue in disapproval.

“Not weird.” She grumbled, giving up on standing around and waiting, instead wandering over to stand beside you, drooling at the food you'd prepared until something caught her eye. “What is this?”

She picked up the piece of paper she saw and read through it – albeit with slightly blurred vision – and felt a wave of adoration wash over her.

“Oh, it's the… timetable I wrote for myself tonight. So I didn't forget anything.” You replied sheepishly, opting out of facing the blonde in case her and her unpredictable drunken antics decided to tease you for it.

You knew it might be a little weird to anyone else that you'd make such a detailed outline for the evening, but it was something you had always done and it hadn't failed you thus far. It was very meticulous, with timings for food and reminders of tiny things you didn't want to forget and when you could get ready for her arrival as the dinner cooked without it ruining the process. 

Though, Alexia didn't think it was weird or unusual. To her, it was just another glimpse into your mind and how it worked, and she treasured it anytime she got to see that. She was sure, when you weren't looking and didn't need it anymore, she'd slip it into her pocket and keep it as a memory. Sure it might just be a lined bit of paper ripped out of the nearest notebook with scribbled notes that only you could understand, but for Alexia it was a sentimental souvenir that represented so much more than just a nice evening together. Making sure everything went perfect and was well organised that night was one of your many ways of demonstrating your love for her and how deep it ran.

“I really appreciate you setting up this evening for us.” Alexia began quietly, resting her chin on your shoulder and wrapping an arm loosely around your waist as her hand found its place on your hip. “Mi novia bonita. You are the best.” 

“I'm sorry we aren't going out or doing anything fancy.” You mumbled insecurely, suddenly shrinking in on yourself and allowing the doubts to come in. 

Alexia might be here with a smile on her face, but would she have been happier elsewhere? An actual Michelin star restaurant with a girlfriend that could handle more than half an hour in such an environment? Dressed up to the nines and paying a bill of, at the very least, three digits rather than putting up with a haphazard home-cooked meal and a night in?

“Why you say that?” Alexia frowned, gently taking the dish you were holding as well as the ladle in your other hand and putting them both down for the time being. She put the lid back on the pot so that the food didn't cool too much, before urging you to face her with her hand moving to your shoulder. “Why, when I think this is the perfect way to spend my birthday?”

“Because other years you've had parties and nights out, you've told me all about them and the dinners you've had and stuff. This is just… nothing compared to all those. But it's all I can give you and it doesn't feel like enough. I just… I tried my best though.” 

The words come out thick and fast with little warning, revealing stresses that you'd carried on your shoulders for days since you came up with the idea for this night. You tried to disguise them, whenever Alexia asked previously you what was up you shrugged her off, but of course it was now of all moments that you spilt all you felt. 

“No. No, no, no.” Alexia said, her eyebrows pressed down into a scowl of determination, which you took as anger.

“I am sorry, Alexia, I did try my b-”

“And your best is so much more than I could wish for.” She cut you off in a firm voice, her hands on either side of your neck as her thumbs under her chin tilted your head up to face her. “It is more than enough. I see what you have done here for me and I see you. Not what you can't do. Those other things for my birthday, they were more for my family and my friends to enjoy. I liked them, but… there is a reason I didn't want to do all that this year and it's not because of you. It's because it's not what I want, but you know what I want, and I know that because you've planned this night and it is perfect for me.”

With her flushed cheeks and slightly tousled hair from… well, from what you weren't sure though it probably had the same reasonings as the red tinge to her cheeks, but it was her wide eyes that really tied off the slightly manic appearance of her. Like, if you didn't believe everything she said, she might go on a tipsy rampage against everyone that had done you so wrong it had led to your current doubtful mindset. 

Your hands were clasped in front of you, fidgeting as you processed her words which had been a little unexpected. Perhaps a drunk Alexia wasn't such a worrying thing like you thought it might be.

“A… are you sure? I mean, I d-” 

“Spending time with the woman I love? She cooks an amazing meal for me? And it is just us, nobody else?” She interrupted you again, a soft smile on her face as her thumbs carefully caressed the soft skin of your cheeks. “I love that, cariño, I really have been so excited all day. Please, never… belittle yourself over what you can't do, when everything that you are doing is more than good enough for everybody around you. Nobody loves like you do and I feel very lucky to be the one that gets all you have to give.”

Definitely not as bad as you feared.

“You…” Speechless, you trailed off and shook your head. So you leaned in and hugged her, because there was very little you could say to repay her for her thoughtfulness other than- “I love you.”

“I love you too, mi amor.” Alexia hummed into your ear, swaying you both on the spot before her temporarily depleted attention span averted back to the pasta that was calling her name. “I also love pasta so please let me eat now. Two minutes have passed, no?” 

There was a grin pressed against the skin of your neck as you lightly hit her back for her comment. That night with Alexia was just another example of how well she truly knew you, unlike anyone you'd ever met. And that pride from earlier? It returned as you say across from her at the dinner table, a rich amount of pasta dished up in front of you both, because she said you knew her too. You knew her too. 

As it turned out, your cooking skills far surpassed Alexia's expectations, nevermind your own. She may have been a tiny bit worried considering the few but memorable occasions of you trying to cook for her, so she'd have to thank her mother in a very generous way, because it might have been one of the best things she'd ever been served. When the midfielder slumped back in her chair, the button to her trousers undone after stuffing her face with a week’s worth of pasta, her eyes never steered away from you.

You weren't doing anything of note, you were simply loading the dishwasher up with the plates and cutlery and whatnot that you'd used that day. Yet, for your girlfriend, there was so much love blooming through her chest she had no idea what to do with it apart from gaze at you like you were the one who had invented football.

“Your presents are in my bedroom by the way. I, um… may have gone a bit overboard.” You admitted shyly as you went to go back to your chair, though you were stopped in your tracks when an arm curved around your waist and pulled you down to sit on Alexia’s lap.

“Your bedroom?” She said lowly, a glint in her eyes that were solely focused on your lips. You blushed, knowing exactly what was on her mind, having come to recognise the pattern in her behaviour when she wanted… something in particular. You dragged the whole thing out, knowing it only ended in one way, but where’s the fun in that?

“Mhm.” You nodded, your heart rate speeding up a tad at how she smirked afterwards.

“Vaya, qué conveniente, no?” Alexia murmured, leaning in so that your noses brushed together and your lips were millimetres apart. At her teasing, you tried to resist the bashful smile but Alexia saw it for a split second before you could repress it. “Bueno. Vamos.”

In an instant, she was up from her seat with you in her arms, one strict destination in her mind with one very likeable goal. 

“Ale, I just had a giant bowl of pasta!” 

“No me importa, mi amor.” She sang, before kicking the bedroom door shut behind you both.

—

From an outsider’s perspective, your relationship seemed just as perfect as it was in your point of view. Didn’t take a genius to recognise that; five minutes with you and Alexia, anyone could see how much you valued each other.

“-and then my mother rang Mapi, like actually called her, just to see if I was lying. They teamed up on me, snuppa, my mother and my girlfriend. Over soup.” 

“That is… you got yourself into that mess, Ingrid. I can’t comment. Can’t take sides.”

Just like it had been ten years ago, back home in Norway in a tiny hotel in Oslo, you and Ingrid were sharing a room for an away game. There had been training, dinner, and now it was downtime where everybody could choose what they wanted to do. With Alexia at the press conference and Mapi… doing whatever Mapi did, you and Ingrid settled for a relaxed night in, though the movie you’d landed on was long forgotten in the background.

“You just took a side. Unbelievable.” The dark-haired woman sighed, shaking her head in disappointment. You grinned, lay on your side on your bed as Ingrid painted her nails across from you on hers.

It was peaceful and just what you wanted it to be, some time alone with your second favourite person in your life where you could just exist in each other’s company. Unfortunately, though to nobody’s surprise, it didn’t last long.

“Buenas noches.” Alexia smiled as she walked in, somehow having acquired a keycard to your room.

“What are you doing here?” You asked in confusion, not expecting to see her for the rest of the evening since you weren’t sharing a room.

“Oh, what a lovely greeting.” She scoffed jokingly, disregarding the fact you were midway through a conversation and flopping down onto the space next to you. The blonde lay on her stomach, face turned into your back as an arm flung around your waist. And she just stayed there.

With a glance at Ingrid, who shrugged her shoulders, you rolled your eyes at your girlfriend’s antics before the pair of you slipped back into conversation like nothing had happened. Alexia piped up every now and then, but for the most part, she remained quiet and just relished in your company. 

Ingrid hadn’t seen these sides to either of you, ever.

It was something small, you and Alexia didn't even exchange a word, but there was a smile on your face as you chatted with Ingrid that the defender didn't see much until Alexia came into your life. Still, it was big enough for her to come to a realisation. Two, actually.

First, that you were happy with Alexia, which made her beam with joy for you and feel extra grateful for Alexia. The second, though, was something she had hoped would happen the minute she caught wind of the transfer rumours. You were completely, genuinely, whole-heartedly happy with your life at Barcelona. And in Barcelona too of course, but you weren't currently in the city at that moment, you were halfway across the country, so. But her point still stood.

However, no matter how much she valued your happiness, she could get to that another time. For now, she wanted-

“I want to go to sleep now.” She decided, zipping up the bag in which she kept all her nail stuff for when she travelled, looking at the two of you on the bed and noting the puzzled expression on your face.

“Then go to sleep, Ingrid, nobody is stopping you.” Alexia chuckled behind you at that, quickly leaving a kiss on the back of your neck before sitting up. 

“No, she is trying to tell me to get out.” She yawned, sharing a smile with Ingrid at your misunderstanding.

“Oh. Well, get out then. You’re not even supposed to be here.” Ingrid grinned at your reply that had Alexia frowning, not expecting you to go against her.

“You’re supposed to be on my side, cari.” She argued, nudging your knee.

“Ask Ingrid. I don’t take sides. The only side I’m on is the right side of justice.” Ingrid bursted out laughing at that and you had to stifle your own, though you did smile at the unimpressed but amused look on Alexia’s face. “Take it up with the club, those are the rules. You’re the captain. I’m sure they will be so glad to hear you can’t stay away from your girlfriend for a few hours overnight.”

The captain shook her head and stood, tugging you off the bed and wrapping you up in a hug that had a better purpose than simply saying goodnight. She slipped her own keycard into your pocket and whispered something unintelligible for Ingrid’s ears to you. Then, she left with a grin, and Ingrid scoffed as you turned back to her shyly, cheeks bright red.

“You know what, I don’t even want to know.” Ingrid said, gathering her things to take into the bathroom to start her night routine.

“It was nothing like that!” You claimed abruptly, realising where her mind had gone. You hesitated for a moment, before remembering who it was in front of you. “She was just being sweet. Saying she would miss me for the night.”

All Ingrid could do was shake her head at the pair of you and how utterly loved up you were, because with every glimpse she caught of the true nature of your connection with each other, it exceeded her hopes and expectations every single time. So, with her hands on her hips as she took the sight of you smiling with a soft shyness to your face and how you fidgeted with the keycard in your pocket, she had no qualms expressing her feelings.

“Do you know how much it means to me? To see you this happy with someone?” Was what she said, which you weren’t expecting at all. You were expecting more teasing, or for her to just tell you to be quiet so she could get ready for bed. Certainly not that.

“What do you mean?” You wondered quietly. She came to stand in front of you and put her hands on your shoulders, meeting your curious stare with a proud look in her eye.

“It just makes me happy to see that you have found someone that treats you exactly as you deserve to be treated. Who isn't afraid to ask questions, who goes above and beyond for you, who sees you for who you are. I had no idea Alexia would be that person for you but I am so glad she is. I am just… relieved and proud that this is how things have worked out for you with moving to this club. I was worried you wouldn't like it but you have really made a place for yourself. And you even got yourself a girlfriend, like, look at you go!” Ingrid beamed, shaking you a little from excitement as she spoke. 

You giggled at her because this moment was so Ingrid, but at the same time, it tugged on your heart strings. Her words put things into perspective for you about everything that had happened since you left Germany, and though there had been lows, there were so many more highs than you realised. Even still, the best was yet to come.

There wasn’t a single part of you that would ever get tired of hearing how proud and happy Ingrid was for you. You’d looked up to her since the moment you met her, she was an example to you, like a big sister. No way would you be the person you were without her. She’s one of those people you hold onto for life, and you would spend the rest of yours trying to repay her for everything she’d done for you.

The next morning, when Ingrid woke up alone in your shared hotel room, she wasn’t even surprised, nor was she the slightest bit concerned for your whereabouts. There was only one place you would be, and though you cruelly abandoned her some point during the night, the sight of you walking in with Alexia, wearing her training jersey with 11 printed on it, her arm around your shoulders as you giggled at something she said to you, was very much welcome.

—

When something wasn’t quite right with Alexia, your entire world felt off-kilt, until you got to the bottom of what was up with her. Sometimes she’d willingly come to you for some support and comfort, other times she was reluctant, and very much stuck in her own head.

Like, for example, just before the season started ramping up, she got a minor muscle injury that’d keep her out for a couple weeks. Everyone knew how it’d make her feel, but it was up to you to be there and reassure her that no, the world wasn’t ending, and yes, she could be the little spoon for that evening. 

Alexia was a bit of a doom-thinker, which not many people knew about, but it was the truth. The moment she was told some bad news, there was a frown paired with a scowl which both were so deeply imprinted on her face, if there was a gust of strong wind, she might actually, genuinely, get stuck like that. Her mind worked on overdrive, thinking and thinking and thinking until she could land on the fastest solution to whatever was wrong. When there wasn’t an immediate solution, well… you wouldn’t be surprised if her head exploded.

So, after having gone home before Alexia was done with her physio assessment, you raced back as soon as you could the second one of the Barca staff told you she was still there, on her own, watching the B-team’s training session. You had tried ringing her, though you knew her phone was most likely sitting in her bag in the locker room as she attempted to gain some peace of mind. The captain had apparently been there for quite some time, however, and you felt she’d had enough time on her own to process it before she needed the care of someone she loved.

She sat on the second-to-top row of the bleachers, hood up and cap on with her hands in her pockets, slumped back against her chair as her eyes tracked every movement of the young players in front of her. You approached her quietly and cautiously, as if trying not to spook away some sort of wild, erratic, unpredictable animal. But no, it was just your emotionally inept girlfriend- inept only when it came to football and injuries.

Even though she could definitely hear you, she gave nothing away.

“Ale? Can I sit with you, or would you like some more time on your own?” You asked gently, the blonde staying silent. “I can leave if you’d like. Just thought I’d come check on you.”

After a second or two, she shook her head and waved you over. She didn’t really know what to say, her mind was split in half and each side was fighting it out between being angry and being logical. She knew she’d be back in no time, but there were still games missed. Missed games, missed opportunities.

You took the seat beside her and tried to get a read on her face, which was entirely emotionless apart from the way she pursed her lips and the slight scowl she had that couldn’t be blamed on the sun, thanks to her hat. Without really knowing how she felt, you didn’t know what to do. Alexia had never lashed out at you to ever give you the wrong idea, but you really didn’t want to say the wrong thing and make her feel worse, or angry.

That was until, about a minute after you sat down, she shuffled a little closer in her seat to where you sat, her shoulder just slightly brushing against yours. You knew that was her silently reaching out, so you complied easily, and rested a hand on her thigh, which she immediately grasped onto with her own. 

“It is so annoying.” You heard her say some time later, her voice just a whisper which had the tiniest crack of emotion in it. “And I am annoyed that I feel annoyed.”

Her eyes were still unmoving from the pitch, but as you looked at her, you smiled sadly, and slipped your hand out of hers to wrap an arm around her shoulders. You coaxed her closer to you, glad when she leaned your head against yours. You would never wish for her to be in this position or a situation similar, but right now you knew she was okay and safe, so you relished in the fact she sought you out, like you did when the roles were reversed. It was the wrong moment to think such a thing, but you were almost relieved that she also needed you when she was going through a difficult time, like you needed her. 

“I know. Nobody expects you to just sit back, take this news, and not be angry that an injury has come when you’re so in form. And when the team needs everybody because it’s going to get hectic soon. Let yourself feel frustrated, you’re allowed to and expected to. But when we wake up tomorrow, you’re gonna come here, and you’re gonna get on with rehab because that is your mindset. You know, when you get up in the morning, these resentful feelings will have gone. You just have to feel them.” You settled on reminding her that she knows she will get past it, because it was the truth, and trying to sugarcoat anything or pretending like all was okay would have been the wrong way to go about this situation. 

Alexia was ineffably grateful. For you coming to be beside her, for your words, and just for you overall. She always found these first moments after bad news difficult, but the road ahead of her seemed so much clearer with every bit of reassurance you gave.

“And you will be with me, huh?” She turned to you with a slight smirk, an act you knew was a classic performance of fake it ‘til you make it. If she acted confident, maybe she would start to feel somewhat sure of herself again.

“And I will be with you for every second of it. Every second.” You told her with a bright smile, and the combination of that and your dedication to her also brought a smile of her own to her face. “You are the most determined person I have ever met. But it is human to have blips. It’s why I’m here; to try to make you feel better because you don’t have to go through blips alone.”

Somehow, you were saying all the right things, even if you thought you were just muddling through an internal checkbook of ‘things people say to each other during hard times.’ Seeing Alexia with a smile on her face compared to the stormy expression she wore when you arrived was a huge boost in confidence. Even more so when she turned her body towards you and ducked her head down so that she could rest her chin on your shoulder as she brought you in for a hug that comforted you just as much as it did her.

“Thank you for coming here.” She mumbled into your jacket, and you kissed her cheek afterwards. 

“Always. It is my duty to the team, no?” You couldn’t help but grin in triumph when she laughed, slightly muffled by your clothes, but she laughed nevertheless. “And as your girlfriend, I suppose.”

“You suppose.”

“Fine. It is my duty, a duty I take very seriously. A duty I’m very good at, considering I’ve got you here in my arms, laughing like you didn’t look like you wanted to watch the world burn when I arrived.”

“You are… annoying. Cocky, smug, and annoying. Stop it.”

—

You were serious when you said you’d be there every second along her rehab. As you had told her, it was a duty you took very seriously. But how serious, Alexia didn’t know in that instance at the training ground. 

One of your favourite love languages for others was gift giving, you were sort of known as the best present-buyer with everyone you know, because that was also another thing you did not joke about. Though, it was your spontaneity with such a habit that you knew people appreciated most. And who else would be at the top of that long list of people, other than your girlfriend. 

Even if you did accidentally almost send her to hospital as you walked into her apartment out of the blue as she sat at her dining table with her headphones on. 

Since she was out of playing action and feeling a little useless with what she could give to the team, she basically took it upon herself to take notes of the matches and training sessions that she’d missed whilst she was gone so that she could send them to the team and hope they got good use out of it. That meant her attention was entirely on her laptop and notepad when you walked in, a small gift bag in your hand and a nervous look on your face, which she missed of course.

It wasn’t until you were stood beside her and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder that she jumped out of her skin and slammed her headphones down on the table so hard out of fear, you worried she’d broken them. Then, she exhaled deeply, hand on her heart as she worked to slow it down once she noticed it was you. Unfortunately for her, you had no control over the laughter that bubbled out of you at her dramatic reaction, to which she groaned and pulled you closer with an arm around your waist, hiding her face in your stomach out of embarrassment. 

At that point, you noticed something very convenient for the gift you had bought her. Her hair was tied up into a messy bun, making your life so much easier.

“Close your eyes, Ale. I have something for you, you’re not allowed to see it.” 

“Why get me something if I cannot see what it is?” She argued, putting on that frustratingly endearing faux innocent expression she often put on when trying to fight her case over something small and light-hearted like this.

“Just be quiet and do what I say.” You told her, attempting to be stern but it was entirely futile when she gazed up at you like that, and before you’d even finished your sentence, there was a smile on your face. 

Despite how she rolled her eyes teasingly, she closed her eyes and sat still, waiting for whatever you had in store for her. As she sat there, she could hear you reaching into the bag she spotted and taking something out of it, but other than that, she was none the wiser to what her surprise was. Her eyebrows shot up when she felt you lay something delicate around her neck.

“Engel, what have you done?” She enquired, her eyes still shut as she fought the urge to open them prematurely.

You stayed silent, making sure the present was secure, before tapping her shoulder to indicate you were done and stepping back shyly. The second she opened her eyes, she fixed you with a knowing, accusatory glare, before standing and heading over to the mirror, where her face lit up at what she saw.

A dainty gold chain sat perfectly across her neckline, a simple piece of jewellery that immediately jumped up to the top of her favourites. There wasn’t anything outrightly extravagant about it, it was discreet and meant to be worn with daily casual clothes, but Alexia wondered how she’d gone without it for so long, because it was truly perfect. She couldn’t find a better word to describe it. Maybe priceless, because the sentiment behind it was even more beautiful to her than the appearance of it. 

You had gone out with some friends having woken up without Alexia beside you that morning with no plans to see each other that day. Yet, there you were, showing up out of the blue with a surprise that she treasured after having it in her possession for no more than a minute. It was supposed to be an entirely inconspicuous day for the pair of you, but that flew out the window when you decided to get her a gift that could probably never be topped.

Alexia never really found herself as someone that people randomly bought gifts for. Sure, her mother and her sister might spot something and get it for her, but other than that, everyone assumed she had everything she could ever need, what with her wages and her sponsors and bonuses for all the thirty titles she’d won. She never would have known that a necklace could evoke such a whirlwind of emotion throughout her. It stuck in her mind, on repeat, over and over; you went out shopping with friends, without Alexia even jokingly asking for a present, and had seen something which made you think of her. And you even went so far as to buy it for her, and then surprise her at her own apartment with no warning. 

“It’s just something small, I know it’s not all that special, but I saw it and thought of you and deci-” 

The blonde had a habit of cutting you off when you rambled insecurely, though it wasn’t something you had a particular distaste for. Every time she did so, she stopped you in your tracks and did something that pulled each anxiety from your mind until you forgot what you were even worrying about. Whether that be by talking, or drawing you in for a hug, or offering a distraction, or in this case, indulging in the overwhelming amount of love she felt by kissing the life out of you.

Though, for her, that still wasn’t enough of an expression of her feelings, so just as you caught up with her she pulled away. Her arms were around your waist in an instant, and she lifted you up off the ground and spun you both around, like movie stars in the rain. However, thankfully you were both warm and majoritively dry in the comfort of Alexia’s apartment- majoritively dry, because there were… tears on your neck?

“Are you crying?” You asked in disbelief, surprised that she’d have such a reaction to just a necklace.

“Yes. Yes I am.” Alexia answered with a laugh, using one of her hands to hastily brush away the endless tears that fell. “I am crying because you bought me a necklace. For no reason, you bought me a necklace, and I really l-love that. It means a lot to m-me, amor.” 

Her reaction almost had you crying too; she was adorable, and you hugged her tighter because it felt like that was all you could do. Every day with her, she showed a new side to who she was away from Alexia Putellas, the merciless footballer that was no match for anyone. This version, this emotional, choked up version of her was so heart-warming, part of you wished the world could see it, whilst the rest of you relished in the fact you were the only person to see it. Only you could make her cry over a necklace, and as weird as that was, it was your badge of honour you’d wear with pride. 

Perhaps your bank account wouldn’t agree, but you’d buy her a dainty gold chain everyday of the year if it meant she felt at least half as loved as she made you feel.

—

Somewhere along the way since you first fell in love with Alexia, Barcelona officially became… home. 

Germany was never home, you always knew you’d move away at some point. You liked the city you were in, you thought you loved it at the time, but… Barcelona introduced to you what love actually was, and it was Alexia. 

You didn’t know what life had waiting for you years down the line, and if you thought about that and its unknowns for too long, you would send yourself into an anxious tizzy that was entirely unnecessary. For now, you were the happiest you’d ever been, and it just so happened that you were in Barcelona when that happened. The city was dreamy, though so was the woman you were in love with. So were your friends. Everything about your life was the best it’d ever been.

That, unsurprisingly to you, opened up a world of daydreams and scenarios to think about. The first on your agenda, which was a terrifying one if it didn’t go your way: would Alexia ever want to live with you?

“Ale? Can we talk about something?” You said out of the blue as the pair of you walked along a beach in Madeira, hand in hand as the waves lapped calmly over your feet and the sun and the sky flaunted its beauty with shades of purples, pinks, and oranges, painting the perfect, serene background to a conversation sure to bring some anxiety. 

“Of course. Anything. Do you want to sit down and talk?” Alexia suggested, taking you both a little higher up the sand after you nodded. She took a seat first, before looking up at you with a welcoming smile as you paused for a moment, then sat down.

It was probably ridiculous and childish that you thought so, but you hated how the dynamic of any kind of relationship could change with one conversation. With what you were about to say, you felt sick at the possible outcomes. You knew what you were about to say, whilst Alexia was blissfully unaware of the storm you were about to kick up. The words were on the tip of your tongue as you looked at her, and your mouth opened and closed for a few moments as you built up the courage to speak them. Eventually, you did, and Alexia waited patiently throughout your internal warfare.

“Would you… ever want to, maybe, live together? One day?”

For a few brief moments (the worst of your life), Alexia didn’t respond. In that short time, your anxiety reached whole new heights, convincing you that the next words out of Alexia’s mouth would be her breaking up with you. They weren’t, of course they weren’t.

“I would love to. I really would.” She admitted coyly, smiling and shaking her head at the utter look of shock on your face. “I have been thinking about this for some time, I just didn’t know how to bring it up. So, please, tell me what you think.”

“What I think?” Alexia nodded, a comforting hand landing on your knee. “Well… I don’t know how we would do it.”

“What do you mean? We just decide whose apartment to move to and do that, no?” 

It wasn’t that simple, unfortunately. This was something you did indeed have a lot of thoughts on, and maybe it’d be those that would finally scare her off. 

Alexia was amazing at understanding, but she wasn’t perfect. Nobody could blame her for not being clued in on something like this, especially since it was the first time you were talking about it together.

“I… that wouldn’t work. Not for me anyway.” You started, a little disheartened by the frown that formed on her face. Still, you explained yourself. “If I moved into your apartment, it wouldn’t feel like my home. I love your apartment, I do, but it’s your apartment and always has been. If you moved into my apartment, that would mean that… it’s not my space anymore. Which makes no sense at all because it obviously would be, but… I don’t know how to explain it best. It’s…”

You trailed off, frustrated at how you couldn’t properly articulate yourself in such a delicate situation. But, now that she was clued in, Alexia understood exactly what you meant. 

Your apartment was your dedicated space; having someone move in, no matter who it was, would feel like having an intruder there at all times. Everything would be different in your mind, even if the only physical difference was Alexia, your girlfriend. It’d take you months, or probably even years, to get used to it. And you know you couldn’t live like that, even if you so desperately wanted to. 

Living with Alexia in her apartment would be even worse. You know her apartment as a visitor, but not as a resident. If you lived there, it would constantly feel like you were in someone else’s home and not your own. These two things, though they may be the easiest options theoretically, would cause all kinds of hell for you and probably reverse all the progress you’d made since moving to Spain. It would put strain on everything, from your relationships, to the football you played, to your mental health, everything. It just wasn’t a feasible or healthy option.

“I understand that, mi amor. I understand all that you said.” Alexia tried to reassure you, but you could see the sadness in her eyes that she tried to disguise. She was upset by this new revelation, and that wrecked you. “Please don’t feel guilty about it though. I am not mad or anything.”

You nodded and avoided her eyes, focussing your attention on the ocean in front of you and crossing your arms, like you were protecting yourself. You pulled away from your girlfriend to get away from the inevitable pain of her pulling away instead. Alexia realised that and had to suppress a sigh, not one of annoyance or along those lines, but out of concern, because she could see that turmoil this conversation had caused you. 

She decided to give you a couple minutes to think on your own, wondering if that’s what you’d need to process all that had just occurred. She was right to do that, because you did something rare. Rather than dwelling on the negative outcomes of what just happened, you tried your best to make something good out of it.

Because, in the end, relationships were all about compromise.

“Maybe, next year or next season or whatever, we…” You paused to take a breath, then addressed Alexia directly. She met you with a curious and open gaze, wordlessly encouraging you to get whatever it was off your chest. “We revisit this conversation, and… look at houses together?”

A new, shared space would work. A blank canvas for you both to work together on, to figure out together, to make a house into a home, together.

Alexia’s wide, bright smile was worth more than anything else in the world. One second, she was sat beside you, and the next, she had lunged forward to tackle you to the soft gold ground beneath you, putting her weight on you as she leaned down to shower you with the surge of adoration she felt. She peppered kisses all over your face and down to your neck, eliciting a surprised giggle out of you that was priceless to her. 

Your future, your shared future with the woman that lay on top of you, was in sight and near enough solidified. In a few years, you might not be a Barcelona player, football might take you down a completely different road, but the one you were on now, where you had plans to buy a house with Alexia, was enough for now, enough to settle the anxiety you always got when you thought about the future, because things were pretty good at that moment.

And to tie off an all-round very successful conversation, Alexia said something that summarised your whole relationship in only a single sentence. 

“Whatever you want to do, we will do, because seeing you happy makes me happy also.” 

—

depending on the reaction to this, i have no idea when or if there will be another story after this one. very anxious to post for reverie after all that happened because people have not so fun opinions about this overall topic that can and will wreck me which is pretty scary so :)

[pha55ed]

Nonsense Christmas || F1/F2

type :: smut!

tw/cw :: smut!, hot women in minimal clothing!!!, sexual jokes,

contains :: carlos, charles, lando, oscar, max (no smut yet!) , ollie, paul, pepe (no smut yet!)

summary :: you get offered to do a photoshoot for christmas which is awesome! but the drivers then find out it's a lingerie shoot and lose their minds

xmas celly here! || f1 masterlist || f2 masterlist

Carlos Sainz | 55

yourusername : so excited to announce my collab with savage x fenty! this design is so cute and perfect for girlys to surprise their bfs (or gfs) in! which is what im doing rn! hi carlos 👋😊

→ user 01: OH MY GAWWWD??? JAW ON THE FLOOR

⎯→ user 02: Carlos gotta be able to fight or else imma snatch her away

→ carlossainz55: you look lovely! (answer the phone now)

⎯→ yourusername: thank you!! (no, im scared

→ user 03: her face card is so lethal

→ user 04: she's this generations it girl omfg

The second you answered his calls, Carlos was hyperventilating. It was like you could practically hear how feral he was going after seeing your photoshoot. You couldn't help but smile at the thought of him going crazy. Your surprise went perfectly!

"I'm coming home now," He says sternly, "Unlock all the doors, I'm running in."

"Well that doesn't sound very safe." You say, trying to joke with him. Thank god he couldn't see you in person or else he would see how wide you were grinning at his words.

"Oh shut up, wait for me on the bed" He says as he hangs up.

You did your job and now all you had to do was wait- Oh my fucking god he's at the door already. You can't even say anything before he's all up on you, getting ready to berate you for looking too good for the world's eyes.

"I missed you" He mumbles as he kisses your neck eagerly. His hands roaming down to your ass, giving it a squeeze which makes you laugh. But he's not smiling at all. You knew what was gonna happen and you didn't care.

Charles Leclerc | 16

yourusername : the victoria secret winter showcase was such a blast! loved seeing all my girls again and esp all you guys! i wouldn't be here without you <3 happy holidays to all

→ user 01: MOTHER IS BACK!!!!

⎯→ user 02: Literally the best walk in the whole show

→ charles_leclerc: i will go to war for you

⎯→ user 03: she awoken his primal instincts

→ user 04: will we see you again??? u were SLAYINGGG

⎯→ yourusername: duh! see you next year <3

→ user 04: she's beautiful, humble, and with a rich boyfriend? when is it my turn

The second you got off stage, Charles was doing his absolute best to compose himself. Seeing you still in your lingerie set, cute little hat and gloves made him pants feel so tight. You kept wanting to say goodbye to all the girls, thanking the staff, being your usual self. This is the one time Charles was wishing you would keep your mouth shut and rush home.

Once you both were out, he rushed you into the car. But not the passenger seat, instead he pushed you into the back seats. He quickly followed you, unbuckling his belt and staring at your body.

"Charles!" You say, shocked at how desperate this man was. "We can't! People are gonna see-"

"And?" He says as he rips his belt off and begins to unbutton his shirt. "My windows are tinted, amor, no one will see."

He's hands are quick, instantly getting your clothes off too. Once he saw the same white lacy set you were wearing earlier, he can't help but grin like crazy. He was worshipping the ground you walked on. Practically licking your footsteps.

"I'm so so lucky," He groans, his hands caresses your body with such care. "So so lucky."

Lando Norris | 04

yourusername : skim's winter collection is out!!! And I'm part of it! So happy to show off these sets to the world ❤️

→ user 01: body is TEAAAA

⎯→ user 02: the body of my dream fr fr

→ landonorris: but when i wear ur bras I'm a slut???

⎯→ yourusername: u got no boobs to deserve a bra

⎯→ landonorris: so ur calling me skinnyyyyyyy?

→ user 03: slayed so hard that dinosaurs r extinct

⎯→ yourusername: don't blame me for that :(

→ user 04: can't believe lando is just... joking around... do u think this is a fucking game? you think this is funny? i will steal your girl and propose and start a family of 5.

⎯→ landonorris: trust me, we're gonna be a family of 5 once i'm home

And he wasn't joking about that comment because you two have been at it for almost an hour at this point. He was flipping you from position to position just to make sure he got every single angle of you in this lingerie set. Doggy, missionary, cowgirl, all sorts of positions that even Sabrina Carpenter hasn't tried.

He already cummed once too, but he was so horny that he was instantly recharged. Thankfully he was sane enough to help clean you up before pounding you once again. But that was the only break you had. You couldn't help but just feel bad for your neighbors for having to hear you two go wild.

But Lando isn't a monster! He knows that it can hurt after going for so long. So while your whining, begging him to slow down or give you a break for minute, he simply just reaches for the bedside drawer. He whips out a fat tube of lube and squirts some onto his dick before quickly getting back to work.

"L-Love you," He mumbles as he keeps thrusting in and out "Love you so much, ahh"

Oscar Piastri | 81

yourusername: let my inner princess out for Victoria Secret's Santa Baby collection! every piece is so precious, just like all the crew members and girls 💋

→ user 01: literally a goddess

⎯→ user 02: blessed by aphrodite herself

⎯→ user 03: she IS aphrodite

⎯→ yourusername: don't curse me girl 🙅‍♀️🙅‍♀️

→ user 04: ur such a ball of sunshine UGHHHH

→ user 05: i pray this doesn't get on my bf's feed

→ user 06: can oscar fight?

⎯→ oscarpiastri: no but i can dox you

You know "Jealous" by Nick Jonas? That's exactly how he's feeling right now. Seeing everyone admire not just your body but how lovely your energy is was making him want to burn the entire building down. He was so supportive of your being a model, how could he gate keep your beauty from the world?

But now, oh god he hates this. He rushes you both home after the shoot and instantly lays you on the bed. His mind is racing yet he's not saying much to you.

"Oscar?" You ask him, looking up at him from the bed. Which instantly makes his dick throb, something you see through his pants. Even just saying his name might drive him to the edge.

"If I cover you in hickies, you can't work anymore, right?" He says, taking off your top and rushing to unbutton your jeans.

"Don't do that," You say trying to sound stern but you did love the idea. "You know I have another shoot soon!"

"You have foundation," He says as he begins to kiss down your neck and pressing harsh circles on your clit "You'll live." He says as he pushes your panties to the side. Your breathing hitches, knowing how good he was with his fingers.

"Unless," He pulls his hands away and looks down at you. "you really don't want to?"

But he knows you want it, he just wanted to hear you say it. To know you were as needy for him that he was for you.

Max Verstappen | 01

yourusername: i WOULD be freezing cold but thank god for the skims fleece bodysuits!! happy holidays to all! may ur pussys be warm and used ⛷️

→ user 01: (Y/N)?!?!?!1 THE CAPTION

⎯→ user 02: i need to know if kim's reaction to this 😭

→ user 03: literally like a barbie doll

→ user 04: looked at myself and sighed

⎯→ yourusername: stalked ur page and found ur facebook, GIRL u go to stanford, have a nice ass house, AND A LETHAL ASS FACECARDDDD hush ur mouth, ur lovely

⎯→ user 04: omg thank you??!?!?!?!! 😭😭

⎯→ user 05: she's the ultimate girls-girls

→ user 06: if max doesn't comment soon i'mma assume she's free for me

→ maxverstappen1: sorry i was drooling, im only commenting to scare user 06 away

⎯→ user 06: im gonna hex you.

Smut coming soon! So tired :”) I’m sorry! MWAH 🫶 Come back tomorrow !

Oliver Bearman | 87

yourusername: so so so happy to modeling the newest set for my bestie's brand! i'm wearing... nothing... 😉 the real sets come out in a week! stay tuned MWAH

→ user 01: my whole face is PINK omg

⎯→ user 02: my tip is RED

⎯→ user 03: oh...

⎯→ user 02: i'm a girl, dw

→ user 03: ... start an onlyfans... please.... please please please

→ user 04: oh my godddddd, i dropped the keys to my 1962 Ferrari 250 GTO, oh I'm so clumsy! (I'm 6'0 too) (and pretty funny)

⎯→ olliebearman: and i drive for ferrari, at 6'1, whilst cracking jokes

Ollie knows his worth, he knows he's a highly sought after man. But he's never felt more insecure than now, reading your comments filled with not just men but also girls?! He had to fight off both sides, which made him feel even more weary that his girlfriend is so desired.

So the only way for him to stop his insecurities was easy! Just fuck it out of his system, duh! So now, you're stuck bent over in doggy style in the shower. Why the shower? Because he knew he would make an absolute mess out of you.

He's pounding into you, making loud slaps against the walls. It echos throughout the entire bathroom. You're sure your neighbors can hear but there's not much you can do. You're stuck being a moaning mess while he's holding onto your hips for dear life.

As if that wasn't enough, he leaned forward to whisper into your ear. "Never, never again..." He says, breathing heavy from being so tired, yet his body was moving on his own. "No one can see you like this, ever."

Paul Aron | 17

yourusername: "angel?" set is out now! so proud to be part of the process for this🪽 i did, indeed, feel like an angel

→ user 01: mind you this is my first impression of you... and i'm following asap

⎯→ user 02: i was prepared to fight u for a second

→ user 03: LAWWDDD??? I COULD TAKE A BITE OUTTA UR ASS

⎯→ user 04: enough ass to feed a whole family of 5

→ user 05: paul... count your days

⎯→ paularon_: what did i do???

⎯→ user 06: u better worship the ground she walks on

⎯→ paularon_: of course i do, that's my whole purpose

→ user 07: perfect body, gorgeous face, hot ass boyfriend, GOD HAS FAVORITES

Oh he's livid. Not because you did the shoot, how could he blame you for simply looking good? He knew he picked a baddie and was ready to take all the repercussions alongside it. But he was livid because the fans were practically drooling over you. He's a possessive guy, it's basically his middle name.

He won't get off you at all, as if he needs you like air. His comment was a lie, he was worshipping you just like he should. Leaving hickies all over your neck, sucking on your breast, fingering you until you cummed at least twice. And he's not even done.

It's like he's trying his best to tease himself for as long as possible. You see how huge his dick is, how it's practically drowning in it's own precum. But he refuses to fuck you until he knows you're satisfied.

He's mainly doing this because he knows he's going to cum fast. Just from giving you pleasure makes him want to cum already. Being inside would only make him last one thrust, maybe two if he's lucky.

You're tired, fucked out from his fingers and sore from his hickies. But he simply kisses your cheek before bringing his head down to your cunt.

"N-No," you say, so overstimulated and wanting to see him get pleasure too. "Paul, just... Just f-fuck me already"

"Shhh" He says, not giving a single care for what you have to say. As he licks your cunt. You shiver from the touch, already knowing you're going to stuck in that bed for hours.

Pepe Marti | 21

yourusername: was i cold? 😣 yeah, but it was so worth it! loved working with the crew to take these breath-taking shots, i've never felt prettier 💌

→ user 01: oh. my. GOD??????? THE BODY

⎯→ user 02: seeing her without a 10lbs hoodie hiding her is so weird but SO GOOD

⎯→ user 03: literally thought this was an entirely different girl

→ user 03: i'm putting u in my heart locket

⎯→ user 04: literally going to print this out onto my wall

→ user 05: pepe is so so SO FUCKING lucky

→ pepemartiofficial: my beautiful girl 😘

Smut coming soon! So tired :”) I’m sorry! MWAH 🫶 Come back tomorrow !

[wafflefries13]

Asking Out the Twisted Wonderland Cast (Multi TWST cast X Reader)

Summary: Sometimes, you can't just wait for good things to happen to you. Time to screw your courage to the sticking place and finally ask out that boy you like!

AN: I meant for these each to be like 200 word drabbles. Some of them kind of got away from me, lol.

Cross-posted on my AO3 TheGhostInTheKitchen

Warnings: Fluff, AFAB reader with she/her pronouns.

Part 2: First Dates

The sounds of the NRC cafeteria clattered around the group of first years. Utensils scraping on plates, sizzling from the open window to the kitchen, a hundred different conversations from all sides. Their small group sat clustered around their table, nestled close together to be heard over the general din. 

“I’m just saying,” Ace said, mouth half full. 

“You’re always ‘just saying’,” Deuce said. 

Ace shoved him. “I’m just saying, if you want to try out for the anchor position on the track team you have to actually ask for it. Get Coach Vargas and don’t stop bugging him until he sees what you can do! No one’s going to just wait for it to happen.” 

“And I’m saying it doesn't do any good to be a nuisance when I don’t even know if I’m good enough yet. I might as well wait till tryouts next semester.” 

“No, no, he’s right,” (Y/N) said, distantly. 

“Yeah!” Ace said. “Wait, right about what?” 

“You can’t just wait for stuff to happen to you. If you really want something you have to go and take it for yourself.” She stood abruptly, face determined. “I need to ask something.” 

Ace:

“Ace!” 

Ace jumped, brushing off crumbs from his jacket. “What? What did I do now?” 

“Do you want to go out with me?” 

Epel choked, Jack thumping him on the back. Deuce looked like she had just insulted his mother. Sebek rolled his eyes as he took another bite. Ortho gasped, leaning forward, eyes wide and excited. 

“I-What?” Ace stuttered, his face rapidly turning red. “Where the heck did that come from?” 

“You were just saying you shouldn’t wait for something you want. I like you, I have for a while now. So, do you want to go out?” 

Ace stuttered out a reply, slapping on his normal cocky smile but decidedly not meeting (Y/N)’s eyes. “I mean, yeah, of course you fell for me! It’s about time you said something. But, um, yeah, I’d like that. A lot.” 

“Well,” Deuce said, rolling his eyes. “It’s about time one of you said something.” 

“Hey!” Ace shouted. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

(Y/N) playfully shoved him. “Oh, please, don’t act like I haven’t noticed that you like me too. You’re not subtle about it.” 

“What made you think that?” 

“Ace, within the first week of me being here you asked to sleep in the same bed as me twice.” 

From another table, definitely not eavesdropping, Riddle fainted. 

Deuce:

“Deuce!” Deuce jumped at (Y/N) suddenly shouting his name. “I need your help with something. Can you come with me for a second?” 

“Oh, yeah, sure, of course.” Deuce ignored Ace’s pointed look. Deuce followed (Y/N) out of the cafeteria down the halls. “Where are we going?” 

(Y/N) suddenly turned around, Deuce almost colliding with her. Before he could apologize, she took his hands, looking up into his eyes as he felt blood rush to his cheeks. 

“I just wanted somewhere more private,” She said. “Deuce, I really like you. Will you go out with me?” 

“I-huh?! I mean, yeah, yes! I like you, too!” He rubbed the back of his head and looked away shyly. “Man, I wanted to ask you out first.” 

(Y/N) grinned. “Really? How were you going to do it?” 

“Well, my mom said that when my dad first asked her out he got her this big bouquet of flowers. But he ended up being allergic to them so he kept sneezing the whole time. She took him to the infirmary at their school and he had to write it down since his face was too swollen to talk.” 

“Well, I wouldn’t say no to flowers. Maybe we can skip the rest of that, though.” 

Deuce marched over to the cut out window of the hallway, opening out onto the quad. Reaching over, he plucked a fluffy pink peony from one of the bushes. He came back to (Y/N), suddenly very flustered, and held it out to her. 

“(Y/N),” He began. 

She clasped her hands together. “Yes?” 

“Would you do me the honor of - Ah!” Deuce yelped as a bee flew out of the peony blossom, shooting for Deuce’s face to sting him. 

Turns out, they did spend time in the infirmary. But, after (Y/N) kissed his cheek and gently held the flower, Deuce didn’t seem to mind too much. 

Trey: 

“Ow!” 

Trey paused outside the Heartslabyul kitchen as he heard the exclamation from inside. He was planning on testing out a new bread recipe his parents had sent him and wasn’t expecting anyone else to be using the kitchen that day. He peaked in, seeing (Y/N), Grim, Ace, and Deuce crowded around the island in the middle. (Y/N) was blowing on a burn on her hand, Grim rifling through the pantry for various sweets, and Ace and Deuce waving away smoke from a burnt pastry freshly pulled from the oven. 

“I told you!” (Y/N) said. “You can’t just raise the temperature for it to cook faster, it’ll just burn!” 

“Well, sorry for trying to make your confession go faster before you chicken out,” Ace said. 

“I’m not going to chicken out! Probably. Maybe. What if the pie burning is an omen?” 

“I wouldn’t read too deeply into it,” Trey said, entering the kitchen. The first years jumped, (Y/N)’s eyes going wide and she stared at the floor. 

“Well!” Deuce said, grabbing Ace and Grim and hurrying them out the door. “Omen or not, that’s our cue to leave. Good luck, (Y/N)!” 

Silence echoed around the two of them as the door of the kitchen thunked closed. (Y/N) fiddled with her fingers, still not looking up. Trey walked around the island, looking at the smoldering pie. There was a mostly neat lattice across the bubbling fruit, with extra crust cut into letters around the rim. 

“‘Trey,’” He read. “‘Will you-’”

“Ah! No, wait!” (Y/N) jumped forward, covering it with her hands. She jumped back as her palm accidentally hit the hot pie tin, giving her another burn. 

“Oh, wait, hang on.” Trey quickly went over to the sink, grabbing a clean towel and soaking it in cold water. He gently took her hand, pressing it to the burn. (Y/N) chewed her lip. “You know, I’d be happy to help if you want to try again. I’ve been wanting to try this new butter pie crust that’s good with custards and-”

“I really like you!” (Y/N) blurted out, face going as hot as the burn on her hand. “Would you want to go out with me? Please?” 

Trey tightened his grip on her hand, careful to avoid the injury. He smiled, laughing. “I was wondering if I should say it first. I guess you beat me to it. Yes, (Y/N), I’d love to go out with you.”  

Cater: 

Cater was relaxing in the Heartslabyul gardens, a can of red paint discarded beside him. He hummed something the pop music club had been working on as he scrolled through Magicam. He took a quick selfie, winking, tongue out with a peace sign, before refreshing his feed. 

He paused when he saw (Y/N) come across his dash. She was smiling brightly, one arm arched above her head and the other held down at an angle to create half a heart. The word ‘Will’ was written in bubbly cartoon letters in the middle. A few posts later, there was a second photo, an almost perfect mirror of the first to complete the heart. The word ‘You’ was written in the middle of this one. 

Cater almost felt like he was solving a puzzle as he searched the rest of his feed for more posts. Each had (Y/N) in a dramatic pose, adding another word to complete the sentence, ‘Go,’ ‘Out,’ ‘With’, ‘Me.’ When he realized it was a request to ask someone out, he couldn’t help but feel a little deflated. He shook his head. Of course (Y/N) would be crushing on someone. With all the adventures she had gone on during their time at NRC, it would make sense to develop strong feelings. He tried to quiet the voice in his head that hoped those strong feelings would go his way. Well, whatever, that just meant he had to keep a close eye on whoever had earned her affections, maybe give them a good threatening to treat her right while he was at it. 

Cater tapped on her name, taking him to her Magicam profile. It felt like just the other day when he was helping her set it up. He sighed at the happy memory. For a second, it occurred to him that the message (Y/N) had been spelling out in pictures didn’t end with a question mark. He thought it was weird. Was it a mistake? Then his eye caught on the latest picture, posted just a second before. 

It was a selfie of (Y/N) holding a large bouquet of yellow and orange flowers, marigolds, daisies, and buttercups. The majority of the frame was over her shoulder, showing Cater himself sitting against the hedges. His name was drawn in the same cartoon font with a question mark, surrounded by a heart.  

Cater snapped up, whirling around. He quickly whipped away the happy tears budding at the corner of his eyes as he saw (Y/N) waiting for him. The flowers were crushed between them as he scooped her up in a tight hug, both of them laughing. 

(They both carefully rearranged the flowers after to be presentable for the mandatory #TogetherForever couple photoshoot after.) 

Riddle: 

Riddle frowned at the commotion building from the Heartslabyul common room. He could make out the familiar rising sounds of Ace and Deuce’s voices. He began marching to the source of the racket, faltering a little when he heard (Y/N)’s voice joining in. Mentally scolding himself from eavesdropping  (it wasn’t eavesdropping, he was keeping tabs on his dorm mates, that’s it) he hovered near the cracked open door. 

“No, wait!” (Y/N) said. “We can’t use coral roses! I said pink!” 

Ace huffed. “What’s the difference?” 

(Y/N) tapped a small dark red book she was holding. “Coral roses symbolize desire, pink roses mean admiration and happiness. I’m not trying to scare him off before I can even ask him out!” 

Before he could even think about it, Riddle threw open the door, shouting, “Just what is going on here?” 

Everyone inside jumped. Riddle swept his eyes across the room, taking in the bundles and bundles of roses in multiple colors carefully poised on every surface. Ace and Deuce were meticulously balancing a bouquet in the chandelier, plucking out the offending coral colored roses. Cater was smirking in the corner, phone poised to capture everything. Trey chuckled behind his own large bouquet of yellow roses.. 

“Um,” She said, startled by his interruption. Taking a deep breath, she set the book down and picked up a bouquet of lavender roses, shoving them in Riddle’s direction. 

‘Lavender,’ He thought. ‘Love at first sight.’ 

“Riddle!” She said, probably a little too loudly. “I really like you! Would you go out with me?” 

The silence that followed was deafening. Cater tried to break the tension with a laugh. “Aww, (Y/N),” He said. “What happened to that whole speech you had?” 

“He surprised me!” She said. “Oh, wait, hang on, I still have it.” Without thinking, she shoved the bouquet in Riddle’s arms, searching her pockets to pull out a neatly folded piece of notebook paper. “Ahem. Riddle, I have struggled in vain and I can bear it no longer. These past few months have been a torment. I came to Heartslabuyl with the single objective to see you. I-” 

“Everyone out!” Riddle shouted. As the group scuttled to the door, he pointed at (Y/N). “Not you.” 

The door thudded behind them, Ace and Deuce giving a quick thumbs up and what was supposed to be a confident smile as they left. (Y/N) crinkled the paper in her hands. 

“It gets better,” She said meekly. “The speech. Although I guess in the movie it ends with a rejection too. I should have used the one from the end, or Shakespeare maybe. Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more - well, I guess you're not very temperate. Wait, let me try again.” 

“(Y/N),” He said. He held the lavender flowers tightly. “You know what this means?” 

“Oh, the flowers? Yeah, I, um, I’ve been studying.” She picked the book back up, shyly holding it up. Riddle could read the title now: The Queen of Hearts Guide to Courtship and Love. 

“You,” Riddle said, feeling his face heat up. He held up the flowers. “You mean it? Really?” 

(Y/N) took a step towards him, understanding softening the worry on her face. “Of course. I wanted to ask you out and I thought, well,” She waved at the multicolored roses, laughing. “Go big or go home, right?” 

“It certainly is a statement.” Riddle picked up a yellow rose with red tipping the petals and handed it to her. (Y/N) recognized the colors immediately as meaning ‘Falling in love.’ She gasped in happiness, jumping forward to wrap Riddle in a tight hug. 

Leona: 

“Ruggie!” Ruggie paused as he heard (Y/N) call his name. She jogged over to him where he held Leona’s typical boxed lunch order. “Hey, that’s for Leona, right? Do you mind if I bring it to him? There’s something important I have to talk to him about.” Ruggie considered it for a moment before shrugging and handing it over, but not before stealing a couple of chips to pop into his mouth as he strolled away. 

(Y/N) found Leona in his normal spot, a hidden alcove in the gardens in the biodome. He was laying on his back, arms crossed behind his head, and eyes closed as he dozed. He cracked his eye open as (Y/N) approached. 

“Hi,” She said, kneeling down beside him. 

“Hmm,” He replied. 

“I have something important to ask you.” 

“Are you going to try and make me get up?” “No.” 

“Alright, ask away.” 

“Will you go out with me?” 

Leona’s eyes snapped open. He pushed himself up on his elbows to stare at (Y/N), smiling sincerely at him, and maybe holding his lunch hostage until she got an answer. 

“I really like you,” She continued. “You’re brave and confident and know exactly who you are. Sure, you can be stubborn as hell, but you also really care about people close to you. Don’t make that face, you can’t fool me. You could have easily thrown me out when Grim and I needed someplace to stay when Azul took over Ramshackle, but you didn’t. You didn’t even kick us out when we were making so much noise and annoying you, you helped us break Azul’s contracts instead. You joined the Culinary Crucible because Epel did and you wanted to keep an eye on your team mate. Please, as if you ever need to learn how to cook, I know you can’t even use a microwave. And you pretend not to notice when Ruggie steals your credit card. And there was that time you followed all of us to Playful Land because you were worried we were going to get scammed. You didn’t have to do that, but you did. You’ve got a big heart of gold under that spiky exterior. And I really admire you for that. I… I really love you, Leona.” 

“Well,” Leona said, laying back down, tail flicking. “I suppose going on a date wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.” (Y/N) decided not to point out the content smile stretching across his face. She made a move to stand up, but Leona shot an arm out to hook around her waist, pulling her down next to him with an “Oof.” “Now don’t tell anyone else about all that,” Leona grumbled without any real heat. 

Ruggie: 

Ruggie was in Leona’s room, folding laundry while the house warden took a nap behind him. Ruggie stretched his arms above his head, sighing when there was a satisfying pop in his back. Suddenly, the door to the room slammed open. Ruggie yelped and Leona woke with an undignified snort. 

“Gah, what now?” Leona mumbled. 

“Ruggie!” (Y/N) said, standing in the doorway. She was panting as if she had just run across campus (she had). 

“Uh, what? Yeah? Whatever it was, I didn’t take it!” 

Unperturbed, (Y/N) marched over to him, taking both his hands in hers. “You did take something.” Ruggie frantically tried to remember if he had stolen anything from Ramshackle recently. He tried not to, knowing (Y/N) was pretty much as broke as he was. It didn’t seem fair. And maybe he liked her a little too much to swipe something. “You stole my heart!” (Y/N) continued dramatically. “Will you go out with me?” 

Behind them, Leona coughed to unconvincingly cover up a laugh. 

Ruggie’s ears flattened to his head in shock. He reached back and batted at his tail as if that would get it to stop wagging. “I - what? Are you sure? Me? What?” 

“Of course! You’re resourceful, you work hard, you’re clever, and you care a lot about your family back home. I really admire all that about you and more! Not to mention you’re super cute. So, will you go out with me?” 

“Oh, just say yes already, Ruggie,” Leona said, settling down to continue his nap. “At least then I won’t have to hear you being such a sap all the time.” 

Ruggie let out his signature laugh. He tightened his grip on (Y/N)’s hands. “Well, sure then, why not? As long as you’re paying, right?” 

Jack: 

Jack and Vil were out on their daily morning run. The sun was just beginning to rise over the horizon, casting the Night Raven College campus in a warm golden light. At their halfway point, they took a break, Vil stretching in his cooldown. 

“You sure you don’t want to keep going with me?” Jack asked. 

“No,” Vil said. “I’d rather stay slim than bulk up like you. I have my status to maintain. And besides, it looks like I would be interrupting something rather important.” He smiled knowingly and pointed with his chin a little ways down the sidewalk. 

Jack turned. He felt his tail start to wag on its own when he saw (Y/N) standing by one of the Great Seven statues, drawing circles in the ground with her foot. She looked up, breaking out in a warm smile when she saw him. Vil chuckled under his breath and waved as he headed back to Pomfiore. 

Jack clenched his jaw, willing his tail to stay still as he approached her. “Good morning. You’re not usually up this early, right? Is everything okay?” 

(Y/N) jutted her arms out completely straight, offering up the flowering Chin cactus in her hands. “Jack!” She said. “I really like you. I love how brave you are. I love how you’re dedicated to the people you care about. I love how you can be sweet and kind even when you try to act tough all the time. Would you go out with me?” 

“Yes!” Jack replied, almost before the words had even left (Y/N)’s mouth. He put his hands over hers, cradling the cactus. “I mean, yes, I would like to go out with you. Very much.” 

Azul: 

Azul jumped as (Y/N) slammed her hands on his desk in the VIP room of the Monstro Lounge. He quickly gathered his composer, pushing his glasses back up his nose. “Well, Prefect, to what do I owe the pleasure?” 

“I have a deal for you,” She said confidently. 

“Oh? I’d love to hear it.” 

Smiling, she whipped out a sheet of paper and slapped it on top of the other documents Azul had spread over his desk. On the top of the page in an elegant script were the words ‘Contract of First Date.’ Azul felt a lump form in his throat as his heart sped up. He quickly scanned over the rest of the ‘contract,’ outlining the proposed date. 

“Terms of the deal,” (Y/N) continued. “You, me, romantic night out. I know a guy in Craneport who said we could use one of their rowboats and I found this really cool pond with all these willow trees and fireflies. Plus I have this cute picnic basket all set up. Jamil has been teaching me how to cook, you know? Can’t say it’ll be as good as his, if we’re being honest about the terms of agreement. And the contract leaves an opening for future dates depending on the success of this one! Of course, success is not really a super definable term but you get what I mean. So, do we have a deal?” 

Azul covered his face with one hand, trying desperately to ignore how red his face must be at this point. He couldn’t seem to meet her enthusiastic and twinkling eyes. 

“I, uh,” (Y/N) continued, shyer this time as Azul scanned over the contract. “I really like you, Azul. A lot. So, will you go out with me?” 

He looked back down at the contract where her name was written in elegant script at the bottom with space for his next to it. He cleared his throat, bringing back his practiced (definitely not shady) businessman smile. With a sweep of his pen, he said, “It’s a deal.” 

Jade: 

(Y/N) marched across the cafeteria, determination in her eyes. She stopped in front of a table with Jade, Floyd, and Azul. “Hi!” She said, maybe a little too loudly with nerves. Jade and Azul looked up from their conversation, Floyd pausing his efforts in making a castle out of mashed potatoes. “Jade, I really like you. Do you want to go out with me?” 

“Oh?” Jade said, a brief moment of genuine surprise crossing his face before he schooled his features back into pleasant neutrality. “Well, what a pleasant surprise.” 

Floyd snorted and elbowed his brother. “Shrimpy’s got a crush,” He said in a sing-song voice. 

“I must admit,” Jade said, pouting with one hand on his cheek. “I always did imagine a more theatrical confession. Nonetheless, I happily acc-” 

“I can do that!” (Y/N) interrupted. Holding on to Floyd’s shoulder for balance, she climbed on top of the table. She clapped her hands loudly, shouting, “Attention! Attention, please, everyone! I have an announcement!” She cleared her throat as the room fell silent. “I would like to declare my unequivocal, utter devotion and love for Jade Leech.” She heard a choking sound below her but continued on. “I am hopelessly in love, helplessly enraptured, and absolutely head over heels. And it is my deepest hope that he could return my affections. Thank you.” With that, she hopped down, beaming. There was a smattering of applause and laughter from around the room. Epel whooped from back at the first year table. 

Jade’s hands covered his blushing face, fierce sharp eyes peeking out between his fingers. His mouth was split in a wide smile, sharp teeth glinting in a mixture of bashfulness, excitement, and desire. 

“Congratulations, (Y/N),” Azul said. “I can barely remember that last time Jade was actually flustered.” 

“Aww, look at him, he’s speechless!” Floyd teased. 

(Y/N) winced. “Sorry, was that too far?” 

Jade shot out with lightning speed, crushing her in his tight eel grip. “I should let you know,” He whispered to her. “I expect this level of dedication for the entirety of our relationship.” 

Floyd: 

Floyd darted through the stacks of the library. He could have sworn he saw Goldfish in here earlier, and he was in the mood to mess with the easily angered boy. And, while he didn’t find Riddle, he did pause as he saw (Y/N) between the books. He paused, pushing a few books aside to rest his chin on the shelf, an easy smile crossing his face as he spied on her. 

She was hunched over one of the study tables, a large book propped up and open in front of her. She was diligently working on something in her hands, tongue poking out between her lips (lips that Floyd found himself thinking about more often than he would admit), looking back up at the book in front of her every so often. 

Dropping down low, Floyd carefully made his way behind her, silent on his feet. Rising up to his full height behind her, unsuspecting, he jolted forward, wrapping her in a backward hug and pulling her back so the chair careened back on two legs. 

“Shrimpy!” He said, taking delight in her startled squeal. “Whatcha doin’?” 

“God, Floyd,” (Y/N) said, putting a hand to her chest to calm her raging heart. Her eyes suddenly went wide and she lunged forward to cover what she was working on with her arms. “Ah! Don’t look, don’t look! It’s not done!” 

Floyd grinned again. “Aww, it’s not nice to keep secrets.” His hands shot out, pulling out the thing she was hiding. (Y/N) covered her face as Floyd inspected the object. It was a thick piece of twine, various polished shells, sea glass, and dried shiny scales strung throughout. Although it wasn’t exactly neat, the way it caught the sunlight cast tiny rainbows and simmers around the library. Floyd peered at the open book. It was a cultural history of merpeople in the Coral Sea. The opened chapter described mer courting rituals and marriage traditions. Floyd started cackling as (Y/N) buried her face further in her hands.  

“How old is this thing?” Floyd asked, poking at the book. “I don’t even think my grandparents made courting charms.” 

“Shut up,” (Y/N) mumbled. “I was trying to… Forget it.” 

Floyd slipped the haphazard necklace over his neck, prying her hands away to hold them tightly in his. “I accept!” He said brightly. “This was for me, right? It better be, Shrimpy.” 

She smiled and flicked his forehead. “Possibly against my better judgment, I wouldn’t want to be with anyone else, Floyd.” 

Kalim: 

Kalim knew he should probably be studying, but every time he opened a text book or looked at the notes Jamil had oh-so-carefully marked and tabbed for him, he felt his eyes start to droop and mind get fuzzy. A good after lunch walk was just what he needed, and he definitely wasn’t just saying that to put off work. 

He stopped when he realized he had wandered outside Ramshackle dorm. Was that on purpose? Did he subconsciously come here, with the hope he might see (Y/N)? Kalim walked up to the front door, knocking before opening the door and calling inside. 

“Hello! It’s Kalim! Can I come in?” 

There was a squawk of surprise from the front sitting room. (Y/N) poked her head around the corner, flustered. 

“Hi. Sure, come on in. Uh, sorry, I’m kind of in the middle of something.” 

“Can I help?” Kalim asked, walking over to her. Peering into the sitting room, Kalim’s face lit up. Every available surface, and a few unavailable surfaces, were covered in colored and patterned paper. There were stacks and crowds of tiny paper birds littered between everything. 

“I don’t know if it counts if more people make them.” 

Kalim sat on one of the plush chairs, picking up a flowery piece of paper. “If what will count?” 

“It’s an old superstition from my world. If you can fold 1000 paper cranes, your wish will come true. Or something like that.” 

“Ooh, origami! I’ve made decorations using that before! I’m not super good at it, but I’ll help if you want.” 

(Y/N) smiled and sat next to him and Kalim felt his heart flip. “Yeah, I’d like the company.” 

They lost track of time folding cranes, the sun beginning to set high above the dilapidated house. They talked the whole time, jumping from topic to topic, joke to joke, without any real sense of flow. It was warm, there in the small room, not only due to the crackling fireplace. 

“So,” Kalim asked eventually. “What wish were you wanting to make? If this dosen’t work out, I can help you with it!” 

(Y/N) suddenly went bashful, turning away to pay extra attention to the folds of her bird. “I…” She muttered. She took a deep breath, turning to fully face Kalim. “I was going to ask you out. You have all these elaborate decorations and parties all the time. I was going to string all of these together and hang them in your room then ask you out. But, now that you’re here… Kalim, would you go out with me?” 

Kalim dropped the paper crane, flinging himself across the couch to wrap her in a tight hug. “Yes! Yes, yes yes! Oh, I would love to! Huh, I guess that means I need to cancel that order of doves now. That’s how I was going to ask you out next week. Hey, we both thought of birds! That must mean we definitely belong together, right?” 

Jamil: 

“Be right back,” (Y/N) said, standing from the first year cafeteria table. She walked across the cafeteria until she stopped in front of Kalim and Jamil. 

Jamil was shoving a napkin at Kalim. “Careful, you’re going to get sauce all over your shirt.” 

“It’s fine, I’ll be careful! And besides, it’s a pretty color, right? Oh, hey, (Y/N)!” 

“Hi,” She said, looking solely at Jamil. “Jamil, I really like you. Would you want to go out with me?” 

Kalim gasped, hands to his cheeks as he looked excitedly from Jamil to (Y/N). Jamil sucked in a sharp breath, clenching his hands. “I…” He started. “I’m sorry, (Y/N). I can’t.” 

“Oh.” Jamil looked down, but not before he caught the hurt confusion on (Y/N) face. “That’s okay. Thanks for hearing me out. Bye, guys.” She walked back to her table. 

Jamil only looked up again when Kalim slapped his arm. “Jamil! That was your chance!” 

Jamil scowled. “There is no chance. I said no, she accepted it. Drop it.” 

“But you told me you liked her!” 

“I said no such thing.” 

Kalim waved his hand dismissively. “I read between the lines.” 

“There were no lines!” 

“Jamil.” He looked up at Kalim. It wasn’t often the other boy used such a serious voice, or had such a set expression on his face. “You can’t keep doing this. You can’t keep yourself from being happy because you feel like you don’t deserve it.” 

Jamil flinched back, standing suddenly. A million retorts zipped through this mind at once, all of them falling flat and dying on his tongue. Before he could say something he would regret, heart thundering in his ears, he fled the cafeteria, ignoring the stabbing looks from the first year table as (Y/N)’s friends gave her sympathetic pats on the back. 

Jamil couldn’t sleep. He tossed and turned in his bed, listening to the soft, even breathing of his roommate. Huffing in annoyance, he threw off the covers and left his room. He thought he would just take a walk, just get some fresh air. Without paying attention, Jamil’s feet took him out of Scarabia, across campus, and, before he knew it, in front of Ramshackle dorm. His fist hovered in front of the door, internally debating whether or not he should knock. He startled when he heard talking behind him, spotting (Y/N) and Malleus making their way up the pathway. 

(Y/N) stopped when she saw him. “Oh. Hi, Jamil.” 

“Hi,” Jamil said, limply lifting a hand in greeting. 

Malleus looked down at Jamil, glaring. “Viper.” It sounded more like an insult than his name. 

“Did you need something?” (Y/N) asked. “It’s kind of late. Is everything okay?” 

“I-” Jamil started. “I need to talk to you.” 

Malleus stepped in front of (Y/N), but stopped when (Y/N) put a hand on his arm. They had a quick and quiet conversation, Malleus nodded and walked away. (Y/N) came up to the front door, opening it for him. 

“I’ll make some tea,” She said as they stepped into the entryway. 

“Wait-” Jamil said, catching her hand. Everything tumbled out of him all at once. “I wanted to go out with you. I like you, so much so that it scares me sometimes. That’s why I said no earlier. I just think - I thought you would - should - do better than me, after everything that’s happened. But I -” He paused, only realizing now how out of breath he was. (Y/N) looked up at him and he felt breathless all over again. “I want to do better. I want to be better, for you if not for anything else. I know I probably don’t deserve it but, (Y/N), will you go out with me?” 

(Y/N) laughed, wiping away tears at the corners of her eyes with the heel of her hand. “Yes, I’d like that a lot.” 

Vil: 

Something was wrong, Vil could feel it. After all the chaos of his time at Night Raven College, he had almost developed a sixth sense for this type of thing. 

Vil narrowed his eyes, sweeping them over the Pomfiore sitting room. A group of students were sitting around one of the tables, studying. A few others were in front of the fireplace. A couple others were performing some viral dance for a Magicam reel. Nothing seemed amiss here. 

Vil walked down the hall of the dorm, heels clicking against the marble floor. With a missed step, Vil realized he hadn’t seen Epel or Rook in quite some time. That was… concerning. He quickened his walk. 

Vil almost gave himself whiplash as he passed by the ballroom. The door was cracked open ever so slightly so he could peer through. He felt slightly ridiculous, eavesdropping as if he wasn’t the caretaker for the dorm and all those in it. But his thoughts faltered as he observed the scene inside. He found Epel and Rook, as well as several other Pomfiore students, constructing elaborate sets out of painted cardboard and repurposed decorations from the dorm. Was that…? Something about this all seemed eerily familiar. 

“Wait, wait! You’re early!” (Y/N) said. She appeared in front of him, waving her hands to try and block his view. She grabbed his hand, tugging him out of the room. “Don’t look!” She pushed him back into the hall, disappearing back into the ballroom. A second later, she emerged with a chair, setting it down and waving to it. “Just another few minutes.” The door clicked closed behind her before Vil could say anything. He thought about barging in, demanding an explanation. But his curiosity got the better of him. And besides, he always loved to see what (Y/N) got up to. Huffing in amusement, he sat down, crossing his legs at the ankles. 

A while later, Epel, Rook, and the other students fled the ballroom, giving Vil knowing looks as they passed. With skepticism, Vil stood up and made his way inside. Standing in the doorway, he was suddenly hit with a wave of nostalgia. Taking a better look, he recognized the replica set. It was from one of his first ever movies, a children’s adventure called The Heist of the Everlasting Rose. This particular scene was set in a museum where the Everlasting Rose was kept. It had been a supporting role, where, ironically, he had played a child actor in part of a crew to steal the titular Rose to pay for the main character’s sister’s surgery, or some other such justifiable nonsense like that. It was his first big screen production, although it was a relatively low-budget and minor movie. He remembered after the film had come out he and his father would pour over reviews praising his performance. At that moment, he felt like he was on top of the world. 

Vil was brought out of his reminiscing by (Y/N)’s voice. “Hello, sir!” She said. She had put on a tour guide’s jacket, once again modeled after the one in the film. “Welcome to the museum! We have our prized exhibit right this way.” Vil smirked, humoring her, if nothing else than to see where this was all going. Linking their arms, (Y/N) brought him through the makeshift museum. “Legend has it that this rose was given by a cursed prince to his beloved, who saved him from the brink of death with its magical powers. Since then, it has been a symbol of pure and everlasting love.” She carefully lifted the cloche from the silk flower, tiny fairy lights arranged around the base. She held it out to him, one hand dramatically pressed to her chest. “And now, I’d like to give it to you, Vil, to profess my everlasting love. Would you go out with me?” 

Vil couldn’t help it, it was all too much. The extravagant set, (Y/N) memorizing specific passages from such an old and now obscure film, the entire production. He burst out laughing, pressing the back of his hand against his mouth, eyes closed. “Well,” He said, catching his breath. “After such a wonderful effort, how could I possibly say no? Yes, my dearest (Y/N), I would love nothing more than to be with you.” 

Rook: 

“(Y/N), you’re gonna shoot your eye out.” 

“No, it’ll be fine. You have to take risks for the sake of love.” 

“Oh, Seven, we don’t need two of you.” 

Rook’s ears picked up, hearing Epel and (Y/N) talking in the back gardens of the Pomefiore dorm. Smiling, he crept around to (definitely not) spy on them. (Y/N) was struggling with a large bow, an arrow flopping around as she tried to aim it. Pomfiore had a small target practice area set up in the back of the dorm. (Y/N) was trying, emphasis on trying, to shoot arrows at one of the red and white round targets. After her latest arrow struck the ground in front of the target, Epel sighed and walked to the target, collecting other fallen arrows. He stabbed them into the target in the shape of a heart, a letter with Rook’s name pinned to the bullseye. 

“Don’t say I never did anything for you,” Epel said. 

“Oh? And what favor are you performing, Monsieur Pommette?” Both of them jumped, Rook smiling wider at the surprised squeak (Y/N) made. 

“You’re on your own, (Y/N)!” Epel said before rushing off. 

(Y/N) huffed. “Traitor,” She said under her breath. She turned to Rook. “Hi.” 

“Bonjour, Trickster.” 

“You’re, uh, early. I thought you were going to be at your club for a while longer.” 

Rook waved a hand. “There was an unexpected explosion and we had to evacuate. But I am much more interested in what you’re up to here.” 

“Ah, well…” She trailed off, limply pointing to the letter stabbed in the target. She covered her face with her hands, heat rushing to her cheeks as Rook elegantly plucked the letter up and began reading. 

(Y/N) could basically see the hearts forming in his eyes as he finished reading her confession. He dramatically clutched the love letter to his chest, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead. “Oh, mon amour le plus cher! Comme c’est merveilleux de lire vos sentiments les plus caret! Je n’ai jamais vu quelque chose d’aussi beau!” 

“So,” (Y/N) asked nervously. “Is that a yes?” 

“Oui, oui! One thousand times oui!” He cheered as he gathered her in a swinging hug. 

Epel: 

Epel found the first note the day after (Y/N)’s announcement in the cafeteria. Whatever she had wanted to do was apparently pretty important, as she had grabbed Grim and they left immediately. Epel hadn’t seen her the rest of the day, but he would recognize that handwriting on the paper wrapped around his dorm room handle anywhere. 

He looked around to make sure no one was watching before unfolding the paper and reading. ‘Epel, I have something important I need to ask, but before that I have a simple task. Take this first note of the set and go to the place we first met. Love, (Y/N).’ Epel tried not to think too much about that ‘Love’ part. Where did he and (Y/N) first meet? At this point it almost felt like they had known eachother forever. 

Would that be, maybe, the well in the quad? Epel remembered meeting her, Ace, Deuce, and Grim there when he was rehearsing singing, using the well’s acoustics. But, no, they had seen each other somewhere else first. Epel blushed in embarrassment at the memory. He had been crying, frustrated to hell and back with Vil’s lectures right after coming back from winter break. He’d run into them at the Great Seven statues. 

Epel went to the statues, deciding if he didn’t find anything there he would try the well. But, lo and behold, another note was waiting at the base of the Fairest Queen’s statue. He read, ‘Epel, Congrats on finding your second clue! By now you have an idea of what to do. For the next place I want you to go, think of the place we lived side by side before the show. Love, (Y/N).’ 

That one was easy, Ramshackle dorm. As Epel sprinted across campus, both notes held tightly in his fist, he reminisced about spending his days training for the VDC in Ramshackle. Most of the time there seemed like torture, running endless dancing drills, feeling constricted by Vil’s lessons whose purpose he still didn’t fully understand at the time, worrying about the whole dorm falling down around his ears at any moment. But there were plenty of good moments too. (Y/N) making them - Vil approved - breakfast in the morning, her encouragement at each of their rehearsals, how she would slip them treats when Vil and Rook’s backs were turned to help boost their mood. 

Sure enough, Epel found his next note on the Ramshackle front gate. There was another rhyme instructing him to go to another location, also connected to his and (Y/N)’s relationship and past. That lead to another and to another and another, each unlocking a precious memory between the two. Eventually, he unfolded the final note, the sun just starting to set, casting NRC in beautiful golden light. ‘Epel, I hope by now you get to see exactly how much you mean to me. We’ve been through a lot and I’ve enjoyed every and I’ve enjoyed every second, and… Okay, I can’t come up with any more rhymes. Just turn around!’ 

Lowering the paper, Epel turned, opening his arms just in time to catch (Y/N) in a big hug. They spun around each other for a second with the momentum, finally coming to a stop and looking to each other's eyes. 

“Hi,” (Y/N) said. “Did you like my scavenger hunt?” 

“You’re bad at rhyming,” Epel said with a crooked smile. 

She wacked his shoulder. “Hey, I meant what I wrote, though. I really like you, Epel. Would you go out with me?” 

Epel squeaked her tight. “Only if you promise not to write any more poetry.” 

Idia: 

Idia was holding out in his room, huddled under a blanket, his phone clutched tight in his hand. He was watching a live stream from his favorite idol group, Premo. He smiled as the group answered fan questions, talked about their upcoming tour, and demonstrated how to perform some of their most famous dance moves. 

The viewer chat scrolled across the side of the screen. Donations and chat reactions popped up in various animations across the screen. Idia hit the donate button, sending a flurry of roses blooming along the edges of the screen. He smiled as the idols thanked Gloomurai for his support. 

One of the idols leaned over, checking the chat feed. She gasped, flapping a hand at the others and enthusiastically pointing at what she was reading. They all started smiling and giggling, whispering to each other. Idia shuffled closer, as if that would let him read whatever message they had gotten. 

“Hey, everyone!” One of them said. “We’ve got a super special shout-out! This is from (Username) to… Gloomurai!” 

Idia’s heart raced as he sat up in bed, blanket draped over him. (Username), (Username)... Wait, he recognized that. That was your username! He had helped you set up your account to the MMO he played a while ago. He remembered helping you through the intro stages, stumbling over the tutorials. He had laughed at your frustrated frown as you died on the same boss for the third time. 

“Aww,” The second idol said. “This is sweet. It says, ‘Gloomurai, I thought about telling you this in person, but I wasn’t sure when that would actually be. And sometimes big feelings require big gestures. I like you, I really, really like you. I think I have for a long time. I love your smile, I love your hair, I love your brain, I love that you’re such an amazing big brother. Will you go out with me?’ Well, Gloomurai? Tell us your answer! We’re waiting on pins and needles here!” 

“Oh, wait,” The third idol said. “There’s more. It says, ‘PS, check your door.’” 

Idia yelped as he shot up, the blanket falling to a heap on the floor. Heart thundering in his chest and head starting to go fuzzy. He almost felt like he was in a daze as he walked with trepidation to his door. Slowly opening it, Idia saw a basket placed just in front. It was filled with his favorite snacks, small acrylic standees of characters from his favorite games and anime, and studded with bluebells, irises, and blue asters. A large paper heart was pinned to the front with her and his initials drawn in the middle. Hair flaring pink, he quickly brought the basket back into his room before any of his dorm mates would notice. 

He heard commotion from his phone, Premo and the chat all eagerly awaiting his response. He sent in another donation with a simple, “Yes.” The idols cheered and squealed. 

He swiped out of the livestream, opening his messaging app. (Y/N)’s name popped up with a new message, a cheering emoticon with three blue hearts. 

He subconsciously covered his face as he smiled wide, typing back, “You’re so cringe. Can’t wait for the date.” 

Silver: 

(Y/N) sprinted across campus, heading whipping around to try and catch a familiar shimmer of silver white hair. She skidded to a stop when she saw a black Diasamonia coat draped over a low tree branch, a pair of shined boots sticking out behind the trunk. 

(Y/N) rounded the old oak tree. “Silv-! Oh, sorry.” 

Silver was reclining against the tree, hands folded across his stomach, chest rising and falling with deep even breaths, eyes closed and lips slightly parted as he slept. A few songbirds and a pair of squirrels congregated around him, looking up with big eyes at the newcomer. 

(Y/N) shifted her weight from foot to foot before screwing up her courage and sitting down next to Silver. She shuffled down so she laid next to him, still leaving enough room to not cause too much of a scandal if anyone walked by. She settled down, closing her eyes and relaxing, taking in the sounds of the woodland animals around them, the talking of other students in the distance, the wind whispering through the trees. 

A short while later, she heard stirring next to her. (Y/N) blinked awake quickly, propping herself up and leaning back on her hands as Silver woke up beside her. 

“Hi,” She said. “Would  you want to go out with me?” 

Silver blinked the sleep out of his eyes, looking up at her. “I must still be dreaming,” He muttered. “If I am, then…” He reached forward, cupping the back of her head and pulling her down. She gasped as their lips brushed. Silver’s eyes suddenly shot open and he jerked back from her as if burned. “I- uh-” He studded, pale skin turning a ruby red. 

(Y/N) giggled at his embarrassment. “Well, I guess that’s a yes, right?” 

Sebek: 

“Be right back!” (Y/N) said as she suddenly stood from the first year cafeteria table. Before anyone had a chance to say anything, she was off like a shot. 

“Any idea what that was about?” Epel asked. The others shrugged. 

Grim reached over to snag half (Y/N)’s sandwich from her discarded tray. “Probably going to go ask out that boy she keeps talking about,” He said nonchalantly, mouth full. 

Sebek choked, standing fast and slamming his hands on the table so all their plates and cutlery clattered. “What!” 

“Chill, man,” Ace said, waving him down as people across the cafeteria turned to stare. Ace smirked. “Unless you’re particularly invested in (Y/N)’s love life?” 

Sebek blushed and slammed back into his seat. He picked his knife and fork back up and started sawing at his Salisbury steak. “No,” He snapped. “(Y/N) can do whatever she wants. What do I care?” 

“Sure,” Epel said. 

(Y/N) reappeared in the cafeteria a short while later, Malleus in tow. She was talking with him, gesturing with her hands. Malleus had a wide, amused smile, nodding along. 

Sebek stood again, at attention for his prince. “Good afternoon, Lord Malleus!” He said. “To what do we owe the pleasure of your presence?” He scowled at the other first years rolling their eyes at his formality. 

“Hello, Sebek. I’ve come to give my blessing.” 

“Blessing?” 

“Sebek!” (Y/N) said brightly. She took both his hands in hers as he sputtered and blushed. “I really like you. Would you go out with me?” 

For once, Sebek was speechless, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. (Y/N) squeezed his hands tighter as Malleus chuckled next to them. “Well, Sebek? It’s not polite to keep a lady waiting.” 

Life seized back into the knight. He tightened his grasp on (Y/N), pulling her closer. “Yes! Absolutely! I mean, ahem, I accept your offer of courting, since you went so far to get my lord’s blessing, after all.” 

Lilia: 

Lilia wouldn’t call what he was doing skulking, exactly. More like surprise chaperoning, keeping an eye on the youngsters of Night Raven College like a good upperclassman should. And, if he just so happened to pop out and scare the living daylights out of whatever unfortunate student happened to be nearby, well, more fun for him. 

So it wasn’t especially surprising when he heard Silver and (Y/N) talking to each other in the courtyard. As a sly smile stretched across his face, he floated to a hiding place in the shadows of the flying buttresses, resting on his stomach to kick his feet, chin resting in his hands, as he observed the two. 

“You want my permission?” Silver asked, an amused smile on his face. 

“Of course!” (Y/N) replied. “I wouldn’t want to make it weird by dating him while we’re all still students together.” 

Lilia faltered. That was the problem with spying, sometimes you heard things you didn’t want to. So the Prefect was romantically interested in someone, eh? And if they were asking Silver for permission, it must be someone close to him. Sebek, maybe? Or, oh dear, Malleus? Lilia knew for a fact that both of the boys thought of (Y/N) as a close and dear friend and nothing more. His heart panged in sympathy at the idea of rejection. And, if he was being honest with himself, it panged with something else as well. 

“You don’t think he’s a little old for you?” Silver asked teasingly. 

“Maybe I like a silver fox,” (Y/N) teased right back. 

Silver laughed. “I don’t think I ever want to hear my father described as a silver fox ever again.” 

Lilia lost his concentration, falling with a yelp against one of the chandeliers hanging in the hallway. 

“Lilia?” (Y/N) asked with a gasp. 

Lilia smiled, trying to regain poise as he floated down to them. “Looks like I’m not as slick as I used to be. Now, what were you two discussing just now?” 

(Y/N) look startled. Silver gave her shoulder a reassuring pat and left with a wave. Just the two of them now, (Y/N) took a deep breath, building up her courage. 

“Lilia!” She said, probably a little too loudly with nerves. “I really like you! Would you go out with me?” 

Lilia chuckled, leaning close to enjoy the shy and flustered look on her face. “Well, if you have my son’s blessing, how am I to refuse? Besides, I think I rather like being called a, what was it you said? A silver fox?” 

Malleus: 

Malleus looked up from his book, looking around his room for the source of the noise that disturbed his studying. There, another sharp ‘ping’ from across the room. He looked to the window, noticing a small pebble hitting the glass. He walked over and opened the window, dodging just in time to miss another pebble. 

“Oops! Sorry, Horton!” He looked down, a smile automatically crossing his face at (Y/N)’s voice. But his expression quickly changed to puzzlement as he looked down at her. (Y/N) was standing in the courtyard of the Diasomonia dorm, inside a giant heart made of dozens of tiny tea candles. 

In a swirl of green light, Malleus appeared next to her on the ground floor. She jumped a little bit at his sudden appearance, but quickly recovered herself and beamed up at him. He felt his heart flip in that pleasant way it always did when he was near her. 

“What’s all this?” 

She cleared her throat dramatically, dropping to one knee. “Dearest Horton, you have bewitched me body and soul. I would like to officially court you. Would you do me the absolute pleasure of accompanying me on a date this weekend?” 

Malleus blinked down at her for a moment, basking in the admiration and adoration filling her eyes. He laughed, reaching down to take her hand and pull her to standing. “My, how formal,” He said. 

She smiled, shrugging. “I wanted it to be memorable. Couldn’t manage the fireworks, though. Sorry.” 

“I can rectify that.” With an elegant sweep of his hand, sparks erupted from Malleus’s fingertips, shooting into the dark sky around the dorm to explode in fantastic colors. Students from in the dorm leaned out windows to admire the impromptu show. 

Malleus drew (Y/N) closer to him, admiring the multicolor flashes playing across her face. “I would adore being anywhere with you.”

[woso-dreamzzz]

Second Time's The Charm: Christmas

Alexia Putellas x Reader

Summary: Christmas in the STTC Universe

"Alexia!" Mapi shrieks," Alexia! Stop ignoring me! Alexia!"

Alexia hums to herself, hunched over her phone as she scrolls through another website.

Mapi, however, forces her way through mountains and mountains of stacked boxes to get to the other side of the room.

The locker room is covered in boxes from top to bottom with some even crammed into areas that they really shouldn't be able to be forced into.

"Ale! Alexia!"

Alexia looks up in shock. "Oh! Mapi! When did you get here?"

"About ten minutes ago! Which you would know if you didn't have this place stocked up like the back room of a shoe shop!"

Alexia frowns. "What do you mean? There's only five boxes of shoes here."

"I wasn't being literal!" Mapi snaps before massaging her temples with her hands. "What is all this stuff?! And why is it here?!"

"They're presents," Alexia says it like Mapi's dumb," For Christmas."

"Obviously but why are they here?"

"Well, I couldn't leave them at home. Maya's in that exploring stage so she'd get curious and try to look through them. And Elena's learning to crawl and this stuff would just get in way."

"So you thought that you would put all the presents for your whole family in here? With us?"

"No," Alexia scoffs," Don't be silly, Mapi."

"This is only temporary then? Thank god because I-"

"This is only Maya's gifts. Elena's are in one of the meeting rooms and y/n's are hidden at Alba's...Mapi? Are you okay? Your face is turning an odd colour."

Mapi's dramatic walk off is hindered somewhat by smacking her nose straight into a pile of boxes and nearly falling back into another one but, eventually, she manages to storm out and straight upstairs to your office.

You're sitting in your desk chair, looking through player health files or something when the door is slammed open.

"Your wife is crazy!"

"And hello to you too, Mapi. Come on in!"

"Crazy!" Mapi repeats, pacing in short, aggravated circles," She's crazy! The locker room is covered! Covered! In Christmas presents for your daughter! You have to get her to stop!"

You don't have a time to reply because the door swings open again and Alexia bursts in.

"Amor!" She cries," I found the cutest little booties for Elena! Look! Look!"

"No..." Mapi says softly," No...This-This can't be happening..."

"They're so cute!" You tell Alexia with equal enthusiasm," She'll love them so much! Order them! Order them!"

Alexia types in the delivery address and her card details and orders it happily before looking up.

"Where did Mapi go?"

It's a question that neither of you really dwell on that much as you show Alexia your own present ideas.

Wrapping the presents the night before isn't an easy task and you get the feeling that you and Alexia might have gone just a bit overboard. It's only a fleeting thought as you and Alexia wrap the boxes and tie them off with bows, writing sweet messages to your daughters on them even though neither of them can read just yet.

"We're all sleeping together tonight, right?" Alexia asks as she finishes off her last present, placing it in Elena's sizable pile.

"Us and the girls, definitely," You agree," I'm not sure if you'll get all the dogs and Mr Stinky in bed with us."

Mr Stinky looks up from his spot on the special pillow that's reserved just for him on the sofa. The tumours on his body have gotten much bigger now and he's getting weaker and weaker by the day.

He's got one more scan to come back to see if anything can be done but this could be his very last Christmas.

"Mr Stinky won't mind," Alexia assures you," He loves cuddling in our bed."

"And Lady?"

"Lady loves cuddling too!"

"And Sinky and his sisters?"

Alexia purses her lips. The puppies are still a bit wild and excitable at times, none of them ever content to just stay in one place even though the bed is more than big enough for everyone to fit into it.

"We'll leave the bedroom door open," Alexia says sagely, nodding her head like she's just cracked the secrets of the universe," So they can come in if they want."

"Alright," You say, standing up and stretching your back," I'm going to bring Mr Stinky up and then grab Elena. You'll let the dogs out one last time and get Maya?"

Alexia nods, drawing you back for a moment by your waist to press a kiss to your lips.

"I will, amor."

"Good," You say," And hurry up."

Alexia nods along with a smile, already heading to open the back door for the dogs.

Your footsteps approaching again makes Alexia turn and you speak directly in her ear.

"And I've got a very special present for you tomorrow when the girls have gone to sleep."

"Oh?"

You giggle right in her ear, low and sultry. "You're going to have a lot of fun unwrapping me for Christmas."

[pennyellee]

𝐀𝐍𝐔𝐁𝐈𝐒

𝐀𝐍𝐔𝐁𝐈𝐒 | 𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐉𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐅𝐈𝐀 𝐀𝐔 pairings: yandere mafia namjoon x barmaid f!reader genre: dark romance, smut, slight porn with plot, 90s word count: 19,7K beta read by @chaoticpuff17 (ily)

masterlist

summary: “You are something I can sin for” An anchor amidst the stormy seas of life — that’s what Namjoon is for you. But it wasn’t always like that. There was a time where you’ve resented Namjoon with every fibre of your being and every word that came out of his plump lips after what he had done to prove his power. Unfortunately, you will never know what life could be if Kim Namjoon was not in it.

warnings: minors dni 18+ | sexual tension, emotional distress, teasing, yandere behaviour, obsessive behaviour, manipulation, reader meets namjoon at 17, forced engagement, kidnapping, graphic violence, death, murder, blood, explicit language, misogyny, mentions of feminism, alcohol usage, mentions of religion and God, church smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, oppa-kink and so on (i'll add some if i'll forget)

disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain strong language, explicit content, obsessive behaviour, alcohol drinking, illegal activities, oppressiveness, which we do not condone.

a/n: So here we are! This is the story I've been thrilled to share as it unfolds almost simultaneously with Champagne Confetti. Y/N, alias Peaches, is my baby, and I cannot wait to write more for her and Namjoon after my current project wraps up, wink wink. I have drafts for other fics set in the same universe as my current work and the new one, Anubis. Step by step, my fairies ♥

I hope you will enjoy reading this piece I've kept to myself for a long time. The best thing about writing is that I get to build this world of imagination and live in it for months before it gets to you. Sooo, I'm very nervous and excited to push Anubis out as a second fic within this universe— which now I have decided is going to be called — 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝟏𝟗𝟗𝟔. Without further ado, enjoy, fairies! ♥

1996

There's a soft whisper in your bones, each time you wake up in the morning. As your eyes flutter open, the room is dimly lit, shadows dancing on the ceiling. All your demons are staring at you from above. They have been there when you went to sleep, and they are still there when you wake up. You know them all too well—regrets, doubts, fears—they've become familiar companions in the lonely hours of the night. They whisper tales of your failures, amplifying every mistake, every misstep, until they echo like thunder in your mind.

But would it be any different if your steps turned the other direction? Would the cosmos allow you to be? Possibly. You, however, will never know what life would be without blood flowing down the stream, dirty money from all the sins you've watched being committed.

You will never know what life could be if Kim Namjoon was not in it. But the thought is fleeting, for you know deep down that he is as much a part of your story as the demons that haunt you. His presence has shaped you in ways both profound and subtle, leaving an indelible mark on your soul and your body. The agonising pain within still remains and all you can think of is how did you get to this point in your story.

"Bitches come and go, Peaches—" you recalled those words like it was yesterday they were uttered.

"—but you and him, love, you be for life."

An anchor amidst the stormy seas of life — that's what Namjoon is for you. But it wasn't always like that. There was a time when you resented Namjoon and every word that came out of his plump lips.

Kim Namjoon was trouble and the whole Bronx knew so. Heck, even the whole state knew what kin he came from. You were no exception. But whatever you did, you never managed to put distance between you two.

The world seemed both infinitely vast and impossibly small when the streets of the Bronx were your stage. You were barely seventeen when you met Namjoon, a whirlwind of youthful energy and reckless abandon, there he is, so vivid in your memories.

Every time you'd help around Anubis, you could see his straying eyes. He had an aura of mischief that drew you in like a moth to a flame. You remember the way his gaze lingered on your skin, straying from the task at hand to fixate on you with a mixture of fascination.

Namjoon's reputation preceded him like a shadow cast by the noonday sun. Entirely impossible to overlook, yet you did. His name was whispered in hushed tones in the back alleys and dark corners where his influence held sway, and that was only the beginning. The magnitude he reached decades later is for another story.

You had heard the rumors—the tales of his involvement with the local gangs, the whispers of his connections to the underworld that lurked beneath the surface of the city. Certainly, you would have to be lying if you said that Anubis was completely legal. You were not that stupid. While it bore the façade of a legitimate establishment, its roots ran deep into the murky waters of the criminal underworld.

Mrs. Jung could smile as widely as she wanted and reassure you that all was fine and all was taken care of, but you couldn't ignore the whispers that circulated about Anubis. Yet she paid triple what you could get in any regular bar. Not like you could work at a regular bar at the time at your age. Survival often depended on turning a blind eye to the unsavory realities of life that you would never be able to face alone. Money was tight and you could not afford to lose such a good-paying job. Even if it took what it took.

"His eyes are hungry for you, Peaches—" said Mrs. Jung while toying with the little umbrella that was swimming in her Kamasutra drink you'd prepared just a few minutes ago. You envisioned your life in the city just like she had, Saint Laurent heels clicking loudly as you would walk down the streets of Manhattan. You admired your lady boss from her head to toes. Mrs. Jung was a symbol of pussy and power. Until she was not. The power was given to her and once she rejected to meet the expectations, it was taken from her.

"—But that's all he can do, at least for now."

She winked your way and then her attention turned to the approaching male figure. What she meant by that is loud and clear. You are underaged and Namjoon cannot make any move on you even if he wanted to. Although something tells you that this would be the least illegal thing he would’ve committed.

You’ve met Mark Tuan on occasion when he stopped by the bar. She was not Mrs Jung at the time, yet the notorious life of your lady boss, confused you even then. The way she and Mr Jung behaved around each other gave you the impression that he is her lover and not the tattooed boy that fucked the brains out of her in the office upstairs.

You felt the pain that was reflected on Jung Hoseok’s face when he asked where is she and you had to answer truthfully. The only thing you knew about Namjoon was that he and the Jungs ran way back. Their primary, and to the upper world’s eye, legal assets were the distilleries that distribute whiskey and brandy which you were serving each night till early hours of the morning.

The moment he particularly chose to visit the bar only those evenings you’ve been around was a louder hint shouted your way. As if you haven’t already figured. There was something intoxicating about the way he moved through the world and the way he moved you once your eyes locked.

The way he spoke to you, listened to you so attentively, gave advice on occasion and provided a shoulder to lean on, was all pulling you to him even more. It made you forget about all the skeletons that were in his closet.

The air crackled with anticipation as he walked through the room each night, straight to you, his gaze fixing on you with a mixture of fascination and desire. But amidst the heat of the moment, there was a shadow of doubt that lingered in the back of your mind.

Mrs. Jung's sudden disappearance, Namjoon taking over the day-to-day operations of Anubis—it all seemed too convenient, too perfect to be mere coincidence. It gave him the opportunity to watch you, enchant you. You were scared that he'd cut you off whenever you fucked up something. But he never did; rather the opposite, offering you a lifeline when you needed it most. There was a chemistry between you that defied explanation, a silent understanding that transcended words.

The way his muscular torso almost pressed against yours in the storage room took your breath away instantly. The faint scent of his cologne enveloped you as he leaned in closer, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. Surrounded by crates and boxes of expensive alcoholic beverages, the world seemed to fade away. His hand brushed against yours while he was lifting it, sending a jolt of electricity coursing through your veins as you met his gaze. Reaching above your head to envelop his slender fingers around the throat of the bottle that you could not reach before, he slowly moved closer to hover above your lips. You trembled under his gaze on your lips that were slightly parted; you were panting at this point, reminding you of the dangers that lurked beneath the surface of your forbidden romance.

"Just a moment longer."

His voice was a low murmur, a seductive whisper that sent a thrill racing through your veins. Despite the warning bells that rang in the recesses of your mind, you couldn't deny the pull he had over you, the magnetic attraction that drew you closer with each passing moment, his presence overwhelming in the confined space of the storage room. You knew that this was wrong, and yet, as his breath ghosted over your skin, you couldn't bring yourself to pull away.

You would never deny it, but you could not accept it and return his affections the way he wished you would. This was temporary. You never planned to stay in Anubis for longer than needed. It was not where you belonged, and the criminal underbelly of the Bronx was not the life you had envisioned for yourself.

You could not understand what made him stay away from you for such a long time. But it certainly created an opening for you to re-think your next steps.

The twenty-first year of your life was dangerously close. You graduated from college that could be paid as your earnings in Anubis allowed so. Slowly, your little life in the farthest corner of Bronx would come to an end and you could move into the city. Get a job, maybe even a man and kids later. You wanted that white-picket-fence life and you knew that if you wanted to live it peacefully, staying here was not an option.

Your father was strongly against you leaving even though he never approved of the life you led in the dark of nights. He was not a saint either, his hands stained with the same sins that plagued the streets of the Bronx. There was no man in the whole New York City that would not know the name Kim Namjoon and your father was not an exception. Although, you never had the courage to mention his name and acknowledge that the man your father praises when he drinks his beer and plays poker with his drunkard old pals, is spending his evenings talking to you.

"I tell ya all, that Namjoon boy has got a head on his shoulders like no other," your father's voice boomed across the small kitchen.

"A real businessman, that one," a flicker of unease stirring in the pit of your stomach as you caught sight of the familiar glint of admiration in your step-father's eyes. Namjoon's name hung in the air between you, a silent reminder of the bond that had formed between you in the shadows of Anubis.

"I wouldn't be surprised if he ended up running this whole city someday, right, Peaches?" You forced a smile, a wave of uncertainty washing over you as you considered the implications of your father's words. Namjoon's ambitions were as vast as the city itself, his influence reaching far beyond the confines of Anubis and the criminal underworld it symbolized.

"That's Mr. Jung's place, dad," you shook your head disapprovingly but with a smile on your face. His comrades laughed and shared similar ideas as he did though.

"That would be a boy for your Peaches," one of his comrades chuckled, the sound echoing off the walls of the cramped kitchen as they continued to sing Namjoon's praises after you only silently smiled again and opted not to respond. Your father however scoffed. He praised him, yes. But would he approve of his only child being with such a man like Namjoon is?

"When are you leaving for the city, young Missy?" Old man whose name you've never known asked with a cigarette in his mouth, looking over his cards rather than your way.

"Don't even support her in that big apple bullshit." You felt a pang of disappointment at his lack of support, but you were not surprised. You glanced around the kitchen, meeting the eyes of the men gathered there, each one offering their own opinion on your future. Some nodded in agreement with your step-father, while others remained silent, their expressions unreadable.

"Don't listen to those old men, child—"

"You got dreams, girl. Don't let nobody hold you back from chasing 'em.”

Truth to be told. The job, white fence, man and kids were not your dreams. You did not really know what to dream of, being restricted in such a dark part of the world that Bronx was for many, you did not even know why you hate your home like that. And you certainly weren’t even sure what is it to have a dream. But you hoped you’ll create some once you step your foot down, somewhere else than here. It doesn’t have to be Manhattan in particular. Anywhere but here is fine.

"Peaches, love, be sweet and bring us another beer from the fridge on your way to work, would ya?"

The request snapped you out of your thoughts, bringing you back to the present moment. With a nod, you forced a smile, hiding the turmoil within as you moved to comply with his request. You were sure you'd be late to your shift at Anubis yet again, but you knew that Namjoon would turn a blind eye. He always did when it came to you.

But Namjoon was not present the moment you stepped into Anubis that night. As you made your way through the dimly lit interior of Anubis, a sense of foreboding settled over you like a heavy blanket. The usual hustle and bustle of the bar seemed muted, the air thick with tension as you approached the bar.

Mrs. Jung was still nowhere to be found and therefore, for a few months, Namjoon had replaced her. But tonight he was not here. He usually came around ten p.m. and stayed until you cleaned the very last table and closed the bar.

Taking a deep breath, you squared your shoulders and set about your duties, determined to carry on despite the growing sense of unease that lingered in the air. But as the night wore on, the feeling of dread only intensified, leaving you on edge as you awaited Namjoon's return.

You watched the sun rising through the large windows that let the light come into the bar that was still beaming with a significant number of people of various ages. Despite your efforts to focus on your tasks, your thoughts kept drifting back to him. Where could he be? Why hadn't he shown up as usual? The questions nagged at you, fueling the unease that had settled in your stomach like a lead weight.

"Peaches?!" You heard the voice of one of the local and returning customers from the other side of the dancing floor. He was a friend. Or so you thought. He raised two fingers into the air and in a second you were already pouring the brownish liquid of Jung's Whiskey into the crystal-clear glasses.

You walked over to the table he was sitting at alongside a face you'd never seen before. Thanking you for the drinks, he pointed his thumb to the man sitting next to him.

"Peaches, Jinyoung—"

"Jinyoung, Peaches."

You offered a polite smile, acknowledging the introduction as you set down the drinks on the table. The unfamiliar man, Jinyoung, returned the gesture with a nod, his expression unreadable.

"Nice to meet you, Jinyoung," you replied, your voice tinged with a hint of curiosity.

Jinyoung's gaze met yours, his eyes dark and probing as if searching for something within you. You couldn't help but feel a twinge of discomfort under his scrutiny, a feeling that only added to the unease already gnawing at your insides. Something about him set off alarm bells in your mind, a primal instinct warning you to tread carefully.

"What's a beauty like you doing tucked in Anubis?" Jinyoung asked, his voice smooth and velvety. You glanced around the dimly lit bar, suddenly aware of the eyes that seemed to linger on you from every corner, not understanding why.

"I... I work here," you said, a sudden shyness prevailing on the surface. You never really engaged with other men apart from Namjoon. For some reason, each time a man approached you, all of them quickly backed out, opting to not even look your way. For a long time, you did not know what you did wrong to chase them all away. But you got to know that night.

Jinyoung's lips quirked into a knowing smile, his gaze never leaving yours.

"I can offer you a better job, beauty," his words dripping with a seductive allure, and in that moment, you decided you needed to get back to work ASAP. He sounded like trouble you did not want on your last days here.

"I... I appreciate the offer, but I'm quite content here," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

"You sure? I could have good use of someone like you, Peaches." Your heart pounded in your chest as Jinyoung's words washed over you. He played with your name on his tongue, and you had a hint that the job he was offering you would be something much worse than working in Anubis.

"Easy, Jinyoung, that's Namjoon's girl you're talking to." Jackson finally spoke up as if he heard your little begging in your head, but this was not what you expected him to say. Were you Namjoon's girl? Years went by and he merely brushed upon your hand with his own. There was no attempt to woo you directly. So how come everyone saw it this way—you as Namjoon's girl?

"I'm not Namjoon's girl—" you said, standing your ground for once. You saw Jackson's eyes widen and Jinyoung smirk at your remark.

"I'm no one's girl—"

"Nonetheless, thanks for the offer but I have to decline." Jinyoung's smirk widened at your words, his gaze flickering with amusement as if he found your defiance entertaining. A second later you were on your way back to the bar. He was Jackson's friend, but he was crude and he did not understand he ought to fuck off. The grip you suddenly felt on your upper arm was painful enough to make you wince, yanking you back as you squinted your eyes from the pain of his touch.

"What makes you say no if you're no one's slu—" your ears picked up his words before they were silenced. Forever. His last words were cut off by a deafening gunshot, leaving you frozen in shock. The sound of it still ringing in your ears as you turned to see the source of the chaos. There, standing with a smoking gun in his hand, was Namjoon, his expression unreadable as he stared down at Jinyoung's lifeless form. One side of Jackson's face was covered in blood that was his friend's, his shock mirroring your own. And you were scared to even move an inch.

Namjoon had just killed a man in cold blood, he shot him right in front of you. Without mercy. Panic surged through you as you realized the gravity of what had just transpired. The grip he had on your upper arm weakened yet remained even after his head fell down. It was a clear shot to the side of his head.

By now, half of the bar emptied, only those underworld rats stayed unfazed. Namjoon was always so calm, so collected. But now, he looked like a completely different person. The bar had fallen into an eerie silence, broken only by the sound of your own ragged breathing. You wanted to run, but your legs failed you, unable to move as the reality of the situation sank in.

"What—" your heart hammered in your chest as you searched for something, anything, to say, but the words caught in your throat, choked by the weight of the moment. Your whole body trembled uncontrollably, your breaths coming in ragged gasps. You reached to pull your hand away from Jinyoung's lifeless grip and while you struggled to do so, the scenery before you was not helping you to calm down. The side of his head blown up, you could see parts of his brain, immediately making you empty your stomach on the floor. The fact that Namjoon hadn't said a word since he literally came out of nowhere was not contributing to the situation either.

You heard his smooth voice but it was too muffled at this point. He was giving orders to Jackson, but you did not understand a single word coming out of his mouth. Your head was spinning and the room felt like a carousel.

"Why would you—" you began to stutter, your voice barely a whisper. The question died on your lips, swallowed by the overwhelming sense of dread that hung heavy in the air. Namjoon had just committed an act of unspeakable violence, ending a man's life without a second thought. Nothing will be the same ever again. You stayed out of all the illegalness that surrounded Anubis on purpose. What eyes don't see, heart doesn't hurt. What you don't know, can't hurt you. But now you eye-witnessed such brutality and he won't let you walk away to the other end of the rainbow.

You did not expect him to hear you nor even answer your remark, but of course, Kim Namjoon was always here to listen to you.

"He touched you."

The words hit you like a physical blow, jolting you out of your stunned silence. He wasn't just stating a fact; he was issuing a warning, a chilling reminder of the consequences of crossing him. Looking him in the eye, he looked like a possessive maniac, like someone determined to protect what he perceived as his.

"He didn't—" you began, your voice faltering under the weight of Namjoon's scrutiny. Yet you stopped yourself to think whether Jinyoung's intentions were harmless or not. You remembered the way Jinyoung had leered at you, his touch lingering where it shouldn't have.

"No one can touch you, Peaches."

You felt a chill run down your spine as the weight of his words settled over you. It wasn't just a declaration; it was a promise, a vow to protect you at any cost. But beneath the surface, you sensed something darker, something primal and possessive that sent chills down your body.

You were paralyzed by the intensity of his gaze, unable to tear your eyes away from his. Your mind raced with a million thoughts and questions, but you knew better than to voice them.

That night you started to hate each and every gaze he threw your way when you were working, all the men running away after uttering a single word to you, and all the remarks about you being Namjoon's girl.

But were you ready to be Namjoon's girl? To be part of his world?

You sit up, the sheets clinging to your skin like a shroud, and confront the spectres that linger above. Even after some weeks, you still cannot shake off the tremor you've experienced that night.

"Peaches?!" You heard your father's voice. You were hidden in the confines of your small room for days now, coming out only to take a bottle of water, and even that you managed to minimize by taking the whole six-pack. You couldn't bring yourself to respond.

The look in Namjoon's eyes, the sound of the gunshot ringing in your ears, the sight of Jinyoung's lifeless body—all of it was seared into your mind, haunting you like a relentless spectre. You needed some time. But it was running out quickly.

Lost in the labyrinth of your thoughts, you remained silent, grappling with the weight of the choices that lay before you. You packed your bag last night, all the cash stuffed inside at various places, just to be turned right back on your heel by two muscular men you'd never met before. The color they wore was emerald green, and you quickly understood that those were Jung soldiers, if you could call them that.

Your father was similarly confused. His eyes were darting between you and the soldiers as he struggled to make sense of the situation. So here you are, awaiting when he will decide to collect you. What is he waiting for? You knew that your time was running out; you just didn't know exactly when it would run out.

In that moment that night, you missed the Namjoon you thought he was. All you could see was a stranger, a dangerous man whose actions had shattered your illusions and left you reeling in their wake. Yes, you knew his line of work, but you'd rather not see it with your own two eyes. You'd rather stay oblivious to who he really was just to keep the picture of the Namjoon you knew hanging a little bit longer.

"You can't hide there forever." And you certainly did not plan to, but coming out to see your father's worried face after he sees how disheveled you look could wait for another day or so. You did not know what Namjoon intended to achieve by making you a prisoner in your own home.

Every fiber of your being wanted to hate Namjoon, but you did not know whether that was even possible with how smart that man was with his mouth.

This cage of fear and uncertainty made you uneasy. The wind that forcefully closed your window awoke you from your thoughts. You lived on the second floor of an old block of apartments. You moved toward the old rusted window, cautiously pushing it open again. The cool night air rushed to meet your cheeks, and you closed your eyes to feel it.

Peering down, you assessed the drop. It wasn't too high, and the fire escape just below offered a feasible route. Why had it not occurred to you earlier?

"Peaches, please, talk to me. They've been saying that you can't go out and should wait for sajangnim Kim."

Your father's voice was strained, a mix of concern and frustration. You hesitated, torn between the urge to reassure him and the pressing need to just run for the hills before it was too late for you.

What you realized in the moment, listening to his muffled pleas, was that this might be the last time you'd see him. You couldn't come back to the Bronx ever again. Nor New York. You weren't sure exactly what the magnitude of Jung's power was that Namjoon shared, but you had the hunch that wherever you'd hide in this state, he would find you.

"Dad?" you said softly, your voice barely a whisper. You felt a lump in your throat, the weight of the impending goodbye pressing down on you. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself.

"I'm here, Peaches," your father responded, his voice breaking slightly. "Please, come out. We'll figure this out." Tears welled up in your eyes as you clung to the closed door.

"It's no go, Dad."

"Please, just open the door." His voice was closer now, just outside the door.

You glanced around your room, grabbing your packed bag and slipping it over your shoulder.

"I love you, Dad. I'm sorry. Bye—"

With a final, sorrowful glance toward the door, you slipped out of the window, your feet finding purchase on the metal grating of the fire escape. You descended quickly, not daring to look back. The metal stairs creaked under your weight, each step taking you further from the life you knew. You needed to disappear.

You had no shoes on, and the white tank top clung to your skin, outlining your curves and breasts. The night air was cool against your exposed skin, a harsh contrast to the warmth of your tears. The metal of the stairs felt rough under your bare feet, but you pushed forward until you were all the way down.

Catching your breath and glancing around the dimly lit alleyway, the city felt oppressively silent, the only sound your own ragged breathing. As you took a step forward, a soft scoff resonated in your ears, leaving you standing there frozen. The man was totally invisible in the dark shadows of the alley between the buildings until he pulled out his zippo lighter to light a cigarette, illuminating his face. He exhaled a cloud of smoke, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Where are you headed, Peaches?"

The man who was casually leaning against the cold bricks wasn't unfamiliar to you. You, as a barmaid at Anubis, had the extravagant privilege to meet four out of the big seven. Kim Taehyung being one of them, standing here in front of you.

"Mr. Kim," you breathed, dread pooling in your stomach. You were on a first-name basis only with Namjoon even though they all scolded you, especially your lady boss, for being way too formal and polite, making them feel older than they actually are. Truth be told, you were putting some distance between them, but you utterly failed to do so with Namjoon, and here you are, on the run.

"I'm your family now, Peaches," Taehyung said, his voice dripping with mockery. "You should start getting used to that, so drop the mister finally."

You gritted your teeth, trying to steady your nerves as you faced Taehyung. "Taehyung," you corrected yourself, though the informal address felt wrong on your tongue.

"That's better, what a good girl you can be," he said with a smirk, taking a step closer. His presence felt suffocating, a reminder of the dangerous world you had stumbled into.

"Why are you here, Taehyung?" you asked, your voice trembling slightly.

"Why are you here, Peaches?" Taehyung countered, his tone filled with amusement. You bit the inside of your mouth, feeling the nerves tighten their grip on you.

"Getting some fresh air," you replied, trying to sound casual despite the knot of anxiety tightening in your chest.

Taehyung raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. "Ah, yes, because nothing says 'fresh air' like sneaking out of your window in the dead of night," he quipped, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his scrutiny bearing down on you. "I just needed to clear my head," you said, hoping he would buy your flimsy excuse.

"You are not planning to do anything stupid now, Peaches, right?" You paused, considering your response carefully. Taehyung's tone, though casual, carried a hint of warning that sent a shiver down your spine. You slightly shook your head to show dismissal.

"Namjoon-hyung said you looked pretty shaken up that night." You couldn't help but tense at Taehyung's mention of Namjoon, a surge of apprehension coursing through you. You had tried to bury the memories of that night deep within you, but they continued to resurface, haunting your every thought.

"I'm fine," you replied, forcing a tight smile. "Just had a rough night, that's all."

"It looks like you're about to have another one to me." Your heart skipped a beat at Taehyung's ominous remark, the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end. Despite his casual demeanor, there was an underlying tension in the air that sent a shiver down your spine.

"I don't know what you're talking about," you said, trying to keep your voice steady despite the rising sense of unease.

"Unzipped duffle bag, dollar bills fell from it while you were going down, that looks like you were very eager to get that fresh air."

"I... I was just going for a walk," you stammered, scrambling for an excuse. Taehyung raised an eyebrow, his gaze unwavering.

"Without putting your shoes on?"

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of Taehyung's scrutiny bearing down on you. "I couldn't sleep," you admitted, the words tumbling out in a rush. "I needed some fresh air to clear my head.” You repeat yourself, but you know that you can’t fool him no matter what.

Taehyung's gaze lingered on you for a moment longer before he shrugged, as if dismissing the matter altogether. "Well, you certainly know how to make an exit," he remarked, his smirk never faltering.

You forced a weak smile, trying to mask the unease bubbling inside you. "Guess I've always had a flair for the dramatic," you quipped, though the words rang hollow in your ears.

Taehyung chuckled, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. "That you do, Peaches. That you do," he said cryptically, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of amusement and something else you couldn't quite decipher.

"You know, Namjoon doesn't like it when his... family goes missing," he said, the emphasis on 'family' making you flinch. He took a slow drag from his cigarette, exhaling the smoke in a lazy stream.

You clenched your fists, feeling trapped. "I'm not missing," you said, your voice firmer than before. "I'm right here."

"I'd probably get a head start if I were you." Taehyung nodded slowly, as if considering your words.

Your heart pounded in your chest. "A head start?"

He took another drag, the smirk never leaving his lips. "I'm not a monster, Peaches. I'll give you a five-minute head start before I come after you."

The realization hit you like a ton of bricks. He was actually giving you a chance to run, but this time you would know someone was after you. You glanced around, calculating your options. The streets were empty, but you knew they wouldn't stay that way for long.

"Five minutes, Peaches. Starting now."

You turned and ran, your bare feet slapping against the pavement. The adrenaline coursed through your veins as you sprinted down the alley, knowing that Taehyung's smirk was etched in your mind.

You didn't know where you were going, but you knew you had to get as far away as possible. Everything blurred as you pushed yourself to run faster, the sound of your heartbeat drowning out everything else.

If you hide well, he can't find you, can he? You just have to find yourself a place to hide until morning and then you can wait till sunrise, get to the airport and fly to the first destination that will pop up.

You could feel the cold concrete scraping your feet, but the pain was a distant echo compared to the urgency of escape. You glanced over your shoulder, half-expecting to see Taehyung's figure emerging from the shadows, but for now, you were alone.

You could feel the cold concrete scraping your feet, but the pain was a distant echo compared to the urgency of escape. You glanced over your shoulder, half-expecting to see Taehyung's figure emerging from the shadows, but for now, you were alone.

The five minutes neared their end, and you knew you couldn't stay hidden forever. You had to keep moving, keep putting distance between you and Taehyung. Peering through the leaves, you scanned the area, your mind racing through possible routes and hiding spots.

"If I don’t bring you back, he'll come instead, Peaches!" Taehyung's voice echoed through, taunting you.

"You don't want to anger him, do you now?"

You needed a plan, and fast. Glancing around, you noticed a narrow passageway between two buildings, just wide enough for you to squeeze through. It might lead you to a different part of the neighborhood, giving you a chance to lose Taehyung in the labyrinth of backstreets.

You bolted towards the passageway, your bare feet slapping against the cold pavement. The alley was narrow and dark, but you pushed forward, heart pounding in your chest. Every shadow seemed to move, every sound amplified in the stillness of the night.

"They all run at first, Peaches—" Taehyung's voice echoed, closer now. "You're cute thinking you have a chance to get away."

It was way too narrow even if you put your bag down from your shoulder and dragged it as you tried to squeeze through. Every shadow seemed to move, every sound amplified in the stillness of the night, and you were scared that he would get to you soon. You knew he was out there, somewhere, searching for you.

"Although, my mind is troubled. Why, out of all of them, do you run?" There was a pause, then a chuckle.

You pushed yourself harder, feeling the rough brick walls scrape against your skin. You needed to keep moving, but you also needed a moment to think. The airport was too far, especially when they were already looking for you. You thought you were clever to disappear through the window as if you were in some cheesy cliché movie.

"Namjoon-hyung was always good to you, wasn't he?" He was. Until the moment someone else's brain was blown up by him right in front of you, simply because of his possessiveness while he never made you two exclusive. Or at least you thought so, as it showed—you were claimed by him sooner than you actually realized. You felt the panic rising in your chest, threatening to overwhelm you.

"You have no reason to run, Peaches," Taehyung's voice was taunting, echoing off the walls. "Namjoon-hyung will be so disappointed when he finds out how far you've gone." You ignored the majority of his words, focusing on finding a way out.

You closed your eyes and tried to think harder this time. The old train yard—bingo—it was on the outskirts of the city. It was abandoned, a place where few people ventured. If you could make it there, you might be able to find a boxcar to hide in until morning.

"Family doesn't abandon family, Peaches!" You heard his voice again, this time more distant.

Emerging from the passageway, you found yourself in a small courtyard. It was littered with old furniture and discarded trash; the smell was awful, but you didn't have time to dwell on that.

You listened intently, straining to hear any sign of Taehyung. The silence was deafening, broken only by the distant hum of traffic and the occasional bark of a dog.

You stuck to the shadows, moving as quietly as possible. The train yard was a long way off, but it was your best shot at staying out of immediate reach. Or so you thought.

You couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. Every rustle of leaves, every distant footstep made you jump. You forced yourself to stay calm, to focus on the path ahead. Panicking would only slow you down.

The city's edge came into view, the silhouette of the train yard looming in the distance. You quickened your pace, the sight of your potential sanctuary giving you a burst of energy. You crossed the threshold into the yard, the rusted tracks and abandoned cars offering a twisted sense of comfort.

An old boxcar with the door slightly ajar beckoned to you. You slipped inside, the smell of rust and decay filling your nostrils. You closed the door behind you, plunging the space into darkness. It was cramped and musty, but it was hidden.

Sinking to the floor, you allowed yourself a moment to breathe. Your body ached, your feet throbbed, but you had made it. For now, you were safe. You could only hope that Taehyung would give up the chase, or at least lose your trail long enough for you to figure out your next move.

The sound of gravel crunching outside the boxcar woke you up and consequently made your heart jump into your throat. You held your breath, straining to listen. The footsteps were deliberate and slow, echoing through the stillness of the night.

You held your breath, trying to remain as quiet as possible. The footsteps drew closer, each crunch of gravel sending a shockwave through your body. Your mind raced with possibilities. Was it Taehyung? Or perhaps someone else stumbling upon your hiding spot?

"I seriously don't understand why you didn't throw her over your shoulder and take her back to her room." The older male shot him a glare.

"Oh come the fuck on, you're one to talk." It was Taehyung's voice, laced with frustration and annoyance.

“I did not lose her, I gave her choice and she chose wrong, she’ll be back though, in no time.” The younger one scoffed and Taehyung quirked his brows, evidently amused by his brother. 

"Well, at least that was my woman I lost and not our Hyung's." The tattooed heartthrob spat his friend's way when he heard his scoff.

"This isn't really my job. I'm only doing this because Namjoon cares about her too much to leave someone incompetent to watch her until he'll come back."

“Or you’re the only one without a woman, Tae.” You heard a little thump as if he jokingly punched him and the other voice chuckled. But first and foremost –

Namjoon's away. He did not come for you as he's away, and if away means out of the state, you have a bigger chance to make an exit than you originally thought.

Seeing him would only make things worse. Listening to his sweet melodies of words would make you doubt what Taehyung initiated—you have no reason to run. Apart from that, you do. He was deeply entrenched in the world of organized crime, his life a constant dance between power and peril. While his charming demeanor and enigmatic presence had drawn you in, you knew that his lifestyle came with its own set of risks and consequences.

He operated in the shadows, his actions dictated by a code of loyalty to his comrades and ruthlessness towards his enemies. At least that's what you heard people talk about the Jungs and their family man.

You didn't think there was room for innocence. But were you innocent? You had blood on your hands. Jinyoung's. You had been complicit in his demise. While it wasn't you who pulled the trigger, you were the motive.

As the voices grew louder, you strained to make out what they were saying. The sound of footsteps approached the boxcar, each one sending a jolt of fear through you. Were they getting closer? Were they about to open the door and drag you out into the open?

"I did not expect her to play the game that well, I have to give her that," Taehyung remarked, his voice tinged with admiration. Your heart raced as you listened to their conversation.

"Smart, just like he is."

The footsteps came to a stop just outside the boxcar, and you braced yourself for the door to swing open at any moment. Every nerve in your body was on edge, ready to flee at the first sign of danger.

But instead of the door creaking open, the voices began to fade away, the gravel crunching underfoot growing softer as they moved further away. Relief washed over you in waves, but you remained cautious, waiting until the sound of their footsteps had disappeared entirely before allowing yourself to relax.

You stayed hidden in the darkness of the boxcar, unsure of how much time had passed. Eventually, the adrenaline began to ebb, leaving you exhausted and drained. You were scared that they were waiting outside and the moment you decided to move places would be fatal for you.

The growl in your stomach was loud, echoing in the empty boxcar. You hadn't eaten in what felt like an eternity, and the gnawing hunger was beginning to take its toll. Despite the fear that they might be lying in wait, you knew you couldn't stay here forever or you'd die of hunger very soon.

Despite the fear that they might be lying in wait, you knew you couldn't stay here forever. Peeking through the small gap, you scanned the area. The night was still, and there was no sign of Taehyung or anyone else.

Slipping out of the boxcar, you kept to the shadows, moving quietly and quickly. You needed to find food, but more importantly, you needed to find a safer place to hide. If you couldn't reach the airport, you'd have to wait somewhere until you were considered off the radar. Would Namjoon lose his interest if he knew you were gone for good? You hoped so, but you also strongly doubted that. The man had had his eyes set on you for three years or so, without ever losing interest in you.

The city was vast, with many nooks and crannies where you could potentially evade capture, but you moved in the dead of the night cautiously. Slowly closing the distance between the convenience store at least ten blocks from your home, its lights were still on and you thanked the almighty, or more so the 24 hour market in front of you.

The store seemed deserted, only a shabby-looking man in his mid-thirties sitting behind the counter, half asleep. You slipped inside, quickly grabbing some food and water before leaving to pay at the counter. When the doorbell rang indicating that a customer entered the small store, you froze in place.

You ducked behind a shelf, hoping the dim lighting and cluttered aisles would conceal you. Peering through a gap between products, you saw a figure enter. You may be paranoid but you wouldn't take the risk when you had managed to not be caught for what seemed like hours. You knew better.

Your heart pounded in your chest, the sound of your heartbeat almost louder than the growling stomach from earlier. You clutched the food tightly, muscles tense, waiting for the perfect moment to quickly throw the few bucks on the counter and make your leave. You straightened a little.

It wasn't him. It was just a person that resembled him. With a rush of relief, you moved to the counter. The shabby-looking clerk barely glanced up as you placed your items down and reached into your pocket for the money. Just as you were about to pay, a hand slammed the money down on the counter in front of you. Your heart skipped a beat and your eyes widened.

You looked up slowly, dread pooling in your stomach. Taehyung stood beside you, his eyes locking onto yours with a cold, triumphant smile.

"My treat," he said smoothly, his voice dripping with mock politeness. You froze, your breath catching in your throat. The clerk, oblivious to the tension, lazily rang up the items and handed the change to Taehyung. He pocketed it without breaking eye contact with you.

You acted rather quickly after you regained your senses, but the exit was blocked by the man you saw earlier. How could you not recognize the famous heartthrob of this decade, Jeon Jungkook? Only a few people knew of his connection to the Jungs, Kims, and Parks.

"Going somewhere?" Jungkook's voice was smooth and exactly identical to the one you heard outside of the boxcar, but there was an edge to it that sent chills down your spine. He leaned casually against the doorframe, his dark eyes fixed on you with a predatory gleam.

Panic surged through you as you realized your escape route was cut off. You glanced around the store, searching for another way out, but Taehyung's hand clamped down on your arm, his grip firm and unyielding.

The clerk did not care to intervene; he knew their faces and what they represented. One girl was not worth the trouble for him.

"Let's go," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. You had no choice but to follow, your mind racing with thoughts of escape. As you stepped out of the store, the chilly night air hit you, a stark contrast to the suffocating presence of Taehyung beside you. You scanned the street for any potential way out, but Taehyung's grip on your arm tightened, steering you toward a nearby alley.

You stumbled slightly, trying to keep pace with him. The alley was dark and narrow, the perfect place for someone to disappear. Desperation surged through you, fueling your determination. You had to find a way out of this.

"You lasted more than I expected, Peaches. I have to give you that." You fought to suppress the shiver that threatened to run down your spine. Taehyung's voice, usually smooth and melodic, now held an edge of something darker, something sinister.

"But it's time to go home."

The weight of his intentions pressed down on you like a heavy stone. You did not know what home he was speaking of. Your home? Namjoon's home? You'd never been there; you couldn't know what home he meant. But something told you that wherever he'd take you, "home" would be a gilded cage, a place of confinement disguised as comfort.

You remained silent, your jaw clenched in defiance as you continued to walk, your eyes darting around the alley for any sign of escape. But every corner seemed to lead to another dead end, and the walls closed in around you like a vice.

Tears welled up in your eyes as the desperation hit your nerves. Taehyung's grip tightened slightly, as if warning you against any further attempts at escape.

"There was no need to run, Peaches." Wasn't there? You stopped to think for a minute. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart.

With a sudden burst of strength, you twisted out of Taehyung's grip and bolted. The sound of his shout echoed behind you, but you didn't look back. You darted through the maze of backstreets, your only goal to put as much distance between you and Taehyung as possible.

Reaching a dead end, you spotted a fire escape ladder. Without a second thought, you began climbing, your fingers slipping on the cold metal. You reached the rooftop, not daring to look back as you sprinted across the gravel. The cityscape stretched before you, a chaotic playground of rooftops and danger.

You leaped from one building to the next, each landing jarring your bones, but you couldn't stop. You heard Taehyung's voice calling your name, a mix of frustration and anger, but you didn't dare slow down. You reached the edge of a particularly wide gap between buildings and hesitated, just a split second too long.

A strong arm wrapped around your waist, yanking you back. You thrashed, but the grip was unyielding. Jungkook's face came into view, his expression grim. He was faster than Taehyung, and you knew your chances to outrun him were slight, but you still hoped.

"You can't run forever, Peaches," he said quietly, almost regretfully. You could hear Taehyung's leather boots stomping against the roof's concrete and his ragged breath in unison.

You struggled, kicking and clawing, but he held firm. Your heart sank as the reality of the situation set in. Just then, you heard the uncomfortable digital sound of the Motorola flip phone that was in Taehyung's hand once he stopped in front of you.

"Hmm?" Taehyung answered the phone and ended the gut-wrenching sound. You knew who was on the other side of the line. Jungkook still held you securely, his eyes never leaving yours.

There was a pause, and then he handed you the phone.

"Your Mr. Man wants to speak to you."

You hesitated for a moment, the weight of the phone heavy in your hand. With a deep breath, you brought it to your ear, steeling yourself for the inevitable confrontation with Namjoon.

"Hello?" Your voice trembled slightly, betraying the fear and uncertainty swirling within you.

"You're losing sleep, love," he said, his tone smooth but laced with a menacing undertone. You took a shaky breath.

"S-so are you." He chuckled. You bit the inside of your lip out of nerves.

"I'd sleep better if you came back to me like the good girl I know you are."

The mixture of his charm and underlying threat was intoxicating and terrifying.

"I can't, Namjoon," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "I can't live like this anymore. I never wanted to live like this, and you knew that."

"Life is just about to begin for you, love—" he replied, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Our life," he added, and your grip tightened around the phone.

"What does that even mean?" you demanded, a mix of anger and desperation coloring your words.

"It means," he began, his voice smooth yet chilling, "that whatever you fear, we'll figure this out together."

"Please, Namjoon," you begged, your voice barely a whisper. "Let me go. I can't. I just can't," you cried out.

There was a long pause on the other end of the line, and you held your breath, hoping against hope that he might relent. Your heart pounded with a mix of fear and helplessness.

"Freedom is an illusion, love," he said, almost gently. "The only freedom you'll ever have is with me. Now, come back. We'll talk this through, and I promise you, everything will be fine. Just trust me."

"Namjoon—"

"Peaches—" he quickly interrupted your attempt to plead again.

"Don't make me take harsher measures to ensure you'll come back to me." His tone grew colder, the underlying threat unmistakable.

"Wh-what are you talking about?" you asked, a tremor in your voice.

"You know what I can do. It would be a shame if the same thing happened to someone else you care about." His words hung in the air, heavy with menace.

You looked at Jungkook and Taehyung, their faces impassive yet resolute. They were ready to enforce Namjoon's will, no matter the cost.

"Why are you doing this to me?" you asked, voice quivering.

"We can talk about that once you come home," Namjoon replied, his voice smooth but unyielding.

"Namjoon, please..." you started, desperation lacing your words.

"Enough, Peaches," he cut you off sharply. "You know what's at stake. I expect you back within an hour. Hand the phone to Taehyung."

With a heavy heart, you handed the phone back to Taehyung. He took it, his eyes filled with a mix of pity, but you didn't think it was genuine. You felt Jungkook's grip loosen slightly, but not enough to let you go.

Taehyung listened to Namjoon for a moment, then nodded. "Understood," he said before hanging up. He looked at you, his expression resigned.

"Let's go," he said softly.

You don't even know how you managed to fall asleep in the car. They took your bag, draped a warm blanket over you, and sat you down on the back seat. You did not protest anymore, even though the thought of jumping out of the car went through your head briefly.

You thought of your father, your friends, and everyone you ever met and cared for when he took the ultimate move that would make you leave everything in a heartbeat. You don't want more blood on your hands.

At the same time, you could not understand why Namjoon would take such harsh measures. This wasn't the Namjoon you knew—heck, you don't even know if you ever knew that man.

The lavish room surrounding you was magnificent and screaming one name: Namjoon. Even his scent was clinging to every single piece of the room. The silk sheets clung to your skin, and you couldn't help but close your eyes again. The morning light filtered through the heavy curtains, casting a golden hue across the room.

You could hear the audible difference in your surroundings. The Bronx had a distinctive hum, a chaotic symphony of life and struggle. But this—this was different. The sounds outside the open window were unmistakably Manhattan. The distant buzz of traffic, the occasional honk of a horn, and the muffled chatter of people far below created a stark contrast to the quiet tension inside.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. Every moment spent here felt like a betrayal to the life you once knew, the people you once loved. But escape wasn't just about physical freedom—it was about breaking free from the psychological chains Namjoon had wrapped around you.

You did not know whether you weren't running for the hills now because this oddly feels like you are meant to be here or because you don't know if you should. You spent a lot of time rolling around and thinking about this. You had not come to a conclusion yet. You'd only decided that you would give him the courtesy to talk after all the years that he and his family supported you by giving you a job.

With that resolve, you climbed out of bed, feeling the weight of silk sheets slipping away. The cold floor sent a shiver up your spine, bringing you fully awake. You made your way to the bathroom, the reflection in the mirror staring back at you. You need a haircut, maybe even a new hair color.

The shower's hot water provided a temporary refuge, washing away the grime and tension of the past few days. After drying off, you dressed in clothes Namjoon had laid out for you—an unspoken reminder of his control.

You entered the kitchen, where the aroma of breakfast hung in the air. The scent of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the rich aroma of bacon and eggs, momentarily distracting you. You were starving.

As you moved further into the room, a sudden noise made you jump. Startled, you turned to see a figure in a white chef's uniform bustling about the kitchen. He looked up, his eyes widening in surprise as he saw you.

"Good morning, Misses Kim," he said with a polite nod. "I didn't expect you to be up so early.” The title he used sent a shiver down your spine. Misses Kim. It was as if the walls were closing in, suffocating you with the weight of an identity that wasn’t yours to claim. You overlooked yourself and your attire.

You could see your bra-less breasts and perky nipples through that white tanktop, but the chef was trained well enough to not look that way. He would most likely be beheaded by Namjoon if he would dare to look that way.

"Good morning," you replied, your voice tinged with a mix of nerves and hunger. You forced a small smile.

The chef, a middle-aged man with kind eyes, set down the spatula he was holding and wiped his hands on a towel. "My name is Seo Kang-joon, Misses Kim. I'm Sajangnim's private chef—" you figured that much. Of course that man has a private chef when he cannot boil a potato for the love of God.

"He tasked me to make you some breakfast and tell you he'll be with you shortly," he explained, gesturing to the array of food laid out on the counter.

You nodded, taking a seat at the kitchen island. Your stomach growled audibly, and despite the chaos in your mind, the food before you was an undeniable lure. You picked up a piece of toast, buttering it slowly as Kang-joon resumed his work.

"How long have you been working for Namjoon?" you asked, trying to fill the silence with something other than your own anxious thoughts.

Kang-joon glanced up from the stove, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "About three years now," he replied. "I've switched with my Appa; he was working for the Kims for two generations and now it's my turn—"

"That's a long time," you said, taking a bite of the toast, the warmth of the food providing a small comfort.

"Yes, it is," he agreed, his voice gentle. "Namjoon is a good employer, he's always treated us fairly. And he cares about you a great deal—"

"I've seen you before, didn't I?" you interrupted, suddenly recalling a moment that had slipped through your mind like sand.

"At the private party last month. You were serving food, right?"

Kang-joon nodded, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Yes, that was me. I remember seeing you there, although you were quite busy too—"

You were supposed to be waitressing the tables, plural, yet you only waitressed one table that night. As per usual.

"Yep, that was my reality, I guess," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "Before all of this."

Kang-joon's expression turned somber, and he stopped cooking momentarily.

"Namjoon doesn't let anyone near you, but I've seen how happy you make him. He's different around you." Of course he thinks so. You don't blame him for his inability to see through this. It's not his place.

You fell silent, pondering his words. The chaos of Namjoon's life and the dark undercurrents that surrounded him felt suffocating. "But at what cost?" you whispered, more to yourself than to him.

"He means well—" he paused his thought and got silent, and you knew that means only one thing.

"I appreciate your loyalty to him," you said, forcing a smile that felt brittle on your lips.

"Good morning, love," he said, his voice deep and commanding. His eyes darted between you and Kang-joon, who stood with a spatula in hand, caught in the moment. "I hope you're both having a pleasant chat."

Kang-joon bowed slightly, and you could see the way he was careful to keep his composure, even as the atmosphere shifted with Namjoon's presence. "I was just finishing up breakfast, Sajangnim," he said politely. "Miss Kim and I were discussing your—"

"Thank you, Kang-joon," Namjoon interrupted, his tone suggesting a mixture of gratitude and an underlying tension. "I can take it from here."

The air felt thick, heavy with unspoken words. You looked at him, wanting to scream, wanting to run, wanting to demand answers.

"Did you sleep well?" Namjoon asked, his voice softer now, as if he was trying to breach the walls that had begun to rise between you.

You nursed your coffee in the black ceramic mug while you shrugged, keeping the answer with spice in it for yourself just yet. His brow furrowed, and for a moment, you could see the cracks in his façade when you didn't answer.

"I see... silent treatment," he gulped down, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. Pouring himself a cup of coffee too, he leaned on the counter right in front of you. You took his appearance in. He got a buzz cut, creamy satin shirt tucked in leather pants. A few of the buttons were undone, giving you a perfect view of his toned chest.

"Is that really how you want to start the day?" he provoked. You set the mug down, the clink of ceramic against marble echoing in the tension-filled kitchen.

"Did you ask yourself the same question when you threatened me?" you shot back, your voice rising slightly as the memories flooded back. The anger surged within you, igniting a fire that had been smoldering since the moment you woke up in his penthouse.

Namjoon's expression shifted, the warmth in his eyes replaced by a flicker of defensiveness.

"Well, you for some reason seemed too adamant that you needed to patrol the streets of Bronx by running away from me. I know you too damn well, Peaches; I know where you were headed."

The words stung, each syllable laced with accusation and an unsettling truth. Your heart raced, the anger bubbling just below the surface.

"You know fucking shit, Namjoon—"

"Oppa," he jumped in, his voice firm, yet tinged with a note of caution.

You inhaled sharply, the familiar term slicing through the tension like a knife. It reminded you of the intimate moments you once shared. "You've lost that honorific the moment you decided to threaten me and kill that man right in front of my eyes!"

Namjoon's jaw clenched, and you could see the conflict brewing beneath his composed exterior.

"You don't understand the kind of world I'm in. We protect ours."

"Protect?" you spat, feeling the heat of betrayal wash over you.

"I'm a person who deserves to make her own choices—" He stepped closer, his eyes narrowing.

"What choices are you making? Running off into the night like it's some kind of adventure? You think that's brave? I refuse to let you get hurt because you're unhappy with my decisions."

"Oh yeah, like something would happen to me—"

"You are my woman, and people know that you are, Peaches!" he declared, his voice rising with intensity, as if the weight of his words was meant to command respect from the universe itself.

Your heart raced at his proclamation, a mix of anger and something softer twisting in your gut.

"The fuck you're talking about, Namjoon?" You snapped, your voice echoing off the sleek kitchen walls. Anger surged within you, fueled by the sheer audacity of his claim.

"Not fucking once did you say that we ought to be official one day—" you shot back, your voice dripping with disbelief.

"You act like I'm some sort of possession, something you can just claim without any conversation or commitment!" Namjoon's expression hardened, a flicker of frustration flashing in his eyes.

"You need to stop pretending like we don't have a future because you're scared of the past," he said, smashing the mug down on the counter. Namjoon's jaw tightened, and the conflict in his eyes was palpable.

"Since I was seventeen, not fucking once have you made your intentions strictly clear, Namjoon! The fuck am I doing here then?!" The words burst from your lips, raw and unfiltered, echoing in the tense space between you.

He ran a hand over his face, visibly struggling to keep his composure.

"I thought you knew. I thought you felt it too," he replied, his voice softer now, almost pleading. "I thought it was understood that it was a matter of time."

"Understood?" you scoffed, incredulity seeping into your tone. "You think that just because you've made me a part of your life, I should automatically know my place? That's not how it works!"

"I was waiting till you turned twenty-one—"

"Age of consent is eighteen in this state, Namjoon, keep that bullshit to yourself." Namjoon's expression darkened at your words, and you could see the frustration simmering beneath the surface.

"So you would rather have me taking you as wife and putting a baby into you the moment you turned eighteen, am I right?"

The air crackled with tension as Namjoon's words hung in the space between you, a provocation that sent shockwaves through your body. You felt your breath hitch, a mixture of shock and anger coursing through you.

"So that's the plan now?" you lowered your voice.

His expression softened for a moment, and you could see the conflict etched across his features. "I thought you'd want that kind of future with me, Peaches. I thought we were on the same page from day one."

Despite Namjoon's willingness to talk, the remnants of fear and frustration churned within you, threatening to spill over. You took a deep breath, trying to ground yourself. Your heart raced, the urge to flee growing stronger. He reached out, grabbing your wrist gently but firmly.

"I love you, baby."

Your heart pounded in your chest at his words, a tumultuous blend of emotions crashing over you. You stood up from the stool you were sitting at, calmly aiming for the door. You didn't know what you were doing with this lame attempt to flee.

"Hey—" he shouted, but you did not stop. You could feel Namjoon's gaze burning into your back as you moved toward the door, his loud steps right behind you making you speed up the process.

You couldn't stop. The need to escape overwhelmed you, propelling you forward. You flung the door open, the sharp sound echoing in the silence that followed.

"Peaches!" he shouted again, his voice rising with urgency and desperation. The door rattled on its hinges as he leaned against it, trying to process what had just happened.

"Damn it!" he cursed under his breath, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on him. He knew he had pushed too hard, but he couldn't help it.

You trembled under him, still facing the door while his arm was outstretched, palms on the door, blocking you from opening it again. Your breath quickened as you stood there, the cool metal of the doorknob biting into your palm. You could feel Namjoon's presence behind you.

"Let me go, Namjoon," you demanded, your voice steady but wavering just slightly. The pounding of your heart felt like a war drum, urging you to flee, to escape this suffocating moment.

"You would come back to me nonetheless." You turned around to face him, your expression a blend of defiance and vulnerability.

"What makes you think I would?" you shot back, turning slightly to glance over your shoulder at him. The intensity in his eyes made your pulse quicken, a mixture of anger and confusion swirling within you.

"Because you love me back—" He leaned down, not giving you time to argue, and seized the chance to crash his lips down on yours for the first time.

His hands grabbed onto your hips, pulling you closer, the heat from his body seeping into yours. Your heart raced, the adrenaline coursing through your veins as his tongue danced with yours in a heated embrace.

Namjoon's fingers dug into your skin, his grip firm yet tender, as if he was trying to brand you as his own. The kiss was raw, primal, and all-consuming, leaving you both breathless and wanting more.

Namjoon's eyes locked onto yours, the fire within them burning brighter than ever before. With a low growl, he pulled you close again, his lips crashing down on yours once more as the world around you continued to spin.

As the kiss broke, Namjoon pulled away, his eyes burning with intensity.

"I'm not done being angry," you said, your voice low but unwavering. You could feel the heat radiating off him, and it both thrilled and terrified you.

Namjoon's brow furrowed slightly, surprise mingling with the intensity in his gaze. "I know that," he replied, his tone shifting, becoming more serious.

"Good," you spoke right to his lips, your heart still racing from the kiss. The mix of confusion and desire swirled within you, and you struggled to keep your composure.

The cognac brown couch was very comfortable, its soft cushions inviting you to sink in and relax. A glass coffee table with sleek chrome legs stood in front of it, its surface adorned with a stack of art books, a few scattered magazines, and a vintage crystal ashtray. So Namjoon.

A large, floor-to-ceiling window occupied one side of the room, offering a breathtaking view of the city skyline. A Persian rug, with intricate patterns in deep reds and blues, covered the polished hardwood floor, adding a touch of warmth and history to the contemporary space. Again, so Namjoon.

He was crouched down by the fireplace that dominated the place, his back to you. The fire cast a warm, flickering glow across the room, its light dancing over Namjoon's broad shoulders. He started the fire because he saw you shivering. But that had nothing to do with you being cold, and deep down he knew that too. He seemed lost in thought, his fingers idly tracing patterns on the floor as he stared into the flames.

You walked over to him, your footsteps silent on the plush rug. As you approached, Namjoon turned slightly, his eyes meeting yours. You sat down next to him.

"So, how do you imagine all this working?" you asked, your voice gentle yet tinged with the underlying frustration you felt.

Namjoon sighed, rubbing his temples with his fingers. "Just like it did till now."

You frowned slightly, shaking your head.

"So I'm gonna go back to working in Anubis and you are going to keep shooting everyone who gets closer to me?!" you said, a bit harsher than you intended. Namjoon's eyes flashed with a mix of frustration.

"You are not coming back to work in Anubis, let's start with that," he said firmly, his tone brooking no argument.

"My oh my, now you want to take the source of my income too." Namjoon shifted slightly, his gaze locked onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race. There was a flicker of something deeper in his eyes.

"You're my woman, Peaches. You don't need to work for money anymore," he started, his voice steady and filled with conviction.

You raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. "You can't be serious."

"Women in our clan don't work for decades, my woman is not gonna work either. At least not like that—" You narrowed your eyes, feeling a mixture of disbelief and intrigue at his declaration.

"That's not who I am, Namjoon." He leaned in closer, the firelight casting a warm glow over his chiseled features.

"Baby, I'm not asking you. I'm offering you the life you always deserved." He sighed, running a hand through his hair, frustration evident on his face.

"I've always been able to take care of myself."

“So now let me take care of you, sweetling.”

Your mind raced as you considered his words. The allure of a life without the constant threat of violence, without the stress of making ends meet, was tempting. But was it worth giving up your autonomy?

“You can still pursue your passions. I’m not taking that away from you,—” Namjoon paused, his expression softening.

“But no Anubis,” he took your hands into his.

“What do you want?” You asked quietly. He held your gaze, the firelight flickering across his face, illuminating the resolve etched in his features.

“I think I made my intentions strictly clear today.” He chuckled and exhaled slowly, his breath warm against your skin.

“I’m not just talking about safety and comfort, Peaches. I’m talking about us. About building a life together.”

You searched his eyes for any sign of insincerity, but all you found was determination.

“You want me to be your… what, exactly?” You knew, you just still didn’t want to believe it.

Namjoon leaned back slightly, still holding your hands, his thumb brushing against your skin in a soothing rhythm. “I want you to be mine—”

“Mind and body, heart and soul.” Namjoon's voice was low and earnest, each word weighted with sincerity.

You swallowed hard, trying to process the depth of what he was asking. “You mean… you want me to commit completely? To be yours in every sense?”

“And I’ll be yours.” He nodded, his eyes unwavering, filled with a mixture of affection and intensity. You felt a rush of emotions—a blend of excitement and fear.

“I can give you a life where you don’t have to look over your shoulder, where you can focus on what truly matters to you—your dreams, your passions, us.”

The promise of safety and love hung heavy in the air between you, and while the thought was tempting, a part of you still clung to your independence. It would be nice not to work long night hours in a bar full of drunk people to make ends meet. Not walking home with keys in your hand in case someone would jump you over or worse. Not living in a small old rusty apartment with your father who barely brought any income home.

The fire crackled softly, and you could feel the warmth radiating from it, mirroring the warmth blooming in your chest.

“I need time.” Namjoon’s expression shifted, his jaw tightening slightly as he processed your words. But he didn’t let go of your hands. Instead, he brought them to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles, his gaze unwavering.

“Time,” he echoed, the word almost foreign as it left his mouth. “You already had plenty of time.” The firelight cast shadows across his face, emphasizing the intensity etched into every line.

“You think time will change how you feel? Or how much I want you?” You felt a tremor run through you at the weight of his words. It was suffocating and yet strangely comforting, like a trap laced with silk, binding you softly but securely.

“No, Namjoon, I’m just—” Namjoon’s fingers brushed along your jawline, tipping your face up so that you met his gaze directly.

“I get that this must be overwhelming for you, but the time you are asking for is already up and done—”

“I didn’t know it was ticking,” you began, voice barely more than a whisper. Namjoon tilted his head, studying you, his lips quirking into a small, almost understanding smile.

“No more hidden exits, no more plans to escape. I want you here, with me, committed… without looking for a way out. And in return, I’ll take care of you and your father. That’s my promise to you.”

The warmth in his eyes almost made you believe that he meant well, that beneath the possessive intensity was a genuine desire to protect and love. Yet a lingering voice inside you warned that this love would be an all-consuming fire—one that would consume every part of you until there was nothing left to call your own.

Your mind was racing for the answer. If you say yes, you may as well forget who you were, but perhaps you will find yourself where you always wanted to be. Someone. But what if you say no?

“What if I won’t agree, Namjoon?” You asked, scared for the answer. Namjoon’s gaze darkened, the softness slipping away as his grip tightened just enough for you to feel the control he had over the situation. He leaned in, his lips grazing your ear, his voice a low murmur that sent a shiver down your spine.

"Peaches, let's not pretend that you really have a choice here." His tone was calm, as if explaining something simple, obvious, like the inevitability of night following day.

"Your father," he began slowly, each word dripping with calculated weight, "he's in no position to take care of himself, is he? Without you, what would he do? You've been carrying his burden for years, haven't you? Always working to support him, protecting him, making sure he's safe…"

His voice lowered, softening almost to a whisper, but it was filled with a quiet menace. "But if you refuse me… well, who do you think is going to keep him safe then?"

You felt your heart hammer in your chest, dread creeping into every corner of your mind as you took in his words. This was the second time he was threatening your father.

"What is wrong with you?" You said coldly, staring daggers at his pretty face.

"What's wrong with me?" he echoed, voice laced with a faint, mocking laugh. "I'm doing what needs to be done, Peaches. I'm making sure you understand the lengths I'm willing to go to keep you by my side. You think I'd just stand by and watch you slip away? Again?"

He reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, his touch featherlight but loaded with a silent threat. "I know you love your father," he murmured, voice a dangerous purr. "And that's why I'm reminding you of what's at stake."

You felt anger and fear twist inside you. He let his hand fall, watching your reaction with unsettling calmness, as if daring you to resist. Namjoon had you cornered, and he knew it. Every ounce of control you'd thought you held slipped further from your grasp, his quiet threats carving invisible chains around you.

"Why would you put me in this position?" He sighed, his lips curving into a faint, almost pitying smile as he tilted his head, studying you.

"Because I've been loving you for years, and when I can finally have you, you are trying toplay feminist."

The words hit you like a slap, raw and stinging. You swallowed, unable to look away from the intensity in his eyes. That faint smile on his lips held no warmth; it was twisted with something darker, something possessive.

"Play feminist?" you echoed, your voice wavering with anger and disbelief. "Namjoon, wanting to make my own choices doesn't mean I'm defying you or 'playing' anything. It means I'm a person, with my own will—"

He cut you off, a low chuckle escaping his lips as he shook his head slowly, almost as if you'd amused him.

“Peaches, you still don’t understand, do you? I’m offering you a world where you’re safe, where you don’t have to fight every day to survive. You’d rather keep struggling, keep pretending you’re content living in that cramped one bedroom apartment while your father brings home beer money when you are fighting off every hardship, and here I am, ready to give you the life you deserve.”

His fingers gripped your chin firmly, forcing you to meet his gaze as he leaned in, his voice barely above a whisper but laced with conviction.

“You think you want freedom, independence. But freedom isn’t safe, Peaches. Freedom won’t love you like I do. It won’t sacrifice or protect. It won’t give you everything at the cost of its own soul.”

He released you, letting his hand fall away, his gaze darkening. “This isn’t some game, and it isn’t about principles. It’s about us. And if that means you have to surrender some of that so-called independence, then so be it. I know what’s best for you, Peaches. You just need to stop fighting and see that.”

Namjoon’s gaze shifted to something darker, more resolute, as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a small velvet box. The firelight glinted off the soft pink morganite stone, antique piece that must have been in his kin for decades, its delicate beauty a stark contrast to the intensity in his eyes. He held it up, his jaw set, the unspoken command clear in the way he presented it to you.

“Peaches,” he murmured, his voice dangerously calm, “will you marry me?”

Before you could even think to pull away, he took your hand firmly, holding it in place as he slid the ring onto your finger. It was cold against your skin, the weight of it foreign and heavy.

“Say yes.” His voice was low, steady, a dangerous edge lurking beneath the calm exterior. His eyes bore into yours, unwavering, challenging you to defy him. “Say it, Peaches. Agree to be mine, completely, or I’ll make sure you lose everything you’ve been holding onto.”

You felt trapped, his hand tightening around yours as if to remind you of his control over the situation. Your heart raced, your throat dry, as the words hovered on the edge of your lips, unable to escape. But he didn’t let go, his fingers pressing into your skin with an unyielding determination.

“Say it,” he repeated, his voice firmer this time, the softness slipping into something harder, more commanding.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, a feeling of resignation sinking deep into your chest as you stared at the ring, its delicate beauty now a symbol of your surrender.

“Yes,” you whispered, the word barely escaping your lips.

A smile spread across Namjoon’s face, slow and triumphant, as he released your hand, the weight of the ring now settling fully onto your finger. He cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing away the tear that had slipped free, his touch gentle yet possessive.

“There,” he murmured, his voice soft but laced with satisfaction.

“That’s my good girl.”

"Where's my bag?" you start sharply the moment Namjoon walks in, shrugging off the coat from his so-called 'business meeting.' You were obviously not allowed to sit in because women here do not work once they have a ring on their finger. Not like you are dying to be a part of a criminal syndicate that has its roots deeply set in this society. The air between you two is thick, a palpable tension that crackles like static before a storm.

"I looked everywhere, but I cannot seem to find it—"

Successful distilleries may be carrying the Jung name, yet other family members have their own shares of the money capital of the clan, Namjoon not being an exception. His name is presented on each brandy bottle you have had the chance to pour from. But what actually lies under the façade of crystal-clear bottles of whiskey and brandy remains unknown to the upper world.

When you met Namjoon, you didn't see a crime lord. You saw a man with ambition, with a drive that matched yours. But somewhere along the line, his ambition became chains around your wrists, tying you to a life you never chose. That's when you decided that working in Anubis would be only a "college" solution before you would leave the city.

He raises an eyebrow, his expression a mix of surprise and annoyance. "What bag?"

"You know exactly which bag," you snap, stepping closer. Namjoon's eyes darken, his jaw tightening.

"How about we start on lunch?" he suggests, trying to ignore your pleas.

"No," you insist, voice trembling with anger. "I want my bag. I want my money."

"I thought we had settled this last night, didn't we?" he says, his voice low and dangerous.

Your blood boils at his dismissive tone. "Settled? You think you can just placate me and everything will be fine? That money is mine, Namjoon. I earned it."

He steps closer, his presence intimidating but you hold your ground. "Peaches, you ought to be my wife, what's mine is yours. You don't need that money."

You stand firm, not backing down. "Need it or not, it's mine. I worked for it, Namjoon."

Namjoon's eyes narrow, a dangerous glint in them. "You think you can just walk out with that money? You think you can use it to just leave?"

"No, I—" Namjoon steps forward, his eyes cold and calculating. You feel a surge of anger, your hands clenching into fists. "I earned that money, and I deserve to use it as I see fit."

"If you want to spend money, we can go shopping—" His presence overwhelming and oppressive. His words angering you even more.

"SHOPPING?! Are you fucking serious? This isn't about buying things, Namjoon. This is about my life, my choices."

Before you can continue your rambling, he grabs your wrist and pulls you close, his grip like iron. His lips crash onto yours in a bruising, dominating kiss, meant to remind you of his power over you. You struggle, but his hold is unyielding, leaving you breathless and dizzy.

"If you're gonna drop that honorific one more time—" Namjoon's eyes blaze with fury as he keeps you close, his grip almost painful.

"I won't—" you spit out, defiance still burning in your eyes despite the fear gnawing at your insides. "If you give me my money back. I have a right to it." Namjoon laughs coldly, shaking his head.

"Let's just have lunch, Peaches, before I lose my patience completely—" he says, his voice dripping with condescension. You glare at him, refusing to back down.

"Not until you give me my money back." His expression hardens, the cold amusement vanishing.

"You really want to push this, don't you?"

"Yes," you say, your voice unwavering. "Favor for favor, isn't it the mantra y'all go by?" A smirk playing on his lips when you finish the sentence.

"Everything you need, I provide." You take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart.

"I worked for that money, Namjoon. I deserve to have control over it."

He steps closer again, his eyes dancing with amusement as he looks down at you. "Control? You want control? Fine," he says, his voice dripping with condescension.

"I've deposited them into an account I opened in your name, joint with mine, naturally," he says, his words carrying that same cool, possessive edge.

"What?" you gasp, your disbelief palpable. "You what?"

"I will give you your black card," he repeats, his lips curling into a taunting smile "—once you prove not to be a flight risk, baby." Namjoon tilts his head, the smirk never fading. This, in essence, means that every single transaction will be noticed. You will withdraw the money from the card—he will know. You will attempt to transfer them to a different account? He will fucking know. The implications hitting you like a gut punch. Your blood runs cold as his words sink in.

"I'm not stupid, Peaches. I know that we gotta work on our relationship." He steps even closer, his gaze intense, pinning you in place. "Let's work on that trust first, and then you can have money at your disposal."

Your heart beats in your throat, the frustration boiling beneath the surface. Trust? The word feels like a cruel joke coming from him.Trust?

"I'm not one of your assets, Namjoon," you spit out, your voice thick with defiance. "And I won't be treated like one." His towering form casting a shadow over you, and for a moment, his eyes soften, as if he's pitying you.

"You don't have a choice, baby." His tone shifts again, dripping with that same chilling calm.

"When you prove you can stay and play nice, then maybe, just maybe, I'll let you have some freedom with your own damn money." And just like that, he's already begun dictating the terms of your life again, his grip on you tighter than ever before.

The missing duffle bag with your money was among the least of your worries when you realized what else the duffle bag possessed.

"You have my passport, Namjoon, how can I run away?" Namjoon's eyes flicker, the amusement fading slightly, but his smirk doesn't falter. He's been expecting this—he always expects everything.

Namjoon's smile is slow, deliberate, almost cruel. "I've taken what I need to keep you close." Namjoon leans in, his breath warm against your ear, his voice low and dangerous.

"But I am not underestimating your spirit."

You're nauseous, the implication of his words settling over you like a weight you can't shake off. He is holding the strings to everything, but that only made you realize that you had a hell of a lot of thinking and plotting to do to get out of here. And the most intrusive thought back in your head, where you consider staying here and embracing this finally official relationship, has to go—quickly.

"So, what now?" you ask, voice trembling despite your best effort to keep it steady. "You plan on keeping me locked up forever, Namjoon-oppa?" Namjoon only smiles, cold and confident.

"No baby. But I will keep you very close, until I can trust you." Your skin prickles where his fingers brush, but you don't pull away. You can't. The need to stay composed, to not give him the satisfaction of seeing you break, fights against the rising tide of rage and fear in your chest.

"And what do you want me to do to earn it, Namjoon?" you ask, your voice steady despite the turmoil roiling inside you. "Beg? Crawl? Pretend everything is fine when it's not?" He tilts his head, studying you like a puzzle he's piecing together in real time. The silence that follows is thick with tension. He stands so close now that you can feel the heat of his body against yours.

"So, lunch it is then?"

His tone is mockingly light, but there's a sharp edge beneath it when he tries to abandon the conversation, the kind that makes you feel trapped.

The black Mercedes hums smoothly along the Bronx streets, its sleek exterior reflecting the gray clouds above. It's going to snow any day now. Inside, the air is thick with tension, an unspoken understanding between the two passengers.

You sit in the backseat, your fingers nervously gripping the edge of your dress, the smooth fabric barely registering under your touch. Your sunglasses hide the unease in your eyes, but the tightness in your chest is something you can't disguise.

Today feels different.

Namjoon sits beside you in the backseat, his gaze fixed ahead, while his hand is warm on your thigh. You are staring at your shoes. Isn't this what you wanted? To ride in an expensive car, wearing Saint Laurent pointy-toed heels? A form-fitting dress with a high neck reveals your figure subtly, and the hungry look Namjoon gave you when you stepped out of the wardrobe did not go unnoticed. Something feels different, as if you're playing dress-up. The allure of the life Namjoon offers, it all feels strangely distant.

You eye him carefully—his black turtleneck is tailored to fit perfectly, sleek and minimalistic. Over it, a black suit jacket, structured but not overly stiff, gives him a commanding presence. His black slacks match the simplicity and power of his look, polished and clean.

The cold air bites against your skin, and you instinctively pull your coat tighter around your shoulders, trying to shield yourself from the chill that seems to creep through the thin fabric of your dress.

"Thank you for letting me see my father," you whisper, your voice barely audible, yet heavy with meaning.

"You don't have to thank me—" he says quietly, his voice low, almost intimate. His gaze doesn't soften, but there's something in the way he stands, commanding yet calm, that makes your heart race. The chill of the early morning seems to deepen, pressing in on you, yet you're acutely aware of the warmth of his presence, the heat of his body just a little too close.

"I couldn't have kept you from seeing him," Namjoon continues, his tone flat, as if he's simply stating a fact.

"But keep in mind that this is a privilege—you misbehave, you won't see him." His eyes lock with yours, not with malice, but with a cold certainty that makes your heart flutter uncomfortably in your chest. The last thing you want now is to provoke him further, to find out just how far his power reaches.

"Engaged?!" disbelief and shock etched into the features of your father when you sat down at the kitchen table after you collected some of the things you wished to take with you. You nod, your heart racing.

"Yes, Dad. It just happened. I wanted you to know first." Your father's gaze shifts to Namjoon, his face a storm of emotions—anger, disbelief, worry.

"Peaches, do you know what you're doing? This man is nearly a decade older than you," he whispers your way, his voice trembling with concern.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "I know, Dad. It's a lot to take in, but Namjoon and I—we're serious about this." You never knew how good you were at lying until today. Your father's eyes narrow, his gaze flicking between you and Namjoon.

"When did this relationship even happen? Is he holding you against your will?!" he demands, his tone a mix of frustration and disbelief. Your smile freezes for a moment, and you try your best not to give yourself away.

"No, Dad, that happens only in movies," you reply, attempting a light-hearted tone to deflect his suspicion. Maybe this is what Namjoon meant by earning trust.

Your father's gaze remains hard, but he doesn't push further. Instead, he turns to Namjoon, his voice cold and edged with protectiveness. "You better take care of her, Namjoon. If anything happens to her, I won't forgive you."

Namjoon smiles proudly at you, almost missing your father's harsh words. His confidence in you seems unshaken.

"You have my word," he replies simply, and you take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, staring at the shiny peachy morganite.

You were never religious enough to step foot in a church after you were christened as a baby. Your parents were indifferent to faith, more focused on the struggles of daily life than spiritual obligations. But your now husband-to-be came from very religious kin, and he himself was a God's worshipper. Ironic enough when he managed to break the Ten Commandments before sipping his morning coffee.

His family, deeply rooted in tradition and devout faith, expected nothing less than a grand celebration steeped in religious customs. The thought of walking down an aisle, flanked by stained glass and the scent of incense, felt foreign and overwhelming.

The morning sun poured into the grand church, illuminating the ornate stained glass that depicted scenes of devotion and reverence. As you and Namjoon stepped through the heavy wooden doors, a wave of warmth enveloped you, mingling with the scent of polished wood and candle wax. It felt like stepping into another world, one where faith and family intertwined seamlessly.

You could see familiar faces sitting on the wooden benches. Kim Taehyung smirking your way when he glanced at your hand interlocked with Namjoon's. He was sitting next to Mr. Jung, whom you recognized by his mullet, and the next seat was occupied by the one and only Mrs. Jung, whom you hadn't seen for a good amount of time. There were also some faces that you did not recognize, yet they still felt familiar to you. You couldn't help but notice the way the Kims and Jungs interacted, the warmth of their bonds evident in the way they smiled, laughed, and shared stories during the prayers. Their camaraderie was infectious, and for a fleeting moment, you found yourself longing for that sense of belonging.

As the service began, the congregation settled into a peaceful quiet, the sounds of rustling papers and shifting bodies fading into the background. The priest took his place at the altar, his voice echoing through the high ceilings as he began to speak about love, commitment, and the sacred bonds of marriage. Each word resonated deeply within you, pulling at your heartstrings as you thought of your impending union. As it was explained to you, this Mass was held as the announcement of your engagement—one of many traditions they had.

Namjoon sat beside you, his presence a constant reminder of the promise you had made. You could feel his gaze on you, intense and unwavering, as if he were silently urging you to embrace this new chapter of your life. But the weight of that ring on your finger felt heavier than ever in this moment.

"Love is not merely a feeling; it's a choice," the priest's voice boomed, and you glanced at Namjoon, catching the flicker of expectation in his eyes. "It's a daily commitment to one another, a promise to uphold each other through trials and triumphs alike."

You shifted in your seat, feeling the heat of his gaze on you like a physical presence. You wondered if love really was a choice—or if, in your case, it was a bargain made under duress. Namjoon's grip on your hand tightened ever so slightly, a subtle reminder of the hold he had over your life.

This was the first time he took you out of the penthouse since the day you woke up in his bed for the first time. He simply did not trust you enough to go out in public with you just yet. Hence, his hand remained on yours in a very obsessive manner, as if you were to fly away at any moment.

The priest continued, "Marriage is a sacred bond, one that should be approached with reverence and care. It's not merely about sharing a life together but about supporting and uplifting one another, about being the anchor when the storms come." He paused, letting his words sink in.

Your mind wandered back to your father, the struggles he faced, and how Namjoon had used that vulnerability to secure your loyalty. The contrast between the priest's idealistic views on love and your reality felt stark. How could you ever find true happiness in a union that felt more like a transaction than a partnership? You were feeling heavy.

"And today," the priest announced, raising his voice slightly to draw everyone's attention, "we gather not only to worship but to celebrate the union of two souls destined to walk together."

Your breath caught in your throat, and a mix of emotions surged through you. Murmurs of congratulations rippled through the congregation, and you felt the weight of countless eyes on you, some filled with excitement, others with curiosity. Namjoon's grip on your hand tightened, his eyes gleaming with pride.

You could feel your cheeks flush as the reality of your situation sank in deeper. The ring on your finger felt like a shackle, the promises made a binding contract that left little room for your own desires.

"I—" you started, but the words felt stuck in your throat. "I need to go to the restroom, Namjoon."

His expression shifted, a flicker of concern crossing his face. "Now?" he asked, voice low enough that only you could hear, but firm enough to convey his displeasure. "We're in the middle of the service."

Namjoon hesitated, weighing your request against the backdrop of the ceremony. Finally, he released your hand but leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear. "Make it quick, baby."

You nodded, grateful for the small bit of freedom. Your Louboutin heels clicked against the marble floor, each step echoing like a drumbeat in the otherwise quiet sanctuary. The sound felt amplified in your ears, a reminder of the attention you were drawing as you navigated through the rows of wooden pews. You could feel the weight of curious gazes following you, some filled with anticipation, others with judgment. It was as if the congregation sensed the tension between you and Namjoon, the unspoken power dynamics playing out in real time.

You pushed open the restroom door and stepped inside. The fluorescent lights cast a stark glare, highlighting the contrast between the serenity of the service and the storm swirling within you.

Leaning against the sink, you took a moment to catch your breath. The reflection staring back at you was a mixture of uncertainty and defiance, a girl caught between two worlds.

"Why am I still here?" you whispered to your reflection, the question echoing back at you. You thought of the life you had envisioned for yourself, one filled with love, laughter, and independence, not one governed by fear and obligation.

"I fucked up." After a few deep breaths, you steadied yourself. You needed to return before he would throw a tantrum, as he loved to do whenever you were away from him for longer than ten minutes. Paranoid bastard. You glanced at your watch and noted that only a few minutes had passed. With a resigned sigh, you turned to leave, determination flooding your veins.

As you exited the restroom, you found Namjoon leaning against the wall outside, arms crossed and an expression that mixed concern and annoyance. His posture was protective, yet the underlying tension in his demeanor sent a shiver down your spine. He pushed himself from the wall only to walk towards you, making you take a few steps back into the restroom. His eyes never left yours even when he closed the door and locked it from inside, the sound echoing ominously in the small space.

The reality of your situation pressed down on you, an oppressive weight that made it hard to breathe. He moved closer, his eyes dark and intent.

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay," he replied when you asked him why he wasn't upstairs, his tone both soothing and authoritative.

"You know how important this day is, right? I can't have you slipping away from me."

You swallowed hard, trying to maintain your composure. "I'm fine. I just needed a moment," you insisted, but the way he watched you made it clear he wasn't convinced.

"You can be honest, Peaches," he said, his voice dropping to a lower, more serious tone. "You're in a room full of people celebrating our engagement, and yet you're out here trying to escape."

His words struck a nerve, and you crossed your arms defensively. "I'm not trying to escape," you shot back, though the lie tasted bitter on your tongue.

"Okay," he said calmly, staring intensely into your eyes, as if he was trying to read you. A small smirk played at the corners of his lips, but the tension in the air remained thick. You did not expect him to drop the topic that quickly.

"I just needed to collect my thoughts," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Okay," he murmured again. He stepped closer, closing the distance between you even more, his body radiating warmth that both comforted and unsettled you. He was standing there, inches away from you, yet he was not taking any action.

"W-why are you so calm, what are you doing, Namjoon?" you asked, trying to grasp his demeanor which you yet again did not understand.

"Waiting—"

"Can we just go back to the ceremony?" you whispered, your voice barely audible. Namjoon's smirk widened, and he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear.

"Not yet, my love," he whispered back, his voice low and husky. Namjoon's fingers traced the curve of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. "I longed to show you just who you belong to for years."

"You're fucking stunning, Peaches," he murmured, his lips brushing against your earlobe. Namjoon's fingers trailed down your chest, stopping just above your breasts. You felt a jolt of electricity run through your body, and you knew that you were in trouble.

"Namjoon," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "We can't do this here, we're in a church." You tried to push him away.

"You are something I can sin for," he whispered back, his voice low and seductive. You tried to pull away, but Namjoon held you firm, his grip unyielding.

"Namjoon, please," you whispered, your voice trembling with desire and apprehension.

But Namjoon was relentless, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin that left you quivering with pleasure. "You're mine, Peaches," he murmured, his lips trailing down your neck.

"And I'll do whatever it takes to keep it that way."

Namjoon's lips found yours, and he kissed you with a passion that left you breathless. His tongue danced with yours, and you felt your body respond to his every touch. As you kissed, Namjoon's hand slid between your legs, and he began to caress you through your dress. You gasped softly, your body arching into his touch, trembling with the sudden pleasure.

"Namjoon," you whispered urgently, "we have to stop." Your breath hitched as he pressed you against the mirror after he lifted you onto the counter, plunging himself between your legs.

"No, we don't," he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. "Not until I've claimed you as mine."

The church's silence seemed to amplify the intensity of the moment, and you felt like you were teetering on the edge of a cliff. His fingers traced the contours of your body, exploring every curve and crevice.

"What if someone hears?" you breathed again, desperation lacing your voice.

His lips paused just above your collarbone, and you could feel the heat radiating from him. As if the universe was playing by his rules, the choir started to sing. He chuckled.

"You're mine, Peaches. I won't let anyone take you away from me—not today, not ever." He captured your lips again, his kiss deepening with a fervor that ignited every nerve ending in your body.

His hands were exploring the curves of your thighs, lifting the hem of your dress higher as he pressed you firmly against the cold surface of the counter.

"Namjoon," you breathed, a mix of excitement and fear knotting in your stomach. "We can't…" you continued your protests.

"But we will." His fingers danced dangerously close to your most sensitive spots, teasing you with the promise of pleasure. You felt your resolve begin to crumble under his touch.

"I've waited too long for this," he murmured, voice a velvet whisper that wrapped around you like a lover's embrace.

"Namjoon," you gasped against his lips, torn between the heady rush of desire and the urgent need to pull back. But with each kiss, each exploration of his hands, your inhibitions began to melt away, surrendering to the intoxicating pull he had over you.

"Just let go," he urged, a soft growl escaping his lips as he pressed his body into yours, making you acutely aware of the hard length that pressed against your core.

"Trust me."

A wild, reckless part of you craved this intimacy, this connection that felt both exhilarating and terrifying. Your mind took you back to all those moments you shared that made your heart flutter and belly tight when you did not know why he made you feel that way.

You hesitated for a heartbeat, the weight of your reality pressing heavily on your conscience. His fingers found their way beneath your dress, inching higher until they brushed against your most sensitive skin. You gasped, arching your back involuntarily as pleasure surged through you, igniting a fire in your belly.

"Namjoon!" you cried out, a mixture of pleasure and panic lacing your voice.

"Shh, baby," he whispered, his lips trailing down your neck as he continued his teasing exploration. With a deft motion, he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your underwear, sliding them down your legs and tossing them aside as if they were nothing more than an afterthought. The cool air kissed your exposed skin, heightening your senses and making your breath hitch in your throat.

The air in the restroom felt thick with anticipation, each breath you took mingling with the scent of sandalwood and the faint musk of his skin.

“You’re breath-taking,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with desire.

His fingertips traced closer to where you needed him most, teasing you with the lightest of touches. You bit your lip, trying to suppress a moan that threatened to escape, the heat pooling deep within you almost overwhelming.

“Namjoon…” you whispered, half warning, half plea, torn between your desire for him and the reality of your surroundings.

“—and so wet for me.” He breathed against your skin, his breath sending sparks dancing along your nerves. His tongue danced with yours, a heated exploration that deepened your need for him. The world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you and the intoxicating chemistry that crackled between your bodies.

His fingers pressed against you, expertly coaxing soft moans from your lips as he slid one finger inside, filling you completely. You bit down on your lip to stifle your cries, but the pleasure was overwhelming, radiating out from the point of contact and pooling low in your stomach.

His eyes sparkled with a predatory intensity, relishing in your reaction. He watched you as if he were savouring a fine wine, taking his time to appreciate every detail of your response.

“Namjoon,” you gasped, your voice a fragile whisper, barely able to maintain any semblance of restraint.

“Oppa.” He growled. The way he said it—deep, possessive—made your heart race faster, each beat echoing in the stillness of the restroom. Namjoon’s fingers moved with a deliberate rhythm, curling inside you in a way that sent your mind spiralling.

“Tell me how good it feels,” he commanded, his tone a mix of sultry and demanding, eyes never leaving yours as he watched you unravel under his touch.

You hesitated for a moment, your breath coming in quick gasps as pleasure washed over you. “It feels… amazing,” you managed to whisper, the confession slipping past your lips like a sweet secret. You can regret this later.

“Good,” he murmured, the smirk on his face growing wider. “I want to hear every sound you make.”

His fingers moved faster, building the tension to a near unbearable level, each thrust sending you closer to the brink. The world around you faded completely, leaving just the two of you entwined in this stolen moment of passion, lost in the depths of one another.

“Namjoon. I can’t—” his hand smacked your ass and he deliberately slowed down.

“It’s oppa for you. Don’t make me repeat it again.”

The playful sting of his hand against your skin sent a rush of warmth coursing through you, mingling with the heat pooling low in your belly. His voice was firm, but beneath that authority was a hint of something deeper—a promise that ignited a wild excitement within you.

“Oppa,” you whispered breathlessly, the word slipping from your lips like a spell meant just for him.

He smiled, satisfied, and resumed his movements, fingers working expertly inside you again. The pressure built anew, the delightful tension sending electric shocks through your body.

“Good girl,” he praised, his breath hot against your ear. “I want to hear you, Peaches. Let me know how much you need me.”

With that, he quickened his pace, thrusting his fingers deeper, curling them just right. The overwhelming pleasure began to blur the edges of your consciousness, leaving only the sensations that centred on where he was buried within you. The heat intensified, building towards a sweet, dizzying peak, and you couldn’t help but surrender to it.

With a final flick of his fingers, he found that sweet spot inside you, driving you wild. Your body responded in kind, the sensations intertwining with your every thought. You could feel the tightening in your core, the unmistakable signal that you were teetering on the edge of bliss.

“Namjoon-oppa, I—” you gasped, words failing you as the pleasure escalated.

“Shh, just let it happen,” he murmured, his voice deep and soothing, anchoring you in the moment. His lips met yours in a heated kiss, swallowing your cries as the waves of ecstasy crashed over you.

"Oppa!" you cried against his mouth, unable to contain the raw need bursting forth from within. Your body trembled, the climax washing over you in a torrent of sensations, enveloping you completely as you surrendered to the bliss. The choir's distant hymns created an almost surreal backdrop to this heated encounter, mixing innocence with your burgeoning desire.

As the pleasure receded, leaving you breathless and dazed, Namjoon held you close, his arms encircling you like a protective cocoon. You leaned into him, heart racing and body tingling, reveling in the aftershocks of your release.

"See? That wasn't so hard, was it?" he teased, his voice low and playful, a wicked grin spreading across his lips. "To be mine."

Your blurry eyes lifted to look at him, taking him in while you were still panting from the rollercoaster of emotions he made you feel. Flickering down to his bulge covered by the fabric of his black suit pants from Ralph Lauren, your breath hitched again. Enough for him to move his hands to his belt, being absolutely ready to take you. Finally free of his belt, he pulled down his zipper. The fabric of his pants fell open, revealing the outline of his desire, bold and unmistakable.

The urgency of the moment wrapped around you like a tight embrace, making it hard to think straight. You glanced around, the restroom feeling impossibly small, every sound amplified.

"Oppa, please…" you breathed, your heart racing as you tried to pull away, but the undeniable hunger in his gaze anchored you in place. You could see the determination etched on his face, the way his jaw tightened with lust. He had a plan, and it made your pulse quicken. You were not sure what you were begging for—to stop or to continue?

If not for the soft knock on the door, he would have taken you right there, on the church's restroom counter. It jolted you both, pulling you back to the reality of your surroundings. A rush of panic surged through you, and you instinctively glanced around the cramped restroom, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Oppa," you whispered again, this time a plea laced with desire and uncertainty.

He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear. "Just a little longer," he promised, his fingers finding their way back to your thighs, gripping you tightly as if to keep you anchored to the moment.

"Just one more time," he urged, his voice thick with need. "I need to feel you—"

"Hyung, I know you will kill me for this, but you need to come back upstairs." The voice—familiar and insistent—cut through the haze of desire that had enveloped you both.

Namjoon's expression flickered from lust to annoyance, his grip on you tightening slightly as if to remind you that this moment was still theirs, even if the world outside was intruding.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, his frustration palpable. The intensity in his gaze shifted, but it didn't fade. Instead, it turned into something more predatory, a simmering heat that promised this wasn't over.

"We'll be right there!" He shouted back to the voice behind the door. His eyes slowly returned to watch you and your disheveled form after he fingered the fuck out of you.

He leaned in, his lips capturing yours once more, and it felt like time stood still. The world around you blurred, and for that moment, it was just the two of you—lost in a whirlwind of passion that defied the reality waiting outside the door.

His forehead remained pressed on yours when he whispered to your lips. “Next time, we won’t be so rushed, I promise.” Pecking your lips, he quickly pulled his pants back up, securing his belt with a swift motion, yet the heat of the moment lingered between you both.

The calm shattered in an instant.

The heavy church door burst open with a deafening crash. Armed men in tactical gear stormed in with raised weapons, their shouts filling the air. Namjoon immediately pushed you behind him, his eyes scanning the chaotic scene with deadly focus.

The thunderous crack of gunfire echoed off the stone walls as the air filled with the acrid smell of gunpowder. Namjoon drew a gun from beneath his jacket—like several other family men in attendance—his movements swift and practiced. He returned fire, the muzzle flash illuminating his determined face in bursts of light.

Your heart pounded in your chest like a drum of terror and adrenaline. Huddled behind an overturned pew, you clutched your ears against the deafening noise, eyes wide with shock and fear. Namjoon, breathing heavily, scanned the room one final time before turning to you, his eyes softening for a moment.

"Stay down!" he shouted, his voice barely audible above the chaos.

"Jungkook, get them out!" Namjoon barked, his eyes fixed on the fight.

He reached your side, pulling you up by the arm. Jungkook's grip was firm yet reassuring.

"Come on," he urged, his voice a steady anchor amid the storm of violence. He led you through the chaos, his body shielding you from the worst of the gunfire.

Just as you neared the side door, a sharp pain exploded in your side. You stumbled, a cry of agony escaping your lips. The world seemed to slow, the sounds of battle muffled by the roaring in your ears. Looking down, you saw blood spreading across your dress, the pain intensifying with each heartbeat.

"Peaches!"

.

.

.

.

.

𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐞𝐝

©pennyellee. please do not repost

tag list: @hecateslittlewitchling - @ratprincessnr1 - @originalbiscuitfiredreamer - @mggv97 - @urlovelily - @ilys00ga - @beautifulcloudfestival - @herareila @mar-lo-pap

Don't be a silent reader, let's be friends chummers! ♥

see you next time, love, p.

[rafeyscurtainbangs]

Some sticky sweet frat!rafe x sorority!reader smut for day 21! Coming Tomorrow 💕🩷

+18 unedited sneak peek

“Rafe!” You hear someone yell for him across the room. Someone calls your name quickly after. Rafe ignores it, letting his lips brush against your neck, nuzzling his beautiful face closer to take in your sweet perfume.

“You’re the prettiest girl here, you know that,” he mumbles. You let out a breathy giggle, which only excites him more; Rafe pulls you closer, pressing a kiss against your neck, making your head fall slightly, hoping he’ll do it again. “Fuck you look good, sweetheart.”

“Rafe!” They try again. The two of you look out into the living room at a group of friends gathered around. One of the girls drains the rest of the bottle of champagne, dumping it upside down to show that it’s empty.

“Come on! We’re playing spin the bottle,” your friend sings, giving the two of you a come hither motion.

Rafe leans back, letting out a low laugh. His smile is slow and wicked, his eyes flickering with amusement. “Spin the bottle?” He quips. “What is this, middle school?”

”Come on,” she gripes. “Have a little fun.”

You stand up off the couch. Rafe throws his head back with a light, frustrated laugh, knowing he could get a kiss regardless—the two of you seconds away from sealing the deal. He returns his eyes to your body, his feet trailing from the toe of your heels up your legs, roaming up your thighs, lingering on your hips and your waist before getting lost on your tits. “Rafe,” you giggle, and he lifts his lust-hazed eyes to yours.

“Yeah, Baby?” He asks, so shamelessly checking you out you didn’t even need to bring it up. ”Did I tell you you look stunning tonight?” He asks dreamily. You throw your gaze away for a moment, smiling dizzily before returning your eyes to his.

“Not yet-”

”Liar,” he stops you with a laugh, his deep voice making you swoon. Rafe’s lips tug at the corner, his smirk almost predatory as he stares at you. “You know no one’s kissin’ you but me, right?”

You reach your hand out, and he rises to his feet. He pulls you in again, making you gasp as from his heavy hand on your body, his lips impossibly close to yours. “You’re not kissing anyone else but me, Rafe,” you whisper.

“Mhmm…” He wets his lip and smiles. “That’s my girl.”

It’s taking everything inside you to keep from rising on your tippy toes, claiming his lips in that moment. That little title is doing nothing but making it much harder to wait.

[notwithoutafight]

List of posts from 2024-2022 that Daniel deleted/archived on Instagram ⬇️

[there are probably other posts I couldn't find, sorry about that. the links are from tumblr blogs and a couple from twitter. unfortunately, I realized way too late that I didn't keep track of the sources, so I can't list them here, apologies again!]

Unfortunately we just didn’t have the pace this weekend. Fortunately, Singapore is a few days away (Azerbaijan 2024 - September 16, 2024)

Pizza. And some racing (Monza 2024 - September 2, 2024)

Got the most out of the car and myself yesterday, but unfortunately we just lacked overall performance. We’ll get it sorted for Austria 👊🏼 (Barcelona 2024 - July 24, 2024)

Tricky day. But feeling fast. Bring on Sunday (Hungary 2024 - July 20, 2024)

Celebrating 20 years of Red Bull Racing. No 🎂 for me though, just some 🍩 (Goodwood 2024 - July 14, 2024)

Challenging day, some issues in FP2 held us back. Looking forward to tomorrow - rain, hail, shine or whatever 🇬🇧 summer brings! (Silverstone 2024 - July 5, 2024)

Sweet sweet syrup (Canada 2024 - June 6, 2024)

Q3. Good job team. Ciao. (Imola 2024 - May 18, 2024)

Miami 24’ 🎨 Let’s get it 😈 (Miami 2024 - May 2, 2024)

Close to Q3 but all in all not a bad day. Bring on tomorrow. (Suzuka 2024 - April 6, 2024)

The game was right there, can you blame me? (F1 24 ad - March 15, 2024)

3️⃣ (VCARB photoshoot - February 9, 2024)

Honda thanks day 😊🇯🇵 (Honda Thanks Day 2023 - December 3, 2023)

2023. A unique year! But found what I was looking for and very happy for that. Yesterday we celebrated Franz even if he hated every second of it, but his contribution to this team over the years, his pure passion for the sport is something that can only be admired. Thank you Franz!! (Abu Dhabi 2023 - November 27, 2023)

Was fast. But a lap down 🤷🏻‍♂️... team did a great job repairing the wing. Wish they would’ve got rewarded. On to Vegas. Still having fun 😊 (Brazil 2023 - November 5, 2023)

Great weekend from start to finish. Very happy 😊 Grazie @.alphataurif1 (Mexico 2023 - October 29, 2023)

Tough day, some damage on the car cost us pretty big unfortunately. It’s the way it goes, Austin you always have my heart. Until next year. Hook ‘em 🤘 (COTA 2023 - October 22, 2023)

Another day on the sim. Getting closer. See y’all in Austin. (Sim work selfie at Milton Keynes - October 5, 2023)

Full circle (Selfie at the factory in Faenza - July 15, 2023)

Bonjour Monaco (Selfie at Monaco - May 27, 2023)

Weekend 🙃 (Miami 2023 - May 8, 2023)

Don’t leave me hangin 🙃 (Seat fitting, Red Bull garage, Australia 2023 - March 31, 2023)

Great night with @.okx_official. Excited to visit their new office in Oz when it opens 👏🏼 (OKX Event with Scotty, Australia 2023 - March 29, 2023)

We made the last Q3 of the year. Was worth a smile 🙃 (Abu Dhabi 2022 - November 19, 2022)

Mehico (Mexico 2022 - November 1, 2022)

[Not sure if this was a post or a Story, sorry] (COTA 2022 - October 20, 2022)

School in session ✏️ (LA - October 18, 2022)

Tokyo traditions. It’s good to be back! (Dinner with Felipe Massa Japan 2022 - October 4, 2022)

Chillin (Photo at the beach with Isaac and Isabella - September 27, 2022)

Singapore sweat baby sweat prep. I also have no idea what’s going on back there. [Not sure if he posted it on Instagram or only on Facebook] (Selfie with Michael - September 19, 2022)

The mini masterpiece is finally here. (2022 mini helmets - September 6, 2022)

What a legend. Happy retirement mate. (Photos of Vettel after his retirement announcement - July 28, 2022)

😊 (Baku 2022 - June 11, 2022)

Seat time Miami style (Sea-Doo Ad - May 5, 2022)

Miami. We made it. (Dinner with girlfriend and friends. I believe this was the first photo he posted with Heidi, Miami 2022 - May 4, 2022)

Good start to the weekend. FEA. (Imola 2022 -  April 22, 2022)

Alright first Q3 of the year. Not a bad place to do it 😊🇦🇺 (Australia 2022 - April 9, 2022)

G’day. Fun Friday. Good to be back 🐨🦘(Australia 2022 - April 8, 2022)

Shame  we didn’t finish but all in all a better weekend and making steps in  the right direction. We’ll keep at it! Got to watch the last few laps  for the win also, great battle, these cars are pretty awesome going  wheel to wheel this year 😌 next stop, Melbourne! (Jeddah 2022 - March 29, 2022)

Better this week than next…. Unfortunate to miss the test, but I'm starting to feel better. I'll stay isolated and just focus on next weekend. Appreciate the well wishes from everyone as well. (Selfie when he tested positive for Covid, Testing 2022 - March 11, 2022)

Too good not to share. What a record Gang of Youths! (March 4, 2022)

212 laps in a day and a half! Solid start @.mclaren (Testing 2022 - February 26, 2022)

Just happy flying the flag for Australia. Really appreciate the recognition. You can take the boy out of Oz but you can’t… anyway haha big thanks to everyone 🦘🐨 (At the farm, winter ummer break 2022 - January 25, 2022)

[monstersflashlight]

Advent calendar: Day 18. Holiday knot

Yeti x fem!reader || semi-public sex, oral sex, knotting

You had a great idea for your anniversary. Since you married your yeti husband, you’d been trying to get him to chase you through the woods, but seeing as it was mid December and the temperatures would probably kill you if you ran naked… You decided to make it special in other ways.

You wore a nice coat, the longest one you had, with extra padding on the inside so you’d be warm no matter what. And under it you wore… almost nothing. You bought the naughty lingerie so long ago you almost forgot you had it, but at the last second you put it on and walked to his office as a normal day. You had dinner with him once a week, always on Wednesdays, and he was always waiting for you.

But this time around you had a bit of a surprise.

You opened the door to his office and closed behind you, making sure the blindfolds were down and the secretary left for her lunch. He was on a call you weren’t too interested in, you could only focus on the feel of the coat against your naked skin and the way your heart was trying to escape from your chest.

Even from afar he was magnificent, giant and furry and so incredibly beautiful in his monster features that you were dripping wet even before he even breathed in your direction. You’d never felt so strongly about any human, but as soon as you met him… you were done for good. Forget human tiny dicks, who wanted that when you could have giant ridged dicks that knotted you until you were dripping cum for hours after?

You were a bit nervous, you knew he’d love your surprise, but you were way past your honeymoon phase and maybe office sex wasn’t on his kink-list… Maybe.

“Well, hello there, wife,” he greeted you in his most cheerful rough voice, making you shiver.

It was now or never.

You slipped the upper part of your coat down your shoulders, exposing the red lingerie framing your tits in the most amazing way. He choked on a breath, and that encouraged you. You let the coat fall to the floor, pooling at your feet as you blinked slowly at him. And you realized the exact moment when he saw the mistletoe adorning your panties.

In a flash, literally the time it took for you to blink, he had jumped over the table and was crowding you, his giant sized body pulling you up and against the door. You shivered in anticipation, his rough breathing matching your accelerated heartbeat.

He bit down on your neck playfully. “You smell like cookies, wife…” He rumbled against your ear. That meant you were excited, that you were aroused, he loved the smell of cookies as much as he loved the smell of your horniness. “You came here wanting to be ravished by a monster?” He teased, his voice amused but his dick very hard under your barely covered ass.

Your nerves got the best of you when you answered: “Really? If you… If you want to...”

He pulled back a fraction, his big white inhuman eyes looking straight into yours, almost shocked when he deadpanned: “Do I want to fuck my wife in my desk? Yes. What kind of question is that?”

“I- I didn’t know if you’d be up for it,” you confessed, feeling shy all of sudden.

“Wife, I’ve wanted to fuck you over that desk since the first time you came to have lunch with me. And you are making my fantasies come true right now, you are the bestest of wives,” he said between soft kisses around your face, making you giggle with his sudden affection.

But it wasn’t all that soft, his dick was pressing insistently against your ass and you wriggled your bottom until he was whimpering, his strong arms holding you up as he walked to the desk and sat you there. He kissed you softly on the lips, and then sat down on his chair, legs open and erection very clear in his slacks. Fuck, he looked good enough to eat with his fur peaking through the buttons of his shirt, sleeves rolled up…

But he was only staring at you, not doing anything. “Aren’t you going to fuck me?” You asked, a bit confused at the situation.

“Oh, yes… I’m definitely going to. But first: lunch.” That was all he said before his face was buried in your pussy as he pushed the panties to the side, not even taking them off.

He devoured your center with desperation, with a hunger so primal and deep that you didn’t know if you would survive. It was the best oral sex ever, and he had just started. He kept grunting and moaning against your sex, his furry face getting messy with your juices as he enjoyed himself. You could only hold onto his hair and pull every time he tried to get a breath in between licks. You didn’t care if he breathed or not, you only needed him against your pussy, his fingers playing dexterously with your clit.

“I’m- I’m gonna…!” You tried to warn, but you were too slow.

The orgasm crashed into you like a tidal wave as your body convulsed over the desk, his hands holding you down as you knocked a few things off the table. He only chuckled against your pussy, probably not caring you were destroying some important documents.

He pulled back, whipping your juices away from his chin and licking his fingers clean. That movement was so hot that you whimpered as he smirked at you. He knew what he was doing.

“Now the main course,” he said, ripping the panties off and pressing the tip of his cock against your entrance. You groaned whorishly and he smirked again, his fangs so big you couldn’t suppress a shiver.

You thought he would push inside in one go, but he chose a tortuous pace, his dick breaching you so slowly and thoroughly that you could feel him everywhere at once. His hands were on your boobs, on your ass, on your clit… And his dick kept going deeper and deeper. Your brain was barely functioning at that point, not caring about the noise of the possibility of someone finding you. You could only focus on the way he felt against you.

But once he bottomed out, there was no place for soft sex anymore. He started a rough pace, fucking in and out of you with the desperation of a husband in his anniversary. With the desperation of a yeti who found his mate in the middle of a big city. With the hunger of a monster in need of his bride. And you ate it up, matching his noises and groans, moving against his body until you were both sweaty and your lingerie was probably beyond repair.

But you didn’t fucking care.

It felt so good. It felt too good.

“I’m going to knot you,” he warned.

“But we- Someone could...” you tried to argue without much strength. You wanted it. You wanted it more than anything. You needed it like you needed breathing.

“Let them,” he grunted. The rough tone and the way his dick hit your G-spot just right at the same time his thumb rubbed your clit was enough to send you over the edge once again. “Fuck, so tight, so good…”

He kept chanting how good your pussy was when you felt the erratic thrusts and the beginning of his knot at your entrance. He pushed one last time before it fully developed inside of you, locking you two together as he came over and over inside your welcoming heat.

His body was holding you down as you breathed calmly, his dick still twitching inside of you as he kept coming and coming. You knew this would take a while, and you were more than content to just wait it out. It felt great to have him inside, almost like cockwarming but… bigger. Maybe you should try cockwarming next.

“Stop thinking so hard,” he complained against your neck, landing a few soft kisses and scratching you with his fangs, making you shiver.

By the time his knot went down, you felt almost coherent again, but when you got up and felt the first gush of cum out of you, you were already thinking if he could fuck you again soon. You were about to tease him to get a rise out of him when he beat you to it.

“Are you going to walk back home with my cum leaking down your tights?” He asked as you put your coat back on, hiding your body from him. There was an edge to his voice that you couldn’t quite place.

“I’m going to the car and then I’ll drive home,” you explained, a smirk on your lips when you realized what he wanted. “Do you want me to plug myself and wait until you get home?” You asked back, a blush covering your cheeks as his eyes turned big, his dick filling inside his slacks once more.

“Fuck. Yes,” he groaned. “I’d be there as soon as possible, I just have one meeting.”

“Don’t be late or I’ll start without you, I bought a new toy…” You commented before closing the door, laughing when you heard the curse behind you.

You didn’t get to the elevator before his big body was hoisting you up between giggles and walking to the stairs with you over his shoulder. “Forget the meeting, forget the elevator, I need you in our bed ASAP,” he roared as you laughed.

[holylulusworld]

How to cure a grump (1)

Summary: You're losing your job on Christmas.

Pairing: CEO/Boss!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, grumpy Bucky, awful boss

“Santa Claus is coming to town,” you sing along to the song blaring from your phone. You’re, as so often, the last one at the office.

Before the holidays, most of your colleagues try to get out of the office as early as possible. They have better plans than to work like busy ants two days before Christmas.

Sadly, you didn’t get to leave on the clock. Your boss demanded your attention. You couldn’t join your colleagues at the little Christmas party you organized for weeks.

Now they will all exchange the Secret Santa gifts you got for most of them, drink eggnog, and sing awful Christmas songs while you are stuck here with your grumpy boss.

“Miss Y/L/N, I need the numbers now." Mr. Barnes doesn’t even walk toward your desk. He simply barks orders your way.

You heave out a sigh and glance at the stack of papers on your desk. Before you get up to hand Mr. Barnes the numbers he wanted you to finish before the holidays, you save your work.

Grabbing the papers, you silently pray that Mr. Barnes won’t come up with more tasks. It’s long past your work time, and you’re tired and cranky. You’ll need a good night’s sleep and at least a day off before driving home for Christmas.

“Miss Y/L/N,” he barks as you are already halfway toward his office. Mr. Barnes huffs as you stumble over your own feet. “You know, I had better things to do than wait for the numbers. I have been waiting for hours. I think you’re the worst person working here.”

For a second, you’re stunned. You feel like Mr. Barnes slapped you across your face.

“Maybe if you asked the person responsible for the mistake to help you with the numbers, you'd like the outcome better. I worked overtime only to get yelled at!” You gasp. The words just flew out of your mouth, unfiltered and raw with emotions.

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t work here any more then!” He bites back. It wasn’t a surprise to you that Mr. Barnes lost his temper. He’s always been a little hot-headed and grumpy. Mr. Barnes fired people here and there over the years. You just didn’t think you’d be one of them one day.

“You’re firing me after I fixed a mistake someone else made?” You huff and cross your arms over your chest. “I don’t see anyone else standing in line to work through the numbers. I worked overtime before the holidays to do you a favor.”

“That’s your job,” he growls and points at the door. “Or was. I want you to pack your things and don’t come back.”

“Fine,” you huff and turn on your heels, regretting your mishap instantly. You’d apologize and even fall to your knees to get your job back. Sadly, Mr. Barnes is a strict man. He doesn’t accept mistakes or insubordination. Whatever you’d do or say, there was no way he’d give you your job back.

So, you got a box from the storage room, emptied your desk, grabbed your belongings, and left the building for the last time in your life. To hell with this job and your boss.

“Mom, stop asking questions,” you plead as your mother wouldn’t stop asking questions about your job.

“It’s all so exciting. Living in the big city, having friends you meet up at bars like Carrie in Sex and the City, and your job. It sounds wonderful!”

“Mom, I barely made any friends,” you sigh, and try to rub the embarrassment off your face. “I’d call them work friends or acquaintances.”

“I bet they are all too happy to have you around,” she coos and cups your face. “I know my Munchkin conquered the big city in no time.”

“Mom, I—” you sniffle and look away, ashamed. It never gets easy to lie to your mother. “I have to tell you something about the job.”

“What is it, Munchkin?” she asks, looking at you, worry in her eyes. She coos to you as you begin to cry. Starting anew after your long-term boyfriend and fiancé broke things up was the dream you wanted to fulfill. Now, you failed again.

“I got fired yesterday,” you sniff. “I worked overtime, and my boss yelled at me. I fixed someone else’s mistake, and he still yelled at me. I lost it and…” You shake your head and refuse to look at your mother.

“Y/N, that’s not the end of the world.” She wraps you in a warm embrace. The kind of embrace only a mother can give you. You feel warm and safe, remembering all the times she calmed you in times of need. “You’ll find a new job, a better one. If he fired you, that man doesn’t know how to value you.”

“The fuck no!” Bucky flings a stack of papers across the room. He tried to access your account, only to realize he never asked you to reset your password. Now he’s seething because most of your work, except the files you shared with colleagues and him, is password protected. “She forgot to reset the fucking password!”

“Well, you told her to pack her things and leave, Buck. What did you expect to happen?” Steve huffs. He had to leave his cozy home and wife to help Bucky with some unimportant paperwork. “We've got time to fix this until after the holidays.”

“Unimportant to you,” Bucky bites back. “I want this finished before the year ends.”

“Buck,” Steve snorts. “If you need her password, call her.” The blonde shrugs before turning to leave. “I know you are not the best at communicating, but I believe in you. You can handle a phone call with a woman you just fired.”

“I tried more than once,” Bucky snaps at his best friend and business partner. “She won’t answer. The last time I called, she blocked my number.”

“Yeah, because you fired her!” Steve replies, laughing. “I wouldn’t answer any call from an asshole firing me two days before Christmas, either.”

Bucky opens his mouth to reply. He huffs as his friend already walks toward the door.

“What shall I do now? I need the password!”

“If you cannot reach her, go to her home and ask for the password. I will go home now. Please don’t call me during Christmas. Natasha will rip me a new one if I miss Christmas.”

“She’s not home. I was there. Her neighbors told me that Y/N will spend Christmas at her parents’ house. There’s nothing I can do about it.”

“Buck,” Steve laughs. “You can fly to her hometown and ask her for the password. While on your way back, you can celebrate with a pretty stewardess in first class as every Christmas…”

[ahqkas]

♯ I PLEDGE ALLEGIANCE TO MY DAD . . . for teaching me everything he knows ( dick grayson & jason todd as dads ! )

— fem!reader as mom, fluff, not edited, based on this req.!!

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

. . . DICK GRAYSON !

dick was always great with kids; his natural warmth, patience, and humor made him a magnet for them, even before he became a father. he often thought back to his days as robin, remembering how bruce wayne took him in and gave him stability, and he wanted to offer that same feeling ( and definitely more ) to his children.

when you two first talked about having kids, he was equal parts excited and nervous about it. dick worried about balancing family life with his vigilante responsibilities, but he couldn’t wait to start a family with you. he knew that no matter what, you’d face it together

your first child, a boy, inherits your husband’s bright energy and natural charisma. from the moment your son was born, dick was a hands-on dad. midnight feedings? no problem. diaper changes? a breeze ( well, almost ). he approached fatherhood the same way he approached everything else—with passion and a healthy dose of humor

he’s not just the dad who builds the coolest blanket forts or makes pancakes shaped like bats; he’s the dad who listens, encourages, and shows up, no matter how tired he might be after a long night of patrol. even when exhaustion clings to him like a second skin, his kids come first. if his son wants to show him the new drawing he made, dick will sit down and marvel at it as if it belongs in a gallery. if his daughter has a nightmare, he’s at her bedside in seconds, stroking her hair and whispering how she’s okay and nothing’s gonna hurt her while he’s here until she drifts back to sleep

he’s the dad who remembers every detail about his kids’ lives—their favorite bedtime stories, their least favorite vegetables, the songs that make them smile—and makes sure they feel seen and heard every single day. when he’s with them, he’s fully present, setting aside his worries about blüdhaven or the weight of his world. to them, he’s not nightwing; he’s just dad, their safe place, the person they know will always be there no matter what

he teaches your son how to ride a bike, holding the seat steady as those wobbly first attempts make an appearance. “you’ve got this!” dick encourages his son, jogging beside him. when the first scrape happens—knees meeting pavement in a blur of surprise and pain—he’s there in an instant, crouching down with the kind of gentle urgency only a dad can master

his strong arms wrap around his son in a hug that says, i’ve got you, even as tears well up in the young eyes. he’s quick with jokes to soothe the sting, brushing dirt and pebbles off tiny palms. “hey, you know what? you’re officially a biker now. all the pros have scars to prove it.”

it doesn’t matter if he’s running on just a few hours of sleep or if his legs are sore from the night before. he’ll stay on that sidewalk all afternoon if it means helping his son find the courage to get back on the bike

when your daughter is born, it’s as if a new light ignites in dick’s heart, one that’s softer and warmer than anything he’s ever felt before. from the moment he holds her—tiny, delicate, and swaddled in pastel pink—he’s utterly smitten by the baby. his breath catches in his throat as her little fingers curl instinctively around one of his. it’s the smallest thing, but to him, it’s everything. he gazes at her with an awe that rivals the first time he stood under a gotham sunrise after a long patrol as robin

every little thing she does—every yawn, every sleepy coo, even the way she scrunches her nose—melts him completely. he’s the first to volunteer for late-night feedings, cradling her against his chest while whispering soft lullabies. “it’s okay, princess,” he murmurs, his voice low and soothing, as if the sound of it alone could shield her from the world

she’s the spitting image of you, but she’s got dick’s sense of curiosity and mischief. as she grows, it’s clear she’s a daddy’s girl through and through. dick spoils her with affection, often carrying her on his shoulders or letting her “style” his hair, even if it means showing up to patrol with hair ties

she’s the one who always convinces him to stay for ��just one more bedtime story,” and dick can never say no to those puppy eyes. he does all the voices, acting out scenes with a dramatic flair that leaves her giggling uncontrollably

family movie nights are a regular occurrence. dick lets the kids pick the movie, even if it means sitting through the same animated film for the fifth time. he doesn’t mind—he’s just happy to have everyone snuggled up together

. . . JASON TODD !

jason never thought he’d be a dad. gotham wasn’t kind to kids, and in his darker moments, he felt like it had swallowed the boy he used to be whole. he worried his own traumas—nights spent cold and hungry on the streets, the ache of betrayal, the sting of abandonment—might cast shadows over the kind of father he’d want to be. how could he teach love and trust when his world had been built on survival and second chances?

the thought of holding a child, so small and fragile, scared him more than any villain ever could. what if he didn’t have it in him to be the kind of dad they deserved? what if his sharp edges cut too deep, or worse, he failed to protect them from the city that had failed him? jason had spent so long fighting his way through life that the idea of creating a safe, warm space for someone else felt like trying to plant flowers in a wasteland. and yet, the thought of building something good—something untouchable by gotham’s darkness—stirred a longing in him he couldn’t ignore.

when you told him you were pregnant with your first child, he was stunned silent for a solid minute. then came the slight tremble in his hands as he cradled your face and whispered, “we’re really doing this?” you swore you saw tears in his eyes, though he’d deny it later

he threw himself into preparing for fatherhood. between patrols, you’d catch him reading baby books, jotting down notes in that same serious way he planned missions. ( “what the hell is a diaper genie, baby? is it a genie for diapers, or does it genie them away?” )

when your first daughter was born, jason held her for the first time with an awe. he whispered promises to her, things like, “you’ll never go through what i did,” and “i’m gonna give you the world, princess.”

jason’s daughters own him. his rough, serious ide of personality melts into a puddle of mush when they so much as giggle at him. one pouty face, and he’s done for

when they’re little, he becomes a human jungle gym. they’ll climb all over him, pull on his hair, and stick stickers all over his face while he sits patiently, letting them “decorate” him. ( “you’re turning me into a unicorn, huh? cool. just don’t let your mom take pictures—too late? figures.” )

as they grow, he keeps a close eye on everything, from their friends to the neighborhoods they walk through. he’s not overbearing but has serious dad-radar. if they so much as mention a creepy guy or a mean teacher, he’s all, “do i need to handle this? no? you sure? okay, but say the word.”

by age eight, they’ve both mastered basic self-defense, thanks to “daddy’s fun time karate sessions.” he makes it a game—lots of laughter and encouragement—but underneath it, he’s deadly serious

when they’re older, he teaches them how to change a tire, handle their own money, and, much to your exasperation, how to throw a punch. ( “jason, they don’t need to know how to disarm a grown man at ten years old!” “baby, it’s gotham. yes, they do.” )

he’s the kind of dad who makes pancake breakfasts on weekends, complete with smiley faces and way too much syrup

on father’s day, his daughters surprise him with handmade cards every year. jason’s tough demeanor cracks every time he reads their scrawled messages: “daddy, you’re my hero.”

and jason as a father to teenage girls? lord, help us all.

when his eldest goes on her first date, he plays it cool—for all of two seconds. he grills the poor kid with subtle threats hidden behind a charming smile. ( “so, you like my daughter? good. treat her right, or you’ll have a real bad night. understand?” )

you have to remind him not to tail them when they go out. “jason, they’ll know you’re following them.” “i’ll stay a block behind. they’ll never see me.”

but despite his overprotectiveness, he’s their anchor during tough times. when they experience their first heartbreaks, he is there with hugs, ice cream, and the kind of pep talks that make them laugh through their tears. “anyone who doesn’t see how amazing you are isn’t worth crying over. you’re the todd girl. we don’t settle for less.”

deep down, jason worries about failing them. he knows what it’s like to lose everything, and the thought of his girls experiencing even a fraction of that makes his stomach churn

[joelslastofus]

[SUMMARY: Joel teaches Marlene’s younger sister about how a man cums.]

Smut smut smut

“What did you mean by…you didn’t pull out? Last night after we-“

“Had sex” he cleared his throat.

“I wonder if he was always this grumpy”

You raised a brow to Ellie as Joel walked off to check the perimeter.

“My guess is yes” she shrugged.

Had you known who your older sister Marlene had sent you off with, you would’ve never agreed. Had it not been for Ellie, you definitely would’ve never gone along.

Your sister knew you developed a closeness with Ellie and asked you to go along with her and Joel to eventually meet at the destination. Never had you met him before but you definitely heard of him.

“You both will be fine with him, he knows what he’s doing” was all Marlene told you privately, yet you still felt some doubt. After all, she was the only one who had met him prior.

Without explaining much Joel led you to what seemed like some kind of a trap. Standing by a gate as it opened you looked ahead curiously.

“Where are we?” Ellie asked.

“A friend’s house” was all he responded with.

Silently following him to the door, you watched as he let himself in and followed.

“Don’t touch anything” he uttered low before he stopped in his tracks to find a letter on a table by the front door. Whatever the letter said, you could see the disappointment linger in him. He swallowed uncomfortably and silently tore the letter into pieces before walking away.

“So what are we doing?” Ellie asked eagerly following behind him.

“We stay here for the night, gather some supplies, fill up the tank and take the car-“

“You’re gonna take their car?” Your question making him turn to you.

“Mhm” he responded flatly and turned away.

He wasn’t one to explain much, you either went along with what he said or you didn’t.

Marlene warned you about this but assured you whatever it was would be for your best.

Once you learned the house was filled with food and water, you each excitedly took a turn taking a shower.

Well, you and Ellie seemed the most excited.

Looking around the house wearing a bath robe you found, you almost didn’t feel like any of this was real.

Grabbing a bottle of wine that was on the table you poured yourself a glass as Ellie watched.

“Might as well” You shrugged when she suddenly raised her brows looking behind you.

“Woah look at you!” You turned to find Joel freshly showered in a button flannel with his wet hair slick back. For just a second he seemed a bit bashful until he laid eyes on you and took a quick glance at what you were wearing and at the glass of wine in your hand.

“Don’t mind me” Ellie’s playful tone making you and Joel look at her as she grabbed the bottle of wine.

“Put it down” Joel ordered.

“Gosh ok, fun killer” she rolled her eyes with a chuckle as Joel stood awkwardly looking back at you before he walked into the living room.

For just a moment you found yourself overcome with a heat you had never really felt before.

An attraction you didn’t expect.

To say Joel looked insanely hot fresh out of a shower, was an understatement.

“Helloooo” Ellie’s voice distracted you from your thoughts.

How long had she been talking?

You looked over to see Joel enter a room and close the door behind him as you turned with Ellie and walked to the opposite side of the house.

“I’m getting tired” Ellie sighed on the couch.

“So go to sleep” you yourself yawned sitting opposite from her. She was quick to fall asleep as you found yourself struggling to find a comfortable position, you refused to sleep on a chair and went off to another bedroom.

It was another long lonely night for Joel, his cock pushing against the tough material of his jeans as he lay back in bed with his hands behind his head.

Thoughts of you crossing his mind.

He tried to fight those thoughts the best he could, but the frustration of not having had a woman in what felt like years was getting harder for him to ignore.

He wasn’t close to Marlene, frankly he didn’t give a shit about her but he made a promise to protect her younger sister, not fantasize about fucking her. His lust for you becoming harder to ignore he gave in and roughly unzhipped his pants far enough where his cock was completely out. Spitting on his hand he began to slowly tug at his cock, staring at the ceiling thinking about what your body must look like beneath that heavy bath robe you wore.

Closing his eyes he let his very vivid imagination take over him when suddenly the sound of the door opening made him jump.

You had walked in and froze at the sight before you.

“The hell you doin?!” He attempted to grab a sheet to cover himself but wrapped so tightly beneath the mattress he failed at pulling it out.

You could’ve sworn Joel went to the other room, did he not?

Obviously he didn’t.

Still, you stood in shock…amazed at the sight of a grown mans erect cock.

Of course, you had seen many in pictures, you weren’t a virgin but…you did only have sex once. It was months ago and for you it didn’t count, you couldn’t even tell when it ended, the man didn’t care to pleasure you nor show you anything. All you knew was that a man would thrust into a woman’s cunt until he came, whatever that meant..

Closing the door behind you not taking your eyes off of what was before you, you walked towards him.

“What are you doin’? Get out of here-“ he pushed himself half way up struggling to cover his erection with his hand.

You could feel the sensation of flutters between your thighs, your cunt pulsating to feel something.

To feel him.

He watched your hands take hold of your robe and he knew what you were about to do.

“No-“ he faintly shook his head looking directly at you as you let the bath robe fall to the ground.

“Jesus….honey, please...” he whispered focusing on every part of your body, better than what he could imagine

Looking down at him, it was as if he couldn’t move. He seemed in a trance focused on your plump breasts before you slowly pushed him completely back onto the bed. Pressing his lips together he breathed deeply watching as your fingers swirled downward around the buttons on his shirt before stopping at his erect cock. His eyes darting between you and his cock wondering what you would do until you took hold of his thick length in your hands.

“Honey-“ he panted just as you felt him place his hand on the back of your thigh. You knew what you wanted to do next and without saying a word you took him fully into your mouth. His body instantly tensing at the feel of your warm mouth, your head bobbing in a rhythm until you felt yourself about to gag.

All you could hear was noises coming from him that you couldn’t make out.

Isn’t this what your friend said men loved?

Pushing yourself to continue, you had no idea how focused he was watching you. His jaw tense as you felt his hand creep up your back until he stopped on the back of your neck.

He was hesitant to hold your mouth on him but you felt him slightly squeeze you, a part of him somehow still trying to resist something he knew he couldn’t. Coming up for air you gagged as he said something incoherently through heavy breaths. Your jaw slightly sore as you struggled to catch your breath.

His chest falling and rising deeply, he watched as you began to unbutton his shirt one by one. His cock jerking wanting to feel your lips once more, wanting to feel you. You had no idea just how weak your touch made him, how long he had yearned for the feel of a woman.

Never had you been on top during sex but you remember your friends talking about it and even sharing pictures they had found from magazines. You remembered one photo specifically, the way the woman straddled the man and something in you pushed you to try it. Joel had no idea how inexperienced you truly were as you climbed over him and balanced yourself guiding him to your entrance. He could feel the heat of your wet cunt hovering over him and as you lowered yourself you were met by the unexpected girth of his cock.

“I don’t know how long I can go baby”

He tried to warn you but you not knowing exactly what he meant and listening to your own urges simply nodded. His hands on your hips he helped guide you taking him completely in, your lips open in shock as you balanced yourself on his chest. You noticed his jaw tense, a crease between his brows deepening feeling how you tightly wrapped around him.

Without saying a word, you did just as the magazine showed and began to ride him slowly. His fingers imprinting into your skin as he looked down watched himself disappear in you. His cock glistening from your juices building up around him, Joel had completely lost himself in the pleasure.

Was this the way sex was suppose to feel like?

A moan that even surprised you left your lips much louder than you meant to making Joel quickly look up at you.

“Tell me how it feels” he demanded watching your expressions change with each stroke.

Yet you almost couldn’t speak.

“Tell me-“ he spoke through clenched teeth. He needed to hear it.

“You feel so..good” you panted.

“Oh baby” he squeezed your hips thrusting upward until he felt an intensity he hadn’t felt in forever taking over him.

“Fuck-“ his body tensed, he almost looked as if he was in pain.

“Joel?” You whispered confused.

“Get off-“ he barely could speak clearly.

“What?” You gasped as his grip on you tightened, he threw his neck back squeezing his eyes shut letting out the loudest deepest groan you’ve ever heard a man make. Lifting both your bodies off the bed Joel in that moment felt every inch of his body over come in ecstasy; as if the world had stopped around him.

“Fuck-“ he breathed his eyes still closed. Looking down at him cluelessly, your hands on his chest, you didn’t know what to say.

“Did I..did I hurt you?” You whispered.

His eyes slowing opening, still in daze, his lips parted attempting to speak but before he could a knock startled you both.

“Joel? Are you okay?”

It was Ellie, his moan waking her up out of her deep sleep of course.

“Yes!” He choked out.

“Bad dream!” Was all he could say.

“Oh uh, okay” Ellie walked off back to the couch and closed her eyes again.

Still struggling to catch his breath, Joel looked up at you a bit confused himself. Why on earth would you think you hurt him? Here you still sat on him, feeling him throb inside you.

“You mind, honey?” He asked making you jump.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry-“ you quickly got off him taking a few steps back.

Joel knew he fucked up, he knew he shouldn’t have fucked you, let alone cum in you.

But god dammit you felt so good.

“Are you okay?” You whispered.

With a frustrated glare at your question he pushed himself up. Not saying a word he cleaned himself off and buttoned his pants back up.

“Why do you keep askin’ me that?” He stood up buttoning his shirt.

“Because….it looked like I hurt you…you were in pain” Joel furrowed his brows puzzled with your words.

“Pain? I beg your pardon”

“So I didn’t hurt you?” Each time you spoke it only left Joel more confused. It was as if you knew nothing about sex and how it worked.

“If it wasn’t for the way you rode me, I would’ve thought you were a damn virgin with the way you’re talkin’” he noticed you stood silent and his expression changed.

“Shit…don’t tell me you’re a-“

“I’m not” you quickly intervened as you put on your robe.

“I mean…I only had sex once but-“

Joel took a deep breath brushing his hand over his lips. You really didn’t know what the fuck just happened.

“I don’t know…some things…” you spoke hesitantly. Joel looked down at you still out of breath, his hands on his hips not exactly sure how to go about this.

“What do you know?” You could hear the frustration in his voice.

“You’re mad-“

“I ain’t…mad” he noticed his tone and spoke calmer.

“Tell me, whaddyah know?”

“I mean, I know how sex works…I know um…-“

“How’d ya know how to get on top of me?”

He blurt out.

“Some friends I had, had shown me some magazines and-“

“Did you read what those magazines said?”

“Not really…” you whispered. Taking a deep breath he looked down realizing he somehow got stuck in explaining to you exactly what sex was, explaining to you what he had just done.

“Well…as for me being in pain-“ he cleared his throat awkwardly. Quite frankly you had taken him out of his misery.

“You just…you made me cum” you looked at him blankly still unsure what that meant.

“Is that a good thing?”

“Yes-no…yes” Joel himself looked flustered.

“So why did you look like I hurt you?”

“I just hadn’t felt that in a long time, it was…a lot”

“I felt you…you were throbbing when you-“

“Alright that’s enough” he turned away.

“Why are you acting like this is a bad thing?” You walked towards him as he stopped in his tracks.

“It shouldn’t have happened” he turned back to you rather serious.

“But it felt good… What’s the problem?” The more you spoke the more frustrated he became.

“What are you afraid of, my sister Marlene?-“

“I ain’t afraid of your sister” he cut you off coldly.

“So then-“

“God dammit, I came in you!” He yelled louder than he meant to as you looked up at him confused. Grabbing your arms as he looked back at the door making sure Ellie hadn’t heard, he pulled you close to him.

“I didn’t pull out” he spoke low.

“You could get pregnant-“

“Pregnant?” Joel had no idea how naive you were, the innocent fear in your eyes making him feel a wave of guilt.

“I-…I can’t get pregnant” you shook your head.

“That can’t happen, Joel. I…I can’t…my sister would kill me-“

“Your sister should’ve informed you better, didn’t you get schooled?”

“Marlene rather I had focused on training instead of school work. I mean, I knew…I knew sex could lead to pregnancy I just didn’t know how and-oh my god” he could see the panic in you rise.

“I should get out of here” you ran out the door before Joel could even stop you. Your mind running a mile a minute, everything made sense now. You heard about women around you speak about their menstrual cycle, some mentioning being late…

Women still did fall pregnant regardless of what was going on, you just didn’t think it would happen to you.

The next day you met Joel and Ellie in the living room gathering supplies. Joel took a double look at you as you entered the room, your presence easily distracting him.

“Morning” you whispered to both.

“What have you guys found?” You asked looking down at the table.

“Everything and more” Ellie grinned.

“He’s even letting me have my own gun”

You quickly looked at Joel who shook his head.

“Aw come on, could’ve pulled a prank on her with me” Joel remained serious, focused on all he was taking.

“I’m gonna go check out the car, see what stuff they have in the garage” Ellie walked off leaving you two alone for the first time since last night.

“You alright?” He asked without looking up.

“Mhm”

“Look, I’m sorry I freaked you out last night. It’s something you should’ve known, it ain’t your fault” his eyes eventually met yours making your heart skip a beat.

“I just want you to know that if…if that ends up happening…we’ll deal with it together…somehow. Alright?” You felt some kind of relief although you had no idea how any of it would even play out.

“Ok” you whispered.

“Can I ask you something?” You continued, Joel nodded.

“What did you mean by…you didn’t pull out? Last night after we-“

“Had sex” he cleared his throat.

Adjusting himself in his chair, his feet’s widely apart from each other he sighed.

“Um, usually…I mean-“ he raised his brows unsure of how to explain what you asked.

“Usually men wear a condom to prevent a pregnancy.”

“A condom?” You raised a brow.

“Mhm. Somethin’ a man puts on but I wasn’t wearing one and the next resort is to pull out before…before cummin’”

“Why didn’t you? Did you know you were gonna cum before you did?” Joel rubbed the back of his neck, droplets of sweats building up on his forehead.

“Uh…yes-“

“So why didn’t you pull out?” You whispered.

“I couldn’t.” He looked up at you biting his bottom lip.

“Why not?”

“Because I couldn’t god dammit, it felt too good and I couldn’t get you off in time and it’s my damn fault and I apologize, alright? Enough with the damn questions.” Joel left you speechless, what could you possibly say to that?

Joel went back to going through things he had found, he seemed to be in the middle of working on screwing something back on as you watched. Putting full force into twisting something he made a similar sound to the night before. A groan that caught your attention. He noticed with the corner of his eye the way you looked at him and instantly stopped what he was doing.

“What is it?”

“Uh…nothing”

Joel looked back down continuing what he was doing until he did it again. Instantly flooding your mind with thoughts from last night.

“Can you stop doing that?” Your sudden tone made him look up.

“Stop what?”

“That sound…that damn sound you make”

He furrowed his brows putting down what he had in his hand, his eyes still on you.

“I beg your pardon”

“It just….it sounds like when…”

“Like?”

“Like when…when you came” you blurt out.

Joel stood silent in that moment struggling to fight back thoughts he was having. Curiosity eating up at him as you stood innocently in front of him, he couldn’t help himself but wonder...

“A man ever make you cum?”

“What?” You responded almost embarrassed.

“Me?”

“Yes you”

You shook your head silently.

Joel looked over his shoulder making sure Ellie was no where near before he made his way to you. Cornering you against the wall you looked up at him confused.

“What are you doing?”

“You know, darlin’? You talk an awful lot sometimes” he pulled you by your belt unbuckling it.

“Joel-“ he unbuttoned your pants.

“Wait-“

“I thought you said we shouldn’t have done what we did last night” you whispered.

In his mind Joel was battling what was right, what was wrong…what he wanted and he couldn’t stop himself.

“I just think it’s fair I make you feel how you made me feel…at least once” his voice was tempting, his eyes making you melt. Slowly you nodded and allowed him to stick his hand in your pants. His foot making you part your legs, sliding one foot farther away from the other. Joel moved slowly, first allowing his fingers to feel you over the soft fabric of your underwear. Somehow just a simple touch sent shivers down your spine, his tongue sliding over his bottom lip as he felt your pussy lips agonist his fingers. He watched your eyes almost roll back, you felt yourself aroused by his touch. Slowly he pushed your underwear aside, letting his fingers pry apart your lips to instantly feel you were already wet.

“Oh honey..” he whispered as he pushed you against the wall with his body. You felt his finger begin to do something you’ve never felt, he began to move it in a circular motion right on your clit. Tingling sensations shooting up your abdomen, your breathing became harder to control. He watched as the pleasure built up inside you, your body sinking into his as you let out a soft whimper. Joel took your arm and placed it over his shoulder, allowing you to hold on to him as he moved his finger faster.

That’s when you noticed he was hard ready to burst out of his pants. Reaching to his crotch area he caught your arm before you could touch him.

“Mm mm, I’m workin’ on you right now, honey”

You could feel the pleasure begin to grow as if something would burst inside you. Your legs quivering you moaned as a pressure you had never felt increased.

“Oh my god” you dug your nails into the back of his neck making him move faster, his other arm holding you up around your waist as you struggled to stay balanced.

“Don’t fight it, baby, let it go” he demanded in a rough whisper. You couldn’t stop it if you tried, an overpowering rush of pleasure consumed you making you cry out like you never had. Joel’s eyes filled with instant fulfillment watching as the intensity took over you.

“Good girl” his hand caressed your neck, his forehead on yours, you panted as your pussy throbbed against his fingers. You couldn’t speak as he carried you onto a table against the wall.

He wasn’t done with you just yet.

He pulled your pants completely off and unzipped his as you still sat in a trance coming back from cloud nine. Placing himself between your legs, he watched your eyes widen as you slid himself in you. Holding your body up against him Joel fucked you as if he had something to make up for, as if you both were running out of time together. Grabbing onto him for dear life you moaned with each deep thrust, you never knew something could feel so good. His hands dug into your hair, pulling your neck back forcing you to look up at him. That’s when he kissed you, his tongue danced around yours as he moved his hips slowly. Muffling your moans he made sure every inch of him left you wanting more. Parting his lips from yours he didn’t take his eyes off you, his pace growing fast once more, your eyes rolling back.

“Oh god, it’s happening..again”

“Mhm” he thrusted harder, tugging at your hair with more force until he felt you tighten around him and your body jerked against his. Your moans making him reach his climax before he quickly pulled out and came on your thigh.

You panted looking down as he jerked himself off and watched his cum pour out of him. A deep breath of relief he closed his eyes before you heard the garage door close.

“Oh shit, she’s coming-“ you whispered as you both jumped to fix yourselves back to normal as fast as you could when she appeared at the door. Your back to Joel as you struggled to catch your breath, you pretended to be looking through a random book laying around as Joel continued packing.

“What’s wrong with you, Joel?” Ellie asked curiously noticing how out of breath he was.

“Huh? nothin’”

“Why are you so sweaty?”

“Cause I’m the only one putting every damn together, here-“ he threw her a small bag.

“Why don’t ya take that to the car, I’ll be right there” Ellie silently grabbed the bag, shrugged and walked out.

“Think she noticed?” Joel spoke looking over his shoulder before turning back to you realizing you didn’t respond, only to see you struggling to keep your balance by the wall.

“What’s wrong?” He quickly stood up walking towards you.

“I um-“ your voice trembled.

“My legs can’t stop shaking” you whispered. Joel couldn’t help but smirk.

“Are you gonna laugh at me? I can’t help it”

“ I ain’t laughing at cha”

“Sure seems like it”

“You have my word, I really ain’t. But now you know how you left me last night, guess we’re even.” Joel turned away with a chuckle as he grabbed another bag and walked to the car.

Tags:

@moonpascal @katmoonz @picketniffler @stcrrjoon @itsamandi @starry-eyes-love @theoraekenslover @psychoenergy @joeldjarin @bambisweethearts @baronessvonglitter @guelyury @mynameistokyo @harriedandharassed @locaparapedrito @untamedheart81 @rosaliedepp @illyanam1011 @hopefulatrocity @tikikiki @thewritermj @l0veang3l @manuymesut @katiemarieeee @unknownomgg @secretcheesecakenacho @missladym1981 @sunnytuliptime @xmaykeca @dendulinka6 @wintersquirrel @malfoycassimalfoy @scorpio-echo @orcasoul @mysteryhexgirl @locaparapedrito @alloftheimagines @mystickittytaco

@ashleyfilm @justajoelsreader @ashleyfilm

[ha-rinrin]

CHRISTMAS SPECIAL

Summary: Jinx and Isha still believe in Santa, and you’re the magic behind, making sure everything goes perfectly.

Pairing: Jinx x Fem!reader

Wordcount: 2.4k

Authors note: Happy early Christmas everyone!! hope you guys get a lot of presents and love 🤍

It was Christmas Eve in the heart of Zaun, and while the streets outside were cold and busy, the warmth inside your home was a stark contrast. The fire crackled in the fireplace, casting a cozy glow across the room. You were curled up on the couch, attempting to relax, but your attention kept being pulled to the two most excited people in the house.

Isha, though silent, was practically vibrating with anticipation, her eyes wide and hands fluttering with excitement as she signed rapidly to Jinx, who was already animatedly responding in kind. 

"I swear, I can hear him coming!" Jinx grinned, wearing a ridiculously oversized Santa hat and bouncing around as she set up little decorations around the room. She paused dramatically, giving you an exaggerated look. "You do believe in Santa, right? Because if you don't, I might have to have a little chat with you, and it’s gonna be uncomfortable."

Isha signed something to you then, her eyes sparkling, and you read it aloud, "She says Santa will bring the best presents. He’s real, right?"

You smiled, amused by their shared enthusiasm. "Well, of course he’s real," you said dryly, your tone teasing. "I mean, if Santa’s not real, who would’ve been sneaking presents under the tree all these years, hmm?" You raised an eyebrow, playing along, though inside you couldn’t help but smile at the sheer magic of the moment.

Isha giggled and nodded eagerly, signing again, this time to Jinx, who laughed loudly and clapped her hands. "Exactly! You heard it here first, folks!" Jinx was fully in her element now. She turned to you, pulling her Santa hat down even further over her eyes. "Santa’s real. And he’s gonna bring a mountain of candy and maybe a new rocket launcher—no promises on that last one, though."

You chuckled softly, shaking your head. "Santa doesn’t bring rocket launchers, Jinx."

Isha signed something that made Jinx pause, looking a little more serious for a moment. "Oh, she’s asking if we can leave out carrots for the reindeer!" Jinx beamed. "Yes, we’re doing it! And the cookies, of course. Gotta have cookies. Maybe a little extra for me when Santa isn’t looking."

As you prepared the cookies, you couldn’t help but marvel at the way the two of them seemed to exist in this shared fantasy world. It was pure joy, the kind of innocent belief that could only come from a child and someone who had never quite lost her own sense of wonder, even as chaotic as she could be.

You smiled softly as you watched Isha going to her room to curl up under her blankets, still trying her hardest to keep her eyes open. Her little hands were tucked under her head, her gaze occasionally darting to the window, waiting for a sign of Santa’s arrival. You gently adjusted her covers, brushing a few stray locks of hair away from her face.

"Isha, honey, you have to sleep," you whispered, brushing your hand over her cheek. She shook her head stubbornly, eyes fluttering but not quite closing. Her hands signed something, and you chuckled, reading it aloud. "She says she’ll only sleep if she sees Santa's sleigh."

"Tell her Santa can’t come if she’s awake," Jinx chimed in, appearing in the doorway, leaning against the frame with a dramatic sigh. She was still wearing that oversized Santa hat, her face lit up with excitement. "Santa’s not gonna come if she’s spying on him, toots. He needs some quiet so he can sneak in."

Isha shot her a playful glare, but it didn’t last long. Her eyelids were growing heavier by the second, and before you knew it, her little sighs slowed, her breath deepening as sleep finally claimed her.

You smiled as you watched her drift off, and Jinx tiptoed over to the bed, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on Isha's forehead. "Goodnight, kiddo. Sweet dreams, okay? Santa’s on his way."

Jinx stood up, her eyes gleaming with that familiar excitement. "Alright, toots, it's go time!" She grinned at you, clearly eager to keep the Christmas magic alive for the both of you. "We gotta make sure everything’s perfect for Santa! I’m talking cookies, carrots for the reindeer, and maybe some milk, too" 

You laughed softly, as you both made your way to the living room, where the tree sparkled with lights. The soft glow of the fire in the chimney filled the room with a peaceful warmth, and for a moment, you felt a wave of contentment wash over you. It was moments like these that made everything feel magical.

Jinx carefully arranged the cookies, placing them on a plate next to the tree, her movements full of purpose. "Carrots for the reindeer, right?" she asked, holding up a bunch she’d already prepared, before setting them neatly next to the fireplace. "They need their snacks for the ride."

She stepped back to admire her work, hands on her hips, nodding to herself. "Okay, okay, everything’s perfect. Now we just need to sleep, or Santa’s not gonna come. We gotta let him do his thing!"

You looked over at her, her eyes sparkling with anticipation, you found yourself caught up in her joy. There was something about the way Jinx saw the world, so full of wonder and possibility, that made everything feel like it had a little extra magic.

With a sigh, you smiled and took her hand. "Alright, alright. We’ll go to sleep. But I’m warning you, Santa doesn’t like it when you snore too loud."

Jinx laughed, pulling you toward the bedroom with a playful grin. "Hey, I’m quiet! i don’t even snore!, i don’t know what you’re talking about, toots" She joked as you both snuck into bed, the warmth from the blankets wrapping around you both.

You couldn’t help but smile as you turned off the lights, the soft flicker of the fireplace in the other room casting a gentle glow. Jinx snuggled close to you, her face still glowing with excitement. "Merry Christmas, toots," she whispered, squeezing your hand.

"Merry Christmas, love," you whispered back, feeling the magic of the night settle around you like a soft blanket. And as you closed your eyes, you couldn't help but believe that, for Isha and Jinx at least, Santa really was on his way.

The room was quiet, save for the steady rhythm of Jinx's soft breathing beside you. She had finally drifted into a peaceful sleep, her form curled up beside you under the thick blankets. The firelight flickered gently in the corner, casting long shadows on the walls.

You lay there for a while, listening to Jinx’s muffled snores, her face blissfully relaxed in a way that made you smile. Slowly, you slipped out of bed, careful not to disturb her, and padded quietly toward the door. The excitement of the night wasn’t quite over yet.

As you tiptoed down the hall, a mischievous grin tugged at your lips. You had a plan tonight, and Sevika was already waiting for you in the living room. It was the same tradition you two had kept up for years, even though you were both far past the age of believing in Santa. But you couldn’t resist the fun of making it feel real for Isha—and Jinx, of course, who never really grew out of her childlike wonder.

You rounded the corner into the living room, and there she was, leaning casually against the fireplace, half-eaten cookies in one hand and a drink of milk in the other. Sevika’s eyes met yours, and she raised an eyebrow with a grin, clearly enjoying herself.

“Sevika,” you whispered, stepping in the room with a playful smirk. “What are you doing standing there, eating all the cookies and drinking the milk?”

Sevika looked up, unfazed, with a dramatic sigh. “I’m just making sure that Santa keeps his energy up for the big night,” she said, a small chuckle escaping her as she picked up another carrot and took a bite. “Besides, you don’t want Santa running on empty, do you?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of her, leaning casually against the fireplace as if she were the one delivering the presents. “Right,” you said, crossing your arms. “You and me both know Santa’s going to be mad at you for raiding his stash. But fine, fine, get your fix, but we have a job to do.”

Sevika wiped her mouth, grinning. “You’re right. Let’s get this over with.”

She followed you toward the pile of gifts hidden in a closet, both of you moving with a practiced ease. You’d been planning this for weeks, carefully choosing the right presents for Isha and Jinx, getting the things from their Christmas list, and now it was time to put them under the tree.

Sevika chuckled as she helped you arrange the gifts, a little smirk playing on her lips. “I can’t believe we’re still doing this for an adult,” she said, shaking her head as she set a large box under the tree.

“Hey,” you said, half-laughing, “we’re not doing it for just Jinx. It’s for Isha too. She’ll love it.”

“I guess that’s true,” Sevika said, her voice softening just a little as she glanced at the sleeping child’s room down the hall. “Can’t help but want to see their faces when they wake up.”

You nodded, your heart light as you finished setting up the last of the gifts. “Exactly. I just love seeing them excited, even if we’re the ones pulling the strings behind the scenes.”

Sevika leaned back against the wall, crossing her arms. “Yeah, well, you’re lucky I’ve got a soft spot for Christmas magic. Next year, though, I’m leaving all the work to you.”

You shot her a playful look. “Deal. I’ll take all the credit”

The two of you shared a quiet laugh before you finally stepped back, admiring the tree, the gifts stacked neatly beneath it. The milk was mostly gone, the cookies nearly finished, and the carrots all but devoured. It was a picture-perfect holiday moment—one that you were both proud of.

“Alright,” you said softly, standing up and brushing your hands together. “Everything’s set. We’d better get out of here before Jinx wakes up and catches us.”

“Agreed.” Sevika winked at you. “Merry Christmas, kiddo.”

“Merry Christmas, Sevika” you replied with a grin. “Now let’s get back to bed before she notices we’re gone.”

As the two of you quietly snuck back to your rooms, the excitement of the night still buzzing through your veins, you knew that tomorrow would be filled with even more joy. The look on Jinx and Isha’s faces when they saw the tree in the morning would be worth every bit of sneaky work you’d done tonight.

The morning sun barely filtered through the thick curtains, casting soft light over the room. You were still nestled under the blankets, trying to cling to those last few moments of sleep when a loud voice jolted you awake.

“MARRRRY CHRIIIISSSSTMAS, EVERYONE!” Jinx’s voice rang out through the space like an explosion of energy. You felt the bed shift as she bounced on it, practically vibrating with excitement. “TIME TO SEE IF SANTA CAME!”

Before you could even rub the sleep from your eyes, she was already off the bed, sprinting toward ishas room, completely disregarding the noise she was making. You heard her knocking on the door, “ISHA! COME SEE IF SANTA CAME!”

You groaned, half-laughing to yourself, knowing full well there was no point in trying to go back to sleep. Slowly, you dragged yourself out of bed and followed the excitement that was spilling out into the living space.

As you reached the room, you found Jinx already knocking on the door with exaggerated flair. Isha, her eyes still heavy with sleep but slowly waking up, crawled out of her bed as soon as she noticed Jinx’s face lit with excitement. She gave you a sleepy smile before following Jinx, who pulled her along, her small hand clasped tightly in Jinx’s.

“Look! Look, Isha!” Jinx practically shouted, her excitement nearly overflowing. You followed them into the living room, still trying to shake off the drowsiness, but a smile tugged at your lips when you saw them both staring in awe at the scene under the tree.

Isha’s eyes widened in silent awe, her hands fluttering with excitement as she pointed toward the empty plates where cookies and milk had been. Jinx kneeled beside the plates, inspecting them with a gleam in her eyes. “See? I told you they needed the snacks to keep going!” she said, lifting the empty milk glass. “Reindeer are like us—super hungry!”

Just then, Sevika emerged from the kitchen, holding a plate with a couple of the leftover cookies and sipping from a mug of coffee. She paused when she noticed the excited scene, an eyebrow raising at the display. "Well, I can’t say I’m surprised. Christmas does bring out the kid in everyone,” she commented, then took another sip of her coffee like it was the most normal thing in the world.

You couldn’t help but laugh at the sight. “Sevika, really? You’re just going to stand there drinking coffee while we’re all here in a Christmas frenzy?”

Sevika shrugged, unfazed. “Someone’s gotta stay sane around here,” she said with a smirk, taking another sip from her mug. "Can’t be all about cookies and milk. A girl’s gotta have her coffee."

Isha signed something quickly, looking between you, Jinx, and Sevika. You translated for her, “She says she’s glad Santa’s real.”

Jinx, ever the bundle of energy, jumped up. “You heard it here first, folks!” she declared with a wide grin. “Santa is real, and he’s got a serious appetite! Look at those empty plates!” She looked at Sevika with mock seriousness. “And I’m gonna need a little more carrot next year. Maybe some cookies, too.”

Sevika rolled her eyes but kept her grin. “Yeah, yeah. More cookies next year.”

“Alright!” Jinx grinned, tugging Isha over to the tree. “Now that we know Santa came, let’s open presents!”

You stood back, watching as the two of them eagerly circled the tree, their faces lit up with pure joy and excitement. You smiled, your heart warm from the moment. It was messy and chaotic, but it was perfect. Christmas in your house with your little family—Jinx, Isha, and even Sevika—was exactly what you’d dreamed of.

“Let’s get started,” you said with a smile, kneeling down beside them.

The three of them eagerly started opening presents, and you couldn’t help but feel like everything was just as it should be. The holiday magic was alive and well, and for a moment, nothing else mattered.

[heartmix]

matching - jack hughes

Pairing: Jack Hughes x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 500+

Warning: mention of nakedness (wrapped in a towel)

Twelve Fic of Christmas - matching pjs

A/N: again i really don't know what the weather is like in Michigan during christmas time.

Masterlist \ Hockey Masterlist

One thing about Jack, he loved Christmas. The constant stories from his brothers and parents were enough to expose the hockey player. This year would be the first time you would be spending Christmas together. He invited you home for Christmas since the boys had a 3 day break away from any home. You were happy to accept the invitation. 

Once you guys arrived at his parent's house the festivities were in full force. He didn't waste a second rushing to get ready to go and start a snowball fight with his brothers. Although he was complaining he got no sleep on the plane ride, all the tiredness left his body once he saw snow. 

Five hours later being in the snow, Ellen called you all in for dinner and movie night. Jack being the most excited pulled you into the shower with him saying "There was no time to waste, we're watching the Grinch." It was cute to watch him being excited for something as mundane as movie night. 

As you were looking around your luggage for something warm to wear Jack stopped you in your tracks, "Wait! I got something for you!" Only wrapped in a towel, he rushed to his luggage tossing everything out and making a mess you knew he wouldn't clean up. 

Turning back around he held out a Target bag with a big smile on his face. "I got you something to wear!" 

"Well show me, I'm freezing here." You motioned to the towel currently wrapped around your body. 

Suddenly you saw that he pulled out a pair of pajama pants and a sweater. Not just any pants and sweater it was Christmas-themed. The pants were simple red and green plaid while the sweater had the Grinch's face on it. No wonder he was excited to watch the movie tonight. He threw both items to you while he dug into the bag for a matching set. 

"I got us matching pajamas!" 

"You went to Target to get us matching Christmas pajamas?" A hint of amusement laced your voice. He hated going to Target, so the fact that he went in to get you both matching sets to surprise you with was a sight to see. 

"Well duh, we need to be matching. What kind of boyfriend do you take me for?" 

"This is really cute Bubba. You're adorable." You smiled righting walking over to him wrapping your arms around his neck while his hands immediately went to your waist. 

"It's our first Christmas together, I want you to have a good time." 

"Bubba, as long as I'm with you I'm going to have a good time." At this, he couldn't help but pull you in for a kiss. Of course, he knew that just being here was enough but he wanted to go all out for you. 

"I'm glad you think that, but go change your skin is freezing." He lightly pushed you off of him laughing as your towel almost fell off. 

"I've been trying to tell you!" 

[embbarnes]

I was sooo excited to see this finished, I couldn't wait to read it. Okay, okay...here we go~

The beginning of it is so pure and sweet, I love how you include so many characters and build the dynamics and world up for the story to begin. You always do such a good job with that, and I love seeing all the details.

I also like how you took this with Logan's view, how you described others and the reactions between them were so perfect for his character. Wade and Al were hilarious, the chatter they had in the beginning was entertaining and 100% something I can see happening.

Anyway continuing below cut because I love reviewing your stuff in more detail ~

The next couple of months go similarly. He runs into you frequently – in the elevator, and the communal laundry room of the apartment complex, and when you’re both checking your mail at the same time. You always greet him with a smile and ask the typical casual conversation questions – how he's liking his new job (he’s not, but he tells you it’s going fine), if Wade is staying out of trouble (no), and how Laura is doing (she’s doing great, actually), but it never progresses much past that.

The tension that builds is so well done. This one really got me into the story, I've never read one with this idea so I thought it was really interesting and fun to read. Sometimes tension is hard to build up, and with the background and characters in the beginning of the story to now and a bit later on, when the 'peak' comes, it feels so well deserves and satisfying. I'm jealous of how you do that 😭

Images of you straddling him with your bare, wet cunt rubbing against his happy trail, getting yourself off on his body as he plays with your pretty tits – He let’s out an audible growl and rips the shower curtain open before turning on the water – straight to his normal hot temperature, too. He knows a cold shower isn't going to do him any good right now. Standing beneath the hot stream, he thinks of what has transpired in the last five minutes and strokes himself in his hand until warm, white liquid follows the water down the drain. When he finishes, he stills hears your voice in his mind and gets hard again within minutes.

UGH. This part was insane. The build Logan begins to feel is so natural here, and as it goes on you can really sense how needy and hard it is for him to handle it. Someone like him being pent up is such a fun concept.

It’s a pretty small couch – really more like a loveseat – so it’s a snug fit for the two of you. The skin of your exposed kneecap brushes against the fabric of his jeans as you lean forward to grab yourself a slice of pizza.

These little tidbits of details feel so authentic and real, I adore each and every one. Just like the exposed midriff, the tiny details that add to what we already know, urging Logan's desires on and on.

During the second act of the movie, he wonders what you’re thinking - if you could possibly be feeling the same way as him – when you randomly sit forward, grab the box of the leftover pizza off of the table in front of you, and stand to take it to your refrigerator. It's then that he picks up on an odor – not the light floral aroma of your perfume but something new. A scent that answers the question of exactly what you had been thinking about. It’s musky and pheromonal, and even though it’s been a while since Logan has been intimate enough with a woman to smell the scent of her arousal, he recognizes it right away.

I'm always a sucker for ferals to use their senses and how writers include it in fics. Logan's sense of smell is insane so he would of course smell the reader's arousal. I love love that and how you described it was amazing.

“You know, if my sense of smell is as good as my sense of hearing, then I think I have a pretty good idea of what you’re thinking about right now,” Logan starts, his voice low and gruff. He watches from his peripheral vision as you freeze, your form going rigid. “But I’d really like to hear you say it.”

Yess, FINALLY. Be bold.

He knows you’re trying to play it cool, but there’s certain things that you just can’t hide from him – like the way your heart is beating a mile a minute and the way your nipples have pebbled beneath the thin material of your tank top.

Love this little detail a lot too <3

He pulls your hand off of him and then tugs you over his erection, trying his hardest to ignore the way the wetness between your legs glides against the tip of his cock, until you’re flat against the hard expanse of his lower stomach. “This is what you wanted, yeah?” He grunts. You whimper in response, tightening your thighs around his sides and rocking back and forth with the smallest amount of friction. “Don’t be holding back, wanna feel you make a mess on me.”

This entire bit was super hot too, the idea of this happening was sooo good. His demeanor and actions, the light teasing and slapping was just perfection. It was perfectly balanced, and I re-read this bit a few times.

“We can stop here,” he murmurs against your lips when he breaks the kiss, even though the thought kills him. He doesn’t want to stop kissing you, touching you, tasting you. It’s only been a few months, but it feels like he’s been waiting a lifetime for this and the last thing he wants is for it to come to an end. “Don’t have to go any further if you don’t—” “No,” you exclaim with a breathy laugh. “No, I don’t want to stop. Do you want to stop?” He grins up at you, taking his length in his hand and teasing it through your folds from below you. He coats the head in your juices before nudging it against your hole. “Definitely don’t wanna stop, sweetheart.”

This gets overlooked a lot but I personally really, really like this part. Enough self control to ask reader if they want to stop, if everything is fine, just giving that option to stop if they wanted to. That is such a good detail and shows the depth of care. It's really refreshing each time I see something like this added in a smut fic.

“Remind me to eavesdrop on your conversations more often,” he huffs a laugh, still slightly out of breath. You bring your lips to his, smiling as you give him a light kiss. “I’ll know if you do. I have a doorbell camera. You didn’t notice that?”

LMAO girl-😂😭

i got it bad

logan howlett x reader (worst!logan x reader)

word count: 4.9k

summary/prompt: logan can't help that he has super hearing and overhears you - wade's seemingly sweet, shy neighbor - telling vanessa what you fantasize about doing to him. believing that you won't ever act on it, he takes matters into his own hands.

or - getting yourself off on logan's abs

warnings/tags: smut, 18+ only mdni, reader is afab, no use of y/n, logan's pov, porn with a little plot, male masturbation, teasing, nipple/breast play, some tit slaps, multiple orgasms, unprotected p in v, cream pie

Ever since Logan first met you, he hasn’t been able to get you out of his fucking head.

Which is really unfortunate for him, considering you seem indifferent to his existence.

Wade says that you're just an introvert, and that it takes you a while to get comfortable around new people, but after living across the hallway from you for the last few months, Logan is sure that you have no interest in him outside of simple, polite conversation whenever the two of you run into each other.

He first notices you from across the room when you enter Wade and Althea's apartment – his apartment now, too, he supposes. The small space is crowded, but you're impossible for him to overlook. He instantly recognizes you from the polaroid picture that Wade had showed him in the Void.

You’re greeted by Vanessa, who kisses you on the cheek and shoves a drink in your hand before dragging you over to where Logan is listening to Wade and Althea bicker about – what were they bickering about again? All he can focus on is the way your dress hugs your curves and the lipstick imprint that you’ve left on the champagne flute in your hand.

He needs to get out more. Go to a bar, get a job, maybe even try out one of those dating apps that Vanessa has suggested to him – something to get him out of this fucking apartment that he's stayed holed up in since arriving in this universe, because he should not be this flustered by a complete stranger.

“Earth to Peanut,” Wade snaps his fingers in front of Logan’s face. He barely processed anything Vanessa had said while she introduced you. Blah blah, neighbor, something something, lives down the hallway. “Jesus, did you get into the white powder under the floorboard? Your pupils are as big as saucers right now.”

“Oh, go easy on him, Wade,” Althea scolds. “It’s natural for pupils to dilate when looking at a pretty girl.”

The expression on your face matches how Logan feels – surprised, embarrassed, slightly mortified.

“You don't even know what she looks like. She could look like me for all you know,” Wade snorts.

“She brings me homemade cookies and she always smells good,” Al retorts. “I don't need to be able to see her to know that she's pretty.”

“Nice to meet you,” Logan finally speaks up with a forced smile. Leave it to his two roommates to make a simple introduction as awkward as possible. “And no, I am not high on cocaine,” he adds with a pointed glare at Wade.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Logan,” you return the sentiment with a chortle and shy smile. “And don’t worry, I never pay attention to anything Wade says.”

Yukio and her girlfriend with the long ass name that Logan has yet to memorize then walk up and gain your attention, leaving Logan wishing he could redo the entire interaction.

He spends the rest of the night hoping for an opportunity to talk to you again, and feeling disappointed when that doesn’t happen.

The next couple of months go similarly. He runs into you frequently – in the elevator, and the communal laundry room of the apartment complex, and when you’re both checking your mail at the same time.

You always greet him with a smile and ask the typical casual conversation questions – how he's liking his new job (he’s not, but he tells you it’s going fine), if Wade is staying out of trouble (no), and how Laura is doing (she’s doing great, actually), but it never progresses much past that.

As soon as the conversation starts to venture into more personal territory, you seem to shut down. You’ll make some excuse about having somewhere to be, wish him a good day, and then you’re gone.

He can’t help himself. He sees how carefree and talkative you can be with Vanessa and hell, even Wade – and he wants that. At least then he may feel a little less crazy for spending so much of his free time racking his brain for ways to get closer to you.

Maybe it’s because it has been so long since he’s had a crush on anyone, but sometimes he thinks he might be losing his mind with how often he thinks of you – your smile, your eyes, your scent, your voice, and the way that having a five minute conversation with you always leaves him feeling for the rest of the day.

That’s why when he’s walking to his apartment one evening, and hears his name come from inside your apartment, he stops dead in his fucking tracks.

God, he knows he shouldn’t listen. He knows he should keep walking, go into his apartment and close the door.

But it’s not like he has his ear pressed up against your door. It’s not his fault that he has super hearing and that the apartment building has paper thin walls.

His brain is yelling at his feet to move but they stay planted firm right where they are.

“He thinks you don’t like him, you know,” Vanessa says. Logan doesn’t need to be able to see to know that there’s a smirk on her face.

He’s tempted to cause some kind of commotion in the hallway and then dash into his apartment, just to stop Vanessa from saying whatever the hell she’s about to say.

“Logan?” You sound appalled. “Of course I like him.”

“I know that you like him,” Vanessa chuckles. “But I can see why he would think otherwise. You act like you can barely stand to be in the same room as the guy for five minutes.”

“That’s not true.” Your voice shoots up several octaves higher than normal.

Logan sends a silent prayer to whoever the fuck is listening that no one walks down this hallway in the next few minutes and sees him standing still as a statue next to your apartment door.

“It’s not that I simply can’t stand to be in the same room as him,” you continue, lowering your voice back down to its normal volume. “It’s that being in the same room as him makes me want to jump his adamantium bones.”

For a second, he really believes that his two hundred year old heart might stop beating.

“I’m fucking pathetic around him,” you huff. “Last week, I saw him pull his t-shirt off in the laundry room to put a clean one on, and ever since then I haven’t been able to stop thinking about grinding my pussy against his abs. Something is seriously wrong with me, Nes.”

But Logan doesn’t hear Vanessa’s response, because he speed walks away while she’s still cackling. By some miracle, Wade isn’t home, so Logan darts past Althea and locks himself in the bathroom.

What the fuck, Jesus Christ, and holy shit all play on a loop in his mind while he tries to ignore the bulge that has quickly formed in his jeans.

The last words he expected to hear anyone say today were jump his adamantium bones and grinding my pussy against his abs – but the fact that he heard those words come from your mouth in your sweet voice has his cock throbbing so hard that he can't think of anything other than you doing exactly what you’ve been fantasizing about.

Images of you straddling him with your bare, wet cunt rubbing against his happy trail, getting yourself off on his body as he plays with your pretty tits –

He let’s out an audible growl and rips the shower curtain open before turning on the water – straight to his normal hot temperature, too. He knows a cold shower isn't going to do him any good right now.

Standing beneath the hot stream, he thinks of what has transpired in the last five minutes and strokes himself in his hand until warm, white liquid follows the water down the drain.

When he finishes, he stills hears your voice in his mind and gets hard again within minutes.

••••••

Logan hasn’t seen you in three days. Three days might not seem like a long time to go without seeing your neighbor, but it feels like a long fucking time for him. In fact, it’s the longest he’s gone without casually running into you since he first met you months ago.

There’s a reason for this, though – he hasn’t checked his mail in days, hasn’t taken any of his laundry down to the basement in days, and has generally tried to avoid leaving his apartment as much as he can out of fear that he’ll see you. He even went as far as to pretend to be napping when you came by with some fresh baked brownies for Althea yesterday.

He wants to see you, of course. Goddamn, does he want to see you. But after overhearing your conversation with Vanessa earlier this week, he doesn’t know if he’s strong enough to look you in the eye and pretend like he hasn't been making himself cum to the thought of you on top of him every time he takes a shower.

But after three days, he finds himself missing you too much to keep up his attempt at distancing himself from you.

What if he’s being ridiculous, staying cooped in this apartment to avoid you? What if you’re just down the hallway, thinking about him at the same time he’s thinking of you?

He's tidying up the kitchen when he sees the pink Tupperware container that you’d brought the brownies in yesterday sitting in the sink. The brownies were long gone – they’d all been eaten by him, Wade and Al within the same hour that you brought them over.

Taking the Tupperware back to you would be the nice, neighborly thing to do, right?

With Al already retired to her bedroom for the evening, and Wade out with Vanessa, he takes it upon himself to wash and dry the container.

It’s a Friday night, so he knows there’s a chance that you’ve got plans and might not even be home, but he still takes a few minutes to fix his hair and swipe some deodorant on before walking down the hallway towards your apartment.

As he approaches your door, he realizes that you are home. There’s light spilling from the crack at the bottom of the doorframe and he can hear low music playing inside. A mix of anxiety and anticipation sets in, but he clears his throat and knocks on your door before he can chicken out.

He hears your footsteps approaching and attempts to wipe any sign of nervousness from his face – he’s just returning your Tupperware, for Christ's sake.

“Logan,” you breathe as you open the door. “I haven’t seen you in a few days,” you greet him. He can’t help but relax at the smile that grows on your face when you realize it’s him. “What are you up to this evening?”

You lean against your doorframe, and Logan has to force himself to maintain eye contact. You’re wearing a matching pajama set – a cute pair of velvet shorts and tank top that shows more of your skin than he’s ever seen before.

“I – uh,” he stammers, holding out the Tupperware container to you. “I just thought I’d bring this back to you. They were great, by the way.”

Your smile spreads to your eyes at his compliment.

“Oh, thanks,” you beam. “I’m glad you got to have one. Wade told me that you were asleep when I came by yesterday so I figured he’d have them eaten by the time you woke up.”

“I’m sure he would have, but Al made him save one for me,” he laughs.

He tries to focus on the conversation at hand, but the fact that you look fresh out of the shower definitely isn’t fucking helping. Bare faced with the scent of your body wash and lotion on your skin, his thoughts begin to stray into dangerous territory fast.

“I don’t wanna interrupt your night, though. I’ll let you get back to—”

“You’re not,” you say quickly as he begins to step backwards. “You're not interrupting. Are you doing anything tonight? I just ordered a pizza and there’s plenty. I was gonna watch a movie, if you want…” You trail off, glancing back and forth between him and your apartment behind you.

He can't help but notice that your voice sounds hopeful.

The invitation excites him more than he cares to admit. Sure, the two of you have hung out plenty of times, but it's always been in a group setting – at one of Wade’s get togethers or movie nights, surrounded by other friends.

But never just the two of you – definitely never in your apartment.

He could never think of saying no to you. Especially not when this is what he's been hoping for since he first me you.

“Yeah. Yeah, I'd really like that.”

You hold the door open for him, letting him enter your apartment. Right away, he notices how different it is from the one that he lives in. Then again, there’s three people cramped into Althea’s – you're the only person who lives here, so you're able to make it entirely your own.

It’s cute, and cozy, he thinks. From your furniture adorned with throw pillows and blankets, to all of your shelves stocked with books, knick-knacks and candles, to the various plants occupying space throughout the living room, it feels endearing and welcoming right away.

“So, where’s Wade at tonight?” you ask as he ventures into the living room. He notes a large cardboard box with an untouched pizza in it on your coffee table. His stomach growls at the sight, and it hits him that he actually is fucking starving.

“He’s out with Vanessa. Fourth time this week,” he answers, turning to find you retrieving two plates from a cabinet in your kitchen. You're angled away from him, and when you raise your arms to grab the plates, your tank top lifts enough to give him a clear view of your midriff. He quickly averts his gaze, pretending to find something on your bookshelf particularly interesting.

“I’m just really glad that they’ve worked through things and seem to be happy now,” you sigh. “He wasn’t in a good place after their breakup. Barely ever left his apartment for the longest time.”

“They’ve got something special, that’s for sure,” Logan agrees.

You hand him a plate, walking past him to your couch. You toss some of the decorative throw pillows to your recliner, making room for him on the sofa. You pat the empty space beside you, an invitation for him to make himself at home.

“Who knows, maybe they'll even get their own place soon and I won’t have to share the living room with him anymore,” he says as he sits down beside you.

It’s a pretty small couch – really more like a loveseat – so it’s a snug fit for the two of you. The skin of your exposed kneecap brushes against the fabric of his jeans as you lean forward to grab yourself a slice of pizza.

“Sounds like you just want Blind Al and Mary Puppins all to yourself,” you tease. You hand him a piece of pizza and close the box before propping your feet up on the table. You lean back, looking at him with a smirk and raised brows.

“If he moves, that dog is going with him and you know it. There’s no way he’d leave her behind,” he shakes his head.

“There’s no way Althea would let him take her. She's grown to be as attached to her as Wade is. I think even you like her more than you care to admit.”

“What can I say? She has a way of weaseling herself into your heart,” Logan sighs.

“Oh, it’s definitely the tongue,” you shrug through a bite of pizza.

Logan grimaces as a vivid image of Mary Puppins French kissing Wade awake flashes through his mind, but he can't help but laugh.

You turn on some action-comedy that Logan has never heard of, and the two of you eat and take turns making comments about whatever is happening on the screen for the first half of the movie.

He tries to stay focused on the film, he really does, but every now and then you readjust your position on the couch, causing him to catch a whiff of your perfume or your thigh will brush against his and he'll have to force his attention back to the characters on the screen.

No matter how distracting he may find your mere presence beside him, he's enjoying himself. This is by far the longest the two of you have hung out together, without the additions of his roommates and other friends. He dreads the moment that the movie ends and he’s obligated to tell you goodnight before reluctantly going back to his own apartment.

During the second act of the movie, he wonders what you’re thinking - if you could possibly be feeling the same way as him – when you randomly sit forward, grab the box of the leftover pizza off of the table in front of you, and stand to take it to your refrigerator.

It's then that he picks up on an odor – not the light floral aroma of your perfume but something new. A scent that answers the question of exactly what you had been thinking about. It’s musky and pheromonal, and even though it’s been a while since Logan has been intimate enough with a woman to smell the scent of her arousal, he recognizes it right away.

When you sit back down beside him, the sweet smell washes over him again and he bites the inside of his lip so hard that he tastes blood. The wound disappears as quickly as it’s formed, but the same can’t be said for the erection that begins to strain against the confines of his boxers.

He eyes the pile of small, decorative pillows that you had tossed to the side and wishes that he could grab one to place over his lap.

The words that you’d said to Vanessa a few days ago begin replaying in his mind for the thousandth time since he’d first heard you say them, reminding him this isn’t one-sided. He may be sitting here attempting to conceal a raging hard-on by shifting his position and subtly adjusting his pants, but Logan’s heightened sense of smell tells him that your underwear are probably starting to feel as uncomfortable as his do at the moment.

Without turning his head, he risks a glance at you. Your eyes are on the movie, and your face is neutral, but your posture gives you away. Your arms are crossed over your chest, the tips of your fingernails digging tiny crescent shaped indentations into the flesh of your upper arm. You have one of your thighs crossed over the other, locked together tightly but that doesn’t stop him from being able to smell how fucking wet you are.

“You know, if my sense of smell is as good as my sense of hearing, then I think I have a pretty good idea of what you’re thinking about right now,” Logan starts, his voice low and gruff. He watches from his peripheral vision as you freeze, your form going rigid.

“But I’d really like to hear you say it.”

You turn to him, your eyebrows quirked but your face otherwise impassive.

“I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about. What exactly is it that you’d like to hear me say?” you ask innocently. You give him doe eyes that make his cock finish filling with blood.

He huffs a laugh, picking up on the way that your heartrate accelerates when you look at him.

“I'd like to hear you say what you said to Vanessa a few days ago,” he hums. “I can’t remember exactly, but I think it had something to do with you rubbing your sweet little cunt on my abs. Does that sound familiar to you?”

“Hm,” you feign contemplation. “That doesn’t really sound like something I'd say.”

He knows you’re trying to play it cool, but there’s certain things that you just can’t hide from him – like the way your heart is beating a mile a minute and the way your nipples have pebbled beneath the thin material of your tank top.

“You’re right. It doesn't sound like something you’d say,” he snorts, and leans in so that your face is just a few inches from his. “So imagine my surprise when I walked by your apartment to hear you talking about jumping my adamantium bones.”

He doesn't miss the way your breath catches in your throat or how your eyes flicker to his lips.

“You gonna do it? Or you just gonna keep thinking about it while you're sitting beside me?”

For a second, you say nothing and Logan struggles to read your expression. Then, without taking your eyes off of him, you slowly stand in front of the couch. You reach for the hem of your tank top and pull it over your head, leaving you naked from the waist up.

Logan's mouth goes dry. Suddenly, he's all out of smart remarks.

You hook your thumbs into the waistband of your pajama shorts, pushing them down your thighs along with your panties, and let them both drop to your feet all while holding his gaze.

With you now stark naked before him, he leans forward, grasping you by the backs of your thighs and pulling you onto his lap. You straddle him, gently pushing him back against the sofa.

He tugs his own shirt over his head while you undo his belt buckle and pop open the top button of his jeans, your hands fumbling when he sheds his shirt.

Logan doesn’t typically think too much about his physical appearance. He knows he’s in good shape, and thinks he’s conventionally attractive enough. But he could see himself getting a bit of an ego, if he had someone looking at him the way you are right now on a regular basis.

You help him shimmy his jeans and boxers down far enough for his cock to spring free. You take him in your hand, using your thumb to smear the thick bead of pre-cum across the head.

“You should be careful listening to people’s conversations outside of their doors,” you hum as you pump him in one hand. You hunch over, lowering your mouth enough to spit down his shaft, lubricating the length. You smirk, glancing up at him from beneath your thick eyelashes. “Other people might not react as happily as me.”

Fuck, he knows it’s been a long time since he's even felt anyone’s hands on him, but he feels a little pathetic at the way his balls are already tightening and feeling so heavy just from the way you’re languidly stroking him.

And as much as he’d love for you to keep your hands on him, there’s time for him later. Right now, what he wants more than anything is the feeling of your pussy on him.

He pulls your hand off of him and then tugs you over his erection, trying his hardest to ignore the way the wetness between your legs glides against the tip of his cock, until you’re flat against the hard expanse of his lower stomach.

“This is what you wanted, yeah?” He grunts. You whimper in response, tightening your thighs around his sides and rocking back and forth with the smallest amount of friction. “Don’t be holding back, wanna feel you make a mess on me.”

His words seem to erase any remaining reservation that you may have had. You brace your hands on his chest and begin dragging your center across his lower stomach, your slick coating the thick trail of hair that goes from his belly button to his waistline. With every backstroke, the head of his cock juts against your ass.

You glide across him easily. Soft, wet, and warm, Logan thinks that if you feel this good on his fucking stomach then there’s no way he’ll be able to handle being inside you.

He leans his head forward, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth. You hold his head in your hands, tugging on his hair with your fingers as he teases your nipple with his tongue and teeth.

He pulls his mouth away from your breast with a wet pop. “You like this? Using me to get yourself off?”

“Mm-hmm,” you nod frantically, your answer coming out as a moan. He gives a quick, firm slap to your other breast. Judging by the sound it draws from you, you like it, so he does it again.

He'd pictured this exact scenario a shameful number of times in the last few days, but his thoughts hadn’t done you justice. Every little noise you make, every little whimper and moan as your clit brushes against the thick bulges of his muscles again and again, sounds sweeter than he could've dreamed.

He places his hands on the meat of your hips, guiding you forwards and backwards across his abdomen at a fast pace.

“Fuck,” you gasp, clenching your thighs around him as tight as you can. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum—”

“That’s right,” he coos. “Come on, cum on me.”

You dig your fingernails into his shoulders, drenching the hair on his stomach as you ride out your orgasm on him with a cry of his name.

You collapse against his chest, going still with your face in the crook of his neck as you steady your breathing.

“Look at me,” he whispers after a moment. It hits him that despite the fact that you just humped him until you came all over his abdomen, he somehow hasn’t even kissed you yet.

You pull away from his neck, looking down at him with a dazed expression. He brings your face to his mouth by the back of your neck. He wastes no more time, instantly slipping his tongue past your lips.

He holds you by the globes of your ass, which hovers just above his erection. You grind down, causing the tip of his cock to nudge against your entrance. He groans into your mouth, his cock past the point of feeling like it’s going to explode if he doesn’t fucking feel you.

“We can stop here,” he murmurs against your lips when he breaks the kiss, even though the thought kills him. He doesn’t want to stop kissing you, touching you, tasting you. It’s only been a few months, but it feels like he’s been waiting a lifetime for this and the last thing he wants is for it to come to an end. “Don’t have to go any further if you don’t—”

“No,” you exclaim with a breathy laugh. “No, I don’t want to stop. Do you want to stop?”

He grins up at you, taking his length in his hand and teasing it through your folds from below you. He coats the head in your juices before nudging it against your hole.

“Definitely don’t wanna stop, sweetheart.”

You sink down onto him at the same moment that he tilts his hips up enough to slip inside you, causing the entirety of his length to fill you at once.

You both go still, adjusting to the new sensation of each other. Your walls, velvet soft and so warm, constrict around him like a vice. He knows you’re likely tired from riding him through your first orgasm, so he begins thrusting his hips slowly, the tip of his cock nudging against your cervix.

“You’re big. So, so big,” you moan – something between a whine and a praise.

“I know, but you’re doing so good, honey,” he encourages as he eases himself in and out of you. “Don’t worry, I got you.”

You latch your lips to his again, and it’s hard for him to hold back. The feeling of your tight, perfect cunt around him and the taste of your tongue in his mouth is overwhelming. He wants to memorize every movement, every sound you make.

You snake your hand between your bodies, your fingertips finding your swollen clit and massaging languid circles. He feels you flutter around him as you start meeting his thrusts with movements of your own, and he knows you’re close.

“Not gonna last much longer, honey,” he grunts with a sharp thrust. “Feel too fucking good.”

“Cum with me,” you murmur against his mouth.

Your command causes something in him to snap. He releases a throaty growl, pistoning his hips upwards at a harsh pace as he fills you up from below. You constrict around him, crying his name into his ear as you ride out your climaxes together.

You collapse against his chest once more, his cock still nestled inside you. He loses track of how long the two of you stay like that, neither of you wanting to be the first to move.

“Remind me to eavesdrop on your conversations more often,” he huffs a laugh, still slightly out of breath.

You bring your lips to his, smiling as you give him a light kiss.

“I’ll know if you do. I have a doorbell camera. You didn’t notice that?”

thank you so much for reading <3 comments and reblogs are super appreciated. here are a few more of my favorite logan pieces that i've written ✨️

for always and ever is always for you - old man logan x healer reader

diet pepsi - old man logan x reader limousine sex

lavender and velvet - worst variant logan x neighbor reader

[revelboo]

Me at your post:

Question. Have you ever thought about writing for the Constructicons? (Not with Prowl though). I think it would be hilarious.

Rewatched their G1 episodes today. Title is the song ‘Drive’ by The Matches. An attempt was made

Drive

Constructicons x Reader

• “I’m just saying. A little appreciation.” Exchanging a look with Long Haul, Scavenger tries to ignore Hook’s grumbling as they work. Pushing against a tree until the wood splinters and breaks so he can dove it over and drag it out of the way. Pausing to tip his head up at the night sky and wonder where home is. “We’re out here busting our afts and do we get any thanks?” Hook demands. No. What they’d gotten was their energon rations cut because in the Decepticon hierarchy, they’re not much higher than Insecticons. He doesn’t like it, but understands. Being forged here on this miserable mudball not Cybertron means being looked down upon. And he has no idea where Cybertron is among those glittering stars. Can it be home when he’s never set ped there?

• “We do our job. A fragging good job,” Scrapper says, trying to keep the peace as Bonecrusher utters a harsh laugh and Mixmaster just shakes his head at him. Like he doesn’t see the scorn. Knows the others think he’s oblivious, but he’s knows they’re looked down on until they’re needed. Devastator demands their respect, but on their own? They’re second class citizens. If even that. Some of the other Decepticons are all too happy to sneer at them, to assume that since they didn’t come from Cybertron they’re less.

• Bending to gouge up a handful of soil and to intake through his vents, separating out the individual components in his head, Mixmaster growls. Scenting those trace amounts of energon that are the whole reason they’re out here in the middle of nowhere. “No one wants to hear that, though,” Mixmaster mutters. “They want us to work and keep quiet. It’s here.” Glancing at his brother when Bonecrusher bumps him. “They’re scared of us,” Bonecrusher growls, beginning to aggressively clear the land of trees, movements sloppy and giving away that he’s been into the high grade. But they all know it’s Devastator that’s feared, not them. They’re tools. Nothing more. Disrespected and mocked by the rest of the Decepticons. Something they all feel and that gets compounded when they’re combined. That dissatisfaction growing every time they combine, spreading and feeding on itself when they separate again. Reaching a boiling point with no outlet to let off some steam. Except to destroy something. And there’s nothing here but trees.

• Exhausted and not even tempted by the hot, greasy smell of fast food in the bag in the passenger seat, you go over the list in your head again. Trying to remember if you’ve gotten at least a little something for everyone. That you’re ready for the upcoming holiday. You’d volunteered to work the day before for the extra cash, but you keep wondering if you’re forgetting something. Distracted you almost miss the huge, dark shape that comes sailing out of the woods. Slamming a foot on the brake as your car slides with a scream of tires, a tree slams into the road ahead of you and goes end over end in a shower of pine needles and broken branches. What? Toggling your emergency lights on, you put the car into park and get out, wincing at the biting cold. And your breath catches as it sinks in that a tree chucked like a javelin even though there’s no wind, no plausible explanation, nearly took you out. Squinting into the dark woods, your skin prickles as a red glow flares in the shadows. Then five more.

• Hears Bonecrusher laugh and Long Haul turns to follow his stare. Sees the tiny shape through the trees silhouetted by the headlights of the car behind them. There’s no way the little human can see anything more than the glow of their optics. But there’s a whisper of excitement twisting through him as Scrapper says, “Bottle of engex to whoever squishes it before it ruins everything.”

• Heart in your throat as those red glows shift and a branch cracks, there’s a roar from the trees that crackles through you and you forget the car. Forget everything beyond the animal need to get away. Running as trees crack and get uprooted with thunderous noise behind you to send you racing across the road and into the woods on the other side in a blind panic. Don’t even know what’s chasing you, only that you don’t want to find out. Is this what a rabbit feels like with hungry foxes snapping at its heels?

• Heavy peds tearing up dirt and leaves as he tries to overtake Hook, Scavenger hears Mixmaster calling out to the organic. Laughingly saying they only want to play. You’re surprisingly fast for being so small, but even noisier than Bonecrusher somehow. Energon pumping through his lines as you break from the trees, just a little shadow silvered by the moon, almost unreal looking as you pelt through the tall grass. Catches a glimpse of terrified eyes when you glance back and then you go down, disappearing completely.

• “Where’d it go?” Hook growls, reaching to push Scavenger out of his way as the rest of his brothers catch up and he realizes there’s a sheet drop, the ground giving way so suddenly you hadn’t seen it in time to react. Leaning down to look at the still form lying in the shallow stream at the bottom, there’s a momentary flicker of disappointment. Because chasing you had made him feel more alive than he’d felt in a long time. The hunt a high almost as sweet as combining.

• Lingering at the edge of the ravine, spark pulsing still with the excitement of your fear, Scrapper’s aware of Mixmaster and Bonecrusher shoving at each other. Of Long Haul and Scavenger both still staring down at their quarry. Turning away to order them back to work, he hesitates as Scavenger bumps his arm with a fist. “It’s still alive.” And he hears the low, pained sound from the little human. “Pretty fun to chase,” Long Haul adds, shooting him a look. Primus, are they wanting to keep you? Like a pet? All five of his brothers are staring at him now. Waiting for his decision. And groaning in defeat, he gestures at the drop. “Fine, but I’m not cleaning up after it.” Because you’re a distraction, something to keep them from dwelling on how unhappy they all are.

[gilbertscurls]

calling after me — matt sturniolo

summary: where you hang up on matt without saying "i love you"

The house was quiet, with only the soft hum of the refrigerator and the occasional rustle of a breeze through the open windows breaking the stillness. You had spent the afternoon catching up on some reading, enjoying the peaceful solitude. Matt was out for the day, running errands and meeting with friends, and you had talked briefly before he left.

You were feeling a bit playful and decided on a light-hearted prank to pass the time. You picked up your phone, knowing that Matt would likely call you later in the day just to check in. Your plan was to hang up on him without saying “I love you” back, just to see how he would react. It was a harmless trick, meant only to spark a little fun.

A few hours later, your phone rang, and you saw Matt’s name flashing on the screen. You took a deep breath, your excitement building, and answered with your usual cheerful tone.

“Hey, Matt! How’s it going?”

Matt’s voice came through the phone, sounding upbeat. “Hey, baby! Everything’s good. Just finishing up a few things. How about you? Missed you today.”

You smiled, enjoying the sound of his voice. “I’ve been good. Just relaxing and getting some stuff done around here.”

You chatted for a few minutes, exchanging stories about your day. You could hear the warmth and affection in Matt’s voice, and you felt a pang of guilt for what you were about to do. But you pushed it aside, determined to go through with your prank.

“Well, I should probably get going,” Matt said. “I’ll be heading home soon. Love you.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. You hesitated for a moment, then decided to go through with the prank. “Okay, see you soon,” you said, and before Matt could say anything else, you abruptly hung up the call.

The sudden silence in the room felt almost too loud. You waited, your playful grin slowly fading as you wondered how Matt would react. A few moments later, your phone buzzed with a text message from Matt.

“Is everything okay? Did I do something wrong?”

Your heart sank as you read his message. You hadn’t expected him to be so concerned. You quickly typed a response.

“I’m sorry, Matt. I was just playing a little prank. I love you!”

Almost immediately, Matt called you back, and this time, you answered with a sense of urgency.

“Hey, Matt. I’m really sorry about that. It was just a silly prank.”

Matt’s voice was a mix of relief and slight confusion. “You scared me for a second there. I thought something might be wrong. You didn’t say ‘I love you’ back, and I was worried.”

Your heart ached at his concern. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I just wanted to see how you’d react.”

Matt sighed, his voice softening. “You know, I’m glad you’re okay, but you don’t need to pull pranks like that. It’s just, when you didn’t say ‘I love you,’ it felt like something was off.”

You felt a wave of guilt and affection. “I understand. I really do love you, Matt. I’m sorry if I made you worry.”

Matt’s tone turned tender. “I love you too, baby. Just… Maybe next time, let’s skip the pranks. They’re not as fun when they make you worry.”

Your eyes softened, and she smiled. “Agreed. I’ll make it up to you when you get home. Promise.”

Matt chuckled softly. “Looking forward to it. See you soon.”

And when he returned home, you spent the evening making up for the prank with extra hugs, laughter, and heartfelt moments.

tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06, @asherrisrandom, @sturniolowhore69, @faith5drpepper, @emely9274, @psychologyloverfr, @lovetaylorrussellgrr, @conspiracy-ash, @helpimateenagerinlove, @ghostlythinggoingaround, @sturmatt, @chris-hallelujah, @goingtojohnkramershouseee, @wurlibydominicfike, @straw8berry, @shadowthesim