#but the trust that he desperately needed in the car came only this weekend

[rickybaby]

When Daniel at the end of his McLaren stint, said that he has driven many F1 cars and knows what a good F1 car feels like. When he once again said he knows when something is not right with his car and he gets proven right again.

Just to say he is not the type to blame his bad performances on the car and if he is saying something is wrong, it’s because it comes from experience

[mv1simp]

for anon’s request: How about Lewis’ Daughter!reader like innocent and protected but Max completely makes her submit to him like actual love that she thinks Lewis is the bad guy for tryna come between their relationship? (Made it Lewis’ sister!)

Gods & Monsters ♥️

Max Verstappen x Hamilton!Reader

You got that medicine I need, fame liquor love, give it to me slowly…

As Lewis Hamilton’s younger, innocent sister, you’re desperate to prove yourself as an upcoming racer. Your family never seems to take you seriously, though, and after a fall out you end up training under Max Verstappen - your brother’s arch rival. Max promises he’ll train you to become the next world champion…as long as you do everything he asks.

Content includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, innocent virgin Hamilton! Reader, dark manipulative! Max, VERY dubcon, blindfolds, size kink, somnophilia, LH44 is sexist for plot reasons, ayo this is DARK!! 😙 3.4k WC

Growing up, you and your big brother Lewis were presented with two options. Either succeed, or fail to live upto the Hamilton name. Both your parents were incredibly hardworking and sacrificing - but all their attention would always go to their firstborn, the much older, bigger and better Hamilton. You were just as good as Lewis had been when starting out, spending every weekend on the track and dominating the junior karting races - but when it came time for you to progress into formula cars, your brother and father had chuckled, patting your head and saying it might be a bit too much for you, you were a lot smaller and younger than Lewis, after all. Maybe you should just stick to karting for now, or had you considered going into car design, you got pretty good grades in uni and that’s a much safer option?

You were understandably upset at the lack of opportunity to prove your last name. So you tried to sneak onto the F1 paddock, chatting up the team principals in the hope that they would recognise you from the karting podiums and recruit you into their junior teams-

But Lewis had caught on unbelievably fast, a tight smile and redirecting hand on your back as he led you out of the McLaren garage. We discussed this, baby sis Lewis said as you walked back to the Mercedes hospitality. He was never one to raise his voice but you could tell from his tone he was disappointed. You tried to argue again, saying that it wasn’t fair, you were a good driver too, but Lewis cut you off with a stern look. It’s not safe for you. The guys who race here - they aren’t like me, lil sis. You can’t trust any of them. I’m sorry, but you should stay in karting.

You’d slumped in resignation, briefly looking into the Redbull garage as you walked past - the only team you hadn’t yet gone to talk to. And home to perhaps the only driver who could understand the pressure you felt to live upto your father’s expectation - current reigning champion, Max Verstappen. Otherwise known as the bane of your family’s existence. He’d been the one to break your big brother’s winning streak, the subject of many a heated family discussion over the dinner table about how to defeat in a race. Truly, you hadn’t seen your big brother hate someone before until the day Max had crashed into him, sending him to the hospital and your heart rate into 200bpm as you prayed for his safety. Lewis had been fine, but his winning streak had not as Max went onto P1 that race.

So you had always learnt to stay far, far away from Mad Max. But last year when you’d been having a hard time on one of your karting races, and you paced back and forth during the red flag because normally you’d ask Lewis for help but he had started coming less often these days - you were interrupted by a knock on the door. You ran to open it, thinking your brother had decided to come after all - only to crane your head up to meet the handsome face of the tall Dutch Redbull driver. You’d immediately flushed, on guard just like your family had taught you to be and asking what he was doing - but he had kindly ignored your rudeness and said he happened to be here for another friend and had seen your race, did you need some advice?

You’d been so desperate to win that you had let him in, looking around to make sure no paparazzi had seen as you were sure Lewis would ban you permanently from karting if he caught a whiff of this. To your suprise, Max was so helpful and supportive, giving you excellent pointers and aggressive strategies your brother would never dare guide you towards. You’d gone onto win P1, and after the podium had excitedly gone to find Max and thank him. Of course, schat, he’d replied easily, a handsome smile on his face, making you blush. Since then Max had always been there to guide you at your races, making you win multiple competitions to celebrate together or comfort you after a loss. Your family had no idea, of course, because they would skin both you and Max alive if they ever knew about your close friendship.

But now, things were starting to reach a boiling point as your relationship with your brother became tense as he actively tried to deter your formula career. And Max - your kind, thoughtful friend Max - had definitely noticed this. So he casually informed you that the Redbull academy was recruiting, and personally drove you the trials the next week, and welcomed your excited hug into his broad arms afterwards as you sailed into P1 and were offered an immediate spot on the Redbull F2 team, so grateful that the older, experienced driver had taken such a genuine interest in your racing, unlike your own family.

When you tried to break the good news to your family, shit had obviously hit the fan and they demanded that you decline the position. It’s not that I’m not proud of you baby sis, Lewis had sighed. It’s that you cannot trust Max Verstappen, seriously - he only thinks about himself. He’ll definitely hurt you or use you to hurt me.

You had screamed and cried, saying that Max had been the only one to look out for you these last few months. You’d called the Dutchman for advice, sniffling and saying I’m sorry Maxie, they won’t let me go, I have to decline-

He’d gently interrupted and reminded you that you’re an adult, you know schat? And an incredibly talented driver. You should put yourself first for a change. You’d hesitated, because you’d never done anything without your family closely supervising you before - but where would you go, you say confused. You didn’t know anyone - you know me, Max offered. Come stay at mine while you sort things out, but don’t let it delay starting your F2 season.

You’d started crying again, telling the Dutch driver how lucky you were to have him as a friend. And that’s how you found yourself tucked into his much larger frame, on his private jet en route to Monaco, fast asleep from the emotionally charged day as he lovingly kissed your forehead. And your temporary residence at his penthouse dragged into months into an indefinite stay as he insisted it was safer for you, given the papparazzi that had gone crazy at the youngest Hamilton sibling switching sides - just for now, until it dies down. You’d gratefully accepted, becoming accustomed to his luxurious lifestyle and wanting to be in close proximity to Max. It was hard to control the thumping of your heart as you scolded yourself internally for your crush on the tall driver, who you were sure only saw you as a junior driver to guide.

Before the season started, Max had warned you that your family would interfere and try to turn you against him. You hadn’t taken it seriously, but when Lewis approached you at your first race, demanded to speak to you in person after you’d been blocking his calls for days, Max had been all to happy to get security to escort him away after you’d started becoming upset, just like he knew you would. Don’t pay any mind to him, schat. He’s probably just jealous of your success.

You’d found that hard to believe, because although your big brother had a few annoying traits, he would always be genuinely happy about your wins. But Max had planted the seed of doubt that began to crumble your inner self worth, questioning if your big bro had only been holding you back because he wanted to remain the family champion. Remaining on edge, your anxiety began damaging your racing and dropping you in the rankings. You slept fretfully, paranoid that you were going to be benched and would be forced to go home in humiliation and hear your family’s we told you so.

You let Max climb into your bed one night when he heard your muffled cries, running a soothing hand up and down your back, hungrily enjoying the view of your thick ass as your silky nightie rode up while you sobbed into his strong chest. And when you opened up about all your worries, it was only natural that he offered to be the one to train you, being the current world champion and all, right? You had lit up, so delighted that he had offered, flushed because truly you’d never met anyone so kind and giving like him.

And Max - well, he would never let an opportunity to get back at Lewis slide by. Training his precious little sister, the one he always protectively hid away from the rest of the grid? Oh, it was almost too perfect, he thought darkly. And it was an added bonus that you were so gorgeous, all dark curls, innocent doe eyes and a soft, curvy 5 foot figure under his almost 6 foot frame. But my training is intense, schat. Very strict. He made you promise that you’d do whatever he asked, no matter how you felt, because it was the only way to win - and that you couldn’t tell anyone else about his top secret training methods, especially your big brother. You’d eagerly nodded your agreement, looking up at him with starry eyes and saying Yes Maxie, of course, I trust you, thank you so much for offering, I’m so grateful!

As the weeks went by, Max proved himself to be the best mentor you could ask for. You two would train together, going on morning jogs, drinking the same protein smoothies, discussing the best overtaking techniques. All the time you two spent together made rumours fly around the paddock about the exact nature of your relationship - but Max dismissed them all with a roll of his eyes, telling you that it was so sexist of people to assume you were his girlfriend and not his junior driver. You’d agreed, althought you couldn’t help feeling disappointed that Max didn’t seem to think about you in a romantic sense at all.

Your rankings started improving, but Max had said that you needed a lot more work if you wanted to reach P1, especially given your smaller size compared to the rest of the drivers. You nodded eagerly, curious when he easily picked you up and deposited you in between his thick thighs on his sim rig, ordering you to show him your driving. You’d been doing so well until he started brushing his large hands across your soft waist and whispering naughty things in your ear about how sexy you looked, how hard it was to resist you every night while you slept right next door to him. You’d squealed, confused and asking just what he was doing - Trying to test your ability to focus, to avoid any distractions, Max replies disapprovingly as your car crashed on the screen. Clearly, you have a lot of work to do. This isn’t good enough!

Oh, you’d replied, feeling foolish for thinking anything romantic of it. Max didn’t like you like that, after all. So you two resumed the daily sessions, him torturing you for hours with caresses all over your body, squeezing your soft tits and pinching your nipples through your tight camisoles, and sliding large fingers up the skirt he’d always make you wear to tease your embarrassingly damp slit. You’d gone pink in the face when he first felt it, stuttering out apologies but he just sweetly reassured you that it wasn’t your fault, just a normal reaction - like this, he’d said, pulling your small waist back so you grinded on something very large and hard tucked into his sweats. You’d never felt something like that before, having never had a boyfriend since your family always kept you under their protective eye.

But it felt sooo good, you thought guiltily, hoping Max wouldn’t mind when you would be unable to resist grinding against him some sessions. He never seemed to care, instead progressing you to the next level by slipping his cock out of his sweats one night and letting it bounce up against your most innocent parts. You had gone wide eyed seeing it for the first time, not expecting it to look soo big and thick and angry, making your stomach twist in fear. But it was business as usual as Max angrily scolded you for becoming distracted, making you restart as he began gliding his cock along your puffy folds - always separated by your soaked lace panties, of course.

Once you had become a master at being laser focused, he made you develop your senses next. A good driver is always in tune with the feel, the smell, the sound of the car, he explains. You don’t question him, obediently drooping onto your thick ass in front of his spread thighs as he wraps a silk tie across your eyes. You bite your lip from the sudden disorientation, feeling nervous, but Max’s large palm comfortingly strokes your hair. At his command you poke your tongue out and hold your palms up, waiting for the first test and he almost groans out loud from your sweet gullibility. You correctly identify a bunch of different exotic tasting fruits, specific switches and buttons on the replica steering wheel - and sassy, you giggle, when you feel Max’s cat climb into your lap. He muses that he’s going to have to give you something harder to figure out cause you’re so good as this, making you blush from the praise. You curiously hear a rustle as he steps closer and then he guides your small hands to something very long and thick. You experimentally rub your hands along it, hearing Max hiss. A banana? You say dumbly after a few beats, Cucumber?

Wrong, Max says, sounding a bit breathless. Why don’t you taste it, hmm? You diligently lick the tip of it with your delicate tongue, not recognising the heady, salty taste, and begin licking more and more as you become determined to figure it out. You don’t know how many minutes have passed but you aren’t any closer to guessing it, instead saying It tastes really good, Maxie, what is it? You hear him swear, grip tightening in your hair, and then he orders you to open your mouth wide to get a proper taste, his normally deep voice even huskier than normal. You feel him trace your plush lips with his thumb, making you feel that dirty tingly feeling in between your legs again, before the mysterious warm and thick length is shoved down your throat, making you gag uncontrollably. You whine, trying to pull back and breathe, but Max’s strong hand doesn’t let up as he roughly shoves it in and out of your tight mouth.

Tears drip down your cheeks at the intensity and you’re drooling messily, but Max doesn’t seem to care one bit and you might’ve imagined it but you thought you hear the click of multiple photos being taken. Guessed what it is yet, schat? Max asks mockingly, and you whine, shaking your head. Too bad, maybe this will help you figure it out. He pushes the whole length past your lips as you feel something thick and creamy flood your mouth, giving you no option but to swallow it, licking your lips to try figure out the taste. Afterwards, Max had gently taken the blindfold off, revealing his flushed face, and wipes your tears away sweetly. Sorry I didn’t get the last answer, you say guiltily, upset that you had no clue. It’s alright, doll, Max reassured, I’m sure you’ll get it next time, yeah?

Another thing that you needed to improve was your endurance and stamina. F2 races were a lot more demanding than karting, Max pointed out, noticing how tired you would be after a race. He increased the frequency of your runs and workouts, always helping you stretch before and letting his dark gaze hungrily linger on your pliant body underneath him. You’d wear the cutest little yoga shorts and sports bras, leaving your sensitive chocolate-toned skin on display for him, and it was almost too easy to accidentally slide in between your legs or brush the swell of your breasts as he stretched you out, bending your legs right back up over your head and leaving you breathless. But it wasn’t enough for Max as you consistently scored on the podium now but never P1. So he proposed the ultimate endurance training, that all the F1 drivers did regularly - fucking.

Fu-you mean, making love?! You’d shrieked hysterically, whipping your head up as he brought it up casually when you two were watched a movie, cuddled up on the couch. He’d smirked, Sure darling, making love.

You’d looked nervous, like a deer in headlights, telling him you weren’t sure, you felt uncomfortable doing that for the first time…but Max’s stormy expression left no room for discussion. Everyone on the grid does it, all the time. Even your older brother, he said condescendingly. It’s a pretty good stress relief. Trust me, your driving will become so much faster.

You innocently eat up Max’s blatant lies, hesitantly asking if you should get a boyfriend then, that cute engineer from the Redbull garage had asked you out after all- No! Max says heatedly, glaring furiously at the thought of some other man laying their hands on what belonged to him. You look at him, confused how he expects you to- I mean, no, it’s fine schat, it’s part of your training after all, so I’ll take care of you, okay?

You flushed prettily, biting your lip and squeezing your thighs together at the thought of Max taking your virginity, as your romantic feelings had only grown the more time you spent with him. And soon enough, later that night, Max had climbed into your bed again to find you shyly waiting for him, dressed in that silky nightie he liked. Pulling it up over your hips, he moved your lace panties to the side and made you blush as he hungrily eyed your dripping innocence, just like he’d done many times while you’d been peacefully sleeping, unaware of the twisted desires your mentor had for you. He’d then stretched you out on his thick fingers, then replaced them with his even thicker cock - no condom, of course - sickly enjoying the tears streaming down your face as you sweetly moaned from pain and pleasure. Within minutes he was claiming you as his, sending you spiralling into orgasm after orgasm, screaming his name as you fell apart from overstimulation.

Max smirked at your small frame that was now passed out below him - you’d need a lot more training if this is all you could handle, he thought darkly as he gripped your petite waist, easily continuing to move you up and down his fat cock like a ragdoll. You moan blissfully in your sleep as he stretched out your virgin cunny. Maybe multiple times a day, Max decided, cause you just felt too damn good. In his bed next time, on the kitchen counter, in your driver’s room before the race and then maybe again after- and at least once in a hotel room where he neighboured Lewis. He could just imagine your wide eyes, teary from panic as you struggled to keep your moans quiet, begging him Maxie please, please not so rough as his thrusts repeatedly banged the headboard against the wall, making it clear to his rival just what kind of filthy things Max Verstappen was doing to his precious little sister.

The dirty, possessive thought makes him cum with a guttural moan, pumping you full of his generous load as he buries his flushed face in between your pretty tits to lick and bite at them. But what Max most looked forward to was the look on Lewis’ face when you would eventually show up to the paddock one day, F2 trophy in hand and a glittering rock on your ring finger to match, beaming in anticipation of replacing the Hamilton surname with Verstappen.

And no, Max would not be inviting him to the wedding.

—————————————————————————

A/N: ok anyways. This is a ridiculous amount of smut for me to have churned out in less than a day I need to touch some grass 🙏 as always lmk what you think and send in some more requests!

[yandere-sins]

Happy Valentine’s, my Love

a/n: Happy Valentine’s guys! I hope you have a lovely day, regardless of the purpose of the holiday or if you’re celebrating it. Remember that if there’s nothing else to love, we can still love Yandere (;

Warning: Yandere, Detailed Violence/Gore, Long Post, Abuse mention

Valentine's Day has never been your favorite celebration of the year.

When you were single, it showed you just how alone you were as you passed by happy, kissing couples on the streets. Halloween, Christmas, and birthdays—those were all festivities shared with family and friends, so you enjoyed them as long as they kept your mind off things. When you finally got your first boyfriend, you thought that for sure, Valentine's would be enjoyable from now on too. 

But you were wrong.

You loved him. You would have sworn to anyone doubting you that you loved that cruel bastard of a man who didn't care about your poor, desperate heart, pleading to be loved by him. Being with him broke you, and latest when Valentine's Day came around, and he decided to go out with his friends rather than stay with you, you realized he didn't feel as strongly about you as you did about him. Leaving him was the best and worst decision of your whole life. Best, because you knew you'd be able to move on, find someone to appreciate you. Someone normal, someone kind.

Worst because that scumbag wouldn't let you leave him so easily.

There was no detail you spared your boyfriend when you told him about your ex. You showed him the scars, the panic in your eyes, the restraining order, and every police report that came after. You wanted him to know. Everything. Without knowing your past, you couldn't imagine a future for you two. Though it may have been early in your relationship, you needed to know if there would be another lonely or, perhaps, a warm Valentine's Day awaiting you with this man you decided to trust. You finally had your answer when he held you as you cried, rubbed your back, and comforted you. He was the right one. He was kind and he was normal, accepting and understanding of everything about you.

So, how could it be that on Valentine's Day, you heaved yet another long sigh as you lowered your phone, still no reply from your boyfriend about when he was going to be home? There was no excuse like 'working late' or 'stopping to get dinner' when he had been off for the last five hours, and you had already cooked and set the table. Nothing could have been more important on a Tuesday evening than to get home to his beloved partner waiting for him. You couldn't think of any other excuses to make except for…

He forgot.

Maybe you were being childish. Disillusioned by TV and social media, romance books and games, that someone could actually exist who'd care. Care about you, your feelings, and this stupid couple's holiday. You didn't need someone who'd take you out on a unique, fancy date just because capitalism forced him to. You didn't even want presents or your partner being overly excited about a home-cooked meal and some sexy lingerie for dessert. Honestly, you two could have celebrated on any given day that you were in love and happy with each other. You just wanted someone to care. 

There were a hundred things you could think of that you two could be doing, even if some made you slightly less comfortable than others. Your boyfriend had some interesting hobbies, like taking you out to the woods for a weekend, a secret cabin where it would only be you two and his camera that would constantly go off to capture pictures of you. He liked to practice tying knots and bought you two all kinds of sensual toys, including blindfolds and gags. Occasionally, you enjoyed the new activities too. Still, you felt like you'd never enjoy them quite as much as your boyfriend did, no matter how much fun you had. It made him happy first and foremost, so you tried to indulge him, knowing he would do the same for you. If anything, he had always been exactly what you wanted—kind, caring, affectionate, and a great cook. The bar wasn't high after what your ex did, but your boyfriend lifted it higher than you ever thought he could. 

Which was why it was so strange he forgot this day, despite it being so important on your healing journey.

He usually was the one to always remember important dates or where you put your things whenever you happened to be forgetful. He took care of you when you were sick, saying things like, "I will always make sure you're happy and loved, Darling." His attitude and efforts made you look the other way whenever he asked you to pose for his camera or trust him when he booked another weird place for a weekend trip. You didn't enjoy these things as much as he did, but knowing he's been doing them since childhood, you couldn't deny him that little bit of freedom when he changed his life to accommodate you in return. 

You wanted to be angry about him not showing up, knowing it meant the world to you, but if you were honest, you were just disappointed. Maybe you had put too many of your problems onto him. Perhaps he was tired of taking care of you all the time. Maybe this wasn't the right relationship either, no matter how much you wanted it to be. Mistakes were made before, and this could have been one of them.

Your train of thought was harshly interrupted by the sound of the front door opening, your head snapping around as you stared at your boyfriend wide-eyed and surprised as he giddily stepped inside, holding multiple bags of renowned stores you liked to shop in, grinning like he always did when seeing you. 

"Sorry for not replying earlier! I was preoccupied."

Pushing off his shoes and hanging up his coat, he spoke nonchalantly as if your inner tumult didn't face him. Which, to be fair, you didn't even know if he was aware of. The bags in his hand were clearly apology gifts that he could shove wherever. Now you did feel angry, but when your boyfriend finally stepped into the kitchen, lifting his nose in the air and humming blissfully, you almost felt bad, seeing how innocent he looked, unaware of your anger. 

"I wish I could have gotten back earlier, but I needed to take care of something," he called out from the kitchen sink, rinsing his hands dutifully. He was a bit of a goofball, wiping his wet hands on his shirt before sliding over to you on his socks, grinning from ear to ear as he met your gaze. You loved his playful ways, the tenderness of always searching for your no matter what. It was either eye contact or holding hands in public; your boyfriend never too shy to show you were with him. 

"I know what you're thinking, but I didn't forget," he chuckled, scratching his cheek nervously after he noticed your furrowed brows. Moving around the couch you were sitting on, he took a seat right next to you, knees touching as he reached for your hand that you didn't pull away, even if just to see what he'd do. "I just wanted to make this the most special Valentine's ever."

Glancing at his fingers, your eyes got stuck at the red paint around the rim of where his nails met his skin, and you raised an eyebrow, replying, "Okay…?" 

Did he make you a card? Painted a picture? Maybe he decorated a cake… You wanted to be pessimistic, given how he had already wasted most of the day being tardy. However, the promise of him actually going through the trouble of making you something from scratch was already more effort than you could have expected from him. 

"Every day, you make me so happy," your boyfriend started, a doe-eyed look on his face as he gently massaged your hand, bringing it up to his lips to kiss it reverently, his breath tingling against your skin. "Allowing me to love you is the greatest gift you could have ever made me. Just waking up every morning knowing I have you to cherish gives me the strength to overcome any hurdle in my life. I only need food, water, and you to survive my days with no regrets and no ill feelings. That's how much you changed me."

 Planting some more kisses on the back of your hand, your boyfriend looked back up at you, grinning one of his beautiful, sunny smiles that you loved so much, his dimples making him look like he was out of a movie rather than the man you called your boyfriend. Hearing his confession made your anger evaporate, tears brimming your eyes that he quickly wiped away with his thumb. "Don't cry yet, I'm not finished, and you know I can't hold back when you cry."

You both laughed off the awkwardness and the stuffy noses as you took some deep breaths, gathering your composure as best as possible. "I wouldn't want to miss you ever," he sighed blissfully, his gaze piercing right into your soul, laying the words there like bandages around your scarred heart. "You're my light, and I love you more than humanly possible. I want that, exactly this here, right now, forever."

Pulling his hand away from caressing your cheek, he fumbled with the back pocket of his jeans, pulling out a little red box shaped like a heart. Your breath hitched as you put your hand over your mouth to not let it hang wide open, surprised as your boyfriend opened the lid to reveal a beautiful ring that undoubtedly would have your size. "Will you do me the honor of marrying me?" he asked, fingertips brushing over the velvet outline of the ring box nervously. And you…

Hesitated. 

A part of you wanted nothing more than to say yes, throw your arms around him, kiss him, let him put the ring on your finger, and call you by his last name. But then the thoughts you had before your boyfriend came home returned to your mind, and suddenly, doubts flooded you. You always thought he was the one to make you happy. The one to start a family with even. You were okay with his strange obsession with his hobbies, and he did his best to support you and make you feel loved daily. Why did you doubt him just because he was a little late on Valentine's Day? It was such a silly idea after the heartfelt confession he just made, wanting you to know all the ways he felt about you. 

Strangely enough, your eyes fell to his fingernails again, the red rims and dirt under the nail. Your boyfriend was very careful about his looks. It was strange that he didn't take the time to make himself look prim and proper for something as important as a proposal. He always obsessed about looking presentable to you whenever he was out with you. Even when he swore you were beautiful no matter what, he always put in the extra effort for himself. 

"I…" you mumbled, your sentence coming to a choked stop as if invisible hands were trying to stop you from speaking and squeezing the air out of your lungs. The sparkle in your boyfriend's eyes faded as he noticed your hesitation, an expression of hurt crossing over his face even though he tried to hide it behind a smile. 

"I'm sorry, was that too rash? I mean, we never discussed it. I just thought today would be a good day, and… Wow, I… This is awkward." 

Putting the ring away, he scratched the back of his head, turning from you. You wanted to reach out, console him, tell him he didn't do anything wrong, but as you watched his expression turn from hurt to bitter, you instead hugged your own body, leaning away from him. Next you knew, he was up, pacing back and forth behind the couch, muttering mixes of justifications and excuses.

"You said yes to your ex. I thought I could erase the Valentine's trauma if I did the same. I don't really know why I thought you'd say yes... We're still in our early stages, right? Gosh, I'm dumb sometimes! Just ignore I asked. It made sense to me when I saw the ring and thought of you, but I should have consulted you beforehand. It's not even that pretty. It's not good enough for you. You deserve a better ring, bigger and a lot more expensive than this little thing. They said it's a real diamond, but I'm not so sure. Am I making it worse? Please say no, this is already too embarrassing! We can't tell anyone I was so stupid to think you'd want to marry me."

Suddenly, your boyfriend stopped, looking at you. His breathing seemed to halt as he stared into your eyes with an unnerving, emotionless gaze. "You love me, though, right?"

Blinking at him, you couldn't quite follow his tirade of sentences, but you gave a slow nod, his expression changing instantly. "Phew! Lucky me! Here I thought I ruined it." The tension that had stopped him in his tracks flowed out of him, muscles relaxing, lips curling back into a smile. 

Coming back to the couch, he took his place next to you, reaching for your hand to take into his, resting it on top of his thigh. For a moment, he stayed like this, brushing his thumb back and forth over the back of your hand as he smiled upon it thoughtfully. "This was a mistake, but I wouldn't be able to bear it if you'd hate me now. Can you tell me why it's a no?"

Looking up at you, you couldn't help but avert your gaze after catching his, seeing his kindness and patience that swirled with his love for you in it. He was always like that, understanding and accepting no matter what you did. How could you possibly confess to him that it was because you had a bad feeling about how he acted on Valentine's Day? That would make you look like an absolute idiot, wouldn't it? Rejecting him for being late?

"It's just… a little too early," you stammered, making apparent excuses. Eleven months may have been a bit quick, but you two had a lovely relationship so far. "I see…" he mumbled. His head fell back as he let out a loud laugh, squeezing your hand tightly as if he feared losing his hold. "And here I thought it was because of your ex."

"Why do you keep bringing him up?" you asked, a ping of irritation going through you at the constant reminder. 

"Well, you brought up marriage much earlier with him, but you never talked about it with me."

Odd, you thought, not remembering giving him that detail. You were sure you mentioned you thought your ex was the one you'd marry, but this seemed like a knowledge that you didn't think you told him about.

"I… maybe?" you mumbled, unsure if this had actually happened since you avoided letting your memories resurface. 

"Yeah, so I thought maybe I wasn't good enough for you. Maybe you still like your ex more than me. That's why you never brought up marriage. Don't tell me you actually still feel for that bastard?"

His words were throat-cutting sharp as he spit them out, his eyes fixating tensely on you as if to warn you not to say the wrong thing. "Of course not…" you mumbled, appalled at your boyfriend's thoughts. "You know I'm with you now. I rarely ever think of that guy…"

"Good… good," he mumbled, features softening as he looked forward, brushing his thumb over your hand again as he stared into nothingness thoughtfully. "It would be hard to piece him together again if you changed your mind."

"What?" you mumbled, cocking your head and furrowing your brows, waiting for your boyfriend to explain what he meant with his strange choice of words. 

Sitting up straight, your boyfriend stopped tracing over the back of your hand, taking a deep breath instead. Rolling his head to face you, he forced a smile on his lips, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Somehow, I knew," he sighed, a hint of regret decorating his features. "I knew you wouldn't say yes."

"I couldn't pinpoint it. It was just a feeling I had as I drove home today. It got me thinking of reasons why you would reject my proposal. I kept driving up and down the street, too nervous to just come in and ask you; that's why I was so late. Because at one turn, I ended up on your ex's street, passing by his house, and I stopped the car. I felt like it was his fault that you'd reject me, and I looked through his window, and there he was, cuddling with some girl that didn't look like you at all. Probably a whore. That's the best that scumbag can do."

He spat the last two sentences as if they disgusted him on your behalf. As if he was angry, your ex wasn't at least miserable about losing you. It seemed sweet, but your boyfriend's actions were scaring you more and more, especially when you tried to pull back your hand, his fingers clutching around your wrist tightly as he kept you right where you were, not giving you a chance to back away until you relented, letting him continue to brush his thumb back and forth over it.

"I knew I couldn't just leave him like that. He hurt you. He hurt you badly, and I wanted him to suffer. I rang the bell, waiting for him to open, but he let the slut get the door for him, that lazy piece of shit. So I wrapped my arm around her neck, pulled her to the kitchen, and slit her throat right in front of his face. And can you believe it? He cried. Like a little baby, as the bitch bled out."

Your blood ran cold as he spun his gruesome tale. You were even more inclined to get away from him as his expression filled with a mix of indifference and hatred. However, he turned towards you, reaching for your arm and pulling you closer to him, no matter how hard he had to jank until you fell into his arms. "I thought about you," he mumbled, eyes shifting back to the affectionate spark you loved being looked at with normally. He smiled as he caressed your skin, full of goosebumps. "I only thought of you as I rammed the knife into his back over and over, not giving him an easy way out while he cried and pleaded for me to stop. But I didn't. Not until he collapsed, gurgling. That's when I decided it would be the best gift for you, and I hope you'll like it."

Finally, your boyfriend took his hands away, fluttering touches turning into nothingness as he got up. He was eerily calm, not chipper like usual, and not bothered by what he just told you. He stepped around the couch, touching your shoulder as he passed you by, chuckling to himself about the good thing he did while you tried to comprehend the shock you were feeling, disgust and panic not yet having set in. 

"I got you other presents too, but nothing as good as this one," he explained, and you heard the bags rustling behind your back, sending another shiver down your spine. How ironic, you thought, realizing he did make you something homemade for Valentine's. It made a splashing sound as he pulled it out of the bag, and it explained the red stains on his fingers, but it was neither a card, a picture, nor a cake. 

You opened your mouth to scream as your boyfriend slipped the severed head of your ex wrapped in multiple layers of saran wrap into your lap, an anguished expression of pain forever chiseled into the features of the man you once loved. He had never been a good lover to you, but you were pretty sure he didn't deserve this. 

Before a single, horrified scream could rip out of your throat, your boyfriend's hand came down to rest over your mouth, pressing around your lips so nothing but muffled sounds could escape you. "I took care of it. No need to get upset now, Babe," he mumbled, leaning down to kiss the top of your head. "He can never hurt you again, and when we do decide to marry, no one will be in our way," he assured you. 

And you believed him.

"Because if anyone else tries, I'll take care of them too," he added, and you could hear the smirk on his lips, an expression so mad you didn't even want to see it crossing his face.

"I won't let anyone come between you and me. Not now, and not ever, Baby. Happy Valentine's Day, my Love."

[keen-li]

CLAWED | JJK | CH 05

Synopsis: "do you honestly think I want your help? I'm desperate " you can still see the hatred he has for you in his eyes, but you can also see the desperation.

Genre: e2l, angst, fluff, smut-ish. Convict jk x police officer reader

Fem reader x jk

Warnings: cussing

______________________________

It's Friday the day before your mother's birthday. Immediately you got off work you packed your bags and placed them in your car, preparing to leave.

You and jungkook haven't talked about what happened and you honestly don't want to. You don't even want to speak to him.

The only time you spoke to each other was when you told him you were leaving for your mom's birthday.

"Do you wanna come with me?"

"Nah I'm good"

"You're gonna be okay alone?"

"I'll be good, when are you gonna be back?"

"Maybe Sunday night, if I think about the drive"

He simply nods at what you say.

Your interaction was short, concise and emotionless.

Your parents didn't live that far away from you, only like 4 hours away.

You didn't really say goodbye to jungkook you just left and he heard your car leave.

_______________________________

After about 4 hours of driving you make it to your parents house. Your mother immediately engulfing you in her arms and telling you how much she's missed you and how skinny You’ve become. You're dad helps you take your bags into the house where your mother has a full meal set and prepared for you.

As you're settling in for the weekend. You can't help but worry about your house we're you've left jungkook alone. But you don't wanna think about him or anything while you're here, you just wanna take this time to relax.

________________________________

"This is a cute house" jin says walking around your house.

"A good hiding spot. The only problem....." he turns to look at jungkook.

"Is that you're hiding with a police officer. " jungkook is laying back on the couch watching jimin look around. He didn't trust that little thief.

"She's got really nice stuff in here" jimin says looking at the framed photo on the living room wall.

Jungkook warned jin and jimin not to touch anything.

"She won't tell" jungkook says to what jin had said.

"And how sure are you"

"I'm sure"

"We came here to tell you we need you on another job." Immediately that leaves jin's mouth jungkook's on his feet walking towards him.

"No, no I'm not doing another job. I told you that that was the last one"

Jin chuckles.

"You're the only getaway driver we have" he says feigning sweetness.

"And youre the only one we can trust" jimin says but the look on jin's says 'you really can't trust anyone though'

"I'm not interested in working with or for you guys" jin's face remains stoic and his body language relaxed. He knows jungkook's gonna take the job.

Both their attention is pulled to the sound of a glass vase shuttering. Jungkook groans and goes over to jimin and starts to pick up the glass pieces.

"I told you not to touch anything" jungkook knew you enough to know that you'd notice the missing vase that's been there since day one.

After a couple minutes of silence and cuts from the glass. They decide to leave.

"See you on the job jungkook" jin says smuggishly.

He doesn't respond and just sits in the silence and let's his thoughts run through his mind.

He really hates what he's gotten himself into.

______________________________

You decided to return home early because you realized that you have work tomorrow morning and you’re still trying to be on your best game. When you open the door to your house, you’re silent not knowing whether you’ll find jungkook there or not.

It seems jungkook hasn’t noticed your arrival so he simply continues the call he's on.

"Yeah I'll be there" you hear him say Softly.

" no she won't notice" he continues to reassure the person on the phone with him.

"I know-" somehow jungkook feels your presence and turns to make eye contact with you. You hear him mumble a little 'fuck' before he tells the person he'll call them later.

"You didn't tell me you were coming home early" he stands in front of you as to pass by.

" I never thought I needed to" you look at him suspiciously.

"who were-" before you even finish asking him he coldly interrupts you.

"This is a chance for you to practice the ability to mind your own business" he walks by you.

"It's my house" You mumble. You feel like the only power you have over him is the fact that he's staying in your house and even that doesn't feel like power enough.

Before he walks to far he mumbles back to you. "I know and I don't give a fuck."

You stand there pissed off at how jungkook just ignores and forgets how this is your house. You have your guard up now not trusting him or who he was talking to on the call.

______________________________

Jungkook sits patiently in the driver's seat of a black and tinted out car. He taps the steering wheel nervously, he isn't really nervous. He's done this many times. He's just kind of mad at himself for doing it again. This is the last time he's doing it he promises himself like he did every other time. He continues to play the unfamiliar tune with his fingers as he waits for Jin and the rest. Jin once offered jungkook to take part in the action but he declined not wanting to be that deep into it.

The job they had today was nothing dramatic as the others they've done. This one was a heist on one of the banks in Town. It was a risky job since they are still being 'hunted' but jin works like a magician. Never Getting Caught or spotted once.

"Drive" jin yells at jungkook as they get into the car hurriedly and jungkook does so. He drives away so swiftly and flawlessly that's why jin relied on him so much. Jungkook was great at everything he did and Jin loved that about him. That was why he wanted him to join in on the action.

__________________________

Jungkook walks down the street heading to your house. He never liked to drive for himself didn't really care for a car either. Or maybe he did this to separate himself and not remind himself of the person he'd become. Its dark and you're probably at home in your shorts cuddled up with your pillow on the couch watching your show that seems unending.

As jungkook walks up to your house yoongi also walks out of it. You were probably fucking him jungkook thinks.

Yoongi turns and notices jungkook and stops wanting to say something to him.

"Jungkook" he says "that's your name right?" Jungkook isn't in the mood to talk him, he has nothing to say to him honestly. Yoongi reads his body language and chuckles.

"look, I'm just asking"

"what do you want?" jungkook speaks tiredly and the least bit kind.

"I just wanted to greet you."

"Your relationship is with y/n, not me" jungkook spits and yoongi clenches his jaw paying attention to him. Jungkook doesn't make eye contact with him already knowing that yoongi's just testing him.

"If you two are fucking, fuck. don't let me stop you" jungkook says and yoongi mutters a 'good night bro' before walking away to his own home.

Yoongi does not like jungkook but it's not because of y/n but because of his sketchy behavior and demeanor. Yoongi definitely Suspects jungkook but he doesn't know of what and that's what he wants to figure out.

And just like jungkook expected he finds you cuddled up to your pillow on the couch in your shorts that didn't leave much to the imagination.

Instead of watching your unending show you're watching the news. Reports of jungkook's crimes, well not his crimes, showcased on the screen. Though they still don't know of the identities of the criminals. He smirks thinking about how good jin is at his secrecy shit. Not even jungkook knows how he does it. 'A magician never reveals his secrets' he'd say when jungkook asks.

"So you and yoongi are fucking huh?" you can hear the laughter in his voice. You turn your head to face him nothing amusing about the look and glare you send his way.

Jungkook takes his shoes and shirt off and you turn your head immediately when you see the band of his boxers peaking out. You know he's about to go to the backyard to workout.

"We were watching and discussing the news together" you say knowing that if you turned around you would find a shirtless jungkook standing behind you.

you begin to chuckle which jungkook notices.

"I thought you said you didn't care"

"You're right I don't" he says bluntly sparing you one glance as he walks out and into the backyard to have his daily workout session.

You turn your attention back to the news and sigh ignoring jungkook's typical behaviour.

You shake your head at whats on the news.

"how hard is it to catch these guys"

"if chief gets me on this case I'd have their heads on the table in seconds"

you probably wouldn't have them in seconds but you'd definitely do it faster than the people on the case right now.

_________________

Prev | next

[korruptbrekker]

Challenge: #Weekend Game — Write for 15 minutes based off of the prompt given — by @creativepromptsforwriting

Rated T — Tags: Sleepy Cuddles, Sleepy Kisses, Alcohol (just mentions that pags and momo are inebriated), House Party — Relationship: Pagskovstakovich — Word Count: 608 — [AO3]

Prompt: 217 — Use the words sleepy, night, and car ride in your next story

_______________

Pyotr was not fond of house parties, and so he was immensely grateful when Dmitri knocked on the door to the bedroom that he'd been hiding out in for the past few hours and told him that they were ready to go.

As their designated driver Dmitri was thankfully sober, though unfortunately he wasn't able to spend the night with Pyotr in favour of babysitting Pags and Mozart and making sure they didn't fuck up too much stuff.

Pyotr himself was exhausted—the drunk kind of tired that came was staying up too late—and he was a little bit more confident than usual as he nudged at Dmitri's fingers with his own hand, smiling when the fingers entwined.

“Come on Petya, let's go home.”

Pyotr hummed, exhausted and unaccustomed to staying up until one am, and dragged himself down the stairs, his hand still and Dmitri's.

“You look like death Petya. Here, take the keys and get some rest as you wait, okay?” Dmitri pressed the keys into his hands with a look of Pyotr couldn't quite decipher.

“Thank you,” he breathed with a smile before navigating out the house door and settling down in the back of the car, immediately relaxing at the immense quiet that took over the world.

Unfortunately, it didn't take long before Wolfgang and Niccolò were piling into the car on either side of him. Not wanting to be next to Wolfgang in his belated stupor, and drunk on exhaustion, Pyotr wrapped an arm around Niccolò and buried his face in his shoulder.

Niccolò smiled, pressing it to Pyotr's head as he hummed against his hair. “Sleepy hon?”

Pyoyr hummed, not catching the threatening glare Dmitri levelled at Wokfgang, nestling further against Niccolò. He wasn't wearing leather for once, and was comfortable to rest against. That, combined with the low thrum of the car ride, was enough to begin coaxing Pyotr to sleep.

He was almost asleep when he felt Niccolò's breath against his cheek, preceding a kiss. He couldn't help but smile, enjoying the gesture.

They'd had conversations before, after Niccolò revealed that he enjoyed partying, about what physical touch would be okay and what would be not okay when he was in inebriated. They'd been together for about three  months at this point, and Pyotr allowed his eyes to flutter shut as Niccolò continued kissing him, making his way along his jaw and down his neck.

He sank into the touch, desperately needing something to ground him after the overstimulating venture of being in a party for a few hours, on top of the exhaustion that was eating at him from staying up way past his bedtime.

His head was tilted back, and he opened his eyes to catch Dimitri's gaze from the rearview mirror. His brows were raised, forever wary about Niccolò despite Pyotr's insistence that he trusted him. Pyotr only smiled and nodded, and that was enough for Dmitri to turn back to the road, something in his shoulders easing.

Pyotr felt himself falling back asleep, thankful that Niccolò was keeping it chaste tonight, and extended his arm, lifting his palm up for invitation. Niccolò smiled against his skin, intertwining their fingers just like Pyotr had done with Dmitri earlier in the night.

With Niccolò against him giving him the kind of touch he desired, and Dimitri up front having gifted him the silent car and a quiet hand to hold, Pyotr couldn't help but feel more than loved.

With his boyfriend and his partner around him, and Wolfgang blessedly quiet for once, he felt himself drifting off to sleep with a warm, gentle smile on his face.

[reilivec]

Transformers Au Part 3

First Off I want to apologize for how short these have been. This is me practicing writing. I can't force myself to type for long enough to get anywhere. Please take this with a grain of salt

School was fine until 3rd period, in the midst of a lecture my temples began to pulsate, the words on the board began swirling and every breath anyone took would stab my ears. My eyes began watering and the pain intensified. I covered my ears and put my head on my desk to help but it did nothing. Then everything went quiet like I had tuned into a radio station. Then a male voice growled, "Find that energon source." There was desperation and anger in that voice. Something inside of me reacted to that voice. The room went cold and every breath was harder than the last. It felt like ages until I was snapped back to reality with my English teacher's hand resting on my shoulder, "I think you need to go home, Wenu."

The nurse told me, "Judging from your symptoms I would say that you had a migraine with hallucinations." The office called my mother who left work early to pick me up. I told her about the migraine and her response was tell me a story. When she was six, she found her mother staring out the window with glowing eyes. When she asked what she was doing. She responded, " Someone is threatening papa." He was on the opposite side of town and she didn't really believe her until her dad came home with a black eye and no money in his wallet. My grandmother had honed her ability through meditating and explained to her about the flow of energy that she felt. If the energy is not flowing properly through the body it can cause migraines.

There was a lot of time until I had to go to work. So, I started to call around town because if I have a job I need a car. We don't exactly have money to buy a running car, but I am willing to learn to fix a car. It is hard to have standards about a car when I have no money. My cousin, Juan, has a 1990 Porsche 911 that doesn't run. He sent me some pictures and it is really rusted and at first glance it looks like it is missing some parts. For some reason, every time he jumps the car the radio plays old jazz music. For a first car I think this car might be my best option for now. I agreed to work on the car on weekends and he said it was mine.

I had to wait a few hours until I could go to work and learn the ropes. My job was to sift through the donation and organize between garbage and useful donations as well as set prices for said donations. It was mostly t-shirts, but one thing that caught me off guard was when I was moving an old CD player. The instant I touched is I saw a sharp silver face with red glowing eyes. I almost dropped it. I was about to put it in the trash pile but when I looked back at it. The player almost looked brand new. The rest of the day was boring as all hell.

On Thursday, my mom was taking me home after work. A cop car pulled up behind us and began tailing us. She kept telling me to stay calm, but for some reason the only thing I could think about the the voice I heard and the face I saw. Something in my gut was telling me not to let them pull us over or show them to our home. I wasn't really paying attention to my hands as I told my mother, "Don't go home." At first she tried to question me but she stopped herself before asking anything. I looked down at my hands that had been passively fidgeting and found both our phones with the batteries out in my lap. My mother then locked her eyes in front of her, her neck now stiff. She cold spoke, "Your eyes are glowing, Wenu, trust your instincts. What should I do?" The car went quiet as my body began moving on its own. I was forced into the back of my own mind as a woman took over my body and began talking, "Do not pull over, Lose that car, and do not go home. Go to someone else's house. He is planning on abducting her." I was snapped back into my own body and it left me gasping for air. I was stuck leaning over clutching me chest when I looked over at my mother and weakly cried, "Mom, I'm scared."

Her grip tightened on the steering wheel. Her eyes narrowed, "No one is taking my baby. She rolled her shoulders before turning right. As soon as she turned she put her foot to the floor and started sporadically turning winding through the neighborhood before saying, Get down." I quickly leaned forward hiding myself below the window. She pulled over, turned off the lights to the car and covered me within seconds. The police car went flying past with its lights on. As I looked around head still tucked I realized where we are. "Are we at Juan's?" I asked. She nodded before sitting upright. She gasped, "I don't know what I would have done if that hadn't worked." She giggled at the success. She started to usher me inside "Let's get inside before he comes back around."

I ran up to the door and started banging. There was still some panic in my body. My cousin busted open the door, "WHAT?! Why are you here and why is your mom opening the gate?" I hadn't noticed her yet. I began ranting, "I keep seeing things and a cop starting tailing tailing us and someone took over my body and said they are going to abduct me, and, and that we shouldn't go home." By the time I finished I was sobbing. He wrapped his arm around me and began pulling me inside. "Don't worry," He reassured me, "we will keep you safe."

To be Continued

[leclercdreams]

hiii can i ask for some hurt/comfort with pierre?🥹 💗

𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐢𝐦 ❘❘ 𝘗𝘪𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘦 𝘎𝘢𝘴𝘭𝘺

pairing: Pierre Gasly x Fem!Reader

warnings: Hurting Pierre, some emotional breakdown scenes, angry reader, some swear words, all translations are from google translate, mentions of 2015 soft fluff to make our fav Frenchman feel better.

word count: 1.87K

a/n: I have not written imagines in ages so please be kind, I normally plan stories very carefully and write on Wattpad. I'm using the Japanese GP for this comfort piece.

You had been with Pierre for the better part of five years, you had your hard days and your good days, the days you wanted to strangle him, but your love never faltered for the Frenchman.

The Japanese Grand Prix was one you had been waiting for all year, hearing how much Yuki loved his home, as well as Seb’s stories he had to share. You had been waiting and when the time came it had been raining heavily for the better part of the weekend there. Working for the Alpha Tauri marketing team meant that you traveled with them everywhere, it would be anyone’s dream.

You were sat in Pierre’s driver's room, the said driver pulling on his fireproofs and race suit letting it hang on his hips, a knock on the door brought you out of your daydream about your boyfriend just a few feet away bopping his head to the music playing through his earphones.

Standing from your spot you took a few steps to the door and pulled it open gaining Pierre’s attention. “Hey, Pyry, you here to steal him?” Hugging the man you smiled when he let out a chuckle and shook his head, “not yet, just thought we could do some preparation. It’s a tricky track.” Humming you wrapped your arms around Pierre who had walked over to you and kissed your temple.

“I’ll leave you two to it then, I need to go check on Charles, Japan doesn’t have happy memories for him.” Turning your head so the French driver could have your attention you leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, following you when you pulled away he placed a few more kisses on your lips until you placed your hand on his chest. “I’ll be back before you get in the car mon amour.”

Saying goodbye you grabbed Pierre’s extra jacket, the one you already wearing not providing nearly enough warmth, greeting some of the staff as you set off to the Ferrari garage to find your best friend. It might sound ridiculously cliché, but Charles had been your best friend since the two of you were babies, if any Pierre was the one that came and just stuck around, something you both were thankful for.

“Y/N!” Spinning around you were met by Carlos who was making his way toward you with two steaming cups in his hands, “please tell me one of those is for me?” The desperate look on your face made the Spaniard cave and held on out to you making you sigh happily keeping it close to keep yourself warm. “Bless your soul, Carlitos. How are you doing? You ready for the race?”

Carlos sent you a smile and walked with you, knowing exactly where you are heading, Ferrari had gotten used to you wandering around, trusting you completely knowing you only wanted to see the Monégasque driver.

“Alright, I don’t think we will get much racing done, but I am excited to be in Japan.” Sending him a comforting smile the two of you stopped when he heard his name being called, excusing himself she gave him a quick hug before entering Charles’ driver's room. “ Éclair, hey, I just wanted to come to check on you.”

Charles turned around from pulling on his jacket and walked over to her, the tight hug he gave her made her almost spill the coffee, but luckily for both of you it was saved from your quick reflexes. “Hi.” It was such a simple word, but one you could hear so much emotion behind it.

You stayed with him for as long as you could, giving him motivation and words of comfort until you had to leave again, hugging him goodbye you made your way back to the Alpha Tauri garage as quickly as possible. Seeing Pierre standing close to his car you almost sprinted to him and hugged him tightly making his engineer stop talking.

The growing pit in your stomach was growing even more and worry started to settle in the pit of your stomach. You felt his arms wrap around you holding you close as possible before pulling away, “what’s wrong mon ange?” Shaking your head you breathed out and placed your hands on his cheeks looking into the sparkly blue eyes you loved so much.

“Be careful, please, just promise me you will be careful.” Staying silent for a few heartbeats he felt her grip tighten on him and he nodded confirming your request. Leaning down he placed a kiss on your lips, whispering those three words you’d never get tired of. “Je t'aime tellement mon amour.”

Pulling on his balaclava you stood next to Pyry while placing the headset on your head so you could hear Pierre over the radio, As much as you looked forward to Japan, you couldn’t help the bad feeling you had.

As if he could feel your stress and fear Pyry wrapped his arm around your shoulder making you relax slightly, your eyes not leaving the monitor once as you watched the cars line up after their formation lap. It was true what your father always said, the rush of watching motorsport was a strong feeling, and in the current moment you could throw up with how nervous you were.

One by one the red lights went on, chewing on your thumbnail slightly you crossed your arms after a bit and leaned into your close friend’s side. It was only the first lap when it happened, the start for Charles was great until Max regained the lead of two very good friends of yours. Your heart hammered in your ears as your eyes never left the monitor.

Gasps sounded out throughout the entire garage when Carlos went off track and hid the barrier, his car span slightly but thankfully from what could be seen and what was shown on the monitors confirmed he looked okay, your heart sank thinking about the Spaniard knowing he wouldn’t be able to finish the race.

Frowning you walked a bit closer to the monitor seeing some board stuck to Pierre’s car, but that wasn’t what made your blood run cold. It was when you heard his clear distressed voice over the team radio about a tractor on the track while the drivers were still on it. A full red flag was not set for them to come back into the pit and one glance at Pyry confirmed your suspicion and what Pierre said was in fact true. Walking over to one of the women from the social media teams you looked over her shoulder a small sad smile sent your way when she saw you.

Someone had caught the tractor on the track, in the horrid conditions they were in, not only when Pierre who was at the back passed by, but when Charles and Max, even Sebastian passed it. Despite the cold and wet conditions, you could feel your anger rising, clearly, the FIA had learned nothing from Jules’ accident.

This entire race was a big mess, and if you were completely honest you wished for them to call it off, it was dangerous, and seeing them Disrespect Jules’ memory the way they did made you even more emotional. The race that was set to start again had been once again suspended, Pierre was in the garage headset on and talking to someone while you helped some of the guys hand out warm drinks to the team.

It felt like hours that you waited and being informed that the FIA wanted to have a word with Pierre made you bite your tongue not wanting to get into any trouble, you wanted it to be over, and you knew that Pierre wanted it to be over too.

When the end of the race came it felt like you could breathe again, breathing out a long breath you didn’t even know you were holding, excusing yourself from the team you quickly made your way to the restroom to empty the contents of your stomach and then deciding to wait for Pierre in his driver’s room.

Bouncing your leg up and down while playing with your fingers and staring at the blank white wall you looked up when the door opened and saw your exhausted boyfriend. Flying up from the sofa you wrapped your arms around him and squeezed as tight as you could, feeling his arms go around you could also feel his shoulders start to shake.

Pulling away from him slightly you placed your hands on his cheeks wiping away the tears he had let out. It broke your heart seeing him like this, years you had known him, he had shared tears for dear friends that had been lost, but never after one of his own races.

“Shh, hey baby, shh it’s okay. Come here.” Pulling him with you to the sofa, you took a seat on the end and pulled him down with you. Wrapping your arms around him you let him get out the emotions he will have to put behind him when going out for his post-race interview, your fingers running through his hair helping him calm down as much as you could.

“How could they do that? Have they learned nothing about what happened to Jules? It’s so disrespectful to him and his family. I-I could have-” “Don’t you dare finish that sentence Pierre Gasly.” Pushing him back you straddled his hips and weaved your fingers through his hair and making him look up at you.

“You are here, you are safe, and yes, what they did was totally unacceptable, they are disrespectful and they need to be checked. Right now I am just grateful you are here.”

Kissing his forehead you smiled and hugged him closer to your body again, feeling him relax made you feel somewhat pleased with yourself knowing you could calm him down. Your comfortable bubble was broken when the door opened revealing Pyry. “It’s time for the post-match interviews.”

Sighing you removed yourself from Pierre letting him stand up and pull on his jacket. Grabbing your hand you held onto his tightly as you followed him still quietly whispering into his ear, “after this when we leave, we can have all the Chinese you want and watch all your favourite films mon amour. If I have to fight Pyry myself I will.” Looking over your shoulder, you winked at the trainer who only shook his head with a smile, not even trying to protest.

Standing to the side next to some other drivers you had noticed him looking over to where you were the entire time even while talking and the glistening tears he refused to let out made your heart sink again. “Will he be alright?” Looking next to you making eye contact with Daniel and letting a small sad smile playing on your lips you shrugged and looked back at Pierre who was finishing up. “He will be, it’ll take a while, but he will be okay.”

When he finished his interview he left the press immediately and came to your side, his arm going around your waist his face resting in the crook of your neck.

“Can we go home now?” Waving to Daniel you turned around and wrapped your arms around him kissing his cheek. “Yeah, let’s go home, handsome.”

Tag List: @ifancycharlesleclerc @luv4gasly @sebchalmaxiel @gaslysgirl @greykitkepa @pierregasiy

ps: please let me know if you want to be part of the tag list.

[xutokawa]

aahh the s/o finding scratch marks is fulfilling my angst needs 😭🤚🏽 could u maybe do one with bokuto & suna 🥺 i love your writing so much!! xx

pairings: suna x reader, bokuto x reader

genre(s): fluff to angst, cheating

warnings: langauge, cheating

wc: 2.3k

» masterlist

a/n: thank you for your support! I tried adding more plot to it this time hehe. breaking bokuto’s heart broke mine bro :( hope you like it! also TYSM GUYS FOR 200 FOLLOWERS FDJSKF i love every single one of yu :D <3 mwah mwah mwah

atsumu and oikawa ver.

osamu and iwazumi ver.

kuroo and sakusa ver.

akaashi and hinata ver.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Suna

“Rin, hand me the soy sauce,” you asked, not looking up from the dish you were stir frying.

“Get it yourself,” Suna teased back. Rolling your eyes, you stuck out your hand. Laughing, Suna came up behind you, placing the bottle of soy sauce in your hands before wrapping his arms around your waist. His hands snuck under your shirt, laying on your bare stomach. You leaned back into his chest, sighing contently. The two of you rarely had time together anymore. While you were burying yourself in your work in hopes for a promotion, Suna was busy with practices that extended throughout the whole day. Both of you were exhausted by the time you came home to your apartment together, unable to muster the energy to do anything except fall asleep in each other’s arms.

“Mmm, you smell good,” Suna said, taking a deep breath into your neck.

“I think that’s the fried rice you’re smelling,” you joked back. Butterflies stormed your stomach as Suna’s hands gently massaged your sides. Even after living with the middle blocker for three years, he never failed to make you feel like a crushing high school student. Suddenly, Suna’s gentle hands grew antsy, teasingly tickling your sides. Jumping, you tell him, “Rin, stop! I’m going to spill something!”

“I think I’ll keep going,” Suna teased back, his hands continuing to tickle you. With one poke to your side, your entire body jerked, causing the soy sauce in your hand to fling into the air, and onto Suna’s shirt.

“Y/n! I really liked this shirt!” Suna whined. 

“That’s your fault, baby. I told you to stop,” you shrugged, laughing at his expression.

“Whatever, I’m going to go change,” Suna pouted, turning away.

As you finished cooking, you went into your shared bedroom to tell Suna dinner was ready. You were stopped in your tracks, however, when you saw his changing form. Back to you, long scratch marks ran down the length of his back. Scratches that were not put there by you. 

“R-rin, what is this?” You asked, voice beginning to waver.

Suna spun around, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights.

“Y/n! Why didn’t you knock?” Suna nervously asked, rushing to push his t-shirt over his head, “It’s nothing, babe, just uh, got in a fight!”

“Are you sure it was a fight? Or was it a late night in someone else's bed?” You asked accusingly, brows furrowing. Would your Suna cheat on you? You had felt pretty secure about your relationship before now, never having a reason to doubt your trust in your boyfriend. Yet, you couldn’t find it in yourself to make excuses for the lines raked down his back. 

Pain and guilt flashed across Suna’s eyes, and that’s when you knew. You were wrong to believe you gave him everything he needed in a relationship.

“Look, y/n, we can figure this out, just let me-” Suna began.

“Please, stop,” you choked out, eyes welling up with tears. The middle blocker felt his heart shatter watching you back away from him as if he were a plague. 

“No, you don’t understand! I can’t lose you like this,” Suna said, walking towards you, wanting nothing more than to pull you in his arms and wipe your tears away. He stopped in his tracks, however, when you flinched away from his touch, hatred flickering in your eyes. At that moment, Suna felt like the scum of the earth.

“Please, get away from me. Get out of this room, get out of this apartment! I don’t need your excuses,” You said, voice raising. When you finally looked up to meet Suna’s eyes, you found nothing but despair and regret. 

“No! I won’t leave you, y/n! You don’t understand how much I need-” Suna started.

“Don’t give me that bullshit, Rintarou,” you scoffed. The pain in Suna’s chest grew at the use of his full name.

“I-it’s Rin. You always call me Rin. Please, call me Rin,” Suna pleaded, voice beginning to shake, “Stop distancing yourself from me. I’m your Rin. Please, don’t leave. I’m so sorry, let me make it up to you!”

“You’re a pathetic piece of shit, Rintarou! Cheating on me and then begging for me to stay and forgive you? Tell me, what was your plan? Did you just want a quick fuck one night? Or did you plan to keep cheating on me for the rest of our relationship?” You angrily walked towards him. Suna watched as the love you once held in your eyes for him turned into agony. He felt himself crumple knowing he was the sole cause of your anger and hurt.

“No! It was a mistake! Please, let me make it up to you,” Suna reached for your hands, desperate to have you with him.

“The only mistake that was made here was me trusting you,” You said, spinning around as you headed for the door. Suna physically flinched at your words, hurt and shame flooding his body. Panic filled his mind at the sound of your keys jingling and the sound of you putting on your shoes.

“Wait! Y/n, where are you going? Please don’t leave, it’s not safe for you to go out right now. Just stay and let us talk about it,” Suna pleaded, walking up behind you.

“I’d rather be anywhere but here with you right now,” you coldly replied, reaching out for the door handle. Suna rushed to stop you from turning the knob.

“Please, y/n, I can’t handle you leaving me,” Suna whispered.

“Just leave it, Suna. No amount of begging or love can fix my trust for you,” you replied, back towards his sobbing figure. Suna finally fell to his knees in defeat as you walked out of the apartment, knowing he lost you forever.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Bokuto

“Ugh, I’m so ready to just relax,” you sighed out, dramatically splaying your arms across the center console in your fiancé’s car. A tingle ran up your spine at the sound of Bokuto chuckling from beside you, not taking his eyes off the road. You could never get used to his laugh, no matter how many times you’ve heard it.

“I know, baby. You deserve it,” Bokuto replied, taking one hand off the steering wheel to place on your thigh, giving a light squeeze. The two of you had been insanely busy the month leading up to this trip. From your boss’ unrelenting demands at work to your family’s constant nagging and opinions on your wedding decorations, the two of you just needed to catch a break. So, when Bokuto brought up the idea of a weekend beach trip, you immediately agreed, jumping up and down in excitement.

The beaming sun immediately warmed your skin as you stepped out of the car. Warmth spread through your body as you glanced back at Bokuto as he started pulling out your stuff from the trunk, looking up to flash you his smile you had fallen in love with ages ago. 

“You go on ahead and find a spot for us, I’ll follow in a second,” Bokuto called out to you. Giving a thumbs up, you started towards the gleaming ocean, excitement filling your body as you felt the sand beneath your feet. Finally, choosing a spot, you unfolded your beach chair, spreading your towel across the top. A smile settled on your face as you laid down, sunglasses shielding your eyes from the harsh rays. Your eyes drifted closed, the sounds of waves crashing and children giggling putting you in a serene state.

Bokuto chuckled at your appearance before setting up his own beach chair next to you, situating a beach umbrella between the two chairs. He felt his heart speed up as he gazed at your relaxing figure, wanting nothing more than to cover your face in kisses. The spiker felt so much love for you, so he felt nothing but confusion as to how he woke up in another person’s bed two nights ago, naked. His adoration for you was replaced with guilt. Bokuto still hadn’t figured out how to approach the situation, how to tell you without you breaking off the engagement. He wanted nothing more than to watch you walk down the aisle in a few months, than to have children running around the two of you as you prepared dinner, than to grow old with you by his side. Bokuto was still unsure of what happened that night to cause him to slip out of a random person’s apartment in his clothes from the previous night.

The spiker was shook from his thoughts at the sound of your voice. 

“Are you going into the water?” you asked, looking up at him.

“Yeah, I think I will just to cool off,” Bokuto replied, pulling his shirt over his head.

“Okay, I’ll join you in a bit, I just want to lay for a little longer,” you replied to him, closing your eyes again.

“Okay, baby. Take your time,” Bokuto said, placing a kiss on your forehead before starting towards the water. You giggled as you watched your fiancé run towards the ocean. Your laughter quickly died, however, once you saw his back.

Your eyes widen with a mixture of shock and confusion, racking your brain for an explanation for the long, red strips that lined your fiance's back, but, no matter how hard you thought, nothing came up. The past month had been too hectic for the two of you to ever get close to intimate. Tears began pricking your eyes as the realization that Bokuto had cheated on you settled in your mind. 

Does he know he has scratch marks on his back? Is this his subtle way of telling me he wants to end this? That I wasn’t enough for him?

As soon as Bokuto hit the ocean, the salty water stung his back. His initial confusion as to where the pain came from was quickly replaced with realization. He shot up at the water, turning to watch you get up from your seat. 

Maybe they didn’t see, he hoped. His hopes, however, were quickly crushed as his heart dropped to his feet. You began to gather your things, rummaging through Bokuto’s belongings until you found the keys to his car.

Panicking, Bokuto ran out of the ocean as fast as he could, cursing at the water for resisting his movements. He watched helplessly as you began walking back towards the parking lot. You saw. You saw the scratch marks, and now you were leaving Bokuto. The spiker’s worst nightmares were turning into a reality right in front of his eyes.

The dull shouting of your name from down the beach sounded in your ears. You ignored Bokuto’s incessant calls for you, the ache in your heart overpowering every emotion you were feeling. 

Bokuto ran through the sand as fast as he could, hoping to catch up to you before you left his life forever. His lungs and legs were screaming, but the pain was nothing compared to the pain of you leaving. Panic rose in his eyes as he watched you get into the driver's seat, starting the engine to his car. 

Wiping the tears from your eyes, you took a shaky breath, a weak attempt to try and calm your heart. You looked down at your engagement ring, memories of that night flashing through your mind, forcing another sob to rack your body knowing that your memories now meant nothing. Banging on the car window startled you as you looked up to find a panicked Bokuto. His frantic words were muffled as you watched him desperately attempt to stop you from leaving. 

“Please, y/n, roll down the window. Let me explain, please,” Bokuto blabbered, “Y/n, please don’t leave me, you have to let me explain. I love you! I want to marry you, and you only!”

Anger surged through your body as you scoffed at his words. Rage blinded your thoughts at the mention of your impending marriage. How dare he tell you he wants to get married after cheating on you? Your brain didn’t have time to process your movements as you pulled your ring off your left hand. You watched as a glimmer of hope flickered in Bokuto’s eyes as you began to roll down the window, only to have his eyes widen in pain and shock as you handed him your engagement ring.

“You’re really a piece of shit, Bokuto. You know that?” Tears began welling up in the spiker’s eyes as he stared at the piece of metal that laid in his hands. 

“No, y/n, please. Give me your hand, please,” Bokuto frantically pleaded, reaching for your hand. The ring in his hand belonged nowhere else except your ring finger. 

“Just stop, Bokuto, you’ve already ruined everything,” you scoffed out. As his eyes met yours, he was met with a whirlwind of hurt, shame, and pity. That’s when he realized. To you, he was pathetic. The love and adoration that made your eyes shine brighter than the sun was now replaced with hatred and pain, making them burn greater than the depths of hell.

Bokuto’s heart shattered into pieces knowing you would never love him the same, knowing he broke your trust. 

“I-,” Bokuto paused, unsure of what else he could say to get you back.

“I’m sorry, y/n” the man in front of you choked out. Bokuto felt helpless as he watched you roll up your window and drive away from him, leaving him in shattered pieces.

That night, when Bokuto finally returned to his shared apartment, the reality of the situation hit him. The empty aura filling the space that he used to share with you was all it took for Bokuto to fall onto his knees, becoming a shell of his former self. You were gone.

[shemarmooresfedora]

Home

Series Summary: After being arrested, Spencer Reid desperately tries to get back home to his daughter, Camellia, who was placed into foster care in your home.

Pairing: Single!Dad!Spencer x Foster!Mom!Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Content/Warnings: mentions of Diana’s Alzheimer’s and Schizophrenia, prison, separation of father and daughter, swearing

A/N: i hope you guys enjoy my new fic! this may be about 8 chapters or so! i’m not sure yet, going to see how interested people are in the plot :) (also quick disclaimer: i have never been in the foster care system so please excuse any inaccuracies)

Masterlist

Chapter 1

Spencer never wanted his daughter to see him like this, being brought into the BAU bullpen in handcuffs. He was supposed to be the good guy.

Right now, he couldn’t tell if he still was. He had good intentions going down to Mexico to get non-FDA approved medicine for his mom but he may have killed someone in the process. If only he could just remember.

Camellia ran into his arms to hug him, a hug he so desperately wanted to return if it wasn’t for these stupid cuffs around his wrists.

“They can’t just take you away, Dad,” she cried.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I’m going to get back to you as soon as possible,” he promised, kissing the top of her head.

Spencer felt absolutely crushed as the guards had to drag his crying 11-year-old off of him so he could be taken to his holding cell.

-

You had just gotten off of work when your phone rang. Eileen, the head foster care coordinator, was calling.

“Hello,” you answered.

“Hey Y/N,” she greeted you, “I know you haven’t had a foster kid in a few months but I kind of have an urgent case. 11-year-old sixth grade girl. Mom has been out of the picture for a while, Dad recently imprisoned and on trial for murder. There are a bunch of family friends willing to take her but no direct family,” she explained.

“I can take her for as long as she needs,” you told Eileen.

“Great! I’ll text you the address, it’s the FBI headquarters.”

-

When you walked into the BAU, still in your dino scrubs and white lab coat, Eileen was surrounded by a frantic group of people.

“As I said before, I don’t doubt any of your credentials but this is the law. We can only give away a child to direct family at this point in time. If you are not direct family, you will need a lawyer to fight for custody as well as permission from her father but that process could take months,” Eileen stated.

“Spencer hasn’t spoken to his father in years and his mother is in a facility for her schizophrenia and Alzheimer’s,” a dark-haired woman spoke.

“Exactly so she must be turned over to the foster care system. I apologize to you all but this is how it works. We can’t bend the rules,” Eileen said.

“I don’t want Callie fending for herself in a house with 20 other kids,” a blonde-haired woman argued, “I’m her godmother. She stays with me all the time. She was staying with me while Spencer was in Mexico.”

“Sorry, my answer is still no. But, hopefully this will squash your concerns, Y/N!” she called you over, “This is Y/N. Jo will be placed with her. She is a pediatric doctor and currently has no other foster kids at the moment but all of her past kids have absolutely adored her. She always passes her surprise safety and wellness checks with flying colors.

“Hi,” you waved, intimidated by this huge group of frustrated people with guns on their hips.

“A doctor? So she isn’t even going to be home most of the time,” a curly-haired man scoffed.

“Actually, I own my own practice. I don’t work at a hospital so I usually have a regular 8-4 shift unless one of my patients needs urgent attention,” you clarified.

“JJ, don’t make me go,” a girl, who you could only assume was Callie, sobbed.

They were all staring at you like you were the worst person on Earth. You wanted to shrivel up and die. When you went through the process of becoming a foster parent, you thought this was a very admirable thing to do. You just wanted to provide a good home to kids in need.

“Do any of you have a key to Dr. Reid’s residence so Camellia can pack a bag?” you asked politely.

The woman closest to Callie that must be JJ pulled a key off of her chain and handed it to you.

“I’ll-um-leave my phone number and address here so you guys can contact me at any time or stop by. I understand your concerns but please know I try my absolute hardest to make sure all kids feel welcome and safe in my house,” you scribbled your information down on a scrap piece of paper.

“Are you ready to go, Camellia?” you asked softly.

She went around hugging everyone in the circle before solemnly nodding to you.

God, you felt like such an asshole.

-

After Callie finished packing her things from her bedroom in relative silence, you returned to the car.

“I don’t know what you like to eat but we can stop at the grocery store so we can get stuff you like and any other things you need,” you said.

You were met with silence from the backseat. You offered for her to sit in the passenger seat but she declined.

“Listen, I’m really not trying to be the bad guy here. Please don’t make me out to be one. I know you are having a tough time with your Dad’s situation right now but shutting everyone else out won’t help,” you spoke softly, “Trust me, I know.”

You sighed when the silence continued. You pulled out of the Reid’s driveway and headed to the grocery store.

-

You let Callie lead when you entered the grocery store, opting to follow behind her with the cart. She went immediately to the frozen meal section and started throwing them in.

“Camellia, that’s fine if those are what you want but just so you know, I love to cook so I can make you anything you want,” you offered.

“This is what I’m used to,” she spoke sharply, “My dad is not a bad dad, he just usually doesn’t have much time.”

“I never claimed he was,” you defended yourself.

After that, you kept your mouth shut. Clearly, she was a very independent girl and she had her own routine she liked to stick to.

-

You hauled all the grocery bags inside the house and unloaded them as Callie brought in her suitcases.

“So Camellia, I put all the food you picked out in these two cabinets. I mean obviously, you are welcome to anything in the kitchen but I just wanted you to know where the things you picked out were. I always have a grocery list on the fridge that you can add to,” you began to give her a tour of the house, “Bathroom is in there. There’s another upstairs. Here’s the living room with a TV,” you headed up the stairs, “Here’s my room.”

On your bed was an adorable toyger kitten cuddled up on your pillow.

“Oh! This is Winnie like Winnie the Pooh. I just got her a few weeks ago from a shelter. She is super friendly and loves snuggles so she will probably try to sneak into your bed unless you keep your door closed.”

“I don’t mind,” Callie spoke softly as she petted Winnie.

You smiled softly. These were the first words you got out of her that weren’t a rejection.

You continued the tour, “There’s a bathroom between our rooms but I tend to use the downstairs one so feel free to make it your own. And here’s your room,” you opened the door to a white room with a queen bed in the center, a small bookshelf, a few plants, and paintings.

“I hope this is good enough for now. We can go out this weekend to a home goods store if you want to redecorate. I’d even be open to repainting it if you want,” you offered.

Callie just set her bags down and nodded.

“Alright, I’ll leave you be. I’ll probably be downstairs for a while watching TV if you want to join. Let me know if you want me to make you anything,” you began to shut the door but Winnie slipped in first.

“Good night, you guys,” you smiled softly.

-

“Do you want me to wait out here or come in with you?” you asked softly.

Spencer had been denied bail, meaning he was transferred to a federal prison and Callie was going to be staying with you for a while. She had taken the news rather hard as expected when the team came over to your house to tell her. You still weren’t really accepted by the group so you mostly stood in the corner of the kitchen while they were all in your living room.

You had spoken to Eileen several times about Callie’s current situation. She gave you permission to do whatever you saw fit. This means you could opt her out of school one or two days a week if she wasn’t feeling up to it as long as she emailed her teachers and got her missed work in on time. You were researching different therapists for her to talk to because she didn’t seem to want to open up to you. You were also given a schedule of visiting times for her to visit her dad in prison.

“I’ll just go in alone,” she walked in the door to the visiting room, leaving you in the waiting room.

-

“Dad,” Callie tried to hug Spencer but the guard pointed to the ‘No Touching’ sign posted on the wall.

They both sat down defeatedly at opposite ends of the table.

“How are you?” Callie inquired, wiping her tears away from seeing her father locked up.

“I don’t want to talk about me, sweetheart. How are you? Emily and my lawyer visited yesterday and told me you had to be placed into foster care,” Spencer asked, concerned.

“It’s okay. Not the best,” she sighed.

“What’s happening? Are they hurting you? Are they not giving you enough to eat? Callie, I’ll have my lawyer on the phone and you out of there so quick,” Spencer frantically stated.

“No, Dad. Y/N is fine…nice, even. But she’s not you,” Callie cried.

Spencer’s face softened, “I’m so sorry, Callie. You don’t deserve to be dealing with any of this.”

“Just please come home,” she sniffled.

“I’m trying, sweetheart, I’m really trying,” he replied earnestly with tears in his eyes.

A/N: i will also be starting a series taglist if you don’t want to be added to my main taglist so just clarify which one you want to join! also i recommend listening to the song Home by Phillip Phillips because it is kind of like the theme song for this story

main taglist (just ask to be added/removed!): @samuel-de-champagne-problems @g0lden-cth @spencerreid9 @averyhotchner @coldlilheart @k-k0129 @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @harrystylesandthegoobs @cmily @jswessie187 @rem-ariiana @hoodpankow @mochionly @spencerreid-187 @babymetaldoll @fics4arainyday @ssavanessa22 @all-tings-diego

series taglist: @ilovespencerreidmarryme

[emeraldenha]

BLIND DATES.

pairing: blind date!sunoo x gn!reader | genre: college au, fluff | w/c: +2.3k words | warnings: cursing, reader is a bit of a pessimist

the idea of a blind date was never something you were particularly interested in

in fact, you never would’ve even been in this position if your friend jake hadn’t forced you to go

it was on a perfectly calm friday afternoon when the both of you were hanging out in one of the multipurpose rooms on campus that jake decides to bring up the topic

you were in a good mood that day

you only had one morning class on fridays and you were excited to have some time to yourself for the weekend

you were explaining to him about how you were finally going to lounge around in your dorm and sleep in all day tomorrow

then he's like “but ummm... how about you don't do that.”

to which you're like “why? it's my saturday of freedom!”

and that's when he drops the bomb that he wants you to go on a blind date that very saturday

apparently sunghoon (jake's other friend that you had met on a handful of occasions) had originally made the suggestion, saying he knew someone he thought you would be compatible with

and after jake dumps this load of information on you, you can only give him a blank stare in response

the concept of blind dates didn’t really sound like your type of thing

you would rather take interest in someone at your own rate in comparison to being set up with a stranger already knowing that they're just as single and desperate as you are

the mere thought could crush your pride

which is exactly why even jake’s constant begging cannot change your mind

“come on, y/n. pretty please, I promise you’ll have fun.”

“no, I’m not wasting my time with that shit. I don’t know anything about this fucking mystery man or whatever.”

this prompts jake to at least tell you that his name is kim sunoo and he also goes to hybe university

additionally, like it’s supposed to be the cherry on top, sunghoon had claimed that he’s like a little brother to him too

you ask jake what his major is and he goes “see, that’s what you can ask him on your date!”

cue the eye roll

jake doesn't let go of this for the rest of the day, following you around and stating that he won't leave you alone until you agree

and next thing you know, despite hours of protest, you're somehow in the passenger seat of jake's car on saturday night

jake gives you a thumbs up, looking over at you expectantly from his spot in the driver's seat

“you can do it! you’ve been stalling for five minutes now. get out of my car or else you’ll be late.”

and you can't help but complain “am I really doing this? why me of all people?”

he shrugs and says “you need to get out more. trust me, sunghoon said he’s a sweet guy. and it’s only one night! no pressure if it doesn’t go well.”

you let out a sigh, rambling on about things like what if it doesn't go well and you run into each other at uni? wouldn't that be super awkward?

and jake just tells you to stop stressing yourself out because hybe is a big enough university that you probably wouldn’t need to go out of your way to avoid him

“okay, no more whining. you have sixty seconds to get your ass into that restaurant. go, go!”

“I’m going!”

you smack jake’s arm trying to shove you out of the passenger seat and wave to your friend before officially exiting the car

“bye, you bitch!”

jake lets out a breath of relief, glad that you’re finally accepting to commit to this blind date, “bye, y/n.”

that night, you came to a verdict

you hate jake

and by association, park sunghoon too

you hate jake not only because he had brought your hopes up by hyping you up in the car, but because this sunoo guy was a total no show

leaving you alone with a plate of pasta and a basket or two of bread sticks (which you still enjoyed but not the point)

you knew you shouldn’t have agreed

you were agonizing this whole ordeal already but like?? did you have to get stood up too?

after you pay for your dinner consumed with lonliness and pitiful glances from the waitress, you stop by a nearby grocery store to get a pint of ice cream and walk back to your college on foot

it’s a bit of a walk in order to get all the way back to campus, but you couldn’t care less

you just want to drown your disappointment in desserts and call it a night

the following monday is hell

jake had been spamming you with text messages, pestering you about how the date went and such

you hope that ignoring every one of those texts would have him get the memo by now

you enter the elevator of your classroom building, your first class of the day having just finished

the elevators at your school are incredibly slow but you don't mind it unlike everyone else who simply uses the stairs

as you're staring off into space, waiting to reach the bottom floor, the elevator suddenly stops on the floor above first

“oh... hey, y/n.”

you look up at the sound of your name

and of course, it's sunghoon

you greet him back, awkwardly scratching the back of your neck as there's a solid fifteen seconds of silence before you can finally exit the elevator

“wait!”

sunghoon adjusts his pace to match yours once he sees you trying to speed-walk down the hallway and out the building

you're anticipating literally anything but this conversation

that being said, his next words make your head turn

“why did you bail out on sunoo last saturday?”

“I'm sorry, what?”

he goes on to elaborate that sunoo had essentially told him you completely ditched the date

and you're stunned

“see, that's cute and all, but let me tell you what really happened...”

you spend your lunch before your next class conversing with sunghoon over the entire matter

luckily, there's no discourse and he trusts your word

50% because he knows you're the blunt and honest type and 50% because it was starting to make a little more sense as to why sunoo was tripping over his words and fidgeting with his fingers when he had told sunghoon the news

even though you weren't the closest with sunghoon, that was enough for you to understand that he was pretty gullible

or just that somewhere in his goal to becoming a doting sunbae, he became whipped enough for kim sunoo to the point of believing anything the boy said as fact

“look, I apologize on his behalf that he stood you up. I'm not sure what happened with that, but please give him a second chance. there must've been a good reason why he couldn't make it.”

you huff, “what kind of person lies if they have a good reason?”

you bicker over this with sunghoon for another couple of minutes

why?

because you were a tough cookie to crack; that's why

“what's with you trying so hard to persuade me? it's not like this is your love life to salvage.”

sunghoon gives you an exasperated look, as if the answer is extremely obvious

“I'm trying to be a good wingman, duh.”

at that, you can only shake your head and sigh

“whatever, tell him I don't like liars and that this is his last chance if he even wants to go on this stupid date anyways.”

sunghoon clearly lights up at your statement, shamelessly cheering even though other people in the cafeteria are clearing eyeing him

you just know that his ego skyrocketed too much for him to care

was convincing your stubborn ass that much of an accomplishment?

“don't worry, I'll talk to him. you'll be free again this saturday, right?”

you hesitantly nod in response

sunghoon smirks, “perfect, I'll arrange everything and get jake to relay to you the details. bye now!”

you stare down at the cafeteria table, the life drained out of you

what the hell did you just sign up for?

when you read jake's text with the location to your (actual) blind date, your first thought is

why the fuck did sunghoon sign you up for a couples cooking class?

you're impatiently tapping your foot in the spot outside the building you were told to meet at

it was making you anxious that you arrived there first, wondering if history would only repeat itself and make you look like a fool for getting stood up twice

but then again, it was your fault for being ten minutes early

it's exactly five minutes later when kim sunoo shows up

and you almost lose the ability to speak properly when the two of you make eye contact, sunoo waving at you enthusiastically as he immediately begins to introduce himself

so this is why sunghoon absolutely adores him? he's a ball of sunshine...

“I'm so sorry that I left you hanging last week. I would've called you but I didn't have your number and I was in a bit of a situation.”

he looks so sheepish and ashamed, making it hard for you to hold a grudge on him like you had planned

“what kind of situation?”

“my roommate, ni-ki, accidentally almost set our dorm room on fire with our microwave before I was about to leave.”

oh.

so that's why your classmate was coincidentally ranting about her dorm building's fire alarm going off on that night

you can't help but ask “if that was the case, then why didn't you just tell that to sunghoon?”

“ah, that,” sunoo cutely chuckles, walking with you so that the both of you could attend the cooking class on time. “I was too embarrassed to admit that I didn't go on our date when he was trying his hardest to set the whole thing up. sorry, I didn't mean to throw you under the bus like that. it just came out and I didn't know what to do from there...”

the cooking class is admittedly a bit uncomfortable in the beginning

though gradually, the two of you grow more at ease with each other as you laugh at each other's subpar and amateur cooking skills

the fact that you're both so terrible at it is honestly what makes it so enjoyable

over the course of the date, you find yourself unexpectedly wanting to get to know him more, listening to him passionately rambling about his likes, dislikes, and hobbies

you even take interest in asking what sunoo's major is, like what jake had encouraged you to do

“I'm a cosmetology major.”

and you're all in shock like “they offer that at hybe?”

sunoo giggles and you swear that you could hear his voice on loop for hours and never get sick of it

“yeah, hybe surprising has some pretty cool programs for that kind of stuff. if you want me to style your hair sometime, then let me know!”

the date overall ends up being really fun

incredibly odd for a first date? yes

but it's fun

(and results in a semi-edible dinner for you to take home)

you realized just by talking and doing the cooking activities with him that sunoo is very different from you

he's really bright, a little on the shyer side, and he blushes whenever he accidentally messes up the cooking instructions and you have to take over

he's a gentleman too

once the cooking class is over and you're out in the parking lot, he suggests to get some late night coffee from the coffee shop down the road and you take him up on the offer with certainty

and despite your hot coffee, he insists you take his sweater as you walk around the area in the cold night

you try forcing it back into his hands but eventually give in once you feel the fuzzy texture of his baggy, oversized sweater encompassing your body

you think to yourself that these kinds of gestures are super cheesy

but you don't mind it in this instance

you end the date when you both agree that it's getting late, coffee cups emptied almost hours ago

as he watches you go back into your separate car, he notices that you've forgotten that you're still wearing his sweater

which was exactly what he was hoping for, since he wouldn’t mind having a reason to see you again

your eyes wonder around every inch of campus the next day, constantly in search of sunoo as you go through your to-do list

getting brunch at the cafeteria, washing your clothes in the communal laundromat and such

putting aside your usual couldn't-give-a-fuck attitude, you text jake for if he could contact sunghoon to find where sunoo is

(you unfortunately still forgot to exchange numbers for some reason)

and as you predicted, jake doesn't let you off the hook without a little teasing

but he fulfills your request and informs you that he's in the library

the library is generally secluded at this time of day

which makes it fairly easy to find sunoo sitting by himself at one of the tables

he's surprised that you came to see him so soon but welcomes you with a gummy smile and the open chair right beside him

you apologize for forgetting to return the sweater, retrieving it from your bag and handing it back to him

“it's alright. to be honest... I sort of let you keep it on purpose.”

you tilt your head in confusion and ask him why he would do that

“so we can have something to talk about before I ask you on a second date. what do you think? is my plan working?”

you smile so wide that you feel your cheeks begin to ache

“I'd say so, because I'd love to go on a second date with you, kim sunoo.”

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[beann-e]

Bnha Characters reacting to when you quit your job

bakugou

your steps were quiet as you tried to work up the energy to unlock your front door. Your hands sweating and cold when you finally got the energy to put the key in the lock a deep exhale leaving your lips when you finally walked in.

Your Body only carrying you to your kitchen counter before you dropped your keys and bag on the same counter your body now rested against.

The room heating up and shifting from the ice quiet atmosphere youd created when you felt strong arms wrap around your waist and pull you back to meet a hard chest

Small kisses being planted on the side of your neck as you let out another sigh of relief as you spoke trying not to drown in the comfort being given to you “ baby “

Your body shook as you heard a deep grunt of acknowledgment “ we — we need to talk “

you felt as another set of kisses were placed to your neck before his head snuggled into the spot between your neck and shoulder “ I— I think I made a mistake“

You bit at your lip as you kept going “ I— I was trying my best to stick up for myself y’know like you told me”

“ mm—and did you“

“ I did —I mean I did stick up for myself and I had to I needed to bu—”

“ slowly losing interest y/n “

you let out a shallow cough “ but I think I did it at the wrong time “

his body stood up a bit straighter head still remaining in the same place somehow “ baby I —i lost my job “

You felt as your boyfriends body went hard almost as if he was trying not to slam your own body into the floor in anger his grip around your waist only getting tighter “ like I said I — I wrong time“

“ wrong time? — y/n wrong place “ he screamed as he jolted your soul out of your already shaken figure. His head flying back to look at you conveying all the anger and annoyance he held, “ what the fuck do we do now “

you let out a small laugh to try to ease the tension “ we — we rely on your hero check ? “

You watched as he sucked his teeth and moved out of the kitchen “ I can barely feed a fucking roach with my salary y/n “ his voice getting louder as he walked into the living room you following closely behind “ i — i can barely feed you — us — y/n this is why we don’t have little crumb snatchers running around now “

his voice deep and heavy “ cause we’re broke do you get that babe ? huh no — fuck — you— fuck fuck fuck you gotta go back — you can’t just be chilling around the fucking house while i’m working my ass off that’s not how starting a family works y/n “

“ baby it’s just until I can get a new job “

“ tch— and how long will that take y/n “

“ well I— “

“ huh months ? “

“ well n— “

“ couple weeks “

“ I mean hopefull— “

“ babe you don’t even fucking know “ he sighed as he griped the skin on the bridge of his nose “ so fucking stupid — so so so fucking stupid “

the room went quiet as your eyes dropped to the ground. “ wel— no — I — I don’t know kats” you shook your head “ I— I really don’t“

“ and that’s the problem y/n “ he screamed eyes finally opening to look at you.

God, he loved you but seriously you just didn’t think sometimes

It’s not that he was calling you stupid it’s just that he really really loved you

He loved that you listened to him. That whenever he gave advice you heard it and went with it.

The night he told you to speak up he was honestly just fucking with you. He always forgets that he has someone who loves him now meaning he’s taken seriously. He always forgets he’s not in high school anymore.

He can’t say something crazy and asshole—ish and expect to just be ignored. He has someone that loves him and will truly listen.

Your not the stupid one

nor the one in the wrong he is

and he knows he is because he heard everything you said about your situation. Yet, he knew you were different from him whereas he had been speaking his mind for years regardless of ranks.

You couldn’t.

You had a job where everything relied on ranks and status. You couldn’t just say whatever the fuck you wanted to like he could and yet he convinced you that night to speak up whenever your boss gave you extra work you didn’t wanna do.

His eyes felt heavy and so did his body his brain automatically beating himself up as he stared at you imagining the rough day youd had. If he was pissed off with the current situation he could only imagine how you felt.

Someone who hated to rely on others yet, now having to rely on their boyfriend.

“ come here “ your eyes lit up at the statement as your tired body wobbled over and into bakugous arms. Head hitting his chest as he crushed you “ I love you and i’m proud of you “

your heart sank.

“ fuck those idiots you only have room for one anyways and hes— fuck trust me I know i’m enough “

Shoto

“ so “

“ so “

You sat on the couch legs splayed out in front of you and hands playing with the tassels of the pillows placed next to you.

God you loved these pillows. You actually remember the day you bought them.

Y’know back when you had money

“ y/n “ you watched as shoto shifted uncomfortably on the couch next to you “ my love what are you doing home “

He shook his head confused at the body placed comfortably next to his own “ your not supposed to be home for “ he looked down at his watch moving his suit jacket up his arm to create space and to make sure he was seeing the time correctly “ for 7 more hours “

you let out a short laugh “ you sound like you just got caught cheating sho “

his eyebrows crinkled together as he stared at you in disgust “ y/n I would never “

His hand moved to be placed on your thigh “my love is that what you think ? — if that’s why your here then I can assure you tha—I mean honestly if so I would never be stupid enough to disrespect you in our home— you could’ve went to my office at least I mea— “

“ I lost my job shoto “

The air shifted as the hand on your thigh suddenly felt colder than before “ I— I lost my job “

you took a deep breath shaking your head “ it’s a long story on why but i’ve been leaving the house — pretending really— to go to work “

You chuckled “ god i’m sucha bad person “ your small chuckle turned into a hearty laugh as you felt your body go slack “ A fucking horrible timekeeper too if I managed to forget my husband gets off before me on weekends “

“ do not say these things about yourself “

“ it’s not like it’s a lie “ your tear filled eyes coming up to look at his. ” right “

“ I will not stand for this y/n “

“ for what — having an unemployed s/o—i mean you already have one so not much to do about that “

you scoffed “ why don’t you want a housewife ? huh“ you smiled “ I can wear the skirts for you y’know with the aprons cook you dinner and maybe we can have kids y’know we can even get —“

“ enough “

your body shook your eyes widened facing the 6 ft male now towering over you “ your always joking about serious things and I — I don’t understand “ his eyebrows creasing in desperate need to understand you. Eyes darting around your face “ how “

his voice going deeper as he got angrier “ y/n you lost your job“ his eyes grew wide “ do you realize how serious this is “

“ wh— “ you shook your head letting out a short scoff “ of course I do —I mean sho i’m the one who qui—lost it “

“ no you clearly don’t “ he scoffed “ not if your sitting here making jokes in my face “

His mouth quirked up in disgust “ it’s almost insulting — disgusting really “

“ wh— sho—“ you felt as a tear fell from your eye “ baby what could be so disgusting huh ? so ‘ insulting ‘ about me choosing to leave huh “

his eyes softened “ because of your reason to leave “

“ my reason ? “

“ my love I know you — I know you didn’t get fired and I know you wouldn’t just leave you loved it there “

your head dropped as your fiddled with your fingers “ so that means something led you to make that life changing decision and it hurts me that you were forced to make it “

Your heart broke, he was right he was always right, for days at work youd been dealing with an overbearing co worker who would tell you to do everything they didn’t feel like doing and when you finally decided to say no to them

They went and told your boss. Who even though you’d been working there longer than your so called coworker still believed everything they were told.

That was the day that you sadly found out your job favored years over hard work.

Due to the other person being there longer you were trumped in telling your story. It was seen as not necessary because , someone who was there for so long would have no reason to lie on someone like you.

A newbie

“ someone made you quit this job “

“ sho no they— I decided “

You felt as the couch shifted from him kicking it. You thinking he was moving to grab his shoes except walking past them and unlocking the door instead.

“ baby where are you going — we need to talk about how we’re going to split the bills now that i— “

“ i’ll handle it “

“ shoto you can’t put everything on your dads card we’re not “ you let out a soft exhale “ we’re not children anymore “

“ i’ll pay for it all myself — and you can be my little housewife “ he scoffed as your expression grew sour “ it was so funny a moment ago right “

“ shoto i’m not gonna ask again where are you going “

“ where else “

your eyebrows came together in a furrow “ wh— “

“ my love you work for my company ? obviously who ever I put in charge “ he shrugged walking barefoot to his car unlocking the door “ isn’t doing a very good job if they fire their bosses s/o ? “

He got into the drivers seat as he turned the car on and reversed the car “ needs to learn respect no ? so i’ll just have them switch places with you“ he smiled softly “ i’ll see you when I get home “

His once furious eyes turning soft at your body hidden in pajamas “ go inside baby —it’s cold —go order us some takeout i’ll be back in a little ok “

“ sho “

“ just let me handle this —i love you and i’ll be right back my love—go “

You shook your head softly “ go y/n “

[godlygreta]

i never stopped loving you | j. kiszka

title | i never stopped loving you

summary | jake and y/n have known each other since grade school, they’ve been neighbors forever. a bit of romance ensues, but ends fairly quickly when complications arise while the boys are touring. a trip home from college ends in a slightly drunk confession.

warnings | some mature themes (bit of sex, but not explicitly), swearing, slight angst

word count | 2.5k+

author’s note | hi! this is the first thing i’ve written for any of the boys, so i hope you enjoy. i’ve written for other bands before, so writing isn’t new to me, but writing for greta is.

“I never stopped loving you.”

It slipped out. It didn’t mean to come out. Jake didn’t necessarily want it to come out. They say drunk words are sober thoughts, right? At the same time, who trusts the words of a drunk person? Usually it’s just brushed off as babbling, but Y/N couldn’t ignore what Jake said. Especially because she couldn’t blame it on not hearing him. There was no music playing outside the bar. The music was faint enough that anything Jake had said was heard.

High school was rough for Y/N with hormones mixed in with academics, horny teenage boys at every turn. Y/N wasn’t even interested in dating, not due to the fact that nobody was necessarily interested in her, but because she was too focused on her studies to even give a damn. School dances were a nice break from academics. There was a shift, though, when one boy in particular would start to really pay attention to her.

Jake Kiszka was charismatic in every sense of the word. Him and his twin brother, Josh, were always the two sweetest, yet most famous troublemakers in all of Frankenmuth High School. It got even worse when their younger brother, Sam, ended up in high school with them as a freshman. Jake had girls wrapped around his finger from the moment he had gotten a haircut. His hair was a lot shorter than before and barely even touched his forehead. Y/N didn’t really give a damn. To her, he was still Jake Kiszka, neighbor.

Their parents were friends and always hungout on the weekends. Y/N’s family had a cabin on the lake which they always vacationed at and occasionally would bring Jake’s family with. One particular summer, they stayed there for a week between the summer of sophomore and junior year. The summer’s were always hot, but this week in particular was hotter than the other summer’s before. “It feels like the Devil’s asshole out here.”

“I know, Mary, but that’s the exact reason we chose to come here this week. The kids can swim in the lake, it’s a lot cooler in the water than on the grass.” Y/N’s dad spoke, returning the conversation from her mother. He gave her a quick kiss on the side of the head and returned to unpacking the car. Y/N and the boys had already gone into the house and picked their rooms. The boys shared one, and Y/N got one of the spare bedrooms. 

Dinner was made as soon as everyone was settled in. Everyone sat around the dining table, laughing and eating as they did almost every weekend. “You excited for Junior year, Y/N?”

“Yeah, I’m sort of nervous about taking the SAT and ACT. I’ve been studying when I’m not working at the shop.” She picked at some asparagus on her plate as she answered Mrs. Kiszka’s  question. Jake and Josh weren’t entirely ecstatic about it, it didn’t really matter to either of them. Music was their passion and that was never going to change.

Smores after dinner was a tradition that started when they were all really little, barely old enough to eat them. The fire was lit by Mr. Kiszka and Mr. Y/L/N. Jake, Sam and Josh had always played music while the rest of them made their smores. Y/N always made extras for the boys for when they were done playing music. Whenever they had no idea what to play, Y/N always knew the answer. Running out of songs to play, though, was a rarity in itself. The Kiszka’s knew so much about their sound, nothing was in their way of playing songs that fit it. However, every once in a blue moon they would ask their friend what she would like to hear. “C’mon now. You should know I’m a sucker for The Beatles.”

Y/N could recognize the sound of Blackbird the second it started playing. She had only listened to it eight million times that summer. She hummed lightly along as they played. Everyone clapped as soon as their song was over, the boys immediately delving into their smores. Y/N had finally taken a seat next to Josh when she was finished making their smores for them. Once their parents had gone inside, though, Y/N and the twins dipped into their parents' cooler of beer.

Neither of the sets of parents cared, they knew their kids would be safe and unharmed if they drank at the cabin. Jokes were told and stories of the past school year were discussed, as well as the future. A topic so vast for high schoolers. “I still can’t decide between a lawyer and an art teacher.”

“You’ve always been great at arguing,” Josh joked, “Practically got fuckin’ Lindsey McNeil out of that suspension.”

“It wasn’t fair. All she did was stand up for herself and what she believed in, plus that teacher is fucking creepy and everyone knows it.” Everybody laughed, the beer in everyone’s hands was getting a little warmer with every minute that passed by. Everyone filtered out one by one. Sam went in first, followed by Ronnie (she was slightly upset about coming, having made other plans with friends for the hot weather), and then Josh followed, leaving behind Jake and Y/N.

“Did you want to go inside yet or stay out here for a bit longer?” The silence beforehand hadn’t been awkward for the pair. “Cause I was thinking of going swimming for a bit.”

“I’ll join you, we haven’t swam yet today.”

The sand leading into the lake was met with a bit of rocks. It was picturesque under the moonlight. The pair discarded their clothing, leaving their underwear and got into the water. The coolness of the water sent goosebumps along her skin, leaving no piece without some. Jake followed in behind her, coming up next to her before completely dipping under the water. He popped back up and shook his head.

“You know,” Y/N started, “I think you’d look really good with longer hair.”

“You think?”

“Yeah. You should grow it out.” She swiped his hair out of the way and giggled a bit. “You’ll still never be prettier than I am.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, darling.”

The rest of the summer followed with light flirting and spending lots of time together. Junior year came around and nothing changed a bit. Prom was spent with the Kiszka family, Josh driving the three of you, as well as Josh’s date. The dance was lame, the songs were overplayed pop music, which Y/N secretly had a bit of a soft spot for. She would never tell that to Jake, though.

The pair ended up back at Y/N’s house, giggling all the way up to her room. He went into the bathroom to take his suit off, using one of Y/N’s hangers to make sure it wouldn’t wrinkle. However, Y/N was still having issues. She couldn’t manage to undo the zipper by herself, waiting for Jake to come back into the room to do it for her. He came back in, saw her still in her dress. “Need my help?”

“My zipper -- I can’t reach it.”

“I can do it,” he whispered, knowing Y/N’s parents were asleep. His hands were warm against her back, undoing her zipper slowly. The moonlight coming in from the window felt like that hot summer night at the cabin. He slid the straps down her shoulders, his mouth slightly agape. How could someone look so beautiful and delicate at the same time?

She turned around, her body facing Jake’s. He stuttered, telling her he could leave and he was honestly about to. Until he felt her hand grab his wrist. “Don’t go.”

He nodded his head, helping her get the rest of the way out of her dress. She stepped closer to him and put her hands on his chest. She could feel how fast his heart was beating. She had a hard time meeting his gaze, nervous of him not feeling the same way she had been. “You looked really good tonight.”

“Me? Everybody was staring at you the whole time, Y/N,” he spoke, one hand finding their way to her waist, the other pulling on her chin to force eye contact. “You looked absolutely breathtaking.”

There was a split second where both of them second guessed themselves. But it was over when Y/N pressed her lips lightly against Jake’s. It was such a feathery light touch, it almost felt like she wasn’t even kissing him. She pulled away slowly, her eyes closed, not really knowing what to do next. She didn’t have to figure it out though, Jake’s lips returned to hers with more pressure.

His hands had found their rightful place on her back, bringing her closer to him. Hers found their way into his hair. It felt so natural - the need for each other grew stronger with each passing minute. His mouth never wanted to leave hers, it felt as though her lips were coated in fucking drugs the way they were so addicting. He couldn’t get enough. “Do you want to..?”

“Yes, please.” It came out so needy - desperate. Y/N didn’t even care about how that presented itself to Jake. She just wanted to be even closer to him than she already was. And she got to be right where she wanted to be.

Her bed was more comfy than Jake had previously remembered. Or maybe that was because they were here under different circumstances, not just studying algebra because Jake wasn’t quite getting it. All he knew was that he wasn’t ever going to forget it. He wanted this moment to replay forever and ever. Not because he was just some horny teenager, but because holy fuck, this had just been some random thought - a daydream, almost. But this was real. This was happening.

A tangled mess they were when climaxing. “I love you,” came out as barely above a whisper. It took Y/N a half of a second to register what he was really saying before it finally hit her. She didn’t feel as if she had to say it back, if anything, he should realize that she loved him too.

“I could honestly stay here forever and stare at you until the end of time.”

“So do it. We’ve got all the time in the world.”

They didn’t though. And it wasn’t that simple. Complications arose after that night. Everything got messy and trying to tie in a relationship while the band was traveling and on the road became increasingly difficult, especially when Y/N went to college.

She came home to Frankenmuth while she was off for the summer. Her mother and father missed her a great deal and the first weekend home was spent in the Kiszka’s backyard, the boys excluded. It was weird to be at their house and not see them littered around anywhere. Ronnie was full of stories though, telling Y/N about previous times the boys have come home from touring and the memories they brought back with him.

It was painful to hear, but she was so incredibly proud of everything they had accomplished and done. Every once in a while, Y/N had checked up on their band's Instagram account. When she was really nervous — having a hard time not worrying about them — she texted Josh or Danny. Neither of them were ever going to say anything to Jake or mention it to Sam.

The two families decided to get together and have dinner at a local bar. The boys were still away, they weren’t scheduled to come back to Michigan for at least another month and a half. Ronnie and Y/N spent most of their time talking about future plans for the upcoming weeks while their parents discuss their weekend plans — what to have for dinner and who’s house to have dinner at. Time had passed quickly and before they knew it, it was 10pm.

The parents had left, leaving Ronnie and Y/N at the bar by themselves. At least, that was until the boys walked in.

Ronnie smiled widely, hugging her brothers but then proceeding to punch them for surprising her and not just telling her. Josh and Danny hugged Y/N first, Sam leading after. Jake didn’t hug Y/N. It stung a bit. It made sense though. The last time they talked — it ended in an argument which was the resulting cause of their breakup.

A few drinks were downed, a couple shots thrown in there as well. Y/N figured it was time to throw the towel in. She couldn’t handle the awkward glances and forced conversation on their part. She grabbed her jacket off the back of her chair and put it on as she said goodbye to everyone. “Boys, lovely to see you again. I’m sure I’ll see you this weekend.”

She wasn’t going to. She was gonna avoid them at all costs. Come up with a lie — say she had the flu or something. Her mother would believe her either way, as well as understand where she was coming from with her avoidance. Her mother was there for her while she cried her eyes out.

She didn’t notice when Jake had followed her out. She didn’t notice him calling her name. The only thing she could notice was the tears falling down her cheeks, wiping them as soon as she felt them.

“I never stopped loving you.”

It slipped out. It didn’t mean to come out. Jake didn’t necessarily want it to come out. They say drunk words are sober thoughts, right? At the same time, who trusts the words of a drunk person? Usually it’s just brushed off as babbling, but Y/N couldn’t ignore what Jake said. Especially because she couldn’t blame it on not hearing him. There was no music playing outside the bar. The music was faint enough that anything Jake had said was heard.

“When we broke up,” he started. “I was a wreck. I was immature. It could’ve worked out - it would’ve worked out if I wasn’t such a child about everything.”

“Jake —“

“No, Y/N, I need to say this now. I’m a little drunk so I actually have the balls to say everything I want to. It was stupid to break up over something as menial as distance. The things I feel for you are so intense it scares the fuck out of me. I was so afraid of being gone all the time. You deserved someone who could be there to help you study for midterms. I was always in another state and sometimes another country. I wasn’t… there to be able to help you through anything. Everything’s different now, though.”

She sighed, not entirely sure on what to do with the information that was thrown at her. She was sober enough to remember the conversation tomorrow, but not nearly drunk enough to be able to deal with it tonight. “Do you wanna just come home with me? Talk about this tomorrow morning when we’re both sober.”

“Yeah, I’d like that a lot.”

[tinyyoungblood]

okay amazing here goes...so SOUR has been on repeat and your one-shot based on the album was super cute and just EVERYTHING 🥺 but also i was listening to 'traitor' the other day and the first line goes "brown guilty eyes and little white lies" and i just. the entire song puts me in the feels over a boyfriend i never had but anyway i was thinking what if...angst with peter parker!! maybe he's been more distant lately and lying about where he's been at nights or something? i'm not sure the world is your oyster!! thank you in advance💘 hehe

strangers with memories | peter parker

pairing: peter parker x reader

warnings: pure angst

a/n: “the world is your oyster” lol you’re so sweet <3 we don’t claim the peter parker in this fic because he knows better than this. enjoy x

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was nights like these that made you feel like everything was exactly how it was supposed to be. The window was opened, leaving outside noise from the street to breeze in and blend in with the lo-fi beats playing quietly from Peter’s laptop.

Your legs were tangled under a soft blanket as Peter showed you outfit pictures from his Pinterest board, asking for your opinion. It simply made sense. The world felt at peace.

“No, I don’t think you understand. Orange and teal look really good together, see.” Peter turned his phone around to show you his screen. You squinted at the brightness, but once your eyes adjusted, you burst out laughing.

“Sure, if you want look like Perry the Platypus. Get that away from me.” You shoved his hand away and Peter grinned. He swiped to another picture with the same colours combination, and you shrieked. “Not the brown beanie! Dr. Doofenshmirtz would have a field day with this.”

Peter chuckled. He rose to his feet and tossed his phone next to you on the mattress. “I’m going to the bathroom”, he declared with an air of casualness that made you crack a smile. He was halfway through the doorway when he popped his head back in and asked, “You want anything?”

“From the bathroom?” You looked up from your phone.

Peter shrugged, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. “Uh-huh.”

You suppressed your smile. “I’m good, thanks.” He gave you another shrug and left the bathroom, whistling a tune you didn’t know.

Not a second later, Peter’s phone gave off a subtle ping. It wasn’t your intention to look, but reflexes made you glance at it from the corner of your eyes. You regretted it instantly. Your shoulders tensed. It was just a text message—nothing scandalous, but the contact name made your stomach drop.

MJ.

Her name popped up on Peter’s phone screen more often than not. You really didn’t want to be bothered. You knew they were only friends, but you could already see the broad smile edging his face as he read the message. You hated where your thoughts had taken you.

Peter trusted you and you wanted to trust him as well, desperately. You demanded yourself to take the high ground. It still felt stupid and your chest caved in just at the thought of Peter grinning at his phone. He barely even answered your texts anymore.

You could already hear the white lies he was going to feed you. But you felt yourself wanting to keep the white lies. At least, that meant getting to keep Peter. All you could do was swallow the lump in your throat and take a deep breath. The world still blurred around you.

“May asked if you’re in the mood for Thai food.” Your gaze shot to Peter’s. He was leaning against the door frame, arms folded over his chest with the same calm expression as before. Don’t ruin this. Keep the peace.

You forced a smile. “Thanks, but I don’t like Thai food.”

Peter frowned at that. “Since when? You’ve always liked it.” He appeared almost affronted before realisation crossed his face. “Oh wait, my bad, MJ liked it. We actually just had Thai food together the other night with Ned.” A private smile curled around his lips at the memory.

“Sounds nice,” you replied weakly. It was all you could say.

Peter didn’t seem to mind. He pushed himself off and strolled over, picking up his phone to see the texts he had just received. He chuckled softly at whatever he had been sent and punched in a reply.

You simply sat there, fiddling with the blanket that suddenly felt too hot. Say something, the voice inside your head demanded. Be exciting. Don’t make him lose interest. Your hands curled into a fist. You felt ridiculous.

“So about Friday night,” you began awkwardly, feeling suddenly very out of place although there was nobody else in the room. Peter’s eyes were bright with delight as he typed away on his phone.

“Hm?” He said, and you had a feeling it wasn’t because he wanted to you to go on. He just wasn’t sure if you had spoken at all.

Your cheeks hurt from forcing a smile. “Are you going to pick me up or should we just meet there?”

Peter’s eyebrows creased. “Meet you where?”

“At the movies,” you said curtly. “We wanted to watch that movie, remember? It was your idea.” The bite in your tone finally made Peter look up. It was like watching a slow car crash.

“Was it?” Peter mused, and you nodded stiffly.

“Oh.”

From somewhere on the street, you heard people arguing. Their sharp voices cut into the room and drilled themselves into your chest. Don’t let this be us. That isn’t us. We’re better than that. You fixed your eyes on the curve of Peter’s neck, concentrating on his breathing to feel like he wasn’t drifting away. In reality, you knew that the ship was already leaving the harbour and there was nothing you could do.

“Sorry,” Peter finally said, lips pursed. “I kind of already made plans with MJ. Her uncle has this cool train collection that she wanted to show me. She told me about it at lunch today and I’m really excited. It’s pretty awesome.”

Your face dropped and he had the good sense to add, “But we can always catch the movie on Monday night if you want.”

“Why not on the weekend?” A part of you dreaded to hear the answer.

Peter didn’t hesitate as he waved you off. “Ned and I wanted to get started on that new Lego set I told you about.” You had no recollection of that. Peter’s eyes flickered to you before another text message came in, demanding his full attention. The sound made you feel nauseous. The ship was a dot now, fading into the horizon while you were still stranded.

“You can join us if you want,” Peter offered with eyes glued to his phone. “MJ is going to bring Thai food, I think.”

You didn’t bother to reply. You felt claustrophobic. Pushing yourself off his bed, you headed for the window. It was already opened by a crack, but you needed fresh air. It was almost overwhelming when you stepped over the window sill and let yourself out onto the fire escape. The stairs screeched but you didn’t care for the noise. What you needed was proof that there was more out there.

The railing was cold as you wrapped your hands around them. Each window across the street was alit in numerous colours. Silhouettes moved in those colours—people with their own lives and sorrows. The world continued to live.

You settled on one of the stairs and stared up at the night sky. No stars, nothing. You were really stuck at the harbour. Peter’s room was glowing in purple thanks to the LED strips you had set up together a few weeks ago. He had bought old vinyl records and you spent the entire night rating them until sunlight pooled in through the curtains. It all felt like a pipe dream now.

You didn’t know how long you’d been sitting outside by yourself. All you knew were the colour blocks of windows, shifting in and out of blurriness. You had been too busy watching the ship sail away that you only now realised how much you had starved yourself. One good night wasn’t going to change that. Your mind was just really good at leaving out the bad parts.

“Here you are.” Peter’s voice caught you off guard. You turned away, wiping your tearstained cheeks hastily as he watched you with knitted brows. “I just came to tell you that I invited Ned and MJ over. I hope that’s fine.”

When you didn’t reply, Peter stepped out and sat on the window sill. “You okay?”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “Do I look okay to you?”

“Well,” he said, “You’ve been acting weird all week, so…I’m not sure”

“I have been acting weird?” You echoed.

Peter hesitated but lifted his shoulder in a half shrug. “Yeah, but you’re always smiling, so I just assume you’re all right.”

“You can’t be serious,” you said bitterly, tucking your hands under your thighs to stop them from shaking. “Just look what we’ve become. You can’t even tell anymore if I’m putting on a fake smile.”

“What are you talking about?” He cocked his head to the side.

“Oh, you know.” You waved your hand at nothing. “Air pollution, climate change, everything and nothing these days. But you wouldn’t know, would you.”

“Y/N,” Peter said with an edge to his voice. “Are you going to tell me what this is really about?”

You hadn’t realised that you had started pacing until his question made you halt and whip around. There was acid in your tone as you snapped, “Don’t you miss me at all?”

“What?” Peter looked stumped. “We see each other every day at school. You’re literally standing in front of me right now.”

You scoffed and sat back down on the stairs. “Love really does make people blind,” you murmured and stared at the sky. Maybe it was going to rain.

Peter exhaled sharply and knelt before you, lowering your chin to look you in the eye. He thought he could find an answer in them, but you knew that if he’d been blind to it all this time, he wasn’t going to see it now. “I don’t know what you want me to say,” he admitted, and your chest ached.

You wrapped your arms around yourself. “I want you. That’s all I wanted.”

“Wanted? You have me.” Peter pressed his lips together. “You have me right now, Y/N.”

“I don’t.” You couldn’t help but laugh bitterly. “MJ has you. She’s had you for a while now, and I’m just here watching you both from afar.”

Peter opened his mouth, most likely wanting to deny it, but no sounds came out. He simply stared and stared and stared. Your heart was racing. There was no way back, so you went on, “I don’t care if you’re just friends. I really don’t care, because it hurts just as much knowing that I still let you treat me like that. I miss you and you’re sitting right in front of me. And you know what the worst part is?”

Memories flooded your mind, bricking you like thorns. You devoured them, hungrily, because you were used to living on crumbs. Peter holding you in his arms. Peter looking tenderly after your wounds and kissing your tears. Peter turning sorrow into bliss until you were drunk on laughter and the sky was dusted in stars.

A sad smile hung to your lips. “I still think the world of you. All those nights when I had prayed for someone like you. Someone who could be my safe person and I could be theirs—I thought I had that with you.”

“You do,” Peter hissed, and at once you wondered where he found the strength to believe his own lies. He sighed. “I promise you, you did. It’s just…” Your throat went dry as he bit his tongue. “It’s not something you can control, okay? Maybe you’re just not my only safe person anymore. It’s…it’s not a big deal.” Peter’s gaze dropped as your breath caught.

You were glad you were sitting. There was no doubt that your knees would’ve given out otherwise. His confession felt like a punch to the gut. That small, pathetic voice inside your head screamed and trashed, denying everything he’d just said. A part of you was always so hopeful—Peter used to love that about you.

Remember, it tried to reason, he promised he would never hurt you. Remember how it felt to have his arms around you. It couldn’t have been a lie. None of it could’ve been a lie. You squeezed your eyes shut.

“You’re not actually sorry,” you heard yourself say. “You’re just saying that to feel good about yourself. If you were sorry, you would’ve never made all those promises—” You didn’t have it in yourself to continue. No words would’ve done you justice anyway. “If you’re just going to keep hurting me, then leave me alone.”

Something dark flared in his brown eyes. “Leave you alone?” asked Peter incredulously. “This is stupid and you know it. All of this, just because I’m friends with MJ. Don’t you think it’s a little ridiculous? We’re just friends. There’s no reason for you to get paranoid.”

“I’m being paranoid now?” Your eyes narrowed.

“That’s what I would call it, yes.”

“Then tell me this.” You jumped to your feet. “Last week, when Mr. Harrison took points off my assignment because I supposedly handed it in too late, why didn’t you speak up for me? You were there, you knew I handed it in time. All I needed was for you to tell him the truth, but you didn’t say a damn thing. Now I’m failing that class, and you know why this is the first time you’re hearing about this?”

Peter remained silent, but his eyes flickered, and the crease between his brows was evidence enough.

“Because you were too distracted giggling with MJ in the back. You didn’t even notice when I stormed out of that room, so don’t lie to yourself, Peter. You haven’t been by my side in a while now.”

You shook your head when Peter averted his gaze. Of course, he had nothing to say. Both of you knew it wasn’t just about that class. It was about the missed calls, the empty words, and all the times he had stood you up and let you down. At least he respected you enough to not deny it. No more white lies.

“See, this is the thing,” you began, swinging your leg over the window sill to step inside the room. You faced Peter and waited until his gaze drifted to yours. “You gave me your word and I was stupid enough to believe you. I trusted you. It was supposed to be you and me against the world, but you sat back and watched it beat me down because you were too busy falling in love with somebody else.”

Peter’s expression shifted and you turned your back to him. Seeing his frustration replaced by realisation was something you knew you couldn’t stomach.

So you made to leave. It was only when you were halfway through the room that you recognised the feeling simmering in your gut as something a bit different than resentment. You looked back over your shoulder, eyebrows lowered, and struggled to find your voice.

“Peter?”

It was barely a whisper, but you knew he heard you. He tore his gaze from the floor and looked at you. Wild storms were trapped in his eyes, an ocean rising. It was devasting to look at.

But it was then that you realised, that although Peter had never cheated on you, his brown guilty eyes still made him a traitor. You took a deep breath.

“Just don’t treat her how you treated me,” was all you said. And with that, you were gone.

* * *

i’d really appreciate if you left some feedback since i barely ever write angst and want to know what you think:) stay hydrated guys

[queenshelby]

The Judge’s Daughter (Part Two)

Featuring: Tommy Shelby x Virgin!Reader

Words: 4,753

 Warning: Angst, Drugs, Smut

Tag List:

@lilymurphy03  @deefigs @theflamecrystal  @chrisevanshoeee  @desperate-and-broken  @weepingstudentfishhorse  @captivatedbycillianmurphy  @fookingshelby  @livinginfantaxy  @rosey1981  @atomicsoulcollecto  @peakyboyslover  @nerdy4itall  @elenavampire21  @hanster1998  @mariapaiva13  @fairypitou  @harry-is-my-sunflower  @zozeebo  @lauren-raines-x @kasaikawa  

………

Struggling

After your intimate moment with Tommy, you both had become distant. You were angry at him and felt mislead.

How could you have fallen for a man like this? A man who was known to toy with women and who, in his own words, was incapable of loving.

Your desire for this man was almost painful, too much to bear. Even after he told you that what happened between you was a mistake and despite your anger towards him, you still wanted him. Why, you didn’t understand.

Over the course of the day, Tommy arranged another meeting with his brother Arthur and his aunt Polly Gray. The meeting was being conducted at your house. After all, it was Saturday and Tommy’s hearing to have the arrest warrant dropped wasn’t taking place until Monday. This meant, he still had to hide.

No one but close family knew he was staying with you and, after what had happened with Jimmy McCaven’s men and following what Jesse Eden had told him, matters needed to be attended to rather urgently.

What you didn’t know was that Tommy had arranged for his men to keep an eye on your father. He knew that he was in danger if McCaven’s men didn’t return following their attempted attack on you.

But, his aunt Polly didn’t agree with his decision and you overheard them talk about you and your father.

‘I don’t understand why you would be protecting the man who wanted you arrested Tommy’ Polly asked.

‘I have my reason Pol, you just need to trust me, eh’ Tommy said.

‘Is your reason a woman?’ Polly asked somewhat annoyed. ‘Because what you should be doing is give up Y/N Rosenberg and her father to Mosley and McCavern. This would make them less suspicious about you. But what you are doing instead is protect these people. Why?’ Polly asked.

‘Because it’s the right thing to do Pol. McCavern will be dealt with over the weekend and will no longer pose a problem. Some of Abrahama Gold’s men got themselves arrested yesterday and will deal with McCavern in prison. It will appear to have been a revenge killing, completely out of my control. Then I am just left to deal with Mosley’ Tommy explained.

‘Thomas Shelby, doing something because it’s the bloody right thing to do. Don’t fucking lie to me. Are you fucking her?’ Polly asked.

‘Am I fucking who?’ Tommy asked.

‘Y/N Rosenberg. Your judgment in this matter is questionable and it’s always a fucking woman when you can’t think straight. Your love for Grace almost got us all killed when you revenged her death. I am not ready to go through this again Thomas’ Polly said.

‘Don’t fucking mention Grace alright. This has nothing to do with Grace or any woman for this matter of fact’ Tommy said.

‘Alright Pol, it’s time to go. We have stuff do’ Arthur said, trying to break up the argument between her and Tommy.

‘Fine, I am coming’ Polly said as she walked to the car without paying any further attention to you and without saying goodbye.

‘Be careful brother, eh’ Arthur said as he left.

After Arthur and Polly had left, you finally found the courage and want to speak to Tommy again after what happened.

‘Thank you for protecting my father’ you said after Tommy walked into the kitchen.

‘It’s the least I can do Y/N’ he said.

‘Would you like some tea? I have just boiled the kettle’ you asked.

‘I would love some tea. Thank you’ Tommy said with a warm smile. This is the first time since the day before that you hadn’t talked to him full of anger.

‘I saw Arthur giving you another bottle of opium’ you said.

‘Yes, he did’ Tommy responded rather bluntly.

‘I don’t want you to take this stuff in my house Tommy. It’s bad for you’ you said, somewhat concerned about his health and wellbeing.

‘It’s bad for me, eh?’ Tommy chuckled.

‘It will kill you one day. Just like it killed my brother’ you said.

‘And why would you care if it did, eh? It’s not up to you to fucking save me Y/N’ Tommy said rather annoyed.

‘Because I care for you Thomas Shelby. I don’t know why, but I do’ you said.

‘I am not who you think I am. I do bad things Y/N’ Tommy explained.

‘I know, but what I’ve noticed is that you do them to a good end and that’s all that matters to me’ you said, causing Tommy to chuckle.

‘I can’t be with you. Not now’ Tommy said.

‘Why? Is it because I am too young?’ you wondered.

‘No, it’s because I am in fucking love with you, alright. Being with me will put you in danger and I cannot fucking lose anyone else I care about. Everyone I ever loved is dead now Y/N. Every fucking one’ Tommy said dishearted and full of passion and anger at the same time.

‘Well, Thomas Shelby, then I will wait for you until danger passes’ you said.

‘You might be waiting a long time Y/N’ Tommy chuckled.

‘I know’ you responded as you walked over to him and caressed his face.

‘Why would you want to waste your time waiting for a man like me, eh?’ Tommy asked, his hand running over your cheek gently.

‘Because I am also in love with you Thomas Shelby’ you said and, just like that, he leaned in to kiss you again.

The kiss started off slow and gentle but soon became urgent and heated.

It had only been midday but you desperately wanted him to take you to your bedroom yet again.

Your desire within you to be with him grew as your kisses became more passionate by the second.

You truly were in love, for the first time in your life.

‘I want you to make love to me’ you said as your lips drifted apart.

‘Y/N, its noon’ Tommy chuckled.

‘And? Do you have somewhere to be?’ you asked.

‘Apparently not’ Tommy smirked as he lifted you up with the intention to carry you to the bedroom.

‘Let me have a bath first, I’ve been out in the garden’ you said with a smile and Tommy put you back down to the floor.

‘See you upstairs then eh’ Tommy said and, just like this, you disappeared into the bathroom.

The First Time

You scrubbed yourself clean in the bath, nervous and excited, eager and hesitant.

On one hand, you were rushing, trying to get out to Tommy as quickly as you could. On the other, you knew the moment you opened the bathroom door, everything would change.

Something as simple as dressing after your shower took minutes to figure out. It seemed silly to put clothes on, knowing that Tommy was about to remove them. Walking out with nothing on, though, was beyond what your modesty would allow.

You finally decided to compromise with a silk robe, which you had hung in the bathroom earlier that day.

After you put it on, a smile played across your face as you stared in the mirror. Whilst you were nervous, you trusted Tommy and you wanted this. You wanted him.

Once your hair was dry, the robe was on, and you had sufficiently stared at yourself in the mirror, you took a deep breath and opened the door.

Tommy was sitting on the edge of the bed, wearing nothing but his undergarments.

When you stepped out of the bathroom, he stood up. His lips parted, but he didn't speak.

‘I'm ready’ you said softly.

He came to you and took your hand.

‘Are you sure that this is what you want?’ Tommy asked, knowing that this was going to be your first time sleeping with a man.

‘Yes Tommy. I want this. I want you’ you said.

‘I know, you're set on this. But if you change your mind or if something isn't feeling right you need tell me, alright?’ Tommy said.

‘Yes Tommy’ you responded before leaning forward to kiss him.

As you kissed, Tommy let go of your hand, running his hand up the side of the robe to your shoulders before removing it, exposing your naked body.

He gazed over your body with his deep blue eyes. You were nervous as you stood in front of him entirely vulnerable, but you refused to let your nervousness control you.

After the robe landed on the ground and Tommy had the chance to stare at your naked body the first time, his hands travelled back up your sides, grazing your breasts lightly before they reached your neck. Cupping your face with both hands, he brought you in for another kiss.

‘You are so fucking beautiful’ Tommy said, making you smile almost with embarrassment.

‘If you think so’ you giggled.

‘I know so’ Tommy smirked before telling you to lie on the bed.

He guided you onto the bed, fluffing the pillows around you so you were cradled in a nest of clouds, propped up so you weren’t quite lying flat on your back. When he was satisfied that you were comfortable, he joined you.

Again, he kissed you, and again you felt your limbs go weak as your mind went dizzy. Hovering over you, his head was a silhouette in the golden glow of the lamp in the corner.

‘What am I supposed to do?’ you asked nervously. Since your mother passed at a young age and you had no older sisters, you didn’t really have anyone to talk about sex with you.

‘Relax and let me take care of you’ Tommy smirked.

His lips pressed against yours before you could respond. Then they pressed to your chin, a gentle caress before moving on to your neck. His hair fell to the side of his face, tickling your skin as he feathered his way to your collarbone, his lips worshiping each patch of skin they pressed against. The tip of his tongue traced paths from freckle to freckle, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind as he mapped out your skin.

Fingertips brushed against your breast, prodding lightly as he held one in his hand. The kisses journeyed on, marking your chest and the tops of your breasts until his face was nestled in your cleavage. Again, his tongue darted out, finding an especially sensitive spot between your breasts that made me tremble beneath him.

The mix of anticipation and apprehension was intoxicating. You wanted to lose yourself under Tommy’s body, revelling in the feel of his lips against you, but the fear and excitement of what was to come clouded your mind. You told yourself to relax, to enjoy what was happening, to embrace the new sensations and the way electricity seemed to spark at Tommy’s lips and travel through your body. But your mind kept playing tricks on you and your nervousness took over.

Tommy glanced up at you, aware of the tension running through you.

‘Tell me what you're thinking’ Tommy said.

You bit your lip, not wanting to admit that you were out of your comfort zone.

‘Just a little nervous’ you whispered.

‘Do you want to stop?’ Tommy asked.

‘No’ you said as you finally closed your eyes and let your sensations take over your mind.

Tommy sucked on your nipple, then flicked it with his tongue, and a jolt of that captivating electricity shot to your core.

You moaned quietly as the hot wetness of his mouth moved against you.

You hadn't expected it to feel so good and Tommy spent quite a while there. Your enjoyment of what his mouth was doing was obvious to him. It wasn't until you squirmed beneath him, your pussy so wet you could hardly stand it, that he tore his heated attention away from your nipples and began kissing the underside of your breast.

He kissed your ribs, his tongue resuming its roaming from freckle to dotted freckle down your stomach. Both hands gripped your sides as he nuzzled against your belly button, then lowered to your hips as his lips moved an inch lower. He kissed that spot, and then an inch lower than that, and again until his lips reached the top of your mound.

You watched, your lips parting in astonishment as his head moved between your legs.

You were completely unprepared for what he was about to do. Sure, you had heard rumours of it, but in your naive little mind, you had thought it was just a joke, an urban legend, that people didn't actually do that. But there you were with Tommy in between your legs, pleasuring you with his tongue.

‘Oh god Tommy’ was all that came out of your mouth, a breathless squeak of shock at the foreign feel of his tongue pressed against your inner lips. You felt Tommy smile, saw his eyes practically sparkle just before he looked away and licked along your slit completely.

It was by far the strangest sensation that you had experienced, though not in a bad way. He explored you thoroughly, his tongue tracing every curve and crevice and even dancing along your entrance. He kissed you everywhere, from the ticklish spot where your leg met the swell of your pussy to nearly the lowest edge of your slit.

But, it wasn't until his lips surrounded your clit and he sucked incredibly gently that you understood just how much pleasure his tongue could give you.

Your eyes pinched shut as Tommy began to focus his attention there. He alternated what he was doing, spending time licking it, circling it, sucking it, and stroking it. You gasped for breath, the chills that ran through your body almost exhausting to keep up with, and a steady stream of quiet groans found their way out of your mouth without even consulting your mind.

He shifted slightly at one point, bringing your legs over his shoulders. Your thighs touched his ears, his hair tickling the inner spots that it brushed against as he lapped at you possessively, practically drinking the juices that were flooding your crease. You couldn't help but stare, watching as he ravished you, entranced at the sight of him pleasuring you in a way you hadn't even known possible.

The overwhelming feeling of losing control had just begun to prick through you when Tommy stuck a finger inside you.

‘Fuck’ you moaned as you held onto the sheets tightly while his finger entered you and his tongue never left your clit. Again, just as you groaned loudly, you could feel the foreign feeling of a smile against your most private place.

Moments later, he inserted a second finger just like the previous night. But, this time, with you lying beneath him, he found a spot you didn't know was there, the pad of his fingers pressing against it as he flattened his tongue against your clit.

‘Oh god Tommy, fuck…’ you moaned as the ascent quickened, rushing you towards the edge.

Your hands found Tommy’s head and you ran your fingers through his hair without thinking, instinctively desperate for something to hold on to. He didn't stop what he was doing as your legs tensed, didn't react when your wordless gasp turned to a muffled shriek, and didn't let go as you submitted to the lightning that consumed your body as your orgasm washed over you.

Your back arched and your thighs pressed harder against his head. Your eyes weren't open, but all you saw was white light as your body shook, everything from your toes to your fingers going numb with an electric passion that burst through you. It could have been seconds or minutes or hours; you had no concept of anything but radiating euphoria for a stretch of time.

When your body relaxed, it relaxed completely. Your thighs fell away from Tommy’s head and your fingers unfurled, releasing the grip you had on his hair. He withdrew his fingers from inside you and pressed a final kiss to the top of your mound before sitting up and grinning as he wiped his mouth.

You tried to say something but you weren’t sure what, exactly, to say. You wanted to apologise for pulling his hair. You wanted to thank him and kiss him and tell him you would be his forever if he asked you. It was likely for the best that you couldn't speak, just opened and closed your mouth a few times before shutting your eyes and groaning.

He sidled up alongside you, taking you into his arms as you regained your breath.

‘Are you okay?’ he smirked and all you could respond with was a slight ‘mhmm’.

‘I didn't even know that was a thing. Doesn't it... I don't know, taste strange?’ you asked as your mind began to function again.

‘Did you never get curious and tasted it yourself?’ Tommy chuckled.

‘No’ you said as your face went red. Tommy loosened his embrace and moved slightly back so he was looking at you.

‘Well, kiss me and find out’ Tommy chuckled.

He waited patiently for you to lean forward and kiss him. You did so uncertainly at first, your lips brushing against his as your own scent filled your senses. His lips were warm, still slick from their devotion to your pleasure. As you tasted yourself for the first time, you deepened the kiss, suddenly curious about the sweet, tarty flavour that lingered on him. It wasn't a bad taste at all, but more importantly, the memory of where that mouth of his had just been and where that taste came from excited you in a way you hadn't expected.

The kiss became about much more than finding out what you tasted like. Tommy’s arms tightened again, holding you close against his body. He still wore his undergarments, but you could feel the thick stiffness of his cock pressed against you, scorching hot even through the fabric.

He had distracted you with his mouth, but you wanted the rest of him. You slid a hand between your bodies, reaching for his stiff arousal. As your hand closed around him, he took a sharp breath, his hips moving forward to meet your hand.

‘I want to feel you inside of me Tommy’ you said just before Tommy leaned in and kissed you again.

‘Are you sure?’ Tommy asked once again as your lips parted.

‘Yes I am sure’ you said and, just like that, Tommy settled you on your back again, making sure you were comfortable before he slid to the other side of the bed and removed his undergarments. You watched, entranced, as he climbed on top of you and positioned himself in between your legs.

Your heart had to be loud enough that he could hear it. You felt almost cartoonish, as though it might jump from your skin and beat frantically outside your body.

‘If I hurt you, you tell me and I will stop, alright?’ Tommy asked as he moved himself forward, parting your legs further as he exposed your pussy, letting the backs of your thighs rest against the tops of his as he moved in closer to you.

‘Alright’ you said with a warm smile as you stared down between your bodies. You weren’t sure how exactly he would fit inside of you as you glimpsed at his size.

He took hold of his cock, nestling it against you. His tip slid against your slit for a moment, then was positioned at the entrance to your body. Once it was there, he propped himself up over you, one hand still wrapped around his cock and his face just inches from you.

His eyes didn't leave yours as he guided his cock forward. There was a moment of pressure, then a feeling of stretching as the thick head of his cock penetrated you.

You couldn't help it and tense up. The muscles of your canal tightened around his tip, gripping it, making the alien feel of having something inside it all the more pronounced. Your arms shook as your body stiffened, and Tommy stopped moving.

‘You need to relax Love’ Tommy said gently, causing you to nod.

The arm that was propping him up was near your shoulder and his hand found your hair, stroking it lightly.

‘I will be careful, I promise’ he said as you took a breath and closed your eyes.

A gentle brush of a kiss was pressed against your mouth as he comforted you.

Tommy moved his arm from between you, letting go of his cock as he pushed slightly more inside of you. You kept your eyes closed, focusing on the sensation, the way your pussy was stretching to accommodate him and the feeling of his cock against your slick walls. There was a sense of discomfort, pressure, unfamiliarity as he paused again.

You opened your eyes and looked down in between your bodies. Tommy’s cock was about halfway inside you, your entrance encircling him tightly. It felt strange, almost unreal, and the sight of it was one of the hottest things you had ever seen.

A small noise left your mouth as Tommy pushed forward even more. You watched more of his cock disappear within you, felt yourself filling up with his body. Soft pants left your lips as he sunk further and further inside you, until his skin was pressed against yours. He was all the way inside of you.

Tommy waited as your body adjusted to being impaled on his cock. It didn't hurt, that much was true. It was unfamiliar and strange, a fullness you could hardly have expected or explained, but it didn't hurt. You wouldn't have said it felt good, exactly, but it wasn't painful.

Yet another new sensation followed: a sudden loss of that fullness. As Tommy pulled his cock back out, your body relaxed even more, until just the tip of his cock was still nestled inside you.

I took a breath, as did he.

‘Are you alright?’ Tommy asked, causing you to nod.

That was all he needed to hear as he started pressing forward again. That time, it felt less strange. The fullness overtook you as he buried himself inside you again. Again, he paused once he was fully inside you, then pulled back out.

The discomfort disappeared on his third thrust. The pressure became pleasure on his fourth. The fifth time Tommy buried his cock inside you, you sighed, your head tilting back. He dipped his head forward and kissed you, his lips warm and comforting against you as he withdrew his cock again.

You felt his weight shift as he began a slow rhythm. His arms were by your shoulders, supporting most of his weight, but you still felt the pressure of his body resting heavily against yours. He no longer paused when he was fully inside you, but moved consistently, treating your body as delicately as he would a butterfly. He kissed you, murmured soft words to you, told you that you were beautiful, before he moved his head to the side and buried his face against your neck.

Growing more comfortable with the physical aspect of having him inside you, you spread your legs as wide as they could go before wrapping them around Tommy, while holding on to his shoulders tightly as he continued to thrust into you.

Tommy groaned when you did. The sensation between your legs changed, his cock seemingly deeper inside you than it was before. His rhythm staggered a bit, a few shallows thrusts off-beat, before he held still for a moment.

‘What's wrong?’ you asked as gasped.

‘Nothing, it’s just that you feel so good and it’s hard going slow when I want you so fucking much’ Tommy said.

‘Then go faster’ you said as you bit your lip. ‘

‘I don’t want to hurt you Y/N’ Tommy said.

‘I will tell you if it becomes too much’ you said and, just like that, a low growl left Tommy’s throat and his teeth grazed your neck as he started moving again.

Even at that, you didn't think he let loose the way he wanted to, but his movements became faster, harder. A wave of intensity you me as he did, making my skin prickle with delight.

That was the point where it went from feeling comfortable to feeling good.

Tommy’s breath was hot against you as he thrust harder inside you. Small noises were pushed from your throat, tiny yelps as he took the pleasure he needed from your body. His chest moved against yours, your breasts bouncing slightly against him each time he buried himself inside you.

His breathing was heavy, hot against your skin. He pressed a kiss against your neck quickly before sitting up, your arms falling back to your sides and your legs untangling from behind him with the fluidity of his movement. Our eyes didn't meet until he had hooked his arm under your knee, pushing your leg up higher than you could on your own.

You cried out, your head tilting back into the pillow as he penetrated you again, deeper than he ever had.

‘Fuck’ Tommy grunted as his movements became more intense, slightly faster, his body slapping against yours as he tunneled inside you.

‘Tommy, oh god, don’t stop’ you moaned as he moved in and out of you in a violent speed. The thrusts were deep enough that you felt like the air was being pushed out of your lungs.

It wasn’t long until Tommy could feel your walls tightening around him and your legs began to shake and, just like this, with several more deep thrusts, your orgasm washed over you and it was more intense than anything you had ever felt before.

Just after you came, Tommy cried out with each thrust until his body shuddered, his eyes squeezing shut and his face twisting in pleasure as he came inside of you, filling you with his warm cum.

As he finished, he released your leg, leaning forward again and burying his face against you neck. A muffled groan vibrated against you, sending a chill through your body that made you grin.

Slowly, he pulled out of you before lying next to you and pressing his lips onto yours.

‘Are you alright?’ he asked after your lips drifted apart.

‘Never been better’ you responded before kissing him again gently.

Just in that moment, you heard a loud knock on the door followed by another.

Tommy instantly shot up and reached for his pants and then the gun on the dresser in the bedroom.

He indicated to you to call out to see who it was but, just in this moment, two men broke in the door.

‘We are after Thomas Shelby’ one of the men said and Tommy put on his undershirt and walked downstairs, holding the gun in his hand.

‘Drop the gun’ one of the men said and Tommy could see at least four more men outside your house.

He complied and placed the gun onto the table in the hallway.

‘Thomas Shelby, you are under arrest for the attack on Rubrik & Sons Factory and the murder of Joseph Rubrik’ the man said.

‘Officer, there must be a mistake’ Tommy said.

‘Unfortunately, no sir. We have the arrest warrant right here’ the man said, reaching for Tommy’s wrist.

‘Can I at least get fucking dressed, eh?’ Tommy asked, causing the man to nod.

‘Tommy, where are they taking you?’ you asked in a haste, tears were running down your face.

‘London I would say. It will be fine Y/N, alright’ Tommy said caressing your face and kissing you before putting on his shoes and shirt.

‘This is wrong, he didn’t do this’ you said, trying to argue with the officers.

‘Mam, please let us do our job’ they said before Tommy told you to calm down.

He assured you that he would be fine and he will be back to see you.

He gave you a last kiss before the police officers pulled him away from you and you broke out in tears again.

There was nothing you could do and there was nothing he could do other than willingly surrender.

[spenciegoob]

Who Needs Luck?

A/N: hi! I solely wrote this because of my 3 recent visits to NY (no, I sadly did not meet mgg)... plus i’ve been going there my whole life.. this is becoming the longest authors note, but as i’m writing I just want to say the people who work at food trucks in nyc are the nicest people ever, ask them about their day (AND TIP OMG PLS)

Summary: Reader invites Spencer to go to New York City with her where he finally sees the beauty right in front of him.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff!

Content Warnings: reader can’t drive very well (I apologize if this is a callout post), slight road rage, language

Masterlist

Word Count: 2.4K

____

I never considered myself a lucky man. Life had proven time and time again that no matter how many four leaf clovers I set out to search for, how many pennies on the ground faced heads up I stumbled across, luck was never on my side. I’ve learned to live with it, accepted my fate as the world’s smartest punching bag long before I was even in college.

But then I met her, and as cheesy as it sounds, I didn’t need luck that morning.

The second I woke up, the universe seemed to have it out for me specifically. I swung my legs over my bed, and in my half asleep daze stepped on my glasses, successfully breaking them. Unable to see on my short trip to the bathroom, I stubbed my toe… twice. Once I finally finished my morning routine more methodically, I walked out of my apartment only to bump into a stranger, sending the coffee she was holding all the both of us.

I had tried to apologize so many times, cutting my words short when they didn’t feel right. I had gotten through a series of “I’m, uh, oh, I, you,” before her smile interrupted my thought process, leaving me awestruck instead.

“That’s okay, but you owe me a coffee now.” She giggled, actually giggled, even with the scorching liquid causing her shirt to stick to her body. “Maybe… together?”

I didn’t hesitate to agree, taking her up on the offer that weekend and never looking back. Even when a loud crash, followed by a quiet, harsh ‘shit’ woke me up in a startle, there was no regret. Maybe just a little concern for my girlfriend who now that my eyes have adjusted to the darkness, can be seen holding her knee on the floor of our bedroom.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to wake you,” she whispered out, grabbing onto the dresser to stand straight again. Once she was on her feet, she came over to sit on the edge of our bed, immediately running her fingers through my hair. If I wasn’t so worried about her knee, I probably would’ve fell asleep again.

“Are you okay?” She giggled at my scratchy morning voice before nodding her head. It’s then I realized how the sun hasn’t even begun to rise, the room still pitchblack. “What are you doing up?”

“Getting ready to go to the city, sleepyhead,” she said as if it was the most obvious answer, but truthfully, it left me with more questions.

“At... 5 am?” I sat up, glancing at the alarm clock three times just to make sure I was reading it right. She may have always been a little strange, but usually at a reasonable hour.

At this, she stood up to continue getting ready for the very early morning. Now I notice why she fell, the piles of clothes leading to the closet had to have at least half of her outfits compiled together.

“Well, yeah. I want to get there before noon.” Even in my perplexed state, I rose from the bed and carefully tiptoed around haphazardly thrown clothes to reach her.

While wrapping my arms around her waist still hidden under my t-shirt, I questioned. “It’s right outside? You have 7 hours.”

She turned to look at me funny as if I wasn’t the one digging through clothes and waking up before dawn to walk literally 5 minutes to my desired location. My eyebrows must have subconsciously furrowed at one point, because she brought her hand up to stroke her thumb on my forehead. Immediately, I felt the tension melt, no longer caring to correct my confusion. She still did it anyway.

“Not DC, silly. New York!” I wish it were untrue, but my heart dropped at her words. She was leaving, going to a city I wasn’t familiar with beyond reading about, solving cases, and memorizing subway maps. Is this how she feels every time I board that jet?

“W-what? You’re just going to New York City?” I inwardly cringed at how desperate and sad I sounded, but I really didn’t want her to leave.

“Mhm,” she mumbled, turning back around to return digging in her closet.

“For how long?” Please change your mind. Please change your mind. Please change you-

Realizing that I was fully awake, she let out a boisterous laugh, allowing the way it bounced off our four little walls to return back to us. It was a sound most treasured. “I was hoping to get back around 9.”

“What?” I leaned back to look at her like she was absolutely preposterous. I mean, she was!

“Roadtrip!”

That’s how I found myself in the passenger seat of her car, no coffee in my hand because I wasn’t allowed until I have “a real cup of coffee.” Whatever the hell that means better happen soon, because as much as I loved watching the way she concentrates on the road in front of her, my eyes were starting to droop.

“It’s going to be another 4 hours. You can sleep, my love.” How she knew me so well, I will never be able to figure out, but I was out before we even made it across state borders.

That however, didn’t last very long. My girlfriend may be short and sweet, but behind the wheel? That’s a different story. The horn to her car is a very familiar sound when I’m jolted awake by a sudden stop.

“Really, asshole? Go!” She yelled, slamming her hand against the top of the steering wheel before looking over at me. “Hey, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to wake you yet. I forgot how awful drivers are here.”

“Where is here exactly?” I questioned, sitting up from my slouched position to find cars practically on top of each other on a road not wide enough for two lanes.

“New Jersey. We’re 10 minutes away.” Wow, I didn’t realize I slept for that long, and I have to admit I’m a little surprised I wasn’t woken up sooner.

“How are we 10 minutes away? It’s at least another 30 to get to the tunnel.” Looking at our surroundings didn’t help me determine our exact location. To the left of us, there were dozens of graffiti murals on the side of what I assumed was another elevated highway. To the right, sidestreets with local businesses ranging from auto repair shops to fast food joints to gyms.

“Nuh uh, stop analyzing mister. You’ll know when we get there.” She waved a finger in my directions, putting a pin in my scrutinization. I pouted right back, successfully playing along to the theme of her scolding me like a 5 year old.

“I don’t like surprises you know.” It was the truth, but her contagious laughter that filled the car made me slightly less disinclined to stop asking questions.

“Oh I know, but trust me, you’ll like this one.” She went to go reach over to grab my hand from where it was resting in my lap, but stopped short and retracted in favor of slamming the horn. “Oh, come on!”

***

“So you drove to a train station... in New Jersey?” I asked while she was… attempting to park the car.

“Well, yeah. I’ve been taking this route since I was a little girl.” Once she finally figured out how to evenly space a two door convertible in a very spacious parking spot, she unbuckled her seatbelt, and was quick to grab her bag from the backseat. “Well, come on mister, we’re going to miss the train.”

To be quite honest, I have never been so lost in my life. I could probably pinpoint our exact location on a map if I wanted to, granted I was given any sort of information, but part of me didn’t want to. Scratch that, all of me didn’t want to, because my entire life has been planned out in front of me before, but right now, I get to be spontaneous with the most beautiful girl on the planet.

“Don’t let go of my hand,” she told me, lacing our fingers together and pulling me forward. “Don’t stop to look around, you will get pushed.”

We made it inside, and if I thought the DC transit system was bustling with people constantly, this place was so much worse. There were hallways left and right, all packed with people in a rush. It seems everybody had some place to be and zero time to get there.

“Upstairs.” We walked up two flights before reaching a platform, buying our tickets and making it just in time for a train to arrive. “I know they come every 8 minutes, but thank god we made this one,” she said as she sat down.

The cart we were in wasn’t too crowded, and once I finally found a map on the wall across from us, I saw that it was a direct ride to the World Trade Center.

“You said you took this train when you were little?”

“Yeah, I went to the city a lot as a kid. This was the easiest, and the cheapest way there.” A small smile played at her lips, obviously the product of some childhood memory. “I used to hop it.”

“Of course you did,” I laughed back with her, thinking about how an innocent looking child would be the first person to get away with sneaking onto the train.

***

“I said it before, I will say it again. Do not let go of my hand.” This time it was more stern, and if I were being honest, I would say that it got me the slightest bit nervous. She must have noticed, she always does, because she continued. “Don’t worry, it just gets congested and I don’t want to lose you.”

She was right about that, it indeed was very congested, but that was okay because she was holding my hand, and I would follow her just about anywhere if it meant she kept looking over her shoulder and smiling when she saw me. Once we made it across the way, and in front of heavy looking glass doors, she turned to me and started walking backwards.

“You okay? This is definitely not off to a great start.” She was wrong, it was off to a perfect start.

“Yeah, I’m okay, but you might want to watch where you’re going,” I said before her back hit the door.

“Please I can get here with my eyes closed.” And then we were outside, and all 5 of my senses were hit immediately. The sun was shining down on us, and before I could complain about not bringing my sunglasses, she handed them to me. My heart fluttered at the innocent act, taking the sunglasses with such gratitude even though she had already moved on to retrieve hers. “Do you smell that?” She asked.

“There are a lot of answers to that question,” I told her, not knowing if she was talking about the smell of the construction happening at the corner, the permanent garbage smell or something entirely different.

“The hotdogs, silly. Come on, there’s nothing like ‘em.” This time, I laced our fingers together, not because I was scared of losing her, I was, but I just really wanted to be closer to her. She didn’t mind, in fact, she let out a content hum and leaned her head on my arm as we walked to the stand.

“Can I get four hotdogs with sauerkraut and two grape sodas,” she asked the vendor, who politely nodded before moving on to prepare our food.

“You’re going to have a heart attack by 35,” I said as I nudged her with my shoulder. She gave me a small push back before answering.

“Is that a doctor’s diagnosis?” She asked as she took our now ready food into her hands, after paying the man before I even had time to blink. I just grabbed the two cans of soda and followed her where she was making a beeline for a park bench. “Watch out for skaters.”

“Yes, it is indeed a doctor's diagnosis.” I unwrapped one of the hotdogs before taking a bite. I closed my eyes and let out a content hum. “It may be a little worth it.”

“Exactly.” We sat there quietly, enjoying the warm weather and sounds of wheels against pavement. At one point, she rested her head against my shoulder, and I am convinced wherever she went would be Heaven.

***

“Are your eyes closed?” We found ourselves with both our hands interlocked, my eyes closed while she walked backwards. I gave an ‘mhm’ before she continued. “We’re here, just keep them closed, and…” her words trailed off. “Okay open.”

I opened my eyes to her holding her arms out in the middle of the largest bookstore I’ve ever seen. “Surprise!” My eyes were bouncing everywhere. It wasn’t too crowded, the large stairwell across the store catching my eye first. There were bookshelves tens of feet high, all loaded with different genres and authors. To the right of us, tiny knick knacks and pins and socks. It was beautiful.

“Wow,” I whispered out, still stuck in my place admiring our surroundings. She was beaming up at me, a hint of pride at her successfulness to drag me 6 hours away to the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen.

“The Strand has always been my favorite place in the city. Come on, let’s go explore.” She grabbed my hands again, pulling me deeper into the store towards a shelf labeled adult fiction.

***

Six books, three pairs of socks and a postcard later, we were back on the busy streets of New York, aimlessly walking and admiring the tall buildings and different attractions. Well she was, I was admiring the way she was looking around like it was her first time here. Maybe I should have been paying more attention to our surroundings, but no amount of skyscrapers or fountains could possibly ever match up to her level of beauty. 

“Have I ever told you how much I love you?” I asked randomly, startling her into jumping a tiny bit before giggling. She stopped us, turning to face me fully before reaching up to grab my face in her hands.

“Once or twice.” The kiss we shared on the New York streets were no different than the ones before, but this time, it felt like a silent promise. A passing between two lovers that no matter where we are, our love is the most beautiful thing there is. “I love you too, dork.”

___

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[oreomonsterhunter]

Life Sucks

Pairing: Lee Know x reader

Word Count: 10K (I know.....this was a surprise for me, too)

Genre: fluff, romantic comedy

Warnings: language (our characters have a tendency to curse, apparently)

Summary: Sunshine reader is in love with love, but hasn’t had much luck with it herself.  When she meets Minho, a self-proclaimed cynic and disbeliever of “true love”, she’s determined to change his life.  If she can’t find the love of her life, she’s going to try to find his.

This fic was inspired by a tag game once upon a time.  It was supposed to be a short drabble, but apparently I can’t hold back with Minho.  Tag game featured this specific Lee Know and just kinda spiraled from there lol

Nearing the end of January, winter sometimes seemed endless.  Yet when you stepped out into the morning chill, you were pleasantly surprised to find the snow banks melting a bit.  Your boots splashed through small puddles as you strode down the street, and you smiled softly at the lavender sky.  It was still early enough—for a Saturday—that the sidewalks weren’t too packed yet, so you indulged in a more leisurely walk than usual, dancing along to the music from your headphones.  You caught a few odd looks, but you simply smiled and waved at everyone you passed.  They could judge your happiness all they wanted, nothing could possibly spoil your day when it was off to such a good start—

“Shit,” you gasped, jumping back onto the curb as a car barrelled through a red light.  Had you been a second slower, you would’ve been a vehicular manslaughter case.  “Asshole,” you hollered after them, flipping two middle fingers in the air.

You exhaled a sharp breath through your nose, attempting to banish the exasperation and get back into your music again.  More careful this time, you double checked both ways down the street before entering the crosswalk.

Unfortunately, your streak of bad luck continued.  Just as you hopped off the street, a truck passed by behind you, tires bumping through a pothole.  And with the recent snowmelt, this resulted in a spray of cold water hitting the backs of your legs.

You froze, mind stuttering as you tried to comprehend how the morning had taken such a turn, all within your first five minutes outside.  Pursing your lips, you twisted around to inspect the damage.  The dirty water might stain your jeans, but the most pressing matter was the cold and wet denim now plastered to your legs from your calves to the backs of your knees.  You bit your lip, contemplating just turning back and spending the whole day in your apartment.  Pajamas, a blanket, hot coffee and tea readily available.  Maybe a movie, just because you could.

Then you shook your head, determined to make the best of the day.  You wanted a cappuccino, dammit.  And chocolate babka from the cafe.  No homicidal drivers or puddles could stop you.  It was a Saturday, just past sunrise, and you had a whole day ahead of you.  No need to wallow a few minutes in.  And besides, who knew what would happen.

You set off for the cafe, determination heavy in each step.  You forced a smile back onto your lips, though it was thinner than before.  You switched to a different playlist so that your boots could thump the concrete in time.  And you breathed, spooling calmness back into yourself.

It was a Saturday.  You might meet the love of your life today.  And nothing could stop you from finding out.

The bell over the front door jingled merrily, and you softened a little further, relaxing into the familiar surroundings.  You hardly even noticed the damp denim chafing your legs as you skipped up to the counter.

Ruth, currently manning the register, chuckled as she rang up another customer.  “Well would you look at that, the sun came shining right in our front door,” she said.

“Good morning,” you giggled.  You waved to Jonathan, Ruth’s husband, in the back.  The couple had been running the little cafe and bakery for years, and you were a faithful customer, coming by at least once a week since you first moved to the neighborhood.

“Morning, Sunshine,” he called, hands busy kneading dough for what would doubtless become something delicious.  You hummed thoughtfully, considering the baked goods in the glass case before you.

“Your usual?”

You tapped a finger on your chin, “You know, the poppy seed muffins look awfully tempting.  I might just have to switch it up today.”

Ruth nodded, tapping on the register.  You handed over the requisite bills and she shooed you off, sliding the muffin over the counter.  “Go on now, a table opened up by the window, perfect spot.  I’ll bring the coffee in a minute.”

“Thank you,” you said, but Ruth was already fussing over the espresso machine.  Shaking your head, you weave through the maze of tables and chairs, dodging patrons on your way to the window seat.

You had your eyes on the prize, and you were only a few feet from the chair when you pulled up short.  A stranger, their back to you, plopped down in your chair.  You blinked, suddenly and painfully aware of your wet pants, the muffin growing cool in your hand, the fact that you could give up now and walk home but perhaps you’d just get hit by a car and never get a chance to enjoy your breakfast.  You sighed deeply, breathing out through your nose as you closed your eyes, seeking inner peace or something.

“Can I help you?”

The voice knocked you out of your momentary meditation, and you looked at the table thief in surprise.  He loosened the fluffy scarf around his neck before sliding his arms out of his winter coat.  A beret, of all things, tilted dangerously to the side before he adjusted it on his head.  He looked like some kind of absent-minded professor, but for the youthful features that peered up at you.  A sharp nose, tinted red from the cold, and a soft mouth.  Dark and depthless eyes, paired with high cheekbones and a cutting jawline.

You realized you were staring when he waved at you, eyes widened.  “Hello?”

“Um, sorry, I just,” you stammered, lost for words.

“Do you want to sit or something?”

You stopped again, mouth dropping open.  You checked the time—you had fifteen minutes or so, enough time for another table to open up.  “Uh, sure, if that’s ok with you.  I was hoping for a table, I’m meeting someone,” you said, beginning to ramble.

“No problem, I don’t need all this space, and I’ll head out soon,” he cut you off, raising one brow at you when you continued to stand there, rooted to the spot.

Ruth’s arrival with your cappuccino was what ultimately forced your hand.  You sat down, gratefully accepting the drink, your smile less shaky with a taste of the familiar.

“I didn’t think they did table service,” the stranger mused.

“They don’t, I just know the owners,” you shook your head, cutting yourself off when you saw his disinterest.  “Sorry, I should introduce myself,” you switched tacks, giving your name with a bright grin.  So what if it was forced?

The stranger looked at you, and his lips twitched in a shadow of a smirk.  “Minho,” he responded.

Silence fell, heavy and awkward, and you found yourself leaning forward desperately.  “So how’s your day so far?”

Minho snorted, reaching for his own drink—an iced americano, you guessed, despite it being the middle of winter.  “Probably better than yours.”

“What?” your brows furrowed in confusion.

He gestured to your legs with one hand.  “Unfortunate accident this morning?”

Your lips tightened, holding back a frown, “Puddles, you know.”

Minho sighed, sounding sympathetic now, rather than snarky.  “Yeah, life sucks, doesn’t it?”  And there was the sarcasm again.

“One or two bad things doesn’t mean life sucks,” you countered, sipping your coffee.  “I’m excited about the rest of the day, it’s not even eight in the morning!  And it’s the weekend, and it’s sunny and warm, and I have hot coffee and a delicious muffin, and the world is out there and ready to be enjoyed,” you finished, lips curling up as you looked out the window at the sunrise, the horizon flaming golden.

“Sounds like you’ve never had a job,” a harsh voice cut into your admiration.  Your smile faltered as you looked back at Minho.  You gaped at him, brain processing the way this soft-looking boy sounded like the king of cynics.  The last thing you expected from someone wearing a fuzzy beret and looking like a sly teddy bear was this blunt conversation.  “No one’s that excited when they have to work fifty plus hour weeks to pay the bills.  Trust fund baby?” he inquired, sipping calmly.

Yep, there was no fighting the frown now.  “No, and I don’t appreciate the judgement.  Why can’t I just be happy?”

Minho smirked, “Never said you can’t.  I just wanted to see if you had a personality beyond being Positive Polly.”

Your eyes flamed, but your phone buzzed, distracting you before you could smite the snarky boy.  You fumbled at your coat pocket, whipping out the device to check for a new message.  You slumped—just a spam email.

“Waiting for something important?” Minho asked, tilting his head.

You huffed, shoving the device back in your pocket.  “As a matter of fact, yes,” you sassed, tossing your hair over one shoulder.  “I’m waiting for a date.”

He hummed at you, expression unreadable.  “You’re too excited.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, eyeing the clock on the far wall of the cafe.

“You’re significantly early, watching the clock like a hawk, and they haven’t even texted you an update.”  He took a long sip.  “What time is your date anyway?  Eight in the morning?  They’re not coming.”

Your smile faltered again.  Damn him, why was a total stranger dimming your joy?  You shoved your chair back, even though no tables had opened up yet.  You’d wait by the counter and chat with Ruth.  Anything was better than this asshole.

Minho glanced over his shoulder, checking the clock himself.  “Five past, and still nothing,” he commented.

“Fuck you,” you spat.

A spark appeared in his eyes, and he grinned.  “Good to see you have some backbone,” he commented.

You could’ve sworn steam was coming out of your ears, but your phone vibrated again.  You checked the lock screen, seeing a new text pop up from Jay: hey I can’t make it.  You swiped on the message, but nothing followed it.  Seriously?  That was it?  No explanation, and not even a half-assed apology?

“Told you so.”

You spun to face Minho, glare renewed.  “And what makes you so sure of yourself and my date?” you demanded.

He snorted, “Life sucks; so does dating.  The only thing you’re guaranteed is disappointment.”

Your anger faded slightly as you watched the boy sip his iced coffee, his silhouette stark against the snow outside.  When you took a breath to get past your own mingled frustration—both at Jay and your new snarky companion—you saw the tense lines of his face.  You wondered what disappointment had left Minho so defensive.

“Alright, enlighten me,” you said, throwing yourself back in the chair.  This time, you settled in, sliding out of your coat and leaning forward with your coffee.  “Who broke your heart?”

A look of disgust slid over those pretty features.  “No one broke anything,” he scoffed, turning to the window and giving you another dose of his sharp profile.  You rested your chin on your hand thoughtfully, just watching him and waiting.  “Stop looking at me like that,” he muttered.  “You’re not my therapist.”

“But I am a perfectly kind stranger.  And strangers are the easiest people to talk to,” you said sunnily.

“And don’t sound so happy.”

“No can do, people call me Sunshine for a reason.”

Minho gave a long-suffering sigh.  “I’m not calling you that.”

Now you were the one with a cocky smirk, “Why, does it hurt your delicate masculinity?”

A beat of silence, and then, “One of my best friends is called Sunshine.”  Minho looked at you sharply.  “I’m not calling you that,” he said again.

You waved him off, oddly touched in spite of his gruff tone.  This human version of grumpy cat had a best friend named Sunshine?  Incredible, and surprisingly soft of him.  “Ok fine, no arguments from me.  Tell me about her.  Or him, whoever it is,” you stumbled over your words.

Minho didn’t seem to notice your blundering.  He stared somewhere beyond your shoulder, “No one broke my heart.”  Then his eyes focused on you again as he asserted, “I’ve just experienced enough to know better than to hope blindly.  The world isn’t looking out for you.”

Humming, you folded your arms as you considered his statements.  “Well, I believe in true love,” you started.

“Why am I not surprised?”  Minho groaned, rolling his eyes.

“I also believe in the power of positive thinking,” you continued as if he hadn’t spoken.  Ignoring his dramatic moaning, you steamrolled ahead.  “Yeah, my morning turned out pretty shitty, but if I just go crawl back in bed, I’ll have wasted a whole day over something as silly as wet jeans.”

“Wet jeans and being stood up.”

“And being stood up,” you allowed, gritting your teeth to maintain a smile.  “But if I let that stop me from living my life, then I’ve let the negative win.  If I go check out a new dating app or two and keep trying, one day I’ll have something good.”

Minho put his coffee down, resting one hand on the table as he met your eyes, gaze hard.  “Listen, nothing good comes out of a dating app.  You’re wasting your time.  And didn’t you say you hate doing that?”

You wanted to argue, but your friends had told you much of the same.  Minho was just less polite in his delivery.  But you hadn’t had any luck with real life men, either.  Case in point: your irritating argument with the perfectly attractive guy in front of you.  So that left apps, even if the pickings were regrettably slim.  And only growing slimmer, if the ghost date was any indication.  You didn’t have the guts to tell Minho that this wasn’t the first time you’d been stood up.

Then you had an idea.  Your grin widened, and Minho’s irritated expression faded into apprehension.  “Well if I’m doomed to never find love,” you started, batting your eyelashes teasingly.  “Why don’t I look for the love of your life instead?”

Minho blanched, recoiling with enough force that his chair rocked back on two legs.  “Yeah, no.  I don’t think so, sweetheart.”

“I think it’s a terrific idea,” you beamed at him.  “I’ve been a successful matchmaker for a bunch of my friends, too.  I’ve just had trouble finding my own love interest.”

“What is this, a rom com?” he hissed.

You clapped your hands, overcome with excitement for the first time since the puddle.  “Oh, a romance, I wish,” you nearly swooned at the thought.  “I promise I’ll do my best.  You’d get along great with one of my friends, they’re just as irritable as you.”

Minho exhaled sharply, massaging his forehead with one hand.  He closed his eyes, muttering, “What am I doing here?”

“Wait, wait, I’m getting ahead of myself.  No matchmaking until I know you better,” you amended, whipping out a notebook and pen from your bag.  You had just about everything in there—you never knew what emergency might pop up, like brainstorming a match for a stranger.  “What are some of your hobbies?  Favorite color?  Ooh, what about first date activities you love?  Oh my goodness, wait, are you looking for men or women?”

Part of you expected Minho to shove his chair back and leave.  You wouldn’t be too upset, that just meant you’d have the table to yourself, even if you weren’t waiting on a date anymore.  But you didn’t totally hate this guy.  And another part of you kind of felt bad for him.  He’d never experienced love!  Not that you’d had a taste of true love, either, but you knew what was out there.  And it was a shame that he didn’t see that too.  It was like...someone hating your favorite holiday—unacceptable, if only because you wanted everyone to enjoy it as much as you did.

You begrudgingly admitted that another teeny tiny part of you thought he was too attractive to be so cynical of love.  Some lucky girl out there was waiting for Minho, and you were gonna help her out, even if it meant dragging the man kicking and screaming towards her.

But Minho didn’t do what you expected.  He didn’t storm off, coffee in hand, scarf flapping in the wind dramatically.  He sighed and stood up, but made no move for his coat.  “If we’re doing this, I need more coffee,” he said, then turned and made a beeline for the counter without any further explanation.

You blinked after him, more than a bit surprised.  He was...going along with this?  You tapped the pen against your chin thoughtfully, watching his shoulders flex beneath his turtleneck as he talked to Ruth.  His head turned slightly, and you caught a glimpse of his smile—a real one—taking your breath away.

Now, if only you could get him to smile like that for any potential dates.  You clicked your pen with renewed vigor, laughing when Minho approached with a new coffee, exasperation written into every line of his face.

* * * * *

It was a lovely Thursday night, and you were curled up on the couch in your comfiest pajamas.  Your only companions were a blanket, a mug of tea, and your phone, which you checked every fifteen seconds.  The first time all week that Minho hadn’t answered your messages, and it was the night of his first date.  You were buzzing with anticipation, practically vibrating as you waited for news, not caring who it came from first.

Finally, you gave up waiting, throwing the blanket as you went to reheat your tea, since you’d let it grow cold while refreshing your messages.  The second you reached the kitchen, however, you heard a buzz.  You dashed to the couch, scrambling for your phone to find a text from Mari:

He had to dip early, lame date

You nearly screeched.  He left?  Your fingers pounded the screen:

What!?!?!! Did he say whyyy?

Mari’s response was short and to the point:

An “emergency”

You could read between the lines.  Mari was irritated, to say the least, since the blind date had been your brilliant idea.  But what on earth had happened with Minho?  Your stomach dropped, considering that he might have an actual emergency.  You quickly tapped out a message to him to check in, gnawing your lip in worry.

Hey, Mari said you had an emergency, is everything ok?

You waited what felt like ten thousand years before finally seeing the little bubbles appear.  His message, however, was not worth the wait:

Didn’t get on with her

You fumed, pressing dial on his contact with enough force, you were amazed your screen didn’t crack.  “You left because you didn’t like her?” you screeched as soon as he picked up.

“Yes.”

Gaping like a fish, you fumbled for words to explain how bad that was.  “You can’t just—”

“But I did,” Minho cut you off.

“But you can’t,” you said, exasperated.  “Jeez, I thought you knew what you were doing.  Obviously not.  You need a practice date or something so my friends don’t murder you.”

Now it was Minho’s turn to squawk indignantly.  “I do not need practice,” he started.

“Yes, obviously you do.  You might look like a player but you’ve obviously never talked to a girl for more than ten minutes,” you scolded him.  “Who leaves in the middle of a date?  With that bad of an excuse?”

“I hate wasting my time.  Didn’t we discuss how we should avoid doing that with our love lives,” he snarked.

You groaned, “There’s a difference between not wasting your time and being rude as heck.”

“So what?  She was abrasive, rude, cynical, and had a terrible sense of humor,” Minho said, as casually as if he was discussing the weather.  “I can’t believe you’re friends.”

“That’s a pretty great description of you, too,” you sassed back, irritation taking over.  “We might not be that close, but you can’t just insult everyone I set you up with.”

“Who said I wanted you to set me up with anyone?”

“I assumed you did, otherwise why are you going along with this?” you tried your best to calm down, lower your voice.  But something about Minho just put your back up.

“Uh,” Minho actually seemed lost for words.  Your ears perked up, eager to catch his answer.  “My mom wants to set me up with her friends’ daughters,” he tossed out at last.

Seemed a bit too easy.  “Sure,” you drawled, leaning back on the couch.

“Yes, really,” he sneered, and you giggled, picturing the exact expression on his face.

“Ok, whatever you say,” you allowed, laughing slightly.  “But you’re still going on a practice date.  Tomorrow night, six o’clock.  Meet me at the cafe.  If you’re not there, I’m gonna find your mom and help her out.”

You hung up on him before he could argue with you, grinning madly as you concocted your plan.

* * * * *

You half expected to wait for Minho to show up, much like your friend did, but much to your surprise, he was waiting for you under the awning when you arrived.  “You’re late,” Minho accused, and you grinned sheepishly.  You may or may not have lied about the time.  Just in case.

“The queen is never late.  Everyone else is simply early,” you quipped.  Minho rolled his eyes—absolutely what you expected.  You giggled, linking your arm through his and tugging him down the sidewalk with you.

“Woah,” Minho yanked at his arm, trying to free himself.  “If you wanted to hold hands, you could have asked.”

“You’re too much of a grinch, you’d just say no.”

“Exactly.  It’s called consent, sweetheart.”

He nearly fell at the sudden freedom when you released him, shoving your hands deeper into your pockets to escape the chill.  “Alright, follow me then, you unromantic dork.”  He muttered under his breath as you skipped away, having fun despite his attitude.  Time to show him what a real date looked like.

Five seconds later, and not even two blocks from the cafe, Minho groaned, “Are we there yet?”

“No.”

A pause, then, “Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise,” you told him, not for the first time.  He’d texted you all night, demanding to know, but your lips were sealed.

Except a certain someone seemed determined to annoy the answers out of you.  “Are we there yet?”

You sighed, your skip feeling a little less peppy.  “No.”

“Are we—”

“Minho,” you ground out.  “If you ask me that one more time, I’m taking you to get your nails done.”

“Ok, sure.  I could use a bit of pampering,” he said, the epitome of casual.

You stared at him.  “This feels like a trick,” you said slowly.

A grin flashed, “That’s because it is.  It’s after six, they’re all closed by now.”  But then he frowned slightly.  “Now you have me wanting a manicure though, I’ve never gotten one.”

Your brows were practically in your hairline but you just nodded.  “Ok, another time, then,” you agreed.  You caught sight of a familiar street sign and quickened your steps.  “Almost there,” you were nearly vibrating in excitement.  You felt Minho’s eyes on you, your skin prickling with awareness, but you ignored him in favor of racing around the street corner.  And there it was—the zoo!  All lit up...all lit…...not lit up at all.  Your feet stumbled to a halt.

“So the zoo is open at night now?” Minho inquired at your shoulder.

You gaped at the dark expanse before you.  “But where are the lights?”  Because indeed, not a single light was on in the zoo.  You’d just visited, not too long ago, and they had been open for night visits, so guests could walk around and see the trees all lit up, and wave hello to a few animals in the enclosures.

“Lights?”

“The Christmas lights,” you cried out, frantic.  “They were up the last time I was here.”

“You mean a month ago?  For Christmas?  Back when it was still December?” Minho questioned you.  You nearly snapped back before you realized.  It was January.  February next week.  Of course the lights were down, what kind of idiot were you?

You groaned in defeat, slumping against the wall and sliding down to a crouch.  You threw your arms over your head.  “I don’t know what we’re going to do, then.  I’m sorry I made you walk all this way,” you mumbled into your knees, wishing you could disappear into the sidewalk.  Gosh, and you’d really dragged him along, hadn’t you?  He obviously hadn’t been that excited, and all of your mysterious “it’s a surprise” nonsense only made this a bigger disappointment.

“It’s a Friday night, things are still open, you know,” Minho pointed out.  “So what if you somehow forgot a whole month happened.  I forget the year sometimes.”

“What are you, an old man?” you tried to perk up, but the tease fell flat.

“I’m only twenty-two.  You must be ancient.”  You picked up your head to look at him.  A faint smile curled on his lips as he played along.

“Oh my gosh, I’m your noona.  If you’re a grandpa, then I’m practically in the grave,” you forced out a chuckle.

Minho’s smile grew, and he extended a hand.  “Come on, get up.  Night’s still young.”

For a moment, you simply stared at his hand.  Then you met his dark gaze, “You aren’t going to take advantage of this?  I thought you hated the whole practice date idea.”

He sighed, wiggling his fingers at you.  “I don’t hate spending time with you, alright?  Now get up or I’m leaving you here.”

Your mouth twitched, a true smile threatening to form, and not just a cover-up.  You slid your hand in his gratefully, and Minho pulled you to your feet with more strength than you thought he had.  You blinked at him, realizing he hadn’t let your hand go yet.  But the second his eyes followed your gaze, he dropped it, sliding his hands into his pants pockets instead.

“So where to?” Minho asked.

You opened your mouth to respond, remembering a pretty little outdoor skating rink, but the skies cracked open, interrupting you with a sudden deluge.  You gasped as the first fat raindrops splattered on your forehead, eyes widening before you made a mad dash for the nearest storefront, Minho already a few steps ahead of you.

You’d barely been in the rain for a minute, but the icy water had your teeth chattering already.  Had it been any colder, this would’ve been pretty snow.  Instead, you got an arctic firehose.

Arms wrapped tightly around yourself, you peered down the street.  Beside you, Minho checked a weather app, hissing through his teeth.  “Looks like rain all night,” he muttered.

You groaned again, wanting to cry.  You’d completely messed up the evening, first with the lights, and now by not checking the weather.  You’d planned an outdoor date, why hadn’t you checked?

A hand brushed your shoulder lightly, barely detectable through your coat.  “Um, this might not be what you had planned, but my apartment is actually on this street.  Wanna just order pizza?”

Your first instinct was a vehement “no”, but you stopped that answer on the tip of your tongue.  Minho wasn’t one of the sleazy guys you’d gone out with in the past, the ones who’d thought an apartment invite was more than that.  Plus, this wasn’t a real date or anything.  It was a practice date, just pals, nothing crazy about that.  So why couldn’t you grab pizza at his place?  Especially with the monsoon and a long walk back to your own place.  And no umbrella.

You found yourself nodding, shivers wracking your body.  Minho’s teeth flashed in another fierce grin, “Alright, sweetheart, let’s make a run for it.  In three, two, one—”

The two of you raced down the slick sidewalks, dodging lampposts and puddles alike.  You skidded to a stop at one of the apartment buildings, nearly slamming into Minho’s back as he yanked the door open, and the two of you tumbled into the warm lobby.  Once out of the wet, Minho shook his head like a dog, water droplets spraying everywhere, and you shrieked, hands coming up to protect yourself.

“Sorry,” Minho laughed, not sounding apologetic in the least.  “I’m on the sixth floor, so we can take the elevator,” he said, pointing you in the right direction.

The ride up was awkward; the only sound was your jacket zipper rattling from the force of your shivers.  Minho unlocked the door to his apartment, waving a hand dramatically.  You stepped inside tentatively, toeing off your boots by the door.  You watched Minho follow suit, then pad over to a closet along one wall.  Your confusion abated when he emerged with towels, passing one to you with raised brows.  The two of you were still soaking wet, and you didn’t want to track rainwater all over his apartment.

Minho was already drying his head off one-handed.  When he stopped, letting the towel slip down to rest on his shoulders, you giggled at the sight of his hair.  He made a face, only adding to the comic effect of his hair standing on end.

“I know you drink coffee, but what about hot tea?” he asked, making his way to the kitchen while you continued to dab at your clothes.

You nodded enthusiastically, eyeing the space from where you stood in the entryway.  It was pretty minimal, not a ton of color or anything, but cozy.  Black couch, gray curtains, some photos on the wall.  Fairly tidy, but definitely nothing out of a magazine.  A meow at your feet interrupted your train of thought, and you looked down to coo at the cats that were slowly approaching.  “Well aren’t you gorgeous,” you complimented the bravest of the three, who nosed at your hand gingerly.

“Soonie, Doongi, and Dori,” Minho said, pointing at each cat in turn.  He leaned on the counter while waiting for the water to boil.

“They’re adorable,” you beamed at him.  “And much more friendly.”

“Hey,” he narrowed his eyes.  “I’m friendly.”

“Yeah, right,” you laughed at him.  Your mirth was interrupted by a fierce shiver, reminding you that you might not be dripping wet, but your clothes were still icy cold.

Minho eyed you as you wrapped your arms around yourself.  “I have sweats you can borrow.”

You started to protest, but the next shudder of cold made you change your mind.  Besides, you didn’t want to get his furniture soaking wet.  So you nodded and waited while Minho disappeared into the bedroom.  You shuffled awkwardly to the kitchen, toes curling in your socks.

Minho reappeared.  “Here,” he said, voice gruff.  He pressed a pair of sweatpants into your hands, along with a fuzzy looking sweatshirt.  Your turtleneck wasn’t too wet, just a little damp along the neckline, but you slid the extra layer over your head gratefully.  Before you had to ask him, Minho pointed to a half-open door.  “The bathroom.  I’m going to get something dry on, too,” he added.

You smiled in relief, escaping to the small bathroom gratefully.  As soon as the door was shut, you were scrabbling at the soaking wet denim, peeling it down your legs.  You grimaced, not missing this experience at all after the last time.  Minho’s sweatpants were soft and oh so warm by comparison.  And fleece-lined, too.  You slung your jeans over the shower rod to dry, rolled the ankles of your borrowed pants—just enough so you wouldn’t be drowning in excess material—and went in search of that promised hot tea.

You found Minho on the phone in the kitchen.  When he noticed you, he waved you closer.  “Do you like anything on your pizza?” he asked.

“Um,” you scrambled to collect your thoughts.  “Cheese?”

Minho cracked a smile.  “Cheese it is then.  And peppers, onions, cherry tomatoes, garlic, basil,” he rattled off what sounded like an entire grocery list.  When he noticed you staring, Minho raised his brows in confusion.  You shook your head with a small laugh, leaving him to it.  On the counter behind him, you found two mugs, tea bags already steeping.  You wrapped your cold fingers around one, humming in contentment.  Finally, the shivers stopped.

“Wanna watch a movie while we wait for pizza?” Minho asked, but then he froze, grimacing.  “Oh shit, sorry.  I mean, you can go home if you want.  I don’t mean to keep you if you don’t want to stay.  I have an umbrella, and you can keep the sweats I guess—”

“Sure how about a romance?” you interrupted him, grabbing your tea and making your way to the couch.  You plopped down, eyeing Minho, who was still stiff as a board by the counter.  You giggled at him, “Maybe you’ll learn a thing or two from Mr. Darcy.”

That seemed to knock him out of his stupor.  An indignant expression wiped away any trace of sheepishness, and he stomped over to find the remote.  “Yeah right,” he scoffed.  “I’m not watching a romance.”

“A romantic comedy then,” you decided, snatching the remote out of his hands.

He grabbed it back, lightning quick.  “Action.”

You narrowed your eyes, crossing your arms defiantly.  “Drama.  Fight me and I’ll demand a Hallmark movie.”

Minho smirked, “Fight me and I’ll make it a horror movie.”

You groaned in disgust, glaring at him.  “Ok, fine, let’s fight over it.  Rock, paper, scissors?”

He rolled his eyes, but ended up on the couch beside you, holding one fist out to meet yours.  “Best out of three,” he smirked.  “Get ready for a zombie fest.”

After a crushing defeat, Minho slumped on the couch, moaning dramatically when you selected Pride and Prejudice.  You giggled at the grumpy man beside you, and his similarity to Mr. Darcy.  Most notably their matching pouts.

To your surprise, Minho didn’t interrupt the movie once.  Sure, he grumbled at first, but when you snuck a peek at him after about half an hour, you caught him watching intently.

You’d seen the movie at least a dozen times by now, but you still couldn’t resist the pull, and your heart fluttered at the brush of hands the way it did every time.  Your breath caught at every interaction, and you couldn’t tear your eyes away to save your life.  Until the pizza arrived, at least.  You were about to press play, two slices at the ready, when Minho looked over at you.  “Why are you so in love with the idea of love?” he asked.

You gaped at him for a moment, taken aback.  “What?”

“Not just the movie, but real life,” he said, twisting to face you fully.  “Why are you so determined to find Mr. Right?  Or to set me up on the perfect date?”

“Don’t you want to find someone?” you questioned him, backing away from the question.  “You can’t possibly be putting up with me just to avoid your mom playing matchmaker.  I’m literally no better than that.”

He scoffed, “You haven’t met my mother.”

“Maybe I should team up with her.”

“Oh please no.”

You grinned, grabbing a slice of pizza.  “Oh please yes,” you teased.  “Two matchmakers are better than one.”

Minho shot you an unimpressed look.  “I told her I already have a girlfriend, but I felt bad lying to her, so I’m hanging out with you instead.”

You nearly choked on your pizza.  So you were a pity friend, great.  Or worse, you weren’t even real friends, you were just a convenient excuse to alleviate Minho’s guilt complex.  You set the slice back down, no longer hungry.

“Hey, you know I’m joking, right?  That was a joke.  I’m sarcastic all the time, remember?” Minho nudged you.

“Yeah, sure.”

Minho sighed, leaning over to bump his shoulder into yours.  “I might not love the matchmaking, or this dumb movie, but I guess I’m glad we bumped into each other so I could tell you to dump ghost boy from Tinder.”  You snorted, biting back a small smile.  Noticing this, Minho forged ahead, “And this better not be part of the act to get me to forget my first question, because you still haven’t answered.”

“Minho,” you whined.  “Why does it matter?”

“Pretend it’s girls night.  We’re practically having a sleepover, minus the nail polish and braids.  This is the part where we talk about boys,” he smirked.

“I hate you.”

“Do we need to watch 10 Things I Hate About You next?”

Your brows rose.  “I thought you didn’t like romance, how do you even know that movie?”

“.....No reason.  Now answer the question already,” he huffed.

You sighed, curling up on your end of the couch.  “I guess it’s just something I’m not good at, so I can’t help wanting it to fall in my lap,” you said.  “I can’t pull all nighters to find love, that’s not how it works.”

“Well no, studying isn’t the answer,” Minho agreed.

“My parents have the kind of love I want.  I’m not rosy-eyed or anything, I know it’s hard work and commitment.  But the friendship—that’s what I love the most.”

The two of you sat in silence for a little while, Minho chewing on your words.  And you mused on your recent attempts to find a partner.  Perhaps dating apps weren’t the way to go, you admitted.  Not to Minho, though.  He’d never let you hear the end of it.

“Maybe,” Minho started.  “You should look for new friends instead of new boyfriends.”

“What do you think this is?” you laughed.  “I’ve been setting you up, not looking on Tinder or whatever for myself.”

“Good, you’ve wasted enough time on those trash apps already,” he groused.

You grinned at him, “So I guess you don’t want me to start looking for Bumble girls, huh?”

“Don’t even think about it.”

You giggled, but Minho pressed play on the movie before you could tease him any more.  To your surprise, he looked as interested in the ending as you were.  You doubted he was misty-eyed like you, though.

A yawn snuck up on you, and you glanced at the clock in surprise.  How had it gotten so late?  “I should probably be going,” you started.

“I’ll walk you home.  It’s late.”  Minho grabbed your dishes to bring to the sink, snatching them right out of your hands.  You blinked after him, then shrugged, making your way to the bathroom.

Unfortunately, your jeans were still damp, but they’d be fine for the walk home.  You squeezed yourself back into the denim, emerging with the borrowed sweatpants.  “Laundry?” you asked, since Minho was busy with the dishes.

“Just inside the bedroom, next to the door,” he gestured with his chin, hands still sudsy.

You slid the sweatshirt off as well, placing both in the hamper by the door.  Despite your curiosity, you didn’t linger, but you caught a glimpse of an equally tidy bedroom.  And a large bed with dark sheets.  Why was your heart pounding?  Mr. Darcy hadn’t been that distracting.  You shook your head, hurrying out of the room.  Only then you came face-to-face with Minho, and you had to fight a blush.  What on earth was wrong with you?

The awkwardness continued, and you felt strange and itchy the whole walk home with Minho.  You were hyper aware of how close you were under the umbrella, of the way your elbows brushed every few steps.  Minho was surprisingly quiet, as well.  Ordinarily, he’d be making fun of you by now.

As you walked the last block together, you tilted your head to look at him.  “So tonight was a fail,” you said.

“What the heck are you talking about?”

“The practice date?” you giggled at his expression.  “Total failure.”

Minho’s frown deepened, “I thought it was fun.  Even if you made me watch a period drama.”

“Oh no, it was wonderful, but the date part of it was a bust.  We need to do another, since tonight doesn’t count,” you told him, slowing to a stop in front of your building’s entrance.

“Well what does count?” Minho asked, exasperation dripping from his tone.

“Hmm, something in public.  No one ever does a private first date, and obviously that’s what you need the most help with,” you sassed.  “Maybe I’ll kick your ass in laser tag or something.”

“Maybe I should beat you in bowling,” Minho retorted.

You hummed, tapping a finger off your chin.  “You might be onto something, actually.  How about you come up with our next practice date.  That’s your homework.”

“Since when is this a class?  With homework assignments?” Minho demanded.

“Oh shut it, or I’m making profiles for you on every dating app I know.”

* * * * *

You looked over at Minho, suspicion tugging at you.  “So when you said you should beat me at bowling, did you mean it?”

“I’m going to try and win at whatever we do, I’m competitive like that,” Minho said, holding the door open for you.

“No, I mean, are you secretly a professional bowler or something?” you corrected, making your way towards the shoe rental.

Minho chuckled, “I doubt you’ll believe whatever I say.”

You opened your mouth to object, but decided he was right.  “You better not be hustling me,” you threatened, slapping cash down on the counter.

“Pay per game or pay per hour?” the attendant asked.

Minho cheekily slid a few bills beside yours.  “Best out of three?”

“Insufferable,” you muttered, watching as the attendant took his money instead of yours.

At least Minho looked just as goofy as you did.  The brightly colored bowling shoes looked very out of place against his “cool guy” outfit.  You’d already poked fun at him.  Who showed up to a date wearing sweats?  Not that he looked bad in them, but you had at least dressed up a bit.  Then again, you might not have worn a dress if you had known that bowling was on the agenda.  You tugged at the sleeves of your sweater dress, feeling a bit out of place as you looked at all of the other couples.  Jeans, slacks, more jeans...why had you decided to dress up?  You should’ve known Minho would pick something casual.

“Hey, you wanna go first, or should I?” Minho’s voice cut through your thoughts, and you shook the negativity away gratefully.

“You go ahead,” you called over to him, trying to find a smile.  What were you so worked up about?  It’s not like this was a real date.  You could have shown up in a potato sack if you wanted, you weren’t trying to impress anyone, least of all Minho.  On that thought, maybe he had the better idea after all.  You eyed his sweatpants enviously.  You knew how comfy they were, and they’d doubtless be better than the tights you were terrified of ripping.

“Ok sweetheart, prepare for a thrashing,” Minho joked, selecting a bowling ball from the rack.

“You prepare for a thrashing,” you countered, despite knowing it was an empty threat.  You probably needed the bumpers if you wanted anything but gutter balls.  Then you caught sight of the names on the board.  “Did you seriously make my nickname ‘Loser’?  What are we, five?”

Minho smirked as he passed you.  “We’ve been over this, I’m a grandpa, you’ve got one foot in the grave.  Childish antics are beneath us,” he said with a laugh.

“So you’re ‘Lee Know’?” you inquired, curious about his chosen nickname.

Minho turned to face you, tilting his head.  “Yeah, that’s what my friends call me.”

“...Am I supposed to call you that?”

“We’re friends, aren’t we?  Call me whatever you want.  Just not ‘asshole’,” he joked.  Your heart warmed, and a true smile found its way to your lips.  You watched as Minho wiggled a little, eyeing the pins at the end of the lane.  Then, to your utmost surprise, he turned around and rolled the ball between his legs.

“What?” you choked on a laugh, nearly falling over at the sight.  Minho backed up, and you both watched as the ball rolled down the lane, painfully slow.  It ended up knocking down half of the pins, much to your surprise.  Minho just looked proud as he picked up another ball.  Miracle of miracles, he wound up with a spare.

You had no words, didn’t even bother trying to explain how his technique had any sort of success.  Your own attempt was...pitiful by comparison.  Your form looked good, but both balls wound up in the gutter in a matter of seconds.

Minho didn’t waste the opportunity to gloat.  “Told you I’d beat you at bowling,” he said with a wink.

You grumbled, flopping down onto the bench next to him.  “I didn’t expect you to be successful at the toddler technique.”

“Give it a go, maybe we’ll change your nickname if you win,” he laughed, getting up for his turn.

Halfway through the game, you even tried the ‘toddler technique’.  This was also a fail, made worse with the mortifying realization that your underwear would be visible if you bent over too far.  When your attempt ended up in the gutter, you resolved to get bumpers for the next game.

But Minho had other plans.  You had just approached the lane when you felt a hand on your shoulder.  “Keep your wrist straight, you keep twisting it at the last second,” he said.

You turned to face him, finding him close behind you.  “Anything else, wise one?”

“Don’t overthink it,” he smiled at you.  This close, you could swear his eyes were twinkling.  “We can both go get bumpers next round, I need them almost as much as you.  I’m amazed at my own streak of luck tonight.”

“I’m terrible at bowling,” you whined, looking away from him.  Your cheeks felt warm.  Gosh, it was embarrassing to be this bad.

“We can go do something else, we don’t even need to finish this game, let alone all three.  As long as you’re having fun, I’m happy.”

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, but looked away quickly.  He was watching you so intently, the flush burned hotter, threatening to run down your neck.  “I’m sorry you paid for so many games.  We can definitely finish them, it’s fine—”

“I’ll never make you do something you don’t want to do,” Minho murmured.  You looked at him in surprise, surprised to hear him sounding sincere rather than snarky.  “Otherwise, I’d be a shitty friend, wouldn’t I?”

“Right, yeah.  An asshole friend,” you agreed, nearly stumbling over the words.

“Ok, I’ll let you focus on your first strike of the night.  Don’t overthink it,” he reminded you, walking back to the bench.

You nodded, ignoring the tight feeling in your stomach that reminded you of disappointment.  And you sank another one right into the gutter.

Minho’s solution to the bowling fiasco was consolation ice cream.  Somewhat surprising, since a part of you had expected him to gloat.  Instead, he talked about anything and everything but bowling, entertaining you while you both sat at the window of the local shop.  You simply watched him, enraptured.  He had hardly opened up at all to you at first.  Visiting his apartment felt like the first peek into the real Minho.  The happy memories captured in picture frames, the handmade mementos here and there on shelves, all hints as to the soft interior of your once-prickly friend.  Now he was regaling you with stories of his best friends—brothers, by the sound of it.  Loving rivalry, playful banter, sibling torment.  And the look on his face...pride.  He was proud of them, his family.

Then you paused, tilted your head to look at him anew.  When had Minho stopped being prickly?  Where was the cynical, negative, angsty boy you’d befriended, partly out of spite?  When had he stopped trying to hold you back with barbed wire edges?

When Minho caught your gaze, he lifted one brow, mouth twitching into a crooked smile.  “See something you like?” he sassed you.  But his remark was devoid of bitterness.  It wasn’t mocking, it was warm, inviting.  It was asking you to join in on the joke.

“Yeah,” you said softly.  Then you turned up the wattage on your smile, grinning widely at him.  “What’s cookin’, good lookin’?”

Minho rolled his eyes at your antics, spinning his ice cream cone between his fingers.  But hidden behind your grin was more than a little truth.

* * * * *

You knocked on the door, stepping back tentatively.  You could hear raucous laughter on the other side, which would ordinarily have you curious, maybe a little excited to join in.  Not tonight.  Right now, standing in the hallway outside Minho’s apartment, you were nervous as hell.  And on top of it all, you were nearly an hour late, having dragged your feet the whole way there.

“Stop it, this is ridiculous,” you muttered to yourself, shifting from foot to foot.  It felt like meeting the parents, which was dumb.  Firstly, you and Minho were not dating.  Secondly, these were his best friends, not his parents.  And thirdly, you and Minho were good friends.  You had nothing to worry about.  Absolutely nothing.

Which was why you were currently worrying all over the place about meeting Minho’s best friends.  What if they hated you?  Or worse, what if they pitied you?  You thought you’d disappear into a crack in the earth if that happened.

Before you could spend too long contemplating your inevitable end, the door swung open, and a boy came rushing out at you.  You gasped, jumping back before he could run into you.

“Sorry, sorry, excuse me!” he blurted, skidding to a stop, then immediately taking off running down the hallway.

You blinked in confusion, but your eyes only widened when a second boy came barrelling out of the apartment after the first.  “Minho?”

Minho paused briefly, eyes alighting on your stiff figure.  “Hi!  Um, I need to take care of something, but I’ll be right back.  Go on in,” he waved at you, breaking into a jog, and then a sprint.

Immensely confused, you peered into the apartment, now that the door was wide open.  Now or never, you told yourself firmly.  Easing through the doorway, you caught sight of six more boys in various states of chaos.  Upon noticing your entrance, they all froze.  “Uh, hello there,” came a voice on your right.  You looked over to see two boys in the kitchen, appearing to be mid-struggle with a bag of popcorn.  “You must be Minho’s friend, he said you’d be coming.”

You gave a tiny wave, pasting on a sunshine smile.  “Hi guys, it’s nice to meet you, I think?  Should I be concerned about the escapee?”

Popcorn boy number two laughed, arms bulging as he ripped open the bag.  “Oh no, Hyunjin will be fine.  Minho hasn’t made him eat toilet paper in years, he’s above that now.”  You must have looked concerned, because the boy chuckled again, waving you off.  “It’s all empty threats with that one.  Mostly.  I’m Changbin, by the way.”

Popcorn boy number one stepped forward, extending a hand to shake.  “I’m Chan, and this is our menagerie of chaos.  Let me introduce you to everyone,” he offered.  You grinned at him, relieved.

By the time Minho returned, practically dragging Hyunjin with him, you were giggling on the couch with the rest of the boys, embroiled in a fierce MarioKart race.  With Hyunjin still trapped in a headlock, Minho paused to watch.  You just barely caught a glimpse of him from the corner of your eye, too focused on staying on the track.  Jeongin had chosen Rainbow Road for your first match, and you were determined to crush them in the dust.  Even if it had been several years since you last played.

You watched as your character was knocked off the edge, a cry of dismay falling from your lips.  “Dang it, I wasn’t even in first place, what gives?”

Han grinned victoriously, only to cry out when he accidentally drove over the edge as well.  “Friends fall together?” he joked.

“You made me go ziplining.  Alone,” Minho said, announcing his presence at last.

“Uhhhh,” Han fumbled for an excuse.  “You love me anyway, though, right?”

Before Minho could retort, Seungmin stood up.  “You can play next, if you want,” he offered.

The rest of you blinked at him in surprise, before looking at his screen and realizing he’d already won the race.  Jeongin groaned dramatically, flailing on the couch as he came in second.  You and Han just gave up entirely, letting your characters fall off the track once more.  Meanwhile, Minho finally decided to release Hyunjin, and the blonde escaped to the other end of the couch, diving into a bowl of chips like nothing had happened.

Felix looked excited, so you tossed him your remote for the next round.  “I believe I was promised food,” you said, arching an eyebrow in Minho’s direction.

“I believe I told you to arrive at six,” he fired back, stalking towards you.  He finally stopped a foot away, looming over you.

You smirked at him, “What did I tell you on our first date?”

The room went silent, and you froze, realizing your mistake.  “You guys are dating and you didn’t tell us?” Han exclaimed, eyes wide.

Your mouth opened and closed, but you couldn’t seem to find any words.

“Oh yeah, real fancy dates, too.  We had dinner at the Eiffel tower last week,” Minho drawled.  “Isn’t that right, sugar plum?”  The cherry on top was when he reached out, lightly pinching your cheek.

A stranger might have mistaken his dry tone for sincerity, but everyone in the room knew Minho’s humor well.  Half of the group dissolved into giggles.  Changbin rolled his eyes and threw a pillow, but Minho caught it before it could smack into you.  “No wonder you don’t have a girlfriend,” Changbin joked.

“All those promises and no follow through,” Han clucked his tongue in mock-disapproval, then ducked when Minho tossed the pillow at him next.

Your cheeks threatened to catch on fire again.  The situation only worsened when you met Minho’s dark gaze, his eyes ensnaring you.  “So,” you threw out desperately, clapping your hands together.  “The food?  Or am I going to starve?  Not very boyfriend-like,” you tried to laugh.  The joke must have been convincing, because the boys merely chuckled, going back to their game.

Minho still hadn’t moved from where he stood over you.  Instead of moving back so you could get up, he extended a hand.  You bit your lip, teeth digging in, but you placed your hand in his rather than make a scene.  The last thing you wanted was more attention, especially with your cheeks warming up past their usual temperature.

Fortunately, he released you as soon as you regained your footing.  Your fingers flexed lightly, hand falling back to your side.  You kept your chin high as you followed Minho to the kitchen, ignoring the prickling feeling that the boys were still watching you.

“Pizza?” you blurted out, incredulous.  “Don’t you eat anything else?”

Minho snorted, leaning against the counter.  “For the record, I do know how to cook.”

You snooped in the fridge, disbelieving.  “Of course, all evidence points to you being a five star chef,” you said, casting a pointed look at the empty shelves within.

He chuckled, folding his arms while he watched you investigate.  “Sweetheart, if you wanted me to cook for you, all you had to do was ask.”

You hummed, closing the refrigerator once more.  “I’m kinda afraid you’ll burn something, to be honest,” you teased, grabbing a plate from the cabinet and selecting a slice of now-cold pizza.  You popped the pizza in the microwave, then relaxed against the counter opposite Minho.  He was still watching you intently, and you frowned.  “What?  Do I have something on my face?” you asked him.

Minho shook his head wordlessly.  Self-consciousness took hold, and you looked down awkwardly, brushing your hair behind one ear.  “Hey, I’m sorry about what I said.  I totally didn’t mean it the way it came out.”

“I know,” he said, one corner of his mouth quirking up in a half smile.

You tipped your chin again, unable to look at him for long.  Even if Minho seemed to forgive your blunder, you still couldn’t believe you’d blurted that out.  Your hair fell in front of your face again, and you let it, happy to hide behind the locks.

Then another pair of feet appeared a few inches from yours.  Plain black socks next to your patterned ones, covered in cartoon rainbows.  Then a butterfly touch along the side of your face, soft enough that you almost doubted the sensation.  You lifted your gaze, but this time, Minho’s eyes weren’t on yours.  Instead, his laser focus was directed on the hair he was gently situating behind your ear again.

You realized you had forgotten to breathe when he finally took a step back, and your lungs remembered to inflate.

“For the record, you’re right,” Minho said softly.  “The queen is never late.”

* * * * *

It was nearing midnight by the time Minho’s friends started leaving.  You eyed the clock, then went to grab your shoes as well.  “I better get going, I want to get home sometime before dawn,” you joked.

“How close do you live?  Are you taking the bus?” Chan asked, worry evident in his tone.

You waved him off, “I’m just a few blocks away, not too long of a walk.  Bus doesn’t run after ten or so, anyway.”

Chan frowned, but Minho cut him off before he could say anything.  “I was going to walk her home, it’s pretty late.”

That was a surprise to you, but seemed to alleviate Chan’s concern.  The others waved goodbye on their way out, Chan following them.  “Nice to meet you,” he said, shooting you a quick grin before closing the door behind him.

“You really don’t have to,” you started.

“I want to.  It’s late,” Minho reminded you.

“I didn’t argue last time, but I didn’t want to steal your umbrella.”  You narrowed your eyes at him.  “I’m not some little girl in need of protection.  It’s a perfectly safe neighborhood.”

Minho didn’t look up, busy tying his shoes.  “I like walking.”

“At midnight?”

“Any time of day, really.”

You rolled your eyes.  “Do you walk Jeongin home, too?”

“Sure did.  He moved in with Han, though, so I don’t anymore,” he said simply.  “You don’t have a roommate.  If no one’s there to make sure you get home safe, I want to walk with you.”

You gaped at him, unable to fault his logic.  And not really wanting to.  “Thanks,” you murmured, scuffing one shoe into the floor.

Minho stood up again, a crooked smile on his lips.  “Don’t mention it,” he said, snagging his keys.  “After you.”

Walking home with Minho, you were reminded of the first time.  Then, you’d been so awkward, quiet.  Unsure of yourself.  You’d been worried that you were some kind of pity friend at first, but after getting to know Minho, you knew that wasn’t the case.  And now that you’d grown comfortable around each other, you could hardly get him to shut up.  Even now, he was talking about his dance team’s newest choreo, his words running together from excitement.

You smiled, just listening.  This was all you really wanted, if you let yourself admit it.  The Tinder dates were just a shit attempt at finding someone to sit and listen to for hours.  You wanted movie nights and quiet mornings with someone who cared about you.  You wanted a cute little house and kids and a dog.  Maybe a cat.  Maybe three.

Shit.

You were so wrapped up in your realization that you didn’t realize you’d reached your apartment building until Minho snagged your elbow to pull you to a stop.  “This isn’t a midnight hike, where do you think you’re going?” he asked incredulously.

You laughed nervously, “Oh, sorry, I was pretty lost in thought.”

“Apparently.  Were you listening to a word I said?  Some friend you are,” he snorted.

Friend.  Right.  Your realization didn’t mean much.  Why were you surprised?  You hadn’t had luck in the romantic department in years, why would that change now?  Minho was your friend, and it was obvious that his opinion of you wasn’t going to change.  Why would it?  He was way out of your league.

Gosh, now you felt like a fool.  You’d really just daydreamed about a happily ever after with him.  Why did you ever bother getting your hopes up?  You were always bound for disappointment.  Hadn’t your crappy dates taught you anything?

Minho called your name, bringing you back down to reality.  “Sorry,” you muttered, fumbling in your bag to find your keys.

“Are you alright?” he asked.  Shoot, now he sounded concerned.

You pasted a sunny smile on your face, “Totally fine.  Thank you for walking me back.  I won’t keep you any longer.”

You turned away to walk up the steps, but the smile fell as soon as he was out of sight.  How were you only just coming to the realization that you were halfway—or perhaps all the way—in love with him?  His face was burned into your mind’s eye.  Brows furrowed in confusion, slight pout, and those damned eyes.  You’d probably been in love with his eyes from the beginning.

“I only agreed to let you play matchmaker so I could see you again.”

You stopped at the top of the steps, not quite believing your ears.  Turning slightly, you looked at Minho over your shoulder.

Once he had your attention, he continued, “I bailed on the date with your friend because I knew you’d yell at me.”

Lips parting in surprise, you turned to face him fully.  Minho put a foot on the first step, gaze locked on yours.  You weren’t sure what he saw when he looked at you, but his mouth softened into a slight smile.

“I was going to do the classic move of teaching you to bowl, but I chickened out,” he said.  “I wish I hadn’t.”

“What are you...why are you telling me this?” you asked, fingers curling nervously.

He ascended another step, “You only smile like that when you’re sad.  When you start getting in your own head about what you deserve.”  Another step, “And I’m tired of hiding.”

Now he was only two steps away.  Close enough to touch, if you dared to reach out.  You didn’t.  “We’re friends,” you said, voice small.

“Yeah, we are,” he agreed.  Then he bit his lip, drawing your attention like bees to honey.  You sucked in a breath, closing your eyes firmly.  When you opened them, Minho was on the step just below you.  “Tell me to stop,” he said, voice low.  You didn’t.

Your breath stuttered to a stop, your whole body stilling at the electric shock of his lips on yours.  For a moment, you were frozen, utterly focused on the whisper of a touch.  Then Minho pulled away, and you could breathe again, gasping for air.  But you didn’t want it to be over.  Your eyes fluttered open, finding his dark gaze melting into you.

This time, you let yourself fall into him, ignoring the voice in the back of your head that said this was a fantasy.  He caught you, one arm wrapping around your waist, his other hand coming to your jawline.  He ascended that final step, pulling your body into his.  His lips were plush, a little dry.  Real.  Minho was here, warm under your fingertips.

His hand slid up into your hair, slowly enough to make you shiver.  You sighed into the kiss, goosebumps appearing on your arms as his fingers gently tugged the strands.  And then his mouth opened beneath you, and you let yourself tumble into sensation, drowning in him.

You don’t know how long you kissed, but your heart was racing when you finally came up for air.  Minho panted, little breaths puffing against your lips.  He rested his forehead against yours, the weight somehow grounding you.

“Do you understand now?”  Minho’s voice was hoarse, deeper than before.  You shivered, just a bit, and the corner of his lips twitched up.

You couldn’t find words, unable to string any coherent thoughts together.  And you didn’t really want to, happy to have your mind all to yourself, no doubts in sight.  You leaned forward, placing a small kiss on the tip of Minho’s nose.  He scrunched his face up, making you giggle.  But you needed to know one thing.  “Are we—are things different now?”

“We’re dating.  Unless you don’t want that,” he backtracked, eyes wide.

You grinned at him.  “I do.”

He heaved out a sigh of relief.  “Thank goodness.  I thought I really fucked up there.”

Now you really laughed, head falling forward to rest on his chest.  Minho’s arms tightened around you, pulling you closer than you thought was possible.  You could hear his heartbeat, thudding just as fast as yours.

“You said the friendship was your favorite part of love,” Minho mused.  You hummed in agreement, nodding against him.  “Well I hope you don’t get sick of me.  I hear I’m pretty annoying.”

“Minho,” you rolled your eyes.

“I know you just rolled your eyes at me,” he teased.

“Well, you are annoying.  But I suppose it’s a part of your charm.”

He chuckled, “So that means you like my jokes?”

You smiled fondly, “Don’t push it.”

* * * * *

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