#everyone I knew got a car from their parents

[marbofmoorock]

Would love to see Kinger and Queenie, as well as Zooble and Caine drawn in this AU TOO. PLEASE MAKE IT HAPPEN! Fantasy Winter Wonderland, so perfectly in season. Maybe Caine and Zooble could have a dynamic of some kind, where Caine could be like Zooble's caring Uncle who wears goofy sweaters and tells funny stories about from his imagination about a fictional life in the circus as a ringmaster (he's a chatterbox beause his head is a mouth, lol), and Zooble is like an angsty college student caught in a feud betweenn divorced parents, moving in with her uncle to get away from all of the mess.

I'm gonna make a short story of it, would love to see accompanying art!!!

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Cainooble: A Winter Wonderland Special!

It was a wonderful Winter Wonderland of a day, Christmas had just passed, and everyone was out playing in the snow to enjoy the winter days before the new year. Pomni and Gummigoo laugh and play out in the snow, sliding down the hill on Gummigoo's new sled his parents got him for Christmas. Gangle watches them timidly from the top of thr hill as a sort of happy third wheel to their group, wearing a kimono and a fluffy coat as well to stay warm, preferring to watch them play. Ragatha and Jax share a hot cocoa in a nearby house as siblings, chatting away about what they loved most. Kinger and Queeenie in another house enjoy some quiet time together, with a few friends over, including Dobby Dog, Orbsman, and many others.

Then there's Zooble, a frustrated 20 something, having just quit her job due to transferring colleges, unable to stay at her local college due to how much her parents fought. Zooble was so done with their fighting as an only child, she literally was having trouble with her identity, looking for support and help, but they're too distracted with yelling at each other over such silly things like money. She decided to put her foot down and move to the University in the next town, packing up her stuff to go live with Uncle Caine, his father's brother whom was usually fun to be around and actually cared about Zooble. He lived in Mulberry, a Picturesque Town in Minnesota, that was postcard worthy during the winter.

She drove the somewhat icy roads carefully and found herself pulling up to Uncle Caine's nice house. He was a bachelor who never married, so he had lots of room in his big house for his precious niece! Growing up she would visit and make Christmas cookies and chill with her cheery Uncle, although they had stopped that recently, due to her mother trying to be possessive a out stuff and starting fights with her dad, them trying to leave Uncle Caine out of the feud. Zooble, while slightly disgruntled over all of what happened at home with mom and dad, was slightly relieved at seeing Uncle Caine's house as she found his neighborhood.

Not too long after she carefully parked the car in the driveway, Caine came out of the house in a coat.

"HEY HEEEEEY, THERE'S MY FAVORITE NIECE, Salutations on thus blustery cold daaaaaay!"

Zooble, seeing Caine, smiled weakly, happy to see Caine after all that she'd been through, leaving the house to come live here.

"Thank you do much Uncle Caine. Mom and Dad haven't been their best lately..."

"DON'T YOU WORRY YOUR PRETTY LITTLE HEAD, YOU'LL HAVE A FRESH START HERE IN MULBERRY. It's the quietest town in Minnesota, and it's SUCH A MIRACLE you didn't skid off the roads, they're quite icy here. I'm so glad you made it, I was tempted to call, but i knew how competent you were Zoobie!"

They both hugged it out for a moment in the cold, Zooble felt like crying because she was so grateful to her uncle Caine. Caine noticed she's clinging to him as they hugged and held her close as well.

"It'll be okay, Zoobie, it'll be like your last visit, but LONGER! THAT'S RIGHT, YOU GET TO STAAAAAY HEEEEERE, FOR AS LONG AS YOU'D LIKE." Said Caine, with an exuberant voice that sounded like a game show host. "WE'RE FAMILY AFTER ALL. Go on in. There's hot cocoa in the kitchen. I'll get your bags! Oh, and feel free to just call me Caine, I think you're old enough to just call me by my first name now, hahaha!"

Zooble nods silently, her smiling expression more present as she's happy that her Uncle took her in.

Inside, she sips her hot cocoa, and Caine comes in shortly after, with most of her bags, of which he gets the rest in a second trip.

Then he joins Zooble for some hot cocoa once he's fully back inside with Zooble's luggage altogether by the door.

"So Zoobie, what do you think of Mulberry? It's so lovely here, no?"

"Yeah, it's pretty great Caine, I'm gonna like it here."

"I'm soooo delighted to hear that! It's so nice here Zoobie, you'll love plenty of people your age here, and the college is small and cozy. Mulberry U was my alma mater, you know. Aaah, it seems like yesterday when I walked out with my communications degree! The TV station has been a perfect job for me, telling everyone about the weather is certainly a real peachy job with its own challenges, but as Mark Twain once said, make your vocation your vacation, and all will be well, hahahaaa!"

Zooble smiles, happy to see her uncle in such good spirits.

They chat the rest of the night, and Zooble gets a good night's rest. As she goes on, she adjusts to her new life in Mulberry and becomes friends with Pomni, Gangle, and Ragatha, as well as the other tadc cast in the neighborhood, including new characters.

The End.

Knock knock! Guess who's online again! 🥂

For now, check out the sketches of the characters in the form of teenagers / children + bonus ( AIS AU ⛸️❄)

+bonus (I drew the art a long time ago, but decided to show it only now)

Unfortunately, I was away for a long time due to personal problems. The beginning of the year turned out to be difficult.

I was COMPLETELY deprived of the opportunity to draw on a graphics tablet.I also had to move in with my dad after a fight with my mom. Now I'm drawing on my phone in the Ibis Paint X app with my finger, which is unusual for me.

However, there is some good news! It's my birthday next month, and my dad promised to give me an iPad! (I've never used it before.)

Therefore, I will temporarily post less art on Tumblr.(sorry)

[bluem1lls]

(srry for anon😭) id love to see a se-mi smut fic with the brothers best friend trope… obviously only if ur comfy w it!!! im literally taking se-mi crumbs rn but i adore ur fics !

✧₊⁺ i can see you (makes me want you even more)

se-mi x fem!reader

✦ synopsis: don't ever fall for your brother's best friend. but when she kisses you like that, when she fucks you like that, how could you not?

content: minors DNI, brother's best friend! se-mi x younger sister reader, smut, fingering/oral (r!receiving), spanking, daddy kink, squirt, choking, angst, se-mi is 24 here x reader is 22, fluff at the end!

authors note: hiii omg im so sorry for the weekend, i was exhausted!! but i made this, gathering these three requests together so i hope you love it!

"no"

"yes- it's not even a question! she's coming!"

"you lied to me! you said she wasn't!"

"you wouldn't have come if i told you!"

i sighed as i smacked him. he quickly hit me back.

"if she bothers me, i'll punch her. i'm not kidding."

"fine, whatever" my brother, nam-gyu, rolled his eyes.

he's been insisting that i came to this trip for like a year, saying he missed me. i haven't seen the gang for a whole year. we all used to get along just fine, except se-mi and i.

she used to make fun of me for being nam-gyu's little sister. ever since they became friends (when i was 12 and they were 14), she's been a bitch to me. i argued more with her than with my own brother, but somehow, she always found a way to fix it at night.

when her and her girlfriend mocked me for my pjs at 16, making me cry, she waited till midnight to sneak into my room, laying in bed besides me as we watched my favorite tv show.

"i'm sorry. i really like these. don't ever take them off"

and when i was 18, she told the entire group i was the most annoying girl she knew. but once they all left, she set up a pillowfort downstairs along with my favorite snacks. we played videogames there all night.

"i'm sorry. it wasn't true. you're the coolest girl i know"

and when i turned 20, me and nam-gyu had a big fight. she took his side while i sobbed. but when everyone went to bed, she came to my room and hold me as i sobbed on her chest until i fell asleep on her.

"you're so stubborn.. but we-..b-but he loves you so much. he's trying to take care of you"

and with time, i started to fell in love with her. the feelings growing more and more each year.

she was my first love. my first not reciprocated love.

"hurry up, min-su said they're outside!"

"i'm coming" i yelled at him as i grabbed my suitcase, checking if i packed everything.

as we left the house and said goodbye to our parents, my brother carried my luggage to the trunk.

thanos switched from driver to the passenger seat to leave nam-gyu. se-mi was sitting in the backseat, looking by the window from the left side. min-su was in the middle and i was supposed to sit on the right side of the window seat.

i opened the car door and got in as the three stared at me up and down.

"look who's finally here" thanos turned around to smirk at me as he spoke. "holy shit you look so much older! the last time we saw you you were like 21, how old are you now?"

"you don't say that to a girl! and it's been only a year!" i smacked his head as he winced.

"we missed you! even se-mi missed you!" i hugged min-su as i rolled my eyes at his comment while se-mi snorted.

"how could i not miss the princess of the group?" she said in a low voice. our eyes met after one year as she scanned my face.

here we go again.

"hey. we will have a peaceful trip to the cabin. did the four of you heard me?" my brother said, getting in as he started the car.

"can we go get something to eat?" i whined.

"you just finished the entire bag of pretzels all by yourself, and you're still hungry?" min-su said, not even looking at me as the four of them were rotting on the couch, playing with the ps4 dad installed last summer.

"i swear i'll start crying, i'm starving! and i've also been wanting to play all afternoon but none of you-" i said as the doorbell interrupted my big speech. se-mi quickly got up and threw the controller to me as i lifted one brow.

"take it, got more important shit to do than to hear you whine" she said, running to open the door.

i could hear a feminine voice talking as se-mi chuckled and moved aside, letting her in.

"come in pretty, so, this is the entire gang and that's nam-gyu's annoying little sister" she said introducing us, as i stared offended.

the girl stood behind her. she had long black hair and soft eyes, she looked just like one of se-mi's perfect victims.

the guys said a quick 'hey', without even taking their eyes off the screen.

"but let's go upstairs, i'll show you my room" se-mi said, grabbing her hand while pulling her upstairs.

once they disappeared, i let out a furious scoff.

"seriously?"

"you know how she is; we don't even try anymore. she has more game than we do" thanos mumbled as he eliminated my brother from the game, celebrating on his face.

"don't start any-" nam-gyu said as i cut him.

"if i hear any moans, i swear to god-"

and of course, not even 20 minutes later, we could all hear the loud moans and screams coming out of se-mi's room.

i swear, fuck her.

i checked the time as i left my comfortable bed. i read the clock's display, 2:30 am.

i put on one of my brother's big shirts that i stole from him as i got downstairs to get a midnight snack and some water.

i turned on the kitchen lights to find se-mi, with a green shirt and some grey sweatpants leaned against the counter, hair on her face as she scrolled through her phone. she lifted her gaze, smirking when she found my face.

"apparently i can't even get some water without you being around" i mumbled, passing by her side and going straight to the fridge to grab the water bottle and a glass from the shelves as she chuckled.

"weird, because if i remember correctly, the last time we saw each other you were saying something entirely different."

i closed my eyes at the memories of last time in the cabin. a year ago, when she lifted me and took me upstairs to her room. her hands were in my hair while she kissed me. my lips red and swollen. her hands teasing my folds over-

i close the fridge as i straighten myself, looking at her.

"a mistake, remember?" i said, sarcastically smirking, quoting her words from last time.

"this-this was a mistake. if nam gyu finds out, we're both fucking dead. this never happened." she said, putting on her jeans and looking for her shirt.

i should've kept my mouth shut.

but the words slipped out as she kissed my neck, her fingers inside of me.

"i love you, se-mi"

i covered my naked body with a sheet, ashamed. "i'm in love with you" my stare lost in a blank point.

she stopped changing as she stared at me, her eyes wide.

"you don't. i'm just older than you and you think you're in love-"

"i know i am!" i shouted as she shushed me, getting close to me.

"you're not. and i definitely know i'm not. we know better. you like fucking around and i do too, that's all this was." she said, grabbing my face to meet hers. she scanned my watery eyes as she wiped the tears.

"we know better than to fall in love just because a night of good sex" she said

"and then i never saw you again after that. you suddenly were 'too busy hanging out' everytime i was in your house." she said. the memories hitting us both like a trainwreck.

"i didn't wanted to see your face again"

"i wanted to see yours" she said, slowly moving closer to me. her hands gripping my waist, holding me against the wall.

"why? to tell me once again how it was just one night of good sex and that's all?"

her eyes trailed all over my face, one of her hands left my waist to cup my face, her thumb gently caressing my cheek.

she sighed, pressing her forehead against mine.

"i'm so weak for you" she murmur, making me sigh.

"don't do this se-mi.." i closed my eyes as i felt my heart flutter.

as i open my mouth to speak again, a soft feminine voice interrumpted us from upstairs.

"se-mi? did you get the water? i'm thirsty"

of course. i should've seen it coming.

i scoffed as i pushed her off. she also seemed to regain consciousness as she quickly grabbed a glass of water and filled it up without saying a word. she stared at me with a hint of.. guilt? before making her way upstairs with the girl.

pretending to hate eachother was the healthiest thing we could've done.

i stopped partying every night once i hit 22, but sometimes, i missed it. mostly, my old version. the one who used to fuck around, who wasn't afraid, the life of the party and most importantly;

i miss the old me, who wasn't completely in love with se-mi.

so yeah, maybe i wasn't in my right mind when we started taking a few shots with the guys before the anual party they threw in the cabin everytime they did their summer trip.

and maybe i wasn't in my right mind when i called my ex fling to come to the party because well... what could go wrong?

i layed a few oufit options in my bed as i prepped the shower, feeling a bit tipsy as i choose the skirt and top that most went with my style.

i got out the shower, wrapping myself in a towel as i started applying my hair products. i felt the door open as se-mi walked in and closed it behind her.

"the guys want to know if you're done already because we want to start shower-" she stop mid-sentence, taking in my naked framed wrapped with just one towel.

her eyes lingered on me like a pervert, making me roll my eyes.

"yes, is that all?" i said, she roamed my body like she was trying to undress me.

she hummed while stepping closer to me, grabbing the little towel knot that stopped it from unwrapping me.

"you gonna get all dolled up for me?" she said, her other hand went to my hip.

"not for you" i slapped her hand as she chuckled. she grabbed me from my arm, pulling me against her.

"you're such a brat. bet you love knowing the effect you have on me hm?" her breath fanning against my neck made me shiver, she let out soft chuckle. "if my hand lowers a little more, i can even feel how soaked it makes you. isn't that right princess?" she said, placing a kiss on my neck, making me feel uneasy.

"you need my fingers? like last time?" she whispered on my ear, kissing and licking my neck as i tried to suppress a moan.

"why yours, if i could get more skillfulled ones?" i said, pushing her away. i grabbed my hairbrush to focus on something else as she scoffed at my statement.

"yeah? they have you clenching, dripping down your thighs like i did?"

"oh yes! i remember my last hookup, she had me begging for more. i even remember calling her dadd-" her hand quickly wrapped around my throat, my back against her chest.

she tightened her grip while choking me, making my cunt throb for more as she made me look at myself in the mirror.

"if i hear you say something like that again i swear-"

"se-mi? stop making my sister mad and come help with the drinks" nam-gyu's voice could be heard from downstairs, breaking the moment. she lose her grip and step away, shouting back. "coming!"

she turned around one more time before leaving my room.

"we're not done princess. if you wanna be a brat, you'll get punished like one"

i left my room with my makeup, hair and outfit done. i locked the door so one got in as i took a quick look at the house. it seemed pretty full even though the party was just getting started.

as i got downstairs, i could see my brother with thanos, min-su and se-mi with a girl on her lap. they were smoking and drinking on the couch.

"look who finally finished getting ready!" thanos said, whistling as he took a look at my outfit.

"that is so short" nam-gyu tried to pull my skirt down as i slapped his hand.

"stop it! i like it that way" i said.

se-mi's eyes didn't leave my body, not even as she squeezed the girl's waist tighter. her stare was glued on my thighs as the short skirt left little to the imagination. i could see her gaze darkening with desire. she hummed in agreement with nam-gyu.

se-mi lifted an eyebrow as a pair of arms wrapped around my waist. i turned around to see no-eul.

"look who's finally here! you invite me yet you don't even wait for me at the door, rude"

my ex.. fling? all the guys knew her. and se-mi did too, of course.

i leave a kiss on the corner of her mouth, as she said a quick hello to my friends. i dragged her to a corner more far away from se-mi and my brother as i heard the group laughing, all except for her.

i could feel her cold stare follow my moves as i headed to the kitchen with no-eul. i grabbed a bottle and poured a shot for her and another for me.

"so, what brings you back?" she said, her arms possesively going around my waist as i drank.

"nothing important, as always" i chuckled, staring at her. "happy to see me?" i said as she nods, cupping my face.

"always" her reply makes me smirk.

as she gets closer to place a kiss, i feel a soft push, breaking us from the moment.

"can i grab the bottle or?" a low voice said, making me face right just to meet se-mi's annoyed gaze.

i handle the bottle as she leans against the counter, staying right besides us.

"you look so pretty tonight" no-eul said as i could see se-mi rolling her eyes from the corner.

"yeah? all for you" i bit my lip as i slid her hand to guide her to my waist. i heard the brunette besides me mumbling something as she kept staring at us.

"you have a problem?" no-eul turned to face se-mi, with an annoyed expression.

se-mi drank a shot, her eyes taking my face.

"oh sorry, it's just that when i had her upstairs with my fingers wrapped around her throat, she didn't seemed to be 'all pretty just for you' " she snickered, making no-eul clench her jaw as she gazed at me.

"are you for real?"

"no! she's a fucking liar, wait-" i cupped her face as she got rid of my grip.

"i'll go get something to smoke, excuse me" she said, disappearing in the crowd.

i turned to se-mi as i punched her arm and she winced.

"you're a fucking jealous cunt and-"

"and you're making me go insane with that little skirt." she said, stopping my rant mid-sentence as i stared at her. "and if you don't stop flirting, i'll have to bend you over against this counter, move your pretty panties aside and insert two fingers on that pretty cunt so everyone can see who's the only one that can do it" she said, pressing our bodies together. she turned around to see if any of the guys could see or hear us, but they were too busy with some girls.

i stood there frozen.

fuck it.

i grabbed the nape of her neck, pulling her towards me, her lips meeting mine with a harsh and desesperate kiss. she quickly returned it.

after a few minutes she softly pushed me, grabbing my hand to drag us to the nereast bathroom. as we got in, she locked the door behind us.

she quickly pushed me against the door, grabbing my thighs to lift me up, making me wrap my legs around her as she kissed me for a second time tonight.

i grabbed her neck, making the kiss more intense. our tongues fought for dominance as we both moaned.

her lips broke with mine to deposit open-mouthed kisses on my neck, biting and licking as i leaned my head aside, giving her better access.

"w-wait se-mi" i said as she kept kissing me. "no, stop"

she stopped the kisses. her eyes were almost black from lust, her lips red and her face filled with a confused expression as she let me down on my feet again.

"i don't get it se-mi. 'this was a mistake', but your eyes want to undress me everytime we're together. and we 'can't date', but everytime i try to move on to forget about you, you're always there to make sure i don't" i raised my voice, that couldn't even be heard right because of the loud music coming from outside.

her hands rubbed her face in frustration as she took a deep breath. she grabbed my hand again, pulling me upstairs and leading into my room. she closed the door behind her as she turned to look at me.

"do you know what nam-gyu would say? he would kick my ass for dating his little sister, i can't do that to my best friend!"

"you can't do that to your best friend so you choose to break my heart instead?"

"that's never what i wanted!"

"well that's what you did when you left me naked in bed, crying my eyes out while you moved on, fucking any girl you could to forget about me because i know damn well you liked me too!" i said, almost screaming. my breathing getting heavier as i took a step towards her.

"doll, i can't-"

"if you can't, then stop messing with my life! if you don't want to date me because you're too afraid then let me fuck with whoever i want! i'm sick of you controlling every interaction i have with someone. either you decide to get serious with me or back off and leave me alone" i said, anger could be heard in every word i said.

she froze at my words. her eyes widen and her lip trembled.

"i guess you're right" she stepped away from me, turning to leave. "i don't deserve you. i- i know you'll find someone better to fall in love with." she said, watching my teary eyes as she left my room, closing the door behind her as i finally let my tears fall.

i lowered my shoulders as i sat in bed, letting out a choked sob. i felt so...pathetic.

i stared at the ceiling for 5 minutes, cursing her in every language i knew while i kept crying.

suddenly, i felt the doorknob moving as the door opened.

and there she was, standing there. she bit her lip piercing as she re-entered my room, closing the door and leaning against it while she stared at me. my eyes wide as i open my mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

"i know i don't deserve you but.. i'd rather change to be the person you need than letting you go with someone else." she came towards me, her hands cupping my face. "i'll be damned if i see anyone laying their hands on my girl." she said, smashing her lips against mine as i moaned in surprise.

she was leaning since i was in bed, so i grabbed her shirt and pulled her, making her fall on top of me. our lips never breaking the kiss.

i sneaked my arms around her neck, pulling her deeper as she bite my lower lip, making me whimper.

"my pretty girl" she said as her knee got in between my legs, pressing against my center, making me whimper. "i'm keeping that skirt i swear to god. you're such a tease. i wanted to lift it and fuck you right there and then"

"w-wore it just for you, daddy" i hiccuped as her knee made my clit twitch and my cunt throb.

she let out a low groan as she heard my words. her hand wrapped around my throat, leaving me with little to no air as her tongue entered my mouth.

"did anyone ever fucked you the way i did baby? did anyone ever made you squirt like i did that night?" she said, breaking the kiss with a possessive tone as her grip tightened.

i shook my head no, my brain feeling fuzzy from lust and desire.

she lifted my skirt, giving a harsh slap at my pussy, making me let out a choked moan.

"use your words like the big girl you are" she said in a low tone.

"no one e-ever touched me like you did"

her hands roamed through my body, harshly pulling down my top, letting my tits out as i didn't had a bra on. she took one nipple on her mouth, while her hand sneaked to my covered cunt, softly spreading with her fingers the wet patch that formed in my panties, pressing at my clit. i couldn't stop moaning from the sensation.

she separated her mouth of my tits with a loud 'pop'. her fingers pushed my thong aside, spreading the wetness all over my cunt and using it as lube to get two fingers inside of me as her other hand left my throat and flew to my mouth.

"sh, sh, we don't want anyone hearing those pretty moans" she cooed, making my eyes watery from pleasure as her fingers thrusted harsh and quick inside of me.

she lowered to get her face in between my legs, one hand holding my panties aside as the other one kept thrusting. she spit on my cunt, spreading the glob with her tongue around my aching clit.

i chanted her name as her fingers hit the spongy spot inside of me, making my walls clench around her as she moaned, making vibrations hit my clit. my eyes rolled back as i gripped the bedsheets.

as she felt me getting closer and closer, her fingers suddenly left my inside, making me sob.

she moved me around to place me in all fours and slowly began to remove my damp panties. the sight from my mirror was pornographic. the mascara tears running down my cheeks, my tits hanging from the top, my panties now pooled around my knees as the skirt revealed my drooling pussy underneath it.

se-mi gave a few harsh slaps, spanking me. the red print of her hand on my ass felt warm. her fingers gathered my slickness as i felt her breath against me. she licked a fat strip of my pussy from behind, making me moan loudly.

"such a whore. you were this desesperate for me to fuck you again?" she said teasingly as i nodded. "my needy girl"

"please, please daddy" i sobbed as i felt her fingers tease my entrance. my cunt clenching around nothing, waiting for her.

she hummed as her two fingers entered inside of me again, making me whimper as a few tears slipped.

"so pretty on your knees. just for me"

she trusted ruthless as my hand sneaked to circle my clit, clenching around her.

all i could heard was the music downstairs and the wet squelching sounds my cunt made, all wet for her. i couldn't stop moaning louder and louder everytime she hit that spot.

"f-fuck. gonna. cum" i whimpered as the circles on my clit got sloppier and her moves got deeper and quicker. "daddy- i'm gonna squirt all your fingers" i said as she moaned, her fingers going at a faster pace at my words.

while she kept fucking me, her other hand went to my hair, pulling it as she gave one more thrust. the tingle from the harsh pain and her fingers inside made the heat on my lower tummy snap as i could feel myself squirting all over her fingers, wetting the sheets underneath as my body collapsed in bed.

her thrusts got slower until they stopped completely. she removed her fingers from inside of me and placed them on my mouth as i licked them clean with my tongue. she bite her lip and kissed me one last time before getting up.

she came back with a small towel to clean me and then got rid of her clothes, laying besides me.

she hugged me as my head positioned on her chest.

"there wasn't a time in where i wasn't in love with you" she whispered. it felt so intimate, only for me to hear.

"when we were younger, when you got mad at me, the first time we kiss, when we hooked up, i was always head over heels for you, princess". she said. her hand softly caressing my hair, making my eyes close. "i kept trying to forget about you all the time but the feelings were always there, reminding me that i'll never stop loving you. and if, us being together, means we'll have to tell your annoying brother who will probably murder me after, i'll still do it for you"

i smiled and softly chuckled. my heart fluttering from happiness, and god, butterflies were small in comparison to what she made me feel.

"i never stopped loving you either" i replied, feeling a kiss on my temple.

and this time felt different. the cold feeling i had before, when she left me alone in bed, was no longer there.

it felt warm now, with her body besides mine, her love-filled gaze. i knew this time was going to be different.

[samgirl98]

Forgotten Demon Twin 12/?

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This is a slower chapter, but it had to be written before the fun begins. Anyway, I hope you still like!

“Who are you,” Bruce growled. There was no way this was Alfred. He had almost been tricked by the Devil Nezha once before; he wouldn’t be fooled this time, either.

‘Alfred’ raised his eyebrow in a way the real Alfred would. It had Bruce’s heart grieving.

“Did you think death could fire me, Master Bruce?”

Bruce glowered at the…apparition.

“You’re not Alfred. Alfred is dead. Someone has already tried tricking me before using his visage. I won’t be tricked this time, either.”

“Master Bruce, you’re in a town where ghosts attack frequently, and you doubt I could manifest after spending time here?”

“Alfred is dead,” he repeated.

“I never claimed to be alive.”

Bruce said nothing and stared out the window. The apparition was still driving and heading in the right direction.

Alfred sighed and rattled off a string of numbers and letters. Bruce felt his hope and heartbeat pick up. No one but Alfred knew that code. It had never been written down, and they had come up with it when Bruce was a child.

“Alfie,” he asked, “are you really here?”

“Who said I left? I couldn’t leave my boy and his children behind.”

Bruce felt his eyes prickle with unshed tears. The man who was like a father was back again. Bruce knew he should be more cautious, but he knew deep down that this was Alfred.

“Alfred, I have no idea what to do,” Bruce couldn’t help but put his problems at Alfred’s feet again. It wasn’t fair to do that to the older man, but Bruce couldn’t help but fall on old habits.

The car stopped.

“Why don’t you start by talking with Master Danny and his parents? That had always been your problem, Bruce. You keep everything inside. Let others help you, and don’t be afraid to speak your worries and emotions. Your son has been through a lot. Tell him you’ll be there for him, but don’t force things. He’s not Damian. He’s his own person.”

Bruce looked out the window and saw the monstrosity that was the Fenton’s home. He turned to look at the driver’s seat, but Alfred was gone. Even so, Bruce felt the older man’s presence.

“Thank you, Alfred.”

“It’s my pleasure, Master Bruce.”

____

Maddie ignored the knock on the door; she was too busy running her hand through her precious boy’s hair.

Danny was still unconscious but breathing.

Maddie had texted Jazz to come home ASAP.  

Jazz, who always defended Phantom. Jazz who had ripped Maddie and Jack new ones for hurting ghosts, especially Phantom. Jazz, who had to have known.

How could Maddie not have known? What kind of mother was she?

Bruce Wayne entered the living room. Bruce Wayne who wanted to take her child away; Bruce Wayne who had to have known about Danny, too. Did everyone but them knew? Maddie tightened her hold on Danny. She would fight anyone for her children. She wouldn’t let Wayne bully her into giving up her son.

“Mr. and Mrs. Fenton,” Wayne greeted them.

“You knew,” Jack’s usually boisterous voice was subdued. “You got here a few days ago, and you already knew. How?”

“Yes, I knew about Danny being Phantom. He told us the first day we got here.”

Maddie’s stomach dropped. Danny told virtual strangers about him…about his powers before he told his parents. Were they that bad?

Who was she kidding? Jack and she talked about destroying ghosts—‘molecule by molecule.’ Why wouldn’t Danny be scared to tell them anything?

“That’s not the whole truth, now is it, Mr. Wayne?”

Maddie looked up and saw Jazz watching them all with shrewd eyes.

“Danny didn’t tell you anything. He accidentally transformed in front of you guys after you lured him away from home.”

“What,” Maddie asked in a flat voice. Her hand went to one of her hidden weapons—her boo-staff. She would do anything to protect her children, and if that meant attacking the wealthiest man in the country, then she would do so. Consequences be damned. From her peripheral vision, Maddie saw Jack tense, ready to attack.

Dick and Damian went to stand by Wayne’s side, ready to fight. Seeing Damian, who looked so much like Danny, made both Fentons pause.

Wayne put his hands up, “Let’s all take a deep breath and calm down. I’m glad to answer all your questions as well as I can, but let’s not turn this into a fight.”

“Why did you lure my son out of his house,” Jack asked, angry, “I have to assume this was before you talked to us.”

Jazz ignored the tension between the two families and sat by Maddie. She then took out a needle containing green goo—ectoplasm—and poised it over Danny’s arm.

“This will help him heal quicker,” she whispered to Maddie. Maddie said nothing but gave a nod. Jazz injected the needle, and Danny’s wounds started to heal visually. The knot in Maddie’s chest started to unravel as she saw Danny’s wounds turn purple, then green, and then yellow before disappearing. He even stirred a little.

“That’s my fault,” Damian said, bringing Maddie back to the present, “I came to Danyal and asked him to follow me so he could meet father and our siblings. I was…eager to reunite with my brother. I didn’t think about the consequences.”

Dick put an arm around Damian. Maddie suspected it was for more than just moral support.

Maddie frowned and looked at Wayne.

“And you just allowed it? You didn’t think it would be better to stop your son and call us the next day?”

Wayne gave a nod of acknowledgment.

“I apologize, you are right. I should’ve stopped Damian and come to you two directly. I was too eager to meet my son after finding out about him, I didn’t think.”

“Do you still plan on taking Danny away from us,” Jack asked.

“That wasn’t ever the plan,” Wayne said.

“But,” Damian started. He stopped when Wayne gave him a look, “Tt.”

“I wanted to prove Danny was mine by blood and hopefully get to know each other. I never intended to rip you away from your son. I wanted to get to know him and build a connection.”

Maddie and Jack looked at each other.

“Sit,” Jack said before walking toward his family, “I think it’s time we cleared the air.

Wayne and his children sat on the other couch. The two families looked at each other, unsure of where to start.

Maddie cleared her throat.

“I know you discovered Danny was Phantom before us, but why aren’t you more shocked? I would’ve thought you finding out that your son was a superhero would’ve been a way for you to take him away from us.”

“Mrs. Fenton, I’m from Gotham. I’ve been saved by vigilante children before; superhero children is not such a farfetched idea to me.”

“Still, child superheroes are one thing. Your son being one is another.”

“You probably know I fund the Justice League; it’s an open secret. Superheroes aren’t a new thing for me.”

Maddie felt her anger rise. She was trying to have a polite conversation with the man, but he deflected and did not give her a straight answer. Jack frowned and crossed his arms.

“Mr. Wayne, we can be a bit dense sometimes, but this is not how a parent would react to their child being a hero. Stop making excuses about superhero children and funding the Justice League and tell us the truth,” Maddie demanded.

Dick and Damian looked at Wayne. Wayne kept his face blank, but Maddie knew it was a façade. The two families were in a stalemate, unsure how to continue.

Suddenly, Jazz sighed and got up.

“This is ridiculous. We won’t get anywhere if we don’t talk this out, but we also have to think about Danny. Mom, dad, let’s let Danny wake up first so he can participate in the conversation. Mr. Wayne, Dick, Damian, why don’t we go to the kitchen, and I’ll make you a cup of coffee or tea.”

“Jazz,” Jack started.

She put up her hand, “Don’t worry. Stay here and process what you just found out. Be there for Danny when he wakes up and I’ll take care of our guests. Besides, we really shouldn’t have this talk without Danny.”

Maddie gave a weak smile, “Jazz, my ever-sensible girl. Fine, we’ll be here if you need anything.”

Jazz smiled, “I know.”

She disappeared into the kitchen, and soon, the Waynes followed her. Jack sat by Maddie and held her hand.

They would wait for their baby boy to wake up, then…then…well, then they would figure it out.

[pumpkinsy0]

Can I get more Darry and pony I cannot live without they and you have the best headcannons

darry and pony heyyyyyyyy hiiiiiiiiii❤️

•darrys always usually asking what he wants for dinner, sometimes he asks johnny but mostly pony. ponys a bit of a picky eater at times and he knows that the gang would rlly eat whatever he makes, its better than nothing

•darrys the one who taught pony not to b embarrassed of his name!! pony went to soda about it first but the only reason y ppl do is literally only bc sodas seen as VERY cute, that “just ignore them” advice wasnt gonna cut it for pony. darry however gave him actual advice and taught him to b pretty proud of his name, soda just makes him feel less alone about having a “weird name”

•pony and darry dont look like brothers at ALL, like if u look at darry and soda then pony and soda youd think “yeaaaa alright its not clear but im squinting and totally see it now”, darry and pony however???? dont look related at all, theyve been told that so many times atp they just stand there awkwardly going “yea haha guess so”, but if u see their mannerisms, its toootttalllyyyy obvious, especially when theyre nervous

•the dog that the curtis’ had was technically rlly darrys dog, darry just asked pony if he could ask their parents to keep em bc he knew they would say yes to him w little hesitation, he woulda told soda to do it but soda ran out his yes’ from them for the month, he was a needy ass kid😭😭

•ponys a lil beefy bc sometimes he drinks some of darrys shakes, EVERYONE else says its grows but something about it is rlly good to pony, he has no shame about it and darrys noticed ponys (growing) muscles. everytime darry brings it up pony gets a boost in confidence

•when i think about darry going to college after years and graduating , i think about pony being the ones to take the pics and b smiling hard for darrys achievement, just like darry was for ponys hs and college graduation, doesnt matter how grown darry is pony is like a proud mother of 1 on that day

•darry has not problem carrying pony out the car when hes passed out, but sometimes hes accidentally hit ponys head on the door frame or just straight up almost tripped, so unless ponys knocked completely out, hes just on alert till darry sets him down somewhere (but to b fair when it comes to him tripping its bc someone left an object on the ground that should nottttt b there)

•pony WOULD defend darry if someone called him stupid like some do w soda for not graduating hs, but look, darry can defend himself just fine, nobodys ever gonna calling him that to his face, (minus steve lmao) even if they want to, they know theyd b lying, so darrys doin just fine in that regard, he doesnt need anyones defense

•darrys kissed pony on the forehead numerous times right before he went to work and pony was asleep, ponys kissed darrys one time while he thought he was asleep, darry was awake for that one, his eyes were just closed. hes never told pony that bit tho

•ok look most of darrys reputation in hs he got just by being himself and his popularity was by complete accident, BUT a part of y he played into it more was for the sake of pony and soda, MOSTLY pony bc sodas rep was already rlly good, but he did it to set them up to get some respect for association of being related to him

•ponys massages arent even bad, to darry its more ticklish than anything and he hatttteesssss being tickled so thats y he doesnt like it

•if darry was the actual role of ponys brother and not guardian, he wouldve just given pony his old school work to copy off of instead of just helping him to find out the answers on his own

[currentfandomkick]

Ridiculous idea below:

Duke can admit to feeling bad about Danny being left with the zombies that everyone became during an Arkham breakout. He didn’t mind hanging out with him when he had the time, but he does have the day shift and is the only one with it.

The visit was pretty random, and no one really was focusing on a ‘why’ Bruce’s cousin Jack sent his son there, or why the kid had asked to go.

Because Danny didn’t care for the rich part. Boy was working poor through and through and winced when prices were mentioned. Duke understood, as did Jason.

He did note that Jason and Danny had some weird tension between them, but that wasn’t his business.

And Danny didn’t care for Gotham. When Duke asked why he came for a visit, Danny had mentioned his sister wanting him to have more family, but Jazz hadn’t come along to bond with them too.

Duke had most of his initial theories scorched as why this random relative may be visiting, and one of the looser idea confirmed on day ten.

“Fuck me this shit never comes out.”

Duke opened Danny’s door without thinking.

Danny was bleeding green. Neon green from his hand. There was red in there too. But a lot of green.

“Fuck me—Alfred shouldn’t have to put up with this crap.”

“Danny,” Duke began slowly, closing the door behind him.

Things were making sense. When they first met Danny had been a bit spooked about the question about the scar on his arm and up his neck. The others said there wasn’t one, and Duke dropped it. His future sight was acting up pr something about a possible future.

It wasn’t the future. Past event. One that made Danny meta.

Did his parents know? Was this them brushing it under the rug, planning to cut off support? Or was Jazz predicting that option and sent Danny to them as a possible safetynet for him?

Danny winced, deer in headlights and shoved his comforter and hand behind him.

“Heeeey Duke, how was your shift?”

“It was okay, you need any help with the paper cut and stain?”

Danny was twitchy now. Probably hadnt planned on telling them. Made sense—Duke knows he’s the only one Danny hung out with since coming here.

“Uh, it, it doesn’t come out. And i have to use the Fenton Fishing Line or else the bandages dissolve.”

Duke nodded along, slowly grabbing his phone and put it on speaker.

“Hey Alfred, can you help me stitch up Danny? He’s like me but different meta gene expression.”

“Right away Master Duke.”

“Thanks Alfred.”

Danny looked cornered, but Duke pulled him to the bed and sat him down. “Hey, its okay. Bruce has seen me accidentally flashbang the house because i was half awake and spooked when one of them showed up over my shoulder? Most he’ll do is get help for controlling any secondary abilities you have and accommodating it with medical BS from the family doctor. He’s cool. You’re safe.”

Danny was clearly shutting down. Fear response or overwhelmed—signs of quiet panic attack. Shit.

“Just breathe with me, okay? In two three hold two three out two three.”

Duke stayed with Danny as they kept on going. He knew telling Bruce was important, but that’s not what Danny needed.

“Some of the family was there when my powers started up. They are cool with it—even the weird vision thing i have. I’m going to guess that scar on your arm isn’t visible to you?”

“…not if i don’t transform.”

Duke nodded at that, glancing over at Alfred as he came in and assessed the situation.

“Master Danny, may I see the wound?”

“Just wear heavy duty gloves… my blood can uh, dissolve things depending on what i eat and i was not tracking my acid intake.”

“Very well. Does this happen often?”

“No, cardboard got me when i was opening a package. Friend sent me a care package.”

Alfred hummed, taking the spool of fishing line and threading it before he began to stitch up the side of Danny’s finger.

“That is very thoughtful of them.”

“Yeah, Sam and Tucker sent me some things i kind of need—less uh, ectoplasm in the air that i can process than expected.”

“That you can process Master Danny?” Alfred prodded carefully.

Danny looked to Duke.

Duke nodded.

“I sort of hadn’t run into corrupted ecto before and uh, purifying it is harder than i thought. So my friends sent some that i can take without my stomach eating itself or my blood canibalizing itself and my organs start shutting down.”

Duke’s stomach clenched at the thought.

“Which is, not good. I can make a purifier but i needed them to send parts and ecto until then. I can usually make my own but uh, not able to now for reasons.”

Duke nodded along. “Like make like cookies or make like vitamin d?”

“Vitamin D. Its uh, complicated. Either be around my friends or stargazing does the trick. Sometimes being with my parents or helping the ghosts back home does it too.”

Duke catalogued the ‘ghosts’ part for a later date.

“Anything else you may need while here?”

“…do you have heating blankets? Sometimes my abilities go real icy and i stop producing heat and ice over. I only overheated one time after getting hit with a lot of lightning and no way to cool down.”

The Nappers

Dpxdc Prompt #10

Danny was really excited to spend the summer with his second cousin(?) he didn't really remember, but apparently Jack Fenton's cousin was Gotham billionaire Bruce Wayne, a serial adopter.

Jazz had discovered the connection and gave him a call to see if he'd mind Danny staying over for summer because Danny decided he was going to tell his parents at the end of summer about his ghost problem, and Jazz wanted him to have a safety net.

He didn't really have a big family at home, with his parents being largely... absent and Jazz moving to Gotham for college. It would be great to be in a house that wasn't empty again.

Now if only his newly discovered family could stay awake long enough for Danny to talk to them.

"So how's living with our cousins?" Jazz asked him through his Fenton-phone. He flopped onto his bed and groaned.

"They're all seem nice but I haven't really seen enough of them to know yet."

"Danny, you've already been there a week, shouldn't you know them at least a little bit? You usually warm up to people quickly, as long as they aren't trying to kill you."

"Man I kinda wish they were out to get me, then I'd probably see more of them than I have already."

"..."

"..."

"Okay Danny walk me through our family, and what you know so far about them."

"Well first there's Dick, he apparently lives in Bludhaven and supposedly comes back to Gotham to visit fairly often, haven't seen any of him yet though."

"Then there's Jason, I've seen him come over after dinner a couple of times, but he's seemed in a really bad mood and I'm getting weird vibes from him so I haven't talked to him much yet either."

"Cass, Steph, Tim, Damian, and Bruce are the ones that actually live here at the manor and outside of when I first arrived I haven't actually seen them awake enough to talk to me. Anytime I've caught a glimpse of them they're taking naps and I'd feel bad waking them up, Tim especially (he looks like he needs the rest)."

"What are they, nocturnal or something?

"That's what I thought too! But the Manor is even more dead during the night than the day. If I had wanted to live with a bunch of zombies I'd have spent summer in the zone, not come all the way here."

"The only people that have stayed awake long enough for me to actually get to know them are Duke and Alfred! Duke's great, but he seems to have a day job so I only see him for breakfast and dinner and any time I can catch him before he sleeps after. Alfred's amazing, but he already has so much to do around the Manor, I feel bad bothering him."

"It is only the first week you're there, and there was a huge Arkham breakout your first day so everybody around Gotham is a bit tense while the Bats are trying to recatch everyone. Could you give it another week for me? See if it'll be an option for if our parents react badly?"

"For you, Jazz, I'll give it another week, but I can't just trade one empty house for another."

"Thanks, little brother."

"Love you, Jazz, bye."

Danny hung up the phone and sighed, he new there was something off with his cousins, but he couldn't quite place it. Constantly napping, disappearing during the nights, but always on guard when they were awake.

He had a week to figure it out, but if he didn't there'd be no real lost love. He'd come up with some excuse, stay with Jazz for the summer or something. If his parents reacted badly and he didn't have this safety net, it'd be difficult sure, but Danny and Jazz would figure it out.

Danny thought it would be nice to have some other family that had his back for once, but hey, maybe he just had shitty luck when it came to blood relations.

[chimivx]

gimme gimme gimme 2 -> mingi x fem!reader -> nice for what

wc: 6.7k warnings: 18+, sexual content and alcohol consumption in every part, infidelity themes... if i missed anything please let me know! posted: 1/12/25 8;54 pm est.

masterlist ~ <- previous part - next part ->

Standing three stories tall and taking up more space on the property than the ATZ house, your residence for the next month gagged everyone but yourself when you arrived, when you stepped inside. Noses pointed in the air as they all got out of the cars, gawking up at the house sprinkled in tiny hints of daylight as the sun rose from the beach behind it, you reveled in the compliments, in the praises of what a good job you had done picking it out, making sure everyone would be happy for the next thirty days.

It was a house your parents dreamed of their entire lives but had never been able to make happen, all of their beach house money going to your sister and the dreams she was chasing across the country, auditioning for movie after movie, show after show. At least they handed you enough to make this month happen, and then some. Your father was a sucker. As much as their attention was on your sister and her dreams, your father made up for it in cash, depositing wild amounts of it into your accounts monthly. This vacation had been mentioned once and within minutes of clinking martini glasses with him, a large deposit hit your savings and you booked this house that everyone fell in love with upon one glance. 

An open floor plan on the first floor, a generous kitchen, a cozy living room adjacent to a gaming space, full of old arcade games, a ping pong table, air hockey and more. Everything lightly colored screamed you’re at the beach! and it brought pure joy. The almost white wood of the floor, the pastel blue of the furniture, the pale finishes of the furniture, the make up was stunning, chic, and fed your soul more than you thought it would.

Just stepping inside filled you with ease. A calmness washing over you, almost like the atmosphere had reached into your head and turned everything off.

Two bedrooms on the second floor, one for Seonghwa and the other for Soul, were positioned on either end of the house with a bar space between them, low hanging dim lit chandeliers living over the bar and the lounge chairs strategically placed throughout it. Three bedrooms were on the third floor, the space primarily for them alone, tightly spaced together. Wooyoung and Aurora took the one on the far end of the hall while you and Mingi took the one closest to the stairs and farthest from their room. The one in between stayed empty, and for good reason.

The boys brought in your luggage for you, carrying it up the stairs while you and Aurora wandered around the home in awe. What was beautiful and perfectly on brand for you was completely new to her, a detail you never let go untouched, unnoticed. She got to experience these things with you, with her sisters in ITZ. Her family didn’t take vacations every summer, they didn’t visit places like Haos or stay in homes like this one. She was lucky to even be able to go to Nasara. It’s why you didn’t mind letting her stay here without chipping in, though you knew she’d be throwing down her credit card as much as she possibly could when you’d go out.

Before she ventured to bed she hugged you, one long and tight, with a billion whispered thank you’s before the two of you never spoke of it again. It wasn’t something she dwelled on, it was something that made her clam up, so you allowed her to mention it once, and didn’t beg her for more.

Joining Mingi upstairs, following him up with the last of your bags after wandering around a while longer with everyone, buzzing about what a month you were going to have, you watched Aurora follow Soul into his room, Wooyoung not thinking twice about it. He simply followed you and Mingi up to the third floor, bidding you goodnight before disappearing behind his door. Seonghwa didn’t even spare an extra glance toward the scene, making you wonder if he noticed, or if he hadn’t any clue at all. He hadn’t been around for the moment at the party, where you let everyone know that the three of them were sleeping together. 

You’d discuss tomorrow.

Or, you wouldn’t… And would let the situation go on without tampering with it again.

Shutting the door to your room, pressing your back up against it, you watched Mingi push the luggage into a corner and get himself ready for bed, flopping onto the king sized mattress with a groan, rolling onto his back, extending an arm out at his side for you to fall into.

Raising a brow, you stayed where you were at the door. “What did Wooyoung want to talk to you about?”

Mingi tilted his head and sighed. “Yunho.”

Eyes bugging out of your head you hurried for the bed and leapt onto it, falling into his open arm. He smiled, holding you close. “What about Yunho? Aurora? You?”

“Everything in general,” he said. “He was just checking in. He really is a good friend.”

That was something you should be doing with your own boyfriend. That was something you should be doing with everybody actually, but you couldn’t stomach it.

“Right,” you whispered, eyes falling to the white bedspread beneath you and Mingi’s outstretched legs nearly reaching the edge of the mattress. “He is, I guess.”

“You guess?” 

Giving him a look and a shrug, you said, “I haven’t really talked to him, he’s preoccupied.”

Lowering his brows, he gave you a smile. “Right,” he breathed through a laugh. “He definitely doesn’t have time for anything else outside of his relationship, ‘cause he’s the type of guy to do that.” Scoffing, you pushed yourself off of him and rolled off the bed onto your feet. “Tor, come back,” he groaned.

“No,” you said, starting for the bathroom on the other side of the bedroom. “I need to get ready for bed. Go to sleep.”

Pulling off his glasses, laying his phone on the bed beside him, Mingi watched you until the door was shut. Inside, you flicked on the light and rested your elbows on the edge of the porcelain of the sink. Rubbing your fingers over your eyes, colors appearing as you vigorously brushed over your lashes, you dropped your hands, staring at yourself in the mirror. Sleepy hooded eyes stared back.

You moved to the bags Mingi had laid over the shelves on the wall, just below a long bay window who’s curtains were drawn for the time being. Tomorrow morning you’d pull them open and let the sunshine in, but for now they stayed closed. The neighbors didn’t need a show.

Pulling out a bottle of micellar water, cotton pads, various face washes, everything you needed to brush your teeth, and face masks, you moved through your routine swiftly, letting the muscle memory take over and your active brain take a rest. It was something you were typically good at, not letting the little shit get to you, linger with you. In moments like this one, moments just for you, when you were alone, it came easy. No show or act to uphold, no one to perform for, no need to be on.

Somehow it made everything much heavier.

Every little thing grew tenfold- has been growing tenfold. All the tiny moments of saying the wrong thing, letting your feelings get the best of you, not thinking before you spoke on something. It all haunted you, stood over your shoulder, clung to your back, gum on the bottom of your shoe you couldn’t get rid of.

You made it to your moisturizer before you realized you were crying, tears welling up and blurring your vision until you couldn’t see yourself in the mirror any longer. 

Aurora was here, in the house, you could go find her, talk to her.

Mingi laid right outside in bed, you could go to him, talk to him.

But, none of it made sense.

If you couldn’t even put into words what you were feeling, how was anyone else supposed to help? Or even understand?

Wiping beneath your eyes, steadying your breath before you let out a cry that Mingi could hear, you calmed yourself. The last thing you needed was him questioning you.

From the counter beside the sink your phone vibrated. Grabbing it with a sniffle and an internal groan, you unlocked it with a few taps and craned your neck to take a peek. Knowing who was awake at this hour, you weren’t looking forward to this.

[Unknown Number]: u in haos

Scrunching your nose, your entire face scrunching with it, you picked up your phone and typed back.

[you]: who the hell is this

They answered back instantly.

[Unknown Number]: dont worry abt it

[Unknown Number]: little birdie told me u were here. so am i

[you]: how’d you get my number. who are you.

[Unknown Number]: u will find out soon enough tori

[Unknown Number]: see u soon ;)

[you]: tell me who u are or i’m blocking this number, fucking creep

[Unknown Number]: hm no i dont think u would do that

[Unknown Number]: ur curiosity overwhelms u

[Unknown Number]: i always see it in ur eyes

[Unknown Number]: the what if

[you]: maximum fucking creep, ur blocked, bye

[Unknown Number]: but then how will i talk to u around the boyfriend

What the fuck?! You typed back, then deleted it. You typed again, then deleted it. You couldn’t do anything but stare at the screen, and you did, for many minutes, rereading the conversation.

Leaving the bathroom, locking your phone, you found Mingi absolutely knocked out, tucked onto his side of the bed. The lights were out, leaving you to shuffle through the darkness, changing into something you didn’t wear to the airport. Rolling onto the bed beside him, ample space between the two of you, you watched him sleep for a second. The rise and fall of his chest, the way his body laid completely still, a bit tense beneath the covers, the white sheets. He wasn’t asleep. When he slept he sprawled himself out over the mattress, his large frame taking up most of the space. He’d breathe heavily, and he’d be completely relaxed.

Tempted to reach over and turn him over, have him hold you while you moved beneath the covers, you decided to leave him be. You did snap at him before you left him here. In fact, you’d been snapping at him all day, aside from the half hour spent at his house. 

He was over it. At least for today. And you didn’t blame him.

Settling yourself over the pillows, laying backward, stretching out your legs under the softest sheets you’ve ever slept in, you took a deep breath and let your eyes close.

Tomorrow would be better.

The house was alive, because of course the fuck it was. Rolling over to an empty bed, tossed back sheets, you reached for your phone and tapped the screen.

2:55 pm.

Strange of Mingi to not wake you up when he did. Usually there’d be a kiss, or a head scratch, or he’d lay you out and take you half asleep knowing that you’d take him later whenever it pleased you. He left without any of it, not that it surprised you after how the two of you fell asleep last night. Countless times you woke up, tossing and turning without one of his arms wrapped around you to soothe you back to sleep. Even opening your eyes to you half wrapped around him had you retreating back to your side of the bed.

It took you back to the weeks you spent with him and his family over winter break, when Aurora was wrapped around two of them, you barely had your one on you.

You’d turned into one of those couples who seemed to tolerate one another, the honeymoon phase coming to a plummeting end faster than you’d expected it to.

Music thumped from the first floor. Voices carried up the stairwells and in through the cracks on the door, shouts from the boys and laughter from Aurora, someone’s deep voice trying to sing along to the words dancing between the steady beat. Seonghwa, without a doubt.

Kicking the sheets off you roll over the edge of the bed and catch yourself on your feet. Stepping about the room reluctantly, stripping yourself of the clothes you wore to bed, you rifled through a suitcase and pulled out a black bikini, one Mingi approved of last summer. He approved so hard you couldn’t wear it around him if you were with other people, and not because he didn’t want others to see you in it.

He should be up here to help you into it, maybe fall back into the sheets with you to pull it off of you, then help you back into it if he didn’t make a mess in it first. Like he made a mess in you yesterday. One you couldn’t reciprocate.

Biting down on your bottom lip to keep tears from slipping down your cheeks, you hurried to the bathroom, fixed your chestnut layers into a ponytail and washed your face. Glass hits the floor downstairs as you wash away bubbles and twist off the water.

“If everyone is drunk, I swear to God,” you muttered with a groan. Dabbing your face dry, you inspect your appearance, decide on no make up, twist your earrings around in your ears, and take yourself downstairs.

Bare foot, trying not to race down the stairs, the music called to you, pulled you in, like it would in the frat house. The music went on, drinks were handed out, and problems were forgotten. As much as it sucked to be the last one up, the last one to the party, a drink or three wouldn’t hurt. If anything, it would help.

Isla would slap you across the face if she were here.

Passing by closed bedroom doors and the untouched bar on the second floor, you contemplated taking a shot from a liquor bottle on a shelf, but kept moving. Sunshine leaked through the windows, you needed to be on a beach. The song changed to another you’ve heard before, one of the guys had on their party playlist. You didn’t have the sets memorized, the songs came out shuffled, but each one brought back such vivid memories it nearly cured everything you’d been feeling.

That was until you descended down the last flight of stairs and found the kitchen a mess, Seonghwa cooking something on the stove, opened empty cans littering every surface, Mingi leaning across a counter with a dopey smile on his face, Aurora straddling Wooyoung’s lap at the kitchen table, and Soul bouncing around with a broken bottle in his hand throwing away glass. Every boy was shirtless, except for Soul, and like you, everyone was ready for the beach.

“There she is,” Mingi cheered, the first to catch a glimpse of you. Turning around completely, flashing you his bare, sculpted chest, he met you halfway, throwing an arm around your shoulder as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. 

“You didn’t wake me up,” you said, looking up at him.

Giving you a lazy smile he said, “You were out, and tired. We’re on vacation, why would I want to wake you up?”

“So we could spend time together,” you almost whispered, and his smile faltered. 

Pulling you into his chest, skin on skin, so he could kiss you for real, he took his hands to your cheeks and brushed his thumbs along your bottom lashes. “Okay,” he breathed. “From now on I’ll wake you up. No matter what.” His lips met the center of your forehead, and just before he let go of you, Aurora shouted for you.

“My turn,” she teased, leaning backward onto the kitchen table, her elbows on the edge. She almost matched you, except her bathing suit was a deep purple and almost hooked over her hips where yours lived as low as possible, something Mingi took note of before you walked away from him. One of his fingers hooked into the strap, snapping it against your tan skin with a smirk as you shot him a look over your shoulder. “Hi, Tor!”

“Hi Ror,” you said, sparing a glance at Wooyoung clearly several drinks deep with how he ogled Aurora and had his own fingers twisted around the ties on her hips. “I need to catch up,” you sighed, looking around for a bottle, or a shot glass, or anything. 

“Shots, let’s do ‘em,” Aurora said, attempting to slide off of Wooyoung’s lap. His arms wrapped around her waist faster than she could move, his devilish smile peeking out as the chair pushed further beneath the table forcing their bodies together.

“No, no, no,” he mumbled to her, drinking up her giggles. Grabbing onto her, hands pressed to her any which way he could have them, he laid sloppy kisses on her cheek and down her jaw, mumbling things to her amidst her giggles that you couldn’t make out.

Turning from them with an eye roll you bump into Soul, bright eyed and half smiling where he stood offering you a bottle of Soju and a little crystal shot glass. Adorable, really. Tousled, frizzy blonde hair that desperately needed to be cut, dark, shining eyes, pouty pink lips. Any moment caught face to face with him put everything into perspective, you got it. You understood why. Without even trying he most likely could have you on your knees, it didn’t take a genius to figure out why Aurora was doing what she was doing. 

He didn’t say a word, he wasn’t much of a chatter, only when provoked, or drunk, or if he was on Aurora’s hip like a toddler, or a shadow behind Wooyoung. Taking the shot glass from him, his soft fingers brushing over your own, his smile deepened as he looked down to the glass and filled it to the brim. Watching him, this kid who got wrapped up in the shitstorm that was your junior year, this boy who brought her pain and now resided in her sheets, though he was cute, you couldn’t help but wonder how Aurora allowed herself to get so deep in it with him.

Even Seonghwa. Standing at the stove, bouncing between counters, sleek black hair sweeping his shoulders and framing his cheekbones, slender, toned golden frame on display. He played his own game with her, for his own gain, his own reputation.

As did the man currently beneath her.

And she forgave them all. Treated them as normally as she did you and Mingi.

Soul waited patiently, stepping back some to give you space to knock back the glass, which you did, and fast, holding it out for another pour. With a snicker he obliged, filling the crystal with juice.

“Thanks,” you whispered.

Soul smiled at you, his cheeks rounding beneath his black eyes. “Course,” he said quietly, just over the music for you to hear. His gaze lingered a moment longer, then he was off, listening to Seonghwa’s orders for him to help him cook, or clean, or whatever the eldest wanted him to do.

The rim of the glass hit your lips as your eyes slid over to Mingi, tall, broad, bare chested Mingi, lingering nearby Seonghwa, chatting with him, though his eyes were on you. All over you. His overgrown blonde hair and melty dark roots taunted you. His glassesless face, structure on display, it called out for you. Wider than Seonghwa, he had more muscle on his bones, more definition in his chest, his torso, down to his fucking ankles. Skin soft, so smooth you could feel it running over your fingertips just by looking at him, you knocked back the shot and contemplated pulling him upstairs.

In one look he could see into your head, he knew your thoughts as if they were his own, and he smirked, one so small not even Seonghwa could see it. But you could.

He shook his head, then he winked. Pushing off the counter with his backside he purposefully slid his hands over his middle and dipped the tips of his fingers beneath the band of his suit. Chin tipping back, he looked down at you, leaving nothing but a centimeter of space between you after he swaggered your way. Without looking at it he took the shot glass from your hand and slid it onto the table behind you. In one fluid motion he placed a finger beneath your chin and lifted you by the jaw, his own head tilting ever so slightly, dipping down the same, his warm breath dancing over your skin, his scent alone enchanting you, creating a space just for you.

Rising to your tiptoes to catch his lips with your own, he retreated backward with a click of his tongue. “Mm,” he hummed, voice low, deep in his chest. “You’ve got to wait.”

Lips pouting, you whispered a harsh, “Why?”

Mingi went unmoved. “Because I said so.”

He took his hand back and walked away, taking his eyes from you faster than you’d have liked.

Your stomach took a tumble.

This was not the time for him to play this game.

The baiting game, the ignore, deflect, have control game.

“Beach?” Aurora asked, throwing an arm as best as she could around your shoulders. Inches shorter than you, she stood on her tiptoes and held onto you with a smile.

Glancing over the other she wasn’t clinging to, you found Wooyoung beside Soul, the two whispering. Well, rather, Wooyoung whispered to Soul while the boy wrinkled his brow and tried to keep up with what he was saying.

“Beach,” you answered her with a nod, looking over at her and her happy face.

“Let’s go before the guys,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “Get some peace before they come and get loud, and play their music, and wanna play games…”

Some peace.

“Sure,” you shrugged, letting your eyes wander around the kitchen. Seonghwa and Wooyoung were picking at the plates of food, Soul bustled around like Wooyoung had sent him on a mission to straighten the place up, and Mingi stared at you. His hardened gaze flickered between you and Aurora, actually, and he was thinking.

He was thinking things you couldn’t figure out.

A piece of you hoped he didn’t feel out of place here. Without Yunho.

The tilt of your head and softening of your eyes alerted him that you put it together, his thoughts surrounding the fact that you were here with Aurora, you were here with Mingi, but Yunho wasn’t here with Aurora. With Mingi. Breaking his gaze, he focused elsewhere, not keen on wanting to talk about it, or think about it for much longer.

If last October had gone to plan, the way you and Mingi hoped, the way Mingi dished about to you, this trip may have looked a bit different, would’ve had different people residing in these walls. Less people. 

“Let’s go, Ror,” you mumbled, and she smiled.

“Let’s go.”

“Oh my god, he’s nuts,” Mingi muttered from behind you on the same towel you lounged on.

Everyone had eyes on Seonghwa in the clear blue water, diving into waves, jumping over them, hanging around a couple of guys who seemed to be around your age. He was good at that, making fast friends, charming strangers, beguiling them all. It came natural to him, and it seemed to amplify the moment Hongjoong stepped down from his presidency at ATZ and appointed Seonghwa to fill the position. 

It took him a week to accept, way longer than it took Aurora to snatch hers up and write your name down on the sheet beside Vice President. Seonghwa moved like his normal self. Calculated. He thought over every possible outcome, every possible situation that could arise, the shit show that Hongjoong was leaving behind for him to take over, for him to handle. That’s ultimately why he kept him close by. On the shortest of leashes. He made Hongjoong his Vice President, and he kept him in his pocket. He gave him all the freedom in the world however, on one condition.

“He’s finally not worried about shit,” Wooyoung said from your right, laying on his own towel, tanned legs stretched out in front of him, elbows propping him up where he laid. Sunglasses were perched on the edge of his nose, a pair of Cartier shades he bought himself recently. You can remember that phone call with Aurora, she was all teary eyed because she couldn’t afford to buy him anything he’d actually want to wear. 

Mingi laughed to agree with him. “Right,” he huffed. “A month of nothing, he’s gonna either lose his mind, or lose track of time.”

“I hope it’s time,” Wooyoung muttered, looking behind him up the stretch of sand toward the dunes where bars and lounges lived, luring tourists and beach goers in. “I want him to not think about anything that has to do with Nasara.”

You squinted at him, sitting up from where you laid. Tucking your legs in, crossing them beneath you, you asked, “Have you thought about his offer anymore?”

Wooyoung whipped his head toward you and scoffed, Cartier glasses sliding further down his curved nose. “To come back? Fuck that.”

“How come?” you asked. Mingi leaned forward and wrapped his arms around you from behind, sliding closer so he could press his chest to your back.

“The whole thing is screwed up,” Wooyoung shook his head, looking backward at the bar once more. “I don’t wanna be a part of something capable of that.”

“Capable of what?” you asked, egging him on. 

He looked at you with only his eyes. “Ruining lives.”

Mingi tried to nestle his head into your neck, the warmth of his body pairing with the warmth of the sun, all of it becoming too much. Shrugging, making him move, you smiled back at him and asked, “Get me a drink?” 

The corners of his lips perked up as he retreated off of you. “Sure,” he said gently, and took himself toward the bar Wooyoung kept watching.

Gaze following Mingi, you watched him step up onto the wooden ledge beneath the palm leafed covered awning and place a hand to Souls shoulder, giving him a little shake. The boy whirled around, sitting beside Aurora, the two rubbing elbows where they chatted, where they whispered. Your boyfriend smiled at him, said something to the both of them, and ordered you a drink.

“You don’t wanna be with them?” you asked Wooyoung. He didn’t give you any more of his attention, instead he focused on Seonghwa trekking up the sand, hair pushed back from his face. His suit clung to his thighs, outlining every muscle.

“Who?” Wooyoung asked, reaching over for a towel to hand to the eldest. “How was it?” he asked Seonghwa, giving him just as big a smile as he appeared with. 

Shaking the towel open he dried his hair first, pushing it backward before throwing the towel around his shoulders. “So good, you guys gotta get in there. It’s so warm, you don’t even have to wait to jump in.”

Wooyoung sat up completely and moved backward to give him a place to sit. “I will, Ro wants to go with me, I’ll wait for her.” 

Seonghwa sat and folded his legs, using the towel around his shoulders to dry his face and the rest of his arms. “Good shit,” he muttered without meeting his eyes. “Where’s she at?”

“At the bar,” you said quickly, and Seonghwa looked up at you. “With Soul.” Wooyoung looked at you. You looked at him. “You don’t want to go up there?” He raised a brow and tore off his sunglasses, tossing them in the space between him and Seonghwa.

“No,” he said, and you screwed your brows in confusion. “I’m not drinking again until later.”

“But they’re up there,” you said, throwing a hand in that direction. “Without you.”

Seonghwa glanced between the two of you, towel out of hand, completely dumbfounded.

Wooyoung maintained face, barely moving as he said, “And that matters, why?”

“One drink for Torilynn,” Mingi half sang as he rejoined you where you sat. You all looked up at him, two of you frustrated and one of you terribly confused. Your boyfriend took you all in and handed your drink over slowly. “What’d I miss?”

Ignoring him, you took the drink with the little umbrella poking out the top and whipped your head to glare at Wooyoung. “She went to his room last night.” Seonghwa pulled his lips in a line and averted his focus to the ocean, probably wishing he’d taken a bit longer to come back.

Wooyoung’s eyes narrowed in a way that sent a chill down your spine. “And then she came to ours ten minutes later.”

Sipping your drink, you shook your head. “Damn twenty year olds.”

His eyes widened. “You think they-”

“What do you mean by that?” Seonghwa asked. Wooyoung turned to him with a sigh, sending a glare your way shortly after.

“I mean-”

Mingi placed a hand on your shoulder. “Tori.” Sharing a look with him, one that nauseated you, you sipped your drink and took a breath. Blinking a few times you turned to Seonghwa.

“Who’d you hang with at the party?” you asked him, but it did nothing to cure the burning need to know in his dark eyes.

He glanced at Wooyoung, now leaning back on an elbow swiping through his phone, then back at you. “Yeosang,” he shrugged. “Him and H. Mostly H, actually, now that I think about it. He wasn’t sure what he was going to get into there, he was nervous. I hung with him to make sure he’d be okay.”

Mingi smiled. “You’re so good, Hwa.” His president returned the smile. Groaning internally, your eyes rolled outwardly. Mingi leaned in to kiss your cheek, lingering close by, watching you suck the liquor up through the straw. “Listen,” he said quietly, just for you. “You keep your mouth shut and I’ll let you do anything you want to do to me later.” The drink paused in your straw, and he snickered. “I know you can do it, baby, you can be such a good girl for me.” You looked at him, pulling the straw from your mouth. “Can you?”

“Get me in the water!” Aurora shouted, both her and Soul hurrying from the bar, kicking sand about. Rounding the group, she fell into Wooyoung’s lap, taking him by surprise in a fit of giggles, happy giggles. Throwing her arms around his shoulders she straddled his lap and laid him out on the towel, half of him in the sand. Soul, with a smile, waited patiently beside Seonghwa, the two laughing at the couple, then sharing something amongst themselves.

Lost in disgusting kisses, like they weren’t surrounded by their friends, on a crowded beach, you curled your lip and looked around to see if anyone else was as disturbed by the scene.

They weren’t.

“I’m gonna throw you in there,” Wooyoung said, muffled by her lips. 

Aurora giggled again. “No you will not.”

“I am so sandy,” he said, hooking his hands under her thighs. “You are getting thrown in,” he laughed, jumping up to his feet. Aurora clung to him tighter with a shriek, throwing her head backward with a wicked smile for help, for assistance. Her eyes met yours twice.

“Help,” she breathed. All you could do was watch.

“No one’s helping, Ro, you did this to yourself,” Wooyoung laughed along with her, Seonghwa and Soul too, all three of them gleaming. He flew down the sand, the other two following right behind. Without even knowing if they hit the waves, if he threw her in or not, you turned back to Mingi who hadn’t moved an inch. You were the only thing he paid attention to, even amongst the chaos.

Taking a hand to your cheek he danced the back of his fingers over your skin, then he reached into his pocket and pulled out two phones, handing one over to you. “Here,” he said softly, eyes never leaving yours, “That’s blowing up.”

Tearing your gaze off of him you took to your phone, tapping the screen, swiping it open. Three messages stowed away in your inbox. One from your father, the other two from that phone number that sent you all of those messages last night. You’d get back to your dad later, when you had a free minute. The unknown number totally wasn't the excuse you were using to not talk to him.

You held your drink out for Mingi to take, and he did, standing up to move over to the towel beside you. He picked up Wooyoung's Cartier glasses and pushed them back on his head.

[Unknown Number]: hope the beach is fun

[Unknown Number]: u look hot

[you]: stop texting me. you creep ass motherfucker

“Who’s that?” Mingi asked, sipping from your drink. Giving him a look, his brows were furrowed. “You look mad at the world.”

“My sister,” slipped through your teeth with all the ease in the world, so much so it scared you, but once he heard the words his face softened.

“Makes sense,” he nodded, “Tell her I said hi. You guys haven’t spoken in a while, this is weird.”

Staring at the screen, waiting for another message to come through, you cursed this stranger for not having their read receipts on. Your message lived on Delivered. “Yeah, I guess this is weird,” you mumbled, locking the screen. 

“Are you feeling any better?” he asked quietly, dropping his chin. Glancing at the sand, at the water and your friends splashing about, Aurora on Wooyoung’s shoulders, Soul on Seonghwa’s, you shrugged.

“Totally,” you said, and a sarcastic laugh fell out of him. “What?” you whined, giving him a look.

Mingi shook his head and sipped from your glass. It took him a second to speak, to form any words, all he could do was stare at you in disbelief that you were still lying to him. And then he said it. 

“I can’t believe you’re still lying to me.”

“Mingi,” you sighed with a slouch of your shoulders.

He shot you a half smile and handed back your drink, one now half empty. “I opened a tab.” With a slight squint to his eyes, he said, “I’m gonna go hang out with them, okay?”

Sighing louder, you grabbed onto your phone, you gripped the glass, and you leapt to your feet, tossing your ponytail over your shoulder. “Enjoy, I’m gonna go do a shot.” His demeanor fell, his eyes going extremely soft. “Just don’t,” you said just above a whisper. “Go have fun.”

“Do you want me to come with?” he asked from the sand, glued to you as you started toward the bar.

You looked back over your shoulder to him and his traveling eyes. “Not if you have to ask,” you said with a smile, leaving him where he sat.

Bodies filled the bar, leaning over the tropical styled counter, lounging in cushioned swings hanging from the ceiling, surrounding tables, everyone in bathing suits and sandals, or completely barefoot. Party music poured out of the speakers, a beat unknown to you but recognized by a few who chose to dance between tables, or down on the sand. People of all ages minded their own, kept to themselves or the people they came with. Not a soul paid attention to you as you approached the edge, sliding onto a stool with your now empty glass.

“What can I get you?” the girl in the bikini behind the bar asked as she basically danced up to you. Long caramel hair swept over her shoulders down to the middle of her back. The hot pink of her suit complimented her mocha toned skin, leaving you to wonder if it was natural or if she spent ample time in the sun.

“Whatever this was,” you said with a small smile, pushing the glass toward her. With one look at it she knew, snatching the glass away to fetch you a fresh drink.

Spinning on the stool, twisting to face the water, letting the ocean breeze brush over your skin, chilling the burn you’d been starting to feel from the sun, you took a deep breath and released it with a slow close of your eyes. All that was to be heard, the bar music, the people within it, and the crashing of the waves. No friends shouting, no boyfriend in your ear, no worries.

Peace.

Until your phone vibrated in your lap.

With a groan you opened it up.

[Unknown Number]: such a way with words miss tori

[Unknown Number]: lets be nice to each other

[you]: not like this, no. i’m going to block you.

[Unknown Number]: u would have done it yesterday if u were serious abt it

[Unknown Number]: tell me

[Unknown Number]: what keeps u from pressing that button

Damn. 

[you]: who are you.

[Unknown Number]: see i knew it

[Unknown Number]: ur curiosity overwhelms u

[you]: you tell me who you are, and then i block you.

[Unknown Number]: u’ll figure it out soon enough

[Unknown Number]: i promise ;)

Opening the contact, you clicked around on the settings and turned off the notifications. You also turned off your own read receipts. You also double checked that your location wasn’t shared with every single contact in your phone.

Even though apparently this person was already in Haos, they said so themselves last night.

They were right, whoever it was, you weren’t going to block them. Who in their right mind would block somebody like this without knowing who it was? Without knowing their motive? You’d dig deeper. You’d figure out who they were, and if it ended in disappointment, that was that, but if it happened to uncover something deeper, that was worth it. What if it had to do with Aurora? Her dad? What if it involved Mingi, or one of your other friends? It could be associated with Isla, if she was in trouble and you did nothing to help her, you’d never forgive yourself.

Swiping back into the messages, there was one unread.

[Unknown Number]: u know who i am tori.

Gulping, you spun back to face the bar, your fresh drink sitting in front of you all pretty on display, fresh fruit in the glass, tiny umbrella poked into the pineapple. Grabbing onto it, you guzzled it down quickly, barely giving yourself a chance to breathe. You locked your phone completely, deciding to message again later. Or tomorrow. Or if they texted again.

Resting an elbow on the bar, placing your chin within it, you took another long, much needed deep breath. You should tell Aurora about this person, or Mingi. Somebody other than you should know, just in case. Scanning around the bar, taking everything in, the beach paradise you’d be spending a month in, some sort of excitement shot through you. A type of electricity you hadn’t felt in weeks. Maybe even months. That number, that person, was your secret. You didn’t have to tell anyone.

People bustled by, people shouted while they danced, the world moved around you, and it suddenly didn’t seem so awful. No one would know. No one will know.

A smile crept onto your face, one you couldn’t swallow down. Grabbing your glass, you spun on the stool and jumped off of it, starting for the sand.

“Tori!” 

You froze on the ledge. A boy called out your name.

Turning toward the bar, your stomach dropped to your knees, and your cheeks surely flushed of all color. 

Across the bar, the entire thing a giant square, three familiar heads of hair greeted you. Two with smiles, and one with a look that sickened you.

Or fueled the excitement within you.

You weren’t sure.

Intak, Jiung, and Jongseob. 

His dirty blonde hair and bare shoulders should not have your heart pounding between your lungs, he should bring nothing but disgust, and shame, and regret, and more disgust. His friends waved, but he stared. He stared at more than he should before that shit eating smirk showed off his dimples.

little birdie told me u were here. so am i

hope the beach is fun

u know who i am tori.

Well, this should be fun.

read it on ao3 | talk to me | my masterlist

you do not have permission to copy or translate my works without my consent.

[cathode-crew]

Please maybe comment how much it cost and the state it was in.

[lilaccatholic]

Physically I'm here but mentally I'm clawing the eyes out of everyone who talks crap about their children on the internet and posts them in their most vulnerable moments for clout

[animemusicbrackets]

Hewwo everybody! first of all: happy Juneteenth to all my African American friends! Second, I have update on the semifinals: i am traveling for a convention (anime ohio) and don’t have access to a computer, so semifinals will go up next weekend, not this weekend. Had a lot of stuff going on including con crunching so I kinda.. forgor to make the next bracket round….. so it will have to wait til I get back. sorry. Please be patient with me 🥲

[schnaf]

.

[whytheylosttheirminds]

home for the holidays (part one) - r.c.

❄️ a frat!rafe cameron holiday mini series ❄️

summary a simple favor for a friend ends with you reluctantly bringing Rafe Cameron, resident campus fuckboy, home for the holidays. It’s gonna take more than a little mistletoe for him to win you over…

content “enemies” to lovers, copious amounts of flirting, eventual smut, a dash of familial angst, parental illness and mentions of parental death, 18+ mdni

Brodyyy <3: hey thanks again for offering to give me a ride back to nc for break!

You: ofc! anything for u after u gave me those o chem notes bestie

Brodyyy <3: i’m glad to hear ya say that…bc i have one more favor to ask

You: what’s up?

Brodyyy <3: one of my frat bros needs a ride back too, can he join?

You: does he live near us?

Brodyyy <3: he’s from obx but if you get us to my house I can take him the rest of the way in my mom’s car, so no extra driving for you!

You: yeah then i guess that’s cool!!

You: as long as i’m home before 6pm on the 21st i’m good

Brodyyy <3: cookie day?

You: exactly, u get me

Brodyyy <3: dw we’ll get you home in time for cookies! Tysm!

You: np!

You: what’s his name btw?

Brodyyy <3: …

You: *questioned* “what’s his name btw?”

Brodyyy <3: rafe

You: be so fr rn

You: as in cameron???

You: Brody, did u seriously invite rafe cameron to drive home with us??

Hour one

You could see your breath, fog filling the air with each shivering exhale as you pulled your coat tighter around your shoulders. Even after three-and-a-half years, you’d never gotten used to these North Eastern winters. The plan was to be well on your way towards a milder climate by now, but here you were, leaning against the open hatchback trunk of your car, desperately clutching your hot coffee as you waited for your friend to show up. With his friend. You rolled your eyes as you checked the time on your phone for the hundredth time, none of your many texts to Brody returned.

“Brody, I swear to god,” you mumbled under your breath, “five more minutes and I’m leaving your ass.”

Time ticked on without any sight of him. With a resigned sigh, you reached up to close the trunk.

“Hey wait up!” a voice called from behind you. You whipped around to find its owner.

Standing a few feet back on the sidewalk, sherpa lined corduroy jacket, backpack slung over his shoulder and obnoxiously handsome smirk painted on his face, was Rafe Cameron. Notorious playboy, frat president, and hands down your least favorite person on this campus. 

It wasn’t a big school, everyone knew Rafe Cameron. All of your friends had crushes on him, some of them even managed to hook up with him or have stories of making out with him at frat parties. Every Friday night, he popped up on every Insta story on campus, somehow everywhere at once, and yet your paths had never crossed directly. You were okay with that. You knew his type well enough.

“I’m Rafe,” he interjected when you didn’t greet him.

“I know,” you said dryly.

“My reputation precedes me?” He grinned, his slight southern drawl reminding you of home with a pang of nostalgia, until you remembered that this guy was from a completely different world than you.

“I wouldn’t be too proud of that,” you shot back, slamming the trunk closed. “Where’s Brody?”

Rafe usually gave people about ten seconds before he decided if he liked them or not. A lethal combination of impatience and general distrust that he disguised seamlessly under cocky confidence. Your arms were crossed in hostility as you frowned at him, even though he’d barely said two words to you. 

Ah yes, he knew exactly your type. You were that irritating brand of stuck up smart girl who always saw right through him. Sure, you were surprisingly really pretty, a fact Brody had forgotten to mention, but annoying nonetheless. He decided right then not to like you, since you so clearly had already decided not to like him. 

“He’s not coming,” Rafe informed you. “Didn’t he tell you?”

“No, he didn’t,” you huffed, “Is he okay?”

“Yeah, he got a gig with a professor to be a research assistant, but he’s gotta stay on campus to do it,” he explained.

“He could’ve told me,” you rolled your eyes, checking the time again to calculate how far behind his no-show had made you. “I’m gonna have to adjust the schedule.”

“The schedule?” He cocked his head, picking up on the tightly wrinkled knot in your forehead as you pulled a folded piece of graph paper from your pocket.

It was color coded and intricate, every mile, every meal, every gas stop accounted for, down to the minute. You had a pencil in your hair, tucked neatly into your messy bun so you could pull it out quickly and make necessary changes, as you were doing now. You held the paper up against the side of your car, erasing and scribbling intensely as you recalculated the trip. 

“I need to be home by six at the latest, it’s nine now, that leaves only an hour for stops and traffic, we were supposed to leave at eight…” you looked up to eye him pointedly as you said the last part, silently blaming him for the delay as you did your mental math.

“Sorry to make you wait, I needed my beauty sleep,” he raised his hands in defense, lips curling back to display his shiny white smile. “You don’t think this all just happens naturally do you?” He gestured to his face.

You tucked the paper back into your pocket as you eyed him up and down, unimpressed and yet simultaneously beginning to understand why all your girlfriends had fallen so easily for this douchebag. He was handsome, sharp features permanently set in an arrogant smirk. His body was tall and lean yet built, enough that you could tell he was muscular even under all those layers. His dirty blonde hair sat messy over his forehead, sticking out at all angles in a way that made it clear he’d just woken up. 

But you were smart, life and your high IQ made you an expert in reading people. You could see right through him.

“I wasn’t waiting for you, I was waiting for Brody,” you shut him down. “And since he’s apparently not coming, I’m gonna hit the road,” you slammed the trunk closed, pulling your keys from your pocket and making your way to the driver’s side door.

You opened the door, fully intending to climb in and drive off on your own, but Rafe appeared quickly by your side, closing the door before you could climb in.

“Woah, woah, wait,” he said, his arm out next to your head to hold the door closed.

You scoffed at his boldness and stepped back, “uhm excuse me!”

“You’re excused,” he smirked down at you. “How am I gonna get home?”

“Greyhound station is that way,” you pointed over your shoulder, trying to push him out of the way of your door, but he was too sturdy to be moved. He leaned back against the door and crossed his arms, planting himself.

“I’d rather ride with you,” he flashed you a devilish grin you just knew he was used to throwing around like currency.

“Dude, can you just let me into my car?” You shut him down.

“What’s the magic word?” God, did this guy have a punchable face.

“Please,” you reluctantly let out through gritted teeth.

“Hmm, no,” he turned it back on you, planting his feet firmly on the ground, both of you knowing there was no way you were gonna be able to overpower his large frame.

“Okay seriously? I know you’re used to using your body to get what you want, but it’s not gonna work this time,” you were done fucking around, an invisible clock ticking in your mind while your trip was delayed even further by this jackass. “Get away from my car.”

“I will when you agree to give me a ride,” his lips twisted and his voice dropped, aimed down at you, “or we can keep standing here and talking about my body.”

You couldn’t help but blush, and he couldn’t help but like it. The embarrassment at the involuntary response only fueled your anger.

“Why would I do that? I don’t even know you,” it wasn’t entirely true, you knew more than you cared to know about him. Or at least, in this moment, you thought you did.

“Brody said you owe him a favor right? Do it for him,” he suggested.

“If he wanted to cash in on his favor, he should’ve been here himself.”

“Okay then, what if I paid for gas? What was Brody gonna do, go 50/50 with you? I’ll cover the whole trip,” he reached into his pocket and pulled out a thick leather wallet, opening it to flash you his black card. 

You couldn’t help but also notice the polaroids tucked in the see-through pockets. On one side, what appeared to be a family photo; Rafe, an older man and two young girls smiling on a giant boat. On the other side, some sorority girls in bikinis, flashing the camera at a charity car wash. Who the fuck was this guy? 

“Brody was also gonna take you the rest of the way to the Outer Banks. I’m going west and there’s no way I’m getting on a ferry, how are you gonna get home?” You reasoned, though he could hear in your tone that you were starting to actually consider saying yes. 

Time to bring it home, he thought.

“I’ll figure it out. Just get me to the ferry and I’ll be fine. I’ll be eternally grateful, I’ll owe you a big favor. And I never do people favors.”

“The more you talk, the less I want to be stuck in a car with you for eight hours,” you said. 

Dammit, his plan backfired. But he hadn’t missed the way you eyed the picture of him with his dad, Sarah and Wheezie in his wallet. Maybe he could use that to his advantage.

“Please? All flights are sold out and I’d really like to see my little sisters for Christmas,” he blinked his wide blue eyes, mustering up all the sincerity he could find.

Family was your weak spot, you wondered if Brody had told him that. As much as you truly did not want to get in this cramped, two-door car with him, you felt bad picturing the two little girls waiting patiently for their big brother to come home for Christmas. Ugh.

With a deep sigh, you finally said, “fine.” 

Rafe slapped his hand on the car’s roof in celebration, reveling in his victory as he finally stepped away from your door.

“I’ll get you to the ferry and that’s it,” you qualified, trying to dampen his enthusiasm. “I need to be home by six, if I’m late you’re gonna owe me a lot more than a favor.”

He crossed his fingers over his heart solemnly, “scout’s honor!”

“You can throw your stuff in the backseat,” you instructed, your trunk already full to the brim with presents for your family.

“What, you got too much junk in your trunk?” He chuckled at his own joke as he jogged around to the passenger’s side.

You rolled your eyes hard as you climbed in the driver’s seat. This was gonna be the longest eight hours of your life.

Hour two

The heat in your car was cranked at full blast, but you were still shivering as you drove. This car was a hand-me-down from your dad, it got you back and forth to school, but left plenty to be desired in the way of amenities.

Based on the designer watch he was wearing and his Gatsby-esque reputation, you were pretty confident this was the least fancy car Rafe had ever been in.

“Sorry about the rattling,” you said, needlessly gesturing toward the dash, which shook steadily with the hum of the engine. “She’s a good car, but she’s got creaky bones.”

“It’s cool,” he shrugged, pulling a pack of gum out of his coat pocket.

“I’m sure the G-wagons you’re used to don’t shake when you accelerate.”

Rafe popped a piece of gum in his mouth, snapping it obnoxiously between his teeth as he looked over at you, head cocked in observation.

“You don’t like me,” he surmised simply.

Your mouth fell open slightly, startled by how directly he clocked you, “I- I barely know you.”

“Then why do you roll your eyes everytime I open my mouth?”

“Maybe I just don’t like what you have to say.”

His eyes narrowed, considering this for a moment before deciding, “nah, I think it’s something else. Did we have a class together or something?”

“No, just a couple mutual friends,” you smiled the fakest of smiles.

“Yeah? Like who?”

“Girls you’ve ghosted mainly,” you said.

“Whaaat, me? Ghost someone? I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he smirked.

“Yeah right,” you shook your head with an incredulous laugh that only widened his grin. “You know exactly what I mean, you ghost them and then you gaslight them that you were never a thing to begin with. We call it the Rafe Cameron special.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, I’ve never done that,” he said.

“That’s such bullshit, this girl in my hall freshman year showed me all your texts, you totally gaslit her.” 

“Gaslit? Me? You’re crazy…” he said.

You almost took the bait, mouth opened indignantly to argue again before you finally caught onto his game and the growing prideful smirk on his face. He was fucking with you.

You turned the music up, blocking him out as he chuckled under his breath in the seat next to you, ever so pleased with himself.

“Oh, c’mon, lighten up,” he tilted his body toward you, his long legs cramped in the small space of your front seat. 

He placed his hand on the back of your headrest, his arm easily reaching the distance between you. 

“It’s college, it’s not that serious. Everybody’s hooking up and breaking up. I mean, I’m sure you’ve had your fair share of flings,” his eyes ran up and down your body with that final remark.

You stumbled over your response. You weren’t necessarily a shy person, but you didn’t walk around discussing your personal life as openly as he apparently does. 

“I…can you stop looking at me like that please?”

“Looking at you like what?” He grinned, feigning innocence.

“Like you know me at all.”

“You’re right, I don’t,” he nodded. “Though I think I’ve pretty much figured you out.”

“Oh have you?” Your eyebrows shot up.

“Yeah, I mean, I have my guesses at least…”

“Please, share with the class,” you turned the radio down to better hear his absurdity, sure that he was full of shit.

“You were top of your class in high school, graduating with a…3.97 GPA,” he began. “You got in automatic acceptance to a bunch of state schools but you insisted on going to your reach, which thrilled your parents I’m sure. College isn’t as easy as high school, but you’ve settled around an A minus average final grade. You’re not in a sorority, I would’ve seen you at a mixer, but you’re definitely in some organized groups. Not sports, that’s not practical enough, it’s gotta be something where you can do some networking. Brody said you’re what, pre-med? So you’re probably in some kind of medical honors society. I bet you’ve had only one serious boyfriend, maybe a long distance high school sweetheart, but you’re too focused on school to make that work so you dumped his ass. A few hook ups since then, but nothing real. How am I doing?”

Your eyes were glued to the road, face gone ashen as he continued to nail correct guess after correct guess.

“My high school GPA was 3.98 actually,” you said weakly. “And I don’t like this game.”

Rafe had never been more smug, beaming triumphantly at your confirmation of all his assumptions.

“Don’t worry, I’m done playing,” he leaned forward to take off his coat, balling it up to use as a pillow so he could lean his head on the window. “Wake me up when at the next scheduled stop, will ya?”

“No promises,” you grumbled, making him smile as he drifted off to sleep.

Hour three

Bright red brake lights glowed in a line stretched out in front of you for a mile. You sighed deeply, your foot sore from holding down the brake for a full ten minutes. Resigned, you finally gave in and put the car in park, eyeing the clock on the dash anxiously.

Rafe snored. Loudly.

You shot him a bitter glare as he sat passed out in the passenger seat, blissfully unaware of the stop-and-go traffic jam you had gotten stuck in, enjoying his free ride and interrupting your music with his loud snores. Out of spite, you leaned forward and turned up the radio until your music was practically blaring through the speakers.

Somehow, like even in his sleep he knew how to push your buttons, he started snoring louder. You turned the music up as high as it would go, singing along at the top of your lungs until he finally started stirring, eyes blinking open. You quickly turned down the music, stifling a laugh at the confused, grumpy look on his face.

“We’re not moving,” he mumbled, groggily taking in your surroundings.

“You have great observational skills,” you teased him.

“You didn’t think to account for traffic on your little itinerary?” He said smugly.

“I did,” you defended yourself, “just not until we passed through DC. This part of I-95 isn’t usually so packed.”

Rafe sat up in his seat, not having much room to stretch out his legs but trying anyway. He watched the way you were chewing on the inside of your cheek, nervously tapping your hands on the steering wheel.

“So what’s happening at six o’clock?” He asked, trying to pull you from your anxious thoughts.

“Hmm?”

“Before we left, you said you had to be home at six. What’s at six?” 

“Oh, uh, it’s kind of silly actually, you wouldn’t get it,” you sat back in your seat, finally accepting that the car in front of you wasn’t moving anytime soon.

“Try me,” he said.

You looked at him, trying to decide if you wanted to share and risk his getting his rude opinion on something so special to you. But you were hungry, and tired, and stressed, and honestly, after a few too many hours in his charismatic orbit, you were looking for more reasons not to like him.

“It’s because of cookies,” you admitted.

“Cookies?” He cocked his eyebrow, trying to maintain his non-judgemental stance.

“My mom makes these gingerbread cookies that are literally the best thing I’ve ever tasted. They’re so good, she makes them every christmas, but she only makes one batch. It’s an old family recipe her mom left her when she passed away and my mom said she isn’t supposed to give it to me until she’s…gone…”

You paused to swallow hard, like there were more words fighting their way out. Feeling a little too vulnerable with Rafe’s eyes on you, you pushed them back down. 

“…anyway, I have three younger brothers, and they get home from their practices at six. The second they walk in the door, they’ll attack those cookies and there won’t be any left for me. So I need to get home before them or I’ll have to wait a whole year for more cookies.”

You watched him out of the corner of your eye as he decided whether or not he was gonna tease you.

Finally he landed on, “gingerbread, really? They can’t possibly be that good.”

“Oh no, believe me they really are. I’m not usually into gingerbread either but these are seriously the best thing I’ve ever put in my mouth.”

Rafe’s eyebrows shot up, smirking at you from his side of the car. It took a second for you to hear your own double entenadre. 

“Oh shut up,” you laughed, reaching over to swat his arm.

“I didn’t say anything!” He pretended to wince, rubbing the spot on his arm you’d hit dramatically. You flexed your hand, surprised that it stung a little, his arm firmer than you were expecting. 

“You question the cookies and then you mock me,” you shook your head. “I should make you get out and walk the rest of the way.”

“No, no!” He chuckled. “I would never question the cookies. I’m sure they’re delicious. Don’t make me walk.”

You zeroed your eyes in on him, “fine. You're safe. For now.”

He wiped his forehead playfully, mouthing a silent ‘phew!’

After a few minutes, traffic started moving again, though painfully slowly. Rafe was drumming along to the radio on the dashboard, growing more impatient by the second. His fidgeting reminded you of a bored toddler.

“Why can’t you mom just make more cookies?” He blurted out.

Your grip tightened on the wheel as sudden brake lights ahead of you forced you to slam on your own brake yet again. This was the direction you were hoping the conversation wouldn’t head in.

“She, uh…she just makes the one batch,” you tried to shrug the question off, but he was too busy tapping away and shifting in his seat to notice your growing discomfort.

“I mean how long can it take? A couple hours maybe? I bet she could just -”

“She just can’t, okay?” You snapped, your growing irritation with the traffic jam making the words come out a little sharper than you’d intended. You took a deep breath when his eyes snapped toward you, “sorry. She just…she can only make one.”

Rafe nodded, his bottom lip sticking out as he returned his attention to his phone, typing rapidly.

“Alright then, take the next exit,” he said.

“What?”

“In a half mile on the right, take that exit,” he repeated.

“Why?” you asked.

“I found a faster route,” he explained. “Let’s get you those cookies.”

Hour four

Rafe was right, the alternate route he found for you had caught you up to schedule, even putting you about twenty miles ahead of where you expected to be by this point.

With the made up time, Rafe finally convinced you to stop for food, and, after several minutes of arguing, to let him drive the next stretch.

It was amazing how much your mood improved with some food in your system. Now that you weren’t the one behind the wheel, it was you shuffling restlessly in the seat, unfolding and refolding your schedule and refreshing the GPS on your phone every couple of minutes. 

“In one hundred and twenty two miles, veer left…” refresh “in one hundred and twenty miles, veer left…” refresh “in one hundred and nineteen miles-“

“Veer left! It’s gonna keep saying the same thing every time, you really don’t need to keep refreshing it,” Rafe grunted.

You shot him a glare, making a show of turning your phone off and tucking it in your pocket. 

“Remind me why you couldn’t just drive yourself?” You snarled. “What, is the Beamer in the shop?”

“It’s a Range Rover, actually,” he corrected you, pulling forth yet another eye roll from you as you mumbled ‘of course it is.’ “And yes, actually, it is.”

“Ah, you pimping your ride?”

He snorted, “what is it 2005? No, I, uh, totaled it, actually.”

“I knew I shouldn’t let you drive,” you winced, grabbing the handle above the passenger door theatrically.

“Relax, it wasn’t my fault,” he assured you.

“Let me guess, the other driver was so blinded by your dazzling smile that they crashed right into you?” 

“There was no other driver,” he said, smirking with a sidelong glance in your direction. “Glad to know you think my smile is that powerful though.”

You regretted your word choice immediately, your brain was working so fast to deflect his charm you had lost the plot a bit. You scrambled to put the focus back on him so he wouldn’t see the way you were blushing.

“Okay so what’s the story then?” You asked.

“It’s really not that interesting. I was driving around campus and there was something in the street, I swerved and hit a tree, that’s it,” he reached to turn the radio a little louder, your eyes narrowing at the avoidant tone he’d adopted.

“You saw ‘something?’ What ‘something’ did you see?” You pressed, amused by his discomfort.

“Just, uhm, an animal in the road,” he said dismissively.

You nodded, a little “ah” leaving your lips as you returned your gaze to the window. You tapped your fingers on your thigh to the beat of the song. You wanted to know more, he knew you wanted to know more. The tension broke quick.

“What kind of animal was -”

“Ohhh my god, you’re so nosy, it was-“ he cut himself off momentarily to lower his voice, “it was a bunny alright?”

Your laugh was immediate and loud, head falling back at the image he’d conjured for you.

“Alright, it’s not that funny but whatever,” he rolled his eyes, unable to suppress the little curve of his lips at the pretty sound of your unguarded giggles. 

“No, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you said between laughs, wiping the tears from the corner of your eyes, “it’s not funny. It’s nice. You crashed your Range Rover trying to save a little rabbit. I just didn’t expect Rafe Cameron to break for bunnies, it’s very cute.”

Rafe never got flustered, he practically majored in flirting, it never phased him. So why the fuck was he blushing like a little kid right now?

Get your shit together, Cameron, he thought, she’s just some girl.

“So you and Brody, y’all sleeping together or...?”

Your laughter stopped dead in its tracks, head snapping towards him as your jaw slammed shut.

Pointedly not answering him, you grabbed your Coke from the cupholder and took a long sip.

“Is that a yes?” he continued. 

“Not that it’s any of your business,” you cut him off, fiddling with the straw, “but no, we’re just old friends.”

Long gone was the playful air of the bunny story. Unable to recover and get a positive reaction from you, he figured he might as well dig himself deeper. In for a penny…

“But, c’mon, you’re saying you two have seriously never…”

“Ew no, he’s literally like my brother,” you shut him down. “Why do you care so much? You jealous?”

Fuck, he hadn’t meant to give you the upper ground, he needed to level the field. 

“You just seemed pretty upset when you found out he wasn’t coming is all. Like, I dunno, a woman scorned and all that…”

“Have you considered it’s because I realized I was gonna be stuck in a car alone with you for eight hours?”

Thoroughly pissed off, you sank down in your seat and continued sipping your Coke, avoiding looking at him by counting the mile markers on the side of the highway. 

Rafe looked over at you, taking in the flex of your jaw as you stewed. He usually didn’t give a fuck if his words offended people. He preferred it, actually. But something about the shape of your smile and the sound of your laughter made him wish you were always happy. He felt like shit for making it go away, then he felt like shit for feeling like shit given his decision not to like you.

His eyes stayed on you for longer than they should, studying the shape of your silhouette in the soft light of the December sun. 

“Watch out!” You shrieked suddenly.

Rafe’s eyes shot forward and he realized with panic that he’d been veering off the road, the front of the car dangerously skewed in the direction of the metal guard rail. 

“Fuck!” 

He cut the wheel hard, overshooting his correction and causing the car to jerk sharply to the left. In your concern, you gripped your drink so hard the lid came off, your ice cold diet coke splashing out of the cup and all over you.

Rafe redirected the car until it was back in the correct lane, but you were already covered in diet soda. Coke dripped from your hair onto your face, your mouth hung wide open in shock and fury.

“Shit, my bad,” Rafe said, reaching in the fast food bag for some napkins.

He started dabbing it completely unhelpfully at your shoulder and you ripped the napkin from his hands.

“This is my favorite shirt, ugh what the fuck Rafe!” You scolded him, trying to use the napkins with very little luck, the shirt was definitely ruined.

“I said I’m sorry! Jesus calm down, it’s not like I did it on purpose,” he huffed at you, hating that he liked how you said his name, even when you were yelling at him.

“No of course not, you never do anything on purpose,” you quipped.

It took everything in him not to snap back with a “you don’t even fucking know me,” but he remained silent. Biting his tongue was a new taste to him, he didn’t like it, but he didn’t like the feeling of you being pissed at him either. Today was a day of firsts.

“We’re gonna have to stop so I can get a new shirt from the trunk,” you said.

Eager to return to familiar territory, he jumped at the opportunity to antagonize you, shaking his head and tsking condescendingly, “no can do, there’s no stops on the schedule for an hour.”

“Okay well this is obviously an extenuating circumstance,” you argued.

“So was me wanting to stop at that outlet mall to get presents for my family, but we didn’t stop then,” he countered.

“Right, because those things are comparable,” you scoffed. “It’s not my fault you waited until the last second to do your Christmas shopping.”

You were right, but he still resented the know-it-all tone in your accusation.

“Well I’m the driver and I say we’re sticking to the schedule,” he doubled down.

“So I’m just supposed to sit here covered in soft drink for the rest of the trip?”

“I have an old sweatshirt in my bag you can borrow,” he offered.

The urge to continue fighting with him until he agreed to pull over was strong, but the urge to get out of the cold, sticky shirt was stronger. With a sigh, you climbed into the backseat and dug through Rafe’s bag until you found a soft, worn out hoodie with a logo on the front that said “Kildare Academy Lacrosse” and on the back “Cameron #44.”

You reached down to peel off your shirt, looking up first to catch Rafe watching you through the rear view mirror. Your hands paused on the hem, giving him a steely look.

“Uh, a little privacy please?” 

His eyes continued flicking between you and the road, “I just wanna see if you found the right sweatshirt,” he claimed.

You let out an indignant tsk, mouth open in disbelief when he gave you a little wink through the mirror. You reached forward and smushed your hand into his cheek, pushing his head back toward the road. He bit his bottom lip, trying to play nonchalant as you stripped off your shirt just inches behind him. He might act like a playboy, but he did actually have enough respect not to look at you while you changed.

Still, keeping his eyes on the road meant seeing the fuzzy form of you in his peripheral vision. The general hue of your skin tone and the swift movement of you pulling your shirt over your head sucked some of the air from his usually puffed-out chest. He felt like he was twelve years old, the way just the thought of you shirtless in the backseat made his hands clammy and his heart pick up speed. He needed to get a grip.

The sweatshirt was about two sizes too big but so warm and comfortable you didn’t care. You expected it to smell like some cheap cologne or boy sweat, but instead it smelled like something sweet and inviting - fabric softener, you realized with a grin. You’d tease him for that later.

Hour five

Somewhere in the middle-of-nowhere Virginia, your gas light came on. You agreed to let him drive for another fifty miles after a quick gas station pit stop, planning to take the allotted thirty minute nap you’d mapped out on your schedule before driving the rest of the way.

Rafe paid for the gas, as promised, and stood by the car as he filled your tank. You never did get to finish your Diet Coke, so you ran inside to grab another while he pumped.

“That’ll be $2.79, dear,” the cashier told you, her southern accent and charm a tell-tale sign that you were nearing home.

With a smile, you pulled out your debit card and held it out for her to swipe.

“Sorry sweetheart, there’s a five dollar minimum for cards,” she informed you politely.

“Oh, okay,” you looked around the counter for something to add, swiping some knick-knacks from their display to round up your bill.

----❄----

The car door slammed as Rafe climbed back in next to you, balling up the receipt for the gas and tossing it into the backseat.

“How much was it?” You asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” he shrugged, turning the key as the engine sputtered to life. 

You shouldn’t feel bad, he offered to pay, and you were technically the one doing him a favor. Still, you were raised by blue collar parents, ‘neither a borrower nor a lender be’ and elbow grease was gospel in your home. You felt like you needed to give him something.

“Here,” you passed him the bag of trinkets you’d bought inside.

Rafe looked in the bag with a confused grin.

“What am I supposed to do with these?” He laughed as he pulled the items out of the bag.

“You could…give them to your sisters,” you suggested.

“What are they gonna do with a Thomas Jefferson snow globe and a bumper sticker that says ‘Virginia is for Lovers’?”

“Well it’s better than a slip of paper that says ‘IOU one christmas present,’” You teased him.

“Y’know what? Very true,” he nodded, tucking the bag of goodies in the backseat and pulling out of the gas station. 

The drive was silent for a few minutes. You leaned forward, resting your arms on the dash as you watched the emerging silhouette of the Blue Ridge Mountains on the far horizon. It was all getting so close; a crackling fire, drinking hot cocoa while watching How The Grinch Stole Christmas with your brothers, decorating the tree, those gingerbread cookies…

“What are you smiling about?” Rafe’s voice interrupted your revelry.

“I’m just excited to get home and see my family,” you said with a happy smile. “Aren’t you?”

It was such a foreign concept to him he almost laughed. He was still playing the angle that he was desperate to get home to his family so you’d give him a ride. He couldn’t tell you the truth; that he wasn’t sure anyone at his house even remembered he was coming, that Christmases in the Cameron house for the last decade were more about the pictures his father could put on the cards he sent to clients than they were about celebrating, or love. 

“Uh, yeah, ‘course,” he said, hoping you’d drop it. 

You didn’t.

“Does your family have any traditions?” 

“Like what?” He knew what you meant, but his brain wasn’t working fast enough to come up with a lie, the truth sitting on his chest in the uncomfortable way he spent his life trying to avoid.

“Like, okay,” you started. “Me and my brothers always sleep in the living room on Christmas Eve. We get all the pillows and blankets in the house and make a big pile in front of the fireplace and keep the fire going all night so we can stay up to try and catch Santa.” 

“How’s he gonna come down the chimney if you keep the fire going?” Rafe questioned logically.

“Oh Rafe, I’m so sorry I have to be the one to tell you this…but Santa isn’t real,” you placed your hand on his arm like you were trying to console him. 

He let it linger for a minute before shaking you off, “you know what I meant!” he grumbled, making you laugh. The sound was so sweet it made him dizzy.

“What else do you do?” He asked impulsively, surprising both you and himself with his desire to hear you keep talking.

“Well, you know about my mom’s cookies, and we always drink cocoa with peppermint sticks, and oh! Me and my dad used to cut down a real tree together the day after Thanksgiving- I’m sure they’ve already gotten it this year since I wasn’t home- but we’d always decorate it together, just the two of us, while listening to his old Bing Crosby vinyl.”

It sounded so nice, so idyllic and comforting, like a Hallmark card. Jealousy roared in his chest, hoping you couldn’t see it on his face as he pictured the much colder, tension filled holiday that was awaiting him.

“Didn’t Bing Crosby used to hit his kids?” He blurted out coldly, the holly jolly joy in the car becoming a little too much for him to handle.

Your face soured, lips twisted as he burst your bubble. 

“You’re a mean one, Mr. Grinch,” you mumbled. Even when he was being an ass, you were being cute. It was killing him. “Not a Christmas guy, huh?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be napping right now?” He brushed off your question.

“I don’t know, maybe you shouldn’t drive so grumpy.”

“I’ll be fine. Your thirty minutes is slipping away, though.”

“Okay fine, but don’t forget to wake me up when we cross the state line,” you reminded him.

“I know, I know. Are you always this bossy?” He snipped, his sudden coldness making you wish you’d never opened up to him about your family to begin with.

With a final, pointed look at him, you pulled the strings of his sweatshirt to cover your eyes and sank down into the seat. 

“Bah humbug,” you threw at him before drifting off to sleep.

Almost immediately, he missed the sound of your voice. 

Hour six

In your dream, you sat alone at your kitchen table, your dad’s Bing Crosby vinyl skipped on the record player as you cried over an empty plate, not a single crumb of gingerbread left…

Hour seven

The world was moving outside the windows, the early darkness of winter making the scene blurry, but you could tell the car was definitely still moving.

And Rafe was out cold in the driver’s seat.

“Oh my god!!” 

You shot up in your seat and grabbed the wheel, sure that you were about to go flying off the road any second. But the wheel was locked, and there was no engine’s rumble shaking the dash. The car was off. 

You blinked, your groggy mind finally catching up with reality. You weren’t driving, you were floating. The choppy ocean crashing against the side of the ship spraying little droplets of water on your windshield.

“Oh my god,” you repeated with a groan, this time less panicked and more pissed.

Rafe woke up with your body stretched across his lap, gripping the wheel as you groaned.

“Hi,” he mumbled with a sleepy smile, completely misreading the situation.

You sat back in your own seat and hit him on the shoulder, hard. 

“Oww, what the hell?” He sat up, rubbing his arm.

“Where the fuck are we?” You barked at him.

“We’re in your car on the way home,” he avoided the true answer. 

“I said I’d get you to the ferry…”

“And would ya look at that? You did!” He smiled sheepishly.

With scarily accurate comedic timing, the ship’s horn blared loudly, leaving no doubt.

“Rafe, we’re on the ferry!” You yelled, smacking him again.

“Would you stop hitting me please?! We were making good time and you looked so peaceful sleeping so I figured we’d just hop the ferry real quick and you’ll still make it home by six.”

You checked the time on your phone, eyes widening with realization.

“Just barely! At this rate I’ll be walking in the door at 5:58,” you argued.

“And just think of how many cookies you can eat in two minutes if you really put your mind to it,” he grinned at you. You were having none of his boyish charm this time, back to being a card carrying member of the “I Hate Rafe Cameron” club.

“I’m gonna kill you,” you mumbled.

“Okay, well can it wait until we’re on dry land? I get seasick and I want it to be a fair fight.”

He wasn’t letting up on the flirting, and you weren’t giving in. The rest of the boat ride was painfully quiet.

----❄----

“It’s just up here on the right, that metal gate,” he assured you as he approached his home, still trying to convince you that you had plenty of time.

Headlights bounced off the high white walls of his estate as the car pulled up. Your mouth hung open in disbelief.

“What is it?” He questioned.

“I knew you were probably rich, y’know based on your whole…” you gestured vaguely to him, “...thing. But holy shit.”

He grinned, “yeah it’s alright I guess.”

“Oh whatever,” you laughed. “It’s like a fucking castle!”

With a final left turn, he pulled into Tannyhill, the giant house completely dark at the end of the long drive. Rafe’s face fell slightly as he drove up, but he pushed the disappointment down when he felt your eyes on him.

“Home sweet home,” he said, feigning holiday cheer.

He put the car in park and grabbed his stuff from the backseat. You both got out, stopping in front of the car so he could hand you the keys.

“I should change so you can have your sweatshirt back,” you said.

“Nah you can give it back to me at school, I’ve delayed your schedule long enough.”

You smiled softly, giving him a grateful nod.

It was strange, you felt like you’d known him much longer than eight hours and yet you weren’t quite friends…you weren’t enemies either, but definitely not friends. How is one supposed to say goodbye to a non-enemy/non-friend? You settled on holding out your hand to shake. Rafe just looked down at your palm, huffing a laugh at the gesture.

“Well,” you shrugged, smiling back, “Merry Christmas I guess?”

He took your hand, giving it a firm shake and a squeeze, “yeah, Merry Christmas I guess.”

With a nod, you stepped around him and got back into your car, pulling up your GPS and entering your home address. So long as the ferry was still running on schedule and there wasn’t too much traffic, you’d get home with about five minutes to spare.

You put the car in reverse and got ready to back out of the driveway. You tried to keep your eyes fixed on the rearview, but you couldn’t help but steal one last look at Rafe as he walked through his front door.

Only, he wasn’t going inside. Or maybe he couldn’t go inside? He stood at the front door shaking the handle and having a very animated conversation with someone on his phone. Something wasn’t right.

Even though you knew you shouldn’t, you cracked your window slightly to hear the phone call. His back still turned to you, Rafe didn’t notice you could hear him and kept talking, loudly…

“The Bahamas? Are you kidding me?...I can’t believe you guys just left without me...well I wasn’t and then I got a ride…this could’ve been avoided if you’d just sent the jet like I asked…since when are you concerned about that?...well what the hell am I supposed to do now?!” 

The last question was said with a raised voice, aggression seeping into his tone. He made like he was about to say something else, but was cut-off, his shoulders falling as the voice on the other end got so loud that it carried all the way to your car. You couldn’t make out the words, but whoever he was talking to was clearly shouting even louder than Rafe had just been.

“Y-yes sir…I’m sorry…yes sir…no sir…okay I will…I lo-”

The phone beeped three times and the screen went black. Rafe stared down at it for a second before slipping it in his pocket and lifting a rock close to the door, retrieving a small silver key. As he raised it to the doorknob, his eyes caught yours in the reflection of the glass.

“You should get going,” he said, turning and noticing your window cracked. “You’re gonna miss your cookies.”

Fully busted for eavesdropping, you rolled the window the rest of the way down, “did they…are they not home?”

“Nah, they decided to spend Christmas in the Bahamas,” he explained.

“Oh. So you’re just gonna be here, like, alone?”

“I’ll be fine. I’m not a Christmas guy anyway, remember?” He gave you a tight lipped smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes.

“Are-are you sure? You could…” You couldn’t quite bring yourself to say it. Were you really gonna offer for him to come home with you? You barely knew him, surely you couldn’t bring him home for Christmas. 

The offer fell dead on your lips, but Rafe knew where you were going with it, the pity in your voice a little too much for his pride.

“I’m really fine,” he said, nodding his head toward the road, “you should get back on the road. You’ve got a schedule to keep”

You gave him a soft smile as you put the car back into reverse, feeling guilty the whole way out of the driveway.

----❄----

Turning the Christmas radio station up, you tried to focus on gingerbread cookies as you waited in the long car line to get back on the ferry. 

He wasn’t your friend, in fact, he was kind of an asshole to you all day. You didn’t owe him anything. Plus, he surely wouldn’t be comfortable at your little house in the country. Not when he was used to all the flash of this island, the one his family seemingly owned based on all the signs with their name on it you passed on your short drive. No, he’d be fine. You’d get your cookies and he’d be fine.

“Ma’am,” the Ferry ticketing attendant tapped on your window to get your attention. 

You sighed deeply as you looked at the big ship, then down to your GPS, telling you there was only a minute to spare if you were gonna get home on time. 

Home. Yours, warm and full of love. His, empty and dark.

“We’ve got a schedule to keep,” the attendant urged. “Are you boarding or not?”

----❄----

The house was still dark but for one light glowing through an upstairs window.

You knocked three times, Rafe’s confused face finally appearing behind the glass. He opened the door with a questioning furrow of his brow. His bag was still packed, sitting right inside the door. You reached down to grab it, throwing it over your shoulder as you said, 

“You owe me a cookie.”

(part two)

a/n: merry everything! I had so much fun writing this! There will be 3 more parts, just a lil present from me to you <3 there will be some hurt, but mostly comfort and a stocking full of fluff!

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[totalswag]

outer banks premiere and surprises — DREW STARKEY

authors note the new season is so good!!! watching part two trailer makes me even more excited. what do you guys think of it?

taglist ⤕ if you would like to be notified every time i post you will type in your username then be all set.

summary surprising drew at the outer banks premiere for season four. he thinks you are on tour but you made time to support him.

warnings cursing, mentions of flashing lights, kissing, and celebrating season four of outer banks.

You carefully walked out the car with your hand holding one side of your dress so you don’t fall. You thanked the driver with a kind smile before walking towards the red carpet with your manager. The sound of fans could be heard the closer you got.

The season four premiere of Outer Banks is tonight, and you plan to surprise your boyfriend, Drew Starkey, on the carpet. Except for Jonas and Drew's father, no one is aware of your impending arrival.

You recently started touring for your newest album― it's been an absolute blast. This night is very important to Drew and you are glad your next show is two hours away so it was perfect to surprise him and see his reaction.

You were glad to fit this surprise last minute.

When you get closer to the crowd of people butterflies form in the pit of your stomach— more so excitement and enthusiasm. Security led you through the entrance where everyone stood for pictures and fans waiting to interact with the cast.

Drew was in the middle of taking pictures in front of cameras and fans behind them— he looked so good in his suit. Few fans turned their heads when they heard security taking on the radio and their faces lit up seeing you.

Oh my gosh is that Y/N?

She’s here to surprise him watch

My parents are finally together in front of me

Drew turned his head in your direction where all the commotion was— he was in disbelief seeing you walking over to him looking stunning from head to toe. Smile forming in the corner of his lips, opening his arms for you.

"Hi baby!" You squeal softly, looking at him with affection and joy. You stand on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek— he smells wonderful with the new cologne you bought him.

"I'm so glad you are here," he says with a grin, clutching you closely to his chest.

As you two walk away, you turn around to face Drew's father, hugging him and asking how things are doing. You approached his father first about the surprise, and he was all for it.

Paparazzi wanted to capture a few shots of Drew and you together. You two couldn't take your gaze away from one other the entire time. The butterflies in your stomach had not faded the moment you arrived.

Drew and you approached fans and took pictures, signed autographs, made films, and so forth. You stayed by Drew's side the entire time rather than being the focus of attention— this is about him and his cast members. Tonight is all about him and the cast.

"I love your new album Y/N, and I'm going to your next show in two days," one fan exclaimed, tears welling up in the corners of her eyes as she looked around sixteen. "Aw, thank you so much, gorgeous—I can't wait for you to be out there," you say softly, leaning in for a big hug.

"Y/N I can't believe you are here!" Madelyn gasps in surprise, pausing in her tracks and placing her palm on her chest— jaw dropped.

You look over your shoulder, squealing with delight. "Surprise, Missy," you say aloud, raising your arms.

The rest of the cast followed, engulfing you in a frenzy of hugs and enthusiastic conversations. Drew couldn't stop smiling, and his arm never left your waist while you socialized with friends. Conversations went smoothly, with laughter resonating in the air.

"When I saw you with Drew, I was like no way that's Y/N" Chase explained as he re-created his initial reaction seeing you.

You laughed as he told you, "The only people who knew were our managers and Drew's dad." You pointed to your's and Drew's managers, then Drew's father talking to Madison. 

It was great to see everyone again and catch up on things that hadn't been mentioned. It felt like it had been years since you last saw one other. 

"You look so good tonight, baby," you nudge Drew with a quiet whisper, "too good, I might add." You smirk nonchalantly, which immediately draws his attention—dragging his hand down your back, drawing you closer to him.

"May I just say the same thing about you because I think I need an inhaler?" he asks with a flirty grin.

Inside the auditorium, they watched the first half of the show, your hand interlaced with Drew's. You could feel his joy and pleasure in the work they had all done for the new season. And he could feel your steadfast support, your presence anchored him.

Drew's performance throughout the show was incredible—he was always giving it his all and keeping in character without breaking. Rafe's character development is much more obvious this season than it was in the first. Throughout the show, you would lean into his ear— sending chills down his spine. You whispered encouraging things to him.

Shortly after the first part of the show, an announcement was made about an after-party to which everyone was invited. Obviously, everyone was looking forward to attending and celebrating.

Everyone had access to food, desserts, and drinks at the after party. Music was played while everyone sang along to the songs. This was one night to remember. Drew and the cast were ecstatic to celebrate yet another outstanding season.

You found a calm spot with Drew. He wrapped his arms around you, bringing you closer. "Thank you for being here," he whispered quietly, his eyes brimming with love. "It means everything to me."

You grinned and leaned in to kiss him gently. "There's nowhere else I'd rather be," you said quietly.

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[satorulovebot]

so scarlet it was, maroon | chapter one

✧₊⁺ pairing — satoru gojou x journalist!reader

✧₊⁺ chapter summary — you get the chance to meet the infamous gojou satoru while working on your journalism project at suzuka circuit. what could you possibly want from him?

✧₊⁺ word count — 6.3k

✧₊⁺ warnings — nsfw (minors dni), age gap, alcohol use, mature themes, mentions of cheating, substance abuse, themes of marriage and divorce

✧₊⁺ notes — hello everyone! i asked you awhile ago on a poll which series you would like to see after cursed seas and f1 gojo won the poll and then i posted the masterlist and everyone wants it so you get it now. so here it is. and NO its not happy NEVER expect happiness from me because im allergic to it. also the reader being nosy af is inspired by me and my parents telling me i should be a journalist with how nosy i am.

series masterlist // pinterest moodboard // general masterlist

next chap. the husband and his wife

You moved to Tokyo with your family when you were younger.

You grew up in a rural part of the country, surrounded by farmers and people either ready to retire or nearing the end of their lives. Your parents hated living there, and so did you—for one, there were hardly any kids to play with, and two, as your father would say, "too many old fuckers lying around."

When you moved to Tokyo, your family decided to celebrate by taking you to a Formula 1 race. Your dad thought it would be perfect for the two of you since fixing up old cars had always been your daddy-daughter activity.

You didn’t like the idea of racing at first—the noise was too loud, and the idea of people speeding toward a black-and-white checkered line seemed ridiculous. But the moment you heard the roar of the engines and watched the lights go from red to green, you were captivated, a fascination that would stay with you for years.

When you got your first computer, you began looking up videos of F1 drivers. One day, you stumbled across a video titled “The Biggest F1 Scandals in History,” and that was when you decided you wanted to go into journalism.

You were nosy, to say the least. So, it was no surprise to your parents when you announced to them that you wanted to pursue journalism as a career. Your father reminded you how you’d always been curious, listening in on others’ conversations and keeping up with the latest school drama.

When you applied for journalism school, you were accepted into one of the top programs in the world—Sophia University. Your parents were proud that you’d made it into such a highly ranked school for journalism in Japan.

You were now in your fourth and final year at Sophia, and enjoying your journalism class. Recently, your professor assigned a project: write a story about a major pop culture figure of your choice, and for extra credit, get an interview with them. Your professor knew it was damn near impossible, but he was always optimistic that one day, someone would get that interview and he could retire in peace.

That project led you here: Suzuka Circuit, Japan's main Formula 1 track. Your chosen figure was none other than Gojou Satoru—F1's biggest driver in recent years. He was your father's favorite among the new-generation drivers, known for his string of controversies since he started on top of the persistent rumors of his heavy drug use before races.

You had managed to snag a media passs from your professor when you mentioned doing an F1 driver for your project. He was able to pull some strings to get you into the media booth, getting you a closer look at Gojou Satoru in person.

You watched the pre-race preparations closely from the media booth, your fingers hovered above your notepad as you waited for the race to start. You were determined to get a good grade on this project, and that meant adding every single detail to your report about this race.

It was about time for the drivers to gather in their garages, each wearing headsets and ready for the pre-race briefing. The briefing typically covers the race start, various pit stop scenarios, and a detailed weather report. Before each race weekend, they usually spend time in a simulator of the track they'll be racing on, preparing them for the upcoming race.

After about thirty-minutes the racers came out of their garages in their respective cars. They each line up based on the results of a quaifying session that takes place before the race, slowest qualifier in the back, fastest in the front. Gojou Satoru was at the front of the grid, which meant he was one of the qualifiers who had the fastest time.

You waited around for a little while longer turning your attention to what was happening around you. Eventually, you made your way back to the front of the media booth as the race started, ready to report.

The engines revved as each driver began preparing for the start of the race, each car vibrating on the starting grid like a beast straining at its chains. Gojou sat at the front of the lineup, his hands loose on the wheel, fingers tapping in a steady rhythm as he waited for the lights to turn green.

The roar from the grandstands faded, becoming a blur of sound as the lights ticked down: red, red, red, red… green.

He slammed the throttle, feeling the raw force of the car’s engine kick him back into his seat as he tore down the straight. Other cars jostled for position behind him, all fighting to claim the inside line into the first turn.

Through his earpiece, he heard the voice of his race engineer, Shokou, calm as ever. “Clear on turn two, you’ve got five-tenths on Hayashi. Stay tight.”

But Gojou barley heard her. The car was an extension of him, responding to his every thought, every split-second decision. He pushed down the straights, his right foot heavy on the accelerator, taking corners at speeds most drivers wouldn’t dare attempt. The sound of his tires skidding against the asphalt, the blur of the track side barriers, the lights of Tokyo reflecting off his mirrors—it all blended into a single, perfect rush.

Gojou could see the next turn ahead, a tight chicane that could send the best drivers into the barriers if they weren't careful. He braked hard, turning the wheel with perfect precision to angle the car through. He could feel the back end wobbling, but he didn't flinch, drifting perfectly as he swung back onto the racing line, gaining another second on the pack.

He could almost hear the collective gasp of the crowd in his head as he slipped through the chicane. This was his playground. Every race was a chance to remind the world why he was the best.

“Coming up on a DRS zone,” Shoko’s voice crackled in his ear, grounding him, though he was already on it

He waited for the perfect moment, watching the rear-view mirror to see the faint outline of Hayashi's car. He pressed the DRS, and his car shot forward, the drag reduction giving him a temporary speed boost that had him pulling away, putting him in the lead.

The track opened up ahead, the second sector full of wide, sweeping turns. Here was where raw speed mattered more than anything. Gojou pressed down hard on the accelerator, the engine roaring in response. He leaned forward, watching the track fly by, the white lines blurring as he focused entirely on the road ahead.

For a second, the sound in his earpiece went dead, the faint sound of static filling his ears. Then Shokou was back. “You’ve got Yoshida closing in on your tail. He’s pushing hard.”

Gojou glanced up at the mirrors, his eyes catching the bright blue and orange of Yoshida's car looming larger. The familiar thrill sparked in him. So, Yoshida thought he had a chance, did he? Well, he’d show him otherwise.

“Copy,” he muttered into his mic, eyes narrowing as he took the next corner, barley touching the brakes. He felt the tires skid but he managed to control the drift, knowing any slip would open the door for Yoshida to slip past.

He whipped into another straight, his hands steady on the wheel as he hit a top speed.

His foot didn’t so much as twitch as the engine’s roar morphed into a high-pitched scream as the car closed the distance.

The curve ahead was brutal—a tight 90-degree bend that demanded precise timing.

In a split-second decision, he did something no one expected. He braked late, his heart pounding as he cut the turn at a speed that sent the back end skidding. The tires gripped just in time, allowing him to pull out of the corner without losing traction. He could almost feel the shock reverberating as he regained control, his lead still intact.

As the laps wore on, his body moved on instinct, every gear shift, every turn becoming a single, fluid motion. One lap. Two. Three, with two pit stops between. He counted them off one by one, his mind buzzing with the pure rush of speed and the heat inside the car, barely noticing the time passing. The crowd faded into nothing, the world shrinking down to the track and his car.

The final lap. This was it.

“Box this lap if you’re in trouble,” Shokou’s voice crackled again. “Tire degradation is high.”

But Gojou’s grip on the steering wheel only tightened. His front tires were holding out—barely. It would be tight, but he could make it. He’d run this last lap on sheer determination alone if he had to.

“Negative, Shokou. I’m taking it,” he replied, and then turned off the earpiece, tuning out everything except the track and the car in front of him.

He launched into the final lap, throwing caution to the wind. Yoshida was right on his tail now, close enough that he could see the gleam of his headlights in the mirrors. But Gojou didn’t back down. He took each turn aggressively, blocking Yoshida's attempts to pass, forcing him to fall back every time.

The last chicane loomed ahead, his final obstacle before the finish line. He tightened his grip, the wheel trembling under his hands. He took the chicane fast, too fast, almost feeling the wheels lift off the ground as he flew out of the turn. The car rocked, but he held steady, pushing the pedal to the floor.

The finish line was in sight, a faint white line at the end of the straight, and with one last push, he crossed it, the checkered flag waving in his periphery as he tore past.

It was only after he’d crossed over the line that the realization hit him—he’d won.

The cheers erupted in the stands, the roar of the crowd filling his ears as he slowed down, the adrenaline still pumping through his veins. He could hear Shoko’s voice crackling back in as she shouted, “You pulled it off, you insane bastard.”

Gojou grinned, leaning back in his seat, still buzzing. He’d done it again, just as he always did.

The moment he climbed out of the cockpit, Gojou was surrounded by his team. Shokou was the first to reach him, her usually composed face split by a wide grin. She grabbed his helmet and thumped him on the shoulder hard enough so he actually felt it though the layers of his suit.

“You reckless son of a—”

“Language, Shokou,” Gojou interrupted, grinning as he yanked off his gloves, waving to the rest of the Tokyo Jujutsu Racing team that swarmed him.

“Do you know what it’s like to watch you pull stunts like that? I’m gonna need a raise after today’s heart attack,” she muttered.

“Oh, come on, Shokou. That was just a little fun.” He stretched his arms over his head. “Where’s my confetti?”

“Coming right up, your royal highness." Someone handed him a bottle of champagne, still cold and slick, and he twisted the cap, spraying a wild arc of foam that showered his team and nearby fans.

His PR manager, Nanami, clapped him on the back. “You’re insufferable."

“That’s what I’m here for,” he said, lifting the champagne bottle in a mock toast, flashing him a grin. The media’s cameras clicked and flashed, capturing every moment as his crew continued their congratulations.

The crowd pressed close against the barriers, shouting his name, waving homemade banners with scribbled slogans and his number embellished with the colors red and black. He walked closer, one arm raised, acknowledging the fans, letting their cheers fill him up, louder and louder with every step.

But as he continued walking, his gaze caught on something—or rather, someone—just beyond the crowd.

At first it was just a hint curiosity, the way your gaze was fixed on him. A bit removed from the chaos, you leaned against one of the barriers with a media pass hanging around your neck, arms folded as you watched from a distance.

Gojou slightly narrowed his eyes, holding your gaze longer than he'd held any fan's tonight, as if he was daring you to look away first.

“What the hell is that about?” he muttered under his breath, gaze moving back to Shokou for half a second.

“Hm?” Shokou followed his gaze, but her eyes slid right past you, uninterested. “Press. You’ll get used to it. Come on, they’re all waiting.”

He forced himself to break the stare, clearing his throat as Shokou ushered him toward the media pen, where a lineup of journalists waited, all armed with recorders, microphones, and notebooks.

He fielded the usual questions—how did it feel to win, what was his mindset, what was he thinking on that last turn? His answers were always the same practiced ones, words sliding out like clockwork.

“Well, Mr. Gojou, what would you say to those who believe your racing style is a little… aggressive?” one journalist asked, a little smirk on her face as if she thought she was catching him off guard.

He snorted. “They can call it what they want. I call it winning.” He shrugged. “I don’t come out here to play it safe.”

A few reporters laughed at his remark, clearly interested in what else he had to say as a fresh wave of questions started.

Somewhere behind the flashing lights, he saw you again, lingering a few feet behind the crowd of reporters with that calm gaze fixed on him. You didn’t raise a recorder or a camera, didn’t even make an effort to push closer for a question. You just… watched.

It was disconcerting.

“Gojou!” Another journalist waved a microphone his face, snapping his attention back to the current situation. “What’s the next step for you this season?”

He forced a smile, eyes briefly looking back to you before he focused on the question. “The same as always,” he said. “Push harder, get faster, and give everyone something to talk about.”

The crowd laughed again, though, he barely heard them, too focused on the strange woman staring right into his soul. The two of you locked eyes and you have him a small nod, as if acknowledging that you were in fact staring into his soul.

“Well, I think that’s enough,” Shokou said suddenly at his elbow, pulling him out of his thoughts. “They’ll have plenty of time to hound you later.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he murmured, though he let her guide him away. Still, he couldn’t help glancing back over his shoulder, hoping to catch one last glimpse of you.

But you were already gone.

Gojou slipped away from the crowd, weaving through the bustling garage and dodging the congratulatory slaps on his back, the endless rounds of handshakes, and the celebratory shouts. He ducked past a few journalists, ignoring the barrage of questions still hurled his way, his smile slipping as he finally found the door to the bathroom.

Inside, the cool, sterile silence was jarring compared to the noise outside, but he let out a sigh of relief, his heart hammering in his chest. He clicked the lock and leaned against the sink, running his hands over his face, staring at his own reflection in the mirror.

The victory high had worn off, leaving behind a familiar pressure he could not cope with. It settled on his shoulders like an old, unwelcome friend.

He hadn't realized how much tension he was carrying in his shoulders, how deeply it would itself into him when he was alone. The race had been perfect, his win flawless, but he could feel the exhaustion radiating off of him, a pulsing throb being his eyes. He clenched his jaw, glaring at himself in the mirror.

“Pull yourself together,” he muttered, his voice barely audible.

But his words fell flat, swallowed up by the silence. In the mirror, his own eyes stared back at him, tired, almost hollow.

He reached into the pocket of his racing suit, fingers brushing over the small, familiar packet hidden in the inner lining. It was a stupid habit, a reckless one really, but it was one he hadn't been able to shake, no matter how many times he tried to quit. He could practically feel the temporary relief in the palm of his hand.

He closed his eyes, running his thumb along the edge of the packet before pulling it out, setting it on the counter next to the sink. He ripped it open tapping a small line onto the smooth counter top. It was like his fingers had a mind of their own, as if it was part of his routine of suiting up or gripping the wheel.

The powder glinted under the bathroom’s harsh fluorescent lights, almost mocking him with its simplicity. Just a quick escape, just enough to take the edge off. That’s all he needed.

He leaned down, closing one nostril and inhaling sharply, feeling the sting as the powder hit his nose. He straightened his back, blinking hard, the world around him sharpening as his mind cleared. A small, humorless smile tugged at his lips.

He leaned back against the sink, tilting his head up to stare at the ceiling, feeling his heartbeat slow, the tension in his muscles fading away.

But it didn’t take long for the guilt to creep back in, that hollow feeling settling in his chest, a reminder that this wasn't the answer. He knew it. He knew exactly what he was doing to himself, how he was destroying his body from the inside out, how it could all come crashing down. And yet… here he was.

“Fucking pathetic,” he muttered to himself, his voice echoing against the tiles.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door, jolting him back to reality.

“Gojou? You in there?” It was Shokou. “They’re waiting for you out here.”

He stuffed the empty packet back into his pocket, brushed the last of the substance off of the sink, and glanced in the mirror one last time to check his reflection, making sure there was no trace left of his momentary escape.

Taking a deep breath, he squared his shoulders, forced a smirk, and unlocked the door.

Shokou was standing there, arms crossed, her gaze scrutinizing as he stepped out. She didn’t say anything, but her judgmental eye lingered over him for a split second too long.

“You good?”

“Never better."

“Right,” she said, clearly unconvinced, but she dropped it, gesturing for him to follow her.

As the celebrations continued, Gojou weaved his way through fans and team-members alike who were still wrapped up in their post-race celebrations. He scanned the crowd, hoping to find the strange woman from earlier who he noticed had a press pass, thinking you would be here.

And then he saw you, leaning against a stack of crates near the garages, observing the current scene with the same judgmental eyes that Shokou had. The media badge hung from your neck, swaying slightly as you shifted your weight, pulling out a notebook and flipping through it, seemingly absorbed in what you were currently doing.

He cleared his throat as he approached, the echo of his footsteps giving his presence away.

You looked up, your brow raised as he came closer, a hint of intrigue flashing in your eyes.

“Looking for something?” you asked, not moving as he stopped in front of you.

“You could say that,” he replied, slipping his hands into his pockets, his gaze darted to the notebook in your hands. “I couldn’t help but notice you earlier, off in the shadows. Didn’t feel like joining the crowd?”

“Not my style.” You shrugged. “I’m not here to cheer. I’m here to report.”

“Journalist, huh?” he drawled, tilting his head. “What’s your angle?”

“The truth,” you said, a little smile pulling at your lips as you studied him. “Not everyone’s a fan of that, I know.”

“Depends on what you call the truth. But I’ve got a feeling you’ve already got your version.”

"How perceptive. I’m doing a piece on your racing career, your achievements, but… the public wants a fuller picture, don’t you think?

“Not sure I follow. Everyone knows what they need to know.”

“Not quite,” you replied, flipping through your notebook. “There’s more than just racing stats when it comes to Gojou Satoru, isn’t there?”

“Care to elaborate?”

“People say you’re… unraveling. Your recent ‘questionable decisions’ are starting to paint a different picture, don’t you think?” you said, tapping your pen against your notebook. “The accidents, the fines, the constant change in pit crews—”

“Is this some kind of witch hunt?” he interrupted. “Because I’d hate to disappoint you, princess, but I’ve heard it all.”

“Maybe so.” You leaned in a bit, meeting his stare. “But what about the whispers that aren’t out yet? The suspicions about you cheating the drug tests, your team shielding you—” You paused. “There’s a lot of money on your success, Mr. Gojou.”

“Money and racing have always gone hand-in-hand, don’t you think? You’d have a hard time finding someone out here who hasn’t bent a rule or two.”

“True enough.” You titled your head slightly. “But even the most golden careers have a way of losing their shine.”

"Tell me—do you enjoy tearing people down for a living?”

“Only if it’s warranted,” you replied unfazed. “People aren’t interested in perfect stories. They want the flaws, the dirt. It makes it all more real. At least that's what my professor believes."

“You’ve got a wicked mind, I’ll give you that. But I hope you realize you’re not the first to come sniffing around for the ‘real story’.”

A pregnant pause settles between you before you asked, “And what about her?”

A beat passed before he answered. “Who?”

“Your wife. She’s been… noticeably absent from the press circuits. And rumor has it things aren’t exactly picture-perfect between you two.”

“Rumor has it,” he repeated. “Guess you know how it is in this business. There’s always some rumor or another.”

“So it’s just a rumor, then? All the time apart, the missed events, her name suddenly missing from every headline. You’re saying there’s nothing to it?”

“People are eager to make stories out of nothing. My private life is just that—private.”

“That’s interesting,” you murmured, not looking away. “Because the most recent stories about you and her—they’re awfully detailed. People are noticing, wondering why she’s suddenly… disappeared from the scene.”

“Let them wonder. Like I said, people will talk. And it seems like you’re more interested in gossip than journalism.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Journalism is about uncovering the truth,” you countered. “But it seems like you’re more comfortable brushing things under the rug than addressing them.”

His smile returned, his carefully crafted facade sliding back into place as he straightened up, glancing away from you, clearly bored of the conversation. "Maybe someday you'll get the truth you're so desperate for, but it's not going to be today."

Before he walked away completely, he gave you one last look, his tone playful but laced with a hint of warning. “Be careful what you dig up, princess. Sometimes the truth’s more trouble than it’s worth.”

And with that, he turned his back to you, disappearing into the crowd.

Gojou returned home after the long night of celebrations had died down, the adrenaline from the race long gone, now replaced by a gnawing emptiness that felt like it might hollow him out. His penthouse was in the hear of Tokyo—a sleek, modern apartment with floor to ceiling windows overlooking the neon-drenched skyline.

As he opened the door, the soft him of the city below was drowned out by the sound of footsteps, His wife, Hana, appeared from the hallway, her arms crossed tightly across her chest, her eyes narrowed. She was dressed in a sleek black outfit, her dark hair pulled back, a looking a frustration etched onto her face.

“You’re late."

“Didn’t realize I was on a curfew,” he replied, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it onto a nearby chair.

“Don’t act like that.” Her eyes flashed as she followed him into the living room. “You missed the dinner with my parents again. They’ve been asking about you, wondering why you’re never around.”

“Hana, I just won a race,” he replied, exasperated. “Sorry if I wasn’t in the mood to play the doting son-in-law tonight.”

She scoffed, crossing her arms tighter. “Of course, it’s always about the race with you. Everything is about that damn career, isn’t it?”

“You knew what you were signing up for when you married me.”

“Maybe I didn’t know it would mean you disappearing for days, weeks sometimes, chasing whatever thrill you think you need to feel alive.”

“What’s your point, Hana? We’ve had this argument a hundred times.”

“The point is, Satoru,” she said, voice trembling with anger, “that you seem to care more about everything else than this marriage. I’m just a fixture in your life, something you come back to whenever you need to check a box or show face. But you’re never really here.”

He let out a harsh laugh, the bitter sound filling the apartment. "Here we go again. Hana, it’s not like you’ve been some shining example of commitment either. You’ve known what this is for months.”

“What this is?” Her voice rose, cracking slightly as she repeated his words. “What exactly is ‘this,’ Satoru? A sham? A partnership for appearances? I thought you loved me…"

“I can’t keep doing this,” she continued softly, her voice breaking. “The lying, the pretending. It’s exhausting.”

“So what do you want me to say, Hana? That I’m some perfect husband?” He gestured to himself, shaking his head with a smirk that looked almost pained. “We’re both guilty here. Let’s not act like this hasn’t been a slow-motion train wreck.”

“Fine. But do me a favor—at least act like you care when people ask. Because every time I hear some story about you, another scandal or rumor, it’s like a slap in the face. My family, my friends—everyone’s talking. They see the headlines too.”

“Fine. But do me a favor—at least act like you care when people ask. Because every time I hear some story about you, another scandal or rumor, it’s like a slap in the face. My family, my friends—everyone’s talking. They see the headlines too.”

“What do you want from me, Hana?” he asked quietly, the fight suddenly draining out of him. “You want me to pretend I’m someone I’m not?”

“I want… I wanted the man I married. The one who cared, who had dreams."

“Then maybe,” he said finally, his voice almost a whisper, “it’s time to stop pretending.”

As Gojou stood there running a hand through his hair. Hana paused, her expression shifting from something resigned to something wounded.

“And there’s one more thing."

He looked at her, brow furrowing. “Fucking Christ Hana, what now?”

“Do you think I’m stupid, Satoru?” she asked, folding her arms tightly across her chest. “I know what’s out there. The rumors. The whispers about who you’re with when you’re not here. Or maybe you think I don’t hear them.”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Hana, they’re just rumors. You know how the press is—they’ll twist anything for a story.”

“Twist what, exactly? Why do they have something to twist in the first place?”

“They don’t have anything. It’s just the media looking for something to make people read. Speculation sells.”

“Right. Speculation. But funny how it’s always about you, always linked to another woman.”

“That’s because I’m under a microscope. People love to create scandals, especially with someone like me. And you know that better than anyone.”

“It’s not just them, Satoru. People talk, and it’s not just baseless gossip. I’m not naive. I hear things from people close to you, people who actually know you.”

“You really believe them? You think I’m out there, risking everything for some—” He stopped himself, biting his tongue.

“Do I? I don’t even know my own husband anymore. Maybe I should ask them. Or maybe I should ask you directly, Satoru. Are you seeing someone?”

“Why are we even doing this?”

“Because I want the truth. Just once. I deserve that much, don’t I?”

“Believe what you want, Hana. I don’t have anything else to say.”

“Then maybe that’s all I need to know.”

Gojou stormed out of his apartment, his hands clenching and unclenching as he tried to shake off his frustration. He'd had enough for one night. His heart was pounding and the last thing he wanted was to be alone with his thoughts. He needed to get out, to drown the anger with something that could at least help him forget.

The bar he found was tucked away down a dim side street in Shibuya. It wasn't anything fancy–a dark cry from the glitzy nightlife he was used to–but it was dark and quiet which was exactly what he needed. He slid onto a bar stool and motioned for a drink, not bothering to pay attention to what the bartender poured.

He sipped his drink in silence, trying to tune out the night and all the noise in his head. The alcohol burned down his throat, but it was a welcome distraction that numbed his anger and frustration. He was almost on his third drink when he noticed someone sitting in the corner of the room, hunched over a notebook, tapping her pen against her cheek in thought.

She's cute, he thought to himself. He squinted trying to get a better look at the young woman, and he immediately recognized, it was you.

Of all the places he'd expect to see you, this shitty bar wasn't one of them. You looked so absorbed in your work, like you were piecing together something for a story. Satoru's curiosity got the better of him, and he stood up carrying his drink as he made his way over to where you were sitting.

"Well, well," he said, leaning against the back of the chair across from you. “Didn’t peg you for a bar rat, but maybe I was wrong.”

Your head snapped up, and your eyes widened slightly in surprise. “Gojou Satoru. What a surprise.”

“Mind if I sit?” he asked, already taking the seat.

“Didn’t think someone like you would end up in a place like this. Celebrating?”

He gave a dry laugh, swirling the glass in his hand. “Something like that.”

“So, what are you doing here, really? Figured you’d be at a fancy cafe, writing about some important news story.”

“Maybe I am. Research is research, even if it’s in a bar. Maybe it’s you I’m writing about.”

“So I’m your new project, huh?”

“Maybe. It’s part of this little journalism course I’m doing. We’re supposed to pick a public figure and write a profile. Someone who’s got a… colorful public image.”

“Colorful, huh?” He smirked. “Guess I’m your lucky target. Hope I make an interesting subject."

“Interesting is one word for it,” you replied, a faint smirk tugging at your lips. “What’s got you so quiet tonight? I thought you’d be surrounded by fans somewhere.”

He shrugged, taking a long sip of his drink. “Not in the mood for fans tonight.”

“Tough race?”

He laughed humorlessly, shaking his head. “Not the race. Just… life, I guess.”

“So,” he said, leaning in. “tell me about this little journalism course. You planning to make a career out of stalking poor drivers like me?”

“It’s a bit more complicated than that. We’re learning how to ‘uncover the truth’—or at least, that’s what they say. So far, it’s been a lot of digging through archives and learning to ask the right questions.”

“Right questions, huh?” He arched an eyebrow. “Let’s hear one. What would you ask me, if I were your ‘colorful public figure’?”

“Alright, Gojou. How does someone at the top of their game manage to keep it all together? All the races, the publicity, the pressure… don’t you ever feel like it’s too much?”

“Honestly?” He ran a hand through his hair, glancing away. “Sometimes, yeah. It’s not as easy as it looks, being the guy everyone thinks has it all together. But people don’t care about that part. They just want the show.”

“So you put on the show.”

“Guess that’s what it comes down to.” He laughed, but it sounded hollow even to his own ears. “People don’t want to see a guy crack under pressure. They want the image.”

“But what do you want?”

No one ever asked him that, as if what he wanted didn’t matter.

“What do I want?” he repeated, a slight smirk tugging at his lips as he tried to dodge the question. “Maybe another drink.”

I’m serious. Behind all of that… what’s left?”

“Honestly? Sometimes I don’t even know anymore. It’s like I’ve been going so fast for so long, I can’t remember what it was I was chasing in the first place.”

“Maybe that’s what you need to figure out, then.”

He looked at you, and the faintest trace of a genuine smile broke through. “Maybe.”

The two of you sat in silence, and he found himself grateful for it. You didn't press or pry at him and he thought that he could just be himself, even if it was just for a little while.

“Alright,” he said finally, nudging your notebook with his finger. “So, future journalist, you really gonna write all this down? Make me sound like some tortured artist?”

You smirked. “I’ll try to be kind. Maybe I’ll even leave out the part where you go to bars alone and pretend to be mysterious.”

“Ouch,” he chuckled, holding up his drink in mock surrender. “Noted. But I expect a copy when it’s published. Autographed, obviously.”

“Obviously,” you replied, laughing as you clinked your glass against his. “But don’t expect it to be flattering.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

As the conversation continued, Gojou found himself leaning in closer. You both let the drinks keep coming, though it was less about how much alcohol you were consuming and more about the way the words spilled more easily between you two.

“So,” you asked, taking another sip of your drink, “what’s it actually like out there? Everyone sees the fame, the money, the cars, but… what’s it really like?”

He exhaled, tapping his fingers on the edge of his glass. “Honestly? It’s… intense. There’s this high to it, this adrenaline. Nothing like it. You’re pushing yourself and everyone around you to the edge," he tilted his head. “But sometimes, it feels like the line between winning and crashing out isn’t as thick as people think. You cross it once, and that’s it—you’re done.”

“Doesn’t that scare you?”

“A little. But I’m more afraid of what happens if I stop. It’s like… I don’t know what I’d be without it. Guess that sounds stupid.”

“No, it doesn’t. I get it. When something’s all you know… giving it up is like giving up a part of yourself. Scary as hell.”

“Exactly. Guess we all have our addictions, huh?”

Shit. Did he say too much?

You didn’t push, just gave him a quiet nod. “So, what’s Tokyo Jujutsu like? It's one of the toughest team on the grid, right?”

“You know it. They’re tough as hell, no room for error. And they sure as hell won’t give you a second chance if you mess up.”

“Sounds brutal."

“Yeah, maybe. I guess I like the challenge. Or maybe I just like proving people wrong.”

“Enough about me," he continued. What about you? What’s the deal with this journalism project? Are you trying to make a name for yourself by exposing all my secrets?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Believe it or not, my goal in life isn’t to ruin yours. I actually think it’s fascinating, learning what drives people, what keeps them going, even when things get messy.”

“Messy? What makes you think my life is messy?”

“Oh, please. Gojou Satoru’s life is one headline after another. You’re practically the poster boy for drama.”

He feigned a hurt expression, placing a hand over his heart. “You wound me. I’m just a guy trying to make a living, you know?”

“Right,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Just a guy who happens to have a dozen scandals and an equal number of speeding tickets.”

“Hey,” he laughed, leaning back in his chair. “I’m a professional, okay? That’s all part of the job.”

The two of you continued to chat into the night. Gojou found himself relaxing, caught up in the rare comfort of talking with someone who didn’t expect him to play a part. He could just… be.

At some point, the bartender announced last call, and Gojou glanced at you, smirking. “Guess that’s our cue.”

You stretched, gathering your notebook and tucking it under your arm. “Thanks for the, uh, ‘research material.’ It was… enlightening.”

He laughed, standing and grabbing his coat. “Anytime. But don’t go making me look like a complete asshole in your little project, alright?”

“No promises."

Outside, the air was crisp as he faint hum of city traffic the only sound as you stood together on the quiet street. Gojou slid his hands into his pockets, looking at you.

Outside, the air was crisp as the faint him of the city being the only sound as you stood together on the quiet street. Gojou slide his hands into his pockets, looking at you.

“Maybe we’ll run into each other again."

“Only if you’re brave enough to handle more questions.”

“Oh, I’m plenty brave. But we’ll see if you’re as good at digging as you think.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing as you turned to leave, throwing him a casual wave. “Goodnight, Mr. Gojou.”

“Goodnight,” he echoed, watching as you disappeared down the empty street.

In that moment he realized, he never did catch your name.

© satorulovebot 2024 please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my work.

[starkwlkr]

pretty in pink | logan howlett

an: this comes straight from my delusional mind

dad!logan (you can choose if you want this to be an old man logan fic!!)

All week your daughter, Ada, had been reminding everyone about her sixth birthday that was coming up. She made sure you and Logan marked it on every calendar in the house. During dinner, all she talked about was her pink princess themed party.

“And the cake has to be pink!” She said for the hundredth time. She sat in her chair at the table completely forgetting she was supposed to be eating her spaghetti.

“We know, bub. You told us everyday before and after school.” Logan said.

“I told the girls in my class to come too. They said they wouldn’t come because we’re freaks.” Her excitement about the party died down.

Laura, now a teenager, gave her sister an encouraging smile. “They’re the freaks. You’re the coolest girl in school. That means we get to have all the cake.” That earned a laugh from Ada. Logan chuckled, it warmed his heart to see his daughter’s bond.

“Your party is going to be the best, my love,” You stood up and grabbed your and Logan’s plate that were now empty. “Finish up and then get ready for bed, both of you.” You walked to the kitchen sink and began to wash the dishes.

Laura immediately challenged Ada to see who could finish their spaghetti first. After a scolding from their parents, Laura let Ada win. Soon, the sisters raced upstairs to get ready for bed.

As you and Logan finished cleaning, you couldn’t help but think about your little girl. Your sweet innocent little girl didn’t deserve to be called a freak. Your thoughts were interrupted when a car pulled up to your driveway. You weren’t expecting anyone, especially not at this hour.

“Stay here.” Logan said to you after he wiped his hands on a dish rag. He walked out the door ready to confront whoever it was. The car’s headlights were blinding him, but once he heard the familiar voice call his name, he put away his claws.

Inside you were still wondering who it was. Before you could join Logan outside, Ada had run down the stairs already in her princess pajamas.

“Mommy, who’s outside?” She asked you. Her question was answered when Logan walked in with Rogue by his side. Ada screamed in excitement when she saw her other sister. “You’re here! You’re here!” The little girl ran to Rogue and gave her a welcoming hug.

“I wouldn’t want to miss your princess party.” Rogue picked up the girl.

“Are you going to sleep in my room? Dad got some new books for me!”

“Oh you bet we’re going to stay up all night reading those books! I’ll be up in a few, let me talk to mom and dad for a sec,” Rogue set her down. The adults watched as Ada happily skipped up the stairs to her room. “Alright, what’s wrong?” She looked at you and Logan.

“What? Nothing wrong, why are you asking?” Logan asked surprised by her question.

Rogue knew she wasn’t going to get a straight answer from Logan so she looked at you. You sighed and told your daughter the truth. You were nervous about Ada’s party. A few of her classmates did tell her they were attending, but you were convinced they were only coming to make fun of her and ruin her big day.

“Those little shits ain’t going ruin my girl’s party.” Logan added.

“Honey, those little shits are first graders.” You corrected him.

“Little shits or not, Logan’s right. This is Ada’s party and she’s going to have the best damn princess party in the world.” Rogue declared. Before she left, she gave you and Logan a kiss on the cheek then walked up the stairs to Ada’s room.

Logan noticed that you still had a concerned look on your face. “Hey, Ada is going to be okay.”

“I just don’t want my little girl to get hurt.” You said.

“I won’t let anything or anyone hurt any of my girls.” Logan reminded you.

With that, you and Logan finished cleaning and went up to Laura’s room to say goodnight. As you reached Ada’s room, you saw her and Rogue already asleep. You quietly took the book out of Rogue’s hand and put it back on the bookshelf then adjusted the blanket over your daughters. You gave them both a goodnight kiss and left the room.

In the morning, Ada was the first to wake up. She ran to yours and Logan’s room as fast as she could and jumped on to the bed screaming that it was her birthday. Logan groaned since she had landed on his stomach.

“Wake up! It’s my birthday!” She giggled as Logan sat up and brought her into his arms.

“How old are you today? Eighty? Ninety seven?” He watched as Ada’s smile dropped.

“No, that’s you!”

You were trying so hard to hold in your laugh, but failed. Logan playfully rolled his eyes. It was Ada’s day, he wasn’t going to get mad at her on her special day.

“Okay birthday girl, I believe your sisters promised a special birthday breakfast just for you.” Logan told Ada.

The now six year old gasped as soon as she heard ‘special breakfast’. She immediately jumped off the bed and ran downstairs to the kitchen where Laura and Rogue were making breakfast.

Logan sighed deeply and rolled over to his side, his eyes meeting yours. “Remember . . . Everything is going to be okay today.”

You hummed in response.

Eventually you and Logan joined the girls in the kitchen. Laura and Ada were throwing grapes into each others mouth while Rogue laughed at them failing miserably. Ada had thrown a grape so far from Laura that it hit Logan’s head when he walked in.

“Ada! You hit an elderly man!” Rogue teased.

“Kids.” Logan rolled his eyes yet again.

As a family you all sang happy birthday to Ada as Rogue placed a stack of pancakes topped with whipped cream and Ada’s favorite fruits. The little girl’s smile brought joy to her family.

“Wait, let me get the camera!” You ran to the cabinet that had random items inside. You grabbed the camera and snapped a couple of pictures of your girls and Logan.

It was a beautiful start to a beautiful day.

As the day went on, Rogue and Laura helped decorate the backyard with princess themed decorations. Ada was too busy running around in her pink princess dress to help. Logan was inside blowing up balloons until members of the x-men started showing up.

“Is that the big bad wolverine in a plastic tiara?” Scott Summers chuckled at the sight of Logan wearing a tiara that Ada had given him.

“Watch it, I don’t want you bleeding all over my daughter’s party when I—” Before Logan could finish, Ada joined them with more tiaras in hand. She gave one to every member telling them they couldn’t enter her party if they didn’t wear it.

And that’s how Scott Summers ended up with a plastic pink tiara on his head.

Ada was enjoying her party so far. A couple of classmates did end up attending. You saw as they played on the swing set that Logan had bought for Ada for her last birthday.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Logan said as he stood beside you.

“Hey,” you relaxed more when he was close to you. “Did you see the big box Storm brought for Ada? I bet it’s a big doll house.”

“You’re wrong. It’s definitely a large case of beer for me and you to enjoy when our girls are passed out.”

You chuckled. “After this, no more parties until next year.” You placed a kiss on his lips.

“Whatever you say . . .” He got another kiss in before Ada came running to you with a butterfly knife in hand and the biggest smile on her face.

“Mommy! Daddy! Uncle Wade got me a pretty knife!”

“Uncle Wade?!” “What the fuck!” You and Logan yelled at the same time.

“Hey mommy milf dearest! Peanut! Guess my invite got lost in the mail . . . again. I’m starting to think it’s on purpose. Harsh! Whatever, hey kids! Who wants to learn how to use this baby!” He held up his gun.

“Wade, No!”

[klausysworld]

Hi could you write some angst about a deeply insecure reader who hates her appearance and is sort of friends with Elena and everyone(pushed to the side kind of relationship)but when klaus comes around it’s clear that she has a crush but believes he’s out of her league then klaus uses it to his advantage by showing an interest in her for information and helps her with her self worth.klaus then starts to develop feelings for her but then it’s revealed that he was just manipulating her and reader is devastated and utterly humiliated and it sets her back to how she was before him.(sorry if that was a really long explanation,you can decide the ending)thanks I love your writing btw

Real

Growing up in Mystic Falls is a bizarre experience.

There were town events almost every month where you had to dress up and act better than everyone, parents basically had a competition over who had the prettiest daughters or the most handsome sons.

Not my parents.

They didn't think I was good enough to even pretend that I could compete. I was told my worth from a young age and became more aware of it with time. When your own parents don't think you're good enough it's sort of an eye-opener if you will.

It didn't help that everyone in this town seemed to be born into modelling.

Somehow I was lucky enough to wind up 'friends' with people like Elena, Caroline and Bonnie but I knew I didn't belong with them. Somehow they were gorgeous enough to get whatever they wanted.

Sometimes I wondered if everyone else at the age of 17 looked like them and I was behind or if somewhere, I was above average. I doubted it. A lot.

Occasionally I would look at a mirror and think that I wasn't even that bad to look at. There was nothing particularly ugly about me, there just wasn't anything special. I looked plain in a way, bland and forgettable.

I was very forgettable actually. My 'friends' made that abundantly clear throughout the years when they would go out without me or forget to ask if I also wanted something or liked something.

Somehow I was of no value to them. Perhaps I was simply there to amplify their beauty. Like a DUFF. I was definitely the DUFF.

Damon actually told me that I was once, after Tyler had made the joke and Damon asked what it meant. Even though I already knew it to be true, to be told it was much worse.

You could sort of tell everyone else was thinking it, especially when I was stood beside Caroline.

Stefan was the only one who was nice but I wasn't sure if it was out of pity or just because that was who he was. Then again, I'd rather just not know.

So I tried my best to keep in the background, avoid attention and stay out the way.

Even with all the vampire and werewolf drama that took course, I kept myself quiet and to the side. Strangely it was Katherine who was kind to me, whether she had an ulterior motif I'm not so sure anymore but she never hurt me in the time she was there. Neither did Elijah when he came to town, he was polite to everyone but it was obvious that my presence was irrelevant to him.

And then of course, Klaus arrived.

I didn't officially meet him until the senior prank night, he sort of just threw to the side and told me to keep my mouth closed and not to bother running because he'd just kill me. Part of me thought about running anyway so he would just end it but I didn't.

Klaus dragged me by my wrist into his car, told me to keep quiet while he drove Elena to the hospital. For whatever reason he brought me along and left me in the car as he went to drain her of blood for his hybrids. I did as told: sat silently and waited.

He came back out and spoke to Damon for a moment, I saw them glance over in my direction only for Damon to laugh and smirk. I sighed to myself and got out the car. It was clear that Klaus thought I could be a good pawn but was surly mistaken and Damon told him to do whatever he wanted to me. In response I walked home, neither noticed so it was fine.

A week or so later he came back, crashed homecoming or something? I dunno, I wasn't there but I was told about it the next day via a stroppy Caroline.

It was that same day that he came and sat beside me at the grill. I ignored him for the most part, confused by his attempt at what I could only guess was flirting? I wasn't really sure. I think he could tell.

"Not easily impressed are you love?" he questioned as he leant forward, uncomfortably close. I sort of just looked at him, still unsure to what he wanted. A smirk pulled at the end of his lips and his hand lifted, his fingers wrapping around a piece of my hair making frown and pull away abruptly. Without hesitation I stood up and spun on my heel, going to leave. His laugh followed me and a hand grabbed my waits, it was stange.

"Calm down love, It's not like I was going to rip it out, I just wondered what it felt like" he chuckled, pulling my back flush against his front making me tense and squirm.

"It feels like hair" I stated simply "Now get off" I grunted, shoving my elbow into his side to make him let go. I kept walking, keeping my eyes on the ground.

The next time I saw him he apologised for the previous encounter which again, i didn't understand but there was no point in questioning and arguing so I just accepted it and tried to leave but he asked if I'd stay for one drink, he asked so nicely and he smiled. I was stupid enough to think it was genuine and accepted.

Looking back it was pretty obvious that this was a game for him or a trap, whatever you want to label it but in the moment I ignored what was right in my face. Deep down I knew it was all a joke of sorts really.

But no boy, let alone a man had shown me this sort of attention and the soft fluttering it made me feel had me staying for far too long. I listened to his little stories and asked a range of questions as the drinks kept coming. He asked a couple about me but i gave relatively vague answers. There wasn't much I had to give him on me, I wasn't up for a pity party about friends and I didn't really fancy talking about my shitty parents either. I think Klaus picked up on the fact that I didn't really want to talk about me and eventually gave up with it.

It was late when I realised I needed to get home and he offered to take me which I admit made me wary. I didn't want him to kidnap me and think I'd be any good as leverage again, though I guess Damon made that pretty clear already. I decided to just walk home which he eventually accepted and got into his car.

Walking by myself probably wasn't my best option after drinking so much in one go but I made it home with minimal stumbling. My mother shook her head when she saw me and asked what was wrong with me. When she realised I had been drinking her mind jumped to two very different conclusions. The first being that I was being a slut which was ironic as in the past she'd made it clear that no guy would want to sleep with me, and the second being that I had taken pills to kill myself.

Listening to her drastic thinking made me wonder what kind of pills she was on but I didn't question it and waited for my father to come and take her to bed, telling her to just ignore me. Then I proceeded to make my way to the bathroom, getting changed and washing my face before going to my bed.

My phone dinged making me sigh, thinking it was Elena asking me to help her with something dumb and life threatening however much to my surprise it was Klaus. A smile involuntarily spread across my face and we messaged back and forth before he told me to rest.

The following few days he would just check in. Not too much but he also made it clear that he hadn't forgotten me which was all I had ever truly wanted from someone. To be acknowledged at the very least.

Of course I didn't tell the others that he had been talking to me, besides they didn't ask so I didn't see why I should. I guess I just wanted something for myself.

I wasn't completely stupid. I always had the feeling that he was using me, especially towards the start...but he was just so wonderful with his words and his ways.

When he began to make and buy sweet gifts and claim they were tokens of his affection, I couldn't help the blush on my face. When he would find a way to have his skin against mine, or how he would pick up my hand and gently tug my along. Somehow we always seemed to end up somewhere for food, and he would always refuse to let me pay.

Something about him was so enticing, addictive if you will.

He began to make me feel a certain way. He made me warm and happy. His touch was so soft, it made me feel like I was buzzing. i was stupid for thinking he could feel the same way about me.

I had been so scared to admit my feelings.

He had assured me that he would never push me to.

He told me that he liked me, that he didn't want me to be frightened of him or nervous around him. "Not unless it's the sort of nervous that puts butterflies in your stomach sweetheart" he had teased and my cheeks had glowed red.

Over the space of months his presence never lessoned. He always made time to see me, and speak with me. I found myself longing for his voice, his touch.

On days where he was too busy at home, he would urge me to come over. I would spend as long as I possibly could with him, a few times I even stayed over but he had slept on top of the duvet so that I would feel comfortable.

This had gone on for a small while until he actually said the words 'I love you'.

Perhaps I was just so happy to actually hear those words. Maybe I believed them to be true, real. Or I just saw what I wanted to see, heard what I wanted to hear and ignored the rest.

The time I gave myself to him used to make my smile and blush. Now it just makes me feel dirty, humiliated and embarrassed.

Knowing that he could and has had his hands all over my body, his lips and eyes. In the moment I felt like a goddess, probably because that’s what he told me I was. The memory of him inside me haunts me. I had thought it to be such a beautiful experience, romantic and personal.

I wish I could say that I had slept with him only once but as the months went by we would share intimacy often.

I had even told him that I loved him, so many times and I meant it for all of them.

So you should understand why it was so hard to accidentally hear him tell his sister that he had been compelling me for any information on the others.

It had felt as though my heart had stopped when the words hit my ears and tears already made my eyes burn. I heard a weak laugh and turned my head to see Damon, strung up by chains whilst bleeding all over, looking straight back at me.

“Y/n…” I heard Klaus’s voice, his tone one of panic or maybe it was just surprise. He probably didn’t want me to know of his routine. Damon only rolled his eyes and gave me look,

“You didn’t…think it was real, right?” He coughed, a cruel smile on his face.

His words just made me quieter. They made me think. Why did I think it was real?

My eyes slowly lifted to meet Klaus’s. I could see and feel Rebekah looking at me, everyone was silent. Even Damon shut up for a second. I think maybe he was expecting me to say something but I didn’t really have anything to tell him.

As awful as it all made me feel, and even with the amount of emotions swallowing me, I felt more disappointed in myself than I did him.

My right hand went to my left arm, pinching my skin through my jumper in some sort of hope that I’d wake up from some stupid nightmare but it didn’t work.

The first tear fell from my eye and I sniffed to keep the other ones from coming.

Klaus just looked at me, I couldn’t tell what he was thinking, I didn’t want to know either. I could just guess anyway.

So without a word I just turned around and left, walking quickly back out the door before breaking into a sprint in the direction of my house. I could feel the mascara running down my face, ruining the foundation I had only recently started wearing, for Klaus’s benefit.

My hands wiped at the tears as I pushed my from door shut behind me and went upstairs, blocking out the annoyed voices of my parents and locking myself in my room.

It was only once I was in the shower that I was flooded with memories. That I remembered all the things I had done with him. By the time I stepped out of the bathroom my skin was scrubbed raw in an attempt to wash his touch away. Even the slightest touch made me feel as though my body was burning, stinging with pain but I would have rather felt that every day than have to realise Klaus had been using me for over a year now.

I was curled in my bed, hidden under the blankets and surrounded by the dark as I let every comment not matter how small or petty play back through my mind.

I wasn’t even sure who to be upset with. I chose myself.

Klaus must’ve known I was an easy target. Desperate. I wonder how much he’s had me tell him. To be fair I knew more than you’d expect about what was going on. I had gotten good at observing and overhearing so I still knew what was going on, even when spending so much time with Klaus himself.

I also wondered what else he had compelled me to do. I hoped he wouldn’t do anything other than ask questions but I couldn’t help that fear creep inside me. It made me sick to my stomach, and then I wondered if he would just wait to compel me again so that I could continue to be his information feeder.

The idea made my fingers dig into my arm, bruising the skin purple but I wouldn’t stop. I only did so that I could go get some vervain that I kept downstairs in one of the cupboards at the back. I was reaching for the little glass bottle when I heard a door close. I spun around quickly to see Klaus in the doorway of my kitchen. My hand clutched onto the vervain tightly and I noticed his eyes glance at it briefly. His hands went up as if to show no harm but there was no way I would believe that meant a thing.

“Sweetheart- listen to me..” he began and I let out a breathless laugh

“Get out” I whispered making him sigh and frown as though he had the audacity to be upset or annoyed.

“Y/n..”

“No Klaus. I’m fucking serious, get out.” I told him, my eyes watering again. I let out an involuntary whimper when he stepped forward making him stop and stand still.

“I never meant for you to know that” he whispered and I frowned, swiping a tear away.

“Sorry I ruined your plan” I mumble, exhausted.

“No- no I didn’t mean it like that- I meant that-“

“Klaus it’s fine” I murmur, avoiding his eye, “It’s fine, I get it. You needed to know what was happening, you got to be two steps ahead. I’d appreciate if you just found someone else now please”

I could feel his stare on me, it make my skin itch and I just needed him to go. I could feel my hand getting clammy as I held onto the bottle.

“I haven’t compelled you in such a long time” he muttered, as though maybe that made it better. “I used to, but I truly have fallen for you Y/n. I love-“

“Please get out” I cut him off, my spare hand resting on my forehead to cover my eyes.

“I love you”

“No you don’t” I cry, “you wouldn’t do this to someone you love. I know you don’t love me. You never have and you never could. You’re just pretending again so I’ll let you control me, I don’t like it” I whimper, tears streaming again. I could hear him getting closer but I was already against the counter and I couldn’t out run him. There was no point in trying.

“Sweetheart, I’ll never use you again-“ he tried to argue but I couldn’t listen to it.

“I really, really need you to leave. Please Klaus just get out, I can’t stand you” I tell him honestly and for a second as I look up at him, he looks almost sad but I have to assume it’s still apart of his act.

“You- you’re not going to do anything…anything harmful are you? To yourself, I mean.” He asked and I felt a wave of embarrassment wash over me. I should never have told him that I’d had those thoughts or feelings once. I shouldn’t have ever said a word to him.

“No…now go away” I whisper, my hands trembling as I stared at the ground, listening to his footsteps eventually get further away.

I knew there was no way I could sleep, he was probably still outside my house. Waiting.

I wasn’t sure what he was waiting for but I could him there.

I had no idea what I was going to do.

[nathaslosthershit]

A Much Needed Interview (OP81)

(Part 2 of Teen Dad) Summary: After the shock of Oscar revealing himself to be a former teen dad, he joins an interview in the hopes of clearing everything up and limiting the overwhelming amount of questions he has been getting.

“Oscar, it is nice of you to sit down with us. I know it has been an interesting few weeks for you and your family. How are you guys all doing?” The interviewer asks.

‘Yeah, y’know, I had expected to one day have to open up about it all, but I never thought I’d have to do it the way I did. It has been fine, obviously my kids are young enough to not be impacted because they aren’t on social media, but it has been strange for my fiancée who is now getting hundreds of requests on her private account. I have sort of decided to take a break from social media because the response has been overwhelming and like none before. Mostly positive but I think a few people have gotten the wrong idea so I was hoping to clear everything up.” Oscar rambled. He was more nervous about this interview than any he had done before.

“Of course. Why don’t we start at the beginning, how did you and your fiancée meet?”

“We actually met at one of my races. She went to support one of her close friend’s brothers. After the race that I sadly didn’t do too well in, I saw her with her friend and I was kinda frozen in my spot, immediately head over heels. Sadly, it seems like everyone but her noticed. I was too scared to do anything so I just watched her leave. I think I sulked for days, totally regretting my decision to do nothing. A totally heartbroken 16 year old. I looked for her every single race until she finally came back a few months later.”

“Oh please tell me you finally got the confidence to shoot your shot.”

“Nope! I just stared at her and stuttered when she caught me looking then ran off. I then had an amazing race, I think part of me was just trying to make up for the embarrassment and luckily it seems my car got the memo. After the race she came up to me and asked for my number.” God, he was blushing profusely at the memory. He knew he would be getting slack for this for a very long time. 

“Such a story! The young Oscar Piastri was no ladies’ man.”

“He was absolutely not. Soon after we started dating.” Oscar awkwardly laughed, sensing what was about to come up.

“And then kids came shortly after?” The interviewer asked with care in his voice, certainly able to sense Oscar’s change in attitude.

“Yeah. Uh, obviously not planned. I don’t think many people plan to become parent’s at 18. It was a shock… I didn’t handle it the best at first, something I think I will always regret. She was scared and while so was I, I should have been more supportive. I was embarrassed for a while. Felt like a total idiot. I didn’t tell anyone outside of my family and made them swear to secrecy. I also began to isolate myself from friends because I couldn’t bring myself to tell them but also felt terrible lying. A few months in I finally snapped myself out of it and began to focus on all the wonderfulness that was to come. I loved her more than anything and I would be lying if I said I hadn’t already imagined a life together in great detail. By the time we found out it was twins, a boy and a girl, I was ecstatic.”

“Well mate, I don’t blame you for your feelings. I definitely would have been a terrible father at 18 so I salute you.” The interviewer joked.

“Honestly, I had the same thought for a while, even when I was excited to have kids. I had so many doubts about it, I mean how could I not? But when it came down to it, I couldn’t afford to be anything less than a great father. Of course I had my moments, and still do years later, but I wouldn’t be able to let myself be anything less than I am. If you love your kids enough, you find a way.”

“How did having kids so young impact your career? Obviously it didn’t hurt it too much considering you are in your second year driving in Formula 1.”

“Well, I decided I wouldn’t advertise my situation unless a team was very serious about me. Prema knew, Alpine did too and of course McLaren does. All were welcoming and accommodating, as much as they could be. I don’t think I would have gone with any of them if they weren’t cool with it though. I realized the minute my kids were born I would give it all up for them, which scared the hell out of me.”

“That is admirable. All these years later you are still with their mother, correct?”

“Yes! I asked her to marry me over break. Everyone close to us had been confused as to why it took so long but we had discussed marriage together many times and made the decision that because our relationship moved so fast with having kids so young, we would wait a bit. I mean, we are still young but I honestly couldn’t wait any longer. She is everything to me and the most wonderful mother my kids could have.”

“Have your kids been around the paddock yet? I assume they are old enough to understand what you do.”

“They have been to the factory and come with me to meetings when we haven’t had a sitter for them. Luckily, they are both very well behaved in public, they also really like watching the races on tv and have somewhat of an understanding of what I do. They don’t believe I actually drive the car though.” Oscar rumbled. Trying to convince his twins that yes, their father actually does drive the cars they see going super fast, has been an ongoing issue. They seem to believe he is tricking them but have no problem believing Uncle Logan and Uncle Lando drive the cars. It has definitely humbled him immensely.

“Well you will have to fix that soon huh? Will they be attending races in the future?”

“I am trying to work that out with my fiancée actually. They are almost four so we don’t want them traveling too far, I also don’t believe they will be able to be entertained solely by the race the entire time so we have a lot to deal with. But I think seeing them on the paddock supporting me will be one of the best moments of my life. I selfishly can’t wait for them to come.”

The interview wrapped up shortly after that. Getting to reminisce on the start of his relationship and how far they have come and how many wonderful things are in the future put Oscar in a deliriously happy mood. He couldn’t wait to get home to his family. 

Walking through the door, he was immediately welcomed to the sound of toddler meltdowns. Fully entering the house, he saw his very tired fiancée rubbing her face as she tried to calm her babies down. Clearly this had been going on for a while.

Despite how upset she looked, she immediately perked up at seeing Oscar had returned. But that immediately went away as she remembered the screaming kids and how messy the house and herself were.

“Sorry honey, I know you are probably so tired after the interview and meetings earlier and these two missed their nap so they are so cranky and I just-” He cut her off with a kiss. Once he pulled away she looked at him, perplexed. A kiss from Oscar was never unwelcome but it was the last thing she expected at that moment.

“Hey, look at me.” He said as he put a hand on her cheek. “I love you and our little family so much and you never, ever have to apologize for something as trivial as this. Why don’t you go get in the bath and relax a little and I will try to wrangle these two, okay?” 

In her eyes, Oscar had never been hotter than he was now. Now it was her turn to surprise him with a kiss, even more passionate than the first. They would have continued if it hadn’t been for more screaming from their two kids.

Still, Oscar wouldn’t change a thing.