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[tw1sters]

Refire (Part Two)

When Luca left four years ago, he took your heart with him and left you with a decision that changed your entire life. When he finally returns, rebuilding what you had is a little harder when you have a daughter he doesn't know about. A daughter who belongs to him.

▸ PAIRING: Chef Luca x F!Reader ▸ WARNINGS: NSFW 18+ mostly due to making out (no explicit sex scenes), hurt/comfort, reader is a big scaredy cat, some angst, amelia's personality inspired by morgan stark (marvel) but race is neutral/ambiguous <3 ▸ WORD COUNT: 10.5K ▸ A/N: second and last part!! i love luca sm i hope you've enjoyed this heavily self indulgent story. let me know if there are additional snippets you want to see from this lil family! Read part one here

—

Courage is admittedly not part of your list of best personality traits. Dodging Luca becomes a sport when he’s constantly blowing up your phone after you blow him off over texts. His requests to talk are met with sorry, busy or let me find some time only to never return with a time. It’s childish, you know, but you don’t know how you’re going to deal with these questions. 

The man knows where you live too. 

Your parents are tasked with picking Amelia up from Pre-K everyday so you successfully avoid him at the house by camping out at your parents’ until a late enough time or sometimes even staying over. Your mother questions this – in all her years raising Amelia, you’ve never wanted to burden them more than necessary, which means taking Amelia home almost immediately once you get off work. But now you’re practically half moved in as you look at your phone in paranoia. 

Amelia doesn’t mind it. She loves her grandparents because they spoil her rotten and she lets them do it. She is sharp enough not to raise the fact that you only started doing this when she met Luca. She likely knows that Luca isn’t a bad man, her mom is just a fucking coward. 

It’s ridiculous at this point. You can’t avoid your home forever, nor should you. You just need to figure out what to say to Luca that doesn’t make you seem completely insane for not telling him all these years that you have a daughter. 

By the second week, you’re exhausted with this attempt. The calls have dwindled down and the texts are far enough apart that you think you’ve finally worn him down. But just like a lion waiting to jump on its prey, Luca catches you when you least expect it.

When you realize on Tuesday night that you’re out of work clothes for the week, you have to make a pit stop at home. Your car slows to a quiet roll in your neighborhood as your eyes look around, trying to spot Luca’s car. The vehicle isn’t in sight. Maybe it’s safe now. 

You hold your breath all the way to your door and only let out a sigh when you’re past the threshold. The house is quiet. Ever since your pregnancy, this place has been filled with constant noise. First, it was the nonstop screaming at the early hours of dawn, then it was the excited chattering the moment Amelia began to speak. It’s eerie without all the chaos. 

Making your way towards the stairs, you walk slowly but screech to a halt when you see two figures in your living room. What the fuck. 

“Bec?” You squint and the second person turns around, sending your heart straight through to the ground. “Luca?” You squeak a little quieter. 

“Told you she would be back at some point,” Rebecca smirks. 

“Thanks for letting me in,” Luca says, sounding doubtful still. The two have never met. He just blindly trusted a stranger who might’ve broken into your home. 

Rebecca gets up and approaches you, patting you on your shoulder. “Before you get upset, you two need to talk. I’m sorry for throwing you under the bus here but I think he genuinely cares about you and just wants an honest conversation.”

“Bec,” you hiss, “a little warning would’ve been nice.”

“I know, but this had to happen sooner or later. You can’t avoid him forever.”

You could try. 

“I’m just a phone call away if you need to chat, but honestly, he seems like a good guy. You’re in good hands.”

He is. You know he is. That’s why you can’t do this. Rebecca offers one last reassuring smile before she’s out the door, clicking it shut behind her. Silence bathes the room as Luca stares at you and you’re staring at the dead television screen. 

“You’ve been avoiding me,” Luca points out the obvious. “Why?”

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips. Suddenly, your throat feels scratchy, your mouth dry. “I didn’t know how to talk about it.”

Luca mulls over this before continuing. “Because you were worried about what I was going to say?”

“Yes. Or what you were going to make me explain to you.”

He rises to his feet, his movements abrupt enough to make you take a step back, ready to run again. Luca looks slightly hurt by that reflex, staying glued to his spot a mere few feet away from you. “If it helps, I can start.” 

You purse your lips and nod. 

“At the risk of sounding like a toxic man and making this about me, I was surprised, yes, that you have a daughter that you never told me about. All those years over the phone, you could’ve told me, but you didn’t. You don’t owe me anything, you don’t have to tell me anything – I understand that. I just… wish you did.” He takes a deep breath. “And it’s not that you lied, because technically you didn’t. I was a little hurt, if I’m honest. Actually, more than a little. What I don’t understand is that how— how do you still consider me your friend when you didn’t tell me this? When you couldn’t tell me this? When you couldn’t trust me with this big part of your life?

“At the end of the day, you shared what you were comfortable with and maybe you just weren’t comfortable enough with me to share the news.”

You sigh, rubbing your arms and gesturing for him to take a seat. You seat yourself next to him. There is enough distance between you that he can’t reach you. Luca would try to comfort you, reassure you that it’s okay, but him doing that may be the final straw that has you breaking down in tears. “It’s not that I wasn’t comfortable – technically. It just didn’t feel like the right time. You were off to do this big, beautiful thing and I didn’t want you to worry about me.”

“I’m always going to be worried about you. That comes with the territory of being a friend.”

“But I didn’t want you to,” you press.

“What if I wanted to? Isn’t that my choice to make?”

“I wanted you to focus on chasing those dreams because I loved to hear how well you’re doing, how it was all worth it to pick up your life to go there.”

Luca runs his hand through his hair. “It was — worth it for a while. At the end of the day, a restaurant is a restaurant.” 

“You were at the restaurant.” 

A bitter laugh bubbles up his throat. “Yeah so what? What’s the point in making it there if my best friend can’t even trust me?”

You wince and he immediately looks remorseful.

“I just— I wish you told me. I can’t turn back time and that’s fine. Now that I do know, I want to know if you’re comfortable sharing more with me. If you’re willing to trust me with it. And if you don’t trust me… or want anything to do with me really, that’s—” he pauses, breath hitching in his throat as he looks at you and swallows. “I’ll accept whatever your terms are. I care about you, I just want you to know that.”

There are no words that you can use to make up for all the lost time. You suffered in silence but you had people around you who held you up and carried you forward. Luca could’ve been one of those people but you chose for him. You chose to exclude him so his feelings are understandable. 

“Luca, it’s not that I don’t trust you,” you say softly, placing a hand on top of his. “I do. You’re one of my best friends, I hope you know that. Honestly, it was just such a tough time for me. My parents weren’t too happy but they came around. Obviously, Rebecca you’ve now met. She’s fucking fantastic, god knows I wouldn’t be here without her. But it was just so hard during that time. It’s a lot easier now. There are always ups and downs but it’s been good. Amelia’s been good. Great even.”

“Let me help you then. I’ve missed out on so much already with you. Amelia seems— she seems absolutely wonderful. I want to know more about her, about you.”

Laughing under your breath, you nod. “I can do that. What do you want to know?”

“We’ll start with how old she is.”

“She’s four.” He does the math in his mind and you can see the realization begin to sink in with how wide his eyes are and how his lips part.

You quickly blurt out, “She’s from someone else. I mean, it was after you left.” The lie tastes bitter on your tongue, but you can’t drop that bomb on him tonight. Not now. Maybe not ever. 

His shoulders sag slightly. There’s a look on his face you can’t comprehend but, before you can process it, he’s already continuing. 

“And the father, he—”

“He’s not around.” 

“What a proper git.”

You laugh again. “No, it’s not on him. I wanted to keep her. It was my call and it’s the best decision I’ve made.” 

“Must be a lot to do it yourself.”

“Takes two villages to raise this one. I’m not all alone. My parents help a lot and Rebecca is officially Amelia’s favorite aunt four years in the running.”

“No favorite uncle yet? Think I could campaign for that spot.”

You can only smile.

He returns it softly. “I’m happy to take part in this village. I’m not fully working right now and have plenty of time.”

“No, don’t even worry about it. I’ve managed so far.”

“Yes, but I’m offering you help. You’ve already done such a great job with her.”

You preen at the praise. “Thank you, but it’s everyone.” 

Then Luca looks at you like he’s memorizing the features on your face. The intensity of his gaze has you stiffening. But his voice is gentle when he says, “I always had a feeling you’d make a great mother someday if you chose to do it.” 

You blink at him in surprise. “What makes you say that?”

“You were constantly fussing over everyone. You were the one who made sure I ate enough and drank enough water. Don’t think I’d be alive today if it weren’t for you.”

“Now you’re just being dramatic.”

“No, really. I owe a lot to you, I hope you know that. Now that I’m back, I’m hoping I can make it up to you.” 

A snort of disbelief escapes you. “You have nothing to make up to me. I’m just glad to have you back, you know. It’s been a while since I’ve felt this much ego in the room.”

Luca leans over this time, laughing. The sound is deep, straight from his belly. It’s rich and it’s attractive. Even more so when you know you’re the reason for it. He’s close enough to you that you get a whiff of him – and he smells like home. 

–

Introducing Luca properly to Amelia isn’t too difficult. She knows him as your friend back from your restaurant days and he floods her with stories of how you were when you were young. 

“She was rebellious but also extremely responsible, a giant contradiction your mother.” 

“Cont— contra— what is that word?” Amelia tilts her head.

“Contradiction. It’s like when two things that don’t usually go together are paired together. Like someone being naughty and nice at the same time.”

She nods, letting out a small ‘ooh’, which draws a smile from Luca. 

With all his free time, he becomes a regular visitor. You don’t mind it in the least, especially when you know Luca can assist you in the kitchen. Usually, it would be you and four other taste testers just waiting for dinner. Now, you’re working side by side, moving around the space just like you used to. 

Luca quickly learns where everything in your kitchen is located – spices, utensils, plates, and cups. It comes easily to a man who’s lived and breathed in various ones for years. He navigates the space as naturally as you do. 

It’s even more helpful when work hits busy season. At quarter end, you’re constantly getting pulled into meetings and last-minute review sessions. 

When your phone rings in the middle of dinner prep, you groan. “I have to take this. Um, feel free to pause until I wrap up. We can finish it then.”

Luca only shoos you away from the kitchen. “Don’t worry, Amelia and I can handle it, right?”

Amelia nods excitedly. She’s been even more ecstatic recently with more people to torment. Luca’s height and build mean he’s been giving her piggyback rides whenever she wants and pushing her guilt-trip eyes to get him to give her more sweets under your nose. And since Luca is four years behind on kissing her ass, he folds like a cheap suit. 

At least it gives you some reassurance that Luca does well with Amelia.

Sometimes, when you look at the two of them, you wonder if this is what your life could’ve been. It could’ve been the two of you raising this beautiful, brainy little girl. He would’ve been right next to you at parent-teacher conferences, you shaking your head at some of her antics and he would just beam proudly. It could’ve been two, but instead Amelia only got one. 

But it’s all meaningless thinking. You don’t have any regrets. Amelia still turned out wonderful and now they’re building their relationship. He doesn’t need to know the truth. He doesn’t need to live with what-ifs that he doesn’t have control over – and that’s just the way you want it. 

You would rather he have this what-if rather than wonder if it was worth it to give up everything he loved for you. 

You push these thoughts away from your mind as you dive into this work fire drill. There’s been plenty of these lately. With you hunkered down with your laptop, Luca keeps Amelia company – and safe because that girl has been a little too curious about the stove lately. 

By the time you crawl out of your cave, you catch the delicious whiff of custard in the air. Your mouth immediately waters because you know exactly what’s baking in your oven. When you reenter the kitchen, the two of them are on the floor, staring at the lit-up oven. 

“This is – maybe was – your mom’s favorite. She wouldn’t ever order anything else. I used to make this for her after work whenever she was feeling tired. It would cheer her up.” You hear Luca share. 

It’s true. You remember the late nights after a long day of grunt work. The ingredients are always in the kitchen and the process simple enough that Luca would have them ready by the time you finish cleaning up the station. The two of you would sit side by side, spooning the sweet treat into your mouth as you chatted about the day. 

Amelia chimes in this time, “She’s still the same! We always get crème brûlée. I like cheesecake, so we always get two desserts.”

“Do you now? Well, I make a delicious berry cheesecake. I’ll have to make you one and bring it over.”

“We can make one together!” She jumps. “How about tomorrow?”

And this is where you step in. “Amelia, Luca might be busy. We can aim for a weekend, okay?”

Luca gets to his feet then, placing his hand on top of Amelia’s head. She leans into his touch. “I can do tomorrow, no problem. I’ll pick up the ingredients on the way here.”

“You really don’t have to. You’re already helping me tonight.”

“I want to. I can do tomorrow.” Luca grins down at Amelia. “Seems only fair since you’re getting your favorite dessert tonight that Amelia gets hers tomorrow.”

She lets out a cheer. You pin her with a look that does nothing to scare her. “Alright, but only if you get all your homework done. Are you all packed for tomorrow?”

“I’ll finish packing my bag now,” she smiles. “Thanks, Uncle Luca!” With one last hug around his legs, she’s dashing off to her room.

You shake your head, sighing. “You spoil her too much. Her dentist will have a field day on her next visit.”

“I’m not above bribing children with desserts. It’s what all those years in restaurants have culminated into,” Luca cheekily grins, completely unapologetic. 

Once the ramekins are out of the oven, Luca waits for Amelia to return before he layers the sugar on top and torches it. She watches in fascination and Luca even offers to help her try it. “Don’t do this without your mum around, promise me,” Luca says. The stern warning in his voice is appreciated. 

And attractive. 

Shit. You dismiss that assessment and turn your attention back to the two. Amelia is focusing intently on how the sugar browns as her small hands wrap around the tool, Luca’s own larger hands covering hers. If you had a camera, you’d capture this moment to remember. 

Three of you are huddled around the dining table with your respective bowls. Amelia does a dramatic first crack through the sugar, thrilled when she finds that it isn’t as thick as it usually is in restaurants. You stick a spoonful into your mouth and nearly melt on the spot. It’s the right creaminess with a sweetness that isn’t excessive. The brittle is crisp, falling apart at the touch of your spoon, but provides a balanced change in texture. The flavor is familiar, one that you’ve tasted time and time again in the Ever kitchen, but somehow it tastes even better. Luca’s perfected this recipe. 

This is the perfect crème brûlée.

“Good god.” The words are out of your mouth before you can stop them. “This is even better than I remember.”

“I’ve tweaked it a little bit since you last had it. I’m glad you like it.”

Luca offers to do the dishes while you tuck Amelia into bed, which you are grateful for. “Goodnight, Uncle Luca,” she yawns, rubbing her eyes as Luca bends down to accept her hug. 

“Goodnight, baby,” Luca smiles against her head. The term of endearment makes her smile curl just a tad bit bigger.

She waves sleepily before dragging her feet towards her room. You pull the blanket up to her chin. For once, she has no complaints about going to sleep at the designated time. The dessert must’ve done a number on her, not to mention running around with Luca all afternoon. 

“Night, sweetheart,” you mumble, kissing her on the forehead.

“Mommy?”

“Hm?”

“I like Uncle Luca.”

Your lips twitch, threatening to shift into a grin. “Yeah? He’s great, isn’t he?”

“You never talked about him before, but you’re friends. Why?”

You rub her forehead thoughtfully, smoothing out the small creases of her frown. “He wasn’t here. I didn’t think he was going to come back so I didn’t think you would ever get to know him.”

She hums thoughtfully as her eyelids begin to flutter. She’s resisting sleep as best she could but you cover her eyes and she doesn’t fight. “I’m glad he did,” she mumbles before her soft snores fill the room.

“Me too,” you whisper quietly to her. It’s a quiet admission, one you can only make in the safety of this room. 

You’ve lived years without him, but now that he’s back, you can’t imagine what it was like before he returned. It’s as if he had been here all along, integrated into every aspect of your life. He’s etched into every page of every chapter of your book. 

Luca is staring at a wine bottle in the living room when you find him next. He perks up, lips stretching wide. “She’s asleep?”

“Out cold. Thanks for wearing her out. Usually it takes me an hour to put her down.”

He chuckles. “My age is catching up to me. I already feel it in my back.”

“Sounds like you’ve been slacking on working out,” you tease, sliding into the space next to him. “Thinking of drinking?”

“My only responsibility tomorrow is making cheesecake for a four-year-old, so I think I’m good to suffer through a hangover.”

Smirking, you grab him a wine opener and let him do his thing. He expertly pours out two glasses and hands one to you. The cabernet is rich and delicious. The warmth of the alcohol immediately spreads through your systems and your muscles relax into the couch. Just what you needed. 

Somehow, your conversation strays to dating. 

Perhaps it’s the wine, or perhaps it’s you being soft from a day spent with both Luca and Amelia, but you find yourself being more truthful than you’d like.

“You haven’t gone a single date?”

You laugh and groan simultaneously, head thrown back to the couch. “Don’t say it like that. It’s hard to even think about mustering up the energy to get to know someone when you’re raising a kid.”

“I’m just surprised Rebecca never tried to trick you into going on one. She looks like the type to plot that behind your back.”

“Oh, trust me. She has. Except I had to bring Amelia along so my blind date made himself scarce when he saw his promised date show up with a child.”

Luca scoffs, “Sounds like she has terrible taste in men. For you at least.”

“Oh, yeah? Who would you set me up with then?”

The question catches him by surprise. His lips thin as his eyes dart away. The wine on your tongue suddenly tastes sour. “Don’t think I have any good mates to set you up with.”

“That’s unfortunate,” you grin, “though, I don’t think they would take too kindly to our friendship anyway. At the rate you’re going, I wouldn’t be surprised if Amelia accidentally calls you dad.”

You don’t realize the gravity of your words. They were said in jest. They were meant to be lighthearted. But the look on Luca’s face says otherwise. It’s a combination of shock and awe and bashfulness. 

“A-accidentally, you know,” you try to emphasize. 

“Would it be so bad though?” Luca murmurs quietly, his hand inching closer on the back of the couch towards you. His fingers ghost your bare shoulder, decorated only by the thin strap of your dress. “For her to call me that.”

Your heart beats so hard in your chest, it feels like it’s going to spill out. No words could even come to mind in that moment, not when Luca’s touching you. Not when he’s leaning closer. Especially not when you feel the softness of his lips against yours. 

He tastes saccharine sweet, the gentle kind like a candy that soothes your aching throat. You barely hear him shift towards you until the pillow next to you dips. Then his hand is wrapping around the back of your neck and pulling you closer. His fingers climb to bury in your hair as he lets out a small moan against your lips. His touch, his smell, everything about him overwhelms your senses. 

The Luca you knew before was a little clumsy, a little hesitant. But the man before you today is confident. He’s sure of his movements as his teeth catch your bottom lip, drawing a whimper from your throat. His tongue swipes over the bite before he presses in. 

Luca’s large hands then slide down to your hips to pull you on top of him, trapping his legs in between yours. Your arms wind around his neck to pull him even closer until your bodies are pressed flush together. Your breasts push against his firm chest as his thick arms circle your body, holding you tight. 

You only part to gasp in a little bit of air before he’s slanting his lips over yours again. “You’re fucking gorgeous,” Luca mutters as he begins moving his mouth along your jaw and down your neck. His lips are hot against your sensitive skin, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses that have you shivering. With only your panties and his jeans separating the two of you, you could feel the strain of his erection growing against your core. 

“God, you taste so good. Missed kissing you like this,” he mumbles as he makes his way back to your lips, keeping his mouth on your skin the entire time. 

“Luca, please,” you whine, hands tentatively playing with the hem of his shirt. You sneak your fingers up his abdomen, feeling the solid torso underneath. Your palms stretch over the planes of his abs, toned and firm. 

“When’s the last time, love? Tell me.”

“I don’t know, years,” you mutter. It’s been years. The last time was… 

It’s as if the glass between your past and present cracks. The splinters cut through the haze as you realize where you are. Your daughter is in the next room, sound asleep, while you’re out here on the lap of her father, who doesn’t even know he’s—

You’re quick to scramble off him with your rattling heart, standing away from the couch with your fingers pressed against your lips. They still tingle from where Luca’s kissed you. You can still taste him on your tongue. The shame settles in swift and heavy in the pit of your stomach. 

With his frazzled hair and shirt slightly bunched up, Luca looks at you in confusion. The fog in his eyes is slowly dissipating. “What's wrong?”

“Shit, Luca. I can’t. I can’t do this. I—”

He bounds to his feet and approaches you slowly, hands sliding up your arms to take hold of your shoulders. He pulls you in for a hug when you don’t protest. This feels safe. You feel protected. But you know it’s all a mirage. Temporary. 

“Hey, deep breaths, sweetheart. Tell me what you’re thinking about. Tell me what’s on your mind.”

“I shouldn’t be doing this,” you swallow, “my daughter’s right there for god’s sake. I’m a terrible mother.”

“No, you’re not. She’s asleep. She’s fine.”

You jerk back, extracting yourself from him. “What if she walked out and saw us? Oh god, how would I explain that to her?”

“Okay, I understand. But she didn’t. You’re fine. If she did, we would’ve sat her down and talked to her.”

“And what would I say? What could I even say to make it better?”

“Sweetheart—”

“Don’t.” The word is sharp. Hard enough to actually have Luca stop in his tracks. “Amelia is everything to me. Everything I do is for her. I shouldn’t have— this was a mistake.”

A mask of hurt settles on his face. “Don’t say that. You can’t tell me you don’t feel it too.”

“It doesn’t matter what I feel. I’m all she has, Luca. I can’t have anyone leave her. You’re— she already likes you too much. And if you leave again, I don’t know what I would tell her.”

Luca frowns, stepping towards you. “I’m not leaving. I told you I’m here for a while.”

“A while is not forever, Luca,” you whisper. “You’re still out there pursuing this big dream of becoming a chef. You’ve worked in some of the greatest places in the world. This home – it’s so small and it’s nothing compared to what you’ve built out there.”

“Don’t say that. You’ve created such a wonderful home. The only thing that gets me up in the morning these days is coming here, coming to you and Amelia. You don’t know how much this place means to me.”

For now. This place means something for now. The same way Ever meant something then. The same way you may have mattered in the past. But things are different now – you’re different now. It’s no longer just you. You’re not on your own anymore, and you’re not going to saddle him with your choices. You’re not going to have Amelia suffer from your choices. Not when he still has so much to offer the world. Not when he’s likely to leave again for the next big thing. 

It’s one thing to long for something you’ve never had. It’s another to lose something you’ve always wished for – after you’ve had it.

“I can’t do this,” you shake your head. “I’m sorry. It’s complicated.”

“Why is it complicated? Help me understand. What can I do to uncomplicate it?”

Your breath is shaky as you inhale. “There’s nothing you can do.”

His eyes slide shut as he swallows thickly, his arms falling limp by his side. “So what now then? Are you going to cut me out of your life again?”

“I never cut you out of my life.”

“You practically did. I saw how distant you were during those calls, how you could barely even look at me. For a while, I thought I had done something wrong – if leaving had been a mistake. Now I understand why and there’s no fault on anyone’s side. But now I’m also here. I’m here with you and I want to stay here – if you’ll let me.”

And you know it’s too late now. You should’ve thought through the consequences to the end. Amelia has grown fond of Luca. She’s attached to him. You can’t possibly be the person to strip her of that happiness. 

“I want you to stay. For Amelia,” you clarify. The light in his eyes flickers, dimming slightly. “I don’t think I’m ready for… whatever this is, Luca. When you decide to leave again, chase the next thing, I already have to prepare Amelia for that.”

“You don’t know if I’m going to leave again,” he murmurs quietly.

“I think the risk itself is enough,” you say with a sympathetic smile. He understands, it’s clear from the way he looks at you. He’s conflicted, his fingers itching to reach out to you again and go back to minutes ago when he was wrapped around you. But he also understands why you’re concerned. 

So he nods. “Yeah, that makes sense. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“Please do not apologize,” you laugh, “I enjoyed it – while it lasted. Plus it makes me feel pathetic when you pity me.”

“I definitely do not pity you. Pretty sure I’m pitying myself for messing it up with someone as wonderful as you.”

Your lips twitch, breath huffing in a laugh. “You’re cheesy when you’re drunk." A beat of silence before you say, "You should stay tonight. It’s late and you’ve had too much to drink. I’ll get you some clothes.” The reluctant look on Luca’s face means that he has a question and you already have a feeling what it is. “It’s not… they’re your clothes. You left a few things here last time.”

“Right, thanks.”

When you leave Luca to sleep last night, you drag your feet to your room with a heavy heart. 

You’ve lost him once. You don’t think you can survive a second time.

–

Things are as they should be after. The dynamic between you and Luca returns, Amelia is none the wiser. However, you note that there is slightly more tension in the air now. It’s in the way he chances glances at you, sneaking peeks whenever he thinks you’re not looking. You do the same to him, your eyes trailing over the way his arms move when he’s working in the kitchen. 

It’s easier since Luca started staging at The Bear. It’s a temporary opportunity – he’s not even sure how much longer the restaurant will be around, judging by what their funder said. But he likes the team and the menu, so he’s taking it one day at a time. 

Amelia isn’t too pleased that her time with Uncle Luca is reduced. He apologizes profusely for only being able to come around on Sundays when the restaurant is closed. There are some days that he comes over at night, tired down to his bones, but he still puts on a smile for her. Most of the time, Amelia is fast asleep, but he leaves traces of himself behind for her – a slice of leftover pie, a cheesecake, and even a new stuffed animal in the shape of a cheesecake. She hugs that one to sleep every night now. 

Your parents swoop in. They’ve been wondering why you haven’t been bringing Amelia around as much. 

“Had a little help,” you only say. Your dad doesn’t think much of it but your mom has always been the more observant one. 

“What kind of help?” She prompts.

“A friend.”

“That’s not Rebecca?”

You shrug. “Sure.”

“Are you seeing someone?”

“Mom! No,” you sputter, heat crawling up your neck as you focus on stirring the soup for dinner. 

“Then why are you being so coy about it?” She teases, poking your side. “You have no problem talking about any of your other friends, but here you are – getting all fussy when I ask you such simple questions.”

The warmth only grows and you duck your head, lest she realize how hard you’re blushing. “He’s an old friend. Back from my cooking days.”

“Oh? I didn’t realize you still spoke to any of them.”

Chewing on your bottom lip, you shake your head. “I don’t. He’s – he was gone for a while. He was in Copenhagen and now he’s back.”

“That’s nice. I’m happy you have someone else supporting her.” 

“Me too.”

“So is this the Uncle Luca that Amelia won’t stop talking about? Pretty sure your dad’s upset that he’s no longer her favorite man.”

You laugh, switching off the stove and calling the rest into the dining room to eat. “Yes, I’m surprised she’s already talking about him.”

“We call her too, you know. I’m a little worried about her teeth based on how many desserts he’s bringing her.”

“He’s trying not to spoil her too much, but that comes with the territory of being a pastry chef. He’s very good, though. I almost forgot how good he is.”

“That good, huh?”

The implication in her words is not lost on you. “Dinner’s ready.”

Dinner is lively. Amelia spends all that time catching them up on things they’ve missed, which really isn’t a lot. Your parents adore Amelia and would spend hours listening to her talk on the phone. However, with every mention of Luca, you could feel irritation rising in your dad. Jealousy is foreign territory to him.

In the middle of dinner, your phone rings and you step away from the table. It’s Luca. 

“Hey, I stopped by the house, but you weren’t here.”

“Oh, yes. We’re at my parents’ today.”

“Got it.”

“Did you need something?”

“No, no. Marcus and I were experimenting with a new cheesecake recipe so I wanted to bring some samples by before I headed home. I could drop it off at your parents’ if you’d like.”

Your eyes fly to your family at the table. While your dad’s attention is still focused on Amelia, your mom’s curious eyes are trained on you. “Um, no, it’s okay. Don’t worry about it. You can keep it.”

“It’s no problem at all. Let me know the address?”

You confirm with him and send the address over. Luca does live closer to your parents than he does you, so it works out that he can drop it off on his way home. When you return to the table, your mom doesn’t press for answers. She just takes another spoonful of her soup.

However, when the doorbell rings, she’s the first one on her feet – as if she anticipated this all along. You’re a second too late to intercept when your mom is at the door, greeting Luca who – even after a full day in the kitchen – still looks delicious. He smells delicious too. 

“You must be Luca,” your mom immediately says.

Great. Now he’s going to think that you’ve been talking about him. His gaze shifts to you in question. “Amelia,” you say to clarify. “She’s been raving about your company. I think she’s breaking my dad’s heart.”

His laugh is delightful. Your mom seems to think so too when she smiles a little wider. “I am Luca. It’s wonderful to meet you.” He extends his hand, holding a full cheesecake in the other. You’ll only admit to yourself how sexy it is that he holds these massive pastries like they weigh nothing. 

“Why don’t you come in? We’re having dinner right now.”

Luca – knowing full well you eat dinner at seven on the dot – sends you a questioning look at the fact that you’re having dinner at ten. A time in which Amelia should be in bed too. You shrug, “My parents eat late and Amelia takes every opportunity to not sleep when she’s not supposed to. It’s Friday anyway.”

He only nods. “I don’t want to intrude and—”

“You wouldn’t be intruding. Come on in.”

You grasp your mom’s arm. “Luca’s just being polite. He’s exhausted and he’s still working tomorrow. Pastry starts very early over there.”

“Oh, that’s a shame,” your mom relents. “We must have you over for dinner next time then.”

“That would be lovely, thank you for the invitation. I’m here to drop off dessert.”

“What a sweet boy. It’s been a while since my daughter has brought anyone around. In fact, I think this is the first time.”

You groan as Luca pinks. “Mom, please don’t start. Luca, please ignore her.”

“A woman can still dream, you know,” your mom grins. 

Before either of you can respond, Amelia is barreling down the hallway and throwing herself around Luca’s legs. You’re quick to take hold of the dessert so that he can bend down to embrace her. “Uncle Luca, I didn’t know you were coming! Are you hungry? Mommy made chicken noodle soup.”

“Did she? That sounds delicious.”

“You smell really good.”

“I was baking your favorite dessert.”

Amelia looks up at the platter in your hand. “Cheesecake! Thank you, Uncle Luca.”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart. I can’t stay for dinner but I’ll come by on Sunday and we can learn how to make bread. How does that sound?”

“With cheese?”

“Lots of cheese. I’ll bring at least three kinds.”

Amelia hums in excitement and eagerly agrees. Your dad stands behind my mom, eyeing Luca with suspicion. And envy. Luca only smiles politely at him and introduces himself. It doesn’t appear to appease him, but it’s a start. 

“Anyways, I’ll let you folks get back to it. Hope you enjoy dinner.” Luca says to the group who say their own farewells. He turns to you, gaze softening a fraction. The edges of the emerald chipping away. “See you Sunday?”

You smile, “Sunday.”

As you’re putting away dishes with your dad that night, he keeps throwing looks your way. He wants your attention and you have a feeling of what he’s going to ask, so you would rather avoid this conversation altogether. 

“So,” he starts and the sigh that leaves you is involuntary. “Luca then?”

“What about him?”

“He seems nice.”

“He is.” 

Your dad is silent for only a moment before he delivers words that have you choking on air. “Honey, you know your sex life is none—”

“Nope, oh god, no. We are not talking about this.”

“I just want to make sure you’re being safe. You already have Amelia and we do want more grandkids but maybe once you’re fully prepared.”

You’re practically wheezing, closing your hands around your ears. “I don’t want to hear this from you, Dad. I’m an adult. I’m good. I know about the birds and the bees.”

“Oh, dear,” your mom’s voice interrupts as she bumps her husband by the hip. “Go do the final tuck-in for Amelia. I can finish up here.”

Your dad opens his mouth to protest but the look your mom sears him with has him scampering out of the kitchen. 

“Your dad means well.”

“I’m aware, he just needs to work on his delivery. There are probably better ways to say don’t get knocked up a second time.”

Your mom laughs as she closes the dishwasher. “I don’t think your dad or I would mind another grandchild. We’re only saying to be responsible about it. We can see you’re fully capable of raising children on your own but it doesn’t hurt to have an extra pair of hands. Especially when they come attached to a tall, British man who already adores Amelia as much as you do.”

“Mother,” you say in exasperation. Only your parents could make baby-making sound so unsexy. 

“And I know you wouldn’t tell us who Amelia’s father is but… I can’t help but see the resemblance.”

You wet your lips, your eyes going everywhere except to meet your mom’s. “Pure coincidence.”

“Does he know?”

“Mom.”

“Does he? Because he doesn’t seem like the type to up and abandon his daughter.”

Sighing, you shake your head. “No, he doesn’t. I’d like to keep it that way.” Your mom tilts her head in question. “It’s complicated, but he was headed to Copenhagen for work. It was a big opportunity. If I told him I was pregnant, he would’ve stayed.”

Your mom hums in understanding. She doesn’t confirm whether or not what you had done was a mistake. Instead, she only kisses you on the forehead. “You’re too good a kid, you know that.” 

“Think that’s mostly from dad.”

She laughs and flicks your cheek. “I take it back. Go get some sleep. Before the ogre gets you.”

“I’m not five anymore, Mom.”

“You always are in my eyes, honey. Goodnight.”

–

All good things must come to an end. Or so they say. 

When you hit rock bottom back then, you had been drowning in your own misery. Looking at your pregnancy test all those years ago felt like your entire life was crumbling down around you. The castle you had built cracking from the inside. 

While your parents came around at some point, it was Rebecca who really held your hand through it all. She was the one who held your hair back in the bathroom time and time again. She let you bawl through the emotional rollercoasters on her shoulder. She stood by you as you explained to your parents why they should support you. She was your rock. 

But the best thing about her is that she keeps you grounded. She’s never afraid to be honest, to push you out of your comfort zone. There are a lot of things that you’re scared about but it’s a lot easier with your best friend by your side. 

And you know that sometimes you take her for granted. It’s hard to spend time with your friend Rebecca instead of Aunt Rebecca with Amelia. Of course, you love it when the two are together and obviously Rebecca would take a bullet for Amelia, but it’s different when it’s just the two of you. 

Nights like this one – Amelia at your parents and it’s you and her on the couch with tubs of ice cream and Hugh Grant on television attempting to murder these two girls –  are rare to come by. Hugh Grant is nothing compared to the story Rebecca is telling in great detail about her most recent client. As a PR director, she works with the coolest people. Celebrities, influencers, huge corporations. Everyone wants a piece. You always listen to her in awe.

“So what happened when you told this A-list actress no?”

Rebecca rolls her eyes. “The tantrum that she threw. At least one glass furniture broke in my office that day. We have it all on camera. If I were a terrible person, I’d threaten to sell it to TMZ.”

“Jesus, the diva. This is why you can’t trust anyone these days.”

“Well, not just anyone,” Rebecca says with a pointed look. 

You know what she’s getting at. That’s the first comment she makes on the topic that night. She’s baiting you into giving her more intel. There are occasions where Rebecca and Luca overlap but for some reason, they really haven’t seen each other much since that first night when she forced you to talk to him. 

When you don’t bite, she’s on to her next story. 

“I can’t believe you didn’t say yes,” you tell her in disappointment. “You could’ve been dating a billionaire. We could’ve shared the perks.”

Rebecca snorts, “No amount of money could’ve convinced me to date that man. He’s all bark and no bite. Actually, I did hear a rumor that he bites people.”

“For a billion dollars, I might let him. Just introduce us,” you giggle, bumping her shoulder.

Rebecca laughs, “Unfortunately, you’re taken.”

A blush surfaces on your neck. “I am not.”

She gives you a look as she digs her spoon deep into the half-finished pint of Neapolitan. “Who are you kidding? You’re basically dating.” 

Well… “I might’ve forgotten to tell you something,” you start, wincing when she cocks an eyebrow in question. “We made out the other day.”

“What? When?”

“Um, he was here and I had put Amelia into bed. This was before he started staging.”

A gasp slips past her pink lips. “You’re telling me this now? So what happened? What do you mean you’re still not taken? Was he not as good as you remembered?”

No, he was better. You groan, dropping your own tub onto the table before you inhale the entire thing to distract yourself from the pain that persistently tugs at your heart. “I told him we shouldn’t.”

“What? Why would you do that?”

“Look, I don’t know how long he’s going to stick around. When he leaves, I have to pick up the pieces with Amelia. I can’t also be dealing with being heartbroken a second time.” 

Rebecca inhales deeply. You know that look. She’s trying to be patient with you. This is the look she gives you whenever you do something she disapproves of – which, considering you’re a coward, is a lot of times. 

“Let me get this straight. You have this gorgeous man with a hot, posh accent who’s wooing you and who wants to be with you and your daughter? Oh, and he’s also the father. And you’re saying no? The math isn’t mathing, babe.”

You sigh. “It’s not that easy. What if one day he finds out that he’s the father and I didn’t tell him all this time?”

“Wouldn’t that be a good thing?”

“I don’t want him to hate me for keeping something so big from him.”

“So instead, you would rather have him have nothing to do with you?”

“We can stay friends.”

“News flash, you guys aren’t friends. He was in your home practically every day. If he weren’t working, he would’ve likely already moved in here. Amelia is so fond of him. I wouldn’t be surprised if she called him dad at some point.”

“Fuck, that’s what I said.”

“Yeah, fuck. Don’t be an idiot. Luca is fantastic. He’s great with Amelia and your parents. Why would you not want him?” 

“Because I would just hold him back.”

Rebecca turns her entire body to face you now. “Hon, you know I love you. But you’ve got to stop playing this martyr. It’s frankly getting ridiculous. Stop using him as an excuse to avoid doing things you’re scared of doing. It’s okay to admit that you’re worried about getting your heart broken again. It’s okay to admit that you’re terrified of this big, beautiful thing you could have. But you can’t live in a world of what-ifs forever.”

It’s a harsh truth that burns. She’s right. For years, it’s been easy to blame what had happened for your forgotten dreams. But it had ultimately been your choice – to have Amelia, to lie to Luca, and to rely solely on yourself. With Amelia growing up, you know that you have the opportunity to turn things around. You could go back to pursuing your dreams of being a chef. You could go out and date again. You could do things for you. 

“I love you so much. You’ve given your everything to Amelia. You’ve made her your everything. Maybe it’s time to give yourself that grace as well.” 

With Luca, you know that you can never move forward until you tell him the truth. It’s going to be a secret that hangs over your heads. For any future with him – or to potentially even lose it forever, you have to finally share who he is to Amelia. 

A big part of you is hopeful – that he would be thrilled to find out and that he would welcome it with open arms. The next hurdle would be telling Amelia, but you’re hoping that’s something you can wait a little longer to overcome. 

However, a small part of you – the one that Rebecca points out – is still living that fearful what-if scenario. What if he gets upset and leaves? What if he never comes back? 

And the answer to those is another question: what’s the worst that can happen?

He decides that he doesn’t want this and moves on. So you yourself would also learn to move on. You would tell yourself down the line that you dodged a bullet. You’ve raised Amelia for four years, you can do it for the rest of your life without the support of a man. 

So you rip off the band-aid. 

On Sunday, after a long day of sun and desserts, Amelia is finally out cold. She had actually fallen asleep in Luca’s arms in front of the TV and he carried her to bed before rejoining you on the couch. For someone who hates being told to go to sleep, she’s been falling asleep on her own more so recently. It’s a nice change. 

Now to the situation at hand. It’s now or never. 

“We need to talk,” you start nervously. Your palms are clammy and you can feel sweat collecting in your hairline at the thought of this conversation. Luca probably noticed that you’ve been slightly distracted all day, but you didn’t want to wait too long. The fear that your fear will come back is too big. 

“Sounds serious,” Luca says, shifting his body so his arm is draped on the back of the sofa and he is turned to you entirely. All his attention on you. 

“I’m going to tell you something and I just need you to keep an open mind and try not to hate me at the end of this.”

His eyes go soft again, like they always do when he’s with you. It makes you hope even a little that things will turn out fine. “I could never hate you.”

A strained laugh escapes your lips. “Don’t speak too soon.”

“Tell me,” he urges. 

It’s his quiet confidence in you that finally has you spilling everything. Starting from the moment you found out, to your decision to keep it from him, and to today. How you never meant for him to find out. 

Then Luca is on his feet and your biggest fear may have materialized. He’s going to leave. 

But he only paces the length of the room, brows furrowed in deep thought. He’s not looking at you but your eyes are stuck on him, tracing his every movement, following him in case he disappears. 

“So she’s mine” is what he opts to start with.

“In the technical, genetic sense, yes.”

“Why—” he seems to be stuck in this loop of disbelief. His words keep getting caught in his throat and he ends up looking puzzled on how to even address the situation. You’re surprised – but grateful – that he’s more confused than upset. Or at least he appears to be. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I didn’t want to be a regret. Not to you.” 

Your answer only appears to confuse him more. “Why— why would you think that you’d be a regret?”

“Luca, you’re so talented. You’re meant to do great big things out there. I’ve seen how you work, the passion and heart you put into every single one of your dishes. With a baby – I couldn’t imagine what that life would be like for you. I know you. You would’ve given up Copenhagen, you would’ve stayed.”

“Of course, I would have.”

“And I didn’t want you to!” You exclaim, your fingers pushing through your hair. “Copenhagen was your everything. If I told you about the baby, you would’ve left your dream – and what then? What if you resent me for the rest of your life because of my choice?” 

Luca shakes his head. “I told you I could never resent you.”

You smile weakly at him. “You don’t know that.” 

“You’re my best friend,” Luca says softly. “I would’ve been there for you, no questions asked. Any restaurant can be the greatest in the world. But you – there’s only one of you and I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.” 

“That’s just stupid,” you mutter dumbly through your tears. 

Luca laughs and reaches up with both hands to dry your eyes. “It’s not stupid. It’s the truth. You’re so important to me. I don’t know if you know that. You were the reason why I stayed at Ever as long as I did. Your faith in me was what kept me in Copenhagen. Noma was hard, even harder knowing the shit pay I was getting. But every time I talked to you about it, you would light up – and all I could think about was how I should stay so I could keep telling stories that make you smile.”

The confession has your mind reeling, your heart lodging in your throat. “I didn’t know that. You just – you looked so happy to be there.”

He offers a small smile. “It got better.”

“I’m glad it did because it would’ve been ridiculous if you only stayed to tell me stories.” 

With a shrug, he easily says, “I would’ve. For you.” 

A quietness falls between the two of you. Two revelations. This isn’t how you expected the evening to go, yet you don’t mind it in the least. 

It’s Luca who breaks the silence first. He looks hesitant at first but decides to ask anyway, “Can I ask you something?” You nod. “Her last name—”

“It’s mine,” you blurt out. “I mean, it felt more natural. Since it was just going to be me and her.” 

A flicker of hurt crosses his eyes, a look so brief that you nearly miss it. It’s unmistakable. He looks away before you can see it, but you did. “Makes sense,” he murmurs under his breath. 

“Luca, I don’t— I need to be clear that I’m not expecting anything from you. I made this decision on my own. It’s not your responsibility.”

“She’s my daughter,” he says, a sharpness to his words that you didn’t expect. Your surprise must be clear on your face because he quickly softens. “I’m not trying to step on your toes. When I came back to Chicago, I wasn’t expecting this. I mean, I certainly was not expecting you to have a child. But I also wasn’t expecting her to be mine.”

You’re not sure what to say to that. Your fingers are laced together on top of the table and you pick at the dry skin on your thumb to distract yourself from your heart threatening to hurtle out of your chest. You try to keep your voice steady as you speak. “I know this comes as a surprise. I just want to reassure you that she’s my daughter first and foremost. She’s my responsibility. I don’t want you to think that you have to do anything.”

“That’s frankly the most absurd thing I’ve heard you say all night.”

You immediately look up, your eyes finding his with confusion written all over them.

“The fact that you think I wouldn’t want to do anything. She’s— she’s perfect, sweetheart. You raised her to be strong, smart. She has all the best parts of you and thank god none of me,” he chuckles. “Even if I were here, I don’t think I could’ve done what you did. And for that I’m grateful to you.”

Honest. Raw. Genuine. Your throat feels like sandpaper now, the words lost somewhere in the abyss. 

“About Noma, I don’t even know where to start.”

“I still don’t fully understand why you left. You said it got better. That was your dream.”

“It was,” he says softly, “I had reached it. But it didn’t feel… right. There was something always missing and I couldn’t put my finger on it.”

Nodding slowly, you take your time to digest his words. That had been his entire life. When the two of you were at Ever, all he ever talked about was making it at Noma. It’s every chef’s dream. And he had achieved it. 

“Until now.”

This is the second time you whip up in surprise. “What are you saying?”

“I missed you,” he says, almost a whisper. He says it like a secret. A secret he is sharing for the first time with you. “Gods, I missed you so much. Copenhagen was beautiful. I had a wonderful time but the whole time I was there, all I could think about was— it was being here with you. How we probably could’ve built an equally or even more beautiful life in Chicago. Or I imagined what it would be like for you to be there with me – the two of us cooking and baking like the old days. Sneaking around and eating desserts at the worst hours. Just talking.” 

“Luca…”

“And I’m not expecting you to reciprocate my feelings. I know you were worried about me leaving but I hope I’ve made it clear that I’m not going anywhere. I want to be here with you and with Amelia. I’ve already missed out on four years with her, I have a lot to make up for. But I’ve lost that same number of years with you. You’ve spent so long taking care of others. I want to be here now, I want to take care of you.” 

“I can’t possibly ask you—”

Luca shakes his head. “I want to be very clear. You’re not asking, I am.” 

“But Copenhagen and the restaurants there. You have a life there.”

“I could have a life here too. A better one. The one I want.” Luca inches closer, one of his hands stroking your hair as the other wraps around yours. There’s a comfort to his touch, one that you’ve so desperately missed. “I can work anywhere in the world. I’m constantly learning from every restaurant I’ve worked in. Chicago has some of the best food spots in the world, and even better people who run them. There’s no shortage of that. But in the world, there is only one you and one Amelia, and I’d love it if you granted me the opportunity to be in your lives.”

You swallow thickly. This is exactly what you feared would happen. But here he is — asking this of you as if you hadn’t taken away that option from him to begin with. Here he is telling you that he is choosing this. He wants this with you and with Amelia. 

“Of course you can,” you choke out, laughing lightly through the tears. 

“Oh, love, don’t cry. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“Happy tears, I promise.” You smile at him and squeeze his fingers reassuringly. “As for what you said, I missed you too. So much. I don’t even think I realized how much until you came back. And, while I do want something with you, I want to take baby steps. I want to make sure Amelia is okay with all this first.”

“Definitely. I want her to be comfortable with me – being her father but also being around. Once I get her blessing, that’s when I’ll really start to court you.”

A laugh bubbles up your throat. “Court me?”

“Court you,” he grins devilishly.

Your cheeks are beginning to hurt from how much you’re smiling, but you can’t help it. It’s so easy with him. “Thank you for understanding, Luca.”

“Don’t thank me yet. I might just be the worst influence on our daughter.”

The word our makes your heart jump. Our daughter.

You chuckle. “Pretty sure the menace in her comes from my side.”

“You’d be surprised.”

With a deep breath, you sigh and look at him. This gorgeous, beautiful man is all heart. A heart that belongs to you. “Amelia already loves you, being a bad influence might make her love you even more. My dad is already quite disappointed that he’s no longer the favorite man in her life.”

Luca grins unapologetically. “As unfortunate as that is for your father, I am thrilled to hear that. You have no idea. Though, that just means that I also have to win over your parents. I don’t know how pleased they are that I wasn’t around for the first years.”

“I’ll make sure they understand that it wasn’t your fault—”

“I still should’ve known.”

You pin him with a look. “You couldn’t have known. I did everything possible to hide it from you. It’s not on you. They know that to a certain extent. Plus, judging from my mom’s encouraging comments, I don’t think you’ll have to work too hard.”

“Well, still, I hope I don’t disappoint.” 

His fake modesty – which actually is not fake at all because he’s just that humble – is irritatingly sweet. “Luca, you are 6’2” of pure muscle and soft heart. You’ve worked in the coolest places in the world. You’ve been there for Amelia since you found out about her – even when you didn’t know you were the father. You have nothing to be worried about.”

“If you say so,” he smirks and scoots even closer. Your knees are touching and his eyes drop to your lips. “I know you said we’ll go slow but – would you mind if I kissed you every once in a while? No pressure again. Feel free to say no—”

So you do the second brave thing you’ve done today – you lean over and press your lips against his. It’s slow and sweet, sparks compared to the fireworks that one night. Still, you enjoy it all the same. He’s surprised only momentarily before he returns the attention. 

When you finally separate, he leans his forehead against yours. You whisper, “I could really get used to this.”

Grinning, he gives you another peck. “Can’t say I’ll have any complaints about that.”

Tag List: @alexfms97 @capitanostella @eg-dr3amer3 @zulema222 @cloudroomblog @nhloversblog @lilacspider @letmebe0k @messi-jessi603 @imagineslendk @lucycarlisleswife @torubug @tinkcantwrite @marroonwitch @blubra @milescrypt

[maxinehufflepuffprincess]

I'll help you

BangChan x fem! reader. Platonic Hwang Hyunjin x fem! reader. 9th member.

(This was requested. So I'm hoping that this lives up to expectations. I really enjoyed writing a one-on-one thing for Honey and Hyunjin. I hope I can do this more with the other members as well.)

Taglist. Masterlist. Progress Update. MamaBear Collection.

Summary: Hyunjin is having trouble with the dance. You step in to help.

You found Hyunjin in the dance practice room, alone. You had been looking for him, wanting to drop off the food you had made for him as well as his coffee. No one had seen him all day. Minho had come home saying he had been in the practice room all day. So you wanted to check on him. 

You shut the door behind you. Hyunjin let out a loud groan before kicking the ground. He sat down and laid his head in his hands. 

You watched him for a moment. You walked over to his water bottle and picked it up before heading over to the male and sitting down beside him. You placed your bag down beside you. You let him take a moment to just calm himself down. 

Hyunjin ran his fingers through his hair before looking at you. “I can't get it right.” His voice sounded hurt. 

You nodded your head softly. “It's okay. We all struggle sometimes.” You leaned forward and placed a hand on his knee, gently squeezing it. You then passed him his water bottle. 

Hyunjin took it gratefully. A weak smile on his face. He opened his water bottle and had a mouthful and then two of it. He then closed the water bottle and set it down beside him. Hyunjin looked at the ground before turning to look at you.

He watched as you opened your bag, pulling out his usual red bento box and his coffee. You set them down in front of him.

“Alright. Eat up. Right now, you're hungry. You're getting in your head. You'll get the dance. I know you will. But you need to let yourself breathe. You need to take a break. Then, when you're ready, we'll go through it together.” You explained to him with a sweet and encouraging smile.

Hyunjin pulled you into a hug. “Thank you.” You felt him relax as you hugged him. The two of you pulled away. 

Hyunjin opened his box and smiled. As usual, you packed his favourites. Hyunjin began to eat as you got out his coffee and placed it next to his water bottle. 

“Are you not eating?” He asked you curiously after swallowing his mouthful. 

You shook your head. “No, I already ate with the Maknae line. It was nice.” You told him as you leaned back on your hands. 

Hyunjin smiled at your words. “Of course, you ate with them. They helped you cook, right?” He asked curiously before eating more of his food.

You shrugged. “Yongbok helped. He's such a sweet little helper. I.N. was in the kitchen. He helped for like a minute before deciding to be a taste tester. Han set the table, and Seungmin was on drink duty.” It has been nice getting to spend time with your youngest four.

Hyunjin picked up his coffee and drank some of it. It was perfect as usual. 

“Right. After you've eaten, I want you to take a nap. It'll give me time to go warm up and go over the choreography. Then, we'll go through it together. Okay?”

Hyunjin nodded. “Thank you, Mama Bear.” 

You simply smiled. “You're welcome, baby.”

Hyunjin ate his food and finished his coffee. He walked over to the couch and laid down. You got an eyemask from your bag and gave it to him, not wanting the lights to bother him as he sleeps.

He thanked you. Then, soon enough, he was out like a light.

—--------

You stood side by side with Hyunjin. The two of you are doing the moves once again. 

“2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8. Turn, 2, 3 4, bom, ba dum.” You stopped and shook your head. “That was better.” You told him with a reassuring smile.

Hyunjin shook his head. “I messed up again, though.” 

You shook your head. “You improved.” You walked over to the mirror and turned to face the tall male. 

“Do it again. Focus. Don't think again about what you think you messed up on. Think about what you can improve. Think about what you did right. Feel the music and move. You're Hwang Hyunjin. Dance is second nature to you. Get out of your own head, focus and dance.” You turned on the music and watched him.

Hyunjin let out a breath and began to dance. He went from the beginning. Letting himself feel the moves. You watched him move, the music filled the air, as did the sound of Hyunjin's shoes squeaking every so often.

You watched him dance, taking note of what needed to be improved. But honestly, not much needed to be improved at all. Hyunjin was killing the moves, and you couldn't be prouder of him. 

—------------

Chan was on his way to meet up with you. The two of you had planned a date for the night. You had texted him a few hours ago, telling him that you were on your way to check on Hyunjin in the Dance studio. 

He had texted you back, saying he was cleaning up the track with Changbin. The two had just finished up. So he was off to find you. As he got closer, he could hear your voice. He peeked in through the window and smiled.

“So when you bring your arm up, you wanna stretch your hand out as you lean back.” He heard you say to Hyunjin as he opened the door slightly. Neither of you noticed.

He watched as Hyunjin copied your action. 

“Bring your right knee up and then stomp as you lean back.” You showed him, and Hyunjin copied you. He got it. As the two of you danced, it seemed to sink in more easily, and Hyunjin couldn't have been more grateful.  

“Alright. We'll do it again to the music.” You walked over to your phone, turning the music on.  You jogged over to your spot, and the two of you began to dance. 

Chan slipped into the room as he watched the two of you go through the dance flawlessly. The best part was that the two of you looked like you were enjoying yourselves. He had seen Hyunjin struggling this morning and now, thanks to you, he had the dance down perfectly. 

When the music stopped, you were both sweating and panting. Hyunjin turned to you. He swept you into his arms, lifting you off the ground and twirling you both around.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” He placed you down and kissed your cheeks. “You're a lifesaver. An actual Goddess sent down to help us.”

You let out a loud laugh and shook your head at his antics. “Jinnie. I knew you could do it. Dance is a part of who you are. Just remember, sometimes we all need a little extra time and help. There is no shame in it, and there is no shame in asking. I'm so incredibly proud of you.” You cupped his cheeks in your hands. “You're Hwang Hyunjin. You can do anything.”

"Do you think you'd be okay with helping with a solo dance project? Please? We can do it next week. Please?" Hyunjin pleaded.

You happily nodded your head. "I'd love to help you. We can go through it on Monday, after we've recorded our parts in the new song."

Chris just watched the two of you for a moment. He felt a swell of pride in his chest. Seeing you help Hyunjin made him smile. You may have been proud of the boys, but he was incredibly proud of you. Because you didn’t have to come to help Jinnie. You didn’t have to make him food and get his favourite coffee. You didn’t have to spend hours in the dance studio being patient as you went over everything with him. Working hard to help one of your members get the dance and get it out of his head. 

Chan walked over to the two of you. A bright smile lay on his lips as he looked between the two of you. “Hey, sweetheart.” He said to you as he placed a hand on your waist. He placed a soft kiss on your lips.

You happily looked up at the male and kissed him back. “Hi. My love.” You snuggled into his side. 

“Are you ready to go?” He asked you curiously.

You nodded your head. “Yeah, I’m ready. I may need a shower before we go out, though.” You told him somewhat shyly. 

Chris let out a chuckle. “It’s alright. I saw you two, you worked hard.”

You flushed and let out a giggle. “Thank you.” You turned to Hyunjin. “Come on, grab your things. You need a shower and to relax.” You told him.

Hyunjin and you both grabbed your things. You walked hand in hand with Chan, and the three of you left the dance studio. You dropped Hyunjin at his and Binnie’s dorm first. 

He left you with a big hug, another thank you and the promise to treat you to ice cream. 

-----------

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[wcnderlnds]

greenlight [ part four ] ★ choi seung-hyun (t.o.p)

・❥・ summary: seunghyun works so hard and never gets the chance to relax so you decide to help him out ・❥・word count: 2.3k ・❥・warnings:18+ mdni. oral (m & f receiving), slight dirty talk, swearing, a lil fluffy at the end, virgin!reader ・❥・authors note: this may not be my best work but its definitely a thing i wrote <3

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE

Seunghyun hadn’t stopped since the moment he came. There had been no break, no chance to really relax before he was thrown back into work. In true Seunghyun fashion, he never complained but you could see how exhausted he was. The days when he came home and instantly went to bed, sleeping in longer than he should’ve. He really needed a days rest. Maybe a vacation was in order — you’d have to look into planning one when he had a gap in his schedule. For now, all you could do was be there for him the best you could.

That was why you’d decided that when he came home tonight, you were going to make sure he had the most relaxing night he could. Around the bedroom, you’d lit candles, creating a nice, calming atmosphere. You put on some of his favourite music and to top it off, as a little extra treat, you wore nothing but his favourite Pink Floyd shirt, the fabric resting above your knees.

All you had to do now was wait for him to walk through the door.

“Baby, I’m home,” he called out, the tiredness evident in his voice. Instantly, you were on your feet to greet him. The second he saw you he couldn’t help the smirk on his face, his eyes raking over your body. “Nice shirt.”

“Right? Very comfortable, though, I think its original owner looks hotter in it,” you teased. Your hand found his, lacing your fingers together. It was a simple gesture but it made Seunghyun’s heart melt. After a tiring day, coming back to you was what made it all worth it. It’s what got him through the day.

“Hmm, I don’t know. I think you look incredibly sexy right now.”

“Yeah, well, maybe if you play your cards right, I’ll let you see what’s underneath.”

Seunghyun’s eyes flashed with desire. Over the last few weeks, the intimacy between you had only grown. The flirting was at an all time high, the touches were constant — it was driving him wild and he loved every single second of it. Nothing was hotter to him than the fact you were opening up to him, allowing yourself to explore your sexuality with him. It was corny as hell but it made him feel like the luckiest man in the world. 

He was about to speak but you pressed your finger to his lips to silence him. “Hold that thought, I’ve got something planned for tonight. You’ve been working so hard lately and I think you need someone to take care of you. Luckily, you have me.”

With a tug of his hand, you led him towards the bedroom. His heart soared when he saw the scene in front of him. The room adorned with candles, the sounds of his favourite jazz music echoing quietly throughout the dimly lit room. It was one of the most romantic things anyone had ever done for him. Little did he know what else you had in store for him. This was something you had been building up to all week. He had always been so kind to you, taking care of you in and out of the bedroom but now it was your turn to do the same for him. 

“Take your shirt off and lay down on the bed for me on your stomach. First on the agenda is a massage,” you whispered, leaning up on your tiptoes to press a ghost of a kiss against his lips. Your hands toyed at the hem of his shirt, helping him pull it off and over his head to reveal his toned chest. Seunghyun may have been insecure about his own body but you thought he was the most beautiful man alive. You rested your palms on his chest, gently pushing him down onto the bed.

“Oh, it’s like that, is it?” He teased but immediately did what you asked. Now his back was exposed to you, you settled yourself on the bed. Your hands found his shoulders, gently rubbing at them. Seunghyun let out a long groan, the tension instantly leaving his body. The way your soft hands felt on his skin was heaven. 

“Just relax,” you cooed. Slowly, your hands moved lower, making sure to rub and caress every inch of his skin. It made his skin feel like it was on fire, the way you were touching him was so sensual, he could feel his cock already hardening at your simple touch.

“I forgot how good you are with your hands,” he mumbled into the pillow, his eyes closed as he lost himself in the feeling of your touch.

“My hands aren’t the only thing I’m good with.”

Before Seunghyun could make some snarky comment back, you pushed at his shoulder to roll him over onto his back, straddling him now. Your lips found his neck, pressing light kisses along his skin. Seunghyun groaned, his hands finding their place on your hips but only for a moment because you soon began to trail your lips down his chest and stomach until you reached the waistband of his pants. His eyes shot open.

“Wait, wait, wait. Are you…? You don’t have to. Baby, this is more than enough,” he said but you shook your head at him.

“I want to, okay?” You popped the button of his jeans, tugging them off his legs. His erection stood tall through his boxers, the sight causing you to lick your lips. “Just let me take care of you. Always working so hard, you deserve a reward, don’t you think?”

Without a second thought, you pulled his boxers off, discarding them on the floor with his jeans. You wrapped your hand around his length, slowly moving your hand up and down. Seunghyun watched with hooded eyes, wanting to see every moment of this so he could burn it into his memory. There’d been many handjobs since the first one but he would never tire of the feeling of your hands bringing him pleasure. The fact that you were taking that next step tonight, it filled him with so much pride and admiration that you were comfortable enough with him. It was insane to think that weeks ago the most you’d done was make out and now here you were ready to wrap your lips around him.

He watched as you lowered your head, your tongue darting out to tease the head of his cock. He shuddered, fighting the urge to grab the back of your head and push himself into your mouth but he knew he needed to go at your pace. This was your first time giving anyone a blowjob — he was going to be patient even if it killed him.

Your hand still stroked him while your lips wrapped around the head of his cock, sucking lightly. It was the most erotic sight he’d ever witnessed — seeing his cock in your mouth. Slowly, almost agonisingly slow, you took more of him into your mouth. He let out a heavy, shaky breath. The feeling of your tongue on the underside of him was driving him inside. The wet, warm feeling of your mouth was nearly enough to make him bust there and then.

“Fuck, baby, that feels so good. You’re a natural.” He couldn’t help it, his hands finally finding the back of your head to guide you as you began to bob along his length. 

You began to move faster, spurred on by his praise and the way he was pushing you down with each movement. The nerves that had been bubbling up inside you leading up to this suddenly vanishing at the sounds he was making. You had been so scared you’d mess this up.

It was a few moments later when you pulled off for some air, your hand still working him. “Is that okay?”

“Fuck yeah, it is. Keep going. Don’t be afraid to take me a little deeper. I wanna feel you gagging around me,” he said, his voice a low whisper.

“Your wish is my command.” You took him back in your mouth, this time going deeper until you felt his tip hit the back of your throat. Seunghyun groaned deeply at the choking sound you made, unable to stop himself from bucking his hips up.

“Shit, that’s it. Fucking choke on it,” he held your head in place, finally unable to hold back as he began to thrust into your mouth. He was careful not to overwhelm you but you were taking it like a champ. The choking sound you made every time he hit the back of your throat, the way you swallowed around him — it was all too much. “I’m gonna cum. Swallow it all, princess.”

It took one more thrust into your mouth before his release finally hit him. Seunghyun moaned loudly, holding your head in place as he emptied himself into your mouth. You gagged around him, swallowing every spurt of his release.

Panting, Seunghyun relaxed back onto the bed, letting go of your head. You sat up, licking your lips. The way your cheeks were red and lips covered in your saliva and his release was enough for him to nearly harden again.

“Feeling more relaxed now?” You raised a teasing brow. Seunghyun said nothing, instead he wrapped one strong arm around your back, pinning you underneath him.

Seunghyun’s lips found your neck, his fingers sliding up under the shirt you were wearing. The gentle caress of his fingertips sent shivers down your spine. You tangled your fingers into his pink hair, tugging lightly on the strands causing him to groan against your neck.

“Shit, baby, keep doing that and I won’t be liable for my actions,” he mumbled against your skin, nipping lightly at your pulse point. “You drive me crazy.”

“Yeah?” You said breathlessly. With a surge of confidence, you rolled your hips up into his. Seunghyun’s fingers dug into the skin of your hips, holding you down. 

“Mhm. I love seeing you like this. Finding your confidence, using it to send me spiralling. It’s hot.” He sucked at your skin, leaving a dark mark there, letting everyone know you were his. “Would never have guessed that was your first time sucking dick.”

“Told you I was skilled with things other than my hands.”

“Yeah, yeah. I think you should let me repay the favour.”

“What did you have in mind?”

“Do you trust me?” He asked, his fingers moving to your face to move some of your hair out of your face, his eyes looking at you like you were the most precious thing in the world. And you were to him.

“Always,” you smiled.

Seunghyun kissed you deeply, his tongue pushing into your mouth to tangle with yours. As he did, he pushed your shirt up, revealing your panties. He grabbed the base of his cock, sliding the head along your slit through the fabric. You gasped into the kiss as he kept slowly rubbing himself against you.

When he pulled back, his eyes darted between your bodies, seeing the wet patch that had formed on your panties. It made his cock twitch as he rubbed himself between your clothed folds. “You’re so wet. You get this turned on from sucking me off?”

You could only whimper, bucking your hips up into him. Seunghyun decided to take it one step further. His fingers moved to push your panties to the side. “I promise you, I’m not going to push into you, okay? Just lay back, relax and enjoy how it feels.”

You nodded your head, placing all your trust in him. Seunghyun would never do anything to hurt you or betray you so you weren’t worried. Maybe a little nervous but this was all new territory for you so that was a given. This time, when he ran his cock through your folds, your body jerked at the feeling of skin on skin. Your slick coated his length, spurring Seunghyun on as he rubbed himself faster against you. His tip hit your clit causing you to moan out, fingers digging into the sheets.

“Your pussy feels so good against my cock, baby. I can’t fucking wait for the day I can sink myself into you,” he bit his lower lip, focused on bringing you pleasure. “Does it feel good?”

“Yeah,” you gasped as he hit your clit again. “Please, Seunghyun, I’m so close. I…I need more.”

“Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you.”

“Your mouth, please.” He wasted no time settling himself between your legs and getting to work. He ran his tongue along you, finding your clit, flicking it. The moan you made was like music to his ears. His lips sucked, causing your back to arch. You were so close, he could already tell. So, to get you there faster, he slid one finger inside you, pumping into you at a rapid pace.

“Come on, baby. Come all over my fingers and mouth. Let me taste you,” he mumbled against you. It was one particular thrust of his finger and flick of his tongue that had you coming. You tugged at his hair as your body tensed, your orgasm crashing over you harder than it had before. “That’s my good girl.”

He lapped up every bit of your release, his finger slowing down until you were finally finished. His lips kissed up your body, finding yours. You could taste yourself on his lips but you didn’t care.

“I love you,” you said breathlessly. Seunghyun pulled back, admiring the dazed look on your face. He was painfully hard again but that didn’t matter. He could take care of himself later. For now, he was content to bask in the fact his amazing girlfriend had taken another step towards finally giving herself to him.

“I love you too. So much,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead before laying down beside you, pulling you into his side. “And, hey, I’m feeling a lot more relaxed now. Job well done, my love.”

The giggle you let out made him smile, his heart feeling so full. Whatever he did in this world to deserve you, he was going to make sure he kept doing it. You were his light, the thing that made the bad days better. He was so ridiculously in love.

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[gabseyoo]

TORTURE — SAKUSA KIYOOMI

content: established relationship, slightly suggestive. word count: 0.5k.

note:  i went hiking last week (almost died) and also remembered that little drabble i wrote for rindou years ago and thought i will be nice to use it as inspiration for a kiyoomi fic. please enjoy <3.

You were going to kill him. Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow. But someday, Sakusa Kiyoomi was going to pay.

He looked completely unbothered—actually, no, worse. He looked refreshed. Like the incline of this mountain was doing wonders for his skin and cardiovascular system. 

Meanwhile, you were sweating through your shirt, leaning your entire body weight on a questionable walking stick you found around here—you weren’t entirely sure if it was helping or if you were just using it to dramatically display how close you were to giving up on life. Like, honestly, you were considering lying down and let the forest just take you. Complete the circle of life. 

Kiyoomi, on the other hand, was a picture of athletic bliss. His steps were steady, controlled. Breathing perfectly regulated. Hair slightly messy under his cap, a small layer of sweat glistening on his neck, which somehow only made him more attractive. He wasn’t even winded. In fact, he looked like he enjoyed this.

“You’re doing great.” He said, glancing over his shoulder at you, voice far too chipper for someone who had been walking uphill for what felt like the past three years. “Pace is a little... geriatric. But impressive stamina, babe.”

You glared at him through your exhaustion, if you had the strength, you would undoubtedly strangle him. “I hope a squirrel throws a nut at your head.”

Kiyoomi just laughed, reaching out to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear. His fingers lingered for a second longer than necessary, thumb brushing your cheek with gentle affection.

“You’re cute when you suffer.”

“Say that again and I’m pushing you off this trail.”

“Fair.” He leaned in, kissing your temple, then your cheek, and finally a quick peck on your lips. 

Despite the ache in your legs, the sweat in your eyes, and the betrayal of your lungs, you found yourself smiling. Annoyingly so.

Well, maybe you just needed a little affection to cheer you up. 

You stood up straighter, as if the action would work to convince yourself that you could end this path of torture. “Okay. Let’s finish this. How much further?”

Kiyoomi’s eyes sparkled like he’d just been waiting for you to ask.

“Just two more kilometers.”

Your smile dropped. “I take back every nice thing I’ve ever thought about you.”

He was already walking ahead, adjusting his cap—which, frankly, had no right to look that good on him. “You say that every time we do something active that doesn’t involve us being naked.”

“And yet you never learn—” You muttered. Then, louder, “Besides, I’d prefer to be naked and in bed right now.”

“We can do that when we get home.”

You scoffed, stepping around a particularly rude-looking rock. “Oh, baby. You’re not getting anything when we get home. Or the next three years. I’ve used up all my energy. It’s gone. I’m done.”

“You can just lie there, I’ll do all the work.” 

Well, that was kind of tempting…

“Just shut up and let’s finish this. You convinced me.” 

He laughed again, that warm, low sound carrying through the trees. Then, without looking back, he held out his hand behind him. You stared at it for a second and sighed, reaching forward to lace your fingers with his.

His hand curled around yours easily, firmly, and he gave it a reassuring squeeze as you continued walking, one tired step after another.

Maybe you’d survive this after all.

You hoped. 

[kuronarnze]

helelelelello! Could I request a Charles oneshot where reader matches his personality so they go like OMG TWINS, take your time 🫶

— 😈 anon

a/n: OMGG SO SORRY FOR THE REAAAAALLY LATE RESPONSE, I saw this in my draft and I was like WAIT HOW DID I NOT POST THIS YET OMG.. AAA so sorry 😈 anon 💔 I also took some more time cause I edited it a bit today, but please enjoy reading !!

Charles Chevalier x Reader !

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

“Two Headaches, One Braincell”

In which... Loki hires you as an analyst assistant. Within five minutes he regrets it. Within one hour, Charles finds his twin. Unfortunately for everyone else, you're both the same brand of disaster.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

When Loki hired you, he had high hopes.

Impressive soccer IQ. Top-tier play analyzer. Fast on your feet, even faster in brainwork. Quietly recommended by Noel Noa himself.

You seemed perfect.

Keyword: seemed.

The moment you walked into the meeting room—late, chewing gum, and wearing sunglasses indoors—Loki immediately regretted everything.

"You're late," he muttered.

You blew a bubble. Pop. "Fashionably."

He blinked. "We're in a basement."

"Then I’m basement fabulous."

Loki’s headache began early that day.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

The only reason he didn’t fire you was because—despite your personality—you were absurdly good.

Your predictions were eerily accurate. Your positioning logic was better than most pros. You dissected strategies like a scalpel-wielding maniac.

And worst of all?

You reminded him exactly of one person.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

The disaster truly began when Charles Chevalier strutted in mid-training, spotted you leaning against the fence with your clipboard, and said with a smirk:

“Who’s the new decoration? You look too cool to be staff.”

You glanced at him. “You look too loud to be a footballer.”

He blinked. Then grinned. “Ohhh, I like you.”

“Tragic. I don’t return feelings that fast.”

Loki, from across the field, facepalmed so hard he nearly knocked himself out.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

That was day one.

By day five, Charles and you were inseparable.

Shared memes during film review.

Bet on who could annoy Loki faster.

Argued mid-practice about who had the better curl shot (you both attempted it immediately after like children).

You once distracted an entire drill by shouting, “IF CHARLES MISSES THIS, HE OWES ME MACARONS.”

Charles missed it on purpose.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

“You two are identical,” Loki muttered one night, watching the two of you bicker while analyzing a match replay. “And that terrifies me.”

Charles leaned back in his chair, arm flung over your shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Well, coach, you hired them.”

“I know,” Loki groaned. “Worst mistake of my life.”

You grinned. “Admit it—you love us.”

“I love nothing.”

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

And the thing was...

Somewhere between all the chaos, the shouting, the mind games, and flirting masked as arguments—something changed.

Charles started walking you home after late analysis nights.

You started wearing his extra jacket “because it smelled expensive.”

He started glancing over mid-match to see if you were watching.

You always were.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

One night, after winning a big match, Charles jogged off the field and went straight to you.

Everyone expected his usual post-victory showboating. Instead, he smirked and leaned in close.

“So... want to go out sometime? I owe you macarons.”

You raised a brow. “Because you missed that shot on purpose?”

“Because I missed a lot of shots with you.”

Your heart stuttered.

The grin slipped into something a little more real.

You smacked his arm. “That was corny.”

“Still worked.”

You rolled your eyes. “Fine. You’re buying.”

“Deal.”

In the background, Loki groaned louder than the crowd.

“I should’ve fired both of you.”

and now Loki grew 20 times older

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

THANK YOU SM FOR REQUESTING <3 and tysm for reading, have a nice day 🫶💗

also here's the oneshot to the anons who have been missing a Charles work <33 I'll write more when I get better :)

[hazyserenityx]

The Moons that Protect Their Little Star:

Chapter 1: Welcome Home

Title: The Moons that Protect Their Little Star: Ch1: Welcome Home.

Synopsis: This is not a romance fanfic. AU. You live with your 5 older brothers: Sylus, Zayne, Xavier, Rafayel, and Caleb. Their world revolves around taking care of you. Just a day in the life of a little sister being spoiled, being protected, and being dotted on by her big brothers.

Chapter 2 >> (coming soon)

WC: 2.3K

“I’m home!”

You return home after a 3-day mission to the no-hunt zone. Recently, multiple anomalies have been detected, and the Unicorn Team has been tasked to find the source of these anomalies and eliminate them. You're glad that the mission ended successfully, you want nothing more than to go home instead of camping out in the forest every night. 

At the doorstep, you enter your passcode. 3-2-6-4-5-9, which spells out ‘family’ on the number pad, and hear a familiar click. You step inside, slipping your backpack off your shoulder and dropping it on the floor with a tired thud. It’s so nice to be home. 

You live in a beautiful quiet neighborhood. The house is large, but it feels cozy. It's beautifully furnished and it feels warm and comfortable. Scattered around your home are several miss matched decorations from the trinkets each of your brothers brings home from time to time. 

Candy jars filled with sweets, antique guns, model planes, paintings of the ocean, and the softest throw blankets present themselves in different parts of the house.. But you wouldn't have it any other way. Each item has their own stories to tell, and each one reminds you of the people that love you unconditionally.

Xavier follows behind you shortly after as he steps into the house. You sometimes find it annoying that you work with him everyday and in the same division, since you’re both top performing hunters on the Unicorn team under Captain Jenna. But you were thankful for him on this mission. Without him, you probably wouldn’t have been able to defeat the wanderers without getting injured. On missions like these, you feel fortunate to have Xavier there to protect you from harm. He was your star, and you were his galaxy.

“Take your shoes off and go take a shower first before coming down for dinner. I’ll take your stuff out of your backpack and put it away. I’ll also hang your jacket up for you.” 

“Thanks Xay Xay”

You shortly crawl up the stairs on all fours and make your way to the top step, when you see Rafayel stepping out of the bathroom. 

He gives you the biggest smile. “Welcome home cutie. I just drew a bath for you. The water is extra hot, just how you like it. I don’t know how you do it, I’d be a cooked fishy if I went in there.”

“Rafy!” In an instant, your exhaustion dissipates as you run to hug Rafayel. You missed him, as well as the others. Your family has always been the most important people in your life. “I missed you fishy”

“Haha, I missed you too” Rafayel lifts you up in his embrace and twirls you around ever so slowly. He doesn’t want to make you dizzy. “Xav  messaged us an hour ago and said you two were on your way home. You were passed out in the car apparently, you must be a tuckered little bodyguard”. He lets you down gently and tucks a strand of your hair behind your ears.

“Mhmm, but our Lumiere did most of the heavy lifting. Our intel suggests that there were only supposed to be a few low tier wanderers so we brought a junior to the mission for training. However, things got a bit complicated when S-tier wanderers appeared  and he had to ensure the junior’s safety. Luckily no one got seriously injured”. 

You start rubbing your eyes now as you feel yourself getting tired again after Rafayel lets you go.

“Alright little Angel fish, I’m glad you are both home safe and sound. Go enjoy your bath while it’s still piping hot. Sylus is cooking your favorite dishes, so don’t be too long” 

“Thanks Rafy, I love you!”. As Rafayel walks down the stairs, he doesn’t turn around but makes a little heart symbol with his thumb and index finger.

When you walked into the bathroom, the mirror was already slightly fogged and the air was thick with steam. 

The bath is the perfect temperature as soon as you climb in. You can smell the gentle scent of lavender and eucalyptus, your favorite. Rafayel must’ve added a few drops of essential oil in the bath. You smiled, the kind of small, worn smile that only appears when someone understood you before you said anything. 

As you climb into the bath, the soreness in your body slowly fades away. Muscles you didn’t even know were tight slowly melted. The quiet splash of water echoed softly, and your body finally allowed itself to rest after a strenuous three days.

You slowly sink lower into the bathtub when you feel a little sting on your ankle. You lift your foot up and notice a cut. You don’t think much of it as you close your eyes to let yourself decompress.

You almost fell asleep in the bathtub, until your tummy reminded you that it’s empty and it would like some sustenance. You slowly step out of the bathtub and notice one of your favorite sets of PJs are neatly folded on the counter. They’re light purple with red and pink seashells on them. You roll your eyes gently. Of course Rafayel would choose these for you.

After drying off and getting changed, you place your dirty laundry in the hamper and step out of the bathroom. You see Caleb’s study room door slightly ajar and a faint light radiating inside. You peek inside and notice he’s reading some documents on his computer. He must still be busy with work even late into the evening. 

Caleb doesn’t come home very often. He works in the Farspace Fleet and is in Skyhaven most of the time, but he had a week off and decided to come to Linkon for a visit, specifically to visit his little apple. A soft sigh escapes you. Why must there be a mission while Caleb is here. You wished you could’ve spent more time with him.

Caleb heard your little sigh and looked up. His furrowed brow instantly relaxes and his face lights up as he notices you peeking in.

“I see you standing there, are you just going to pretend you were passing by?”

He turns off his computer and starts walking towards you and you find yourself tearing up a little bit. You really missed him. You see Rafayel, Xavier and Zayne almost every day, but Caleb and Sylus don’t always come home. Everyone’s so busy after all. You know Caleb’s missions can be dangerous. From time to time, he’ll send you little letters and notes telling you to eat well, to take care of yourself and to tell you how precious you are to him. But you don’t particularly like these notes, because you know he writes them for you before every dangerous mission in the deepspace tunnel. 

You give him the most gentle hug, snuggle your face into his shirt. Your voice muffled as you tell him how much you missed him.

“I missed you too Pipsqueak, a little more than you realize” He gently pats the back of your head and notices it’s still dripping wet. “I see that you didn’t dry your hair properly again, I’ll go grab your towel, go downstairs and relax on the couch, I’ll come down to dry your hair for you”

You love it when Caleb dries your hair. He’s patient, gentle and it feels so nice. Even though you know he must be tired from working, you decide to be a little selfish and accept his offer.

Walking down the stairs you can smell the delicious food being prepared in the kitchen. As you make your way to the living room, you hear Sylus humming a little tune in his deep baritone voice. It’s… a little offkey, but you like it nonetheless. You hum along as you walk through the kitchen. 

Sylus sees you approaching and a little smirk appears on his face. “There you are lil’ miss”

You can’t help but blink at the spread along the counter - all your favorite dishes. It smells so good that your mouth starts salivating. 

“Lil S, you cooked all this? You’ve really outdone yourself” you lift yourself up on your tippy toes and headbutts his shoulder. You don’t know why you did it, but you just did. Sylus doesn’t object. Call it cuteness aggression if you will.

“Zayne wouldn’t leave me alone about making sure you eat today. He was worried that you would be too tired to eat, so I had to pull out all the stops” Sylus replied, plating everything neatly. “Here, drink this first”

Sylus hands you a warm bowl of soup. You take a sip and your eyes instantly narrow, you have the biggest grin on your face. It’s delicious and the nausea from hunger dissipates instantly.

You slowly make your way to the living room, careful to not spill the soup. Caleb’s already there with a towel, hair brush and hair dryer in hand. “Come sit, you can have your soup while I dry your hair Pips”

When your hair is dry and dinner is ready, the five of you start to have dinner in the living room while watching a new movie about a zombie Korean boy band. Zayne was just wrapping up an emergency cardiopulmonary bypass for one of his patients. You wonder if he’ll be home soon, the food will get cold. You can't help but feel a little sad that he isn't home yet. You missed him.

But as soon as the thought crosses your mind, you hear the click of the front door and Zayne steps in. You dart up immediately but by doing so, hit your knee on the table. “Ouch! Stupid table.” You slowly limp your way over to Zayne and give him a big hug.

“How dare you hurt her, you dumb table” Caleb suddenly says.

“Are you really going to make an enemy with Onichynus’s leader?” Sylus says, as he aggressively pokes the table.

“The ocean holds grudges and my sharks are hungry” Rafayel retorts.

“No matter how comfortable you are to nap on, I won’t forgive you for hurting her” Xavier says.

Zayne pinches the bridge of his nose. His brothers are all so stupid, he thinks to himself. But his thought quickly goes away when you tug on his arm and pull him into the living room where the others are. “Come on! Dinner’s getting cold, it’s time to eat. I missed you Zayney” A warm smile appears on Zayne’s face. He missed not seeing you at home for the past several days. Your smile always brightens them all up. No matter how annoying his brothers can be, Zayne is grateful that his family was all together. This home is complete.

As you two make your way to the living room, Zayne notices that you’re favoring one of your legs. “Did you injure your foot?”

The other 4 immediately look at you with serious faces. Uh oh.

“I think it’s just a little cut, have dinner first, and then you can check it out”

You should’ve known and hid it better. Zayne and the other four immediately got to work. They sat you down on the couch, Rafayel went to get the first aid kit, Sylus places a cushion behind your back, Caleb and Xavier’s eyes darkened and they secretly plot revenge on all the wanderers. How dare they hurt their little sister! 

Zayne calmly and gently lifts your foot and examines the cut. It really isn’t that serious, but to prevent infection, Zayne carefully disinfects the wound and wraps it with a bandage with little snowmen on it. Good as new.

“Alright. Alright. I’m really okay! Let’s all have dinner together now. The food is getting cold.” You smiled and said. 

Your five brothers relax and ease up a bit, but eventually you all return to your dinner. The food is delicious. They each take turns putting food on your plate. But you’re not complaining. You were so hungry that you could devour all the food on the table. In silence, you all watch what would become one of your favorite movies. 

After dinner, Zayne stepped out for a few minutes and returned with a bag. “Here, ice cream mochi. Green tea and mango, your favorites”. Zayne is the best, you think to yourself.

You and everyone else claimed spots across the couch and floor, throwing pillows everywhere and pulling out blankets like it was a sleepover. You’re nestled between Caleb and Sylus, your feet tucked under Zayne’s blanket. Sylus sits on the armchair, the one no one dares to sit on when he’s home. That’s his chair, he’s very particular about it. Xavier is passed out on the carpet. He’ll be asleep for a few days, maybe more. You giggle to yourself. You all quietly enjoy each other’s company as you watch TV..

“Okay” Rafayel says, grabbing the remote. “First one to complain about the show gets banned from dessert”

“I’m the one who bought dessert” Zayne says, raising his eyebrow

“Puh-lease, I’m the one holding the remote” Rafayel counters smugly.

You laughed. You missed these silly banters. You closed your eyes for a moment, letting the sounds of the show, the warmth of your brothers and the hum of comfort settle deep into your chest. You’re fully relaxed and safe at home. 

In your home, with five big brothers who spoil you in their own quiet, careful ways, you let the drowsiness consume you, realizing you didn’t have to be strong and brave in the house. You didn’t have to smile when you didn’t want to. You didn’t have to ask to feel protected and loved.

They just knew.

And tonight, they reminded you in all their own ways, just how important you are to them.

As you drift off to sleep, and as the others join along, you know that you and your big brothers will all have the sweetest dreams.

[astridthevalkyrie]

A Scene Popped Into My Head But Instead Of Writing A Whole AU I’m Just Going To Write That One Scene <3

—> Scene Capture Fics Masterlist

—> Today’s Feature: Lawyer Levi!

—> a/n: yeah this is really happening

A small cup is placed onto the average-sized desk you occupy in your neat little cubicle. "Here," Levi scathes, "dinner."

With a winning beam, you take a sip of what's likely ten pounds of sugar mixed with milk. "Thank you kindly."

He sits down in one of the chairs in front of your desk, sipping his own tea (already transferred from a plastic container into his favorite mug that he keeps in his drawer so that no one can touch it). "Working overtime today?"

"Like you wouldn't believe." You crack your neck, and Levi shudders in displeasure at the sound. "Might still be here tomorrow."

"And you'll find all your logged hours have mysteriously disappeared."

"Levi," you say sweetly, turning away to go back to the motion you were working, "you're the case manager, not HR. Why are you trying to ruin my party?"

"Gotta keep up my reputation," he mumbles, hiding a smile in his cup.

That's true, Levi is known to be a little bit of a hardass. Little bit is probably understating it. You remember the dirty looks thrown his way when he'd told everyone that if they wanted to work from home, their monitors in the office had to be turned on so that their activity could be monitored.

You didn't mind too much. You're no slacker. It's why the case manager chooses your cubicle to drink his morning tea in while you munch on cereal from the office kitchen, it's why he simply strolls by at 12:30 and informs you, "Oi, we're going out for lunch today," and doesn't accept you paying him back afterwards, and it's why he gets you your sugary dinner every night you end up staying late.

Levi likes your work ethic. And maybe he likes other things too.

"By the way," he tosses out noncommittally, "we can set up my inbox to be shared with yours."

"Yeah?" You're paying attention as you type, brows raising in interest.

"Mmhm. The same way I have mine set up with Erwin's. You'd be able to see my inbox. That way, you don't need me to send you the code every time you sign into e-file anything."

Your fingers halt on the keyboard. Quietly, your eyes meet his, and your mouth opens, lips parted, trying to find the words to explain why you don't want that.

It's certainly a hassle. You know that. Needing someone else to give you a code means that A, it's a pain to have to message someone or walk to their office just to simply sign in, and B, the other person has to stay past their working hours if you do just in case you need to file something. Which is exactly what Levi does for you.

And that means late past working hours, it's just you and him at the office, both subject to your workaholic whims. And it's not like Levi doesn't have work too. He always ends up working on something. But you know that work could easily be done from home if you didn't need codes to input into text boxes that would expire in one minute. So maybe, maybe, you always had extra work to do. Maybe there were a few things that could be filed at 4 PM that you just had to re-edit and double check before sending them out at 5:30. Maybe the candle that Levi always lights up at 5:10 is just a nice job benefit, something sweet from the company besides your paycheck.

"Doesn't IT need to set that up?" is the argument you land on, even though there was definitely a dozen others that would probably work better. Whoever said being a lawyer made you good at coming up with reasons? (Uh.) "Should I put in a request with them? I know they can take weeks to—"

"No, I know how to do it." Levi takes another sip of his tea. His tie is loose, something else that only happens after hours. It always makes you swallow just a little too difficultly. "I can set it up right now."

Damn!

"Aren't there privacy concerns with me seeing your emails?" No, your Ethics professor from years ago chides, Rule 1.10, Imputation, a firm of lawyers is essentially one lawyer for purposes of the rules governing loyalty to the client. Levi raises a brow as though to mirror your thoughts.

"Yes, I wonder how many lawsuits we'll have if you have access to all the information that I upload to the firm shared drive anyway."

You chuckle weakly, trying not to squirm because of his teasing smirk. Dammit, with the black suit and loosened tie and tousled hair, Levi has no idea how good he looks. You can normally think better than this. One stern, sharp, handsome, witty case manager should not be capable of making your brain stutter.

"Do we need anyone's approval?" Last ditch effort.

"Mine. I say yes." Shut down. Case closed.

Rolling your chair back a little, you gesture for him to go ahead, nibbling on your lower lip in frustration. This is it, then, you think, as Levi stands to connect his inbox to yours. No more late nights, no more conversations with just the two of you, no more being walked to your car with a pat on your head telling you to drive safe, brat.

Levi is efficient as he navigates your email, and you take the time to observe him sadly. Aside from how hot he looks in your space like this, he's so meticulous, so put together even at the end of the day. His jawline is sharp, but relaxed. He smells like tea leaves and detergent. His clothes are fitted to him, the white button down only gently stretching against his chest (awooga) and the black suit and pants accentuate his hips so well...

God, you'll miss being privy to this up close.

"Done." Levi stands up straight. "Now you can have the damn code whenever you need it."

"Thanks," you mumble, trying your best to not sound dejected but failing miserably.

He pauses, and turns to you—and then does something he's never done in the months of overtime you've shared together. His hands come up and land on your armrests, and he leans in as you lean back, eyes wide. His steely eyes shimmer in amusement.

"Now that that's over with," he tilts his head further down and you don't back away this time, but your breath hitches, "how about we get some real dinner?"

Pause.

What?

"Are you..." You swallow, too scrambled by his proximity to think clearly. "Are you asking me..."

"To get dinner? On a date? To stop making excuses to spend time with me?" Levi snorts, his cheek brushing against yours as he whispers in your ear, "All of the above."

When he pulls away, your jaw is still slack, unable to believe that Levi Ackerman of all people had just told you to cut the shit and go out with him already. Whoever said being a lawyer meant you had to expect the unexpected? (Uh.)

The only thing you manage to sputter out is, "But...I have work to do."

"Come in early tomorrow morning." He puts his finger under your chin and closes your mouth, looking every bit as terrifying as he does in court. "I'm not logging your overtime either way."

[brownsuugahh]

Are you a man like that? Chapter 3.

A/N: Okay, so this chapter whoop my ass. I just didn't know how to knit this encounter to be close to something happeing but not really. Also, I knew Hennessy and Smoke and connected very deeply but we need to leave space for Stack and for Hennessy's internal conflict. I am heeavily reading everyone here to find inspiration on how to this better. But I guess I'll make on the way. On the other hand, you can tell english is not my first language just by me trying to convey different emotions and range with the same words, lol, a work in progress.

“Did you unpack already?” Said Wanda while she and Hennessy walked to the parking lot of the DA’s building.

“Most of it, yeah”, she snapped quickly, thinking exactly what she wanted to wear.

She was weirdly excited. The last time she went to a club was about 18 months ago, before the Mastroiani’s investigation started, and before she had to pause her life to dismantle that man criminal empire. So, this could probably the first and last time she partied before she jumped at the SmokeStack Twins case.

“Have you seen them?”, she looked at Wanda in the driver’s seat. Her dark skin glistened against the street lights, she had beautiful features, her eyes specially, charming eyes bright and convincing, a very short afro dyed blond and a very athletic figure. She was beautiful and strong.

“No, why?” Hennessy didn’t respond. She haven't stop thinking about them since she received the case, she look for them in social media and found pictures. They were vastly different, their clothes, their demeanor...

“They’re hot though”. A side smile formed in Wanda’s face while looking at Hennessy out the corner of her eyes.

Hennessy didn’t respond. An air of nervousness seem to filled the car.  Yes, they were hot, but more than that, they were beautiful in a broken kind of way. World had hardened them, but they also seem sad in their pictures, specially Smoke. Stack was another different thing; he smiled through the pain. She remembered the pictures, those piercing eyes who seemed to look only at her… a tingly sensation appeared in the middle of her folds, she bit her lower lip and just when a filthy thought was forming in her head a loud cackle brought her back to reality.

“Is okay Hennessy”, Wanda loudly retorted, “Them boys fine as hell”. The laugh stopped, and she turned to look at her with a heavy gaze, the twinkle of her eyes suddenly grew deeper. “Just don’t go there”.

“What do you mean?”, Hennessy asked with some concern in her voice. “Oh hon, you’ll see”.

____

It was a little after midnight.

Wanda and Hennessy had some dinner and got ready for a night at The Juke.

Hennessy wore an emerald green backless dress, curly hair loose and red lipstick. Her brown skin looked bright against the green and tightness of the dress that hugged every curve, a little pouch in the belly could be seen through the fabric and a shadow of her belly button was also evident, she loved it, she thought it was sexy and unique. The naked back of her dress emphasized the roundness of her ass, and her boobs peeked out just enough from the draped neckline of the dress.

“Dam girl, you clean up nice”, Wanda responded at her sight, while she bathed herself in lotion and Valentina by Valentino. “I could say the same about you”; a white strapless dress decorated the frame of Wanda's body with a slit in the right leg showing just enough to make her sexy. Her deep black skin even more profound in that color.

The drive to the club was quiet.

Hennessy was incredible nervous and horny. If this wasn’t a work thing, she probably took someone at home, but she is here just to look at some guys in their natural environment. She wanted to assess their weaknesses, who they talk to, how they talked to, how they moved in real life, how they smelled? She smiled to herself, thinking about this because it had been a while since she felt somewhat attracted to someone, sometwo?, and they had to be exactly the two guys she was meant to hunt down and put in prison.

A tale as old as time, a cliché. A story for romance books that weren’t even original… and yet, thinking about them make her feel warm inside. She wanted them, but knew perfectly she could not have them. However, for tonight they didn’t know her, they didn’t know she was there to take them down, for tonight and only for tonight she could tease.

____

The Juke was packed.

A long line of people waiting to be lucky enough to be let inside.

When Hennessy and Wanda arrived and cut the line straight to the hostess, Mary stare at them for a few seconds and then let them in.

Wanda grabbed Hennessey’s hand. Loud afro beats were played by a DJ, bodies clashing together to the music, purple and pink lights decorated the place, joy and freedom could be felt in the air and in Hennessy’s body, she wasn’t a dancer but felt like moving, she wasn’t a drinker but she really wanted a vodka soda, she wasn’t a flirt but desperately need it a tumble with a stranger. Upon arriving to the bar she asked for a soda with lemon and promise herself to let loose. Is jut one night.

“They usually stay in the balcony in the middle”, Wanda told Hennessey, “and they usually have a bunch of girls waiting outside their VIP”.

Hennessy turned around to look at the balcony and there he was looking straight at her Elijah “Smoke” Moore, vape in his hand, heavy and deep look and a mysterious aura that was both enticing and unsettling. She knew she got to go back to the bar, that she wanted to dance and canvas the place, that she wanted to observe the twin’s dynamic, but she just couldn’t stop looking at this man gaze on her body.

“Hen?”, Wanda’s voice pulled her from her mind (Smoke’s mind?). “Wanna go meet them?”

“What?”

“I mean; with the way you’re looking at each other…”

“WHAT?” you repeated again, as if two seconds ago your eyes weren’t locked on him.

“We came to see them, let’s go, let’s talk to them. You can test the waters before the war, they don’t even know who you are”.

Wanda was right, but she just didn’t trust herself enough to be around them.

She opened her mouth to say –no, let’s just leave it like that, is not ethical for me to approached them and she actually had a very compelling legal argument, however no sound left her mouth. A small laugh appeared in Wanda’s face, and she loudly scream “C’mon bitch, this not gonna happen again” and both of you end up on the second floor just outside Smoke and Stack VIP room.

____

The twins saw Hennessy and Wanda in the cameras that pointed the entrance hall.

Stack was jumping in the couch, yelling “BRO, BRO, SHE’S HERE, MOTHA FUCKA SHE IS HEREEEEEE”. A combination of excitement and fear in his voice. He told Mary through a walkie to let them in.

Smoke? That was a whole different thing.  

As soon as he heard Stack let them in he stood up to the balcony and started searching her in the crowd. A couple of seconds after that, she emerged in the middle of the dance floor. Her curly big hair flowing through the people, her hips slightly moving to the beat of the music. He had been seeing her for months in pictures and interviews and she was beautiful, but in real life… her smile illuminated the whole dance floor. At that point a need invaded his body, a yearning he hadn’t known so far, a flame was ignited in his chest… he had to have her.

He saw her at the bar, he saw her asking for a drink and then he saw her looking straight at him. Her brown eyes locked into him. Time felt like stopping. How come he didn’t know feeling like this was possible…

A few moments after, he lost her. She moved, she went running with her friend, he searched again in the crowd and didn’t find her. He looked at Stack confused, pouting like a child that just lost his favorite toy and then he saw Stack stand up to the door.

“Yo, Smoke, we have some guest” a huge grin decorated his face.

The small curtain opened and there they were. Hennessy in all her green glory and Wanda, shining through her white dress.

Stack kicked out the other girls and invited Hennessy and Wanda to sit.

“So, what can we do for a couple of fine ladies this evening?” Stack asked, being overly polite, almost unnecessarily.

“We just wanted to have a good time”, Wanda responded quickly.

Smoke stood at the balcony, looking at Hennessy. His heavy gaze roamed her body but locked in her eyes. She didn’t move either.

“Do you need us to leave you alone?” Wanda ask jokingly. Hennessy look at her in utter shock.

“Nah, we leaving”. Smoke grabbed her by her wrist and leave the room quickly.

Wanda tried to stopped them, hastily, however, Hennessey told her something and she let them go. They stomp out of there, a few minutes later their where in the back of a SUV.

“Where are we going?” he asked, and a hint of fear was in her voice.

“My house”, he answered point blank as if it was obvious, or natural, as if she belonged there.

She was not thinking straight. She knew she shouldn’t be there, but her body was making the decisions. That was the most gorgeous man she had ever seen in her life. She need it him, she need it his hands in her body, his lips in theirs, she felt that she need it him to breath.

The drive was quiet. The tension could be cut by a knife. He didn’t look at her, but she never separated her eyes from his frame, she was afraid if she did she would go back to that club and never had the courage to go up the second floor.

After a mere seven-minute drive, they arrived to a loft. Open spaces, classic, filled with plants, music, it was weirdly warm and cozy, a lot of heavy fabrics and colors.

He went straight to the kitchen and poured a glass of wine.

“Sit”, he said coldly. She wasn’t able to question the instruction. She took a seat in front of him in the kitchen island.

“What are you doing at my club?”; he asked with zero expression in his face. “Dancing”, she responded flirting uncomfortably.

A sarcastic laugh appeared in his face. “So, you come to dance at enemy’s territory? I know for a fact you’re not stupid, so what's this?”. Fear appeared in her face. Looking at him directly she took a deep breath and somehow found the courage to talk. “So, you know who I am?”, she asked coyly.

He circled the kitchen island and got dangerously close to her. ”I liked to know my enemies Miss Hennessy Rodgers, from the 100. Your grandmother is a cleaning lady, your mother works as a secretary at a law firm and your cousin has a hair salon in the heart of the neighborhood. DA for the state of New York, you just put in jail Massimo Mastroiani and now you’re supposed to send my brother and me to the hole. Am I close?”

Hennessy lost it. He had named her family.

“Am gonna say this slow, so you can understand”, she looked straight at his eyes, lifting her head so she could reach his tall frame. “Let this be the first and last time you name my family Elijah”.

He violently reached their face by the chin, “you cannot call me Elijah, baby, you’re not mine yet”.

Her heart was throbbing, the word “yet” echoed in her mind. She wanted to kill him but also wanted for him to make her his. Her body was trembling, her breathing was shallow, she need it that filthy mouth sucking her folds and at the same time she wanted to throw him and his brother to prison and hide the key. She hated him the same way amounts she wanted him. Still she managed to find the strength to pushed him. He let go of her face, but didn’t move, instead the space between them seem to reduce.

“Tell me you don’t want me close to you, baby, asked me and I will send you home right now”. She knew that she had to go, she knew that tomorrow at work Wanda would tell everyone she left the club with Smoke Moore, her career was at risk. This was dangerous man, he was a criminal, a drug dealer, a scar in the face of her childhood neighborhood. She couldn’t want him and yet she was there feeling her insides creaming and craving for this man touch, she wanted to tell him to let her go and yet she stayed quiet.

He rubbed her nose against her temple. She could feel him, smell his scent at wood and tobacco, her skin began to tingle. “You’re beautiful, ya know that? I cannot stop thinking about you since I saw you for the first time”. He touched her face and then placed the tip of her fingers in her nipples. “Don’t touch me”, she muttered. “What’s that baby?”, he said growing even closer. Her legs started to open. “Your mouth said one thing and but your body… asked me, just asked me to sweet, sweet fuck you”.

She wanted it.

She was burning for it.

She couldn’t. What about her job, what about her mission, what about her family? Everything run through her mind at the same time.

But she was lost in his eyes, she could feel his engorged groin against her body and she need it him, she had a yearning and he was the answer.

“Just one time”, she said to herself, it was almost a whisper, a secret for her to be known, a desire she didn’t want anyone to know. She felt herself trembling, a struggle between wanting and her deep moral compass, was it that deep? After all she was there, she left that club with Elijah Smoke Moore, without any resistance. She took a seven-minute drive and didn’t even speak to him, like she had always belong there her whole life and all of the other things she had done were just ways to there.

“What was that baby?”, he said lifting his chin to him even closer. “Just one time” she repeated, this time, a little louder.

“Nah, ask me nicely”. It wasn’t common for her to receive instructions from a man. Actually it wasn’t common for her to spent time with any man at all. The occasional booty call was always in her terms, no speaking just a quick and effective orgasm and a see you never before riding a cab for the evening. Tonight, was something else. Resisting didn’t really make sense to her, she just wanted to give him everything. She need it to give him everything.

“Fuck me”, the words left her mouth, they came from her body not her mind. The competent lawyer, the professional DA that had come to Chicago to get herself a career didn’t exist, not tonight. 

He licked his lips and looked at her for a second. He lavished in her face, her lips and her elegant neck and her abundant chest. He grabbed by her legs and carried her to his bedroom. A dim yellow light covered the room and, the brightness of the city also came from the floor to ceiling windows. She was a complete nervous mess. She could feel her pussy wet, goosebumps all over her body, a feel of anticipation that was new.

He placed her in the bed, delicately, like she was a precious jewel, a treasure to be discovered.

She was eager and sad.

He kneeled in front of her. “You alright?”

Tears left her eyes. “I should not be here; I’m supposed to sent you to jail in the next few months. But I can’t stop thinking about you and your brother, since the first time I saw you in pictures, since I read your story”, she ran her hand over his face, slowly, she placed a finger in her lips and he closed his eyes. She kissed his temple, his eyes, the side of her lips. “I can’t be here”.

He thought about it for a moment. He knew she wasn’t being herself. The powerful women he had seen on tv was quiet and stiff, he didn’t want her like that, he wanted her to accept his offer of sin with complete surrender but with extreme ownership. He just wanted tears of pleasure in her eyes.

“I’ll sent you home baby, let’s go”.

She went inside the elevator but before she left, she looked straight to his eyes, “Elijah…you already mine”.

[freefallen-snx]

What Works For You (M)

I've posted some (read: hardly any) original stuff here before, but this is the first time I'm posting my two main OCs! (pls be nice they mean the world to me :'))

This is something I wrote quite a long time ago (I haven't written anything properly in a while hhhh..) but figured I would share it here :3

This fic contains male sneezing, mentions of mess but nothing too detailed. I only ever wrote this one part and intended to keep it as a one-shot but I may continue it one day..

-

Probably the last thing that Ren expected to hear when he entered the familiar warm, cinnamon-scented abode that was Rocco’s home, was a sneeze.

He and Rocco had been friends forever, and Ren had barely known Rocco to get sick. It just.. didn’t really happen. Of course, it did, but Rocco was either a master at hiding it, or never seemed to suffer too badly for anyone around him to pay too much attention. But here they were, Ren having walked the short voyage across the snow-dusted planes of their city, the air so crisp it made his breath dance before his face in swirling cyclones, to a sudden, quiet, but forceful expulsion.

“h’tsh!.. hH’TSCH’!!”

Or two.

Honestly, Ren hadn’t expected Rocco to be home at all. He had a vague recollection of Rocco mentioning some sort of exhibition that he was due to attend that day, so had made the pillage with all expectancies of finding an empty house. The only real reason why Ren had even ventured out in this weather was for something to do; the winter months brought boredom, there being little to do around the farm aside from insulate, insulate, insulate, and there was only so much insulating that Ren could do before he wanted to bury himself in the mounds of hay and never resurface.

He had gone with the expectation of finding an abandoned house, meaning he would just have to traipse back to the farm again to review his options of self-hay-burying. But at least it would have killed some time in the interim.

Understandably, it had been a shock to hear the sudden, sharp expulsions coming from just beyond the lounge area. Ren had let himself into the property (for better or worse, Rocco had entrusted Ren with his own key) and had been hovering around the lounge when he heard it. At least it confirmed that Rocco was home, which was as confusing as it was relieving; at least Ren wouldn’t have to weather through another listless afternoon in solitude.

Attention suitably piqued, Ren picked his way between the furniture and empty take-out cartons decorating the place, only feeling a little bad for dripping water from the cuffs of his jacket; given the state of the room, a few water droplets were hardly going to make too much of an impact. It’d dry before Rocco noticed anyway, probably.

There was a small door, looking much like a closet, beneath the stairs that led down to Rocco’s workshop. The door was ajar, which was probably why Ren had even heard Rocco at all; it wasn’t like his sneezes were usually terribly vociferous, unlike Ren’s monstrosities. Pushing it fully open revealed a dilapidated-looking set of stairs leading down into the dungeon that was Rocco’s work space. The stairs creaked ominously beneath Ren’s footfalls, and he swore that one day he would fall right through and end up in Narnia or something.

Luckily, somehow, the descent was unceremonious and Ren was met with the dull, artificially lit space that was Rocco’s workshop. It looked the same as it always did; easels with white sheets draped over them lining the walls, empty spray canisters decorating the floor like aluminium flowers, paint spatters across practically every surface. It was a concrete room, built probably as shelter from bombs in the war. No one really knew; Rocco’s father had inherited the house from his father, who had traded it in as some sort of deal after the war had been over. The origins of said concrete casket were unknown.

The only item that was different in the room was that of a particular individual situated before a wooden easel, clearly working on a piece mounted against it. The floppy sandy-blonde hair, loose-fitted jeans with rips across the knees and black and green plaid flannel shirt that hung over a plain black tee were familiar enough, but the cast to said familiar individual’s expression was not.

Obviously, it was Rocco, but he looked.. odd. Ren could only see his profile, but from what Ren could see, Rocco’s head was tipped back and he was squinting at the ceiling. Ren followed his eyeline, curious to know if there was anything noteworthy there to stare at, but upon finding nothing, his eyes returned to his friend. Rocco's lips were softly parted, a sliver of his teeth visible. His nose was scrunched delicately, a small crease or two etched in between his eyes, just at his bridge. His nostrils appeared to be pulsing, flaring to a hardened edge on every muted breath. Speaking of breaths, they seemed to be coming quicker, almost pant-like. Rocco’s shoulders hunched a couple of times, his expression morphing into a placid snarl, and it was only when his hands snapped up in tandem with his torso snapping down that realization hit Ren.

“—h’tssh!.. H’TISSCH’!!uhhhh…”

There was a long sigh afterwards (from Rocco, not Ren; he’d just flinched backwards as though someone had tried to shoot him) followed by Rocco pawing at his nose and sniffling liquidly. His eyes blinked open, his expression uneasy, and Ren had to wonder if there might be more. It certainly seemed that way, if he had to guess.

“Bless you,” Ren voiced, a brow quirked. It was Rocco’s turn to appear as though he’d been shot that time, actually staggering back a step with a hand to his chest. Whatever tickle had still lingered in his nose was apparently chased away by the shock of Ren standing there just feet away from him. It seemed as though Rocco hadn’t even noticed he had been there.

“Y'wanna warn a guy next time?” Rocco growled, lowering his hand and returning to pad his hand against the underside of his nose a few times with another series of damp sniffles. “You almost gave me a heart attack.”

Ren couldn’t help the smirk that traced his lips as he closed the gap between himself and Rocco, edging closer to him. Rocco just rolled his eyes and returned to the work he was doing. It was a painting, apparently, and Ren hadn’t noticed the brush in his hands until he got close enough to be able to see (which was just a couple of feet beside Rocco) that Rocco was indeed painting. 

Though from that close proximity, Ren was also able to spot other details too; mainly, Rocco’s complexion. His skin was pallid, flecks of colour dotting his cheeks. His nose looked a little blushed, like Rocco may have been scrubbing at it cruelly over the course of a few hours. Maybe even days. His eyes were a little glassy too, sort of unfocused with a wavering quality that could only mean one thing; Rocco was either stoned out of his tree, or he had come down with something. Both were relatively plausible, but if Ren had to guess, he’d go with the latter. Despite his apparent distraction, Rocco seemed a little too… grounded, to have been smoking questionable substances. Plus, he was sniffling, and it didn’t sound dry. Honestly, it sounded like he was trying to suck mud through a straw every time he sniffed, which was enough to make Ren wince back a little. He loved Rocco, but he didn’t want to be loving his germs.

It was then – when Ren flinched away and subconsciously looked down to the floor – that he noticed an array of what looked to be tissues. Or, objects that were apparently making work as tissues anyway; there was a crumpled bandana, several spatterings of what appeared to be napkins, maybe a tissue or two, but mostly, there were screwed up little balls of blue roll. No wonder his nose looked so abused…

“Are you feeling alright?” Ren asked, blunt. Never one to execute much tact anyway, it was even less when he was around Rocco. Though there was barely a reaction from Rocco, aside from a side glance and another snuffle.

“Yeah,” was the answer given, clearly no intention of elaborating. Though the statement was proved false when Rocco ducked to the side, face nestled against his lifted arm, as a round of rough coughs shook him to the core. Ren’s expression scrunched in mild distaste, waiting until it drew to a close. It didn’t take long, but Rocco was left a little breathless and flushed afterwards, his expression pinching when he swallowed. Seemed his throat probably hurt too.

“Don’t you have that thing to go to today?” Ren continued, as though nothing had happened. Even though those coughs had sounded pretty terrible; wet, deep in his lungs, clearly having built over the span of a few days. It was unlikely Rocco had woken up in this state that morning.

“The exhibition?” Rocco asked absently. His expression was losing focus again, and when Ren glanced over to nod, he noticed the subtle flare to Rocco’s nostrils again. Something was clearly bothering him, and this time, it barely took any provocation. Suddenly, Rocco’s hand lowered from the canvas that he’d been painting and he once again ducked into his elbow.

“..h’TSH’!.. hh-!.. hH’TIZSSH’!!ihhhh..

The resounding sigh following that one was much less patient, no longer relieved but born of nothing but inconvenience and frustration. Foregoing hygiene, Rocco just grabbed the bottom of his shirt and lifted it to his face, exposing a small sliver of his stomach briefly, rubbing against his nose a few times before dropping it back down. That confirmed it in Ren’s mind; Rocco was definitely sick, no matter how much he might protest the fact.

Before Ren could comment, however, Rocco’s attention was back on his canvas – which, on examination, Ren realized to be a pretty creepy scene; willowed trees, black as night, contrasting a misty, murky horizon – and he continued the conversation as though nothing had even happened.

“Yeah. Don’t have to be there until 11 though.” Another quick-fire round of coughs were blasted from Rocco before he even got a chance to cover them. His arm came up too late, a couple being vented against his canvas before he finished up the latest set into his arm. Yet more liquid sniffles commenced after, and Ren visibly rolled his eyes.

“You really think you should be going?” Ren asked, folding his arms across his chest while giving Rocco an incensed look. Rocco just scowled at him, nose wrinkling as he scrunched it to one side.

“Why sh-.. shouldn’t I g-… go?” Rocco managed to ask, voice jumping with audible hitches. Ren would have answered, but knew it was pointless, so instead just took a step back and waited. And waited. And hitch.. waited. And hitchgasphitch-! waited -

"h'TDZSH'!.. H'TSZSHH'!!iuhh.."

Those two really seemed to take the wind out of Rocco's sails, and he stayed hunched over for a moment, sniffling repeatedly into his cupped hands which he'd managed to tent around his mouth and nose just in time. At first, Ren thought it was because they'd been so strong (had nothing on his own, but for Rocco, they had been mighty) but listening to the weight behind the sniffles, Ren realised what the problem was. 

"Oh, hang on a second.." Ren started to rummage around in his pockets, and lo and behold, nestled in the inside pocket of his jacket was an unopened travel pack of tissues. His mom was sort of.. well, motherly, when it came to these sorts of things, and never let him leave the house without a pack or two in this weather, despite him being in his late twenties. 

Holding them out, Ren watched Rocco's eyes widen as though he was being handed the secret to life itself. He managed to one handedly fumble the packet and release one from beneath the sticky flap, switching it immediately for his other hand. The thick, productive blow that followed told Ren all that he needed to know. 

"Dude, you can't seriously be thinking of attending that thing like this." 

His voice was deadpan, but there were notches of concern woven somewhere his words. Rocco just peeked up at Ren from over the tissue fortress he'd resurrected around his mouth and nose, the relief palpable on his face at having something soft against his skin. 

Without asking, Ren reached a hand out, practically slapping his palm against Rocco's brow. His eyes narrowed, a ponderous expression etching his features, and he hummed thoughtfully. 

"Hm. Just as I thought," Ren stated, giving Rocco the final verdict as he pulled his hand away again. "You're burning up. No way are you going anywhere." 

Rocco just snorted from behind his tissues, which soon transpired into yet another set of hacking coughs. Somehow, he was sounding worse and worse by the minute, and as foolhardy as the two of them usually were, Ren figured it was time to be responsible. 

Regaining some modicum of composure, Rocco managed to lower the tissues, sniffling a little easier than he had before. The sounds were still struggled, but more like he was trying to suck in air past swelling as opposed to a metric ton of gunk. 

"I have to go," Rocco mumbled, rubbing both hands up over his face, defeated. "They're expecti'g me. And I really n'deed the money -"

"Even if you felt well enough, you'll infect everyone there," Ren said, folding his arms across his chest again. He could see Rocco considering it, knowing that he would feel terrible if he discovered he'd caused a low-level pandemic. 

A deep, crackly sigh followed, and Rocco slumped to the floor, back against the cold, concrete wall. Ren followed him with his eyes, about to lecture him about getting chilled when he was already sick, but he managed to refrain himself somehow. Once seated, Rocco's eyes lifted, giving Ren a dewy, desperate look. Damn, his puppy-eyes were infallible, even more so when he didn't feel well. Ren felt a tug at his heart just a little at the sight. 

"So wha'd do you suggest I do?" Rocco asked, his voice now boasting an audibly stuffy edge. Sighing, Ren glanced around the workshop for a moment, mulling over possibilities. There was no way Rocco could go. And even if they could bring the exhibition here, there was still the risk of him infecting everyone. But he couldn't just.. not go either. He'd lose money. And possible future deals. What to do, what to do... 

"I know what to do," Ren said, looking back to Rocco, only to balk at the sight of him. Once again, his expression was relaxed in a tortured grimace, his nose twitching as his breath snagged. Once, twice.. threefourfivetimes-!

"h'TSH!.. hH'TSSZSH'!!..."

Two were normally Rocco's pattern, but there was an unrelieved tint to the last one as his expression remained suspended in ticklish agony. His hands had lowered slightly, having lifted to catch the sneezes, to reveal a flaring, twitching nose, red and irritated beyond measure, working its way towards more. It seemed to toy with Rocco, leaving him on the hitching edge for what seemed like forever, until finally, finally, it came. 

".. hhH'IITSZSHHH'iuhh-!!"

The force of it seemed to surprise both Ren and Rocco, both of them a little dazed, blinking in the aftermath. Rocco kept one hand in place over his mouth and nose, shielding what lurked beneath (and from what Ren had heard, it hadn't been pretty) while his other hand once again fumbled around for the pack of tissues Ren had previously given him. Locating them in his pocket, Rocco hastily scrambled to get one to his nose, having given up caring about how he looked or sounded at this moment, and surrendered into another heavy blow. Ren grimaced, sending off a silent prayer that he didn't somehow come down with this. It'd be just his luck. 

"Bless you!" Ren exclaimed emphatically, just as impressed as he was surprised by that sneeze. "Anyway, as I was saying," he continued, turning slightly to give Rocco a little privacy while he got himself more presentable. "Why don't I go in your place?" 

There was a heavy silence between them after the question, like lead in the air as Rocco seemed to feel it settle on his shoulders. He gave his nose a few last pinch-wipes before he just chucked the used tissue to join the congregation of other assorted items previously used for the same purpose. 

"How are you gonna go in m'by place?" Rocco asked, sucking in a thick snuffle after. It did nothing to clear his voice. "They're goi'g to know you're not m'be." 

That was a valid point, but it wasn't like they couldn't work around it. Ren smirked down at Rocco, winking quickly, before his eyes roamed over the assortment of painting lining the room. 

"Of course they will," Ren said airily, his smile widening at the befuddlement on Rocco's face. "But everyone gets sick. They'll understand. Besides.." Holding a hand out, Ren offered for Rocco to take it. When he did, Ren helped pull him up to his feet, only groaning slightly at the weight. Rocco was a little bigger than him. 

"No offence, but it isn't you that they're going to see." 

Harsh truth. But it was true. None of the people attending the exhibition were going to see Rocco personally; they were going for his art, which Ren could easily take with him. He could just make up some bullshit that Rocco had to leave town due to a family emergency or something to save him his modesty. Plus, it would selfishly kill a lot of time for Ren, meaning he wouldn't be climbing the walls with boredom for the rest of the day. 

After some consideration, Rocco snorted a stuffy exhale, which migrated into a chorus of coughs, which ended in a sound caught somewhere between a groan and a whimper. A hand lifted to his head, finger-pads massaging against his temple as though he had a headache, before he levelled Ren with a very exhausted, very vanquished look. 

"... All righ'd," Rocco conceded, almost visibly slumping in defeat. Using the collar of his shirt, Rocco once again scrubbed cruelly against his nose, earning him another eye-roll from Ren which went aggressively ignored. "But don't go messi'g this up," Rocco added, his eyes flinting seriousness. "I really need this." 

Holding his hands up in mock surrender, Ren just shrugged, though he paused when Rocco once again broke away to the side to cough into his shirt. He visibly staggered after those few, coaxing Ren to reach an arm out and steady him by the elbow, tugging gently towards the door. 

"Okay, well, leave it to me. I'll handle this thing while you get in bed. Deal?" 

Apparently, it was indeed a 'deal'. 

Not one made consciously on Rocco's part. But he found that when he tried to walk, he was more exhausted than he realised, and he didn't really have it in him to put up much of a fight. 

So he allowed Ren to guide him upstairs, through the trash heap that was the lounge, and finally settled in his own bed. The soft, cool comfort of the sheets was pleasant against his fever-warm skin, and Rocco had to wonder how long it had been since he'd actually last been in bed. He'd been working so hard... It had to be a day. Maybe even two. He tried to think, but his mind was too fogged with a hazy fever and fatigue. So he gave up, sinking into the pillows and letting his eyes fall softly closed. He fell asleep to the gentle presence of Ren's hand against his brow. 

He had no idea how long he'd been asleep for, but the weak sunlight was almost gone by the time his eyes were open again, indicating the day had almost ended. He was vaguely aware of sounds coming from below him, someone clearly rummaging around in the kitchen. Though he couldn't listen for long, because he was soon very, very distracted. 

His nose had completely sealed shut over the course of hours he'd been asleep, to the point where not a single sliver of air could pass through the swollen membranes. Yet somehow, something had gotten through, and something was tickling. It stole all his focus, his mind thick and fogged as the sensation echoed around his skull. On his back, Rocco squinted to the ceiling, his chest rising and falling with each jumpy breath. In, out. In, out. Ininin-!

"..h'TDZSH'!.. HI'TDZZSSH'UH'!!"

"Bless you! That was a good one!"

Rocco hadn't been expecting the voice, and groggily turned his head to be met with a visual of Ren in the doorway, holding a tray with who-knew-what on it. Rocco just groaned, reeling from the dull thudding of his skull that those sneezes had provoked, trying (and failing) to sniffle against a block of immovable congestion. Ren apparently just continued to pad into the room further, perching on the edge of the bed beside Rocco's hip and placing the tray down on the floor. 

"Wha'd.. did you-.." 

"Sh," Ren interrupted sharply, knowing what Rocco was going to ask. He'd already been in to check on him while he'd been asleep and noticed that the fever hadn't dimmed, but heightened. So, he'd taken some initiative. Leaning down, Ren got something from the tray, something Rocco couldn't see properly, and held it up. Rocco just squinted, frowning a little. 

"..How'd the exhibition go?" he croaked, his voice apparently on its way out now too. Ren's eye roll was typical, but there was a smile on his lips and fondness in his expression. He held out the small cup of NyQuil towards Rocco, waiting for him to take it, before reaching back down to the tray and snatching up a mug of lemon tea. 

"However it went can wait until you're high as a kite on cold meds," Ren said, though the wink and soft smile indicated that the exhibition had gone just fine. "Now, drink up. Because there is no way I'm spoon-feeding a grown man NyQuil."

Though that was exactly what ended up happening. As well as Ren cooking dinner. And staying up until the small hours of the morning to monitor Rocco's fever. He was even still there for breakfast, which he presented in the form of more lemon tea and oatmeal for Rocco in bed. He complained, as he always did, though he would do it again and again and again, every time. Without question.

~

[faaun]

Trying 2 be so normal rn

[tojiscrack]

i can’t wait for the day the liar, liar fic gets so big and i can say i’ve been here SINCE THE LEVI FIC YOU STARTED because your fics are genuinely unlike any other fic i’ve ever read before.

you have me falling in love with even the OC’S, i usually hate oc’s. i can’t really name many fics off the top of my head that i actually liked reading bc as you said in your ‘about me’, i too have a particular way i imagine characters so when i read fics and see them completely different or acting (in my view) ‘cringe’, i immediately get off it. you’ll notice my reblogs are only your posts because i never reblog anything unless it is PERFECT, and my standards are HIGHH so the fact that you’ve managed to get me to reblog your posts is crazy to me. i love you and ur writing sm.

i’m WAITING for the day ‘liar, liar’ gets as big as say ‘7 minutes in heaven’ for example, (the chokehold that fic had on the aot fandom was CRAZY). and not to be… idk, rude(?), but i think your fic is WAYYYY better (and the plot hasn’t even STARTED yet). i’m gonna need people making tiktoks about ‘liar, liar’ STAT so i can have people to talk to about this other than my friend 😭

liar, liar masterlist here:

girl i've BEEN knowing u since the levi fic, which i believe began in august of 2022, so we've known each other for a good two years now, is that not WILD?? (that, and the fact that since august 2022, i've only released 7 chapters of soano, oops-)

'ur fics are genuinely unlike any other fic i've ever read before' -- wishing i was typing this on my phone instead of my laptop rn cuz i can't spam emojis expressing how flattered i feel with this section right here :(((( i'm so pleased u like my works (plural, 'cause despite ur username, and past username, being dedicated to levi and eren, you're out here supporting my jjk megumi fic too).

HELP I DIDN'T THINK ANYONE WOULD READ MY 'ABOUT ME' POST LMAOO. it was just put up there 'cause i needed to get that done and after putting it off for so long, i finally made it lolll. i stalk ur page every once in a while, so i'm well aware of your reposts being just my fics, and not to be big-headed about it, but i'd get so internally cocky just seeing that HAHAHA.

BUT, i was silent about it till now (YOU mentioned it first, nawt me, so i can happily respond this way without being seen as arrogant -- huzzah!). and idk how else to show i appreciate ur support and comments SM (that's including ur blazes which, ik i've spammed ur dm's already but seriously, i can't thank you enough for, it's like another function of tipping which is super SUPER cool of u).

'i’m waiting for the day liar, liar gets as big as say 7 mins' -- aww STOPPPP. i'd love for my stories to have a hold over the jjk fandom, but idk, if we're being real, i feel like the gojo (unreleased) story i have planned will reach more ppl seeing as it features THE satoru gojo (my princess who also happens to be THE princess of anime). but liar liar seems to be growing every day (thanks to YOUR blazes, which again, u really don't have to do ml). if it does ever reach a wider audience, i'll remember you for sure. i'll remember a handful others who are og's too, but you were my first EVER reader ALTOGETHER and i PROMISE you i won't forget that <3

[art-from-the-juice-box]

sorry for the lighting but i feel like you can still tell what’s going on and it’s not like a portfolio picture so yay ya yay stuff from school now that it’s properly started :) we were doing self portraits inspired by books from the library and mine was a collection of sci fi movie posters which is something i’ve never done before :]

[readwritealldayallnight]

Part 3 of ‘Bird Watching’ aka hot construction worker Simon Riley x single mom reader

He thinks your favourite colour must be yellow

It’s the first thing he notices when he walks into your flat, or rather, the first thing his brain registers as existing around you, because in actuality he’s unable to let his eyes stray from your form for even a second

From the corner of his eye, he spots a yellow rain jacket hung up by the front door as he kicks his boots off, sees yellow mugs drying next to the empty baby bottles by the sink, notices yellow pillows and blankets laid out across the couch next to a laundry basket, tiny onesies and burp cloths left half folded inside, notices an arrangement of drooping yellow tulips in a vase that have seen better days, and in the midst of all the sunshine scattered across a flat evidently well lived in, well loved, is you

You, in a pair of sweatpants and t-shirt that definitely doesn’t have dried spit up on it, bags beneath your eyes betraying the exhaustion that your smile refuses to divulge, and with a tiny baby cradled against your soft chest, you’re nothing short of a vision Simon feels unworthy to be bearing witness to, the epitome of everything he thought he would never have, would never deserve, pure and unabashed domesticity at its finest

He thinks you’re the most beautiful sight he’ll ever see

As privileged as he feels to have been invited inside your flat, inside your home, invited to take a glimpse into the four walls that keep you and your baby bird sheltered from the outside world where things aren’t all sunshine, another part of him wishes you’d never extended the invitation in the first place

When you’d answered the phone last night, he could tell immediately that he had called at an inopportune time

The sound of a baby’s displeased shrieking in the background was impossible to ignore, even over the sound of your sweet ‘Hello?’ coming through the line, but how was he meant to ask if this was a bad time, when you let out the most delighted, tantalizing little gasp when he’d said it was Simon calling

“Oh, Simon! It’s so nice to hear from you! How are you?” You’d asked him, voice sweet as a candy and addictive as a drug. How was he? Well when you said things like that, he felt like he was on the verge of either a heart attack or a relapse into something he was sure would leave him feeling high for the rest of his days, but he managed instead to tell you that he was fine, not that you’d heard his reply

Talking on the phone while holding a newborn who demanded her mum’s undivided attention proved to be a feat easier said than done

“Sorry, could you say that again?”

“Asked how you girls were holdin’ up?” He’d repeated for you, voice a little louder for you to understand over the noise

“We’re alright. Better now that you’ve called, we’ve been lookin’ forward to hearin’ from you. I mean- I don’t mean to get ahead of myself here but, I’m guessing you’ve called with good news? I hope?”

Simon couldn’t help but let the small chuckle that built in his chest and slipped past his lips, knowing that there wasn’t a single alternate reality out there where he’d allow himself to ever give you anything other than good news, give you any reason other than to smile

“It is good news.” He confirmed, smile widening when he could practically hear you grinning on the other end of the phone. “Though there are a few uh- kinks we might have to sort out.”

Whatever reply you might have given, Simon was unable to hear over the sound of tiny cries on the other end growing louder, more insistent

“Sorry, I think she’s ready for another feeding.” You’d explained to him after the interruption, unaware that the mental image you’d just painted in Simon’s mind, of your aching breasts being suckled on while you spoke to him over the line, had his heart skip a beat, shaking his head and willing himself to stay focused. “Feels like the little lady never stops eating.”

“Would it be easier if I met you somewhere? Might be able to give you all the details tha’ way.” He thought about how he’d have to thank your baby bird one day, for giving him an easy excuse to see you in person again

“Think you might be right.” You’d giggled softly through the phone, a deep blush creeping up Simon’s neck up to the tips of his ears at the sound

Now, Simon wasn’t overly thrilled at how easily you offered him your home address, in spite of him offering to meet you at a cafe, or a park, anywhere that’d be convenient for you, you’d explained to him that getting yourself and a newborn out of the house was more time consuming than the actual outing, and that you’d be happy to offer him a cup of tea for his troubles

As infatuated as he’d become with you since your last conversation, and as much as he’d hoped there was a sliver of a chance you’d been thinking of him too, he wasn’t keen on you so willingly giving your address to someone who was still more or a less a stranger, even if the stranger was doing you a monumental favour

But Simon couldn’t fault you for being sweet, for being kind, for being so trusting, for still looking at the world and seeing good where others saw nothing, for finding the sunshine in the darkness

On top of that, he could tell how exhausted you were, despite your cheery disposition over the phone, the sleep deprivation was clear as day, certainly playing a part in your willingness to invite a stranger into your home, no questions asked

And that had Simon’s heart aching the entire drive over to your flat, thinking about how you were taking care of this new little life, so dependent on you for everything, but who was taking care of you? Who was making sure you were looked after? You’d mentioned how it felt like she never stopped eating, but who was there to remind you to eat enough too?

That train of thought led to a small pit stop along the way, sweet and savoury treats sat in the display case of the bakery reminded him of how little he knew about you, how we wasn’t sure which ones you’d prefer, until finally he was walking out with a box tucked under his arm filled with one of everything

As he’d knocked on the door to the flat, part of him had even wondered if he should’ve gotten some groceries for you as well, remembering how you’d said getting out of the house was especially tricky now, but he had to reign himself in, not wanting to overwhelm you too early, to come on too strong. You’d soon enough discover how willing he was to help, it would only be a matter of time until everything settled into place, for now he would have to pace himself

For now, he could allow himself to enjoy the sight of you licking your lips as you pull a chocolate croissant out of the to-go box, let himself appreciate the comfortable silence of a meal shared between two- as you’d insisted he had to have something to eat as well- two mugs of steaming tea sat cooling on the table as the tiny bird snuggled in her wrap sleeps peacefully against your chest

He hadn’t been able to get much of a glimpse at her last time, tucked away under layers of blankets in her pram, and granted her mum had been holding most of his attention. But now he’s able to get a slightly better look at her as she snoozes on you, her body as tiny as he remembers his nephew having been once. She’s got her mouth open in a slight ‘o’, her petite little hand curled up against the top of your cleavage, she slumbers without a care in the world, knowing she’s in the safest spot she could ever be, listening to her mum’s heartbeat beneath her ear

And you, every time your hand rubs gently against her back or softly pats her little bottom, eyes glancing down to check on her and eyes beaming with intangible love and devotion, well, you appear to quite literally glow before him. The two of you look like a perfect puzzle, the pieces fitting together seamlessly to reveal a most beautiful image

Simon only hopes that there’s perhaps room for a third puzzle piece in the mix, a chance to discover an even more complete picture, one that maybe includes him

“Part of me wants to insist again that you didn’t have to do this, but I think I actually really needed it.” You say, wiping crumbs off the corner of your mouth with a finger, Simon’s gaze inevitably locked on the movement, mind wandering towards thoughts of licking chocolate remnants off your lips with his own tongue. “So I’ll say thank you instead. Again.”

“You’re welcome.” He replies with a soft chuckle reverberating through his chest, shoulders unconsciously straightening with the pride he feels swell within him, knowing that such a simple gesture could so easily please you. “Really, no need to thank me.”

“I just um-” you add, shifting slightly in your seat, fidgeting with your fingers as you avoid his gaze and look at the box of sweets instead. “I just would feel bad taking all of these if someone’s waiting on you at home that would like them too. Should we save some for ‘em?”

You’re cute, Simon thinks to himself, trying to get an answer to a question you don’t want to ask directly, tip toeing around it

“There ain’t no one at home, love.” He confirms, the term of endearment slipping out intentionally this time, feeling emboldened by being in your home, in your orbit, in your gaze, and apparently being on your mind too. “They’re all yours.”

The treats are all yours, yes, but what he doesn’t dare say yet is that so is his time, his attention, his focus, they’re all yours now birdie, if you’ll allow him to give them to, that is

The blush that creeps up your cheeks has his own blood rushing south, your shy smile imprinting itself to the front of his brain for safekeeping. You’re as sweet as any of the goods they made in that bakery today, and so he decides he’ll let you in on the other question you’ve been dancing around since you’ve been sitting here chatting

“So is the nursery spot. It’s yours, I mean. Or, rather hers I suppose.” He adds, jutting his chin towards the bundle laid across your bosom, noticing how your face stills at his words for a second, before blooming into the brightest expression he’s seen on you thus far

“Really? Oh my gosh, are you serious? I- okay hold on, let me try and lay her down in her crib. I’m too excited, I’m gonna wake her up.” You say, the pure joy evident in your voice as you slowly rise from your seat, a palm cradled against the back of her head as you excuse yourself down the hall towards what must be your bedroom, Simon’s eyes following your every move until your mismatched socked feet are padding back towards him a few minutes alter

“Simon, you- you really mean it? What did- how did you- what’s- just tell me everything!” You laugh, pulling your kitchen chair closer towards his side of the round table, sliding your mug across the wood towards you as you settle in, beaming eyes locked on his

He has to fight to reign in the grin threatening to stretch across his face as well, your excitement contagious as he angles his body towards you, not missing the way your eyes flit towards the flexing muscle of his arms for a split second, before returning to his face

Now, Simon’s had ample time between meeting the daycare’s director and walking into your flat, and each second has been spent wondering how he would go about this… situation he’s put himself into, considering what he should do about the little white lie he didn’t correct when the owner presumed Simon was inquiring about a spot for his child, a child she presumed he shared with his wife, rather than the woman he’d started falling for only days earlier

And yet with all that time, and as skilled as Simon once was at making life or death decision in the blink of an eye, not having had the luxury to consider actions and consequences when in the heat of the moment in what feels like a lifetime ago, he hasn’t been able to bring himself to a decision, hasn’t been able to convince himself that it’s worth bringing up at all, so long as no one tugs too hard on the loose string and unravels everything he’s working to seam together

After all, if Simon has it his way, the owner’s assumption won’t be wrong for too much longer, and so as he sits across from you, waiting for his answer, he decides that no one is being hurt if he omits the truth just a little while longer

“Easy ‘nough to find the owner, after all.” Not entirely true. “Turns out she’s a friend of a friend, who would’ve known?” Not true at all. “Told her I needed a favour, and she was happy to oblige.” A lie. “They had exactly one infant spot left open, and it’s yours now.”

“Oh, Simon, I- I don’t even know what to say! I was only expecting you to find me a phone number, or a name, or- I can’t believe you would do all of that.” You practically gush, pulling your knees up so you’re facing him entirely now. “I thought I was going to have to beg whoever was in charge for a chance, no one in the city is accepting infants right now. I just- Simon I can’t even begin to tell you how grateful I am, truly. But, why would you even do all of this? Even if you’re down playing it, it sounds like you went through a lot of trouble for us.”

Simon decides he’ll try a little honesty for a change

“The truth?” He asks softly, and you nod up at him, gaze wholly enraptured by whatever reply he’s about to offer you. “Haven’t been able to stop thinkin’ ‘bout you. Either of you. But, you especially.”

“R-really?” You practically whisper, the blush on your cheeks as dark as ever, though your smile is anything but shy this time. He would dare say you look almost relieved at his words, a sentiment that has his heart skipping another beat.

“O’ course.” He answers easily, wondering how he’s gone all his life without this feeling stirring in his chest, the rush of chemicals to his brain addictive to say the least, wondering why he’s denied himself this joy for so long. But then again, it was you he was waiting on all this time, wasn’t it? “The director would like to meet you first though, she said there’s enrolment details to sort through or something, and she wants to meet- erm-” He trails off, motioning in the direction of the hall where you’ve laid the baby bird to rest

“Rosie. Oh my gosh, I can’t believe how rude I am, you’ve done all this for us and I haven’t even introduced you to her properly!” You say, a hand unconsciously smoothing over your stomach where she once grew, as though that would always be the place you considered her first home, as being within you. “Her name’s Rose, but she’s my little Rosie.”

“Tha’s beautiful.” He says, following your gaze as you look lovingly down the hall towards her, as though you could both see her through the walls.

“Thank you. I had no idea what I was going to name her, all throughout my pregnancy. I was literally in the hospital bed pushing her out and still unsure what I’d call her.” You reminisce with a small laugh, Simon hanging onto your every word as you offer him a glimpse into your reality a few months prior, the time before you’d turned his world upside down, a time when the foundation of your own world was being rocked.

“I was uh- I was by myself for it. Didn’t have anyone there, and this one nurse was so kind to me. She made me feel like I wasn’t alone, stayed with me for all of it, even after I’d delivered. Afterwards everyone kept pressuring me to come up with a name for her already, one doctor even told me I should’ve been able to look at her and just know. That mothers are supposed to know these things when they look at their baby. But there was so much happening- I just couldn’t decide, nothing felt right for her. Anyways, a few hours after I’d given birth the nurse came into my room and she’d gotten me flowers, probably from their gift shop. But it was a bouquet of roses, it was- it was the nicest thing anyone had done for me in a long time and I knew right away, that my girl was going to be a Rose.”

Simon can’t help but to sit in comfortably silence for a moment, letting that information sink in. You’d told him in your first meeting that it was just you and the baby, that much he knew. And walking into your flat, it was evident that there wasn’t a trace of a man living here with you. But to hear this, to know that you were alone as you gave birth, the fucker who’d had the downright honour of putting a baby into you nowhere to be found, has Simon’s blood boiling. He’s seeing red, but he steels himself with a deep breath and files that information away for another time.

“Rose is perfect. Just like she is.” He says without hesitation, watching the far off look in your eye as you told your story change instantly into one of pride, your eyes meeting his again with gratitude brewing behind them.

“Thank you.” You whisper, a timid hand slowly reaching to rest on his forearm for a moment, the small gesture having Simon’s heart beat so rapidly he’s worried you’ll be able to hear it. “Anyways uh- you said she wants to meet us?”

“Right, just details she needs to iron out, nothin’ for you to worry ‘bout. The spot’s yours love, I made sure of it.” He affirms, knowing that he’ll be replaying this moment in his mind constantly as he shows up early to work in the mornings and leaves entirely too late at night in order to finish the job he’s promised would be completed early, all for you. “I think it’d be best if I went you girls, to the meeting. Don’t think anyone would give you a hard time but, just want to be there to be sure.” He also wants to be there to filter any questions that might arise about your relationship to one another, keep the thread from being pulled

“Oh, of course, okay.” You say, pulling your hand back as you go to reach for you phone, pulling up your calendar. “Do you know when she was hoping to meet? We’ve got an appointment with the paediatrician on Wednesday morning, but if she gives us enough time we could be on the tube and there by-”

“You’ve been takin’ the tube with her?” Simon cuts you off, more abruptly than he meant to, but the image of you and your baby bird stuffed into the tube with all the delinquents and criminals that frequent London’s underground instantly has the hairs on the back of his neck raising

“Well, yeah of course. Used to have a car but, selling it made more sense when- well you know.” You shrug, clearly not wanting to linger on your dwindling financial situation since bringing a baby into this world

“I’ll pick you girls up.” He declares without hesitation

“Oh, Simon you really don’t have to! Seriously, you’ve already done so much for us. I can’t ask that much of you.” You try to reason, though Simon can tell there’s not much fight behind those words, a mothers instinct to protect her baby stronger than your need to insist on independence at this moment, especially if it means not having to navigate a pram through the tube

“Wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it, love. Like I said last time, I want to, so I will.” He replies simply, because to him it really is that simple. Give him the chance to prove himself, and he’ll give you everything, anything you need

“Well, if you’re sure.” You smile softly at him, placing your phone back on the table, worries dissipating already.

“I’ll reach out to ‘er and confirm a date and time.” He tells you, pulling his own phone out this time, preparing to shoot off a text to the owner right away, though your next words have him stilling, certain that his heart is going to give out soon

“Great. Then it’s a date.”

He’ll be sure to bring you yellow roses next time

But first, he’s got an infant car seat to go buy for his truck

Next chapter

Ladies and gentleman, part 3 of Bird Watching 😇😇😇

I am having entirely too much fun writing this series, and it really does mean the world to me that you all have been so into this story as well!!! Hope part 3 lived up to your expectations! Simon’s lies surely aren’t going to catch up to him, right?

- M 🫶🏻

Tag List:

@puppydollgstar @strawberrygato @heletsmelovehim @404creep @just-lilita @desiretolive @marigold-morelli @robinfeldt98 @gojos4evrluvr @afanofbeans @br3nt-12 @sleep101 @scaleniusrm @bbygirl9 @elysianightsss @spidersuneee @mihoonz @ungodlydilf @nicolebarnes @kentuckyhobbit

[cherriicou]

oh my god please write an older bf!mingyu i love ur scoups one sm 💗 (did i mention to put creampie in? did i) 👁️👁️ thank u babes mwah

hehe ofc! glad u enjoyed it mwahaha

olderbf! mingyu x college student! reader (f)

a/n; pls don’t use tinder guys… // word count; 1.2K

content; age gap, size difference, overstimulation, consensual recording, sending nudes, creampie, oral sex (f and m receiving), fingering, spanking, car sex, public/semi-public sex, degradation, praise kink, riding, smut with the smallest amount of plot

OLDER BF!MINGYU who met you through a dating app his friend forced him to go on. he usually ignored all the young girls who sent him thirsty messages and had their bodies on display on their profile. but you were different. only cute selfies, cat pictures, and your interests were shown on your page, drawing him to get interested in you. so he messaged you first!

OLDER BF!MINGYU who noticed your like in art so he immediately suggested taking you to a museum as your first date <3 he was the sweetest man you’ve ever met. yes, he was way older than you but it made everything 10x better. he knew how to treat you well, he made you feel safe, and he even dropped so many compliments on you that day it made you squirm in your seat.

OLDER BF!MINGYU who noticed you staring at his arms every time he helped you pick up something or every time he extended his arm out to pay for your meal. his ego was boosted then, making sure to flex them every once in a while when he saw you looking. you looked so adorable, your pretty face blushing, thighs squeezing together while admiring him. he needed you.

OLDER BF!MINGYU who, at first, tries to be soft with you. you were so much smaller than him, he was almost scared he’d break you :< that was until you started playing little games. bending down when you decided to wear no panties under your dress or skirt, fingers grazing over his crotch while you had dinner. all while giving him a innocent look. oh, he was tired of playing nice with you.

OLDER BF!MINGYU who has you salivating all over your chin and tits. he’s fucking your face so roughly, your makeup is completely ruined and you have no thoughts whatsoever as he holds your face firmly with his hands. ‘fucking brat’, as he stared straight into your eyes, groaning from the tears that started to fall down. he was not afraid to show you that he was enjoying the way your mouth was taking him in so well.

OLDER BF!MINGYU who loves to overstimulate you. he knows you love it despite your whines, ‘g-gyu no more,’ as you try to push his head away from your sensitive pussy. but he just continues licking and sucking on the spot he knows drives you crazy. you don’t even realize it, but you start grinding on his mouth, feeling the smile form on his lips. ‘doesn’t seem like you want me to stop, baby.’ god, he could taste you all fucking day while having you squirm over him. lapping your juices for being such a good girl the other day while you took his cock in your mouth <3

OLDER BF!MINGYU who takes and picks you up from college; his expensive car catching the eyes of others as you happily walk to greet your boyfriend. glaring through his window to any of the young guys looking at you get into his car. oh, and his favorite thing is take your mind off the stressful day that just passed. panties shoved to the side as he plunges his fingers in and out of you while driving home. 'that's it, princess. use my fingers,' your moans and whimpers take over the entire car as you hold onto the arm that he is using to pleasure you in the passenger seat. his eyes directed towards you every once in a while to see the fucked out expression on your face. he doesn’t care if people can see the lewd scene from outside, as long as you’re taken care of!

OLDER BF!MINGYU who LOVES to fill you up. 'where you want it, baby?' sweat glistening on his forehead as he continuously rams into your sweet spot, orgasm right on edge. 'i-inside, please,' he already knows you want it in you, but he just loves hearing you say it while he's fucking you. his grip on your hips gets harder, making you squirm in both pain and pleasure. his thrusts get stronger as he finishes inside you, making sure all of it is released in your abused hole. 'fuck, look at that,' his breathless groans let out as he pulls his cock out of your sensitive cunt. he takes his phone from the bedside table, and you hear the sound of the record button as he spreads your ass out. both of your cum leaking out of your pussy so nicely. you think he's done until he uses his fingers to take as much fluid as he can to shove it right back inside your hole :3 'ah g-gyu..,' you let out. he smiles at your coos, landing a playful smack against your ass before pulling you up to kiss your lips.

OLDER BF!MINGYU who is annoyed at this stupid meeting his employees set up with him. he just nods away, eyes locked on the presentation, mind spinning faster than he could organize his thoughts. ding! he reached for his phone to find messages from you, as well as a video linked to it. 'miss you <3,' he smiles at the cute text, then opens the video to find himself growing hard and smiled swept away. it's a video of you, one hand holding the phone to show your naked body while the other hand is rubbing your clit. he turns down the volume completely before your moans can be heard in the basically quiet conference room. he's livid. you're at home, smiling at the 'seen' notification on your phone. it wasn't until time passed you started to worry, not a single message was sent back from him. you're screwed.

OLDER BF!MINGYU who has you bent over his lap, fingers messing with your pussy for what seems like hours. your ass was practically red and bruised from the amount of smacks it has taken. all while you plead, 'mm sorry gyu please,' he smiles. you think he is going to give into you fully, ready for him to put you in missionary or on all fours. but no. instead, he lays down with a cocky look on his face at your confused, needy expression. 'come sit on it, doll,' he can't be serious. he puts his hands behind his head, eyes never leaving you as your legs tremble. trying to put as much energy as you can to climb on top of him and fully sit on his cock. the pleasured look on your face almost makes him fold, he wanted to take care of you himself but you needed to learn. learn that needy girls don’t get awarded.

OLDER BF!MINGYU who almost feels bad for you. you're struggling so much to grind on dick :< the burn your thighs are feeling is insane, and he is just staring you down. 'g-gyu,' you whine while fighting for your life to continue riding him. 'hm? gonna cum, already?,' you nod, hands placed on his chest to try to help your body stabilize. your eyes meet his again and you give him the biggest pout, gasping as he finally thrusts into you once roughly, 'gonna make a mess on my cock like some needy slut?,' his hands grab onto your hips. he's being so mean but you know you'll love it later.

OLDER BF! MINGYU who thinks you've been punished enough and plants his feet flat on the bed, then immediately starts to fuck up into you. the tip of his meanly thick cock repeatedly slamming into your cervix. his hands frantically touching you all over your body, from your tits to your neck, to even putting his thumb into your mouth as you struggle to take what he's giving you. 'mm my sweet girl,' you salivate around his fingers as you feel yourself about to cum. you should take more pics often..

[invoncible]

I’d love to see Invincible!variants meeting OG reader with powers/super strong because in their world, their reader is normal. I’d like to see their reaction when they’re expecting someone weak and then they suddenly fly off or get decked in the face!

INVINCIBLE VARIANTS & reader who can put them in their place ✧˚. ft. nogoggles!mark, mohawk!mark, viltrumite!mark, the surviving 8 cw. canon typical violence

— this is so funny ily nonnie but uhh rereading this i feel like i lost the plot, hope u enjoy nonetheless lol <3 ! — reader is with MAIN!mark & has scarlet witch type powers

when multiple versions of your boyfriend were zipping around the planet causing indescribable amounts of destruction, you were a little confused. all of these guys... were mark? what mark could've been if things went a little different?

you held back a little when fighting them because they had the face of the boy you loved so much, but after seeing them in action... they had to go.

you were flying beside your mark, the only good one apparently, when cecil barked in your ear.

"y/n, i need you." your comm buzzed to life with cecil's instructions.

"kinda busy, cecil." you muttered under your breath.

"please, i know you're done with me. i know both of you are. but don't turn your back on the people who're in danger."

"what does he want?" your mark snapped, the distaste evident on his face.

"help." you answered him with a sigh, your moral compass guilting you into seeing where you were needed. you promised mark you'd be back soon.

"just tell me where the problem is." you shot back at cecil.

NOGOGGLES!MARK

"i need you at guardians' HQ."

you narrowed your eyes in concern. "the guardians are down?"

"it's a batshit crazy version of mark, what do you think?"

you rolled your eyes and rerouted your flight path to guardians' base. within minutes you warped right in the middle of the action.

"what the fuck..." you whispered in horror. kate and her duplicates were out, shapesmith was ripped in half—immortal was the only one still going and even he was struggling.

"nice, they sent someone else!" mark stopped immortal's punch nonchalantly with one hand, grinning down at you from where he hovered in the air. he squinted then gasped, throwing immortal to the ground.

"y/n? why would they send you?" he floated down to you, approaching you like a wild animal.

"you know me?" you stalled, eyes darting around your periphery to make sure that the others were at least alive.

"do i know you?" he laughed, figuring that was a good enough answer to your question. he circled around you with an approving hum. "aww, you playing dress up? i like this color on you—"

activating your power, your tendrils of chaos magic snaked around his body, picking him up and throwing him across the room. you flew to where he landed, lifting the debris of his prior battle telekinetically and sending the slabs of concrete crashing into his body.

your feet touched down on the ground as you walked calmly towards his fallen body squirming under the projectiles. he shot up and out of the pile of rocks with a feral grin on his face.

"holy shit. you're nothing like my y/n." he set his fists and accelerated towards you.

you stopped him with the raise of your hand. his punch stuttered in time and space as he tried his hardest to push past your power and land a good one. you ducked under him, yanking at his ankle and slamming him to the ground so hard he bounced.

"yes," he chuckled lowly, wiping the blood dripping on his chin. "yes. can i take you home with me?"

"no."

"i'll fight you for it," he stood up, rolling his neck. you cringed when you heard the cacophony of cracks that followed. "wanna fight me for it?"

"s'not gonna be much of a fight." you smiled, shifting your weight before taking off again, gaining altitude and using your power as a jet engine to collide your leg with his face.

to your shock and horror, he just stood there and took it with a smile, his body skipping across the floor like a rock over a lake .

"oh..." he grinned, sliding to a stop and licking the blood off his teeth. "oh. i love you."

you blinked in confusion, tilting your head. your body warmed as you channeled your power again, a ball of energy accumulating over your palm. "i'm... going to kill you."

"i know!" he laughed, punching his fist into his palm as he got hyped up again. "that's the best part."

"you're actually enjoying this." you meant it as a question, but there was no room for debate. this mark was 100% delighted by the fact you were trying to kill him.

mark swayed on his feet, blood dribbling from his split lip. his breathing was uneven—you couldn't tell if it was from exertion or excitement—and of course that fucking grin was still there.

"you’re so fun," he groaned, licking his teeth. "i love my y/n, but i bet they could learned a thing or two from you—"

you didn’t let him finish. with a flick of your wrist, your energy surged forward, wrapping around his throat. his words choked off into a strangled gasp as you lifted him into the air.

"i'm not them," you said, voice steady even as you watched him gasp for air.

then, with a sharp twist—you snapped his neck. his body dropped to the floor, limp. you stared for a second, waiting for any signs of movement. nothing. finally, you let out a breath and turned away.

"ugh..."

you froze and spun around. his voice was wet, choked with laughter.

"you're not making it easy to stay away from you."

MOHAWK!MARK

"the penitentiary. prison's getting ransacked."

you were at the scene within the minute, zapping into existence just to see mark with a fuckass mohawk fighting off some heroes tasked with taking him in. they were unsuccessful of course, as when you arrived they were in piles of limbs and blood on the concrete.

his eyes flickered to you, widening in recognition. "y/n..?"

you raised your eyebrow. guess he knew you, or a version of you in his world. it didn't matter to you.

he lit up and tossed a severed hand to the side. "oh, hey!" he walked towards you. "what're you doing here, babe? i know you love when i go crazy but this is a biiiiit dangerous—"

you restricted his movement, pulling him towards you with your magic. you squeezed and squeezed until you heard his breath hitch. "i'm not your y/n."

"yeah, i can see that." he crooned, feigning an impressed tone. "you got a little power now? if you wanted me close, you don't have to be rough. just ask. i'm happy with any version of you." he failed to hide his little grunt, squirming in your hold.

if your grimace was any indication of your sentiment, he didn't take it to heart. he took it as motivation. he broke through your magic, pummeling through the air towards you. unfazed, you slapped him off course with a bolt of magic. he crashed into the wall with a groan.

mark stood up, the dust and rocks falling off his back. "my y/n was a sweetheart."

"i can be sweet," you mumbled more to yourself, brows furrowing as you strategized how to finish him off quickly.

"just not for me, though." mark grinned. "i see how it is. is it the hair?"

"kinda." your eyes flickered up to his hair and you couldn't stop the little smile on your face. all you could think about was your mark with that style. it worked on him, not that you'd admit it.

you picked him up and slammed him down, picked him up and slammed him down again, over and over until he was hanging limp in the air.

satisfied, you synthesized restraints from imagination and fastened them over him. you barely climbed out of the sunken crater you carved with his body when he coughed up blood, eyes fluttering.

you pressed a finger to your ear. "cecil, send someone else to bring this guy in. i've got to get back."

"you just gonna throw me around and leave?" he scoffed, words slurring together from the beating.

"someone's gonna take you in, and you're gonna tell us everything about how you got here." you sigh and barely spare him a glance over your shoulder.

"i won't talk." he sang teasingly.

"you will."

"i'll do it maybe if you come a little closer." he egged you on, a stupid little smirk on his face. "got something real special to say to you."

"shut up."

he groaned petulantly and started to push against your magical binds.

"stay." you narrowed your eyes.

his eyes darted up to yours, staring for a moment before huffing a short laugh. he leaned back against the caved-in pavement, man-spreading and getting comfy against the slope. "yes, ma'am."

VILTRUMITE!MARK

"he's off fighting spawn. the poor guy's probably already dead."

"got it."

"watch out for this one, y/n, he's..." cecil sucked in a breath. "i dunno. full viltrumite indoctrination?"

"i can handle him." you reassured him before phasing over to the variant's location.

you watched as he ripped the hero apart, flying him into the highway below for good measure. you soared down behind him, saving all the cars that were launched from the road and setting them down at a safe distance.

mark watched as the cars were gently rescued. he turned around like he had all the time in the world and looked pained upon seeing you.

"please no." he sighed softly. "they shouldn't have sent you."

"why not?" you humored him, stepping gracefully over the rubble.

"i won't stop all this. not even for you, my love."

"i'm not your y/n..." you pursed your lips, getting a faint sense of deja vu. you felt like you said this a few times already.

"don't worry, it'll be over soon. why don't you wait all this out—"

you teleport before he can finish, reappearing behind him mid-air. a surge of energy coils around your hands as you slam a concussive blast into his back. he stumbles forward, muscles tensing from the impact.

he spun around in a flash, hand gripping your throat as he shoves you back-first into the nearest building. the collision sent shockwaves rippling through the complex, glass shattering, debris crumbling to the ground.

"cute tricks." he breathed against your ear. "this is new. but don't make me fight you."

you stabbed your fingers into his pressure points, channeling your power through his nerves. his grip faltered for a fraction of a second, enough time for you to flip, plant your feet on his chest, and kick him off you.

mark spiraled back, barely catching himself mid-air. he wipes the blood from his lip from being effectively electrocuted, chest rising and falling.

"join me," he whispered, watching you in awe. "join me. we can rule the universe together."

"the fact that you think you can ask that and get a good answer proves that you don't know me at all."

"i do."

"you don't."

"we could have everything." he floats towards you. "power. control. be reasonable, won't you?"

you phase behind him again, placing one hand on his back and charging up your energy. he tries to turn around, but you're a second faster, releasing the pent-up force directly into him. mark grimaces in pain as the blast sends him spiraling into the air, flipping and tumbling before crashing into the ground below with a deafening thud.

you crashed onto the ground, unwilling to let him have another opportunity to get up. he saves you the trouble and holds a hand up in surrender.

"i won't fight you." he says simply.

you shake your head incredulously. "it's not a choice."

"i'll come find you when this is all over." he dismissed you easily, walking off your attacks.

"what—?"

he took off at supersonic speed, leaving you in the dust.

THE SURVIVORS

"they're all hovering over mark's house."

"what?! is—"

"debbie and oliver are fine. they're safe elsewhere." cecil cut you off.

you groaned and teleported over to mark's house. unfortunately, they were in your usual spot, hovering over the roof. you hung there in the air for a split second before they all pounced on you.

"we can't all have a y/n, can we?" full mask mark exclaimed, being the first to grab you and spin away from the group with you hidden safely behind him. "i'm taking them and mom back with me."

"you lost mom and y/n?" omnimark shook his head, like a father disappointed in a child. "how can you be trusted with this one?"

you narrowed your eyes. "i'm literally right here—"

"shut the fuck up." prison mark snapped at full mask mark, pushing past omnimark and jabbed a finger at the soft one of the bunch. "i'm tired of your bitching and whining. keep mom, i guess, i don't fuckin' care. but give 'em back."

"i hate you guys." sighed omnimark.

"who said you were getting them?" unmasked mark scoffed and crossed his arms.

"no one's getting me." you broke up the fight, momentarily forgetting that they were all mass murderers just cuz they had your pretty boyfriend's face.

"yeah, cuz you'd rather settle for that stupid fucking mark from this world."

"why'd you say his name like it's a slur?" you deadpanned. "aren't you all technically mark?"

"we're getting off topic." omnimark held out a hand to calm the congregation. "for what it's worth, i have my y/n safe and sound back home—"

"oh for fuck's sake."

© invoncible

[beloveds-embrace]

(a low-effort, self-indulgent post about 141 x sunshine reader with a love for flowers <3)

Moving to a military town had been a gamble. You weren’t military, had no family in the service, and you had no real reason to pick this particular place other than the fact that it was safe, stable, and quiet. The houses were affordable, the people were friendly enough, and you figured you could make a home here. Besides, you were far enough from the base to avoid their early morning drills but close enough to still feel secure.

And it was nice. Really, it was.

The town had its charm. It was small, orderly, and filled with people who were either part of the military or had long grown used to living in the shadow of it.

You just hadn’t expected it to be so… plain.

Everything was muted, designed for practicality rather than beauty. Row after row of beige houses, identical porches, yards that were neat but uninspired. It felt more like a barracks than a town, and you knew you wouldn’t last long surrounded by such monotony.

So, you changed it.

Within a week of moving in, your porch was transformed into a floral wonderland. Ivy and jasmine vines trailed along the railings, hanging baskets, overflowed with cascading petunias, swung from the beams, and the front steps were lined with carefully arranged potted blooms. Roses, marigolds, lavender- anything that could inject some color and life into the dull uniformity of the street.

And the town noticed.

It started small- passersby slowing down, lingering in front of your house, knocking to ask if they can take pictures. Then came the comments at the local market.

“Did you see the new house on [] Street? The one covered in flowers?”

“I thought I was dreaming- looked like something out of a storybook!”

“Oh, that’s her place. She’s always out there, tending to them. Such a sweet thing, always smiling.”

And then came the soldiers.

One morning, while you were watering your newest additions- lilies this time- a group of soldiers on their way to base slowed in front of your house. Their conversation died off, replaced by muttered confusion.

“Didn’t know we had a damn botanical garden in town.” One of them said, adjusting the strap of his gear bag.

“Are those-” Another squinted at your newest arrangement. “Does she change them?”

“She does,” a woman in the group confirmed; you had seen her before, you were sure. “Saw her planting new ones last week. Honestly, it’s nice.”

You smiled to yourself, pretending not to notice as they carried on their way.

But it didn’t stop there.

Another soldier stopped during his run, hands on his hips as he took in your porch. “Hell of a setup.” He commented, glancing at you.

“Thank you!” You beamed, wiping your dirt-streaked hands on your shorts. “Wouldn’t want the town looking too drab, now would we?”

His lips twitched. “Well, you’re succeeding.”

More and more soldiers began to take notice. Some just passed by with lingering glances, others stopped to admire the work. A few even asked for gardening advice- one particularly flustered private admitted he wanted to impress his girlfriend with a flower arrangement but had no idea where to start. You happily helped him pick out a selection, even wrote him a little care guide.

It wasn’t just the passing soldiers, either.

Older women in town would stop by just to chat about your arrangements, some even bringing over cuttings from their own gardens. Parents would pause during walks, their children pointing excitedly at the bright flowers and fairy lights you had strung along the porch. The local baker started leaving small bags of cookies at your door with notes like, Your flowers made my morning brighter!

And then there was Task Force 141, as they’d eventually introduce themselves to you.

The first time you caught Captain John Price standing on your sidewalk, arms crossed as he stared at your house, you thought you were in trouble. He had the kind of presence that demanded respect- commanding, observant, the weight of experience in every movement.

“You lost?” you teased anyways, adjusting a pot of marigolds, and hoping he wouldn’t consider you disrespectful.

Price huffed a quiet laugh, eyes flicking between the vines, the flowers, the fairy lights. “No. Just… wasn’t expecting this.” He gestured vaguely at the floral explosion around you.

“Well,” you grinned. “I refuse to live somewhere that looks like a training camp. You are the soldiers, not me.”

That had been the start of it.

Soap was the next to visit. He showed up a few days later, leaning against your railing as he inspected a cluster of bright yellow sunflowers. “Got any of those that’ll survive my terrible luck?”

You hummed, then handed him a small, sturdy succulent. “Try not to kill it.”

Then came Gaz, who always claimed he was “just passing through” but somehow always found himself near your house. He asked questions- what flowers worked best for balconies? His mum has a love for tending to flowers as well. Did you have any recommendations for someone who had never taken care of a plant in his life?

Regardledd, you happily enjoyed chatting with him, and he left with a small potted fern, promising to send updates.

And then there was Ghost.

Ghost never exactly visited, but you saw him. Once, when you were rearranging your display and muttering about getting new soil, you spotted him standing across the street, arms folded as he observed your work. He didn’t say anything- just gave a barely perceptible nod before disappearing back into the shadows.

But the next morning, a heavy bag of high-quality soil rested against your porch steps. No note. No explanation.

But from what the others had told you of him… you knew who it was from.

The townsfolk had opinions about that, too.

“That group’s been sniffing around your place an awful lot,” Mrs. Holloway, the town baker, noted one morning as she handed you a fresh loaf of bread. “You got yourself a security detail, dear?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I think they just like the flowers.”

The butcher, a gruff man who had lived in the town longer than anyone, grunted in agreement. “Good. Those boys need something nice to look at.”

Even the local barista took notice. “Gaz came in the other day asking if we had any floral-themed drinks,” she giggled, leaning in close to you. “I swear, he’s trying to impress you.”

Ultimately, the town adored what you were doing. Where once there had been dull uniformity, now there was life. People started adding their own touches- small flower pots, window boxes, even a few hanging baskets inspired by yours. The air felt lighter, more welcoming.

And the 141?

They had seen the worst the world had to offer. They had fought in places where beauty was a distant memory, where survival took precedence over everything else.

Yet, somehow, you- sunshine incarnate, with dirt-streaked hands and a smile that could brighten even the darkest day- had managed to burrow into their hardened hearts.