#i know it's been building up a little bit!

[cherriegyuu]

so high school | kmg | part 2

pairing: hockey player mingyu x f!reader  genre: smut (in later part), fluff, a bit of angst, bad attempt at comedy word count: 7.8k summary: when you’re suddenly thrown in Mingyu’s direction, you have no choice but to stay by his side, and maybe it’s not as bad as you think playlist: click here warnings: reader is mentioned to have long hair, mentions of food and alcohol please, remember to comment and reblog, it does mean the world to me and i would love to know your opnions.

< part one >

It had taken you almost two entire weeks to work up the courage to talk to Mingyu again. He had been nice enough not to contact you first. No texts, no calls, and the two times you had bumped into him on campus — aka seen him across the street — he had nodded in greeting, but made no attempt to get closer.

You hated it, admittedly, but you had missed his presence. The annoying texts at inappropriate times, the way he would wave his arm above his head every time he saw you, like he was a kid seeing a friend after a long vacation.

You had no idea how to talk to him. You couldn’t just say haha, I’m sorry I didn’t remember you, even though I saw you every day for two years, you know how it is, right? without sounding like a complete and utter lunatic. And you didn’t even need Jeonghan to pull out his school photo album, which he absolutely did, to rub in your face how completely forgetful you were. The moment Mingyu said the words “she doesn’t remember me”, laughing a little, a somewhat embarrassed by the situation, it was as if the movie of your adolescence suddenly flashed through your eyes.

Every time you had seen him leave the gym, following Jeonghan and Seungcheol closely. At first, he was quiet, just observing everything and later talking to your brother only, and then he was laughing and making jokes along with everyone else. He was obviously loved by his teammates. You remember finding him handsome back then when he was much younger and wore clothes chosen by his mother. You never talked, it’s true, you didn’t even know his name, but you always knew who he was.

How you went from that moment to years later not remembering him, you didn’t know. That was a big mystery, and you had no idea how to answer.

You saw Mingyu leaving the building next to a girl. He smiled and gestured as he talked, clearly excited about the subject at hand. The girl next to him smiled broadly, her body leaning closer to his, despite the clear space between the two of them. She looked at Mingyu as if he had nailed the stars to the sky, as if he was the only reason the sun shone every morning.

You thought about giving up. You were going to interrupt something and you didn't want that, didn't want to draw any kind of attention to yourself, anything more than necessary.

And then Mingyu looked straight ahead, right in your direction. You closed your eyes for a second, forcing yourself to do exactly what you had planned to do from the beginning. Slowly, you raised your right hand in front of your body, at the height of your stomach, and waved. It was a quick and shy movement that you almost didn't want to do.

The smile on Mingyu's face grew huge as if he had seen something that had truly made him happy. He held his arm over his head, swinging it from side to side like a child; you couldn't stop a small smile from spreading across your lips, no matter how hard you tried. 

Mingyu strode across the lawn, the girl he was talking to was left behind, forgotten, calling out his name loudly, but he didn't look back once. She glared at you and you knew, at that very moment, that if you didn't have a single enemy in your life, you had just made one. 

He stopped in front of you, arms crossed over his chest, a smile on his face. It took everything you had to do not to stare at his arms or to keep smiling. 

"Look, who's talking to me, in public" the teasing was clear in his voice. 

"Mingyu" his name came out of your mouth like a warning. 

Even though your tone didn't seem friendly, Mingyu smiled as if having heard a joke. It was almost a losing battle, not smiling while looking at him. You wondered exactly how things had changed, how one day you said "I don’t want to be seen with athletes in public places" to suddenly "talking to an athlete in public and still smiling".

“Sorry.” 

Although he was apologizing, you knew that there wasn’t a single bone, or cell, in Mingyu’s body that felt sorry while he was teasing you.

“I should be the one apologizing. I didn’t remember you.”

That’s why you had looked for him, why you had put all your pride aside and sent a message to Seokmin, asking — in the most delicate and unsuspicious way you could imagine — what Mingyu’s last class of the day was. When he seemed too excited about the whole situation, you didn’t even know that someone could be so excited through message, you were forced to ask him not to tell Mingyu that you had contacted him, because you still didn’t know if you would meet him because you had another appointment at almost the same time and might be late. It was a lie, there was nothing, but you didn’t know if you could trust Seokmin to simply not tell him. 

“It’s okay, I’m sure I don’t remember someone I’ve seen every day for years either.”

You smiled, unable to control it this time, and Mingyu smiled along with you as he took another step closer to you. You knew he was too close, rumors would start spreading around campus any second. You knew you should take a step back, and put more space between you two, you knew you should stop smiling like a teenager. But you just couldn’t force yourself to do anything but stand there. 

“You’re making me feel even worse.” 

“Seriously, it’s okay. I’m not going to use it to blackmail you or anything like that.” 

You wanted to ask him what he could blackmail you with, but that was too close to the line of flirting, and that was an imaginary line you refused to cross with him — even though most of the ones you had set had already been crossed, one by one. 

“Thank you,” was all you allowed yourself to say. 

He uncrossed his arms and shoved his hands in his pockets, rocking back on his heels. 

“Now that you know you’ve been unfair to me, for years I might add, and I’ve been benevolent enough to forgive your mistake, could you please stop making my life difficult and let me do the assignment with you, without me having to beg?” 

You threw your head back, laughing out loud. You wanted to tease him, tell him that he was already begging and pleading, but again, too close to flirting. 

“Benevolent? Ah, a man’s ego.” was all you allowed yourself to say as you rolled your eyes at him. 

Mingyu smiled, lightly bumping his shoulder against yours. 

“Come on, cut me some slack” 

You nodded in agreement, rolling your eyes again. 

“Let’s coordinate our free time and meet up again.” 

“Great.”

“A little green bird told me,” you rolled your eyes before Kira could even continue the sentence, “that you were caught with a certain hockey player.”

“Oh, for the love of God.”

Kira had hooked her arm through yours, her voice cheerful. If voices could have shape and were visible to the naked eye, Kira’s would definitely be bouncing around you. She was almost doing it herself.

You knew someone would have seen you talking, you knew someone saw it and wasn’t happy about it at all, you were sure it was only a matter of time until people were talking about it. You just didn’t think it would be so fast. It had barely been five minutes since you had said goodbye to Mingyu, you knew that that gossip was an inherent part of student life, but the quality and speed were impressive.

“Oh, come on! Tell me what you two talked about, I want to know everything, down to the smallest detail.”

Your friend’s voice was soft, almost like a child whining next to you. Kira knew how much you hated it, more than that, she knew that you would tell her everything, every word, just so that she would finally stop making that pitiful face and that shrilling and completely irritating voice.

“We talked about what I talked about with you,” you sighed, “I apologized for not remembering him, he was annoying and in the end we agreed that I wouldn’t stop him from doing the assignment with me.”

“The little green bird also told me that you were smiling and that you were even blushing while you were talking to him.”

You narrowed your eyes at her. It was true that you had smiled while you were talking to him, you had given up on playing tough. But you were sure that you hadn’t blushed or embarrassed.

“That little bird of yours is wrong. I smiled, yes, but the rest I didn’t do”

“So you didn’t make out in the middle of campus? You didn’t laugh out loud, the kind that makes you throw your head back and close your eyes?”

You simply stared at her, standing in the same place, refusing to move an inch. The student's gossip was fast, impressive, and deceitful.

“Some guy saw you guys and told everyone about it. I was walking by and heard it. They weren’t exactly talking quietly.”

You nodded and started to walk again. You didn’t have anywhere to go, but you didn’t want to stay either. Even if it wasn’t true, you felt like everyone was staring right at you, like you were a circus attraction in the center of the red and white tent.

“Nothing happened. We talked, I smiled, he said something funny and I laughed. That was it.”

It was a little strange that everyone was at your house at the same time. By everyone, you mean Mingyu and Seokmin, who were there to continue the project, and Jeonghan and Seungcheol, the first because it was his house and the second for god knows what — your best bet was that he had come there to see Mingyu, but he could also simply have wanted to see you embarrassed, it was almost like it was his and Jeonghan's favorite pastime.

You hadn't bothered to tell Jeonghan that the two of them were going home with you after class, you were sure that if you had told him and asked him not to be there, he would simply ignore your request. Besides, the rabbit was out of the hat already, there was nothing left to hide. Seungcheol being there was a surprise, but Mingyu knew him too and you figured he had told Seokmin everything.

Seokmin's behavior was surprising. He had greeted Jeonghan and Seungcheol when he came in, chatted with them for a bit, and then sat down at the table with you. You couldn’t help but wonder if Mingyu had scolded him and just how harsh he had been — though you didn’t think Mingyu and harsh were words that went together.

“Sorry about the other day,” Seokmin said. “I was just surprised.”

You shook your head. You had thought a lot about that day, about how you would have reacted in a very similar way if you had run into someone you were a fan of like that, at someone’s house from college. You had been taken by surprise, and that was one of the things you hated the most. You liked to have everything under control, to have all the cards in your hands, to know all the information before actually getting into a situation. You had made a bet by taking Mingyu and Seokmin home, and you lost. That had nothing to do with Seokmin.

“If I were his fan, I would have reacted the same way,” you assured him, not liking that he had become so quiet and introverted. “And look, they love the attention, so you can go as crazy as you want, you have my approval. And if they complain, you can talk to me.”

Seokmin laughed and turned his attention back to the book open in front of him, reading carefully and taking notes in the notebook next to it.

It wasn’t long before Mingyu entered the room too, still laughing a little at whatever he had talked to Jeonghan and Seungcheol about. He seemed distracted as he sat down and took his cell phone out of his pocket, placing it on the table, face down after checking the notifications.

It was impossible not to think about the conversation you had with Kira days ago, the fact that suddenly the entire college believed that you had hooked up because you had only talked for a few minutes. Could it have been gossip that had spread uncontrollably and thus taken on traits that had nothing to do with reality, or had Mingyu, in all his stereotype of dumb athlete and famous for being a womanizer, spread lies around, bragging about something that hadn't happened?

You hoped it wasn't the second option, not when hating someone for simply existing was just so much work, not when you had started to think he was a cool guy, not when every time you got a message from him you felt like an excited teenager seeing signs where there was supposed to be only a black screen.

"There's something I want to know," the voice came from the living room, distant at first, but getting closer with each syllable.

You were sure that this sudden approach from Seungcheol couldn't bring anything good. Especially when he had a cocky smile on his lips, the kind that you knew, just by looking at him, that he was not going to do anything worth of noticing and at any second someone was going to be embarrassed. And, in this case, you were sure that someone would be you.

Jeonghan was right behind him, his eyes showing that he didn’t know what it was about, but seemingly enjoying the whole situation.

“Seungcheol,” his name came out of your lips in a mix of warning and plea.

“When we were in school, you,” he stopped behind Mingyu, his hands on the younger’s shoulders as he leaned forward, “had the biggest crush on our dear youngest Yoon”

You closed your eyes and wished that someone, anything, would hit Seungcheol in the head with all its strength, to the point he would faint and no longer be able to open his mouth to say a bunch of nonsense.

You turned to Jeonghan, who seemed confused by the whole situation — having been completely taken by surprise by Seungcheol's revelations. His eyes went from you, to Mingyu, to Seungcheol, and back to Mingyu.

Mingyu was pale as if he had just seen a ghost, his eyes wide and his hands frozen in front of his body. The pen that was spinning between his fingers had rolled across the table and stopped in front of Seokmin, who was looking at the situation in complete shock.

“Do you still have a crush on her or is that a thing of the past?”

“Oh for the love of god, Seungcheol, shut up.”

Even Jeonghan, who loved a joke, a tease to the very last second, was uncomfortable with the situation. He didn't know where to put his hands or who to look at. Mingyu seemed to want to sink into his chair. Seokmin had his chin glued to his chest, his eyes completely focused on the open book.

“Dude”

Jeonghan slapped Seungcheol on the head, who was just laughing at the situation as if everything was a big joke to him and probably it really was. The only problem was that no one was laughing with him.

“That's a valid question! I'm sure you're curious too”

You pushed the chair you were sitting in back hard, the friction of the metal on the floor probably leaving marks that would be there forever.

“Seriously, what's your problem?”

You grabbed the hood of Seungcheol's coat and pulled him out of the room, while he complained and made a fuss.

“You're strangling me!”

You rolled your eyes.

“At least you'll stop talking shit”

You stopped only when you were close to the door and could reach the doorknob with your free hand.

“It’s just a joke!” he tried to defend himself.

“You don’t have the right to come to my house and embarrass my friends, so if you don’t know how to behave, you can leave.”

You turned your back to him for a second, just long enough to grab his bag from the couch and throw it into his arms.

“You can’t kick me out, it’s not even your house.”

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes.

“Jeonghan?” you said without turning to look at your brother, your eyes never leaving Seungcheol.

“It’s her house, yeah.”

You raised your eyesbrows at him, mimicking him.

“See? Great, you can go now.”

Needless to say, the rest of the night had been pretty close to a funeral. Jeonghan had holed up in his room and you suspected he was either asleep or dead, because he hadn't made a single sound and hadn't come out for anything.

Mingyu didn't even dare to look at you, much less talk with you. A night that was already embarrassing enough because you still had college rumors swimming around in your brain had gotten even worse because, at some point during the night, Seungcheol had decided, in a not-so-casual way, to drop the bomb that Mingyu had a crush on you.

And no matter how much you thought about it, how many ways you tried to analyze and remember those years, it didn't make sense.

You were sure you had never spoken to Mingyu, that you hadn't spoken directly to him before. The first time you talked was a few weeks before, in college. Even if you didn't remember him, you were certain you hadn't of it. You always made a point of staying away from Jeonghan's teammates, your brother made a point of keeping them away too.

That old story, when one doesn't want to, two don't fight. And in this case, neither you nor Jeonghan had any interest in you getting closer to his teammates.

In your head, it didn't make sense. Seungcheol was just talking a bunch of nonsense because he could, because he knew you never had the urge to argue with him. With Jeonghan? Silly arguments were normal, you sent your brother to hell as easily as you fell asleep after a long day. But not with Seungcheol, because you knew he loved the fights, he had fun, you always chose to just let him talk until he got tired. It was one thing to tease you and another one, entirely too different, to do it with your friends.

Logically, you knew that at some point in the past Mingyu had been friends with him too, but you also knew that that friendship had died the moment Seungcheol graduated from school.

Seokmin was the only one who dared to say something, completely focused on the assignment, but it was obvious that he was trying to break the ice of the situation. Trying and failing.

“I think it’s time for us to go,” Seokmin said as soon as he heard the sound of a door coming down the hallway and a second later Jeonghan walked towards the kitchen.

“Yeah, it’s kinda late” Mingyu agreed and stood up.

There was no way to disagree with them, it was late and the mood had gone down the drain. Prolonging the situation would almost be a form of torture for the three of you.

“Sorry about Seungcheol”

You didn’t know what to do with your hands. You wished you had pockets so you could have somewhere to hide them, but the leggings and shirt you were wearing didn’t provide any hiding spots.

“It’s okay, really” Mingyu assured you “He’s always been like this”

Seokmin went into the living room, but you and Mingyu remained standing there, barely breathing. You wanted to ask if it was true, if he really had a crush on you, or if Seungcheol was just trying to annoy someone and chose Mingyu. You also didn't understand what he had said, about Seungcheol “always being like this”. Did he mean annoying or someone who teased his friends with embarrassing secrets? Either answer would be correct but you wanted to hear it from him.

You wanted to ask, but you didn't have the courage. If it was true, it was bad and if it was a lie, it was worse. If it was true, you would feel even worse for not remembering him right away. If it was a lie, it would be bad you had liked to hear, when you knew you shouldn't care.

“I don't know if it's a good time,” he said, “but there's a game on Friday. You could go and take Kira with you.”

You were shaking your head before he could even finish speaking.

“It can’t, I already have a thing already” 

“Oh, okay” he nodded and turned to the living room. “Bye, Jeonghan.” 

Your brother appeared in the living room, putting his phone in his pocket, but looking like he had heard the entire conversation between you and Mingyu. 

“Bye.” 

You closed the door when you saw Mingyu and Seokmin enter the elevator. You were ready to hide in your room and try, even if it was impossible, to understand what had happened that night, but of course, Jeonghan had other plans. He was leaning against the wall in the hallway, his arms crossed over his chest, an inquisitive look on his face. 

“Don’t start,” you warned. 

Everything that had happened, not only that night but also during the week, had simply been too much for you. You had just gotten used to the idea of ​​having Mingyu around, you had started to like having him around. But then everything happened so fast. A laugh on the sidewalk had become an unbridled make-out, a smile a declaration of love. 

The rumors had gotten worse since that first day. Kira talked about them carefully, mainly because she knew you didn't want to be associated with athletes in any way, but she never failed to tell you anything about what was going on. That's only you begged her to tell you, otherwise it would be like in those cliché movies, the girl walking down the hallway and discovering all the rumors that were going around about her because she overheard someone's conversation. 

And it wasn't like you hadn't gotten stares in the hallways, but the truth is that you had gotten used to them when you were still a teenager. Getting into that same skin of an apathetic, uncaring person was pretty easy. 

"Why didn't you accept going to his game? You like it. It would have been fun” 

And on top of that, as the cherry on the cake, because of course life couldn't just make things a little easier for you, there was that whole shit show from a few hours before. Even though you hated the situation with a passion, you knew there was some truth to it. At that moment, you felt, once again, as if you were still 15 years old, sitting in the living room at home, enduring whatever nonsense Seungcheol decided to say.

Seungcheol was the kind of guy who made jokes out of real situations. In that sense, he was the complete opposite of Jeonghan. Your brother came up with impossible situations, bordering on insanity, and spoke about them with such conviction that you felt compelled to believe him. Seungcheol, on the other hand, took small facts and distorted them, or just exaggerated them in some way.

At that moment, sitting at that table, watching Mingyu's face become completely devoid of any color, you knew it was true. Maybe, yes, an exaggerated version of the truth, but a truth nonetheless.

“Jeonghan, it's just… I can’t”

You walked past him. That scene was too familiar and despite the theme of the conversation being different, you didn't want to have to go through the same situation again.

“Because of me?”

“Because of him.”

You hated seeing that look on Jeonghan’s face like he blamed himself for everything that was wrong with you. Daddy issues? Mommy issues? Apparently, you had brother issues.

“You know, one day I hope you stop caring so much about what people think, because you’re barely living your life right now, hoping that someone, someday, won’t care.”

Jeonghan's words floated through your mind for days. You found yourself standing in the middle of the campus several times, analyzing the people who were walking from one side to the other, some in a hurry, others talking to each other, many too distracted with phones in their hands to pay attention to what was happening around them. 

None of them, no matter how much part of your brain said otherwise, seemed to care about you. 

Even though you had been the main topic of conversation for a few days, everything changed when someone on the football team got drunk enough to kneel on a bar table crying, declaring his undying love to a girlfriend from elementary school. You had hidden yourself for so long, away from everything that you considered to be a problem, that you had forgotten how things worked. 

No one really cared — no one might be a little too much to say, but very few people looked at you and cared about what was happening. It was much easier to understand the situation than to start acting differently, but you hoped it was a start, however small it was. 

Your phone started to vibrate in your hand, a second later the screen lit up, and the word mom flashed on the screen. You knew what she wanted. You had been avoiding her calls and messages for a couple days. But you knew you couldn't pretend you were in class anymore, come up with some lame excuse to ignore her. She had even called Jeonghan and asked, or rather ordered, him to tell you to call her. You had avoided it as much as possible.

“Hi, mom”

“Ah, you finally remembered you have a mom”

You could imagine the exact scene: your mother walking back and forth, her hair tied into a low ponytail, gesturing before dropping her hand and slapping her thigh. You couldn't help but smile when you heard the clear sound of footsteps, followed by a slap.

“Sorry, I've been busy. You know how it is.”

“I can always talk to your brother just fine”

You knew she didn’t mean anything, you knew it wasn’t a comparison — at least not a conscious one — but the sentence was received with a sting anyway.

“That’s because Jeonghan has a schedule for literally everything. I study until I nearly blackout or my brain turns to pudding, which ever comes first.”

You walked to nearest bench and sat down with a sigh.

“Have you been sleeping? Eating enough? You and your brother are terrible cooks, and I know he eats at the club most of the time, but what about you? I can come by every week and bring you food, it’s not a problem.”

She kept talking nonstop, you were sure she was already making a list of everything she needed to make enough food for a week. 

“Mom!” you said loudly, loud enough for the girl next to you, who had headphones on, to look at you. You smiled awkwardly, lowering your head a little in apology. “Mom, we’re fine. We learned how to cook enough to survive.”

“Noodles are not a real meal.”

You rolled your eyes.

“We have vegetables, rice, and meat at home, Mom. I went shopping yesterday,” you said before she could say anything.

“One of these days I’ll show up and surprise you.”

“And on that day, you’ll find the fridge full and food ready,” you said jokingly.

You were silent for a few seconds, until she spoke again, this time her tone much more cautious.

“I know you don’t like it very much, that you’d rather be anywhere else, doing anything else, than participating in this, but just this year, couldn’t you consider going to the hospital gala? I know it’s the middle of the semester, that you have a lot of things to do, that you’re looking for an internship, but it’s just one night and…”

Even with all the differences you had with your mother, you didn’t like seeing — in this case, hearing — her begging for anything, much less for your presence at an event that you knew was important to the family. Ever since you started refusing to go to it, your mother never forced you to go. She insisted a little on the first year and asked if you hadn’t changed your mind at the last minute. But never like that. For whatever reason, she wanted you at the party, and by extension, you knew your father did too.

“I’ll go, Mom. I’m going to buy a dress tomorrow.”

Despite the distance, you knew your mother’s breath had caught in her throat, that she was trying her best to control herself. She liked parties and glamor and she liked it even more when you attended. And you liked it too, until… until you decided to avoid it.

You had to start somewhere, this whole thing of not caring what people thought. It was best to start somewhere at least somewhat familiar, right?

“I… set… I have…” she cleared her throat and began again “I made hair and makeup appointments for me. You want me to schedule it for you too?”

Her voice was almost shaking, making you feel even worse. Had you alienated yourself from mother to the point where she was shaking just because you agreed to go to a party?

“Could you make an appointment for a manicure too? I need to get my nails done.”

He walked into the room, adjusting his tie around his neck, laughing at whatever his sister had said, hating the feeling of being suffocated. He wanted, almost desperately, to take off the damn tie, but he knew better than to. His sister would laugh at the situation, but his parents, especially his father, would not be happy about it. It's not like he disliked the event itself, but he hated having to pretend. Pretending that he and his parents got along well and that the smiles they gave when someone complimented Mingyu were genuine. 

It was all completely and utterly fake. 

The truth was that Mingyu barely spoke to his parents. He didn't know when was the last time he had talked to them, just to talk. He didn't know what it was like to ask if everything was okay just because he cared. He didn't know what it was like to send a picture of a place, or anything, to his mom because he could, because he wanted to like he always saw Seokmin do. 

He always tried his best to keep his distance. Maybe being so far away from his parents wouldn't make him feel like a complete failure every time he thought about them. Logically, he knew that wasn't the case, he knew he wasn't a failure, but he was a disappointment to his parents. So he kept his distance, it was easier.

He still attended events like that to keep up appearances, that was an important thing to them. Not having received support, affection, or love from his parents since he was 17? Insignificant compared to the need to maintain the idea of ​​a united and happy family in front of their friends.

In the end, he didn't mind going to events like that, supposedly for charity. He liked seeing his sister and deep down he liked seeing his parents' friends praising him and saying how amazing it was that he had a career completely independent of his parents and even without their help.

Mingyu liked to think that his father had opened up about not having helped him at all in an attempt to seem tough and smarter than his son, but that only made him seem bitter every time his career as an athlete was the subject of conversation. Besides, he could see his school friends again. So it was a win-win situation: his parents kept up appearances and he had fun reminiscing about his school days as if it had been 20 years instead of just 3.

“If you keep pulling that tie, it’ll rip,” his sister said, laughing as she forced Mingyu’s hand down.

“It’s suffocating”

“Oh, you poor baby,” she pouted mockingly at Mingyu.

Mingyu shook his head and turned to the rest of the room, looking for a familiar face. He quickly found Jeonghan and Seungcheol but decided not to approach them as he normally would. If it had been last year’s party, Mingyu would have talked to them both, but this time he chose to stay in the same place.

That night at Jeonghan’s house still left a bitter taste in Mingyu’s mouth. He had a plan, which might not have worked — that probably wouldn’t have worked — but if one day you found out about his teenage crush, Mingyu wanted you to find out by him, and not through some guy who had brought it up for no reason. He wanted to ask you out, to go little by little until you felt comfortable with him. But Seungcheol did him the huge favor of throwing everything out the window for a joke.

It’s like that old saying: I lose the friend, but I don’t lose the joke. And Mingyu wasn’t his friend, not now or back in school, so truthfully there was no loss for Seungcheol.

And then he saw you.

For a second he thought it was a mirage. It had been years since you had last been to that kind of event. Your last one was Mingyu’s first. He thought he was imagining things, that he was so crazy wanting to talk to you that he had started to imagine you in places you weren’t.

He watched as you walked right past Seungcheol, even when he tried to talk to you and stopped next to Jeonghan. Your expression was serious, a little uncomfortable, but beautiful. 

The strapless dress slid down your body, almost as if it had been molded to your curves perfectly, tailored just for you. Your hair was loose over your back, just two strands framing your face. And your lips... lips painted in the sexiest shade of red he had ever seen.

Forget the little crush he had back in high school, this didn't even compare. It was a goddamn waterfall. Mingyu felt like he was standing next to one too with the way his heart was beating so loudly and deafening in his ears. 

It was official, he was lost. He didn't know what to do. It was the first time he had felt this nervous in your presence. Before, it had been like butterflies flying around in his stomach, that kind of fun anxiety, the one that makes one giddy and excited. 

He tugged at his tie again and grabbed a glass from the tray of a waiter who passed by. He didn't know what it was and also he didn't care, he needed something to wet his throat. The liquid went down bitterly, burning. The surprise made him have a small coughing fit.

Suddenly it was as if all eyes had turned to him, including yours. You smiled slowly as Minseo patted Mingyu on the back, trying to help, but making the situation even worse.

You quickly turned to Jeonghan, saying something for a second before walking towards Mingyu. With each step you took, he felt like his heart was beating faster and faster, to the point of almost exploding in his chest.

Over your shoulder, he saw Jeonghan smile and give him a thumbs up.

"Go for a walk," he said to his sister, without taking his eyes off you.

Did he say a waterfall? Forget it, it was more like an entire ocean.

Unconsciously, you smoothed your dress at least twice as you walked towards Mingyu. In a place full of so many theoretically important people, much more important than the two of you, it was very easy to go to him. Taking all those steps wasn't scary at all.

The feeling was completely different from that one time you had talked in college. That day, you had waited for him, your fingers trembling a little because you were in a place where anyone could see you. However, at that moment, you didn't feel any kind of nervousness.

Maybe, there was some nervousness, but the good kind. When you're excited to do something, the kind that you were sure would bring good things. You liked to think that the good thing at the moment was Mingyu.

"You look, wow... stunning."

He smiled and it was as if the breath had been taken from you, as if for a whole second your lungs forgot their purpose, forgot that they were supposed to push air into your body.

“Look at you, using pretty words,” you somehow found your voice again.

You tried your best to hide the nervousness you felt, the slight tremor in your voice. You didn’t know why you were feeling that way. You had seen Mingyu so many times, before and after you found out who he was. You had seen him in a pair of sweats and a t-shirt walking around campus; you were at the bar when he walked in wearing an all-denim look and glasses on the back of his head — you remembered finding that way of wearing glasses ridiculous, but you hated to admit that it made sense on him —, you had seen him walking around with his cap on backward.

You had always made a point of staying as far away from him and the circle he frequented as possible, but you could never deny that he was gorgeous. But there, in that moment, in that a black suit, his tie a little crooked and the most magnificent smile you had ever seen, you thought that maybe you didn’t need to force yourself to be away from him all the time.

“Just to impress a beautiful woman.”

You smiled, even though you tried to contain yourself, pressing your lips together. But you knew it was useless. There wasn't a single cell in your body that didn't like the attention you were getting, that didn't like his compliments.

“You haven't been to one of these in years.”

You nodded and looked over your shoulder. Your mother was chatting animatedly with a colleague, her eyes shining as she held out her hand and a second later your father was beside her.

You had all these differences with your parents, things that you disliked about them, and that made you keep your distance from them, but the truth is that you loved them.

When you arrived at your parent's house to get ready earlier that day, your dress in the bag, your backpack almost falling off your shoulders, it was as if you had been transported to your house 8 years before. But it was also different.

You half expected some comment, anything, no matter how small, that could be a comparison with Jeonghan — how even though he was completely busy with work if he didn't have a game or any specific schedule, he would always go to events, while you did everything to avoid it. But the comment never came.

Your mother sat by your side all day, asking you questions about yourself, about college, about the internship. She never mentioned Jeonghan, and when you tried to mention him, the only answer you got was “I don’t want to know about your brother, I want to know about you.” 

You wanted to cry when you heard those words. It was the kind of thing you laways wanted to hear from her. The confirmation that you didn’t need to be compared to Jeonghan, that it was okay not to live in his shadow all the time. 

“Do you come every year?” 

“Yeah, my mother and sister would forgive me if I missed it.” 

You nodded with a low noise in the back of your throat and took a step forward, your body a little too close to Mingyu’s, your fingers closing around his tie and pulling it slightly to the side until it was aligned with the buttons of his shirt. 

You didn’t know what possessed you to do that. All your sane neurons, which hadn’t melted when he smiled at you for the first time, screamed that you were one step away from insanity, that you were, in fact, already crazy. You were sure that nurses the size of refrigerators would show up and take you to the psychiatric ward of the hospital at any second.

You licked your lips and took a step back, avoiding looking directly at Mingyu. 

“It was the first time my mother managed to convince me in years” you admitted. 

You looked around, looking for a waiter, wishing one would materialize in front of you, just so you could have something to hold on to, but have something to do with his hands, but there was none around. 

“I'll thank her as soon as I see her.” 

“You're a shameless flirt, aren't you?” 

“Only when there's a gorgeous woman in front of me.”

The rest of the night went by smoothly, without any temporary bouts of insanity. There were a few moments, but you managed to control yourself every time. You managed to control the urge you had when you were next to him, to simply hold his hand. 

Your mother was a great help, taking you away from Mingyu now and then to introduce you to some friends and coworkers. Jeonghan was by your side every time you weren't with Mingyu, like a bodyguard. You wondered if he was acting that way because you had said those things to him before; and if your mother's change in attitude was also related. Despite it all, although you had been shown off for part of the night, you had had fun. It could also have been the alcohol talking. 

You had accepted a few more glasses than you should have. You were far from drunk, but you were certainly not in your sanest state. However, the alcohol brought a wave of courage to you, which until then had been completely unknown. 

Towards the end of the gala, after dinner, when some of the guests had already started to leave, you saw Mingyu at the table next to yours. His parents sat in front of him, his sister next to him, and some people you had no idea who they were sat on at the edges. Mingyu kept his head low, nodding now and then. He seemed desperate to get out of there.

Before reason could prevail, you stood up and walked towards him. You placed your hand on his shoulder and leaned your body forward until your face was close to his.

“Can you help me with something?”

You didn't notice the tremor in Mingyu's voice when he asked to be excused because your whole body was shaking too. You smiled at his parents and turned towards the exit, needing some fresh air.

A new wave of tremors and electricity ran through your body when Mingyu put his hand on your lower back. He was neither guiding nor rushing you. His hand was simply there, lightly. He pulled the door open for you and somehow still managed to keep his hand on you. 

You liked it, the weight of it, his presence there.

"Did something happen?" he asked when you were far enough from the door and prying ears, letting his hand drop at the side of his body.

You just shook your head, wrapping your arms around yourself, suddenly missing the warmth from inside. 

"No, you just seemed to be suffering" you half smiled, half laughed, suddenly feeling a little pathetic for assuming things. 

Mingyu smiled at you then, removing his jacket and dropping it over your shoulder.

"Thank you. If it weren't for you, this night would have sucked entirely"

It was silent for a minute, neither one of you doing anything at all. You were simply standing side by side, his elbow brushing yours from time to time while he rocked on his heels. 

It was most definitely the alcohol talking, it had to be because there was no way you'd ever say what you were about to say if it weren't for it. Never, in good and normal conscience you'd have been bold enough. And yet, there you were. 

"Can I ask you something?" 

You turned to him and got a nod as an answer, his eyes expectant and curious. You forced the words out before you had the chance to stop yourself. 

"That day, at my place, Seungcheol mentioned you having a crush on me. Was that true?"

There was a beat of silence, as Mingyu's smile slowly dropped. It was enough to make you regret the question, almost enough to make you regret the whole thing. Seeing Mingyu at the gala was a pleasant surprise, his presence was something you were grateful for during the night. You didn't mean to ruin it at the last minute. 

You blamed the alcohol, though it had very little to do with your decision. You had been curious and wanted to ask Jeonghan about it but didn't dare to do so, not when you knew that your brother would be able to read right through you. 

You blamed Seungcheol and his constant puppy eyes throughout the night, following your every move. His clear apologetic look, though no sorry words were said. His pride was too big for that. 

You blamed yourself too, for being curious about it. You were just fine when he was just a guy from college, someone you'd see now and then in a poster, or someone you heard of in passing. 

You blamed Mingyu too.

"Yeah, it was," he finally answered, sinking his hands into his pants pockets.

Screw it, you thought, if it's raining I might as well get drenched.

"And now?"

You held your breath, waiting for his answer. 

"Still is," he said, voice soft, this almost apologetic smile on his lips. 

You closed your eyes for just a second, somehow lavishing on his answer. There was a small smile on your lips as you turned to him, gripping his tie and pulling him down until you could press your lips to his. 

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[flemingsfreckles]

Drunk Dial Pt. 3

Read the rest of the series here

Warnings: mentions of sex, illusions to sex, cursing, verbal argument, basically Jessie and R yelling at each other for the majority of this chapter

WC: 3.4k

A/N: this is the end of this little series, i have a feeling some of you won’t be too happy with this being where i leave it, but this is sort of a left up to your interpretation ending… don’t forget some of you voted for this ;) (unknowingly, but you did)

You stood looking at yourself in the bathroom off of Haley’s bedroom. Across your body, a sleep shirt from some college, not one you attended and it wasn’t the familiar UCLA logo you had grown to know. On your bottom a pair of sleep shorts you didn’t recognize either. You had just woken up but you were ready to go home, you didn’t need to stay here, you felt out of place being here. That’s when you see your phone light up, Jessie’s face across it.

“Shit shit shit.” You scramble to grab your phone.

You quickly pop your head into Haley’s bedroom. “Uh, sorry, phone call, I should take this. It’s um, work.” You lied, she nodded and pointed out the door toward her living room.

Once the door is closed behind you, you take a deep breath and answer the call, bringing the phone to your ear.

“Hey.” You whisper.

“Hey, why are you whispering?” Jessie’s tone immediately turned accusatory.

“Um, no reason.” You say, clearing your throat and trying to make the hush in your voice less obvious. It’s not like you could tell her where you were, she didn’t need to know the choices you made last night and how regretful you were about them this morning.

“Okay, well I’m on my way over, we need to talk. About last night, about the other night, we need to talk about all of it.”

“Um.” You frantically look around the living room, finding your sweatshirt that had been haphazardly thrown off last night, slipping it over your head. “I’m not home right now. So just give me a little bit.”

“Where are you? It’s 8 in the morning.” You could hear traffic in the background of Jessie’s call, an indication she was likely already on her way.

“No where, I can be there in like 30 minutes.” You hang up before she can ask you any more questions about your whereabouts. You open the bedroom door, Haley is now sitting up in bed, the covers pulled up around her body.

“Hey sorry, I um, I have to go, work calls.” You play it off with a smile and a shake of your cell phone.

“Oh no worries.” She waves a hand at you and gives you a polite smile.

My clothes?” You question the girl.

“Should still be out by the couch.”

“Right, thanks.” You hurry out toward the couch, grabbing the pile of clothes before heading back into the bathroom, quickly taking off the shirt and shorts you had been lent, putting your own jeans and shirt from the night before back on. You walk out of the bathroom, giving Haley another look. “I put the dirty ones in the basket.”

“Got it, thanks.” She gives you a nod. “Have a good rest of your day, I’ll text you. Good luck with, ya know, everything.”

“Thanks.” You give her a tightlipped smile before excusing yourself and heading out her bedroom door and down the hall out of her apartment. You hopped in your car, barely letting it turn on before you threw it in drive. Driving faster than you should have, you raced to your place, hoping somehow you would be able to beat Jessie there.

Your heart drops when you turn the corner toward the entryway of your building and there stands Jessie. You can see the expression on Jessie’s face turn sour, nearly a smile at the start before she examines you and she’s suddenly sporting a scowl. “So I guess that date must have been better than you lead on.” Jessie states as she looks you up and down once you’re a few feet from her.

“It wasn’t like that.”

“Are you sure? You clearly went to see someone after you left me.” She gestures to your clothing, you suddenly wish you had spare clothes in the car, or you had worn Haley’s clothes home, you could’ve played it off that you had bought new ones, that Jessie just hasn’t seen them before. But you were wearing the clothes she had touched and seen last night, she knew. “I have a feeling it was her. You left me, for her, for someone you barely know.”

“Jessie, that’s not what happened.” You notice your voice raising, trying to defend yourself in an unfortunate situation.

“You sure? Because that’s how it feels and that’s what it fucking looks like.” Jessie raises her voice right back at you, something she had hardly done when the two of you were together, occasionally during an argument but the Canadian held her temper and emotions close most of the time. She waved a hand up and down reminding you that you were in fact still in your clothes from last night.

“Can we do this inside?” You look around at the pedestrian traffic that is passing by the two of you. A couple giving you looks as the two of you argued.

“Sure.” Jessie says, rolling her eyes but following you silently as you open the door to your building and walk to the elevator. The ride up is quiet, as is the walk down the hallway. Once inside your apartment you find your way to the dining room, pulling out a chair and sitting down.

“So we should talk about what happened, all of it.” You say, a twinge in annoyance in your voice.

“Where do you want to start?” Jessie says, propping herself against the wall, her arms crossed across her chest.

the way she stood, arms crossed in defense as if you were the only one in the wrong here, pissed you off. “Oh I don’t know Jessie. Maybe the part where you hid the fact that I told you my feelings when I was drunk? Or how when I left the next morning you told me you weren’t in love with me anymore, only for you drunkenly invited me out last night only to drop the bomb on me that you do in fact still love me? Or how you were trying to get me to take you home and fuck you last night? We have options Jessie, where do you want to start?”

“Where do I want to start?” She stares back at you, raising her voice slightly. “You’re the one who broke the no contact that we had agreed on in the first place calling me after you got stood up! You’re the one who hid these feelings and were too scared to tell me all this time. Then you confess them while you’re drunk, leaving me in a weird spot. I didn’t know what to do. Not to mention your little “gift” you gave me. I’m sorry for calling you yesterday if that’s what you want to hear. But coming yesterday and then pawning me off to Arnold was a shitty move.”

“I didn’t pawn you off, jez Jessie, I wanted to make sure you were safe! You were drunk, it wasn’t the right time for us to talk, or sort this out.” You throw your hands up at her, fists clenched in frustration.

“But it was the time for you to go fuck some girl you hardly know?!” Her cheeks were starting to turn the familiar red that you used to tease her for, you always thought she looked adorable with the slight blush, only now that blush that was caused by compliments or teasing comments was now being caused by the way she yelled at you.

“I didn’t fuck her!” You scream back, your hand coming down to hit the table. You had never yelled at Jessie like this, not when you argued or fought, not when you broke up, never.

Jessie scoffs, “I find that hard to believe.” She’s still defensive in her tone but it’s quieter, almost as if she’s scared.

You immediately drop the anger from your voice. “Jessie I didn’t. I wasn’t in a good mood last night when I left the bar, I panicked, and I called her because I needed someone. I got to her place, and when she let me in, we watched a movie and talked and I broke down about you to her. I was hysterical, I didn’t know what to do.”

That was the truth. You had been embarrassed about it, you showed up to Haley’s door. You knew she was likely expecting sex, that you had called her for a late night hook up. Instead what she got was you at her doorstep, asking to talk.

You started off by apologizing for wasting her time on your date earlier that day. You told her you weren’t ready to commit to anything, and you should’ve realized that before trying to date again. She had been understanding, not making you feel any worse for what had happened. The two of you agreed friendship could be the path you take instead. The more you two talked the more you told her. You told her about Jessie, your past and your current feelings. She offered as good of advice as she could and when you cried about it, she comforted you, offering you to stay the night due to how late it was. You took her up on the offer for the couch, and also for the pair of old shorts and shirt to sleep in. You thought nothing of it, no one would know, it wouldn’t be a problem. You hadn’t expected Jessie to call you bright and early the next morning demanding to see you instantly.

“But you spent the night, you were there this morning, that’s why you were whispering.”

“On the couch! I spent the night on the couch!” You exclaim. “Jessie, I don’t know how to prove it, nothing happened between her and I, we didn’t even kiss. She was being a friend, that’s all I see myself being with her.”

“I find that so hard to believe!”

“We didn’t do anything, nothing!”

“Fine, let’s say you didn’t fuck her, did you go with the intention of fucking her? Did you plan to use her to get over me, to get me out of your head?”

Her question catches you off guard. “I-” you stutter, unsure of what to say and unsure of what your answer even should be. The truth was, you didn’t know. Maybe some tiny bit of you thought maybe you’d get laid, maybe some bit of you just wanted attention, the comfort of another body on yours, some part of you wanted someone to rant to, complain to. You just wanted someone.

Jessie clicks her tongue as you struggle to find the right words. “That’s all I need to know.” She nods slowly before starting to turn away from you.

“No Jessie, wait!” You stand up fast, knocking your chair out from behind you, creating a loud crash that has Jessie turning back to see what had happened. You leave the chair, climbing over it to make your way closer to her.

“No, because clearly you don’t know what you want, I can’t get involved with you again if you don’t know what you want.” She says walking away and towards the door.

“I know what I want.” You say as you walk after her, you couldn’t let her walk out of that door on you, you couldn’t lose her for a second time. You reach your hand out, catching hers stopping her in her tracks. She shakes her hand from your grip.

“I’m leaving.” Her hand turns the doorknob and as she steps out she turns back. “Call me once you have your head on straight and can actually talk with me.”

Being beyond frustrated your anger comes back and you shout at her as you watch her head down the hallway. “Fuck you Jessie, you invited yourself over, no warning, nothing, what if I wasn’t ready to talk?!”

She doesn’t answer, she doesn’t even turn back, doesn’t lift her head. She ignores you. The door to the stairs is swung open and her figure quickly disappears as she leaves out of your building.

“Fuck.” It wasn’t going to fix anything but shouting made it hurt less for the time being, so did the swift kick you gave to the door as you closed it.

That was your chance. That was your chance and you fucked it up.

You sent the rest of the afternoon spiraling, unsure of what to say, what to do, nothing felt right. You had cried, your eyes and head both still throbbing as a result. You spent a fair amount of time staring off at the wall, feeling numb to your surroundings. It wouldn’t change anything, you had the opportunity and you failed to win her back. When you tucked yourself into bed early, you tried everything in your power but to think of that brown eyes girl.

But you couldn’t get her out of your mind, she was in every thought, every emotion you had.

“This is so stupid.” The same words you had mumbled to yourself as you got out of your warm bed you repeated to yourself as you started walking. You were walking down the streets of Portland at quarter to midnight, not your brightest idea but you couldn’t stop thinking about her. You should’ve driven, probably safer and faster, but walking cleared your head and that’s what you needed, a clear head.

You walked yourself all the way to the doorstep of Jessie’s townhome, banging on the door. Raising your fist again to knock the door swings open and you nearly punch the Canadian.

“Sorry.”

“What are you doing here?” Her voice is raspy, a little deep, you realize you’ve probably woken her from a sleep. She steps onto the porch closing the door behind her.

“I shouldn’t have let you leave earlier. I should have never let you leave. I still want you Jessie, I was stupid before, so stupid to let you ever go, I should’ve fought for you, I should’ve figured something else out, I should’ve tried something else before we called it quits.” You confess to her.

“So what, are you still in love with me?” The silence between the two of you after she asked was painful, you could practically hear your own blood pumping through your body. You definitely hadn’t expected such a direct question right off the start with her, but at least you’d get straight to the point.

“Are you?” You stare blankly back at Jessie, throwing her own question in her face. The two of you stand eye to eye, neither of you answering.

“What did I tell you at the bar yesterday?” Jessie finally says.

Squinting at her you’re not sure if it’s a rhetorical question or if you should answer, you take the safer option and just reiterate what she told you drunkenly last night. “That you were, you still loved me, you were still in love with me, that you had been too scared to tell me.”

“Then there’s your answer.” Jessie says, as if you were supposed to have assumed that on your own.

The longer you stared at her face the more you felt your anger and frustration with her fade and replacing it was the overwhelming urge to complete her request from last night, push her softly inside the door, kiss her against the wall, lift her into your arms and make the blind walk to her bedroom that you knew so well, take her to bed, make her yours again. Easier said than done and you knew taking her to bed would just complicate the already confusing situation the two of you were in.

“Then you know my answer too Jess.” The nickname slips out of your mouth, it wasn’t something you had called her in a long time. “I don’t know how to prove it, but please just trust me, nothing happened between me and that girl, nothing, Jessie I love you too much to do that.”

Bringing her hand up, she lets her fingers run through her hair before she pulls at the bottom of her sleep shirt. She releases a sigh and looks at the ground.

“So what does that mean for us?” She looks up at you, her brown eyes have a small glisten to them from the moon above both of your heads. You missed her eyes. You missed how she’d wink at you across a crowded room and your stomach would flutter, how she’d look up at you when you came to the side of the pitch to say hello after a game, how she’d steal glances at you when you sat snuggled into the couch. Those eyes made you feel seen in a way no one had before.

“What do you think it means?” You knew what you wanted it to mean, but you didn’t know if she felt the same.

“God some things never change do they?” Jessie fights back a smile as she looks at you with a small shake of her head.

“What does that mean?” You feel yourself starting to get defensive, your tone changing.

“You, the indecisiveness, you could never make choices when we were together. You could never pick a movie, never could pick a board game to play, never pick a restaurant, you never wanted to be the one to make the call, you could never pick anything.”

“I picked you Jessie. And I’d still pick you, everyday.” That was the truth, that was what you had been trying to say to her all along. She was your person, she was it for you, you just hoped she’d feel the same.

“If you’re actually choosing me then do it, pick me and tell me what you want to do, don’t put this on me, make a damn decision for once.” Jessie’s tone had shifted, less angry, less frustrated, it was soft and almost needy as if she was begging you.

“I’m not saying we're dating or that we even go on dates, or hook up, or anything. I’m also not saying we will ever go back to dating, we didn’t work the first time, who’s to say we would now, but I want to try, with you because I still love you, I’ve never stopped loving you. So maybe we start with removing that no contact plan we had? We talk again, we text again, you know, baby steps?” You feel yourself hold your breath when you finish speaking, as if you’re scared you’ve made a poor choice, that she’ll be mad at your proposal.

“Baby steps.” She gives a slow nod of her head, looking you up and down. “Okay, yeah, we can do that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, I’ll uh, I’ll text you then.” You can feel the happiness blossoming in your chest.

“Sounds good, get home safe.” Jessie says before turning back to her door. You practically skip down the stairs and down the street all the way back to your home, feeling elated that you might have a chance to finally fix what you had broken months ago.

Jessie turned back, resting against the door, eyes closed. She perked up at the sound of footsteps coming in her direction, straightening up and blinking her eyes quickly as she made out the figure coming toward her.

“You alright? Who was that?” Jessie’s eyes fell on the dark haired girl standing in front of her who was wearing her old grey UCLA shirt that she had always let you borrow and a pair of her boxers. Jessie didn’t know her well, she hardly remembered her name as she stood looking at the woman. The dark red hickey that she had sucked into the unknown girl’s neck just hours ago was peeking out of the collar. Jessie knew there were a lot more hiding under her shirt as well. A wave of guilt flashed through her body, she had just been trying to get even. She hadn’t realized she’d woken her by leaving the bed, she had barely heard the knocking on the door.

Jessie shook her head at the girl. “No one. Wrong house number. You can go back to bed, I’ll be there in a second.”

[kiame-sama]

Humans Are Extinct- (Yandere!TWST x Fem!Reader) Monster AU pt 4

(Since my computer died, I will use some of the other monster AU art I haven't used in a chapter yet instead. Hopefully I can rustle up another computer soon or get Ol' Peepaw Sammy (my 10+ year old laptop) to run my drawing software without having a heart-attack.)

Warnings: collaring, aggressive kindness, yanderes are rampant in this story, invasion of privacy, romantic yanderes, platonic yanderes, monster AU, some history for the monster AU, mention of Humans being eaten, Teachers and Crowley are going to have a ROUGH time, more characters being introduced, reader insert, fem reader, Driders, Crows, Minotaurs, Shadow-men, Selkies, Dragons, Fae, Bats, Harpies, Unicorns, Nemean Lions, Grim is less boisterous/confident in this AU given his rough life but he is still the sassy and clueless kitty-creature we all love, reader is called several affectionate pet names by platonic yanderes (Pup/Cub/Chick)

~~~~~~~~

"So... What happened here?"

You cuddled your new monster friend close to you as you looked upon the building you had been carried to by Rook. He had been swift to return you and the cat-monster you befriended to the building the supposed teachers had been leading you towards. Even as you sat on the large spider's back and stared up at the building, you could see the apparent change that had overcome it.

It mostly looked the same as it had when you had run away from it, but there were several improvements and adjustments that had been made in the short time you were away. Where the windows had been boarded up, they were now all clean and fixed. Where the siding of the building had been in obvious disrepair and even falling off in some places, it now looked like it had received a needed bit of care and reconstruction.

"I can answer that!"

You let out a yelp at the sudden interjection, unconsciously reaching out to Rook's torso and clinging to the spider-man in fear. The way you yelped made your sudden visitor giggle in amusement at your behavior. Hanging from what appeared to be a dead tree branch above you was that same pink and black haired guy that had been in the Dragon's nest with you. He had an impish smile as he regarded you, that smile slipping ever so slightly as his eyes flicked over you and how tightly you held to Rook.

Rook was actually both amused and felt endeared by the fact that you grabbed onto him in a bid for protection from the Drider. It was so very sweet to him to see he had earned some goodwill and trust from you by rescuing you from the Undying Ursus Minor. Even when you relaxed upon realizing who was speaking, you very clearly held tightly to your soft companion, Grim.

"Oh? Did you make a friend out in the forest?"

The Bat Fae dropped from the branch, righting himself before he even hit the ground as he approached your little group. He took a long moment to look at Grim before he gained a kind of impish smile.

"I'll have to inform Malleus about your new charge. We wouldn't want this little one getting burned to a crisp by Malleus. Besides, I know how protective and adoring Children of Man can be when it comes to their cherished companions. The last human I met died for their companions."

Grim seemed unsettled by the Bat's presence and you could feel the way his torn wings seemed to pull closer to his body. Maybe it was the fact that the Bat had wings that were a lot like Grim's, and maybe it was the fact that this newcomer had been so keen to startle you. Regardless, you felt a strong need to protect your new friend as he was the only one who didn't seem to have some kind of twisted agenda planned for you.

"Anyway, Malleus and the other Housewardens showed up after you ran away- not a wise move, might I add- so several of them decided you should be somewhere safer than an old run-down building. Malleus did most of the fixing, but it seemed even Schoenheit was keen to make several additions to your accommodations. They're still mostly here, Malleus went back to his nest to give you some space."

You carefully slid off of the back of the large Spider man, noticing the unusual softness of his fur along the back of his Spider body. There was a kind of intimidation you felt now that you were back on level ground, as the height of Rook's Spider back did make you feel somewhat safer. Now you were on level ground and felt very small next to the blond who towered over you.

In some ways, you wanted to question the unusual Bat, but it quickly became clear you were not going to get that chance as the more adult-appearing men approached. The Crow was in the lead and was flanked by four others that seemed to be older than the monster men you had encountered en masse when you first entered this twisted nightmare land. Two of the men you recognized as the two who came with the Crow to retrieve you from the odd Dragon that had claimed you. The other two were unfamiliar to you, but no less beastly than the first.

One of them seemed to be an older man somewhere in his fifties with gray hair and clear creases along his brow and mouth. Attached where his lower half should have been was the body of some kind of big cat, a pair of oddly large wings sprouted along the shoulders of the cat body and the lower back of the man. He almost seemed to walk with a slight limp as his back leg had clearly suffered some kind of damage in the past.

The second newcomer was a man that seemed to be wreathed in shadows. All you could really make out from the darkness was the skeletal white mask adorning his face, lining up on the same place his own skull would be. His bright purple eyes pierced through the darkness and gleamed like gemstones beneath the brim of his top hat. He seemed younger than the others, but you found it difficult to accurately gauge his age due to the shadows that wrapped around him.

"Now that you're done racing off with no regard to your own health, foolish little chick, it seems I must have a lengthy conversation with you regarding the dangers that are ever present to someone as magically lacking as you."

~~~~~~~~

Several Housewardens and even a few Vice-Housewardens gathered nearby the Ramshackle building and watched the interaction curiously. It was true many had all pitched in to make the decrepit building a bit more liveable for you, but it was nowhere near the level of quality they believed an extinct species should have. They did what they could in the short amount of time they had, busying themselves with the project instead of charging headlong into the forest like many wanted to.

Rook and Lilia had excused themselves from the stern lecture the Crow was giving, opting instead to retreat to the nearby group. Many of those present took interest in Rook, as they could detect the scent he now carried due to carrying the fragile Human back to the safety of campus. A few even tried to take a subtle sniff of the Drider in an attempt to catch more of that uniquely Human smell.

"Roi du Poison, your faithful Huntsman has returned victorious with the little Human completely safe and sound!"

Rook was quick to take his place next to the peacock Harpy, practically beaming from the joy of another successful hunt. For all the beautiful muses Rook had claimed, he was closest with his muse Vil Schoenheit as the peacock Harpy had been one of the primary driving forces in Rook's life. From learning to care for his own appearance to taking care of Vil's pin feathers, he had few he could thank half as much as Vil.

Vil gave the slightest of smiles at having his second in command back by his side, his feathers ever so slightly rousing and fluffing out to show the Harpy was pleased. For all the eccentric behavior his Vice-Housewarden showed, Rook was nigh irreplaceable to Vil. Just knowing Rook had been the one to rescue the little Human was also another source of pride for Vil as it was another source of envy from the others.

"At least Rook can be trusted to bring the Human back promptly. I doubt the same would have been said of you, Leona."

The Nemian Lion was standing away from the group, but the clear way his ears angled back showed he was annoyed. Leona knew he wasn't trusted around the Human without supervision. He and anyone else from Sunset Savana would have to prove themselves 'domestic' to even be considered.

It was Sunset Savana that continued to eat Humans the longest and thus had been branded by the other Kingdoms and Queendoms as barbaric monsters. Leona didn't often pay attention in class- especially boring ass History- but even he knew the way Humans had been adored by so many others. Riddle went as far as not letting Leona out of his sight the second they arrived at the rundown excuse of a dorm. He knew the others wouldn't trust him around that fragile Human even with supervision.

"Piss off, Birdy."

Rook was not thrown by Vil's casual sniping towards Leona, the two proud Housewardens always seeming to be at odds. Instead, the Drider turned to the red-haired Unicorn with a pleasant smile.

"Roi du Règles, you will be pleased to know mon Trickster is Mademoiselle Trickster. You mentioned earlier you could sense her purity, non? That would make her a Human Maiden; the ideal boon companion for a Unicorn such as yourself!"

"Is she? Then it seems I must endeavor to even greater heights to protect her. No doubt the common rabble here will be eager to get at the only Human and only female on campus."

It was then a certain displeased yell split the air, originating from the Human in question. The shout unsettled the various students present and even managed to make Riddle almost rear from the sudden interjection.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!"

~~~~~~~~

You stared incredulously at Crowley, your hands resting over the collar that now sat securely on your neck. Despite how you pulled and groped at the material, you couldn't find a way to unlock it and free yourself from the new and rather dehumanizing feeling of being collared. Even Grim got himself a matching Collar, though his looked more like a pristine bow. Both his collar and your collar had a little device hanging where the tags would be on a dog's collar.

"You've made it more than abundantly clear that you will wander away to areas that can be dangerous to your health if you are allowed to freely roam. I can't have you ending your life prematurely simply because you didn't have the sense to stay away from something dangerous. That collar of yours will make it much easier to dissuade you from going places you shouldn't."

Grim was still trying to wriggle out of his collar while you glared angrily at the overgrown Crow who put it there. You eventually had to stop Grim as the little cat-creature was beginning to thrash and could hurt himself if he wasn't careful. Luckily, the little beast soothed with your touch and stared up at you through his mismatched and scarred eyes. Even though you wanted to lay into Crowley for daring to put a collar on the two of you like you were some kind of pet, the man who had introduced himself as Divus Crewel spoke up.

"I know you don't like the collar, but try to think of it from our perspective, sweet pup. You aren't a normal sight here or anywhere in our world. If certain ne're-do-wells caught wind of a Human living on our campus, they may try to poach you if given the chance. We don't want to give them the chance."

You frowned angrily at the men but also somewhat understood where they were coming from on the matter. Though you really couldn't grasp the concept of Humans being extinct- given the fact you came from a world where Humans were the only truly sentient species- you did somewhat understand where they were coming from. Classifying an animal as endangered only made an increase in the demand for pieces of said animal. They were certain Humans were extinct, so you were more than just a prized commodity to collectors and hunters alike.

"How does the collar help against poaching? If someone wanted to get me with an arrow or a knife, a collar doesn't do anything to stop that."

"That is true in most cases, but your collar is enchanted. The collar keeps track of your location and will alert us as well as the Housewardens if anything does try to harm you. It can't stop a full attack, but it can deflect minor magic."

"Why did Grim get collared too?"

"Because, though I am loathe to let a beast of the forest stay with you, it is better you have some kind of magical protection with you. His skills are subpar compared to a Housewarden, but it is still more skill and magic than you have available to you. Best to keep track of the both of you."

Grim didn't fight his collar anymore, but he certainly didn't look happy as his little torn wings drooped and his ears angled downwards. He was clearly quite displeased but didn't seem too upset despite the fact he did not sign up for this kind of treatment. Once he resigned himself to the collar, he slightly perked up and raised his lopsided gaze to meet that of Crewel.

"Hey, seal-guy, does this mean I have to go to classes with my Hench-Hooman like a student and stuff?"

"It would be ideal to have (Y/n) attend classes, if only to keep her around professors and prevent the loneliness from negatively impacting her health. Humans were known to be a social creature, after all, and with no other Humans around the other students would be the next best thing."

"... So does that mean I can actually be a fancy-pants student and become the greatest mage to ever live?"

"Whatever keeps you by (Y/n)'s side. Though it may behoove us to enlist the aid of other students as well... They will have to prove themselves first, of course."

Crowley nodded along to Crewel's words as if they were the most obvious thing and you vaguely got the impression that the Crow really didn't realize what he was agreeing to. Though he was the Headmage- which to you meant he was the head of the school- he seemed far less aware of the situation as a whole and leaned on the other professors for that information. Something about him made you wonder why he was so eager to keep you on school grounds. It made you think back to his comment about the last human he met and you wondered if that had anything to do with how keen he was to keep you yet seemed keen to let the others take point in explaining things to you.

It was during this thought that the older looking man spoke, his voice aged and almost fatherly in how he spoke to you.

"Naturally, you are still the only true expert on Humans, being one yourself, so we will have to ultimately trust your judgement. I am of a mind with Divus that we should not be allowing a forest beast unrestricted access to you, but you seem to trust this Grim. Should you need something, you have but to ask us one of us. I also feel Mr. Rosehearts, Mr. Hunt, Mr. Draconia, and perhaps even a number of others would be keen to aid you. Don't ever go to Savanaclaw for aid. Though it may have been several hundred years ago, many of those from Sunset Savana and those of specific beastman lineages were instrumental in the extinction of Humans. Better to be safe than sorry with your safety."

He had been introduced to you as Mozus Trein, the History professor. Though you were curious as to why he seemed so fond of you, you figured it had something to do with you being Human and his natural love and fascination with history. You had to admit, it was nice that he didn't talk to or about you like you were a pet or some kind of exotic toy- an exotic animal, maybe, but not a pet. Most of the professors seemed to be of a similar mind- minus the Crow- and that somewhat helped put you at ease with them.

"So, does that mean it will only be Grim and I in here? No one else?"

"Well, the ghosts may pay you a visit and check in on you. Would you like someone to spend the evening here as well? I understand this is a new place and some company may put you at ease. It is my understanding that Mr. Draconia has already made a secondary nest in this dorm for you to use at your leisure, no doubt the others added beds or various furniture as well."

"No, I kind of like the fact that it's just me and Grim, I was just wondering because all of them are here," you gestured to the group of Housewardens and Vice-Housewardens nearby, "so I didn't know if they were staying or not. It is getting super late at night..."

"They should be returning to their dorms soon, though Housewardens and Vice-Housewardens are not bound by the same curfew as the other students."

He glanced at the others before back at you, a serious look of concern painting his features.

"Are you certain you would rather be alone tonight? Some wayward fools may try to enter the dorm when we leave."

The genuine concern in his expression and tone made you seriously consider his words. It was true that you didn't really feel very safe with anyone other than your small companion Grim, but the wizend professor did have a point. His prompting paired with the fact that you had made many poor choices for yourself this night did more to sway you than expected. You looked at the several monsters waiting nearby and had to conceed that someone keeping an eye out was not a bad idea given the already rocky start to your time in such a world.

"... I think you might have a point, actually..."

"How about this; you choose from the Housewardens and Vice-Housewardens who helped fix up this old dorm for you. Clearly they have at least shown they care for your wellbeing enough to put in an effort to make it livable. I will say now- however- should you choose Leona, I will choose someone else for you. I would love to say all our students are safe, but that just isn't the case and we can't take chances with you."

"That seems fair... But how do I know which one Leona is?"

"Leona is the Nemean Lion- ah, but I forget, you don't have Nemean Lions where you're from, do you?"

You shook your head. You could recall that there were Greek myths of Heraclies slaying a golden lion known as the Nemean Lion, but nothing like the monster men you have met.

"I will point him out when you decide who you feel is safest to stay with you."

"Okay. Grim, want to help me choose?"

The stout creature smiled eagerly in response to your question, holding up his front legs for you to pick him up. He was not like a cat in the sense that he was thrilled when you held him, but he did seem to enjoy your warmth and the fact he didn't have to walk when you carried him. As you cuddled Grim, professor Trein began to lead you to the group.

It was easy to feel somewhat safe with the older man and you kept close to his side as you two approached the group of fellow students. They all looked curious at the fact that you and the professor had approached them first. Perhaps you were going to thank them or ask them for something else to help you settle in.

"Listen up, you lot. I would hope others have enough common sense to leave (Y/n) here alone, but we all know that isn't going to happen. Since you are the ones that actually showed up to ensure our only Human is safe, it is safe to assume you care what happens to (Y/n). We feel it would be best to have either a Housewarden or a Vice-housewarden remain here for the evening in the event someone tries their luck."

Professor Trein then glanced back at you, nodding his head towards the group in clear invitation to approach. As you drew close, you couldn't help but take note of how all eyes quickly fell on you. Some of the people there were familiar to you, and some were not.

Rook was among the familiar, same with the Harpy that stood next to him. The only one whose name you recognized was Rook's as he had been the only one to actually introduce himself to you.

"... Can I choose Rook? He's the only name I know..."

"I would happily accept, Mademoiselle Trickster, but there is one far fairer and better than I at all but hunting. I suggest you choose Roi du Poison, the beautiful Vil Schoenheit."

The spider man made a sweeping arm motion to his side towards the Harpy, as if he were presenting the bird-man to you. The bird in question seemed surprised by the sudden introduction but took it in stride and instead turned his purple eyes to you. As you locked eyes with him, something odd happened. His feathers seemed to quiver before the feathers atop his head raised, his tail feathers doing the same to create an almost dazzling display of iridescent colors. He was clearly a peacock bird-man, but what didn't make much sense to you was why he was showing off for you. You didn't think you were really worth showing those feathers to since you weren't a bird like him.

"You are welcome to choose one as fair as me, little Human. I will ensure your safety to the furthest of my capabilities."

It almost seemed like the peacock were trying to make himself seem like the best choice, showing off colors and strength in an effort to have you choose him. If anything, you weren't the only one who was surprised at seeing such a display from the peacock. The others seemed almost shocked by this showing of feathers but someone was clearly far less than pleased upon seeing Vil posturing for you.

"Absolutely not! I refuse to allow anyone who does any kind of display dance for her to be permitted anywhere near her. I would have your head if you weren't my senior, Vil! Such a maiden should not be accosted by eager men who only see her as a breeding toy. Professor, I demand you override this choice and select me to guard this Human. I shall uphold every rule the Queen has set and I will not allow such tomfoolery to burden this Human."

Vil seemed angered by this as his feathers ruffled and stood on end, eyes glaring angrily at the offending Unicorn man. The wickedly sharp tallons on the ends of the bird's fingers seemed to only be sharper when displayed with such clear disdain for the Unicorn. It seemed like a fight was on the verge of erupting before Grim's voice interrupted them.

"I don't like any of them! Maybe the spider-drider-guy, but this is my Hooman which means I should choose who protects us!"

"Are you-? What the hell is a 'Hooman'? She is a Human, not 'Hooman' and I don't appreciate your casual disrespect for her species-!"

It was during the Unicorn's rant that you interrupted, feeling angry that the man would dare talk to Grim like that. Sure, you found it odd that the cat creature called you Hooman, but you certainly didn't mind it either. Even above all of that, Grim was your friend and these men were not.

"And who said it was your place to correct him? I know what I am and I think it's cute he calls me Hooman. What I don't appreciate is how you think you can yell at him! He can call me Hooman if he wants, you are not afforded the same privilege! And I have a name. It's (Y/n) (L/n), so don't you dare ever call me anything else."

Your sudden snapping at the Unicorn clearly surprised and unsettled him as he took several steps back, almost seeming like he was about to rear from your yelling. Even though his blue eyes stared in absolute surprise, you felt no need to back down and if anything you wanted to chase off the delicate Unicorn for daring to raise his voice at Grim. A light chuckle met your ears and drew your ire away from the Unicorn and to another familiar grinning face. It was the pink and black haired Bat.

"Keeheehee, seems she doesn't like you very much Riddle. Or, it could be that Humans are traditionally a pack-bonding species and little Grim is now her pack. Clearly Riddle isn't your choice, so who actually will be?"

You frowned at this question and went back to looking at the group, Grim seemed to be doing the same as he purred and snuggled down into your arms. From those you now knew, you still figured either the Bat or Rook would be best. It was then someone else caught your eye bringing you to a halt as you stared at them.

He had sun kissed skin and dark mahogany hair. Even as he stood in the light of the moon, he almost seemed to have a golden glow that wrapped around his scowling figure. When he noticed you looking at him, his bright green eyes narrowed ever so slightly before looking away from you. His actions were as if he were trying to dissuade you from picking him despite the fact he was among the group. You vaguely recognized him from the many who you first saw when you came tumbling out of the coffin.

"Choose someone else, Mousey. They won't let you pick me, I might gobble you up."

"I'm not a-"

"Yes, you are. You are a little Mousey herbivore of the only sentient species Nemean Lions dared to feast upon."

"Nemean...? You're Leona?"

"I'm surprised you even care enough to know my name. Leona Kingscholar, second prince of Sunset Savana and Housewarden of Savanaclaw. Careful, Mousey, you aren't safe around me. I may not have tasted Human before, but I'm willing to break several laws to give it a try."

He almost seemed like he was trying to actually get you away from him, a look of vague sadness hiding behind his smouldering emerald eyes even as he glared at you. There was more to this tale than he was telling but you knew he wasn't going to give you the information you wanted. With another long look at the golden Lion, you turned you gaze back to the group as a whole.

"I guess... Since the Dragon- Malleus, if I'm remembering properly- isn't here, I'll pick the Bat."

"Aww, I'll be sure to let Malleus know you wanted to pick him. I'm sure he'll be pleased. I can keep an eye on you and make sure those other whippersnappers don't come sniffing around. Keeheehee, cute that you call me Bat, but I also have a name if you feel like using it. Lilia Vanrouge, at your esteemed service, (Y/n). Malleus is my primary ward, but he certainly wouldn't be too displeased if I kept an eye on his hoard as well."

You nodded, wondering just why the Dragon decided you were one of his but not willing to question Lilia as to the true motives just yet. It almost seemed like those present fixed Lilia with a jealous sneer as the Bat happily joined your side. Trein simply nodded, accepting your choice as it was not Leona- whom he planned to berate for threatening you- and was a fairly safe choice. Lilia was of the few who had encountered a Human before in his many centuries, so no doubt he would be safe around you.

"It is decided then. I shall see you in my class tomorrow, (Y/n). Do not hesitate to reach out to me should you need anything. Your other professors and I will be working on getting you a phone to communicate with us faster. For now, sleep well, little cub."

[cheriladycl01]

Crash into my life - Lance Stroll x Civil Servent! Reader

Plot: You work in a fancy government job, pretty boring 9-5 but Lance Stroll and his insurance claim makes your job that little bit better

Your job wasn’t exactly fun, wasn’t exactly boring. It was one of those jobs that you’d got it at a young age and worked your way up through the ranks as you’d got better and better and because it was safe and something you were good at you stuck with it.

To keep it short and sweet you were a civil servant. Not like 007 kind of crazy stuff but you did work for MI6 in their fraud, tax and insurance department.

You basically took over insurance claims that were over a certain threshold and had to go through the government for … whatever reason whether they are a foreign National claiming in the UK or something.

Usually it was boring matters such as Chelsea Football Club claiming compensation for things as simple as water damages etc. You didn’t even really get to see anyone, you had the data and you analysed it against the scenario and hey presto you made your pay out.

Your favourite time of the year was winter. More claims came through and life was more unpredictable thanks to the whether. Delayed train into London St Pancreas? No tubes working so you have to make the 20 minute walk to your office building from the station. Slipping on ice, it was the only excitement you got in life which was honestly kind of sad.

For you it started at as a normal Monday. You woke up at 7am, brushed your teeth, got into a nice corporate appropriate outfit, got on the train, got a coffee from Pret before heading into your building.

That was your routine, and you didn’t often differ from it unless you had holiday booked. But working a 9-5 Monday - Friday often meant that you

But it felt like there was a different buzz today around the building like there was something going on.

When you all went into the morning briefing for the cases you’d get today, everyone was way too excited for 9am and the start of the day. You sat down next to your office buddy Shiv and looked around confused.

“What in earth is going on with everyone?” You ask looking over at Shiv who’s typing away on her laptop taking in information.

“Apparently there’s some really interesting cases to work on up for grabs today” she explains and you nod knowing once every blue moon some exciting things would crop up and have the whole office acting like kids on Christmas.

You’re all still waiting for the department boss to come in, joining in conversations about what could possibly be happening today.

“Ladies and Gents please take a seat for the meeting to commence. Thank you. Thank you” he offers smiling and everyone gets comfy.

“So we’ve got some exciting stuff today. I’ve formed a team to deal with the Train Networks Claim, that’ll be Shiv, Brayden and Ravi” he says and they all nod writing in their pads what tasks they’d have to do today.

He went through all of them apart from you, before dismissing the meeting. You were slightly confused and therefore packed up yours things a little slower than everyone else to see if you could stay behind and ask why you hadn’t been given an assignment.

“Y/N could you stay behind so I can talk to you for a moment” he asks and you nod, going to the end of the long conference table where he was stood.

“I like you, you’re young and learn quickly and I want you to progress more than you already have so I’m giving you a really important case. You’ll actually get to meet the said person affected, he’s … of high value so be considerate of your wording when talking to him. Alright thank you, here’s the case! Have a report to me by Friday” he offers and you nod happily. You take a seat opening up the material seeing the name of the claimer immediately.

Lance Stroll

You read through the facts, apparently he crashed his Aston Martin driving down the M1 to get to Silverstone into some sort of government van.

After analysing some of the data yourself, a knock comes on your office door from one of the younger interns.

“Erm, Y/N there’s two men in suits here to see you?” She asks rather than tells you, it wasn’t common for people to come in and out of the building due to the confidentiality of the work conducted here.

“Send them in please, but before you do ask them if they want anything. Tea, Coffee, Water” you smile and go back to reading another report from a police officer who was on the scene of the accident.

You watch as two men walk into your office space. One looking younger maybe the same age as you and one looking significantly older which you assumed was the dad.

“Good morning” you smile lightly before going back to some data on your computer. They took a seat, patiently waiting for you to address them.

Lawrence, who you’d just read about in the report who was indeed the father, cleared his throat as if to get your attention.

“Give me one minute Mr Stroll and I’ll be right with you” you smile, still nose in your computer.

“We’ve come all this way to the city centre to see you it would be appreciated if you didn’t waste our time” he huffs and even just from this reaction a bubbling of excitement started in you, just at the promise of actually seeing a client and talking to them in the flesh.

“I understand that, but I won’t be able to tell you much unless I see all the data” you say looking up at them through your glasses. This time you notice Lance and how he’s just sort of staring at you.

“Can I help you Mr Stroll?” You ask looking over him.

“No, I’m all good. Take your time” he smiles and you nod. In 5 minutes you believe you’ve combed through enough data to talk to them.

“This is awfully interesting I almost never get to see the people behind the claim” you smile happily and they both nod.

“Okay so so far from what I can see is there was a crash in your vintage Aston Martin that was for an event at Silverstone, the race track and that you got into a collision with a government van trailing a foreign national?” You ask.

“In short terms, yes … but” Lawrence tries to declare.

“And you weren’t present Mr Stroll” you say looking in the direction of the older man.

“No I wasn’t” he huffs out.

“Okay, then I will ask you to just step out my office while I get an account of the events from your son, if that’s alright with you. Just down the corridor there’s a waiting room there, help yourself to the food and drink in there” you smile hoping to butter him up a little to get him out.

“Alright” he says before taking his leave.

“Okay Mr Stroll lets…” you start but he interrupts you.

“Lance, please just call me Lance” he offers and you nod.

“Well Lance, it’s not … looking great” you start of slowly and he looks at you shocked.

“What do you mean? Your guys went into me?” He says raising his voice slightly and you give him a stern look that has him sinking into his seat.

“Don’t come into my office and raise your voice when I’m doing my best to help you!” You exclaim placing a pad in front of him.

“Sorry it’s just that my dad isn’t happy already that i totalled a car that was needed for race day” he sighs rubbing his temples.

“Ahhh so you’re an F1 driver. Or is it NASCAR because of the accent?” You ask and he looks shocked as if you were supposed to know who he was.

“Er F1” he offers and you nod.

“You any good?” You ask writing done some more notes as you watch the camera on the government vehicle as Lance’s car didn’t have one.

“Excuse me?” He chokes out and you couldn’t help but laugh a little.

“Well I mean im currently looking at your claims for a super car that you totalled and so I can’t help but ask if your any good” you tease and once he heard the tone he gets it and just rolls his eyes.

“Oh haha laugh it up” he says and you do.

“Im sorry but this is quite possibly the most fun I’ve ever had in this job. It’s rather boring most days so I’m just making the most of it” you smile and he smiles back.

“Okay I can see that they did in fact turn into you. And of course I’m here for the people. The issue is where your Canadian. I can pay out what the car was worth when you originally brought it, but 50,000 for the fact that it was an accident on our part” you say and he thinks for a moment.

“No” is all he says and you look over at him in shock.

“Sorry? What do you mean no, no is my final decision” you say crossing your arms.

“I would like to add something else to the 50,000 on top of the car value” he smiles and you nod, wondering what it could possibly be and admiring the boldness of his statement.

“Id like to take you out to dinner” he smirks and your head shoots up from your laptop.

“I- i cant do that… it’s not professional. I could get told off. I could loose my job.” you admit knowing that if people were to find out about your payout and think it was bad then they’d be asking questions to you.

“Oh come on it’s just dinner to say thank you for being so … helpful” he smiles leaning forward in his seat and you shake your head.

“Fine, dinner it is” you smile.

That was the start of something way bigger than just dinner.

y/user

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y/user: Work has been rather interesting lately 👀🏎️

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lance_stroll: thank you for having another look for me 👍🏼

-> y/user: 🫣you’re welcome Mr Stroll

-> lance_stroll: you’re making me feel old ☹️

user: is that whose car I think it is bestie?

-> y/user: it sure is 🏎️

user: need to catch up soon babe, Pret tomorrow morning?

-> y/user: sure thing!

user: Civil Service < Serving Cu*t 🥰

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Back in the Office wiv Shiv 🌸

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[itneverendshere]

pogue reader getting sick but she can’t call out, but rafes fr mad at you about it

don't want less, don't want more - r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe)

changed it a bit just bc i want to show reader's progress regarding her hyper-independence, they're already dating and past the "i love you" phase, i felt like some progress had to be made by this point, especially bc this is after their big fight in this. hope you enjoy <3

The floor beneath you feels like it's tilting, moving under your feet like a boat rocking on rough water. You blink a couple of times, hoping that’ll shake the haze taking over your vision, but it doesn’t do much. 

The bar lights over your head are too bright, and the music thumping from the speakers makes your head feel like it’s trapped in a vice. The clink of glass, every laugh, every order shouted at you feels like a hammer driving nails straight into your skull.

You swallow hard, trying not to gag. Your throat’s raw, and your chest feels tight, but you’re powering through it because you don’t have much of a choice. Not a choice at all.

"Whiskey sour, extra sour!" some country club douchebag yells from the other side of the bar.

His voice is like nails on a chalkboard. You force a smile and nod, reaching for the bottle, but your hands are shaky. You catch yourself on the edge of the bar before you can drop it.

This morning, you could barely get out of bed. Fever burning through you like you were standing too close to a bonfire, throat too sore to talk, and your head pounding so hard you thought you were going to pass out just brushing your teeth. 

You tried calling in. Tried. Told your manager, Greg, that you were sick as hell, couldn’t make it, but the guy just grunted like he always does. "Can’t afford anyone calling out today," he said. Like the world was going to end if you didn’t show up to sling drinks for a bunch of rich assholes.

So here you are.

You rub the back of your neck, trying to loosen up some of the tension building there, but it doesn’t help. Nothing really does at this point.

"Hey!" The guy who ordered the whiskey sour snaps his fingers in your face. "You deaf or something? Whiskey. Sour."

"Got it," You mutter, trying not to let your voice crack as you finally pour his drink. 

Your vision swims a little as you set it down in front of him, and for a second, you think you might actually faint right here at the bar.

That’d be something. Faceplant into a bunch of overpriced cocktails in front of half of the Kooks on this island. Greg would probably just step over you and ask you to get back to work.

You lean against the bar for a second. Your stomach rolls, threatening to revolt, but you choke it back. You can’t afford to be sick here. Not when you’re already in trouble with your manager for barely making it on time. You think back to the half-assed breakfast you tried to eat—if you can call a slice of toast breakfast—and how your stomach rejected it like poison.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spot Rafe coming in. And suddenly, you’re even more aware of how wrecked you are.

You know he still struggles with how independent you are sometimes. You’ve always been the kind of girl who handles things on her own, and Rafe has this tendency to think that means you don’t need him.

Today, though? You need him more than ever, but you couldn’t bring yourself to call for help.

You immediately know it’s gonna be a thing.

His eyes lock onto you from across the bar, and even through the fog in your head, you can see that look on his face. He’s pissed. Of course, he’s pissed. His jaw’s clenched like he’s biting back whatever rant he’s about to drop on you, and you can already feel the tension creeping up your neck.

Great, as if you didn’t feel bad enough already.

You try to stand a little straighter, look a little less like you're one second from collapsing, but your legs are jelly, and the room’s still spinning like you’re on some messed-up carnival ride.

You don’t want him to see how bad you’re hurting right now. But today? You’re too out of it to even try and explain.

He strides up to the bar, looking sharp, as usual. Meanwhile, you probably look like death warmed over. His eyes are scanning you, taking in the pale face, the way you’re gripping the edge of the bar like you’re about to keel over. You see his lips tighten, and yeah, he’s definitely about to lay into you.

“You didn’t call,” he says, voice low but definitely annoyed. He leans in, trying to keep this between just the two of you, but with how loud the bar is, it still feels like a confrontation.

“I’m fine,” you lie, forcing a smile that probably looks more like a grimace. 

Rafe’s eyes narrow. He’s not buying it. “You look like you’re about to pass out. Why didn’t you call me?”

You hate that you feel guilty.

“Because I’m handling it,” you say, voice softer now. But even you can hear how weak you sound.

It’s not convincing. Hell, you’re not even convinced.

He crosses his arms, looking down at you like you’re a puzzle he can’t figure out. “Handling it? Baby, you can barely stand.”

You let out a sigh, trying not to let it turn into a cough.

"I’m fine," you repeat, but even you know it sounds pathetic at this point. Your head feels like it's full of cotton, you’re not sure if you’ll make it through the next few minutes, let alone your entire shift.

But pride’s a bitch.

Rafe just stands there, arms crossed, staring at you like he’s waiting for you to come clean. You can feel his frustration, but there’s something else, too. Worry. It’s in the way his eyes keep flicking over your face, how his fingers are tapping against his arm like he’s holding himself back from just scooping you up and carrying you out of here.

"I heard from Topper," he finally says, like he’s been holding that card in his back pocket. You blink, trying to keep up. "He saw you at the club earlier, said you didn’t look right."

Great. Freaking Topper. Of course, idiot couldn’t mind his own business. You can almost picture him, all dressed up in some preppy golf outfit, spotting you from across the course and making a note to text Rafe the second he saw something off.

Rafe’s still watching you, waiting for a reaction.

You open your mouth, trying to come up with some excuse, some way to brush it off, but your brain’s too foggy, and all you manage is a weak, "I was fine then."

He raises an eyebrow. "Yeah? 'Cause Top said you looked like you were about to hurl on the 9th hole." He’s trying to keep his voice low, but you can tell he’s annoyed. Not at Topper, not even really at you—just at the whole situation.

You want to snap back, tell him you’re fine, that you’ve got it under control. But instead, all that comes out is another tired sigh. “Greg wouldn’t let me call out. Said they needed me.”

“You serious?”

“Dead-serious.”

Rafe’s jaw clenches so tight you think you hear his teeth grind. His hands come out of his pockets, flexing like he’s about to hit something—or someone. He runs a hand through his hair like he’s trying to calm himself down before he says something he’ll regret.

But you know him—he’s never been great at holding back when he’s pissed. And right now? He’s definitely pissed.

“Greg said that?” His voice is low, but there’s this dangerous edge to it, like he’s two seconds away from losing it, “You should’ve called me. I would’ve come down here, I would’ve—”

“I know.” You cut him off because you do know.

He would’ve dropped everything and come running. That’s exactly why you didn’t call. You didn’t want to be the a burden again. Like you said, you’re still working on yourself.

Rafe leans against the bar, his whole body radiating this intensity that makes you feel both comforted and nervous.

“So, let me get this straight,” he says, voice louder now, not even bothering to keep it low-key anymore. “You’re sick as hell, and that asshole wouldn’t let you stay home?”

You wince. He’s drawing attention now, people at the bar starting to glance over. You hate seeing him like this, but you don’t have the energy to smooth things over.

“Rafe, please—” you start, but he cuts you off.

“No, seriously. What kind of fucking manager forces someone to come in when they’re this sick?” His voice carries, and a couple of the other bartenders are giving you looks, like they can’t decide if they’re more surprised or impressed by Rafe’s audacity, "You’re killing yourself for this job, and he doesn’t give a fuck.”

You glance toward the back, hoping Greg’s still in the office and not witnessing this meltdown. The last thing you need right now is more heat from him. But of course, your luck sucks, because just as Rafe’s ramping up, Greg strides out from the back, clipboard in hand, that same stupid scowl on his face like he’s already annoyed at everything.

Rafe spots him instantly, and if you thought he was mad before, now he’s on a whole other level.

"Greg!" Rafe calls out, loud enough that half the bar turns to look. Your stomach sinks. This is about to get ugly.

Greg stops dead in his tracks, his eyes flicking to Rafe and then back to you. He knows. He knows exactly what’s about to happen, and he’s already losing the upper hand.

“Yeah, Rafe?” Greg’s voice is weak, almost shaky. Like he’s trying to keep it together, but he knows he’s got no chance. Rafe’s family literally owns half the island—Greg’s just some middle manager with too much attitude.

Your boyfriend steps forward, slow and deliberate, closing the space between them like he’s already won this thing.

“You made her come in today?” His voice is calm, but it’s that scary kind of calm that’s worse than yelling. The kind that makes your stomach drop because you know the person holding it together is barely holding back.

Greg opens his mouth to respond, but all that comes out is this pathetic mumble. “We… we were short-staffed.”

Rafe raises an eyebrow, his lips pulling into this cold, humorless smile. “Short-staffed?” He glances at you, and you feel the heat rising in your cheeks. You really didn’t want this to turn into a scene, but here you are. “You see how she looks right now? You made her come in like this?”

Greg’s eyes flick back and forth between you and Rafe, and you can see the panic starting to set in. He’s sweating now, probably realizing that this little power trip he’s on is about to bite him in the ass. “She didn’t… uh… say she couldn’t work…”

“She told you she was sick,” Rafe cuts him off, voice like steel. “You’re the manager, right? Thought that meant taking care of your staff. Guess I was wrong.”

Greg’s mouth opens and closes like he’s trying to think of something to say, but nothing’s coming. He looks like a deer caught in headlights, knowing any move he makes right now could get him fired. Hell, maybe even blacklisted from every job on the island. The Cameron’s have that kind of pull.

“I-I didn’t realize how bad it was,” Greg finally stammers, but even he doesn’t sound convinced by his own excuse.

Rafe takes another step forward, practically towering over Greg now. “You didn’t realize?” He laughs, but there’s no warmth in it. “Look at her, man. How could you not realize?”

You wince as the room seems to get quieter, everyone watching this power struggle unfold. You’d rather be anywhere but here right now, but you also know that Rafe’s not letting this slide.

Greg takes a step back, wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. 

“I-I was just trying to keep things running. We… we were slammed.”

Rafe’s smile drops, and now it’s just pure ice. “You think that’s a good enough reason to put my girlfriend’s health at risk?”

Greg looks like he’s about to pass out himself at this point, but he manages to mutter, “No… no, I—I didn’t mean…”

“Here’s the deal, Greg,” Rafe says, voice low but dangerous. “You’re gonna back off. Let her finish this shift if she wants. If she doesn’t? She’s out, no questions asked. And next time, when she says she’s sick, you listen.”

Greg nods so fast it’s like his head’s on a swivel. “Of course, of course, Rafe. I didn’t mean any disrespect. I just—”

“Good,” Rafe interrupts, already turning away like he’s done with this conversation. “Glad we’re on the same page.”

Greg just stands there, wide-eyed and frozen, clearly too scared to even argue. He stammers some half-hearted apology, but Rafe’s already turning back to you, brushing the whole thing off like it was nothing.

You look up at him, still in shock at how quickly Greg folded. “You really didn’t need to do that.”

He shrugs, leaning back against the bar with that easy confidence he always has. “Yeah, I did,” he says, his tone softening now that it’s just the two of you. “I’m not gonna let some nobody push you around like that.”

You sigh, feeling both relieved and slightly embarrassed. “You know he’s probably gonna hate me even more now.”

Rafe smirks, like that’s the least of his concerns. “Who cares? He won’t say a fuckin’ thing. Trust me.”

“Everyone’s going to say a thing, baby. They’re gonna think I have some kind of privilege because I’m dating you.”

Rafe’s smirk softens. He steps a little closer, lowering his voice so only you can hear him over the dull roar of the bar.

“Let them think whatever they want,” he says, his hand brushing against yours. “You’ve been busting your ass here long before I ever stepped in. Nobody can take that from you.”

You bite your lip, feeling everyone’s eyes on you, judgment and curiosity. He’s right in a way—you’ve been working extra hard. But still, it’s hard to ignore the feeling that now, everyone’s going to assume you’ve got some special treatment just because of Rafe’s name.

“It’s not about that,” you murmur, “I just—don’t want people thinking I can’t stand on my own. I don’t want to be the girl who hides behind her boyfriend’s power.”

Rafe tilts his head, studying you with that look he always gives when he knows you're holding back.

“You think that’s what this is?” His voice is steady, his tone a little softer now. “This wasn’t about power, baby. This was about someone treating you like you didn’t matter. And I’m not letting anyone—anyone—do that to you.”

He’s not wrong.

Greg didn’t give a damn about how sick you were, only about keeping the bar running, like you were replaceable. And you hate how right Rafe is, how much you needed someone to step in, even if it makes you feel a little helpless. You swallow hard, the tightness in your chest easing slightly, though your body still feels like it’s been run over by a truck.

“And you’re not working anymore today, or the next week for that matter. You’re gonna get your ass in my car and we’re going to the doctor.”

You nod, knowing there’s no arguing with Rafe when he’s like this, but part of you still feels guilty.

Not for needing help exactly, but for not being able to handle it all on your own. You've always been the girl who grits her teeth and gets through it, but today? Your body is screaming at you that you just can’t. Not anymore.

Rafe’s watching you closely, like he’s waiting for you to argue, but you don’t. You’re too drained. The adrenaline from the confrontation with Greg is wearing off, and now all you feel is this bone-deep exhaustion.

“I’m not going to a doctor,” you say, even though you know you probably should. “Just home. I just need to sleep.”

He narrows his eyes like he’s trying to read between the lines of what you’re saying, but then he just nods. “Fine. But if you’re not better by tomorrow, I’m dragging you to urgent care. No arguments.”

You give him a weak smile, trying to show you appreciate it even though you feel like crap.

“Deal.”

Without another word, he moves around the bar, ignoring Greg’s gawking and the way everyone’s still sneaking glances at you two. He gently takes the towel out of your hand, sets it on the counter, and slips an arm around your waist.

It’s the first time you’ve felt stable all day, leaning into him like you might actually make it to the car without collapsing.

“I don’t think I can afford an appointment.”

He looks at you like you’ve just said the most ridiculous thing in the world. His arm tightens around your waist, steadying you as you start to sway a little on your feet.

"Not worried about the money.”

You try to shake your head, but the movement makes you dizzy, and you stop, letting out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

"I just don’t want to be that person, you know? Relying on you for everything."

He gives you a side glance, eyebrows raised.

"Baby, you’re not relying on me for everything. You’re literally sick, and I’m not about to let you tough it out just because you’re too stubborn to ask for help. We’ve talked about this a million times.”

"I guess," you mumble, letting your head rest against his shoulder as you walk towards the door.

"No guessing about it," he says, softer now, his fingers brushing your arm in a way that makes you feel more grounded. "You’ve been holding down the fort for too long. Let me take care of you for once."

The air outside hits you like a slap, but Rafe keeps you close, leading you toward his car. Your legs are weak, the fever still simmering under your skin, but his body warmth keeps you upright.

"Thanks," you whisper, even though it feels weird to say. You’re not used to thanking people for basic care, but with Rafe, it feels different.

He pauses, opening the passenger door for you.

"You don’t gotta thank me, okay? I’m just doing what anyone who loves you would do."

Your heart skips at that. You’re still not used to how easily he says stuff like that, like it’s no big deal. But he’s rubbing off on you, because you can say it just as easily now.

“I love you too, sorry for being a pain in your ass.”

Rafe chuckles as he helps you into the car, leaning down to make sure you’re settled before he shuts the door. He bends down and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.

"You're always a pain in my ass," he murmurs against your skin, grinning as he pulls back just enough to look at you. "But you’re my pain in the ass, and that’s what matters."

You can’t help but roll your eyes, but there’s a smile tugging at your lips despite how wrecked you feel. The fever, the headache, the exhaustion—it all takes a backseat, at least for a moment. 

Knowing Rafe’s always got your back? That makes it a little easier to breathe.

[rcmclachlan]

Heard this was the place to come if we wanted to know about pregnant Buck talking to the baby about the station tasks 🤔

@dadvans is a dirty enabler. He's also the one who came up with the idea of Buck calling the kid "probie" fyi

+

When Tommy walks into the 118, it doesn't feel quite like a homecoming, but when Bobby catches sight of him and smiles as though Tommy's presence isn't just welcome, but expected, something inside him relaxes as though it were twenty years ago and he's about to walk up the stairs to sit down for another incredible family dinner. 

"You guys get called to the thing with the Aon?" Grinning, he shakes Bobby's proffered hand as a matter of course, and part of him can't help but glow under Bobby's approving gaze.

It feels a bit like he's cheating on Captain Salazar, who took Tommy under her wing the second he got to Harbor and has given him free rein to do whatever he damn well pleases when he's in the air, but she doesn't cultivate the familial aura that cleaves to Bobby like a shadow. He likes and respects the hell out of her, but he probably wouldn't steal a helicopter and fly into a hurricane for her.

Some people were meant to be parents; Bobby Nash is definitely one of them. Tommy's working on it. 

Bobby gives a sporting but ineffective swipe at the soot smeared across his forehead with his wrist. "Normally falling space junk knocking over a skyscraper would take the cake, but since twenty million bees weren't released into the city, I'm calling it a ho-hum sort of day."

There's something severely wrong with them that the third-tallest building in LA breaking in half like a Kit Kat Bar doesn't rank above bees, but Tommy had to fly through that shit storm, so he can't disagree. The next person who says 'bee-nado' is getting thrown off the Santa Monica pier.

Speaking of. Tommy throws a quick glance at the three engines parked in their usual spots in the hopes of catching a glimpse of movement, and he's either losing his touch or never had it to begin with, because he's clocked immediately.

Bobby gives him a knowing look.

Caught, Tommy chuckles. "At the risk of sounding patronizing, how much did he overdo it?"

"Buck didn't mind being on winch and hose duty," Bobby says wryly. At Tommy's dubious look, he adds, "Okay, he did try to sneak into the thick of it once or twice, but he complained only a little when I threatened to hogtie him and chuck him in the back of the ambulance."

"Only a little? That's unlike him." Tommy can perfectly picture the mulish pout on Evan's ridiculous lips because someone forbade him from running into a building that was hanging at a 240° angle. 

"Hen may have also hinted that she'd break out The Powerpoint again if he didn't stop whining," Bobby admits. The capital letters are audible.

Tommy gives a low whistle. "That was diabolical of her."

He unfortunately hadn't been there when Hen presented You're Living For Two: A Comprehensive List of Things Buck Will Avoid for the Next 8 Months or Hen Will Have Him Committed (With A Foreword Written By Maddie Han) to Evan and the rest of the 118, but Eddie had texted Tommy throughout the whole thing like he was live tweeting a football game. At slide 40, which had five charts demonstrating the rates at which acute physical stress increased the risks of miscarriage and low birth weight, Eddie sent him a picture of Evan's cowed expression. Slide 43 ("Deli Meat A No-No"), on the other hand, got him a video of Evan in a heated argument with Hen, Howie, and Bobby about the merits of that. 

It ended when Bobby shouted, "It's not just you that you're risking, Buck! Every time you deliberately put yourself into harm's way, you're also risking my grandchild!" and Evan burst into tears and sobbed, "You can't say things like that when you're taking hot dogs away from me!" 

When Evan came home that day, he announced that mentioning The PowerPoint—and anything to do with Microsoft in general—was verboten for the next thousand years. Tommy couldn't help but quip, "It looks like you're upset about your family wanting you to carry this pregnancy safely to term. Would you like help? Yes, no, or cancel?" 

He was forced to sleep on the couch for three nights. He regrets nothing.

"Where is everyone?" The station is eerily quiet for a day spent trying to get ahead of a falling building.

"Burrito run. Buck volunteered to stay behind. He still getting carsick in traffic?"

"Let's just say we've been putting the emesis bags Howie gave us to very good use. Is he busy?" Tommy lifts the bag in his hand so Bobby can see the grinning face of the Colonel himself. "I come bearing gifts."

Bobby laughs the laugh of a man who knows firsthand that Evan's insatiable cravings for KFC's mashed potatoes is the only thing keeping the lights on at the location on W Pico Boulevard. He gestures past Tommy toward the engines. "Last I saw him, he was giving a class on proper hose maintenance."

"Appreciate it, Bobby," he says and starts heading in that direction.

"Tell him he'd better not be promoting bad coupling habits." Tommy turns around, wide-eyed, but Bobby's already got a hand up to forestall the laughter he must know is inevitable. Bobby's grimacing so hard it looks like he might severe his carotid. "I regretted it the second I said it. Do me a favor and phrase it a little better?"

"I make no promises." Snickering, Tommy turns back to the engines and swings the KFC bag cheerfully as he goes, making a mental note to mention this in the OG 118 group chat. That ought to give Howie enough ammo to last through Christmas. 

As he rounds Engine 3, he hears the susurrus of voices, which he expected, but as he gets closer he realizes it's just one voice, which he didn't. He comes to a stop right where the engine's rear strip on the storage compartment ends and ducks behind it a little to try and figure out exactly what he's looking at.

Bobby had said Evan was teaching and Tommy figured that meant he was holding court with the station's two newest recruits, but he's kneeling on the floor and carefully re-rolling a hose while he talks to an audience of precisely zero.

"Now this is called a straight roll," Evan says, voice modulated to be slow and easily understood. It's textbook perfect pacing. Tommy has no clue who it's for. Maybe he's filming a video? "I'm folding the male coupling over and then rolling it to the female coupling, which are unnecessarily gendered terms, but I wasn't in the room when they came up with the names, so."

Tommy's so distracted by how the muscles in Evan's arms strain against the sleeves of his uniform as he methodically rolls the hose that he almost misses what Evan says next.

"Now Daddy wants to do a Dutch roll, because it takes about five seconds and it's hilarious, but Grandpa Bobby would slaughter Daddy if he ever found out. Apparently letting the couplings drag on the ground is the eighth deadly sin." Evan rests back on his shins and pants a little, then pats the planetary curve of his belly with a grin. "Hope you're taking notes, probie. There will be a test."

There are two things in Tommy's life that he will never be able to forget, even if he had a full-frontal lobotomy; even if he wanted to:

The first is the way Evan's shoulders curled inwards as if bracing for a blow while he haltingly apologized about goading Tommy into fucking him after the condom ripped, about how Tommy didn't have to worry because Evan was relieving him of all responsibility, and that he didn't have any expectations because Tommy never asked for this and he hoped someday Tommy would forgive him for keeping what they'd accidentally created together. 

Tommy isn't a violent man, but sometimes he fantasizes about going back through Evan's life and beating the shit out of everyone who ever made him feel unwanted, or treated him like a consolation prize. Even in the early days of their relationship, when Tommy's respect for certain boundaries or simple acts of kindness would make Evan visibly recalibrate, Tommy had to stop himself from demanding a list of names. He has one now, and part of him would like nothing more than to start with Evan's parents and work his way down.

The second is the teary, disbelieving grin that broke across Evan's face like a sunrise when the sonographer pressed the ultrasound wand to his belly and the room filled with the jackrabbiting whup-whup-whup sound of their kid's heartbeat. Evan had looked over at him, laughed wetly at the struck-dumb expression Tommy knew he was sporting, and said, "Sounds like the Bell 206." 

When he reached out for Tommy, the fluorescent lights had glinted off the engagement band Tommy'd bought like a complete lunatic four months after Evan kissed him in the lobby of First Presbyterian. He'd kept it hidden in his toolbox until three months later, when Evan put on a brave face and tried to let him off the hook. 

But he didn't have far to go, because Tommy was already reaching back for him. The metal of the ring was warm where it pressed against his fingers. And if his heart was so full of love and wonder that he cried a little, no one commented on it. Well, Evan did when they got in Tommy's truck after their appointment and then went straight to KFC, but that was to be expected. He'd taken the ribbing like a champ. 

Watching Evan—now in the second week of his third trimester, the hem of his shirt fighting for its life where it stretches around his belly—earnestly teaching the kid still cooking inside him about proper hose care, Tommy knows he'll never forget this one either. He's pretty sure his life is going to be one unforgettable moment after another from here on out.

Swallowing around the lump in his throat, he walks out from behind the engine and gets a hand under Evan's elbow to help him get to his feet. It takes every ounce of his willpower to stand back and let Evan carry the hose over to its compartment and attach it to the main connection site himself. He's learned to grit his teeth and give help only when it's asked for. He has no desire to start up that argument again.

"So?" Tommy happily takes Evan into his arms while Evan happily takes the KFC bag out of his hand. "Is our kid going to graduate from the Academy or wash out completely?"

Evan grins at him. Tommy knows at least 45% of the love in his eyes is reserved for the mashed potatoes. "I'm calling it now: they're gonna be fire chief by the time they're twenty. Youngest in the entire country. What do you think, Probie? You up for the challenge?"

Tommy places a hand gently on Evan's belly and immediately feels movement against his palm. Their kid hasn't given Evan a moment's peace since week 15; at any given moment, they're flipping around in there like they're doing zero-gravity training for a space mission. The familiar fluttering feeling makes his heart cramp. 

That's their kid in there. They made that.

"I think that's a yes," Tommy murmurs, pressing a kiss to Evan's temple, then hanging there for a moment, breathing him in. Breathing them in. "Love you."

"God, I love you so much, you don't even know," Evan says, cracking open a container with a pleased hum.

Tommy smiles dopily, then reality trickles in. "You're talking to the potatoes, aren't you?"

"Of course not," Evan lies through a mouthful of KFC's finest spuds.

[foreverisntenough]

‘Act II’

Summary: Attraction is like a gravitational pull that is undefinable and unavoidable. Unbeknownst to you, Jude had been keeping an eye on you since he caught a glimpse on his best friend’s girlfriend’s Instagram but he’s been loving his single life. You always were independent and know how to swim on your own but maybe you have been just treading water. Could the tides change on a holiday in Greece when you finally meet? It might get a little rocky but maybe you could be his paradise.

Index

Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series! ‘Act II’ is interconnected to the 'You’re Mine' and 'Ours' Series but can read it independently.

Chapter 7 - Madrid or Manhattan | ‘Act II’

word count - 11.2k

The following day, you couldn’t take the distance or the unknown any longer. That night had been a blur of bad decisions and misplaced anger, and now, with a mildly more clear head, you knew what you had to do. You needed to see Jude, to confront him, to figure out where you two stood. The thought of him with someone else, or worse, of him moving on from you, was unbearable. You had to know if there was anything left to salvage. You had acted out and you’d need to fix this or put it to bed. Once again, in a last ditch effort, without hesitation, you booked a flight back to Madrid, your heart racing as you imagined what might happen when you saw Jude again. If he had done it again—if he had been with someone else since your last conversation—you knew you would have to walk away for good. But deep down, you hoped that wasn’t the case. You hoped that Jude had been as miserable as you had, that he had spent every moment thinking of you. You didn’t tell him you were coming, you wanted him to not know in case he was with someone else. That’d be it for you. You were racking up flight miles. The environment was screaming at you but you took another flight anyway. When you arrived at Jude’s house, your nerves were frayed, your emotions teetering on the edge. The lack of sleep catching up to you. You didn’t bother with the formalities this time, just knocked on the door and waited, your heart pounding in your chest. When Jude opened the door, his surprise was evident, but there was something else in his eyes too—relief.

“Y/N,” he breathed, his voice a mix of surprise and something that sounded like hope. “You’re here.” Jude felt his heart beat slow down to a point where he wasn’t sure if you were really there or if he was imagining things.

“Yeah,” you replied, your voice wavering slightly. “I’m here.” You stood there for a moment, neither of you knowing what to say, until Jude stepped aside to let you in. The air between you was thick with unspoken words, the weight of everything that had happened pressing down on you.

“Looked like you’d been having fun lately. Saw the posts,” Jude admitted as you sat down on the same sage green couch that used to be a place of comfort until your relationship or whatever with him was shattered in a moment by him, the tension palpable. He didn’t mean to sound so passive and short but he was hurt. “I know what you were doing. And I hated every second of it.” You winced hearing him call you out layered with a bit of anger of your own too.

“Having fun?” Your eyes narrowed on him, annoyed he said that. “Whatever. That was the point,” you replied, not unkindly, but with a bitterness that lingered in your voice. “I was angry, Jude. I didn’t know how else to make you understand how much you hurt me.” And when you told Jude that you had slept with someone to spite him for doing the same, it hit him harder than he expected.

“I know I messed up,” Jude said, his voice thick with regret, tears building on his waterline. “I haven’t done anything but think about you since you left. I was so stupid, so insecure, and I let it get the best of me. But I haven’t been with anyone else, Y/N. I swear.” Jude took a deep breath. You studied his face, searching for any sign that he was lying, but all you saw was the same regret and pain you had been carrying. The anger you had been holding onto started to crumble, replaced by a deep, aching sadness.

“I have though…” You cried. A sight Jude hadn’t expected. He knew you were upset but he put it down to anger but sadness, a broken heart, he could barely look at you. He felt more sick than before knowing that he made you feel this way. He knew. You tried to take a deep breath but you were shaking. He knew you well enough to know how you’d respond to him hooking up with someone else. The divide between you was so vast you weren’t sure you’d ever be able to build a bridge. The jealousy and hurt twisted in his gut as he realized that the thought of you with anyone else was unbearable. To know you were in someone else’s bed made him sick. It had been building since he slept with another girl but as he heard it roll off your tongue, that was the moment Jude understood that what he felt for you went far beyond just liking you—he was in love with you. The idea of losing you, the girl he had uncontrollably and unintentionally fell in love with made him feel physically ill, bringing all his buried emotions to the surface. You sat on the edge of the couch as emotions flooded you once over, your face buried in your hands as you cried softly. The weight of everything that had happened between you two felt unbearable, like it was crushing you from the inside out. Jude stood up in front of you, his face loosing color and filled with a mixture of hurt and helplessness. He hadn’t said much since you admitted it—admitted that you’d slept with someone after you found out about him and the other girl. You hated it. Hated that you had hurt him, hated that you had hurt yourself in the process. But more than anything, you hated how much you still cared about him, how much you wanted him even now. “I don’t understand,” you choked out through your tears, your voice breaking. “I don’t understand why I like you so much, even after everything. I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t feel this way, but I do.”

“Hey,” he whispered, his voice soft but strained. “It’s okay. I know you’re hurting.” Jude knelt down in front of you, his hands gently cupping your face, his thumb brushing away your tears.

“I don’t want to be hurting!” you snapped, the frustration boiling over. “I hate this. I hate that I like you so much, Jude. I hate that even when I try to move on, you’re all I think about. You’re the only thing I’ve thought about since I left here. Just you all fucking day. I’ve done nothing else.” You whined. Jude winced, clearly pained by your words, but he didn’t pull away. He wasn’t sure how he felt that you were so distraught over the idea of liking and thinking of him the way you were.

“I know,” he said quietly. “I know it hurts. But you’re not alone. I feel the same.” He just stayed there, holding your face in his hands, his eyes searching yours. You shook your head, the tears coming harder now.

“But you don’t. You don’t know how much it hurts. You slept with someone else, I slept with someone else… How are we supposed to come back from that?” You cried. Jude took a deep breath, his hands dropping to your shoulders, steadying you.

“Because none of that matters to me anymore. What matters is that you’re here, with me. And I don’t want you to leave.” Jude hummed, holding onto you firmly. He leaned forward resting his forehead against yours, taking a deep breath.

“What are you saying?” You blinked at him, your heart aching at his words. Jude knew he should tell you why. Tell you how he really felt but those words couldn’t come out.

“I’m saying… I need you,” Jude whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. “I don’t know how to explain it, but I feel like I can’t do this without you. I don’t want to do this without you. You’re the only person who makes me feel like… like everything’s going to be okay. Even when it’s not.” He took another deep breath. Your chest tightened at his confession, and despite all the hurt, all the mistakes, a part of you wanted to believe him. A part of you needed to believe him. “Stay,” he said softly, his eyes pleading. “Stay in Madrid with me. With me tonight, whenever you want. Please. We’re both hurting, I know that. But you’re the only one who makes me feel better. Holding you is the only thing that’s going to make it better.” Jude thought he might start crying so he let his eyelids flutter close.

“What if it happens again, Jude? What if we hurt each other all over again?” You looked away, your heart racing, the fear creeping in.

“I don’t want to hurt you anymore. I swear. I just… I just want you. I need you.” He shook his head, his grip on you tightening. You felt yourself breaking down, the tears flowing again as you leaned into him. Jude wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest, holding you as if he was afraid to let go.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” you whispered. You clung to him, your sobs muffled against his shirt.

“You can,” Jude murmured into your hair. “I know you can. I know we can.” You stayed like that, wrapped in each other, both of you hurting but unwilling to let go. It wasn’t perfect, it wasn’t even close, but in that moment, the only thing that mattered was that you were together. You didn’t know what the future held, or if you could ever truly move past the pain, but you knew one thing for sure: you weren’t ready to walk away. Not yet.

“I was so scared, Jude,” you whispered, your voice breaking as the tears spilled over again. “I didn’t want to fall for you because I knew this would happen. I knew I’d get hurt. I knew this would happen.” You pouted with a quivering bottom lip.

“I’m so sorry, angel,” he murmured into your hair, his voice thick with emotion. Jude reached for you, pulling you into his arms, the tears soaking into his shirt. He held you close, his heart breaking as he felt just how deeply he had wounded you. “I never wanted to hurt you. I just… I didn’t know how to handle what I was feeling. But I want to make this right. I want you here, with me. I don’t want to lose you.” He whispered. You clung to him, the floodgates unable to close as you let out all the pain and fear you had been carrying. In that moment, in Jude’s arms, you felt a flicker of hope maybe you’d be able to rebuild what had been broken.

“I want to stay,” you whispered, your voice trembling with both fear and hope. “But I’m scared, Jude. I’m too scared of getting hurt again. You really hurt me.” You cried.

“I know,” he said softly. Jude held you tighter, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “But I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. We’ll figure this out together, I promise.” And for the first time since you fled Madrid, you let yourself believe that you could. You went to sleep in Jude’s room that night in an intense silence. The air was thick with tension, as if every unspoken word, every bottled emotion had made the room smaller, tighter, almost suffocating. You had come all this way to see if there was anything left to salvage between you and Jude, but now, lying next to him in bed, you weren’t sure. The silence between you was intense, almost unbearable, but the thought of letting go was more painful. His arms were wrapped around you, and you couldn’t tell where his body ended and yours began. You weren’t sure if it was humanly possible to be as close as you two were in his bed. Despite the space you tried to keep between your minds and hearts, your bodies refused to acknowledge it. It wasn’t the same as before though. There were no whispered kisses or soft laughter. This wasn’t passion, it was desperation—an instinctual need to be close, to hold on to the only thing that felt familiar in a world that was quickly unraveling. You both stayed still for a long time, as if moving or speaking would shatter whatever fragile thing was keeping you together. The warmth of his chest against your back was the only thing grounding you, and yet it felt distant, too. Occasionally, you could feel him shift, his breath shaky, a small sniffle escaping him. In the quiet, you realized he was crying too, though he tried to hide it, just like you were. Tears silently streamed down your face, soaking into the pillow beneath you and you were pretty sure some of them would drip onto his arm. You didn’t even bother wiping them away. You weren’t sure if he could feel them, or if he already knew, but part of you hoped he did. Maybe it would save you the trouble of trying to explain the heartbreak clawing at your chest. Every breath felt heavy, every second drawn out, weighted by the regret hanging between you. The things you hadn’t said. The feelings you hadn’t admitted. The mistakes you both made that had led you here—together but impossibly apart. The words ‘I love you’ hovered unspoken in the room, almost too big to say aloud, but they screamed in your mind. If you said them now, would it fix things? Or would it make them worse? You weren’t sure. There were moments where you thought you felt Jude shift closer, as if he was trying to gather the courage to say something, but he never did. The silence remained, only occasionally broken by your mutual sniffles or the rustle of sheets. You wanted to scream, to shake him, to demand he say something, anything, but instead, you just lay there, clinging to him as if letting go would break you entirely. Hours passed, but sleep didn’t come. How could it, with so much between you that still needed to be said? The weight of it all pressed down on you, making it hard to breathe, hard to think clearly. But even then, even through the pain and confusion, you couldn’t imagine being anywhere else but here, in this bed, with him. You didn’t know what the morning would bring—if you would still be holding each other or if the final goodbye was waiting on the other side of this silence—but for now, this was all you had. And even though it hurt, even though it felt like it might break you both, neither of you could let go.

That morning it was tense but Jude thought that if you flew here you must have craved the same thing he did. You wanted to close this distance. The morning air in Madrid was still cool, the early sun spilling into the room like a quiet reminder of everything left unsaid. You stood in the en-suite, your hands gripping the edge of the sink as you brushed your teeth, staring blankly at your reflection. It wasn’t just the exhaustion from travel, or even the tension that clung to the air like a suffocating fog—it was everything. Every decision, every misstep, and most of all, the pain that weighed down your chest like a heavy stone. When you finished, you walked back into the bedroom, the tension palpable in the silence between you and Jude. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, fiddling with his phone, his jaw set in a way that told you he was thinking too hard about what to say.

“Do you want breakfast?” Without looking up, he finally broke the silence, his voice quiet and almost too casual. It was an olive branch, awkward and uncertain, but it was something. You nodded, still feeling the weight of everything between you both as you glanced toward the balcony. The doors were open now, letting the morning breeze drift through. Jude had laid out breakfast on the small table outside—nothing too grand, just simple plates and chairs, but it was thoughtful. In that moment, despite everything, it was exactly what you needed.You stepped outside, the brightness of the Madrid sun almost blinding, and you gave Jude a sad smile. He followed, his movements slower, more deliberate, as if he was trying to figure out how to navigate the space between you. The small table sat between you both now, but it wasn’t the table or the breakfast that mattered—it was the unspoken words, the ghosts of last night, and the quiet ache that lingered in both of your hearts. You took a deep breath, the knot in your chest tightening as you realized you couldn’t dance around it any longer. You couldn’t pretend like it hadn’t happened, like you hadn’t both crossed a line you swore you wouldn’t. The words caught in your throat, but you forced them out, your voice soft and shaky.

“Jude,” you started, glancing down at the table before meeting his eyes. “I made a mistake. I shouldn’t have… I shouldn’t have done what I did, but all it’s done is made me realize—” Your voice cracked slightly, but you pushed forward. “There’s no one like you. No one.” The admission hung in the air between you both, heavy with meaning. Jude’s expression softened, but the pain was still there, written all over his face. He looked down at the table, then back at you, his jaw tightening as if he was trying to hold something back.

“I feel the same,” he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “What I did… I regret it. I wish I could take it back. I thought… I thought it would make it easier to forget everything, to just push it away. But it didn’t. It just made everything worse. Because it’s you—there’s no one else that’s you.” The honesty in his words hit you like a wave, but it didn’t wash away the hurt. The pain still lingered, heavy and raw, between you both. You nodded slowly, your throat tightening with the threat of tears, but you blinked them back. This wasn’t the time for tears. This was about trying to move forward, even if you didn’t know how. You looked at him, the sunlight casting soft shadows over his face, and you felt the weight of your heart in your chest.

“I think… I might be falling for you, Jude. And you don’t have to say anything back because this I know it’s probably stupid. It scares the hell out of me as well so….” You whispered. He didn’t move for a moment, his eyes searching yours as if he was trying to find the right words, to make sure you really meant yours. Then, slowly, he reached across the table, his fingers brushing against yours. The touch was tentative, but it was enough to ground you, to remind you that, despite everything, you were both still here.

“I’m falling for you too,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “And I’m so so sorry. I’m so sorry for hurting you.” The pain still lingered, gnawing at the edges of your heart, but for the first time in what felt like forever, there was a small flicker of hope. You both sat there, in the bright Madrid sun, the weight of your mistakes still heavy, but the possibility of something more—something real—finally starting to take shape. You weren’t sure if you could fully move past what had happened, but in that moment, with Jude’s hand resting on yours, you knew you couldn’t walk away either. Not yet. Not when there was still so much left to say, so much left to feel. The road ahead was uncertain, but for now, you had each other. And that, at least, was a start. Jude stood up from his chair, his eyes locked onto yours with a mix of regret and something deeper, something more raw. Breakfast was forgotten in an instant, the food sitting untouched as he closed the small space between you. “Come here,” he whispered, his voice soft but commanding, and before you could even think, he pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly against him. The warmth of his embrace was immediate, and despite everything that had happened, despite the pain, you melted into him. He swayed gently, the movement slow and comforting, as the Madrid sun drenched you both in its golden light. The air was thick with the scent of the morning and the faint sounds of the city below, but up here, in this moment, it was just the two of you. Nothing else mattered. You had told yourself there wasn’t time for tears, that crying wouldn’t help anything—but the moment his arms wrapped around you, it all came crashing down. You couldn’t hold back anymore. The tears started to fall, first in quiet, controlled sobs, but soon, they were unstoppable. Your face pressed into his chest, your fingers clutching his shirt as if letting go wasn’t an option. Jude felt the shift, the way your body shook with the weight of your tears, and he tightened his hold on you, pressing a kiss into your hair. “I’m here,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion, “I’m here… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He kept repeating it, over and over, the words flowing out of him like a mantra, as if saying it enough times might somehow erase the pain. But it wasn’t just about the apology—it was the way he held you, the way he swayed with you in his arms, as if you were the most fragile thing in the world, and he needed to keep you safe. Neither of you wanted to let go, neither of you could. The tears kept coming, your body trembling against him, but Jude didn’t move. He didn’t pull away, didn’t try to comfort you with empty words. He just held you, letting the weight of the moment sink in. You stayed like that for what felt like ages, swaying back and forth in the sunlight, the world around you fading into the background. Finally, your sobs began to quiet, though the tears still flowed. You buried your face deeper into his chest, his heartbeat steady against your ear, grounding you in a way nothing else could. His hand stroked your back, slow and gentle, like he was trying to soothe the ache that had settled between you both. It wasn’t a moment of resolution, but it was something. A step. And as you stood there, wrapped in his embrace, you realized that despite everything, neither of you were ready to let go. Not of each other, not of the possibility of what you could still be. And for now, that was enough.

The atmosphere between you and Jude was tense at a bar. Despite the emotional reconciliation, Jude seemed to just move on after that. He was sweet to you of course but it kind of bothered you that he was acting as if everything was just as before. Just as before where Jude was primary, you were in secondary when it came to life in Madrid. Just as before where clarification about your relationship wasn’t needed. Jude could talk to the girls who wanted a photo but the second you took a step closer to lean over the bar towards the male bartender Jude’s eyes lit with fear and unfortunately a bit of possessiveness and annoyance. The feeling of your indiscretions still weighing on you both. The neon lights flickered outside, casting colorful shadows on the cobblestone streets of Madrid. Inside, the music was loud, the energy high, and the crowd lively—a perfect distraction from the lingering tension simmering between you. You didn’t like to be told what to do and even though it wasn’t being vocalized you were determined to prove a point tonight, that Jude couldn’t. Jude wasn’t the only one who could command attention, and you were tired of feeling like he was the one in control of this relationship. You’d now flown across the Atlantic Ocean for him twice now and yet there was still no clarification on what you were to him. If he wanted you to act like you were his, he’d have to tell you you were not just assume it. You knew people noticed you, but Jude had a way of overshadowing everything, making you feel like just another part of his world. Tonight, you wanted to remind him that you weren’t just an accessory on his arm. You were not like all those who had bowed down to him before. As you settled into a corner of the bar, Jude’s friend Aurelien had joined you, his usual easygoing charm on full display. Aurelien was one of the few people in Jude’s circle that you genuinely felt like you got on with and you knew he liked you. He was funny, handsome, smart, and—most importantly—he didn’t treat you like you were just Jude’s girl. You both spoke French, and tonight, you decided to use it to your advantage. The night had started innocently enough—but as the drinks flowed and inhibitions lowered. Flirting had always been second nature to you, and tonight was no exception.

“Salut, Aurel, ça fait longtemps,” [Hi, Aurel, it’s been a long time!] you said, your voice lilting as you slipped effortlessly into your shared language. You leaned in close to Aurelien, your lips curving into a playful smile as you greeted him in French.

“Ça va, YN? Toujours aussi belle,” [Are you okay, Y/N? Still so beautiful,] Aurelien replied, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he responded in kind. You exchanged pleasantries, your conversation light and easy, but with an undercurrent that was meant to get under Jude’s skin. And it worked. Jude watched you, his jaw tightening as he struggled to follow the rapid exchange. He didn’t know enough French to follow and the pace you and Aurelien were speaking at made it even harder to keep up. He didn’t like being left out. It felt deliberate, and it stoked the jealousy that had already been smoldering since the Instagram stories. You could feel Jude’s gaze on you, but you didn’t stop. You laughed at something Aurelien said, a light, airy sound that made Jude’s chest tighten. He knew what you were doing, and it drove him crazy. He wasn’t used to feeling this way—possessive, insecure, like he was the one who had to fight for your attention but he had been feeling it essentially since you met. It made him realize just how much he cared, how deeply he was already in. Seeing this in person made things brutally more painful than seeing it on his phone’s screen.

“Enough,” Jude said, his voice low and tense, leaving no room for argument. After a while, Jude wasn’t able to take it anymore. “We’re going home, yeah?.” He reached out, gently but firmly wrapping his hand around your waist, pulling your attention away from Aurelien.

“Already?” you asked, feigning innocence as you met his gaze. “But we’re having such a good time.” You looked at him, surprised by the intensity in his eyes. You knew you had pushed him, but you hadn’t expected this reaction.

“Now, Y/N,” Jude insisted, his grip on your wrist tightening just enough to make his point clear.

“Bonne nuit ma belle.” [Good night, beautiful.] Aurelien looked between you, sensing the tension. He offered you a sympathetic smile, but didn’t interfere. “Jude, hablaré contigo mañana.” [Jude, I'll talk to you tomorrow.] He gave you both a small wave before turning back to the bar. The car ride home was silent, the air between you thick with unspoken words. You could feel the tension radiating off him, but you didn’t back down. You had wanted to make a point, and it seemed like it had worked. As soon as you were inside, Jude turned to face you, his eyes dark with a mix of emotions— jealousy but most of all, desire. The second you both stumbled through the door, the click of the lock barely audible over the tension, Jude's hands were on you-possessive and insistent.

“Why do you have to do this angel? Why won’t you just be a good girl?” He demanded, his voice rough as he tried to keep his devious smirk at bay. You knew he was gaslighting you. God were you embarrassingly turned on though. The intensity in his words took you by surprise.

“You did it first.” You quipped trying to not cave too easily. You crossed your arms over your chest, meeting his gaze defiantly. “Why is it okay for people to fawn over you, but not for me?” you shot back. “You’re not the only one who can turn heads, Jude. I’m not just some accessory to your life.” You explained a bit more seriously than both you and Jude were expecting. He took a step closer, his worry now surpassing his lust.

“I know you’re not,” he said, his voice going soft with emotion. “But you’re mine, Y/N. I don’t want to see you with anyone else. I can’t stand the thought of it. Do you understand that? Not in Manhattan, not in Madrid, not anywhere in the world.” He explained to you, Jude's voice was low and dangerous. Suddenly as you glanced down and saw his pants beginning to tent and you smiled greedily. “Nah, if you wanted my cock so bad all you had to do was ask, angel. I'd fly anywhere in the world for this pussy.” Jude hand slowly came and gripped around your neck. At first it was gentle but then he squeezed taking your breath away. He gave you a smirk that made your pussy throb. His brown eyes smoldering with possessiveness. Jude's hands were on you-insistent. Jude wasted no time after that, pushing you against the door, his body caging you in. "You like to play with fire, don't you, baby?" he murmured, his warm breath fanning your neck. "Flirting with Aurelien right under my nose. You know no one turns you on the way I can though, isn’t that right?" He had you trapped you between the cool surface and the overwhelming heat of him. His lips found yours in a messy, hungry kiss, like he had been waiting all night for this moment, like every touch outside the door was just a tease for what was coming. Your head spun, not just from the alcohol, but from the intensity of his grip on your hips, his fingers digging into your skin like he couldn't get close enough. His kisses were fiery, desperate, as his lips trailed down your neck, igniting your skin wherever they touched. You gasped as his mouth grazed your collarbone, your hands instinctively gripping his hair, pulling him even closer. "You're just f’me," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. “You know you’re just a whore for me.” His hands roamed your body with a mixture of tenderness and urgency, fingers tracing the curve of your waist before slipping under the hem of your top. The friction between your bodies was electric, every movement charged with desire. Your heart raced, pounding in your chest as his lips found yours again, more demanding this time, as though he couldn't stand the distance between you any longer. He had you pinned against the door, you could feel his need, his possessiveness, like he was marking you with every touch, every kiss. The world outside didn't exist anymore-just you and him, lost in each other.

"J-Jude, I didn't mean..." You melted into his hold, completely consumed by the heat of the moment, his touch searing into your skin like fire. You gasped as his hands moved to slid up your thigh, lifting your skirt. Your clothes were just disappearing second by second.

"Shh..." He silenced you with a finger on your lips. "You don't need to explain. I understand what you want, Y/N. You just wanted my attention." He patronized you in the hottest way and even though you knew you should hate him for it it had you desperate for him. His hands reached for the waistband of your panties, slowly sliding them down your legs. You trembled as he exposed your wetness, your body betraying your guilt. "You're so wet, baby. Do you know why?" Jude's voice was a low purr, his fingers teasing your sensitive folds.

"N-no," you whispered, your voice hoarse with desire.

"Because you wanted my attention and now that you’ve got it, you’re excited for me to punish you for being a whore tonight. And you’re gonna love it because you only get to be like this f’me, hmm?" With that, he delivered a sharp smack to your exposed ass, making you cry out.

"Fuck! Jude, please..." You squirmed against the door, your body already responding to his dominance. You moved your hips towards him, his fingers dragging through your fold and then pushing deep inside you. One of his massive hands gripping your ass then the other taking his thumb sliding it from your entrance to your clit. The base of his fingers and knuckles were wet with your slick sliding in and out of you as he simultaneously began to make tight circles on your clit.

"Please what, angel?" He landed another spank as he multitasked, leaving a stinging sensation on your skin. "Do you like being punished for flirting with my friends? Does it make you wet knowing I'm the only one who can touch you like this?"

"Yeah, please... more..." You couldn't deny the pleasure his words and actions were eliciting. Your head fell back, exposing your neck. His lips quick to find your neck, sucking on your sensitive skin. You bucked your hips up against his hand as he moved his fingers in and out of you, his thumb still working your clit.

"That's my good girl. You know who you belong to. I'm going to remind you just how much you're mine. Remind you of the way only I can make you feel." Jude chuckled, the sound sending a thrill through your body. You felt his free hand roam over your body, claiming every inch of you. His fingers pinched your nipples through the lace of your bra, eliciting a moan from your lips. "That's it, let me hear your sweet voice," he encouraged, his breath hot against your ear. "Tell me how much you want my cock." You knew your climax had been rapidly approaching and then he snatched it away. You gasped with a whine. Jude was in control tonight and he was making sure you knew that.

"I want it your cock, Jude, please!” You pleaded, your words fueled by the building desire. Your hand trailed down to the front of his boxers, cupping his length. He groaned into your mouth as you kissed him. You squeezed lightly, feeling the precum soaking through the thin material. His cock twitched under your hand as you rubbed him through his boxers. You slowly began to kiss down Jude’s body.

“Fuck baby. You want to be a good girl now? Show me you know you’re just f’me.” Jude asked you feeling your lips above the waistband of his boxers. Never in your life had you gotten turned on by a man taking control of you, claiming you and yet Jude had you dripping. You took his cock out and greedily licked your lips at the thick length and the vein running along the side of it. You took his cock into your hand and pumped it slowly as you locked eyes with Jude, letting some of your spit drop down into it. Slowly you licked the vein from base all the way up till you wrapped your lips around the tip. Jude’s hands immediately found their way to the back of your head, grabbing your hair tight. You moaned around his length. Jude inhaled as you took more of him until he hit the back of your throat, he bit his lip watching you bop up and down on his cock. “You love having my cock in your mouth, angel, huh? Look so sexy like this.” he groaned. You moaned and the hum vibrated through him. You took him deeper picking up the pace, minute after minute flying by. “Baby…you’re gonna make me cum like this.” Jude groaned as you let him fuck your face. “You don’t want me to cum in your mouth though do you? I think you like it when I cum somewhere else, that right?” Jude breathily got through his words. You nodded as he cupped your chin and pulled you off him with a mischievous glint in his eyes. The sight of you with drool pooling in the corners of your mouth, tears on your lash line had him in a lustful haze. He roughly pulled you up and pressed his lips to yours.

"Please, fuck me. Remind me I’m yours." You begged him pulling away from the kiss. He wasted no time. He pulled his shirt over his head. Once his shirt was off, he picked you up, his hands sliding over the curve of your ass, down under it, and to the backs of your thighs, lifting you off the ground. He wrapped your legs around his waist, settling you there. He reached down and positioned himself at your entrance. Without direction you dragged Judes fingers up to your mouth taking two of them into your mouth. You moaned, wrapping your lips around his fingers as his length slowly filled you. He took his hand from your mouth both his hands palming your ass, pressing your back to the door in a fury.

"Oh my god, fuck.” you cried out as he entered you in one swift motion, filling you completely. Jude's hands gripped your hips, guiding your movements as he began to thrust.

“Mmm. That’s it. That’s the spot, huh?” He smugly smiled as he found your g spot in an instant. Your face scrunched, and jaw slacked with a nod confirming. “Feel so good, baby" He grunted, his breath ragged. "So tight and wet around my cock.” He groaned. Your body felt like it was on fire as you pushed your heel into his muscular back.

“Jude, I fucking love y… your cock.” You whined, almost catching yourself out as you bounced on his cock. You called out his name as he hit all the spots perfectly fit for him. The pace, the force, every stroke was everything you could ever want. You leaned in, your lips slamming into his again as he continued to pound into you.

“God, you love it like this, don’t you?” He growled moving his lips, kissing up your jaw to your ear before nippling on it, then grazing his teeth down your neck. Your pussy tightened around his cock. You were a mess as Jude guided your hips. You were barreling into an orgasm. Jude pushed you harder against the door letting one of his hands drop in between you two to find your clit. “That’s right. Cum f’me baby.” And with that your body convulsed as you came undone on Jude’s cock. The coil in your stomach snapped, the pressure sending Jude over the edge with you. Your orgasms hit you like waves, crashing over your bodies. Your nails dug into his muscular back as you rode the intense pleasure. Jude's grip on your hips tightened, holding you in place as he continued to thrust. Your bounces slowing down to a stop. His sweat-coated chest heaved as he lazily smiled at you with a look that you could describe as love.

"YN, I..." Jude's words turned into a growl as he emptied himself deep within you, his hot cum filling your core. As your bodies calmed, he pulled you close, his lips finding yours in a passionate kiss until he pulled away almost breathless. "I understand tonight…" he whispered against your mouth. Your bodies still buzzing from the intensity of it all. The air between you felt different—charged but also heavy with unspoken words. Jude looked down at you, his gaze soft but serious, the remnants of that fiery possessiveness from earlier still lingering in his eyes. His fingers traced gentle lines along your though, as though grounding himself in your presence. “But you know…” he began, his voice low and thoughtful, “I’m not blind to it. I know how everyone looks at you.” You turned your head slightly to meet his eyes, sensing there was more he needed to say. He exhaled, his hand pausing on your skin. “You’re so… God, you’re the most gorgeous girl in Madrid. In Manhattan, too. I see it in their faces—my friends, strangers, people at clubs. They all see what I see. And I know…” His voice wavered for a moment, the vulnerability seeping through, “I know how coveted you are. I know what it must feel like for them, knowing I’m the one who gets to be with you.” You blinked, taken aback by the rawness in his words. He wasn’t just talking about your looks—there was something deeper there, something that made your heart ache in the best possible way. Jude leaned in closer, his forehead resting lightly against yours. “But it’s not just that I get to sleep with the hottest girl in Madrid or Manhattan,” he continued softly, “I don’t take for granted that I’m the one who gets to know you. Like really know you, behind the glass; your fears, your dreams, the way your mind works, the things that make you laugh. No one else knows you like that. And I’m so fucking lucky you let me be that guy.” His admission hung between you, raw and real, and you felt your chest tighten with emotion. You could see the sincerity in his eyes, the way he looked at you like you were his world, his everything. “I don’t take any of this for granted,” he whispered, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “Not for a second and I’ll never stop being grateful for that.” You swallowed hard, your throat tightening as your fingers instinctively reached for his, intertwining them with yours. It wasn’t just about the jealousy or the possessiveness—it was about the way he saw you, understood you, and cherished you in a way no one else ever had. You smiled softly, your heart full, knowing that despite everything—the flirting, the teasing—it all came back to this: the two of you, here, together, holding onto something that felt too precious to let slip away.

"Thank you. That means a lot to me.” You smiled, a little breathless, as you realized the depth of your submission to this man. The night's events had transformed into a powerful reminder of the intense connection you shared, leaving you both satisfied and utterly spent. This was a little fun though, no, Jude?” You giggled. He nodded very matter of factly. You headed upstairs drunk off a little bit of tequila still lingering and very drunk off him. You were slightly mortified he just fucked you in the foyer but it was late. It was morning essentially and that made it all the more risky.

“It’s okay.” He whispered in your ear reassuring you as he walked behind you, his arms wrapped around you as you carried half of your clothes upstairs in your hands. “You just can’t help yourself. No one can make you feel the way I can and you just were so horny for me. You couldn’t wait.”He kissed your bare shoulder.

“Oh my god! Shut up honestly.” You groaned through a quiet giggle. “You came home and were all over me because you are the most jealous man I’ve ever met. I spoke french to Aurelien for 5 minutes and you came home and you just couldn’t help yourself because no one can make you feel the way I can and you just were so horny for me.” You quipped reciting his words back to him. He kissed your hair and then rolled his eyes. “You couldn’t wait.” You kissed your teeth.

“Yeah yeah yeah. You got me but let’s face it we’re very good at fucking. It’d be a shame to waste such talent, hmm?” He kissed behind your ear. You shook your head as you entered his bedroom. Jude turned you around to face him, his hands framing your face as he looked into your eyes. “Y/N, jokes aside. I don’t want anyone else, and I don’t want you with anyone else, yeah?” Jude honestly told you. Your breath caught in your throat at the intensity of his words. For so long, you had been afraid to let yourself fall, afraid of getting hurt, but now, hearing Jude’s confession, you felt your own walls start to crumble. You nodded terrified agreeing to this all over again.

The weeks that followed your decision to stay in Madrid were filled with a rare kind of bliss. You and Jude had found a rhythm that felt effortless, your days punctuated by moments of quiet intimacy and your nights by passion that left you both breathless. It was easy to forget the outside world when it was just the two of you, cocooned in your own little bubble. But the bubble had to burst eventually, and it did with the arrival of Trent and Whitney. Whitney and Trent arrived in Madrid with an energy of excitement, and Denise warmly welcomed them into the house. After a quick chat downstairs, Denise mentioned that Jude was upstairs in the shower, you probably just in the room, and sent them up to put their luggage away in one of the guest rooms. As Trent carried the bags up, Whitney trailed behind him, admiring the home decor. When they reached the guest room, Trent placed the suitcases down and stretched. He wandered over to the large window, taking in the view of the rolling Spanish hills. But something else quickly caught his attention. From his vantage point, Trent could see directly onto the balcony connected to Jude's bedroom-and there, completely unaware of their audience, were you and Jude. Jude's hands were gripping your ass, your legs wrapped around his waist as he fucked into you. Kissing you deeply, the two of you lost in each other, the moment heated and intimate under the Spanish sun. The sound of music and the running shower from inside Jude's room clearly meant to mask the intensity of your connection from anyone nearby.

"Erm… Whit baby, this is one hell of a shower Jude is having." Trent blinked a few times, taken aback for a split second, and then burst out laughing. Barely able to contain himself, he waved her over. Whitney walked over, curious, and followed Trent's gaze.

"Oh my God!" she gasped, immediately reaching to cover Trent's eyes with a mix of shock and laughter. The second she saw what was happening, her eyes widened. "Don't look, T! Oh my God!"

"Hey, they're just... taking advantage of the view. It's their balcony." Trent just chuckled, shaking his head. Whitney, now laughing, peeked again and then sighed, still mortified but amused.

“Well, I guess that's why Y/N enjoys Madrid so much." She kept her hand over Trent's eyes, playfully scolding him, but neither could stop laughing. They both backed away from the window, sharing a knowing look. "Let's let them, uh... finish Jude's 'shower," Whitney said, still giggling. They left the guest room quietly, trying their best not to make any noise as they made their way back downstairs, barely able to contain their laughter at the unexpected scene they'd stumbled upon. Trent had a game against Atletico Madrid yesterday and Whitney decided to tag along and extend their stay. Both their visit and your reconciliation was the perfect excuse for a party. Jude’s sprawling villa in the hills outside Madrid ideal for the occasion—luxurious, private, and large enough to accommodate the guest list that had grown exponentially over the days leading up to the event. The night of the party, the house was transformed. Lights twinkled in the trees that lined the driveway, the pool was lit up in shades of blue, and music pulsed through the speakers around the expansive outdoor space. People had come in droves—teammates, moreover athletes in general, influencers, and socialites. The kind of crowd that made the party a must-attend event, even if you didn’t know the host personally. As the night wore on, the atmosphere grew more electric. The heat of the day had settled into a balmy evening, but the temperature inside the house was rising. Drinks were flowing, laughter echoed off the walls, and the music was loud enough to vibrate through the floors. It was the kind of party where everyone was vying for attention, where girls dressed to the nines tried to catch the eye of one of the many footballers in attendance. But Jude was oblivious to most of it. He stood off to the side, leaning against a column with a drink in hand, his eyes never straying far from you. You were talking with Whitney near the pool, your laugh carrying over the noise, and Jude felt a warmth in his chest that had nothing to do with the alcohol. You were radiant tonight, your Ferragamo woven fringe mini dress perfectly draping off your body, your hair slicked back into a low bun exposing your bare back and patina Bottega drop earrings. He wasn’t the only one who noticed, either—he had seen more than a few guys look your way, their eyes lingering a little too long for his liking.

“Hell of a party, mate,” Trent said, coming over, clapping Jude on the back and pulling him out of his reverie, a wide grin on his face as he surveyed the scene. “Who knew you had a knack for this. Give Whit a run for her money. Don’t tell her I said that though.” Trent laughed. Jude followed with a chuckle, but his gaze was still fixed on you.

“Yeah, it’s something. But I really just had Y/N sort it,” he replied, though his mind was elsewhere. The atmosphere was warm, though slightly chaotic. After the rocky week you’d had, being surrounded by friends seemed like the perfect distraction but you were proving to be a distraction for him right now.

“They know how to throw a party, they know how to dress for one as well, hmm?” Trent remarked, nodding toward you and Whitney. He followed Jude’s line of sight and smirked. “Can’t say I blame you for being so distracted, I’m in the same boat.”

“She’s so amazing, bro. I really like having her here” he said, his tone more serious than he intended. “A lot more than I ever thought I would.” Jude tore his eyes away from you long enough to give Trent a look. Trent raised an eyebrow, but didn’t press.

“Yeah, mate, course,” he said, taking a sip of his drink. “Just don’t let her catch you brooding in the corner all night. Girls like her don’t like that.” Trent joked. He wasn’t really even sure what he meant but the sentiment stood. Jude didn’t need the reminder. He knew exactly how rare you were, and the thought of losing you—even in the smallest way—was enough to make him feel uneasy. But he wasn’t about to let his jealousy ruin the night, not when things had been so good between you. As if sensing his thoughts, you looked over at him, your eyes meeting his across the crowd. You gave him a smile, the kind that made his heart skip a beat, and excused yourself from Whitney to make your way over to him. Jude straightened up as you approached, his earlier tension melting away in your presence.

“Who knew the host was so handsome.” You giggled. “Enjoying the party?” you asked, your voice soft as you reached him, your hand lightly brushing against his arm.

“Not as much as I’m enjoying looking at you,” Jude replied, his lips curving into a smile as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear. “You’re the most beautiful thing here, you know that?”

“You always know what to say, don’t you?” you teased, though the compliment had clearly flustered you. You blushed, your eyes sparkling as you looked up at him.

“Only when it comes to you,” he said, his hand finding the small of your back, drawing you closer to him. Jude’s smile widened. For a moment, the noise of the party faded into the background, and it was just the two of you, wrapped up in each other. Jude could feel the familiar pull between you, the magnetic connection that made it impossible to stay away from you for long. He wasn’t sure what it was about you that had gotten so deep under his skin, but he knew he didn’t want it to end. “I’m glad you stayed, angel” he said softly, his voice barely audible over the music. “Thank you so much for coming back.” He sadly smiled.

“I’m glad I stayed too,” you replied, your hand coming up to rest on his chest. “And just so you know, you’re the only one I’m interested in tonight.” You looked up at him, your expression softening under his gaze. Jude felt a surge of relief at your words, the last remnants of his earlier jealousy fading away.

“Good,” he murmured, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your lips. “Because you’re the only one I want.” He whispered and your heart fluttered. Jude’s house was alive with the sounds of music, laughter, and clinking glasses. Both of you dancing around the fragile reconciliation you both had recently achieved. But, despite the fun, the air held a lingering tension. The party was filled with faces you didn’t recognize, girls who clearly had no idea Jude was seeing anyone.

"Where’s Jude at?" One girl leaned in closer to ask Toby. As the evening progressed, a group of girls gathered near him, drinks in hand, casually glancing around the room.

"He’s with his missus." Without hesitation, Toby, always quick with a response, looked up from his drink, scanning the room.

"Wait, Jude Bellingham is seeing someone?" one of them asked, almost incredulously. “The Jude Bellingham?” The girl almost choked. The girls exchanged surprised glances, clearly caught off guard by the revelation. Toby nodded, eyes scanning the room until they landed on you and Jude. You’d retreated to the corner of Jude’s living room, away from the crowd. You were curled up together on a sofa now, Jude’s arm draped casually yet protectively around your shoulders, both of you wrapped up in quiet conversation. The soft glow of the lights made the scene look almost too intimate for the party’s bustling energy. From across the room, you caught the subtle shift in attention and noticed the group of girls whispering while throwing glances in your direction. Toby’s gaze followed, a smirk playing at his lips as if he knew something they didn’t.

"Maybe we should sit up or, I don’t know, tone it down? People are staring," you whispered, your voice laced with hesitation. Feeling the weight of the eyes on you, you shifted uncomfortably and turned to Jude. But Jude, caught up in the comfort of having you close, shook his head and tightened his grip on you.

“Let them look,” he said casually, brushing a kiss against your temple. "I don’t care what anyone thinks. All I care about is you." You tried to protest again, your self-consciousness rising, but Jude silenced you with a smile that left no room for doubt. He wasn’t hiding you, and for once, you weren’t a secret. Toby, seeing the whole scene unfold, raised his drink in a silent toast from across the room, acknowledging the quiet but significant shift in Jude but there was something almost taunting about it. It wasn’t just about you anymore—it was about you both, together. And whether or not the girls liked it, Jude wasn’t about to let you go and you were trying to read just what Toby thought about that.

As the night wore on, the party continued to buzz around you, the laughter and chatter of the guests creating a lively backdrop to the quieter, more intimate moments Jude and you were sharing. You hadn’t moved in hours. The couch you settled on was plush and inviting, a perfect spot to unwind and steal a few moments for yourselves.You nestled into Jude’s side, your head resting on his chest as he draped an arm around your shoulders. The warmth of his body against your was comforting, grounding you in the midst of the chaos that swirled around you. You were close enough to the action to still feel a part of it, but far enough away that you could have a conversation without having to shout over the noise. You just sat there, content in each other’s presence. Jude absentmindedly played with a tassel of your dress twirling it around his finger as he looked down at you. There was something so peaceful about moments like this—when it was just the two of you, and the rest of the world seemed to fade away. After a while, Jude broke the comfortable silence.

“You know,” he began, his voice soft but carrying an undertone of seriousness, “I’ve been thinking a lot about us lately.” He cooed.

“What about us?” you asked, your voice gentle as you studied his expression. You tilted your head up to look at him, your eyes curious. Jude paused for a moment, choosing his words carefully. Embarrassingly you were hoping he’d give you some sort of label.

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way about anyone before,” he admitted, his tone earnest. “You’re… different. You’re like a piece of art—one of those masterpieces that people spend their whole lives searching for. And somehow, I got lucky enough to find you.” Jude’s expression was serious.

“That’s quite the compliment,” you said, your voice touched with amusement. “You’re saying I belong in a museum?” You felt your heart swell at his words, a soft teasing smile playing on your lips.

“Not a museum,” he corrected, his fingers brushing lightly against your cheek. Jude chuckled, shaking his head. “You belong in a private collection, where only the right person can fully appreciate you. You’re not just beautiful, Y/N. You’re one of a kind.” he mused.

“I think you’re giving me too much credit,” you murmured, though his words had clearly touched you. Your smile widened, but there was a hint of shyness in your eyes. It wasn’t a label but this was a sweet conversation.

“No, I’m not,” Jude insisted, his voice firm but tender. “I mean it. There’s something about you… something I can’t quite put into words. It’s like you’ve got all these layers, and every time I think I’ve figured you out, there’s something new. Like those paintings that reveal something different every time you look at them.”

“You really know how to flatter a girl, don’t you?” you teased, though the affection in your voice was unmistakable. “But you know, I’ve always thought of you as more of a sculpture. Strong, defined… but there’s a softness to you that people don’t see unless they get close enough.” You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head slightly. Jude’s expression softened at your words, his thumb gently stroking your shoulder.

“I like that,” he said quietly. “I like that you see me that way. But I think you’re the first one to get that close to me, Y/N. You’re the artist or maybe the gallerist I guess who brings me to life.” He smiled. You felt a lump form in your throat at the sincerity in his voice. You had always been careful with your heart, afraid of letting anyone get too close, but with Jude, it was different. He saw you in a way no one else did, and that scared you as much as it thrilled you.

“You’re important to me, Jude,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. “More than I ever expected. Sometimes I feel like I’m still figuring out what this is… what we are. But I know one thing for sure—I don’t want to lose you.” Jude’s grip on your tightened slightly, as if he were afraid you might slip away.

“You won’t lose me,” he promised, his voice firm. “I’m not going anywhere, Y/N. I want to be here, with you, angel, for as long as you’ll have me, as long as you want to stay.” He gently cooed. You leaned up, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, a silent acknowledgment of everything you were feeling but couldn’t quite say. When you pulled back, you rested your forehead against his, closing your eyes as you let yourself savor the moment.

“Stay with me tonight,” Jude whispered, his breath warm against your skin. “Just like this. I don’t care about the party or anyone else here. I just want you.” He cooed.

“I’m not going anywhere, Judey.” You nodded with a smirk, your voice catching as you replied. As you stayed there with him, Jude felt fear wash over him. Just how smitten he was was ringing every alarm bell. He could feel it and although with you in his arms settling his racing heart he began to panic watching his other world spin around him and you creating a whole new one for him that just didn’t seem to be able to merge. You stayed curled up in Jude’s arms for what felt like hours, the world outside your little bubble fading away as the party continued to swirl around you. The music, the laughter, the clinking of glasses—it all became background noise to the comforting rhythm of Jude’s heartbeat under your ear. You could have stayed like that forever, letting the warmth of his body seep into you, but eventually, the effects of the wine and the hours of sitting began to catch up with you.

“I think I drank a little too much,” you murmured, your voice a mix of amusement and self-awareness as you glanced up at him. You shifted slightly, trying to ignore the way the room tilted ever so slightly as you moved.

“Yeah? You’ve had a long day, angel” he said gently, brushing a stray lock of fallen hair behind your ear. “Why don’t you go up to my bed? I’ll be up in a bit.” Jude’s eyes softened as he looked down at you, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Are you sure?” you asked, your voice laced with reluctance. You hesitated, not wanting to leave the safety of his embrace, but the warmth of the alcohol and the late hour were making you drowsy.

“Positive,” Jude replied, his tone taking on a more playful edge as he leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear. “And angel… make sure you’re ready for me when I get there.” He whispered. The suggestion in his voice sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt a blush creep up your neck. You nodded, your heart fluttering as you pulled yourself away from him and stood up, feeling slightly unsteady on your feet. Jude watched you go, his eyes following you as you made your way through the crowded room. His heart clenched painfully in his chest as he watched your retreating figure. How could he miss someone who was still within his line of sight? The feeling was so foreign, so intense, that it almost overwhelmed him. He had never felt this way about anyone before—so completely taken, so utterly captivated. As soon as you disappeared from view, the atmosphere of the party seemed to rush back at him all at once. Like the crack of thunder. The noise, the lights, the people—it was a jarring contrast to the quiet intimacy he had just shared with you. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, but the realization of how deeply you had gotten under his skin left him reeling. Before he could process his thoughts, he felt a heavy hand clap down on his shoulder. Jude turned to see Toby grinning at him with a knowing look in his eyes.

“Mate,” Toby said, his voice tinged with amusement, “you’re down so bad. Oh my days.” He laughed.

“What are you talking about?” he replied, trying to sound nonchalant. Jude gave a half-hearted chuckle, shrugging off the comment even as it hit closer to home than he would have liked.

“Don’t be daft” Toby continued, his grin widening. “I saw the way you were looking at her. You’re a complete melt, bro. I never thought I’d see the day.” He raised his eyebrows.

“It’s not like that,” he said, though his voice lacked conviction. “She’s just… different.” Jude rolled his eyes, trying to brush off the teasing, but he couldn’t shake the feeling Toby’s words had stirred up inside him. Jude felt everything slipping as he was being called out. He felt out of control and he needed to get back to being Jude.

“Different? You mean she’s got you tied in knots, mate. Don’t tell me you’re getting serious about this girl. What are you doing, bro?” Toby raised his eyebrow once more, clearly unconvinced. Jude hesitated, his mind racing. He didn’t want to admit it—to himself or to anyone else—but Toby was right. He was serious about you, more serious than he had ever been about anyone. And that scared the hell out of him.

“Nah, you’re just seeing things,” he said, clapping Toby on the back. “I’m still the same lad I’ve always been.” Not wanting to dwell on the uncomfortable truth, Jude forced a grin and tried to play it off.

“Sure, Jude. Whatever you say.” Toby snorted, clearly not buying it. “But don’t let her keep you on a leash. There’s plenty of fun to be had in Madrid, where she doesn’t live, and here tonight, if you know what I mean.” Toby nodded toward a group of girls nearby, one of whom had been eyeing Jude all night. She was pretty, with a bright smile and a confident air about her. A year ago, Jude wouldn’t have thought twice about going over to talk to her. But now… now all he could think about was you upstairs, waiting for him. But there was a part of him—small but persistent—that didn’t want to let himself be so caught up in one person. He didn’t want to be the guy who got too serious, who lost his edge. He didn’t want to be the guy who let a girl tie him down, who let himself get hurt.

“You know what? You’re right,” he said, though the words felt wrong on his tongue. “Gonna go see what’s out there. Nothing’s changed here.” In a moment of defiance—against Toby’s teasing, against the feelings he couldn’t quite understand—Jude made a decision. He gave Toby a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Toby laughed, clearly pleased with himself, and gave Jude an encouraging shove in the direction of the girl. Jude hesitated for a split second, his heart tugging him in the opposite direction, but then he pushed it down. He wouldn’t let himself get too deep, too invested. Not yet. With that thought in mind, Jude walked over to the girl, putting on his most charming smile, but even as he made small talk, his mind was elsewhere—on the girl who was waiting for him upstairs, the girl who had somehow managed to make him feel things he wasn’t ready to feel.

•

🪩🫶❤️‍🔥🍹🌞🍒 Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter 🍒🌞🍹❤️‍🔥🫶🪩

Next part - Chapter 8 - Last Night xx

[cosmicdahlias]

Take Me Under

a ford x reader fic

MINORS DNI

warnings: NONCON, drugging, somnophilia, oral, smut

so this is a spiritual successor to my last fic, it’s not a continuation but the themes are similar

It was a warm summer night in Gravity Falls. The crickets chirped as you sat out on the porch with your research partner, Stanford Pines. You nursed your glass of whiskey that Ford had poured for you. It had been a long night of research, Ford was trying to build an interdimensional gateway, stuff you would’ve thought five years ago only existed in science fiction, but he really was a genius.

His other partner had already gone home for the night, Fiddleford. He was a good guy, a family man with a son, you believed his name was Tate. Tonight you were kind of happy Fiddleford had left already, you liked him just fine but the truth was you had feelings for his cohort.

You blushed whenever Ford looked your way, eyed his hands as they fiddled with the laboratory devices, wondering to yourself how his hands would feel on you. There were so many times you wanted to tell him how you felt, to confess your true feelings. With Fiddleford almost always present the timing never felt right, but tonight you had Ford all to yourself.

Neither of you said much, just taking in the night air. You bounced your leg nervously, you started to feel light headed but decided to ignore it. Ford studied your face, it was clear you were anxious about something.

“Y/n, are you okay?”

You bit the bullet and took a deep breath.

“Ford, I-“

But before you could get another word out the world around you began to sway, the corners of your vision going black, the darkness slowly creeping in. You felt yourself falling forward. The last thing you heard was Ford’s voice.

“Y/n? Y/n!”

-

Ford caught you in his arms, he looked down at you, not sure what to do. He shook you.

“Y/n! Y/n!”

He tried to collect his thoughts, what the hell had just happened? You were fine all day and now you were out cold. He put a hand to your forehead, it felt normal, you weren’t sick.

A chilling laugh that made the hairs on his neck stand on end echoed through his head.

“Well well well well well well well well well, looks like the perfect opportunity is right in front of you, sixer.”

Ford swallowed. “Bill?”

“The one and only. So what do you think of my handiwork?”

“Handiwork? What handiwork?”

“Oh come on, you’ve been pining after this kid for ages and you’ve been too darn afraid to do anything so I figured I’d throw you a bone.”

Ford felt a pit grow in his stomach “Bill… what did you do?”

“It’s really not that big of a deal, sixer. I just had you add a little something special to their drink.”

Ford was horrified. “Bill, that’s- you can’t-“

“Oh come off it Fordsy, you and I both know this is a golden opportunity. Do you seriously think you’re gonna have the guts to even kiss them when they’re awake?”

Ford bit his lip, Bill was right, he was a coward when it came to you.

“Mull it over, I’ll leave you two alone for now, don’t be a pussy. Byyyyyyeeeee.”

And with that things were quiet again, it was just Ford and you lying unconscious in his arms. He felt his pulse in his throat. He had wanted to kiss you, to know you intimately for so long. Would he really get another chance like this?

He stood up, and carried you through the front door. He walked through the dark shack, the floorboards creaking underneath his feet. He opened the door to his room and walked to the edge of his bed, setting you down gently on the plush covers.

He cupped your cheek, stroking it with his thumb. He knew it was sick, but thought you looked incredibly cute passed out. Your lips were parted slightly, so kissable. He couldn’t resist, he leaned down and kissed you deeply and felt himself grow achingly hard. Fuck, this felt so wrong but he didn’t have the will to stop himself now.

His fingers traced the top button of your blouse, undoing each of them slowly, kissing his way down the valley between your breasts as he did so.

He thumbed the delicate lace of your bra, god if you hadn’t planned to be seen like this why would you wear something so sexy underneath? He slipped a hand down your back to sit you up so he could undo your bra.

He sucked in a breath as he laid you back down and took in the sight of your breasts, they were so fucking perfect. He had pictured it in his mind thousands of times but the real thing was even better than he imagined. He took one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling it with his tongue. Taking your other breast in his hand, he circled your nipple with his index finger.

His cock throbbed through his pants. If this was wrong why was he so turned on? Was he really that depraved? He shook his head, trying to escape the thoughts and enjoy the moment.

He ran his calloused hands up your thighs and started to pull down your pants. He let out a small dark chuckle, matching underwear. Yeah, you were asking for this. He hooked his thumbs in the waistband of your panties and slid them off your legs. The sight of you elicited another sinister laugh from him. You were soaking wet, even in your unconscious state your body begged for him.

He pulled his hands off of you and began removing his trench coat, next his sweater vest and collared shirt. He unbuckled his belt, letting it hit the floor with a loud thud. He slid his boxers off of his hips and let them fall over his discarded pants.

He stroked himself absentmindedly as he studied your naked body. He wished he had a polaroid camera so he could save this moment forever. He wanted to ravage you, claim you. Then it occurred to him that it would only be fair to make you cum if he was going to destroy you.

He slid himself down the length of your body, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake. His hot breath tickled your pussy. He took your clit in his mouth, his tongue flicking it rapidly. He moaned into your pussy, you tasted so fucking good. He wished that you were awake so you could tangle your fingers in his hair. He slid his index and middle finger inside of you, pumping roughly into you.

He felt your walls tighten around his fingers, your wetness dripping out of you. He worked you with a steady rhythm, savoring the delicious wet sounds of his fingers sliding in and out of you.

He sucked your clit furiously, his fingers fucking you with a brutal intensity. Your pussy began to spasm around his fingers, he knew you were close. He kept at his pace, wanting to push you to orgasm.

“That’s it, baby, cum for me.”

You began to pulse around his fingers, a small moan escaped your lips. He reveled in your orgasm. His cock leaked precum and twitched wildly. Nothing had ever gotten him this aroused.

He got up, dragging you head first to the edge of the bed, tilting your head back. He swiped his finger on your tongue, feeling the warmth of your mouth. He angled his cock to your lips and shoved himself down your throat.

He fucked your mouth aggressively, panting and swearing. You looked so pretty with his cock in your throat. He bucked his hips into your face, holding a hand to your neck, feeling his cock bulge in your throat.

He felt himself getting close, and pulled out. His breathing was ragged. He took a moment to collect himself before picking you up and laying you back down with your head on the pillow.

He climbed on top of you and kissed you deeply, hands fondling your breasts. He aligned his cock with your entrance and with a loud groan forced himself into you all the way to the hilt. The way your pussy gripped his cock was perfect.

-

Your eyes fluttered open, all you could see from the dim light of the bedside table lamp was a figure moving on top of you. As your eyes adjusted and you started to come back to reality it hit you just what was happening and who it was.

“FORD WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”

“Oh, you’re awake. I’m sorry but you passed out and you just looked so perfect that I had to have you.”

You desperately tried to free yourself from underneath him, you clawed at his arms. He took your wrists in his hands and pinned them down above your head.

“Don’t- ah, don’t struggle. I promise I’ll make you feel good.”

“Ford, stop. Please.” You cried.

“I can’t, nngh, you feel too good.”

He fucked you hard, pumping his thick cock into you. The slick, wet sounds filling the room. He forced his lips on yours and moaned into your mouth, his tongue shoving its way to the back of your throat.

You wrestled yourself out of his grip and pushed him off of you. You scrambled off of the bed and ran for your life for the door, but Ford was faster. He tackled you and pinned you to the floor.

“Baby please don’t make this, ugh, harder than it has to be.” He whispered into your ear as you fought back against him.

He pulled you to your feet and shoved you back down on the bed, pinning your wrists once more. He was going to finish what he started. He violently forced himself into you again, his rhythm punishing. He groaned loudly and bit your neck, you whimpered. His cock twitching at the noise.

He stopped for a second, reaching into the bedside drawer and pulled out a pair of handcuffs that he had stolen off a cop during a night of possession by Bill. He cuffed your hands above your head. His hand now free to travel south, making its way to your clit. He drew circles with his fingers while continuing to brutally fuck you, causing your pussy clench around his cock. The pleasure was indescribable, god he loved it.

You tried to struggle again, but Ford held you down by the waist with his free hand. His breathing quickened, he was close, you were too. He pounded you into the mattress, the bed frame shaking.

“Fuck you’re gonna make me cum, I need you to cum around my cock.”

His fingers didn’t let up, you felt yourself getting closer to the edge. You bit into his into his shoulder and felt the skin break, the sickly metallic taste of blood flooding your mouth. That was enough to send Ford over, he cocked his head back and his moan echoed throughout the shack. You cried out as you came, tears welling in your eyes.

Ford shuddered and panted, he was spent. He rolled off of you and collapsed beside you. You laid there, shaking and crying. Ford took your face in his hand, wiping away the tears with his thumb.

“Shh shh shh, it’s okay, you’re okay.” He cooed. “Let me get those cuffs off of you.”

With a click of the little key your hands were released. You thought about using this as an opportunity to run, but you felt frozen. He kissed you lazily on your lips and neck, then he pulled you against his chest. His big calloused hands stroked your back. You felt strangely comforted, safe almost. You had always wanted this, to be wrapped in Ford’s arms.

Ford had desired you for so long, and now that he finally had you he wasn’t going to let you go.

[cerise-on-top]

hi sunshine 🤍 could you possibly do T141 with a hyper-independent S/O?! I’m hyper-independent and sometimes it can get very overwhelming and it would be nice to have someone try to break down my walls to help me understand that i can ask others for help!! sending all the love💕 Thank you!!

Hey there, sure I can!

TF141 with a Hyper Independent S/O

Price: I don’t think Price was too traumatized as a child, so he probably can’t relate to you very well. Maybe to the slightest degree since he, as a captain, is often seen as an authority figure, who needs to be relied on and make all the decisions. It’s not often that he gets to shut off his brain a little and be left alone. But all of that comes from his work environment, not because he was neglected as a child. I think he’d notice fairly quickly how you don’t seem to ask him for anything, ever. Not to get you a small snack, not to ask him what tomorrow’s weather might be, not to help you build that IKEA furniture. Truth be told, he’ll feel as though he’s failed as a boyfriend since his love language is acts of service. He wants to do things for you, but you don’t let him. It would annoy him at first, but he wants this to work, so he’ll talk to you about it. You’d have to be honest with him, or else I can’t see things working out for you both. If you are, then he’ll try his best to be more observant, try to find out what you like and don’t like. He’ll give you as much attention as you want whenever he can and always ask you if there’s some task that hasn’t been finished yet. You need to calm down a little bit, he does want you to rely at least a little on him. Even if it’s just something along the lines of letting him wash your clothes for once. He wants you to relax, to take some time off for yourself so you can recharge. I know it’s hard for you, but he’ll continue to communicate with you. However, you need to do the same for him too. He doesn’t want your relationship to fall apart because of something like this.

Gaz: His parents did not love him after some time, so he had to learn to rely on himself because absolutely no one would do anything at all for him. And yet, he still became successful. So yeah, I think he could relate to you. Though, I think he was able to stop himself from becoming hyper independent somewhere along the way when he was just about to break yet again. I think he would ask you for things here and there. Nothing big, he’s just self-sufficient that way, but he will ask you to cook him a certain meal when he gets home late or maybe draw him a bath. Naturally, he would do the same things and so much more for you, if you ever asked. And yet, you take it upon yourself to do everything on your own. He could probably see himself in you a little bit, which is why he’d approach you and talk to you about it. He can tell you’re not doing too well. That’s probably one of the first times he’ll open up to you about his past as well, to show you you’re not alone. He’ll ask you how he can help, how he can take this burden off your shoulders and help you become a happier person. He will go to great lengths to show you that you can rely on him. It’s okay if you can’t ask him for help right away, he’ll make sure to always tell you that he’s there for you and will try to help you with whatever it is you’re doing, whether it be finishing a report or trying to help you cope with the inherent isolation that comes with being hyper independent. I think, in a way, helping you would help heal his inner child as well. He wasn’t cared for for a long time, so it’s nice to care for you instead. He had no one for a long time either and it wasn’t good for him, so he would do whatever he could to help you through it all. He’s a very patient man too, so there’s that.

Ghost: Ah yes, the king of trauma himself. As you can probably tell, he’ll also be able to relate to you since he was actively abused as a child and doesn’t trust anyone around him, that isn’t the 141, Nikolai, Laswell or you. He does everything on his own, and I don’t think he’ll ever ask you for anything either. Maybe a simple “Do you have a quid? I wanna buy that tea.” but nothing more than that. So it’s probably gonna be difficult for the both of you to admit that something is wrong with you. Chances are you’ll break before him, though, and will be caught having a mental breakdown. If you’re honest with him, then that’s the first time he’ll realize that being like this is, indeed, not normal. He doesn’t want to see you breaking down and crying because you’ve been isolating yourself this much and can’t trust anyone. I don’t think he’ll be able to help you. Sure, he’ll suggest leaving some things to him here and there since he is a very competent man, who refuses to let you down, but he doesn’t really know what to say. At all. So I think he’ll probably make the suggestion of the both of you going to therapy together. I think the therapist will make him realize that he is not, by any means, “normal” and will tell him what might be wrong with him, but that’s for another time. I think he’d try to work it out with you somehow, trying to be more open to set an example for you, as uncomfortable as it might seem for him. He will reward you for “good behavior”, though, such as asking him to clean the bathroom since you were too burnt out that day. He’ll get you some ice cream. Your favorite flavor too, naturally, since he wants this to become a common occurrence. And he, in turn, will try to ask you for help here and there too. Mostly comfort. But he’ll try, just for you.

Soap: Another lil fella, who had a loving family. Sure, his parents sometimes ignored him when he became too loud and rowdy. But other than that? His childhood was pretty alright. He got into a lot of fights, though. Little Johnny never knew when enough was enough. However, he grew up to be a fine and observant man. He knows what you like and how you like it. Do you like your tea with sugar, honey or milk? He doesn’t even need to ask since he already knows. He will do what he can to help you however he can. He knows he’s a damn fine boyfriend, who will make your life as easy as possible. …except, for some reason, his plans aren’t working out? You avoid him more and more the more he does for you, and for no apparent reason as well? Oh, he’s pissed, but will talk to you about it. “Bonnie, you know I love you, right? So why do you avoid me like the plague?” Once he realizes why you’re the way you are, you can count on him being pissed beyond compare. You need to hold him back if you don’t want him to call your caretakers and insult them in a way only an angry Scot can. At that point, he’ll vow to himself to become an even better boyfriend. He’ll remind you that he’ll do absolutely anything for you. And he keeps his word as well. He’ll bring you coffee, he’ll buy groceries, he’ll deck someone for you. Just give him the word, please. However, he’ll be super proud of you if you ever do ask him for help and will give you a big hug and a few kisses. Baby steps, as he always says. He loves you more than anyone else, so naturally he’ll be patient with you and help you however he can. Even if it’s just a small reminder that he could do it instead.

[ninjatrashpanda]

(Please say to Me) You'll let Me be your Man

Written for @bucktommypositivityweek Round 2! Day 3 is "Missing Moments." Read on AO3 here!

“So, what is your coffee order, anyway?” Evan asked, lightly bumping his shoulder against Tommy’s. He was smiling that brilliant, adorable smile that Tommy already could feel himself falling for, (He felt like a teenager, and found himself genuinely enjoying it. Maybe there was something to that Katy Perry song after all.) which almost made him a bit weak in the knees.

“Black, no sugar.”

“Ah, okay. So that’s a red flag.”

Tommy raised an eyebrow, feigning shock as he nudged Evan back, a playful grin tugging at his lips. “A red flag? Just because I don’t drown my coffee in cream and sugar?”

Evan laughed, the sound light, warming Tommy up from the inside. They were strolling down the street, neither of them having been willing to part ways after their coffee conversation. (Coffee date? Had it been a date? Had it turned into a date after they had cleared the air?) The sky was a soft, sunny blue, the kind that was usual for Los Angeles, but no less beautiful, and the gentle breeze blowing around them was just cool enough to counter the swelling California heat.

Tommy honestly could get used to this, could see himself settling down with Evan (and maybe that was a little hasty, considering that this was only their second date, but hey, he was forty and wasn’t getting any younger), and honestly, that thought excited him. After he came out, he’d at first thrown himself into the casual sex scene, Grindr profile and all. He’d already been in his early thirties by that point and figured he should make up for lost time. Plus, dating as a firefighter-slash-rescue pilot was a pain anyway. If there was one thing he’d never lied about during his Closet Era™, it was that while his scars attracted people, him getting them freaked people out. It had been true for the women he tried dating in his twenties, and it was true for the few men he occasionally tried to actually build something with inbetween hookups and friends with benefits situations.

But as the years went by, Tommy had started to yearn. He'd found himself longing for something real, something steady, something with someone he could see himself getting married to and maybe even raise a kid or two. Someone who understood what his job meant to him, who could handle knowing that every day bore a risk, who didn’t try to talk him into switching careers.

Someone who could see past the tough firefighter persona and not get weirded out by the guy loving RomComs, monster trucks and craft beer.

Evan seemed like that kind of guy. He was a fellow first responder after all, so he knew first hand how deep the commitment to the job could run, and right from the beginning, he’d just seemed so genuine and sincere that Tommy hadn’t been able to help the butterflies in his stomach. Of course, he had also thought Evan was cute pretty much right away (Just like a teenager. Katy Perry was actually a prophet.) but had brushed it off at first. There’d been more pressing matters at hand, never mind that he’d figured Evan was straight.

Even after they’d kissed for the first time, Tommy hadn’t allowed himself to get his hopes up. He’d been in these situations before, where things just looked right on paper only to crash and burn shortly after, and when Evan had very decidedly not been ready for a relationship with another man at their first date, well, Tommy had been able to shrug it off. Good thing he hadn't gotten overly attached, or Evan shoving him back into the closet the way he did would’ve hurt a lot more than that single, sharp sting in his chest that it had been.

When Evan had called him and asked to meet so they could clear the air, Tommy’s first thought was to decline. It had been less than a week, and it was bound to be awkward. But then he’d figured he kind of owed it to Evan to hear him out, and it had somehow ended with Tommy being Evan’s date to his sister’s wedding.

“Yes, actually, being a coffee demon is a red flag,” Evan said, wiggling his eyebrows with a smirk. “Everybody knows that those who drink it black are super pretentious. I bet you post on Facebook about all the young whippersnappers ruining coffee with syrup and whipped cream.”

Tommy chuckled, shaking his head at Evan’s quip. This was another thing he more than appreciated about Evan, his sense of humor, and the casual way he managed to make Tommy feel welcome. Tommy liked to think himself quite sociable, that he could make people comfortable with him, but Evan was in a whole other league in that regard. He seemed to have some kind of aura that put people at ease.

"Oh, you caught me," Tommy said, his voice dripping with mock seriousness. "Every morning, I log on and rage-post about how the youth of today don’t appreciate the subtle notes of bitterness in a proper brew and how society will crumble over it. It's part of my morning ritual."

Evan laughed again, the sound washing over Tommy like warm summer rain. It was amazing, really, how easily Evan’s presence filled up all the little spaces that Tommy hadn’t even realized were empty. “Besides,” he continued, patting Evan on the shoulder, which caused a pink blush to spread over his cheeks. “Chimney told me about one of your red flags. You don’t watch movies?!”

Evan scrunched up his nose and playfully shoved Tommy. “Hey, that’s not a red flag, it’s just… a quirk. Every time I sit down to watch a movie, I just get bored and want to do something else.” Then, with a slight smile, he added, “Unless I have the right kind of company.”

Tommy felt his heart do a little flip at that, a warmth spreading through him that was both unfamiliar and strangely comforting. Evan didn’t really like movies, but he wanted to watch them anyway. With him. Together. Probably cuddled together so close they’d be about to fuse into a single person. It took all of Tommy’s willpower to not throw Evan over his shoulder and carry him to the nearest movie theater.

“Oh, so now it’s up to me to educate you, huh?” he teased instead, nudging Evan again. He could already imagine it: the two of them on a couch, a bowl of popcorn between them, his arm around Evan’s shoulders, the two of them laughing or crying or raging over some silly RomCom Tommy would undoubtedly choose. (Not ‘Love Actually’ yet. Evan had to experience that movie during Christmas time, under a warm, cozy blanket with massive cups of hot chocolate with marshmallows.)

“I mean, you brought it up,” Evan said, his grin softening, eyes meeting Tommy’s with an earnestness that made Tommy’s breath hitch. “Plus, you actually know where to start. I’d have no idea.”

Tommy chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief at how easily Evan could tease him and be earnest all at once. It was this effortless mix of playfulness and sincerity that drew Tommy in. He'd spent so long compartmentalizing his own life—work, family, dating—and here was Evan, breezing into his world with the potential to make everything feel seamless.

“Alright, I’ll pick a good one for next time. Prepare for your mind to be blown,” Tommy said, his tone light but his gaze lingering on Evan’s face. He let the moment stretch, comfortable in the shared silence as they continued their walk. The city bustled around them, but it felt like they were in their own little bubble, untouchable by the noise and chaos of everyday life.

Evan smiled back, a soft, almost shy smile that made Tommy’s heart stutter, and tentatively reached out to Tommy’s hand, but then quickly pulled back at the slightest brush of their fingers. The contact was brief, but long enough for Tommy to feel a jolt of electricity run through his body. Evan, red-faced, cleared his throat. “I, uh, I’ll hold you to that. But just so you know, I’m picky.”

“Noted,” Tommy said, trying to sound casual, but he couldn’t help the way his voice softened. He hadn’t even thought about it, but now that it had almost happened, he really wanted to hold Evan’s hand. He fought the urge to grab it though. Evan had said he wasn’t sure what he was ready for. Showing PDA with a man might’ve been too much. “We can hold hands. You know, if you want to.”

Evan looked up, eyes widening slightly as if Tommy had read his mind. He hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering between Tommy’s face and the space between them, before slowly extending his hand again. This time, Tommy met him halfway, their fingers brushing once more before finally interlocking. Evan’s grip was tentative at first, like he was still testing the waters, but when Tommy gave a gentle squeeze, Evan relaxed, his thumb brushing lightly against Tommy’s knuckles.

Tommy’s heart raced, and he could feel the slightest tremor in Evan’s hand. It was a small gesture in theory, but Tommy knew that this was monumental for Evan. He had only just discovered and come to terms with his sexuality, and had completely freaked out just a few days ago when their first date had been crashed by his best friend. Holding hands with another man in public was big for him.

“You good?” Tommy asked softly, glancing sideways at Evan. He tried to sound casual, but there was an edge of vulnerability in his voice. He needed to know that this was okay, that Evan was comfortable and not pushing himself too far too fast.

Evan nodded, his cheeks still flushed but his smile genuine. “Yeah, I’m good. Better than good, actually.” He took a deep breath, as if he was trying to solidify the moment in his mind, etching the feeling of their joined hands into his memory. “It’s…nice. Really nice.”

Tommy felt a swell of affection that almost took him by surprise. This was new territory for both of them, and it was exhilarating and terrifying all at once. He was used to charging headfirst into danger, running into burning buildings and flying into storms, but this, this simple act of holding Evan’s hand, felt like the bravest thing he’d done in a long time. It was vulnerable and honest, and it was everything Tommy had been afraid to hope for.

They continued their walk, the rhythm of their footsteps syncing as if their bodies had quietly agreed on a shared pace. The sun wandered further across the sky, casting long shadows that danced across the pavement, and Tommy couldn’t help but steal glances at Evan. He was struck by how natural this felt, like they’d been doing it for years, like they hadn’t literally just talked about how they didn’t really know each other maybe an hour ago. Tommy wondered if he should count this as a sign. He didn’t even believe in God, or any other deity, but still. The universe telling him he was doing something right was a nice thought.

Evan glanced up, catching Tommy’s eye, and gave him a sheepish smile. “You keep looking at me like that, I might start thinking you like me.”

Tommy snorted, squeezing Evan’s hand again. “Oh, I’m pretty sure it’s more than just ‘like’ at this point. But don’t get ahead of yourself, alright? We’ve still got a whole list of red flags to go through. Might be a dealbreaker or two in there.”

Evan chuckled, his eyes sparkling with a mix of amusement and something warmer, deeper. “I think I’m willing to risk it,” he said quietly, his voice almost lost in the hum of the city around them. “Besides, we’ve got time, right?”

Tommy nodded, feeling the weight of those words settle into his chest. They did have time, and it was a luxury Tommy wasn’t used to indulging in. His job was unpredictable, and he’d seen too many lives cut short, too many futures that never got a chance to be. But here and now, with Evan’s hand in his, the future felt like something he could reach out and touch, something he could build, slowly but surely, step by step.

“Yeah. We’ve got time.”

[aklaustaleteller]

An Unofficial Date

Klaus has had a certain starry-eyed girl on his mind, so when he walks into a museum, not at all with the hope of finding her inside, he can't help but strike up a conversation, which might've just led to Y/n agreeing to see him again.

Warnings - none that I can think of!

Word Count - 1.6k

Masterlist | Please reblog the work to share!

Been writing something that has had me researching left, right, and center! So I thought that while I worked on that one, I'd write a quick little something to freshen up a tad. Hope you enjoy a giddy Klaus hahah!

On a random, foggy Tuesday morning, Klaus found himself taking a quick stroll to the new Art Museum that had appeared out of nowhere in Mystic Falls. Well, for him anyways, for he hadn't come across the building in the months that he had been existing in the small town.

But one couldn't fault him for that, seeing that he had been so busy messing with a group of teenagers, or rather – with a couple of centuries old vampires, a newborn werewolf, and even a newfound witch, should he say.

But what took up most of his time was this starry-eyed girl with whom his eyes always seemed to meet whenever they were in the same room. That was all he got, though. The chance to look into her eyes for a fleeting second before she was shifting her gaze onto something else, leaving him breathless and wanting for more.

He never caught her name, or even a smile. Each time he saw her, he had been in search for a muse. And each time, she succeeded in sending a surge of creativity flowing through his entire being that consumed him so fully that he would race home and embrace that rush of adrenaline until he needed more.

Then, he would go out to steal another glance at her. The problem was, he hadn't been seeing her around for a week now. And he was anxious that she might've left the town, for she was the type of person whose absence went unnoticed for all but those who'd even once shared her company.

So, he felt a bit hopeful since he hadn't heard of Damon or Bonnie complaining about their loss of time with her. But he was also dreadful, wanting nothing more than to meet with her again knowing that this time he wouldn’t miss the chance to speak to her.

If Klaus had to be honest, he'd confess that the sole reason he was even heading to the museum was because he had a feeling that this could be one of the places he'd find her.

On his walk, he came across wildflowers and rose bushes, a couple of pinecones and a odd looking lemon tree, that stood lonely in midst of all the fog that had settled around it. And Klaus wondered if she paid attention to such details, if he should pick out a rose in case he did come across her? But he settled on not doing that, since that would surely give him away instantly.

He strolled through the corridors, sparing each art piece a single glance because he couldn't feel the emotions of looking at them for the first time and the curiousity of trying to unwind the stories in them due to his ages old knowledge that proved the collection in this museum to be quite poor.

There were a few people inside, a few dreamers scattered throughout the place, either sitting on the floor, sketching out what they could see in the painting or standing as if trying to count the stars, their eyes set on complicated pieces that pretentiously twisted the wires of their brains.

His eyes were wandering, and he was people watching now, rather than looking at the art that hung in frames. Which is how, there was a stutter in the search of his eyes when he caught sight of someone sitting against a wall opposite a painting, dressed in something quite vintage with a bowl of blackberries in their lap. A smile threatened to slip on his mouth.

He suppressed it though, looking at the ground to wait-out the disappearance of his blush before he squared his shoulders.

"Hello there," Klaus smiled, looking down at her and nodding when he had her attention. "Think I've seen you around?"

She broke a smile then, a small frown settling between her brows. "Hi, and …think I’ve witnessed a couple instances myself!" She laughed, her palm twitching awkwardly as she battled whether she should continue to eat, offer him some or wipe her stained hands on her thrifted dress.

She offered him to sit beside her instead, and then offered him her snack.

"Why thank you," Klaus murmured, his heart racing inside his chest the moment he caught a whiff of her perfume.

"I'm Niklaus, by the way."

She looked at him intriguingly, swallowing as she nodded to herself. "That's a nice name," she admitted. "Any meaning behind it?"

Klaus looked away, pretending to look at the painting in front of them in order to hide the sudden blood-rush to his face.

"Yes, yes it does," he said. "It comes from a Greek word, um, Nikolaos, I think? Means victory of the people."

"Well, I'm Y/n," she extended her clean hand out and Klaus shook it, electricity coursing through his being.

He sighed and locked his arms around his knees.

"So, Y/n," he tasted her name on his tongue and right away, wanted more of it. "What are you doing here?"

"Nothing special, been writing a thesis lately. Came here for a break and some change of scenery," she shrugged.

"A thesis?" Klaus asked, feeling intrigued and when she nodded nonchalantly, he felt baffled. "On what, if you don't mind me asking?"

She was smiling bashfully now, looking down at the remaining blackberries. "You'll laugh," she said.

"And why would that be?"

She clenched her eyes shut. "Because it's on hotels," she raced to say, peeking at him with one eye to see his reaction. He wasn't laughing so she looked at him properly, dumbfounded, noting that his expression was the same as before, if not more interested.

"Tell me more about it," Klaus asked, leaning his head on his knee to look at her.

She was blushing, and Klaus made a mental note to try and get the shade right on his canvas when he went back home.

"Well, it's going to be a tangent, so don't complain, okay?" She looked at him warily. He blinked softly, urging her on and she felt something shift between them.

"You asked for this," she sighed, and he chuckled, picking up another berry as she turned so that she was facing him, sitting cross-legged with a straight back.

She went on then, and Klaus was absorbing every single word that she was saying along with her wild hand-gestures that he felt like were going to hit him at some point. He noticed the sparkle in her eyes doubling-up as she talked about something she clearly felt passionate about.

Her cheeks had grown slightly red, and her mouth was stained by the blackberries. She mentioned how she had an even softer spot for haunted houses and hotels, making him grin with her.

It felt vulnerable for some reason, and Klaus' heart felt like it was growing inside of his chest.

She was spilling for him all of the research she had done so far, and it was admirable how well she was doing at explaining to him all of it. He wasn't sure if he was going to be able to look at the hotels the same way again, knowing now the way she looked at them.

And he knew that he was going to pester her again sometime and ask her about the gold chain that she wore, in the middle of which hung a glass globe that held something in the shape of a star preserved inside it. He had a feeling that everything that adorned her body held some meaning to it for her. 

"And I think that's all I've got on it, so far anyways," she finished with a deep breath, looking at him with a big grin on her face. She had lipstick on her bottom teeth, or maybe it was just the berrie’s stain; Klaus looked away.

"I think I have a newfound soft-spot for hotels now," Klaus sighed, straightening his back and leaning against the wall, craning his neck to look at her.

"I'm so very glad to hear that," she chuckled. "My apologies for talking your ear off, but hey, you asked for it!"

"I've got a feeling that I might ask for it again," he winked, and she looked away immediately, the corners of her mouth lifted up.

"Can't be now because I need to get going," she shrugged, checking her wristwatch whose leather band was beginning to wither off.

"Sure, think I wasted some of your time there," grinning sheepishly, Klaus rubbed the back of his neck.

But she laughed as she packed away her book and the empty container back into her bag. "No, Klaus, thank you for listening," she said, genuinely.

"Anytime," Klaus muttered shyly, watching as she got up and waved him goodbye.

Klaus waved back with a wistful smile, watching her walk away when he suddenly realised.

"When will I see you again?" He shouted, ignoring the incredulous looks he got from the strangers. He slipped his hands in his pockets and shrugged when she turned around to look at him with wide eyes.

"I love taking evening walks around the neighbourhood," she said at a normal volume, and Klaus heard her just right.

He was going to be delusional and tell him himself that today had been an unofficial date, maybe he'd ask her out for an official one when he saw her the next time.

He nodded at her, giving her a salute as he rolled on the toe and then the heels of his feet, grinning shamelessly as she laughed and walked away, sparing him one last glance before turning around the corner, out of his sight but not once out of his mind.

[chrissweatytoes]

SAFE WORD

WARNING INCLUDES: overstim, fingering, oral fem!receiving, unprotected sex (use protection kids), use of a safe word, degradation, use of pet names (baby, slut, ma, mamas). ENJOY!!

word count: 1.2k

⋆౨ৎ⋆ᡣ𐭩⋆౨ৎ⋆ᡣ𐭩⋆౨ৎ⋆ᡣ𐭩⋆౨ৎ⋆ᡣ𐭩⋆౨ৎ⋆ᡣ𐭩⋆౨ৎ⋆ᡣ𐭩⋆౨ৎ⋆ᡣ𐭩⋆౨ৎ⋆ᡣ𐭩⋆౨ৎ⋆ᡣ𐭩⋆౨ৎ⋆ᡣ𐭩⋆౨ৎ⋆

BLURB - pairing chris sturniolo x fem!reader

softdom!chris who couldn’t get enough of you tonight… he’s already made you finish 3 times but this time you said no more…

chris and i always know our safe word, both of us know that we can use it, but we never have. we just never get too… into it.

i was laying in bed on my phone while chris was (surprise surprise), getting a pepsi from the fridge. i knew what i was wearing was a bit skimpy but i didn’t think it mattered, he hadn’t been looking at my body at all tonight… i stand up out of bed and look in the mirror next to chris’ desk, checking myself out, realising that chris’ shirt is the only thing im wearing other than lacy pink panties revealing my whole ass. i walk back over to his bed and grab my phone. i take a few moments to take some mirror pics and send them to chris, knowing he’s active on his phone. i stay on imessage to see when he sees the slutty photos i sent. as soon as i see that he’s seen the photos i hear huge, loud footsteps running up the stairs, the sound thumping through my head. when i hear the door creek open i quickly turn around.

“hi baby!” i go to walk over to him but he stops me, grabbing onto my waist and pulling my hips against his. chris immediately crashes his lips into mine, not pulling away until im sat on the end of the bed, shirtless.

“lay down, shirt off.” he says bluntly, swiftly ripping my shirt off and softly pushing my shoulder. now laying on chris’ bed in light pink panties and my bare chest facing him, it’s hard not to notice the massive bulge in chris’ pants and the fact he can’t stop staring at my tits.

“turn around. now.” i do as he says knowing that if chris is mad and horny nothing will stop him. i face the head of the bed on my hands and knees. i feel a light breeze of air hit my skin before his large hands slap across my ass.

“oww! chris!” i let out, then regretted it. “fuck.” i think to myself. telling him that it hurts is just going to make him do it more. “shit.”

i feel the tug of him ripping my panties down, feeling my juices drip down my thigh.

“shit ma, so wet already? you’re such a little slut you know that? sending me those pictures… what’d you think was going to happen?” i keep quiet, my light whimpering as the cold air hits my swollen folds. this only seems to turn him on more… 

“on your back mamas” i turn myself around to lie on my back, my eyes looking directly at his. my body tenses as he shoves one finger inside me.

“fuck chris, not even any warning?” i drag my hand down to my clit attempting to build up my orgasm when he stops me, grabbing my wrists and taking off his belt, he ties them together. usually chris isn’t into bondage but tonight he’s completely different.

“m-more chris, please”

“are you gonna be a good girl?” i nod my head instantly, biting my lip in preparation for a second finger.

“mhm, if you say so. you better fucking be good. okay?” with ease he slips another finger inside me. my quiet whimpers turn into pornographic moans.

as i approach my high, chris moves his other hand from my hips, to my bundle of nerves, fast and swift with his movements.

“c-close…” i manage to say over my laboured breaths.

“come for me ma.” his words itself sends me over the edge, my body squirming as my slick drips onto his fingers. he licks his fingers, not wanting to miss even a drop of come.

“mmh you taste so fucking good baby,” chris kneels down on his knees, prying my legs apart and holding my thighs.

“c-chris?”

“yes sweetheart? too sensitive? well this is what you get for being such a little slut. you’re my slut hm?” he looks up at me through his lashes, all innocent looking. with no warning at all he brings his tongue up to my warm, and wet cunt. licking up all of my previous orgasms evidence.

i lift my head just enough to see chris’ face buried in my pussy.

“mhmm chris. yes! right there baby…” my moans mixed with the slurping sound fills the air.

chris shoots his fingers into my warm cunt and his lips latch onto my bean.

the thrusting of his fingers speed up as he watches my legs shake, struggling to hold on any more.

“s-so close…” with one more thrust, i released for the second time.

“shit ma, you taste so good… you did great baby, you think you can go again?” he lifts his head from my crotch, my juices all over his face.

i nod my head, unsure if i can go another round or not.

“i can try…”

“you can do it baby, just relax.” he unzips his jeans and lets them pool at his ankles. he then rips down his boxers, strokes his length a few times letting his pre-cum drip onto the bed sheets and then finally lines himself up with my pussy. he slowly starts letting his brick hard cock explore my warm cunt. 

my whimpers grow into moans once his dick is finally all the way in.

“this okay?” he looks down at me with a scared look in his eyes, i can sense he’s worried about me.

i nod my head “mhm hm”

he picks up the pace and starts thrusting inside me. my tits are bouncing along to his rough rhythm. chris moves his hands to my hips, pressing hard enough to leave marks. as much as i want to touch him and pull his hair, i know how much it’s turning him on seeing my hands tied together.

“need… to… cum…” 

“cum f’me, cum with me.” his words tip me over the edge, his movements become uneven and slower as he finishes inside me.

“fuck chris…” i say as he pulls out slowly.

“let me clean you up…” chris pulls up his boxers and jeans, kneeling again as he brings his mouth back up to my pussy.

“no, chris… i can’t.” this doesn’t stop him. he looks at me briefly. a hungry look in his eyes he lowers his head and starts sucking on my clit.

“chris stop.” i say bluntly trying to move away but his grip on my hips is too hard. he continues with his movements, not a care in the world.

“flash!” this stops him immediately.

“shit baby i’m so sorry…” he pulls away from my crotch and wipes his mouth on my shirt that now lays next to me.

“i’m so fucking sorry… i didn’t know you wanted me to stop so bad.” chris leans over me and unbuckles his belt that's holding my wrists in place. he crawls into bed and taps his chest, signalling for me to lay with him.

“it’s okay,i’m okay, don't worry. can we run a bath soon?” i crawl into his arms, pulling the duvet up to cover my naked body. 

“sure baby, soon. i just want to hold you for a bit… i’m so sorry if i hurt you.” 

⋆౨ৎ⋆ᡣ𐭩⋆౨ৎ⋆ᡣ𐭩⋆౨ৎ⋆ᡣ𐭩⋆౨ৎ⋆ᡣ𐭩⋆౨ৎ⋆ᡣ𐭩⋆౨ৎ⋆ᡣ𐭩⋆౨ৎ⋆ᡣ𐭩⋆౨ৎ⋆ᡣ𐭩⋆౨ৎ⋆ᡣ𐭩⋆౨ৎ⋆ᡣ𐭩⋆౨ৎ⋆

hey ya'llllll! i hope you enjoyed. this was my first time writing smut so ik its not gonna be great but i hope it was good enough! please honestly tell me what you though about this and what you wanna see in the future 💕

with love, mals x

[sunny44]

No expectations

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Neighbor reader

Warnings: just fluff

Summary: after the day he saw Y/n alone at the restaurant, he thought it would be nice to do something for her.

Part 1

The following days after the restaurant dinner were tough for Y/n. I saw her every morning, as usual, when I left my apartment. But something was different. The smile that used to light up her face was gone, her eyes looked tired, and the contagious energy she always carried with her had vanished. She wasn’t the same person I used to see every day in the elevator, always ready with a witty comment or a brief conversation.

I knew it had to do with the disastrous date. As much as she tried to hide it, it was clear the situation had deeply hurt her. And, as much as I wanted to do something to cheer her up, I didn’t know exactly how.

After seeing her return from work once again with that sad expression, I made a decision. I couldn’t just stand by and watch her sink into that sadness. I took a deep breath, walked to her apartment door, and knocked.

She opened the door, and for a moment, the exhaustion and sadness in her eyes disappeared, replaced by surprise. “Max? What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to invite you out,” I began, trying to sound casual. “Nothing complicated, just dinner to help you relax a bit.”

She looked at me for a long moment, and the surprise in her eyes turned into something darker.

“Max, the last thing I need right now is a guy inviting me out out of pity. And honestly, I’m not in the mood to go to a restaurant just to be humiliated again.”

I could see the pain behind her words, and I understood that this wasn’t just about me. It was about everything that had happened to her recently.

“It’s not out of pity, Y/n,” I said, my voice firm. “I just thought you might enjoy having dinner in a place where you know you’ll be treated well. I was thinking… at my place. No restaurants, no expectations, just dinner between friends.”

She hesitated, her eyes studying my face, trying to figure out if my intentions were genuine. Finally, she sighed and nodded.

“Alright, but no complications, okay?”

“No complications,” I promised with a smile.

***

After she agreed, I returned to my apartment, trying to hide the panic that was starting to build. I had invited Y/n to dinner, but there was a huge problem: I didn’t know how to cook.

I called the only person who could help me: my mom.

“Mom, I need help,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm.

“Max, what happened?” The concern in her voice made me smile.

“I invited a friend over for dinner… and I don’t know what to do.” My mom laughed softly on the other end of the line.

“You’ve always been a disaster in the kitchen,” she said, laughing.

“Stop laughing at me and help me.”

“Alright, you sound nervous. Is this friend just a friend?”

���Yes, just a friend,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“And do you like her in another way?”

“Mom, that’s not important right now.”

“It is important, I want more grandkids.”

“But for that, I need a girlfriend, so focus on helping me with the food.”

“Okay, I’ll help you. Let’s start with something simple. How about lasagna?”

I quickly agreed, and she guided me step by step. It wasn’t easy, but with her help, I managed to prepare the lasagna. I put the dish in the oven, and when the timer started counting down, I heard the doorbell ring.

I rushed to the door, still feeling a little nervous. When I opened it, Y/n was standing there, looking a bit less sad than in the past few days, which made me feel like I was doing the right thing.

“Come in, make yourself at home,” I said, giving her space to enter. “I’ll just take a quick shower and be right back. I got delayed while making dinner.”

She nodded, and I headed to the bathroom. As the hot water ran over me, I couldn’t stop thinking about what was happening. I had invited Y/n to dinner at my place, and even though I didn’t know how to cook, I was determined to make this night special for her.

When I got out of the shower and returned to the living room, I found a scene that made my heart race. Y/n had set the table and was sitting on the couch with Jimmy, my cat, comfortably nestled in her lap. Sassy, my other cat, was lying beside her, purring softly.

“You’ve already met the real owners of the house,” I joked, walking over.

She smiled, petting Jimmy’s fur. “They’re adorable. I think they’ve won my heart.”

“Well, I hope the food wins it too,” I replied, feeling a bit more confident.

She laughed, and the sound warmed the room. “I trust you, Max.”

“Trust my mom, she was the real chef,” I admitted, which made her laugh even more.

We placed the lasagna on the table and sat down to eat.

As we ate, the comfortable silence began to shift into a quiet curiosity in Y/n's eyes. She put her fork down for a moment, tilted her head, and looked at me with a mix of hesitation and sincerity.

"Max, I have to ask... why did you do this? The dinner, the invitation... you didn't have to go through all this trouble."

I sighed, knowing that question was coming eventually. I looked at her, feeling the need to be completely honest.

"After that disastrous dinner at the restaurant, I knew you didn't deserve to go through that," I began, searching for the right words. "I know it wasn’t my business, but seeing you there, alone, waiting for someone who never showed up... I couldn't get that out of my head. Even if this dinner wasn't with me, I wanted to make it up to you somehow. I wanted you to have a good night, a moment where someone cared."

She looked away for a second, as if absorbing what I said. When she looked back at me, there was a hidden sadness in her smile.

"That’s... really kind of you, Max. But to be honest, things like that happen to me all the time." She toyed with her food absentmindedly before continuing. "My relationships have always been horrible. No matter how much I try, it feels like it's never enough. And after a while, you start to wonder... is it me? Is it because I’m not worth the effort?"

Her eyes glistened in a way that made me want to reach out and hold her hand, but I knew she needed that space to open up.

"I feel... insufficient, you know? Whenever I’m in a relationship, I’m always the one left behind. It seems like no one is willing to put in even a little effort for me. And that hurts."

I stayed silent for a moment, processing her words, feeling the weight of it all. It was hard to imagine how someone like Y/n, always so vibrant and full of life, could feel so small because of others.

"Y/n," I began, choosing my words carefully, "the problem was never you. The problem is those people who don’t see how much you’re worth. You’re amazing, and if someone isn’t willing to fight for you, then that person doesn’t deserve you, not for a single second."

She looked at me, surprised by the intensity of my words, and then smiled, a genuine smile, though a little sad.

"Thank you, Max. That means a lot to me." She smiled. “I think you’re the first guy that has put so much effort on something for me.”

“That makes me the only smart one then.”

She laughed.

The dinner was simple but pleasant, and I noticed that, little by little, the sparkle in Y/n’s eyes was returning. She still bore the marks of the disappointment she had suffered, but, at least that night, she seemed to be finding some peace.

And as I watched her, interacting with my cats and laughing at my cooking attempts, one thing became clear to me: I would do anything to keep seeing that smile.

Bonus scene!

Yourusername Instagram stories

“It feels good to be treated like a princess sometimes”

[blamemma]

"...I can't till after the weekend, that's when decisions will be made. Us that know the contract, that's where the dates fall, yep, after the weekend we'll know more." - On contract rumours. "I hoped for more, obviously from myself, but I also think that, around Montreal, when the pressure was definitely building and ramping up, since then, it's certainly been more positive than not, so that's what I'll keep trying to do..." - On how his season has gone so far. "I was in this position with McLaren, you build a little bit of tolerance, a thick skin, but also I am not the only one, one week it's me, the next week it's another driver that's fighting for their career. It's also just how it goes. It's the merry go round of the sport..." - On the media attention and speculation

- Daniel Ricciardo speaks to Will Buxton ahead of the Singapore Grand Prix

[mosneakers]

Coraleye: Wait, Erwin! Slow down! It's hard running in these heels! Erwin: We have to hurry. They're already setting up. Erwin leads Coraleye around the building’s exterior to the circular section of the rooftop balcony, where a single podium and various equipment are set up for Jill Smith’s speech. Between surveillance and drone footage, every movement's tracked.

Erwin: They can take any form they want, Cor—the aliens. Shapeshifters, ok? They could be your roommate, your best friend, even a lover— and you'd never suspect a thing. Coraleye suddenly becomes hyperaware of the balcony's height. She forces a queasy smile, trying to pacify his nerves. Coraleye: [Soft, soothing tone] Erwin, honey, maybe we shouldn't be so close to the railing, huh? Let's go find somewhere to sit down... She softly reaches for his hand, holding it firmly. Erwin: Just— just let me finish, ok? And if you ever did find out? They'd completely wipe your memory. Instantly. They control the whole narrative. They're horrible to simkind; they abduct, experiment, impregnate, and even kill, Coraleye.

Camera crews, security, and staff begin to trickle in, preparing for the media coverage. Coraleye’s eyes well up with tears, her body trembling. Coraleye: They're not all like that, though! Rorie? She's just an innocent baby... Erwin: That's because the Big Greys up there? [Points to the sky] Their goal is to blend human and alien DNA over generations. Seems like they're trying to create the ideal beings. Halflings like Rorie are part of this process, but their ultimate plans? Well we can only speculate. Coraleye: How did you figure all this out?

Erwin: [Takes a deep breath] Well, Darling, I have reason to believe they've infiltrated our lives. I've been quietly stashing evidence, and the evidence has been piling up.

Coraleye: Erwin...I... Erwin: Anyone you know who seems just too perfect? Like suspiciously flawless? The Big Greys—they’ve got these emissaries here on Earth, born and raised for the job. Planted here to reproduce with humans... essentially breeders.

Coraleye: No, no, no...

Erwin: Think about it, Corie. Haven't you noticed? There's always something a little bit off about Coni. Remember that time when we— [voice trails off]

Coraleye: When we... Erwin? That time when we what, Erwin?

Erwin: In Britechester... —my ears... they’re... they're ringing...

Coraleye: Erwin! Are you okay?

Erwin: Coraleye, I think... —GET BACK! NOW!

Coraleye: What? Why? Erwin? Please! WHAT'S GOING ON? ERWIN!

[vigilskeep]

do you have any refs for Minerva’s relationship with the other dao companions? I did not realize she and leliana was estranged 😭 also if im remembering correctly she makes loghain do the dark ritual? sorry I do like spinning her around in my head and knowing the little details she’s such a great character!!

leliana and minerva did not have a clear breakup in the alistair minerva sense but they did grow apart because of the simple reason that post dao minerva becomes politically at odds with the chantry while leliana is serving its leader. leliana is not a type of person minerva finds very easy to like or trust so while they did grow on each other over the course of dao they never had a simple friendship in the first place

alistair you probably know about bc its kind of the cornerstone of minervaposting but theres a post fully explaining it not much further down in her tag

zevran is her romance <3 i hesitate to use the word “soulmates” exactly but they definitely fit together in a way no other minerva pairing could match

morrigan she has a weird close complicated vaguely homosexual friendship with, i’m sure this is par for the course for f!wardens. they probably could have been in love if morrigan had been willing to pursue it in the start and if minerva hadn’t already gone for someone else by the end, and all that is unspoken but very present in everything about them

sten is i guess kind of the typical high approval relationship as presented in game? not much more unique. a lot of respect a lot of arguing a lot of dry humour. they could hang out in silence comfortably and they’re also both know and respect that they’re very capable of killing the other if their greater purposes ever demand it

oghren she kind of doesn’t pay much mind in origins when she doesn’t have to but he becomes part of the family in awakening. they bond over having their insane shared experiences of the blight, and also over him trying to quit drinking and her trying to quit blood magic which leads to some really wild out of context conversations for the others. and hey, eventually over first attempting to parent at similar times

wynne she has a bit of a sharp relationship with. i think this could vary a lot if i pick her up earlier, but in my main minerva playthrough i picked her up late by which time minerva had absolutely no fucking interest in getting the kind of lectures she grew up with. sorry grandma </3

uhhhh who else. shale idk man im sorry for being a fake fan but shale’s dlc truly does nothing for me it’s unfunny and i dont think abt it at all 💔 this would be written in less harsh terms if i wasnt sleepy

loghain is. well that’s a kettle of fish. minerva spares him because it happens to be a preferable move for her agenda and her way of thinking, it’s not rlly about him as a person at all. she doesn’t absolve him of anything he did, like, she still thinks he’s a bastard it’s just that she doesn’t really believe at all in the concept of justice being done if it doesn’t serve a purpose. when he’s in the party they do build up respect and a weird kind of friendship. he sucks and she’s bitter about what sparing him cost her, but that isn’t relevant, it’s not going to stop her learning from him, or fighting at his side as the best team she can quickly make them, or simply finding him entertaining to talk to. so by the end it’s as a friend that she asks him to do the dark ritual, whatever that means. post dao she agrees with weisshaupt that him being assigned outside of ferelden is wise but they continue to write to each other extremely regularly, mostly on matters of news and strategy but occasionally on the more personal

is that everyone i think thats everyone