#i was behind enemy lines for a minute there

[whytheylosttheirminds]

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

❄️ a frat!rafe cameron holiday mini series ❄️

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

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

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

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

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

You: what’s up?

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

You: does he live near us?

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

You: yeah then i guess that’s cool!!

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

Brodyyy <3: cookie day?

You: exactly, u get me

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

You: np!

You: what’s his name btw?

Brodyyy <3: …

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

Brodyyy <3: rafe

You: be so fr rn

You: as in cameron???

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

Hour one

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know,” you said dryly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Time to bring it home, he thought.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hour two

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah? Like who?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Gaslit? Me? You’re crazy…” he said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Like you know me at all.”

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

“Oh have you?” Your eyebrows shot up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hour three

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

Rafe snored. Loudly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hmm?”

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

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

“Try me,” he said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

“Why?” you asked.

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

Hour four

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ah, you pimping your ride?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What kind of animal was -”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is that a yes?” he continued. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Watch out!” You shrieked suddenly.

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

“Fuck!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh, a little privacy please?” 

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

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

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

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

Hour five

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

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

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

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

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

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

----❄----

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

“How much was it?” You asked.

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

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

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

Rafe looked in the bag with a confused grin.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You didn’t.

“Does your family have any traditions?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Almost immediately, he missed the sound of your voice. 

Hour six

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

Hour seven

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

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

“Oh my god!!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I said I’d get you to the ferry…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m gonna kill you,” you mumbled.

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

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

----❄----

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

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

“What is it?” He questioned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You smiled softly, giving him a grateful nod.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

----❄----

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

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

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

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

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

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

----❄----

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

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

“You owe me a cookie.”

(part two)

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

for updates, follow @whytheylosttheirminds-works and turn on notifs. to be tagged, just ask in the replies or send me an ask!

taglist: @itneverendshere @rafediaries @promiscuousg1rl @eolsens @inlovewrafe

[lovebugism]

Someone knocks at the door while you and rockstar!Eddie are fucking and instead of stopping he goes faster while yelling ‘In a minute’ to the person at the door

the one where your friends keep catching you and eddie having sex (rockstar!eddie universe, established relationship, implied enemies to lovers, cw for smut 18+)

Let it be known, that it would take a nearly apocalyptic nuclear war — or something rapture adjacent, at the very least — for Eddie Munson to stop fucking you. Most people have learned this the hard way. You included.

You’re a panting mess beneath his pale, tattooed form. Eddie’s body, made of milky white silk, grows slick with a fine layer of sweat as he thrusts mercilessly into you. His curls sway around your face each time his lean hips collide with your open thighs. The dull clapping sound that fills the bedroom is punctuated by Eddie’s choked-back groans and your subdued whimpers.

The two of you always make it a point to be polite about your fucking — never quite as loud as you want to be, so as to keep from traumatizing your roommates. Like respectful adults. So it’s entirely Steve’s fault when he barges in with a halfhearted knock like a total psycho.

“Hey, do you guys wanna—” The boy freezes at the sight of his best friends, in a pile beneath the covers, who before now hated each other’s guts. His face screws together like he’s tasted something sour. “Jesus Christ…”

Eddie ceases his thrusts to toss Steve a look over his freckled shoulder. He never moves off of you, effectively shielding your naked body from his view, nor does he pull his stiff cock from your pulsing confines. Much to your horror.

“What?” the wild-haired boy wonders through labored breaths, face flushed red with sex.

“I was gonna ask if you guys wanted to come to the movies with me and Robin,” Steve answers with a roll of his eyes, already on his way out. “But you’re obviously busy—”

“Wait— That new buddy cop movie?” Eddie calls to the boy’s retreating form.

“Eddie!” you hiss through your teeth, filled with panic and distant pleasure, ‘cause the idiot’s trying to have a conversation like he isn’t balls deep inside you. He flashes you a wide-eyed chocolate stare like he’s innocent. “Stop,” you mouth to him.

“Yeah. Start’s at eight.”

“Well, don’t leave us, alright?” he tells him. “We’re coming.”

“Gross,” Steve mumbles and shuts the door behind him.

Eddie turns back to you. His curly bangs are damp with sweat and sticking to his forehead in places. His glowing cheeks are tinted a faint pink color. His lips are swollen and rosy as they curl into a smirk. Sex is written all over his face, painfully so. 

“That pun wasn’t intended, by the way—” Eddie jokes before you swat at his lanky bicep. “Ow!”

—————

A year or more later, you and Corrodded Coffin are selling out venues across the country. The world is a whole lot bigger than The Hideout, apparently. ‘Cause, as it turns out, more than just a couple of drunks care about seeing your band play. 

Somewhere down the line, you and the lead guitarist of said band are more serious about each other than you ever planned to be — much to the dismay of the rest of your bandmates. Not because they hadn’t spent years waiting for you guys to get together (they most definitely had), but because it was virtually impossible to have privacy while living on a tour bus.

Despite your feeble efforts to stay as subtle as possible, it’s dreadfully apparent when you and Eddie are fucking. The door to the bunks slides slowly shut, and Jeff and Gareth wait with walkmans over their ears until it opens again. This time, they flip a coin to decide who has to interrupt.

Gareth loses (‘cause Gareth always loses) and curses under his breath while he knocks on the closed door. 

“Do you guys want food?” you hear him ask over the heavy breathing in your ear. “That fancy ramen place across the bar just offered us dinner.” 

Meanwhile, Eddie Munson is riddled with post-show adrenaline as he all but fucks you stupid. His curly hair is as wild as his glassy eyes, now smokey around the edges with smudged black liner. He keeps his chest flush to your spine as he pounds into you with a primal sort of vigor — one ringed hand curled in your hair, the other gripping the plush of your hip.

“Nah, man!” he calls back, choppy through labored breaths, ‘cause he never stops thrusting into you. You’d be worried about the quiet clapping sound of his hips against your ass if your head weren’t so fuzzy. “We’re good!”

The promise of food reminds you that you haven’t eaten since earlier that day. Suddenly, you’re overcome with unexpected hunger and looming pleasure. 

“Wait, Eds,” you pant. “Food actually sounds really good right now.”

Eddie rolls his eyes in response, even though you both know he’s gonna give you what you want either way. First, a leg-shaking orgasm that you’ll in feel in your limbs for a half hour after it’s over. Second, all the damn ramen you can eat.

“Fuck, fine— Okay, we’re coming!” Eddie shouts. “Just give us, like, ten minutes, will ya?!”

Gareth grumbles faintly from the other side of the sliding glass door. “Yes, master,” you hear him grouse as he stalks off back to the living area of the tour bus — where it’s safe. 

A laugh rumbles in Eddie’s chest as he starts fucking into you again. You bury a whine into your pillow when his balls slap your clit. He presses his mouth to your ear, and you feel his lips curling into a lopsided smile there. “You call me that, and we’ll be outta here in thirty seconds flat, sweetheart.”

[girllblogging777]

hi congrats on 1k!! can i please request a cinnamon tinged tale with mattheo riddle with a scenario where they have a fight and go to bed seperate but they both can’t sleep without each other!!

𝑈𝑁𝑆𝑃𝑂𝐾𝐸𝑁 𝑃𝑅𝑂𝑀𝐼𝑆𝐸𝑆 ˚ ༘✶

↳ bf!mattheo riddle x reader (angst, fluff)

↳ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡 : 1.5k

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦 :you and your boyfriend can’t sleep without eachother, but you had an argument

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

mattheo’s dorm was unnaturally quiet tonight. no whispers, no soft rustling of sheets, no stolen glances or quiet giggles. just silence, cold and deafening. he laid flat on his back, arms crossed behind his head, his jaw tense as he stared up at the dark ceiling of his room. the argument replaying in his mind on an endless, bitter loop.

he exhaled sharply through his nose. maybe he was an idiot like you had told him. scratch that. he definitely was. your words, heated and full of hurt, had ricocheted off the walls like a spell gone wrong. and instead of deflecting, instead of softening, he’d snapped back with the kind of sharpness he reserved for enemies. not for you. never for you.

but now you were gone. well, not gone-gone, but you weren’t here. you had stormed out of his dorm, muttering something about needing “space.” space. mattheo didn’t even know what to do with space.

his mind wandered to you. where were you now ? back in your own bed, curled up with that damn blanket you refused to replace no matter how many times he teased you about it? where you crying? did you hate him?

the ache in his chest tightened, like a hand gripping his heart. he turned to his side, punching the pillow beneath him in frustration. he needed you, your scent of cinnamon, your quiet murmurs before sleep, the way your hand would instinctively find his beneath the covers. without you, the room felt emptier than it had any right to.

across the castle, you sat cross-legged on your bed, staring out the window. the moon hung low, bathing the grounds in silver light, but your thoughts were anything but serene.

why had you said those things? you hadn’t meant to snap at him. it wasn’t his fault he was reckless, it was just who he was. you knew that, knew it better than anyone. but still, watching him flirt with danger, walking that fine line between thrill and disaster, it drove you insane. you cared too much to stay silent.

you sighed, hugging your knees to your chest. the bed felt too big, too cold without him. even on nights you two argued, you would always ended up tangled together, legs overlapping, breaths mingling. it was impossible to stay away from him and not to break the castle’s rules by sneaking into each other’s rooms past curfew. but tonight, you were alone.

minutes stretched into hours and you kept tossing and turning, thinking about him. at the same moment, mattheo swung his legs out of bed, running a hand through his messy curls. he didn’t care if he’d get caught. he didn’t care if you were still angry. he needed to see you.

suddenly, your bedroom door swung open and you turned around, eyes widening. “mattheo ?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. he stood there, unsure of what to say “i uh… i can’t sleep…”

“neither can i,” you admitted softly, watching him intently.

he stepped closer, his hand twitching at his sides. “i’m sorry, baby. i was a dick. you were just trying to look out for me and i lashed out, it wasn’t fair.”

your heart clenched at his honest words and you looked up at him, “i shouldn’t have pushed you, matt, i just worry about you too much. and sometimes, i feel like i care more about you than you do”

his brows furrowed and he finally reached out, his hand softly brushing against your cheek. “i do care. about me. about us. but i’m just… stupid sometimes.”

you couldn’t help but huff out a small laugh, leaning into his touch. “yup, you are.”

a ghost of a smile tugged at his lips. “does that mean i’m forgiven ?” you pretended to think a moment before answering, sighing. “only if you stay.”

and he didn’t need to be told twice.

moments later, you two were tangled together in your bed, your head resting on his chest as his fingered traced lazy, absentminded patterns on your back. neither of you spoke at first. the quiet felt sacred, too delicate to shatter. but mattheo couldn’t let it end there, not when he had so much to say.

“i don’t ever wanna go to bed mad at you again.” he murmured, his voice soft but heavy with meaning. his fingers stilled against your back, waiting for your response.

you tilted your head up, your chin resting on his chest as your eyes met his. “me neither,” you whispered back, “i hate how it feels, matt.”

he nodded, his hand moving to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over your soft skin in the dark. “i know, love,” he admitted, “it feels wrong. everything feels wrong without you. i’m sorry i made you feel like i don’t care.” he paused for a second and you waited, silent.

“i care, baby. i care so much if scares the hell out of me sometimes.”

you could see it in his eyes, the way his walls had crumbled entirely for you and how painful that felt for him. mattheo riddle, who always unshakeably confident, was laying himself bare for you.

“i know,” you said in a steady voice. you reached up, your hand curling around his wrist. “but i’ll keep worrying about you, you know ? that’s not gonna change..”

he chuckled, the sound now and warm in the quiet room. “i figured, love. i don’t deserve you.”

“damn right you don’t,” you teased, your lips twitching into a genuine smile. then your voice softened “ but that doesn’t mean i’m going anywhere.”

the tension in mattheo’s body eased at your words, and he pulled you closer, his arms wrapping tightly around you as to shield you from the world. you felt the way his lips brushed against the top of your head, a soft gesture that made your heart flutter.

“i love you,” he said quietly, the words slipping out as naturally as breathing.

“i love you too,” you whispered back, your fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt as your heart pounded against your chest.

for the first time that night, the heavy weight between you lifted and the two of you stayed like that, your breaths syncing and limbs tangled in complete and utter peace. because no matter how messy you were, how much you clashed or stumbled, you always found your way back to eachother.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

a/n : tysm for this amazing idea ! tell me if you wanna be tagged and check out my 1k celebration for more !

@redeemingvillains @leona-hawthorne @shiftingwithmars @tateshifts @rose-of-the-grave @clar2aa @iris-qt @sp7-mr @deadghosy @deadsnakey @helendeath @jolly4holly @larmesdevanille @dexoq @shiftingwithleah @sunkissedscribbles @chelawrites @myunperfektstorys @yikesitslush @slut-for-fictional-men @romantasyreader28 @witchsrecs @mattiesgf @reidol0gy @kenjikishimotoswifey @2dloveshp @hisparentsgallerryy @riddlesgrl

[spideyjimin]

✨ my all time favourites BTS fics ✨

⟶ soo i've been really wanting to do this for a while already but i didn't really have the time to do it… soo here you have all the fics that I deeply loved & that i sometimes still read again 🫶🏼those fics are really amazing & thanks a lot to the writers for those masterpieces! 💞

sweet | ksj @oddinary4bts

⤷ Drabble of idol Jin coming back from the military and trying to sort out his situationship with the girl he left behind when he went into the military

idol!au, a bit of angst, fluff and smut

meraki | jjk @taegularities

⤷ Jungkook finds you irritating; far too energetic and insistent. But his perception of you changes bit by bit, minute by minute, when he's persuaded into spending an entire night with you at places he doesn't know.

e2l, grumpy!jk (+ photographer!jk) x sunshine!reader; fluff, smut

motherfuckin' train wreck | jjk @lovieku

⤷ when renowned fuckboy jeon jeongguk catches feelings, he loses his mind. only when it comes to you, though.

fwb au

new guy | knj @kithtaehyung

⤷ all you want to do is have a successful meeting after experiencing dwindling attendance, but the new guy is completing disrupting things... or is he?

smut ; university au ; enemies to lovers?

into it | pjm @xpeachesncream

⤷ helping your bestfriend out with his research project happens to come with more than what you bargained for. 

grad school au, idiots to lovers au, strangers to lovers au, angst, smut

bands | jjk @xpeachesncream

⤷ jeon jungkook has it all: the looks, the fame, the money, the women. being considered the sexiest man in the industry, he finds no complaints about the way his life is going nor does he find any reason to apologize for the way he approaches it. he is a force to be reckoned with - until he meets you. 

strip club/nightlife au, post grad au, fluff, angst, smut

lowkey | jjk @xpeachesncream

⤷ in order to pass organic chemistry and pay off your car damages from an accident, all you have to do is help the nerd, jeon jungkook, with a few things: pretend to be his girlfriend and teach him the ways of dating.

college au, fake dating au, friends to lovers au | fluff, angst, smut

saudade | kth @chateautae

⤷ a demanding idol lifestyle was something taehyung and yourself were all too familiar with. it wasn’t so hard when considering your unconditional love for one another, but lately, taehyung wasn’t the same anymore; and you decide it’s time to find out why.

angst, smut, fluff (the holy trinity), idol!au, established relationship!au

100 km/hour | pjm @chateautae

⤷ what exactly happens when you and your friends have to pile into one car for the ride home after an insane halloween party, and you find yourself sitting in park jimin’s lap? especially when he’s dressed as an angel, and you’re in the sluttiest devil costume ever?

college!au, smut, pwp

fine line | jjk @soobibabe

⤷ Y/N, a 28-year-old dreamer whose plans for marriage and motherhood crumbled when her fiancé, Jae-on, decided to "see other people," leaving her adrift in a sea of unfulfilled expectations. Just as she’s about to face the cringe of attending his baby shower with his new girlfriend, her best friend Jungkook swoops in with a wild idea; why not embark on a platonic co-parenting adventure together?

romance

hazy hours | myg @borathae

⤷ part of the kinkoctober 2024

new relationship!AU, Idol!Yoongi

fxck a fxckboy | myg @yoongifis

⤷ where you sort of hooked up with one of the school’s biggest fuckboys but end up leaving him hanging and never contacting him because…well…why not? somehow the universe brought you two together and now you’re left with dealing with him because he apparently caught feelings for you.

smut, pwp

before we shatter | jjk @caramelkoo

⤷ dating an idol is fun, they said. having a family with one is fun, they said. Until you're falling face forward because of your reality. A reality where Jungkook dreams of a future and a reality where your own future is collapsed.

established relationship, idol!jungkook

warm nighs & clear lines | jjk @awrkive

⤷ there haven't been a lot of people who have come into your life that became important to you – and you didn’t expect jeon jungkook to be one if it – not at all. but what started as a casual relationship turned into more than that, and now you find yourself deeply in love with him – and happily so.

or; your first "i love you" comes out completely wrong.

SMUT, fluff

all your fault | jhs @minisugakoobies

⤷ It’s all Hobi’s fault!

smut, drabble, PWP, established relationship, non-Idol!AU

muscle memory | knj @taegularities

⤷ the weather outside might be trying to chill you to your bones, but watching Namjoon's seething hot presence work out is enough to melt every little piece of you - and he sees the longing in your eyes all too soon.

establish relationship; some fluff, mostly smut

magic stick | jjk @badbtssmut

⤷ Jungkook is kinda sad because he has never been with a girl who could take him balls deep because of his size, reader doesn't believe him and she wants to see, but he tells her that he can't atm bc he's not hard. She is wearing this kinda halter top style with no bra so she looses the top and shows her tits to him and let's him touch them. After he's hard he shows her his dick and she says she's willing to try to take it all and she rides him into the sunset

[nickynclark]

The Psychology of Love and Loathing

Spencer Reid x F!Reader

Enemies to lovers! 

Word count: 7,584

Warnings: no use of y/n, reader goes by 'bunny', discussion of a case (nothing too far from usual Criminal Minds gore), reader has three PhD's (bet you didn't know that), briefly mentions readers mother committing su!cide, mentions of toxic parents, alcohol consumption, jealous! Reader, jealous! Reid, pet names (good girl, silly girl, baby, sweetheart, sweet thing), degradation, oral f! Receiving, like one line of oral m!receiving, unprotected p in v (pls wrap it before you tap it), no mention of reader being on birth control, anal play, overstimulation, after care. If i missed anything let me know!

Author’s note: i’m so sorry im ovulating. This is porn w a shit ton of plot. We’re talkin WORLD BUILDING

MDNI BELOW THE CUT

You blink at the papers in front of you, checking once, twice, double checking three times to make sure what you're seeing is correct. 

You were on a case in Texas, called in by local police after four bodies, two wealthy couples, were found shot execution-style and posed on different park benches throughout Amarillo. While at first, it seemed as though it was your average serial killer, the autopsy report showed that the gunshot wound was done post-mortem- all four victims were murdered by being forced to drink household bleach. 

You looked down at the papers one more time, noticing that one man, Adam Gilman, cleaned houses of the wealthy, and he purchased a lot of bleach. Way more than needed to clean a few bathrooms. 

You quickly dial Garcia, and she answers within the first ring. 

"Ask and you shall receive." 

"Garcia, what can you find out about Adam Gilman?"

You hear typing from the other end of the line before spewing information, "35-year-old white male, he grew up super rich until his dad pulled his college funding his senior year when his sister went to school to be a doctor. He started paying for her," She suddenly sucked in a breath, "It looks like he had to drop out. He was at Harvard Law. Spiraled downhill from there, sending you the files and address now." 

"Thanks, Garcia!" 

You rush into the room where the rest of the team is and run up to Hotch. 

"Look at this! He fits the profile to a t!" 

Hotch looks down at his tablet, and you feel eyes glance over to you, about to speak, but Spencer Reid bursts through the doors. 

"Guys our unsub is Adam Gilman! He lives five minutes from here, and his job is on the way." 

Hotch nods at you, acknowledging that you have the same information but Reid said it louder, "Let's go." 

Since you joined the Bureau last year, Spencer Reid has been competing with you. Whereas he was thirty-three with three PhDs, you were twenty-five with the same amount. Of course, he got his when he was much younger, but he still seemed to overcompensate. 

He was intimidated by you. 

This wasn't the first time a situation like this had happened. It's almost like he had a radar for when you made a big break, and he wanted to steal the spotlight. 

And not to mention he hates you for some reason. 

Ever since your first week in the BAU, Dr. Reid has acted indifferent to you. You understand that change can be uncomfortable, but you have done nothing to deserve this cold shoulder. 

On your first day, you strutted into the office dressed in a pair of black slacks, a black, v-neck blouse, and some hot pink pumps; being honest, you looked like you owned the place. 

When Aaron introduced you to the team, you shook everyone's hand except Reid's. 

"The number of pathogens passed through a handshake is staggering," he stated mater-of-factly while staring at your hand, "it's actually safer to kiss." 

You laugh and tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, "Although I appreciate the concern, a handshake is actually a sign of peaceful intentions. Soldiers would cover their swords on their left side and shake their right hand to show they mean no harm," you shrug, "but I understand the mysophobia." 

He nodded at you, a glare suddenly hardening his features, "interesting." 

He has refused to hold conversation with you, maintain eye contact with you, or be in the same room with you for an extended amount of time ever since. 

He hates it the most when you're right. 

After arresting Adam, the team desperately needed to interrogate him. He was denying all claims despite all the evidence against him. In fact, all he has said has been denials. Besides that, he didn't speak. He hadn't asked for a lawyer, hadn't shown any recognition to the couples, and hadn't said anything besides I've never seen those people before.

"We need to make him uncomfortable," Morgan says, "he's running this whole show. We gotta flip the tide." 

Emily looks up from her Chinese takeout, laughing, "Let's throw Bun and Reid in there." 

Your eyes widen, and you are suddenly incredibly red. Your face is on fire, and you start looking around panicked. 

The team started referring to you as 'Bun' over the summer when you all went to a bar together. You accidentally had one too many drinks, and Derek said you were bouncing up and down the whole time. 

"She's like a Bunny." 

"Don't call me a Bunny!" You slur, "I'm mean. And vicious." 

Penelope laughs at you, throwing an arm around your shoulder, "Alright, Bun. Let's go dance!" 

Ever since that night, the nickname 'bun' stuck. 

Although Emily suggested you and Reid distracting Adam as a joke, Rossi's lips pull into a smile, "That just might work." 

Emily sets her food down, suddenly aware that she presented the first good idea so far, "we could dress them up some, make them look like a wealthy couple, and have them ask Adam some questions. It might make him mad enough to break." 

Aaron looks at you and you gulp subtly, then he looks to Reid, "It's up to you." 

You look at your feet, frowning, "I'm willing to do whatever it takes to get this guy in jail." 

Reid simply nods. 

"Okay," Aaron says, "we'll go get the stuff." 

You and Spencer remain in the small room while the others rush out to get the things you require for your transformation. 

"Hi." Your voice comes out quiet. 

"Hello." He responds blandly. 

You suddenly realize this is the first time you and Reid have been in a room alone together, so you take the opportunity. 

"What have I done to you?" 

Reid's eyebrows shoot up at the confrontation "Huh?" 

You roll your eyes, "ever since my first day you've avoided me. What did I do?" 

He scoffs, "I have no idea what you're talking about." 

"Sure you don't." You sigh and run a hand through your hair, "I'm the only person on the team you practically refuse to talk to." 

"I'm talking to you right now," he says as if that's a counterargument, "I talk to you all the time." 

"Yeah, when you're forced to!" You say exasperatedly, "You know everyone on the team's birthdays, all except mine. You know their family situation because you've asked." 

He shrugs, "I know plenty about you."

"How old am I?" 

He looks into your eyes calmly, "You're twenty-eight." 

"I'm twenty-five." 

Emily suddenly bursts into the room, "There isn't anything for you guys in lost and found. You have to go on a shopping trip. Strauss said a 300 dollar limit." 

You nod, "I assume that's just for clothes?" 

"Yes," She answers, "Reid is going to wear Rossi's watch and a wedding band JJ's going to pick up. Both of you will wear a ring." She then looks to you, "We have a lot of jewelry for you to pick through." 

You nod, standing and Reid rises next to you. 

Emily tosses you some keys, "be back in an hour." 

***

The ride to the mall was quiet. You didn't bother talking to Spencer as you drove, and he didn't bother speaking to you. 

He also kept turning down the radio when you tried to turn it up. It was painfully awkward. 

Once at the mall, you and Reid split up incredibly fast. 

He ran to some men's warehouse, and you rushed to the women's section of a department store. 

You quickly pick up a pair of black pinstriped slacks that hug your curves and a tight, white blouse. You finally grab a black, pinstriped blazer, and you head to check out. 

On your way, though, a pair of stunning, emerald heels grabs your attention. 

You walk closer to study them, and god do they look lavish. 

If you weren't here for work, you would grab them in a heartbeat, but you were, and you had already met your price cap. 

"Buy them." 

You hear Spencer's voice from behind you, and you jump, grabbing your chest in fright.

"What?" 

"Get them," he shrugs, "it's obvious you want to." 

You laugh shyly, and he stuffs his hands into his jean pockets, his bag of clothes hanging around his wrist. 

"I've already met my limit." 

"Okay?"

You frown, studying him. He looks calm and relaxed. You tilt your head slightly, and he matches your movement. 

No, that can't be right. 

You cross your arms in a silent stare down, and he does, too. 

"You're mimicking me." 

He scoffs, "God, Bun, not everything I do is to spite you!" 

Your eyes widen and you suddenly point at him, "You!"

"What?" 

"You just called me Bun!" 

His eyes barely widen, but he catches himself, staring straight ahead. 

His foot stops tapping, "you're hearing things." 

"And that's your tell!" You point at his foot, "You just mimicked me, called me 'Bun', and then lied about it!" 

He rolls his eyes, "what size are you?" 

"You're avoiding the question!" 

"You didn't ask a question." He gestures to the heels, "What size?" 

"Why?" 

"Answer the question, Bunny." 

His tone is stern, and you freeze under his stare. 

"Nine." 

He nods and grabs a box in that size. 

"No!" You protest, "Don't!"

"I still had a hundred bucks left over, it's on the company's card." 

You blink twice, confused as to why he's being so nice to you. 

"Okay. I need to pay and I'm done." 

He nods to you, and you both check out. He hands you the heels and you let out a quiet thanks while headed to the car.

***

When you got back to the station, the turnaround was dizzying. 

You were shoved into a room to change, as was Reid. 

After you changed, JJ came in and whistled. 

"Sheesh, Bun, you look good!" 

You laugh and straighten out your jacket, slipping on the heels Spencer bought you today. 

"Are those new?"

You nod, "yeah, Spencer said he had some left in his budget." 

She shook her head, "Reid must've bought those with his own money." 

Your eyes widen, and she laughs, "C'mon, Bun. You need to look at jewelry." 

You picked out a pair of dainty, diamond earrings, a matching necklace, and several expensive bracelets that had to be physically screwed onto your wrists. 

Once standing in front of Hotch, Emily gave you the wedding bands JJ had picked up. 

Yours was a gorgeous gold band with an emerald-cut diamond on top. It was simple, but, God, was it stunning. 

You slipped it onto your finger and Reid slipped the simple golden band over his, his hands looking all that much better with the ring on it. It makes your mouth water just thinking about his fingers.

You quickly shake your head. No. You hate Spencer Reid. Nothing will change that. 

Hotch gives you and Reid strict instructions on how to talk to Adam, and then he's sending you in. 

"Sell it," Aaron says, "this might be our only shot." 

You give him a curt nod, linking your arm with Reid and smiling as you walk into the interrogation room. 

Spencer looks down at you with a look of passion you've never seen before. One that you aren't convinced could be fake. 

As soon as you looked at Adam, you could tell there was something off. He was picking at the skin around his nails and chewing on the skin of his lips where they looked raw and painful. 

As you sat down in front of him, Spencer was the first to speak. 

"Who is this guy again, babe?" 

You held back the shock in your face at the pet name as he put a hand on your thigh. You made a point to twist the wedding ring on your finger before opening the files in front of you. 

"Adam?" You look up at the man in front of you, "are you Adam?" He nods, and you hum, "Who are you, exactly?" 

Reid smiles and looks to you, "Play nice." He slides the files over to him, "Harvard law, that's impressive. Did you apply or did your father buy your way in?"

Adam's eyes narrowed, "I applied and got accepted. I was a prodigy." 

You smile subtly, knowing you and Reid have already gotten him to show more of himself than he had to anyone else. 

You look at your fake husband and laugh, "I don't think you can decide that you're a prodigy." You look Adam up and down, "my husband, here," you place your hand on Spencer's shoulder, looking at him as if he hung the moon and stars, "he is a prodigy. How old were you when you got your first PhD?"

"Seventeen," he laughed humbly, looking at you, "you flatter me." 

You smile softly as Reid squeezes your thigh, something Adam could not see and, therefore, was unnecessary. You look at Spencer, but he refuses to meet your eyes. 

You turn back to Adam, pulling out the photos of the four bodies and showing them to him, "have you met these people before?" 

He shakes his head, "I've never seen those people before." 

"Really?" You ask calmly, "You've never, ever, seen Andrea Haskins?" 

Adam shakes his head. 

"Never, not once, seen her husband, Kent Haskins, either?" 

He shakes his head again. 

Reid sits up straighter, linking his hands together on the table in front of him, "you received a pretty generous amount of money from him every month since... August?" 

You mentally thank Garcia for that information, and mentally thank Reid for remembering it. 

Adam sits up straight, too, but falling shorter than Reid, "I clean their house for them, don't mean I've ever met 'em." 

You hum, "I wouldn't let a stranger into our home, would you?" 

Reid shakes his head, and Adam gets visibly upset at your interactions. His hands clench to the table ledge, knees bouncing, eyes narrowed. 

"Say, Adam," you perk up, "how much bleach do you use per house you clean, about?" 

Adam's eyes trained on me, "you're a smart girl," he then looked to Reid, "with an even smarter husband." He spits the words as if they are poison on his tongue, "You do the math." 

You stand, smiling softly, "So, not 10 gallons per week?" 

Adam shrugs, "If that's your calculation." 

You walk closer to the man, sitting on the table next to him and leaning down to him, "And I assume you also have never met the Coleman's?"

He shakes his head. 

"Never met anyone in the Coleman family?" 

"No. God, you people suck at your job."

"That's actually interesting considering we have video footage of your picking up Lacey Coleman from school last Monday. A family doesn't let a stranger house cleaner pick up their child from school." 

Adam's eyes widen, and you know you have him cornered. 

"How long had your sister been friends with the Colemans?" Reid interjects. 

"Don't you dare talk about her." 

"Why not?" Reid asks simply, "Does she bother you?" 

"I was going to be a Lawyer, I was going to be successful and make my dad proud of me. Until she ruined it all with her perfect schooling and perfect husband," Adam spits.

"Halley is a pretty successful neurosurgeon, huh? She gets all of daddy's special attention, doesn't she?" You say.

"Get your wife on a leash," Adam says to Reid. 

"All you wanted was to feel loved, to hear your dad say he's proud of you," you keep talking, "and you were going to kill him because he wouldn't say it." 

"Shut the hell up, bitch!" 

"You were getting ready to kill your mom and dad because, hey, why not go straight to the source? Why not kill who made you like this?" 

"What if your family pulled your funds for a sibling, huh?" He yells to you and Reid, "How would you feel?" 

The room goes silent and Reid allows you to keep talking, keep getting on his nerves. 

"His daddy left him when his mom got sick, and my mommy killed herself when I was seven. We worked for our degrees, and we worked even harder for the scholarships that paid for our three PhDs." You hiss, "I would've worked harder to get what I want instead of just expecting it." 

"You're a bitch," Adam spit in my face. 

"I could be worse. I could take away a little girl's family. I could kill four innocent people out of my frustration and failure." 

Reid finally stepped in, grabbing your hand softly and pulling you back to your side of the table. 

"I didn't kill those people." 

"That's not what your body is telling us, Adam." Reid states simply, "You are hurt and still are hurting, I understand that. But now so is Lacey. That's on you." 

Adam's lip quivers, "I didn't hurt Lacey! Lacey was at her friend's house!" 

Reid rises, grabs your hand gently, and walks to the door, and you follow.

"Hey!" Adam screams, "where are you going? Get back here!" 

As soon as the door shuts behind you, you let go of Reid's hand. He turns to you and watches your expression shift. 

"Good work, Bun." 

You nod, and he looks like he's about to say something else, mouth opening, but then Hotchner walks in. 

"Great work.” 

You smile at Aaron, and Reid stares at you with something dark behind his eyes. He looks nervous, and hungry, and concerned, and certain. 

"We'll be heading back in 30. Wrap up. Great job, Doctors." 

***

On the plane, you and Reid are still in your "Rich Couple" personas, not having enough time to change out. 

You sit near the back of the plane, headphones in, and reading Songs of Innocence and Songs of Experience by William Blake. 

"Little Lamb who made thee, Dost though know who made thee?" 

You hear the words of "The Lamb" spoken, causing you to take out your headphones and look to the source: Spencer Reid. 

He sits across from you as you ask, "You read Blake?" 

"Blake to Poe to Plath, I don't mind." 

You narrow your eyes at him, "what do you want?"

"Really?" He asks, "We can't just have a nice moment?" 

You raise your eyebrows at him, "Not you and me. We don't have nice moments."

His facial features soften, and he sighs, "I'm sorry for acting so harsh toward you. You didn't deserve that." 

You're shocked by his statement, "Pardon me?"

He runs a hand through his hair, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees, "I was scared, Bun. I was the smart one. I convinced myself that was all I could be," his breath hitches and his eyes connect with mine, "I thought if there was someone smarter, more sociable, and nicer than me, they wouldn't need me anymore." 

"Spence..." you start, and you realize it's the first time you've called him his nickname. 

He notices it, too, eyes shifting from one of concern to one of understanding, "You're incredibly smart. You're kind, and you're fun to be around. I'm sorry it took me so long to notice that."

You nodded, "thank you." 

He nods and goes to stand.

"Wait." You quickly speak up and he freezes, "What's... um..." you stutter, "what's your favorite Poe?" 

Reid smiles, sitting back down, "Annabel Lee." 

You smile, "Gold-Bug."

He laughs, "Really?" 

And you nod. 

**** 

"Let's go get drinks!" Garcia announces as you and the team wrap up your paperwork, and you laugh. 

"I don't think so," you smile, "not tonight." 

"C'mon, Bun," Garcia whines "It'll be fun!"

Reid suddenly looked at you, eyes darker, eyes that held you tight in a grip, "Yeah, c'mon, Bun." He says the name with a sensuality you had never heard before. It sent a shiver down your spine, "it'll be fun." 

You look at him, taking in a shaky breath, "I.. uh, don't have a ride." 

"I'll drive you," Reid says simply, and the rest of the team just stares at the interaction. 

Things have changed since the interrogation room, you know that, but did you want to be alone with him already? 

You look at him, his messy hair, his stubble, and chocolate brown eyes, and your pussy clenches around nothing. 

You find yourself nodding, mouth too dry to speak.

"Good," he smiles, "follow me."

Your team watches with uncertainty as you walk off with Spencer, and it's almost like they've seen the change, too. 

No, they're profilers. They know Reid had you wrapped around his finger while reciting Blake. 

They also knew Spencer had been pining after you since you wore those hot pink heels on the first day of work. But they didn't need to tell you that. 

Reid guides you to the elevator, and you comply silently. Once the door closes and it's just you two, you turn to Spencer.

"What are you doing?"

"What do you mean?" He responds simply.

You turn to face him, "why are you being so nice to me?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Bun." 

You roll your eyes, "yeah right." 

The elevator doors open, and he walks you to his car, opening the door for you.

"Thank you," you smile cautiously, and he nods. 

He sits down in the driver's seat and pulls out of his parking spot. One of his hands rests on the wheel, the other placed on the gearshift. His eyes focus on the road, but they occasionally slide over to you. The silence- although comfortable- practically kills you.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" 

He glances over at you, and he smirks, "I want to." 

You look at him, "why?"

He shrugs, "spent too long not doing it." 

You nod and glance out the window, just as Spencer puts the car in park. 

As you step out of the car, you hear Derek and Emily from behind you, making a show of letting you know they are also here. 

You walked over to Morgan and hugged him.

"Hey, Bunny," he smiles and kisses your forehead, "first rounds on me tonight, sweetheart." 

You laugh, "thank god! Need a handsome man to buy me some drinks!"

Reid scoffs from behind you, but you shrug it off, assuming it was about something Emily had said. 

It wasn't. 

As you walk into the bar with Derek's arm around your shoulder, you quickly make your way to the table with Garcia and Rossi. 

"What are you drinking?" You ask Garcia, gesturing to her hot pink drink in front of her, garnished with cotton candy, strawberries on sticks, and a big, twisty straw.

Gracia's eyes widen, "oh my gosh! You've never been here before??" You shake your head, and she squeals with excitement, "Okay, so, it's called the Cotton Candy Chameleon. It's basically strawberry vodka and coconut rum with strawberry soda! Look!" She picks up the cotton candy and places it into the liquid, watching as it rapidly dissolves, "did you see that?!" 

"That's why it's called a Chameleon," Derek laughs, arm still around you, "want me to get you one?" 

You nod happily, "and a shot of Titos? I'll pay you back!" 

Morgan winks at you, "It's on me, Bun." 

As he walks toward the bar, you and Garcia continue to chat about anything and everything, her childhood cat, where you grew up, and how Garcia got put on the team. 

"You were so good at being bad," you laugh, swirling your third Cotton Candy Chameleon that Morgan brought over to you, "that the FBI gave you a job instead of jail time?" 

She nodded, giggling, "Pretty much. Are you going to take that shot?" She points to the round Rossi had bought for the table. 

You laugh, quickly picking it up and downing it, "god!" 

"Woah!" Morgan laughs, hands catching your hips to keep you steady, "careful, Bunny." 

You feel eyes glaring into you, and you trace them to Reid sitting at the bar. He has his elbow on the bar, leaning into his hand as he watches you with a look of unhappiness. 

You roll your eyes, finishing the final chug of your drink, and placing a hand on Morgan's chest. 

"You're warm," you say with a goofy smile, and Derek laughs.

"Oh, really, sweetheart?" 

You nod, leaning further into him as his hands rest on your hips. 

You make eye contact with him before you smirk and push away, "I'm going to get another drink." 

"Hey, Bun!" You turn around to Rossi, his empty glass raised to you, "Get me another old fashioned." 

You nod, smiling at the older man, and waltzing to the bar, right next to Reid. 

"You having fun, Bunny?" He asks, voice low. 

"Yes, sir." You smile, waiting for the bartender to walk over. 

He sucks in a breath at the title, "You sure are touchy with Morgan," he grits out, staring at you, not quite your eyes, but something a little bit lower. 

You scoff, "What's it to you?" 

"Nothing." He spits, eyes connecting with yours, pupils taking over the brown of his eyes. 

The bartender finally comes up to you, a cute girl in a black, low-cut tank top and some black, short shorts. She has short blonde hair, barely reaching her shoulders and it's curled up and pinned back so her hair is framing her face. 

She was gorgeous, actually.

"What can I do for ya?" She asks, shaking a drink before breaking the seal and pouring it into a glass. 

You tell her your order, and that it's on David Rossi's tab, and she nods. 

Then she turns to Spencer, "What about you handsome?" She says it sultry like she's trying to seduce him, "Need another? I'd be happy to get you somethin' else." 

Your eyes narrow on her, a deep, red-hot feeling forming in your gut. She doesn't see your stare though, completely focused on Spencer, leaning over the counter so her cleavage is on full display, biting her lip and twirling her hair. 

You decided then and there that you hated her. 

Reid tells her that he's okay, water if she insists, and when she comes back with his water, she hands him a napkin with ink scribbled on it, "I get off in 45 if you're interested."

"He's not." 

The words come out of your lips faster than you could think, your brain taking longer to catch up with your mouth. 

"Pardon?" She asks you, calm and calculating, "Didn't know you could decide that for him." 

You laugh cockily, "Oh?" You act fast pulling yourself into Reid's lap before he can protest, but his hands wrap around you, trapping you where you sat, "I think I can." 

Reid looked at the bartender, then his eyes trailed back to you, "Sorry, Brooklyn, I'm spoken for," his eyes darkened, a sly smile rising on his lips. 

The bartender walks away to work on your drinks, and you turn all the way to face Reid. 

"What are you doing, Bun?" He asks, voice low. You shift your hips and he hums, grabbing your waist to stop the movement, "Stop that. Talk to me." 

You whimper, leaning into his chest, "You were really going to choose some bottle blonde over me?" Your words come out harsh, but it's also the first time you've said what's truly on your mind in front of Reid.

His eyes land back on Brooklyn, and he smirks, "She's pretty, I'll give her that," he looks down at you, right as the bartender places the drinks in front of you, "But you? You're on a whole different level, Bun." 

You blush and shake your head, just as Brooklyn walks back over to hand you your drinks. 

As she sets them down she says, "Hey, I'm sorry. I didn't realize you two were a thing." 

You quickly shake your head, "Don't worry about it," you smile, "neither did he." 

"In my defense," Spencer laughs, his lips close to your ear, "I didn't know you were an option. If I had, there wouldn't have been a competition."

You shiver when you feel his breath on your neck, "yeah, right. You've hated me since I joined the BAU."

His eyes widened, "Hated you?" 

You nod softly, a little confused by the question. 

"Hated isn't the word I would use," He laughed. 

"What is?" You ask quietly. 

He leans his head side to side, as if pondering the best way to answer, "obsessed? Intimidated?" He looked at you, a small smirk playing on his lips, "Lusted?" 

Your eyes widened, "what?"

He shrugs, a hand falling to your thigh, thumb drawing circles, "The way you are entrances me. The way you walk, the way you talk, the way you exist." He leans his head down so his eyes meet yours, "I knew I couldn't do anything about that, so I stayed away. I guess it came off as hatred." 

The hand that wasn't on your leg reached up to pluck the cotton candy off of your drink, opening his mouth and letting the sugar melt on his tongue. 

"Mmm," he hummed, eyes still locked with yours, "so sweet, Bun." 

Your jaw dropped slightly, thighs clenching, and he grips your flesh, "Nuh, uh. What's wrong?" He chuckles as you whine against him, "Use your words." 

You sit up, straightening and sliding off of his lap, "You're a sick freak, Spencer Reid." 

He licked his lips, eyes trailing down your body, "I'll bring Rossi his drink, wait by the door." 

You cross your arms over your chest, but your heart is pounding so loudly you can hear it in your ears, "what makes you think I listen to you?" 

"Oh, Bunny," his finger lifts your chin, "I'm a profiler. Absolutely everything tells me that you'll listen to me." 

You roll your eyes and scoff, "And if they ask where we're going?"

A devilish smirk flashes across his lips, and he leans toward your ear, and you can feel his breath on your skin, "you already told them you're tired," he pauses, "I'm going to fuck you to sleep, Doctor." 

You suck in a shuddering breath, eyes glazing over as he chuckles, pulling away from you. 

You take a step back, mumbling, "Hurry back." 

He smiles widely, pupils practically taking over his chocolate eyes, "good girl." 

You suck in a breath as he turns on his heel, walking over to the team as you wait by the door. Penelope frowns at you, waving, and Emily blows you a kiss. 

Rossi looks at you calmly, and Derek raises a smooth eyebrow with a smirk. 

Spencer walks back to you, grabbing your arm as you walk to the car.

Once you get back to his black Dodge Challenger, he presses you against the door, “How drunk are you right now?”

“From one to ten?” You ask, voice quiet, Reid looking at you like you’re a meal.

He nods, hands gripping your hips, “Goddamn it, Bun,” he hisses, “Yes, one to ten.”

“Four,” you answer, and his lips slam into yours in a frenzy.

It’s all tongue and teeth like he couldn’t wait a single second longer to taste you. Like it would kill him. 

Your chest arches into his, hands going to his shoulders, holding on for life in the bruising kiss. 

He pulls away, his eyes nearly black, eyes filled with an undeniable hunger, and it makes you shiver. 

A smirk comes over his face as he steps away from you, opening your door, “get in.”

You don’t have to be told twice, stepping into the car, carefully so you don’t fall in the emerald heels he bought you.

With his own money.

“Spencer?”

He turns on the car and pulls out of the parking spot, “Yeah?” 

You look at him, studying how you are both still dressed like a posh-rich couple, “You bought me these heels.” 

He nods, chuckling and placing his hand on your thigh, “Excellent observation.”

You shudder at the contact, “with your own money.” 

He smirks, “Who told you that?”

“JJ?”

“Ah,” he laughs, “Yeah, green’s your color.”

You raise an eyebrow, “How did you decide that?”

“A few weeks ago you wore this emerald green sweater,” he says, “It looked so goddamn good on you.”

You recall the memory, smiling softly, “Is that why you were avoiding me? You thought I looked pretty?”

His voice gets stern, face serious when he looks over at you, “Stop talking, Bun.”

A belly laugh escapes your mouth, head thrown back as you cackle, “I thought I pissed you off somehow!”

He gives your thigh a sharp squeeze, “I don’t think I’ve ever been genuinely angry with you.”

You sit dumbfounded, a quiet oh slipping past your closed lips. 

He looks at you and parks the car, “I’ve been upset, frustrated, and God have I been irritated with you,” he turns to look at you, pulling his hand away from your leg, “But I have never been angry with you.” 

He unbuckles quickly as you stare at him in surprise, and he gets out of the car, rushing around to open your door, “hurry up.”

You stumble out of the car, and he puts a hand on the small of your back, ushering you into his apartment.

You don’t get a chance to fully appreciate the chaotic charm of Spencer Reid’s place. As soon as you notice the books piled up everywhere, he spins you around, pressing your back against the door and capturing your lips in another kiss. This kiss is slower and more controlled, with his hands sliding up your sides to your back, one hand tangling in the hair at the base of your neck. You ball his shirt into your hands, pulling him impossibly closer.

“God, Bun, your fucking intoxicating,” he sighs against your lips, hands slipping under your shirt to rest on your bare hips, and you sigh at the contact. 

He smirks, trailing wet kisses down your neck, gently grazing his teeth over your pulse point, and you moan, “there she is,” he mumbles, “been wanting to hear you make those pretty little sounds for a while.”

You whimper, “Shut up.”

He laughs, tugging you away from the door, and guiding you into his bedroom. 

You shed off your suit jacket, and he rips your shirt over your head before pushing you down on his mattress. You gasp as you fall, Spencer's hands quickly move to your slacks, unbuttoning them and looking up at you with eyes so fiery you feel your whole body set aflame. 

“Yes,” you say, noticing the silent question Spencer is asking you, “please, yes.” 

He smirks, kissing the skin just above the waistline of your pants before tugging them down, and you lift your hips to help him slide them off.

He throws the items into the corner of his room, sitting up and looking at you: dressed in nothing but a black bra and matching panties, his eyes darken. He slides his hands down your body, and he practically growls when he feels your sopping wet cunt.

“God dammit, you’re so wet Bunny,” he says, his finger sliding over the soaked fabric of your panties, “such a silly girl, thinking I could want anyone but you.”

You whimper at the comment, and he leans down to kiss your upper thigh, slowly spreading your legs apart with the palms of his hands. Your legs widen as he settles in, kissing slowly up and around them, licking, sucking, and biting until you’re littered with heart-shaped marks. 

“Gonna show you how much I wanted you,” he hisses, his hot breath fanning over your covered pussy, “gotta let you know how dumb you are for thinking I was anyone’s but yours.”

You whimper shamelessly at the comment, your legs trying to close, desperate for any kind of friction.

“Oh, you like that, don’t you, Bunny?” he laughs, looking up at you from between your thighs, “You like it when I tell you just how stupid you are? How fuckin’ useless that little brain of yours is?”

You nod rapidly, and Spencer licks a thick stripe over your clothed core. You let out a loud gasp, your head lolling to the side at the much-appreciated attention. He pushes your underwear to the side, diving into your pussy like a man starved. Spencer kitten licks your clit before pulling it into his mouth and sucking harshly, and your back arches from the bed.

“Fuck, Spence,” you moan, hands shooting into his hair, “so fuckin good, feels so good.”

“Mmm, there you go, baby,” he says, his index finger circling your entrance, “let me know how good I’m doing,” and his finger slowly pushes into you as his mouth reconnects to your hot skin.

Spencer Reid was talented with his tongue, but, god, his fingers were a whole other story.

He curled his finger toward him, finding that sweet, gummy spot inside you almost immediately, abusing it before inserting another and scissoring his fingers.

“You’re so tight,” he mumbles against your cunt, and a loud moan slips from your lips, your hands tangling into his hair as you desperately try to grind against his tongue, but he puts a hand over your stomach, holding you down.

He continues his torment, fingers working you open and his tongue moving rapidly through your folds. His fingers drag down your front wall slowly, and you can’t help his name slipping off of your tongue. 

He smirks, looking up at you, “Atta girl, Bunny. Let everyone know who’s making you feel this good.”

You moan loudly as he continues his torment. Your legs start to shake, his tongue swirling circles around your clit, teeth grazing the sensitive skin, and one of your hands grabs your breast to ground you. Your breathing gets ragged, and it’s all you can do to stop yourself from screaming.

“You gonna cum for me, Bunny?” He asks, voice low, “Gonna cum all over my fingers?”

You nod, and he tsk’s.

“Without asking?” He says, a smirk on his perfect lips, slowing his fingers down and moving to kiss the insides of your thighs, “Not even going to ask after I’ve worked so hard for you?”

You throw your head back with a groan, “Please, Spencer!”

“Please what?”

You consider slapping him, telling him to stop treating you like some desperate slut, but in your current state? You might as well be.

“Please let me cum! I’ve been so good for you, Spence, I’ll be so good!”

“Yeah? You going to be my good girl?” he asks, eyes locking with yours, eyebrows raised, as he speeds up his fingers inside of your spasming pussy, “You promise?”

“Promise! Please, Spence, let me cum for you!”

He pauses for a second like he’s thinking, the smirk on his face growing, “cum for me, Bunny,” and he watches your face, jaw dropped as you orgasm around his fingers, your slick coating his palm and dripping onto the sheets below you as he works you through your bliss.  

Once you come down, though, his fingers don't stop moving, his thumb moving to rub tight circles on your pulsing clit, “You’ve got another one in you,” he says as you bite your lip and your eyes water slightly, “C’mon, baby, you can give me another, right?”

You nod your head, your lip tugged between your teeth, your legs still shaking. He doesn’t give you time to breathe, just continues to suck and lick on your clit like it’s what he was made for, and, before you know it, your eyes clench shut as you rapidly approach another orgasm.

Little whimpers leave your lips, and Spencer chuckles slightly, “My poor girl, so desperate for me. I can tell you’re getting close again, huh?”

“Yes, sir,” you whisper, and he speeds up his pace, your jaw dropping into a silent ‘o’.

He kisses your stomach, holding your shaking legs with his free hand, “Give it to me, Bun.”

And you release with reckless ambition, thighs flung open and a hand gripping the sheets for your life as a string of moans leaves your lips. Spencer removes his fingers and moves down to lick up your come, and you have no choice but to whimper. He smirks and pulls away from your cunt, placing his lips hot on your own, and you taste yourself.

“You’re so sweet, Bunny. Sweeter than candy,” he sighs, hands sliding down your chest.

You whimper, forcing your hands into his hair in another soul-crushing kiss, and he chuckles into it. 

“Desperate for something?” 

And you nod, one hand trailing down the front of his body, grabbing his dick covered by his pants and he groans.

“You want this cock, Baby?” He lifts off of you, sitting with his knees on either side of your body while he quickly undoes the top two buttons of his shirt before deeming it useless and pulling it over his head while your hands make quick work of his pants, pulling off his belt and tugging his pants and boxers down enough to free his aching cock.

You moan at the sight, immediately leaning forward to kiss his tip, before he pushes you back onto the bed. 

“Another time, Bun,” he grumbles, “need to feel you around me.” 

You moan, nodding and lining him up with your quivering pussy, and he pushes forward just slightly, enough for his tip to pop inside of you, and the groan that leaves his lips is pornographic. 

“She’s so fuckin’ tight, baby, can feel her squeezing me.” 

You whimper, “please! More!” 

He chuckles darkly at your request, “yeah? You need something?” 

You roll your hips forward, pushing him in a little further before he slaps the outside of your thigh harshly. 

“Nuh uh, sweetheart. I’m gonna take my time with you.” 

He emphasizes his words by pulling out slightly, and pushing back in, fucking you with just his tip, and a desperate gasp leaves your lips. 

“Look at you,” he groans, continuing his torturous motions, “so desperate for my cock. Such a nasty little thing.” 

And the thrusts harshly, abruptly sheathing his whole cock inside of you, and your head throws back. 

He has the audacity to laugh at you, quickening his pace, each thrust hitting causing him to hit your cervix in a blissfully painful way, your eyes rolling back, begging for something. You're not quite sure what, though. 

“So fucked out you can't think straight?” He coos, his pace never slowing, “if I knew this was all it took to shut you up I’d have done it a long time ago.” 

And you whine at the thought. 

He raises an eyebrow, “You like that idea, don't you, Bunny?” And you nod. 

Suddenly, he pulls out completely, slapping your thigh again, “Roll over. Hands and knees.” 

You quickly comply, supporting yourself on shaky arms and legs, and he trails a hand up your spine before pushing down, forcing your chest to the bed below you. 

He groans as you arch your back, quickly pushing himself back inside your sopping cunt.,

“Such pretty holes you got here, baby,” he whispers, spitting onto your asshole as one of his thumbs spreads out the lubricant, causing your breath to hitch. 

“Wanna fill both of them for you, can I do that?” 

And you nod recklessly, your head bouncing against the pillows at the speed and power of his thrusts, and he takes your permission to push his thumb into your virgin ass, and the moan that rips through your throat is almost humiliating. 

“You like being so full of me, don't you, Bunny?”

And you groan out, “yes! Fuck, I’m so close, Spencer!” 

He laughs as your cunt starts quivering around his cock, his tip bullying that sweet spot inside of you. 

“I know sweet thing, give it to me. Cum around my cock.” 

With permission, you release around him, your pussy clenched around his dick and your ass squeezing his thumb, but he keeps fucking you through it.

His free hand laces through your hair, pulling your head back as you whimper in overstimulation. 

“Take it,” he groans, mumbling more to himself as his cock twitches inside of you, “come on, take it like the dirty whore you are. Love having me fill both your nasty holes, fuck.” 

His rhythm falters, and he thrusts one or two more times before spilling inside of you, fucking his seed deeper inside of you. 

Once he calms down, he slowly removes his thumb before carefully pulling out of your pussy, and you whimper at the empty feeling. 

“Stay here,” he whispers, kissing your hip before scrambling to the bathroom for a warm, damp washcloth. 

He gently wipes you off, murmuring about how good you did for him, saying he’s proud of you before he helps you roll over onto your back. 

He chuckles at the goofy smile on your lips, eyes tired and droopy, and he pushes the hair that had matted to your skin with sweat out of your face.

“You okay?” He asks, voice low, and you nod happily. 

“‘M perfect.” 

“Good,” he smiles, pulling the comforter over you and cuddling up to your spent body. 

You lay in silence for a moment, happy and relaxed in his arms, before you speak up.

“So, you never hated me?” 

“Jesus Christ, Bun,” he sighs exasperatedly, “go to sleep.”

[whispereons]

Oracle!Reader Part 25

Masterlist - Part 1, Part 24

Warning! My au is yandere and can detail gore. This chapter doesn't but previous chapters do.

The setting sun against the soft orange and yellows of the sky was a beautiful sight.

The hot wind cooled down into a warm breeze as people leisurely walked home, while others rushed to finish last minute tasks.

Inside Xinyue Kiosk, a fairly busy staff was running around as the weekend always brought more customers. 

The only room that didn't have staff running in and out of was a VIP seating set on the top floor. A beauty for sure, but no one other than the needed servers were allowed in.

Smoke was blown into the air between two imposing figures while waiters placed a variety of foods onto the wide circular table.

“You reported a successful mission, Yelan, and even got your payment.” Another inhale of tobacco through a pipe was followed with a lazy exhale. “Yet that Oracle still walks around without fear. I don't believe the revival of the deceased is possible just yet.”

Scoffing, Yelan popped another spicy appetizer into her mouth and let Ningguang wait for her answer.

“I said they were shot off a cliff and landed with a splatter on the ground. Should I have taken a picture with a Kamera as proof too?” 

Ningguang’s claw-like nails tapped on the table as she hummed contemplatively. “I assume you'll resume your hunt to finish the job?”

“My, how perceptive of the Tianquan to guess that I, who was severely injured and recently humiliated by a foreign smart mouth, wouldn't correct my mistake.”

The glowing blue dice in Yelan's hands shatters as the strings pull it apart. The hydro particles sharpen back into string as she lazily followed it with her eyes.

Her confident and unfazed demeanor wasn't suited to her beat up appearance. Bandages hidden beneath her clothing made it bulky in odd places, while her hand was stuck in a cast after it was crushed by the Geovishaps.

“That's good and all, but are you even physically fit to track them down? I know Dr. Baizhu refused you from his pharmacy, and he's the only one capable of healing you fast enough for this.” Ningguang paused to feed herself a few bites of Tianshu meat with her chopsticks. “Not to mention, The Oracle was the one who was healed by him instead.”

“I see you enjoy rubbing salt in my wounds.” Unperturbed by Ningguang’s taunts, Yelan crossed her legs as more hydro lines wrapped around the striking scratches on her arms that were left to heal on their own.

“Not that I'm surprised by that. You always did have a sadistic streak. My rare failures are the highlight of your day.” 

Pastel pink lips with a forming purple bruise at the corner were licked despite the pain as Yelan smiled. 

“But pain doesn't stop me, you know as well as I do that it only strengthens me further. And I've had more than enough days to regain my energy.”

Concluding the conversation, Yelan pushes herself off the chair and turns away, with the snow-white coat swaying behind her.

The clink of Ningguang’s cup being set on the table was enough for Yelan to slow down. To pause just in time to hear-

“I don't want you to kill The Oracle.”

Yelan came to a full stop at that.

She had tried to ignore how calm Ningguang was throughout the whole meeting. She had tried to brush off the amount of food Ningguang ordered. 

Furthermore, she even tried to not question Ningguang's change of vocabulary from calling Y/n ‘the faker’ to ‘the oracle’.

Ningguang only smiled politely, the exact way she knew Yelan despised, as the trinkets adorning the hydro user swayed.

“And no, this isn't a joke.” She never fucking thought it was a joke.

“You'll be able to keep your payment too.” She didn't want the damn payment.

Not a trace of fear could be seen in Ningguang’s maroon eyes that stared into emerald tones that never failed to invoke a chill in enemies.

The click of Yelan's heels were the only sound heard as the tassel attached to her collar bounced.

“Then why are you requesting me to stop my pursuit?” The white and gold of Ningguang's outfit clung to her body like second skin as she took her sweet time answering.

“I was a bit too hasty in my judgment. Something greater than us both showed me my error.”

Annoying.

That's how Yelan found Ningguang at times. 

Like she was greater than the rest. As if the Jade Chamber she spent her time in above everyone else placed her above in all other areas as well.

“Are you claiming that Y/N truly is the Oracle? Can the mighty words of the Tianquin prove that alone?”

“Careful Yelan, this kind of outburst isn't like you. I said it was greater than us both.”

Ningguang picked up her cup again and nursed it delicately.

“I simply want you to at least temporarily stop you until I'm sure of what to believe. This is just business, don't take-”

“Yes, yes, I already understand. Don't take it personally.” Yelan had already cooled down at this point.

There was no use in getting worked up over this. Although it was upsetting to find that she failed this job, if the employer no longer wanted it, then she wasn't going to push for it.

Pride and personal feelings should never get mixed up in this line of work, after all.

“I'll reach out to you at a later date for your next commission.” A server placed a piping plate of Cured Pork Dry Hotpot on the table, slipping Ningguang a piece of paper. “Just be sure to give Y/N the correct instructions on how to get here.”

Yelan ignored the Tianquan’s words as she walked to the door. “While I won't take any revenge on Y/N, do not expect me to come running back for this mission when they are inevitably shown to be a scam artist.”

The thought of Ningguang of all people being scammed is absurd. The two words just didn't belong together.

“I'm not one of your employees. You're just a commissioner at the end of the day. You seem to forget that fact.” Green eyes met red as both women masked their own faces with polite sarcasm.

“Don't take it personally.” The soft click of the door being shut left Ningguang in silence, with only the outside's bustle of activity to accompany her.

Amusement was clear on Ningguangs face as she took another long inhale of the pipe.

“Yelan never changes.”

--------------------

You didn't have much time left.

The sun was beginning to get masked by incoming gray clouds that no one seemed to notice before now.

It was funny how the first droplets started to come down on the woman you were arguing with when you asked for the time.

A single request for the time devolved into an argument about how all foreigners were suspicious and that only Morax deserved the title of Archon.

It was typical that you ended up asking the local nut job for the time. What would she even be? Racist? Godist? Archonist? 

Maybe it’s ethnocentrism.

So you just blindly believed that the dinner must be soon and left to the restaurant after watching a stream of water single her out and dump her with water.

A shame you couldn't enjoy it with how your stomach was cramped up from the upcoming meeting with Ningguang. You haven't been this nervous since your first meeting with your boss back on Earth.

It made sense. Both people were powerful, mysterious and used people without a second thought. 

The chilly breeze slowed your heartbeat as Xinyue Kiosk came into view, approaching the stairs leading up to the entrance, you spotted a very familiar figure next to the waitress.

Not slowing down, you walk up the stairs as jade eyes lock onto you with malice on the verge of hatred. A tsk leaves Yelan’s lips before she turns back to the waitress while pointing at you. “This is the Tianquan’s guest. Lead them to the room.”

Nodding, the waitress waits for you as you move past Yelan who doesn’t spare you another glance. Just as you followed the waitress into the entrance, the rain began to pour without warning.

You just barely caught sight of Yelan slipping on the last step due to the rain as her wet hair stuck to her skin. The door closed before she could see your little smile at her ‘misfortune’. 

It was a shame that Teyvat couldn’t help you in more meaningful ways, but these minor instances weren’t taken for granted either.

Following the waitress past multiple tables, you looked around it curiously. Usually the game just cuts straight to the room, so you never got a good look at the restaurant itself. Most of them looked to be regular customers with tables near each other.

Farther in, you could see a shift in the layout and type of customers. Larger tables with big gaps as the customers wore fancy clothing clearly made of high quality silk and cotton. A table with blue hair caught your eye the most.

A bored looking Xingqiu sat next to an older man with navy blue hair. His hair was tied in the most pitiful ponytail you’ve ever seen, but at least his fancy suit looked nice.

It took you a bit but you finally remembered it as the skin from the 4.4 Lantern Rite event. You almost missed how Xingqui noticed your presence and excitedly waved at you before his father began to scold him.

Smiling apologetically, you gave a brief wave back before following the waitress up the stairs. Just how much further was Ningguang’s room? It couldn’t have been cheap, that's for sure…

It wouldn’t be that uncomfortable to walk all this way if people could stop staring at you. Half the restaurant had to be giving you a side eye harsh enough to kill as you walked by.

Stopping at a door the waitress pulled it open as thunder roared outside giving a brief flash of white behind the window frame. Licking your lips, you entered the room while the door shut behind you with a soft click.

“I’m glad to see you’ve made time to meet me, Y/n.” The voice of the source of your stress and anxiety was sweet, if not seductive. Moving your eyes from the fresh plates of food to Ningguang who sat at the head of the table, you smiled sharply.

“You make it sound like I had a choice in the matter.” Striding forward, you took a seat on the opposite side of the table and helped yourself to the food. If you were going to die, you’d rather it be quick and with no regrets.

“I apologize for any inconvenience my request may have caused you. I’m sure many people have wanted to speak to you after your unfortunate encounter with Yelan and Miss Shenhe.” Wow, she wasn’t even trying to be subtle.

Taking your sweet time to chew and swallow your food, you leave Ningguang waiting until finally opening your mouth. “Why don’t you skip the sarcastic pleasantries? I already know your true colors, do you think the Creator is as stupid as you are?”

Fuck being nice and polite. She wants to treat you like some dumb foreigner that has no clue on the connections she holds? Then she can handle you acting like the annoyed and irritated person you currently are.

The smiles you both wear are mirror images of each other, the slightest downward tick of her lips showing her displeasure was far too easy to mimic.

“Then that makes things easier for both of us. Do you know why I invited you here to speak with me, Y/n?”

Again, you leave her waiting for your answer as you pick a few more dishes and savor the flavors. The dishes were wonderful, no doubt about that but…

You missed the taste of the hotpot you shared with the Kamisato’s more.

“I had assumed it was an apology for sending Yelan on me like a bloodhound. But perhaps you were just after certain pieces of information that I might hold.” Your mind wandered back to Beidou who had spoken to Ningguang after you gave that prophecy to Beidou on the Crux.

Although it felt like ages ago, it’s been less than a month since you left the Crux. From what you could recall, the prophecy you gave the crew was that all the monsters, Leylines and other strange behaviors were due to the Creator returning. 

Thinking back on it, you did largely gloss over the details to avoid being caught in your lie. Maybe that’s why Ningguang wanted you alive? After all, your words couldn’t be taken lightly after what happened with the Geovishap hatchlings. But she did send Yelan after that incident so unless she was late on hearing the situation, which was frankly impossible, she must have got some new evidence-

“Well, not quite, but it’s related so why don’t you listen to me before casting any judgment?” As if she was anyone to talk but interrupting her wasn’t worth it. Not when you could potentially find something useful.

Ningguang barely touches the food as you scarf it down like a man starved. Instead, she takes a long sip of her tea, purposefully leaving you waiting. Talk about petty, you think to yourself sarcastically as she sets her cup down.

“Recently I had a very unusual dream, I’ve had it once before but in a much different context.” A plain soup is stirred lazily as she stares down at the rippling liquid, she looks pensive with eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly. “Rex Lapis appeared to me the night that Yelan reported a job completed. Now, isn’t that strange?”

You didn��t stop or slow down your chewing as your heart thundered in your chest. Zhongli really appeared in Ningguang’s dream again?! This had to have been what he was telling you earlier about thanking him.

Should you thank him with a smile or a slap for making things more complicated? It’d be easier to decide later.

With Ningguang’s expectant ruby eyes on you, you shrugged your shoulders with an easy smile. “Is it that strange? The Oracle of the Creator that we all worship had just been shot down by the orders of the Qixing that are from his own region. It would be an insult to the Creator to not step in.”

An amused hum leaves Ningguang as she listens to your words. Still not touching her soup, she set her utensils down to fold her hands. “Rex Lapis did not speak to me the first time he appeared to me. But this time he did, only saying one sentence. Can you guess what it is?”

The urge to roll your eyes at the predictable question was strong but your self-control was stronger. “It would be confirmation of me being the Oracle, of course. Anything else would be blasphemous.” 

“Do not be bewitched by novelties.”

The absurd and out of place words earned Ningguang your undivided attention. Your mouth opened to portray your shock and confusion, but your lips quirked to the side at the last moment in a disbelieving smile.

“Are you trying to say that, that sentence is what the Geo Archon said?”

“It is indeed.” Oh, you were going to smack Zhongli after this, screw the consequences! “I believe it’s safe to assume that he was talking about you.” A black gloved hand with gold claw like pieces attached were outstretched to you as she smiled down at you. 

“It’s just as you said, ‘It would be an insult to the Creator to not step in’ when someone is claiming to be connected to our All Mighty Creator only to be proven false. ‘Anything else would be blasphemous’ no?”

Wow, you were right to hate Ningguang. Her smile became as sharp as her nails as you relaxed back in your chair. You couldn’t give her anymore ammo. Any sign of hesitation, nervousness, or even a waiver of emotional instability is all she needed to corner you. 

In fact, this could all be a bluff! Zhongli truly believed you to be the Oracle, after all. Chances are that Ningguang altered Zhongli’s message to test you. Zhongli wouldn’t betray you, he wouldn’t…

Would he?

“And how am I supposed to blindly believe your words? After all, the first time Morax came to your dream you claimed that despite how much you wanted to tell him, you couldn’t say a single word.”

But it seems your reply was just a tad too late, as the heavy pounding of boots on wood flooring came from behind you. Pulling your eyes from blood-red ones to the Millelith guards now behind you, a hand grabs your hair and pushes you down.

The crack of the plates breaking and cutting into your jaw is only overshadowed by the food smearing your mask and skin. The humiliation is what really gets you riled up, but you swallow it down in favor of looking back to the modernized embodiment of mora herself.

“Is this really necessary? I wasn’t even getting up from my seat.” There’s a slight growl to your words that you don’t bother to mask as Ningguang lets her gaze move from you to the guards.

“They have a point. Release them, I only told you to use force if they display hostility.” Ningguang’s tone of voice is even, and not the usual professional kind. The soldier’s grip tightens for a brief, painful moment, before finally letting go and stepping back.

“My sincerest apologies for my misconduct, Lady Ningguang.” The soldier that touched you bowed to Ningguang as you glared at him. “But I implore you to take my reasoning into consideration.”

Pushing away the now destroyed dishes as a few servers cleaned up the mess, you listened halfheartedly to the soldier. “This person - no, this thing is the one responsible for the kidnapping and subsequent death of the most vulnerable children in this region.”

Blatantly, you sneered at the soldier while wiping off the food from your face. How dare he, a full-blown soldier no doubt trained to protect Liyue Harbor, accuse you of being the kidnapper when you were the one who saved them?!

Every soldier that you met when information gathering was more useless than the last!

Ningguang knew the truth, Xingqiu and Chongyun both told you how the Qixing were aware that you were the actual hero. Whipping your head to her, you stared at her to see just what answer she would give.

“Even still, disobeying my orders is enough cause for punishment. Return to the Ministry of Civil Affairs and have them send a different guard who can follow orders rather than emotions.”

The guard slumped at the scolding and glared bitterly at you, as you flipped him off in return. While watching him stomp away, you cursed Ningguang out internally.

She definitely knew the truth but was purposefully keeping her statements vague. Almost as if she was entertaining the idea of you being the one responsible. 

“I want you two to guard the door so Y/n doesn’t escape during this conversation. Do not make the same mistake as Zhenhai.”

It was her.

Ningguang’s the one who spread that rumor that’s messing up your reputation. You should have guessed it earlier. Only she could have the intelligence to figure out the truth, the connections to spread her lie, and the power to make it have a physical effect.

But why? What did she gain from it?

Lost in thoughts and possibilities, you didn’t notice how Ningguang observed you. Beige strands rest on her shoulders to flow down her back till the ashen tips pool on her seat. Yet the blood-red of her eyes shine with something akin to fascination as she watches your fingers thrum against the wooden table.

What a delight for the eyes.

The silence is interrupted by the door opening and fake cat ears come into view. A new soldier closes the door behind the Yueheng before standing guard as she takes a seat without asking.

“I hope I’m not too late. It seems my invitation to this crucial dinner got lost in the journey.” Keqing began with a pointed look at Ningguang.

Smiling, Ningguang greeted Keqing in a pleasant but professional manner. “What an unfortunate result. At least you were able to attend now, hm? They are bringing out golden shrimp balls soon too.”

Judging by the slight twitch in Keqing’s demeanor, you can tell that she was simultaneously both annoyed and grateful. What a shame, you could have used her annoyance towards Ningguang.

“A pleasure to meet you once again Y/n, Yun Jin was very thankful for your quick and efficient help.” Smiling once you’re addressed, you nod and squeeze your hands together under the table.

Yun Jin’s name still shot a vague feeling of displeasure through your body. And Keqing acting like it was nothing only further enhanced it.

“Her show was magnificent. I’m glad she was able to successfully perform that day.” Waiters and waitresses brought out some more drinks and refilled Ningguang’s tea without interrupting as you began to speak.

“Let’s not beat around the bush any longer. Keqing, you joined us here to help conclude whether I’m truly an Oracle or not, right?”

Ningguang watched coolly as Keqing’s smile relaxed into nothingness, while her stare became firm. “That is correct. But please, focus on what Ningguang brought up first concerning her dream gifted by Rex Lapis. I’ll be making my own judgment by the end of this dinner.”

Nodding, you shrug your shoulders and twirl your cup without looking at it. “That seems fair. The outcome will be the same regardless.” The confidence behind your eyes is shown in the way you smile and relax into your seat.

“Ningguang, you still haven’t answered my question as to why I should even believe your dream even happened and if so, whether those words are what Morax said. But I’ll let it go for now and focus on something else for the moment.”

Jabbing a thumb behind you at the silent guard, you speak with a mock curious tone. “Just why in the world are people assuming that I’m the one that kidnapped the children when I was the one who saved them?”

Magenta eyes meet red before both pairs turn to you. “And please don’t treat me like a fool.”  Resting your cheek on your palm, you sweetly spoke with a threat lingering in your words. “I already know that Ganyu couldn’t convince you both to think it was her who saved them.”

Ningguang sighs as if disappointed in your demeanor while setting her cup down. “The official details on the commission you took on are under wraps, just as the contract requires.” She looks down on you with her calm refusal as she finishes. “The Liyue Qixing isn’t responsible for what circulates and twists when it comes to word of mouth.”

You refuted her excuse just as fast. “I wasn’t asking the Qixing or the Tianqiuan. I was asking Ningguang.” Using your fingers, you begin to count the different instances of hostility.

“I’ve had people insult me, ignore me, discriminate against me, gossip behind my back and just as you saw before, even go as far as to be violent. If I went to Yanfei with this case against your personal guard Zhenhai I’m sure I could get a good settlement and put some bad light on you. Not anything serious, but surely annoying for you and the Qixing.”

Ningguang cleverly disguises her huff of irritation as her blowing steam off her tea, but you were just a little more observant than she gave you credit for.

“Should I even bring up how almost every medical equipment possible was either sold out or out of stock? The coincidence of it happening just as I was released from Bubu’s Pharmacy is a little too much to believe-”

“You’re still doing that Ningguang?” Keqing cuts you off accidentally to send an exasperated glare at Ningguang who only looked at her coldly in return. It seems you found something interesting to use. “It’s one thing to make my favorite dish out of stock, but it’s another to keep a medical necessity out of reach.”             

“So I was right to believe that this was also your doing Ningguang?” You said with a laugh as Keqing looked confusedly between you and Ningguang who nearly glowered at you. “You didn’t tell Keqing either? Isn’t that just swell, I’ll fill her in on it while you prepare your excuse.”

The way Ningguang bristled at your insult filled you with spiteful pleasure. Turning to Keqing who gave you a wary look, you began to explain with a smirk. “It seems, while I was being hunted down by Yelan under Ningguang’s orders, the high and mighty Tianquin took it upon herself to ruin my reputation with her lies. You do remember interrogating Ganyu about who rescued the kidnapped children?”

“Yes…” Keqing answers with a suspicious glare as the servers placed fresh food on the table. Just how many damn servings did Ningguang order? “How did you even know-ah it must have been those boys.”

Knowing exactly who Keqing was referring to, you just nod while piling more food onto your plate. “Well the rumor about me being the one to spread it was being perpetuated during my absence and truly came to a head when I finally returned to Liyue Harbor. I have a certain Lady Ningguang to thank for it.”  You sneered while pointing at her.

Keqing’s eyes widened as she listened to you, certain things must have been made clear to her too. “That explains why so many people came asking for an explanation on the Geovishap Hatchling incident.” Holding her chin with a pensive expression, she continued. “It also provides a good reasoning as to why you pushed me to give that public response even when our evidence was still shaky.”

… Why did you get a bad feeling at that?

Just what kind of statement was released? 

With a fixed forced smile you stare at Ningguang who frowns at you before chuckling. “There isn’t any more reasoning for me to stay silent on the matter. Calm yourself Keqing, you as well Y/n.”

Folding her hands on her lap, Ningguang stared you down as she began. “Yes, I did create and encourage the rumor of you being the true mastermind behind the kidnapping. You were already beginning to become well known by the people considering how close you are to certain people and due to the false prophesy you shared with Captain Beidou.”

“Not false, my prophecy is very much true-”

“And while I am happy to have the children saved, we can’t let you walk around spreading lies about your identity, position and relation to the Creator. Especially after the Geovishap Hatchling incident showing just dangerous you are.”

“I didn’t have anything to do with the hatchlings. I was just as stunned as everyone else.” It’s a weak argument with no evidence showing otherwise, but you couldn’t let them slap that offense on you.

“The statement released about you was connected to the hatchlings.” Keqing cut in with a grimace. “From what we can gather based off your past actions and achievements, you having the ability to puppeteer monsters is the most likely outcome, and we told the public as much.”

Shit.

They were so far off yet closer than anyone else.

“I can’t and didn’t command those Geovishaps. Even if I could, what would I gain from ordering them to do so? It puts suspicion on me. I have no motive, and it was defamation to single me out and slander me in such a way without evidence.”

Turning back to Ningguang you asked with clenched fists nearly trembling with anger. “You haven’t explained everything. What was your goal in mind with vilifying me? Just damaging my reputation is not reason enough to spend precious time and resources on me.”

The food was beginning to grow cold, but you didn’t have the appetite to eat anymore. Ningguang didn’t look at you, but the humor she previously had was nowhere to be found.

“It’s a shame that someone as sharp as you is using their skills for such sad and disappointing reasons.”

“There is nothing to be ashamed of by being the Creator’s Oracle, no matter what trial and tribulations I must face.” Wow, you even impressed yourself with how serious and authentic you sounded.

“So you say.” Lithe fingers took out her pipe and leisurely left you waiting as you stared at her. Only after blowing it into your face did she finish. “What do you think would have happened if the foreigner with such a charismatic presence was suddenly found dead after rescuing children? How do you think the public would have reacted?”

Mind racing at her words, the surrounding setting seemed to fade away as your ears only picked up on Ningguang’s words. 

“Now imagine they appear back in the city, injured but alive to tell the tale. Influential people and the like come to visit as their good deeds are spread within the city. A fresh face on the scene with information that even extended to knowing about private conversations I’ve had. How many people with grudges too high and old to handle alone would come, offering a helping hand, a mutual beneficial contract that could help the ‘wronged’ foreigner?”

“Haha… Hahaha!” You’re laughing before you know it. A hand on your mouth, grinning so wide that it could break your face in half. Keqing’s surprised expression as she eats and Ningguang’s stoic expression are barely processed as you keep laughing.

It’s all so funny.

It’s all so fucking absurd.

You weren’t even greatly physically impacted by the lies. It was more like drops of water into a bucket for you.

But that bucket was already on the verge of overflowing and there was no hole for you to drain the water.

The fact that Ningguang needed to lie and make such stupid leaps of logic to libel you just so that the aftermath of your death wasn’t a hassle was simultaneously hilarious and pitiful. Adding in the extra benefit of it forcing you into a corner where no one would be willing to help you was just that to her. 

An extra benefit.

Maybe normal people would fall for the lies and not want to associate with you, but people of higher status would know better. They could tell when someone is being purposefully lied about. It was like an invisible mark on you, telling everyone that trying to help you was making an enemy of Ningguang.

That would explain why Xingqiu and Chongyun were suddenly pulled away by their families. All to corner you to being forced to meet Ningguang, forced to accept whatever accusation she wants to slap on you.

“You really are a piece of shit.” You said with a grin once your laughing slowed to a stop. 

Ningguang really mustn’t have expected it as her face visibly contorted into shock and her pipe slipped from her fingers. It’s understandable.

Most people in your position would already be begging for mercy, but even those who had more pride and fight would just go on a tirade and rage. To any outsider, you were far too calm for your position.

Besides, who would ever dare disrespect the Tiantquian not only to her face but right in front of the Yuheng too?

“Since you finished saying your piece, I’ll begin saying mine too. It’s clear that you don’t want to see reason or the truth for what it is.” Standing up, you push your seat away as the guards suddenly come to attention. “Since you don’t want to admit that I’m the Oracle, why don’t we focus on Liyue as a whole?”

With hands behind your back, you casually walked around the table closer to Ningguang as she put her hand up to stop the guards. “Let’s start with the kidnapping case. Not only were the soldiers useless in almost every aspect, both within and outside the city, but they also can’t even distinguish petty problems from the serious ones.” 

Stopping behind Ningguang you looked straight at the guards as you asked. “What’s more important? Chasing down rouge kidnappers or chasing a musician without a permit?” Both soldiers opened their mouth to answer, but Ningguang stopped them with a wave.

“This has nothing to do with the topic on hand. Stop avoiding your own faults and sins, Y/n.” She raised her cup to her lips as she looked at you with a turn of her head.

“Oh, but it does. It has everything to do with all the points you brought up.” Your hand snatched the cup from her opposite side as she glared indignantly at you. Keqings muffled laughter only made you grin wider as you returned to your seat. “This city has a lot of problems, but I am not one of them.”

“The fact that no one was willing to help me aside from Xingqiu and Chongyun, who both know me to be the Oracle, truly says a lot on how you and the Qixing run this city.” Sitting back down, you place the cup in the middle of the table, just out of her reach.

“So how could I not find it insulting that I, the only person to accept this commission, the driving force behind the operation, ended up the one taking the blame for it all. All for what exactly? To corner me when you didn’t even have proper reasoning to corner me in the first place?”

“We have every right to-”

“Shut the fuck up.” You snapped with a clearly disgusted face. Ningguang wasn’t as shocked this time and sneered right back at you. Honestly, you envied Keqing the most, who was pleasantly eating the golden shrimp balls while watching you both.

“You heard multiple varying information about me and continuously chose to listen to the ones that painted me in the worst light possible. Yet instead of conducting your own investigation, instead of relying on chance encounters, you sent out Yelan to deal with me, basically leaving her to deal her own judgement on me.” Throwing your hands up in the air, you nearly yell at Ningguang. “Who the hell fed only the bad information on me! Did you even tell her about how Beidou vouched for me? Or about how Beisht listened to me?”

“Yelan has all the skills, qualifications, and experience necessary to do a thorough investigation and choose an accurate judgement. You’re free to take it up with her if you want to continue pleading your case.”

This wasn’t going anywhere. It was like talking to a brick wall. A very judgmental and snarky brick wall.

It seems you’ll have to resort to it after all.

“Yet out of all the crimes you could possibly pin me with, it’s the one on the case that I solely took on that you chose? Is it because you knew that no one in this damned city would give a shit about them? Because you knew that while no one wanted to take on the responsibility of acknowledging and helping the homeless, everyone would be more than happy to blame someone tangible for it?”

Ningguang faltered at that, it was brief but present.

“Or do you really hate your origins to that extent? Do you loathe the homeless that you once stood beside?”

Thunder roared outside as your words were spoken. The look on her face veered off the edge of hatred and into murder. The metaphorical slap your words provided weren’t to be taken lightly after all.

Perfect straight teeth dug into her lips as her nails dug into her hands, uncaring for how the blood stained her black gloves till even her gold pieces shined with it.

What a delight to behold.

“How dare you bring up this topic-”

If you can’t reach her level of perfection. 

“Spreading this level of nonsense, just how-”

Her level of composure.

“Do you feel no shame-”

 “Do you not feel any shame? I’m not the one who left and never looked back.”

Then you’d simply need to drag her down to yours.

“I have done no such thing!” The table shakes when Ningguang slams her hands down on it, making Keqing quickly lift her plate off as the more precarious plates fell off and shattered.

Grinning, you point and laugh at her, blatantly mocking her as she flushes with embarrassment. 

“You really are shameless, aren’t you? Floating around in your mobile home like a constant beacon of wealth and success. How do you think people feel when they see you up there? Do you think they look on with awe and envy?”

Standing up too, you rest your hands on the table to lean closer. “Or are you aware how all they can see is a symbol of the selfishness and a reminder of how mora can change a person?”

“It bothers you that no one even acknowledged how much of it sacrifice it was to you to give up the first Jade Chamber. Let alone be willing to do it again with its successor.” 

Ningguang’s shaky breath before she sits back down as you mirror her actions is as satisfying as you imagined it. Especially when she no longer focuses on the main topic to instead defend herself. “I’m not and will never be ashamed of my beginnings. I have always kept the past in my mind and actions.”

“Then why did it take an outsider like me to accept the commission to save a girl to save a whole group of homeless kids that we were what? Not missing? Not important enough for the Millelith to get involved in?”

“Should I even mention the underbelly of the docks? Where all the shady deals, vagrant and poverty-stricken people live?” Clapping slowly, you finish with a sarcastic tone. “I have to hand it to you, you really know how to hide them from the public.”

If you were completely honest, you knew Ningguang wasn’t that bad of a person. She was the epitome of a capitalist, and it wasn’t her responsibility to care for every homeless person in Liyue Harbor. 

Some people really did put themselves in their situations after all.

“There's nothing I can do for those who do not wish to be saved. Even if they aren't accepting of my help, I still do my part as the Tianquan to keep Liyue running for those who do want to accept my help.”

Food sitting forgotten on the table and Keqing discreetly ordering another plate of golden shrimp balls, not a soul dared to intervene in the growing argument between you and Ningguang.

“So by fixing the problem on the surface, your job is done? The ones who actually need help and want to better their lives are shoved in a corner to rot with the actual bad apples for the next Tianquian to deal with?”

“Twisting my words and shoving even more in my mouth to ‘win’ this argument isn’t the best idea.”

“Don’t get so offended Ningguang, all leaders are like you. Some even worse.” A few political figures from Earth flash in your mind as you speak. Sighing, you refocus back to Teyvat, knowing that your words would be too confusing if you tried to use anyone from Earth.

“Take the glorious Raiden Shogun or whatever other titles she uses.” Sarcasm coated your words as you spoke with a drawl. “Vagrants, the Nobushi and Kairagi are suffering from addictions, diseases and more without aid. Once well respected samurai that fell for one reason or another are left to suffer and commit crimes. Dying by their diseases, stealing from the poor and worse crimes are committed with the only outcomes being to die by the hands of defenders or by Tenryou soldiers.”

In your eyes, Inazuma was a mess. So many people died on the islands separate from Narukami Island. The vagrants were a constant and growing threat, most of the actual problems were solved by the traveler, yet the shogun picked a needless war that resulted in nothing but pain.

 Just how did this conversation derail from being about you being the oracle to this? It was tiring and at this point you nearly wanted to give in and just leave.

“Are you saying that you find Liyue better simply due to how it treats its people?” Ningguang asked, the slight smile on her face made you suspicious.

“Liyue isn’t better. Liyue is a standard, and Inazuma is just failing horribly in comparison. But who knows? Maybe in a few decades, it can compare to Sumeru who only recently got their God.”

“So what of the people in Inazuma? Are the Tri-Commision as bad as the Shogunate?”

“Despite the obvious bribery in both the Tenryou and Kanjou Comission, they do, do their damn job, The Yashiro Comission even goes above and beyond in comparison. They’re the reason Inazuma hasn’t lost its entire population.”

“So if you’re really the Oracle then how do you plan to help them?” Ningguang asks it in an analytical tone. As if she plans on judging your ‘plans’ when she’s the fucking Tianqiuan.

“I don’t need to make any plans. I don’t have a position in Teyvat.”  The retort comes with a little bite to your tone.

“You seem so certain that you’re the Oracle that I wanted to hear what your plans were for having that position.”

Did she believe that you made up this position for your own benefit? Well yes, yes you did, but certainly not for the financial benefit she seems to be imagining. “Let me straighten something out for you, Ningguang, Cause for as high and mighty you believe yourself to be, you don’t know everything. I’m not the traveler. My job isn’t to bend over backwards to do your job, it’s to prophecy about matters concerning the Creator. If the Creator told me about Liyue’s destruction and ordered me to stay silent, I would happily do so and watch every citizen drown without batting an eye, understand?”

Whatever reaction you were expecting didn’t happen as Ningguang began to laugh. But it wasn’t the mocking or condescending laughter she had before. Instead, she seemed truly amazed or even relieved.

“I understand now. I can now accept you as the Oracle by my own judgment, too.” 

The confusion and slight perturbation at her words must have been on your face as she slowed her laughter to a mere chuckle.

“I apologize for what I’m about to tell you. You remember the dream I had concerning Rex Lapis? Well, I may have twisted his words for my own cause.”

You were fucking right, but you couldn’t even enjoy it, since it took you nearly an hour to get to this point in the conversation.

“If you weren’t the Tianquin, you would be in some serious legal trouble Ningguang. I can name at least 3 different laws you almost broke.” Keqing surprisingly spoke up at this moment. Honestly, you had forgotten about her, not that she seemed to mind.

“You can scold Ningguang after she enlightens me to what his true message was. How much mora should I bet that he was confirming me as the oracle?” Ignoring the snark, Ningguang clears her throat before snapping her fingers and motioning to the dirty plates on the table. The workers took the plates away before she dramatically rested her elbows on the now cleared table.

“Not every bewitching novelty is meant to cause harm, some lead to everlasting contracts.”

Maybe you should still punch Zhongli, what kind of help was that supposed to be?! Couldn’t he be direct rather than poetic?!

“That message was vague but clear enough for me to link it to you. Thus, I decided to invite you here to see if you really did deserve the title of Oracle and whether we could trust you or not.”

What a load of bullshit-

“I agree with Ningguang on this. While many things seemed suspicious concerning you, this conversation was helpful for us to see your real motives and future actions.”

And of course Keqing had to agree with the smirking vixen, making you calmly nod in response. This whole dinner felt like a haze to you at least point. 

Not only did you have to prove that being an Oracle was real, attack Ningguang on several personal points and proceed with many, many leaps in logic. Just to find out, that she fucking knew the truth all along!

You weren’t even going to get compensation for all the troubles she caused, either.

It was clear to you why no one wanted to mess with Ningguang outside the usual bankruptcy. She was too annoying and petty as hell for anyone to want to deal with.

“I recognize that I did you a disservice by having Yelan investigate you before this dinner. For that, I do apologize and even have an offer for you.” 

If it wasn’t money or connections, you didn’t want it.

“I’ll provide you with monetary compensation as long as you give a detailed speech and answer questions about the Creator’s return in my ‘mobile home’ as you called it.”

“If you didn’t know or remember, my presence and journey here is supposed to be discreet-”

“How does 5 million mora sound to start?”

… Maybe Ningguang wasn’t that bad after all.

“When do I have to give this speech? If it’s just the members of the Qixing, I’ll do it, but not publicly.”

Distantly you can hear Keqing sigh as Ningguang smiled pleasantly at you but you couldn’t hear it over the imaginary clinking of mora coming into your bag.

Money is what forced you to accept Ningguang’s offer for dinner. Much like on Earth, money is power.

It's done, it's finished and I'm even more tired then before. My last chapter was when my semester was ending and my new chapter is just as my semester is going to start. Please blame my job, my bills and Sandrock for the reason behind why this one took so long. I've been writing small things, mostly on Wattpad since it's just easy, but I feel like my writing style is constantly changing. Or it's just me again. But whatever the case, I've just been doing that to not get too rusty. Ningguang is hard to write for, mostly in relation to the reader rather then with other people. Not sure why, it just feels that way. It was a struggle to end the conversation with her but ultimately it works. Ningguang is just too canonically powerful to not have the upper hand in every way. Even still this chapter was also hard to write because I had to use so much thinking and planning to keep things consistent not only to the game but also to the other chapters. My au isn't one of extreme violence so I'm aware that it's harder to become engaged or see how threatening this version of Teyvat is. Quick update before I post, I either will answer everything or nothing as my youngest cat might need to go into surgery soon. The little vacuum ate metal while I was at work and the vet already said that if he does get surgery he might not make it.

Taglists is open as always and hopefully won't be struck down by Tumblr! [Tumblr made some changes to the tagging system so I'm not sure if it's working like before. If your name is there and not in italics yet you weren't tagged then let me know.]

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[you-have-a-metal-arm]

‘Til The End of The Line

Pairing: Bucky x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: Mentions of blood, shooting and getting hurt

Summary: You get injured in a mission, and Bucky cannot bear to see you in such state.

Author's Note: Please do not copy or translate my work. English is not my first language, so please understand grammar or spelling mistakes.

I am so sorry for being gone (school’s been killing me)

I appreciate every feedback! Thank you for reading, enjoy!

“Ready to kick some ass, kiddo?” Steve’s voice was calm, almost soothing, but you could hear the adrenaline beneath his words as the two of you adjusted your parachutes. The jet engines hummed around you, a subtle reminder of the mission ahead.

You grinned, giving your suit one last check and tightening your grip on the gun in your hand. “Yeah, I’m gonna beat the shit out of them.”

Steve smiled, not bothering to correct your language. With him, you were always an exception.

Moments later, the wind was whipping against your face as you both jumped from the jet, splitting off into the night sky. Steve took the left wing—the more dangerous side—leaving you the right. Tony had assured you it was safer, but as you slid through the narrow gap in the door, the freezing cold hit you like a wall. The air inside was frigid, bitterly reminding you of Bucky’s stories about the winters he hated so much.

“As far as I can see, it’s clear here. How’s the situation there?” Steve’s voice crackled through the comms, full of concern. You knew he cared for you deeply, saw you as the daughter he never had, and would have taken a bullet to ensure your safety.

“It’s clear here too, Cap,” you replied, trying to ease his worry.

“Let’s stick to the plan: I’ll draw out the agents while you head straight to the operations room and grab their file IV data.”

“Copy that. Be safe, Cap—and I mean it. If you need help, just call me.”

“I will, kiddo. Be safe yourself. And promise to call me if you need anything.”

“I promise. Let’s fucking go.”

You raced through the deserted corridors of the right wing, a dagger in one hand and a fully loaded gun tucked into your suit for emergencies. The cold air bit at your skin, the silence amplifying every footstep. Suddenly, a loud, thunderous noise echoed behind you. Instinctively, you thought it was Steve, but it wasn’t. The sound was coming from your side of the building.

Before you could react, you were ambushed by over twenty armed agents.

On the other side of the wing, Steve was facing his own battle. He tossed a grenade down a hallway, expecting a swarm of enemies, but only three agents rushed at him. Something was wrong. There should have been more.

“Shit,” you hissed into the comms, struggling against the overwhelming odds. Steve heard the panic in your voice, but he couldn’t respond—one of the agents had him in a chokehold. His grip tightened on the comms as he heard the unmistakable sound of gunfire, followed by a loud thud that made his blood run cold.

“Kiddo, you okay?” Steve managed to gasp out, but all he got in return was a pained groan.

“I’ll get to you in less than a minute, I promise,” he said, desperation creeping into his voice. He could hear your labored breathing through the comms, and it was tearing him apart.

“Steve…” Your voice was faint, each word a struggle.

“Hmm?” he replied, trying to sound reassuring despite the dread clawing at his chest.

“Are the comms… still being recorded?”

Steve’s heart sank. He knew what you were doing, and he hated it. “Yes, kiddo, if there weren’t any changes to the plans, it’s on record.”

You exhaled shakily, the breath catching in your throat. There was only one person you needed to reach out to. “Buck…”

As soon as Steve heard the name, he knew the weight of what you were about to say. Even after four years of being together, Bucky’s name still brought shivers to your spine, thick with emotion.

“If by any chance you get to listen to this, Buck—”

“Y/N, kiddo, no, you’re not dying. I won’t let that happen.”

“You don’t know that…” Your voice was helpless, a reflection of your dwindling strength.

“Just stay there. I’m on my way. Please, don’t give up on us.”

But a part of Steve knew this might be your last moment. It was an instinct, a gut-wrenching feeling that he couldn’t shake. So he didn’t stop you from saying what you needed to.

“If you get a chance to listen to this…” You fought to keep your eyes open, tears mingling with the blood on the cold metal floor. Your mind flashed with the future you had imagined—a life with Bucky, growing old together, watching your children grow up. “In another life, we might—maybe we could have grown old together.”

Steve’s heart clenched as your voice wavered. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing you, but he knew there was nothing he could do except listen.

“I wish I could have given you babies,” you continued, your voice cracking with emotion. “Watched them grow in our backyard… I’m sorry that I can’t be the one to give you that life.”

Your vision blurred as sleepiness started to consume you. You fought against it with everything you had, but the darkness was closing in. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry that this is how it ends for us… I’m really sorry.”

“And if this is how it really ends… Promise me you’ll find someone else to love, to open up to. Find someone else… Call someone else ‘doll.’ And don’t grieve too much.”

The darkness was overwhelming now. You felt it pulling you under, felt the life draining from your body as blood poured from your wounds. “You deserve to be happy… And the past doesn’t—doesn’t define you.”

Your last words were barely a whisper. “I… Love you, Buck. And I’m sorry I couldn’t say that more often.”

And then… silence. The darkness consumed you, and Steve heard nothing but the empty static of the comms. He refused to believe it, refused to accept that you were gone. He sprinted through the hallways, throwing open every door until he found you, lying motionless on the floor, your suit stained crimson with blood.

He scooped you up as if you weighed nothing, his legs pumping with every ounce of energy he had left. The jet’s engines hummed steadily, but inside the cabin, chaos reigned. Steve knelt beside you, his hands trembling as he assessed your injuries. The bullets had done their damage—one near your heart, another through your stomach, and the last through your left arm. Blood pooled beneath you, soaking through your suit.

“Kiddo, hang in there, please,” Steve murmured, his voice tight with fear. He grabbed the medical kit from the overhead compartment, spilling its contents across the floor. His hands worked quickly, tearing open a pack of gauze and pressing it firmly against the wounds. The bleeding was relentless, and he knew he needed to act fast to save your life.

You were pale, your breathing shallow and irregular. It was a miracle you were still breathing at all. Steve knew he had to stabilize you before they landed, or you wouldn’t make it. His mind raced through the limited medical training he had received—enough to get through emergencies, but nothing like this.

He fumbled with an IV kit, his hands shaking as he tried to insert the needle into your arm. Your veins were fragile, but after what felt like an eternity, he got it in. He attached a bag of saline solution, knowing it was only a temporary measure.

“Stay with me, kiddo. Buck won’t be so happy about this,” Steve whispered, his voice trembling. Your pulse was faint, but still there. He applied more pressure to the wound, checking if you were breathing again. It was labored, but there were no signs of a collapsed lung, thank God.

He grabbed the portable oxygen mask and gently placed it over your mouth and nose, adjusting the flow to give you the support you desperately needed. Your chest rose and fell slightly more steadily—a small victory amid the chaos.

With one hand still applying pressure to the wound, Steve fumbled with the jet’s communications system. “Friday, please check if the team is ready for immediate surgery.”

“Yes, sir. Mr. Stark has everything prepared, and Dr. Cho is on standby.”

“Can you connect me directly to Tony?”

“Connecting now, sir.”

“Cap, how is she?” Tony’s voice crackled through, tense with concern.

“I think I stabilized her. We’re landing in three minutes, max. Thank God this jet has autopilot, or else… she wouldn’t have made it.”

Tony was silent for a moment. It wasn’t the time for pride or self-congratulation. He was kicking himself for not being more cautious, for not having medics onboard, for underestimating the mission. You were the youngest, the brightest member of the Avengers, and he couldn’t bear to lose you.

Steve checked the wound again. The bleeding had slowed, but it hadn’t stopped. He packed the wound with more gauze, securing it tightly. You needed a blood transfusion, surgery—everything he couldn’t provide here. All he could do was keep you stable until they landed.

“Tony, do me one favor,” Steve said, his voice thick as he wiped the blood from your cheeks. “Please… Don’t let Bucky see her like this. He won’t be able to handle it.”

But Tony’s response was firm. “Sorry, Cap. James already knows. He’s waiting at the airbase. And he has the right to see her.”

Steve nodded, though his heart ached at the thought. “Okay, Tony, thanks… We’re almost there.”

The jet descended, the lights of the airbase coming into view. Steve cradled you close, whispering words of comfort that he wasn’t sure you could hear. “We’re going to make it, kiddo. Just hold on a little longer.”

As the jet landed, the hatch opened to reveal Tony, Dr. Cho, and Bucky. Bucky’s face was ashen, his eyes wide with fear as he took in the sight of you. Steve gently handed you over to Dr. Cho and her team, who rushed you to the medical bay. Bucky stood frozen, staring at the blood that covered Steve’s hands and suit.

“She’s alive, Buck,” Steve said softly, his voice raw with exhaustion. “But she needs you now more than ever. Don’t lose hope.”

Bucky nodded, swallowing hard. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t think beyond the sight of you lying there so still. He followed the team as they wheeled you into surgery, praying with everything he had left that you would survive this.

THANK YOU FOR READING!

THERE’S GOING TO BE A PART 2 by Sunday

Part 2 is up y’all

[lokisgoodgirl]

Supply Closet [Avenger!Loki x Reader]

A Link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: Just some filth in a supply closet tbh. (w/c 1.7k) Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Loki x female reader. Smut. Loki in a V-Neck, semi-exhibitionism, PV/Oral. Established relationship.

You looked over Steve’s shoulder as the door edged open and Loki’s face slid into view.

Steve turned, sighing as he saw the god’s chest sidle through the crack, his fingers curling around the inside handle.

"My sincerest apologies," Loki hummed unapologetically, "-but I need to borrow our darling Agent here. It’s urgent." Steve raised an eyebrow. "How urgent?" he said. "Quite urgent, I assure you.” said Loki gravely.

Another sigh rattled Steve’s chest. He fluffed the papers on the desk before scooting them towards you and leaning back in the chair.

“You heard the man-’ he barked, casting a perishing look over his shoulder. He pulled out his phone as you stood with mumbled apologies, saying you’d be back as soon as you could.

“Doubt it.” Steve said while his keypad beeped.

A smirk began to creep across the feigned innocence of Loki’s expression as you pressed your fingertips against his chest, edging him out the door. “What are you doing?” you hissed as Loki’s smirk grew wider. The door clicked shut behind you. He threw his hands up in remission, mischievous smile in full force. Your fingers grasped around the collar of his v-neck, pulling him into a kiss that knocked the air from his lungs. Loki’s tongue jammed into your mouth, wet kisses waxing and waning against the clash of teeth as you landed him against the wall with a thud. “I missed you,” he gasped as his fingers worked up the base of your neck. “It’s been thirty minutes-” you said, giving the back of his hair a sharp yank. ‘You said twenty-five.’

Loki hissed. His cock was hard and proud against his chinos, stretching in a thick column up to his hipbone and rubbing against your thigh. The v-neck clung like a second skin to the outline of his abdomen; flexing against the muscle with every shallow breath.

“This is a very compromising situation you’ve put me in, Agent-” he growled wet in your ear. You shot a glance to either side of the hallway. “Come on.” you said, sliding a hand down the thick meat of his forearm and linking his hand in yours.

Beside the meeting room there was a humble supply closet. You and Loki bundled inside, closing the door as softly as you could. A nervous giggle erupted from your mouth, immediately silence by Loki’s hungry kiss. He backed you against the shelves at the far end of the closet, catching a mop before it fell without even looking in its direction.

The cleaning supplies gave a brief rattle of discontent. Your pulled at his t-shirt, the quietly expensive material that clung so perfectly to every godly inch of him sliding through your fingers. You whined into his open mouth.

The god replaced his lips with a silencing finger. He kicked your feet apart with practiced skill; the finger pulling at your bottom lip as he sank to his knees.

Loki looked up from smouldering eyes beneath a dark line of lashes, brows peaking while his hands slid up trembling thighs.

"I want you to listen to me very carefully…" he said solemnly. His eyes flashed in the way they only did when he was interrogating a suspect. An enemy. You’d told him how you almost came when you’d worked a mission together recently and seen it in action. And now, it was time to play.

Loki’s voice was commanding even through a whisper. "You’re going to cum in my mouth, darling..." he said. "I want to be absolutely dripping. Drowning. Tasting you for days. I want you to ride my tongue like its your route to freedom. Do you understand?" You nodded mutely, hand clasped over your mouth as his thighs spread wider on the tiled floor.

"And then – I’m going to fuck you." Loki murmured menacingly, dragging a manicured fingernail against the plump of your thigh- "And you’re going to take all of me, everything I have to give. And you’re going to be quiet. Do you understand?" You nodded again, a small squeak of anticipation erupting. "I’m sorry…" you whispered, unable to contain a smile of utter glee. Loki frowned disapprovingly, but the side of his mouth twitched.

He hoisted one of your legs over his shoulder. Without another word, the god reached up and guided your hands to the back of his head, pressing them into his scalp. On instinct, they tangled in his curls as his tongue met your swollen clit. You let out a shuddering sigh.

The flat of his tongue reached to the back of your slit, already sticky and desperate for him. His nose rested on your mound, disappearing and dragging back on your clit with every breathy gyration of his jaw. Loki’s hand slid to your knee, steadying it from the shakes that had begun. The other pressed up against the back of your thigh near his face, opening more of you to the leisurely lap of his tongue. One of your hands left his hair, grasping at the shelf to the side. Your head fell back, unable to take the sight of the god of mischief spread on his knees; eating your pussy with his eyes closed and his brow creased in pleasure. You thrust against his tongue, each thick stripe and suck of his expert movements making you see stars.

"Loki…" you mouthed as quietly as you could manage as your head fell forward.

He suckled at your clit in worship, filthy moans bubbling in his throat. He opened his eyes, meeting your own as he flattened his tongue and withdrew it...making sure you were watching as he slid it back between your legs. Your grip on his hair tightened.

Loki’s cock was even bigger now- fat and straining against the chinos stretched across his thighs. It twitched for freedom while your hips began to shake; your fingernails scraping against the shelf. With a silent scream, you came shamelessly on his lapping tongue. Loki didn’t stop; easing the flat gently against your pussy as he held you steady to his face.

"Loki," you panted again, patting him on the shoulder. Loki shook his head. In seconds, the crest of another orgasm ran over you like a train; heavy puffs filling the air as you tried not to create a red alert.

"Oh my god, oh my god…" you slurred under your breath, flopping into Loki’s rising body as he stood. He kept your leg elevated, hooking it around his hip. You heard the pop of his trouser buttons, felt the dip of his knees as he hoisted himself free.

"Be a good girl for me, Agent." Loki whispered with a wolfish smile. Hair fell around his face, strands sticking to the glisten coating his lips and chin. You kissed him in response, sucking his bottom lip between your teeth while your arms slid over his shoulders. Loki growled. He dragged his heavy cock between your folds, coating it. "Quiet." he ordered calmly, before bottoming out with a single thrust. It lifted you from the floor. Bottles rattled on the shelf behind, knocking into one another. Loki’s hand steadied one about to fall, his fingers gripping against the shelf when he was done. His hips lilted against your core with the tiniest of movements; stretching your cunt the way he always did. One of his pretty little staggered moans fluttered over your skin. And then, he began to thrust. Loki’s grip tightened on your bare calf, sinking into the soft flesh as he bottomed out again and again. Your fingernails dug deeper into his shoulders, mounds meeting with every fuck between an obscene squelch. The scent of your cum on his mouth with every increasingly heavy breath made you clench, the t-shirt tangling beneath your grasping fingers at his back. You pulled the neckline down, sucking against his chest as his head fell back. Loki’s teeth were gritted to the ceiling, shadows carved into his cheekbones under the single fluorescent light that hung as witness. With every nailing buck of his hips, air was knocked from your lungs. But you kept your word – you were quiet; internally screaming his name as Loki of Asgard fucked you against the bleach and paper towels.

His head fell forward, slutty strands of hair sticking to a thin sheen of sweat on his brow. The effort of restraint was getting to him too, it seemed.

‘Going to cum,’ he mouthed with slanted, subby brows. You nodded, mouth hanging open. Loki’s lips crashed to yours, a force of air pummelling down your throat as he groaned his thundering climax deep into your mouth. His hips shook, the bottles behind you tumbling together. There was a thick crunch as the shelf he was gripping splintered in two. Loki broke from your kiss, moist forehead pressed to yours. He was panting heavily, Norse curses coming jumbled in breathy croaks.

"Fuck…" he choked. You slid your palms up his cheeks, pushing the hair back from his face.

"At least I was quiet," you whispered. Loki chuckled, sighing against your cheek. "This is what you do to me, woman-" he hummed, carefully returning your leg to the floor. There was a delicious throb in your pussy as his cock slid free.

You paused the work of his hand as he attempted to return it to his underwear; crouching down and sucking the remnants of arousal from the tip. He squeezed it from the base, making a fresh pearl appear. You licked it, placing a lingering kiss on the tip and looking up at him as you did it. "Fuck." the god repeated quietly. The hard K lingered.

You caught a glimpse of yourself in a dingy mirror in the corner. Cheeks flushed, makeup smeared, hair...un-salvageable. "We can’t keep doing this, Loki.’ you said decisively. ‘Steve’s not stupid."

“You asked me to come and save you from your scheduled drudgery with Rogers, so I did.” He stepped closer, drawing his nose down your temple, placing a soft kiss at the edge of your ear. “I always will,” he whispered, “you know that.” He wasn’t just talking about the meetings.

"I didn’t think you’d wear the tight v-neck, Loki…" you mumbled, trying frantically to fix your hair into some semblance of non-fucked-outness. "You know what that thing does to me." "Perhaps next time, you can assign an outfit in my possession that does not provoke this reaction," Loki purred, sliding his hands around your hips.

He kissed your neck, slow and deep; working his lips into the curve. "Personally I cannot think of one..." he whispered coyly in your ear.

A/N. Just a little note to say that my posting schedule (such as it is) is dropping slightly (actually, it already has - but I like being structured, so here we are) I'm planning to post a oneshot every two weeks for the foreseeable, at least the next few months. This will most likely be a Wednesday, as per 🤗

So, Wednesday March 13th, Wednesday March 27th and so on.

I'm balls deep in a project which I am SO EXCITED ABOUT and it's taking up a lot of time (which is great, because it's fun!) but as you know, my Loki stories and little fantasies mean the world to me and I love being involved here, it makes me really happy, so that's also very important. This way, I can manage both♥️

I know there will be no complaints, I'm aware how lucky I am to have some of the kindest, sweetest readers around. I just wanted to solidify The Plan™️. I'm still here in between posting dates with my usual nonsense obv, no change there 🤣🕵️

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[sortagaysortahigh]

Operation Exemies to Lovers | Cregan Stark

A/N: Now yall know i have not written and finished a fic in a hot minute so sorry if this reads a bit wonky. Yk I'm an enemies to lovers and exes to lovers girl, so why not combine them both into a modern!cregan stark fic? Also, this is dialogue heavy as that's kind of my thing, if it's not yours, welpt keep scrolling boo I aint mad!. I also fixed the inc*st family tree so you'll see that in this as well (i'll prob keep it for future modern AUs). Anyways lmk what you think and enjoy! Also, I suck at summaries so I pull quotes from my fics, sorry not sorry pookies

Summary: “So y’know those sappy novels Hel’s always reading, anyways I asked her about them and she had one where the two main characters were like totally at ends with each other but their friends were like ‘nah they should be smashing’ so we think, based on our research and our scholarly source-Helaena, we should force them to be around each other until they finally talk it out! Or well, y’know-f*ck it out”

Warnings: cussing, spelling and grammar errors (sue me!), kissing, mentions of smut/allusions to smut but no smut, arguing, Alyssane Blackwood slander (sorry girl), somewhat mean!reader, this is an AU where Aegon's not a bad guy!!!! just a clown <3, mentions of an ill parent, Baela be hitting Aegon (he earned it!), Aemond is still missing an eye sorry to the Aemond girls

Word Count: 6.4k (period I stuck to keeping it short and sweet)

Modern!Cregan Stark x Fem!Reader

“He’s staring at you again” you scoffed, rolling your eyes, doing your best to focus on highlighting the passages about the few Westerosi Civil Wars that had happened centuries ago. It was already difficult enough to focus in the crowded library, midterms were killing everyone. 

It wasn’t a shock for the once quiet and almost empty library to be packed, especially with student athletes who were desperately catching up on their studies in attempts to pass all of their midterms, write endless essays, and practically beg their professors for extra credit via email. 

You should’ve been able to focus on the task at hand, studying with your best friends Baela and Rhaena for your upcoming history midterm, the exam itself would focus heavily on the several majors wars that shaped westerosi society as a whole, and would even include the transition from government leadership as a monarchy into a democracy. 

Hell you’d even have to describe what was once known as the ‘Iron Throne’ and its historical significance. Truthfully the large metal hunk of junk was now sitting in the King’s Landing Red Keep Memorial Museum.

Usually the library was the easiest place for the three of you to study, it wasn’t as loud as your fourth floor flat in one of the student apartment buildings off campus, it was usually pretty clean and well kept, plus every resource you could possibly need was somewhere within the large building. 

However today, your usually comfortable red leather-lined chair felt stiff and was making you hot, not to mention the lack of air flow and increased temperature due to the amount of body heat on each floor, then the lights were either too bright or too dim, and all you wanted to do was slam the books shut, grab your laptop and leave.

“Let him stare.” you muttered as you tried to keep your gaze on the text in front of you, however it was getting increasingly difficult as a very specific pair of eyes were practically burning a hole into your side. 

Gods, he was so obnoxious.

“I don’t think it’s healthy for you to hold onto the grudge against him, of course he totally earned it! I’m not downplaying your emotions but anytime he’s around you stiffen up like a virgin afraid of dick” your jaw dropped at Baela’s words, now staring at her, brows furrowed in shock.

“Baela! You can’t say things like that” Rhaena almost immediately swatted at her sister’s arm, shaking her head before tucking one of her loose locks behind her ear. “You really take after father sometimes.” 

Baela simply shrugged, glancing back at the two tables that were usually empty, now they were filled with six of the school’s hockey players, all spread apart with a plethora of books, laptops, pens, and notepads covering the tables. That’s also not counting all of their bags laying on the floor besides their chairs. 

“I get that you two broke up on not so good terms, but you should be showing him that you don’t care about him! Not that he makes you so angry you’re about to explode like a bomb in Mario Party”.

With that Baela turned her gaze back to her laptop, however at the sound of several texts chiming in at once to both Baela and Rhaena’s phones, you knew that their cousins had texted them once again. It made sense that they’d all shared a group chat, especially considering how close in age they were, and how large the Targaryen/Hightower/Velaryon family was. 

Of course the first time Baela had broken down their family tree you were incredibly confused. Her mother Laena Velaryon was married to Daemon Targaryen, who happened to be the uncle to her cousins Jace, Luke, and Joffrey’s mother Rhaenyra. 

Now, Rhaenyra was married to Dr. Strong (or just Harwin as he’d asked you to call him once at a family gathering you’d been invited to, to which you quickly declined as he was your Literature professor), but based on the Targaryen’s political status within Westeros, their sons took their mother’s last name, not their father. 

Then comes Aegon and Aemond, now truthfully you’d met Aegon your second week of classes a few years ago when he’d caught you off guard, asked for your number, then got mad when you’d ghosted him after finding out he had a girlfriend! (Shame on him, truly). But you actually ended up being pretty good friends with the goof. 

Anyways, Aegon and Aemond were the children of Rhaenyra’s best friend, and now sister-in-law Alicent Hightower who married Rhaenyra’s only brother Baelon Targaryen. 

It’s also important to remember that throughout this entire family tree, which was in fact drawn out on construction paper for you, Alicent and Baelon also had two other children, Daeron and Halaena, both of them attending Sunspear University together. Then of course Rhaenyra and Dr.Strong (Harwin), have two much smaller sons, Aegon and Viserys, which was even more confusing considering you’d already met an Aegon.

Rhaena and Baela shared a look, and it was a look that worried you, so of course instead of being rational and brushing it off, you clenched your jaw as you slowly turned around, making eye contact with none other than your ex-boyfriend who’d been leaning his head against his hand and staring at you with what could only be described as a mournful lovesick expression.

You rolled your eyes, quickly turning back around before anyone else would look at you and do something that would probably piss you off. 

It also didn’t help that the cousins texting Baela and Rhaena were also seated at the table with your ex boyfriend. 

“Jace said that Cregan wants to talk to you but you blocked him, I don’t think you want to know what Aegon said, but it involved an eggplant emoji and a bed” you rolled your eyes, letting out a deep sigh while sitting up straight and shaking your head.

“He’s apologized a million times and has yet to tell me why he decided to go out of his way to not only break things off with me and tell me he still loved me in the same damn sentence, then go out the same night and end up on Aegon-Aegon of all people’s instagram story sucking face with that Blackwood bitch while she was on his lap.” 

You let out a cynical laugh of sorts, rolling your eyes once again. 

“Tell Cregan Stark that I’d rather fuck Aegon after one of his alley-way vomit sprees than ever talk to him again” however, before you could focus back on your studies, an amused laugh came from behind you before the chair next to you was pulled out, only for you to meet the gaze of Aegon Targaryen himself, a lopsided smile on his face with his brows wiggling in a playful suggestive manner.

“Well if I knew the easiest way to get you into my bed was to go drinking until I’m sick then I would’ve invited you out sooner baby” with that he leaned closer while making kissing noises, only to be met with your hand shoving his face away.

“Aeg, for the last time, she doesn’t want you like that” he feigned hurt at Rhaena, sliding back into the chair with his hand over his heart. 

“You wound me dear cousin! You wound me!” then he sat up straight, now looking back at you “so I was sent over here as a trusted messenger. My boy back there, you know him quite well, if y’know what I mean-” he wiggled his eyebrows up and down again, then you shoved him “-anyways, Cregan has been like all sulky and heartbroken and he really misses you. And he doesn’t want anything to do with Alysanne! She came onto him!, so can you give him another shot?”

With that you simply shook your head, quickly packing your things up while scoffing. 

“Tell your “boy back there”-” you spoke with air quotations “-that if he really gave a fuck about me, he shouldn’t have dumped me after two years for no god damn reason, then fucked that Blackwood bitch-who by the way is a fucking whore!” 

Your outburst was met with the looks of many, Rhaena quickly clearing her throat watching as you packed your things away. “What she means to say is, she doesn’t want to talk to him. I think it’s too fresh still”

Aegon scoffed “it’s been four months people! Four months! The summer ended, it’s a new semester, I think she can talk to him now” he glanced around the table, eyes widening as he watched Baela grasp quite the hefty textbook while glaring at him.

“Baela don’t hit me! I’m just saying! Listen-” but before he could finish you’d already gotten up and mumbled that you’d see them at home while you walked away.

Aegon paused, watching as you walked away, blatantly checking you out for a few moments, then you’d disappeared. He then turned around and motioned for someone to come to the table, this is what led both Jace and Luke to walk across the room and now sit where you were sitting and in the last empty seat of the table.

“Listen, we’re all tired of being caught in the middle of this awkward divorce alright. So we came up with a plan!” Baela shook her head while Rhaena sighed slightly.

“No offense Aeg, but your plans are always horrible, need I remind you of Aemond’s missing eyeball?” Luke winced slightly, remembering the day he’d accidentally hit Aemond in the eye with a firewood poker when swinging it behind him.

Truthfully, Luke had no idea Aemond had entered the room when he and Aegon were ‘dueling’ one another, however he’d felt his poker hit something, and he heard Aemond’s loud scream of pain. 

They’d all been kids when that happened, and to make it worse it occurred on their grandfather’s birthday when everyone had traveled to King’s Landing for a large birthday dinner/family holiday.

“She’s got a point there Aegon, but-guys-we all came up with the idea together!” Luke placed his hands on the shoulder of his cousin and his brother, smiling widely while Baela and Rhaena both shook their heads in disappointment.

“Okay, you win, but if the idea is bad, Baela’s going to smack Aegon with that textbook, so pray it’s not bad” they all nodded, Aegon scooting back slightly.

“So y’know those sappy novels Hel’s always reading, anyways I asked her about them and she had one where the two main characters were like totally at ends with each other but their friends were like ‘nah they should be smashing’ so we think, based on our research and our scholarly source-Helaena, we should force them to be around each other until they finally talk it out! Or well, y’know-fuck it out”

He paused to take a quick breath “But we can’t let them in on the plan, otherwise Cregan’s gonna be all like ‘oh my god no she hates me, the love of my life hates me I can’t torture her, blah blah blah, I’m so nice and honorable, blah blah’ and she’s gonna be like ‘fuck that, I’ll kill him for fucking that Blackwood bitch and dumping me for no god damn reason’. Also I don’t think he ever fucked Alysanne-but I did-niether here nor there though!” 

Jace and Luke looked at Baela and Rhaena as if they were waiting to be yelled at by their mother, meanwhile Aegon smiled and nodded after his long winded explanation.

Rhaena spoke first “y’know honestly, your impression of her is pretty spot on.” Baela nodded her head in agreement before adding in “but if this doesn’t work, and she finds out, she’ll want to kill all of you and Cregan. I’m sure you all have realized being on her shit list isn’t exactly the best”

Jace nodded, glancing back at Cregan who was finally focusing on his statistics work with a stoic expression on his face. “Listen, if it doesn’t work and she kicks our asses that’s fine, but we at least have to try! I mean come on Rhae you told me that she cries over him still! And he’s no better. There might not be tears but he’s so long winded and mopey”

He then sighed, patting Luke on the back “I think this is our best shot. I mean c’mon they’re some of your guys' closest friends, and Winterfell over there’s my best friend that I’m not related to-oddly enough they’re pretty rare these days. They used to be so happy together! Now look at them both”

Baela sighed, nodding her head as she finally set the books in her hands down “she’s definitely not really herself anymore. Maybe if it doesn’t work, then at least they’ll both get closure from their relationship”.

Aegon smiled, nodding rapidly again “see! You guys get it!. Also don’t tell Aemond either, y’know he’s too ‘I’ve got a stick up my ass’ sometimes. We can call it operation-uh what’s the book trope that Helaena called it again-one second everyone!” he paused, grabbing his phone from his pocket before quickly calling his sister.

“Hey Hel, yeah yeah I’m good, what did you call that book again! The one where they were like forced to be around eachother then fuck it out and get married and shit?” 

Several hundred miles away, Helaena was grasping her nose bridge as she let out a deep sigh, her brother truly was a character.

“Oh-okay! Got it-thanks so much Hel, love you too! Give Daeron my love and remind him to wrap it up with those Dornish baddies!” with that he hung up the phone before meeting Baela’s disgusted glare.

“You’re so gross, Aeg. And stop saying the word baddies-you sound so cringey!” he simply shrugged at her.

“Anyways, now that we’re done being rude and judgemental to our baddie eldest cousin who’s super smart, funny, and beautiful, we’ll call it operation enemies to lovers!” 

Rhaena raised a brow “wouldn’t it actually be exes to lovers? Since they’re exes? I guess they might also be enemies based on the way she wants to wring his neck-and not how she used to-” with that her eyes widened as she slapped a hand over her mouth.

Jace sighed “don’t worry Rhae, we already know about the shit he let her do to him. Young love, what can I say” 

Aegon nodded his head, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively once again, then he slightly elbowed Luke, who met his gaze with a laugh before they both spoke in unison “kinky innit”.

“Anyways-are we doing this or not? I’ve got a history midterm to study for and you three are interrupting it, and it’s bad enough that Aegon already made the smartest person we know leave” It was clear that Baela was losing her patience.

“Oh come on Bales! Y’know if you’re still interested I can set you up with ol Benji over there, heard he’s a freak in the she-” there it was, the book smacking him in the face “-ow Baela! Jesus! You’re just like your dad! Mean and ever so beautiful to look at” he winked.

“Gross man, she’s our cousin!” he shrugged “didn’t stop our ancestors, okay fine-fine! I didn’t mean it okay! Shit. you all are so violent. The blood of the dragon I guess”.

-

Three days have passed and the TarVelTower group chat had been in constant communication about ‘operation exemies to lovers’ with the additional confused replies from those that were not present in the library that day.

They were planning a game night, it was something they’d all done in the past, inviting their other friends to come along as well for drinks and a night of utter tomfoolery. Baela and Rhaena had done everything but swear on the Old Gods themselves that Cregan wouldn’t be there, meanwhile Jace, Luke, and Aegon had to practically beg Cregan to come to Jace’s for the game night.

It was also a plus that most of them lived in the same building. Dragonstone University wasn’t that large, not compared to other schools such as Sunspear, Driftmark, or even Harrenhall-although it was rumored that Harrenhal U was in fact haunted, that’s probably what brought so many to the school in the first place.

Baela and Rhaena had to drag you out of your bed after your post-class nap and usher you into the shower, stating that you ‘stunk of outside’, which was rather rude considering your only classes today were virtual. 

They’d mentioned the game night several times, and each time you asked if Cregan would be there, they’d said no, which you found a bit odd considering Jace was literally his best friend and probably closest confidant. Maybe his father had come down from Winterfell again, but you were thankful that he wouldn’t be present to ruin your mood.

All you had to do was take the elevator up two floors, so all you did was shower and throw on a pair of sweats and one of Aegon’s many discarded team sweatshirts. It had his number on it and even after washing it what felt like a million times, it still smelled like his overly strong cologne that he claimed ‘the ladies love’.

He’d also told you that maybe you were an ogre for not loving it, which of course even further solidified your friendship with the moron (lovingly).

You took time to braid your hair, knowing that you’d probably wake up hungover without a want or a need to brush it, so this was just easier. Then you’d foregone makeup, knowing you truly didn’t care how people saw you, especially not your friends. 

Of course the one thing you’d always contemplated wearing sat on your desk, the thin gold chain adorned with a small charm in the shape of a howling wolf. It was as if it sat mocking you because almost everyday you’d stare at it while getting ready.

You’d worn it everyday for a year after Cregan gifted it to you. He randomly showed up at your door one day, slightly out of breath, a wide smile on his face with his disheveled hair pulled back. One hand rubbed against his short beard, while the other held a small black gift bag. He looked as if he’d run here, then was contemplating the decision to run in the first place.

Then he’d kissed you gently, a smile you rarely wore now, adorned your face then.

When you invited him in, he was quick to follow, shutting and locking your door behind him while you made your way to the small kitchen, grabbing him something to drink as he caught his breath.

Then as you spun around to hand him the drink, he held the bag out for you, practically forcing you to open it (it wasn’t forceful at all, rather when you declined opening it immediately, he didn’t hesitate to place the strings of the bag between his teeth before picking you up, then plopping you down onto the couch, soft giggles leaving your lips when he climbed right on top of you.).

You remembered him watching as you opened it, he held himself up overtop you, while you easily pulled the small jewelry box out of the packaging, then when you opened it he looked almost nervous, as if you wouldn’t like it.

But you’d kissed him, pulling him down into your lips, thanking him between rushed kisses. 

You shook your head, snapping yourself out of it before grasping the necklace and shoving it into one of your desk drawers. Out of sight, out of mind, you’d tell yourself-until you’d go looking for a pen and see it again.

Rhaena’s voice knocked you out of your thoughts completely, she stood in your doorframe, her posture a little too straight, which would’ve normally thrown you off, but you couldn’t focus on that, not when you were trying to shake off the feeling of heartbreak.

“You ready? I’ve got the snacks already packed to bring up, you’ve just got to grab our blankets. Baela’s already there helping set up. Aeg said he’d give her twenty bucks if she’d actually arrive earlier than him for once” you laughed at that, shaking your head slightly.

It was no secret that Aegon and Baela were incredibly competitive, and as cousins, they had what could only be described as a sibling rivalry, always trying to one up one another when they could, and making stupid bets over random things.

You actually liked that they were all so close, when you’d befriended Rhaena, you never thought that she and her sister would come with a large family that would welcome you in with open arms.

“Yeah, just, let me-um-get my shoes, yeah my shoes. Sorry” you were mumbling and stuttering as you walked to the shoe rack beside your door, slipping your feet into your fuzzy slippers before following Rhaena to the living room, grasping the small pile of throw blankets before the both of you left your apartment. She was quick to lock the door, then you both headed upstairs.

You were still technically early when you arrived, and as you entered the apartment Aegon was handing Baela a $20 bill, while she smirked. Luke was laying on one of the couches on his phone, Jace was putting drinks in the fridge with the help of Benji who honestly looked happy to be there. Meanwhile Aemond sat reading whatever random philosophical book he’d chosen for the week, and to your surprise, Helaena was pulling what smelled like cookies out of the oven.

“Hel! You’re here!” she smiled when she saw you, placing the tray down before meeting your embrace. “Yea, I actually was visiting my parents and Aegon picked me up earlier.” you smiled at that, you enjoyed her company, even if it was a rare occurrence. 

By the time everyone was settled in, around forty-five minutes had passed, and everything was nice. For the first time in a while you weren’t on edge, which was definitely noticeable, and you’d actually managed to relax into the large bean bag below you. Even if it did remind you of a certain someone.

Then, it was as if you’d summoned the asshole himself.

Jace was quick to shoot up and walk to the door, glancing at his phone nervously. Then he opened the door, nervously laughing for a few moments.

Then you spotted him. Not before Aegon, who was already tipsy, had managed to shoot up from his spot on the ground “Cregan! Glad you could make it man!”.

Baela and Rhaena watched as you let out a deep sigh, it was clear you didn’t want to ruin the night, so you simply turned to face away from the door, burying yourself further into the bean bag, covering yourself in the throw blanket as much as you could.

It’s important to mention that the bean bag happened to be big enough for two people, and for a long time, it’s where you would sit with Cregan, well technically, given his size, you’d be cuddled up together, and now, as his gaze found you ignoring him on that bean bag, the gloomy cloud that followed him around had resurfaced.’

After a few tense moments of silence, everyone commenced what they were doing.

Aegon, still standing, held up a deck of cards.

“For today’s game night we’re gonna need to partner up! Rhaena, you’re with me tonight! I need your smarticle particles!” you blinked slowly, Rhaena was usually your partner. Then you sat in silence as you watched everyone partner up.

Baela was shoved into Benji-literally shoved by Aegon. 

Aemond chose Luke as he stated their team needed “balance”, which actually made a lot of sense considering Aemond was always somewhat brooding, and Luke was a ray of sunshine.

Jace glanced between Helaena and Cregan, but when Baela shot him a pointed look-missed completely by you-he chose Helaena.

Which of course left you with the one person you wanted nothing to do with.

Rhaena tried breaking the ice, watching as Cregan awkwardly sat in the armchair beside the beanbag. “It looks like our old winning team is back together!” you were the first to scoff.

“Hey! They used to cheat!” you couldn’t stop yourself from responding to Aegon “actually he waited until we broke up for that”. As you spoke, everyone’s eyes widened, meanwhile you remained in your spot, staring at your phone, mindlessly scrolling through instagram.

However, as good of a guy that Cregan Stark is, you were the only person that was ever able to bring a different side out of him. You two rarely fought, but when you did, it was almost catastrophic and usually ended in very rough sex, or a heartwarming apology after ignoring one another for a few days. 

But you’d never broken up, you both took time to cool off in whatever way you needed.

Things are different now.

“For the last time, she came onto me! I’ve told you this thousands of times!” As he raised his voice, the frustration in his tone was evident, and his accent sounded thicker than usual-a key indicator that he was upset. So instead of backing down, you scoffed, now looking at him, fury evident on your features. 

“Yeah because a man your fucking size was so easily overpowered by her right! She just waltzed right up to you and beat you into submission or something?! Oh fuck you Cregan!” 

The two of you held eye contact, anger and frustration evident.

Aegon slowly sat down, leaning towards Jace and whispering “I think it’s working”, meanwhile Jace shook his head, having been witness to the few fights that you’d actually had with Cregan in the past.

“What would you have wanted me to do, I was shitfaced! Was I supposed to shove her to the ground and tell her to go fuck herself?!” you nodded your head at that, now sitting up, even closer to him than before. He stared down at you as you stared up at him.

“Yeah actually, that’s the best fucking idea I’d say you’ve ever had!” he scoffed.

“We weren’t even together and you hold that against me! Still!” That's what sent you over the edge.

“You fucking dumped me for no god damn reason, told me you loved me, and then went and fucked that Blackwood Bitch! The same fucking day! As if I meant nothing to you, we were together for two years Cregan! Two fucking years!” 

He heard the crack in your voice, everyone did. As you stared at him, he could see the way your eyes glossed over, he knew you too well. He knew the tears were coming.

“I tried to talk to you-you didn’t wanna hear anything!” you shrugged, gathering your things as fast as you possibly could, now looking anywhere but him.

“You don’t fucking deserve to talk to me you asshole”. Then you stood up and did what you always do in these situations, you ran away and left.

He was left there in shock, staring at the door, jaw clenched while he watched you leave. 

“Well that’s one way to start a game night” 

“Aegon shut up!” cue the smack “Ow! Baela! Stop hitting me! Go hit Benji, he likes that shit!-ow! Seriously?! Jace and Luke, get your cousin!”

Then in unison “she’s your cousin too!”

And finally, Benji piped up “is she talking about my cousin?” 

Instead of watching you waltz away, Cregan stood up, grabbing his things and mumbling his own apologies. Then he left, he knew exactly where you lived, so instead of taking the elevator, he rushed down the stairs, trying to cool off. 

When he stood in front of your door, it felt like a routine, something his body was so used to. As if this was muscle memory for him.

Then he knocked, once. No response. 

Twice. Nothing. 

Three times-maybe third times a charm. Nothing.

He stood there, his forehead leaned against the door. Cregan Stark was not a man of regrets, hell he prided himself on actually being a good guy, he was raised to be respectful, to be kind, to be strong, Stark men were not assholes. They weren’t childish, they weren��t selfish, they were supposed to be honorable in every way.

But here he is, leaning against his ex-girlfriend’s door, still in love with her, full of regret for ever breaking things off. He hadn’t even explained himself. He wanted to-he’d tried that day, but you stormed out, tears that he’d caused flowing down your cheeks. 

Then he felt the door shift, and you stood there, wrapped in the same blanket, eyes red as you stared up at him.

Gods, all he wanted to do was tell you he loved you, that he needed you, that you made him feel whole.

“I don’t have any fight left in me Cregan. It’s been months, why can’t you just leave me alone.” 

“Because I love you.” you sighed, shaking your head “no you don’t. If you loved me you wouldn’t have left me.” 

Sure you might’ve been being dramatic, but truthfully, you’d been heartbroken for months, following your breakup you’d lost ten pounds in two weeks. You’d never felt worse, and now, you were starting to feel alright, but it was no secret that there had been many nights full of tears, hugging a sweatshirt that you’d never washed, hoping to preserve the smell of his cologne.

“Can you just fucking listen to me for five minutes, please, I’ve been trying to talk to you for so long, just please-let me talk to you” you shrugged.

“Why?” he blinked a few times, taking a deep breath, running a hand through his hair-hair that you used to always touch, forcing him to sit between your thighs while you braid his hair, laughing when he’d complain, or when he’d do poses for you after you’d finished.

“I love you, I’ve never stopped loving you, I go to sleep at night and my dreams are filled with you, your smile, your laugh, even your fucking frowns. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone or anything. My heart fucking yearns for you. I can still feel the way you used to hold me, the way your breath felt against my neck, Gods, I think about you 24/7! I think about everything that I did, the way that I screwed up-I screwed us up. I love you! I’ll scream it from the fucking rooftops if that’s what you want!” 

You didn’t bother wiping away your tears, instead you stepped aside, leaving room for him to come in.

“You want to talk then talk.”

Then he walked inside, and shut the door the same way he used to. 

It truly was muscle memory, the way he walked to the couch and sat down in the same spot he was always in, then he waited for you.

He watched as you slowly sat next to him, still wrapped in a blanket like a sad burrito-Gods he spent too much time around Aegon. He didn’t hesitate to wipe the tears from under one of your eyes with his thumb, repeating the action on the other cheek.

“I didn’t want to break up with you. I never wanted to break up with you. My father’s-well he’s sick at home, I was going to leave, go back to Winterfell to take care of him, to take care of everyone. I just-I didn’t want you to be alone here, and I didn’t want to be your long distance boyfriend that you only ever see on fucking facetime. I just-I couldn’t do it.” 

You were silent, watching as he broke slightly, his voice cracking at the mention of his father, then at the mention of you being alone. 

It was no secret that Cregan and his father were close, you’d met Rickon Stark twice, and each time he’d embraced you with open arms and a warm heart. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he shrugged.

“Because, I’m supposed to be strong, I’m supposed to know my duty to my family, I’m supposed to be there for them, and it was hard-hard to say that I had to leave you for an unknown amount of time. I didn’t want to, I didn’t want to go a day without seeing you, you make me crazy in the best way, even now, whenever I see you on campus my heart practically flies out of my chest. Seeing you at my games, you’re like a ghost haunting me.” 

You slowly nodded, listening to him, watching the way he’d blink away his tears, the way his brows would furrow and jaw would clench slightly. 

“My dad’s the one who told me to stay. Told me not to throw my future away, that he’d be alright, y’know he’s a fighter-always has been. Told me to get my girl back-” he let out a small chuckle, the laugh laced in sadness “-but I think she doesn’t want me back. I went back up after we split up, just for a week, and he told me I was an idiot to leave it all behind. A full ride to Uni if I kept playing hockey? The girl of my dreams? Called me a bloke before he told me that he’s okay, he’s not letting go anytime soon” 

Cregan hadn’t been looking at you, he was focused on his hands, fists clenching slightly as he tried to swallow his own emotions. He hadn’t noticed the way that you’d been inching closer, not until your arms were wrapped around him, head leaning against his shoulder.

“You could’ve just told me from the beginning. I would’ve been your facetime girlfriend y’know? Would’ve figured out a way up there”

The familiarity of it all was what made him break, a small sob leaving his lips while you held him. It didn’t take long for you to shove him further into the couch and climb into his lap, the same way you used to when all you wanted to do was be as close to him as possible.

You held him, sat atop one of his thighs, arms wrapped around his shoulders while he cried into your shoulder. His arms gripping your waist, holding you against him. 

This is what should’ve happened all those months ago.

“I’m sorry for being a bitch” he laughed at that, and you felt his small smile. Meanwhile you ran a hand through his hair, fingers dancing through the dark locks before slowly running against his scalp. Your other hand traced small circles against his shoulder blade, you missed this.

You missed him.

“You weren’t a bitch-I probably deserved that.” you scoffed, moving back slightly, now holding eye contact with him as you brushed his tears away. “I was a bitch, I was the biggest bitch ever.”

He smiled, shaking his head “She really did come onto me. I did push her off-” you shushed him “I know. I believe you, I just-I dunno. I was hurt, then I saw that and it just stayed with me. I figured you dumped me for someone else, someone better-” he cut you off with a kiss.

It was so gentle, so soft, so sweet. Then he pulled away “there’s no one better than you for me. I’m sorry I wasn’t honest. I just-I didn’t want to look weak and I didn’t want to leave you and-” you shushed him again, this time holding a hand against his mouth.

“Shut the fuck up Cregan Stark.” Your tone was light hearted as you shook your head “You’re not weak for having emotions, and you aren’t weak for wanting to care for those that you love. Don’t be stupid, we’ve both been stupid enough.” he nodded his head, then you slid her hand down, now caressing his face, your thumb lightly pulling on his bottom lip.

“I missed you” you smiled, a small giggle leaving your lips.

“Based on the way you stare, I could tell” he rolled his eyes “gotta commit your beauty to memory somehow” you slightly shoved his shoulder “you cornball!” 

“I missed you too loverboy”

Then you kissed him again, a slow, passionate kiss full of emotions, smiles, and even a few giggles. He then slid his hands under your sweatshirt, and you quickly pulled apart, letting him take it off, leaving you in just your bralette, then his lips were on yours again.

Before anything else could happen the front door swung open, startling you both, leading to Cregan’s grip against you tightening, meanwhile Aegon and Jace both hit the floor, while Luke stood there awkwardly, Rhaena shook her head, and Baela looked as if she was being held back by Benji. Meanwhile Helaena and Aemond were nowhere to be seen.

At least until they moved closer to the doorway, both of them shaking their heads and muttering “fucking Aegon” in unison.

“I told you guys it would work! Look at them! Kissing and close!” Aegon still spoke, even from the floor while Jace was on top of him. Then Jace slowly rolled off, letting out an ‘oof’. 

“Were you all eavesdropping?” Aegon blinked a few times at your question, glancing back at everyone else. Then you noticed the flush on Luke’s face and Rhaena’s awkward expression. Plus Jace was nodding his head. 

“Why did the Gods make him our brother?” Aemond shook his head “I truly do not know.” 

“So are you two back together now?” 

You sighed, standing up and grasping Cregan’s hand, pulling him towards your bedroom.

Cregan glanced back, still laughing at the scene “yes. Now please, fuck off mate”

With that you pulled him into your room and locked the door.

“They’re all the worst” he nodded his head at you, he’d expected you to pull him into your bed, however you walked towards your desk, rummaging through the different drawers until you found something. 

You glanced at him “can you help me with this”, while holding up the necklace.

“I’d be honored” you rolled your eyes, a bright smile on your face while he walked over, taking the necklace then as gently as possible, clasping it around your neck. Then he left a line of open mouthed kisses from below your right ear, to the edge of your shoulder. 

“I love you” his voice was soft, a whisper, almost as if it was a secret shared between the both of you.

You smiled, spinning around, one hand now on his face, the other on the back of his neck, fingers tracing circles through his hair. “I love you too”

-

Taglist:

Girl it dont exist LMAO

[shotmrmiller]

Mistress.

Pairings: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x AFAB!Reader

TW: femdom! reader, slight degradation?, complete and utter submission, masturbation

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Lieutenant Simon 'Ghost' Riley, a hulking giant of a man, a solid figure of authority on base and the reaper itself on the field, passing through the enemy like smoke, taking their lives with him— had a big secret. To find out, even by chance, is a death sentence.

Simon on leave always went home to an empty flat. He just doesn't have the time to meet anyone, and he figures no one would want to have a relationship with someone who leaves for months on end and with little to no communication. But that didn't mean he did not want someone to spoil. Shower them with gifts and the money he accumulated over years of serving because he never had any time to spend it on anything other than basic necessities.

So once he was home, he indulged in his secret. His Mistress. You.

Sending £800 to your bank account, he sent a text.

'I'm home, Mistress.'

A reply, minutes later.

'You paid your tribute. I'll indulge you just this once, but you ought to remember we work on my schedule, not yours.'

'Of course, my Mistress. I humbly apologize.'

'I will be there in 30. You will not make me wait at the door.'

'Yes, Mistress.'

The Lieutenant was always overlooking something or someone on base, so you were perfect for him. You demanded complete control, and if not given, you took it regardless— and nothing was sweeter than having such a large man submit to you and only you.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

You arrived outside his door, and without knocking just said, 'Simon.'

The front door was opened almost immediately, and you were greeted with Simon on his knees — you'll never get over how delicious he looks submitting to you even though he's so tall his head reaches your hipbones and you're in heels — with a collar already on his neck and the leash's handle on his raised palm. You step inside and watch him close the door.

'Good boy,' you murmur as you take the handle, 'Look at me.'

He lifts his head as you look down at him and you see his blue eyes soften at your outfit— which you'll never admit you purposefully put on, knowing it's his favorite based on past meetings.

You're wearing a pink latex corset dress with the laces tied tight on the entire back of the dress and the length of the dress reaches your upper thigh. For stockings, you have petal pink, sheer stay-ups, and your shoes are 'So Kate' 120mm in the same rosy color— and to finish the look, you've got on a long, black a-line wool coat that you're currently taking off and putting on the coat hanger by the front door.

Leash in hand, you walk towards the leather couch, hearing Simon's jeans dragging on his carpet as he crawls behind you before you turn and sit, crossing your legs.

"Permission to take your heels off, Goddess."

"Permission granted. You know what to do."

He takes your dainty foot in both his hands and presses his lips on your ankle, before moving on to the bridge of your foot. Squeezing the counter of your heel, he pulls it, and your toes slip from the shoebox— he gives a pathetic moan at the sight of your stocking-covered, white nail-polished toes.

Removing your other heel, he grabs both of your feet and places them flat on the floor before, still kneeling, he lowers his head to worship you, peppering kisses anywhere he can put his lips on.

You extend your toes and press them to his forehead, pushing him back up and away from you.

"That's enough."

He immediately kneels back on his haunches, and you look at his face to take in his body language. Pupils so large his iris is a thin blue ring, cheeks red and blotchy, mouth slightly agape as he let out shuddering wispy breaths.

Yanking on his collar, you open your legs and pull him to slot in between them. How his torso blankets your entire body makes your toes curl— and that he's still in a submissive pose and still massive makes your walls clench.

Simon, biting his lower lip, lets out a loud groan— gripping the side of the sofa cushions by your knees as his eyes gaze directly to the apex of your thighs. Right to your unclothed quim. Simon is the only sub that's ever seen you in any state of undress. He's the only one you'd fuck straight into his mattress if he begged, and he never looked so good than when he's begging you for attention.

You entangle your fingers into his ash-brown hair and pull, hard, to make eye contact and say, 'The next time you stare at anything other than my eyes without my explicit permission and I walk. I'll drain your bank account of every single pound and you'll thank me for it before I cut off all contact. This is your first and last warning."

Simon whimpers a pitiful little noise before jerking his head in an aggressive nod.

"Yes, my mistress."

You yank on his hair hard enough to wiggle his head a little and loudly say,

"Yes, my mistress what???"

He swallows hard, adam's apple bobbing, and proclaims, " Yes, my mistress. I am wholly unworthy of your beautiful gift. I deserve absolutely nothing from you."

Biting your lip, you let go of his hair and drag it down towards his jaw to softly cup his cheek.

In a faint, caressing voice you say, "Good boy. Staying in your place is easy once you're reminded of it."

You recline back, shift your eyes down to the monstrous bulge in Simon's pants before pressing your whole foot against his erection— noticing how there's still about 3 inches that your foot doesn't cover, jesus christ—

"What's this, then?", and you push your foot harder into him, and Simon gives a low moan, from deep in his chest— and he lowers his head, eyes screwed shut and mouth hanging open.

"Well? I asked a question and I did say it in english."

Simon raises his head and his eyes are glossy, scar across the corner of his upper lip whitening with how he thins them before answering.

"Oh, my Mistress, my Queen. I'm just so happy you're here, giving me your complete attention," and in a quieter, vulnerable tone says, "I missed this. Missed you."

That has your heart pounding against your rib cage. You clench your jaw— you cannot show Simon how exhilarated those words make you. You've been harboring the tiniest crush on Simon, and how could you not? Look at him. 6 foot 4, 320 pounds and he submits so beautifully. You'd ruin him. And with the small feel you've gotten from his cock, he'd definitely ruin you. But not now. Simon deserves a reward for being so good and obedient.

"Go on, pet. Show me how much you've really missed me. For you, I'll permit your release." Only for you.

Hands flying to his zipper, he takes his thick, long length out— what a fucking cock it was too, you can't wait to get your hands on it— he starts stroking it, skin bunching up at the flared head on the upstroke and Simon presses his thumb down on his slit. He lets out a hiss as he starts smearing the pre-come around the head and then smooths out the skin on the way down.

Your arm is stretched out holding your weight as you lean to the side, head tilted and you flick your eyes to Simon's face and you startle— Simon's holding direct eye contact, tongue wetting his bottom lip and you can feel heat radiating from your cheeks at the intensity of his stare.

You don't look away though. You stare right into his eyes as the room starts to fill with faster paced, wet, skin slapping noises— and Simon's eyes roll to the back of his head as his eyes close and you look back down to his cock, so hard, swollen red and slippery with his pre-come.

You can hear his teeth grinding together, shoulders stiffening and tattooed forearm vascular with how tight he's squeezing his cock and he chokes out, "Please, Mistress. Let me come, let me come, I'm so close—god"

" Come for your Mistress, Simon. Be a good boy and come for me."

Simon moans loud as his back bows forward and he encircles your ankle with his hand to stabilize himself as his length spurts rope after rope of thick cum inches from your toes— continuously stroking himself through the aftershocks and into oversensitivity.

He puts both palms flat on the floor as he gulps in big shaky breaths, arms trembling slightly. You stand up, carefully stepping around his come, and slip into your heels. Simon raises his head to look at you and— look at that simple, empty expression. You want to sit on that face 'til he repeatedly taps your thick thigh, begging for air— and tell him to clean up his mess. You put on your jacket, close it with the belt and leave.

Your pocket vibrates with a text, and tap the screen to read the text.

Simon: I beg you, my Angel. Let me look at your beautiful pussy as I come, next time.

You: You know what to do.

And then a notification from your bank.

Simon Riley has deposited £4000.

Pressing your phone screen to your chin as hold in a squeal, you cannot wait to get your hands on him.

'Only ever for you.'

A/N: i'd give all the cod boys the gawk gawk without question. at the same time. and valeria can sit on my face til i stop breathing.

[shegatsby]

Love Thy Enemy

Summary; Y/N Atreides had always been a stranger to the entire galaxy, her bed wasn’t her bed, her home wasn’t her home due to the fact that she was sent to accompany and be sisters with Irulan. She had limited access to her actual family and over the years they grew distant. She thought she would be like Reverend Mother, alone, yet powerful, and soon she would realize that there was no need of being alone when a wild creature had his eyes on her for a long time.

A/N; HI!!! Its been a long time since I wrote a series but i cannot resist Feyd. English isn''t my first language so go easy on me. There will be smut in the future chapters. TAG LIST IS OPEN!!!!!! (Reader has a lover and Feyd's going to find out lol 😉😉😉)

Warnings; None. Female Bene Gesserit Reader x Feyd-Rautha, enemies to lovers! reader is reffered to as she/her.

Words; 1.520K

Chapter 2

Chapter One – ‘’Meeting in flesh and blood’’

‘’Right behind you!’’ Irulan screamed as she was riding her horse to match Y/N’s. Y/N was a skilled rider, the wind in her long hair, she laughed at Irulan’s attempt of winning the race and focused on the finish line. Planet Kaitian which was the second Capital of the Corrino Empire had so many opportunities for Padishah Emperor Shaddam’s daughter Irulan and his beloved Y/N. The planet had forests, lakes and rivers so Y/N didn’t miss much of her home planet Caladan, she sometimes tossed and turned in her bed thinking of her family members but she was taken to Kaitain years ago. Irulan and Y/N were the same age and when Shaddam couldn’t have more children he asked Duke Leto Atreides to bring his first born daughter to be sisters with Irulan. Leto tried to find so many ways to refuse Padishah Emperor yet he was the ultimate power in the entire galaxy and Leto had no choice but to give his daughter Y/N. She was one years old when the arrangements were made. She could see her family at political events or celebrations, she had been in Caladan few times yet she felt stranger to the planet and she felt stranger to Kaitain as well. She has always wondered if, by any chance one day she would feel the sensation of ‘’being at home’’ nowhere and no one was her home. Maybe this was her fate.

When she finished the race her horse calmed down, Irulan followed behind. ‘’I swear you’re cheating and I am going to find out.’’ She was joking of course, Irulan and Y/N had a close relationship yet Y/N never forgot that she was a princess and there for needed to be treated more cautiously than the other lords and ladies of the galaxy. Together they hopped off of their horses, ‘’Walk with me.’’ Irulan’s  voice was soft yet direct. Her short blonde hair got messy, hem of her white long dress covered in mud, she was carefree when she was with Y/N.

Y/N had the color of her house Atreides. Green. Her green dress felt so light, they were walking on the grass for few minutes in silence., Y/N knew that Irulan wanted to say something.

Palace’s gardens were evergreen, gardeners achieved perfection. Gardens smelled of flowers at any time of the year. Irulan stopped in her tracks, they turned to soak in the scenery before their eyes, the entire planet was under their feet. Servants’ chatters could be heard, no matter what they were never alone. ‘’Soon my father will throw a ball for me.’’ She looked distant, Padishah Emperor Shaddam never had parties without a solid reason, it must be political. Before Y/N could ask Irulan explained simply, ‘’I will meet the man I have to marry.’’ Y/N knew one day that she had to marry someone in order to protect the power they had over the galaxy but she never thought the date would come this quick. Y/N had already a lover, only Irulan knew because he was from a lower house. She had a childish hope that one day she would marry him.

Irulan laughed in sarcasm, ‘’How I wish to be you, sister!’’ it was obvious that Irulan dreaded the situation.

There were no arrangements for Y/N and she was free for a long time or so she thought.

‘’I trust in Emperor’s decision. He won’t wed you to someone unworthy.’’ She tried to encourage her dear friend but Irulan stood there like a stone. ‘’Let’s head back.’’ Y/N said. A hollow silence followed them to the dining hall. Emperor couldn’t attend because he was dealing with preparations of the ball. The white marble fire place was lit and orange colors danced in the room, the dining hall was adorned with lavish furniture and a long wooden table. The wood came from Giedi Prime, it was called Pilingitam.

 Irulan seemed troubled, ‘’What’s on your mind sister?’’ Y/N asked. She was concerned for her, if she knew that she had to be concerned for herself…

She watched Irulan’s palm slithering on the Pilingitam table,’’ Majority of the houses will be at the ball,’’ she looked up to meet Y/N’s curious eyes, ‘’The Harkonnens will be too.’’ Y/N’s blood ran cold, she remembered the times where Emperor used to take them to Giedi Prime for political reasons. They had to sit and watch the games in the black and white arena. Gladiators killing each other…

She remembered a boy with pure blue eyes and full lips, ‘’I will fight there too when I’m old enogh.’’ He was sitting next to Y/N in his black outfit. He closed the tiny gap between him and Y/N, and he spoke quietly, ‘’Will you come and watch me?’’ he was speaking as if killing was a normal act. His knee touching Y/N’s, she remembered distinctly that the boy interlaced his little finger with hers. They were ten and yet Y/N could see Baron Vladimir’s influence on his poor nephew.

Y/N didn’t need to go back in her memories to detest the Harkonnens. Their families were in and out of war for centuries. Thankfully for a long time peace was kept. ‘’I will manage.’’ She insured Irulan with a genuine smile yet it wasn’t enough. Y/N brushed it off, after dinner she had mental training anyways.

Until the day of the ball she corresponded with her lover, Pyramus

He was a tall man with dark curls and jet black eyes. His beard always tickled her face.

She spent her days training and accompanying Irulan. Irulan grew restless as the they approached.

One by one the ships started to arrive, one could look up to the busy blue sky and see. Y/N’s family arrived early to see her and spend time with her. Lady Jessica, her mother, immediately questioned her about Y/N’s Bene Gesserit training, Duke Leto was happy to see her daughter once again. Paul, her one year younger brother gave her a tight hug.

They were united once more, she escorted them to their quarters in the palace and retrieved to get ready for the event. She wore a green dress with emeralds on her chest and waist, her maid braided her hair in Atreides style. She also wore an emerald tiara. Paul Atreides knocked on her door to escort her to the ball room, he looked sharp in his dark green suit. ‘’You seem nervous.’’ He questioned, -Y/N knew that her mother was teaching Bene Gesserit ways to her brother,- yes she was nervous because she was going to be reunited with her lover. ‘’Too many people.’’ She responded. Servants were running with food and wine on the corridors, music could be heard from a distance. Members of houses were having conversations about spice, politics, etc.

The doors of the room were open, inside was lit by the yellow warm lights coming from glowglobes, guests laughing and drinking. Tallest member was Baron Vladimir due to hanging in the air, eating like a mad man but she ignored him.

Her eyes searching for her lover, so blind to an outsider who got her under his radar.

Paul and Y/N walked to the table of their house, ‘’You look lovely my girl.’’ Duke Leto kissed her daughter’s forehead, it didn’t go unnoticed by a certain someone. He was a snake, silently slithering close to his prey.

Padishah Emperor Shaddam and his daughter Princess Irulan were announced and slowly entered the room, everyone bowed. They took their seats and Emperor greeted everyone, thanked them for coming to his feast and he also announced that he would choose the life partner of his daughter among his unmarried male guests. Duke Leto found himself watching his daughter with sad eyes, he wondered if he could see her wedding one day. Would she be happy and fortunate like him? Only time would tell but he prayed quietly.

It was time to dance, couples held each others’ hands and marched to the dance floor, Paul excused himself and went to ask the princess to dance with him. Leto happily asked Jessica to dance with him, Y/N wished that they were officially married but to keep his position as a powerful bachelor, other houses worked for him hoping that one day Duke Leto would marry one of their daughters. It was a well played game of chess on Atreides’s part. Y/N watched Irulan and Paul talking silently and dancing.

Soon Pyramus came with a huge smile. He kissed her hand and winked at her, ‘’My beautiful lady, would you be so kind and accompany me on the dance floor?’’ she tried so hard not to grin, ‘’Of course my lord.’’ He was in his house’s color, yellow. Hand in hand they mingled among the other couples, ‘’I’ve missed you.’’ He whispered. ‘’Not here.’’ She used the voice on him and his mouth closed in a second. Only their eyes talked.

They heard a rough cough and turned to face the intruder, Y/N had no idea that she would meet him in flesh and blood, ‘’Feyd…’’

[zhaobear]

28 (teaser)

It takes you 28 weeks to leave Kim Gyuvin, but only 28 days to run right back.

PAIRING : kim gyuvin x fem reader

GENRES : fluff, crack, eventual angst, with a happy ending, enemies to lovers au, strangers to lovers au, rich girl au, bakery au, falling in love in france!!

WORD COUNT : 1209 (teaser), estimated to be 20k

SUMMARY : when you pack your bags and move to france on a whim, you don’t expect just how many challenges you’ll meet — whether it’s your difficulty in adjusting to the new country, the harsh truths of the fashion industry, or most infuriatingly, pastry chef kim gyuvin, whose immense talent doesn’t stop you from deeming him the bane of your existence. despite yourself, his shop soon becomes more of a home than you’d like to admit, as gyuvin’s delicious creations and honest words slowly worm their way into your heart and show you that affection is more than just a monetary transaction.

WARNINGS : profanity, might be suggestive, red hair gyuvin x blue hair mc, mc wants to go to fashion school and gyuvin owns a pâtisserie (both are 20), mc is a bad bitch but sometimes superficial/spoiled but!! has char development, gyuvin shows love by being a little shit, i apologize for the banner graphic design is not my passion

AUTHOR'S NOTE : happy gyuvin day!! i wanted to finish this whole fic for his bday but i'm not quite there yet so take this teaser <3 if anyone wants to be tagged for this lmk and i'll start a taglist! i'm super excited to finish this fic even though gyuvin already got rid of his red hair......i will pretend it's still there

"NOT TO BE RUDE OR ANYTHING, BUT COULD YOU MOVE THE CRYING SOMEWHERE ELSE? YOU'RE AFFECTING BUSINESS." 

Your mouth falls open. Out of all of the words you expected to hear from the employee with the red hair, these weren't at all what you imagined.

The sheer nerve of a stranger — you can’t help but fume. Your status has led you to experience all sorts of men,  most commonly the kind that fall to your feet at first sight, begging you for a mere minute of your time. You’ve unfortunately experienced their rotten sides too, particularly the petty insults and misogyny that come with your industry. You’ve also experienced the raging anger when they realize you take too much pride in yourself to become their dolls. 

But to be insulted so brazenly on the first meeting, given your name, your reputation — men do not dare. 

“Well, excuse me for choosing your store to have a mental breakdown under. I couldn’t exactly—”

“Excused.”

“What?” You seethe, your face growing hotter by the second. 

“You’re excused,” the boy repeats simply, before turning back to the door. “If you want to sit inside, you’re welcome. Please just don’t cry outside of my shop,” he calls over his shoulder. 

The door closes behind him before you can even say anything back. You’re frozen in place, shocked by the pure shamelessness of the boy. Surely no manager would let their employee act this way? You’ve never been much of a Karen, but you’re tempted to find out. 

Finally, you look inside the store, peering through the glass door. Despite yourself, you’re pleasantly surprised upon the realization that you’ve stopped under a pâtisserie. Although none of the French bakeries have made any lasting impact on you, the decent crowd inside the shop has to amount to something. 

A variety of pastries are neatly lined on the glass shelves, clearly crafted with great care and intricacy. Almost all of them are unfamiliar, but your mouth waters anyway. You didn’t even know it was possible to crave something you’ve never had. 

You observe a flash of red hair saunter behind a door at the back, and all your cravings disappear. That bitch. You’d rather die than sit inside the shop and let him win, but you cajole yourself with the thought of making a complaint as soon as you find the right person. 

You push the door open, greeted by the bell that chimes overhead. 

Warmth. 

That’s your first impression of the store, and it’s not just the significant temperature difference. Something about the aura of the shop itself, the quiet but contented chatter of customers and the soft music spilling through the overhead speakers — you hate to admit it but it gives you a sense of comfort you were missing in the past three days. 

You shake your head. Pull yourself together. 

You storm past the line of customers, immediately met with their indignant shouts and protests, and stop in front of the young boy manning the register. His eyes widen, flitting back and forth between you and the customer he was helping. 

“Miss, I—I’m sorry but you can’t just cut in line like that…” he trails off nervously. His expression makes you think of a nervous rabbit, cornered by prey twice his size with nowhere to go. Twitchy nose and all. It’s kind of cute, and a part of you feels bad. You know he didn’t do anything wrong, but maybe the intimidation will get him to help you faster. 

“I need to speak to your manager.”

The boy balks, clearly unsure how to respond. He covers his confusion with a small smile. 

“I’m sure whatever it is, I can assist you. Can I ask what the problem is?”

“Look, I appreciate you trying to help, but the best thing you can do for me is just get me the manager,” you huff. “Please,” you tack on awkwardly, feeling worse at the small flash of hurt in his eyes. The boy nods and leaves, disappearing behind the door at the back of the store. 

You tap your foot impatiently, ignoring the string of curses the customers in line direct at you. Already irritated with the amount of time they’re taking, you consider leaving, about to turn around until the door finally swings open. 

However, you’re not prepared for the man who emerges from the back. You gape at the sight of the red-haired boy, who raises an eyebrow at the sight of you, giving you an infuriating once-over. 

“Is something the matter?” He asks coolly, like he didn’t insult you mere minutes ago. Like you’re just a regular disruption and not — not you. The heir to one of the most widespread fashion companies in the world. The girl with everything. 

“I asked for the manager,” you hiss. But the boy’s face only brightens at the word, a casual grin spreading across his face. 

“Looks like you’ve found who you’re looking for,” he replies, raising his hands. “Manager by day, chef by night. What can I do for you?” 

Your hand clenches into a fist against your will, the need to punch the cheeky smirk off his face overpowering you. You hold yourself back, instead matching his attitude with a sickly sweet smile of your own. 

“I thought most managers were aware of basic customer service. But I suppose I expected too much from a hole-in-the-wall place like this,” you simper, watching his face turn the same shade as his hair.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” the man splutters. “I—I have five star reviews on Google!”

You try not to snicker at how quickly you’ve caught him off guard, schooling your expression into something that you hope is cool and unconcerned. “Well then, I’m sure Google would love to hear my thoughts instead. No use being here if I can just put a few dents in those five stars, right?” You shrug noncommittally and turn around. 

“Hold on,” the boy says, a hint of desperation in his voice. You face him, trying to smother the smug smile threatening to overtake your features. “Would a free pastry help?”

“Hm,” you feign contemplation. “I don’t know. None of the pastries in Paris have been particularly outstanding to me yet.” 

“Oh, I’m sure that won’t be a problem here,” he answers, smiling. The smile looks genuine enough, but you notice it doesn’t reach his eyes. His gaze is stuck on you — calculating, wary, like he’s still trying to make sense of you. “Yujin-ah!” He calls out without taking his eyes off you. The boy from earlier emerges behind him, refusing to look at you.

“Yeah?” He glances at the redhead with a lingering hint of that bunny-like anxiousness. 

“Get her a kouign amann on the house for me, please.” He finally breaks eye contact with you to look at the smaller boy with a gentle smile that you can tell is reserved for him. Yujin nods, hurrying to grab the pastry. 

“If it’s not to your liking, you can mention me personally in the review. The name’s Kim Gyuvin,” the redhead says, giving you a maddening wink before walking away. You splutter at him indignantly, but to deaf ears as he vanishes behind the back door.

[leonawriter]

Who Killed Goro Akechi?

Titled thus because I was just going through the scene right after Mementos merges with reality, after they've failed to defeat the grail, and "Igor" tells Akira that he's lost the game.

And I'm like, ok, I've seen this a fair few times before. I know the script.

But then I was paying attention, and I just went WAIT WAIT WAIT HANG ON A MINUTE HERE.

"In accordance to the game's rules, the defeated must pay a price."

"Your life is forfeit."

"I sentence you to be executed."

And I was just... hang on. There's been more than one player in the game. If we go back to the earlier lines, "Igor" also says "You were mean to bring change to mankind, but it seems that was too much for you."

In a sense, all of this could also be applied to Goro Akechi.

Akechi was also forcing mankind to react and to change, albeit via chaos and uncertainty rather than encouraging people to stand on their own two feet the way the Phantom Thieves were trying to.

And what happens in the engine room?

Akechi loses the game.

He realises that Akira and the PT fooled him, and when he tries to get the better of them one last time, he fails. We often talk about how after he was defeated he "almost went over to their side" - but isn't that another aspect of his "defeat" in Yaldabaoth's eyes? Akechi admits, effectively, that he accepts the Phantom Thieves' way of doing things over his own.

And it's here that we get Cognitive Akechi, who comes in and starts talking about how the Captain (Shido) sees him, gives him an option to rejoin (or for the PT to switch sides), and.... hm, isn't that familiar?

Here's Caroline saying "If that's what our master wishes..." with Akira having a response tree of-

-"You're going to execute me?" -"Are you serious?" -or just plain being unable to speak (he could also be unspeakably angry, but he seems far more scared than angry, here).

Next, Akira refuses to die, because he has people relying on him.

I'm reminded of how with Akechi, once he's behind that bulkhead door, if you haven't finished his confidant he'll say something to the effect of "So my final enemy is a puppet of myself, how fitting."

If you have maxed his confidant? You get Joker telling him he can't die yet, as he has a promise to fulfil ("I'll hold onto your glove") with the implication that it's something that Akechi can use as motivation to want to keep living.

In both, it's "I can't die, I have a reason to live, and that reason is at least one other person."

When the twin wardens try to "execute" Akira, now in his Joker attire as his will of rebellion has manifested, Justine says "If our master orders so... then it cannot be helped..."

I'm reminded of how Cognitive Akechi was a being of pure servitude toward his Captain (master), Shido. If the Captain willed it, he'd even die for him.

This one feels similar, because the twins were never supposed to have "execution" as part of their duties at all, and both parties were pushed into a sense of unfailing loyalty to someone who never cared for them, and who warped their duties to something wrong.

In fact, I just went back to confirm the lines for Cognitive Akechi, and-

Yup.

Top is Cognitive Akechi saying "Captain Shido's orders... He has no need for losers." and the lower one is "Igor" saying "You have lost the game."

Basically, the same lines.

To the point that...

Cognitive Akechi: "Here, I'll give you one last chance. Shoot them."

God of Control: "I shall grant you an opportunity to make a deal with me."

Both times, it's clear that this is the wrong thing to do, and in both cases, the person being offered rejects said deal entirely - Akechi by shooting the switch to activate the bulkhead door, making it impossible for his cognitive self to attack the Phantom Thieves, and Akira by denying Yaldabaoth and reaffirming his bonds with the Thieves once he's told that they're also there.

I titled the post the way I did, because the way Shido is used by Yaldabaoth, I would not be surprised if Cognitive Akechi isn't just a product of Shido's mind protecting him against threats from, say, his own attack dog, but also?

This is Yaldabaoth's way to quite literally execute the first piece he started to play with, since Goro Akechi had failed as a Trickster and had "lost the game" - and as he and cognitive Akechi both say, losers end up dead.

So the question is - who really killed Akechi? Was it Shido's cognition? Was it Yaldabaoth? And was that cognition even an original part of Shido's palace in the first place, to that extent? How much was it "appropriated" at the "right" time, here?

There are far too many coincidences for me to pass it off as such

But the highlight for me at least, is this:

In both terms of Akira and Akechi's "executions," it's their sense of thinking and feeling that "I can't die, I have a reason to live, and that reason is at least one other person" that keeps them alive. And to the point, it's what keeps Akira's sense of rebellion so strong, and against nigh insurmountable odds.

If anything, it supports the fact that with Akechi's confidant maxed, he really does live, because that, too, echoes Akira's experience in the Velvet Room not even a full month later.

[strangerstilinski]

𝙞𝙩 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙨 𝙖 𝙠𝙞𝙨𝙨

𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

word count: 2.5k warnings: none really, fluffy ending, steve is kind of a dick, mention of alcohol, gender neutral reader (pls let me know if i missed anything) based on that scene in tasm where peter spins gwen around to kiss her — with just a dash of enemies to lovers

It should go without saying that Steve Harrington is the bane of your goddamned existence. If the two of you aren't at each other's throats, it typically just means that you're both doing your best to pretend the other doesn't even exist.

And, sure, maybe it drives you a little bit insane that he seems to get along just fine with every person in your friend group except for you. It was like you pushed buttons that Steve wasn't even aware he had.

Nancy finds the whole thing amusing, says that Steve's clearly so in love with you that he doesn't know how to handle it. Eddie swears that Steve looks at you with hearts in his eyes, though any time you've caught his stare those ‘hearts’ tended to look a whole lot more like daggers. Argyle and Robin both insist that love and hate tread a very thin line, and eventually, a little push will have the two of you stumbling head over heels into each other's waiting arms. Johnathan tends to stay out of it, but then, he doesn't really need to say anything, because you've seen that look he gives you when he catches you looking a little too long at the moles dotted along the length of Steve's throat, or that stubborn lock of hair that tumbles over his brow bone, or the way his tongue pokes out and his eyes narrow cutely when he's concentrating-

You hate it. You hate Steve. Even now, you swear you hate him, regardless of the way you shamelessly ogle the curve of his bicep when he reaches across the back of the sofa to drape his arm loosely behind Robin's shoulders. You've accepted it. At this point, allowing yourself to admire his stupidly handsome physique was merely reparations for being forced to put up with him on a near-daily basis. Compensation for the never-ending bad attitude that he seemed to direct solely at you.

“Does anyone hear that?” Steve's voice speaks louder than your own suddenly, effectively cutting you off even though you'd been in the middle of a sentence. His eyes meet yours for just a brief second before his gaze is moving elsewhere, “It's like, this annoying buzzing sound?” He's sitting up a little straighter following his interruption, brows drawing together like he's listening intently for something.

His sudden line of questioning has thoroughly derailed your train of thought. The longwinded story you'd been regaling to the group about a customer at work is cut short, the words dissolving on your tongue as your try to work out what on earth Steve is referring to. Until his interruption, you hadn't heard anything.

“What are you even talking abou-”

“There!” He cuts you off once more, “There it is again! Did you hear that, Robs?” The fingers he nudges into his best friend's ribs makes her squirm away with a deep laugh.

You huff, “Are you seriously implying that I'm the-”

“God, you guys 're hearing that, right?” Steve interrupts with an irritatingly pleased grin on his face, “Like nails on a chalkboard-”

Though Robin's laughter isn't actually directed at you, your face burns hotly anyway. A pity-filled smile graces her lips when she meets your gaze after escaping the wrath of Steve's tickling, and his chuckles of amusement only serve to make you grind your teeth together in irritation.

“Real mature, dickhead.” You snap, snatching up the beer you'd set down on the coffee table when Eddie had actually asked you about your day a few minutes before. “I was in the middle of a story.”

“Yeah, no offense, honey, but I'm not sure any of us were that invested hearing you drone on about the ‘big tip’ some douchebag with a hand tattoo left you.” Steve grumbled with a roll of his eyes, “If your stories weren't so boring, maybe we wouldn't all be sitting here hoping for a hole in the earth to open up under us just so we don't have to keep listening to-”

“Steve. C'mon man-” Eddie tries, though his voice is drowned out by your own.

“Jesus, do you have to be such an asshole all the time?” You snap in Steve's direction.

“I'm just saying,” Steve shrugs, “Probably the only reason he left such a big tip was because pulled the wrong bill out of his wallet, alright? It sure as hell wasn't 'cause of your shining personality.”

“What, and just because you're a jackass, that means no man could ever possibly find me appealing?” You bite back.

“Yeah, well, your pretty face doesn't quite make up for your constant need for attention.”

“My need for attention?” You scoff incredilously, beer slamming back down onto the tabletop in front of you. The rest of your friends seem to fade even further into the background, the rest mist of your rage yet again blinding you to anything that isn't Steve fucking Harrington. “You're the one who can't stand when the focus is on me for ten fucking seconds.”

“So what, if I don't care that some prick hit on you at work-” Steve argues, “Sue me. If that makes me an asshole-”

“It does, as a matter of fact,” You interrupt easily, “Because I'm constantly listening to you whine about your conquest of the week, except I'm able to do so without acting like such a fucking-”

“Careful,” Steve hums, cocky little smirk reemerging on his lips, “You're sounding a little jealous, there, honey.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

“'S my house,” He returns just as quickly, “How 'bout you fuck off.”

The blood in your veins is full of fire. Your face is burning with rage and your eyes prickle traitorously with frustrated tears, because that customer from your story? He'd been the highlight of your god-awful day. The rest of it had been a fucking disaster.

You'd slipped on freshly mopped floors and dropped an entire table's drink orders. Subsequently, you'd been forced to finish your shift with sticky, soda pop-soaked socks that squelched wetly in your shoes with every step. Your boss had given you shit for the whole mess, even though it was one of your coworkers who had failed to put out the wet floor sign in the first place. You'd proceeded to burn yourself on a hotplate, twice. And then, after all that, you'd had little choice but to take an ice-cold shower before heading over to Steve's house, because the hot water heater in your decrepit apartment building was apparently broken. Again.

“Y'know what?” You grumble in defeat, “Fine.”

You're already rising to your feet, wiping the palms of your hands down your jeans to dry the lingering condensation from your half-finished beer. You blink furiously to push back the tears that had been pooling at your waterline, shaking your head at the ridiculousness of your own emotional state.

“Wha-” Steve is watching you with something like concern in his eyes now, “Wh-Where're you goin'?”

“I'm leaving,” You announce, gaze steadfastly avoiding where Steve has removed his arm from around Robin's shoulders so he can sit at the edge of the couch, as if he's planning to rise to his own feet at any moment. “I, um. I'll talk to you guys later.”

There are scattered protests from everyone, but you don't bear them any mind. You're already turning on your heel and moving toward the entryway with hurried steps. The front door slams shut behind you before you've even gotten your jacket all the way on. You've still got one arm struggling to find the hole of your sleeve when you hear the door swing back open behind you.

“Hey! Wait up.”

You're not sure why, but Steve's voice makes you slow where you've begun to move down the driveway, though you don't turn around to face him. He calls out to you again as he finally catches up with you. He all but throws himself into your path and at the risk of running straight into him, your steps finally come to a stop.

“C'mon, honey. Wait, wait, wait-”

You blow out a frustrated breath, your arms crossing over your chest like that might somehow put up a physical barrier between the two of you.

“I really don't want to do this with you, Harrington. Alright?” An air of defeat laces your words, one hand coming up to rub at the headache that's begun to pulse between your brows, “Just.. Not tonight.”

You move to step around him and the heel of your boots click against the pavement once, twice. But then something hooks into the belt loop on your jeans and you're tugged back. You nearly lose your footing at the unexpected shift in momentum, knees wobbling unsteadily for just a moment before you're twirled back around to face him and then your palms are meeting a firm chest.

The adrenaline has your brain whiting out for just a moment, any and all thoughts screeching to a halt. Warmth seeps into your palms from beneath the thin cotton of Steve's tshirt. The racing of your own heart in your ears drowns out the distant sound of laughter and the opening trailers of a movie rental coming from back inside the house. Your eyes are level with Steve's chin, your wide gaze locked on his lips as they quirk up at one corner with his gentle smirk. You're still standing pigeon-toed between his own larger feet, a little off balance but held firmly in place by the wide hand splayed across your waist.

“I'm sorry.” Steve says quietly — unexpectedly earnest.

It's only been a second or two since he dragged you back into his space, and to your surprise, his head dips, just a fraction. Steve brushes his nose against your own, a gentle stroke that sends butterflies in your stomach fluttering wildly. The cool mint clinging to his breath fans out over your face, smelling of the gum he's always chewing and smacking obnoxiously, but the scent this close is intoxicating. The hand he brings up to cradle your jaw is intoxicating. The loose flap of leather on his watch that tickles at the side of your throat. The way he's leaning in-

The passion he kisses you with, from the moment your lips touch, is intoxicating. It's all-encompassing. You can't think, and you're not entirely sure you're even breathing, but Steve's lips are moving in unhurried synchronization with your own. Your knees are weak. You're gripping the material of his shirt in your fists just for something to hold onto, but Steve' arm is curled tight around the curve in your spine now to hold you steady.

His tongue brushes warmly against your lips, licking softly at the seam of your mouth like he's asking for permission. The desperate sound that crawls up your throat at just that quick brush of his tongue nestles in the depths of Steve's brain where he files it away for later. He hitches his arm even tighter at your waist, pulling your stomachs flush until your chest heaves against his own.

Your head is a little fuzzy when you separate long enough for you to take a breath, and you're gasping almost comically in an effort to fill your lungs. Steve's quiet chuckle meets your ears, his hand sliding back from your jaw to cup the nape of your neck.

“You kissed me.”

The words fall from your lips in a whisper of disbelief. Your eyes are still closed, lashes fluttering against the tops of your cheeks. You’re terrified if you open them even a crack, the entire scene will suddenly fade away around you like some kind of dream. The airy cadence of your voice is partially due to your surprise, but also thanks to the far-too-easy grace with which you've been spun and manhandled and swept entirely off your feet.

“I did,” Steve agrees just as quietly, “I did do that.”

His forehead meets your own as your eyes flutter open and he simply holds you there for a moment, nose dragging across your cheek before he presses another quick kiss to your lips. His head tilts, thumb stroking soft over the side of your throat before his mouth finds yours again, and again. These kisses are different — Casual and tender, sweet and unhurried. Like he's kissing you just because he can.

“You-” Is all you manage to get out before your words are silenced by his lips slotting between your own, but you carry on with barely a pause as you click apart once again, “Y'r still doing it.”

“Mhm.” He hums easily, the sound rumbling beneath your hands on his chest.

“Why-”

Kiss.

“Are you-”

Kiss.

“Kissing me?”

Steve's breath mingles hotly with your own in the narrow breadth of space between your parted lips, “D'you want me to stop?”

“No, no, I- Hell no.”

And there's that perfect smile of his. Straight teeth make an appearance as his lips quirk up at the corner, a breathy spearmint scented laugh that sounds a little too relieved for the casual coolness that he's clearly trying to give off. His mouth opens like he's going to say something, but no words seem to come. Lips parted, throat bobbing as he swallows around the heavy silence weighing down his tongue.

He looks so pretty like this, you think. The streetlight light at the end of his driveway catches in his brown eyes, caramel sparking with flecks of gold and green that you've never noticed before, but you're sure you'll never be able to forget the sight of it now. You're still sharing breaths, faces so close that you can't avoid watching the way his full lashes blink at you dumbly. As if he isn't the one who spun you around and pulled you close and effortlessly gave you the best kiss of your entire life. As if, maybe, he didn't quite expect to make it this far, and now he's at a loss for how to proceed.

You release his shirt from your fist, the fabric crinkled and stretched with how tight you'd been gripping it, only to slide your hand up the back of his neck. The tip of his nose catches the bottom of your own, lips brushing faintly while your hand finds a new home in his hair. The soft strands tangle between your fingers when you give it a gentle tug and push up on your toes to draw yourself impossibly closer.

“If I'd known kissing you was all it took to get you to shut up, Harrington, I would've done it ages ago.” Your quip lacks its usual bite, but it breaks the silence between you, and it also seems to break Steve out of whatever spell he'd fallen under.

His tongue pokes out to wet his lips as he searches for an appropriate response, “Maybe we'll just have to keep kissing then.”

You find yourself swaying just a little on your feet at the way his eyes flick slow back and forth between your own, “Yeah.. Yeah, Maybe we will.”

When his lips descend on your own again, it's ages before he lets you back up for a decent breath of air, and even then he parts from you with obvious reluctance. You're both breathing heavy, lips a little swollen and shining wetly. Steve's expression has a warmth that you realize you've never actually seen directed at you before. Steve smiles at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and suddenly all you can think about is what Eddie has said a hundred times over.

It's like there are hearts in his eyes.

[kruegerspillow]

serendipity ; simon ghost riley

creators note: i love this man he deserves all the kisses in the world mwamwamwa my hyperfixation is stuck on him aaarghhh this is just little scenario i had in my own mind LMAO

warnings: swearing, this is after johnny had died guys sorry :(, might be ooc! Simon, NOT PROOFREAD

pt 2 here!

The battlefield shouldn't be a place where you could joke around, no, not at all. It is a result of greed— it is the effect that has been left by politics. It captures the eyes of many, yet, it doesn't stop. No matter how many times you plead, no matter how hard you beg, it won't stop. War isn't God, it won't forgive you for what you've done.

The screaming of children will echo through the hollowness of your mind. It will follow you around like a shadow. It will be implanted in your soul like a curse left by Adam. Their body parts are scattered and no longer recognizable. The city that was once your shelter had faded into nothing but debris. War is a consequence of our sins.

The wind howled loudly as you made your way through the isolated village. The field was now left with silence apart from the heavy breathing of your teammates through the radio. Your hand gripped the rifle as you furrowed your brows, watching through the bush to see if there were any movements left in the area. For once, the atmosphere in war was strangely... quiet. Clear. You thought to yourself before clicking on the button of the radio.

"Area's clear. I will be exfiltrating, cap'n." You whispered into the radio, hearing static noises from the other line before a gruff 'affirm' was returned.

Your heartbeat quickened with adrenaline as you walked through the bushes, searching for more enemies before making your way to the extraction point. Suddenly, the rustling of a bush could be heard— that was definitely not you. Your head perked up at the sudden noise, feeling your body tense before turning to the source of the sound. A sharp bang can be heard from behind you and the sound was not even a few yards away. You felt a gloved hand abruptly covering your mouth, the material of the gloves felt familiar—

"Quiet." Your lieutenant's voice came out as a whisper, having just killed a hostile enemy from their team. "More of 'em are 'ere, don't make a single noise ya bloody sod."

"I've gotten rid of them, haven't I—"

"Bloody reinforcements."

There were a few minutes of silence, apart from your heavy breathing. Your back pressed against his chest while his hand covered your mouth. Helicopters hovered over the both of you, flying towards the secure area before making its landing. Simon let go of your mouth before standing up, glancing at you from the holes of his mask as he waited for you to stand. You quickly stood back up before the two of you made your way towards the helicopter, seeing your other teammates jogging to the helicopter before getting in. Captain Price pulled you up while Simon went to sit in one of the seats. Captain Price tugged you to a safer corner of the helicopter, making sure no one fell out.

"Fuckin' aced it, team." Captain Price spoke up, his voice hinted with pride. "Bloody nice."

“Paperworks won't be bloody nice, eh?”

"Christ, ya already thinkin' of the responsibilities, Gaz?"

You swore you could feel Simon's gaze burning a hole through your body as you stood in the corner, watching the banter between Gaz and the Captain. The helicopter ascended before flying back to the base. You could feel the tension between the both of you, surrounding you with an almost overwhelming intensity. Why's he starin' at me like that? You thought to yourself, though you quickly dismissed the thought as you looked out the window. Suddenly, you felt a small nudge on your elbow.

"Muppet, won't ya talk to that lonely bloke there?" Gaz whispered, making sure it's inaudible for Simon to hear before he motioned towards your lieutenant. Gaz had a small, playful grin on his lips.

"Who are you callin' a muppet, huh?"

"Hey, don't ignore what I've jus' said. Last time I've seen lieutenant all cheery was when Soap was still with us, aye?"

"... What're you tryin' to do, Gaz?"

"Jesus, jus' give 'im some company, alrigh'? You both are alike. Remember, great minds think alike."

You scoffed at his words, shaking your head in disbelief as he let out a small laugh. You crossed your arms in an almost defensive way, making your decision before you strode towards your lieutenant. The words in your throat died down when you got closer to him, sitting down beside him before leaning back on the seat. His gaze followed your weary form, and not a single word left his mouth. Finally, you gathered the courage to look up at him.

"Well, 'ello lieutenant." You greeted him.

"You don't need'a talk to me, y'know tha'?"

"Well, yes, but—"

"I 'eard what Gaz said to ya. 'M not one for idle talk, anyway."

You let out a small huff, taking in his words before resting your hands in your lap. The silence took over the conversation, creating an almost awkward atmosphere between the both of you. Simon's gaze lingered on you, as if reading you like an open book. He blinked a few times, waiting for your next move.

"Well, he isn't very good at whisperin', isn't he..."

A small scoff left his lips, "What do ya think?"

'It's not like you're any better, aye, lieutenant? Nearly got the both of us killed when you tried talkin' to me in the bushes."

The words left your mouth almost instantly, nearly making you regret your abrupt comment on him. Just as you were about to apologize, the helicopter landed. Simon stood up from his seat, glancing down at you once more before waiting for the rest of the team to jump out of the helicopter. You went along with him, feeling almost nervous after talking to your superior like that. Though, you could see the small crinkle in the corner of his eyes— a small sign that he was smiling underneath his mask, even if it was just a little. His smile was quickly washed away by his stoic facade as he turned his head to you. Did the stone-cold lieutenant let down his walls around you?

"...I don't bite, don't worry." The words left his mouth as he made his way through the base, before leaving you to walk to his quarters.

Fuck, what have you gotten yourself into now?

[azzifuddslover]

༯ OFF THE COURT — CHAPTER ONE 𝜗𝜚

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

trope: “enemies” to lovers

theme: angst?

tw: light swearing, self homophobia

word count: 2.2k

a/n: hii! i absolutely adore reading pazzi fics so i figured i’d write one myself 🙃 i’m sorry this is so boring but i kinda want to build it up yk. i also apologize for my lack of basketball terminology. and i’m aware yanna and ashlynn aren’t the same year as carol and azzi, but for the purpose of this series, pretend they are.

USA BASKETBALL TRIALS

regardless of paige’s flashy smile and head held high, her heart was beating out of her chest with nerves. this was it. the USA basketball trials she’s been working so hard for. it was time to prove she was the best she knew she could be.

walking into the open gym, there was a few girls scattered around, talking quietly amongst their friends. some were already getting reps in, working on their dribbling and shooting while others stretched. paige felt her heart slow down at the sight of other young girls looking equally as nervous.

quickly setting her belongings in a nearby locker, paige began to stretch her already sore limbs. yesterday, she practiced and practiced until the sun went down, trying to calm the overwhelming feeling of what if i’m not good enough?

paige looked over at the gym door as it opened loudly, spotting a curly headed girl clutching the straps of her backpack tightly. paige’s cheeks immediately heated at the sight of the beautiful brunette; she looked like nobody she’s ever seen before.

“alright ladies,” the head USA coach shouted, “time for warms up. get stretched, practice shooting, then we’ll get this show on the road.”

one hour later in and paige started to feel herself. her confidence spiked as soon as shooting begun after noticing how she’s clearly one of the best ones here, although she’d never say that out loud.

it eventually came time for 3v3s, so the coaches could closely analyze each player’s strengths. the first team was fran, azzi, and caitlin, while the second was paige, aliyah, and celeste.

it started with caitlin draining a few 3s, aliyah getting all the rebounds, and paige raking up assist after assist. once azzi had her hands on the ball, though, was when everyone realized who they were up against. azzi, with her textbook perfect shot, hit five 3s back to back, regardless of the good defense celeste was applying. paige was shocked to see such a good shooter, especially one she’s never heard of before these tryouts.

after a failed shot, aliyah secured the rebound and passed it to paige who then moved it up the floor at full speed. azzi, the slightly shorter brunette who paige noticed earlier, was successfully keeping up with her pace.

annoyed at azzi’s skills, paige passed the ball behind her back, causing azzi to slip to her knees. paige then took the easy layup, smiling smugly to herself.

“jesus,” azzi muttered, still on the floor.

paige couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of azzi on the ground, considering how good of a player she truly is.

“you good, azzi?” fran asked, helping pull her to her feet.

“yeah, just fine,” azzi replied.

paige didn’t ignore the glare she got from azzi, who purposefully hit her shoulder.

“it was an accident,” paige said defensively.

“whatever,” azzi rolled her eyes, brushed it off, and continued to focus on the 3v3.

only a minute after, azzi had her hands on the ball, bringing it up the court, with paige on her heels. she got to the 3 point line; paige set up her defense with her hand out, ready for the 3 shot to come, but azzi took a step back and drained it before paige could react.

azzi snickered at paige’s expression. it was paige’s turn to harshly glare at her, which only caused azzi to laugh harder.

“oh, shut up, you’re not even that good,” paige lied through her teeth.

“yeah, well, you aren’t either,” azzi said.

“paige, azzi, can we focus, please?” the coach shouted, making several heads turn to look at the two who turned red and nodded.

five days past, and the rest of the tryout went smoothly. azzi and paige didn’t have to interact again, and certainly made good impressions on the coaches with their skill sets.

today was the day the team was posted, and paige couldn’t be more nervous yet excited. the final 20 girls were all doing their own thing, some continued to shoot, while others socialized with the friends they’ve made. paige worked on her dibbling on her own, stealing glances at azzi who was with celeste, laughing together. paige couldn’t help the jealous feeling she got in her chest.

“it’s posted!” one of the girls squealed.

all 20 young girls rushed over to the paige that said the lucky 12 who made the USA basketball, 2017 team. somehow, azzi and paige ended up standing next to one another, but didn’t seem to mind at this moment. once it was paige’s turn to scroll through the names, she quickly spotted hers and smiled to herself, proudly. azzi was next to look, and instantly recognized hers right under paige’s. she blew out a breath in relief and congratulated the other girls that also made the team, as well as comforted those who didn’t.

paige’s eyes wandered to azzi, annoyed that she made the team but also secretly pleased, knowing how well of a player she is. she told herself it was for that reason, and that reason only.

“congrats, paige,” azzi told her, though her face was said she was not happy about them being on the same team. not after their little interaction in day one of tryouts.

“thanks, i guess,” paige muttered, keeping her face neutral.

they went their separate ways, azzi going to her friend celeste while paige walked over to aliyah and caitlin. azzi pretended to ignore the looks paige was sending her, deciding to focus on her and celeste’s conversation rather than wondering what paige was thinking.

throughout all of the USA basketball games, azzi and paige continued to ignore one another. they barely spoke, and if forced to, it wouldn’t last long.

one night after a tough game, paige laid in her hotel bed, scrolling on her phone while her roommate, samantha, was sound asleep. she stumbled upon azzi’s instagram paige, totally on accident. she definitely didn’t look it up. she couldn’t stand azzi.

paige scrolled through azzi’s posts, closely looking at azzi throughout the years. paige felt her cheeks grow warm at azzi’s beauty; her full lips not that she was looking at her lips, perfect brown curls, cute ass dimples.

with a slip of a finger, paige accidentally liked a photo from 2015. panicking, paige closed instagram and threw her phone down.

“oh, shit,” paige muttered, embarrassed and praying azzi wouldn’t notice the small like.

only a few minutes later, paige felt her phone buzz from underneath her. it was a instagram notification. paige’s heart began to race as her shaking hand clicked on the notification. of course, it was a dm from none other than azzi fudd.

stalker, much? it read.

paige’s face reddened as embarrassment flooded her body. not knowing how to respond, paige accidentally left azzi on read for a short while.

damn, read too? okay paige.

paige’s eyes widen at the dm. why did azzi care that she left her on read? they hate each other. she should leave it alone, really.

sorry. and it was an accident, paige typed.

anxiously waiting for azzi to reply, paige continued to observe azzi’s few posts. pictures with her friends and family, a cute photo of her dog, pictures from previous basketball games. she attempted and failed to hide her admiration for azzi, but she just couldn’t help it. her beauty was unreal.

paige hated these warm feelings she was having towards azzi. towards a girl in general. why can’t i be normal? she would constantly ask herself.

lol ur fine, read azzi’s dm.

paige didn’t want the conversation to end, not just because she was bored out of her mind, but also because she kind of liked talking to azzi, although she would never admit it.

so wyd? paige quickly sent without having a chance to overthink it.

why do u care? azzi replied. she had a good point; why did paige care what azzi was up too? she definitely had better things to do than texting paige, someone she hated, at 10 pm.

dunno, just curious i guess. forget it lol paige replied.

i’m laying in bed, wondering why in the world is paige bueckers looked at my instagram posts.

well damn, she had paige there. what excuse did she have? i wanted to look at you even though i’m supposed to hate you? that wouldn’t do.

must be a glitch was the best paige could come up with. she definitely didn’t want to admit to looking at her profile, though it’s obvious she was.

a glitch. sure paige, whatever you say.

not knowing how to continue the conversation, paige liked the message and plugged her phone into the charger. sleep soon consumed her, letting all of the azzi thoughts go.

it was the day of the final USA basketball season. the girls have won all of the games, blowing each team out of the water. azzi’s 3s were on point nearly every time, while paige mastered in passing to open teammates.

the team was up 25 points against canada. both paige and azzi were doing well the entire game, so they were given a break to rest on the bench. paige shifted nervously with having azzi’s presence so close, still extremely embarrassed about her accidentally liking an old post of azzi’s only a couple of nights ago.

azzi was laughing at something celeste said, causing paige to look over at her. when they made eye contact, paige almost instantly looks away while her cheeks grew pink.

get azzi out of your mind, she told herself over and over. frustration overwhelmed her because why in the world did paige feel for azzi? she wasn’t suppose to likes girls. she just wanted to be normal.

“you okay, paige?” azzi questioned, cautiously looking over at the girl.

“just fine, azzi,” paige nearly shouted.

“okay, geez, i was just asking,” azzi scrunched her eyebrows, confused at paige’s outburst.

“don’t,” paige answered coldly, earning a glare from not only azzi but also celeste and fran, who had previously heard paige.

the game ended soon after the two’s interaction. the 2017 USA basketball season had come to a close, with them winning 105-71. the girls began shouting and hugging one another. paige hugged most of her teammates, all besides azzi who she made a point to ignore.

mid hug with aliyah, paige felt someone back into her, hard. shocker, it was azzi who was beaming, still absorbing the win.

trying to ignore azzi’s cute ass smile, paige said, “watch where you’re going.”

azzi’s smile faltered immediately at paige’s attitude. “it was an accident, god.”

“yeah, well, make less of them,” paige rolled her eyes, moving away from azzi.

however, azzi was done with the constant annoyance paige carried when talking with her. azzi quickly grabbed the older girl’s shoulder, causing her to face her.

“what is your problem, paige?”

anger clouded paige’s face, “you, dammit!”

“what have i ever done to you?” azzi shouted back.

“god, azzi, just leave me alone!” paige pushed azzi back, making her slip into the backs of her teammates.

“jesus, paige, calm down, will you?” caitlin said, helping azzi reposition herself.

paige looked at her teammates glaring at her. feeling ashamed and embarrassed, she bolted for the exit door, never turning back regardless of the coaches shouts.

PRESENT DAY

can u hurry tf up? nika’s message came into paige’s phone.

“oh fuck,” paige had totally forgotten today was the day incoming freshman were being introduced to everyone. paige, nika, and aubrey had taken the responsibility to show them around, though paige fought it every chance she got. she knew who was going to be here, and dreaded having to show her around.

paige quickly brushed her teeth, threw on a comfortable outfit, and tied her blonde hair back into a low ponytail. she slipped on a pair of nike slides and made her way to the gym where they planned to meet.

aubrey and nika were already in the gym by the time paige got there, no surprise. paige was constantly late to things like this, not that she cared.

“about time, p,” nika called out as paige made her way to them.

“yeah, yeah, sorry,” paige smiled at the two of her closest friends.

“when do you think they’re gonna be here?” aubrey asked.

“pretty soon, i think,” nika answered, checking her phone for the time.

“i heard they’re really good,” aubrey said, a grin on her face.

“i sure hope, cause we need it,” nika replied, laughing a little.

“hey! i think we make do with our players just fine,” paige told nika.

“p, we’re down like 5 players. we need this.”

as soon as nika said it, the gym door opened and in walked the 4 incoming freshman. caroline led the group, then ayanna, followed by ashlynn. paige’s eyes wandered before looking back at the last freshman. as soon as paige saw her, paige’s heart quickened and her palms began to sweat. azzi fudd looked the exact same as she did back in 2017, with the same bright smile and dimples popping out. however, when azzi’s line of sight landed on paige, her smiled dropped.

“here we go,” paige whispered to herself before the freshmen crossed the room to the three girls.