#i'm excluding you because i think you're too good to be here

[yandere-daydreams]

okay. okay. batfam fic. is this a really late response? who cares (the answer is no, fuck you, it's perfectly on-time)! i just had a lot i wanted to say. so... let's start. i LOVEEE having a reader that's so aware? i just think - while i adore when readers kick and scream or whimper in trained obedience or whatever - there's something so scrumptious about someone who knows they're trapped and is trying to learn to maneuver carefully (even though it all goes to shit anyway). i can't help but wonder what would happen as time goes on. or immediately in the aftermath. would reader even be able to attempt to go back to pretending everything was normal? or would it just send them straight to where they were at the start? and then i think about everyone else. how would they respond? would the reader even tell them? in an effort to maintain normalcy, would they keep it a secret from the rest of the family? or would they be so distressed they'd be unable to? and then their response would really be the deciding factor in the family's response. if they pretended it didn't happen, how long would it take them to figure it out? and how would they respond to knowing they withheld that info? if they were distressed and told them, would they explode as a family? or would it worm into their heads as... a more concrete idea? if jason did it... why can't some of the others? i mean, i bet one of them would be willing to believe that the reader wouldn't have been so upset, if they had just been the one to do it. jason's so rough and rude, even without trying. he can be so mean. no. reader should have that experience with someone who is gonna be nice to them, who wants nothing but their pleasure, over and over and over and.... well, you get the point. personally, it felt so realistic to have the reader try and be calm and rational. i'm kind of passive when it comes to confrontation. i'd prefer to keep the peace. but.... well... i'm also curious. i probably wouldn't be able to stop myself from eavesdropping or snooping, especially if i knew it concerned me. i'd want as much info as possible, even if it made me sick. sorry this is so so long i'm gonna cut it off here just want to say i LOVED the fic. your batfam is my favourite. i love how you just make them all such freaks in their own way. none of them are safe.

ahh thank you so much! long asks like this in response to my silly little fics keep me fed for days T-T

plans for a continuation are still solidifying and i'd hate to give two much away, but prt one was very much the reader desperately trying to prolong the 'fucking around' phase (or, the not fucking around phase? ig?), whereas we've thoroughly transitioned into the 'finding out' stage of things at the time a continuation would pick up. they're all such poorly contained freaks when everyone's still trying to pretend they don't want to fuck their step-mom, it might take a little while to figure out how they'd behave once fucking the aforementioned step-mom is up for further discussion.

[nicksolemnlyswears]

DUDDDDE!!

I am in LOVE with your writing. I have been craving some good Han Lue works and you're filling the hole!

Everywhere is extremely lacking in quality Han Lue content bro 😭😭

But any whosies.

I was wondering if it were at all possible to request a Han work from you (from what I've seen you still have requests open so if you don't im sorry)

Specifically something about a reader who's fucking amazing at driving, and has been crushing on Han for a while, and the two decode to race (set in Tokyo) and whoever wins gets the loser to do what they want. Y'know classic setup.

You could choose where this leads to. Idc if we win or loose. All I want is a little bit of fluff sprinkled amongst some smut mayhaps. You could do this in headcannon format btw don't feel obligated to write the whole thing.

I'm just thirsting for any thing I can take 💀🙏🏼

Take your time! <3

CHALLENGE ACCEPTED

pairing: han lue x racer!reader

words: 11.4k

warnings: some cursing and smut (pls wrap it before you tap it) don't judge my smut too much, it's been a while since i've written one

notes: hi anon! thank you for all your sweet, sweet words 🥺 i hope this is somewhere along the lines of what you were thinking of. as soon as i saw your request i was ✨inspired✨ it's been a long time since i've been so hooked by a oneshot. i have worked on it almost everyday since i received it so thank you! i changed the request just a little bit, i hope you don't mind.

trust me i know there is a ridiculous lack in han content! it's the reason i'm here writing over this man! there is not enough content for the speed i consume it, lol. i've read my own headcanons like 10 times already, excluding the times i was working on it.

anyways! might have gotten a little carried away but i enjoyed writing it so much! here you go! enjoy!

i really really hope you like it!!

Tokyo was the city where you learned how to street race. Weaving through the cars on the highway became second nature the harder you pressed the gas pedal. The neon lights turned into blurs as you sped down traffic, whether it was in search of a prize or a thrill.

You were meant to meet Han Lue. His presence became known as soon as he stepped foot in the parking complexes that serve as makeshift race tracks. He quickly became popular with the crowd, especially when he joined DK's crew.

His races were seen as exclusive, known to happen once in a blue moon. He was totally opposite to you. You took the opportunity to race any moment you could. It's what lead you to become a good racer. Practice makes perfect, after all.

'Good racer' is a bit of an understatement. You're one of the best right after DK. There's a debate about whether the second best is you or Han. Each person can take their pick. Many have suggested the idea for the both of you to race, but Han has shot down each and every one. He doesn't need to prove himself to anyone. Besides, he hasn't had anything to gain from racing you.

People like to call you 'Angel' because when you started participating in the races, you looked like an absolute angel, but soon after, they discovered you raced like the devil. You fool everyone around you, even with the way you drive. Whenever someone has to go against you, they think they have your strategy down, yet you switch it up every time.

The distinctive revving of your car alerts Han of your presence. He glances to his left, where you've parked right beside him. As you open the door and step out of your car, he opens a bag of chips, depositing one into his mouth.

You walk over to him, leaning against his car like he is. The bare skin of your back arching slightly as it touches the cool metal. "Have I missed anything?"

Han shakes his head cooly, watching his surroundings. He spares you a glance, taking in what you're wearing. A short, shimmery dress with an open back and high heels. Seems like you don't plan on racing tonight. You refuse to race in high heels. You've tried before and failed. You didn't lose, but you did break off both heels.

You feel his eyes trailing over your body, and you don't mind it. You like that you can catch his attention that way. Having a crush on a guy like Han takes work. He has every woman's attention in the racing underground. They often cling to his arms and bat their eyelashes his way, and he has gladly taken a few of them home.

"You done judging my outfit?" You say, looking at him.

"Not judging, admiring," he promptly replies with a small shrug.

That right there is what feeds into your silly little crush. Han isn't afraid of your comments or banter. If you look good, he'll say it. It's the way he says it that irks you, though. He is so nonchalant and aloof like he's commenting on the weather.

It doesn't help that he's never truly made a move on you. He considers you his friend and acts that way (most of the time, at least). You hate every moment because being his friend is the last thing you want.

"I take it you're not gonna race tonight?" He asks, already knowing the answer. He just needed an excuse to talk to you. Digging into his bag of chips, he grabbed another one to pop into his mouth.

"Not unless it's against you," you respond cheekily.

Han chuckles, "Not you too."

"Are you afraid of losing, Han?" You ask him, keeping your eyes on the race about to start. Why else would he avoid racing you?

Han props one arm on the roof of his car, facing you and saying, "If you're into racing, you can't be afraid to lose, Angel."

"Then why don't you spoil me a little and race me?" You hum, turning your head to face him. He's much closer than you anticipated, but you resist the urge to pull back despite the reddening of your cheeks. You want Han to know you like him even if you refuse to say it out loud.

"Maybe one day when I have something to race for," he responds simply, kissing your cheek and turning back to watch the race.

You release a shaky sigh and try to calm your pounding heart. Extending a hand, you dip your fingers into Han's nearly empty bag of chips and steal one for yourself. Han doesn't mind lowering the bag to make it easier for you. There's a smirk on his face as he fully well knows what he did. It's fun to make you flustered.

Han is out on the streets of Tokyo doing business or collecting his money from the greedy hands of wanna be gangsters. It's entertaining, to say the least, although sometimes it gets tedious. It's only fun when they get rowdy and want to intimidate him. They should know better than to judge Han by his calm exterior.

He's walking by the busy streets of Shibuya, the shopping district of Tokyo, minding his business. Han avoids the masses of people until he looks into a store and sees you. You're by the checkout desk, ringing out a client.

Han can't help it; he's drawn to you. Forgetting the wad money he has to collect, he enters the store. The bell on top of it chimes, prompting you to greet the customer in an abnormally cheery tone.

"Hello, welcome to-Han?" You stutter over the greeting, seeing his slightly mocking grin.

Han walks over to you and leans on the counter, there was barely anyone in the store now. Perfect timing. He assesses you and your overly pink clothes, bedazzled name tag, and glossy pink lips. It's unlike you to be so pink. He recalls you telling him you hate the wretched color.

"So this is where you work, Angel," he hums, toying with the trinkets on the checkout counter.

"Not everyone can survive with racing and sketchy side deals," You mutter. One hand on your tilted hip as you shoot him an annoyed look.

If racing made you enough money, you certainly would not be working in a store that makes you wear pink on every single shift. You could get more involved in the sketchy part of racing, but things are alright for now.

"True," Han stifles a laugh. He grabs a lollipop from the big jar filled with sweets for the paying customers and pops it into his mouth.

You extend a hand to throw away the colorful wrapping, and he places it gently on your hand, fingertips grazing your palm. You're not a teenager to be reacting over such minuscule actions, yet you do.

"What are you doing here, Han?" Han adores it when you say his name that way, pretending to be annoyed by his presence when in reality, you love having him around.

"Wanted to visit my favorite girl," he responds aloofly, carefully gauging your reaction. As he expected, your cheeks redden, and you try to hide it.

"Did you know lying makes your nose grow long," you scoff, rolling your eyes.

"Could be useful," Han says cheekily, causing your blush to deepen.

"If you're not going to buy anything, you can't be here," you shoot with a pout.

You weren't prepared to face Han this afternoon. You didn't get to repeat your affirmation as you do every night you encounter him. His constant playfulness throws you off, not giving you the opportunity to compose yourself.

"Oh no, consumerism got its claws on you," he jokes sarcastically. You glare at him and cross your arms over your chest, which only emphasizes the size of your chest. "Fine, help me find a new jacket?"

You round the counter and motion for Han to follow you toward the men's section. Your coworker will have no problem taking over the checkout counter.

You shoot Han question after question in search of the perfect jacket for him: colors, textures, durability, versatility, sizing, and so on. He responds just as quickly, propping an arm up and leaning against a rack of clothes as he watches you storm all over the store in search of the item that screams Han. He had no intentions of buying anything today but seeing how invested you got it leaves him no choice.

"I quite like this one," you beam, standing Han in front of a full-length mirror. You slide off the jacket he's wearing and replace it with the nice black leather jacket you found for him. Dusting him off, you look into the mirror seeing how perfectly it fits his broad shoulders.

"Why do I feel like you're giving me the most expensive one?" Han asks, looking at himself in the mirror.

He had to admit you picked well. He looks great in the black leather jacket. It didn't have too many buckles to make him uncomfortable, and it wasn't too warm either. The material felt nice and luxurious hence his comment.

"You asked for my help," you shrug, "It's not my fault I have expensive taste. Besides, you look hot in it." You wink at Han through the mirror.

Han tries to hide the smile forming on his lips. You were getting bolder and bolder. He knows about your crush on him; you're terrible at hiding it. Truthfully, he's felt the same from the moment he saw you race. You're oblivious, though, so he likes to tease you.

"I'll take it," Han sighs, refusing to look at the price tag. "Might even wear it on a date."

"Oh, you've got a date?" Your smile falters, quickly regretting picking such a nice outfit that makes him look so handsome. You'd definitely put out if a man wore that to a date and was as lovely as Han. All of your hard work just for another girl to enjoy it. If you catch one of Han's little friends wrapped around the jacket...you will burn it.

"Not yet," he says mysteriously, taking off the jacket and returning to the checkout counter. Han has to get going. He does have to collect his money. Especially now that you've convinced him to buy the expensive leather jacket. 'It's an investment,' he tells himself.

"She'll be one lucky girl," you huff, scanning the tag, carefully folding it, and placing it on a bag. "Don't worry, I'll apply the friends and family discount."

You watch Han go through the display window and hope he was just fucking with you on the whole date thing. You can live with your crush and have him as just a friend, but if he gets a girlfriend, you will not be able to manage it. You scold yourself silently for acting like a lovesick teenager. You're better than that. Right?

Taking the party to Han's club after a race is a must, especially after winning six thousand dollars. You won't have to worry about rent for at least six months, which is something to celebrate.

You park next to Han's car, and he waits for you to enter the plain-looking building. People greet him left and right as they go through the door that pours music and lights each time it's opened.

"You sure are popular," you tease him, leisurely walking towards him.

"Comes with the territory," Han responds without missing a beat. "Ready?" He asks, motioning for you to walk ahead of him.

"Always," you chirp. You purposefully accentuate the sway of your hips, giving Han something to look at.

Being a Friday night, the inside is filled to the brim, there isn't any space for more drunken people. Using your short height to your advantage, you easily find a way to the connecting hallway between this part of the club and the more exclusive one.

Han isn't as lucky constantly losing you from his sight. He's conscious that you are a grown woman capable of making your own decisions and caring for yourself, but he'd feel better being with you.

When he catches up to you at a point, he grabs your hips, pressing you against him, preventing you from getting lost again. You look back, startled, expecting to see a stranger rubbing against you. Noticing this, Han quickly calms you, "It's just me, Angel."

'It's just Han,' you repeat to yourself. You grab onto one of his hands, holding onto your hip, taking full advantage of the situation. Having Han wrapped around you feels like being on cloud nine. If this wasn't his club, you'd be going in circles, so he never pulls away.

With Han holding onto you, the way to the 'not-so-secret' hallway takes longer than usual. Not that you're complaining, though! Han's firm grip makes you fall harder for him. It fuels your imagination on how it would feel in other situations.

Han enjoys this position just as much as you do. He can pretend it's a safety thing as he steers you away from the sweaty bodies of drunks dancing, but it's for his selfish gain.

Having your body close to him reminds him of what he's missing and desperately desires. It started as a little innocent game for Han, knowing you had a crush on him, but then it turned into something more. He likes that you have feelings for him and wants it to stay that way. Han wants your attention on him all the time. His games are over; he wants you.

To your surprise, Han doesn't let go of your waist when you enter the hallway. Instead, he slings one arm around it as he walks beside you. "Maybe we should've taken the other entrance," he smirks.

"And miss the show?" You chuckle, finding a couple making out in the deserted hallway. Neither is willing to admit it's not about the show but about Han's proximity.

Unlike all the other times in the past you've partied with Han, he doesn't let go of you for more than two minutes. You dance all night together, just the two of you, no girls coming up to Han and no guys coming up to you. There simply wasn't a window of opportunity.

"You enjoying yourself?" He says in your ear over the loud music. Your back is against his front as your sway and roll your body to the beat. One of his hands is nursing a drink, and the other is right where it should be, on you.

"I won 6k and have a cute guy buying me drinks and dancing with me. What do you think?" You giggle, turning in his arms to face him instead. The drinks stop you from overthinking and let you wrap your arms around his neck. Faces close. You want to kiss him so bad you're not drunk enough, though, and it's not the way you'd like to do it, either.

"Just making sure," he smiles down at you, hand on your lower back.

The night is long, yet with Han, it goes by so fast. Sooner than you'd prefer, he walks you to your car, no longer holding onto your waist but your hand. There are only a few stragglers left behind who refuse to acknowledge the night is over. You and Han are two of them.

Reaching your white and red, modified skyline Han opens the door for you. With one arm propped against the open door and the other extended onto the roof, Han cages you against your car. Before you get in, you turn to face him, finding the bravery to do something you've been thinking about all night.

"Thanks for tonight, Han. I had fun," you say softly, suddenly feeling shy.

"Anytime, Angel," he responds smoothly, brushing his fingers on your naked shoulder. The jacket you wore earlier was discarded somewhere in the bar. An excuse for Han to see you outside the races.

"Well, goodnight." Gathering every particle of bravery, you stand on your toes and peck his lips softly.

It's only a tiny, innocent kiss, yet it makes Han close his eyes. It happens too quickly for his liking. You have been growing bolder, bold enough to kiss him. He needs to step up his game.

Taking advantage of his distracted state, you close your car door and rev the engine. On the drive to your apartment, you squeal in excitement. Fingers ghost over your lips, replaying the small kiss over and over again.

Another chance at a race becomes available only days after your win. Men love to challenge women, especially those who are winning, much like you are.

They hate seeing you be successful, but it doesn't bother you in the least. It's another opportunity to win cash or a car, which you can use for parts and sell what you don't need.

As you roll up to the starting line, Han approaches your window, leaning down to duck his head in.

"Come to give me a good luck kiss?" You speak playfully, lips turned up into a smile.

You two haven't talked about what happened at the club and have continued to act as you usually do. He's been more touchy with you, though, often trying to find a way to be close to you. Being the lovestruck fool you are, you've encouraged it, finding those ways to let him be close.

"We both know you don't need luck. You've got this in the bag, Angel." Han speaks encouragingly, "Tell you what, though. You win, and it's yours."

"Making me earn it, I see," you laugh, shaking your head. "Alright, you've got a deal. See you on the other side."

Han is confident you'll win. With a last reassuring tap on your door, he steps back, finding his place in the crowd.

Your opponent finally drives up to the starting line, sending you an unnecessary nasty look you laugh at. The flag girl stands between the two cars, her dress leaving nothing to the imagination. You respect it. They are a lot more confident than you are in that department.

You are off when the word 'go' falls from her lips. You knew this track by heart, having raced it so many times. You knew exactly when to hit the gas and when to press the brake to get the car to swerve. Han's full attention is on your race, and when your car disappears to another level, he takes the elevator up to the top floor, where the finish line is. Watching you race is interesting. You always come up with ways to confuse your opponents.

With a bag of chips, he anxiously waits for your victory. Regardless of your ability to race and win, your races make him nervous. He cares about you, and so many things can go wrong.

The noisy crowd gets louder as the sound of tires screeching gets closer. In seconds, your car swerves onto the top floor, again marking you as the victor. There's not a scratch or bump in your car. Your opponent arrives shortly after with dents and long scratches in his paint.

The crowd cheers loudly for you, coming up to you to congratulate you and tell you how cool you looked. Your opponent comes up to you and hands you his keys with a scowl. You shrug it off. A deal is a deal.

Winning leaves you on a high, a feeling of invincibility wrapping around you. You've learned to control it because that feeling caused a big loss years ago. You get distracted by the people around you and forget Han's promise. It's funny because it was the only thing running through your head while you raced.

"Good job out there," Han says, catching up to you later in the night once the hype died down.

"Why, thank you!" You chirp, closing the hood of your car and leaning back to sit on it.

"I believe I made a promise," Han mentions, stepping close to you until you're face to face, only a few inches between the two of you. "You did," you nod, biting your lip.

Han notices this, bringing a hand up to cup your face, his thumb tugging your lip loose from the tight hold of your teeth. The other wraps around your waist, pulling you close. You slide on the warm metal of your car, placing a hand on his chest to brace yourself as Han settles between your legs.

"I'm a man of my word," he whispers, finally leaning down to press his eager lips against yours. Han is greedy for many things, and your lips are one of them. Ever since that night at the club, he's wanted to smash his lips against yours, to feel you close, taste you.

Your eyes instantly flutter close, fisting Han's shirt in your hand as if afraid he'll pull away too quickly. The kiss starts slowly as you both test the waters, but it soon becomes not enough. Han tilts his head, deepening the kiss.

It's an electric shock that consumes him and doesn't let him go. This is the result of Han holding himself back, and you made it worse when you gave him a taste the other night.

Han slips a hand under your shirt, feeling the warmth of your skin. You gasp against his lips, arching your back as his cold fingers catch you by surprise. It serves as an opportunity for Han, his tongue pushing past your pouty lips, savoring the moment.

You gave into him, offering everything you have in exchange for this moment. His warmth wraps around you, burning you from the inside out. The need to breathe makes itself present too soon and becomes far more demanding than the need for each other's lips.

Han pulls away, your bottom lip between his teeth. You're breathless, as if you ran a marathon. You feel lightheaded, intoxicated by Han, who continues to peck your lips softly. He might be addicted already. The tips of his fingers draw soothing circles on your lower back, grounding you in the moment.

"So this is what winning feels like," you breathe out, smoothing Han's shirt with your palms. A futile way to hide their shakiness.

Han laughs, pressing his face against your neck and leaving a fleeting kiss behind. "Appears so, Angel."

A perk of being Han's friend is using his garage whenever you want. The days of paying for a spot to fix your car in a stranger's garage are far in the past. At the moment, you've spent the most part of the afternoon upgrading your car. The car you won on your last race sits beside yours with the hood popped open as you switched around pieces. He had quality parts, and his driving still sucked.

Twinkie, Earl, and the others are scattered around the large garage, working on different things and chattering. You had purposefully picked a spot away from them so you wouldn't get distracted. With work, your time is limited.

Han is on the second floor, leaning against the railing and pretending to watch the first floor and what they are doing. In reality, he is watching you closely.

You're bent over the hood of the car, working on unscrewing a tight bolt, cursing at the man who installed it initially. It's a sight straight out of his dreams. Your Nike sweatpants hung low on your hips, framing your ass perfectly. If he focused, he'd see the dimples on your lower back. His mind ran wild at the thought of pressing his thumbs against them while taking you from behind.

It's been a while since he's slept around. He cut himself off when he realized his feelings for you. What was the point of sleeping around if he wouldn't be satisfied? Those girls weren't you. They were temporary relief. Now, his pants tighten at anything you do. It's like he's seventeen again and unable to keep it in his pants.

He followed the curve of your ass to your arched back and the cropped shirt you wore. The matching crew neck sweater you arrived in is discarded in your car due to the heat. The revealing shirt rose with each of your movements, revealing the band of your baby blue bra. You tug on it for the millionth time today, annoyed.

The strands of hair you curled to frame your face stick uncomfortably to your sweaty forehead. You regret not putting them back into the two braids that fell over your shoulders.

Han needed to rip his eyes away from you before the others noticed. He's been staring for too long, fantasizing about everything he could do to you. To Han, you looked even more beautiful than you did that night with your sparkly dress and makeup. A woman who knows her way around a car is instantly a hundred times more attractive in his eyes.

As he accidentally visualizes you taking his cock from that same exact position, car included, you groan and straighten up. "I need help," you whine to no one in particular. The bolt is not budging, no matter how hard you try.

Han snaps out of his fantasy and springs into action, quickly appearing by your side. You've bent over again, wrench in hand, to give it one more try before giving up. He leans beside you, a hand on your lower back for faux support.

"What's the matter, Angel?" He says softly, one hand propping him up as he looks at the machinery under the hood. It's better if he helps you. He can't continue listening to your whines and groans.

"I need to unscrew those," you point at the bolts giving you a hard time.

Han asks for the wrench in your hands, and you place it in his hand, annoyed. You don't need the help of a man to do this, but it's Han, so you'll take it. You watch him as he places the wrench around the bolt, his arm tenses, emphasizing his muscles hidden by the short-sleeved button-up he wore over a white wife-beater tank.

His hair fell around his eyes as he successfully unscrewed the bolts. Feminism died as you lustfully took in Han, biting your lip. 'What a man,' you thought. You would've instantly refused the help if he had been any other guy.

"There you go," Han says, handing you the wrench. When he spares you a glance, he laughs softly. Good to know he has the same effect you have on him.

"Whatever would I do without you," you purr, shooting him a mischievous smile, "You deserve a reward." That's what it has come to, silly excuses to kiss Han because you're just friends. Nothing more.

Han looks at your lips briefly before snapping back to your eyes. You grin at him, leaning closer to kiss him for his 'hard work.' You know that he's been watching you all this time; you saw it from the reflective surface of the toolbox. Seeing his quickness to help you makes you believe he enjoyed the show.

Your lips brush teasingly against his, and just before Han can grab the back of your neck to stop the teasing, a loud bang tears through the room. Both you and Han pull away to see where the sound comes from, but Han bangs his head on the car's hood in the process.

"What the hell was that?" Han yells, rubbing the back of his head. He's annoyed that he's been interrupted.

"Sorry! The motor I was working on fell!" Earl exclaims from the other side of the garage, unaware of the daggers Han is throwing him.

"Best I get back to work," you quietly say with a chuckle, taking the piece you needed out of the car to bring it to yours.

"Yeah," Han says simply, reluctantly leaving to do his own thing.

Each and everyone that's in Han's garage returns to their business after the noisy interruption. Twinkie turns on a radio, blasting music to drown out the silence and clanking of tools. You work without interruption for the next three hours, giving your car all the love it deserves.

You clean your hands free of the motor oil and grease and search for Han. Your work for today was done. Now that you took anything valuable from the car you won, you had to sell it. You figured Han could do that for you.

"Hey, are you busy?" You ask him, seeing him working on a part by his desk.

"Nah, what's up, Angel?" He questions, dropping the screwdriver in his hand to focus all his attention on you.

Leaning on the desk casually, you begin speaking, "After I replace the bumper and give it a new paint job, can you sell that car for me?"

"Shouldn't be a problem," glancing at the car, Han agrees. It's a popular car in the racing world, and as soon as he gets the word out he's selling it, many offers will pop up.

"You're the best, Han!" You beam at him, pushing yourself off the desk to return downstairs.

"Angel, wait," he calls after you. Being your friend has been fun, yet he needs more. You shouldn't have to come up with excuses to kiss him; you should be able to do it freely whenever you want.

"Yes, Han," you ask softly, tilting your head in question.

Standing up from the rolling chair, he approaches you, "Do you want to go on a date?"

A grin sneaks past your lips before you even process what he said. Instantly, you nod your head, "I'd love to." You could combust at that moment. Finally, after months of pining, Han asked you out.

"Let's go," he smiles, grabbing your hand and guiding you to his car.

"Wait, now?" You furrow your eyebrows.

"Yes, unless you have something more important," he asks, teasing you.

"Nothing is more important, but I'm a mess," you shake your head hesitantly. You spent your afternoon working on cars, sweating, and getting covered in grease. You didn't think it would be in sweatpants when you pictured going on a date. Not to mention the state of your hair.

"No, you're not. If you must know, you've had me distracted all day," Han whispers the last part in your ear, trying to convince you even if it means giving himself away.

"Am I supposed to apologize?" You question, the corner of your lip curving into a sultry smile. You had been right all along.

"No, just agree to the date. Be spontaneous," Han bounces his eyebrows cutely.

"Let's do it," you sigh, hoping you won't regret it.

"Atta girl," Han smiles victoriously.

Han tries to remember the last time he had a proper date. Even with his ex, they just sort of happened. No date ever officially branded as such. It's why rather than asking you and waiting for the day to arrive, he decided to do it spontaneously. It leaves him no time to be nervous or to overthink things.

You slide your sweatshirt back on on the way out to shield yourself from the chilly Japanese night. Han opens the door to his car for you, shutting the door when you slip in. The drive is short as he takes you to a small family-owned sushi place he swears by.

"I'm surprised you eat more than chips and crackers," you joke with him as the food arrives, and he takes a bite.

"I definitely eat more than that," Han replies nonchalantly, referring to something else entirely. It's something you don't catch despite your dirty mind.

A discussion develops when you discover Han always orders the same thing in the restaurant. He's in Japan. He needs to throw himself into the culture and try new things.

Starting easy, you grab a piece of sushi from your plate, "You need to try this."

"I don't know," Han grimaces as he looks at the sushi held in your chopsticks.

"That's not an answer. Open your mouth," you groan, gently placing the sushi roll in his mouth.

You watch him chew slowly, getting a feel for the new food. "It's good," he agrees, liking whatever you had ordered. It was delicious, actually.

"Better than yours, right?" You ask him, knowingly, pointing your chopsticks at him.

"Yes," he rolls his eyes, refusing to give you the satisfaction.

"Told you," you sing, grabbing both plates and placing them in the middle of the table. Now you could each grab from both and share your meals.

The date goes smoothly. It's a wonder why the two of you hadn't gone to dinner before today. You already know Han is attentive and funny but his wisdom surprises you. He's already lived through so much, more than an average person. Despite being a couple years older than you, he retains his youth. That may be why he appeals to a younger crowd as well.

"What was your life like growing up?" You ask him, taking a drink from your Coke. Han ordered another plate of sushi to share, the one you chose earlier.

"My upbringing wasn't the best," he shrugs, remembering his life in California as a teen. "I was always in trouble."

"Why does something tell me that you were the one causing the trouble," you say, narrowing your eyes.

"I definitely was," he chuckles, "But in the end, it brought me here, and I'm happy."

Han believes in the timing of life. He's been after Tokyo for so long. Before stepping foot in Tokyo, he had to go through the Dominican Republic, Rio, Germany, Shanghai, London, and many more places. It was supposed to happen that way, or he wouldn't have met you.

"I knew it," you sigh dramatically, "I've always been into bad boys."

"What about you, Angel?" He returns the question, curious about your past.

"I grew up in a normal Japanese family. My dad's a mechanic, my mom a nurse, and my sister a pain in the ass. I went to school for engineering and graduated with top honors," you tell him, reminiscing on your not-as-impressive past.

"You say that as if it's easy to graduate with top honors," Han chides you, to which you roll your eyes. "Why work retail? Doesn't engineering make you a lot more money?"

"Don't laugh, okay?" You point at Han. When he agrees not to laugh, you continue, "I wanted to be a Formula 1 racer when I was younger. My dad signed me up to participate in smaller competitions, and I was pretty damn good. My mom was totally against it and forced my dad and me to quit.

Fast forward, I'm in college, and engineering seemed like the way to go. Learned about street racing and figured that could be a way back into my dream. It's a foolish thought. The professionals spend years in proper circuits practicing and competing. No one comes with a background of illegal racing."

Han wasn't expecting that answer. He assumed you hated engineering and did it to appease your parents. He wonders why you thought he would laugh. Your dream is nothing to laugh at. Having witnessed your racing, you undoubtedly had the innate talent. "So retail?" He prompts, realizing you didn't answer the first question.

Snapping your fingers, you say, "Right! I figured I'd always have my degree. I'd rather spend my time having fun now; when the time comes, I'll return to that. I do like it, but I'm not ready to commit to a life of 9 to 5's. I prefer spending my time in the wee hours of the night racing. Since I can't be a Formula 1 racer, I'll be a street racer. Much cooler, anyways."

"That takes guts," Han tells you, "I'm glad you're doing it."

You give him a little shrug and a smile because you were too. Despite your childish dream dying when your mom forced you to quit, you're still happy with your life. Especially if you end up with a guy like Han.

Han, being a gentleman, pays for dinner. Before returning to the car, you stop by a convenience store for dessert. Han follows you buying snacks for himself. In search of something sweet, you find a shelf filled with Pocky. You grab the chocolate-covered ones with a plan in mind.

You and Han sit at a table outside the convenience store. It was getting late, so only a few people were around. You open the packet of Pocky, taking out a chocolate-covered stick.

"Have you ever played the Pocky game?" You ask, taking a bite of the treat.

"No. What is it?" Han looks at you curiously.

"Essentially, you grab one end of the Pocky stick, and I grab the other. We have to eat it, but if one of us pulls away, they lose," you respond simply, hiding the game's purpose.

"That sounds awfully like Lady and the Tramp," Han mentions, catching onto your intentions.

Offering him a stick, you say, "Want to play?"

Han smiles at you and grabs the Pocky stick placing the biscuit end between his teeth. You hold the chocolate-covered end and tap his hand to start. You both take it slow, Han opting to stay still as you near his lips. You tilt your head when you're close to his lips, giving him the perfect opportunity to kiss you when only a small piece is left.

You smile into the chocolate-flavored kiss. If you wanted to kiss Han, you could've done it without so many sneaky plans or excuses, but it wouldn't be as fun.

"So, who won?" Han asks when you pull away.

"Does it matter?" You cheekily say, pulling him back in for another kiss.

There's no flaw in your reasoning. Han pulls you close, lifting your legs to lie in his lap. You spend more time than you care to admit making out outside the convenience store.

Han offers to drive you to your apartment since your car needs to be finished. Throughout the drive, his hand is laced with yours in your lap. Small talk flows between you as you continue to learn about each other.

Smoke coming from your apartment building cuts that conversation short. Firefighters stand outside the building, spraying water into the source of the fire. Han steps out of the car with you to ask anyone what is going on.

Noticing the building manager across the street, you approach him. He quickly blurts out all the information he knows. You're one of many of the tenants to approach him. "There's a fire on the sixth floor. We don't know the damage yet. I understand this is your residence, but you need somewhere else to say for the next few days while we asses the damage and inspect the building."

"What am I going to do?" You groan, covering your face with your hands. You worry about where you'll stay and your stuff in your apartment. You have important documents in there.

"You can stay with me," Han offers without a hint of hesitation.

"Are you sure? I don't want to impose." It's nice of Han to offer you a place to stay, but would it be too much at this stage of their situationship. Last thing you want is to push boundaries.

"You're not imposing. Let me help you," Han insists, grabbing your hand to rub soothing circles in it. It's a given he has feelings for you, but before that, you are his friend, and he's not going to leave you out on the streets or sleeping in your car.

Han offers you calming words on the way to his apartment. Your apartment is on the twelfth floor and the other side of the fire. Chances are that your stuff will probably be fine. Whether the building will close for renovations is another matter entirely.

His apartment is just another level to the building he owns. Its entrance is on a more private side. Inside, it's very clean and organized, a surprise since you expect most guys to be messy. Picture frames and knick knacks are scattered throughout the space, giving you more of a glimpse into Han's life.

It's quiet between the two of you but comfortable. Han is giving you time to process what you saw in your building. He offers you his shower if you'd like, and when you brought up you didn't have any clothes, he searched for a clean t-shirt and sweatpants you could borrow from him.

A shower is just what you need as you let the water cascade down your body. Fire aside, it has been a great day, even before Han asked you on a date. Hope fills your being at the prospect of soon beginning a relationship with Han. So far, everything points out it can happen. There haven't been any red flags or hesitation from him.

You change into the oversized t-shirt Han picked out for you and the spare pair of underwear you always carry in your bag. Smart girls know to carry a spare in case of emergencies. You debate about wearing the sweatpants he left for you but choose against it. The t-shirt covers enough.

You shyly make your way out of the bathroom in search of Han. You find him in the bedroom, grabbing an extra pillow and blanket. "The bed is yours," he mentions, eyes briefly trailing your naked legs.

"Where will you sleep?" You ask, furrowing your eyebrows. If anyone has to sleep on the couch, it should be you.

"I'll take the couch," he responds, as you expected.

"Han, stop being a gentleman and get in bed with me," you say, taking the pillow from his grasp and placing it back on the top of the bed.

He offers you an 'Are you sure?' look, and you nod confidently. He doesn't need to be told twice. Han steps out of the bedroom for a few minutes and grabs a shower. Taking that time, you get on the bed to get comfortable, it's soft, and you sink into it.

You're snoozing off when he returns to the room. Han carefully peels back the sheets and gets under them. Feeling the bed dip, you turn to the side to face him.

Your sleepy mood makes you cuddle up to him without much thought. The smell of his soap invades your senses. Han naturally accepts it, throwing an arm around your waist and hugging you closer, legs intertwined. He kisses the top of your head, finding comfort in the position.

Thankful doesn't begin to cover how you feel. There's this overwhelming sense of security that comes with Han. There is something about him that makes you trust him. Deep down, you know he wouldn't intentionally hurt you.

"How are you feeling?" Han checks up on you before you fall asleep.

"I'm okay. I hope none of my things got damaged," you mumble into his chest, pressing a kiss into it afterward. "Thank you for everything, Han. Your help with the car, the date, letting me invade your bed," you finish with a soft laugh.

"Anytime, Angel," he responds truthfully. If he can help you in any way, he will. Sleep consumes both quickly after, and it becomes the best night you've both had in a while.

The following day you're the first to wake. Han's arms are around your waist, and you feel his breath tickle the back of your neck. He's warm, and you just want to sink into it even more. Your need to pee pries you out of his embrace, though. 

As carefully as possible, you slip out of his loose grasp and head to the bathroom. Han had picked out a toothbrush for you the night before, which you're thankful for. Shuffling out of the bathroom, you cook breakfast for Han as a 'thank you' for his hospitality.

You pick the ingredients you need from his fridge, careful not to make too much noise. Your progress is slower than you prefer as you get used to the kitchen layout and localize everything you might need.

Soon enough, you drop pancake batter into the pan, and while that cooks, you scramble eggs with veggies. Since it's his kitchen, you assume he'll like what you make. It's his ingredients, after all.

Just after finishing the last batch of pancakes, you hear the patter of Han's feet entering the kitchen. You turn to glance at him quickly and greet him, "Good morning! I made you breakfast, sit!"

"You didn't have to do that," Han says, coming up behind you. He traps you between his body and the stove as if having you close last night wasn't enough.

"Yes, I did! You let me stay here, borrow clothes, sleep in your bed," you flip the pancakes as you count all the nice things he's done in less than 24 hours.

Humming, unconvinced, Han kisses your cheek and thanks you. It sends a tingle between your legs as his voice is raspy and deep from sleep. Your cheeks flare up, betraying you as always.

Han follows your orders and sits by the kitchen table, waiting till you're done to begin eating. With that time in his hands, he observes you. You're wearing the t-shirt he loaned you, which swallowed your frame. Each time you flipped a pancake, it rose slightly to reveal the light green fabric of your panties. Han soaked the sight in and wondered if this was what waited for him in the near future.

His eyes continue trailing down to your thick thighs. He wouldn't mind being trapped between them. Lower and lower, his gaze went from your pretty legs to your varnished toes. Back up, it went as you turned off the stove and approached the table. You weren't wearing a bra under the t-shirt, as your nipples poked through the thin fabric.

Han's glad he didn't notice these things last night, or he wouldn't have been able to sleep a wink. Spreading his legs, he tried to hide the hard-on he was sporting. None the wiser, you sit on the empty chair near him and tell him to eat up.

Shooing the dirty thoughts from his mind, Han thanks you one more time and digs in. It's a lovely morning, with light chatter bouncing between you. Han praises your cooking every chance he gets and even finishes the pancakes you left over but not before drenching them in more syrup. When both of you are done, you clear the plates and place them in the sink to wash.

"Angel, come 'ere," Han calls from behind you.

Mindlessly you walk over to him, wondering what he wants. Han grabs your waist, pulling you to his lap. "Han, what are you doing? I have to do the dishes!" You squeal, holding onto him, afraid he'd let you fall.

"No, you don't," he speaks softly, one hand cupping your cheek.

"I don't?" you prompt, leaning into his touch.

"Let me properly thank you," he offers, lips chasing yours. Han can't contain himself any longer. You've done a number on him, strutting around his kitchen in your underwear. He wants you. He needs you.

You lean into the kiss as you always do, pouring everything you have into it. Tasting the coffee on his tongue, you bring your hand around the back of his neck, softly tugging the long strands of hair. Han groans into the kiss, having missed that sensation.

Repositioning yourself, you straddle Han in the rickety kitchen chair. You feel his hands all over your body, trailing down your back to grasp your ass in his palms. Every so often, you'd resurface to breathe but dip down again and again to continue kissing him.

Han feels himself harden as you rub your center against him deliciously. It's clear as day you want him just as much as he wants you.

"Want to spoil me and fuck me?" You breathe heavily, kissing Han's neck.

"So bold," Han chuckles, his hands wandering under the t-shirt to feel your warm skin, his nails faintly scratching your back, sending shivers down your spine. "Six months ago, you would've been too scared to ask me that."

Six months ago, you would've been too scared to kiss him on the cheek, but you've come a long way. As time passes, you realize your feelings are not one-sided because Han means every word he speaks to you despite his taunting nature. Each and every complement is honest.

"I got tired of waiting around for you," you bite back, nipping his neck and sucking a pretty bruise on it.

Han hisses at the momentary sting, "I thought I was just a friend?"

You laugh sarcastically, picking your head up to stare at him, "I don't let friends kiss me or grope my ass."

"What does that make me then?" Han raises an eyebrow, cheekily squeezing your ass as a smirk forms on his lips.

"Special," you shrug, lips pouty and swollen.

"Because?" He wants to hear you say that you feel something for him. It's a last hurrah on giving you a hard time for fun.

You realize it's time to be honest and come out with it. You stopped hiding your feelings a while ago. Hell, you even asked Han to fuck you. All that's left is to admit your feeling out loud. "Because I have feelings for you, Han Lue," you whisper, brushing the hair that threatens to fall over his eyes.

"That's all you had to say," Han murmurs, catching your lips in a passionate kiss.

The heat rises with each passing moment. Your feelings have now come to a boil and bubbled over. Han picks you up easily and sits you on the kitchen table. He leaves his touch on your naked back to trace the outside of your thighs. It's time to give you precisely what you asked for and what he has been fantasizing about for far too long.

Grabbing the elastic band of your panties, Han slides them down the curve of your ass and your thighs until they are off. He throws them somewhere in the room, the information unimportant for now.

"Han, please," you whine, spreading your legs wider and giving him access to your most private part. You beg between kisses to feel his touch where you need it most.

"So impatient, Angel." Han jabs lightly as his right-hand touches the inside of your thigh. The pads of his fingers brush over your thighs repeatedly, nearing the apex more and more with each stroke.

You gasp as he finally dips a finger into your folds, gathering the slick that formed to spread it around your bundle of nerves. You gasp, breaking the kiss and throwing your head back.

Han sucks on your neck and collarbones as you moan into the air. Slipping a finger into your tight walls, he groans, thinking about how they'll feel around his hard cock.

"Fuck, Han, feels so good," you sigh when Han adds another digit into your soaking core and presses on your clit with his thumb.

"I didn't realize I made you this wet," he says into your neck as you grind your hips into his hand. You must've been wanting this for as long as he has.

"Liar," you respond, staring at him with hooded eyes. The nights you've touched yourself while thinking about him are many. The real thing is a million times better.

Han watches you intently, catching every little reaction you have to his touch. The moans and whines echo through the room and are music to his ears. Without a doubt, there's a wet patch in his boxers as his tip leaks precum from the erotic sight in front of him.

Your walls clenching around him alert him you're close, and promptly after you make it known as you beg him not to stop, except he doesn't listen and stops just as you're about to cum.

"Why did you stop?" You complain, eyes wide in desperate need.

"Want you to cum on my tongue," he responds, stealing a quick kiss before he kneels on the floor. Wrapping his strong arms around your thighs, he scoots you closer to the edge.

His words shoot another current down your legs, no doubt making more of a mess. You wait with bated breath as Han kisses the inside of your thighs, making eye contact with you as he delves into your pussy.

He licks up from your hole up to your clit. You grasp his hair with one hand, pulling the t-shirt up with the other to better look at him going down on you. Your eyes roll involuntarily when Han wraps his lips around your clit, sucking and flicking it with his tongue. His long fingers find your opening once more, sliding in effortlessly.

You try to maintain eye contact with Han through it all. If his hair fell on his eyes, you'd quickly brush it back, not wanting to miss his lustful gaze. It spurred Han on to see you crumbling over him, biting your lip as you tried to hide the pretty cries that wanted to fall from your lips.

Han stops licking your clit and slows his thrusting fingers each time you near your orgasm. Time and time again, he repeats this when you're near the edge. Only when your arousal coats his hand he keeps his pace, and as you whine out, 'gonna cum, don't stop,' he slips his tongue into your pussy, tasting your cum directly from the source.

He makes a great example of what his nose can do as it brushes over your clit while he tongue fucks you. You trap Han between your legs as your pussy clenches, your orgasm coming in waves. As you relax back onto the kitchen table, Han continues to lick your puffy center, being careful with your sensitive nub.

When he stands, you fist his t-shirt, smashing your lips together, tasting your essence. "Let's take this to the bedroom," Han pants. You nod eagerly and squeal when he picks you up, your legs wrapped around his waist.

You leave a trail of kisses on his neck as he makes his way to the bedroom. Once there, you both fall on the bed, Han hovering over you. He tugs on your t-shirt, "As much as I love seeing you in my clothes, this has to come off."

Without the shirt, he can admire your naked body. A lone finger slides down from your neck to your sternum. It slides to your side near the curve of your left breast, where a small sakura flower is tattooed.

"This is my new favorite thing about you," Han softly says, noticing you staring at him.

The tattoo was an impulsive thing to do. You had wanted a tattoo for years but never knew what to get. After your last breakup two years ago, you got the little flower instead of getting bangs and dying your hair. It has no real meaning to you. It's just a cute flower.

"You're the first to see it since I got it done," you tell him, a laugh bubbling from your lips as his touch on your ribs tickles.

"And I hope it stays that way," he responds. It's an unspoken promise. He wants you all to himself for the foreseeable future.

His finger continues the trajectory down your tummy, lightly going over your belly button before it traces over your mound and dips to touch your clit.

You gasp at the surge of pleasure as your clit remains sensitive from his previous actions. "Gotta say it's not fair that I'm the only one naked," you moan when Han continues to circle your nub.

"What are you gonna do about it?" Han incites you to see what you'll do.

Any remaining shyness you had is long gone as lust replaces it. You kneel in front of Han, who leans back to watch you. Your chest is close to his face, so when you lean closer to grab the hem of his shirt, he sucks one of your nipples. 

"Han," you whine, arching your back," "Stop distracting me."

Ignoring his mouth on you, you grab his shirt and pull it off. Successfully making him stop his attack on your breasts. You peck his lips and kiss down his jaw.

You take your time kissing his toned chest and stomach. You wish to memorize every part of him. "You're so handsome, Han," you purr, glancing up at him.

Those simple words that spilled from your mouth made his heart flutter. Han is used to being the one to dish out compliments and praise the women he's with. To have you say that is like a breath of fresh air, and he can't wait to have more.

"Fuck, Angel," he groans, grasping your chin. You kiss his palm with a smile that's equally angelic and devilish.

You want to peel two more layers off Han's body and decide to do it all at once. Grasping the band of his pants and boxers, you slowly pull them down, building anticipation.

His cock springs out of its confines, landing on Han's abdomen. You don't hide your curious gaze as you take in his cock. It's so big it makes you bite your lip in anticipation. The tip is a dark pink as it drips with precum.

After you remove his pants entirely, you grasp his cock, feeling the warmth and weight of it. Han breathes out through his nose, a futile attempt to keep his cool. A string of saliva drips from your lips, coating his hard length. Each stroke you made caused a bead of pre to spill from him.

You take it as an invitation to taste him, wrapping your lips around his head your tongue licks the beads of white. 

Han does the impossible not to push your head down to take all of him. The thought is present, though. You've barely teased him compared to how he teased you, but Han can no longer resist. 

"I need you," Han groans, calling out your name, not the nickname you've been donned for the past three years.

You don't take it for granted. Hearing your name sends you into overdrive. Han pulls you up to kiss you and lies you down on the top of the bed. He comfortably gets between your legs that hug his waist to bring him closer. His cock brushes your wet pussy, and you both hiss at the sensation. Your pussy clenches around nothing at the thought of having Han fill you entirely.

"You ready, Angel?" Han asks you. One arm holding him up and the other wrapped around your thigh, giving you a comforting squeeze. Time stops ticking at that moment. It's just you and Han wrapped in each other. 

"I've been ready for the past month, Han. Fuck me, please," you plead quietly, your fingertips running up and down his back. 

"Just because you said, please." Han lines his cock up to your entrance and pushes past your lips into your warm center. Relief floods through the both of you, but it soon dissipates, and it's replaced by waves of unfiltered lust.

Han starts fucking into you deep, at the perfect pace. Your eyes involuntarily close as you feel Han's cock stretching you open and filling you like never before. Han kisses your temple and releases sexy moans into your ear with words of encouragement.

'Such a tight pussy just for me.'

'Taking me so good, Angel.'

'Can't get enough of you.'

You echo his words, encouraging him to keep fucking you. Your nails dig into his back as you try to hold on to anything, and your heels dig into his lower back. The closeness between you is intoxicating, your scents mixing and becoming one, his hair ticking your face, his warm skin heating up yours. 

Han slows the pace momentarily, leaning back on his knees to see your pretty cunt taking his cock. He wants to commit to memory how your pussy spreads to make way for his cock, a white ring on the base of his cock, and how your little clit is exposed and vulnerable to his touch.

The other girls he's slept with only got part of his attention and dedication. He didn't mean to make a huge impression. He only did his job, often choosing to lie back and let them do as they pleased with him. 

With you, it's different. He wants to give you his all and leave a great impression. He'll do all the work; you can just take it if that's what you want. That's the difference between you and the other girls. He lived to spoil you.

Meanwhile, you fall apart under him, moaning incoherent phrases he can barely make out. He loves hearing them, though. You reach for Han's hand as he increases his pace and grips it tightly.

Han slips his cock out of you, wanting to make his fantasy a reality. You shudder at the empty feeling and whine, "No, don't stop." 

"Come on, Angel. Get on your knees," Han coo's at you, kissing your pouty lips. "Promise you'll cum soon."

Han positions you on your knees, your back arched as your tits rub against the bed sheets. You huff through it all, desperate to have him pounding into you again. He smacks your ass when you wiggle it to get him to do what you want.

Han enters you in one smooth motion, this position amplifying your pleasure as he hits the spongy spot inside of you more directly.

"Han!" You cry out, fisting the sheets underneath you. 

"I'm right here, Angel," Han breathes, snapping his hips rhythmically. 

Just as he visualized, he grabs your hips in his large hands and digs his thumbs into the dimples on your back. With a tight hold, he thrusts into you unrelentingly, and you push back onto him just as eagerly. Your cries are muffled by the pillow you're hugging to your face.

Your pussy swallows him with each thrust, even as it clenches to prepare for orgasm. He can't hold back any longer as his balls clench with each faltering thrust, and your walls squeeze him tighter than ever.

" 'm cumming," you squeal, your legs tense up and shake. Your walls contract and release in a rhythmic motion that sends Han over the edge, your name on the tip of his tongue.

Han pulls out of you, helping you get back onto a comfortable position, and lies beside you, catching his breath. He turns to look at you, and you do the same. You can't hold his gaze long as you furiously blush.

Han laughs, grabbing your hand to lace your fingers together. "You can't get shy now!"

"I can't control it!" You exclaim, hiding your face with the same pillow as earlier. 

The rest of the day is spent in bed. Han ignores his daily responsibilities and stays in, getting lost in your touch and making promises he hopes to keep.

One Year and a Half Later...

You drive up to the empty parking complex. It's similar to the one you spend your nights on. Driving up the floors, you find Han where he told you he'd be. He leans against the familiar orange car, a bag of chips in his hands. A nice lather jacket covers his arms, making you smile when you remember how he got it in the first place.

"Hey, you wanted to meet me here?" You question, getting out of your car.

Approaching him, you kiss his salty lips and wait for an explanation regarding the random meet-up spot. In the entire year and a half of you dating, he's never asked you such a weird request.

"You feeling up to race?" Han asks you, holding your hand in his.

It's been years since the two of you met, and for the same amount of time, people have been pining you two to race. He denied every request, including the ones you threw every once in a while.

"It's about time," you exclaim, excitement filling your body. "What's at stake?"

There is something up Han's sleeve. You know that much. There is something he wants from you if he suddenly wants to race you. He could just ask. You'll give him everything he desires. You play along, though.

"Winner gets the other's car," he offers, pushing himself off the car to wrap his arms around you to hug you, his thumb soothingly brushing over the spot where your tattoo is. He last saw you when you left for your new engineering job early in the morning.

"You're willing to sacrifice your car?" You chuckle, implying you are going to win.

"It's only fair," he shrugs, kissing your cheek.

With one last peck, he lets you go and gets in his car. You follow his lead, lining up your car to the imaginary starting line. Han sets up a timer, and once it went off, both cars lurched forward at high speeds. 

You focus on the race, forgetting it's Han you're competing with. You've been dying to go against him for so long, desperate to find out who was the better racer between the two. 

As expected, Han makes it hard for you. The race is neck and neck as you drift up the floors of the building. Whenever Han takes the lead, you find a way to get ahead. You see the end near, and Han threatens to surpass you, but with one last boost, you keep your position, winning the race.

You leap out of your car, feeling the high of the race. No one has kept you on your toes for so long. It's a satisfying win. Han walks out of his car more calmly, smiling, happy to see you celebrate. It didn't matter to him that you were better. You deserved it.

"I can't believe I won," you exclaim, jumping into his arms as he spins you around.

"I can, and I'm so proud," Han says, kissing all over your face.

The race's prize is forgotten as you celebrate, but Han reminds you by handing you his keys, "A deal is a deal." You take the keys from him as a mere formality. You're not taking Han's precious car. Racing him is enough for you.

The weight of the keys is strange to you. They tend to be much heavier. Opening your palm to inspect them, you see that his keychains and spare keys are missing. In their place is a diamond ring.

"Han, what-" you stutter, whipping up to look at him.

"My car is yours. I figured I could be yours too. Will you marry me?" Han takes the keys from you, getting down on one knee and removing the ring from the holder. 

From all the possible scenarios you had in mind from this clandestine meeting, Han's proposal was not one of them. Nevertheless, you have your answer instantly.

"Yes," you nod, choking back a sob.

Han grabs your hand and slides the ring onto your fourth finger. It's a perfect fit, just like Han. You drop down in front of Han, ignoring the dirty floor, to kiss and hug him.

Han kisses away your tears, a smile permanently etched on his face. He never thought he'd see the day he would settle down, but this past year has been near perfection with you, and he doesn't see himself with anyone else.

"Did you let me win to set this up?" You ask him later that night. His arms are wrapped tightly around you as you lie on his chest.

"No," he answers simply, kissing your head.

"You let me win," you then say assertively.

"No, I did not, Angel," he answers again, hiding his smile in your hair.

"I don't believe you. We have to race again," you tell him, lifting your head to glance at him.

"I don't have a reason to. I've got everything I want right here. Take the win, Angel," Han tells you sweetly, his fingers playing with your ring.

"For now," you huff, settling back down and cuddling up to him.

Fin. 

thank you for reading! i didn't mean for it to be this long although i'm sure you guys are not complaining!

this was so much fun to write. guys like i am in love with han lue, i've spent hours on tiktok watching han lue and sung kang edits. i need help! tell me i'm not the only one like this!

requests are still open ❤️

[firewasabeast]

Bucktommy prompt idea for you:

Tommy going to Bobby, NOT to ask for his blessing on proposing to Buck, but thinking that Bobby will talk him out of it as it's too soon (Tommy needs someone to be rational with him and he thinks Bobby is levelheaded, especially when it comes to Buck).

He's unaware that Bobby and Athena basically speedran their way down the aisle, and Bobby gives him his blessing AND practically helps him plan the proposal/wedding instead.

This was ridiculous.

They'd only been together for four months.

Sure, Tommy could easily say they had been the best four months of his life, but still... four months.

You don't buy a ring for someone after only four months.

At least Tommy didn't. He wasn't that type. He was levelheaded, thought things through.

Even when he flew that helicopter straight through a hurricane, he thought that through. Knew he could do it. Knew to trust Howie and Hen and their instincts.

But this was all on him.

He was standing outside of a jewelry store, ring in one hand, receipt in the other, wondering what the hell just happened to him? Was he drugged? Possessed? What would possibly make him think this was a wise option? Why could he already envision Buck standing across from him in front of a room full of people as they spoke their vows to one another?

Tommy stuffed the ring and the receipt into his pockets. He practically marched to his car. There was only one person he could think to go to. One person who could talk some sense into him.

*****

“That's amazing, Tommy!” Bobby exclaimed, pulling Tommy in for a hug.

This was... not what he expected.

“Amazing?” he questioned once Bobby pulled back. “Bobby, it's insane.”

“What's insane about it?”

“We've only been together four months. He moved in a week ago, and we both joked about how crazy that even was.”

“And how's that week been?” Bobby asked, leading them over to the couch.

“It's... It's been great. Fantastic, really, but it's new. It'll wear off.”

“Doesn't have to.”

“Bobby, I- I thought I'd be coming here today for you to talk me out of this, not for me to talk me out of it while you talk me into it.”

Bobby smiled. “You love him?” he asked.

“Of course.”

“He loves you?”

“Yeah, he does,” Tommy replied, softer as he thought about the many times they'd said those words to each other over the last three months.

“You like spending time together?”

“We haven't spent a night apart since we started dating, work excluded.”

“You see a future with him?”

Tommy nodded. “We both want kids. He's gonna be such a great dad, too. He doubts himself sometimes, but I don't doubt him. We'd have to buy a bigger place someday, but we've got enough space for three where we are now.” Tommy's eyes were focused off in the distance, like he was imagining their whole lives together. “I haven't traveled much, outside of my time in the army, but we've made plans to do a roadtrip so he can show me all the places he's been. And he's so smart. He knows something about everything and I love that because he's always right. I don't even have to double check.” He stopped abruptly when he realized he was rambling. That's what got him into this mess in the first place. He got to thinking about Evan, and then he couldn't stop thinking about Evan, and then he was driving to a jewelry store.

Bobby shrugged. “I don't see a problem here, Tommy. Athena and I got engaged in less than a year, and I couldn't imagine it any other way.” He reached out, giving Tommy a pat on the leg. “You're a good guy, Tommy. Buck is just as much in this relationship as you are, believe me. You ask, he'll say yes.”

Somehow a wave of relief, along with a surge of anxiety, washed over Tommy at the same time. “Are you sure?”

“I'm sure.”

*****

Tommy stayed a bit longer, catching up with Bobby and discussing what plans he had for a proposal. When it was time to leave, Bobby walked him to the door. He reached for a handshake that turned into a hug.

“Thanks, Bobby,” Tommy said with a final pat on the back before he headed out.

“Anytime, kid. Hey, you have Buck call me after he says yes!”

Tommy smiled, giving Bobby a final wave before he got into his car.

Bobby wasn't surprised when his phone began to ring a few hours later, Buck's name lighting up the screen.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE 🫵 EEL BUTLER AND LION SIMP. Now that we know how you feel about their new idol fits, can I ask how does your OC feel about them? iirc she’s not a sona or self insert so her thoughts might be different than yours.

[Referencing this post!]

First of all, I think it's just really funny to think about Crowley having his students wear school-sponsored/mandated idol outfits and sing on stage 🤡 The opening story to the Blazing Jewel event confirms that Crowley’s having them do a musical live for an acquaintance of his who was impressed by their VDC/SDC performance. "It's good for your futures!" he'll insist. "And good for attracting generous donations and sponsors!" "No more complaining from you boys! Get into those suits, slap on your makeup, and I'll see you out there on the bright, shining stage!" ☆～（ゝ。∂）(The boys all grumble about how much they hate this asdasvufvyofqevyefabi)

Assuming that's the situation, maybe poor Miss Raven is told to assist Professor Crewel with making sure the boys are complying (since they're usually argumentative) OTL so she's rushing around doing makeup, adjusting their outfits, etc. She apologizes to everyone along the way--after all, it's because of her uncle that they're being inconvenienced 💦

Of course, Miss Raven does think that everyone looks good, (she especially loves all the shiny bits on the outfits, how they catch the light and sparkle) but she's still plagued by the guilt of knowing most of them don't want to be here. Makes herself glance away or stare at the wall if she thinks she's been looking at someone for too long; she knows that's awkward and impolite. She has to stay professional!

Jade would find it all amusing--it's different than the usual everyday, so he welcomes the change in pace. He plays along, behaving like the perfect little angel (excluding some teasing).

"... You seem awfully pleased about this," Raven remarks as she fiddling with some chains. They've twisted, and she's beginning to suspect he purposefully knotted them to prolong the time she spends with him.

"Fufufu... Well, it does take me back to my middle school days. Floyd, Azul, and I used to play in a little jazz band of our own. The contrabass, in fact."

She quirks a brow. "You? In a band? That's... surprising. This isn't another one of your deceptions, is it?"

He laughs, and it sounds musical itself. "Is that really so difficult to believe? Music is considered a precious gift to merfolk. Being able to share a song with the world means more to me than you can possibly imagine."

"Oh, is it? That's interesting. I had no idea that music held such significance to your people. Many birds share a similar sentiment; songs and special calls may be used to find partners, so it has more of a romantic connotation."

"My, how... fascinating." His mismatches eyes glitter with mirth. "Perhaps we are more alike than I initially thought."

She sighs. "... Please do not get ahead of yourself and focus on the task at hand. This performance needs your undivided attention."

Jade leans in, his nose and hers almost touching, his smile razor-sharp. "Then I do hope you whole-heartedly accept my gift to you, Miss Raven."

Leona's the opposite; he's pissed off that he got woken up from his nap to do what is essentially a friggin' PR stunt to make the school and the headmaster look good. Bitches and moans the entire time.

"You aren't making this easier for anyone, Leona-san. Certainly not for yourself," Raven gently scolds him. He's fighting with the buttons of his dress shirt, which strain to contain him. "I understand that this is an annoyance, but please bear with it for the time being. It will go by that much faster if..."

The buttons finally give up and come free. His shirt spills open to the valley of his cleavage.

Raven frowns, raising a hand to shield her eyes out of respect. "I'm not sure that's appropriate for our purposes."

"You're soundin' an awful lot like Kifaji, Canary." Leona shoots her a scathing glare. She balks, her resolve wavering. "I gotta breathe, don't I? And 'sides, if it's publicity the headmaster's after, he'll get his damn publicity."

Raven raises a finger, but quickly lowers it and clamps her mouth shut. It's not worth it to argue with him. He's cooperating for now, just nod and move on. "... Very well, so long as you get approval from Professor Crewel before walking on stage, it should be fine."

She spins on her heel to head to the next student--but a commanding voice calls out, pinning her in place.

"Not so fast."

A shadow falls over her. Raven dares not move.

"The headmaster, Crewel. I don't care what either of 'm thinks--but what about you? I need the little assistant's approval too, don't I?" Leona steps into view, tugging on the lapels of his jacket. "I'll need ya to appraise me real carefully."

[reiniesainyo]

IN BETWEEN. charlie bushnell x reader – 03

03 | ENCHANTED previous | next | masterfile

SYNPOSIS. when a girl's co-star is good to her and now she wants it more than everything in between. (smau)

A/N. i'm going through a rough / stressful period and i find this series and writing it very therapeutic so here we are! this chapter takes place around episode 7 release, i'm not really inclined to write about the filming in between for some reason (unless you'd be interested)

liked by walker.scobell, thelnarchives, and 262,287 others rickriordan With the release of the new PJO series on Disney+, I'm happy to announce that to celebrate I've partnered with some of your favorite authors and close friends of mine to present to you all a new look into the lives of our favorite demigods!

WHAT IT MEANS TO BE A HALF-BLOOD will go online for free this February 20, 2024!

Click the link in bio for more info! PS: A sneak peak from our writers on the other slides

thelnarchive ... WHAT THE??? i have to manifest a chapter for my girl, manifesting a chapter or more please or even just one mention ↳ iamcharliebushnell YOU DIDN'T KNOW EITHER?????

user1 HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT????

user2 1) more stories about characters and 2) WRITTEN BY OTHER AUTHORS???? WHO COULD BE IN THIS PROJECT ↳ user3 i'm manifesting a story about tahlia and jason as kids oh my god

iamcharliebushnell imagine releasing a whole anthology to celebrate? that's the best author right there

user4 ohhh we're eating so good

walker.scobell another book and there's still not enough percy jackson in this world keep it coming i love your work ↳ aryansimhadri Imo too much percy maybe some more grover ↳ leahsavajeffries wrong there should be more annabeth

dior.n.goodjohn the gc going wild with this news

🃏 @CHILDOFHECATE what are your guys guesses for the stories in what it means to be a half-blood??? 🗨 32 comments 🔁 150 retweets ❤️ 456 likes

user1 a jason and tahlia story about them as kids, just a delve into their childhood

user2 more stuff on luke and rina, as individuals and as a couples- like i totally see a luke perspective on some situations or a conversation they had being in the book ↳ CHILDOFHECATE honestly i think it'd be so cool if they went like contemporary and also gave us maybe a poem or transcript / screenplay of a conversation between luke and rina

user3 stories about annabeth, tahlia, and luke's time before camp maybe fighting monsters together or just trying to survive ↳ user4 watch me cry over this one

user5 i just see a lot of delving into the lives of the original trio and also like the original supporting characters to like tahlia, luke, rina, even rachel

user6 grover's childhood! i really wanna see that or some parts of the story from his perspective

user7 Angst.

liked by iamcharliebushnell, aryansimhadri, and 320,372 others thelnarchives celebrating with the half-bloods

iamcharliebushnell when you're so excited over new lore you go and have dinner to talk about it ↳ thelnarchives this means so much to us

user1 YN IN THE SECOND SLIDE OH SHE'S GOREGOUS

user2 her face card never declines ↳ user3 it even has like benefits and a perfect credit score

dior.n.goodjohn fans first cast second ↳ thelnarchives this show has more more dressed up than my wedding

user4 this cast is so cute it's crazy

walker.scobell the 3rd pic >>> ↳ iamcharliebushnell oh so true ↳ i.am.andrew.alvarez a banger photo ↳ thelnarchives phone hijackers.

user5 the little black dress is doing so good for her, if i saw her in public i would've fainted ↳ user6 i can't believe i live in the same city as this girl like we breathe the same air???

leahsavajeffries i'm sat for the release, we're sat ↳ thelnarchives this is MY superbowl

aryansimhadri i feel excluded out of the 3rd photo ↳ thelnarchives that's okay because you're one of the girls ↳ iamcharliebushnell wait that's not fair

user7 aryan being part of the girls is so real and charlie wanting in is so cute

[ilovealonelystar]

10 reasons that made me BJYXSZD

Each video/scene I refer to is linked. Not necessarily in order of importance.

This WYB lovely eyes. OMG HE'S SUCH A CUTIE PIE! I obviously haven't watched ALL videos of WYB interacting with other people, but in the ones I watched, I've never seen, to this day, this look again.

2. This soft WYB "yeah". And this one too. Why was Yibo so cute and lovely that day?

3. XZ jealousy on Happy Camp hahaha SCARY GG.

4. They not moving or looking uncomfortable when they touch each other (excluding some specific times like that one interview when they accidentally brush their fingers and get so shy hahaha)

5. Obviously (almost) every turtle will say that WYB talking non-stop with XZ while everybody else in the world says he doesn't talk. But, besides that, on the behind-the-scenes footage you see that WYB talks a lot with the other cast members, the staff, etc, so this is even more important to me because I believe XZ helped WYB to feel validated and comfortable enough to step out of his shell around him and everybody else that summer.

6. This silly tiny little tidbit when WYB is (super excitedly) saying bye-bye to XZ and saying he'll see him tomorrow and the director makes that suspicious "hummmm....... uhuhuh" pointing his finger to him like when you're talking to your crush and your friend keeps teasing you.

7. I know they stare into each other eyes A LOT but there are some special scenes, like this one on the day of WYB bday when XZ sings Kepler (and WYB sings a tiny bit of Nan Hai)... the way they look at each other sends a shiver down my spine.

8. XZ gifting WYB a helmet on his bday. They are always hitting each other, screaming, poking, cursing, etc etc etc the whoooole time during the behind-the-scenes footage but the way GG talks here is so so so lovely. And WYB being a tiny lil' baby so excited and happy with his gift.

9. !!SKIP THIS ONE IF YOU'RE A "DEVIL'S TIMELINE" BELIEVER!! (maybe I'll skip it myself) Based on what they say, they never talked to each other before the script reading and WYB is always claiming he's a slow starter with strangers but... even at the script reading DD is already making jokes, laughing like a gremlin, GG touching DD's back... (is this slow? 😏) so I think they really hit if off with each other since day 01.

10. WYB never said (that I'm aware of) he thinks of XZ as a brother to him, always refers as a "good friend". I don't know if this one is a bit of a stretch, but I think it's ~at least~ odd how he never ever said XZ is like a brother to him due to their age gap, or the way they are so silly together, or even because XZ helped him a lot with his acting during TU shooting.

**Bonus: based on my own life experience (I met my husband 19 years ago due to our shared love for a specific hard rock band), I think it's so cute this ~kinda early~ behind-the-scenes part, when they are still a bit shy and awkward around each other, and WYB starts singing Hello Kitty by Avril Lavigne and XZ is like "wow! do you know this too?" and then they spend the rest of that shooting singing/humming some Avril's songs 🥺 I think their shared love for Avril Lavigne, Blackpink?, k-pop, and music in general, helped them bond a lot.

[i9messi]

Speak Now — Max Verstappen

You're Max’s best friend. When he announces he's gonna get married you can't believe it. Is it too late and inopportune to let him know you're in love with him?

Word count — 1,8k

a/n: happy ending!!

max’s masterlist

"I'm going to get married. She said yes."

The call seemed to end abruptly, but you knew very well that Max was on the other side of the line, waiting for your answer. A bittersweet taste had settled in your mouth and tears began to build up in your eyes, all as you thought of what response to give. A best friend would be happy for him, a best friend would just want to see him fulfill his dreams. However, things were complicated. You felt sad, broken and submerged in deep pain.

In your stupidest dreams, you’d hoped Max would finally notice you. You’d been there, you’d listened to him and advised him every time he fought with his girlfriend. You pretended to be happy when you saw them coming back. Max had gotten so used to your presence that you had become invisible to his eyes. You were just a friend to him.

In part, it was no surprise that Max had proposed to his partner. You had assumed that sooner or later the relationship was going to become much stronger. Still, you didn’t expect to do it so soon.

"Are you there?"

"Oh, yes, Max. I’m sorry." You swallowed saliva. "I’m happy for you."

When you closed your eyes, it didn’t seem right. Max didn’t have to marry her. It wasn’t the way it should have been.

Seven months later and after much anxiety on your part, it was finally the wedding day. You had hesitated to go, mainly because your invitation had rarely never arrived. Max wasn’t aware of the way the bride had excluded you, and you hadn’t told him either. Daniel was the one who insisted multiple times on going together. In his company you had reached the beautiful place where Max was going to get married, and your eyes connected with the rest of the guests. The bride’s family were dressed in pastel.

"When the priest says speak now or forever hold your peace you have to appear abruptly and say that he is your man. Wave me down a little early so I can get my cell phone and record it." Danny joked, although it wasn’t really being a total joke, a small part of him expected the ceremony to be canceled. You denied with your head.

"I’ll behave myself, it’s Max’s day."

Daniel let out a sigh.

"I’ll go get alcohol, we need it a lot."

As the Australian disappeared from your sight, you were left alone, looking everywhere. You could feel curious looks on you. Some of the bride’s friends looked at you with raised eyebrows, while whispering among them. Barely five minutes passed, when two of them decided to come over to talk to you.

"I didn’t know you were invited," said the first.

"If I remember correctly, the bride didn’t invite you."

To save you, Daniel returned to your side, with two glasses of some liquid. The girls came back with their friends' group and your friend offered you a drink.

"You need it more than I do."

You hadn’t seen Max yet and you wanted to cry. So you got the drink and tasted the alcohol in your lips. You were just gonna have a drink, you didn’t want to be a sad drunk that day. You’d save the tears for later, when you were in the privacy of your home.

"Why do I feel like I’m being practically kicked out of here? I know I wasn’t invited, but I don’t have to be treated like I broke in either."

"The thing is, it’s painful to see the person you love marry someone else. It’s obvious how you feel about Max and nobody expected you to actually decide to come here."

"He’s my best friend, as much as it hurts, I want to see him happy."

"Even when he's happy with someone else?"

You nodded, "Even to someone other than me."

Daniel Ricciardo shook his head, "I’m told Max is nervous. I think it would do him good to talk to you. You’re the only one who knows how to calm him when he’s like this."

After a bad race, you were always there to have a conversation with him. Max Verstappen was a self-confident person, but he also got easily mad when things didn’t go the way he had planned. There was a lot of pressure on him to do his best. Even when you weren’t in the same country as him, one phone call from you was enough to get him in a better mood.

You nodded and went to where Max was supposedly to be. You knocked on the door and took a breath, that’s when you heard his voice saying you could pass. The vision completely shattered you. Max was wearing a black suit, one that fit him perfectly. He was even more beautiful than usual, he was the perfect groom. It was just a few minutes before he went out and tied himself up for the rest of his life with another woman. Realization caused you a new wound in your heart.

"Max."

"Here you are, lieverd. I’ve been looking for you for hours."

He came practically running to your side and melted you into a hug. Having him around and at the same time so far away, you ended up breaking. You started shaking and crying in his arms, it was impossible to hold him much longer. Max finally heard your sobs and noticed your tremor, his concern grew.

"What's wrong?"

When you didn’t answer, he took you by the face and your eyes met.

"Tell me, what's wrong?"

It was too late. You couldn’t say you loved him, it was his wedding. You wanted to oppose it, you wanted to yell at the priest that they couldn’t get married. That Max was marrying the wrong girl. Yet you couldn’t do it. You loved him enough to want him to be happy.

You shook your head, "I’m sorry, Max. I have to go, I just... I hope you're happy."

"Wait!"

You ignored him and ran as fast as you could, away from him. You found an empty room and with the curtains closed, the atmosphere of the room seemed dull and melancholy. You knelt on the floor and allowed yourself to cry. It didn’t matter anymore, the person you loved the most in your life was going to marry someone else. After months of waiting, Max was going to say yes in a few minutes.

"Lieverd."

"Don’t call me that."

You didn’t know when he had gotten to where you were. Not caring about the dust in the room, he knelt on the floor next to you. His suit was going to be ruined because of you.

"What’s wrong with you? Why are you running? Why are you crying?"

You looked at him, "Don’t tell me you don’t know, Max. Everybody knows."

"Knows what?"

"I’m in love with you and it hurts so much."

Max was puzzled by your statement. Hell, you thought, why did you have to talk? Couldn’t you have waited, or at least shut up for the rest of your life?

"Look, I know I’m being selfish and it wasn’t the way this day was supposed to be. It’s your day, it’s your wedding and you just have to be focused on your wife-to-be."

"Are you in love with me?"

"Max..."

"Answer."

Max held his breath and so did you. There was no room for lies.

"Yes, I am. I have loved you for years."

"And why didn’t you ever tell me?"

"Because I know you don’t feel the same way, and I understand. But I don’t want to lose you as a friend, and I certainly didn’t want you looking at me like you are now." you closed your eyes and opened them again, Max was looking at you with those eyes that you had fallen in love with. "It doesn’t matter anymore, it doesn’t change anything. Nothing’s gonna change, telling you just made everything worse."

"Since when do you feel this?”

"Max..." his gaze let you know that he needed you to answer his question. "I’ve loved you since we met, and I think the most tragic part about this is that I don’t think I can stop even if I wanted to."

There was a prolonged silence. You let out a sigh, you had ruined everything.

"I’m sorry, Max. I’m sorry for everything, I’ll leave and you’ll never see me again."

Max stopped you before you could get up, his hand held yours in a strong grip. You could feel the warmth of his hand and you could almost hear your own heartbeat.

"No, don’t go away."

"Max."

"What makes you think I don’t feel the same way about you? What makes you think I’m happily marrying her?

"You’re not happy? I don’t understand... it’s your marriage, you and her—"

"Stop, listen to me. I know that I was supposed to marry her, I’ve thought several times about what was supposed to be best for me. I thought I loved her and she was the one... but I can’t stop thinking about you. Funny, isn’t it? Because while I’m thinking about you, she doesn’t even occupy even a fraction of my mind. While I have been waiting in that room, I have thought of everything."

"I know now she’s not the woman I want to marry, that’s you. It’s always been you. And now that you’re saying this, that you’re in love with me- I can’t know that the woman I’m in love with also feels the same way about me, and that with my decision I’m breaking her heart."

You couldn’t understand anything that was going on. It almost seemed like a dream, finally someone seemed to hear your prayers.

"But you’re going to marry her, she’s waiting for you. The guests..."

"I don’t care about anyone, I only care about you. I love you. Only you."

You smiled, "Max, are you sure?"

"I am."

And saying that, he grabbed your cheeks and kissed you. It was the first kiss, his lips felt exactly as you had dreamed. It was a sweet and desperate kiss, two lovers who despite the tragic events they had experienced, finally let their hearts be heard. You couldn’t believe it, Max felt the same. You grabbed him harder, never wanting him to separate from you. You wanted the moment to last a lifetime, because you had never been happier. When you walked away, you smiled at him and his eyes shone.

"I love you, Lieverd."

Just a couple of minutes later, Daniel helped the two of you escape from the horrified looks from everyone in the room.

[stxneflxwers]

Ah well, hopefully this works. I hope I understood what you meant asking for requests

Can I please request Malachy, Aventurine, and Sunday(since you're trying him out:]) with a Witch S/O who thinks they don't love the character enough, so Witch!S/O tries to make a love potion to make them undeniably smitten and infatuated with the character?

As in the reader is drinking the potion so that they aren't "accidentally unloving" towards the character, and the character finds them first(or the reader asks, whichever you'd prefer to write)

This is somewhat based off my own anxiety regarding not showing enough emotion when I feel I should, you seem like you could make a good fic of that as you're more in touch with mental illness and the like

love potion.

summary. you believe your love for them simply isn't enough – and, of course, as a witch, you think you have just the right solution.

a/n. hi pookie!! ty for the request!! it should be fun to write ! and it's honestly pretty relatable as someone who struggles to show love in any way aside from like, metaphorically sitting next to my loved ones and blinking at them slowly like a cat LMAO. also rip me, i excluded sunday from this cuz during writing aventurine's, i noticed how long it was gonna be... maybe i'll write sunday's another time 👀

characters. aventurine. malachy. gn reader.

cw. witch is used in the most gender neutral way i can manage. love potions. insecurity/anxiety. affection (physical, verbal). established relationship(s). one singular instance of oc (Malachy) x reader. all lowercase. hurt/comfort. reader cries.

aventurine.

(w.c: 739)

he's oh-so perceptive. your magical antics do not go unnoticed the vast majority of the time. there's times it will slip past him, but that's either from sheer chance or because he wasn't paying that much attention.

and, this time, he definitely cannot tear his eyes away from you.

he worries about you, of course. more than he would (or perhaps could) ever admit. he's a subtle lover, he doesn't put you in the spotlight unless you want to be there with him. even then, it can make him feel nervous, anxious.

so, when you start getting flashy and in-his-face with your affection and undying devotion – it's a little overwhelming for even him. he's not sure what's going on, but he can bet it has something to do with your potions or magic.

but, curiosity kills the cat, so he ends up turning this into a long-winded game – just to see how long you can keep doing this. he knows something is up, but whether you know that he knows is a different thing.

the longer this game goes on, the more he notices how delirious you're getting. he decides it's time for a little intervention.

when he goes to talk to you, you're brewing another potion in your organized mess of a kitchen at home. there's little tears in your eyes. he feels immediate pang of guilt for not doing this sooner, but there's a part of him that wishes you would've simply come to him a long time ago. instead of the other way around.

"hey," he greets with a soft smile, it's not one of his usual smiles, it has less edge to it. "what're you makin' this time, pretty thing?" he asks with a subtle affectionate lilt in his voice.

he doesn't step too far into the kitchen, he's instead hanging around the doorway – leaning against it with his arms crossed. he knows it's wisest to not wander too far into this "magical forest". at least, not when you're whittling away at yet another concoction.

"ah!" you squeak in surprise, nearly dropping your very precious mortar and pestle that has stuck with you for too long. it definitely wouldn't break by being dropped on the floor, but you worry anyways. "i'm, uhm..." you trail off, not wanting to confess. but you know it's difficult to lie to a liar – it takes one to know one.

"no worries, sweetheart, i think i have an idea," he tentatively steps up behind you, grabbing the mortar and pestle to set it aside. "here's my first guess... is it a...love potion?" his voice drops a pitch lower, and the interrogation has truly begun.

"wh–" you sputter, and you mentally damn him for being so observant, "yeah, it is... i just..."

he lazily loops his arms around your waist, patiently waiting for you to open up. his eyes don't stick to your face for too long, understanding it may stress you out more than necessary. he wants your trust, that's all.

"aventurine?" you mutter, "is my...is my love enough for you?" you ask bashfully, beginning to realize how ridiculous the notion may sound to him.

"it's more than i could ever ask for." he looks back at you, his soft smile growing warmer and sweeter.

"...are you sure?"

"absolutely sure, darling. in fact, i don't quite think i deserve such a pure, unfiltered love. but... that's a debate for another day, hmm?" he winks.

you twirl around in his arms, wrapping your own limbs around his neck and pulling him close for a warm, ensuring embrace. you sigh shakily over his shoulder, tears beginning to well up again.

"i love you so much, but i feel like...like it's never enough. i don't want to be unloving toward you. you don't deserve that... you deserve so much good, so much better." you whisper brokenly.

"well, i don't really care about what you think i 'deserve'," he pulls back slightly, taking your chin between two fingers and tilting your head to his height. "because, frankly, i only want you – even during the unlovable times." he says firmly, brooking no argument.

"...i..." you fall almost speechless as little tears begin to fall, "thank you..." you whisper hastily before hiding your face in the fluff of his fur-lined coat.

"hmhm," he hums, rubbing your back with one hand, "not a problem, darling... you are more precious to me than i could ever hope to convey."

malachy.

(w.c: 524)

malachy is also extremely observant. however, they're far more likely to approach you about certain issues instead of playing the long game. it may not seem like it from even up close, but they have a sensitive heart – so, they hate to see you struggle on your own, even if you want to do it by yourself.

they get it, though. independence is an addictive drug. but they still want you to understand that you can trust them, rely on them. they feel useless otherwise – not that they would ever say that to your face.

however, malachy has a certain..."threshold" for affection. it can be overwhelming for them after a certain point (despite having been married twice in the distant past). when you start getting a little too touchy, a little too vocal, they can't help the irritation that makes their only visible eye twitch.

they try their best not to vocalize this "minor" issue, though. they know what's up, but they want you to feel comfortable and safe, above all else. they put up with the sudden, frequent bouts of affection and attention. but, even a star from the very heavens have their limits to their patience...

"alright, alright," malachy grumbles, turning in your arms as you give them the nth hug that day. "what's going on?" their only visible eye narrows, but you can nearly feel the chill that their other, hidden eye holds.

"haha... wh-what do you mean?" you sputter in surprise, backing away. but malachy grabs you by the shoulders with tender hands. tender hands that have killed countless times, but they're the very same tender hands that hold you with grace and love.

"...you're not that sneaky, sorry to say," they sigh softly, tentatively releasing your shoulders; trusting that you won't run away. "i don't know what you've been concocting lately, but i'd like to know. i can smell the remnants of the potion."

you often forget how keen their senses are. despite looking and acting like a human, they're so far removed from it. they're the representation of a heavenly star from a distant universe – one you will never get to know intimately, never get to see or hear or feel. malachy is the closest you'll ever get to knowing the multiverse so deeply.

"i... i'm sorry!" you squeak, and it's pathetic to you, but you're at a loss what to say or do.

you want to run away, but the moment you turn to leave, malachy pulls you into a soft embrace. the kind of embrace you can easily tear away from. but you don't. you stay, contented to be in their arms yet scared to know what they'll say next.

"i want you to know that you're good enough, and no one else has the right to judge your worthiness. not even me." they whisper, leaning over your shoulder to press a chaste kiss to your cheekbone.

"mal... i..." you stutter before turning in their arms, grasping at the lapels of their leather trench coat. "...i love you – so, so much..." you remind.

"and i adore you, my lovely witch. i always have, and always will."

[mrsmikaelsxn]

Drunk Bliss

masterlist

pairing: jj maybank x female reader

warning: intoxication, mentions of alcohol, one suggestive innuendo

summary: you and the pogues - excluding jj - were at a party and you got so drunk they had to call your boyfriend to pick you up

a/n: guys i kinda hate this but i hope you don't ):

song: out of my league - fitz and the tantrums

"Maybe you should have some water!" Kie yells over the loud music while trying to take the new glass of alcohol from you.

"I- I don't neeeed water, Kieee- Kiara," you slur and squint your eyes at her.

Kie puts an arm around your shoulders, trying to stop your swaying. "You had about seven cups- which is way too much."

You look at your hands and try to count to seven with them. Kie laughs and brings you over to Sarah. "What should we do with her?"

"You should dance with me!"

"How can you dance if you can hardly stand?" Sarah giggles.

"S-standing is over- overraaa- overrated," you grab Sarah and Kie's hands, pulling them and slightly tripping on the way.

"One dance," Kie says and then leans over towards Sarah, "then we'll call JJ."

She nods and you three hold hands as you jump around carelessly to the music.

You stop suddenly and frown. The two girls look at you with slight head tilts. "What's wrong?"

You look around and your eyebrows raise, "Where's my boyfriend?"

Sarah and Kie glance at each other. "He's at home, he didn't want to come tonight."

You look at them with now teary eyes, "He didn't want to come with me?"

"No! No, I- I mean yes! He... he did, but uh-" Sarah bumps hips with Kie, asking her to help.

"Uh, JJ's at home because, um, he was making you a bracelet! Right, Sarah?"

"Oh, yes! Mhm!"

You sniff and wipe under your eyes. "I see. He's so sweet," you smile.

Kie turns to the blond, "You think he'll be mad when she's expecting a bracelet from him?"

"Hm, maybe," she shrugs.

You start walking and you see Pope sitting on a couch. "Pope! Popo! Pooooope," you fall onto the seat next to him. "How are you, my friend?"

Sarah and Kie follow and stand near the two of you. He looks at you and smiles, "I'm good. How are you? Having any fun without JJ-"

"No!" Kie and Sarah shout. "Don't mention him," they hiss. They learned you were a bit of an emotional drunk a while back.

You're eyes water again, "I miss him."

Pope moves you so that you can lay your head on his lap. He runs his hands through your hair soothingly. "How much has she had to drink?" Pope mouths to the girls.

They hold up seven fingers and his eyes widen. John B jumps over the back of the couch and lands on the other side of Pope. "Let's just call him?"

JJ was in his bed.

This is probably the first time he hasn't gone to a party with his friends. Who is he to miss out on free alcohol.

However, earlier that day, you and JJ were sitting on the beach together and you were ranting to him about your favorite book.

He asked you if he could read it, seeing as you were talking so passionately about it.

So here he was, alone in bed reading the book on a friday night. That's until his phone rings next to him. He grabs it and answers the call from John B.

"Hey," he says putting a bookmark in the book.

"Hey, man. Can you come get y/n?"

He sits up and gets out of bed. "Yeah? Why? Is something wrong?"

"Eh. She's just really drunk. Kie and Sarah are currently trying to stop her from taking some shots."

JJ laughs and starts putting on his shoes. "Alright I'm leaving now."

"Kay, see you," John B hangs up and JJ leaves.

JJ walks into the party and goes to where Pope and John B were talking.

"Ah, the man of the hour has arrived!" John B pats his shoulder. "She's over there," he nods his head to you.

JJ nods and walks over to you, Sarah, and Kie. When he gets behind you he puts an arm around your waist and his chin on your shoulder. "Hello, pretty girl."

You turn around and a bright smile goes onto your face. "JJ!" You put your arms around him and squeeze him in a tight hug. "I mis-missed you," you hiccup.

"I missed you too," he kisses your forehead. He nods at the other two girls. Sarah and Kie nod back with smiles and went back to dancing. "Why don't we head home, yeah?"

"Okayyy," you lean your head against his shoulder.

JJ walks you out and to the car. He puts your seatbelt on and then goes into the driver's seat.

As he drives, your head faces him and admire him. "You are like, soo pretty."

His head turns you you with a boyish grin before he looks back at the road. "Thank you, sweetheart. You're like, soo gorgeous."

You look out the window and giggle to yourself. He glances at you and chews his bottom lip.

"Oh!" You sit up straight, "Are you almost done with my bracelet? I want matching ones with you."

His loving face turns to one of confusion. "Bracelet? What bracelet?"

"Sarah and Kie said you stayed home to make me a bracelet," you frowned.

"Umm, I stayed at home to read your book, remember?"

"Hmm. Oh yes! Can we make matching bracelets still?"

"Of course we can. Tomorrow when you're able to. I don't think you can use the string correctly with all that alcohol in you."

"Whatever you say, Jay," you say and then laugh. "That rhymes."

"It does," JJ nods.

"JJ, I'm hungry," you sigh.

"What are you in the mood for?"

"You," you grin.

He looks at you with a blank face when you burst out laughing. "I'm just kidding. Maybe. No, I'm not."

He smiles and reaches over to hold your hand. "Silly girl."

"I'm going to take a nap," you put your head against the window.

"Alright, love. Dream about me?"

"Always," you lazily grin at him while your eyes flutter shut.

[krenenbaker]

Trick or Treat~!

Pairing: Che'nya x Floyd (could be read platonically or romantically)

Summary: It's finally Halloween night, but Floyd is in a bit of a slump. However, the arrival of a curious companion may just make the Halloween party a bit more interesting for him.

Notes: This is my first attempt at something following a prompt - specifically, "Trick or Treat" for the 2023 TWST Rarepair Halloween event. I'm trying to get more comfortable/practiced with writing prose (which is why this wasn't posted on the 30th... oops), and only vaguely ended up following the prompt. I'm fairly happy with how this little piece turned out, though!

Tags: @dove-da-birb, @azulashengrottospiano, @inkybloom-luv, @eynnwwyjth, @officialdaydreamer00 (please let me know if you'd like to be included or excluded from future writing of mine, or only want to be included in specific types of creations)

Floyd wanted to take a break. 

It was Halloween, and all he had done the entire week was work, work, work. Getting costumes ready, decorating, helping with their dorm's presentation, plus cooking and serving at the Lounge, all on top of normal classes? 

Sure, it was fun, especially getting to show off Octavinelle's cool setup, and 'taking care of' those misbehaving visitors. But now? Everything felt draining and boring, and Floyd simply wanted to leave, which sucked because the actual Halloween party had just started!  

Maybe he should just ditch and go back to his dorm; being in a funk when everyone else is having fun around you is not enjoyable.  He slumped down on a bench and unwrapped a sweet he had picked up earlier, before wrapping it up again. Ugh, not even in the mood for that candy he wanted only a few minutes ago. 

As he shoved the sweet back into his pocket and was about to get up from the bench to leave, Floyd heard a rustle behind him. Someone was quietly humming, and… laughing? The sound gradually moved to his side, towards the empty side of the bench.  

“Trick or treat~”

Floyd turned to face the voice. "Listen, man, I'm not in the mood to—” he froze, staring at the figure beside him. “Hang on a second, where's your body!?"

A toothy smile came to the face of the head that currently floated beside Floyd. "Oh, it's here.... or maybe it's there." A pair of hands materialized on either side of this boy's head, followed by the rest of his body. 

“I'm just kidding. Mind if I take a seat? I’d like to rest up before I keep purrowling around and startling people.”

Floyd blinked, then raised an eyebrow. “Uh, go for it.” 

This guy was... weird, and it was hard to tell if he'd be annoying, or interesting. "You don't go here, do ya? At least, I’ve never seen you before. And you’re no ghost, either.”

The cat-like boy shook his head, his jewellery jingling softly. "I'm just passing through for the festivities and collecting treats. Scaring some people, too. That’s loads of fun. And it's always nice to see my friends let loose." 

Floyd had a vague memory surface. "Ohh... you must be that RSA boy who's friends with Sea Turtle and Goldfishie." 

"'Sea Turtle' and 'Goldfishie', hey? Those are good names for my green and red friends. Cats are known for liking fish." He leaned forward, his grin growing. “Artemiy Artemiyevich Pinker. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Floyd nodded, “Floyd Leech. It's nice to meet you, too.” He looked curiously at the boy beside him, taking in his shaggy hair, piercings, and impish smile.

"You're not what I expected.” Floyd smiled, "But you seem fun, Catfish. I didn't think Goldfishie would get along with someone so... interesting."

Che'nya's eyes lit up slightly. "Catfish? Heh heh heh, most people call me Che'nya, but I guess that works. And I’ve heard some… interesting stories about you, too."

He stretched his legs out in front of him, leaning back with his arms behind his head as he sighed. "But yeah, I don't think Riddle could shake me if he tried." 

"I'm almost jealous." Floyd tipped his head slightly. "Most of the time, Goldfishie likes to swim away before I can play with him."

Che'nya laughed, "Well, if you're wondering, he 'swam off' that way." He pointed off to the side. “Just don’t be rough with him. I don’t like people mistreating my friends.”

Floyd looked off into the crowd where he had pointed, and let out a small laugh. “Alright, good to know. Maybe I’ll find him later, if I feel like it”, he smiled and sat back. “And Goldfishie’s stronger than he looks, but I guess you’d know that.”

Che’nya nodded, then leaned closer with a mischievous glint in his eye. "You know, I bet we could do something that would really surprise him.” 

Floyd turned slightly towards Che’nya, and flashed a smile. “Yeah, we probably could. I think we should talk more in the future, Catfish. You seem pretty fun.” 

Che’nya grinned, “You seem pretty fun, too.”

"Well,” he stretched his arms above his head. “I think I’m going to go and find some more treats… and play some more tricks tonight. I'll catch you around, Floyd." 

With a haunting giggle echoing in his ears, Floyd watched as the boy beside him faded into nothingness, just the same way he had arrived. 

What a weird guy.

Floyd unwrapped the candy he had pocketed earlier, then popped it into his mouth. Maybe this party was worth staying at after all.

[coupleoffanfics]

Future Child

Okay, Batsis reader. Right? On board? This is around the time when y/n has given up the nightlife and hasn't detached herself from the family.

I'm gonna go off the wall and say what if the family was visited by y/n's child from the future? I know it sounds crazy, but please listen. The family could run a DNA test or the child could walk up to Bruce in broad daylight and whisper, "Hello, flying rodent".

They won't reveal their name, so they're just called V.

During their time there Dick would be so tempted to ask about the future. Maybe not things specifically about his life because he knows they can't answer questions like that. But he'll ask just stupid questions like do cats have jetpacks or something? He'd also try to get to know his nephew. What they like, personality, etc.

Tim and Bruce would be poking at them on how they got here. Though Bruce probably had to take a moment to crack a smile for a split second. He was going to be a grandpa one day and the thought made him tear up. It's just happy news all around for him but he wouldn't dare show it.

Damian would be observing them closely and taking note of their outfit which looked to be something a hero would wear. Making him wonder what kinda of hero they were and if they were any good at fighting. Both Jason and Barbara just stood back from the situation. Babs is still in a bit of shock but is happy to hear that y/n was able to gain the domestic lifestyle she wanted.

y/n's child gives them a gist of how ended up here without giving names. Dick would notice V glancing around the cave and offer to give them a tour. They except of course. He takes note of how V doesn't seem into small talk but asks a lot of questions. The whole family picks up on how X asks a lot of questions about y/n. Their mother. It's odd and a bit worrying to Bruce, but the others just think that y/n didn't talk too much about her time as Batgirl.

Everything is relatively calm until y/n walks into the Batcave for her laptop. V's calm, almost stoic mood is dropped. Tim and Bruce see how V almost took a step forward, but reluctantly stood still. How V started rapidly blinking their eyes and struggling to look at y/n.

Dick would probably zoom up to y/n with a big smile, "Hey, Mama bird, did you get the diapers?" And y/n just gives him a confused, maybe even sacred look.

Everything is going fine. The family is working together on getting them to their time. Cool, yeah, whatever.

But what if there's just something that triggers V. It could be something that was said or asked that leads V and y/n to argue. It's not even arguing. It's just V spilling out grievances about their father and kind of insulting y/n.

"I can't believe you'd still defend him even before you met him. How rich."…"You didn't plan me, but Dad did and you were somehow okay with it? I was only there to keep you down, but what about the other two? Did you love them more because Dad didn't plan them?"…"Dad may have cared about you, but not us. You weren't a monster like him, but letting him get away with so much makes you just as guilty."…"You're both broken people. Maybe you two are meant to be."

V storms off and y/n retreats to her room. Everyone is dumbstruck by this sudden revolution.

Eventually, V does apologize to y/n. When she awkwardly accepts, they get misty-eyed because they really didn't mean to say any of that. They know how she doesn't take the apology, not entirely, and they feel like shit. They do care about their mom, despite all that they said.

When it's almost time for V to return back to the future they pull the whole family aside. Excluding y/n so she won't hear what they're going to say.

"As you guessed my Dad wasn't the best. Mom never talked about any of you and with Dad being a villain I could understand why. He's not a good person in general. Mom deserved better, so this time around try doing a better job. Don't let her slip away or be taken away. If I'm born then you know you failed."

This resonates with the family and brings up questions that won't be answered anytime soon. I could see this leading the family to become yandere or overprotective. Either one is fine because their efforts are futile.

If going down the Yandere route then I could see them becoming so overbearing that y/n runs from them. They control her life. Who she talks to, where she goes, what she does. She can't live like this and she runs away when given the chance.

If going down the protective route then it's slightly better than the Yandere one. At least in terms of their relationship. They pay extra attention to her and check up on her regularly until one day she just disappears.

In each route, They'd keep a close eye on any guy that has similar physical features (ex: hair, eyes). Since V has stated they look more like their father. When she does go missing they'll search high and low for her, but there isn't anything that would locate where she is. Her disappearance keeps them up at night for many years until a vaguely familiar person visits the manor.

They awkwardly introduce themself, "Hi, my name is..."

They failed.

If anyone wants to write about this idea then go ahead. Doesn't even have to be the Batfamily. I won't write about it unless asked. I'm just not married to the idea. It almost 2 in the morning I need sleep.

[worriedvision]

Forgery - Chapter 2

Gender neutral reader, will tag part 1 at some point. Part 1 is the first chapter, and is needed as it's part of this fic. This is more build up than, I can see this having more than 5 chapters with how I'm thinking up a plot... And that's before stemming off into other routes!

--

"Good morning." You hear Sethos smile, handing you some water before stretching his limbs. "Ready to keep going?"

"Do you need sleep? I know I've slept a good few hours, I'd feel bad for letting you run on nothing." You chime in, Sethos rubbing the back of his head.

"As much as I'd like to take you up on that offer, I'm afraid because you are considered a suspect - I can't leave you unattended." Sethos states, beginning to prepare for the continued walk.

"Fine...If we land up walking past a village, though, could you ask for a couple of hours of sleep? I'll make sure someone keeps an eye on me."

"Funny you say that - Aaru village is just a few miles away! I'll stop by there, and Candace can keep watching of you." Sethos smiles.

Nodding, you help Sethos pack his bag before continuing on. Turns out he was right, Aaru village was there, and he was allowed to sleep. The only difference was, instead of Candace watching over you, it was the General Mahamatra himself. Initially, it was Candace looking after you while Cyno spoke to Sethos - you could only hope he wasn't tearing Sethos a new one for stopping. You plan to address this when you do finally speak to Cyno.

"So you're the person allegedly threatening the Medical Melusine?" Cyno speaks, causing you to jump.

"I was accused of that, yes." You start, already sensing Cynos immediate distaste. "I promise it wasn't me who sent the threat though! I wouldn't dream of hurting Sigewinne - she's my friend!"

"I must advise you to be careful with your words." Cyno responds, sitting across from you. "I plan on interviewing you here, before taking you to your final location."

Seeing your face drop, seemingly terrified you were going to be executed based on what you heard of Sumerus punishments, Cyno pipes up once again. "Don't worry - you will be working alongside a colleague of mine. I have not yet decided your fate due to lack of evidence."

Letting out a sigh of relief, you let him continue.

"Now, forgeries are very common - from my conversation with Sethos, it isn't a scenario I would rule out as unlikely. That being said, I must say I don't know you well enough to decide." Cyno begins, pulling out a pen and paper before pushing it towards yourself. "I would like you to write how you begin a letter, as well as how you sign off a letter. Be precise - if you have multiple variations depending on the relation, please include these."

Not thinking twice, you pick up the pen and paper, writing the requested evidence out. Cyno watches you, taking mental notes for himself as you carry out the task without having to think too hard.

"Here. What else do you need?" You ask, the paper being handed back over as well as the pen.

"Do you have any people you do wish harm upon? Any enemies at all?" Cyno asks, you shaking your head no. "How about jealousy - anyone you think of that may be jealous, please let me know."

"I can't think of anyone." You answer honestly.

"Last question - do you have any connections to outside organisations? The Fatui, the Abyss order, the Guhua Clan, anyone?" Cyno asks, you denying this. "Thank you for your answers. Please complete this form - this will be basic information for healthcare in Sumeru, and since you are still considered a suspect due to lack of incriminating evidence efficiently linking you to the crime you are entitled to free healthcare."

-

The walk to Gandharva ville is relatively uneventful - excluding your admiration of all the wildlife and plants you hadn't seen before. Upon arrival at Master Tighnaris house, Cyno knocks before walking in, you following along.

"Oh, thank you for gracing me with your presence, General." Tighnari huffs, finishing up with a vial of medicine. "Consider yourself lucky I didn't drop this vial. And is the person behind you the "alleged" Melusine hater?" Tighnari tuts, looking at you.

"I don't hate my friend, it was a forgery!" You tell, Tighnari wincing at the loudness. "Sorry, I've just had a hard time with all of this."

"...Cyno, please take our esteemed guest to their home - they will be staying with a guard - before we continue our discussion of the situation?" Tighnari asks. Cyno nods, gesturing for you to head out with him.

Upon entering the home, Cyno excuses himself as your roommate shows you around - where to get cleaned up, your bed, the essential bits and bobs.

--

Tighnari looks over the evidence Cyno had collected of your situation - some from you, and some from Wriothesley or Neuvillette. Upon first glance, the threatening letters look real.

But a second glance gives more context. None of the threats had your usual signatures or opening lines, and there were inconsistencies with the writing. A rare letter looked out of place, almost like two letters had been smashed together to make up for a mistake on the writers behalf.

Your medical information also gave hints - the person who wrote the letters didn't seem to account for your age, clearly quoting an 'age' you were that was off by approximately 5 years from when the letter was written and/or sent.

"I think this is a forgery, but I want to consult another opinion from someone else before pushing forward." Cyno explains. "I am asking yo.u not as a colleague, but rather as a friend - if you had been looking at this letter, would you think this person was _?"

"I think it's clear this is a forgery - I'm surprised that nobody in Fontaine clocked this, given they will likely have more evidence than ourselves." Tighnari tilts his head. "Ask for a second opinion, but I think they jumped to conclusions given the violent threats in this letter. I also noted _ referred to Sigewinne, but didn't voice any distain towards her..." Tighnari places a hand on his chin, thinking intently.

Cyno takes the letters, nodding as he agrees with Tighnari.

"Turns out-" Cyno starts, noting Tighnari cringing inwardly. "- the medical records have proven to be important to this investigation."

Tighnari let's out a sigh of relief, relieved Cyno didn't crack an awful joke.

"I would like to tell a joke, however given the seriousness of the threat I will hold back." Cyno blankly explains, walking out.

[captainjacklyn]

Hi! :D Can you do a follow up with the Great Seven descendants but with Leona, Idia, and Malleus? Thank you!

Sure comrade ! However, I'm going to exclude Idia because he technically is the descendant of Hades (based off of what I know, I may be wrong)- BESIDES THAT, your wish is my command. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it !

Pairings : Leona Kingscholar x reader, Malleus Draconia x reader

Warnings : gn!reader, other than that I have no idea what could be triggering, if anything makes you uncomfortable alert me and I will see what I can do to fix it.

Malleus and Leona reacting to their s/o being the descendant of one of the great Sevens :

Leona Kingscholar

To be Scar's descendant means being a beast man or beast woman. Wether you keep your royal heritage depends on you but I'm going to assume you didn't considering the fact that he's- a traitor...quite literally disowned-

You're rather cunning and sometimes almost cruel. There have been several moments where you bashed Savannaclaw for lazing about or picking on others for no reason.

Technically that dorm's second parent, leona being the first. Don't be surprised if they start calling you 'dad' or 'mom'.

Whenever the both of you get into an argument they just start screaming : "PLEASE DON'T GET A DIVORCE"

meanwhile we got Ruggie acting as the poor ass aunt. Cause rich auntie isn't happening anytime soon.

The one thing he notices about you is the fact that whenever he talks about the king of beasts, you groan out of pure irritation.

"Mmh..? What are you frowning about ?"

"..Why are you talking about him ?"

"What's wrong with that ? He's one of the Great Sevens-"

"I don't understand why you constantly have to bring him up all the time. That idiot practically destroyed his descendants' chances of remaining royalty. All cause he wanted the damn throne..killing his brother doing so- It's disgusting."

"..."

"You're related to that guy ?"

"Do not-"

"Yes Ma'am/Sir."

He's glad that you have no idea about the incident for the magift incident cause he feels like he would lose his tail if you did find out.

Pussy. Captain ? Miss Orchidia is back. She got beef with you.

Malleus Draconia

You have horns, you are a fae.

....

"are you my sibling- ?"

"what."

Very similar personalities, both of you are elegant and poised until you don't receive an invitation. He's glad that you understand his feelings however he feels bad that you also do since it means others are afraid of you.

His s/o is ruthless, dark, devious, and will do whatever it takes to achieve their goals. As the partner of the prince of Briar valley you are highly respected by Sebek and the entirety of Diasomnia.

Hell everyone respects you and will kiss your feet when you order them to do so.

slay

His grandmother loves you too and often invites you to come discuss or eat with her. Much to her grandson's embarrassment.

"To think that you'd be the great-great-great-great daughter of the witch of thorns herself ! My mother was good friends with her in the past~" *insert malleus choking on his tea then crying because he burned his tongue in the process*

"My lady I didn't tell him yet." "Oh. my bad."

"Sigh. I'm sorry for not revealing that fact to you sooner malleus-" "marry me." "oh what the hell-"

Thank you, have a good day/evening.

I hope you choke on your salad Orchidia get the fuck out of here.

[mehiwilldoitlater]

hai, this is my first time request in your blog,

May i've headcannon for Sun wukong x swan princess s/o (because I saw a post about them in your blog ) please.

This will be so romantic ❤️

Most of these headcanons are based on a modern setting! Mostly because it's funnier:

-Living together was one of the first things that these two wanted to do, mostly because they wanted their own privacy (small monkeys excluded) and mostly because they knew that they still knew how to live together as a couple. Of course they needed to make some setting rules, and, as much as some would not believe, Wukong was the one that came up with a cleaning schedule. The job changes every week, so no one can complain about "doing the same things over and over," which is quite helpful. Usually, they cook together!

Once she opened the door, the smell of frying meat met Odette's nostrils.

The view of a certain monkey moving around the kitchen was quite the view, even if it broke her heart a little.

"I'm back! Sorry I'm late; I met traffic in the subway!"

"How did you meet Traccif in the subway?" He laughed, moving his hand in the air. "No worries! I'm almost done here. Want to help me with the veggies?"

After discarding her coat, she tied her hair in a ponytail, putting herself to work.

-Date could be on common ground or be something that the other loves or would have loved to do, and the other is so in love to say no. Of course they have some lines that are better not to be crossed (not to be forced to partake in something that could remind them of some traumatic experience since both of them need a lot of therapy).

No one said that they could not complain about the activity, but never to the point of putting the date on the wrong mood. Then, we had the yoga accident…

They both sit in silence, one far too angry to speak to him, the other quite embarrassed to bring the argument on.

"…Do you really need to scream from the top of your lungs?" Odette finally spoke.

"She said to let all of our negative thoughts out of our mind!"

-If they argue, which can happen, not so much but can, they can stay for hours in silence in the same room, ignoring the other for no one knows how long. Despite being the rational one, Odette too had enough pride to not let her good heart be swayed by giving him right on something on which he was clearly wrong, and Wukong? Well, he's Wukong! He'll never apologize!….If he's sure that he's not the one to blame, of course.

The only sound was the ticking of the clock on the wall. Odette sat on the sofa, Wukong just on the complete opposite side. They avoided making any sound, any eye contact, or any possible thing that could make them talk. Her nails ticked like the clock on the sofa surface; Wukong's tail swayed like a snake.

"…I'm sorry if I overreacted." He finally said, moving his hand up. "I didn't mean for us to fight like that… and I'm sorry I had said something that had hurt you."

"…" She didn't speak, but she started to at least look at him.

"It's just…I really can't control myself…I still have issues."

"…I know you have them… and I appreciate your apology…"

"…Thanks…"

"……But I still think Gordon shouldn't let Michael leave Hell's Kitchen."

"SERIOUSLY—"

-Wukong loves Odette; that's a matter of fact. With her, it was the first time in his life that he didn't know how to talk or how to be a little smartass. He loves that fire in her, how elegant and yet so fierce she can be. He loves the fact that, given up, it seemed the easy way out; she still holds on to her pride and didn't give up at all. She is strong and intelligent, and he would literally move the moon for her... he did it once.

"I'm ridiculous."

"I think you're lovely…" she smiled, leading the small dance they had on the rooftop of the building. His height never was a problem for him, but trying to dance surely shows some cons from it.

"I can't even look at you properly!"

"Is the mighty Monkey King having height issues?" She smiled, making a quirky remark. He twitched his eyebrow, touched by that comment, then he smirked. In one movement he was able to swing Odette, holding her in a dip. She gasped, holding herself on him to not fall down on the cement.

"Now," he smirked, "I can enjoy the view!"

-Odette loves Wukong not only because he saved her, but also because he showed that he cared. All her life she was forced to accept the fact that she was supposed to marry the prince, who noticed only one trait of her (her beauty). Wukong not only noticed firstly how she really was but also what she could have been. She grew closer to him than she ever was with the other. To Odette, Wukong is the sun, who came to put some light in her life and give her a second chance, and she loves him for that. She supported him from the beginning and always did, and tried her best to be the reasonable voice of the two.

Her finger caressed his head, her nails slowly scratching his scalp, resulting in a small sound coming from his strong chest. He was purring; he allowed himself to do it only alongside his friend and her… she blushed, thinking how cute that was. She gently kissed him again, feeling a twitching under her lips.

"Are you awake?" she whispered; only the golden color from his irises responded to her.

She giggled, allowing herself to give him another kiss, which he followed immediately.

@thepoweroffiction @angryvampire @the-little-devils-chaos

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[drdemonprince]

I've noticed a pattern in anticapitalist books I read (specifically I'm talking abt Mark Fisher here, in Capitalist Realism). They do this great anticapitalist analysis etc and then go on to critique their students? and sometimes it's a bit ableist? it's like all the critical thought goes out of the window and they cannot understand the situation because for once suddenly they are in the authoritative position. It always gives me this "I don't understand these kids, back in my day-" vibe, and I see this with lecturers at university too. like Mark Fisher maybe we can think outside the box about your student who "needs" headphones to focus in class "even though no music is playing". and maybe it's not to do with the "Matrix"(????) I'm well aware this was written in 2008 but it's weird that I see this pattern continue today. Not to mention Mark Fisher took part in some ableist studies, and was a guy with questionable intentions on occasion.

it's like you Just said that reducing labour is good why are you calling your students lazy, that's so unprofessional and privileged. I wonder of coincidence that he is anti-meds when his right wing, pro-eugenics, accelerationist friend was addicted to amphetamines.

Or even just the amount of people who have written books about laziness and anticapitalism (excluding you) and just saying the most contradictory shit ever?? or not following their own ideology???

Anyway, I wonder if, when writing Laziness Does Not Exist, you came across any of this and were equally as baffled.

Materialism is just *so* true that high-status academics don't have a vested class interest in seeing their student struggles as legitimate or in recognizing the struggles of disabled people in general. For many edgy academic leftists having the correct opinions is just a way to flex one's intellectual status, not a lived experience they give a shit about. I'm not shitting Fisher in particular in saying this, it's more that it's a really widespread problem in the culture of these kinds of (very white, very academic, very cishet) leftists communities. You see the same kind of thing among some of the Chapo stan types, too, you don't have to be specifically an academic to do it -- lots of people throwing around the r-slur and flexing on how much they have read and doing fuck all for the oppressed people around them. I tend to find it especially common among people who inherited leftism from their (often academic) parents? Whereas leftist communities populated by Black & brown anarchists and working class people tend to fare a lot better in this particular respect.

Note that I'm not saying a person's identities are a guarantee of them being any more radical -- there's lots of liberals lurking in our midsts of all identities for instance -- more that someone's orientation toward power tells you a lot. and unfortunately there is an approach to leftism that puts a lot of stock in either institutional power via the academy, or in a kind of soft power of intellectual authoritativeness that tends to punish anyone who is supposedly less well read, less intelligent, lazy, needs disability accommodations, has trauma triggers, or what have you.

The simple answer is that power and privilege obscures other people's challenges from you, and the desire to preserve one's power (be it actually institutional academic authority or just the status of the person who supposedly knows the most in the room) leads to a lot of oppressive behavior. a lot of these guys that you're talking about believe in communism sincerely but they don't have humility, they believe themselves to be superior to most everyone else. and they tend to be white guys from wealthy families who either do not have any disabilities of their own, or they have the undiagnosed intj mastermind rational flavor of autism that makes you feel incredibly alienated from others but interpret that alienation as a sign of your intellectual superiority. (i had this type but i got better. a little)

[untildawnss]

Hii!! I love your ideas sm!!!

So how would the ud characters react to Reader getting hurt either during or after what happened on the mountain?? 🤭

oooh, during the events on the mountain is tricky because you have to basically rewrite the canon of the entire game to pull it off and i don't think i'm cut out for that. i was borderline agonising over this ask because i read it before going to bed and completely missed the "or after". i thought i'd have to disappoint you, anon. but i can do this. i am working hard and tap tap tapping away on my laptop.

i'm assuming you mean if they were dating the reader

i'm only going to do minor injury/pain scenarios

obviously excluding hannah and beth

going with the everyone lives ending as the premise

gn!reader and no use of y/n

ashley

(rollerblading queen ash is my favourite headcanon)

it was a nice day, just warm enough to be comfortable in a t-shirt and shorts. ashley had convinced you to go rollerblading after finding your old pair in your parents' basement during your last visit. you used to be pretty good at it but it had been ages. and here you were, slowly following ash who was looking back every now and then to make sure she hadn't accidentally left you too far behind. once in a while she slowed down and joined you for a few minutes and then sped back up, calling out to warn you of obstacles like potholes, roots or sticks from the trees along the street. your legs were beginning to feel heavy after an hour of this. "ash, i think i need a break." she gave you a thumbs up and came to a stop, way more graceful than you could hope to manage in a few seconds. in fact, you didn't manage to really stop. you accidentally shifted one of your feet just enough for your rollerblades to collide with each other, causing you to topple over and land on your hands and knees. the stinging pain suggested that you had scraped at least one of your knees on the rough asphalt. ashley giggled. "please tell me you're not proposing like this." you grinned at her. "what? i thought this was your dream."

you winced as you tried to get back up and your feet kept shifting and rolling, causing you to lose you balance all over again. so you leaned into it and turned until you were sitting on the ground. "oh no, you're bleeding." ashley crouched next to you and took off her backpack. she pulled out a first aid kit and a bottle of water. "oh, you're prepared." - "those are the rollerblading basics. okay, bend your knee a little. we need to clean that wound and it might sting a little." you bent you knee and ashley opened the water bottle and started squeezing it to flush the bits of asphalt out of your wound. she was right, it did sting. after that she wrapped a bandage around your knee. "all done. i can take another look at it when we get home. maybe i'll get you a lollipop if you're very brave."

chris

"i'm grabbing a beer, want anything?" you walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge, grabbing two cans of beer with one hand. you were 99% sure that chris would want one. the condensation made the beers slippery and you felt one can starting to slip out of your hand. you were too slow to catch it, one hand still on the door of the fridge and for some reason your brain decided to try to kick the can back up to catch it that way. well, it kinda worked. the can flew back up and over your head only to land on the floor and start fizzing. the horrible pain where your foot had made contact with the ridge on the bottom of the can made you see stars for a few seconds. you were off balance now, on one leg, the other trying to shake off the pain and almost collided with the fridge as you hopped around the room and tried to avoid the fizzing and spinning beer and the sticky puddles of foam. "hiding in the kitchen is not getting you out of watching that movie with me. i won fair and square," chris said in a sing-song voice as he poked his head into the kitchen a minute or two later. you were resting your head and arm on the kitchen counter, one leg pulled up to your chest, pressing the second, wonderfully cool, can of beer against your foot. "so, i clearly missed something. what's going on?" the can on the floor had stopped fizzing and spinning and was slowly leaking now. "i dropped a beer, i kicked the beer and i am in pain." - "but...why?"

chris had helped you hobble into the living room and to the couch and then returned to the kitchen to get rid of the evidence and to grab an icepack for your foot. now he was carefully removing your sock to assess the damage. a rounded bruise was already forming and you winced as chris poked and prodded at it and then at your other foot before finally placing the icepack on the reddish-purple area. "well, i'm no expert but i don't think it's broken. does it feel broken? can you move it?" you were trying to concentrate on the absolute bliss of the ice against the pulsing, painful and stiff area but reluctantly wiggled your toes and foot. you flinched. "i mean, yeah, i guess i can move it. it just hurts like hell. it's probably not broken but i won't be doing a lot of walking." chris grinned and you already started rolling your eyes. "oh, that's great news. that means you can't walk away from movie night and hide in the kitchen just because it's my turn to choose." - "chris, we've seen ratatouille four times in the last five months."

emily

you were trying to make lemonade but the lemons you were cutting and squeezing were not cooperating. when you looked at one more closely you almost dropped it and accidentally squeezed too hard to catch it, sending a few splashes of lemon juice right at your face and right into your eyes. "ah, fuck," you screamed as your eyes started burning. you heard emily walk into the kitchen. "are you fucking kidding me?" before you could rub your eyes she grabbed your wrists. "nope. don't rub it in. bad idea. just stay where you are for a second or you'll break your neck next." - "right, yeah, makes sense." you kept your eyes closed as emily scurried around the kitchen for a few seconds. you heard the ripping of paper towels and the bin open and close. your eyes were still burning. "alright, let's go." she took your hand and led you out of the kitchen and into the bathroom.

emily instructed you to lean your head over the bathtub and turn it to the side. she turned on the water. "open your eyes and keep them open." her voice was so commanding now that you were almost scared to talk back, so you just did what emily told you to do, even though it was painful. she aimed the showerhead at your face and you instinctively closed your eyes. "i said keep them open. did you skip all the relevant parts of chemistry? you need to keep your eyes open, so i can wash the acid out of your eyes. it doesn't work if you close your eyes, okay?" you opened your eyes again. "sorry, but it hurts." - "because you squeezed lemon juice into your eyes, dumbass. keep them open or you're on your own."

your eyes gradually stopped hurting less but emily insisted on doing what felt like the longest eyewash known to humankind, at least to you. after she was done, emily started drying off your face. "better?" - "yeah." - "okay, good, because i'm not doing that again."

jess

you probably should have remembered to put on sunscreen but you hadn't planned on spending too much time in the backyard and it had been slightly cloudy anyway. and you hadn't planned on falling asleep right there in the sun and only waking up when jess got home a while later and shook you awake. your entire backside felt like someone had rubbed glue on it that just wouldn't come off and you felt uncomfortable because you couldn't even sit down and you felt like you were burning up. jess used sunscreen religiously and, yeah, you'd never seen her get sunburnt. "don't say i told you so." you waddled around the house like a penguin as jess ushered you towards the bathroom and made you take a long and cold shower. "okay, i'm not going to say it. you already know i did." the cool water felt amazing on your skin and you felt like you could stay in there for hours. when you got out jess was there to softly dab at the skin on your back with a towel to dry you off, just telling you about a new movie she'd like to go and see with you when it comes out or the stupid joke one of her coworkers told that really wasn't well received. but you knew, oh, you knew.

jess applied aloe vera lotion for you, brought you water and painkillers so you were more comfortable and just kept talking about anything and everything and you responded in kind. it wasn't unpleasant or weird, really, but not completely normal. on day three you woke up to a bottle of sunscreen on your bedside table. jess had already gotten up and moving wasn't as uncomfortable anymore. you grabbed the sunscreen and walked into the living room. jess was on the couch, a cup of coffee in one hand and flipping through a magazine with the other. "fine." jess looked up at you. "fine what?" - "you told me so," you sighed. "yes, i told you so. and how many times did i tell you? i got you your own sunscreen and you are going to use it. because if you don't, i will not play nurse next time. you're lucky i got home when i did because that could have become a second-degree sunburn and that is so much worse. there's coffee in the kitchen. love you." jess took another sip from her mug and smiled at you. "love you, too." and she was back to flipping through her magazine.

josh

(i feel like josh would be very afraid of hurting people again and also afraid that he hurt them if something happened)

you woke up because you were falling. actually falling, out of bed, not in a dream. one of your legs was still half in bed and you heard a scraping sound above your head. as you tried to get your bearings and rub your eyes the scraping became louder and you noticed too late that one of your arms was tangled in a cord. the little alarm clock on your bedside table landed square on your face and then clattered to the floor next to your head. you yelped at the pain that erupted from your nose and the top row of your teeth. you could taste blood on the back of your tongue. josh's soft snoring stopped and your heard him quietly mutter your name and, what you assumed, was his hand feeling around the bed for your body. "down here," you groaned and your voice sounded thick and nasal. you were pretty sure you had a nosebleed. "what do you mean 'down here'?" josh's voice was louder now and the room turned lighter as he turned on the lamp on his side of the bed. you shifted into a sitting position, the pain pulsing through your head, and could definitely feel the uncomfortable sensation of the nosebleed now. josh's face appeared above you as he rolled over to your side of the bed. his eyes were half closed but widened when he saw the state you were in. "what the fuck?" he climbed out of bed. "i'll get some tissues." there was a hint of panic in his voice.

when he got back you pressed the bundle of tissues to the bottom of your nose. "how do you stop a nosebleed?" - "i don't know, i've never had one before." - "okay, okay, i'll google it." he grabbed his phone and started typing. "can you walk?" you nodded and let josh pull you to your feet and lead you into the kitchen where he sat you down at the table. he started reading you the instructions on his phone screen. "lean forward, pinch your nose for 10 to 15 minutes." he rummaged through a cupboard and set a bowl in front of you. "spit out any blood and-" josh opened the freezer, grabbed a bag of frozen strawberries and wrapped it in a towel. "put ice on the back of the neck." you jumped at the sudden cold sensation. "sorry." - "josh, calm down, it's just a nosebleed." you patted the chair next to you and josh sat down. "i just don't do well with people getting hurt around me." he'd told you about blackwood mountain before. and the role he played that night. "my alarm clock fell on my face. it wasn't you, josh." - "oh, okay, good. it wasn't me."

matt

you were holding the nail you were planning on using to hang a picture frame between your fingers and squinted to line up the hammer you were holding in your other hand, weighing it back and forth and left and right to make sure you'd hit the nail dead on. you did but you swung the hammer with enough force to drive the nail far enough into the wall that you hit your fingers anyway, hard. "ow, fuck, dammit," you swore loudly, letting go of the hammer that promptly hit the ground with a loud thump. you clutched your hand to your chest as your fingertips throbbed painfully. matt came running into the room and you felt tears welling up in your eyes as your fingers started to feel like they were swelling and burning and ready to burst. "what's going on? what happened? are you hurt?" his brow was furrowed in worry and he grabbed you by your shoulders to stop you turning and turning to distract yourself from the pain. you were huffing and puffing and through gritted teeth managed to utter "hammer, fingers, ow." matt grimaced. "ouch! i'll go get you an ice pack or something."

he was back in the blink of an eye and carefully pulled your hand towards him to place the ice pack on your injured fingers. you winced at the cold but the pain started to slowly subside. "sorry, did that hurt?" you shook your head. "no, just cold." matt grinned at you. "okay. so, you wanna leave the home improvement to me from now on?" you snorted with laughter. "that's a hard no, i like my house inhabitable." matt laughed along with you. "fair enough. made you laugh, though."

mike

(please, i just think it's extremely funny to assume that mike had to cut off his own fingers for this scenario)

you and mike were both standing in the kitchen. he was washing the dishes and you had just finished peeling the potatoes and were now starting to cut them up into smaller pieces. you were humming and swaying along to the music playing from the speaker and occasionally pausing to take a sip from your glass of wine. surely there was such a thing as rules for handling a knife but you were having way too much fun with mike to mind that right now, especially when he started singing along to one of your favourite love songs. it was all sidelong glances and smiles until you got too careless and forgot to reposition your finger, cutting right into it with the knife. "ow," you hissed at the sudden pain and looked down at the small wound that was bleeding more than you thought should be allowed.

mike dropped the plate he had been scrubbing and was by your side in a heartbeat. he gently reached around you to move the knife away from the edge of the counter. "i'm taking this from you. you just lost knife privileges." you had started sucking on the wound to get rid of the stinging sensation. "would you stop doing that?" he steered you towards the sink. "just rinse it with clean and cold water. i'm getting the first aid kit." when he returned, mike took a quick look at the cut and decided that it wasn't deep enough to warrant stitches. "alright, let's get back to it." you were about to get up when mike pushed you back into the chair. "oh, absolutely not. we're not losing any more fingers in this house."

sam

(yes, sam has a dog. he can be whatever breed you want him to be but he exists)

you and sam were playing with sam's dog max, throwing different toys for him to fetch and chasing each other and max across the sprawling backyard and around the trees and shed. it was a sunny day and soon you were out of breath and feeling very warm, so you slowed down to catch your breath and make your way towards the house to get a drink from the fridge. you turned around to ask sam if she wanted anything just in time to see max still barrelling towards you at full speed. a split second later he was running between your legs and you lost your balance. your back hit the ground hard, knocking the wind out of you and you closed your eyes as max began licking your face. "oof."

you could hear the muffled thudding of sam's footsteps on the grass as she came running over. she called your name. "oh my god, are you okay? max, sit!" sam kneeled on the ground next to you as you groaned. "i think so." you pushed yourself up on your elbows and squinted at sam. "i might be a little sore tomorrow." she looked back at you, one eyebrow raised. "are you sure?" you nodded and she got back to her feet, offering you her hands to pull you up. "tell me if it gets worse, okay?" she whistled and max started following you towards the house. "ooh, if i tell you i'm in soo much pain does that mean i don't have to do the dishes later?" sam rolled her eyes at you and clicked her tongue but she was smiling. "oh, very funny. now i just won't believe you."