#if i got something wrong please let me know

[giannaln4]

Sorry Won't Fix This

lando norris x fem reader

summary: Lando makes the biggest mistake of his life, bigger than any apology, and you both hoped there was a way to fix it. Unfortunately, you both wished it at different times. (5.5k words)

warnings: angst, cheating, mentions of sex, manipulation, mede up characters, use of Y/N

a/n: I FINALLY WROTE MORE ANGST! This is a long one and I held nothing back. I really did try to make it as hurtful and dramatic as possible and ngl I was inspired by 'Don't worry darling' for a tiny part of this (you'll know when you read it) but anyway, this one does NOT have a happy ending so please let me know what you think!

Check out the original request here!

↺ back to navigation — send me a request!

You had a terrible feeling, but you were too scared to look into it, terrified you would be right. 

Truth is, you started feeling like that just a few weeks ago, when you went back to Lando’s apartment to surprise him with lunch and found an empty room and the bed unmade from somebody sleeping on it. Any other day that would’ve been completely normal, but you had stayed with him the night before and made the bed as soon as you both got up to get ready for your separate plans for the day, leaving a perfectly made bed to come back to. 

Before that day, you would’ve never in a million years thought that Lando would cheat on you. He had always been so loving and caring, even before you started dating, and once you officially became a thing, he would constantly remind you how much he loved you, and on special days he was the most romantic person ever, and you always thought that you would spend the rest of your life with him, but now... you didn’t want to think about it, but you couldn’t bury the thought of him with someone else after it crossed your mind briefly while looking at the messy bed.

Later that night you asked him about it, trying hard not to sound like you were accusing him of something, but his excuse just made you feel worse, your suspicions growing.

“What do you mean?” He asked as he inspected his bed, unsure of what was wrong with it. 

“Well, you know, I made the bed this morning before we left, remember?”

“Oh, uh- yeah, I came back to- to take a nap,” he stuttered, not even looking at you. 

But it kept happening, a few more times.

Things started to change after that; he cancelled the plans you made for when he came back home, he suddenly was too busy every day and your presence might be a distraction for all the things he had to get done for the next race, he was so tired at night he didn’t have the energy for anything, and he even asked you to go back to sleep in your own apartment, claiming he just needed to sleep on his own to be comfortable, even though you were used to sleeping together.

Long story short, he was distant; he was never around anymore, and even when he was, you felt like you were missing him. He was just... different, and you were beating herself up wondering what had changed.

He, on the other hand, didn’t miss you, seeing he didn’t make an effort anymore and he could go days without answering a text or returning a call, ​​and it was not because you took a long time to reply; you would always respond in a heartbeat if it was him. If it weren’t for all the times you visited him at his apartment when a news outlet brought up that he was back in Monaco to make sure he was doing okay, you wouldn’t talk to each other at all.

But today you were feeling hopeful. It was your anniversary, and you had a date night planned — a date he didn’t cancel, so you took the entire afternoon to do your nails, your hair, and pick a beautiful dress to wear, his favourite dress. Your makeup took a while, but you still managed to be ready on time for the wonderful night you had ahead, so you made your way to him, your palms sweating when you knocked on the door.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” Was the first thing he asked, wiping her smile off of her face.

“I thought we would go out tonight,” you replied, looking down at your hands to hide your clear disappointment.

“Oh- I guess I forgot to tell you but I remembered I have an important meeting tomorrow morning, so I’m not gonna make it." The door was barely open, and he was standing where the crack was, blocking his apartment as he held the door with a strong grip.

“Okay,” your voice was so faint you barely heard it yourself. “Do you need anything? I could stay here for a couple of hours.”

“No, don’t worry about it. I think it’s better if you leave.”

Tears pricked your eyes, swallowing the small lump forming in your throat. “Why?”

“Well, I’m busy with a few things. You know, I have a really early day tomorrow, and you can’t really help me with a McLaren meeting, can you?”

You shook your head slowly “I guess I’m leaving then.”

The tears you had been holding started to fall as soon as you turned around; you could feel your mascara clumping on your eyelashes and forming black streaks down your cheeks, ruining the contour and highlight you applied in hopes of impressing your boyfriend. You ran back to your car and let it all out once you closed the door. You really thought things would be different tonight, but you were wrong.

You started driving to your best friend’s house, desperate to vent about how terrible your relationship was going since you had been keeping a secret from everyone; the last thing you needed was the media to get in the middle of this. 

“Oh my god, Y/N. Are you okay?” Mia asked you when she saw the mascara tears.

You shook your head as you stepped inside, small whimpers leaving your lips as you tried to stop the crying.

“What happened?” She took your hand and guided you to the couch.

“Lando.” 

“What about Lando?”

“I think he’s cheating on me." You had never said that out loud, and saying it broke your heart even more. “I wish I was crazy, but the signs... I know he is.”

“I’m not trying to defend him or anything, but what makes you think that?”

“Everything, Mia. He has been acting so... distant. Ever since-” You stopped yourself. You never told anyone your relationship with Lando wasn’t doing so well, making up excuses to cover his. You just wanted to hold on to everyone else’s idea of you two, thinking you were the perfect couple.

“What? Have you guys been fighting?”

You took a deep breath before saying, “Remember the last time I stayed over at his apartment?” She nodded in response, “Well, later that day I went back to surprise him with lunch, but he wasn’t there and the bed was a complete mess, and you know I always make the bed when I wake up. He said he went back to take a nap, but he was supposed to be with Carlos all morning, and it didn’t make sense he had time to come back, take a nap, and then leave again, so I asked Carlos, and they didn’t meet at all that day. Is that insane?”

"No, Y/N, of course not.” Mia didn’t know what to say; she wanted to comfort you but she didn’t know how. “And he’s been acting weird since then?”

You nodded, wiping your tears away. “Yeah, he’s been pushing me away since that day. Telling me he doesn’t have time because he’s so busy with the season, which I understand, but not even answering a couple of texts? And cancelling every date we had planned?”

“Is that what happened today? I thought it was your anniversary.”

“It is.” You were nibbling on your lip profusely, looking up so tears would stop falling. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do.”

“Have you told him how you feel?” You shook your head again; you hated confrontation, and you were hoping you didn’t have to do that. “I think you should go talk to him.”

“Right now?”

“If not now, then when? You say you’ve been feeling like something’s off for a while, but you haven’t said anything to him.”

“I don’t know Mia-”

“If he is cheating on you then you need to break up with him, you don’t deserve to be in that situation, and you deserve to know the truth.”

You inhaled as you considered what Mia just said. She was right, but to be completely honest, you weren’t ready yet. “I really want to know, but I can't.”

“Why not?”

“Because what if he is?” Tears started rolling down your face again, Mia hugging you tight as soon as it happened. “I love him, and... I just want things to go back to normal.”

“I know you do, but believe me, it’s better if you know.”

You stayed there for a while, but ultimately decided to go talk to him, but you needed to put yourself back together before confronting him. Mia helped you to wash your face and fix your hair, comforting you and offering to stay with you once the two of you were done talking. You accepted; you didn’t want to be alone, and Anne, your flatmate, had been going out of town a lot recently, so your apartment was empty, and you knew it’d be a long night.

Once you felt better and ready to talk to him, Mia drove you to his place as you repeated in your head everything you wanted to tell him. You knocked loudly and didn’t stop until he opened. He looked annoyed, and you stormed inside as soon as he opened the door.

“What are you doing?”

“We need to talk.”

“About what?” 

You blinked at him twice. Did he not think you needed to talk? “About us, Lando. What’s going on?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Okay, now you were mad. “Lando, you have been ignoring me for days, and I understand if you’re busy, but it doesn’t explain you pushing me away at all times.”

“I’m sorry if you feel that way.”

There was a moment of silence, both of you staring at each other as you tried to remember the questions you were supposed to ask, but none of them seemed to make sense now that you were standing in front of him “That’s all you’re gonna say?”

“What do you want me to say?” 

“How about you tell me exactly what’s going on?”

You were both raising your voices, but Lando especially. “I told you already, I’ve been busy with the season-”

“I could’ve stayed here with you or gone with you to races if that meant spending more time together, like we have done before.”

“But why would you want to do that?”

“To keep you company, maybe?” 

“But all you do is stand around while I do my job.”

“Lando, do you know how many weeks I’ve spent away from home just so we can be together? And you don’t even care anymore, you didn’t even care to say thank you.”

“I never asked you to come,” he mumbled.

You scoffed before shaking your head. “I wanted to, you know I worry about you when you stress yourself out about a race, you tend to overwork yourself-”

“I. Never. Asked. You. To. Come." He interrupted you, his tone punctuated with each word. “I would’ve been fine without you, I don’t need you in my hair at all times." His eyes hardened, his mouth opening to speak again. “Don’t you have better things to do?”

“I just- I’m your girlfriend, I guess I thought you liked to be with me.”

“I do, but you don’t have to be so clingy all the time.”

You didn’t say anything, hoping you heard it wrong or that he’d apologise, but he didn't. “What?”

“You know, we do everything together and-”

“No, we used to do things together, not everything." You corrected him.

He took a deep breath, as if he was done dealing with you. “Right. Look, I’m tired, we can talk tomorrow.”

You nodded, holding back the tears as you walked towards the door. “Happy anniversary,” you said before slamming it closed and running back to Mia’s car.

Lando sat on his couch with his head between his hands for a moment. How could he forget? He took a deep breath as he got up, looking for a ribbon and a gift he bought for you who knows how long ago.

He made his way to Mia’s flat; he assumed you would be there, and your car parked outside confirmed his suspicions, so he knocked on the door a couple of times before saying, “Baby, I’m sorry. I was caught up in all the things I have to do before leaving, and I didn’t realise what day it was." But he got no response. “Y/N please, I know you’re here. Will you please talk to me?”

“Go away, Lando.” Mia was the one to yell, making Lando realise he would not be able to fix it, not tonight anyway. 

“Okay, I’m leaving this here. I- I love you.”

You called in sick for your job the next day, your sore eyes and pounding headache being the only things you could think about. Well, that and Lando.

You were staring at the gift he bought for your one-year anniversary — what you were supposed to celebrate the day before. It was beautiful, and you couldn’t believe he remembered you mentioning it on one of your first dates ever, but it was the letter inside that broke your heart. It looked... unfinished, like he didn’t even care enough to give it a proper ending, so you were wondering how long ago he stopped working on it.

The days after that were rough, long nights of wondering what you could have possibly done wrong, but even then you didn’t talk to him. He tried to, a couple of times, but you needed a little bit of time.

A couple of weeks went by, and you found yourself alone at your apartment, catching up on the work you missed for calling in sick so many times.

It was your birthday, and Mia insisted a million times you go out and celebrate, clear your head, and forget about Lando once in for all, but somehow it felt wrong; you had made plans with Lando a few months back to bring your family to a race so they could finally meet him, but obviously that wasn’t happening anymore, so what was the point of celebrating? You just needed to focus and get things done anyway.

You were thankful that Mia had been for you through it all; you really were, but sometimes crying alone did more for you than having someone tell you ‘everything's gonna be okay.' You were tired of hearing that.

Hours later, you found yourself with a cup of coffee to finally catch up on the last project. It wasn’t really that much of a workload, and you didn’t need to stay up all night to do that, but you were going to anyway. Perhaps you just wanted to be productive, or maybe that was you trying to occupy your mind from the possibility of your boyfriend cheating on you.

You looked at the clock; it was 11:30 PM. You sighed, typing away whatever you were supposed to on your laptop, your eyes sore from staring at it for too long, when a text message interrupted you.

Unknown [Attachment: 1 photo]

Unknown: I heard they have been at it for a while.

That text message induced such a great shock on your tired, worn-out body, tears falling down your face as soon as you read it. You didn’t want to open it as you were sure of what this was about, but your curiosity got the best of you.

Tapping on the notification, you prepared yourself mentally to confirm your terrible suspicions. And they were confirmed.

Your vision was blurry from the tears, but you were able to see Lando standing next to his new Ferrari, and he was with someone else, except you couldn’t see who it was, the big jacket and a beanie protecting her identity. He was smiling down at her, eyes full of... love? Those green eyes you thought he reserved for you only, but clearly you were wrong. His big hands were around her waist as hers went around his neck, and his lips were stained with lipstick.

You broke down crying, curled up on your bed as you wore one of Lando’s hoodies that still smelt like him. You now knew what the truth was, but you didn’t want to accept it. What happened to you two? When did he stop loving you?

It was like your heart was ripped from your chest; all that time you spent together down the drain like it was nothing, like it all meant nothing to him.

You didn’t know for how long you cried the night before, but it was now 1 PM and you were just waking up, so you probably cried for hours. There was nothing left you could do to save your relationship, so you made up your mind to break up with him as soon as he came back from the American triple header.

Y/N: We need to talk, just let me know when you’re here.

The message was left unanswered, as usual. You rolled your eyes and put your phone down, returning to your video call with Mia.

“Do you know who that is?”

“No, sorry.” 

You sighed as you sipped your hot coffee “What about the number? Do you know who sent the picture?”

“What’s the number? Maybe I can ask around to see if any of my friends know.”

You sent her the phone number, along with the picture of Lando and the other girl. “Thanks. Don’t show anyone that picture thought. I’m already embarrassed as it is.”

“Embarrassed? Y/N, he should be the embarrassed one, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Maybe I did-”

“No, stop doing that to yourself. We both know it’s not your fault.”

You nodded. “I can’t help it. I just don’t understand.”

“Understand what?”

“Was I not enough? Why did he need to find someone else?”

Mia hated to see you going through that, how you felt like you were not enough or that it all ended because of you, and she hated Lando for causing all of that. “I know it’s hard right now, but I promise you’ll understand that none of this is your fault. Y/N you’re amazing, and he’s an idiot for not realising.”

Talking to her made you feel better, but all those terrible emotions came back whenever you looked at the picture again, a million questions invading your mind. How long has he been doing this? Who is she? Does he still love you? What did you do wrong?

A couple of days later, Lando finally replied to your text.

Lando: Just got back. I’m in my apartment

Your heart sank at the notification; you didn’t want to talk to him; you didn’t want things to be over. There was still a part of you that hoped everything was just a misunderstanding, hoping he wasn’t cheating on you and she was just a friend. But deep down you knew the truth, and the possibility of it being a mix-up was down to zero, and after he made it clear that he didn’t want to be in a relationship with you anymore, you decided to fulfil his wishes.

It was a long drive to his home; it felt longer than usual, but maybe you were just dreading the conversation you knew was about to happen.

You took a deep breath before knocking on the door, Lando opening it almost right away.

"Hey,” he said faintly, worried he got caught.

“Hi.” You entered the apartment you once thought you would move into and looked around. You had been there a million times, and so many of those times were special little moments you shared together, but right now it felt like you were disconnected from the space. “How was the triple header?”

“Not great- I don’t know. It was messy, I guess." He tried to give you a smile but stopped himself when he noticed your stare full of fury. “What did you want to talk about?”

Seriously? “I’m breaking up with you." Your voice was weak, but you did not dare let a tear slip past your waterline; he didn’t deserve to see you cry. 

“What?” The shock in his eyes looked so real that you almost believed him “Why?”

“Did you really just ask that?”

“So that’s it? We’re over?”

“Lando, come on, we’ve been over for a while." You stepped closer to him, pain and anger written all over your face as the tears struggled to stay on your eyes. “We didn’t even feel like a couple anymore. Lando, you forgot our anniversary, and that day you made it clear you wanted nothing to do with me. And to think I planned a beautiful night for us and bought you a great gift. Do you have any idea how stupid I felt?” 

“I didn’t know you were feeling like that.”

“Of course not, when have you ever listened to me anyway?”

Lando rolled his eyes “Okay, I understand, but we don’t have to break up, I already explained what happened that day, I was busy and completely lost track of time.”

“And I guess she doesn’t have anything to do with this?” You showed him the picture, his demeanour changing immediately.

“Y/N, I- I’m sorry, baby, I’m so sorry." His eyes and his voice softened as he tried to reach for you, but you turned around and wiped the tears that managed to leave your eyes, a million questions flooding your mind again.

“So it’s true." You were just confirming to yourself what you already knew. Anger and pain washed over your body. Why her? Why her when you’ve been nothing but perfect to the man you loved the most?

“Baby, I can explain.” 

You turned around to face him again “Who is she?” He shook his head, his eyes begging you not to make him say it while yours watered, “Who is she?” You repeated.

“You don’t wanna know.”

“Why? Cause I might find out you’re cheating?”

A few tears started to roll down his face, his hands desperate to hold yours. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Cause you’re gonna hate me even more." You stared at him, even more tears falling as you tried to think who the girl could be. 

“Did you two- did you sleep with her?” His nod was barely perceptible; if you didn’t already know the answer, you would’ve missed it. Maybe he was right; maybe it’d be better if you didn’t know. 

“I’m sorry, baby, I’m so sorry.”

“Stop it.”

“I know I fucked up, but she doesn’t mean anything to me, I swear.”

“Shut up, Lando. I just… I don’t understand.”

“Let me explain-”

“And I don’t care how many times you apologise, how do you expect me to forgive you?” You took a couple of steps back, trying to figure out what caused him to do such a thing. “Even if we stayed together and got married and started a family, how can I ever look at you and not think about that?”

"Baby, I want all of that, I want the rest of my life with you, like we talked.”

“That was before you ruined everything.”

“I know what i did is wrong-”

“Wrong?”

“But we can work this out.”

“What? No, Lando, stop.”

“Just give me another chance, please.”

“Is that why you've been so distant, huh? Was she here on our anniversary?” Lando didn’t say anything, and the flashes from Lnado’s knuckles turning white from holding the door closed that night creeped your mind. Your heart ached so much that every time you breathed deeply, it was scorching you to the core “How could you do that?”

“I shouldn’t have done that, I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologising.”

“You know I didn’t mean it.”

“Just stop… god.”

“Y/N just hear me out, I swear it only happened once.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? I know that’s not true. Do you know how many times I came to an unmade bed? And how many excuses you made?” He stayed silent. “I don’t care how many times it happened, you still did it and nothing is gonna change that.”

“I know.”

“You’ve been hurt before, right? What if I was the one cheating? Would you just forget it ever happened and come back to me?” Once again, he didn’t say anything. “No. Of course you wouldn’t. Lando, how could I ever forget what you did? Or everything you said to me when we were fighting, and the fact that you lied and- and cheated-”

“But you came all the way here.”

“Because I care, and you... you never cared, you never tried-”

“I care, I care so much. Baby, please, you have to believe me." He tried to reach out to you, but you pushed his hand away.

"No, you don’t, and if I’m here, it’s because I know after this we’ll never see each other again, we’ll never talk again and this just has to end.”

“But I don’t want it to end.”

“Well, you ended it when you cheated on me.”

He stared at you for a moment before continuing. “But… I want you, she didn’t mean anything to  me." He approached you again, his hope growing a little when you didn’t stop him. He put a strand of hair behind your ear, softly brushing your cheek. “I know I fucked up but I can’t go on without you, I just can't.”

“Well you have, countless times while I was left in the dark wondering if I had done something wrong, crying myself to sleep when I couldn’t get a hold of you, Lando, and in the meantime you were with her.”

“I’m sorry-”

“And you have the nerve to say all that shit to me, acting like I was suffocating you when in reality I was trying to save us!” You pushed him away.

“I’m so sorry.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Y/N, I’m sorry, please let’s talk about it.”

“Fine, let’s talk about it. Was she worth it?” He shook his head, ready to leave his pride behind as he kneeled in front of you and grabbed one of your hands. “What are you doing? Stop.”

“I promise it was an accident, it won’t happen again.”

“An accident? Lando, are you hearing yourself right now?”

“Please, don’t let me go." The grip on your hand tightened, pulling you closer to him.

“Isn’t that what you wanted?” 

“No. I don’t want anyone else, I want you, Y/N”

“You don’t have to worry about me anymore.”

“But everything I said... I meant it, I love you Y/N and every second we’ve been together has meant everything to me. Baby, you have to understand.”

“Liar.”

“I’m not lying, you know I’m not." You pushed his hand away, rolling your eyes when another tear rolled down his face. “I know I don’t deserve it but please... just one more chance and I can fix this.”

“Give you a chance? I gave you a chance when I believed your excuses, when I forgave you for cancelling every date we had planned, when I tried to understand why you locked me out, and when I almost forgave you for forgetting our anniversary, I gave you so many fucking chances!”

“But I swear it wasn’t like that, she meant nothing.”

“You’re unbelievable… god, what are you saying?”

“Just think about how great we are together,” he said, trying to hold your torso, but once again you stopped him. 

“Lando, stop that.”

“We’re a great team, aren’t we? We understand each other so well, we know each other better than anyone else, god, I’ll do anything, I swear.”

“No, it’s not gonna work.”

“Yes it will, and I’ll make sure of that.”

“No.” You were having a hard time blocking out how much love you still had for him, but you weren’t forgiving him; there was no way.

“I swear I don’t want anyone else." He held your hands and started kissing them, his lips giving you a sense of home that you missed. "Y/N, please, I love you.” 

You nodded weakly as you started crying again.

“You know I love you and I would do anything for you." He continued kissing you, a few tears falling on your hands. “Do you still love me?”

“I love you... Lan-” You released one of your hands from his grip, squeezing your eyes shut and covering your face.

“See? It will work, we will make it work." You shook your head; you were feeling stupid for almost falling for that. "Baby, look at me, it’s going to be okay, I promise.”

A moment of silence fell into the room as you collected your thoughts again, and he just looked at you hopeful that he could get you back. “Who is she?” You dared to repeat the question as you looked at him again.

He didn’t say anything for a few seconds, his voice barely above a whisper when he finally answered. "Annie.”

Annie, your flatmate Annie. She had never met Lando before you, and she wasn’t interested in who he was when you first told her you started dating him, so you were the reason they knew each other for all those times he picked you up from your place, and even then you never considered them to be friends; they barely exchanged any words when they ran into each other. You felt betrayed on a whole new level, not only by Lando but by her too. You had lived with her for so long, literally since the day you moved to Monaco, so you thought of her as one of your closest friends; how could she do that? And these past weeks, when she had been mourning your relationship with Lando, she was there the whole time, and she knew exactly what was happening.

“How long?”

You were getting annoyed at how long it was taking him to answer your simple questions. “The day we went to meet my parents... I drove to your apartment to pick you up, but you weren’t there yet.”

“So you did it at my place?” It wasn’t really a question, and you felt even more disgusted at the thought of them in your own home.

“It was one moment of weakness.”

“One moment of weakness?” He nodded, his hands now holding on to your hips. “But it didn't stop there, did it?”

“I’m sorry.”

You swiped the tears away as you prepared to ask the question you had been asking yourself for weeks. “What does she give you that I can't?”

Lando shook his head quickly. “Nothing, you’re everything I could ever ask for.”

“Then why did you do that?”

He didn’t have an answer; he didn’t really know how it happened or why it kept going, but he couldn’t deny he was enjoying it before he got caught. “I don’t know." He whispered.

“Do you love her?”

“No, of course not. I love you." He was holding you tighter, convinced that if he held you long enough, you would want to stay.

“Oh my god, I’m so stupid.”

“You know it didn’t mean anything, it was a mistake-”

“Get your hands off me, I’m leaving,” you said as you tried to free yourself.

“Baby, please don’t leave, you have to hear me out.”

“Lando, let go. I don’t wanna be here." Your words struggled to come out from how much you were crying. 

“Please don’t, I don’t wanna let you go." He looked up at you, his eyes begging for forgiveness. “Let’s just talk about it, yeah? Let me explain.”

“Save it, Lando, it’s over.” 

“I’m sorry, I won’t do it again. This is obviously my fault, so I’ll do whatever it takes to get you to stay, just please, one more chance is all I’m asking for.” You finally freed yourself, and your only goal was to go back to your apartment and cry all your pain away. You turned around and headed to the door; his hand tried to come to stop you, but you flinched away. You couldn’t bear to hear another word from him. "Baby, please, I love you.”

You turned around to face him one last time, spotting Lando still on his knees in the middle of his living room. “So you’ve said, but how can you hurt someone you claim to love so much?” He was about to say something, but you didn’t wanna hear it. “There’s nothing you can do to get me to stay, you threw everything away.”

“I know, my love, but-”

“I’m gonna leave and you’re gonna stay here, just… leave me alone, I don’t ever wanna see you again.”

You exited the room, leaving Lando alone and a complete mess. He regretted what he did, and he wanted to think that if you would just give him a chance to explain himself, you’d forgive him. But he knew that would never be the case and that his mistake was bigger than any apology; you were right to leave him.

He stared at the door for too long, taking in every emotion he was feeling: remorse, anger, pain, agony... he just felt like life was being sucked out of his body because he ruined the most important part of it, and there’s no one to blame but himself.

[mimikittysblog]

The Princess

Pairing: Mafia! Husbands! Poly! Ateez x Fem! Wife! Reader

Genre: Angst, a good chunck of fluff, a HINT of smut (no actual sex scenes of the sorts but they’re quite sexual towards each other)

Synopsis: If ATZ were asked what their prized possession is, they wouldn’t say what you think. It isn’t the money, the cars, the jewels, the priceless paintings or anything of the sorts. As cheesy and unexpected as it sounds, they would answer each other. Now while on surface that is true, the reality of it is their most prized possession, their true treasure, the one they don’t even dare let people know they have in true fear of it getting taken away, is you. Their Princess. So what would happen when one night, you don’t come home?

Warnings: Kidnapping, major violence, implied sexual activity, death/murder (not of the major characters), alcohol consumption, Arson, MxM of course. So because of all of this please ⚠️MNDI⚠️ if I missed anything please let me know!

Word count: 5.3k words

A/N: It’s finally here!!! My goodness you guys loved that teaser 😭 I’m so grateful for all your enthusiasm! I hope this fic lives up to your expectations!! Happy reading!! Please tell me what you think! Likes, replies and reblogs are so appreciated!

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

On one side of the outskirts of town, there is this mansion belonging to a very interesting group of people. As of this moment throughout the gargantuan mansion, the sounds of fast paced footsteps can be heard. While loud or fast paced footsteps like these weren’t necessarily uncommon.

However somehow everyone who heard them deep down knew, something was wrong.

Suddenly said footsteps came to a stop as the sound of the door to the meeting room was opened.

Then the dreaded question was asked.

“My loves, have any of you seen or heard from Princess?”

Silence.

Just like that it became nothing but silence as all discussions of work seems to halt after hearing Yeosangs question.

“Is.. she not home yet?” Seonghwa asked softly.

“Well.. I can’t find her anywhere and she’s not answering her phone…”

“What?!” Wooyoung exclaimed as he quickly pulled out his phone and called her number.

Yunho took a glance to the clock on the wall and saw how late it was.

“It’s past her curfew. She knows she’s supposed to be home by now.”

“Forget that! She knows to always answer us. And she’s literally not answering us!” Wooyoung groans after the call goes unanswered.

“She’s just supposed to go shopping again!” Jongho exclaims.

The rest of the men in the room were silent. Frozen in fear and contemplation of what happened to you and where could you possibly be.

Suddenly they hear the front door open.

Believing its you, they wasted no time and quickly rushed down. However what they find are only your body guards, bloodied and bruised.

You?

Nowhere in sight.

At the sight of their bosses, your guards quickly got on their hands and knees. A position that screams begging for forgiveness.

“S-sirs! We’re sorry! So terribly sorry!! One second we were watching over her then the next we go-“

BANG

Hongjoong had no need for useless explanations or excuses.

His Princess was taken.

All he needs now is her back.

Mingi takes the gun from Hongjoongs hand and steps forward.

He kneels in front of one of the other guards and grabs him by the hair, positioning the gun under his chin.

“Where?”

“D-downtown! The alley near her favorite Chanel store!”

BANG

Jongho then takes the gun and aims it at the last guard.

“SIR! Please no forgive me!! I will find her! I will-“

BANG

Protecting you and making sure you come home safe was these guards only job. And yet they have failed.

Now they’ve lost you and to them there is no greater sin.

As Yunho is cleaning the blood off of Mingi’s face, Seonghwa turns to the maids and the henchmen stationed in the room. Clearly terrified as they’ve never seen their bosses so angry.

“Clean this up. We want this place spotless. Not a single trace of these sinners left behind. And get everyone to work. Find her. Check every corner. Turn every stone. Use any informant we have. Use any methods you can think of. Do what you must! And Find. Her. Now.”

With that they scrambled and quickly got to work.

Your husbands then left the room. Rage and determination emanating from their very being.

They will find you.

And those that took you will pay.

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

At another mansion on the other side of town, much smaller than the one he calls home, San is residing. He's currently on an undercover mission to get information they need to get rid of this nuisance of a mafia.

This other group wasn’t really a threat. No one was. However they’ve been getting on their nerves for far too long. So they intended to just wipe them out for their own comfort. Silently, quickly and deadly. Like they always do. Furthermore it’ll maybe also send a message to other groups to not pull the same stunts.

So once they got wind of how the head of the mafia likes collecting and having ‘toys' around no matter the gender they knew one of them had to play the part.

After careful consideration and discussion they agreed upon San.

No one was entirely happy with the idea. They hated the thought that San had to flaunt what was theirs and let another man touch him, possibly even kiss him.

However they knew their options to make this quick were very limited.

They all drew the line that San cannot sleep with him though. Not like San ever wanted to anyway. He would rather die before betraying his loves like that.

Thankfully San knew how to play his part well, where he was fun enough to keep around even if he had yet to sleep with the man. Plus he's too pretty of an eye candy to be let go anyway.

However he still needed to get this information quick, cause he knew he couldn't play celibate forever. The man will eventually want to force him to sleep with him.

So he needed to get out of there before that happens.

Currently San is in the living room in nothing but a fur coat and his boxers, as how the man requests all his toys to dress, with said man and the rest of his toys.

He's just drinking his whiskey as the man plays, wishing he was back home.

When suddenly the door was slammed opened and a girl was thrown to the ground.

"Sir, we've retrieved what you've asked for!"

One of the henchmen announced loudly.

San acted uninterested and nonchalant as he usually does until he glanced at and unfortunately recognized the poor girl on the ground.

..Princess..?

Why were you here??

How were you here???

You’re supposed to be safe at home with the rest!

“Ah yes. So this is ATZ’s precious treasure.” The man said with a shit eating grin causing the diamonds in his teeth to shine in the light.

He then got up and made his way to kneel in front of you. The man then grabbed your chin to make you look at him.

San almost lost it.

How dare his filthy hands touch his Princess?! So roughly at that.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Let go of me you piece of shit.” You growled at him.

“Ah ah.. is this the way you talk to the only one that can spare yo- UGH! Fucking bitch!”

Before he even finished his sentence you spat straight into his face.

In retaliation he gave you a hard slap, knocking you down.

There your eyes met San.

While to an outsider San seemed unbothered, you knew your husband. He was beyond mad. So mad that the devil himself wouldn’t dream of messing with him.

You, of course, knew of his mission. So you understood why he had to just sit there and act like he didn’t know you.

You weren’t even upset.

You missed him too much. It was such a sight to see him again.

Especially in the outfit he’s in.

So you only give him the tiniest comforting smile. Letting him know that you’re okay.

“Lock her up. ATZ will come and find her soon. They’ll make the deal to get her back. And soon I’ll be the most powerful.”

As you were being dragged away, your eyes only lingered on San.

San could only take another sip of his whiskey, with only one thought in his head.

Oh how wrong this man was.

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

“What do you mean you have no leads?!?” Mingi barked at the henchmen who gave him the update. Or lack there of.

“I’m sorry sir.. we’re still look-“

CRACK

“We don’t need your useless apologies. Get out there and FIND OUR WIFE. NOW!” Mingi didn’t even let him finish before hurling a heavy desk ornament straight towards his head and yelling at him again.

Bleeding from the head but grateful it wasn’t from a bullet hole, the henchmen hurriedly staggered over to give Mingi, Yeosang, and Wooyoung each a kiss on their rings that dawn their middle finger. Once the obligatory task of showing respect was done he left the room to continue searching for the lady of the household.

The room fell silent again as Mingi walks over to the big portrait of his husbands and you right in the middle. Smiling so wide and beautifully. He’d do anything to make sure that smile stays forever on your face and for him to always see it.

All of them would.

You’ve only been missing for less than 24 hours yet that’s longer than any of you have been apart these past few years without reason. Along with the fact that they knew you were taken forcibly, unease would be an understatement to describe what Mingi and the rest of them are feeling.

Then after a sigh, Wooyoung reached over and rung a bell that was on the desk. Which caused a maid with a tray of glasses and Wooyoung’s favorite bottle of liquor to enter.

Wooyoung took the bottle, disregarding the glasses and took a swig.

“Have we heard back from San? He needs to come home now. I already hated that he had to do this. Now with Princess gone, I need to know that he’s safe too. And I’m sure he’d also want to find her.” Wooyoung rambled, jittery due to the present status of his lovers are up in the air.

“We just sent the message to him. He’ll respond soon.” Yeosang sighed, trying to reassure him by also softly grabbing his hand. However he also then poured himself some of the liquor and took a sip.

Suddenly a rushed knock on the door was heard.

“Come in!” Mingi yelled.

“Sirs! A message from Sir San!” A different henchmen hurriedly walked in and dropped a small note on the table.

“Good. Now leave.” Wooyoung said.

The henchmen nodded, also kissing the rings on their fingers before leaving.

Yeosang then took the note. It was only two words but it caused him to jump up from his seat. He bellowed for whoever was nearby to come in.

“Get Captain! We need to leave now!!” He ordered firmly.

“What?! What did he say?!” Wooyoung asked also jumping up.

‘Causing Mingi to also step forward curiously.

Yeosang merely had to show them the note for them to understand.

‘She’s here.’

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

Locked away in a small and quite frankly ugly room is currently where you are. Truth be told?

You’re just bored.

You wanted to go home.

Thats all.

You knew the second you were taken your husbands will bring upon hell on earth. So you’re just waiting for that to happen.

You’re not sure how they were able to figure out you were their wife in the first place though. Someone on your staff must’ve snitched. Well you can deal with them later.

Right now they just need to hurry and pick you up.

Ugh you bought such a pretty new dress to show off to them…

It’s probably ruined in that dingy disgusting alley by now.

Shame.

A loud thud can suddenly be heard outside of your locked door and it caused your heart to race. Soon the door unlocked to reveal the beauty that is Choi San.

“Sannie!!” You chirped excitedly.

You leaped from the bed only to be pulled back.

“Ugh! Stupid handcuff.” You grumbled. Completely forgetting it was there.

“Oh Princess!!” San said as he made his way to you in a flash, quickly uncuffing you. With a key you’re not so sure where he got it from. A knocked out guard possibly. No matter though.

As now with your arms free you can finally engulf your husband in a big hug once again.

“Oh my sweet darling! What happened?? How are you here???” He asked as he pulled away and checked every inch of you to see where you were hurt.

“I’m not sure my Sannie. One minute I was walking to the car then the next thing I knew these big oafs grabbed me and dragged me here. I’m fine though love! I promise! Minor bruises and scratches is all..” You explained and try to reassure him.

You knew it was in vain though as even a microscopic scratch on you will cause any of your husbands to go on a rampage.

The fact your old butler is now six feet under for giving you a small cut is proof enough.

“Princess.. you’re clearly hurt…” San said with a sigh. “We’re so sorry.. This should’ve never happened.” He apologized softly stroking the bruise on your cheek.

“Hush now my love. You know there’s only one way I could ever possibly be considered hurt. And that is if anything were to ever happen to my precious husbands. Only then. Will I ever consider myself harmed.” Pure love and sincerity lacing your voice.

A voice San truly does miss. It’s been weeks since he’s home. Oh how he misses it.

“Well it’s good to know the feeling is mutual darling. As seeing these bruises and scuffs on your precious skin brings me nothing but great agony and ignites a fire in me like no other.” He explained as he kisses each visible blemish and cut.

“Don’t worry Princess. The others will be here very soon alright? Just sit tight. I need to get back to work to avenge you darling.” Once finished with his reassurance that your husbands are on their way, he finally gives you a kiss you’ve been craving ever since he left the comforts of your home.

“Okay my love. Though do be quick. I’m awfully bored. Oh and by the way..” You start as you softly trail your hand down his chiseled body. “You should start dressing like this at home. I’m sure the others would also very much enjoy it!” You giggle as your hand made it to his crotch. Cupping it.

Oh you missed the little twitch it does so much.

“Ah yes, hmm your wish is forever my command Princess.” He replies with a chuckle. He then takes your hand and kisses the wedding band on your finger softly.

“I love you Princess. I’ll be back.”

“I love you too.”

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

“Ah yes. Mr. Jeong. Welcome to my humble abode! I see my offer finally has caught your eye.”

Yunho doesn’t bother to reply before walking in.

“My, how rude you are. But very well. I’m sure you’re uneasy as.. something is missing.” The man then continues to taunt with a smirk.

Yunho’s face remains stoic, however his fist clenches a bit tighter.

“I have no time for your games.” Yunho simply states before letting himself into the mans office. Yunho then sits down and tells the man to do the same. “State exactly what it is you want. We’ll talk from there.”

The man lets out a scoff before sitting down across from him.

He then claps his hand which causes a very familiar man to walk in to bring in a tray of drinks.

“Thank you San.” The man says in a smirk, once again causing the diamonds in his mouth to shine.

San simply ignores him.

No longer seeing the need to act accordingly.

As San makes his way to leave, he gets stopped by a hand on his exposed abdomen.

“Excuse me. I don’t believe I’ve given you permission to touch my lovely toys.” The man warns Yunho.

Who is simply admiring his husband.

“Hmm… well, ‘your toy.’ Is quite the specimen I must say. Can’t seem to help myself.” Yunho says with a smirk towards San, running his hand up and down his body.

Oh lord how much they’ve missed each other’s touch.

With San’s back facing the man, he can’t see the smirk that San reciprocates to Yunho. Yunho lets out a soft chuckle before taking San’s hand and kissing his ring finger. That was unfortunately currently empty.

“Leave San.” The man growls.

San does. But not before softly grazing his fingers across Yunho’s broad shoulders.

“Odd.. he usually never lets anyone else touch him…” the man mumbles to himself softly. Too stupid to realize what’s going on.

“So you’ve stolen our Princess. Due to that you expect us to work with you. Is that it?” Yunho finally cuts to the chase.

“Well you’d do anything to get her back wouldn’t you?” The man replies cockily.

“Naturally.”

“Well then work with me. Then I’ll set her free. Simple!”

CRASH

“You’re a bigger idiot than we thought.”

Suddenly the sounds of bullets firing, screams and yells can be heard throughout the mansion.

The man, the coward he truly is, instinctively hides under the desk at all the noise. However that desks gets thrown off of him, revealing Yunho standing above him. Gun aimed straight to his forehead.

“Run.”

Without a second thought he books it out of the room. Only to be met with the bodies of his henchmen, maids and toys scattered about. Blood coating the walls and floors. He was frozen in shock. That is before a bullet goes flying near his head grazing his ear.

“AH!”

“I said. Run.”

The man once again runs, but also stupidly tries his luck and pulls out his own gun. Before he could even aim at Yunho, his gun was shot out of his hand.

“The more you try to survive. The less likely it’ll be the case. So when my husband tells you to run. You run.” Jongho simply states standing in the living room. Surrounded by dead bodies, shattered chandeliers, ruined paintings, and mangled musical instruments.

While he was devastated at the state of his fortune he was thankfully still smart enough to value his life more. So he began to rush again.

He thought that maybe he could take the shortcut that leads to his garage through his dining room. So thats where his running legs took him as bullets were still flying everywhere. So much so that he can’t tell which came from his own men and which came from ATZ.

As he made it into the dining room he was only met with the sight of his most precious car on top of his dining table.

“Oh? Were you planning on escaping with this? Hmm. That doesn’t seem possible now does it?” Seonghwa taunts while sitting on the roof of the car.

“All this over some girl?!?!” The man roars enraged of what has become of his hard work.

Seonghwa’s expression hardens in the blink of an eye. Without another word he stands and pulls out his gun then starts shooting at the man without mercy.

The man realizes his mistake too late and gets shot in the shoulder and grazed on the thigh. However the adrenaline pumping through his veins was still enough to have him dashing out of the room.

He no longer has a plan and getting slightly dazed from the blood he’s losing, he’s just trying to get out of there. He opens the nearest door to him hoping it’ll lead to an exit.

Unfortunately for him, once again he’s met with a horrible sight and sound.

“Ah! You’ve finally come to play!” Yeosang says with a smile laced with venom.

What the man has stumbled into is his indoor tennis courtroom. Where currently Yeosang and Yunho have gathered a bunch of his henchmen, somehow tied up their upper bodies, and made them into moving targets for their tennis practice.

Many of his henchmen had succumbed to their injuries and their blood has splattered and painted the walls, floor and ceiling.

Frozen in shock due to the gruesome display, Yunho took the opportunity to serve and strike a tennis ball straight to the mans face.

“Wonderful shot my love!!” Yeosang cheers.

“Your turn handsome.”

Yeosang then wastes no time before doing the same and hitting the man right on the crotch.

“Oops wasn’t aiming for that but I’ll take it.”

“I would say you got a higher score than me.” Yunho chuckles.

This man still doesn’t give up however.

Not like the boys wanted him too anyway. They always loved a challenge and this man hasn’t even payed a fraction of his sins.

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

After hearing the commotion thats happening outside your ugly holding room, you knew it only meant one thing.

Your lovely husbands are finally here to pick you up.

While the man that thought he could have his way by kidnapping you was being dealt with, the door to your room opened revealing your knights in shining armor.

Oh my! They look absolutely gorgeous in their suits.

If circumstances were any different you would’ve happily have them take you right then and there.

“My loves!!!” You screeched happily and skipped your way over to them.

“Oh Princess!!!” Wooyoung exclaimed happily as he wrapped you up in his arms.

Seonghwa and Jongho doing the same.

“Are you hurt Princess??” Seonghwa asked worriedly. “Oh my you are! Oh we’re so sorry darling…” Seonghwa didn’t even let you answer.

“My loves I’m fine! I promise I’m fine! I have you here, I’m alright. Where are the others..?” You ask with a pout.

“Oh they’re dealing with pests right now Princess don’t worry. It won’t take them too long.” Jongho says with a soft comforting smile.

“Hmm alright.. are you three taking me home?”

“Yes we are darling! Come no- goodness! what an ugly room they kept you in!! Our Princess doesn’t deserve this?!” Wooyoung then exclaims when finally taking notice of the room. Genuinely upset that you were kept in such an ugly room.

“I know right?! It’s so tacky!!” You say with an eyeroll. Seonghwa and Jongho can only chuckle at your antics.

The three of them then safely brought you outside. Where you were met with Hongjoong waiting patiently on the hood of the limousine.

Also looking immensely good. As in ‘please fuck me right now’ levels of good.

Alas.

Circumstances didn’t allow it.

“Joongie!!!” You exclaim happily as you sprint to him.

Hongjoong quickly opens his arms for you. You jump into his arms as he picks you up and spins you around.

“Oh our Princess.. we were so worried. We’re so glad you’re okay!” Hongjoong sighs in relief.

“Of course I’m okay! You’re my husbands! Nothing will ever harm me!” You say with your gorgeous smile.

“You were taken sweetie.. We’re oh so sorry…”

“Oh enough with your apologies! I’m fine! I promise I’m fine! It seems like you guys constantly forget my vows! Now that hurts! You know I’m only ever hurt when you guys are!” You remind them.

“Well the bruises on your sweet body may not hurt you but they do hurt us sweetie. So that makes it hurt you!” Wooyoung explains going off your logic.

“Alright smarty pants!” You huff.

“Besides! You all bruise me constantly! Do you not?” You tease.

“Those are different love.” Seonghwa says with a knowing glance and grin. Stepping closer to you.

“You know that very well. Any bruising or scratches done to your skin that is caused by us is all because you wished for it. Done specifically for your pleasure.” Jongho says as he leans forward as well to kisses a certain spot under your jaw.

You quickly bit your lip to suppress the moan bubbling up your throat.

Once Jongho pulls away, and you’ve calmed down, you look at all of them properly and smile.

“In all seriousness I’m fine my loves. I really am. You’re here now. You saved me. Like I knew you would. What happened to me was not because of you. Someone betrayed us that I’m sure of and we can deal with that later. Now can you all just take me home?”

“Very well our sweet.” Seonghwa says with a smile as he steps forward to kiss the crown of your head.

As you were about to enter the car you noticed Hongjoong still just standing there.

“My love? Are you not coming with?” You ask.

“Not yet Princess. I need to watch over and there are things I must do. Go home with the others. We’ll be home soon.” He informs with a smile.

“Hmm very well… Don’t take too long though! Tell that to the others too! I miss my husbands!!” You grumble.

“And we miss you. No worries. Being away from you after everything that has happened aches me as much as you.”

“Hmm alright. See you soon my beloved.”

With a final flying kiss goodbye, you enter the car with the rest. You all then drive off as Hongjoong turns around and looks at the mess he intends to finish.

Back in what was once a mansion, with the help of his henchmen that are still abled bodied and loyal to him. The man that caused all of this is executing a plan of escape.

They were finally able to sneak past all of the chaos that was still happening, to the last functioning escape car they know of.

Or so they thought.

Before they could even start the car. That wouldn’t have worked anyway.

They noticed San standing in front of it.

With an expression none of them have ever seen.

“San..?” The man questions as he thought San would’ve been killed as well.

San without even thinking twice, pulls out his own gun and shoots the very last henchmen he had, dead.

Merely as second after their bodies slumped over, a fist slammed into the window of the mans side, cracking it.

“Get out.”

Laughed.

The man laughed.

Thats the only thing he can do in this situation.

Incredibly bloodied, bruised and broken.

With everything he had worked for.

Gone. In less than a 12 hours.

All because he thought he could kidnap you and get away with it.

He then finally got out and stood in front of Mingi.

Where Mingi happily grabbed him by the back of the collar and dragged him to the front of the mansion. Here he threw him down in front of the feet of his lovers that had stayed behind. Their sea of henchmen standing behind them.

Before Hongjoong even acknowledged him, he turned to San. Admiring his body that he missed as much as the others but then clicks his tongue. He grabbed the fur coat San was still wearing then asked.

“He gave you this?”

San simply nodded.

Scoffing he tugs on it more, silently telling San to take it off as he takes his own off.

“No husband of mine will wear such a cheap and ugly fur coat like this any longer.” He complains as he puts his coat on San.

Thankfully he wore the big sized one today. It fits San perfectly.

“H-husband..?”

“Yes. Husband.” Hongjoong replies still admiring San but now also running his hand up and down his body.

Now these are the touches San’s been craving for all these weeks.

“Oh which reminds me!” Yeosang exclaims before pulling out a familiar gold band.

Seeing this causes a huge smile to appear on San’s face and his eyes to light up.

As he did many years ago, Yeosang took San’s hand and slipped his wedding ring back right where it belongs. Kissing it to seal the deal.

“Hmm. Much better. Oh also! You should start dressing like this at home.” The smirk never leaving Hongjoong as he says it.

“I agree.” Mingi states.

The other lovers humming in agreement.

San could only chuckle.

“Princess said the same thing.”

“Well we must make it happen then.” Yunho said with a wide cheeky smile.

“What the fuck is going on?!”

Oh they forgot he was there-

“You really did mess with the wrong people you stupid man.” Yeosang sighs bored of the man already.

“I have a name?!”

“We clearly don’t care. And it clearly won’t matter anymore.” Mingi says with an eyeroll as he flicks open a lighter.

“So this is it? You’re gonna set me on fire?”

“Yes.” San says.

The mans eyes shot wide. Somehow not expecting the blunt answer.

“Not before you watch everything you have burn of course.” Hongjoong says as Mingi throws the lighter behind the man.

The lighter then lands in a trail of gasoline that leads to mangled furniture and fortunes that are strewn about, before leading to the actual mansion.

It doesn’t take long until everything goes up in flames.

The man watches in agony as everything. Everything. Burns. He then turns to the men and curses.

“You’ve taken everything.. literally everything. Must you really kill me too?” The man asks somehow still trying to make it out of this alive.

“I won’t bother you again… I’ll just vanish. Live a quiet life please. You won’t gain anything from killing me. You got her back!!!” He bargains.

SMACK

“Don’t even think about mentioning her again. No. Don’t even think about her. Your mind is not worthy to have her in it.” Hongjoong says after slapping him straight across the face.

“You’re right though. We won’t gain anything from your death. We won’t even gain satisfaction.” Yunho starts.

“However. We’re merely just punishing sinners.” Yeosang continues.

“Before you even bother. No. You haven’t suffered enough. Not even close. But we could’ve done much more. So consider yourself lucky. As of now at least. As we’re sure in hell you’ll suffer even more for what you’ve done.” Mingi adds with a gleaming smirk.

“You took our Princess. Your greatest sin and stupidest mistake. So for that. You must pay the price.” San explains further.

“To put it simply. You gotta die.” Hongjoong finishes as he steps forward and grabs the mans collar.

“‘Cause you being alive is still a sin in itself. Why? Well... you’re still breathing her air.”

And with that, Hongjoong merely gives him one last shove. Making the man fall back into the flames.

His screams of suffering can be heard for miles. However due to his extensive injuries it didn’t take long for said screams to just stop. Leaving nothing but the melody of crackling fire in the air.

Once that happened, Hongjoong lazily chucked in San’s old fur coat into the flames as well. Coincidentally the coat landed perfectly on the mans, now charred, body. This action actually made Yunho chuckle.

“Oh. Like he needed that. I’m sure he’s toasty enough.” Yunho commented sarcastically.

In turn causing everyone else to also let out a laugh.

“Well. Thought he might want to descend to hell wearing what he thinks is fashion.” Hongjoong reasons with a shrug.

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

As the fire burned on ATZ and their henchmen just watched. Making sure everything gets burned to the ground. Took a while but it was beautiful in a way so they didn’t mind.

Once the fire started dying down the sound of a car approaching was heard.

Odd.

They were supposed to wait at home.

The car came to a halt and then the rest of ATZ exited. As they walked up to ones who were watching, the henchmen parted straight down the middle to make way before returning to position.

The rest that just arrived now stand next to the others as they also tuned in to watch the fire.

“Weren’t you all supposed to wait at home and keep Princess company?” Yeosang asked.

“Well we were. But we all missed you too much. And you know Princess loves watching the show. Plus.. she was getting needy for all of us.” Seonghwa explains with a subtle smile.

“Aaah I see. Oh! But she shouldn’t be breathing this much smoke though!” San says worriedly.

“Relax. We made her wait in the car. She can still view it well but she won’t be in harms way.” Jongho reassures before handing San a pair of pants.

“Good. Oh? What’s this? You’re not enjoying seeing me like this like the others are Jongie?” San teases.

Jongho simply rolls his eyes and ignores him. Biting the inside of his cheek hoping no one notices his flushed cheeks. Also trying to not look down at San’s bulge.

“I think he just doesn’t want to be distracted. This is the first time we’ve seen you in weeks Sannie. We missed you very much. You and your sexy body.” Mingi says as he nudges Jongho’s shoulder.

Jongho just softly nudges Mingi back.

“Just say you miss my cock.”

“We all do.” Wooyoung chirped in with a smack to San’s ass.

A couple of hours past before the fire finally dies down and the smoke begins to clear.

Their work here is finally done.

And just ust like that the car door then opens.

Then out walks you, their Princess, wearing one of your newest most lavish and expensive dress in your favorite color. You’re also all dolled up just for them.

At the sight of you exiting the car, the sea of henchmen that were still standing behind your husbands, quickly part to make way like before. However this time, they also got down on their knees, head down, in respect.

As they should.

“What a beautiful sight! Oh my loves you outdid yourselves with this one!” You praise them giddy as if you weren’t talking about the scene of a gruesome massacre.

“An appropriate punishment for such a sinner don’t you think Princess?” Hongjoong asks as he takes your hand.

“I suppose.” You hum as you stand beside him.

“Now that you’re done, can we please leave? I’m hungry!”

“Ah! One more thing before we leave!” Hongjoong announces as he walks towards the ashes.

In said ashes, there lies the skeleton of the man that started all of this. With a wide smirk on his face, Hongjoong carefully crouches down and picks up a small but very sparkly diamond from the teeth of said skeleton.

Hongjoong, smirk not faltering even a bit, makes his way back to you and takes your hand.

“What do you think princess? Shall we customize you a new ring?” He asks showing the diamond.

“Oh my! Yes please! Oh! And check for any more jewels that are left behind in these ashes and rubble! We shouldn’t let such pretty things go to waste.”

“Of course darling.” Jongho starts before turning his attention to the men that were still on their knees before you.

“You heard her.”

“YES SIR!”

Like that they all got up, bowed to you once more before rushing to the ashes where a lavish mansion once stood. In search of anything shiny that might please you.

“Hmmm can we pleeeasee eat now?” You ask with a pout.

“Yes we can our Princess. Yes we can.” Seonghwa tells you with a smile as they all lead you back to the car.

“Can we go to my favorite place tonight?”

“Anything for our Princess.”

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

Bonus ending! ♡

© mimikittysblog 2024

Tagging: @faeprincess777 @starygw3n @bee-gremlin @pinkpearlstar @sweetinsaniiity @puppyminnnie @borahae-reads @spenceatiny18 @justconniez @rosydipity @vtyb23 @beccaskz @boredlol914 @ntlmundy @latisthegenderfluidwannabealone @ateezswonderland @peachyy-jooniee @robertsbbygirl @hanniehq @smally97 @pixie0627 @haven-cove @jaerisdiction @btskzfav @bbyunicornbby @tinybada @cecilleasworld @mudent @mortal-advocate @jjcanwrite

Those who are italicized I could not tag for some reason :(

[lurkinginnernarrator]

Shen Yuan should be surprisingly good at makeup. Like, we all know that Shen Jiu could draw eyeliner sharper than Cheng Luan, but Shen Yuan had a meimei.

Imagine she has a school dance or something, and maybe a mean girl at school said something that made Shen-mei decide she was going to wear makeup for the school dance.

Now, of course, Shen Yuan and his geges make sure to tell her that the girl was just mean, and she's beautiful when she's comfortable and happy, not because of makeup etc etc it's all very good intentioned.

Even so, she says, she still wants to wear makeup.

So she buys some, and starts practicing. She's ... Not the best. Shen Yuan finds her crying in the bathroom with crooked eyeliner, mascara transfer marks on her cheeks, foundation and concealer in the wrong shade, contour that looks like a 5'o'clock shadow, overfilled brows, blush that won't blend...

He helps her take off the cakey makeup and bundles her into the living room, comforting warm drinks in hand. They spend the night watching makeup tutorials.

Step-by-step Shen Yuan learns along with his meimei how to do a full face of makeup.

The school dance goes perfectly, Shen-mei was the most beautiful resplendent girl in the school and had a wonderful time with her friends.

Shen Yuan and Shen-mei don't stop watching makeup videos and doing makeup on each other though, it becomes a shared hobby. Every few weeks, even into adulthood, they'd meet up, turn on some makeup influencer and take out their makeup brushes.

It was their special thing, something that just the two of them shared.

Cut to post-transmigration, during a visit for planning the 'garden', Shang Qinghua idly asks Cucumber-bro how he manages to draw the huadian perfectly every single time.

(I don't know the correct term, I tried looking for the proper terminology because what I believe Shen Qingqiu wears is some sort of scholar's mark? But I couldn't find anything. Please let me know if anyone knows the correct term!)

Shen Yuan shrugs and goes 'not like it's hard, you probably just suck.'

This leads to an argument wherein Shen Yuan decides to demonstrate his superiority.

They did forget that there was a Peak Lords meeting, and so Shen Qingqiu strolls in with flawless eyeliner, lips, huadian, the whole combo, and Shang Qinghua walks in with a red face and smudged eyeliner (it does look good though, fits his messy vibes).

Liu Qingge feels a little faint when he watches Shen Qingqiu absentmindedly press his fan to his lips, leaving lipstick marks on the fan. (SY wonders why at that moment, the System lets him know that his fan has leveled up.)

Luo Binghe is trying to figure out a way to get Shizun to teach him to do makeup... The thought of Shizun taking the brush to his lips, concentration furrowing his brows, letting Luo Binghe admire his face even more unabashedly then usual ...

Qi Qingqi changes her tune faster because she has to know how Shen Qingqiu got his eyelashes so perfect.

[greengoblinswifey]

Break Up With Your Girlfriend— Nicholas Chavez x Fem!Reader

summary— you can’t help but have a crush on your sister’s boyfriend and when you stay over at their shared apartment, things get heated when she leaves.

warnings— infidelity, dom!nicholas, food play(with whipped cream), oral(m&f receiving), praise kink, unprotected sex, creampie, fluff.

a/n— obvi i don’t condone cheating irl but i love fulfilling my readers’ requests. also, i accidentally deleted it, so sorry, yk yourself and i hope you enjoy this🤭

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿

Spending the night at your sister and Nicholas’ shared apartment made you a little nervous. Not because you weren’t close to your sister—quite the opposite—but because of him. Nicholas. Her boyfriend. The man you secretly couldn’t stop thinking about and had a huge crush on, even though you knew it was so, so wrong. He was six years older, towering over you with his sharp features and a smile that could make anyone weak.

It wasn’t just his looks, though. It was the way he seemed to notice you. The way he leaned into conversations, tilting his head as if you were the only person in the room. The way his dark eyes held yours a little too long, like he was daring you to look away first. And you always did.

You tried to avoid being alone with him, but it was inevitable. Your sister had gone out for groceries, and, as always, she’d be gone for hours. You were left sitting on their couch, scrolling aimlessly on your phone, dressed in a casual two-piece—soft shorts that looked like panties and a matching tank top that felt too revealing now under Nicholas’ occasional glances.

He was in the kitchen, and your stomach growled quietly at the thought of the whipped cream in the fridge. It wasn’t yours to take, but the craving was persistent.

You approached the kitchen hesitantly, your bare feet padding softly on the cool tile floor. Nicholas looked up from his phone as you entered, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips.

“Need something?” he asked, his voice warm but laced with that teasing edge that always made your pulse race.

“Um,” you started softly, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your shorts. “Can I, um, have some of the whipped cream? I know it’s yours, but—”

He chuckled, a low sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “You don’t have to ask so sweetly,” he said, stepping closer. “But, let me hear you say please.”

Your cheeks burned. “Please?” you managed, barely above a whisper.

He raised an eyebrow, his smirk deepening. “Say, please, Nicholas.”

Your gaze dropped to the floor, heat flooding your body as your thighs pressed together instinctively. “Please, Nicholas,” you murmured, but his fingers tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his eyes.

“Louder,” he said, his tone soft but commanding.

You swallowed hard, your voice shaking as you repeated, “Please, Nicholas.”

He grinned and stepped back. “That’s better. I’ll get it for you.”

You watched, frozen, as he retrieved the whipped cream from the fridge. But instead of handing it to you, he held it up.

“Open your mouth,” he said, his voice dropping slightly.

Your breath hitched, but you obeyed, parting your lips and sticking your tongue out slightly. He sprayed the whipped cream into your mouth, the cool sweetness melting on your tongue, but some of it caught on your lips.

Nicholas’ gaze darkened as he leaned in. “You’ve got some right here,” he murmured, swiping his thumb along your lower lip. You thought he’d step back, but instead, he brought his thumb to his mouth, licking it clean.

The air between you felt thick, charged with something. You couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. Your thighs clenched involuntarily, and Nicholas noticed.

“You’re always shy around me” he said, his voice low as he took another step closer. You were practically backed into the counter now, his presence overwhelming.

“I-I’m not shy,” you stammered, but even to your ears, it sounded unconvincing.

He leaned down, his face inches from yours. “Sure you’re not,” he teased, his voice dripping with amusement.

Moments like this weren’t new. You remembered the way his eyes would linger on you during family gatherings or how he’d find excuses to stand a little too close. He’d cornered you before, literally, during a party at their place, his arms braced on either side of you as he leaned in, his breath warm against your skin. You’d stuttered through some excuse to escape, but the heat of his gaze had stayed with you long after.

And now, here he was again, watching you like he knew all the thoughts you tried to hide.

“You’re cute when you’re nervous,” he said, his voice soft but teasing.

“I’m not nervous,” you protested weakly, though your trembling hands betrayed you.

“Right,” he said, his smirk widening as he leaned in again, brushing past you to set the whipped cream on the counter. “Better finish that before your sister gets back.”

You nodded quickly, grabbing the can and retreating to the living room, your heart pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it.

After moving to the living room, you curled up on the couch, mindlessly watching TV while scooping small bites of whipped cream onto your finger. The taste was sweet, but the air felt charged. Nicholas settled beside you, his presence magnetic. You could feel his eyes on you, a heat that made it impossible to focus.

When you glanced at him, he was already looking at you, smirking.

“What?” you asked, voice soft.

“Nothing,” he replied, tilting his head slightly. “Just admiring how pretty you are.”

The words hit like a bolt of lightning. Your chest tightened, cheeks flushed. “Prettier than her,” he added, the implication unmistakable.

You froze. You and your sister had similar features, but hearing that from him made your stomach churn—and not from guilt. You knew you should be angry, should push him away, but instead, your heart thudded harder.

“Really?” you whispered before you could stop yourself.

His gaze softened, and his lips curled into a sly smile. “Yes, baby, really,” he said. The pet name left you reeling. It wasn’t meant for you, yet the way it rolled off his tongue felt like it belonged to you and you alone.

Your voice wavered. “You’re my sister’s boyfriend.”

Nicholas leaned closer, invading your space, his eyes locking onto yours. “And yet,” he said, “you can’t stop looking at me. Can’t stop squeezing your thighs every time I get too close. I know, baby. I’ve noticed.”

You swallowed hard, words failing you. How could he know? How could he see what you thought you’d hidden so well?

“I bet you’re throbbing right now,” he murmured, his voice dropping an octave. His words sent shivers down your spine. “Am I right?”

Your lips parted, but no words came out. Slowly, you nodded.

He leaned back with a knowing smile, taking the whipped cream from your hand. Before you could react, he leaned forward, squirting a line of it across your stomach.

“Nicholas!” you gasped, half in surprise, half in disbelief.

“What?” he said, voice teasing, as he set the can down. His movements were slow, deliberate, as he hovered over you. “You don’t want me to clean it up?”

Your body tensed as he dipped his head, his warm breath brushing against your brown skin. His tongue darted out, trailing over the sweet path he’d made. You couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped your lips.

He paused, his gaze flicking up to meet yours. “You make the sweetest sounds,” he murmured, the compliment sending another rush of heat through you.

Your head spun as he pressed further. “Do you want me to help with the ache, baby?”

You hesitated, your mind warring with itself. This was wrong, but in that moment, all you could think about was him. “Yes,” you whispered.

“Yes, what?” he asked, a teasing glint in his eye.

“Yes, Nicholas,” you replied, barely louder than a breath.

He grinned, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Good girl,” he said softly, though the praise sent your pulse racing. “But you have to tell me, baby. Are you sure this is what you want?”

Your head nodded instinctively, all logic drowned by the intensity of the moment. “I’m sure,” you managed to say, your voice trembling.

Nicholas moved closer, his hand skimming the waistband of your tiny shorts. “Can I?” he murmured, seeking your permission.

Your nod was almost imperceptible, and with a slow, deliberate motion, he slid them down your legs. The fabric clung to you, damp with evidence of your arousal. His gaze darkened as he tossed them aside.

“Wow,” he breathed, the corner of his mouth curling into a sly grin. “Just the thought of having your sister’s boyfriend above you gets you this wet?”

A spark of defiance flared in your chest, momentarily overtaking your shyness. “Yes,” you said, voice trembling but steady. “So what?”

His laugh was low, warm, and teasing. “My little baby’s getting bold,” he said, his voice dripping with amusement.

Before you could respond, he was leaning down, his lips pressing to your inner thigh, teasing you, dragging out the moment until your entire body ached for more. When his mouth finally found your pussy, you let out a sharp gasp, your fingers instinctively tangling in his hair.

“You taste so sweet,” he murmured between kisses, his words sending shivers down your spine. “So good for me.”

Your body writhed beneath him, the sensation overwhelming. His tongue moved with deliberate skill, pulling breathy moans and cries from your lips.

“You’re so perfect like this,” he murmured, his voice full of praise. “Don’t hold back, baby. Let me hear you.”

And you did—soft whimpers turning into loud cries as your hands tightened in his hair, your back arching off the couch. The intensity built to a fever pitch, and your body trembled uncontrollably as the release washed over you and you squirted.

Nicholas leaned back slightly, his lips glistening, his expression a mix of pride and satisfaction. “You just squirted for your sister’s boyfriend,” he said, voice dripping with teasing reproach. His grin widened as he ran a thumb along his jawline. “Filthy. I love it.”

You hid your face in your hands, half from embarrassment and half from the lingering heat coursing through your veins.

Nicholas only chuckled, leaning over you, brushing your hair back from your face. “Don’t go shy on me now, baby,” he murmured. “I’m not done with you yet.”

He stepped back, his hands moving to unbutton his jeans. As the fabric slid to the floor, your eyes widened, and you couldn’t stop the small gasp that escaped your lips. He was already hard, straining against his boxers, and the sight left you momentarily stunned.

He noticed the way your gaze lingered, how your lips slightly pouted as a flicker of something—jealousy, perhaps, crossed your face. “Don’t worry, baby,” he said, his voice smooth and teasing as he pushed his boxers down. “My dick is yours now.”

Your cheeks burned at his words, but a smile crept onto your face. He stood tall, stroking his big dick slowly, his eyes locked on yours. “Open wide,” he instructed, and you obeyed without hesitation, your breath hitching as he slid himself past your lips.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his hand gently brushing the side of your face as you adjusted. “Make me proud.”

You moved carefully at first, testing his reactions, and when he let out a soft moan, you found your rhythm. His praise came steadily, his voice a mix of low murmurs and breathy sounds. “I knew you’d be good at this. So much better than her,” he whispered, the words sending a jolt through you.

You doubled your efforts, your hands and mouth working together to draw every sound you could from him. His head fell back, his breaths growing ragged as you continued, your confidence building with each whimper and groan. You worked your tongue all over from the base back up to the tip and as you did, you caressed his balls, making him twitch in your hands.

When he finally came, you swallowed without a second thought, meeting his gaze with a soft smirk. His eyes widened briefly, clearly impressed. “Your sister never swallows,” he said.

“Well,” you replied, your voice steady despite the warmth in your cheeks. “I’m not her.”

A slow grin spread across his face. “No,” he said, stepping closer and brushing his thumb across your jaw. “You’re so much better.”

He leaned down, scooping you up effortlessly, and carried you to the bedroom. The room you knew was shared between him and your sister, but the thought barely registered as he laid you gently on the bed.

“You’re so eager,” he murmured, his hand trailing up your thigh. “So needy for me.”

You bit your lip, looking up at him with wide eyes, your body trembling in anticipation.

“Don’t worry,” he said, his voice low and full of promise. “I’m going to take care of you, baby.”

Nicholas pulled his shirt over his head, revealing his toned, muscular frame. Your breath hitched as your eyes roamed over him, and you instinctively bit your lip. He noticed, a teasing grin tugging at his lips as he reached for the drawer beside the bed.

He grabbed a condom, but before he could open it, you reached out, your fingers gently brushing his wrist. “I don’t want you to,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I’m on the pill, I want to feel all of you.”

His eyebrows shot up in surprise he always used a condom with your sister, but the smirk on his face deepened. “Naughty little girl, aren’t you?” he teased, his voice low and warm.

“Only for you,” you replied, the boldness in your words surprising even yourself.

He chuckled, his eyes darkening with something that made your pulse race. “Say that again,” he murmured, leaning closer.

“Only for you,” you repeated, more confidently this time.

He smirked, shaking his head slightly as if you were both trouble and a temptation he couldn’t resist. “If you want it, you’re going to have to beg for it, baby.”

Your cheeks burned, but the ache in your body outweighed your shyness. “Please, Nicholas,” you murmured, your voice soft but desperate. “I need you. I want to feel every inch, every vein. I’ll take it so well—better than she ever could.”

His eyes flickered with something primal at your words, and he let out a low growl of approval. “That’s my good girl,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss you, soft and slow at first, before deepening it, his lips and tongue leaving you breathless.

Gently, he pulled your top over your head, his gaze lingering on your tits. “You’re perfect,” he said, his voice full of awe as his hands brushed over your skin. “Absolutely stunning.”

As he positioned himself above you, his eyes searched yours, his expression tender. “Are you sure about this?” he asked softly, his thumb stroking your cheek. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

You nodded, your fingers gripping his arms. “I want this. I want you.”

With one last lingering look, he pressed inside your leaking pussy, his movements deliberate and careful. You gasped at the sensation, your body adjusting to him as he whispered praises. “You’re so tight,” he murmured. “So perfect for me.”

Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer as your fingers raked down his back, leaving faint red marks in their wake. He groaned at the sensation, his breath hot against your neck.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice thick with admiration. “Taking me so well. Better than I ever imagined.”

You shuddered at his words, the heat between you building with every movement, every whispered praise. “Nicholas,” you moaned, your head tilting back as waves of pleasure washed over you.

“That’s it, baby,” he murmured, his lips brushing your ear. “Let go for me. Let me feel you.”

You clung to him as your body trembled, a shuddering orgasm overtaking you. Nicholas kissed your temple softly, his own breath uneven as he whispered, “You’re incredible. This is everything I’ve dreamed of. I use to beat my dick thinking about fucking this tight pussy.”

The intimacy of the moment left you feeling raw and vulnerable, but as his lips found yours again, you knew this was what you had been longing for.

Nicholas smirked as he flipped you over effortlessly, his strong hands guiding you to arch your back. “That’s it, baby,” he murmured, pressing a lingering kiss to the curve of your lower back before letting his lips graze your skin. “You’ve been so good, but I’m not going to be gentle this time.”

Your smiled as his hands gripped your hips firmly. “I don’t care,” you said breathlessly, glancing back at him. “I want it.”

His grin widened, the heat in his gaze making your skin tingle. “As you wish,” he replied, his voice low and laced with dominance.

With that, his demeanor shifted entirely. His movements were more purposeful, his pace fast and demanding as he gripped your hips. “You’ve been dreaming about this, haven’t you?” he said, his voice rough with satisfaction. “I know how bad you’ve wanted me.”

“Yes,” you cried out, your voice trembling as your body rocked against his movements.

“That’s right,” he growled, his voice commanding. “Who’s making you feel this good?”

“You,” you gasped, your voice almost breaking.

“Say my name,” he ordered, his hands tightening on your waist. “I want to hear you moan my name.”

“Nicholas!” you cried, his name spilling from your lips as your voice rose higher.

He leaned forward, his thick cock still in you, his hand trailing down your stomach. “You feel me deep inside you?” he murmured against your ear.

You reached down instinctively, your trembling fingers brushing your brown glistening skin. You could feel his cock moving, each thrust more intense than the last. “Yes,” you whimpered, tears pooling in your eyes from the overwhelming sensation.

“That’s right,” he groaned, his tone full of satisfaction. “I’m so deep in you, baby. You’re mine.”

His words sent you over the edge, your body shuddering as waves of pleasure overwhelmed you. “Let go for me,” he whispered, his voice almost tender amid the intensity. “I know you’ve waited for this.”

Your climax was overwhelming, leaving you breathless and the sheets beneath you thoroughly soaked from your juices. Nicholas’ movements didn’t falter as he chased his own release, his breaths turning ragged. He leaned down, his voice a husky whisper. “Where do you want it, baby?”

“Inside me,” you murmured without hesitation.

“Fuck baby, you sure?” he asked, his tone laced with both urgency and care.

“Yes,” you whispered, nodding.

A low groan escaped his lips as he let himself cum deep inside your pussy, his body tensing before he finally collapsed beside you. The room was filled with nothing but the sound of your heavy breaths as he pulled you into his arms.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his gaze softening as he stared down at you. His words made your heart swell, and for a moment, it felt like you were in your own little world, just the two of you.

But time wasn’t on your side. Reluctantly, you both got up after cuddling for a while, the haze of the moment replaced by hurried movements to clean up. Nicholas stripped the sheets, while you straightened the couch, glancing at him every now and then with a small smile.

Soon, the apartment was back to normal, and you were both seated on the couch, your head resting against his chest. His arm was draped around you, and you could still feel the heat of his skin against yours.

The sound of the front door opening made you both freeze. Your sister walked in, a cheerful smile on her face as she looked at the two of you. “Aww, y’all are getting along,” she said, setting her bag down.

You and Nicholas exchanged a quick glance, your smiles forced but convincing.

“Did you guys have fun without me?” she asked, oblivious to the sexual tension in the air.

He leaned back casually, his smirk barely noticeable. “Oh, we had a lot of fun,” he said, the double meaning in his tone entirely lost on her.

You bit your lip to hide your nervous laughter, nodding along as she turned away, completely unaware.

[dissapointu]

Could you please write arcane characters with crybaby S/O?? If you want, of course! Whatever, thank you, I love your works 💗💗

I’m so glad you enjoy my work! Arcane characters and their crybaby s/o,:

———————————————————————

Jinx

Jinx’s first instinct is to panic when she sees you crying. Her eyes widen, and her brain short circuits a bit as she scrambles to figure out what’s wrong.

“Oh no! Did I break something? Was it my bombs again?!” She pulls you into her arms and starts rattling off a series of wild suggestions to make you smile. “Maybe some candy? Or I could build you a new toy—no, wait, I’ll make a whole new everything!”

When she finally calms down enough to hold you and see the tears are simply from emotion, she softens, giving you a tight hug and whispering, “Don’t cry, okay? I can’t handle it.” She might still end up doing something completely ridiculous to cheer you up, but she loves you so much and hates seeing you sad.

Vi

Vi’s reaction to you crying is immediately protective. She’s quick to scoop you up in her strong arms, cradling you against her chest like you’re the most precious thing in the world.

“Hey, hey… you’re okay,” she murmurs softly, gently stroking your hair. “I’ve got you. Don’t worry.”

She’s not great with words when it comes to comforting, but her touch speaks volumes. She’ll just hold you close, letting you cry it out in her arms, her jaw tight and eyes soft as she assures you, “You’re the toughest person I know, don’t forget that.” She’d never let anything hurt you.

Sevika

Sevika is a lot tougher on the outside but crumbles when you’re upset. When she sees you crying, it’s like a switch flips, and all her usual hardness melts.

“Why are you crying?” she asks, her voice surprisingly soft, but her posture tense as if she’s trying to hold it together. She gently wipes away your tears with her thumb.

Sevika doesn’t quite know how to comfort in a traditional sense, so she might pull you into her lap, leaning against the wall as she lets you cry it out. “You’re tough, you don’t need to cry, alright?” But there’s a softness in her tone, a vulnerability she doesn’t often show to anyone but you.

Silco

Silco is stern, but when he sees you crying, a strange protectiveness takes over him. He’s never really been great at comforting anyone, but when it comes to you, he’s incredibly tender.

“Enough of this,” he says, voice low and commanding, yet his actions are the opposite. He gently pulls you into his arms, running a hand through your hair, his grip surprisingly delicate.

“You’re the last person I ever wanted to see in tears,” he mutters, his voice rough. He may not have the right words, but the way he holds you speaks volumes. “Don’t waste your tears. I’ll handle whatever is making you sad.” He’ll find a way to fix it—because you mean that much to him.

Vander

Vander’s heart aches whenever you cry. The moment you start, he’s immediately by your side, pulling you into his massive arms with an almost fatherly tenderness.

“There, there,” he murmurs, rocking you gently as he lets you cry it out. “You don’t have to hide your tears from me, sweetheart.”

His voice is soothing and steady, like a calm in the storm. He doesn’t ask questions right away; he just holds you, rubbing your back and whispering, “I’m here. You’re safe.”

Vander’s the type to offer warmth and security, his hands gentle on your back as he helps you through whatever’s troubling you.

Ekko

Ekko’s heart drops when he sees you upset, especially when it’s tears. He immediately drops everything, running over to wrap his arms around you in a tight hug.

“Hey, hey, what’s going on?” he asks, his voice full of concern. His hands are all over you—touching your arms, face, shoulders—as if making sure you’re real, that you’re okay.

“Come on, you know you can tell me anything, right?” he says, trying to reassure you. Ekko’s never good with seeing you cry, and he’ll do anything to stop it. He might even go a little overboard with distractions—making you laugh, telling you a silly story, or offering to make you something special—because the last thing he wants is for you to feel sad for long.

Jayce

Jayce is the type to immediately feel overwhelmed when you cry, unsure of what to do at first. He’s a man of action, and seeing you upset makes him want to fix everything.

“Sweetheart, please, tell me what’s wrong. I can help, I swear,” he pleads, his voice urgent yet gentle as he pulls you into his arms.

Jayce is the kind to try and solve whatever’s troubling you, whether it’s with words or some grand gesture. “Whatever it is, we’ll fix it together,” he promises, brushing your hair out of your face.

He might even work himself into a frenzy, trying to make everything perfect just so you’ll stop crying, but ultimately, his soft embrace and the way he looks at you with concern will make you feel safe again.

Viktor

Viktor is a mix of confusion and worry when he sees you in tears. He’s so used to dealing with problems with logic and technology that when it comes to comforting you, it’s like stepping into uncharted territory.

“Why are you crying?” he asks, his voice soft and a little uncertain. “This isn’t like you.”

Viktor doesn’t understand all of your emotions, but what he does understand is that you’re important to him. He’ll sit beside you, reaching out to hold your hand, carefully avoiding overwhelming you with words.

He’s more likely to offer you quiet, thoughtful gestures—making you tea, working on something together—anything to make you feel better.

Caitlyn

Caitlyn is a little flustered when she sees you cry, especially if it’s about something that’s beyond her control. She’s so used to solving problems in a structured way, but she wants to do everything to help you feel better.

“Darling, what happened?” she asks, her voice soft but filled with concern as she wipes your tears away.

She’s very gentle with you, rubbing your back or combing through your hair, and she’ll do anything to get you to stop crying. Caitlyn might get a little frustrated with herself if she can’t figure out the cause, but she’ll keep reassuring you with sweet words and actions: “You’re safe with me, I won’t let anything hurt you.”

Mel Medarda

Mel’s reaction to you crying is calm, yet deeply caring. She’s not overly sentimental, but she’s not cold either. She’s incredibly composed, and she’ll use her sharp intellect to try and get you to open up about what’s troubling you.

“Tell me, my dear,” she says softly, her voice full of warmth. “What’s weighing on your heart?”

Mel will sit down with you, her hands resting on yours as she listens carefully, offering advice only if she thinks it’s needed. She doesn’t want to push you, but she’ll always make sure you know you’re not alone, and that you have her support, no matter what.

Ambessa Medarda

Ambessa���s reactions are subtle, but her presence is commanding. She doesn’t like seeing you cry, and while she may not be the most emotionally open, she’ll show you affection in her own way.

“Don’t cry,” she says with quiet authority, pulling you into her arms. “Tears are for weakness.”

But her actions are softer than her words. She’ll stroke your back gently, offering you silence as she lets you cry it out, and then, once you calm down, she’ll make sure you’re taken care of, ready to shield you from whatever caused the pain.

Maddie Nolen

Maddie’s heart breaks the moment she sees your tears. She’s quick to offer comfort, wrapping you in a tight hug, kissing your forehead, and telling you everything will be okay.

“You’re everything to me,” she whispers, her voice low and soothing. “Please don’t cry.”

She might be a little overwhelmed by how much she cares for you, but she does everything she can to help you calm down. Maddie will talk with you for hours if she has to, just to make sure you know you’re not alone, and that she’s there for you.

Lest

Lest’s heart always skips a beat when she sees you upset. She’s very protective of you, and she’s quick to wrap you up in a soft embrace, not quite knowing what to do but instinctively wanting to shield you from anything causing you pain.

“Hey, it’s okay,” she says softly, her hands gentle as she holds you close. “Don’t cry, I’m here.”

She doesn’t rush you to stop crying, letting you take your time. She’s patient, and she’ll listen quietly, never pushing you for answers, just offering her warmth and comfort.

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Chapter 5- Miles Between Us

Summary: Frankie's decision to join the Army was the catalyst in the collapse of your friendship. When he's forced to reconcile with his past, packed away in boxes in his childhood basement, he finds pieces of you in everything he's left behind.

Word Count: 5.0K

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader (reader has a name/nickname)

Warnings: Angst, lying, guilt, military deployment, FEELINGS, Frankie's mom not putting up with his shit

A/N: IT'S TIME TO PEEL BACK ANOTHER LAYER OF THE ONION, BABY!!! I hope you guys don't hate me that this is a slow burn- I know this is not how I normally write at all, but it's been really fun to build this story up bit by bit (if you hate it though, please tell me lmao 💀) I'm excited for this chapter and how it hints at next chapter (we're finally getting to some smut y'all, omg) Thank you as always for your kind words, it makes my day to hear what you have to say about these two 🥺💛

All The Things We Never Said Masterlist

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

You, Age 17, Spring of 2006

“You’re late, Morales.” 

“Can’t be late to something we don’t have a set time for, Anderson.” 

It’s true, you and Frankie have never set an official schedule for your afterschool ritual, but it never seems to fail that at 3:45, only 10 minutes after you’ve gotten home from soccer practice,  he’s at the foot of your bed with his forest green Jansport backpack, ready to complain about the homework he doesn’t want to finish and the tests he has no interest in studying for, just so he can keep you company while you stress yourself to death about the same assignments. 

And for as much as he hated school work, Frankie was never late. Never. So to watch him mope into your bedroom an hour later than his usual arrival time, it almost would have been safer to assume he was dead than anything else. 

“What took you so long? Get lost on the way here?” You joke, trying to keep it light while still prodding for an answer about his absence as you write down the answer to the math equation you’re trying to solve. 

“No. Don’t worry about it.” 

There’s been very few occasions you’ve seen Frankie so stoic. Even on his worst days, he’s at least still got a little tolerance left in him for your stupid banter. It’s enough to draw your attention completely away from your homework and onto him. 

“What’s wrong? Why are you being so weird?” 

You can tell then that something’s clearly not right, the way he’s angrily yanking loose papers and textbooks from his backpack and nearly slamming them onto the edge of your bed, making you gnaw anxiously at the end of your pencil you’d been using. 

You’re too nosy for your own good to let up until you find what you’re looking for. 

“Nothing’s wrong.” 

“Well obviously something’s wrong.” 

“What? I’m not allowed to be late, ever?” 

“No? Frankie, I just asked where you were and you’re acting like I’m asking you if you just shot the fucking president or something. What’s going on?” 

“It’s nothing, MacKenzie!”

“If it’s nothing, then why are you so upset about it?” 

“I’m not upset!” 

“You clearly are? Frankie, what the hell are you-” 

“I’m joining the Army, okay?!”

Out of all the things you could have expected to come out of Frankie’s mouth, that would have been at the bottom of your list. In fact, it’s so out of left field, you’re not even quite sure you believe him. 

Your forehead hurts from how tightly your brows are knitted together in confusion, scowling at Frankie with a dumbfounded intensity that probably had you looking like you had just gotten an unsuspecting whiff of the world’s most sour lemon. 

There’s no way he’s being serious. He can’t be. 

“Ha ha, very funny, Francisco.” You mock, frown still splayed across your face, “Now will you please tell me what’s actually going on?” 

His silence makes your heart drop into the pit of your stomach. You can feel the way your face falls, the muscles once tensed in adamant skepticism now sinking into a quiet panic. You can hear each breath as it flows in through your nose and out through your mouth, blood pounding louder and louder in your ears with each pulse of your veins. 

“Frankie, if this is one of your stupid jokes, it’s not funny.” 

“It’s not a joke.” 

His eyes are still peeled to the floor, too afraid to bring himself to look at you. All he can do is stare at his pinky toe, poking out of the hole in his socks that he refuses to replace. You wait for what feels like hours, days, for him to say something, but his silence is deafening. And the sound of Frankie’s silence is the scariest thing you’ve heard in a very long time. 

It’s so terrifying, the only thing you can do to cope is fill the quiet void with your rambling and pray that Frankie Morales is choosing to play the world’s worst joke on you. 

“What- what do you mean? Frankie, I thought- When you and Santi talked about doing the same thing as Will- I thought you were fucking kidding? What about college? We already both got accepted to Florida State, what are you gonna do-” 

“I didn’t get in.” 

Please let him be kidding. Please, please, let this be a sick joke. 

You can feel your confusion starting to bubble into anger, jaw clenching at the way Frankie’s too coward to even look in your general direction, gaze still glued to that stupid fucking hole in his worn down sock. 

“Frankie, what the fuck? We both got accepted back in January? You’ve been lying to me this whole fucking time?” 

“I didn’t wanna lie, okay?!” 

He’s riddled with enough guilt to speak up, trying to keep himself from the brink of tears as he works up enough courage to finally look you in the face. You can hear how hard he gulps, like his heart is bobbing in his throat, trying to buy all the time he can to come up with a reason for his deception that won’t hurt you any more than he already has. 

“I just- fuck,” he sighs, chewing at his bottom and bouncing his leg against the bed so intensely it’ll make him sore the next day, “I didn’t know what to do, Kenz. I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry.” 

It’s hard to stay mad at him when you know he means it. It’d be easier if it weren’t for the way his brown eyes flooded with disappointment in himself, spilling out in tears onto his cheeks. For as frustrated as you are, you have enough sympathy to ease up on him enough to at least try to understand. 

“Well, not lying to me about it for the last four months probably would have been a good start.” You huff, the air that puffs from your nostrils still tainted with the let down you’re trying so hard to not let override your conversation. 

You can’t help but let yourself find a spot next to him on the edge of your bed, a peace offering that you hope is enough to signal to him you’re willing to listen to what he has to say. 

“I- I didn’t think you were being serious when you and Santi were talking about it. I- I thought you- I thought the plan was to go to Florida State. Together. What happened, Frankie?” 

It’s quiet for a few more moments. Frankie takes a few, slow deep breaths as he runs his hands through the curls twisting at the nape of his neck. The silence isn’t as bitter as before, but it stings enough to gnaw at the edges of your nails, the anxious habit you can’t seem to break, and certainly have no intention of giving up right now.  

“Stop chewing at your nails, Kenz. You’re gonna be pissed at yourself later.” Frankie sighs, gently grabbing your wrist to pull your hand away from your mouth, trying to fulfill his duty of being the one to stop you from ripping your nail beds to shreds. 

“You’re kinda making it hard not to.” You try your best to attempt a laugh. It’s the only way to keep yourself from crying. “So are you gonna tell me what’s going on or what?” 

“Y-yeah.” Frankie re-adjusts himself on the edge of the bed, twisting the fabric of your comforter between his fingers, trying to ground himself in the reality of the truth he’s forced to tell you, “I- I didn’t get into Florida State. I told you I did because I didn’t know what I was gonna do. You were just so excited when you thought we both got in and I- I panicked and I lied. I didn’t even think I was gonna get in anyways. I didn’t think I was gonna get in anywhere. Even if I did, I don’t know if I even could have afforded it. It’s just me and my mom and neither of us-”

“It’s not too late. I can help you look for scholarships. To help you with tuition. I’m sure that there’s a bunch out there that you could apply for. I’ll even write your essays and stuff for you if you want me to-” 

“I’m pretty sure you can’t do that, Kenz. Plus, you hate cheaters.” 

Frankie tries to reciprocate the same half-assed laugh you gave him. He looks over at you, the small smile he’s forcing to keep between his lips quickly fading as he sees the way you’re pleading with him to realize that you would forge a thousand essays in his name if it meant he wasn’t going to leave you. He’d be a cheater you’d gladly forgive. 

“It’s not even just the money. I just- I- I don’t even like school, Kenzie. I suck at it. If school is already hard now, how much harder is it gonna be when I get to college? To study for a job that I’m probably not even gonna want when I graduate? At least with the Army I can have a job and benefits and hopefully make enough money to help my mom so she’s not working at the hospital 6 days a week. MacKenzie, the only reason I applied to Florida State was because of you. I thought that maybe there would be some miracle I got in and I could figure out how to pay for it and I could magically get smarter and better at school so we could spend the next four years together. I wanted it to happen. I wanted it to happen so bad. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I lied to you. I just- fuck- I just didn’t know how to tell you.” 

Neither of you are quite sure what to say next. That quiet comes back to fill the space between you, allowing enough room for the silent sobs you’re both trying your best to hold in, small sniffles still escaping from each of you. You’re not sure if your brain has fully processed what he’s had to say. The only thing you can understand is the swirling of sadness and confusion in your gut and the pounding ache in your chest. 

You take a scooch closer to him, the outsides of your thighs barely brushing together as you tilt your head to rest against his shoulder. It’s heavy, the weight you can’t help but lean against him, but the arm he wraps behind your back and around your waist tells you that he’ll gladly take it. He’ll take it all, if he has to. 

“Did you already sign a contract to go?” The whisper of your words is so soft, like you’re hoping he can’t hear you. If he can’t hear you, then he doesn’t have to tell you the answer you don’t want to hear. 

“Yeah. Me and Santi did a few weeks ago.” His voice is almost quieter than yours, convinced he has the same idea as you. 

His truth stings worse than the lie he’s been masquerading behind the past four months. You want to scream at him- To curse him with shouts and sobs, question how he could make this choice for himself and leave you in the dark until it’s too late for you to change his mind. You know it’s selfish, the way you want him to stay, the way you would have fought with every bone in your body to keep him from leaving. You know it’s the reason Frankie couldn’t tell you. 

It’s the same reason why Frankie couldn’t bring himself to tell you that if he had given you that chance, he probably would have stayed. 

“Do um- do you know when you have to leave?” 

It hurts to hear the words come out of your mouth. It’s an admittance of defeat. Because once you ask that question, there’s nothing you can do or say that will make him stay. No fighting, no begging, no pleading. You have to accept he’s leaving. 

“Not ‘til the end of the summer.” 

“Where?” 

The more you ask, the more it makes you want to keel over the edge of the bed and vomit, the reality of it all setting in at an alarming pace. 

“Missouri for basic training. I don’t know where after.” 

He doesn’t have to say where. You both know. Even if he doesn’t know the exact longitude and latitude of where the Army will deploy him, there’s nowhere else they’re sending him besides Iraq or Afghanistan or whatever godforsaken, war ridden country in the Middle East he’ll be forced to put his life on the line for. 

And for how much the reality of Frankie leaving scares you, when you’re hit with the reality that Frankie may leave and never come back, you’re absolutely terrified. 

“I don’t want you to go, Frankie.” 

You can’t beg him to stay. There’s no amount of bargaining you can do with him or the powers that be to change what’s been done. All you can do is tell him your truth as you sob into his chest while he holds you. Maybe if you’re not enough to make him stay, you’re at least enough to make him want to come home. 

You’re not sure how long he holds you while you cry. Maybe it’s minutes, maybe it’s hours. However long it is, all the moments you have left with Frankie feel that much more precious. You won’t let any of them slip through your fingers. 

“You promise you’ll come home, right?” 

“I promise, MacKenzie. I promise.” 

If there’s one thing you’ve learned about Francisco Morales, it’s that he’ll never break a promise. You just hope the universe is kind enough to let him keep this one, too. 

“I promise that we’ll have a really fun summer together before I leave too, okay? Whatever you wanna do, Kenz, I’ll do it.” 

“Anything?” 

It’s enough to peek your head out from the crook of his neck, trying your best to wipe away your tears with your sleeve, like you hadn’t just stained the better part of Frankie’s sweatshirt with the same wetness. 

“Anything.” 

“Alright, well, I guess we’re gonna go to Dairy Queen and get an extra large blizzard every day until you’re too fat for the Army to want you anymore.” 

The two of you giggle, a quiet symphony of soft snorts and sobs at the idea of rolling an ice cream filled Frankie off to boot camp. It makes him laugh even harder that he wouldn’t put it past you if you really did try. Perhaps it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if you did. 

“Whatever you want, MacKenzie. I’m all yours.” 

Frankie, Present 

Frankie’s convinced he might as well start training for a marathon at this point. 

He’s not really sure how else to spend his time. It’s hard to keep himself occupied when all he can do at home is sit around and wait for your dad to die or stare out the window like a creep to watch your comings and goings. 

At least if he’s running, he can’t think about you. 

Well, he can’t think about you as much. 

It’s been a day and a half since he decided to follow you on your run. He’s already pushed his luck enough that you didn’t damn near kill him for it, let alone that you even gave him a chance to talk to him. 

He let you take the first  shift on the morning yesterday, despite the fact he’d been awake well before the sun rose. The irony wasn’t lost on him at the way he watched you through his bedroom window the same way he did most Saturday and Sunday mornings for the first few years of your friendship. You’d be up at the same ungodly hour as him, except you’d be pacing up and down your driveway, stretching and lunging across its length as you clicked around on the iPod wrapped around your forearm, searching for whatever song would pump you up for your run. 

It wasn’t until you had finally noticed Frankie peering out his bedroom window every weekend that you began to drag him along on your runs with you. 

“If you’re awake too, you might as well come running with me, Morales. It’ll be fun!” 

“Fine. I gotta warn you though, Kenz, I am actually pretty fast.” 

“You barely run the mile in gym class.” 

“Savin’ up all my energy for when I need it most, Anderson.” 

There was once a time where you would have to beg Frankie to come with you on a run. Now, he’d give anything for you to tolerate his existence ten feet behind you. 

But he’ll sacrifice another run alone through all too familiar roads of his childhood subdivision if it helps him kill time and keeps you from hating him anymore than you rightfully deserve to. 

Yesterday, he went on two runs to pass the time. Hell, today, he’d consider adding a third run to his underwhelming schedule just to keep himself busy. Fortunately, (or unfortunately, he can’t tell yet) for him, Maria Morales has other plans. 

And when Maria Morales has plans, it’s in Frankie’s best interest to drop anything else he had in mind for the day. 

Even when it means he’s got a hot date with his basement and a mountain full of boxes in his basement. 

“Okay, anything in this pile to the left is for you to go through.” His mom grunts, lifting up one last box to add to the heap labeled “Francisco’s things” in her perfectly curved cursive, “If you want to take it home, find an empty box to put it in, but not my new clear, plastic bins, entiendes (understand)? Those were expensive.” 

“No clear plastic bins, got it.” Frankie chuckles, following the exaggerated step his mother takes over his scattered belongings. 

“If you see something and you don’t want it now but you want me to keep it for later, you can put it over on the shelf by the stairs. If you think it’s basura (trash), leave it over here and let me look at it first before you throw it away.” 

“Comprendido (got it).” Frankie nods, sizing up the stack his mom has set out for him, “Jesus ma, this is gonna take me all morning to go through.” 

“If you were home more, there would be less things to go through now.” 

“Yeah, well, you got me there.” Frankie grumbles under his breath, grimacing at the harsh reality of his mom’s words. He knows isn’t meant completely out of malice, but he can’t deny it’s certainly got some truth to it as well.  

“Okay, well I need to go run some errands, and I want this pile sorted by the end of the day, so standing here and moping certainly isn’t going to help that. Get to work, mijo (son).” 

His mom will never be one to throw a pity party for anyone, and most definitely won’t be throwing one for her son, based on his own, self-inflicted problem. Frankie helps her step over another makeshift pile scattered for sorting across the basement floor, giving him a quick pat on the back before disappearing upstairs, leaving him to quite literally unpack his past. 

“Fuck. Okay.” He sighs to himself, gently kicking one of the edges of flimsy cardboard at the bottom of the tower, trying to formulate his best plan of attack to make his sorting as painless as possible. 

He’s thankful that his brain has always worked in a way that allows him to analyze things so quickly, doing some quiet calculations in his head as to the most effective and efficient way to sort through god knows what may be hidden in the pile his mom has created for him. 

He runs his hand through the still messy curls of his morning bed head before selecting what feels like the lightest boxes and moving them off to the side, opening up a cardboard container from the next layer. 

Besides the trophies still in his room, every prize he’d ever won for every sport he’d ever played sits in the box below him. Frankie chuckles to himself, picking up some from the top to examine them, thumb gliding over the fake gold plating to read plaques like “Florida Junior Divisional Freestyle Swimming Finalist- 2005” or “Regional Championship Winners- Florida Firebirds 2007” glued to poorly sculpted plastic statues of swimmers. A few more medals and certificates had sunk to the bottom of the box, Frankie quickly grazing through its contents before rehoming it to the “trash” pile, unsure of when he would ever need proof he won several swimming competitions in high school. 

The next few boxes were more of the same- His varsity jacket, old t-shirts he wouldn’t stand a chance fitting into, considering the gangly figure that stretched them more than a decade ago, some old books from high school he’d only kept because of how much you loved them and he promised you that one day, he’d read them, too. 

It’s the shoe box that catches his eye next, sure that no matter how much his mom loved to hoard, whatever was in there most definitely was not a raggedy, holy pair of Converse from high school. 

It’s not until he picks up the box that he knows exactly what’s inside. It’s one of the lightest things he’s picked up in the last hour, but when he knows the weight of its contents, his arms want to tremble. 

It’s with a long deep breath that he brings the shoebox over to an open patch of floor, letting out a grunt and cursing his knees as he sits down cross legged with the box in front of him. He gently flips open the lid, hand running over his face and down the back of his neck when his suspicions are confirmed. 

Open envelopes spill out over the edges of the worn cardboard, the box stuffed to the brim with every letter you’d ever written to him while he was away.

Even if he wanted to, he’s not sure he could ever physically bring himself to throw them out. Those letters have more miles on them than most people’s cars will ever reach in a lifetime, flimsy, stamped pieces of paper following him to every corner of the globe he’s traveled to. 

Some letters he’s read so much, they’re worn on the edges where he’s held the paper, smudging the pen that’s reached the sides of the pages. Others, he’s only read once. He’s not sure he could ever bring himself to read them again. But regardless of their contents, he’d made a promise to you they’d stay with him. 

“Better not get rid of those letters, Morales. Do you know how many hand cramps I’ve given myself trying to find the words to send halfway across the world to you? You better promise me you’ll keep ‘em.”  

His commitment to the folded pieces of paper ring in his ears as his fingers drag across the tops of the open envelopes. He can’t help the way his index finger and thumb pinch the paper below his grasp, carefully tugging a random letter out of its shoebox storage. 

It’s a gut wrenching gamble, the game he’s about to play, a roulette of making his heart ache from joy or pain depending on the one he chooses to pull. He’s already placed his bet as he pulls the lined piece of paper out of the envelope- He’s not getting the money he’s already placed on the table back, so he might as well pray he makes a return on his investment. 

With one more deep breath, he unfolds the tri-fold creases, ready to watch his bet play out before him. 

August 18th, 2006

Frankie, 

I hope I sent this letter to the right place! I looked on the website and it said to send mail to new recruits (that’s you, Morales), to this address, so no one better be holding my letter to you hostage. 

Anyways, how’s training so far? Did they make you shave your head yet? I hope not. I’m not sure why the Army insists on making you all look like Dr. Evil from Austin Powers. I’m sure you’ll still look cute even with short hair! I don’t think I can say the same for Santi, but you didn’t hear that from me… hehehe 

I just moved into my dorm yesterday! My roommate seems pretty nice. Her name is Jessica and she’s from Georgia. She claims that she’s neat and she better be, or I may lose my mind. I’ll send you pictures of my dorm once it’s all set up! It’s kind of a mess right now, but I made sure to put the picture of us from prom up on my desk :)

I don’t start class until next Tuesday. Hopefully I’ll meet some new people in my dorm or on the soccer team so I’m not a total loser with no friends. LOL. 

Have you met anyone new yet? I can’t wait to hear all about your new Army friends! I already started a countdown calendar until we can see each other again. Only 70 days until basic training is done and I can hear about everything in person! 

I miss you a lot. I know that’s dumb to say because it’s only been a week, but still. I wish I would have kissed you again before you got on the plane to leave. I promise I will when I see you. Nothing says perfect place to kiss like South Missouri, romance capital of the USA (haha). 

I know you’re gonna be busy, but write me back when you have time. The return address on the envelope is my dorm address, so use that, or risk Doug and Michelle reading your mail if you send it to my house!!! I can’t wait to hear from you. Miss you, weirdo. 

From, 

Kenz :) <3

His luck of the draw sends a wave of relief through him, smiling down at the curvy loops of your perfectly neat printing signed at the bottom of the page. It makes his heart skip a beat, the same kind of butterflies coming to life in his stomach as they did the first time he read it. He’s earned his money back and then some. He gets how casinos never go broke, because the high of good fortune is enough to have him reaching back into the box to put another gamble on the line. 

October 13th, 2009

Frankie, 

I always feel dumb sending multiple letters before I hear back from you, but you know me, I love to worry. I know you can’t tell me where you are right now (stupid military and their secrets for the safety of society lol) but I’ve been seeing stuff on the news and it makes me scared for you. I just hope wherever you are, you’re safe. 

My dad’s cancer is back. He’s been in the hospital for almost two weeks now. They found a new mass on his liver, but they said hopefully they can target it with radiation before it starts to spread. Cassandra at the front desk asked how you were when I was at the hospital yesterday. I said that you were good. I think she’s only asking because if you’re not there, there’s no one to keep me from burning a hole in the waiting room carpet. 

I wish you were here. I feel really lost right now. I just know if you were here, you’d find a way to make everything better. You always do. 

Sorry this letter isn’t longer. I haven’t been sleeping that great and don’t have enough brainpower to write something decent. Just wanted to let you know what’s going on.  

Counting down the days until you make good on your promise. I hope you come home soon, Frankie. 

Kenzie 

He curses himself for an unlucky draw, heart sinking at the tear stains smearing the blue ink of your trembling letters. An overwhelming wave of guilt washes over him, vivid memories of reading your notes in his bunk alone, wishing there was a way he could fly halfway around the world for a night just to hold you and tell you that everything was going to be okay. 

It’s the addictive itch in the back of his brain that makes him decide to pull one more letter from the box, taking one last gamble to see if he can prove the nagging pit in his stomach to quit while he’s ahead, wrong. 

February 4th, 2011

Hey, 

If you don’t want to write anymore, that’s fine. I was trying to be friendly, but clearly you don’t really care. Just let me know and I’ll stop bombarding you with mail you obviously don’t want. Or I guess you not responding is letting me know. If you want to send anything back you can send it to my parents house. I’m moving into Liam’s house and it’s only 20 minutes away so I can just drive there and pick it up. No need to send you a new address you probably aren’t going to write to, anyways. 

I guess I’ll see you when I see you. 

MacKenzie 

And that’s how Vegas will always stay in business. 

Because now Frankie is forced to walk away, all his money stolen from him at the stupid risk he’s decided to take. The one letter he’d give anything not to read again is the one he had to pull. 

Heat seethes in his chest- he can’t quite explain why. Because he lost at a rigged game he’d set up for himself? That he still hasn’t quite come to terms with the ugly truth of what he put the both of you through? That he wishes with everything in him, he could go back and change what he’s done? 

Or maybe, it’s because now might be the last chance he has to fix what he’s broken, and he’s not sure he’ll ever be able to live with himself if he can’t.

He leaves the pile in the basement unfinished, shoes barely tied to his feet before he bursts out the door in a sprint.

He's not sure where he's going. He's not even sure how long he's run for. All he knows is the pounding of his feet against the pavement, trying to outrun the stupid decisions of his past.

He tells himself if he runs fast enough, he'll beat them.

If he goes far enough, they'll be forgotten.

If he outraces them, you'll be there waiting for him at the finish line.

@chaotic-iguana @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

@3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @raspberrybesitos

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @milly-louise

@jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled

@pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @vee-bees-blog @itsokbbygrl

@hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr

@amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild

@copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @jolapeno @ovaryacted

@amanitacowboy @mystickittytaco @anoverwhelmingdin @greenwitchfromthewoods

@witchofthedeepwoods @ericamarie093 @readingiskeepingmegoing @whimsiwitchy @whoaitspascal87

@vickie5446 @katw474 @ravenpoe67 @inthedarkestnight @brittmb115

@harryscherrysugar @wonderpillar @sunnytuliptime @pasc4lfuzz @yesjazzywazzylove-blog

@kungfucapslock @vannabanana1995

@javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

[leclarifies]

THE NUMBER YOU HAVE DIALED IS CURRENTLY UNAVAILABLE (LN4)

✰ lando norris x ex!reader ✰

summary → in which lando keeps dialing your number even after you've changed it.

genre → angst (im not sorry)

word count → 2.1k

author's note → remember how i broke ur hearts with carlos sainz angst for my first fic about him? YEAH HERE'S THE LANDO VERSION!!!!!!!! i know yall love it either way so, enjoy reading! very short btw, i just wanted to put something out for today

"where did we go wrong? i know we started out all right. where did we go wrong? i swear i knew we'd last this time." - lany, "13"

it takes three rings.

then he hears that stupid automated voice again, "the number you have dialed is currently unavailable or disconnected, please try—"

"for fuck's sake."

after he ends the attempted call, the furious typing is apparent in the empty, dark room. the artificial keyboard clicking fills the room as he tries his best to reach her. it's futile really, with every text he sends, the more agitated he becomes.

he knew that he shouldn't do this, that she was probably trying her best to move on, but he couldn't. he couldn't let her slip away from his grasp so easily.

"i just want you here for my races, is that so hard to ask for?" lando sounded desperate, he was desperate. he was a guy who needed his girlfriend and it didn't help that his girlfriend couldn't be there with him when he needed it the most, especially at times like these.

she was tired, he could tell, he didn't want to turn this into an argument but he was going to base it off of how she was going to respond, "lando, i can't. you know this. i have family here that i need to support, i can't just quit—"

"i'm not asking you to quit, i'm asking you to come just when you can," lando ruffled his hair so hard that it hurt, "the races are on weekends— for fuck's sake! why can't you just listen to me and actually hear what i'm saying?"

"i am listening! you're not listening to me!" she had tears in her eyes now, he hated it. he hated when he got riled up like this. it wasn't her fault, he knew it but he wanted her around him at least every few races, he hadn't been able to see her on the paddock at all this year and it pained him.

an exasperated sigh leaves his lips and he tries calling again, he knows she's not gonna pick up. he knows that he's probably blocked everywhere, but he wants to try. he wants to talk. he just wanted to fix things.

"the number you have dialed is—"

the next thing he heard was his phone shattering against the wall after he threw it across the room.

it was only two days later when he got a new phone and tried again, it wasn't going to go through. he knew it, but he just wanted to try. he wanted to show her that he was willing to make a compromise with her, just to make sure that she was there for him.

he didn't understand why he raised his voice so easily when it came to her, maybe because emotions ran high and he didn't know what else to do to express himself. he didn't know. all he knew was that he was a selfish prick and he deserved all of this.

he tried again.

"the number you have dialed is cu—"

he wanted to smash that brand new phone into the wall like its predecessor but he held himself back, he knew that the money that was needed to buy him a new phone was priceless to him, he was a formula one driver. it was pennies to him. all that money and he couldn't keep the most priceless thing to him, her.

he didn't care how selfish it sounded, or how convoluted their issues were. he just wanted her here, to hug, to kiss, to just comfort him. he had so many things on his mind right now and it could've been solved just by a simple touch and kiss to the forehead.

he was losing his mind and he knew it.

something akin to a sob bubbles from his throat when he hears the automated voice again.

"the number you have dialed is currently unavailable or disconnected, please try again later."

he fucked up, he knows now. she didn't have to rub it in his face like this, by changing her number and disappearing off of the face of the earth.

he just wanted to be home.

gentle knocking wakes her up from her slumber, it's unusual to get guests at this hour and on top of that, she wasn't expecting anyone. a huff escapes her lips as she gently takes the covers off of her and sits up on the bed. the knocks become more persistent as she begrudgingly gets up from her comfortable bed.

at first, she contemplates whether she should open the door or not but she opens it against her better judgement, her eyes widening when she realizes who it was.

"lando, what are you doing here? aren't you supposed to be in aus—"

she gets engulfed in a hug before she could even utter another word.

inhaling her scent after so long had been a breath of a fresh air for lando, he missed her. she's confused on how lando even knows where she lived. she had moved out of her last flat to avoid him on purpose, and now he's here, when he's supposed to be all the way in australia getting ready for a race.

his hug wasn't reciprocated, unfortunately for him.

"lando—" she was cut off by her ex standing in front of her, his eyes were glassy, puffy, like he had been crying all the way from australia to here.

"i just wanted to see you, that's all."

"we broke up two months ago, you can't just show up in front of my flat like this."

"i know but—"

"there aren't any buts lando, didn't me changing my number make it clear to you?" she folded her arms in front of her chest, her hair was still a mess from sleep and she was in pajamas, but her eyes were nowhere near his, not wanting to have any type of eye contact.

lando could only look down on the ground in embarrassment, he knew it was wrong. he knew he shouldn't have asked her friends where she lived, all of them had turned down his questions, telling him that she wanted nothing to do with him anymore but it wasn't anything a little persistence couldn't solve.

"is that all? you have a race to catch," she didn't even give him the chance to speak before trying to close the door on his face, but he blocked it with his foot, he wanted to talk. to fix things. he knew that things were irreparable but he wanted to try.

lando pushes the door open, despite her insistence of not letting him in, "i want to fix things, love—"

"there's nothing to fix lando, we're done. we've been done. what part of done do you not understand?" she was on the verge of tears, she didn't want to end it with lando, no, not at all but she felt that it was best for the both of them, she couldn't provide him with what he needed and he couldn't with her either, so it was best to just separate because why be in a relationship when you don't feel the love?

her eyes were still on the floor, not even daring to look up at lando's. it hurt for her too of course, just throwing away their year-long relationship out the window when the beginning of their relationship was so lovely, but now all there was is resentment and she didn't want that in her relationship.

lando couldn't utter anything out his mouth, he was stuck in place by her words. he let himself in earlier after he pushed the door open, he gently closed the door behind him before sighing, "we didn't even talk about it, you just decided for yourself that you didn't want to be apart of this anymore, you didn't even wait until my race ended before i could respond. how can i let it go?"

she swallowed the lump in her throat as she looked out the window, still refusing to look at lando, because she knew that if she did, she would start crying, "you just do lando. sometimes break-ups aren't always mutual, sometimes it's one person who doesn't want to be in a relationship anymore. it takes two to tango."

lando tousled with his hair, what could he say to that? she wasn't wrong. she couldn't deny the hurt and sadness that was in his green eyes, she hated that she made him feel that way but they were nothing. they've been broken up. by definition, they didn't have anything to do with eachother anymore, but she still had that care inside of her heart for him. after all, it had only been two months.

"just hear me out, and by the end of tonight, if you don't want to see me anymore, i'm gone. i won't try to contact you anymore," lando gave an ultimatum and she was fine with that, because she knew well that whatever he said, she would still say no.

she sat down on her couch, patting the space next to her to at least give him some sort of hospitality, wanting to hear him out even though she was steadfast in her decision.

"i won't bug you to come to my races anymore, i'll even help you with helping your family—"

"you can't throw money at this problem, lando."

"i'm not throwing money at it, i'm just saying that it's an option and you can take it if you feel like you need it," lando's voice was always pleading— begging for her to hear him out. he wasn't that type of guy, never. all of his exes got the same type of treatment, if they said that they were done, then lando wouldn't even bother.

he was a formula one driver, he didn't have the time.

but for her, he did.

she looks up, her arms still folded in front of her chest, legs curled up beneath her as she tries to find a comfortable position in an uncomfortable situation. glancing at the clock on the coffee table, it read in bright red neon numbers that it at 4:27 am, far too early or late for him to be here.

"we've had a similar conversation before, and i refused. so i'm refusing again," she sighs before meeting lando's eyes for the second time tonight, "i don't understand why you would want to keep this relationship. it doesn't benefit you for dating a poor girl."

"do you really think i care about your financial status?" lando asked, almost if it the thought of him caring about his (ex)girlfriend's financial status was ridiculous. he didn't care, it's the way she made him feel for the entirety of last year. she made him feel whole, like even if the world was against him, she would still be there.

she was used to men coming into her life who could think that they could "save" her and lando was no different to all of those other men. sure, she was definitely struggling trying to pay for her younger siblings education while working and pursuing her degree at the same time but that doesn't mean she was a damsel in distress and she expressed that to lando.

lando closed his eyes in frustration, "no, i didn't mean it like that—"

"well you sure as hell worded it like that," she looks away from him yet again, refusing to meet his eyes again until he had to leave. her eyes were glued to the window that overlooked the city, it was beautiful, calming— peaceful even, "i'm not changing my mind lando, we're worlds apart. i don't need you helping me, i can take care of myself."

with that, lando bit his lip and she ushers him out of her flat.

it had been months since lando's seen her, but he never forgot. he couldn't. the way she smelt, the way she laughed, everything still stuck in his brain as he continued his career.

the world didn't revolve around him, so the show must go on.

calling her old number had also become routine, almost an obsession. every finish, every weekend, anything that had to do with his career, lando would try and call her and tell her how his races were going, as if he wasn't talking to an automated robot on the other end of the line. the automated voice was practically his best friend because he's heard the damn voice so many times.

"the number you have dialed is currently unavailable or disconnected. please try again later."

and try again later he would.

he didn't understand himself, was it an obsession or was it the comfort that it gave him when he dialed her number? he didn't know. but sometimes he would hold up that phone to his ear and talk as if she was on the other end of the line, even though lando knew that there was no one waiting on the other line for him, not anymore.

but, the show must go on, right?

[ilyrafe]

𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒚𝒆𝒕 ✧ 𝒅. 𝒔.

pairing: drew starkey x f!reader

warnings: miscarriage but its so fluffy yall :((

word count: 1.2k

a/n: this is so shitty y’all i’m sorry djfjdk

pls he looks so cute here

when you said you wanted him to enjoy the moment with his family, he thought it was strange, but he didn’t argue. you’ve always understood how close he is to his family, and this moment in his career is important, you want him to celebrate with his parents, siblings, and closest friends.

you’ve only been together for a short time, and you’re not close enough to his family to be at family gatherings, you don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable.

“we can celebrate later, just you and me.” you said, sealing your promise with a kiss, before you left his apartment, three days ago.

drew found it strange, but he thought you were just giving him space, which he appreciated. after a lot of family celebration, he went to your place, ready to spend at least a whole weekend, which you loved. there’s so much to talk about.

when you think about it, you didn’t think this thing with drew would go as far as it has been, because his schedule is chaotic and so is yours. when you first met, he was about to go to morocco to shoot outer banks, but he kept texting, calling.

“i know this is kinda all over the place right now, but i wanna see where this is going. do you?”

“i do.”

and that was it. you knew then and there, with only three weeks of dating (online dating for the most part), that you were in love. he’s so sweet, and so silly, too. somehow, you trust him. after being let down so many times, he’s made you feel safe from day one.

you’re not scared to tell him.

you’re on your bed, just waiting for him to get out of the shower. you’re barely paying attention to the tv, you’re just mindlessly scrolling through reels on your instagram, just waiting.

he comes out, shirtless, with damp hair and wearing the sluttiest thing a man can wear - black boxers that fit him just right. he’s such a beautiful man.

“d’you wanna take a picture?” he jokes when he catches you staring.

“you do it on purpose, don’t you?”

“of course i do.”

he gets under the covers and immediately latches onto you, resting his head on your chest. all he really wants is to feel you near him. it turns out, he wanted you with his family. he wanted you there, he wanted to properly introduce you to his loved ones, but maybe you’re not ready and he’ll give you all the time you need.

“i’ve missed you so much,” he says, his voice muffled by your skin.

you smell like french vanilla, and he loves that scent on you. he delights himself in your touch, when your nails lightly scratch his scalp and the nape of his neck.

“i’ve missed you, too. very much.”

he smiles against your skin and takes a long, deep breath, finally allowing his body to relax.

“um… so, i was kind of wanting to talk to you.” you say, trying to sound calm. well, you are calm, but you are also just a tad nervous.

he sits up, no longer relaxed.

“what is it?”

you sigh, look down and extend your hands, as a silent request for his. drew understands and places his hands on yours. your face is serene, but he can tell something is wrong.

“babe, tell me. i knew something was wrong, you were too distant these last couple of weeks.”

you chuckle - you can’t hide anything from this man.

“i’m gonna preface it by saying that i am okay, i am fine, but something did happen, and i’ve debated whether or not i should tell you, and i thought that you deserve to know.”

“you’re scaring me.”

“no, please, it’s… it’s okay. just let me say it all first and then you can speak, okay?” drew doesn’t respond, but you take his silence as a nod. “so, a few weeks ago, i was taking a shower and felt a weird abdominal pain, and then there was blood. i wasn’t on my period, so i got a bit scared and went to the hospital. i had a few tests done and found out… um…” you trail off, because this is surprisingly hard to talk about. he lightly squeezes your hands, encouraging you to keep going. “i had a miscarriage.”

oh.

wait.

what?

“a miscarriage?”

“i didn’t know. the doctor explained that it was common for women to have a miscarriage before even knowing they were pregnant.”

drew is quiet, absorbing the whole information. you were pregnant, and didn’t even know it. you had a miscarriage and he wasn’t there for you.

“why didn’t you tell me? i would’ve taken the first flight back to be here with you.”

“i know you would, that’s why i didn’t.” you explain, kissing the back of his hand right after. “also, i needed to figure it out by myself first. i was shocked to learn through a miscarriage that i was pregnant. it was a lot to process.”

“i can’t even imagine. but… how are you now?”

“i’m okay, i promise. i have one last appointment next week.”

“i’ll go with you.”

“okay. that’d be great, actually.”

he sighs, a bit relieved. at least you’re okay.

“i thought you should know because, well, i was pregnant. and if nothing had happened, i would still be pregnant, and i know it’s early, we haven’t talked about these things and i’m not pressuring you to do or say anything, but i still wanted you to know. felt really wrong to keep this from you.”

“no, you did the right thing.” he says, kissing the back of your hand. “i’m just sorry you went through all of this alone.”

“it’s okay, though. i wanted you to be the first person to know. and maybe the only one. i don’t think we should tell anyone else about this. like, it’d be just… pointless.”

“right. but, uh, if you do want to talk about kids, we can.”

“oh?”

“i mean… i’ve thought about it.” he admits. “i’m the eldest of the family, my mom has already started asking me for grandbabies, she says liliana needs a cousin.” you giggle. “but at the same time, the life i live today wouldn’t be possible with a kid, if i’m honest. i barely have time to sleep, let alone raise a child, and if i’m meant to have kids, i want to be there.”

“when i would think about children, i thought about pregnancy and how i needed to avoid it like the plague during my teenage years,” you laugh. “even when some of my friends got pregnant, i never really saw myself in their position, you know? i guess it wasn’t a priority for me, and still isn’t, but… i’m not ruling it out.”

“i’m not either.”

“so… there’s that.” you shrug, relieved that it all went well. “thank you for listening, i was a bit nervous.”

he nods, completely enchanted by you. he wishes he could navigate difficult topics the way you do. so natural, so easy. you seem to have your shit together and he’s so jealous of that.

“you can always tell me anything.”

“i know.”

“if something like this happens again, tell me. i don’t want you to go through anything bad alone ever again, okay?”

you nod, letting him hug you. oh, you love him.

“we’ll have plenty of time to talk about it and other stuff, too.”

i love feedback! let me know what you think!

[this-lovely-universe]

Lore Drop/Open Starter/who knows: Throw a punch

Finley & Anastasia

(I got a little carried away here and accidental wrote more then an open starter

anyways if you don't want to read the writing part, just skip to the *** and the open starter starts there)

It was a peaceful day, surprising.

Finley and Anastasia were just sat out the front of the Chaos cabin together, as they normally were.

It was a nice moment. Until it wasn't.

A girl had come up to them. "Are you Darrel Baird's daughter?"

Anastasia immediately tensed. "sadly."

"Why the hell would you lie about him? He did nothing wrong."

"Why the hell would you just come up to her and say that?" Finley asked, standing up.

"No one asked your opinion, you-"

"I suggest you think before you speak." Anastasia spat.

"Oh please, no one finds you intimidating." The girl sneered.

"Do you want to get punched?"

"Fin that's really not-"

"Oh yes, it is. You know it."

The girl rolled her eyes. "You gonna answer the question, Annabelle?"

"That's not my name and you know it."

"Sorry, Anaya."

Anastasia took a breath. "Whatever my father is spewing on his twitter account is bullshit."

Finley put a hand on her shoulder. "You don't have to tell her this." She whispered.

Anastasia smiled weakly at her. "It's fine."

"You sure?"

"Would you two stop whispering about me? I'm right here." The girl crossed her arms.

Finley rolled her eyes. "It literally wasn't about you."

"Oh yeah, sure. That's as truthful as what you said about your father."

"Would you mind your business?" Anastasia asked her.

"It is my business." She defended.

"How?" Finley eyebrows furrowed.

"Oh whatever, you clearly just want a fight." Anastasia gently pulled Finley's arm. "Come on, Fin."

The girl threw something at Anastasia's head. "Don't walk away from me, you useless sack of-"

She didn't get to finish her statement before Finley had punched her straight in the face.

"What the hell is your problem?!"

"Finle-"

The girl glared at her for a second, holding her nose, before punching her back.

She stumbled back, before smacking her head on the stairs.

"Finley!" Anastasia, crouched next to her as Finley groaned.

The girl, having probably realised what she'd done, ran.

Anastasia paid her no mind, just looking at Finley.

"Shit- you're bleeding." She said shakily. "Come on, just stay awake and I'll get you to the infirmary."

"It's not that bad." She sat up.

"Finley, it is- woah, slow down!"

She blinked the dizziness away. "It's-"

"Finley Morgan Zavala, if you say it's fine right now, I will tie you to a cot." She slowly pulled her up and put some of her weight on her.

Finley huffed, but struggled to not let Anastasia take care of her. "Fine."

"Good. Come on, you need patching up."

***

Anastasia came into the infirmary, helping a bleeding Finley.

It wasn't anything serious, nothing some ambrosia couldn't fix, but Anastasia looked one comment away from losing her shit.

"Can you help?" She asked.

"Anastasia, this is the fucking infirmary." She groaned.

more Annie and Fin content yippee

I can't tell if it's good or shit

oh well, it's here for the vibes

@arisdaughter @childofthewargod @dianedantedominic @theorphicforest

@this-rose-has-thornes @ithacas-prince @daonedaonlyskh @hispanic-child-of-hermes @aria-pane @unhinged-waterlilly

@chaos-pers0nified @ariathemortal @i-was-never-sane @gaygirldoodles @smileyalater

@if-i-could-cry-i-wouldnt @hellincarnation

If you want to be added, removed or if I forgot to tag you, let me know :)

[msriri030]

Saving By Hare Pt2: The Love Doctor

Mafia!König x Doctor! Reader

Cw: mention torture and drugs. afab!reader but try most to be gn.

Horangi was walking down the hall when his attention was caught by Hutch and Roze standing in front of a one-way mirror. Curiosity piqued, he asked, "What are you up to?"

"Watching the boss torture an enemy underling," Roze replied, her eyes glinting with amusement as Hutch chuckled happily at the scene unfolding before them. 

Raising an eyebrow, Horangi stepped closer to the window. He saw König pacing back and forth, visibly anxious, as he spoke to the enemy, who looked increasingly unsettled. Suddenly, König slammed his hand down on the table, causing the enemy to flinch.

"What’s the torture?" Horangi asked, confusion etched on his face. Hutch smirked, adjusting his shades. "The boss is asking for romantic advice from Deadman."

Horangi sighed, watching König slowly lower himself into the chair across from the captive, his hulking frame almost too large for the delicate wooden seat. His fingers tapped rhythmically on the table, a nervous habit uncharacteristic of the usually imposing man.

The captive, a wiry man with a bloodied nose, looked utterly bewildered. Sweat dripped from his brow as he stammered, “W-why are you asking me? I don’t—I don’t know anything about dating!”

König leaned forward, his icy blue eyes narrowing as he demanded, “Then what do you know about wooing someone? Surely you’ve liked someone before. Speak.”

The man fumbled, glancing toward the one-way mirror in silent desperation, as if pleading for a rescue that would never come.

Roze stifled a laugh, crossing her arms as she leaned against the wall. “I never thought I’d see the day. Our Big bad Boss, König,…asking a guy who can’t even keep his own teeth in his mouth for advice on romance. This is priceless.”

Hutch let out a low chuckle, pushing his sunglasses up. “The boss is down bad. I mean, look at him—he’s got the guy more scared of giving the wrong pickup line than getting shot.”

Inside the room, König pinched the bridge of his nose, visibly frustrated with the captive's nonsensical answers. The poor man was a stuttering mess, rattling off clichés like, ‘Buy them flowers,’ and ‘Compliment their eyes.’

König growled softly, not out of anger, but sheer exasperation. “This is useless.” He stood abruptly, the chair scraping loudly against the floor, causing the captive to flinch again. König loomed over him, arms crossed, his massive frame casting a shadow over the trembling man.

“I don’t need basic advice!” König barked, his voice deep and commanding. “I need something… meaningful. Specific. If you were trying to win someone over—someone kind, strong, and… special—what would you do?”

The captive blinked up at him, wide-eyed and utterly lost. “I—I don’t know! Cook for them? Write them a letter? Please, man, I don’t even have a girlfriend!”

Horangi, watching from the other side of the glass, finally sighed and turned to Hutch and Roze. “This is pathetic. Should we step in before he kills the guy with his awkwardness?”

“Nah,” Hutch replied with a grin. “This is better than TV. Besides, it’s not like the guy’s bleeding out or anything.”

Roze tilted her head, feigning innocence. “You think König will actually take advice from someone who’s tied to a chair?”

Before Horangi could respond, König’s voice boomed again, shaking the room with its intensity.

"Write what, exactly?" He leaned in closer to the captive, who was now shaking like a leaf. "Give me something better than 'flowers' or 'letters,' or I will personally—" He caught himself, exhaling sharply and stepping back, muttering under his breath in frustration.

The captive, desperate to avoid whatever fate his imagination was conjuring, blurted out, "S-surprise them! Do something unexpected! Something only you would do! Something that shows y-you’re thinking about them!"

König paused, straightening to his full height. His imposing shadow loomed even larger over the man as he stared down at him with piercing eyes. Slowly, a glimmer of realization crossed König’s face. He said nothing for a long moment, then gave a curt nod, muttering, “Hmm. Yes. That’s… something.”

The captive sagged in his chair, relief washing over him as König turned abruptly and made for the door.

From behind the glass, Roze covered her mouth to keep from laughing. “I swear to God, he’s going to come back tomorrow with a dozen roses and a poem, isn’t he?”

Hutch snorted, shaking his head. “If he writes a poem, I’m retiring. I’ve seen enough for one lifetime.”

Horangi groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “This is ridiculous. I’m going to make sure he doesn’t do something stupid… like kidnapping them instead of asking them on a date.”

The door to the interrogation room slammed open as König stepped out, his gaze distant, as if he were already lost in thought. He brushed past the group without a word, his broad shoulders rigid and his stride purposeful.

“Yup,” Roze said with a smirk, watching him disappear down the hall. “He’s definitely writing a poem.”

Hutch clapped Horangi on the back. “Good luck keeping him out of trouble. You’re going to need it.”

Horangi sighed again, glancing toward the interrogation room before reluctantly following after König. “This better not end with me having to talk him out of some overly dramatic romantic gesture…”

As the door clicked shut behind him, Roze and Hutch exchanged a look before bursting into laughter, their amusement echoing through the observation room.

It had been a couple of weeks since you last saw König. The memory of that night lingered in your mind, resurfacing at the most unexpected moments. You found yourself wondering—was his wound healing properly? Had he taken care of himself?

The thought gnawed at you as you went about your day, your hands busy with patients, but your mind elsewhere. You had done everything you could to stabilize him that night, yet the worry persisted. Men like him, with their dangerous lives and stoic fronts, weren’t the type to follow medical advice.

You sighed softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face as you closed your clinic for the evening to grab some lunch. The streets were quiet, the crisp winter air biting against your cheeks as you locked the door behind you. You paused for a moment, glancing down the empty street, the faint glow of streetlights casting long shadows.

Was he okay? The question echoed in your mind again, and you shook your head with a small, self-deprecating smile. Why do I even care so much?

But deep down, you knew the answer. There had been something in König’s eyes that night—something that stuck with you. A vulnerability beneath the ice, a fleeting glimpse of someone who, for all his sharp edges and danger, carried a burden far heavier than any physical wound.

And now, you couldn’t help but wonder if he was just okay in general. You groan in frustration kicking a discarded can. Why?! You just met the man. You sighed. You look at the sky a little bit to ground yourself before continuing along your way.  You entered your favorite dinner, Dash out.

The warm, familiar hum of Dash Out greeted you as you stepped inside. The smell of freshly brewed coffee and sizzling bacon wrapped around you like a comforting blanket, a sharp contrast to the biting chill outside. You waved to the staff behind the counter, giving them a tired but genuine smile.

Sliding into a booth near the window, you let out a long sigh and leaned back against the worn vinyl. This was your safe haven—a place where the stress of the day melted away with every sip of coffee or bite of a greasy burger.

A waitress approached, her name tag reading Lisa, her smile as warm as ever. “The usual?”

You nodded. “Please.”

Lisa scribbled on her notepad, her gaze flickering to your face with a touch of curiosity. “You look like you’ve got something on your mind. Long day?”

“Yeah,” you admitted with a small laugh. “Something like that.”

Lisa gave you a knowing nod before walking off, leaving you to your thoughts. You stared out the window, watching the soft, lazy flakes of snow drift down, the streetlights casting a warm, amber glow over the quiet street. Your reflection stared back at you, and for a moment, you barely recognized the furrowed brow and distant eyes.

Your food arrived swiftly, the plate settling in front of you with a soft clink. A classic burger, fries, and a steaming cup of hot cocoa—comfort food at its finest. Lisa let you know the pie was on the house. You took a bite, hoping the familiar taste would provide some distraction, but your thoughts kept drifting back to him.

The sound of the diner door opening pulled you from your reverie. You glanced up absently, expecting nothing more than another weary worker grabbing a late meal or perhaps a family seeking warmth from the biting cold outside.

But before you could focus on it, a pair of warm, calloused hands gently covered your eyes, halting your sip mid-air. A playful, familiar Scottish lilt followed. “Guess who it is, lass?”

You couldn’t suppress a smile, a soft laugh escaping as you tilted your head slightly. “Soap,” you said, the word slipping out with amused certainty.

The hands pulled away with a chuckle, and there he was—grinning like a kid who’d just pulled off the world’s greatest prank. His blue eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned casually against the booth.

Next to him, Ghost stood silently, his imposing figure casting a shadow over the cheerful exchange. He rolled his eyes and scoffed under his breath before turning toward the counter, his gait purposeful as he went to collect the protection money for their boss.

You giggled, glancing back at Soap. “I see you brought Ghost with you on your rounds.”

“Yup, Doc,” Soap said, scratching the back of his neck with mock exasperation. “Didn’t want to, but you know—gangster life’s no walk in the park.” His grin widened, as if the admission didn’t carry the weight it should have.

Before you could respond, Lisa returned, balancing a tray with your pie. She set the plate in front of you with a warm smile. “Enjoy, honey,” she said before bustling off to tend to another table.

“Thanks, Lisa.” You glanced at Soap and tilted the plate slightly in his direction, your voice teasing. “Want some, Soap? Or is gangster life too glamorous for diner fries?”

“Never! That’s like forgetting the roots you came from!” Soap declared dramatically, as if you’d just suggested the unthinkable. “Plus, I love sharing fries with the person who’s saved our arses more times than I can count!”

Without waiting for an invitation, he plopped himself down in the seat across from you, stealing a fry with a triumphant grin.

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head at his antics. As Soap munched happily, Ghost returned from the counter, his dark gaze flicking between the two of you before settling on Soap with a mix of amusement and quiet disapproval.

You looked up at Ghost with a smile, gesturing toward the plate of fries you were now sharing. “Want some?” you offered lightly.

He shook his head, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips under his mask as he slid into the booth beside you. “No thanks, Doll,” he muttered, his voice low and gravelly. “I’ll leave the fry-stealing to him.”

Soap, mid-bite, pointed a fry at Ghost. “That’s because you’re no fun, mate.”

Ghost gave him a sidelong glance, muttering, “I’m plenty fun. Just not when it comes to your greasy fingers all over the food.”

The banter made you smile as you picked up another fry, savoring the rare moment of levity amid the chaos their lives seemed to attract. It was hard not to think back to when you first met them. Soap had stormed into your clinic, practically kicking the door down, with Ghost slung over his back and bleeding profusely.

You’d barely had time to process their arrival before Soap started barking orders—half panicked, half determined. Ghost, even in his weakened state, had muttered something about "not scaring the doc." It had been a whirlwind of blood, adrenaline, and sharp commands, but you’d patched Ghost up, and from that moment on, the two had made you an unspoken part of their world.

Since then, they’d drop by every so often—not just for patch-ups, though those were frequent—but also to walk you home after late nights at the clinic or during their rounds collecting protection money for their boss. You knew the line of work they were in was dangerous, but you couldn’t deny the strange sense of security you felt whenever they were around.

“You’re quiet tonight,” Soap said, snapping you out of your thoughts as he stole another fry. “What’s on your mind?”

“Just remembering how we met,” you said with a small smile, glancing between him and Ghost. “And how you two basically barged into my life like a hurricane.”

Soap grinned, unrepentant. “Aye, but a good hurricane, right?”

Ghost shook his head, muttering, “More like a bloody disaster.”

You laughed softly, their easy camaraderie a welcome reprieve from the weight of your own thoughts. Likewise, your presence seemed to brighten their otherwise cold and chaotic world, though they’d never outright admit it. Yet the way they smiled at you in that unspoken, rare softness said enough.

After finishing your meal, the three of you stepped outside into the biting cold. They insisted on walking you back to the clinic—something they’d done countless times before. As the chill seeped into your bones, you tugged your jacket tighter around yourself, but it wasn’t enough to keep the cold at bay.

Ghost noticed, his sharp eyes catching the subtle shiver you tried to hide. Without a word, he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders. The material was heavy, smelling faintly of leather and a hint of something clean and woodsy.

“Here, Doll,” he murmured, his voice low but kind in its gruffness.

“No, I—It’s okay,” you stammered, feeling a bit flustered by the gesture. “We’re not far from the clinic. You’ll be cold.”

You tried to hand the jacket back, but Soap looped an arm around your shoulders with a grin, stopping you in your tracks.

“And let our favorite doc get sick?” he teased, his tone playful but firm. “Never! Ghost and I have seen enough blood for one lifetime, thank you very much. Now let’s get to the clinic, warm up with some tea, and then we’ll handle the rest of our business.”

You rolled your eyes with a fond smile but didn’t argue. Wrapped in Ghost’s jacket and flanked by the two men, you felt a sense of safety you didn’t often experience. As you walked, the quiet of the night was punctuated by the soft crunch of boots on snow and Soap’s endless chatter about everything and nothing.

For a moment, as the warm glow of the clinic’s lights came into view, you let yourself forget about the dangers that lurked in their world—and your own. The three of you entered the clinic, the familiar scent of antiseptic and faint lavender welcoming you like an old friend. Without hesitation, you all made your way to the break room, a cozy little space you had managed to make feel homier despite the sterile surroundings.

Soap, ever the ball of energy, immediately busied himself grabbing three mugs from the cupboard. “Tea’s on me!” he declared, his enthusiasm almost infectious as he examined the mismatched cups with mock seriousness.

Meanwhile, you filled the kettle, setting it to boil. You handed Ghost his jacket back, and he took it with a quiet nod, draping it over the back of a chair before sitting down. His tall frame seemed oddly at ease in the tiny space, though his ever-watchful gaze remained sharp, flicking from you to Soap and back again.

“Thanks for lending this,” you said softly, glancing at Ghost as you adjusted your sweater.

He gave a slight shrug, his mask concealing any hint of a smile, though his tone held the barest trace of warmth. “Didn’t want you catching cold. You’d be no use to anyone if you’re laid up sick.”

Soap turned around with a playful grin, balancing the mugs in one hand while gesturing dramatically with the other. “See, Doc? That’s as close to a love letter as Ghost will ever get. Cherish it!”

“Don’t push your luck, Soap,” Ghost muttered, though his voice lacked any real bite.

You chuckled, shaking your head as you set the tea bags into the mugs Soap had placed on the counter. Once the water was ready, you poured it carefully, the steam rising and curling in the air. The quiet hum of the kettle, the clink of ceramic, and the shared companionship filled the small room with a sense of peace that felt rare in their chaotic world

 The phone's shrill ring sliced through the comfortable quiet like a blade, cutting Soap off mid-sentence and making Ghost’s gaze sharpen instantly. Pulling the phone from your pocket, you glanced at the screen. The number was vaguely familiar, but as a doctor, you were accustomed to unexpected calls from patients in need.

With a soft sigh, you answered, balancing the phone between your shoulder and ear as you continued preparing the tea. “Hello, this is Dr. [Last Name]. How can I help you?”

A beat of silence stretched on the other end, broken only by faint, shallow breathing. A chill prickled at the back of your neck. Something about it felt wrong.

“Hello?” you repeated, this time with more authority.

The voice that finally responded was shaky, almost desperate. “Hase? Is this... is this you?”

You froze, your heart skipping a beat as the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end. “König? Yes, it’s me.”

You didn’t notice Soap’s eyes widened or Ghost’s gaze turned cold as they recognized the name. König—the mob boss who controlled half the city and the territory just down the street from your clinic. A heavy silence hung in the air before the voice whispered, almost painfully, “Yes, it’s König, my Hase.”

You felt a warmth flush your cheeks, but you quickly brushed it aside, forcing your expression to remain neutral. “What can I do for you?”

There was a brief silence, the sound of steady breathing on the other end before König’s voice returned—tentative, yet edged with a quiet urgency. “I was wondering… if I could take you to dinner tonight at the Diamond Petals. Or tomorrow, if you’re not working. As a thank you… for everything.”  

The request hung in the air, unexpected. Dinner at such a fancy restaurant? You smiled, a soft giggle escaping. “Yeah… I’d love to have dinner with you. Maybe tomorrow, though—I’ll need to shop for new clothes. I don’t have anything good to wear.”  

“Nien,” he replied smoothly, his tone firm yet gentle. “Anything you wear looks like gold.”  

The words, simple yet laced with affection, sent warmth flooding to your cheeks. Your heart skipped a beat, and before you could recover, he added, “What about I pick you up and take you shopping for clothes?”  

His suggestion caught you off guard, and for a moment, you were speechless, your mind racing to process the unexpected offer. Meanwhile, Ghost and Soap, lingering nearby, exchanged knowing glances. The palpable tension in the air was broken only by the sound of their deliberate throat-clearing, an unsubtle reminder of their presence.  

“Sure,” you finally managed, your voice slightly flustered. “I’ll send you the location of my clinic then… see you later.”  

You ended the call, the phone still warm in your hand as you set it down on the counter. Ghost calmly lifted his mask just over his nose, sipping his tea with deliberate slowness. The corners of his eyes crinkled ever so slightly, a subtle sign of amusement, while Soap, never one to miss an opportunity, grinned widely.  

“So~ you’ve got yourself a boyfriend now, eh?” Soap teased, leaning against the counter with a cheeky tilt of his head.  

You blushed furiously, waving your hands in protest. “It’s not like that!”  

Soap’s grin widened as Ghost let out a low chuckle. “Aye, Doc. Whatever you say.”  

Meanwhile, König stood in the dimly lit expanse of one of his warehouses, the sharp tang of metal and oil lingering in the air. His broad shoulders were tense, his posture rigid as he turned to the scene behind him. Vega and Roze hovered over their latest victim—a poor drug shipper whose trembling form bore the tattooed mark of the 141 on his neck.  

The man's muffled gasps and splashes filled the room as Vega pressed his head underwater, his grip merciless, while Roze crouched beside them, her dark eyes glinting with cruel amusement. She glanced over her shoulder at König, an arched brow accompanying her mocking tone.  

“So~ what did she say?” Roze asked, her voice dripping with feigned curiosity as she twirled a blade in her hand, its edge catching the faint light.  

König’s gaze flickered to the struggling man for a moment, then back to Roze, his expression unreadable beneath the shadow of his hood. His fingers curled into fists at his sides, though his voice, when he finally spoke, was calm, almost detached.  

“She said yes,” he murmured, the weight of the words carrying an edge that made even Vega glance up from her task.  

Roze grinned, sharp and predatory. “Look at you, big guy. Dinner at the Diamond Petals, huh? Gonna make it all romantic?”  

König’s towering frame shifted slightly as he took a step closer, his boots heavy against the concrete floor. “Focus,” he said, his voice cold enough to make the room feel even icier. “The questions are not for me.”  

Roze’s smirk faltered, and she shrugged, motioning to Vega, who yanked the man’s head back above water with a violent jerk. The shivering victim gasped for air, coughing and sputtering, as König loomed over him, his massive shadow swallowing the man whole.  

“Now,” König said softly, his tone deceptively calm but carrying an undercurrent of menace. “Let’s try this again. Who sent you?”  

After promising Soap and Ghost that you’d text them after your “date,” you closed up your clinic and waved them goodbye. Their knowing smirks lingered in your mind, but you brushed them off, focusing instead on the evening ahead.  

Standing outside in the cool night air, you waited patiently, smoothing down your outfit one more time to make sure everything was perfect.  

Moments later, a sleek, black BMW with tinted windows pulled up to the curb. Your breath caught when König stepped out. Even with his mask on, you could tell he had gone out of his way to prepare for this. His broad frame was wrapped in a perfectly tailored black button-up shirt and slacks, the subtle sheen of his polished shoes catching the light.  

The faint scent of musk and cedar drifted toward you, the unmistakable aroma of freshly applied cologne mingling with the lingering freshness of a recent shower. You couldn’t help but notice the effort he had put in—it was enough to make your heart skip a beat.  

You instinctively sniffed yourself, worried for a fleeting moment about how you smelled. A wave of relief washed over you when you realized you didn’t smell unpleasant—your perfume still lingered, light and floral.  

“Guten Abend,” König greeted, his voice deep and soft as he extended a hand toward you. “You look… breathtaking.”  

Your cheeks warmed at the compliment, and you smiled shyly, taking his hand. “Thank you. You look great too.”  

He held your hand for a moment longer than necessary, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles before he released it and gestured toward the car. “Shall we?”  

You nodded, letting him open the car door for you. As you slid into the plush leather seat, your nerves began to settle, replaced by a growing excitement. Whatever tonight had in store, it was already starting to feel like something special.  

As the car cruised smoothly toward the eastern side of the city, you stole a glance at König. His focus was trained on the road ahead, his large hands gripping the steering wheel with a surprising gentleness. The soft hum of the car’s engine filled the silence between you, and you found yourself nervously fiddling with the ends of your sleeves, wracking your brain for something—anything—to say.

Your gaze drifted out the window in quiet defeat, watching as the snow fell in lazy flakes, blanketing the streets in a serene glow.

Little did you know, König was locked in a similar mental battle. Small talk had never been his strength. Socializing, in general, was a struggle, a deep-seated insecurity born from years of bullying and isolation. Even now, he could still hear the mocking laughter of his classmates, and feel the sting of their taunts. The only reason he’d entered the mafia world was because a mobster had seen him, bloodied but unyielding, defending himself against a particularly cruel bully.

König let out a heavy sigh, the sound breaking the quiet tension in the car and catching your attention.

“Sorry, Liebling,” he muttered, his voice low and tinged with self-consciousness. “I am not... how do you say? Good at starting conversations. Sorry.”

His admission was so earnest, so vulnerable, that it made your chest tighten. You smiled softly, shaking your head.

“Don’t be,” you said, your voice kind. “I’m not that great at it either.”

You hesitated for a moment, then, desperate to keep the conversation going, asked, “What about your wound? Is it healed?”

Your cheeks flushed as soon as the words left your mouth, and you inwardly cringed. Of all things to ask…

König’s head tilted slightly toward you, and even with the mask, you could tell he was surprised—and perhaps a little touched—by your concern.

“It’s much better now,” he said, his tone warming. “Thanks to you.”

You glanced at him, catching the faintest hint of a smile beneath the fabric of his mask. His hand briefly left the steering wheel to tap lightly at his side. “Your stitches—they hold perfectly. You are... very skilled.”

His compliment made your blush deepen, and you ducked your head to hide your smile. “I just did what anyone would do.”

“No,” he replied firmly, his voice softening again. “Not anyone. You cared.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, and the comfortable silence between you both felt surprisingly warm. You realized something else now—König had called you Liebling instead of his usual Hase. You couldn’t help but wonder about the change, and the question bubbled up before you could stop it.

“König,” you asked, your curiosity piqued, “What does Hase mean? And... why do you call me that?”

The sudden question seemed to catch König off guard. His face, though still obscured by the mask, darkened in a deep flush. He cleared his throat, a nervous, almost sheepish sound, before turning his attention back to the road as he guided the car into the parking lot of a luxury store.

You watched him closely, waiting for him to speak, the soft hum of the engine accompanying the brief pause.

After a moment, he exhaled, his fingers gripping the steering wheel tightly as he parked the car. He took a slow breath, as if preparing himself. When he finally spoke, his voice was more measured, quieter than usual.

“It means... rabbit or hare,” he replied, his voice steady but thick with emotion. “I called you that because... when we first met, your doctor’s coat made you look like a white rabbit in winter.”

The words were simple, but the warmth in his tone made your heart flutter. You blinked, surprised, but then a small smile tugged at your lips. The idea of him thinking of you that way—fragile, maybe, but also somehow strong—was endearing.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, your cheeks warming from his unexpected but sweet reasoning. “A white rabbit, huh? That’s... oddly fitting, I think.”

König shifted uncomfortably in his seat, a faint hint of embarrassment in his posture, but there was something soft in his eyes as he glanced over at you. "I think you were my... safe place. Like how a rabbit would always hide in the snow."

His words settled in the car with a quiet, tender weight that was almost too much to process. You didn’t quite know what to say in response, but the gesture—his quiet affection—spoke volumes.

You couldn’t help but rest your head on König’s arm, a soft giggle escaping your lips. “I’m grateful you see me that way,” you murmured, feeling the warmth of his presence. Then, with a playful smile, you added, “If I can say something... you remind me of a bear. You make me feel so safe, and yet, you’re so strong, but gentle too.”

König’s breath caught at your words, and a soft chuckle escaped him, a deep rumble that made your heart flutter. He gently tightened his arm around you, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “A bear, huh?” he said, his voice warm and almost teasing. “I can live with that. As long as I’m your bear.”

You looked up at him, your heart swelling with affection, and smiled. The warmth between you felt unspoken, but it lingered in the air, like a silent promise. As the two of you shared a quiet moment, you stepped out of the car, his hand brushing against yours. Together, you walked towards the entrance of the store, the soft crunch of snow beneath your feet almost drowned out by the beating of your heart.  

You entered the store, the soft chime of the door marking your arrival. At first, the clerks seemed uninterested in you, going about their tasks as if you were just another customer. But when they noticed König holding your hand, their demeanor shifted instantly. Their attention focused on you, and suddenly, they began pulling out the most elegant, expensive dresses, each more beautiful than the last. Yet, despite their efforts, nothing felt quite right. You sighed, feeling a little discouraged.

"Why don’t you look around while I talk to the clerk?" König suggested, noticing the frustration in your expression. You nodded, giving him a small smile, and wandered off, leaving him to converse with the store manager.

As you walked through the store, you couldn’t shake the feeling of hopelessness. Nothing seemed to catch your eye. But then, in the corner of your vision, something shimmered—something that made your heart skip a beat. A black silk off-shoulder gown with a striking collar. The material looked luxurious, the color deep and alluring, and you felt drawn to it immediately.

Without thinking, you walked straight toward it, your fingers grazing the fabric.

A store clerk, noticing your interest, approached with a polite smile. "Would you like to try it on, Miss?"

"Yes, please," you replied, your voice filled with excitement and a touch of hope. You couldn’t wait to see how it would look on you.

When you slipped into the gown, it fit you like a glove. The silk hugged your curves in all the right places, the off-shoulder design showcasing your collarbones beautifully. You turned to face the mirror, admiring the way the gown shimmered under the lights. To complete the look, you added red heels, their bold color a perfect contrast to the black silk, and slipped on a pair of pearl earrings and a matching necklace that the clerk suggested.

As you turned to take in your reflection, you caught a glimpse of König in the mirror. His eyes were locked on you, a look of awe on his face. He stood there, frozen for a moment, his usual confident demeanor replaced with something softer. The intensity in his gaze made your heart race as you smiled shyly at him.

“You look... breathtaking, Hase,” König murmured, his voice low and full of admiration. His words seemed to hang in the air between you, and for a moment, the rest of the world disappeared, leaving only the two of you. 

You blushed, clasping your hands together. “Thank you, König. I think I’ll take it, but I can’t really let you pay for this. It’s… 2,500! Not to mention everything else–”

“It is a gift for saving my life, Meine Liebe,” König said softly, taking your hand and kissing it gently. His lips lingered for a moment before he pulled back to look at you, his eyes filled with sincerity.

You looked slightly puzzled. “But the dinner—”

“It was a way for me to try to confess my feelings. I’ve fallen in love with you, Meine Liebe. So now, I will properly say it. Will you go out with me, Hase?”

The words hit you like a wave, and for a moment, you froze in shock. Your heart raced as the realization sank in. You could feel the heat rise in your cheeks, your mind spinning. He had fallen for you? The man you had admired from a distance, the one who had quietly made an impact on your life—he felt the same way?

You couldn’t help but smile, your voice soft but steady. “Yes,” you whispered, the word barely escaping your lips, but it was everything. It was the answer you both had been waiting for.

König’s face broke into a smile, his eyes shining with warmth and affection. He pulled you close, his arms wrapping around you in a gentle embrace. The world around you faded once again, and for the first time, you truly felt like you belonged with someone.

The car ride was quiet, the gentle hum of the engine filling the space as König drove you to your apartment. The soft glow of the streetlights passed by, casting fleeting shadows through the window. Neither of you spoke much, but there was a calm, unspoken understanding between you—comfort in each other's presence.

When the car finally came to a stop in front of your apartment building, König turned off the engine and met your gaze. The silence stretched for a moment, but there was no awkwardness, only a sense of warmth and connection.

"You sure you're okay?" König asked softly, his voice carrying that familiar concern.

You nodded with a smile. "Yeah, I'm good. Thank you for everything tonight. It was... perfect."

His eyes softened as he gave you a small smile. "I’m glad you think so."

You opened the door and stepped out, pausing as you turned back to face him. “König?”

“Yes–”

Before he could say anything else, you leaned in quickly, pressing a gentle kiss on top of his mask. The contact was brief, but the warmth of it lingered between you, and you felt your heart race in a way you hadn’t expected.

"Goodnight, König," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath.

"Goodnight, Liebling," he replied, his voice filled with something tender, as his gaze lingered on you for a moment longer. He smiled softly, his expression almost unreadable, but the warmth in his eyes was unmistakable.

As you watched him drive away, you couldn’t help but feel a flutter in your chest. Tonight had felt like something out of a dream, and as you walked toward the entrance of your building, your thoughts swirled with everything that had happened. You were already looking forward to whatever came next.

Back in the car, König blushed deeply, his fingers gripping the steering wheel a little tighter than usual. His heart was pounding, and he couldn’t believe what had just happened. He fumbled for his phone and quickly dialed Horangi, his voice nervous.

“Horangi... you won’t believe it... She kissed me...” König muttered, his words coming out in a rush.

Horangi's voice crackled on the other end, a knowing smirk evident in his tone. “Oh, really now? What did I tell you?”

König groaned, his face flushing even deeper. "Shut up... it was... it was on my mask, but still! She kissed me!"

The sound of Horangi laughing loudly was unmistakable, filling the quiet car. “Man, you’re blushing like crazy. Just wait till the others hear about this!”

König sighed, feeling embarrassed but also a little giddy, as his mind replayed the moment over and over.

Extra

Horangi hung up the phone with an amused look, his eyes scanning the group of mobsters who had been eagerly watching him. The tension in the room was palpable as they waited for his verdict. They had been betting on how König’s confession would go—whether it would scare the girl away, make things awkward, or perhaps be the perfect moment for romance.

Horangi glanced around at the eager faces, then with a dramatic pause, he delivered the news.

“She kissed him.”

The room erupted into chaos. Hutch and Roze both slammed their hands on the table, raging over their bet that it would make things awkward. “I knew it! I knew it was going to be awkward!” Roze grumbled, throwing his hands up in frustration.

Verge groaned from his corner, cursing under his breath. “Dammit! I bet it would scare her off. How did I get that so wrong?”

The only one who remained calm amidst the chaos was Oni, who was lounging comfortably on the couch, casually counting his winnings. A small smirk tugged at his lips as he observed the mayhem unfolding around him. He was the only one who had placed his bet on the doc not being scared away—and as the others argued, Oni leaned back, savoring his victory.

“Easy money,” he muttered to himself, not bothering to glance up at the group.

Part 1

Part 3

[bunni-v1]

hi! congratulations on 500 followers! could you make the full nsfw alphabet list with Idia please? (sorry for the bad English)

🍓I POSTED!!! I've had this sitting in the drafts for a week and I finally decided to post it (YAY!!!). I've also got Jade's qued up for later today, and I'll be working on Azul and Floyds in my free time (when I get free time that is). Sorry I took so long to post, life has been tough on me and I just didn't have the tools to deal with it. I'll be back and posting irregularly until December when I can actually take time and write again.

Idia NSFW Alphabet!

A = Aftercare: Idia Shroud is the WORST at aftercare, and I say this with so much love and kindness to the walking punching bag that calls himself a man. Genuinely though, sex overstimulates him so badly, so he cannot handle anything after the fact. He’s the kind to roll over off you (more like slide you off him) and fall asleep immediately. Of course, he mumbles out something about it feeling good and all that stuff, but 9 times out of 10 he’s out like a light.

B = Body part: He is a thigh man. He doesn’t care if it's thick and meaty, he just wants to rest his head on it. Maybe give it a nibble, if you’d let him of course (consent is key, even for a dirty Otaku like him). For him… he doesn’t like most things about himself, but if you seem to like something about him a lot, he grows to like it too. So if you like his hair, it’s probably his hair, if you like his lips or teeth it’s them. (What can I say, he’s weak for you).

C = Cum: SALTYYYYY! He doesn’t take care of himself what did you expect. It’s unpleasant to taste, and there’s A LOT of it to taste. It’s a pretty thick consistency and really sticky, fun to play with and watch dribble down your stomach and face. 

D = Dirty secret: He wants you to peg him. I wouldn’t say that’s much of a secret, but he thinks it is. 

E = Experience: NONE. Zip, zero, zilch. I make fun of Malleus for being a Virgin, but IDIA IS A VIRGIN. He’ll blush to hold your hand, it’s that bad. However, he does watch a LOT of Porn (Hentai specifically), so he has… an idea of what to do. He’s really nervous first time around, but once he gets comfortable with you he’s pretty good, just a little unrealistic in his expectations sometimes.

F = Favorite position: Doggy! Especially if you’re wearing cute little puppy or kitty ears! He likes watching the way your back arches, and he’s a big fan of pulling your hair or squeezing your hips. Other than that, he loves face-sitting. Surrounded by your thighs, oh that’s a good death for Idia Shroud.

G = Goofy: Initially, he is entirely on accident. He wants to be serious and cool about it, but he’s like a blushing schoolgirl and making a million mistakes. His line delivery is so… cringe and embarrassing you can’t help but laugh. It humiliates him, but eventually, he learns to just embrace it, and he becomes pretty goofy. He loves cracking jokes just to see you smile, cause the one thing he loves more than your thighs has to be your pretty little smile.

H = Hair: I know it’s blue flames too, I just know it. That shit is not tamed either. Like he trims, but honestly it’s hard to control something that's constantly shifting and changing. And, before you ask, yes it does flare up with his emotions like his hair does too. 

I = Intimacy: Depends… Idia isn’t someone I would ever describe as romantic, but he is a sweetie. He likes it hard and rough so it’s hard to say it’s very romantic, but he does like you close and he loves looking at you. You catch him smiling down at you like you’re some kind of goddess sometimes. You won’t catch him saying cheesy lines like how much he loves you or how pretty you are (cause it will actually kill him if he does).

J = Jack off: Mastrubating champ of NRC. He’s alone in his room 90% of the time with unlimited access to the internet and is also an Otaku. Sorry if you disagree, but you’re wrong. I know he gets off at least once a day, more if he has the time. 

K = Kink: Another biter, he just loves marking you up and sending you off with a pretty bruise for everyone to see. He’s a sadomasochist too, depending on whose topping. He wants you to push him around and hit him, make him feel helpless, it’s his favorite thing. Also into pet play, cosplay, roleplaying, and… any kind of play honestly. The weirder the better for him.

L = Location: His room and his room alone. Maybe yours, but he does not trust anyone in your dorm to respect your privacy. Besides, if he’s in his room he knows where everything is, and he can ensure no one will be getting in and seeing you that way.

M = Motivation: Most things, honestly. Be nice to him? He’s hard. Be mean to him? He’s hard. Beat him in his favorite game and act all smug (he let you win)? He’s hard. Lose and pout about it? He’s hard. He’s a sensitive guy, okay, and he thinks everything you do is super hot. Not his fault.

N = No: Share or let someone watch. Absolute nos from him. The idea of sharing you with someone and you like them more? Hah, he’d kill himself. He’s also not a fan of anyone seeing either of you in such a compromising position. He’s too nervous and possessive to let that out of the privacy of his room. Also, this might be controversial, but I can’t see him being into any kind of sibling shit. Too weird for him, he’d never want to think of his precious little brother like that, so why would he want to think of you like that?

O = Oral: He prefers receiving because watching the way you tease him with your sultry gaze as he sinks impossibly further down your throat is… heavenly. Though he isn’t bad at giving either. His tongue is long and boy can that thing move, it can reach places you didn’t even know were possible. Plus his teeth nipping at your most sensitive areas? Praise the seven, that’s good shit.

P = Pace: Fast and rough. He likes to just go at it, and he doesn’t like to stop for anything. Prepare to be pounded into next week with no stops!

Q = Quickie: He likes them, and they’re pretty common, but they’re not his favorite. When he has sex, he likes going for more than one round, and the whole point of quickies is that they’re quick so he doesn’t prefer them.

R = Risk: Yeah, he’s game to try some more risky things, but he’ll back out so fast if he’s uncomfortable for even a second. There are some things he wouldn’t consider, like bringing it out of his room. He’s a big fan of risky texts though. Like, a video of you fucking yourself in the bathroom while he’s in a meeting with the other housewardens? No one’s gonna know if he takes care of himself quickly. 

S = Stamina: He goes for multiple fast and quick rounds. He can usually do about four of them before he’s done for the night, but he’s willing to keep going if he doesn’t satisfy your needs along with his (sometimes).

T = Toys: He has a collection, actually, of really wild shit. Tentacles, ‘alien’ dicks, and even the infamous horse cock. He likes to put a bullet in you and control it from his room, watching you struggle to talk to your friends on the cameras he’s definitely allowed to have access to. 

U = Unfair: He likes to tease, but he forgets to sometimes lol. He gets so caught up in his own pleasure that, occasionally, he’ll just forget he wanted to tease you and make you all sensitive and whiny. He also likes to be teased, so please feel free to torture him when you’re topping <3

V = Volume: He tries very hard to be quiet, but bless his soul he is not. He’s so whiny and whimpery and pathetic, it’s very cute. He wants you to make as much noise as possible so that he can hide his shame, but he’ll still cry into your ear since he can’t contain himself.

W = Wild card: He sometimes prints out the pictures you send to him (with permission) and keeps them in his desk. There’s no real reason why, because he has all of them digitally, but something about having physical pictures is more thrilling to him.

X = X-ray: Hehehe, oh Idia. It is long and it is thick, bless his dad’s genetics. I’m talking like almost seven inches big, like… he’s big. It’s veiny, with one really prominent one on the top that runs from the base to just below his tip. Which, by the way, is blue like his lips. 

Y = Yearning: High, if that wasn’t made obvious before. He craves sex a lot, and it only seems to get worse after he gets with you. You’re just so pretty and perfect he can’t help it <3Z = Zzz: I said it at the start, but it’s near immediate. He gets tired easily after all that physical exertion, he just wants to nap and cuddle, you can clean up in the morning. Let him hold you :(

[airas-story]

Kinder Worlds

“So,” Tony started as Nebula as carefully lined up her next shot. They’d played in silence thus far since Nebula had shown up out of the blue and demanded a game. “Something wrong?” he asked. “You normally don’t just show up.”

“Do you think I can see this Terra?” she asked, instead of responding to his question. “You spoke of ‘hamburgers’ I would like to try them.”

Tony considered her, then decided not to push. He grinned. “Oh, we can try all sorts of things. I’ve got a photostatic veil if you want to go out in stealth mode—“ He’d told her the first time she showed up that she was fine, but she seemed to like ‘stealth mode’. “—though if you want to go as you are, that’s fine.” Most people had gotten used to aliens, the few that hadn’t—Ross came to mind—Tony could handle. “Or we can order in. Whatever you want.”

Nebula gave this her standard due consideration. “I would like to go out,” she decided. “And I will wear the veil. Stealth is imperative; I would prefer people to underestimate me.” She paused. “Perhaps we can visit your spider child. Or your wizard.”

Tony considered that. It was a Saturday, which meant no school. “Peter will definitely join,” he told her. “Picnic in Central Park with hamburgers with you? Yeah, there’ll be no keeping him away. Stephen… Hit or miss if he’ll join.”

Stephen was, unfortunately, almost always busy with something, it could make it difficult to meet up with him, though Tony still thought that every opportunity was worth it. Especially after things had… developed between them in ways Tony would never have expected.

He pulled out his phone and sent out a text to ‘Team Titan’—or at least that was what Peter had named them—to invite them both.

From: Tony Stark

Picnic at Central Park! Nebula’s here!

I’ll provide the food—prepare for burgers.

He shifted so that he could take a selfie of the both of them—something Nebula put up with with a sigh—before sending that along as well.

From: Spiderling

Oh my word! Are we finally introducing Nebula to hamburgers?

Peter always had been quick on the uptake.

I’ll be there!

“That’s Peter decided,” Tony said cheerfully. Who knows if we’ll hear from—“

From: Merlin

I would appreciate far more warning for something of this nature.

I am not at your beck and call.

Tony rolled his eyes. Picnics were always best when they were spontaneous, everyone knew that. Or at least every picnic he’d ever been on had been of the ‘you know what, I want a picnic’ variety and the majority of them had been enjoyable.

Though there had been that time with the ant invasion… he shuddered. Not to be repeated.

And of course, a few had involved drinking and he honestly didn’t remember them, but he was sure they’d been great.

Alas, the difficulty of being sober, that wasn’t an option anymore.

From: Tony Stark

Oh please. Not like I knew Nebula was coming.

Where’s your spontaneity, Stephen?

“All right,” Tony said, standing up. “Let’s get you set to go and then we’ll go get us burgers and other delicious food so you can experience a proper Terran picnic.”

Nebula nodded, satisfied.

His phone dinged.

From: Merlin

I suppose—since Nebula is present—I can condescend to join you for a ‘picnic’.

Tony snorted.

From: Tony Stark

Please, don’t pretend you don’t like me and Peter. We’re absolutely in your top five people.

From: Spiderling

Top four!

Can we get ice cream?

Tony glanced up at Nebula. “How do you feel about ice cream on this spontaneous picnic?”

“I was partial to your ‘Stark Raving Hazelnuts’,” she told him seriously. “I would not mind if we were to indulge in some.”

Tony grinned at her. He still wasn’t entirely certain whether she really liked Stark Raving Hazelnuts, or if it was because she felt that choosing Stark Raving Hazelnuts was a sign of loyalty—and Nebula was nothing if not loyal—and refused to try anything else. “Stark Raving Hazelnuts it is.” And he supposed he could pick up some Hunka Hulk of Burning Fudge for Stephen’s sake.

The traitor.

They got Nebula suited up in a photostatic mask and glove set before heading out. The drive from the compound to the city wasn’t too long and Nebula spent most of the time factually relaying her adventures since the last time she had visited and texting with Stephen and Peter on his phone to finalize their plans.

They made several stops to gather the requisite food before Tony took them to Central Park.

Both Peter and Stephen were already there sitting on a blanket that Peter had brought, when he and Nebula arrived at the spot they’d ended up agreeing to.

Peter proved his priorities by grabbing the bags of food and setting it on the blanket, plopping down and immediately starting to divvy up the food. 

Tony rolled his eyes while Stephen stood, stepping close and pressing a quick kiss to Tony’s lips. Nebula and Peter made a simultaneous disgusted noise as though he and Stephen had started making out in front of them. Tony considered flipping them off, but then decided it was probably not a good idea to set a bad example for Peter and the gesture would be lost on Nebula anyways.

He stepped away from Stephen and grinned up at his sort of, kind of boyfriend.

Stephen smiled back at him.

“Food,” Peter called out, interrupting the moment. “And I’m starving, so if you don’t sit down and eat I’m stealing your food too.”

“I brought enough for even you,” Tony said. Still, he and Stephen both sat down and grabbed their plates and hamburgers.

Tony looked around at the group and their spontaneous picnic, Peter hoarding the food, Nebula examining everything with her careful scrutinization, Stephen sending a knowing smile in his direction.

Huh.

Kinda perfect.

[kingstarkingslay]

Remus’ eyes were narrowed in concentration as his finger hovered over the screen of his phone. His brow furrowed, a telltale sign that he was on the verge of losing yet another round of Tomb of the Mask. It was an intense level, one of those impossible ones that required both precision and the kind of reflexes Remus was convinced only children—or, more specifically, Sirius —could possess. He had been stuck on it for days, and tonight’s attempt was proving to be no different.

Sirius, lounging next to him on the couch, glanced over at Remus, his expression one of exaggerated boredom. “You’re still on that level?” he asked, voice dripping with playful mockery. “I swear, I’ve seen you do this same thing for hours now. What is it, like Level 500 or something?”

“Level 238,” Remus muttered, his thumb swiping in rapid succession across the screen. “It’s… trickier than it looks.”

“Uh-huh.” Sirius snorted and casually stretched his arms above his head. “I bet it is. Need some help?”

Remus paused, his finger hovering in mid-air. He could feel Sirius’ eyes on him, no doubt amused by the way his eyes were glued to the screen. He had made it this far through sheer persistence, and he wasn’t about to let Sirius think he couldn’t handle it.

“I think I’ve got it under control, thanks,” Remus replied with a smirk, his finger landing on the wrong spot, causing his character to die instantly. He let out a dramatic sigh. “Maybe.”

Sirius chuckled. “You sure about that?”

For a moment, Remus glared at the phone, trying to quell the surge of frustration that was bubbling up inside him. He hated feeling incompetent, especially when he was sure that if he just had a little more focus, he could get through it.

Finally, he leaned back against the couch with an exaggerated groan, dropping his phone to his chest. “Fine,” he said, turning to face Sirius with an innocent look that was anything but. “How about you give it a try then, if you’re so confident?”

Sirius raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into that signature smug grin. “Oh, I’m confident, alright,” he said, plucking the phone from Remus’ hands with a casual flourish. “Let me show you how it’s done.”

Remus leaned back, arms folded, watching intently as Sirius’s fingers danced across the screen. To his surprise, Sirius didn’t hesitate. He was all focus, every move sharp and calculated. He breezed through the obstacles with ease, the pixelated enemies falling in quick succession, the traps expertly avoided. It was like watching a magician at work.

Remus couldn't help but stare. How does he do that?

Minutes passed, and within moments—no, seconds—Sirius had cleared the level. Not just cleared it, but mastered it, his character moving with the precision of someone who’d done this a thousand times before.

“Done,” Sirius said, holding up the phone like it was a trophy, his grin now a full-on, victorious beam.

Remus blinked. "How—what—how did you…?"

Sirius shrugged, casually tossing the phone back into Remus’ lap. “It’s all about reflexes, Moony. You should try it sometime.”

“I—” Remus stared at the screen, his brain trying to process what had just happened. “That was… incredible.” He glanced up at Sirius, his eyes wide with genuine admiration. “You just—wow. That was like… effortless.”

Sirius leaned back, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “Told you it was easy.”

Remus snorted, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re insufferable,” he muttered, half-grinning. He couldn’t help it—he was still in awe.

Sirius leaned in a little closer, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “I know,” he said softly. “But you like it, don’t you?”

Remus’ breath caught slightly. He met Sirius’ gaze, feeling his heart skip a beat. The closeness, the teasing in Sirius’ tone, the soft, knowing look—it all seemed to wrap around him, making him feel suddenly warm in a way that had nothing to do with the comfort of the couch or the warmth of the room.

“Oh, I do,” Remus said before he could stop himself. His voice was softer than he meant it to be, and he could tell by the flash of Sirius’ grin that he’d caught it.

Sirius’ grin widened into something a bit more smug, but also undeniably fond. “Well, I’ve always got your back, Moony,” he said, nudging him lightly with his shoulder. “In gaming, and in life.”

Remus couldn’t help but chuckle. He wasn’t sure if it was the flirting or just the sheer absurdity of being here with Sirius—playful, cocky, and somehow always managing to make him feel like the only person in the room. Either way, the effect was the same: his chest felt full, and his smile couldn’t be erased.

"You're impossible," Remus muttered, though he wasn’t entirely sure he meant it.

"Impossibly good at Tomb of the Mask," Sirius corrected with a wink. "But you’re lucky. I’m happy to share my talents with you."

Remus rolled his eyes, but he could feel the blush creeping up his neck. "Next time, I’ll beat you."

“Sure you will, love,” Sirius teased, clearly not convinced. “Sure you will.”

And though Remus was still a little awestruck by Sirius’ effortless victory, he couldn’t help but feel more than a little bit lucky himself. Because even if Sirius was impossible, he was also exactly the kind of impossible Remus wanted in his life.

“Well,” Remus said after a pause, voice dropping in that playful, almost teasing way that was all too familiar between them. “How about we make a deal, then? You can finish this level for me… and I’ll… take you out for dinner.”

Sirius turned, eyes alight with mischief. “What’s the catch?”

“No catch,” Remus said, leaning closer, his lips twitching into a grin. “Just dinner. I think you deserve it, after all.”

Sirius considered this for a moment, then shrugged with a carefree smile. “Well, in that case, I think I’ll let you win the next round.”

“Oh?” Remus raised an eyebrow. “You think you’re that generous?”

“I am when I’m in a good mood,” Sirius said, his voice lowering to a whisper, his eyes flickering with a hint of something more serious now. “And I’ve got a lot of good moods when I’m with you, Moony.”

Remus swallowed, his heart giving an unexpected little flutter. It was only then that he realized just how much he’d been holding his breath.

“Good to know,” he murmured, meeting Sirius’ eyes and feeling the world shrink to just the two of them.

[fairyberkshire]

FALLING FOR SHADOWS | RAFE CAMERON AU

pairings: frat!rafe cameron x female!reader

a/n: here's some texts ! this chapter takes place the day after the party ! i hope you all enjoy !

parts: 2 . . . 3 . . . 4 . . .

There you were, off to the side in a bar, nursing a drink. The music and chatter of people all just a blur in the background to you as you feel disconnected from the crowd– the world. And, as you sit here surrounded by the crowd of the bar, you can’t help but feel isolated.

Your thoughts drifting back to your father…You had earlier had a conversation with Kiara, about her father and how he was always hovered a lot in her life…And you couldn’t help but feel…sad.

Sure, your relationship with your father was long gone. Always having been complicated. And you no longer wanted him in your life…but it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt at times. 

Rafe soon strolls into the bar, spotting you almost instantly from across the room, a smirk on his lips as he walks closer to you…But when he gets closer he notices you're alone and that you seem slightly off. Shoulders slumped, and eyes distant.

And, he hesitates for a moment questioning if he should turn around or not. Wondering if it’s overstepping if he sees what’s wrong…Wasn’t even sure if you’d want his help or want him there.

After all, you two had only known each other for a short period of time…but at the same time. But another part of him– it makes him want to go and comfort you. So he does.

“So…what’s got you standing all alone?” Rafe starts, deciding to go with a more casual start, and you look up at him slightly startled, before quickly brushing off her discomfort with a laugh…But Rafe doesn’t but it, picking up fully that something is wrong. He knows you aren’t acting like yourself.The girl he’s seen before who’s witty and playful. 

And, as he doesn’t say anything back, you just give him a weak smile, dropping your gaze to your drink to avoid having to look at him. 

“Are…you alright? Sorry– you just don’t look like you’re having much fun” He says, and her eyes, flicker up to meet his, before dropping back down, giving him a small shrug.

“Just not my scene,” You say it, but he knows you’re lying. Sure, it wasn’t your scene…but neither were a few other places, and you hadn’t seemed like these before.

“Something’s off– Can tell. You can talk to me, you know” He says, reaching for your drink, gently taking it from you, not even waiting for you to protest. 

“Rafe– really. I’m fine. I just…need some space. Please” Rafe knows you’re trying to push him away, maybe as a defense mechanism…so he doesn’t take it personally. 

“I’m not going anywhere. You don’t have to give me details– I know some things up. But I’m here…”  Rafe says this, and you just slightly roll your eye, but you can already feel yourself slipping to want to tell him. To let him in. But questioning if you should.

“Why do you even care, Rafe?” Your voice wavers slightly, and the crack in it…the vulnerability he can sense slip through…it hits Rafe harder than he expects. So, he pulls you with him to a table, sitting down with you, and for a moment he doesn’t respond, just watches you silently– this isn’t exactly what he’s used to…caring like this.

And sure, he’s been there for his sister at times…but with you, it feels different. “I care– I care because no matter what’s going on right now…I can sure as hell tell you I was probably in worse…And that look you had? The one that tells me that you felt like the world was moving on without you. Like you’re just…stuck. Yeah– I’ve been there. And it’s not something you should face alone…trust me” He admits, and it’s when you look at him, tears welling in your eyes that he feels his heart break.

“It’s stupid…Doesn’t matter–” “If you’re sitting here like this it matters…” His words hold the truth obviously, making you stare at your drink for a long moment, your fingers fidgeting with the rim of the glass, making the condensation smear against the…the words tight in your throat making you feel suffoacated– but his gaze makes it feel like you can say what you need to.

“It’s my father…” You softly say, and his brows furrow slightly, but he doesn’t say anything, giving you the time to say something more. “When uhm…When I was born…he didn’t want anything to do with me. Told my mom that– or some bullshit like that. He just…left. And I– I was okay with that, you know? Like, I told myself that I didn’t need him” You pause, your voice cracking slightly as the next words spill out.

“But then, he’d occasionally just pop into my life out of nowhere– and then when I was fifteen…He decided he wanted to come into my life again…more permanently, like he wanted to make up for all this lost time, making all these promises. And stupid me– stupid me believed him. I believed him. I thought…I thought maybe I was enough..”

You start again, but your hands start to tremble slightly, and all while yours do, Rafe’s do the same under the table…his chest becoming tight as his own mind flickers to his family. The pressure and expectations he’d felt growing up– how his father was never what he needed in a father…So Rafe pulls his hand from under the table, reaching out and letting his fingers softly brush yours to provide you (and himself) some sort of comfort…and it does.

“But then…he’d leave again…And now here I am. I’m 19...I’ve had him out of my life for a while. Blocked. And I don’t even want anything to do with him– But…It still hurts, Rafe” You say, tears falling, as you pause.

“What– What is so wrong with me that I couldn’t stay?.. Why– why wasn’t I enough? Why am I not enough…” Rafe’s jaw tightens as he processes your words, and he’s quiet for a moment, making you wonder if you’ve said too much, but then he starts to speak, and it’s steady and sure.

“There is nothing wrong with you, y/n. Nothing. If your dad couldn’t see how lucky he was to have you in his life he’s an idiot, and that’s on him– not you. That’s his failure. Not at all yours” He says, it, and you blink at him, his words hitting you like a truck.

“And for what it’s worth?...You’re amazing. So amazing. Hell, you barely know me and you’ve already put up with my crap more than most would” You give him a smile, and it’s the first one you’ve given him all night, even as the tears fall down your cheeks…and he too smiles, shifting closer to you, his hand now fully holding yours…

And when he does this, the heaviness in your chest starts to lift,  just a little, and he stays by you– not letting go of your hand as you both just sit in the quiet corner of the bar, and for once, you feel like you aren’t alone.

[sleepymccoy]

Okay so something happened in the trekdom (is that a term anyone has ever used)

I think spirk got canonised?? Or something?? And I assume that as my certified Trekkie Mutual you feel some kinda way about this. you’re a Spones shipper but still how we doing?

I'm sure someone's used trekdom! It makes sense as a word regardless

I appreciate the Trekkie certification lol

Yeah dude, look. Most of the fandom is big into spirk so like people enjoying that romance is par for the course! I got nothing against spirk, it's just a bit of a boring dynamic so I don't really spend time on it. Too healthy for my tastes. Spones is way more juicy, it's got the tension and the sort of different world views that you see in good omens, so it's fun!

To be clear tho, spirk is as canon as it's ever been. Strong subtext, but in the way that a homophobe could watch it and say well they're just good friends. Nothing has changed in that sense, it's just another bit of footage doing more of the same. It's less gay than a lot of the original series, but it's new and shiny so on a surface level i get the excitement

Shatner, who plays Kirk, has done this as a non canon short film. It's apparently considered as canon as the novels? Which is like, not much. Most people don't engage. I haven't really looked into that, im not gonna watch it cos it kind of pisses me off

The thing that really fucks my goat about it is that the guy who plays Spock died a while ago, and didn't get along with the guy who plays Kirk. But the guy who plays Kirk has funded and produced and managed this whole thing to be about his character and his importance, regardless of the wishes of the original Spock actor. Including literally doing someone up in prosthetics to look more like Nimoy. Not just Spock generally, but specifically Nimoy's Spock. Nimoy was involved in star trek films in his late life, and he didn't choose to do this when he was alive. Only after his death has Shatner forced this to happen

That's what's leaving a really bad taste in my mouth. And I feel like people are either not accepting Nimoy's death and are happy to see him puppeted by someone he disliked, which makes me pity them. I work in aged care so I know I'm more comfortable with death than the average, but like. This is a bit fucking dark, no? It's maudlin, let him rest in peace for fucks sake.

That, or they don't mind the manipulation of his image if it tickles their ship, which makes me dislike them. And I don't think I'll really get over that any time soon, it's so disrespectful. And those are both negative feelings, so I'm kind of generally not pleased about my dash rn

I'm trying to take an angle of being about McCoy cos he doesn't feature in the short and that feels wrong. Spock-centric stuff is feeling a little tainted right now, but I'm sure that'll pass. Fanart is different to this kind of image stealing, but it's still weird for me rn. And as much as I love Kirk, I can't remove him from Shatner and his megalomania right now. I hope that'll pass, but I don't think Shatner's gonna stop here so. Hm.

Besides I like McCoy and he's not complicated by all this so I'm just continuing to play in my little sandbox

It's a weird time for trekdom. There's a bit of a rift, and not down shipping lines. I'm seeing a lot of posts working through their complicated feeling around the disrespect inherent in stealing Nimoy's face for Shatner. And I'm seeing other people celebrate the disrespect cos their ship held hands and that makes it worth it.

I'm hoping people overwhelmingly calm down a bit in a week, get a bit embarassed about how pleased they were over something so gross, and it just sort of goes away. Then we can all go back to having a go at Shatner for his constant sexism and homophobia

At least it's not fucking AI tho!

[foodtruckery]

oh my GOD you are so big brain the idea of stan resorting to prostitution when theyre trapped between dimensions and it forcing both of them to come to terms with their issues through what im sure would be a really ugly argument

why am i now imagining ford looping the way stan's voice sounded through his head. wrecked and strained and ford's stupidly big brain is happily filling the gaps in for him about what stan did to sound like that. all the gritty details of imagining stan getting on his knees for someone, how rough it mustve been for him to have slightly red eyes. did they pull on stans hair? was he nothing but a willing hole, relaxing his throat to let them in? or did he actively reciprocate? did he run his tongue along the underside of their cock and hum something meaningless just for the vibration?

and then at some point, those visualizations start veering wayyy to close to fantasies for fords comfort when he starts imagining stan kneeling in front of him. his hand is stans hair, yanking him deeper. stan looking up at him with tears pricking at the corner of his eyes from the effort. stan moaning for him just from the feeling of ford's cock shoved down his throat-

i also feel like with a multiverse quite literally endless, it might in the long wrong help ford and stan get more comfortable when it comes to their feelings for each other. hard to draw a line at incest when you see what looks like a living water fountain banging a dishwasher or some other crazy shit like that

(also please dont feel pressure to answer asks fast! youve got your own life and your own responsibilities and theres no rush to get to anything i send you i just like to chat :D)

-🐶

MY FRIEND!! thank you for being patient with me! the last week and a half have been WILD and i have been chomping at the bit to get to my ask box! i'm sorry it's taken so long to get to this (and tbh i had kiiiind of hoped i would be done with this piece so i could share when i responded but fuck it! we'll get there! i wanna talk!) but i need you to know that this fuckin ask has absolutely been fueling me through the like. 6600 words i have written of this damn idea so far hahaha. so in exchange for all the lovely inspiration, i will tell you a bit about what i will hopefully be able to finish soon-ish here! cause like. YES. absolutely just love the idea of ford slowly figuring out what's going on and getting caught up on all the little details -- like what the fuck does the dick look like on a dishwasher, right???? how the hell did stan even figure out how to get something like that off?? is the technique applicable to ford's dick???? and honestly, i haven't delved as far into that whole train of thought as i had originally planned to (and might go back and add to it, who knows!) so i just really LOVE coming back to this ask and ruminating on all of THAT.

not to say that we aren't getting at least a LITTLE bit of it, of course! for you, 🐶, a snippet of what i've got so far because this bit in particular was absolutely inspired by this ask!