#if you find any I missed please let me know!!

[evermoreness]

hi lovely!! i had a random idea for a fic where reader is harry’s kindergarten teacher and he lets it slip to you that single dad james thinks she’s pretty? im just imaging a little 5 year old letting that information slip like it’s the most casual thing in the world and meanwhile james is dying of embarrassment hahahha. i just thought it would be cute :)

— This idea is so cute! Thanks for sharing with me, hope you like it! @iloveremmy

secret crush | james potter

pairing: james potter x muggle!reader

summary: dad!james is definitely ready to love again after some time, he just didn't think it would be harry's kindergarten teacher.

obs: feel free to send any requests!

masterlist

The small classroom was filled with laughter, crayons, and the chaotic energy only a group of five-year-olds could create. The walls were covered in colorful drawings, some resembling actual objects and others looking more like abstract masterpieces only a parent could pretend to understand.

At the front of the room stood y/n, the most beloved teacher in the entire kindergarten. She had a natural warmth about her, making every child feel special. She was also quick-witted and funny, always finding a way to make the most mundane things exciting. Her students adored her.

And at the center of it all, sitting on one of the tiny chairs like he was some kind of prince, was Harry Potter.

Harry was an interesting child—smart, playful, and with a sass level that could rival a teenager. He had a mop of messy black hair that never seemed to stay put, big green eyes that sparkled with mischief, and a personality far too charming for a five-year-old.

He had been extra sassy today, insisting he was "way too advanced" for their ABC exercises and that "Uncle Moony reads him much harder books." You had learned by now to just nod along when Harry said bizarre things like that.

You had taken a particular liking to him. Not that you played favorites (at least, not openly), but something about Harry made you want to protect him even more than the other kids. Maybe it was the fact that he was being raised by a single dad, or maybe it was the way he always looked at you with that cheeky little grin whenever he was about to say something absurd.

Right now, that cheeky grin was in full force.

"Miss y/l/n," Harry said, swinging his legs under the table as he colored.

"Yes, love?" you replied, crouching down to his level.

He leaned in as if he was about to share the most confidential secret of his life. "My dad thinks you're pretty."

You blinked.

Oh.

Oh!

You opened your mouth to respond, but Harry, apparently very pleased with himself, continued. "He says you're too young to have this many kids"

Well, you definitely held back the laughter, but as you didn't have an answer to that, you just changed subjects. You leaned over to glance at Harry’s drawing. It was a messy but clearly heartfelt attempt at a stick figure version of himself and his dad, complete with what looked like… a broomstick?

“That’s a great drawing, Harry!” you praised, ruffling his hair. “Is that you and your dad?”

Harry nodded, proudly holding up his masterpiece. “Yeah! That’s me, and that’s Daddy, and he’s flying really fast on his broom because he’s the best at Quidditch!”

Let's say Harry Potter was a really imaginative kid. He would always say some really funny stories about witches and sometimes, he would full on create new words. Like he was just doing now. You found it cute, but little did you know that it was actually all true.

You grinned. “I bet he is.”

Harry’s little legs swung as he beamed. “Yeah! And he says he used to be the best Seeker at Hogwarts! I wanna be like him when I grow up!”

“That’s a great dream,” you said, genuinely warmed by how much Harry admired his father.

James was tall, lean, and had the same messy hair as his son. He was dressed casually, but there was something effortlessly charming about him. And then there were his eyes—warm, hazel, and currently widening in horror as he realized what his son was in the middle of saying.

"And my dad also said—oh, hey, Dad!" Harry greeted, as if he hadn’t just delivered a verbal nuke seconds before.

James, who had clearly heard enough, looked like he wanted the earth to swallow him whole. "Harry," he started, his voice a little strained, "what exactly have you been telling Miss y/l/n?"

Harry, completely unfazed, gestured at his teacher. "I was just telling her how you think she's pretty."

You had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing. You found it cute how a grown man was becoming all flustered right now.

“I mean—” James rubbed the back of his neck. “I might have said something along the lines of you being… you know… a good teacher.”

Harry frowned. “No, you didn’t.”

James glared at his son. A warning look. A look that screamed drop it, drop it now, child.

Harry, of course, did not drop it.

James let out an awkward, nervous laugh, running a hand through his already messy hair. "Yeah, um, I don't know where he got that from—"

"You said it last night," Harry reminded him. "When you were talking to Uncle Pads and you said—"

"Okay, that's enough, kiddo!" James cut in quickly, picking up Harry like he was a sack of potatoes. His face was an interesting shade of pink now. "Time to go, say goodbye to your teacher!"

Harry, enjoying this far too much, gave you a knowing look before waving. "Bye, Miss! See you tomorrow! Oh, and it's okay! My dad only likes you a little bit."

James groaned. "Oh, for Merlin's sake—"

You, to your credit, simply gave James a bright, amused smile. "It’s fine. Kids say the funniest things."

James, still trying to compose himself, let out a breath. "Yeah. They do."

You tilted your head, studying him for a second. "Though, I have to say, you do have a very smart kid. And very honest."

James gave you a sheepish smile. "Yeah… unfortunately, he gets that from his mother."

There was a flicker of something in his eyes—something sad, something that made you instinctively soften your tone. "She must've been wonderful."

James nodded. "Yeah. She really was."

For a moment, there was a comfortable silence between them. Then, because James couldn't handle any more embarrassment today, he awkwardly cleared his throat. "Right. Well. We'll be going now. Before Harry decides to share my entire life story."

You grinned. "That’s probably a good idea. Have a good evening, Harry. James."

James hesitated for half a second, then nodded. "You too."

As he walked out, still carrying a smug-looking Harry, you couldn't help but shake your head, laughing quietly to yourself.

James Potter, huh?

This was going to be interesting.

As soon as they were outside, James crouched down and gave Harry a look of pure exasperation. “Alright, Prongslet. Why?”

Harry just grinned up at him, utterly unapologetic. “I like Miss y/n. You like Miss y/n. Uncle Padfoot said you should talk to her more. I was helping.”

James dropped his head in his hands. “You and Sirius are banned from talking to each other ever again.”

The aftermath

James Potter was dying.

Not literally—he had survived multiple Quidditch accidents, a war, and Voldemort himself—but right now, standing outside of Harry’s kindergarten classroom, he was convinced that actual death would be less painful than the secondhand embarrassment he had just experienced.

His five-year-old son, his sweet, traitorous, utterly clueless son, had just casually exposed his very real, very secret crush on Miss y/n.

He was never showing his face in that classroom again.

…Okay, that was a lie.

He’d be back tomorrow.

And the next day.

And the day after that.

Because Harry loved school, and James definitely wasn’t going to pull him out just because he got caught being a pathetic twenty-five-year-old with a schoolboy crush on his kid’s teacher.

But, Merlin’s beard, how was he supposed to look you in the eyes again?

But instead, he found himself standing there like an idiot, because—screw it—he wasn’t actually opposed to talking to you.

At first, James had been mortified, barely able to meet your eyes when he picked up his son. But as the days went by, he found himself lingering a little longer each time. It started small—asking how Harry was doing, if he was behaving (spoiler: he wasn’t), and if he was making friends.

But then your conversations stretched longer.

“So, uh,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, “I actually wanted to talk to you about Harry.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

James nodded, trying to look serious. “Yeah. His, uh… behavior.”

You blinked, looking at Harry, who was currently playing with another student and doing absolutely nothing wrong.

“…His behavior?” you echoed.

James cleared his throat. “Yes. It’s, uh, very concerning.”

You folded your arms, clearly humoring him. “What exactly is concerning about it?”

James hesitated. “Well. You know. The talking thing.”

You bit your lip, trying not to laugh. “The talking thing?”

James sighed, knowing you weren’t buying it. “Yeah. You know. The way he just… talks. No filter. Says things. About me.”

You did laugh then, shaking your head. “James, you do realize that’s completely normal for his age, right?”

James groaned. “I was hoping you’d say there was a cure.”

You grinned. “Afraid not.”

James huffed, but there was a smile playing at his lips now. “Brilliant. Well, at least tell me—how do I make sure he doesn’t casually ruin my life every time he opens his mouth?”

You shrugged. “Sorry, but I think you’re doomed.”

James sighed dramatically. “That’s what I thought.” He glanced at Harry again, who was still happily playing, then looked back at you. “Well, I guess I should be glad he didn’t say anything too bad.”

You smirked. “Oh, no, just that you think I’m really pretty and smile a lot when you talk about me.”

James groaned. “Merlin’s sake, why would you repeat it?”

You laughed. “Because it’s funny.”

James shot her a look. “For you, maybe.”

You tilted your head, grinning. “Oh, come on, James. It’s not that bad.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You do realize that I’m going to be forced to relocate and change my name now, right?”

You snorted. “Is that so?”

“Yes,” James deadpanned. “I’ll be John Smith from now on. You’ve never met me before in your life.”

You shook your head, still laughing. “Well, John Smith, if it makes you feel any better…” you hesitated for a second, then shrugged, your voice softer. “I don’t mind what Harry said.”

James froze.

Your eyes were warm, teasing but also… something else.

And suddenly, James realized—maybe this wasn’t as embarrassing as he thought.

Maybe Harry had just given him the best excuse in the world to talk to the woman he’d been secretly crushing on.

And maybe—just maybe—he was okay with that.

For the first time that day, James grinned.

“Well then,” he said. “In that case, I think I can survive the humiliation.”

You chuckled. “Glad to hear it.”

From that day forward, James’s routine of picking Harry up from school became a little different.

At first, he told himself he was just being polite—nothing wrong with staying an extra minute or two to talk to Harry’s teacher, right? Totally normal. Every parent did that.

Except every time, those one or two minutes stretched longer.

And longer.

Until one day, he realized he was actively looking forward to pick-up time—not just to see Harry, but because he’d get to talk to you.

Getting to know each other

James had fully intended to keep his distance after the Incident—as he now called it in his head. He had absolutely not planned to linger when picking up Harry, nor did he intend to talk to you for longer than necessary. But that's not exactly what happened since they had been talking a lot lately.

"Everything good today?" James would ask, standing at the doorway.

"Harry was a little sassy during storytime," you would say, amused. "He insisted he already knew how it ended and started narrating over me."

James sighed, rubbing his temple. "Of course, he did. Did he at least get it right?"

"Surprisingly, yes," you said. "Honestly, he’s way too smart for a five-year-old."

James smirked. "He gets it from me, obviously."

"Oh, obviously," you teased, raising an eyebrow.

And then, the next day…

"Harry told me today that he was going to ‘summon his broom’ to get out of naptime."

James coughed. "Uh. Kids have wild imaginations, don’t they?"

"Mhm," you said, amused. "Though, I have to say, that’s a very specific thing to imagine."

James quickly changed the subject.

And then, the next day after that...

He found himself lingering near your desk, watching Harry shove his tiny arms into his backpack with all the grace of a rampaging hippogriff.

“So,” James started, leaning against the desk, “should I be worried about his academic future, or is struggling with backpack logistics a phase?”

You grinned. “Don’t worry, it’s a phase. I think.”

James sighed dramatically. “Merlin’s sake, that’s a relief. I was beginning to think I’d have to enroll him in some kind of Backpack Etiquette for Beginners course.”

You chuckled. “Well, I do give him stickers when he remembers to pack up neatly.”

James blinked. “That’s brilliant.”

You shrugged, smirking. “Bribery works wonders at this age.”

James laughed. “Noted.”

And just like that, their conversation stretched past the usual parent-teacher exchange.

James found himself not in a rush to leave.

You didn’t seem to mind.

And Harry, for once, didn’t interrupt with any more mortifying revelations.

A win for James.

A week later, James arrived earlier than usual and found you organizing a small shelf of children’s books.

“Expanding their literary horizons?” he asked, stepping closer.

You looked up, smiling. “Trying to. Some of them are still convinced books are just really boring building blocks.”

James smirked. “Ah, yes. The tragic underappreciation of literature.”

You chuckled. “Exactly.” you tilted your head. “Did you like reading when you were a kid?”

James shrugged. “I liked it. But I wasn’t the sit-quietly-and-read type. That was Remus.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Remus?”

“My best mate,” James explained. “Loves books. Absolute nightmare when you try to pull him away from one.”

You grinned. “Sounds like the kind of student I’d love to have.”

“Oh, absolutely,” James said. “Meanwhile, I was the kid causing problems in the back of the class.”

You pretended to gasp. “You? Causing trouble? I would never have guessed.”

James smirked. “Shocking, I know.”

You fell into easy conversation after that, sharing stories about school, books, and the different kinds of students you had over the years.

James barely noticed the time passing.

Neither did you.

"Alright, I have to ask," you said one day, arms crossed as you leaned against the doorway. "What’s up with Harry and the ‘Uncles’?"

James blinked. "What do you mean?"

"He talks about Uncle Padfoot and Uncle Moony constantly," you said. "Are they even real people?" you said, knowing that those names were definitely not usual. Maybe they were imaginary friends.

James tried not to laugh, he couldn't explain it to you in a detailed way, you were a Muggle after all. "Padfoot and Moony are my best mates. They are very real. It's just their nicknames. Padfoot is Sirius, Moony is Remus."

You smiled, trying to understand why they were even called that. "I swear, sometimes Harry sounds like a tiny old man when he quotes them."

James laughed. "That… yeah, that tracks. They’ve been around his whole life."

You smirked. "So, which one gives the worst advice?"

"Oh, definitely Sirius," James said immediately. "He told Harry once that he could read his mind and my poor kid spent the rest of the week scared to think"

You burst out laughing. "That’s terrible!"

"I know!" James said, grinning. "Remus had to be the voice of reason that day, convincing Harry that his uncle couldn't read his mind"

The small talk everyday was becoming a habit.

James would ask about your day, and you would roll your eyes and dramatically recount whatever chaos had ensued in your classroom—kids throwing crayons, glue disasters, the occasional crying over absolutely nothing. You were expressive, funny, and had this energy that James found… comforting.

You, in turn, asked about James—not just about Harry but about him. His work, his hobbies, things he liked. And James found himself telling you, actually enjoying your chats instead of awkwardly stumbling over his words like he thought he would.

But, of course, Harry noticed.

"Dad," Harry groaned one afternoon as James leaned against the classroom doorway, chatting away with you while other parents picked up their kids. "You’re doing it again."

James blinked down at his son. "Doing what, Prongslet?"

Harry huffed dramatically, grabbing his tiny backpack. "Talking and talking and talking."

You burst into laughter. "Oh no, Potter, you’ve been caught."

James narrowed his eyes at his son. "Maybe I like talking to your teacher, kiddo."

Harry groaned even louder, stomping toward the door. "Ugh, come on! We're always the last ones now!"

You laughed, nudging Harry’s nose playfully. "Oh, come on, am I that bad?"

Harry sighed dramatically. "No, but Daddy talks to you too much."

James cleared his throat. "Well, I just—y’know—parent stuff. Making sure you’re doing okay."

Harry squinted at him. "Uh-huh. Sure, Dad."

You smirked. "Guess I must be very interesting, huh?"

James ran a hand through his hair, looking away. "Uh… yeah. I mean, no—I mean—"

You just chuckled and waved at Harry. "See you tomorrow, little tornado."

Harry grumbled something under his breath about adults being annoying and led the way out.

James followed, but not before sneaking one last glance at you.

Getting some advice (from the professionals)

By the time a couple of weeks had passed, James knew he had to do something.

Because this? This standing-in-the-doorway-every-day-for-way-too-long thing? This was not normal behavior. He wasn’t just talking to you about Harry anymore. He liked talking to you, period.

And that? That was terrifying.

You were the first person he’d felt anything for since Lily. It wasn’t the same—Lily had been his great, big, all-consuming love. But you? You were warmth, laughter, easy conversations, and teasing smiles. And that was something.

Which meant he was going to do the scariest thing he’d done since facing off against Voldemort.

He was going to ask you out.

Sirius and Remus, of course, had opinions.

"You just gotta charm her, Prongs," Sirius said confidently, lounging on James' couch. "Lay it on thick—tell her she’s the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen, maybe throw in a ‘your eyes shine brighter than the stars’—"

Remus snorted from his chair. "Yes, James. Do that. That definitely won’t make her think you’re a lunatic."

Sirius furrowed his brows at his boyfriend "Hey! I think it worked wonders when i charmed you to like me"

Remus gave him a look "When did exactly you charmed me, pads?"

Sirius was quick to answer "Second year, of course, and it worked!"

Remus was trying not to laugh "Do you actually know that it didn't work, i just liked you back?"

Before Sirius could even snap back, his face surprised, James groaned, dropping his head into his hands. "I don’t need to charm her. I just… need to not make a fool of myself."

Sirius smirked. "Well, that’s impossible. But, hey, shoot your shot."

James was pacing his living room, gripping his hair. "I can’t do it. I can’t do it."

Sirius was looking deeply amused. "You, the James Potter, too scared to ask a woman out? This is history in the making."

Remus, sitting in an armchair, gave a long-suffering sigh. "James, it’s just coffee."

"Just coffee? Moony, I haven’t dated since Lily!" James threw his hands up. "What if she says no? What if she thinks I’m a terrible father for even thinking about dating?"

"Mate," Sirius said, sitting up. "I promise you, the last thing she’s thinking is that you’re a terrible father. She likes you."

James scoffed. "She doesn’t like me."

Sirius smirked. "Oh, yeah? Then why does she always smile at you? And laugh at your terrible dad jokes? And talk to you for an eternity?"

"That’s just—she’s nice!" James insisted.

Remus gave him a knowing look. "James. Just ask her."

James groaned. "Fine. But if I make an idiot of myself, I’m blaming both of you."

He was really going to ask you out.

Taking actions

It was a Friday afternoon. James had spent the entire day hyping himself up. This was it. No more standing around like an idiot. No more pretending he was just talking about Harry.

He was going to ask you out. Casually. Coolly. Like a totally normal, smooth person.

(He was absolutely not smooth.)

"Hey, y/n," James started as he leaned on the doorway of the classroom, trying to look relaxed.

You, who was organizing a chaotic pile of paper, looked up and smiled. "Hey, Potter. You’re right on time for the usual end-of-the-day complaints from your son."

Harry, currently sulking with his backpack, threw up his hands. "They played ring around the rosie today! Do you know how boring that is?!"

You laughed. "What, not exciting enough for you?"

"No!"

James smirked. "That’s tragic, mate."

Harry crossed his arms. "Can we go now or are you gonna talk for twenty years again?"

James cleared his throat. Now or never.

"Actually," he said, looking at you, "I was wondering if you wanted to grab a coffee sometime."

You blinked. "What?"

James internally panicked. "Casual coffee. Like—like two people, drinking coffee, talking, existing in the same space—"

You raised an amused eyebrow. "Are you asking me out?"

James wanted to die. "I—I mean—yeah? But, like, you don’t have to—"

You grinned. "James."

He swallowed. "Yeah?"

"I’d love to."

James froze. "Wait. What?"

You smirked. "I said yes, Potter. You good?"

James stared at you, processing, before a slow grin spread across his face. "Oh. Well. That’s… good. That’s great. That’s—"

Harry groaned. "Finally!"

James turned to him. "Oh, what now?!"

Harry threw his hands up. "It took you forever to ask her! I thought you were never gonna do it!"

You laughed. "Seriously?"

James groaned. "Can’t anything be a secret in this family?"

You just smirked. "Apparently not."

James, still grinning, nodded. "Alright then. Coffee it is."

And for the first time in a long time, James felt something that wasn’t just surviving. He felt happy.

[partiallysame]

Hi! Love your Price's Lil Wife drabbles so much! I was wondering how birthdays (for the boys) are treated now that they have Price's Missus looking out for them? Also, how does one go about finding out Simon's birthday (lord knows that man won't willingly give that info up without severe puppy eyes)?

Johnny offhandedly said he’d want whatever meal you just made for his birthday next year and the giant exaggerated gasp that left you had all the men minus your husband ready to defend ready to jump into action but no need for any actual panic. “YOUR BIRTHDAY. WHEN IS YOUR BIRTHDAY?” Johnny told you and fuck you missed it. Kyle’s too. Big ol smile and head snapping over to Simon to ask him. Price was behind you shaking his head waving his hand in front of his neck trying to save Simon from answering the question. He wasn’t going to anyway but now he was curious as to why he shouldn’t (personalized and handmade triangular party hat that is mandatory to wear all day and too many pictures).

“Whens your birthday Simon?” Big ol smile on your face dropping when he says

“Don’t got one”

“Yes you do”

“No I don’t”

“Simon Riley” uh oh. “Tell me when your birthday is”. He let out a mhm mhm and you turned to your husband who held his hands up in defense. Ofc he wasn’t gonna help. Now your crossed arms in front of him trying to look mean. “Tell me.” He shook his head. Fine you’ll let it go for now (no you’re not) Gonna have to get creative.

Breakfast the next day you asked before handing him his plate. Making it seem like he wouldn’t get the food if he didn’t answer. He didn’t. You gave it to him anyway. “I’ll make your favorite for dinner if you tell me” “everything you make is my favorite” shut up Simon.

Now he’s sitting on the couch and you approach him with the prettiest saddest lil puppy dog eyes you could muster. Finger tracing his biceps. “Just wanna celebrate you Simon. Without your birthday you’d never have come into my life. Wanna make you feel special.” He almost broke. Your big eyes. Sweet voice. Gentle, teasing touch. He was so close to telling you. But he hesitated too long and you switched tactics hard and fast.

“Fine. But you made me do this Riley. Remember that” and suddenly you were calling for MacTavish who came strutting in the stupidest smile on his face holding a dark blue jersey. “From now on this is a Scotland house” you said putting on Johnny’s Scotland National football jersey. No no no. Simon began panicking watching Johnny put on a matching one. “On game days. This house will NOT be watching Manchester anymore.” Wait wait wait. “I’ll tell ya please” Simon’s reaching for you. Don’t do this. He’s begging but you’re not giving in. “It’s may 17th please lovie don’t go this far. Take it off.” He’s trying to pull the jersey off of you, fighting Johnny’s hands trying to keep it on you. Price walked in on the scene “dear god Lieutenant what did you do?” His wife wearing the wrong colors? Oh Riley’s gonna pay for this.

[redwinelew]

SAVE YOUR TEARS

type written fic (no part 2 request pls)

pairing lewis hamilton x driver!reader

summary you need a distraction and your teammate is the perfect person for that

word count 3.7k

warnings 18+. smut. nsfw. porn with oh so little plot and even little feelings. unprotected sex. rough sex. emotional sex. prone bone then missionary (idk i tried), praise kink. hints of depression, self doubts etc etc idk lmk what i missed. english is not my first language.

author's note self-indulgent if u couldn't tell from the warnings. that's it. sorry.

masterlist

lewis didn't expect you to turn up in front of his hotel room tonight night, face wet with tears staining your cheeks, lips trembling as you held back a sob.

nor was he expecting you to ever utter these words to him.

"i need you to fuck me."

lewis' lips parted, unable to get any words out, too shocked by your sudden request. he has a million different questions appearing in his brain all at once. what the hell is happening? why are you crying? who did this to you? and why on god's green earth did you just ask him to— he couldn't even repeat it to himself. it didn't feel real, didn't even sound like you were asking. pleading, more like it, in pure desperation.

he calls your name softly, like he's trying to wake you up from a dream. his thick eyebrows tie together in confusion. "what are you—"

"please...." you cut him off, the last syllable getting more inaudible as it trails away. tears beginning to fill up your eyes again before they drop, reaching your jaw and fall to the floor.

lewis has never seen you like this, and he's pretty sure nobody else on the grid or the public did either. his teammate whom in his eyes, the one who always got her shit together. he's almost jealous at how composed you always presented yourself to be, on and off track, never letting any unwanted criticisms by fans or media from getting to you, always quick to shut them down cleverly. the last person anybody could ever take down, mentally.

then he realized, that he held you to such a high standard to the point where he had forgotten that you were still just a human. it's only a matter of time before you break and if lewis personally had his moments where he was at his lowest, he couldn't imagine being in your shoes right now.

everything immediately clicked for lewis right there and then. he had never invited a girl inside so fast, never undressed her so quickly.

"what's your safe word?" he asks, needing to know before he proceeds.

"pancake."

lewis nods. he was about to crash his lips against yours when you put your hand on his clothed chest to stop him firmly, almost clenching your hand on his shirt, head turn away slightly.

"no," you refused.

kissing means this would get personal. complicated. and you do not want complications in the future. this is not going to be a love-making session. this is going to be lewis fucking you hard until your eyes roll back and your vision turns white. until the thickness of his cock makes your hollow soul lights up again. until you feel alive from his hand around your throat.

nothing else.

and that's exactly what he's doing right now. no kissing. he immediately understood it from the minute you refused his lips, getting what this is going to be.

lewis' tattooed hand fists on your shirt hard as he avoids your lips and kisses your neck instead, finding those spots that make your knees buckle and focuses particularly on there. you remove his hair tie, and tangle your fingers with his braids. he groans, his hair a particular sensitive part on his body. his thick lips travel lower to lay kisses along your collarbone. no marks either, he doesn't need to be told that.

though for some reason he does not understand, it is suddenly quite hard to resist himself from leaving purple bites on your skin. not when he had someone like you in his arms whom he had found beautiful since the first time his eyes laid in you.

no, lewis tells himself silently. this is not about you. this is about her. she's struggling. there's a demon that she needs to defeat and she needs your help. so help her.

you find yourself walking in reverse as he advances towards you, before your back hits the soft mattress of his hotel bed.

"yes." you say, already breathless, letting him know this is exactly how you want it. no tip-toeing, no hesitation or being overly careful, because you trust him enough to know that he knows what he should and shouldn't do, or you wouldn't have knocked in his door. you might be mentally fragile, but not your body. you need him to get to work quickly, to get you out of the mess that is currently your mind right now. he doesn't need to be gentle, because all you desire is the exact opposite.

lewis does not respond. instead he takes off your shirt and bra, throwing them somewhere on his floor without caring where they land. you do the same with his. lewis climbs over you, leaving neither of you time to admire one another's half naked bodies. nothing to gawk over. this is not what you came here for and lewis was quick to understand that.

his lips were fast to attack your bare chest next. his tongue swirls over your nipple, coating it with his spit before sucking hard, creating sounds as lewd as your moans right now. he also groans silently, the vibration sending more waves of pleasure inside you. he lets you gather his braids to press his face harder on your breast while one of his hands went to grope on the other, flicking your already sensitive nipple before giving it the same attention with his tongue. your back arches, and you find yourself pressing both your thighs together, desperate for relief on your lower half.

he senses it and leaves your chest. he pulls down your pants next, then your panties. you catch the way he visibly swallows at the sight of your dripping pussy, his own cock starting to throb in need.

"tell me what you need," he asks breathlessly, his voice huskier than usual, making your walls clench around nothing.

"your fingers." you answer without hesitation. the rational part of your brain manages to slip through, making you wonder for a split second just what made you so bold tonight, demanding all sort of things you never even had the courage to ask anybody.

maybe it's demons in your head, the one you are desperate to get rid off so you are forcing yourself to do the absolute craziest, just to feel like your old self again.

lewis nods. part of him is still in disbelief over what is currently happening but he tries to leave it at the back of his head. you let him spread your legs with ease and he doesn't waste any time to slide his digit smoothly over your fold to gather your arousal, earning a sharp gasp from you. he spits on your cunt, his saliva mixes with your wetness before he pushes.

still he was careful, only using one finger for now. he's well aware of the thickness of his digits and not sure how much you can take if he immediately adds more.

"m-more." you're whimpering already and the sound goes straight to lewis' dick, forcing him to take a deep, shuddering breath in an attempt to calm his twitching cock.

but it's difficult. this is lewis hamilton, seven times formula 1 world champion. the greatest of all time. admire by billions. and yet when he has a pretty girl like you underneath him, at his mercy, your beautiful cunt clenching hard around his fingers, suddenly lewis is just a normal man. one who is not sure how much longer he can hold himself from claiming you all for himself.

lewis takes a deep breath. this is not about you, he tells himself again. you need to listen to her. give her what she needs. you can get any girl to come to your hotel room for fucking, and yet she only has you, the only man she clearly feels safe enough to ask of this.

"faster." you ask and lewis starts to deliver, pushing your legs apart even further before his hand picking up its pace, until the only sounds in the room are your ragged moans and the slickness of your cunt.

you are gorgeous. absolutely breathtaking, lewis thinks to himself. the way your face is flushed, sweat staining all over your face and neck. how your figure, hypnotizing as if it was blessed by aphrodite herself writhe underneath him, chasing that high. sinful moans and whimpers from your lips, enchanting his ears, making him curl his fingers until they find that one spot inside that makes you only whine louder, addicted into finding even more ways to earn those sounds from you. your legs part even wider as if not getting enough, silently begging for more than just his fingers.

"fuck...." lewis cannot help but groan. he sees the way your breath is getting shorter, more ragged. following his own impulses, lewis stops, withdrawing his hand from you.

you whine shamelessly at the sudden emptiness. you look up, watching lewis licking your arousal clean from his lips. the sight should be dirty, should make your pussy pulses in lust but instead your brain is protesting, head thrown back on the mattress in frustration. no, no, no, no, the brain says. you were far from reaching your peak since lewis had just started fingering you but you were at bliss at how preoccupied your mind was, having no room to think about anyting but his fingers inside you.

the insecurities starting to come back. the demon has gone back to work, playing in your ears and whispering doubts into you again.

maybe lewis is regretting this. he thinks you're sick in the head and he wants you to leave. he's going to tell the team—

"you're gonna come on my cock only."

oh—

oh.

you don't have time to be dumbfounded when lewis gets off the bed to remove his pants, eyes stay on yours. a hiss leaves his lips as he wraps his hand around himself, pumping his rock hard cock that already leaks with pre-cum while keeping his lustful gaze on you the entire time before he gets back to the bed to you.

your mouth almost waters at the visual. yes, you came to his hotel room, crying, begging him to fuck you. and yet it's unbelievable to see lewis like this. the champion, feared by the rest of the grid, respected by the whole wide world, is currently hard and throbbing in front of you. for you.

your cunt is wet again, pulsing around air thinking about just how he'd fit himself inside you but before you could do anything, he flips you flat onto your stomach. you yelp, caught off-guard by his sudden action. the mattress dips as his knees sink into it on either side of your body. he grabs his pillow before shoving it under your belly.

condom is on and when you feel his tip pressing against your entrance, you gasp silently, already gripping the sheets.

"we can stop if you want." he says, lowering his voice down to a softer tone, giving you a way out. he's willing to ignore the way his dick twitches, begging to be taken care of, if you desire to stop. but instead....

"n-no." you shake your head fast, voice shaky but with a hint of firmness behind it. "no, i don't want to stop. please."

"what do you need then? tell me exactly."

"i don't want to think. please, just— use me. i don't care. don't be gentle. i want it hard. i need it rough."

part of lewis regrets that he asked because holy fucking shit. sweet baby jesus. he doesn't recognize the sound that he makes, deep from his chest, filled with lust after hearing your dirty, desperate request.

on one hand, he's more than happy to fulfill your desire, knowing this is just going to be sex and nothing more. it's easier for the both of you in the future, knowing that this is a one time thing and absolutely no feelings would be involved.

but on the other hand, though lewis presents himself to the public and media as the calm and collected person you'd see on TV, but like every other man, he has his own wants and needs as well. and you have absolutely fucking idea what the hell you had just woken up inside him.

"fuck. fuck, you can't just fucking say that. you're fucking killing me, baby girl."

you moan at the nickname, then the volume becomes louder when you feel him pushing himself inside you slowly, one palm on a side of your head while the other is gripping your hip so fucking hard no doubt it'll bruised tomorrow.

you want it to bruise. and you know what you just asked of him. it's nothing like you had ever asked of a man before. to take you like a ragdoll for him to be used, to be toyed with whenever his please. to use you like you exist only and solely for his pleasure. because the thoughts that you are having about yourself are way worse. you want it to bruise, to hurt. you want to still be able to feel him for days. to have difficulties to walk so you will always be reminded of tonight. because at least your mind will be distracted from wandering to places you have been working so hard to avoid again.

lewis slides in easily but the stretch burns. you whine, fingers gripping the bedsheet tightly as you try to breathe properly in order to relax yourself so you can accommodate to his size, which is bigger than anyone you had ever taken. what he lacks in height, he certainly makes up for it in his length.

when he's fully inside, lewis gathers your hair before yanking it hard, making your neck arches back and you cry out. the pain in your scalp is weirdly delicious, combines with how he's making you feel so full having his dick deep inside, unmoving.

"say thank you." lewis demands, his tone no longer kind amd gentle like before, goosebumps prickle all over your skin. you never heard him using that kind of tone during work, never even imagine that he'd be the type to sound like that in bed. "thank me for fucking you."

"t-thank you."

"louder." he bottoms out before slamming into you hard, pulling a loud gasp from you.

"thank you!" you choke out.

lewis starts out slow at first, looking for the right pace. he remembers how you want it but he's not going to give it right away, out of care and of course pettiness.

but as he continues, he couldn't help but craving to hear more of those sweet bits of noises that you keep making. to hear the way your breath hitches at how he's filling you up to the brim, at how good he's fucking you.

lewis lowers his body, caging your body from behind but still careful not to crush you completely with his weight as his pace increases, ramming his cock inside you, his restraint getting thinner.

"take it. you want me to fuck you so bad? fucking take it. you asked for this." he grunts, and you whimper with no shame left in you. it's difficult to care, not when you could feel yourself getting dumber on his dick, which is exactly what you were asking for. and all this couldn't be more perfect.

lewis' movements grow harder, rougher by the minute. your moans mixed with his and the sound of his hips snapping against your ass echoes to the entire room. you wish you could be quiet, knowing that this whole hotel is rented by your entire team. but the way lewis is fucking you is making you do the exact opposite. you know he wouldn't want you to be quiet either, the mechanics be damned.

it's starting to be too much. nails digging into the bedsheet, you find your body inching forward. you are not sure if you are trying to run away or get closer to him but when lewis notices this, he grabs both your wrists, pinning them above your head. his teeth nibbles against a specific spot under your earlobe, pulling another whine out of you.

"you can take it. fuck— good girls take what they asked for. you can do it."

your cunt somehow gets even wetter with his filthy words, at how his accent thickens, voice gets deeper and more hoarse. your pussy shouldn't be squeezing around his dick at his praises, but it did. and the grunts he lets out making it all worth it.

when he hits that sweet spot inside you that no other man has ever quite managed to find, your eyes roll back in ecstasy. you gasp, tears starting to fall again at the sweet pleasure you're experiencing.

the sex is perfect, you know lewis wouldn't disappoint. but your demon is back, suddenly haunting you and making you feel terrible about yourself again.

"what the hell do you think you're doing? oh, that's right. you wasn't. you aren't. you're just a dumb bitch making herself even dumber on this pathetic cock. if only you could see yourself. absolutely shameless. what a whore. begging for this man to fuck you like you never seen a dick before. nothing will ever be the same ever again. he will never look you in the eyes, he'll think of you differently. why didn't you just—"

lewis suddenly stops.

the voices do too, and you are left in confusion. his grip on your wrist is gone now and you didn't even notice. you turn your head, only to see him pulling out.

no. oh, no. no, no, no. the voices were right. he's pulling away. he's regretting this. he's gonna ask you to leave, isn't he?

"can i turn you on your back?" he asks instead.

silence from you for a few seconds before you let out a quiet "what?" before lying on your back on your own. you remove the pillow from under your belly and set it aside.

"you were crying." he points out, brows furrowing as a shadow of concern illuminating his handsome face.

you swallow. you were hoping he wouldn't notice and even if he did, he'd thought that it was because you were enjoying yourself this. the fact that he knows it was the opposite tells you that he knows there are million different things running in your mind right now and you hate it.

"y-yeah but it wasn't— not because of you."

pause. "you want me to slow down?"

again, you shake your head fast.

"i'm okay. please." you hate how quickly you beg for him again.

it's lewis' turn to swallow, his eyes darken slightly at your pleading. he nods before crawling back to you, determined to pick up where he left off, trusting that you will know what to say if you truly desire for him to stop completely.

he grabs one of your legs, wrapping it around his waist before bringing the other to his shoulder. you bite your lip at the way his gaze never wavers from you, making you wonder if he fucks every other girls like this.

no. fuck. stop it. why do you even care?

lewis takes his dick before burying himself inside you once more slightly easier this time. you can't help but moan and thanking him again.

he is slow again at first but it isn't long before his cock slams back at the perfect pace, the sound of skin against skin once again filling up this suite. your whimper mixed with his hisses when you claw on his tattooed back, pulling him closer.

lewis leaves kisses all over your leg, wherever he could reach before his hand sneaks up to fiddle and squeeze your bouncing tits.

you didn't expect him to wipe your tears next.

your eyes locked with his. he continues fucking you but it feels as if time has stopped. he has that look behind the lust that screams sympathy. pity. you hate it but at the same you don't push his hand away, letting him cup your face momentarily. but even lewis doesn't let this gesture happens for too long, always remembering the point of having you underneath him.

it doesn't take long until you feel an invisible knot in your lower belly. you're panting now, almost reaching your peak. lewis realizes this and he fucks you harder, his hand travels down to rub your clit.

"i'm—"

"i know, sweetie," he says, breathless as well. he lowers his body, hiding his face in the crook of your neck and kissing it all over as he feels his own orgasm nearing. "come for me."

a few more thrusts, and you see white. your mouth is agape as you moan silently. his grunt and groans is music to your ears as he spills himself inside the condom.

silence.

lewis never realized how much he needed this as well. not just the sex, but the connection, which he knows is insane to find with someone like you in circumstances like this but what just happened felt different. to be so close with someone he actually knows and not just another girl he calls to his room, not even bother to learn her name.

before he could gather his breath, he feels your body underneath him slipping out. his eyes feels heavy but he tries to hold on, watching you collecting your clothes and dressing back up.

"what are you—"

"that was really great. thank you." was all you said before you left, in a hurry like you refuse to spend another minute in the same room with lewis.

while the man is still on the bed, naked. he hasn't even removed his condom yet. a sigh escapes his lips, lying flat on the bed before staring at the white ceiling.

he did what you asked for, and he could only hope that you would feel better tomorrow morning.

and yet why does his heart suddenly aches, not having you in his arms anymore?

[thezombieprostitute]

The Hunt

Warnings: Kidnapping, Stalking, Talk of breeding. Please let me know if I missed any!

A/N: Reader is big & tall female.

A/N2: written entirely on my phone. Apologies in advance for errors.

Summary: Kraven's hunt gets distracted by you.

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Kraven prides himself on dedication to his work. His ability to lock in on a target and pursue them to the end sets him apart. Among other things, of course.

So imagine his surprise when a new scent throws him off track. It's not a perfume or cologne, no. This is natural and sweet in a way that makes him hungry for something other than food. He tries to go back to his target, he has a job to complete and the city makes it easy for prey to escape. But that scent is maddening. If he's to catch his true target he has to remove the source of his distraction.

He follows the scent further than he expected. For such a distraction he'd thought it would be closer to his first location. It led him to a public library. A small growl escaped him as he thought of stalking the source of the scent through the bookshelves.

Kraven shakes his head. He's not used to losing control like that. At least not in a crowded city. He steels himself and steps inside.

The strength of the scent makes him think it's an employee or at least a regular visitor. It's practically embedded into the place. He wants to go straight to the source but he knows it would be wise to go at this in a more indirect way. Stalk the prey, find its weaknesses before it even knows it's in danger.

That's when he spots you working at the reference desk. All his instincts tell him you're the source. More than that, you're his mate. Kraven knows some animals mate for life but even he never understood the mechanism behind that connection. Well, until now at least.

You get up to go on your lunch break and Kraven's eyes widen a little when he sees your physique. The animal side of him is saying you're perfect for bearing tall, strong children that will survive the wild. The human side of him isn't helping, pointing out that working a job like this means you're intelligent and patient. All of him is in agreement, you'd be a perfect mate.

At that moment you feel the hairs on the back of your neck rise and you turn to try to spot the danger. Kraven quickly hides behind some shelves.

The hunt is on.

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Tagging:

@alicedopey ; @delicatebarness ; @hederasgarden @icefrozendeadlyqueen ; @irishhappiness ; @kmc1989; @lokislady82 ; @ronearoundblindly

[multiheadcanons]

MERCS DOING KARAOKE. I WAS DELIRIOUSLY FEVERISH.

offense: they’re singing it wasn’t me by shaggy. they have pyro do the raps. it’s close enough, the rest of the team finds it to be a hoot.

scout: scout will always do baby got back. the team finds it hilarious, if he’s drunk he can be a little gay goofy and nobody will really. think anything about it, a very nice time! the team knows it’s during scout’s song they need to get drunk, because soldier is just ridiculous.

soldier: soldier… jane doe…. jane doe will pick from one of the many songs in the great american songbook. and he loves doing the star spangled banner. he’s not good. but frankly, if the team can get drunk enough, it’s just eight men (and pyro) scream singing the star spangled banner. at this point sedate them. sometimes engie will make him do this land is your land. it’s kind of touching for the rest of the team. they get fuzzy feelings. like they really belong here.

pyro: bust out that taylor swift discography babey! will generally do you belong with me. at this point the men know it word for word, it’s popular, it’s cheesy, it’s a good karaoke choice. the team cheers, they get into it a little. it’s an enjoyable performance!

defense: you know they’re busting out its tricky by run-dmc right? we all know this? their timing is insane. has the team hooting and hollering.

demo: he’ll get the team out of their seats with boogie wonderland. sometimes literally. “get up! get on your feet!” but he definitely gobbles it up. gives a whole show. he’s really just missing some sequins and a wig and this would be a hell of a drag show. definitely has the charisma uniqueness nerve and talent. team is thoroughly pleased.

heavy: it takes a little more coaxing to get heavy up there on his own. but when you convince him… he’s doing one of the saddest renditions of live and let die you’ve ever heard. sometimes snipes will get up there with him and do the horn solos. just an oddly soulful performance. leaves you thinking.

engineer: ….turn it up some. he’s pulling out honky tonk badonkadonk by trace adkins babeyyy! got his guitar, got the amp, he’s turning the base into a country dive bar. kinda hot. everyone ends that with some feelings.

support: they’re soooo wretched i hate these men. they get up there, they’re discussing quietly amongst themselves, they start snickering. never a good sign. demo gets on stage, takes place at the piano. they begin the most heartbreaking rendition of bohemian rhapsody. the team is genuinely tearing up. they never pick regular songs. it’s always some of the saddest shit they can think of.

medic: oh he’s eating i need a hero. he’ll get the team off their feet with that one. he’ll also fall back on any elton john song. he loves im still standing. so does the team. it’s a little funny with the respawn machine bringing them back, right? they think so.

sniper: you know he’s doing who can it be now, right? we all know he’s doing who can it be now? he’s pulling out his sax; they’re all eating up who can it be now. does a different sax solo every time. the team screams when he busts out the sax.

spy: he’s doing le festin. everyone normally gets very confused and then scout realizes it’s the ratatouille song and everyone cheers. it annoys him, he hasn’t even gotten to the good part! let him get to the good part! a lovely ender.

[hederasgarden]

Do you have any darker thoughts about your fav ATJ characters?

Bestie, I have so many thoughts, and I’m totally blaming @otaku-girl-ao3 for this. A few weeks ago, we spent an afternoon on Discord brainstorming what the ATJ characters would be like as dark versions of themselves and how that would manifest in distinct and interesting ways.

Just a quick note—this is quite a departure from the usual content on my blog and the type of things I typically write about. Recently, I’ve been gathering the courage to explore some darker themes in my writing (I blame BookTok for introducing me to a lot of questionable tropes). Please be kind and let me know if you’d like to see more of this kind of writing from me!

Characters: Sergei Kravinoff (Kraven the Hunter), Friedrich Harding (Nosferatu), Tangerine (Bullet Train), and Ives (Tenet) Rating: Explicit, 18+ only. Dead dove, do not eat. VERY dark, depraved, and horny thoughts direct from me to you. Not all themes are tagged. Read at your own risk.  Please comment or reblog if you enjoyed this and want to see more. Or scream at me in my inbox. That always makes my day.

Aaron Taylor Johnson Character Masterlist

Sergei is a meticulous planner, taking his time to observe you and learn your habits. He likely comes across you by chance—perhaps while on the job or visiting his brother. It’s your scent that first grabs his attention, but it’s not what draws him back. It’s the softness and sweetness in your demeanor, the vulnerability you exude, completely unaware of the dangers around you. You’re the easiest prey he’s ever tracked, unaware even of the most basic threats. You’re always buried in a book or your phone, headphones on at full blast. If it weren’t for his quiet intervention, you would have been robbed or worse on your way home at least twice. 

He takes you because he believes you're not meant to be on your own. You need someone to care for you, to protect you from the world that you don’t fully understand. Really, it’s lucky your paths crossed. He’s certain you’ll come to see things his way in time. Until then, he’s turned his home into a beautiful little cage for you to live in, complete with an entire library filled with your favorite books, cozy blankets to keep you warm, and all the ingredients for the meals you love to cook and enjoy. He’s done his research on what you like and he’ll bring you anything you ask for. Afterall, he’s a provider at heart.

There’s no concern of you running away. You've seen the large snow leopard that prowls around outside, and the one time you made a foolish attempt to escape, Sergei was quick to show you that he wouldn't always be so gentle or understanding. As @writercole suggested, once he has you back, he’ll also end up keeping you tethered by the ankle for a while, a lesson that if you try to run, he’ll leash you.

After you recover from that experience Sergei finds you’re a much better pet, settling into your new life and role. You start cooking for him when he's home, and willingly crawl into bed beside him, seeking out his warmth on those cold winter nights. Soon, Sergei knows you’ll be ready for the next step: starting a family of your own.

Friedrich (in a modern AU) strikes me as the type who would quietly manipulate situations to his advantage, working behind the scenes to ensure things unfold just how he wants. He’d spot you working at a cafe or store he frequently visits and, from that moment, start working on a plan to make you his.

Rather than using overt force, he’d rely on subtle pressure and gaslighting, making you doubt yourself and your choices. He’d skillfully set up circumstances to undermine you—ensuring you miss out on a job you desperately need, getting you fired, or putting you in a position where you have no choice but to turn to him. When you're at your lowest, he’ll swoop in as the savior, the one who appears to protect you. His goal is to make you dependent on him alone, carefully ensuring that when the time comes for him to make his move, you're in no position to resist. Consent would be questionable, but he'd remind you every time you hesitated that you said yes, that you asked for his help, and that you invited him in.

I can also see him isolating you from friends and family, slowly pulling you away from the support system you once had. He’d definitely be the type to love-bomb you, showering you with overwhelming attention and affection, using his money and influence to manipulate you further. 

He strikes me as a baby trapper, sabotaging your birth control or tampering with his condoms to ensure you get pregnant. He believes you'd be the perfect wife and mother—you just need his help to realize that. Once he has you, he’d be the most loving and attentive husband, always caring, but beneath that sweetness lies an unshakable belief that he knows what’s best. He’s the one who makes the decisions, subtly guiding everything with quiet confidence until, over time, the balance shifts in his favor and you start looking to him for help with even the easiest things. Despite all of this, Friedrich would likely still view himself as a good person, firmly rejecting any notion that he is abusive or in the wrong.

Tangerine is on the opposite end of the spectrum, much more inclined to use brute force and physical violence to make you understand your place. He has a short temper and struggles with impulse control, especially when you don't follow his demands. There’s no slow build-up with him—he has no time or patience for romance. The moment he sees you on the street, he decides you’re coming home with him, and that’s final. Or maybe Tangerine and Lemon are sent to kill your husband but when Tangerine sees just how sweet you are, completely unaware of who and what your husband really is, he decides to keep you for himself. After all, no one's going to miss you. They’ll assume you died in the house fire with your husband. 

Once he had you he would try and spoil you with a beautiful place to live, fine clothes and decadent food. He’d want you to look and dress a certain way for him. A darker version of him would fit the profile of a classic abuser—lashing out at you in anger, only to later show up with flowers and a hollow apology, turning the blame onto you as if you were the one who provoked it.

“Why do you have to make things so fuckin’ hard, huh?” Tangerine questions, caressing your bruised skin. “I hate when you make me do this to ya luv. You need to listen better.”

He’d definitely be the most terrifying of all the dark versions of the ATJ characters because of his unpredictability. (I do not know why but I have such a strong sense he’d pop you in the mouth/back hand you with those rings on and just….yeah.)

If Ives were to go dark, he’d likely abuse his power and authority in the workplace, targeting someone beneath him—someone who wasn’t military and who he could easily manipulate using his strength and knowledge. Maybe you’re his admin, someone he works closely with, and no one questions the fact that you’re often in his office with the door closed or staying late to finish tasks together. He’d be blunt about his intentions with you, setting clear expectations for how things would unfold. His actions would be predictable—if you were a good girl, you’d be rewarded; if you misbehaved, there would be consequences. Ives would be a steady, unyielding force, confident that, with time, you’d fall into line.

[benz12313]

Boyfriend!Ridoc - SFW Version

Description: I muse about what Ridoc would be like as a boyfriend. I tried to keep it gender neutral, but please let me know if I accidentally missed any female pronouns. I'm so used to writing fem at this point I sometimes miss it if I'm trying not to write that way.

Warnings: slight mentions of death? (more like fear of death? idk man), vague Onyx Storm spoiler (mentioned a scene, but with no detail at all), use of pet name "baby", swearing

~ Boyfriend!Ridoc who absolutely fucking adores you. I mean think about it, he’s slept with about half of Basgiath at this point (maybe not literally, but still). The man has to be absolutely down bad for you to give that up. Not to mention he clearly has some issues with attachments, and when he does form them they’re strong. He was mad the longest with Violet in Iron Flame, and I mean, we all know that scene between them in Onyx Storm when he finds out about Xaden. So it’s safe to say that if he’s decided to date you, he absolutely adores you. 

~ Boyfriend!Ridoc who absolutely needs to be touching you at all times. He’s a touchy guy, so with you, the person he loves most? From having an arm around you in class to holding hands in the halls. When you’re on the flight field? Just touching down? You barely get off your dragon and he’s wrapping you up in a spinning hug, not giving a damn about your dragon’s annoyance of having him too close. Outside of class when the two of you are studying or just hanging out with the rest of the group? You’re in his lap, his head resting on your shoulder, with him giving you a whispered running commentary of little jokes and narration as the group socializes. And when its just the two of you? Cuddles. Constant cuddles. Dude just needs to feel you close, feel your warmth, assuring himself that the two of you are indeed alive and well. 

~ Boyfriend!Ridoc who teases you about schoolwork, but absolutely helps you learn everything you need to. Not malicious about it, or even remotely degrading, just pure teasing. Like “Aw, Y/N, c’mon that problem isn’t that hard. Here you just gotta…” or “Really? I finished that essay yesterday. I bet you’ve just been staring at my handsome face too long, huh? Let me help you…”. Like dude isn’t a huge fan of schoolwork, there’s a lot more important things to be learning and doing, but he’s smart, and even if he doesn’t agree, I guess that history quiz is important to learn. And he’ll be damned if his partner isn’t keeping up. 

~ Boyfriend!Ridoc who shares rooms with you every night. This plays into the touching thing, he literally cannot sleep without you beside him. Not to mention, I feel in my bones that this man would have literal sweat-inducing, crying out into the dark, nightmares if he didn’t have his arms around you. Especially if you guys got together after Violet was attacked in her room. Ain’t no way he’d ever let anything happen to you on his watch. I think he’d last a week, max after the two of you get together before he starts crawling into bed with you in the middle of the night, sheepish grin, and whining about how it’s just warmer with you beside him. The moment he has you in his arms his heart rate slows and every muscle relaxes, and he’s asleep in seconds. 

~ Boyfriend!Ridoc who takes making sure you’re taking care of yourself as his personal job. He’s a fucking tyrant about it. He hasn’t seen you drink water in the last hour? He’s shoving a water bottle in your hands and giving you a light glare and telling you to "drink". Wanna try only eating fruit or a salad at meals? It’s… “Ugh-ugh Baby, you better put protein on that plate or I’ll do it for you.” as he’s following behind you in the food line. Looking even mildly under the weather? He’s already preparing supplies and urging you to take things easier. Not taking care of your skincare or other personal hygiene? He literally sits you down and does it for you. It’s all because he wants to make sure you’re in the best condition you can be. People die for less in this college, and if he has any power over it, you’re gonna be well and prepared for anything this world has to throw your way. 

~ Boyfriend!Ridoc who you cannot train with, at all. Not because he’d ever hurt you, but because he’s afraid to hurt you. He’d take it so fucking easy on you, that training with him wouldn’t be useful in any capacity. Even weights or running, he’s encouraging you to take it easy, so the dude has to stay on the other side of the room, thoroughly distracted with his own training so the both of you can get something done. He knows what you need, but the man cannot deliver it himself. He has faith in his friends to be able to push you, so he leaves it to them. However, during challenges? Ridoc is front and center, cheering you on without being distracting, and rarely getting scared for you. You kick ass, that’s why he’s made you his. He wraps you in a big hug after, promising massages and snuggles later. His baby just kicked ass after all, they deserve to relax now. 

~ Boyfriend!Ridoc who ALWAYS makes sure you’re watching him when he’s on the mat. You’re his good luck charm after all ;). He’s shooting you looks like ‘Really? They tried that?’ Or ‘YAWN, I could beat this guy in my sleep”,  and you know what each and every one of them means because, well, he talks a lot, so at this point you’ve absolutely memorized what every face means. He also likes to know he has your full attention because you have his attention all the time, so it’s only fair.

~ Boyfriend!Ridoc who takes you on secret dates and outings all the time. He loves you, he wants to spoil you, and frankly, he never knows when its all gonna end. From sneaking out to go to the tavern alone to simple study dates in an empty classroom where he’s set up some candles for mood lighting, he is always coming up with new ways to spend quality time with you. It’s one of his favorite hobbies, to see how your face lights up every time. 

~ Boyfriend!Ridoc who your dragon has a unique relationship with. They like him, though it certainly didn’t start that way. The man is loud, irritating, and much too unserious for their liking. But over time, with forced proximity, your dragon has grown a fondness for him. “Like a tumor” they’d say, but then let him cuddle you and lean against their side on the flight field after flying practice when the two of you are bored and don’t want to go back inside yet. They don’t let anyone else within ten feet of them, one extra human is bad enough. I also think that the two of your dragons would have to have a good relationship with each other. Not necessarily as mates, but definitely a strong bond of friendship. He always wants eyes on you and within a close distance, which means if your dragons hated each other, it would just make things difficult for the two of you. 

~ Boyfriend!Ridoc who just overall has the best intentions when it comes to you. He trusts you wholly, and expects you to trust him too. It’s impossible not to; he’d absolutely never truly judge you, and has your back in every instance. Trust just comes easily with him. Even if his past conquests come knocking he either ignores them completely (“Do I know you?”) or LOUDLY tells them off if they are feeling bold. No one comes before you in his mind, so there’s no way he’d ever jeopardize what he has with you. 

~ Boyfriend!Ridoc who is just a little sweetheart, who wants his partner to be safe and by his side for as long as time will allow. He’ll do anything to continue having silly dates and fall asleep with you every night. Anything.  

@xadenswhore @littlemissmelodie @jobroho @worldsanna @the-lake-is-calling

[juniperskye]

My Valentines

Based on the following ask: @lucreziaq2001  Thanks🙂. Here's the new request: It is inspired by this video= https://youtube.com/shorts/DveJG0lXFQM?si=HAU2VM0SkjIf8O3H . It would be a One Shot in which Spencer and a female reader have twin daughters aged 5 and on Valentine's Day, Spencer takes the day off work to make sure he is not away on a case and takes the girls out. He brings them flowers and basically shows them how he'd like their future boyfriends to treat them. I think it would be very cute. If you'll write it, thank you💜. You pick the twins' names. – Hi gorgeous, I love this fic idea, also Reid is 10000000000% a girl dad – you won’t convince me otherwise. I hope you love it

Spencer Reid x Wife! Fem Reader Fluff Word count: 1716

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, mom! reader, mentions of pregnant reader and pregnancy, mention of valentine’s day, dates, mentions of food, promoting positive relationships, implications of Spencer having a tough upbringing, let me know if I missed anything.

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

When you found out you were pregnant, Spencer was over the moon. He couldn’t have been more excited to expand your family and become a dad. Here’s the thing about Spencer though, he liked to do research…too much research. You had to tell him to stop giving you statistics about pregnancies and things that could happen to the baby.

Finding out it was twins, that only made things worse. Spencer didn’t let you do anything, always making sure you didn’t do any lifting and that you weren’t on your feet for too long. He needed to ensure that you were okay at all times, not wanting to risk the health of you or your unborn twins.

Four weeks after the discovery of it being twins, you’d gone in to find out the sex of the babies. You’d been hoping for a boy and a girl…but you knew Spencer only wanted girls. He’d told you time and time again that he wasn’t super masculine, and he was scared of having a son…he felt like he’d fail him. Of course you had reassured him, telling him that he’d give your child, regardless of gender, all the love in the world.

He jumped for joy when the doctor confirmed it was fraternal twin girls.

--

Spencer had gone through hundreds of thousands of potential names for your girls, and after vetoing the majority of them, you’d agreed on two names:

Audrina: An English name that means "noble strength".

Iliana: A Spanish name meaning ray of light.

He’d wanted their names to hold meaning, he wanted them to know that their names, their souls, their existence brought the two of you strength and light. And when Audrina and Iliana were born, the names fit perfectly. You’d been worried that you’d see them and it wouldn’t feel right, but in that moment, nothing had ever felt more right.

--

He’d been the most attentive father, explaining to you that he wasn’t spoiling your girls, he was simply setting the bar as high as they deserved it to be. In the four years of fatherhood, Spencer had made sure to prioritize his girls (including you of course). You’d take the girls on mother-daughter dates, going to the zoo, the children’s museum, the park, lunch, the list goes on. Spencer had also adopted this tradition; he’d wanted to go and spend time with them 1:1 too.

This year, he’d decided to start a new tradition. The day before Valentine’s Day, he was going to take the girls out for a date. You were going to get the girls dressed and done up and he’d pick them up and take them to a “fancy” dinner. February 14th was reserved for you.

--

Spencer let you know that the girls would need to be in semi-formal attire, and he’d be picking them up at 6:00 pm. He had started their day off by giving them a gift certificate to your nail salon, so you could take them to get their nails done.

You’d taken them right after lunch, Audrina went with a glittery pink, while Iliana chose a neon purple, you’d gone a little simpler, a French tip.

Once you got home, you let the girls play for a little bit before curling their hair and styling it. The girls had matching outfits, light pink sweaters covered in lip prints, paired with a light pink tutu-style skirt. Their shoes are where they differed, Audrina wore these red cowgirl boots (she’d been exclusively wearing them lately) and Iliana wore her high-top converse – wanting to match her dad.

By the time the girls were completely ready, Spencer was just arriving home. He’d prompted the girls this morning, informing them that he’d be taking them out on a real father-daughter date. They replied with squeals, thrilled to be going out with daddy…while you were excited for a night off and a date with the bottle of wine you’d been saving and your bathtub.

--

A knock on the door had the girls running, tripping over one another to answer it.

“Girls slow down! The last thing we need is scraped up knees to go with your outfits.” You shook your head.

Opening the door you were met with three bouquets of roses, each a different shade. You couldn’t help the smile that took over your features, even though this night wasn’t about you, he’d gone out of his way to make sure you felt acknowledged as well.

“Hi baby.” You greeted.

“Hello, my gorgeous girls.” He handed each of you your flowers, happily taking in the sight of your adorably matching daughters.

“Daddy! Daddy! Are we going now?” Audrina shouted.

“Well babygirl, are you both ready? I don’t want to rush either of you.”

“We’re ready!” Iliana said grabbing her tiny toy purse.

Spencer leaned in, pressing a kiss to your lips as goodbye, before leaning down and placing a big smooch on each of the girls cheeks. You lent down and followed suit.

“I love you guys, have fun!” You called as they made their way to his car.

--

Spencer took the time to open the door for both girls, assisting them into their car seats, letting them choose the music they listened to on the way to the restaurant. He’d chosen a nice steakhouse; one you had frequented on special occasions, he knew the girls liked the food there and would actually eat something.

He helped them out of the car and held each of their hands as they headed up to the entrance, once again holding the door for them.

“Reservation for Reid.” He told the maître d.

Once the three of them were led to their table, already accommodated with booster seats for the girls, he lifted them one by one into their chairs. They were all smiles, enjoying the attention they were getting. Though the girls don’t really notice…it truly kills Spencer that he still has to work so much. He’s done a lot to lessen his workload with the BAU, taking a few months of the year to teach at the university so he doesn’t have to travel with the team. Needless to say, nights like these were his favorite.

--

“Alright girls, what would you guys like to drink?” He asked

“Juice please.” Iliana replied.

“Can I have sprite?” Audrina asked.

“I will tell you what, if you both want a sprite, you can have one…after that, how about we switch to juice or water?” Spencer negotiated.

“Okay!” Audrina replied.

“I want a sprite too!” Iliana changed her mind.

“Sounds good.”

--

The night was continuing on wonderfully, Spencer had ordered the food, steak and French fries for the table, promptly cutting the steak into bite size pieces for the girls. Conversation flowed easily, the girls told Spencer about what they learned in preschool this week, they talked to him about getting their nails done, showing him their now-greasy fingers.

He had been listening intently when Iliana asked him a question.

“Hey daddy, why did you bring us here?”

“Well sweetheart, one day when you are much, much older, you will have a Valentine of your own…” He began.

“Like you and mommy?” Audrina interrupted.

“Yes, just like mommy and me. You’ll each have a special person, and I want to make sure that you understand how important it is to make sure someone is treating you right.” He explained.

“Like you did?” Iliana inquired.

“Yeah baby, like I did today. But I also want you guys to know that not only does someone need to treat you well, but you need to treat them well in return. Like mommy and I are always doing things for one another, trying to meet one another where we’re at.” He finished.

Both girls nodded, clearly not old enough to really understand the weight behind the words Spencer had shared. He just knew that he’d have to continue this tradition of showing the girls what love looked like, not only through these little dates, but also through his interactions with you.

 --

When they arrived home, he had a teddy bear on each of the girls beds waiting for them (you’d been so kind as to place them there after they left). They’d been so excited, giving Spencer no trouble when he put them to bed.

He found you soaking in a bubble bath once he made his way to your shared room. He was so happy to be with you after a long day.

“Hey sweetheart.” He leaned in and pressed a kiss to your temple.

“Hi baby, did you guys have a good time? I got your picture!” You smiled recalling the adorable photo of Spencer sandwiched between your daughters, each of them pressing a kiss to his cheeks.

“We did. I will say, I am glad to be home though. Can I join you?” He asked

“Of course.”

--

Spencer had gently slid in behind you, holding you close to him. The two of you just relaxing after a long day. You leaned back, nuzzling further into his grasp, releasing a deep breath.

“You alright?” Spencer questioned.

“Yeah, he’s just especially active today.” You said, letting your hands run over your prominent bump.

Spencer reached his hands up and ran them along the expanse of your belly, feeling the kicks of your unborn son. His chin coming to rest on your shoulder. Spencer let out the quietest of sighs, and if you hadn’t been paying close attention, you’re sure you’d have missed it.

“You okay?”

‘“Yeah, I’m okay.”

“Spence, you’re going to be a great boy dad. Just like you are with the girls. I know you’re worried, but if anything, your experiences will allow you to teach our son compassion and the ability to express his emotions. He will be capable of making someone incredibly happy, because he has a daddy that makes me so happy.” You gushed.

Spencer sniffled lightly before pressing his lips to the side of your neck. You could feel his lips turn up into a smile, bringing one of your own to your lips. You truly loved him, and you knew from the moment you met him that he’d be an incredible husband and father, and he continues to prove that every passing day.

[kiyzukiy]

Cat distribution system

Sypnosis: Life is hard as it is, so all we all wish for is some comfort in a furry friend. No one accounted for life playing funny tricks so what would happen if you find Caleb in a trash dumpster?

Tags: reader x Caleb, fluff, Cat!Caleb, crack?, funny (hopefully)

A/N: I got inspired by another fic I found on here with a similar flow. If anybody knows what I'm talking about please tag that person. I don't want to disregard any original ideas! >.<

As always, if I missed any tags please tell me.

Word count: 4.8k

I hope you enjoy <3

Divider by me

You groan as you stretch yourself out. Sitting too long is always such a hassle. Tired bones and you felt like your muscles have calcified. If you wouldn't have moved now someone could have mistaken you for a stone statue the way you were perched at your work desk and scrolled endlessly through files. 

Doesn't matter now though. The clock finally releasing you from your workload. Tomorrow was also a day and the files wouldn't suddenly grow legs and run away. No need to do overtime today. 

You rubbed your face. Trying to shake off your exhaustion and slowly blinking the dryness in your eyes away. One more stretch that let out a satisfying crack in your back and you stood up. Packing your things together and making sure that this time you also took your thermal mug with you. Waving your coworkers goodbye you made your way home. Head already in the clouds with your game. Planning your time out of doing your dailies and just admiring your favourite fictional man. A pity that they don’t build men like that in real life.

The chill evening air hitting your face made you shiver the first step you took outside. Cuddling up in your coat and wrapping your scarf up just a tad higher you began your track home. 

Fuck it's cold, you think to yourself. When would spring arrive and you didn't have to be out in this freezing weather anymore? Don't get me wrong, winter is something beautiful and when the snow hits the landscape it was akin to a fairy tale setting. The sunsets even more stunning with the low light and making everything glisten. Colours spreading over the horizon in deep violet and heartwarming orange. Frozen over roads just a bit slippery which made your way to work a small adventure when you played the game “do I land on my bum today or not?”. But enough was enough. 

You wanted the sun back in your days having had your fill with this gloomy grey cloudscape. Waking up when it was still dark out and going home when night greets you again was draining more of your energy than you liked to admit. What made matters worse wasn't even that it didn’t affect only you, but that the melancholic and cold atmosphere was spreading slowly over to the people around you. It was in the way minor inconveniences would grate the nerves of your colleagues or the small tick of the jaw of your boss. The forced smile in service people who normally would make it seem genuine. Point was: everyone was fed up and ready for the seasons to change. When was the last time you saw the sun actually? Was it last October? Two weeks ago? You don't remember anymore. Just- just a long time ago. Pretty sure. Maybe you were a bit dramatic but all you wanted was to feel the warmth again and getting your vitamin D in. 

A rustle next to you snapped you out of your self-pitying lament. Confused you turned your head to the right. Nothing. Just a dark alley. A car passed you by on your left, shortly illuminating a sliver of said alley. A dumpster could be made out but nothing exciting. You shrugged your shoulders and took one step, but another rustle stopped you once more. A sigh left you. Would you really go investigate? You swore this is how the stupid character out of a horror movie always died. This exact way but the curiosity in your mind and veins tried their very best to lure you into that alley to go look. One peak wouldn't hurt right? A man who wanted to drag you into it would have done it by now. There wouldn't be a more perfect chance than right now. The way you stood there like a fine lady in bewilderment. 

This is what you get when you forget the one time your headphones at home. If it would be any other day, you would have continued on. Having passed this particular alley countless times and in daylight it wouldn’t be as scary as it was in this instance. Hopping from one foot to the other, you were uncertain. Would you really? You also could just…leave. Never finding out and always wondering. Spending sleepless nights wondering what could have been in this very alley that made these rustling noises. Or you would forget about it as soon as tomorrow morning came. Maybe it was just the wind that blew over a leaf or bag. On the other hand this could be a cool story you could tell your friends about. Or you could get mugged. 

Alright fuck it. You go. Otherwise you would stand out here in the cold for the next ten minutes pondering about if this decision will have negative consequences on your life. 

Tentatively you took one step into the alley. Instantly your common sense kicked in and pressed adrenaline into your veins. My god, this is the way you would die. Mentally have written your testament and who you would leave behind what you took another step. 

“Hello?”, you asked hesitantly into the night. Frustrated with yourself you grunted. Naturally a serial killer would answer you out of the alley with “yes, behind this dark corner. I made sandwiches, you want one?”. 

You had half a mind just turning back around again, but as if on cue another rustle. This time followed with a bang out of the dumpster. You let out a breath of relief. Oh by the gods, it was just a stray animal…or was it? Nevertheless the strong grip of fear that held your breathing back let a bit loose and you made your way to the dumpster with sure steps. 

Your heart clenched in your chest at the thought that maybe an unlucky racoon got trapped in the dumpster and would meet an unsightly end in one of the waste disposal sites. Without a second thought you opened it and peered inside. Barely enough light from the street lights flooded one side of the dumpster and you saw- nothing. It was pitch black. Quickly you patted your pockets. First coat and then your pant pockets for your phone. One hand fished for it and rather clumsy you unlocked it to get to your flashlight. Now with your weapon of light you peered inside once more and this time you saw- trash. At first. A lot of it, nothing out of the ordinary for a dumpster in a lived in neighborhood. Out of the corner of your eye you saw movement and following it was your hand with your phone. 

“Naaww you poor guy. How did you end up in here?”, you cooed after you spotted a brown cat that had a completely black right arm. Its fluffy fur was completely damped and it looked very dirty. Also something you could expect of a stray cat. Slowly and cautiously you held out your hand to it as to not scare the cat away. 

“Come here. Let me help you”, you said in a low voice. The cat looked at you, then at your hand, rather unimpressed. In true cat manner it seemed like it wanted to say “I don't need your help puny little human”. You giggled. 

“Come on. I don't bite and as soon as you are out of the dumpster I leave you alone. What do you say?”, you tried to reason with the cat as if it could understand you. To your astonishment it acted like it did. Suspicious of your hand the cat sniffed it first. Deeming you not an immediate threat it rose up from its position and stepped closer to your hand and yourself. Slowly you dragged your hand to a spot where you could easily grab the cat and lift it out. 

“Alright buddy. I’m going to grab you now so don't make me regret it by scratching me”, you spoke more to yourself than the cat. You really didn't want to go to the next doctor and get a tetanus vaccine in. The cat still unimpressed with you followed your movement though. Securely you wrapped one hand around its ribcage and the other, after putting your phone away, beneath its hind paws and scooped it up and over the dumpster back on the ground. 

“There ya go”, you smiled down at the cat. “Didn’t even hurt.” 

The cat looked up at you and only then do you notice its blue eyes that really dipped into a deep violet. A splatter of yellowish green accompanied the irises. For such a beautiful cat to be a stray, you almost didn't believe it. 

Also, the cat didn't move. You fully expected it to dash away as soon as its paws were back on the ground but it just stood in front of you. Almost like it was waiting for something. 

“Go on now. Go home”, you crouched down and offered your hand again. “Or don't you have a home? Such a beautiful cat as yourself.” 

The cat once more went to your hand. Starting to purr as it rubbed its head against your hand. Demanding pats. 

“Yes”, you giggled. “Such a handsome cat. And friendly too. You must have a home, right?” 

The cat meowed as if it tried to answer you. Your heart broke a bit. For sure this handsome fellow had a home. As you absentmindedly patted the cat all over you looked around. You felt no collar around the cat’s neck and wondered who it could belong to. Thinking about what to do next, the cat started to rub itself around you. Bumping into you and almost pushing you out of balance. 

“Alright, alright”, you began patting it in earnest again. 

“So, how about I take you home with me for now and then just put up missing posters, hm? Is that a plan?”, you asked the cat. Meowing back at you, you took it as a yes to your plan. Inwardly you celebrated. The cat distribution system finally chose you! Maybe not for long but you now were in the possession of a new cuddly friend. You might not have anything at home but that could be easily fixed. This beautiful fellow also might not stick around for long but for however long you swore you would take the best care of him. Her? It? Right, you never ascertained which gender the cat had. Eh, whatever. As long as you didn't get attached to it and without much pain could give it away again, all was good. Right. Right? 

Future you will hate you for this decision. 

The cat stretched, walking around you once more and then pawing at your knees as if to beg to get picked up again. Opening your coat and scooping it up from the ground, you fulfilled the cat’s wishes. 

“My god. You are really friendly”, you mused to yourself and scratched the cat's head to which in return it purred even louder. 

Together you made your way out of the alley. The dumpster forgotten and your way home just a bit warmer. 

“Don’t run away, okay?”, you said softly to the cat before untangling it from your torso. On your track home it made itself very comfortable on you while you carried it. Its head often flitting from one place to another. You blamed the new height of perspective for the cat's behaviour. Couldn’t blame it, really. Imagine yourself getting hoisted up five times your own height and then carried around places that you never seen before. Now that would be an adventure. For the most part the breathing was calm so you didn’t worry that much. More surprised at the fact how the cat didn’t struggle once to get free. Just enjoying the free ride. 

Cat on the ground in front of the door of your apartment you dove one hand into your bag, trying to find your keys that you carelessly flung inside. With half an eye on the cat all the time. Not that it would decide in the last moment to make a run for it. Granted that it wouldn’t come far or could cats push open an apartment complex door? Probably not or the coincidence would just be big enough that one of your neighbors decided to go out in that exact moment as well. 

You shook your head off these thoughts. Cat was still on the ground and eyeing your door expectantly. Seemingly cat wasn’t even thinking about going anywhere but inside your apartment and here you were already thinking about all the different possible scenarios that would ensue when it ran away. Silly you. 

Key victoriously between your fingers you finally unlocked your home and cat dashed inside like the devil was after it. Puzzled you stood at your door for a bit. 

“Alright? Well…make yourself at home, I guess”, slowly trudging you went after it into your own four walls. Serotonin tingling your brain with the happiness that cat was very excited to explore its new home. 

Exhaustion slowly made itself apparent. Clawing at you and dragging your already tired body. Exhaustion and hunger but motivation wasn’t nowhere near you to make yourself food instantly. Cat on the other hand was curiously looking around. Taking in its new environment. Sniffing, patting around and jumping on shelves to get a better view. 

“Don’t throw it down, I swear to god”, you warned as you spotted cat near a vase with flowers inside. Body despite the sluggish feeling ready to jump to save the vase from its crashing end. Expertly the cat avoided the glass and danced around anything that was not stable. You let out a breath of relief. Automatically your body carried to your couch in the living room on which you rather unceremoniously slumped down on. Ah, finally home. 

_____

How the fuck did he get here? One moment he was in the deepspace tunnel, conducting a new mission and the next he had four paws. Trash surrounded him, it was fucking dark too. He could make out the sound of cars passing by and people walking on the street. Where was he? To his own surprise he wasn’t that cold until he realised that he had fur as well and when he tried to speak only a meow came out. In no way in hell did he turn into a cat, did he? No. What? 

In his moment of utter disorientation, a lid opened and a beautiful face peered down to him. Down? Ah, right. The cat thing. 

Caleb watched you fumble for your phone only to be blinded the very next moment by the harsh light of a phone flashlight. It took several blinks to get his bearing again. You reached out your hand to him. Now this was getting ridiculous. “Poor guy”? “How did he end up here”? Sweetheart, that's what he should be asking. Who the fuck are you anyway and why did you open up this-? Where was he? Is this a trash dumpster? Oh his fucking gods. If he could sigh in annoyance, he would. 

Caleb eyed your hand suspiciously. The smart move would be to take it. Considering everything, he couldn’t get out of this dumpster alone and what could be worse is that, tomorrow the dumpster could be emptied. Nor did he trust humanity enough that another friendly soul would come and pick him up or at least get him out. You were his only shot right now, even if he didn’t want to admit it. So? He sniffed you. Creepy in his own mind but he was a cat now. The least he could do was to make it look convincing. 

You pulled your hand closer to yourself as if to lure him out of his corner. As if he wouldn’t just go to you willingly. How long would he need to put up with this act? Irritation flared up within him. This is so beneath him. 

Scratch you? Yeah, why not actually? Instead he let him get picked up gently. Now was not the time to bite the hand that was feeding him.

The moment was faster over than he could comprehend. Swoop- and he was back on the ground. Caleb looked around. Alright, an alley and- you. In your full glory. Black pants, hair tied up, thick scarf around your neck, an open hanging coat and warm looking boots. Beautiful, pretty and cozy looking. Not a threat. A quick scan and he was certain you carried no gun. Not his worst choice, he thought. 

Let's make a run for it. What do cats normally do to get pity? Humans usually die to pet them. Swallowing his pride he went to you. Did he like to get touched? Sensitive question. If it would be his childhood friend, he wouldn’t mind but a complete stranger? In this form no less? God, that needed willpower and he was already running low because of this situation. Please let this all be a dream and he would wake up in a few moments in Skyhaven. 

“A home?”, yeah in the arms of someone else but that was not here. Just where in heaven sake was he? Get this over with, woman and just take him with you. 

Please, he meowed. Inwardly he sighed. Good lord…

Mercy was shown and you actually picked him up. Giddy and a happy smile on your face you wrapped him up in your coat. It was warm and against his own doing he began to purr at the sensation. Okay so maybe this wasn’t as bad as he imagined. Distracted a bit and sleep pulling at him, he let himself enjoy this small reprieve for a bit. 

Lights flitted by behind his eyelids and he looked around. First fact? This is not Linkon nor Skyhaven. Second, he didn’t recognise anything. If this was in fact a dream, his subconsciousness was running wild today. The only thing grounding him was you. Your warmth, your soothing touch and your somewhat familiar scent that he confused with that of MC. It wasn’t as overwhelming or confusing when he could nuzzle up to you for now. Just shortly, only for a bit. To get his mind back on track, you know? 

The walk you both took, well- you took with him being carried, was not long lived. You said something but he didn’t pay any attention. Something something not running away something something. Where would he go anyway? For christ sake he was a cat right now. First thing he needs to get rid off anyway. Second thing was to get back home. Like home. Once more begging to the skies above that this was a dream. A very vivid one. Caleb couldn't decide if this was a nightmare or not. Was he maybe more exhausted than he wanted to admit? Did he have an accident on his expedition and was now in a coma? Please let it be just that. Maybe also just cognitive training done by Ever. What does he know? 

He heard keys jiggling, a soft clicking of a lock falling back and then a door opening. The ash-brown haired man…uh cat made a run for it. Into the apartment! He stopped in his tracks to get everything in. Analysing your furniture and layout. There was one floor length window that opened up to a small, cozy balcony. A couch in an open space that he guessed was your living room. With a TV mounted to the opposite side of the couch. A lengthy cupboard underneath. On it a few nick-nacks: a charger cable connected to a tablet, a switch console and a bunch of books. The couch itself was decorated with plushies and cushions rounded up with a throw blanket. Some of the walls accented by warm pastel colours to widen the otherwise small space. He peered down one corridor and made out two doors. Guessing one of them was a bathroom and the other your own. 

Caleb inspected your walls. The one on the far end and left of the couch was more bookshelf than wall. Filled up almost to the brim but he spotted also there nick-nacks in between. He jumped on the couch arm and continued on another shelf. Slowly getting closer to your kitchen area. Once more he heard you say something. Bla bla not throwing down something. He had half a mind to fuck with you, but again not the opportunity to bite the hand that feeds him. Curious what you meant in the first place he looked back and felt the vase against his body. God it was so weird to see his fluffy legs and a tail too. Dirt clung to the fur and he wondered what he did before he regained his consciousness in that dumpster. But better not test what it would take to make you throw him out back on the street. For all he could know, you could be the one with answers. If not, he could still leave. 

Rustling and then a dull thumb. Caleb once more looked back. You all but collapsed on your couch and let out a sigh. Tiredness was written all over your face. Your body practically radiated exhaustion. The ash-brown cat didn’t notice before but how could he? Way too immersed in his own problems. Nonetheless were you kind enough to pick him up. Brave enough to go into that spooky alley. Hell, he wouldn’t have. Not without a gun at least. You also were nice enough to carry him here. Not once complaining. If he dares to say, happy to have him with you. Just as warm as he was. Disregarding that he smelled like the trash he lay in.

Suddenly you moved, like you just remembered something important. As if possessed you scrambled up and reached for your tablet. Okay? 

Back to discovering your place he left you to your own devices. 

Noises sprung from your tablet. An interesting melody and a woman singing. Just what were you doing? Playing a game? Well, he was done looking at your kitchen that was, well what could be interesting about a kitchen? It was a kitchen. Jumping from the counter to your table and back on the ground he tapped over to you. One last jump on the couch right next to you. What he saw next made his breath hitch. 

There she was. His childhood friend. On the screen…with another guy? Did you just took pictures of her with another man? Who was he? Some dude with white hair and a pose slung around his childhood friend. They looked happy together. Frozen in time for the picture. What is going on? Did you know her? How could you do this? How- what? How did you take pictures of her? Switching her poses like that? But why did it look so much like a game? Like a 3D rendering of her? What was going on? 

But as soon as he needed to process what he saw, your fingers deftly moved over the screen and collected some rewards in an…event? What? Huh? 

“Is it a new bug? Why can’t I select Caleb?”, you mumbled to yourself. Completely oblivious to the distress ball that he was right now. To your own confusion you couldn’t do anything with Caleb in your game besides recalling the memories you have obtained of him. 

The head of just mentioned man reared. What was happening? Did you know him? What was this game? Who are you? What is happening?! 

Enough, he jumped on your tablet. 

“What the- ey!”, you exclaimed and he just meowed back. That's what he wanted to yell right now. What was going on?! Answer him! 

“You can’t just- get off!”, you giggled. Not taking his jumbling, confusing emotions and obvious distress seriously. 

Okay, different approach. He quickly needed a different approach. Before he could come up with anything you picked him up once more and placed him beside you. Damn him right now for being nothing but an eight pound raging ball of fur. Take him seriously, god damn it! Caleb began to meow again and cursed inside his thoughts. One paw on your tablet, but you giggled again. 

“What is it? You also want to play?”, you smiled at him, picked him up. Again. Woman, do it one more time and he is going to forget his rational part about him and would really bite you. He needed answers and not pats. Oh- okay. You placed him on your lap. The tablet on your knees so he could have a good view of it. 

“Should I explain it to you?”, you continued on and began showing him everything the game had to offer. Beginning with talking with four different men, battling wanderers in bounty hunting or abyssal chaos up to the “main story”, as you called it, until the memories you collected of said four men. Him included as the fifth. What? Without thinking he raised his paw on “falling for you” and selecting himself. Not half a fuck given that he gave himself away, that he was, in fact, not a cat. That's the whole point though, wasn't it? He was a man! Not a damn cat! He was stuck here. God knows where and you! You just playing with her life, with his! With his life like it was a game?! 

These were…all his, well some of them anyway, memories he had with MC. The childhood friend he tried to protect at all costs. Given that his methods weren’t always as pure as he wanted them to be but more often than not necessary. All splayed out for your eyes to see and…rekindle them? Watch them over and over? Relive them?

“Do you like him?”, you asked in a soft voice and he turned to look at you. Totally not caring that he, a cat, was patting on your tablet with human like intelligence. Were you that tired? Half asleep already? 

Like him? He was him! How could he tell you that? So that you would explain further. Maybe he could figure out this way how he got here. Wrecking his brain he tried to come up with anything. Fuck it. Fucking dip this cat shit. Even more so than he already has. How blaringly obvious did he need to be? For your rather slow mind to comprehend what he means. 

Trying to figure out how to show you, tell you or rather scream at you that this 3D rendering of him was he, he put a paw on his image and then on his furry body. As well as he could at least. Which in result was him patting his image then getting up, sitting on his hind legs and putting his paw on his torso area. Caleb begged to the skies above that you understood his message but to his dismay you looked at him puzzled. Oh his fucking gods…

Alright. Different approach. This was taking all of his patience and he barely had none. 

Once more he put one paw on his image that beneath showed a short video out of the perspective of what he only could guess was MC. He didn’t want to think too long about it. Focus. Again he raised his other paw and put it on his chest. This time though he meowed and looked at you imploringly. Please, please let this be enough so you put two and two together. But even he realised that this was rather far-fetched and if this same thing would happen to him, neither would he understand what a cat would try to tell him. 

“What is it? Why-”, and then you looked at the screen that froze over the memory. “Hm?”

Oh my god, did you understand? Please! 

You looked past his small frame and he could see the thoughts behind your eyes. Yes, yes, yes. Yeah, he was Caleb! Come on. Give him answers!

“Nah”, you giggled. Not knowing what you might have said he just nodded with his head. 

“His name is Caleb, should I call you that as well?”, you thought out loud and stroked down from his head to his back. 

No! Yes, his name was Caleb but no! God fucking damn it. Just how was he supposed to tell you that Caleb was well- him. He was Caleb. The same man, now a cat in this universe, that you saw on that screen. Distraught, he wrecked his brain. Unfortunate for him there was no book or briefing or training he could have done to prepare him for playing charades as a cat. “How weird would it be if I named you after a otome game video character?”, you sighed. “God, I must be very lonely to even be considering that.” Maybe, but not the point here, woman. You could question your terrible life choices another time but right now, he needed you to figure out his image riddle!

~~~*~~~*.~~~*~~~*~~~*.~~~*~~~*~~~*.~~~*~~~*~~~*.~~~*~~~*~~~*.~~~*

Henlo, to everybody that made it all the way down here! I plan on making this a multi part story, so stay tunned! If anybody has some cat involved stuff and want to see it here, don't be too shy to tell me about it <3

Thank you for reading, beautiful soul

[leashybebes]

fic: blue and gold (12/28)

@bucktommyfluffebruary day 12 prompt is a day at the beach and my fill is here. picks straight up from yesterday

tumblr version below for those who prefer to read here.

Sal and Gina's place is close to the beach and when Tommy wakes up he can hear the waves. He's always loved their house for this exact reason. He groans, reaches for Evan but finds the other side of the bed empty. He pries an eye open and sees a note propped against a glass of water. He squints, makes out wake up, lazy. Me and G going to the beach!!!

The amount of energy Evan has is truly startling to Tommy. He rolls onto his back and rubs his hand over his eyes. He's spent countless nights in this guest room, but never with anyone by his side. He smiles despite the hangover for a few seconds before Sal yells from downstairs.

"Ey! Kinard!"

"Oh my god, shut up," Tommy grumbles, before pushing himself up on his elbows. "What?" he hollers back.

"You want some grease?"

And god, Tommy really does. He levers himself out of bed, sped along by the smell of bacon, frying eggs, sausage patties. There's a sandwich waiting for him on the kitchen table and Sal is several bites deep into his own.

"Better halves are already down at the beach," Sal says with a shudder. "I'm gonna shower and then we can join them? Sweat off the hangover?"

Tommy gives a thumbs up, his mouth too stuffed with Sal's patented hangover cure sandwich to speak.

Half an hour later, in a set of borrowed clothes, he walks with Sal to the beach. It takes them a moment to spot Evan and Gina, splashing around in chest-deep water.

"She likes him a lot," Sal says as they settle in the sand.

"Yeah?" Tommy pretends he isn't pleased. "Present company aside, she's a good judge of character."

Sal flicks sand at him and Tommy slaps at his arm. Behind his sunglasses, he watches Evan in the water, the way he ducks under the surface, the way the water streams down his body, the way he throws his head back to laugh with Gina.

"Put your tongue back in your mouth, Jesus," Sal says as he tosses Tommy a bottle of water.

"Oh, like you're any better."

Sal shrugs. "What can I say? I did well and I know it."

"Same," Tommy admits.

He settles back to let the sun bake him for a while, only opening his eyes when he feels a shadow fall over him, drops of salt water landing on his chest. Evan grins down at him, smile eclipsing the sun, eyes bluer than the sky.

"Hey," he says.

Tommy lowers his sunglasses enough to look at him, clear, unfiltered, beautiful.

"Hey, baby. You and Gina having fun?"

"So much. She's awesome."

"Taste in men aside, she sure is."

Tommy ignores Sal's noise of protest, reaches for Evan's hand to coax him down onto the hot sand by his side.

"Missed you," he says.

Sal pretends to vomit and Tommy makes a mental note to throw something at him when he's done kissing Evan.

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

You know the stereotype of “Stoner boyfriend and goth girlfriend”? Cecil is prime for that. Imagine Cecil with a goth partner. He’s so interested in your weird little interests and thinks that look is really cool.

I can just see him high as fuck looking at your collection of spooky things while he’s high.

Imagine taking him to a goth club too. He doesn’t know the songs or anything but he’s high as balls and just vibing.

Cecil would fuck so hard with an alternative partner I just know it

Oh my gossshh! I absolutely adore this! He would!!!!!!!

(Just a tiny drabble!)

Cecil Dennis x f!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals • Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • buy me a coffee? •

Warnings: fluff, Cecil's high, not beta read, please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 331

“I love these.” Cecil hums as he speaks, unintentionally stretching out the words. “They’re so great.” 

You bite back the little laugh that wants to escape your lips. Cecil is adorable, but when he’s high it’s like there’s an extra level that’s released. 

“You like these?” You stand behind him, pressing your chest to his back and point at the crystals he’s admiring on the shelf. 

He nods. “Love them.” He keeps his hands at his sides, his fingers flexing. You know he wants to touch them so badly, but he’s holding back. “Where do you get them all, do you find them?” 

You chuckle, “Find them?” 

“Yeah,” he nods, looking at you with a dopey grin. “Like in the ground?” 

“I haven’t mined for any sadly.” You stroke his hair and he presses his head into your hand. 

“No, I mean, like in the dirt. The ground. You know?” 

You don’t know.

He swallows and continues, “Like dig them up, like under trees.”

“Are you thinking of truffles Cec?” 

He pauses, thinking hard. “Maybe?” 

“Okay, well, don’t eat these. You’d break your teeth.” You say soothingly. 

He shakes his head rapidly. “I would never. Never. They’re yours. If anyone’s gonna eat them, it’s you. I’d never take that away from you.” 

You press your mouth against his shoulder and chuckle. “I don’t want to eat them Cec.” 

He nods like you’ve said something very wise. 

“Here,” you take a polished piece of obsidian. “Why don’t you hold this one?” 

His eyes light up like you’ve given him the keys to the universe. “Are you sure?” 

“Of course.” You stroke the hair on the nape of his neck with your free hand as you give him the stone. 

He takes it carefully, holding it reverently. Something about it reminds you of a small child holding a very tiny kitten. 

“You like it?” You ask softly.

He nods. “It’s the best. But not as best as you.” 

You snort and he beams. 

Thank you for reading!

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[bullet-prooflove]

Request for Wes Mitchell please ❤️

"Still, I don't let go And fields of flowers grow"

Tagging: @kmc1989 @mckinleysbones @district447 @witchygagirl @cosmosnkaz

Prequel piece to:

One Night - Wes asks if he can stay the night while he finds a place in Budapest.

Think About It - Wes asks you to think about his offer.

Push - Wes realises he's pushed you too hard.

Broken - Wes doesn't think you're broken.

Demons - Wes has his own demons.

Night Calls - Wes always calls you at night.

It’s been a couple of years since the night you and Wes spent the night together. Wes, he’s had plenty of great sex before but he’s never made love, not until you. It’s all he can think about as he sits in the back row at the LA Law Enforcement Conference and watches you up on that stage, discussing International Policing Tactics and the role of Fly Teams throughout Europe. It’s interesting stuff but his focus isn’t on your words, it’s on whether he’s just caught a glimpse of silver on that wedding finger.

By the end of the session he still can’t tell, it’s the bane of sitting in the nosebleeds, he doesn’t get to see everything he wants to. It shouldn’t matter, he tells himself, after all he’s still with Ella but the thought of you married to another guy, it twists him up inside.

He thinks about approaching you at the drinks reception but his phone has been vibrating up a storm in his pocket, Ella is on a tirade because she found the conference leaflet on his nightstand and she knows you’re one of the speakers.

He’s been difference since that night, he knows it and so does she. Right now he’s just going through the motions, maintaining the status quo even though he knows this thing between the two of them hasn’t been good in a while. The fighting is getting worse, there’s mistrust on both sides. He can’t forgive her, she can’t forgive him.

What is this all for? He questions himself on a regular basis.

Deep down he knows the answer. Wes, he’s terrified of something real because if it goes bad that’s something he will never recover from. It’s a Catch 22 because he craves it so viscerally, it makes his chest physically hurt everytime he lays eyes on you.

His phone buzzes in his jacket, drawing his attention away as some silver fox hands you a drink. He focuses on the way the other man touches you, a light palm on your lower back as he whispers in your ear. It feels like a gut punch, like everything is wrong and he can’t seem to figure out how to fix it.

It doesn’t matter, he tells himself, it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter…

But it does, it really fucking does.

Love Wes? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[castleskies]

how it was it will never be again

Two weeks after Elgar'nan is defeated, the Veilguard dismantles – or, I listened to the new SYML album.

Spoilers for Veilguard's ending, ft. Rook de Riva and romanced!Lucanis.

Someday I'll get this on A03 (if you'd like to see it there instead, let me know!)

i.

Emmerich is the first to leave. He has, after all, proper duties to attend to as a professor in the Grand Necropolis. One might argue that his job is even more in demand, with the recent conclusion of events. The party that escorts him is sizable – Rook follows him to the eluvian in the Crossroads; Manfred is personally ferried by Assan, who's taken a shine to the spirit. (Emmerich's worried, but Manfred's so pleased that he can't find it in him to discourage it.)

Rook had thought that Manfred might take the parting harder; but it's Emmerich, who tries for a "My dear Rook–" only to warble at the end that does. Rook tilts her head as she waits for the professor, normally eloquent, to continue; and when nothing else is said, she does what a Crow does best – takes action, by drawing him into a hug (for after everything he's done, a hand stretched into the Fade for her, this feels too little; not enough.)

Beside, Manfred makes a sound of an excited hiss.

Rook draws him into a hug, too.

ii.

It's Taash who leaves, next. The Lords of Fortune don't rest long – always in search of more gold and glory – and their time with the Veilguard is borrowed, after all. Taash forbids any crying or tearful farewells, which is to say everyone is made to be on their best behavior, otherwise.

Rook finds them lingering in Harding's room, the day before they're meant to leave.

"No tears," Taash warns; and Rook smiles the way she's been smiling, worn and wry with lines around her mouth that's sunk a little deeper, after all this time. "I was just going to say the room still smells like cheese, actually," which in turn causes Taash to get misty eyed instead. There's a shared sorrow that hangs between the two of them; the way that Taash is Rivaini and proud but no pride can bear an unending grief for long.

Rook says nothing else, and leaves them there.

They part at the Hall of Valor – Rook smartly sneaks out before Isabela can convince her to go in the ring for one more round.

iii.

Davrin is a man of duty – and while the Grey Wardens arguably have no further purpose, the griffons are still in need of care.

Still, it doesn't make his departure any easier. Davrin takes little with him; leaves more behind, really, a lifetime accustomed to traveling light. Arlathan promises a home, but Rook has a nagging sensation that he won't stay in one place for long – not with the promise of a detective agency opening in Miranthous with Neve, or Bellara's declaration that she'd come by and Rook has no doubt Davrin will be put to work.

Rook thinks he'd enjoy it – keeping busy, doing things with his hands; she'd miss watching him whittle wood while petting Assan in his quarters. He seems to realise it too, pressing a small wood figurine into her palm before he goes. It's easy to overlook how well Davrin sees a person and knows them. It's always been easy to be in his company.

Rook glances down; there's a chess piece of the Tower that he's carved himself. "Don't be a stranger, Rook," he says, as Rook's fingers wrap around the wood figurine. "You bet."

Assan nips her fingers playfully. No tears, Taash had said; but she might have snuck one against the griffon's feathers in a parting hug.

iv.

Neve doesn't quite declare that she's leaving. Instead, she comes for breakfast one day with her bags and a look that Rook can't miss. Lucanis' hands her a coffee for the road – probably the best one you'd get for a while, he says almost exasperatedly, and it sparks a laugh from Rook and a roll of eyes from the detective.

"He's good for you, too," she says slyly, and Rook mirrors Lucanis' exasperation as she shakes her head; never the last word, not with Neve involved, and Rook doesn't examine too deeply how well the detective sees her and the absence of laughter, since – "you stay out of trouble, now."

As Neve shimmers out of sight through the eluvian, Rook is struck with the notion that everyone she started this journey with has left –

v.

But she turns and finds herself embraced: it's Lucanis who draws her close, having come with her as he has, everytime; and walks her back to the Lighthouse.

vi.

Bellara is among the last to leave because she simply cannot pass up the opportunity to be in The Fade for just a little longer – though her relationship with it is strained from the scars of the blight, an invisible undercurrent that perpetually hums beneath her skin even after everything. But Arlathan needs her; Bellara has duties that she holds dear.

"You have to come visit," Bellara all but invokes the promise out of her, sealed with hooked pinky fingers. Bemused, Rook latches on a little longer, and tries to ignore the sting of Bellara leaving.

"Show me Arlathan," Rook says at last, as she withdraws her hand. "The future that you'll make."

vii.

Rook knows that Lucanis has been delaying his departure for her. It's not lost on her that the First Talon is in demand; and now that gods are slain (twice over!) his services have only become more coveted, for the right price. He says he can stay as long as he can put off the Crows, but if Viago's latest letter indicates anything –

Idiot, it begins with, as if he is not addressing a Hero of the Veilguard (or so the Minrathous papers write).

– it is that the Crows give no respite for rest.

"First Talon." Rooks attempt lacks Davrin's gravitas, but draws Lucanis' attention all the same. Her fingers are threaded through his hair as he lies next to her; she smiles, wry, at the attention. "Can't put the Crows off forever."

Which is to say – he'll have to leave, tomorrow. They will return to Treviso; pick up pieces of a life that's been all but put on hold – since Viago had sent her away; since the Ossuary had held him under. Things aren't the same as they were back then, but it's not a bad thing.

Things are changing; she knows he wants it to.

viii.

It's Lucanis who asks, this time, as they stand before the eluvian into the Cantori Diamond.

"I have you."

It's Rook who takes his hand, and squeezes it. "You do."

[chimivx]

gimme gimme gimme 5 -> mingi x fem!reader -> nice for what

wc: 9.9k warnings: 18+, sexual content and alcohol consumption in every part, infidelity themes... if i missed anything please let me know! posted: 2/10/25 7:03 pm est.

masterlist ~ <- previous part - next part ->

“Talk to me.”

Sitting up beside Mingi, hair thrown astray, blankets and sheets tossed around from the night, you’ve watched him toss and turn for ten minutes, ignoring you. After catching you with Yunho he’d disappeared, shimmying beneath the sheets only a few minutes after you’d put yourself to bed. Not a word shared.

“Aurora told me things about him, I had to find out for myself,” you said, keeping your voice quiet, trying to be as nice as you possibly could. Mingi released a breath, a sigh, and rolled out of bed. 

“Why?” he asked, his tone sharp. Taking his hands to his hair he shook the strands about and stepped into the bathroom, not bothering to close the door behind him. “If it’s between Rora and Yunho, let it stay between them.” 

Mulling over your thoughts, flashbacks of the night so prominent, so vivid, you hung your head. “She, like, asked me for help, Mingi.” After the flush of the toilet and the running of the sink water he appeared, dragging his wet fingers through his strands once more, pushing and keeping it back off his forehead. Muscles flexing while he moved, his bare torso and boxers hanging low on his hips made your heart skip a beat.

“Did she?” he asked, eyes narrowing. He moved to the nightstand, putting his glasses on, the thin frames. “She did that?” You nodded and he laughed. “Tori, go talk to your boyfriend's best friend he hasn’t spoken to in weeks? Go talk to my ex who was fucking a whole other bitch our entire relationship?” Stomach going sour, you loosed a breath and squeezed your eyes shut. “Did she say that?”

“No, but she…” Opening your eyes, you gazed up at him and watched his face soften in real time as much as he fought for it not to. “She said she misses me, Mingi.”

Dancing his eyes about the bedroom, he planted his hands behind his neck. “Fantastic,” he grumbled. “Did Yunho tell you he misses me?” He moved to clothe himself, sweatpants and a t-shirt slung over a dresser.

“He asked about you,” you said just as he reached for the doorknob. He paused, hand hovering over the golden handle. “And, he said he still cares.” Looking over his shoulder at your small smile, he watched you pat the bed in front of you. “Sit, don’t leave me when you’re mad, please.” Straightening out, he lowered his eyes and obeyed, dragging his feet over the floor, letting his mass of self lay down before you. “I’m sick of you being mad at me.”

His eyes went wild. “Days ago you were sick of my presence!”

You sighed, eyes closing, head lolling back. 

Protect what you do have.

“It sounds empty,” you whispered, looking down at him and his big brown eyes. “But, I’m sorry.”

“It’s not empty,” he said, finally turning his volume down. “You wouldn’t say it just to say it.”

Pulling your bottom lip between your teeth, you felt that lump in your throat. Blinking up at you, innocent eyed and having done nothing wrong to deserve any hostility, the urge to cry grew.

“I’m having a hard time, Mingi.”

He let out a breath, one he’d been holding since before you got on an airplane. On his stomach, he dropped his head into the duvet, his arms plastered beside it, making you laugh. A quiet one, but it worked. Scrambling to sit up, he crossed his long legs underneath him and put his massive hands on your knees. 

“Tell me,” he whispered, chin low, brows flipped over. “Everything, Tor.”

Laying your hands over his, your fingers slipping within his grasp, you held onto him tight, and took a deep breath. Whether he understood anything or not, this was what he wanted. This would be good for you, for both of you. This was something you should’ve done over a week ago.

“It’s all so different now,” you said, and he nodded along, drinking up every word that spilled from your lips. “Everyone is changing, people are leaving, Yeosang and Ryujin, some have already left.” An endearing slight tilt of his head. “Life was so good, for so long, and then it happened, and it fucked it all up.” Scrunching your nose, being flung back in time whenever you spoke of it in detail, you sniffled though no tears were apparent.

Mingi tightened his fingers to let you know he was there.

“Yeji didn’t just take an opportunity from Ror. She didn’t just break our trust, she… She’s still ruining us and she’s not even here!” Looking up at him and his glistening eyes, you felt your lip crinkle, and finally, a tear. 

Mingi scooted closer to you, taking a hand to your cheek, his thumb brushing the stray tear away. “I’m sorry it still bothers you like this.”

Nuzzling into his touch, you continued, “If she didn’t do what she did, Isla would still be here.” Mingi nodded. “Ryujin wouldn’t have to pretend like she’s okay. Yunho,” Mingi took a breath, and so did you, “Yunho would be here. Him and Ror… You and Yunho…”

“Yeah, maybe,” he mumbled, eyeing his thumb where it brushed over your cheek.

“Mina is a stupid bitch,” you grumbled, and he smirked.

“Torilynn!”

You cracked a laugh, shrugging. “She’s the reason he’s not around.”

Sighing, Mingi pursed his lips, then whispered, “Stupid bitch.” Laughing with him, you veered forward and pressed your head into his chest, breathing him in. Tipping his chin, he pressed a kiss to your unruly hair. Sitting here half clothed, freshly woken up, tangled in one another, oh, so needed. “He said he still cares?” he asked you after a moment of quiet, breathing in tandem.

“He did.” Sitting up, you moved yourself closer, nearly climbing onto his lap. “He was hurt about it.”

Toying with your hair, smoothing it out, Mingi asked, “That’s what you guys talked about last night?”

“I…” you took a breath, “At Cheers.” He paused. “I spoke with him.”

Mingi pulled his hand back and slouched. “Tori,” he whispered. 

Grabbing onto his wrists, this time you do climb into his lap, both of your legs wrapping around his waist. “I know, I wanted to tell you but Ror saw and she got mad and it’s why she was pissed at me yesterday. You and me, we keep going around, and around, and around about the same stuff, and no matter what I do I can’t make that better, when in reality, I couldn’t fuckin’ cum ‘cause I had all this shit in my head!”

Straight faced for no longer than a beat, Mingi burst out in laughter, laying his head over your shoulder. In awe, a smile creeping onto your lips, you shook your head. “I love you,” he mumbled through his giggles and sighs, his body shaking the bed as he laughed.

“You mean that?” you asked, raising your brows. Wrapping your arms around his back, you latched them together by your wrists. He lifted his head with a lazy smile on his lips.

“More than you know.”

“I love you, too.”

“Why shut me out?” he whispered, his breath warming your skin, your noses centimeters apart. “You’ve never done that before, not even when your sister made us miserable at your birthday last year.”

Rolling your eyes, you said, “When we went to Iloa and my night became hers and my parents promoted it as her night out.”

Cringing, he nodded. “Damn, yeah.”

“It’s whatever,” you brushed it off with a shrug, “My dad paid for this vacation. I think he felt guilty. She gets their attention, I get their money.”

His eyes flickered to your lips. “You’ll always have my attention.”

With a soft smile you whispered, “Thank you, baby.” Closing the space between you, you pressed a kiss to his lips, one gentle and short. Meeting his eyes once you parted from him, your smiles grew in time, air between your bodies a thing of the past. Hooking one arm around you he kicked his legs out beneath him and laid you on your back, the heat of his kisses ripping a whine from your throat, his body weight over you instinctively making your knees part to make room for his waist. Fingers digging through his hair, tugging gently at the strands, but just enough for him to groan, for his sweats to grow a little tighter.

Tongue sneaking past your lips, he slowed everything down, the tip dragging along the edge of your teeth. Snaking a hand down your middle, his long fingers slipping underneath the band of the shorts you’d slept in, they breached your center, and just before he could get a moan out of you, you pulled his hand away.

Lips pulling away with a smack, he pressed his forehead to yours. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you breathed, speaking in whispers. Pulling the shorts off of you, watching him watch you, you smiled. “Don’t want that.”

His heavy lidded eyes flickered to meet yours. “Tor, I should-”

“Don’t make me wait, Song Mingi.” His sweats went next, your hands yanking them off of him in a hurry. “Get inside me.”

Arms slung around your back, having put you back in your clothes moments prior, Mingi pressed his lips to your cheek while you struggled to pull your hair back. Moving around his kisses, leaning into them, letting them land elsewhere as your hands worked, you finally tied your layers into a pony and spun in his grasp, kissing him properly.

“I don’t wanna go down there,” he whispered to you, dragging his hands over your back, sliding them further, teasing the band at your waist. Pouting your lips, he caught them in a kiss. “Let’s stay here.”

“I wish,” you whispered with a smile. His gaze danced around your face. “We have to help clean up, I know it’s a mess.”

“The house or the people?” He smirked.

Rolling your eyes, you huffed, “Both.”

With a squeeze of his hands, he asked, “Are you gonna talk to Rora?”

“I’ll have to see what kind of mood she’s in,” you whispered, eyes flickering down to his lips you wished you could drown in for the rest of the day. Maybe the rest of the vacation. “She definitely doesn’t remember anything about last night.” 

Mingi brought a hand up, grazing it over your cheek. His brows turned under in the center. “She’s honest when she drinks. Whatever she said to you, it’s the truth, whether she shows it when she’s sober or not. If she misses you drunk, she misses you.”

That means her feelings for Yunho…

“Right,” you breathed, lashes fluttering in hesitance to say any more. “Let’s go down, gonna need you behind me if I talk to her.” Turning for the door, Mingi grabbed onto your hand, pulling you back some.

Lips tightening, he glanced down to your hands. “Just wanted to ask you,” he started, thumb dragging over your wrist as he looked into your eyes, “Is there was anything else you wanted to tell me?”

Everything came to mind, the last week or so like a flashback before your eyes, occurring between you and Mingi. There were things you were unsure of, like the mystery texter you haven’t heard from since yesterday morning, or Jongseob talking about you to all of his friends apparently. The latter seemed the more normal of the two, that happened more often, Mingi already knew Jongseob was a little shit, that he talked about you, that he properly wanted you. This texter though… That was yours to keep, yours to hold onto. A game to play with yourself, one you wouldn’t let get too deep, you’d simply find out who was messaging you, then let it go. 

“Uh,” you sighed, shrugging your shoulders, “Jongseob’s been up my ass whenever he’s around, but I keep him in line. That’s about it,” you said. “I’ll sort things out with Aurora, then I’ll let you know what’s going on with us.”

A smile peeked out onto his cheeks, one that didn’t reach his eyes. Pulling you closer, he kissed your forehead and nodded for the door. “Let’s go,” he whispered. 

Red plastic cups were scattered across the floor, even on the third floor, where people didn’t venture last night. Picking them up, stacking them together, both you and Mingi with a couple in your hands, the two of you didn’t leave the other's energy, sticking close together, almost side by side, elbows brushing as you passed by the other. 

The house was quiet. Silent. Weird.

“What time is it?” you asked Mingi within a whisper, starting down the stairs for the second floor, grabbing cups along the way and stray trash.

Mingi bent over on the stairs, brows focused, picking up the end of a joint between his fingers. Holding it up for you to see, you popped your brows and shook your head with a snicker. “Close to one, I think.”

“Why is no one else up?” 

All around the bar, in front of Seonghwa and Soul’s doors, a mess. Shoving trash into your arms, the stack of cups growing, you stepped over spills on the floor, crumbs and crushed up, trampled on food, a broken shot glass behind the bar, liquor bottles littered on every surface.

“When the fuck did all of this happen,” you muttered, straightening up what you could with what room you had left in your hands. Glancing about at the lounge chairs, it seemed so far that no people were left behind, everyone must’ve left. 

Mingi started putting bottles away until he grumbled about coming back to do it later. “Should we even bother, what’s tonight gonna turn into?” he asked, giving you a look.

Pursing your lips, sauntering by him to the stairs, you winked. “I’m going to Wave tonight, I don’t know about you.”

He smirked. “You got a date?”

Tossing your ponytail over your shoulder, you looked back at him. “Are you asking me out, Song Mingi?”

He fumbled with the things in his arms as you gave him a once over. “Maybe.” His voice faltering made you laugh. 

“Hm, well,” you began, starting down the stairs for the kitchen, Mingi hurrying behind you, “I planned to meet up with this guy.”

A warm hum sounded. “Oh, really?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you smiled, looking back over your shoulder, washing away whatever subtle worry he wore on his face. “He’s really tall.”

Mingi blinked. “Taller than me?”

“Just as tall as you,” you said with a giggle. “He’s got blonde hair,” you took a step into him when you both reached the first floor, “He wears these cute little glasses that make me crazy.” Mingi smiled now, tipping his chin down to keep his eyes locked on yours. “Sometimes he’s so silly,” you whispered, the narrowing of your eyes over your smirk making him roll his eyes, “I make jokes and he doesn’t get them.”

He furrowed his brow. “Hey, I get them.”

Taking a hand to his cheek, you give it a pinch. “Of course you do.”

There’s a moment of quiet between you both before Mingi whispered, “You were talking about me right?”

Standing to your tiptoes you pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose. “Yes,” you breathed, fluttering your lashes. He flashed you his teeth in the quickest, smallest smile. “I want to go with you,” you said, taking you and your shadow into the kitchen and around the island to the garbage that you held open for him to dump the contents of his arms into. “And, if anyone else in this house plans to go, like Soul, or anyone else, then we’ll make it a night.”

Sitting up from the couch, quite literally folding himself in half, Yunho popped his head over the cushions. “Where you guys going?”

Jumping a mile, clinging onto Mingi’s arm, you both faced the sofa with an intake of breath, startled. 

“Jesus Christ,” you sneered, glaring his way, shocked to find him still in the building. “Did you sleep on the fucking couch?”

He and Mingi shared something of a look, one unbeknownst to you. Their relationship was their own, their friendship was theirs and theirs only. Made for one another, platonic soulmates if you will, they were brothers, the kind that spoke their own language, the kind that always covered for the other, at least would have, back when the circumstances weren’t detrimental. Whatever they shared now in this moment, it wasn’t for you to understand. 

“I did,” Yunho said. “I’ve been up for like an hour.”

Mingi shook his head. “And you’ve just been laying here?”

“I can’t exactly go walking around this house, can I?” Yunho shot him a glare. 

Your boyfriend shrugged. “We have a… there’s an extra room upstairs…”

The back of your hand swatted at his thigh. “He would not wanna sleep up there,” you whispered through your teeth, but Yunho heard you anyway.

Dropping his head with a laugh, he muttered, “Spare me.”

Tension grew thick, the air going dense, closing in around the three of you. Neither of them knew what to do, knew what to say. Boys were different when it came to this sort of thing, in your years of growing up with a sister they were an entirely different species to deal with, and since your start at Nasara you’ve only just begun to understand what they were like seeing them interact in the wild. 

“I can play mediator,” you said, “Say what you need to say to each other.”

Mingi squeezed your arm, then stepped over to the back of the couch. Lips parting in shock you watched him extend a hand toward him. “Are we good?”

Yunho glanced at his fingers, up at his friend, then back to his hand that he grabbed and shook. “Yeah, we’re good.”

“You talked to my girl?” Mingi questioned, and Yunho answered with an eye roll.

“About you,” he mumbled.

Mingi tilted his head. “And Rora.”

Yunho moved onto his knees to look at you from around Mingi’s frame, both of his hands latching the cushions. “So we’re telling people.”

Throwing a hand toward Mingi, you scoffed. “He’s my boyfriend!” The boys shared another look, then they both started to smile. “I don’t get it,” you huffed, whirling around for the fridge. Their heads followed you in unison. “Are we good? Yeah, yeah? And you guys are fine?” Pulling out a bottle of water you cracked it open and faced the island, grilling them with your brows. 

Mingi and Yunho looked at one another, then they looked at you, and at the same time they said, “Yeah.”

“Unbelievable,” you muttered, taking another swig of water. 

“You gotta keep that shit to yourself,” Yunho said, focusing up on Mingi who bobbed his head. “She was the only one who knew, and now you, so, please, keep it to yourself. I’m already in deep shit as it is.”

His best friend slapped a hand to his shoulder and shook him around. “I got you.” And you and Yunho both knew that he meant it.

Footsteps sounded up on the second floor, your ears perking up as a voice shouted, “Why does it sound like there’s scum in my house?”

Wooyoung. 

The three of you cringed. You swore Yunho’s cheeks drained of all color.

He appeared at the bottom of the stairs in sweatpants and an unzipped hoodie with nothing beneath it. Scanning the room, he managed to read everyone in seconds, ending with Yunho. You and Mingi held your breath. The corners of his lips wanted to pull into a smile, but his piercing eyes said elsewise.

“Oh,” he sighed, then shifted his gaze over to you. “Probably because there’s scum in my house.” Strutting by you, heading for the fridge, you pulled a face, one Mingi told you to get rid of with a wave of his hand, but you couldn’t help yourself.

Turning toward him, you leaned up against the counter. “It’s not your house.” Voice level, completely serious, Wooyoung faced you with the same amount of surety. He twisted open his water and took a sip, letting his lips poke out between his lips. Golden skin on display, perfectly curved nose framed by his messy waves, you didn’t look elsewhere, you made sure of it. 

“It could be with the click of two buttons,” he said, and your hands tightened around your plastic bottle. “It’s not mine, but isn’t it one you’d want to keep your best friend safe in?”

Your heart skipped a beat. “What the fuck do you mean by that?”

Wooyoung threw a hand toward Yunho. “Bringing him in here, having him-”

You closed the space between you, going nearly nose to nose. “No, what the fuck do you mean by that, Wooyoung?”

“Tori,” he sighed, both of his hands coming up to keep you at a distance from him.

“Are you saying I should’ve stopped her last night? Should’ve kept her away from you? Away from San?” Mingi rounded the island at some point, one of his arms around your shoulders, pulling you back from the boy's face.

Yunho shifted on the couch, his eyes sharp. “What happened last night?”

“Nothing happened last night,” Wooyoung spat, and you laughed aloud, the sound echoing up towards and past the third floor. 

“Bullshit,” you shouted. “Those were a bold choice of words to use, Wooyoung, what the fuck?”

Capping his water, he shook his head and moved about the kitchen, looking for something to eat. “Not what I meant Tori, and you know it,” he grumbled, turning back around with two big bags of half eaten chips, glancing toward the stairs as Seonghwa stepped off the bottom one. “What happened last night we planned weeks ago,” he said to you, punctuating his sentence with a grimace, replicating the one he gave you yesterday morning, almost in this exact spot. 

Yunho gripped the cushions, his eyes not having left Wooyoung since he came downstairs. Almost like he was the next best thing to Aurora herself. “What happened last night,” he repeated in a whisper so hushed you’re certain no one else heard it.

“Hey, bro,” Seonghwa took a lap around the couch to shove Yunho’s head and ruffle his hair. “What the hell are you doing here?” he asked with a laugh, taking in the energy of the room, you in Mingi’s grasp, Wooyoung now in his own world. Yunho gave him a look that said if only you knew. “Oh boy,” he snickered, passing by you and Mingi, “You guys are friends again?” Wooyoung lifted his eyes, him and Mingi making eye contact for the tiniest of seconds.

“We’re cool,” your boyfriend said, his voice vibrating in his chest against your back. 

“Cool,” Seonghwa situated himself with a snack at the counter and exchanged something with Yunho, “Don’t get comfy.”

The boy on the couch frowned, his shoulders slumping. “Why?” he asked quietly.

Footsteps sounded from the floor above. 

Seonghwa pointed toward them. 

“Who runs this house?” Yunho shook his head. “I feel like I’m at school.”

Wooyoung groaned. “Don’t group me in with that shit.” 

Shifting in Mingi’s arms to face the stairs and Seonghwa, you nudged his ankle with a toe and he graced you with his attention. “Did he not stay over?”

“Who? H?” Curling his brow, you answered with a nod and he relaxed. “Nah, he left with Yeosang and Keni.” 

Pouting your lips, you asked, “Why?”

He shrugged. “‘Cause I wanted him to.” Smirking at your confusion, he turned his attention to the stairs, leaving you with a thousand unanswered questions. 

Wobbling beneath San’s arm, one of her own wrapped around the back of his bare torso, Aurora had her head laid on his shoulder. Her hair was a mess, the strands thrown up on top of her head in a tie, like she’d fallen asleep like that. Clearly unshowered, makeup stained her face, beneath her eyes, the bronzer on her cheeks streaky from obvious tears. Your stomach lurched. She shouldn’t be down here. Your Aurora wouldn’t want to be down here, not like this. 

Slipping from Mingi’s arms you left him beside Seonghwa, the boys falling into conversation of their own, Wooyoung included. Yunho sat on the couch, eyes locked on Aurora, brows confused, body equally ready to jump up to aid her even though he knows he can’t.

She was clothed, that much had been done. She wore more than the boys in the kitchen combined. 

“Hi,” you said, voice hushed, cutting off whatever she and San were whispering about. They came to a pause before stepping fully into the kitchen. Everyone had seen her, and she didn’t even know it. Lifting her head, blinking her smudged eyes toward you, you accepted the dirty look. You weren’t sober friends yet, you knew this, she didn’t. “Come upstairs with me.”

“Why would I do that?” She reeked of vodka. Of straight liquor. She might even still be drunk. Her body dipped into San’s more than it already had been. “San was gonna make me breakfast, I’m starving,” she whined, her eyebrows flipping over. Something else lived behind her eyes, something you’ve never seen in your years of knowing her.

“I got her,” San beguiled, but it fell flat. For the first time, his light smile and lusty eyes didn’t make you blush. He tried to move past you, through you, but you held out a hand, placing it to his shoulder. “Tor, she wants to eat.”

Aurora gulped, one you felt. She looked up, the emptiness within her reaching for you, like all feelings of stupid bullshit that shouldn’t have even mattered in the first place had been washed away. Without her even saying a word, she pleaded, begged you to take her elsewhere.

“Yeah,” you breathed, slipping an arm around her back, swiftly pulling her out of San’s, “Let’s go.” 

“Tori,” she whispered to you, her voice cracking, tears welling in her eyes. Letting her entire weight go into you, you held onto her and started for the stairs.

“I know,” you whispered back to her with a reassuring squeeze, “I got you.” 

“Wait,” she whispered, stopping you with what strength she had to turn around in your arms.

“Ror, let’s just-” “No,” she said, cutting you off, her eyes flickering around the kitchen at every face. It was evident when she found Yunho, though she tried to keep it on lock, she couldn’t help the way her fingers tightened around you. “Where’s Soul?”

“Hm?” you questioned, keeping your focus over her. 

Seonghwa overheard. “Is he not in his room?” Wooyoung stepped around the boys munching, brows furrowed over his pointed eyes.

Aurora shook her head. “I checked when I came down, he’s not… Fuck.” Her fingers tightened tenfold. “We told him not to leave.” She looked from Seonghwa, to Wooyoung, back to Seonghwa. “I told you guys, don’t let him leave.”

Seonghwa held his arms out. “We know that.”

“I said it last night,” she shook her head. “I swear, I was saying it all night, since his little friends showed up.” A chill ran down your spine. Seonghwa glanced at you. “Don’t let him leave.”

Meeting eyes with Yunho, both of you equally flabbergasted, you stifled a nervous laugh as he rose from the couch without making a sound and slipped into his shoes. 

“I’m sure he’s at Jongseob’s,” you muttered, pulling Aurora toward the stairs, but she dug her feet into the hardwood. 

“No, no, no,” she gasped, eyes shooting open wide as she reached for Wooyoung, “You have to go. Now.” Seonghwa leapt into action first, whizzing by you and Aurora in nothing but a pair of shorts, flying toward the front door with Wooyoung right behind him. “Oh my god,” Aurora whined, tipping forward into your chest, her tears falling. “Theo’s gonna kill me.” 

Maneuvering Aurora up three flights of stairs when her muscles could barely hold herself up was a trip, but you managed. Skipping over her bedroom on the third floor not wanting to find out what was behind the closed door, you opted for your own room, helping her over the opened suitcases on the floor and stray clothes thrown about. Pushing open the bathroom door with one hand, you moved her inside and she dropped to her knees in front of the toilet, white knuckling the ceramic.

Groaning the whole way up, your littles whispers of encouragement keeping her moving, she finally grumbled, “I don’t feel good.” And then she repeated herself, pushing wisps of hair off her forehead before the hand slapped back to the toilet.

Standing behind her, her waist wedged between your ankles, you pulled out the elastic completely tangled in her hair, and pulled it up nicer, more tidy, out of her face. 

“You’re gonna be okay,” you spoke quietly to her, you knew her head was pounding, and she most definitely was still drunk. With one hand on her back to comfort her as she made herself sick, you turned the shower on to the hottest that it would go. Still wedged between your legs, you rolled toilet paper onto your hand and bent down to wipe her face, pulling her back some to flush the toilet, tossing the tissue in as you did. 

“I’m sorry I’ve been mad at you,” she muttered, her eyes squeezed shut as she tipped her head up like she wanted to look at you. 

Leaning backward to pull a cotton pad from one of your bags, you doused it in micellar water and bent down again to wipe the makeup off of her face. “You don’t have to apologize to me. I’ve equally been a bitch.” You threw the soiled cotton pad into the toilet and reached for another, the first one completely black. 

“We’ve both been bitches,” she said, rocking with every one of your wipes, pulling across her skin, letting you move her around. “Why?” Her eyes opened. You paused. Looking at her upside down, not the first time you’ve seen her like this, you took a deep breath.

“You know maybe you should stop drinking, too,” you said, and she started to laugh, one short and half amused.

“Don’t ignore my question, Tori,” she almost slurred, tossing a hand up to pat your cheek. “Talk to me. Tell me things.”

“Like, things you told me last night?”

She dropped her hand and opened her eyes, her smile wiping away. With one more swoop under her eyes now that you could get to it, you tossed the cotton pad in the toilet and sighed. 

“What did I tell you last night?” Her whisper shook. 

Glancing into the mirror in front of you, the glass foggy and the air in the bathroom growing thick, you shook your head. “Nothing, come on, get in there, sweat this out. Shower it off of you. I know you feel gross.” You reached for the hem of her shirt and she snatched it away from you. The emptiness in her eyes came back.

“I feel gross,” she barely whispered. Twisting on the floor between your legs she looked up at you and her lip quivered. “We…”

Dropping to your knees, you shook your head really fast and she stopped. You wrapped your arms around her and pulled her into a hug, holding her tight. 

“Tori,” she whispered after a minute of quiet tears on your shoulder. Pulling back from her a bit you wiped one of her cheeks and nodded. “They didn’t do anything wrong.”

Swallowing hard, clenching your jaw, you nodded again, muttering a quiet, “I know.” 

Her lip crinkled, and a tear fell down her cheek. “Then why do I feel like this?” 

Because you shouldn’t be dealing with them.

Because you should be with the one who may or may not still be on the couch downstairs.

Your so-called soulmate.

You opted for, “I don’t know, but I’m here. You’re tired. You need a shower. Some water, too. Let me step out so you can get in there.”

Her hands clutched onto you, not letting you move an inch. “No,” she whispered. “Stay in here.” Nodding your agreeance, you sat atop the closed toilet after helping her into the shower. “Can you tell me what I said to you last night?” 

Eyes widening, you clasped your arms around your knees and took a deep breath. “You sure about that?”

“Please,” she said from behind the glass. 

“Okay,” you started. “But, you said this, not me.”

“Can we get another round?” Aurora asked the bartender in a black leather bodysuit behind the bar. The man with spiky blonde hair and skinny shoulders nodded once with his pursed, glossed lips, and he hurried off to fetch the tiny glasses while attending to his other guests at the bar. Yanking at the hem of her shorts, Aurora adjusted herself on the stool made of silver metal and twisted on it to face you.

Elbow on the edge of the bar that reflected the flash of the neon lights, you watched her with half of a frown. “We could be done after this,” you said, and she laughed.

“Come on, Tor,” she reached over to you to adjust the edge of your tank with beads that glowed like a beacon within the dark walls of Wave, “It’s our night, I don’t wanna think about anything else.” Spiky blonde hair with neon green nails slid a few shot glasses towards you two before sauntering away to the other end of the bar. Aurora picked her two up and knocked them back with ease.

It’d been a few hours since you helped her get dressed, the two of you moving about her mess of a bedroom in complete silence after you’d dropped the bomb of her drunken confession. Not that it was confession material, but it certainly was bomb material. She’d been keeping it in since the end of the school year. You vowed not to tell a soul, and that you would let her and help her unpack it more when she felt ready to do so. 

Side by side down two flights of stairs, you kept an eye on her as she wandered the kitchen, the room having cleared of all boys aside from your own, making sure she hydrated and found something to eat. You had slid into Mingi’s arms in the living room for all of five seconds, popping a quick kiss on his lips, flashing him the tiniest smile of admiration. Appreciation. Your rock.

Aurora said the words herself. You had a good one, your soulmate. With Mingi, his loyalty was never a question. His devotion to you, something that would never have you lying awake at night doubting. What you see is what you get, nothing more. His ability to be one thing, so consistent, a quality that bothered you for months, and for what?

This morning you watched your best friend trudge down the stairs in another man's arms while her supposed man didn’t seem to care. In fact, you didn’t see them speak until an hour or so before you pulled her out the door, dragging her here to Wave on your own, out of the house, away from men. Her and Wooyoung, they spoke quietly, whispers, though Aurora couldn’t hide shit and gave away what they were discussing by throwing out a hand in the direction of Jongseob’s house.

Soul. The quiet little thing that you allowed to stay beneath your roof for the month.

Don’t let him leave!

She was talking about Soul. Not Yunho.

That weird protection thing, it was done for a reason. One no one let you in on.

“Did they end up finding Soul?” you asked, taking a shot at the same time.

Aurora swung her head side to side, tipsy already. Hair that hung naturally over her shoulder flipped backward as she flashed you her raised eyebrows. “No,” she whispered, then giggled. Squeezing her eyes shut she pressed her fingers to her forehead and groaned. “He won’t pick up his phone either.”

“He’s with his friends,” you said, and she dropped her hands into her lap. “He’ll be fine, he’ll come back.”

Aurora laughed, once. “Yeah, or he’s on a boat in the middle of the ocean, or on a plane on his way across the world, or in the back of someone’s van sipping on wine coolers.” 

You laid your arm across the bar, reaching for your second shot. Eyeing her, you asked, “Ror, were you really babysitting him?” The breath she released told you plenty, yet not enough. “He’s a big kid. He can take care of himself.”

“No, he can’t,” she scoffed, shooting you a tight lipped smile. Sliding her hands down to her knees, she squeezed them and glanced out at the crowded room. Colors flashing like mad, people’s clothes, their bathing suits glowing in the blacklight, keeping expressions hidden, she closed her eyes again before focusing back on you. “He believes everything people tell him. Seonghwa fucks with him all the time to teach him not to, but…”

“He trusts too easily,” you shrugged, and the way her smile faltered rendered you uneasy.

“He doesn’t work like everyone else, Tor, let’s just say that,” she sighed, taking the shot from your hand, downing it herself. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she said, “It gets him taken advantage of. Those friends of his?” Her face distorted. “They use him, ‘cause they know he won’t say no. He wants to keep his friends, he trusts his friends, so when they ask him to do something that’s not right, or that’ll get him into some massive shit, he’s gonna do it.” 

“That sounds like a Soul problem, Ror,” you said quietly, animosity unknown to your tone. “It’s not your responsibility to fix him, or babysit him.”

She slid the glass against the bar and it took off, bumping the edge, tipping over the other side onto the floor with a crash. Pressing her lips together, she jumped off her stool like you did. “Oh shit,” she giggled, sparing you a glance. The tiny little bartender hurried over and shooed your worry away.

“Happens all the time,” he said, kicking broken pieces of glass with his foot before someone else swooped in with a broom. “You girls want more?” He propped a hand on his hip, over his leather, and shifted his weight to the side while his coworker cleaned up Aurora’s mess.

“Ye-”

“No, we’re good,” you said with a smile, grabbing onto her wrist. “We’ll be back, you can keep the tab open.” 

“I wanted another shot,” she whined, stumbling over her feet behind you as you dragged her to the mass of bodies dancing in the middle of the room. Luckily the lights flashing and the glow of the clothes people wore distracted her. “God damn, this place is cool. Soul was right.”

“Let’s dance,” you said, taking hold of her wrists. “Ror and Tor,” you offered, and she smiled, and for the first time since you’ve arrived in Haos you saw a peek of your best friend behind the facade of all she was becoming.

“Ror and Tor,” she parroted, letting the music take control.

All thoughts of Soul dissipated. Though you were beginning to understand why things were the way they were with him, it wasn’t fair to Aurora to carry this strange responsibility of caring for him. Both her and Wooyoung, it seemed, even Seonghwa. The three of them hovering over him like some sort of parent. How much trouble could one person get into? How bad was bad?

Minutes stretched beneath the lights, within the hot, sweaty air of Wave. In the midst of the crowd of bodies moving to the music, you and Aurora holding onto one another somehow, your smiles never breaking, you let the energy swallow you. Hips swaying, hands in the air, spinning in circles gripping to each other's wrists, dancing to music you half recognized, everyone beneath the lights moved just the same. In their own world, not a care if you bumped into them, and when you did, they’d invite you into their circle. Strangers taking you and Aurora into their arms, laughing together, singing along to the rhythm pouring out the speakers. 

Careful and sober enough to not let her get swept away by strangers she danced on, you didn’t bother pulling her away from a twenty something year old, shirtless with hair dark, short and spiked. With one eye on her you gave your attention to the two girls standing with him, both in swimsuits that rendered electric under the blacklights. 

“This is cute,” the one with long, straight hair reached over to you, tugging at the hem of your tank top embellished with beads, “Where’d you get it?”

Leaning into her, smiling at her friend with a messy pixie cut, you shouted over the music, “My boyfriend bought it for me last summer. Vintage Louis Vuitton.” 

Pixie cut gasped, stepping closer to you, putting her hands on the soft fabric that hung off your frame loosely and flashed a bit of your tanned midriff. “This is money.”

“It is,” you grinned, letting them fawn over you. “They don’t make it anymore, so he had to fight to find it. Some collector up in Iloa had it.”

“Iloa,” the girl with long, straight hair scoffed, looking up at you. “You from there?”

“Tamoe,” you corrected nicely, “But, we’ll take weekends there all the time. One of our good friends plays for the Lions.” Pixie cut gave her friend a look, her fingers still playing with your tank.

Long, straight hair side eyed her. “So, you guys are rich, rich.”

With a breath, you rolled your eyes. Stomach taking a tumble, never sure how to handle this kind of conversation, you mustered up, “Just… taken care of.” 

“I’m sure.” Long, straight hair shifted her stare into something that furthered the weight in your gut.

“My boyfriend never buys me cute things,” pixie cut pouted.

Forcing a smile back onto your face, you asked, “Boyfriend, is he here?”

She tilted her head. “Your friend’s grinding on him.”

“Oh my god,” you sighed, cheeks flushing of color. “I’m so sorry.”

Whirling around to grab onto Aurora’s shoulders, you heard her say, “It’s fine, we like it.”

“What!” Aurora shouted, falling backward into your arms. 

Whisking her away, leaving the group behind and the boy dumbfounded, you mumbled, “You know how to find ‘em.” 

“Who!?”

“The freaks.”

Getting her on a bar stool, listening to her laugh, one high pitched and breathless, you pulled your phone from your pocket and flopped onto one beside her. Checking your messages for the first time tonight, you had missed two, both sent within the last two hours. One from your dad, and another from ITZ. Tapping on your dads thread, the corners of your lips perked up.

[best dad ever<3]: Hope you’re enjoying your vacation! Your mom and I are headed up to Iloa with Sitara, she’s filming interviews for her new movie… You’ll be home in time for the premiere. She got you and Mingi tickets. She hopes to see you there. I added $$ into your account. Send us pictures!

Money, right. Rich, rich. Typing back to him after adding a heart to the message, you gave him endless thanks without mentioning a word about attending your sister's movie premiere. You’d discuss further with Mingi. The last one didn’t quite go to plan. Sure it was smaller than this one would be, she didn’t have as big of a role like she did this time around, so tickets were limited. At least that was her excuse. You had to attend without Mingi, just you and your parents, shortly after Sitara’s horrific breakup with her co-star you begged her to not get involved with.

Two tickets for you and Mingi. Surely your parents doing. Your fathers doing. He had your back as much as he could have when it came to your mother and Sitara, the two of them always in cahoots, running the show, ordering him around. Whenever he did things for you it happened in secret.

Aurora tipped her head backward and stared at the ceiling, twisting her chin side to side. “Trippy,” she sang, then fell back into a fit of breathless, high pitched giggles. You spared her a glance, your brows furrowed, then opened the message from ITZ.

[ITZ]: miss me?

[you]: not at all.

To your surprise, he responded instantly. 

[ITZ]: are things better with the boyfriend

[you]: yes actually, we’re great.

[ITZ]: wow. so u told him abt me ;)

[you]: no, why would i do that.

He didn’t answer. Staring at the screen for about a minute, swiping at the messages, waiting for another, you groaned and slapped your phone to the bar, twisting to face it. Resting your elbows on the edge, you looked over at Aurora half bent over on the stool, still laughing.

“Ror, what’s the matter?” you asked. When she sat up, her face split with a grin, she almost toppled backward. Pushing her up, keeping one hand on a shoulder, you used the other to grab onto her chin. “Ror?” Turning her, forcefully because she tried to fight you, still laughing, one glimpse in her eyes and your stomach sunk. “What the fuck?” Pupils blown open, cheeks warm and getting warmer, you knew her skin was buzzing.

“You’re so pretty,” she said, voice sweet. 

“What did you do?” you asked, voice stern.

She blinked, slow, and started to laugh again. “That guy gave it to me.”

“Gave you what,” you grit your teeth. She shrugged, growing more and more limp in your grasp. In these minutes she reverted back into someone you didn’t recognize. Swallowing hard, clenching your jaw, you spoke words you wished to never speak again. “Aurora, what would your dad say?”

A topic never discussed unless she brought it up first.

Within her, whatever part that still listened, was still conscious, it wanted to scream. Hearing those words, knowing what that threat did to her, she wanted to yell, she wanted to lay you out on the floor with figurative fists made of words laced with venom, but she was high, so she couldn’t. You wanted her to do it, you wanted her to yell, to get mad, to move with the passion you know consumed her, but she couldn’t. Restraints in more ways than one prevented it.

“I’m fine,” she said after a breath, sitting herself up. Pulling you off of her, actually moving your hands, she twisted herself around and leaned against the bar. Standing beside her, holding up her weight, you huffed a laugh and shook your head,

“No, you’re not,” you grumbled, looking out onto the dance floor, at the masses of people, letting her order another drink from the tiny bartender. 

You should take her home, but that meant lugging her into a house of men, one of which lived on your shitlist at the moment. She probably didn’t want to be near him right now anyway, and in this state, it’d do them no good. It played out in your head, Wooyoung reprimanding her, therapizing her. Though after what they’ve done they should talk about it, he should listen to her feelings, even if you weren’t sure how she really felt about it all, or the reason behind why she was living how she’d been living…

Chestnut brown hair poked out from the half naked bodies, half naked himself. In tiny shorts and a cut off tank, Yeosang weaved through people with Keni attached to his hand, both wearing smiles that grew once they found you. 

“Mingi said you were here,” he said, throwing an arm around your back to hug you. Keni gave you a quiet hi, keeping herself snug against her boyfriend's arm.

Returning her hi, you looked up at Yeosang and pursed your lips. “We were having fun,” you said with a subtle eye roll. 

“What happened?” he asked, brows flattening over his round eyes that narrowed. The birthmark on his cheek winked at you. Grabbing Aurora by the hair, you gently pulled her back against your chest. Gripping her drink that she sipped through the straw, she blinked up at Yeosang and Keni and gasped, nearly choking on her drink. Yeosang studied her face. “She’s high,” his doctor's brain came to a conclusion way faster than yours was able to register her state.

“A stranger gave her drugs.” Aurora looked up at you, upside down, her head pushing into your heart. She giggled. “Not funny,” you spat, and she laughed harder.

Yeosang touched her cheek and softly tugged under one of her eyes with the tip of his thumb. Curling his lip, he shrugged and took his hand back. “She’s on molly. It’ll wear off in a few hours.” 

“You’re sure?” Flashing him widened eyes, he reassured your worries with a definite head nod. “What are we gonna do without you?” 

Keni let out a laugh, one she shared with Yeosang as he looked down at her.

“I’ll be a phone call away,” he said to you before focusing on his girlfriend, “Want a drink?” he asked, ushering her onto a stool on the other side of Aurora.

“Always,” Keni smized, sliding her hand down his muscley arm to link their fingers together. He stood behind her, his other arm wrapping around her front, resting his chin on top of her head. 

Sparing you another glance, he said, “Get her a water instead of whatever she’s drinking.” 

“Right,” you breathed, and followed his directions, letting the couple go back to themselves. Positioning her upright, Aurora reached for your phone and tapped at it, head wobbling to either side as she attempted to hum along to the music thumping. “You’ll finish this,” you said to her, bringing the fresh glass closer to her after the bartender dropped it off, “And then, we’re leaving.” She grabbed the glass and brought it to her lips. After one sip and a lick of her lips, she started to chug the rest.

“I lost you guys!” A laugh followed the words, one that made Aurora lurch and cough, the glass rattling on the bar as she let go of it. Whipping your head to the right, worst case scenario manifested before your eyes. 

“Yunho.”

His smile vanished, looking from Yeosang, to you, to Aurora. “Tori.” Shaking his head, he focused his eyes on Yeosang. “I was- I got stuck over- Where there…” Squeezing his eyes shut, he scrunched his entire face up. Keni laughed at him. 

Aurora used both hands on the bar to turn herself around to face you, her back to Yunho and the couple. She blinked up at you, then sloppily thrusted your phone toward you. Brows pointed, eyes dreary, staring at the beads on your tank, she said all too loud, “Who’s ITZ?”

Only Yeosang turned his head. Yunho ordered a beer from the boy much smaller than him.

“I don’t… I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said, trying to keep your words between you two, and you two only.

She cinched her brows. “ITZ, in your phone,” she said. Tipping her chin up to look at you, she almost fell backward, Keni had to take an arm to her back to maneuver her back up. 

Now Yunho paid attention.

“Ror,” you half laughed, resting an arm on her shoulder, both to comfort her and support her, “It’s nothing, let’s just go, okay?”

She blinked, moving her head around, as if she tried to shake it. “Is there a group chat behind my back?” The words came out slowly, a little slurred. 

“No, Ror,” you shifted around to catch her eyes that focused elsewhere. “There’s no-”

“Why are you texting ITZ?” she asked, voice cracking. Giving you her flipped brows, her eyes welling with tears, you took your hands to her cheeks and shook your head. “I don’t know about it, and you’re texting ITZ, for a long time, I scrolled, Tori, what is that? Who?”

“Nothing, it’s nothing,” you pleaded with her, brushing your thumbs under her eyes. “Aurora, I swear to you, it has nothing to do with ITZ.” 

She was high. She was drunk. Intoxicated. She wouldn’t remember this. Deal with the drama now, let her forget about it tomorrow. You’d change the name in your phone, it’d be as if it never happened.

Why was naming the stranger ITZ a good idea?!

“What if you’re lying?” she whispered, gripping onto the fabric of your tank. Yanking you closer, she stared at you.

“I’m not lying.”

“But, what if you are?” Her eyes narrowed. “You aren’t supposed to lie to me. We don’t lie. Who is ITZ?”

Pulling your lips into a line, your eyes begging hers, you could only shrug.

A laugh left her, one wicked enough to turn a few heads. Tears spilled over onto her cheeks as she threw her hands away, not enough strength to push you, or move you at all. 

Yunho’s focus followed her, every move she made. Attempting to keep her where she sat, she apparently did have enough strength to dodge you, but she tripped and stumbled when she tried to stand up. Both you and Yunho moved, hands out to catch her, and he won. She ragdolled over his arm, and he managed to get her back on her feet. With one arm. Lips parted, eyes scared, his breath caught in his chest as she held onto him, you could see it. Her fingers dug into his cream colored skin, his arms bare in the cut off shirt he wore, a grey one with Nasara faded on the front of it, half of the N and half of the A cut off. 

You were frozen, stuck in place, forced to watch it all happen. 

Aurora wobbled on her feet, her world spinning all over again when she glanced up at him. Rearing backward, he cringed and wrapped his other arm around her back. Their gazes were locked, Yunho’s afraid, Aurora’s tear stained and unreadable. 

It felt like ages they stood here, staring, blinking into nothing, like they were looking at each other for the very first time. Yeosang and Keni paid no mind, the two had cozied in on themselves, keeping the three of you out of mind for the time being. You hated to be the one to break things up, to interrupt, but Aurora had been sick all day, and now that she was full of a multitude of substances, this night wasn’t going to end prettily. 

Stepping up behind her, hands hovering over her back, you spoke to Yunho whose face had softened in a way that it used to, in a way you never picked up on before you knew anything about them. 

“We have to leave,” you said, hushed. Aurora didn’t move, there was still a few inches of space between them where she was wrapped in his arms. 

Yunho gulped. “She can’t walk out of here.”

“Can you… help me?” you asked, feeling sorry that the words even came out of you.

Shooting you a crazed look, he gulped again. “Tori,” he said from behind his teeth, “She is half conscious, in my arms, and you want me to help you get her out of here?”

Fighting away your smile and the excitement that bubbled within you, you sighed and nodded. “Yes, please.”

“And, what if someone sees us?”

“You mean Wooyoung,” you said, and his shock swirled into a glare. A laugh came out of you, and he squinted. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you nearly whined, letting your hands touch Aurora’s shoulders. “I just…” Intaking a breath, you gave her the smallest, most gentle nudge, and she fell into him, her arms of rubber grabbing onto his shirt, part of his exposed chest. 

A gasp ripped through him, but his arm settled around her, Aurora fitting perfectly within his biceps. “Tori,” he sneered, but the nasty look didn’t last long, not when Aurora melted into him, her fingers curling around the grey fabric, a long deep breath taking over her as her eyes fluttered shut.

He hadn’t said one word to her.

He wasn’t allowed to.

She hadn’t spoken to him yet.

He could sense it before you even said anything.

“Aurora, did you say hi?” you questioned in a tone dripping with honey so sweet his face went sour. 

“What are you doing?” he whispered all too harshly. You answered with a smirk, there was no time to say anything, Aurora was already looking up at him.

It took him a second to meet her gaze, and when he did, she mumbled, “Hi,” so quietly you couldn’t even hear it. You only knew she said it because of the breath that fell from his lips. 

“Hi,” he whispered. A word incredibly precious. A word finally spoken after months. 

They went back to staring at each other, it made you wonder if this was what they did with each other. Weird. Yet, fitting.

“Wait,” Aurora said, some power behind her tone. Pressing her hands into his chest, she tried to move him, but Yunho was a brick wall. You moved to their side.

“Ror, we need to leave,” you said to her. “We’re gonna go home.”

“No,” she scoffed, looking at you through hooded eyes. “I wan’ stay, I don’t,” she paused. She swallowed. “I don’t wanna leave.” Her eyes opened a bit more, and you cocked your head to the side knowing exactly what was about to come out of her mouth. She swallowed again. Even Yunho knew what was coming. “I don’ feel good.”

“That’s why we’re leaving,” you said, shifting your eyes over to Yunho who questioned you with a brow. “Help me, please. I can’t carry her out of here.”

He let out a laugh, one full of some sort of pain. “You want me to carry her?”

Gesturing to her with your shoulder, you said, “Ask her if it’s okay.” That crazed look found his face once more, and you yourself almost couldn’t believe what you were doing to them. You couldn’t help it, they were ridiculous, and you didn’t want her in her current relationship any longer than she has been.

Yunho took a breath. “Rory,” he said, nerves in every word. “Can I help Tori take you home?”

Still confused, knowing what she was doing wasn’t right, or that it didn’t feel right, at least not yet, she looked from his shirt, her fingers pressing into his partial bare skin, up to his face, and she hummed some sort of agreeance you could barely hear. Yunho nodded his head, then bent his knees, meeting her on her level. Their eyes met, and he said something to her, and she listened. His hands slid down her back, and gripped her thighs, hoisting her onto his front. Standing up straight, he shifted her effortlessly, letting her wrap her arms around his neck, her cheek pressing to his hair. Her legs hung loosely around his waist, his arms and hands keeping her in place over his chest. 

He gave you a look, one that made you flash him an innocent smile. As much pain as this brought him, his lashes and the pink tint in his cheeks thanked you.

She wouldn’t remember this.

Besides it was for her own safety, something her dear boyfriend seemed so worried about this morning.

She wouldn’t remember this, and she didn’t have to.

read it on ao3 | talk to me | my masterlist

you do not have permission to copy or translate my works without my consent.

[goldenroutledge]

serendipity

pairing: daniel ricciardo x fem!reader

word count: 2.0k

prompt: ❛ i'm telling you all of a sudden, but it isn't new with me. i love you. ❜

summary: fluff. in which daniel doesn’t bother to hide his feelings anymore.

a/n: for the lovely @katsu28! thank you so much for requesting <3

masterlist || be my valentine blurb event 💌

“If you don’t mind me saying, you two make a beautiful couple!” An older woman stops in her tracks to do a double take of you and Daniel dressed to the nines, blending in with the rest of the wedding guests decorated in black tie. Maybe it was the way you brushed a few bread crumbs from his beard or the way he draped his arm around the back of your chair during the meal that made you two appear like any other couple in the room.

“Us?” You question, looking around just to be sure her comment is directed towards you. Then again, it wouldn’t be the first time someone made this mistake. “We’re not-”

“Why, thank you!” Daniel interrupts, giddy as ever as he raises his glass. “She is quite the beauty, isn’t she? Makes up for the two of us, I’d say.” Your heart flutters under his gaze, one that’s convincingly lovestruck. He gently squeezes your waist to drive it home, pulling you close.

“Oh, stop it. I don’t think anyone can look bad in Venice, must be something in the water.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, darling.” Daniel muses, turning his attention back to the woman as she smiles fondly. “So humble, this one.”

“You’ll have to excuse him, he’s still suffering from some whiplash and needs his eyes checked.”

“Please, my eyes have never deceived me when it comes to you. You’re stunning.” His tone is sincere, and if you didn’t know he was putting on a charade, you’d believe him. Still, your cheeks are growing undeniably warm, regardless if he actually means it or not. Daniel’s always been a flirt.

“Just trying to keep up with you.”

“Maybe you two will be next.” The woman wonders out loud, a playful glint in her eyes as she winks at Daniel, leaving the two of you to enjoy the reception. He doesn’t miss a beat, feeling no need to acknowledge what just happened.

You, however, can’t brush this one under the rug. “What was that about?”

“What was what about?” Daniel questions, playing clueless.

“Either I hit my head earlier or you just told that lady we’re a couple. You do realize you just lied to an old lady right?”

“I prefer the term method acting.” Daniel quips, all the more amused at your very unamused expression. “Come on, two great looking people together at a wedding? My jacket matches your dress? We’re not exactly avoiding the assumptions.”

“And that was purely coincidence, might I remind you.”

Daniel rolls his eyes playfully at your recollection of the morning. The look on your face when you first realized the matching colors was priceless. It won’t be the last stunt he pulls off, for now he’ll let you believe it really was a coincidence. “Oh please, you love it.”

You shrug, indifferent to what he’s insinuating. At least that’s what you hope he receives from it. Internally you wince every time you have to shut down his relentless positivity with another cold shoulder. “Your performance was convincing, I’ll give you that.”

“Just don’t wanna let anyone down. She’s not the first person to say something y’know, we might as well just accept our fate now.”

You avoid his eyes, finding the drink in your glass to be the safer of the two options. Whenever you do lock eyes with him, you can’t be held responsible for what you might say. Confronting the spark between you two has weighed on your mind, and heart, for more sleepless nights than you care to admit. Here and now, at your friend’s wedding, certainly isn’t the time to start.

–

The night stretches on and the mood is much lighter. Tears of joy for the happy couple have already been shed and the celebration was ongoing well into the night. Dinner was everything you expected it to be, each course more perfect than the last.

Daniel had been asked to give a toast in the upcoming weeks of the grand event. Not that he was the smoothest speaker to ever hold a microphone, but his humor was undeniably perfect for every crowd and setting.

He was rarely at a loss for words. For this speech in particular, when he tried to picture the moment and sit with his thoughts, he realized he had none. It may have been the first time he was truly out of his league. Ask him to write a speech about racing and the intensity that comes with it? No problem. Writing about love, in its truest and most passionate form? That poses a greater challenge.

Scribbled on the notecards tucked away in his suit jacket are a few quotes from philosophers or books he’s read, hoping one will inspire some profound words.

When the microphone finds him, Daniel takes one good look at you smiling back at him, and drops the cards on the table. A rush of confidence flows through his veins, telling him that he may not be so hopeless after all. He takes a deep breath and greets the room.

“I’ll be honest, when the bride and groom asked me to give a speech on their big day, my immediate response was ‘Are you sure’?” Light laughter falls over the crowd, putting him at ease.

“I’m no expert, but when I think about why we fall in love, the answer is simple. We fall in love when the idea of spending the rest of our days alone with someone feels more like paradise instead of a punishment; when we wake up and fall asleep to the thought of them, and happily let them run through our mind every hour in between.”

Everyone in the crowd lovingly gazes at their person. Daniel notices that your eyes have remained fixed on him this whole time. He feels himself blushing, and smiling at you before continuing.

“The way I see it, falling in love is this feeling of unwavering commitment, of being unwilling to give up on someone no matter how much they beg you to. It’s knowing that even if your love is never reciprocated, you’d still feel like the luckiest person on planet Earth, knowing they hold a place in your heart no one else ever could. Loving somebody, to me, means accepting that you couldn’t un-love them even if you tried.”

Daniel catches your eyes and they sparkle, whispering everything you wish to say back to him. A pause lingers over the crowd. You wonder if anyone else can hear your heart beating out of your chest. Under Daniel’s gaze, it feels as though you’re the only two left in the room.

He turns towards the bride and groom once again to end his remarks. “It’s for all those reasons that we’re here celebrating today. My deepest congratulations to the happy couple, may your love story never end.” Daniel raises his glass of champagne and everyone else follows suit, cheering loudly.

The bride and groom beam with joy, tears in their eyes as they resonated with every word he spoke. Everyone in the room had someone they thought about, someone they picture standing across from at the altar, hands held while they swear to keep their promises. The more Daniel went on, the more you realized that for you, it’s him. By the way he was looking at you, you have a pretty good idea that he was thinking of you, too.

Daniel shares an embrace with the bride and groom as they thank him for his heartfelt words. If they only knew the speech didn’t come from those notecards left discarded on the table. Daniel’s speech came straight from the heart, purely inspired by the burgeoning love he feels for you. Other guests sing his praises as he walks past their tables as he makes his way back to you. Romantic notes of the piano pick up from where they left off, and the floor opens up for guests to dance their night away. It gives him the perfect segway, unsure of how you’ll. If you react at all, that is.

“Congratulations, Plato. That was a pretty great speech.”

“I felt inspired,” He charms, extending his hand for you to take. “May I have this dance?”

Your lips curl into a smile, letting him lead you to the dance floor. “Do you even have to ask?”

Daniel shakes his head. “You’re doing that thing again.”

“What thing?”

“Deflecting by speaking in sarcasm and responding with rhetorical questions.” Something that admittedly drives him crazy, for better and for worse. “Why do you do that?”

“Why do you wanna know?” He gives you a pointed look, silently telling him that you’ve just proved his point. “Oh. I don’t know, maybe it’s easier for me that way. To imply how I feel because I can’t say it.”

The music is soft and the way Daniel holds your body to his… it's intimate. Like you could bare your deepest secrets to Daniel and leave it here in the ballroom once the song’s over. Insecurities only seek to discourage, they’re little reminders that this music isn’t for you. This night of romance doesn’t belong to you and Daniel, two friends that have blurred the lines so many times that they now cease to exist.

The last thing Daniel wants to do is rush you or scare you off. It’s a shame that he doesn’t think more before he speaks. “Do you ever get tired of keeping it in? Not saying what’s really on your mind?”

“Not always. I’d say it’s better to keep people guessing, never let them know my next move. I’m sure you know what that’s like.”

“Am I just ‘people’?” He questions. His tone is soft and smooth, not accusatory in the slightest. It’s what makes Daniel so easy to talk to, even when it hurts. You never have to hide from him, he’s always waiting for you with open arms.

“No, you’re not just ‘people’, but I don’t want to get your hopes up.”

“Are we talking about me or you? Because I’m pretty sure this entire party knows that I’m madly in love with you. I think you might be the last one to realize.”

You freeze, and instinctively feel like taking a step away. “We’re at a wedding, Daniel. Love is in the air. You’d kinda have to be a psychopath to not let your heart soften when you’re around all of this.”

“Has yours softened? Is that what I saw in your eyes when I gave my speech?”

“I guess I’m just surprised to hear you talk all romantic like that. If there weren’t about a hundred witnesses here I wouldn’t believe it.” You giggle and he smiles at your joke, knowing that you’re absolutely right. This wasn’t exactly an everyday occurrence for him.

“Well, believe it. I’m telling you all of a sudden, but it isn’t new with me. I love you.” Daniel pauses, gauging your reaction. “You don’t have to say it back. I’m still the luckiest man in the world, remember?”

They say actions speak louder than words, and the way you kiss him says more than you can express in this moment. It’s not the first kiss you’ve shared, and Daniel is relieved in knowing that it won’t be the last. He kisses you back, and this time it means something. It’s a chance at having more than you ever thought possible. Less of keeping your love locked away and more accepting what’s been here all along.

“It’s not new with me either. I love you too, Daniel.”

“If I knew that was coming, I would’ve said it sooner.”

“Don’t be smug.”

“I’m not, just happy.” Daniel shows off that signature smile, one that won’t be erased anytime soon. The maid of honor interrupts your moment, asking for all of the men to clear the floor. “Now go, it looks like you have a bouquet to catch.”

Your eyebrows raise in surprise at his boldness. Then again, the Daniel you love has never been one to back down from being unabashedly himself. “You mean you want me to catch it? You know that means we’re next right, are you sure you can handle that?”

Daniel lets his fingers trail down your arm as he backs away, bowing slightly and planting an affectionate kiss to your hand. He’ll be gone before you can scold him any further for what he’s about to say.

“With any luck, we will be.”

💌: i miss danny so much 🥲 feel free to request more from my blurb event here! comments and reblogs are always appreciated :)

taglist: @marjorieswrld

[smellslikechahnspirit]

[Book]

Are we good for each other?

5. Room

Bang Chan x F. Reader

Synopsis: Written according to y/n trophy. A story about how you two met. Both having a difficult life, finding peace in each other. Not without lots of drama. Just read it, it's great.

Genre: Enemies to lovers, soft, some smut, drama

Warnings: Under eating, depression, toxic ex (Let me know if I missed something)

Word count: 3200

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[8:25 AM]

Chris opened the door to his shared dorm, as he guided you in with your crutches. You just came back from the hospital where you got a cast on your leg. “Well, that was a disaster...”, you said. “I mean the ankle sucks, but it’ll heal. I’m more worried about your eating habits y/n. Please explain to me why you haven’t been taking care of yourself.”, Chris asked.

As you two walked in you looked around. It was indeed a very different aesthetic than the other dorm. He then helped you sit down on the couch in their living room. “Well, I want to eat, it’s just…”, you said, stopping in the middle of the sentence, not wanting to finish it. You simply didn’t have enough money right now, but the last thing you wanted was a rich guy pitting you, and maybe try to offer you stuff. That’s just everything you didn’t want.

“Y/n….I know you’re struggling with money and I don’t know, maybe you feel too embarrassed to tell me or whatever, but I’m here, I can help you ou- “, Chris said as you cut him off. “No, I don’t want any help. I know what you’re trying to do, and just be a nice human, but I just can’t, it would ruin my ego and dignity. So please don’t ever offer me anything like that ever again.”, you said wanting to get back up again so you could leave.

“Okay okay, I’m sorry, I understand. But right now, it’ll be on the company. Since you work at our building now technically, meals are free. So even though you do not want to take anything from me, I’m ordering us something in their name. I won’t take no for an answer. You need food in your system right now, period.”, he said holding your arm so you couldn’t get up.

You were too weak mentally and physically to argue right now so just gave in and agreed. “What do you like to eat, rice? Maybe some pasta? Tell me.”, he asked. You looked at him with a faint expression. “Whatever you want…”, you said as you lay your head back on the couch and closing your eyes. “Alright I’ll choose something. Meanwhile, let’s not worry about the gaming for today. Let’s just hang out here for a bit.”, he said as he got you a blanket. He put it over your body as you tried to get cosy.

“Can we maybe put on a movie?”, you asked him. He was glad you were acting more social to him than before, first you seemed distant, but now he felt more at ease with your behaviour towards him. “Here, put on anything you want.”, he said as he handed you the joystick of the gaming console in the living room.

He then went to the kitchen to get some drinks and called the food company to order. At first when you looked, you wanted to instantly open up the streaming app on there, to in fact choose a movie. But right next to it you saw a racing game. Your gaming heart couldn’t resist.

You clicked on it, and loaded into the only account that was on there, it said: Han Jisung. You didn’t care since all you wanted was to just play a match or two. Then you saw the rank. It was silver 2 division 3. You laughed.

Not to be rude, but that was really low. You didn’t want to mess with his rank and went on a guest account. So, you did and clicked 3v3 rumble. As the match loaded, Chris came back from the kitchen. He looked over at you as he asked what movie you picked. Then he looked at the screen.

“He he he…”, you grinned. He smiled at you and put the drinks down. Then he sat next to you. “Hmmm nice one, I’ve seen that one before.”, he said sarcastically. “I just needed to at least rank diamond 3.”, you said with desire in your voice. “Yeah, I have no idea what that means, but yay I guess.”, he said as he looked at you. You looked back at him.

You explained the ranking as he stayed quiet and just listened to you. Admiring your face while you spoke. Gosh you were beautiful he thought to himself. “So, if I play a few rounds, we’ll find out what rank I’ll be and well, I don’t expect anything lower than at least Plat, for now at least.”, you said as the match suddenly started. You turned you focus back to the screen, but his didn’t.

He just hummed in agreement but kept looking at you. “Hey, you should pay attention here, you need to learn right?”, you said since you saw him staring at you instead of the screen, from the corner of your eye. “I thought we weren’t learning today...”, he said as he kept looking at you and not the screen. You just glanced over real quick and laughed. “I guess so...hehehe”, you said, still very concentrated.

After 5 minutes the game was over and you and your team won, obviously. You even became MVP on the scoreboard. “GG bitches.”, you said out loud to be funny and stereotypical. You laughed and put the controller down on the coffee table for a second.

You turned your head back towards Chris and noticed he in fact did not move a single muscle and was still admiring you. Not in a creepy way but he was just so amazed by you and you excitement, it made him smile. “Whut?”, you asked him. “Nothing, you’re just amazing.”, he said. Then instantly realising what he just said and became as red as a tomato.

He looked down and smiled to himself. You stayed quiet. But you now finally saw it. Was he having a thing for you? Was this tension between you guys mutual? At first you wanted to be professional and not give into these strange feelings. But something in you felt so comfortable with him all of a sudden. You then also remembered how he helped you in the gym, and also how he stayed by your side in the hospital. How he was being too generous and taking care of you. You looked over to your glass. It had 2 ice cubes and a little pink umbrella in it. Even a mint leaf.

“Why are you being so nice to me?”, you asked him, who was now sitting only about half a meter away from you. “Some people are worth caring for…”, he said. He knew you hated being pitied, so he would never want you to feel that way towards him ever again. Yet he also felt this desire towards you. He did really like you and liked you as a person. You were funny and sarcastic, even a little bit goofy, and maybe somewhat like him, strong.

He knew you weren’t gonna give up your fight and it made him feel like he was not alone. Like you knew what it was like, having a hard time and he couldn’t really share those feelings with anyone else these last couple of years. He wanted someone to be able to agree with him and understand his hardship. He felt like you and him were the same in a way, and felt a great connection, even though you two only just met.

You smiled at him. Something in you was really attracted to him. All the worries from before were gone, and all you felt was a great desire to kiss this man in front of you. You were doubting yourself, since normally you wouldn’t do something like this with someone you’ve just met. But you felt it, he definitely felt the same way about you. No words had to be used. Only this diamond plated tension. You were so desperate now. But you knew you had to be patient.

As you both just stared at each other, both wanting to kiss, you said: “Maybe, we shouldn’t…”. As you said that he pulled away a bit and looked at you. “I know…I didn’t mean to…”, he said. “No I know, but…I just got hired at your company, and I feel like if we go there already right now, people might get the wrong ideas. That I indeed am privileged like that right now. To be able to work there and I don’t know, there many things people could think, you know some people have fucked up minds, like what if you’re a sugar daddy or I don’t know… I would just feel bad if anyone-“, he shut you up, by indeed kissing you.

His kiss was soft and tender. “I don’t care.”, he said, as you looked at him with big eyes, in shock. “Let them think whatever the fuck, no one is here, no one knows shit.”, he said. You kept looking into his eyes and thought the same thing now. You pressed your lips against his this time and pulled him even closer than before.

Both of you eager to continue this hot make out. He was pulling you closer. You rubbing your hands around his neck, shoulders, arms, then finally locked hands with him. He helped you sit on his lap, straddling him. You were both lost in lust as the kiss continued. “Fuck..”, he said between kisses. “I don’t know what I’m doing but I like it.”, you said right after.

He grabbed your ass and squeezed it tight. You left out a soft moan. Chris normally wouldn’t have done anything like this with anyone, let alone with a girl he just met. But as I’ve said before, he was so lost in the feeling.

“Gosh, I want you…”, he said as he had his hands at the bottom of your dress, ready to take it off. “Wait, what if anyone just comes in? Stop.”, you said as you stopped him from doing anything else. He looked at you with red cheeks and out of breath. Without saying anything he stood up with you still on his lap. Now holding you with your legs around his waist, as he walked towards his bedroom.

When he reached the door you kissed him again. He walked in, and placed you on the bed softly, carefully because of your ankle. When you lay down you giggled. He went back to the door to close it and lock it, just to be sure.

You looked adorable like that and he admired you from a distance. As he slowly walked over to you, he reached for his shirt, and pulled it off his body in a swift motion. You gasped softly when you saw his body. You stopped giggling and sat up straight.

When he reached you, you instantly brought your hands towards his abs. Gliding over them, up toward his pecks, then his shoulders and pulled him down so he was also on the bed now. Sitting, facing you. He smiled and grabbed the hem of your dress again. You were signalling that it was okay for him to take it off this time.

As he did, he kept looking only into your eyes. Words were not really needed right now, all that had to be said was said with actions. He tossed your dress on the floor and you continued making out. You both were feeling up each other’s bodies. When suddenly you reached his dick, you looked at him, asking him if it was okay for you to touch him. He nodded and kissed you again.

As the kiss became sloppy and very heated, you palmed his dick through his jeans. “Uhh..”, he moaned, not being able to wait any longer.He was rock hard already. You giggled. As you kept palming him for a few seconds, he grind his hips against your hand.

When you felt like it was enough you finally put your hand inside his pants, and stoked his dick with your bare hands now. You stopped for a second, so you could take his pants off completely. He helped you, and threw them across the room. You went back to pay attention to his dick and continued to touch him.

As he was now working his way up your back with his hands, undoing your bra. When he did so, he stopped the kiss again, to look at your body. “Wow, you’re so beautiful y/n…”, he said. By now your pussy was soaking wet and while you continued to pump his dick, he kneaded your boob. Kiss being resumed and as your right hand was on his dick, your left hand worked its way to your clit. Waiting to be touched.

He noticed and pushed your hands away. Both from him, as your clit. You looked confused, but right after, he laid you back down on your back. Giggling softly once more, as he smirked at you. “Let me see all of you.”, he said, then pulling off your lace black panties. That gave you butterflies. You just realised how much you really craved this feeling.

When he pulled your panties off, he hovered over you, completely naked. You blushed, but not out of embarrassment, but because of the adrenaline. He pressed a soft kiss on your lips, then neck, collar bones, then stopped at your boobs for a second as one hand kneaded the left one, and then kissed the right one. Taking his time to suck and pull a little on your nipple.

While he was doing so, his other hand went down to your core. When he reached it, he touched you for the first time, making you gasp a bit. “Let me know if there’s anything you don’t want me to do.”, he said and put his middle finger against your slit. Feeling up and down, being impressed by how wet you were.

You just moaned as you hold onto his shoulders and back. He then left your boobs behind and kissed your stomach, abdomen and finally reached your pussy. He looked up at you to make sure you were still comfortable, but when he did he saw you had your eyes closed in ecstasy and threw your head back against the mattress. He smiled.

He then slowly started kissing you lips, as he swirled his tongue around your clit. That made you grab onto his hair, not wanting him to stop whatever he was doing. He knew you were enjoying yourself, so decided to add more motion into it. He also felt like you deserved more already, at the state of you right this second. So he added a finger into the game. He put it in your pussy, in and out, slowly. You pushed his head closer to you to show you didn’t want him to stop.

A few minutes go by. “Chris, uhhh, please, I want more.”, you said pulling him away from down there. Guiding him back to your face, and kissing him again. “Gosh baby, you really want me, don’t you?”, he said breaking the kiss. “I never wanted anything more. Do you have any protection?”, you asked him.

He smiled and walked over to the bathroom. Admiring his butt as he walked out. When he came back you had secretly turned his LED lights to red, which took him by surprise, but loved it so much. He practically jumped back onto the bed. You both sat up and he opened the condom packet. He put in securely around himself and sat down at the headboard. Helping you once more to sit on his lap.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?”, he asked, panting, while already a bit sweaty. You nodded and wanted to sit upwards a bit, so you could take him from below. But you hesitated. “What’s wrong? We don’t have to you know, it’s up to you.”, he said making you look at him. You closed your eyes for a second. Let out a sigh and looked up at him again.

“I’m so sorry, I probably should’ve told you this earlier…”, you said as he looked at you confused. “What is it beautiful?”, he asked and put your hair behind your ear. “I uhhh, I am a…this is my first time…”, you said as you felt a guilt in your stomach, since you didn’t tell him before you were already in this state.

He looked at you very surprised. “What? How is that possible, you had a boyfriend and like, wait, huh?”, he spoke. “Well, you see, my ex wanted to wait until marriage. And before I met him, I was always just too scared to, you know…”, you said softly looking down. He smiled at you, rubbing the sides of your arms, trying to let you know it was okay. “Well I would be honoured.”, he said. You looked up and smiled.

“Really? You don’t mind?”, you asked. “Y/n, I’ve never met anyone like you, and you’re someone I really want to keep close. I know that sounds very strange, fast and weird maybe. But you give me a feeling I’ve never felt before. Not only this lust and desire, but also I feel like I can trust you, and you could understand me. And I’ve never felt that way towards anyone before. It would be my pleasure to take your virginity.”, he said and pulled you closer to him again.

You had butterflies all over your body now, and was amazed by his honest words. Nothing else mattered right now, not the job, not the other people with opinions, nothing. You then wanted to resume and finally feel him inside of you.

But of course the doorbell rang. You screamed a little since you didn’t expect it, then quickly laughed at your own spook. Chris pulled you off of him, and quickly put on his sweat pants. Then opened the door of his bedroom. “Stay here, I’ll be back.”, he said as he went over to the front door.

The second he left you had time to really look at the whole situation clearly. You loved it, but at the same time it made you sick. This wasn’t you. You were kind of taken back by yourself and your previous actions.

You carefully got up, trying not to hurt your ankle and hopped over to the mirror. You looked at yourself and felt miserable. Not because you didn’t want to do this with Chris, cause you really wanted to. But you were disappointed with yourself. You finally had a chance to work and earn money, and what do you do, you go and have sex with the guy who offered you the job.

You wanted Chris, but you needed this job, and needed it to work out. You walked over to the tv, where your dress laid on the floor, quickly picked it up. You put it on, also with your bra and panties, of course. When you were fully dressed again Chris walked back in. “The food is here, come on let’s eat.”, he said, also feeling like the moment lost its appeal.

Part 6

...Masterlist...

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