#it's great seeing the games lean into their romance some more

[kyraxyrespace]

Day Seventeen - Link/Princess Zelda, Zelink (Legend of Zelda)

[solxamber]

Witch, Please- Floyd Leech x reader

You're the best witch to go to for getting the job done. Your potions? Absolutely foolproof. At least, that's what you thought until a certain Floyd Leech waltzed into your store.

You were the go-to witch in the entire realm, known far and wide for your incredibly potent spells and potions. When people said you were good, they meant it—your concoctions didn’t just work; they exceeded expectations. Need a luck charm to ace that impossible test? Done. Want a potion to make your ex weep every time they hear your name? Consider it finished.

Of course, this level of expertise came with a price—literally. You didn’t work for free, and you made sure your clients knew it. The other price? You were constantly sleep-deprived. Sleep? Never heard of her. But hey, that’s the life of a witch: overworked, overtired, and somehow still making better potions than anyone else in the business.

So when Floyd Leech first showed up at your door, you were only half-conscious and didn’t know that you were about to enter a whirlwind of chaos, idiocy, and—unexpectedly—romance.

It was a cloudy afternoon, and you were organizing your potions, mostly to avoid falling asleep standing up. The soothing sound of glass bottles clinking was the only thing keeping you from face-planting into the nearest pile of spellbooks. That’s when you heard it: a loud, careless banging on your door. Great, you thought. Another customer.

Opening the door revealed Floyd, towering over you with that wide, toothy grin that practically screamed trouble.

“Yo, witchy! Got a minute?” He leaned in close, invading your personal space like he was about to share some sort of grand secret.

You blinked slowly, still not fully awake. “Floyd Leech… what brings you here?”

“Need a love potion.” He said it so casually, like he was asking for a cup of coffee. “Think it’ll be hilarious!”

“Hilarious?” You frowned, crossing your arms. “Love potions aren’t exactly for pranks, you know. They can be… unpredictable.”

“That’s the point! Imagine someone gettin’ all mushy and clingy. It’ll be so funny.” He was already laughing at the thought, practically vibrating with energy.

You sighed, because of course, Floyd would think that messing with people’s emotions was peak comedy. But hey, a job’s a job. And you did like getting paid.

“Fine, but use it responsibly.” You handed him the potion, explaining the rules. “Only a few drops, and make sure they drink it. Not bathe in it, not pour it on them, just—"

“Yeah, yeah, got it!” he said, snatching the bottle before sauntering off like he hadn’t just asked you for the magical equivalent of playing with fire.

You didn’t expect to see him again so soon, but the next day, there he was. Except now he was soaking wet, as though he’d taken a dive in a river.

“I thought you’d follow instructions,” you said, eyeing the puddle forming under his feet.

“I did!” he pouted. “I poured the whole bottle on ‘em!”

You blinked. “You poured it on them? Floyd… I said they have to drink it.”

“Ohhh… well, that explains why they just got real mad and threw iced tea at me.” He shrugged, totally unconcerned.

You stared at him for a moment, trying to figure out if he was messing with you. Nope, that was just Floyd being Floyd.

“Well, at least you got iced tea,” you muttered, already pulling out ingredients to make another potion.

A week later, Floyd was back, this time bouncing into your shop with that familiar grin. You felt your eye twitch involuntarily.

“What do you need now?” you asked, mentally preparing yourself for another round of nonsense.

“Good luck charm,” he said, like it was the most normal request in the world. “I wanna win all my basketball games without even tryin’. Gotta show those scrubs how it’s done.”

You gave him a skeptical look. “I can make you a charm, but it’s not gonna turn you into some kind of invincible sports god. It’ll give you a little edge, nothing more.”

He grinned wider. “That’s all I need! Gimme your best shot.”

With a sigh, you whipped up a charm that should have been harmless. It wasn’t meant to make him superhuman—just enough to tip the scales in his favor during a game.

Three days later, Floyd came back looking like he’d been through a warzone. His hair was singed, his clothes were tattered, and he had the unmistakable stench of burnt rubber clinging to him.

“…What happened?”

“Eh, turns out bleachers don’t hold up so good when you dunk the ball too hard.” He smirked, clearly proud of himself. “Collapsed the whole thing. Coach was so mad! It was hilarious.”

You buried your face in your hands. “Floyd, I gave you a good luck charm, not a demolition spell.”

He shrugged. “Details, details.”

You couldn’t decide if you were exasperated or impressed. Maybe a little of both.

After the good luck charm incident, you figured Floyd would take a break from terrorizing you with his wild requests. Nope. A week later, he was back again.

“Need a sleep potion.”

You raised an eyebrow. “For you?”

“Nah, for someone else. They’re too high-strung. Figured I’d help ‘em out.”

You didn’t ask questions. You didn’t want to know who he was planning to knock out with a sleep potion. You just brewed it up, handed it over, and gave him a warning: “One drop. That’s all it takes. If you use too much, they’ll be out for days.”

“Got it, got it,” he waved you off, already halfway out the door.

Fast forward to three days later, and Floyd showed up at your shop with a giant bruise on his face.

“Let me guess,” you said, not even looking up from the book you were reading. “The sleep potion backfired.”

“Yup,” he grumbled. “Guess people don’t like gettin’ surprise naps.”

You couldn’t help but laugh a little. “You’re lucky you didn’t put them into a coma.”

“Nah, they woke up… eventually.”

You rolled your eyes. This was becoming a pattern, and you were starting to question your life choices.

Round 4: The Strength Spell Chaos

It was late one night when Floyd barged in again, this time asking for a strength spell. You were too tired to argue, so you whipped up something simple, thinking what could go wrong with a bit of extra strength? Famous last words.

Two days later, Floyd came back, and you could hear him laughing from down the street. He walked in, looking like he’d just won the lottery.

“What happened this time?” you asked, though you weren’t sure you wanted to know.

“Broke the hoop clean off the backboard!” He mimed the motion, still laughing. “It was awesome! Then the hoop flew into the crowd. Chaos everywhere! Best day ever.”

You stared at him, incredulous. “You… you’re not supposed to destroy the equipment, Floyd!”

“Eh, details.”

You sighed. Again. A lot.

After all the mayhem, you thought Floyd had finally gotten bored of messing with potions. You were wrong. He came back one last time, leaning casually against the doorframe with that familiar grin.

“Witchy, I need another love potion.”

You groaned internally. “Floyd, we’ve been over this. You don’t—”

“Just trust me,” he interrupted, waving a hand dismissively. “This one’s important.”

At this point, you were too exhausted to argue. You mixed up a stronger potion this time, hoping that whatever chaos he was planning would at least stay contained to… well, wherever he was taking it.

But then, as you handed it to him, Floyd did something that made your brain stop and reboot.

He took the potion, popped the cork, and—while staring straight into your eyes—poured it into your tea.

You blinked. “Floyd.”

“Yeah?”

“…What did you just do?”

He smirked. “Wanted to make sure it worked on you.”

Your brain went blank. “Wha—”

He leaned in, resting his elbows on the counter, face close to yours. “Y’know, witchy, I thought hangin’ out with you was just a fun way to kill time. But after a while, I realized I like ya. So let’s skip the whole love potion thing. It’s more fun without magic, right?”

Your jaw dropped. “Floyd, you… you could’ve just asked me out!”

He shrugged, completely nonchalant. “This was more fun.”

You stared at him, half-exasperated, half-dumbfounded. “You’re insane.”

“Yup,” he said, grinning like a shark. “But you like me anyway, don’tcha?”

You didn’t even have the energy to argue. Maybe he was right. Maybe, in some bizarre, unprecedented way, you did like him.

“Well,” you sighed, leaning back in your chair, “I guess you’re brewing the next round of tea, then.”

Floyd just laughed, and for once, you couldn’t help but smile back.

Masterlist

[rookinthecrownest]

Some Updated Thoughts on Lucanis' Romance (Both Positive & Constructive)

I want to make this as balanced and as reasonable a take as I can. I'll put everything under the cut and tag as critical so you don't have to engage with it/see it if you don't want to.

As usual, these are just my opinions. If you really enjoyed Lucanis' romance, none of what I'm about to say is meant to dissuade you from that. I'm happy for you!! I'm so glad you enjoyed it. There were parts of it that I absolutely loved too, and I hope I'll do that justice with this post so it doesn't come across as hate. Because I don't hate his romance, I just think there was some places where it could have been fleshed out a bit more.

If you want to engage in discussion with the more critical aspects of this post, my only request is you do so respectfully.

Positives

I'd like to start on a good note by detailing the aspects of his romance that I really liked. There are a few places where I think they did a great job with his romance.

Party Banter & Codex Entries

Although meant to be supplemental material to the story, I think they do a really good job at helping the slow-burn aspect of his romance they were going for. There's one codex entry that goes something along the lines of 'It is not an hour lost, but an hour found' and that is one of my favourite codex entries....ever. It's such a short entry but so meaningful and shows you a lot about his character. You get this profound sense of just how much Rook means to him with this one line.

His party banter once you're in a relationship is also very sweet. I didn't get a lot of it, but what I did get was lovely. Especially when he admits to Neve that Rook is good for him and makes him smile. There's another line about how he doesn't know what Rook sees in him, but he's happy they're with him which is super sweet. Telling Emmrich how Rook is his first relationship? Adorable.

Everything about the party banter and codex entries did a good job of giving us more insight into how his character is dealing with things, when it's not explicitly shown to us in cutscenes (We'll come back to this later). It helps form a more complete picture of the way they wanted to handle this romance in general.

Relationship Cutscenes

There's a few scenes throughout the romance that I enjoyed a lot.

The scene with Illario at Cafe Pietra and the talk of first kisses and kisses goodbye was very cute and well done. It really did feel like a coffee date haha.

The almost-kiss scene was also amazing. The confident stride towards Rook, the wall-lean, his facial expression when he pulls away. You can feel how much he wants it, but something in the back of his mind (whether it's him, or Spite) pulls him away at the last second? I loved that. I'm actually super glad they didn't kiss here. The pull away made for great tension (I'm going to come back to why this is important later).

His line about Rook breaking apart his 'perfectly gathered clouds of doom' was beautiful, and one of my favourite lines in the game.

Although there could have been more to it, his romance lock-in scene with him baking dessert for Rook is also sweet and shows his romantic side and thoughtfulness.

The ending scene of the romance, after Rook comes out of the Fade Prison, is some of my favourite romance scenes in any Bioware game. Any game, period. It was so incredibly well done. From the writing, to the dialogue, to the facial expressions - absolutely everything was perfect. The wings coming out, the fade to black, the banter about falling asleep and playing cards with Spite? Lovely. All absolutely lovely. 10/10, no notes.

His dialogue about killing any god to keep Rook safe is very sweet/romantic. How he wants Rook to tell them this all ends with him asleep in their arms. How Rook's voice is a comfort. This was SO beautiful.

All in all, in some places, I feel that they did achieve the slow burn they wanted with his romance. Even excelled at it, really.

Constructive Criticism

I'm just going to re-iterate that while this section may be longer than the positives, it comes from a place of love rather than just wanting to hate for the sake of hating. I've been a fan of this character ever since I picked up Tevinter Nights, and was looking forward to his romance the most.

The Neve Situation

I'm going to get this one out of the way first because it's probably one of the more.... contentious points in this discussion.

Besties, I need you all to hold my hand so tightly as I say this, but absolutely none of my frustration with the Neve/Lucanis thing is to be construed as hate towards Neve. In fact, I love Neve. I've been a fan of her since she appeared in the comics. I loved her in Tevinter Nights. I love her in the game, I can't wait to romance her. I don't have a problem with these two characters getting together if Rook is not romancing either of them. That being said, there are a few things about his interactions with Neve if romanced by Rook that I can see why they would rub people the wrong way (and why they rub me the wrong way a little bit too).

-Neve and Lucanis can still flirt after Lucanis is locked into a romance with Rook. This is a pretty big oversight from the devs. Its no secret that characters will romance each other if not in a romance with the player character. It happened in DA2 with Fenris/Isabela, in DAI with Josephine/Blackwall, Sera/Dagna, and Bull/Dorian. In ME, I believe it happens with Garrus and Tali as well. So, I don't think the simple fact that they can get together is really what's bothering people.

Importantly, unlike previous games, once the player character is locked into a romance with the other party, the LI doesn't flirt with other companions. I think if the devs had locked the flirting once Lucanis is locked in with romance, much of this conversation wouldn't even be happening.

DATV is a role-playing game. Nothing would take someone out of a role-playing game faster than their love-interest being flirty with another companion - and understandably so. It just feels...icky? Like your player character is getting in the way of a ship the writers wanted. I don't think it's unreasonable for someone to not want to feel like a third wheel in their own romance.

-In Lucanis' mind-prison quest, even if he's romanced by Rook, Neve will still appear. The way Spite describes her seems to imply he still has some sort of romantic feelings for her. Which.... yikes (but this may also just be the way I read his line). If he's not romanced by Rook, Neve being here would make sense. There's not even a mention about Rook in a note or anything. Spite has one line about Rook opening doors and not closing them but that's about it. There's no special romance reactivity in this scene, even though it happens pretty late in the game and after the romance-lock in. Afterwards, he says he trusts you with his thoughts, which is sweet. But this should have been in the cutscene - not skippable banter at the LightHouse.

Set Up & Pay-off

This is a fundamental aspect of storytelling I'm sure you're all familiar with. The classic Chekov's gun. Don't set up something you don't plan to pay off.

Let's go back to the almost-kiss. They set up some fantastic romantic tension here. If you go see Lucanis again after this scene, I think he has a line along the lines of "I'm sorry Rook... I can't ..." But that's all we get. And the almost-kiss isn't really addressed again. Actually I wouldn't even call this being addressed in the first place, because if you wait too long to see him after that cutscene it may not trigger in the first place. This is probably the most egregious example of wasted set up with no pay off. There's no discussion about it. There's no cutscene of Lucanis talking to another companion, or even having some kind of internal monologue about it.

Another example of set up & pay-off is after confronting Illario. Lucanis says he has a plan to celebrate instead of sticking around at the party.

Cut to him drinking coffee by himself back at the Lighthouse.

Rook & Lucanis could have sneaked off to Cafe Pietra, or gone walking in the Treviso market. Or hell, taken the Gondola ride that was in the concept art. Or kissed in the rain under an awning. (I'm never getting over that concept art they showed us...)

The conversation about sparing Illario, how he doesn't want to lose what he has left, including Rook, is fine. But I feel this was another wasted opportunity.

The romance lock-in scene is another example of a missed opportunity/failed set-up. It doesn't even feel like a romance lock-in to a lot of people. If so many players think their game is bugged because that's how you lock in the romance, I think there's a problem. You go from almost kissing to a full on relationship. There is so much that can happen in between that (none of which has to be physical intimacy btw) which could have helped make the lock in scene make more sense. It's the same scene as the one with Neve - but almost...done worse?

Having coffee with Spite & Lucanis. This one is more a writing issue. At the end of the scene he stands awkwardly next to Rook and says, "Whatever this is, I'll take it" and I couldn't help but feel... the writers really just didn't know what they wanted to accomplish with this scene. 'Whatever this is' could have been 'I don't know what this is yet or what to call it, but whatever it is, I want to see it through with you' or something along those lines. Astarion actually says something similar in one of his romance scenes, but he holds your hand, looks at Tav earnestly, and says "Honestly, I don't know what we're doing. But this...this is nice..". He doesn't put a name to the relationship either, but it's the way he says it and how it's conveyed that make it a more effective scene.

He's been imprisoned for a year. He was made into an abomination. He doesn't sleep. He's dealing with PTSD probably. He's a romantic at heart but needs to learn to trust again. It makes sense that he's not overly flirty with Rook, and the romance isn't very physical. This is all FINE.

BUT.

While I listed the codex entries & party banter as a positive (because I do like it), I feel that they leaned too heavily on that for the romance.

Let's contrast Lucanis' romance to Cullen's romance in DAI. After all, Cullen has also gone through some pretty traumatic shit and is literally struggling with Lyrium addiction when you meet him in Inquisition. I want you to remove all of Cullen's side-banter about the inquisitor, all party banter about their relationship, and all the codex entries. When you watch the cutscenes of his romance in order, you are still left with a solid romance. If you're a mage, you even get some heartbreaking mage-specific dialogue about whether or not he'd cut you down if you ever become an abomination.... And I'm getting off topic here, sorry.

My point is, these things are meant to be extra. They are not supposed to be the way you piece together bits of your own relationship and a substitute for companion interaction. And here is where I think DATV's choice not to let you randomly talk to your companions really hurts it as a game.

Romance Reactivity

There's a few points in the game where romance-specific dialogue would have really helped solidify things.

No, I don't mean flirting. I mean dialogue that reads like he's struggling with building the relationship - not bulldozing right past it. It makes the romance-specific dialogue wheel options feel rather useless.

One example is during one of his personal quests, Rook says

"I'm still here aren't I"

No facial reaction, "We need to talk about Illario"

You can see how this is a bit ... jarring, right? Like you may as well have not even picked the romance-specific dialogue? There's a few instances of this, but that one is just the one I can recall off the top of my head. When I pick the romance-specific dialogue wheel in Bioware games, there's always something about the response from the other character that indicates something more might be going on - it could be something as simple as a nervous smile, or an extra line of dialogue, or hell, maybe they flirt back (although with Lucanis I understand why he wouldn't).

If you're not going to show romance reactivity with Rook, give us a scene with Lucanis where we understand why. Show him fumbling to do something nice for them. Show him pacing and wondering if Rook is really into him. Show him struggling against Spite, if he's worried Spite will hurt Rook. Don't just tell us through codex entries. Show us.

Miscellaneous Sentiments & Final Thoughts

On the whole, I genuinely feel like Lucanis has the least content out of all the companions. Maybe it's because they laid off Courtney Woods & Mary Kirby, maybe there's another reason. I don't know. But so often I found myself going back to the Lighthouse wanting to talk to Lucanis but there's no little indicator thingy for him. But every time I go back Davrin, Harding, Bellara, etc. all have something to say.

We should have had an opportunity to delve a little bit more into his relationship with his family, unpacked the stuff with Caterina & Illario a bit more, and unpacked him being made First Talon. Which, if you read Tevinter Nights, you know he actually doesn't want the job. If they weren't going to include it as a cutscene, then extra dialogue (a-la-Inquisition) would have been a good place to fit that in.

On the whole, I still like aspects of his romance. I'm looking forward to romancing him again. I just feel that the romance could have benefitted from even 1 or 2 extra small scenes. If I can go on 1000 walks in the forest with Davrin and Assan, I should be able to have a real conversation with Lucanis about the relationship, his hangups about it, and try and work through it.

Keep the almost-kiss in there. An extra kiss before the finale would have been fine, but not necessary. What was necessary, imo, is a whooole lot of buildup throughout the course of Act 2 so it doesn't feel like you're getting whiplash in Act 3 when you do kiss and have the implied sex scene.

I think the concept art that was recently released feels like a gut punch to us Lucanis fans. Because it shows that Bioware had the skeleton of a great romance, and chose to axe nearly all of it.

It really feels like they didn't quite know what to do with his character and romance and just said 'put it all in the codex and banter and let them figure it out for themselves'.

Quick Notes

The argument that we should 'run to AO3' to fix our issues with the narrative, to me, is unproductive. Fanfiction should supplement the source material, not act as a replacement for good storytelling.

I don't think telling people to headcanon a majority of a romance they were looking forward to is helpful either. Headcanon is not supposed to replace storytelling either.

Boiling down the criticisms of Lucanis' romance to 'you just want more steam/sex/etc' is also unhelpful. Maybe it's just who I follow, but I have barely seen anyone (on here or reddit) state that this is their main problem with the romance.

Okay, that's it!

Bye!

[the-travelling-witch]

𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐌𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄

summary: the types of kisses the demons like to give and receive

pairings: demon brothers :: barbatos x gn! reader

warnings: i totally never play favourites ever

obey me! masterlist || similar post: hold me close

𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐅𝐄𝐑

Lucifer takes great pride in being able to make your heart soar and head spin. And what better way to do that than stealing all air from you with a passionate kiss to the lips? But he also has his softer moments filled with only praise for you and he can’t stop himself from holding your jaw between his fingers and pressing a sweet peck to your forehead.

He is frankly a little awkward with receiving affection, being more used to facing either admiration, fear or annoyance. Yet, he cannot suppress the warmth spreading through his chest if you try to pull him away from work with a kiss to his temple and a hushed whisper to come to bed. Although Lucifer may not admit it, when you lean in to flutter a kiss to his closed eyelids it symbolises the ultimate trust to him.

𝐌𝐀𝐌𝐌𝐎𝐍

You already know, this snowy-haired tsundere will absolutely deny enjoying your affection. Pfft, you really think he needs some human’s love and care? (Yes, he does. And everyone knows it too.) Mammon would kill for a sliver of your tender affection, only to curl up on your lap and bask in your touch; he thrives with your attention on him and only him. Normally pretty chill and laid back, he’ll get really pissed if someone interrupts your one-on-one quality time.

Mammon, being the Avatar of Greed, obviously wants all of your kisses! Give him all your love and affection, human! There is, however, a comfort that comes with pressing a lingering kiss to the crown of your head while he has you wrapped up in his arms (and wings on occasion). Not only can he hide his glowing cheeks from you but he also feels like he’s protecting you and keeping you safe.

Your kisses? Again, he wants them all! Of course you want to kiss the Great Mammon, ya can’t seem to get enough of him, ain’t that right? Kiss the area peeking out from the collar of his shirt where his neck meets his collarbones, that’ll shut him right up. And lord help him if you ever kiss the marks on his chest when he’s in his demon form… Please pretend not to notice his reddened face or ears.

𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍

Leviathan is… freaking out, to put it lightly. His heart and mind are racing!! Not only do you want to hang out with him, no you also like like him. Him!! Not one of his stupid brothers!! Is he back in the Celestial Realm? It takes a while for him to show affection at all and not immediately self-deprecate afterwards if you don’t initiate it. But after enough reassurance from you, he learns that you really are okay with having him touch you. 

He’s still a shy baby though and something so bold as a kiss to your cheek or lips is way too high-level normie stuff (although he really wants to kiss you)!! The genius solution? Kissing the palm of your hand!! Whether you’re watching anime or you’re sitting in his lap watching him game, chances are Levi’s fiddling with your fingers anyway once his hands are free. (Jealous Levi is a different kind of monster though…)

If you ever kiss his cheek, Levi.exe will stop working; a kiss to the lips would take him straight out. Whether it’s just because you want to be cute or if it’s a little thank you or you’re excited he won a game, it doesn’t matter and you can basically see the blood rush to his face. If he’s ever in his demon form with you, consider giving some love to his non-human traits too; he’s very insecure about them and it’ll help him greatly.

𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐍

Satan is a true romantic at heart. Whether it’s all the romance novels he absorbed, if he’s just naturally like this or if he’s trying to cover his reputation as the Avatar of Wrath, he is a gentleman either way. And a gentleman kisses the beloved’s hand right? As cute as the basic is, Satan prefers pressing his lips to the inside of your wrist. It feels way more intimate and the trust you have in him, one of the most dangerous demons, to let him so close to a sensitive area of your body sends his mind reeling. 

Your every kiss will bring a fond smile to his face, so he’s not picky. That being said, there’s a special place in his heart for the times you lean in to place a kiss to the tip of his nose. It’s playful and endearing and the spark in your eyes so close to his captivates his whole being.

𝐀𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐔𝐒

When it comes to affection, Asmo might as well be the Avatar of Greed. Give him all of your love, he deserves it! In turn, he will smother you in as much attention as you can take. It’s no secret that Asmo is as shameless as a demon can be when it comes to sneaking a kiss here and there, and he’s not picky about the place. Whether it’s all over your face, up your thighs and to your hips or a cheeky little kiss to the back of your hand, Asmo is the demon to fulfil whatever your heart desires. 

If he were to pick his personal favourite though, it would be your spine. Not only is he delighted to see your bare back, he can also watch you shiver as the ghost of his fingers grazes your skin. For him, the space between his shoulder blades is very sensitive as it sits right where his wings sprout. So to see you expose such a vulnerable spot to him makes his heart beat faster and head spin if he thinks too long about it. You do funny things to him, you know that, darling?

Again, Asmo being Asmo, he welcomes all your kisses gladly, but not equally. Sure, connecting your lips is delightful and the way you sensually move to his neck makes him all giddy. Yet, in a very un-asmo-esque fashion, what excites him most are the most innocent of gestures. Case and point, the blush that settles on his perfect skin when you kiss the back of his hand. Do it after he finishes a manicure, when your hands are interlocked or just casually when you see him. This demon is all yours now.

𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐙𝐄𝐁𝐔𝐁

Beel loves you very much and he shows it pretty openly, no beating around the bush here. It might not be as refined as writing a poem or what the films always show but he shares his food with you, which is a dead giveaway about how serious he is. Consequently, he’s very concerned about your health and making sure you’re taking care of yourself. So if he presses soft kisses to your stomach when you cuddle after a meal, not only can he express his affection but he can also make sure you’re eating regularly.

Every time you kiss the corner of his lips, Beel’s absolutely stunned for a few seconds, eyes adorably wide as his brain catches up. Not only is he happy you are initiating affection but when you get so close he can pick up on your scent so effortlessly. Not to mention, the fact you didn’t quite meet his lips leaves him wanting more and there’s a high chance he pulls you back in for a real taste a second later. You know, suddenly he’s hungry again…

𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐏𝐇𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐑

Belphie might not be as over the top with his affections as some of his brothers but there’s no doubt to be had that he is absolutely smitten with you. To outsiders it might not be as obvious but to those who know him, it’s clear as day, really. The way he’s trying to hide his blush, subtly show off or try to stay awake for you really gives him away. Plus, he’ll put up with any of your nonsense and will also put in the effort to care about and for you.

On that note, finding you two together isn’t always as easy though because Belphie will steal you away for a nap at any given time of day. No matter how long you’ve been in the Devildom already, Belphie is still insistent that he has to make up for lost time.

Whether you’re just his favourite pillow or if you are wrapped up in his arms, he wants to be as close to you as possible for a good night’s (or day’s) sleep. Whatever the case, the youngest is a lot more likely to press a half-asleep kiss to whatever part of skin he can reach while curled up next to you. If he could choose one, it would have to be kissing your neck while holding you from behind. Not only does he get to hear your pulse, he can also get a rise out of his brothers if he accidentally happens to bite down just a little…

Good thing Belphie is lying down most of the time because whenever you kiss his forehead, his knees go weak. Your hand gently pushing his hair out of his face before your lips flutter against his skin in the softest of touches could send him straight back to dreamland with how much comfort it provides. It doesn’t even matter when you do it. Whether it’s to wake him up, give him a good night’s kiss or to display how proud you are and how much you love him, Belphie could never get enough of your kisses. 

𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐒

Barbatos lives to serve and there’s nobody he likes to please more than you. Life can get tough, especially since you do so much for the people around you, so Barbatos would love nothing more than to be a place of comfort for you. Besides making tea for you and listening intently to what troubles you, Barbatos would also like to alleviate some of the physical strains. And what would be better suited for that than a massage provided by your partner?

As skilled fingers knead away the knots and stress of your everyday life, Barbatos will sneak in a few affections just for you. Whether it’s the small of your back, your shoulder blades or the back of your neck, expect them to be lavished in the gentlest attention as you melt into his touch. But your demon is always very keen on pressing soft kisses along the skin of your shoulders, from the moment he slips your clothes off for the massage to the moment he helps adjust them again. Also, if you ever find yourself in a situation where Barbatos has some free time to step away from his job for a while and just be himself, he’ll take every chance he gets to slip the collar of your top out of the way and indulge a little.

There’s no doubt that you are Barbatos’ favourite way to wind down. Just being with you recharges his energy fully and reminds him he’s more than just his job. That’s why it means so much to him when you carefully work off his gloves like he’s a delicate porcelain cup and place a lingering kiss to each pad of his fingers. The first time you do it, he’s very much taken by surprise but after recovering from his shock he’s already fond of the gesture. Even after he slips his gloves back on, he feels as if your touch still tingles underneath the material, the urge to feel your skin on his again burning bright under his composed façade. 

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[danses-with-dogmeat]

Romanced! FO4 Companions and the Little Things They Do in Relationships

Alright, so this one wasn't really a request, but just a lil amalgamation of relationship headcannons that I compiled recently.

I'm definitely still getting back into the swing of things in terms of writing, so my output hasn't been fantastic lately, but hopefully this lil tidbit makes y'all smile 😊

I hope you enjoy!

Cait:

Gives her partner massages often. When there’s that rare bit of downtime, she’ll take the opportunity to help both her and her partner relax, and this is a great way to do it. She's exceptionally gifted at them, given her time spent in the ring and having to combat that bodily soreness herself. She also loves how they tend to end up leading to a lil something more with her partner (wink, wink). 

Curie:

This girl compliments you at every turn. Any little good thing that comes to mind, she's the first to say, and she does it often. Always the first to see the best in people, to see their potential, and you, of course, are no exception. Her compliments tend to be about your clothes, words, and actions rather than just flattering your physical appearance. Though, she definitely does that on occasion as well. 

Danse:

He always checks in with his partner a few times a day. Even if you're both working on projects separately, he likes to come over and ask how your day is going/how you're feeling. Even if you spend the whole day at each other's side, he takes a couple rest stops and asks how you're doing along the way. Maybe it stems from his time as a CO, always checking in with his team and getting/giving status updates, but it’s one of the main ways he shows that he cares.  

Deacon:

He notices a lot about his partner. The way your nails are torn and shortened means you're stressed, or when you bite your lip that certain way it means you're nervous, when you’ve been particularly spacey, it means you’re dwelling on the past and probably not in the best headspace that day. He’s not great at bringing it up and chatting about it, but he adjusts his behavior and his humor to fit the mood you’re in, and when time and space allow, he does what he can to distract you from some of the more negative feelings that may be rising up.  

Hancock:

He always needs a hand on his partner, or just to be touching them somehow. It's not that he's really trying to be possessive, per-say, he just can't get enough of you. Always is holding your hand, or throwing an arm over your shoulders, or pulling you practically into his lap with a giddy smile on his face. When you’re not actively in his lap, he’s happy to settle for leaning his head on your shoulder, or brushing your thigh with his own, or even just holding pinkies.  

MacCready:

He's a great gift giver. Definitely the partner that often finds little things that remind him of you, and he tends to gift them to you with a blushy explanation of how you come to mind with so much of what he sees. He’s also quite crafty, and enjoys giving homemade gifts as well. Definitely the one to suggest homemade presents for anniversaries and birthdays and such.  

Nick:

Always kisses you before he leaves, and it's the first thing he does when he returns to you. Real old-fashioned, but it's a trend that he'd never give up, cuz it means all the more when it's with you. The memories of it with the old Nick just don't hold up the same way. 

Piper:

The partner to leave little notes all over the place to let you know she was thinking of you. In the bathroom, on the kitchen counter, over your pillow, anywhere really is fair game. They just contain little compliments and inspirational quotes or reminders of memories with you. Whatever good thing she thinks of you, she just writes it down and leaves it for you to find and reminisce upon yourself. 

Preston:

He always brings you flowers (or another, equally thoughtful, gift) whenever he returns home. Usually he tries to find your favorites in terms of blooms, but he just loves the extra color in the house and the way you light up when you see them (he doesn’t really realize that the true reason you’re lighting up is because he’s coming home to you).  

X6-88:

He remembers all of the little details about you that anyone else would usually ignore or forget. Favorite color and food, your allergies, your favorite number, favorite song and the artist it's by. All of it is duly noted by the courser, and put into consideration when he's gifting you something, when you two go to eat, or when the radio is playing. He may not be too long-winded in speech, but he’s a tremendous listener and observer. 

[f14fun]

lay all your love on me - op81 (C4)

synopsis: in which oscar piastri and a university student begging for her euro summer vacation collide in a steamy, abba-inspired romance

prose (9.4K words) ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ profile | masterlist | series index ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────────────── 04: Dinner Table Tango (Put Me On TV Netflix)

Our usual dinners were low-key affairs—think microwaved leftovers, a quick pasta dish, or maybe some takeout eaten in front of the TV while my mom narrated the latest drama from whichever reality show was her current obsession. Tonight, though, was a whole different beast. It was like we’d accidentally wandered into a chaotic crossover episode of MasterChef meets a reality TV reunion: there were kabobs piled high on platters, enough side dishes to feed an entire neighborhood, and a whirlwind of personalities that made it feel like every seat at the table came with its own subplot.

Oscar’s dad, Chris, had turned the backyard grill into his personal stage, flipping kabobs with the flair of a man who was auditioning for his own cooking show. Each turn of the skewer came with commentary, like, “See that sear? That’s what you call perfection,” and if you didn’t know better, you’d think he was preparing a meal for a panel of judges instead of a casual dinner. Nicole, Oscar’s mom, hovered nearby, nodding along as if she hadn’t heard his grilling philosophy a thousand times before, while my mom, Belle, politely sipped her wine, pretending to be fascinated by every culinary revelation.

At the table, Hattie, Edie, and Mae were buzzing with their usual sibling energy—Hattie and Mae were whispering about something that kept making them burst into giggles, while Edie was eyeing the dessert like it was the final boss in a video game she was determined to conquer. Every few seconds, they’d shoot each other knowing looks, their inside jokes and side comments flying faster than I could keep up.

I picked up a plate and tried to navigate my way through the lively chaos, eyeing a seat at the far end of the table where I could blend into the background. But as soon as I moved, Oscar was there—close enough that I could practically feel the heat radiating off his skin from the sun and the pool. I placed my plate down, aiming for a spot near the drinks, but no sooner had I set my food down than Oscar plopped down next to me, grinning like this was all part of some game only he knew the rules to.

I moved again, feigning a casual stroll to the other end, but Oscar followed, a smug smile playing on his lips as he sat down beside me once more. I couldn’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of it, each move feeling like a dance where I kept trying to sidestep and he kept closing in.

I finally turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “Are you planning to follow me all night, or are you just allergic to sitting anywhere else?”

Oscar leaned back in his chair, that infuriatingly confident grin never wavering. “What can I say? You’re the best seat in the house,” he said, shrugging like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Besides, I promised you great dinner company, didn’t I?”

“You’re like a lost puppy,” I muttered, shaking my head but unable to keep the smile off my face. “Except more annoying.”

He just laughed, nudging my arm playfully. “I prefer ‘persistent’—sounds cuter. But if being annoying gets me the best view, then I’ll take it.”

Nicole glanced over from across the table, her mom radar obviously picking up on the exchange. “Oscar, sweetie, why don’t you give her a little space?” she teased, though the gleam in her eyes suggested she was enjoying this far too much.

Oscar shrugged, unbothered. “Why would I? I’m right where I want to be.”

Belle, my mom, was clearly entertained, watching us like she’d just tuned into her favorite show. “You know, if he keeps this up, you might need to get him his own seat belt,” she joked, topping off her wine as she watched Oscar stick to my side like glue.

I rolled my eyes, trying to act nonchalant, but the warmth of his presence was impossible to ignore. “Don’t encourage him,” I mumbled, but even as I said it, I couldn’t help but feel a strange thrill. Oscar’s persistence was absurdly charming, and no matter how much I tried to brush it off, his attention felt like its own kind of spotlight, casting everything in a new, exciting light.

The table was loud with laughter and overlapping conversations, skewers being passed around and plates filling up with everything from grilled corn to tangy salads. I tried to focus on my food, savoring the perfectly marinated kabobs and buttery potatoes, but Oscar’s constant presence kept pulling me back in, his playful nudges and whispered comments making it impossible to forget he was right there, next to me, watching every reaction.

“You really do have a knack for this,” I said, nudging him back just as he reached for another skewer.

Oscar flashed me a quick, sideways smile, his eyes twinkling. “For what, dinner? Or following you around like it’s my job?”

“Both,” I shot back, but the lightness in my voice betrayed how much I was enjoying the banter.

Oscar chuckled, spearing a piece of grilled zucchini with his fork. “Well, I’m nothing if not dedicated,” he said, popping it into his mouth with an exaggerated flourish. “And hey, if I’m going to be annoyingly persistent, I might as well be charming about it, right?”

I rolled my eyes, but there was no malice behind it, only a growing sense of ease that came from how effortlessly he slipped into conversation with me. “Is that what this is? Charm? I thought it was just a fancy word for stalking.”

He laughed, a low, easy sound that sent a shiver down my spine despite the warm evening air. “Stalking’s such a strong word. I prefer ‘being attentive.’ You know, keeping an eye on the competition.” He leaned closer, his shoulder brushing mine as he whispered, “Plus, it’s kind of fun to see you all flustered.”

I felt my cheeks warm instantly, and I shoved a forkful of salad into my mouth to cover up my embarrassment. “You’re the worst,” I mumbled around the bite, trying to sound annoyed but failing miserably.

“Am I, though?” he teased, nudging my leg under the table with his foot. “Because it kind of seems like you like it.”

I swallowed, trying to ignore the way my heart was racing. “You wish,” I shot back, but even as the words left my mouth, I knew he could see right through me.

Nicole, who had been listening to our back-and-forth with thinly veiled amusement, finally chimed in. “Oscar, honey, you might want to ease up before she throws you in the pool,” she said, winking at me. “But if she does, don’t worry—I’m sure you can swim.”

Oscar didn’t miss a beat, turning to his mom with a cheeky grin. “Oh, I’m not worried. I think she’d just jump in after me.”

I tried to keep my composure, but it was impossible not to laugh at his relentless confidence. “Keep dreaming, hotshot,” I said, giving him a playful shove, but even as I said it, I couldn’t help but feel a strange mix of exasperation and excitement at his attention.

Belle leaned over, her eyes twinkling as she passed me the breadbasket. “You’re handling him well,” she whispered with a smirk. “Most girls would’ve dunked him by now.”

I shot her a look of mock horror. “Trust me, it’s tempting. But I think he likes the attention too much.”

Oscar, who apparently had supersonic hearing when it came to anything involving himself, leaned in again, this time closer than before, his voice low and teasing. “Oh, I definitely do. But between you and me, I think you like it too.” He raised his glass in a mock toast, his eyes never leaving mine. “To good company and making the most of dinner.”

I clinked my glass with his, trying to ignore the butterflies that fluttered in my stomach at the way he was looking at me—like I was the only person at the table worth paying attention to. “To you not annoying me for five minutes,” I countered, but my smile gave away how much I was actually enjoying every second of it.

Oscar’s grin only widened, his eyes never leaving mine as he took a slow sip of his drink, savoring the moment. There was a playful glint in his gaze, but something deeper too, something that made my chest tighten. It was as if this whole day—every flirtatious comment, every lingering look—had been building up to something unspoken, something that hovered just beneath the surface, waiting to be acknowledged.

“So, what happens after five minutes?” he asked, his voice low, almost teasing, but there was an undercurrent of curiosity that made my breath hitch. “Do I get to keep my seat, or are you kicking me to the curb?”

I laughed softly, but the question hung in the air, feeling heavier than it should. “Depends,” I said, trying to keep my tone light. “Are you planning on behaving?”

“Not if I can help it,” Oscar replied, his voice warm and teasing, but his gaze was intense, like he was studying me, trying to figure out exactly what I was thinking.

I glanced away, suddenly overwhelmed by the intensity of his attention. There was something about the way he was looking at me that felt new, unexpected—like he was seeing me in a way no one else ever had. It was unnerving, thrilling, and terrifying all at once, and it made me feel like everything I thought I knew was suddenly up in the air.

The conversations around us continued, but they felt distant, muffled, as if the world had faded into the background. I could feel the weight of Oscar’s eyes still on me, searching, and for a moment, I found myself caught between the familiar and the unknown. Everything felt different, like the ground beneath me had shifted without warning, and all the little things I’d been so sure of were suddenly tangled up in emotions I hadn’t anticipated.

Oscar’s voice broke through my thoughts, quieter now, a touch more sincere. “You okay? You went quiet on me.”

I blinked, startled by how quickly my mind had wandered. “Yeah, I’m fine,” I said, forcing a smile. “Just… thinking.”

“About?” he pressed, his eyes soft but probing, clearly not satisfied with my evasive answer.

I hesitated, the words feeling heavy on my tongue. “About how you’re… different,” I said, the admission making my heart race. “Today, everything’s just… not what I expected.” I trailed off, unsure how to put into words the strange mix of excitement and uncertainty that was bubbling up inside me.

Oscar watched me for a moment, his expression shifting from playful to something gentler, more thoughtful. “I get it,” he said finally, his voice low and earnest. “It’s weird when things change on you, isn’t it? Like you’re used to one thing, and then suddenly it’s all flipped around.”

He leaned in a little closer, his tone softening as if he was letting me in on a secret. “But I don’t mind it,” he continued. “Everything today… it’s been new, yeah, but it’s good. You’re good.”

I swallowed, the honesty in his words catching me off guard. It was one thing to joke around, to let the banter cover up what was simmering underneath, but this felt different—like he was asking me to see him, really see him, and maybe let him see me in return.

For a moment, I didn’t know how to respond. There was a vulnerability in his gaze that mirrored the uncertainty I was feeling, a quiet plea hidden in his smile that made my heart skip. It wasn’t just a game anymore; it was something real, something that demanded a bit of courage I wasn’t sure I had.

Oscar’s usual cocky confidence had softened into something more tentative, almost as if he was waiting for me to say something that would make this strange, unexpected shift between us make sense. I could see it in the way his eyes flickered with unspoken questions, the way his hand hovered just a little closer to mine on the table, hesitant but hopeful.

He opened his mouth as if to say something but stopped, biting his lip in a rare moment of hesitation. I could feel the unsteady rhythm of my own breathing, matching the erratic beat of my heart. It was like standing on the edge of something, knowing that one step could change everything and still not being sure if I was ready to take it.

“I didn’t think… I mean, I didn’t expect this,” he finally said, his voice softer than I’d ever heard it. His fingers brushed mine, a barely-there touch that sent a shiver through me, and the simple contact felt more intimate than any of the flirting or banter we’d exchanged all day. “I’m not usually… like this.” He laughed, but it was shaky, almost self-conscious. “I’m just saying, you’re not the only one who’s kind of… thrown off.”

I glanced down at our almost-touching hands, the space between them feeling unbearably small and impossibly vast at the same time. The reality of what was happening—the shift from playful teasing to something deeper, more vulnerable—was terrifying and exhilarating. It was as if everything had turned upside down, leaving me with nothing to hold onto but the fragile, unspoken connection we’d built in the span of a few sun-soaked hours.

“I know what you mean,” I whispered, surprised at how raw my voice sounded. “I didn’t expect this either.” The words felt too small to capture the rush of emotions tangled inside me, but they were the most honest thing I could offer.

Oscar’s thumb grazed the back of my hand, a light, almost tentative touch, but it was enough to send a jolt of electricity straight through me. He smiled, a little lopsided and unsure, and it was so different from his usual bravado that it made my heart ache in a way I hadn’t anticipated.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he said quietly, and there was something so genuine in his tone that it knocked the breath out of me. “I’m glad we’re… whatever this is.” He gestured vaguely between us, as if trying to name the unnameable, the strange and beautiful thing that had sprung up between the jokes and the splashes and the shared looks that felt like secrets.

I nodded, the lump in my throat making it hard to speak. “Me too,” I managed, and the simple admission felt like a leap off that precarious edge we’d been teetering on. “I’m glad it’s… us.”

Oscar’s gaze softened, and for a split second, the weight of the moment hung between us, thick with unspoken possibilities. It felt like we were on the cusp of something important, something that neither of us was quite ready to fully grasp, and the vulnerability of it all was terrifying and exhilarating.

But then, in true Oscar fashion, he broke the tension with a grin that was equal parts charming and infuriating. “You know,” he said, leaning back in his chair and tapping his chin thoughtfully, “I’ve gotta admit, this whole ‘us’ thing is pretty great. But if you’re planning on crying, can you just give me a heads-up? I’m not emotionally equipped to handle that.”

I blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift from heart-to-heart to heart-to-humor. “Excuse me?” I laughed, trying to hide the relief that came with his playful deflection. “I’m not crying! And for the record, you’re the one who looks like you’re about to get misty-eyed.”

Oscar held up his hands in mock surrender, his grin widening. “Hey, no judgment. I just thought I’d bring tissues to our next deep and meaningful, you know? Maybe some popcorn, too. Really set the mood.”

I snorted, shoving his shoulder lightly, but the tension had eased, replaced by the familiar rhythm of our back-and-forth. “You’re impossible,” I said, shaking my head, but I couldn’t keep the smile off my face.

Oscar winked, clearly pleased with himself for lightening the mood. “Yeah, but I’m your kind of impossible, right?”

I rolled my eyes, but there was no denying the truth in his words. “Yeah, yeah, don’t let it go to your head,” I shot back, but my heart felt lighter, the strange, heady mix of vulnerability and humor making the moment feel just right.

He laughed, clinking his glass against mine one more time. “Deal. But just so you know, this isn’t over,” he said, his voice dipping into that teasing but sincere tone that was quickly becoming his signature. “This ‘us’ thing… it’s still happening.”

I met his gaze, feeling a surge of warmth and maybe a little bit of hope. “Yeah,” I said, my smile softening. “It definitely is.” And with that, we let the conversation drift back to laughter and lightness, both of us content to leave the door wide open for whatever might come next.

Just as I started to relax into the ease of the moment, Mae’s voice cut through the noise like a dramatic trumpet blast. “Oh my god, did anyone else just see that?” she exclaimed, practically bouncing out of her chair. She was clutching her glass like it was some kind of award she was presenting to the whole table, eyes wide with exaggerated shock.

Oscar and I both froze, caught like deer in headlights as everyone else turned to look at us, half amused and half confused. Mae’s eyes were sparkling with delight, clearly enjoying her self-appointed role as the dinner’s designated narrator of drama.

“Seriously, did no one catch that?” Mae continued, pointing between Oscar and me like she was conducting an investigative report. “That was, like, a full-on rom-com moment! Staring, smiling, subtle hand-touching—am I the only one paying attention to this masterpiece unfolding?”

I could feel my face heating up as the entire table’s attention zeroed in on us. Hattie snorted, trying and failing to suppress a laugh, while Edie gave Mae a playful shove. “Stop being so dramatic, Mae,” Edie said, rolling her eyes but grinning all the same. “It’s not a soap opera.”

Mae, undeterred, waved her hands theatrically, clearly reveling in the spotlight. “No, no, you guys don’t get it. This is prime content! I’ve seen less chemistry on TV shows that have been running for five seasons!” She looked at us with mock seriousness, as if she was on the brink of tears. “Honestly, I’m emotional. I think I need a moment.”

Oscar rubbed the back of his neck, half-embarrassed, half-amused by Mae’s antics. “Okay, Mae, take it down a notch,” he said, trying to sound exasperated, but the smile tugging at his lips betrayed him.

I tried to cover my face with my hands, laughing despite my mortification. “Oh my god, can we not make this a thing?”

Mae ignored me completely, turning to Nicole and Belle as if she were addressing a captivated audience. “Moms, did you see it? Do we need to start planning a wedding, or should I pace myself?”

Nicole chuckled, giving me a sympathetic smile as she sipped her wine. “Mae, sweetie, let them breathe. But I will say, I’m glad to see our Oscar isn’t just all talk.” She winked at me, clearly enjoying every second of this impromptu performance.

Belle, looking equally amused, raised her glass. “To young love… or whatever this is,” she teased, and the whole table erupted in laughter.

Oscar groaned, though he was clearly more entertained than annoyed. “Thanks, Mae. Really appreciate the live commentary,” he said, rolling his eyes but flashing me a quick, conspiratorial smile that sent a flutter through my chest.

He leaned closer, his voice low so only I could hear. “Don’t worry, I’ll get her back for that later,” he promised, his tone half-playful, half-serious, and I could feel the warmth of his breath on my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. I tried to play it cool, but the way he lingered, just a little closer than necessary, made my heart skip.

Meanwhile, Mae was still basking in the glow of her own theatrics, leaning back in her chair with a satisfied grin. “Honestly, you’re welcome. I’m just saying what we’re all thinking,” she quipped, flicking her hair over her shoulder like she was the star of the show.

“Can we get a replay, though?” Hattie chimed in, her voice dripping with mock seriousness. “Like, maybe a slow-mo version? I feel like I missed the pivotal moment.”

Edie, not one to be left out, waggled her eyebrows at me. “Yeah, can you guys just, like, do it again for the rest of us? We need to get the full experience.”

I buried my face in my hands, half laughing, half mortified. “You guys are the worst,” I muttered, but there was no real sting behind it. The entire scene was ridiculous, but it was the kind of ridiculousness that made me feel strangely at home, like I’d been dropped into the middle of this whirlwind of banter and suddenly found my place.

Oscar squeezed my shoulder lightly, his touch grounding me amidst the teasing chaos. “They’re just jealous,” he whispered, his voice edged with that same flirtatious charm that had been keeping me on my toes all day. “It’s not every day they get front-row seats to this level of entertainment.”

I shot him a look, trying to suppress a grin. “Oh, is that what this is? Entertainment?”

He shrugged, unabashed. “Well, it’s definitely not boring. And I think we’re pulling off the lead roles pretty well, don’t you?”

Mae pretended to dab at her eyes, clutching her napkin dramatically. “Look at them, already talking like a power couple. I can’t—my heart is too full.” She pointed a finger at us. “Y’all better invite me to the premiere of your inevitable Netflix series.”

“Mae, if you don’t dial it back, you’re getting written out in season two,” Oscar warned, his tone light but his eyes still fixed on me, a mix of amusement and something softer that made my pulse race.

Mae gasped, clutching her imaginary pearls like she’d just been gravely insulted. “You can’t cut out the comic relief! I’m the fan favorite. Besides, the show would be boring without me stirring the pot.” She leaned back with a smug smile, crossing her arms like she was daring anyone to challenge her.

Hattie snorted, jumping in without missing a beat. “Yeah, but we all know you’re the kind of character they kill off in a dramatic mid-season twist. Gotta keep the ratings up.”

Mae threw her head back, rolling her eyes with exaggerated flair. “Please, they wouldn’t dare. The viewers would riot.” She turned her attention back to us, still grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “And speaking of plot twists, when’s the big kiss scene? I mean, I’m just saying, it’s been teased for like, three episodes already.”

My jaw dropped, caught between mortification and laughter as Oscar choked on his drink, struggling to keep his composure. “Mae!” I squeaked, covering my face with my hands, feeling my cheeks burn hotter than the grill. “Can we not?”

Mae shrugged, completely unfazed. “I’m just being honest. The audience wants what it wants.” She glanced around the table, gesturing to everyone with an over-the-top flourish. “I mean, look at us. We’re all invested.”

Oscar rubbed his temples, but he was smiling, shaking his head at his sister’s relentless antics. “Mae, you’re officially banned from all future dinners. You’ve peaked as an agent of chaos.”

Mae shot him a smug look. “I’d like to see you try. I’m basically your PR manager at this point, and you should be grateful. I’m giving you the best subplot.”

Nicole chuckled, shaking her head at her kids. “Alright, enough, everyone. Let’s give them some peace. I think they’ve been roasted enough for one night.”

I breathed a sigh of relief, trying to regain some composure, but every time I glanced at Oscar, he was already looking at me, that easy, knowing smile still playing on his lips. Despite the theatrics, the jokes, and the lighthearted chaos of it all, there was an unmistakable comfort in being next to him, like we were in on some private joke the rest of the table was only half aware of.

As the conversation shifted back to other topics and plates clattered with second helpings, I found myself sneaking another glance at Oscar. He caught me looking and winked, leaning in just enough to whisper, “You good?”

I nodded, feeling that same flutter from earlier, the one that seemed to have settled somewhere deep in my chest. “Yeah,” I said, my voice light but sincere. “I think I’m better than good.”

But as the conversation around the table continued, the laughter and clinking of glasses filling the air, I couldn’t stop my mind from drifting back to Mae’s earlier comment—the one about the “big kiss scene” that had practically sent me into orbit. At the time, I’d brushed it off, laughing it away as another one of her over-the-top jokes. But now, with the evening winding down and Oscar still sitting close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating off him, the idea lingered, stubbornly refusing to be dismissed.

I glanced at him, catching the way he was half-listening to whatever Chris was saying about the grill, but his focus kept sneaking back to me, a subtle sideways glance here, a quiet smile there. It was like we were stuck in this unspoken loop, constantly circling each other without ever quite landing. And suddenly, Mae’s words didn’t seem so ridiculous. The thought of kissing Oscar—of actually closing that gap between us—wasn’t just some wild, far-off fantasy. It felt… possible. Real. And that was what scared me the most.

Because Mae wasn’t wrong—there was a tension between us, a pull that had been there all day, simmering beneath the surface. Every time Oscar leaned in a little too close, every shared look that lingered just a second too long, it was there, buzzing quietly, daring us to acknowledge it. I could feel it now, that quiet hum in the air that made every casual touch and playful nudge feel loaded, like we were teetering on the edge of something that could change everything.

The thought of kissing him—of actually letting myself take that leap—sent a rush of nerves and excitement crashing over me. What would it feel like? Would it be like all the other moments today, funny and light but with that undeniable spark? Or would it be something else entirely, something that would make it impossible to go back to just playful banter and harmless flirting?

I stole another glance at Oscar, watching the way his lips curved into a smirk as he teased Mae about something I couldn’t quite catch. It was infuriating how easily he could shift from serious to silly, how he could make me feel so at ease one second and then completely unsteady the next. I wondered if he was thinking about it, too—if the idea of us had crossed his mind, lingering like it was now in mine.

My thoughts were interrupted as Mae, ever the observant troublemaker, caught me staring. She wiggled her eyebrows and shot me a knowing grin, clearly reveling in her role as the self-appointed matchmaker of the night. I quickly looked away, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks, but the question she’d planted was still there, stubborn and insistent.

What would it be like, kissing Oscar?

It was a question that hovered between us, unasked but undeniable, and as the evening wore on, it only seemed to grow louder. And while I wasn’t sure of the answer, one thing was becoming clear: the idea of it wasn’t just Mae’s dramatic imagination running wild. It was mine too. And maybe, just maybe, it was only a matter of time before we found out for ourselves.

As the sun dipped lower, casting the backyard in soft hues of orange and pink, the vibe around the table shifted. Plates were cleared, glasses refilled, and the conversation became a gentle hum, winding down into the comfortable lull of a summer evening. The air was warm, carrying the faint, salty scent of the ocean just beyond the house. I could feel the day transitioning into something quieter, softer, like a whispered promise of what was to come.

Oscar nudged my arm gently, his smile easy and inviting. “Want to get out of here for a bit?” he asked, his voice low enough that it felt like a secret. “I think I’ve had my fill of Mae’s commentary for the night.”

I laughed, grateful for the excuse to escape the watchful eyes of his sisters. “Yeah, before she starts live-tweeting this,” I joked, grabbing my sandals and following him away from the table. He led us down the path that cut through the backyard, winding toward the beach. The sound of laughter and chatter faded behind us, replaced by the rhythmic crash of waves and the soft crunch of sand beneath our feet.

The sky was a watercolor canvas of fading light, the last streaks of daylight blending into deep blues and purples as we reached the shore. It was quiet here, the kind of quiet that feels intentional, like the world had pressed pause just for us. Oscar slipped off his shoes, and I followed suit, the cool, damp sand squishing pleasantly between my toes. It felt cheesy and cliché, like something out of a movie, but I didn’t care. It was perfect.

We walked in silence for a bit, side by side, our footsteps falling in sync as the waves lapped at the shore. Every so often, Oscar would kick at the sand, sending little sprays of it up in front of us, and I’d laugh, nudging him back with my shoulder. There was no rush, no destination; it was just us, drifting along the edge of the water like we were caught in our own little bubble.

Oscar glanced at me, his face soft in the twilight. “You know, I think this is the part where we’re supposed to talk about something deep and meaningful,” he said, his voice teasing but light, the kind of tone that made everything feel a little less serious, a little easier to handle.

I smiled, rolling my eyes but playing along. “Oh, right. This is the part where we share our hopes, dreams, and darkest secrets, right? Because nothing says ‘deep conversation’ like walking barefoot on the beach.”

“Exactly,” Oscar said, grinning. “But seriously, I’m glad you’re here. Tonight’s been… fun. Weird and chaotic, but fun.”

I nodded, feeling the truth of his words settle over me. “Yeah, it’s been… something,” I admitted, letting out a small laugh. “Honestly, I didn’t know what to expect, but this wasn’t it. In a good way.”

We walked a little further, the quiet between us no longer uncomfortable but filled with the soft roar of the ocean and the distant calls of seagulls. It felt like the perfect cliché—sunset, ocean waves, and just enough awkwardness to keep it from feeling too polished. Oscar stopped suddenly, bending down to pick up a small, smooth shell and handing it to me with a mock-serious expression.

“A souvenir,” he said, his eyes twinkling in the fading light. “To remember this incredibly cheesy moment.”

I took the shell, laughing at how ridiculous and oddly sweet the gesture was. “I’ll treasure it forever,” I said, mimicking his serious tone, holding the shell up like it was a precious gem. “And when I tell people about this night, I’ll say, ‘There was this guy, and he gave me a shell on a beach at sunset. It was painfully corny, but somehow it worked.’”

Oscar chuckled, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Hey, corny works sometimes. Especially if the right person’s involved.” He looked at me then, his smile fading just enough that I could see the sincerity underneath all the jokes. “I like this,” he said, his voice softer. “I like… us.”

My heart did a little flip, caught off guard by the quiet honesty of his words. It wasn’t dramatic or grand, just simple and real, and that made it even better. “I like us too,” I admitted, feeling the last bit of sunlight brush against my skin as the horizon swallowed it whole.

Oscar stepped closer, his shoulder brushing mine as we stood there, toes in the sand, watching the sky darken. It felt like we’d crossed some invisible line, one that had been waiting for us all day, and now, with the ocean as our only witness, it didn’t feel scary anymore. It felt right.

The waves crashed softly in the background, a rhythmic soundtrack to the unspoken feelings that hung between us. I expected another joke, something light to keep the moment easy, but instead, Oscar’s expression shifted, his smile fading into something more serious, more introspective. He glanced at the horizon, the last slivers of light reflecting in his eyes, before turning back to me.

“You know,” he started, his voice a little lower, almost hesitant, “about that whole ‘sharing secrets’ thing…”

I raised an eyebrow, expecting another playful jab, but his tone had changed. There was a weight to his words that made my heart pick up pace, and I could tell he was wrestling with something. “Yeah?” I prompted gently, unsure where he was going with this but sensing it was important.

Oscar let out a long breath, his gaze dropping to the sand as if he was trying to gather his thoughts. “There’s something I haven’t told you,” he began, rubbing the back of his neck—a nervous habit I hadn’t seen from him before. “It’s… kind of a big deal. And it’s something I don’t usually talk about when I first meet someone.”

I felt a flicker of concern, mixed with curiosity. “Okay,” I said softly, trying to encourage him without pushing too hard. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

He nodded, chewing on his lip for a moment before meeting my eyes. “So… I’m not just some random guy who likes to crash neighborhood dinners and play chicken in pools.” He paused, as if weighing his next words carefully. “I’m actually… a Formula One driver.”

I blinked, the words taking a moment to fully register. “Wait, what?” I said, half-laughing in disbelief, expecting him to crack a smile and tell me it was just another joke. But Oscar’s expression remained serious, his eyes searching mine for a reaction.

“I’m a Formula One driver,” he repeated, more firmly this time, his voice steady but laced with something vulnerable. “I race for a living. It’s my job, my whole life, really. I’ve been doing it for years, and it’s… well, it’s a lot. I didn’t want to bring it up right away because, honestly, it changes how people see me. And I like how things are right now. Just… you and me, without all that other stuff.”

My mind reeled, trying to connect the dots between the Oscar I’d spent the day with and the image of a high-speed, glamorous world I’d only ever seen on TV. I had a million questions, but the first one that slipped out was, “Are you serious?”

He nodded, his expression softening at my shock. “Yeah, I am. I travel all the time—races in different countries, press, sponsors, all of it. It’s not just a job; it’s this crazy, intense lifestyle, and it’s a lot to deal with. That’s why I didn’t want to bring it up. I wanted to just be… me. Not the guy on the track.”

I stared at him, the quiet, easy-going Oscar who had been joking and flirting with me all day, now suddenly framed in a completely different light. I tried to picture him in a racing suit, helmet on, speeding at breakneck pace in front of thousands of fans. The thought was surreal, but the sincerity in his eyes grounded me, reminding me that he was still the same guy who had been by my side all day.

“Wow,” I breathed, still trying to wrap my head around it. “I mean… that’s incredible. And intense. I can’t even imagine…”

Oscar shrugged, his expression a mix of pride and exhaustion. “It’s got its moments. The adrenaline, the rush, it’s amazing. But it’s also lonely sometimes. It’s hard to know who’s around for me and who’s around for what I do. That’s why it’s been so… nice today. Just hanging out, no expectations, no pressure.”

I nodded, my mind still racing to keep up, but my heart settled on one thing: the vulnerability in his voice. “I get why you didn’t say anything,” I said softly. “I’m glad you told me, though. And for what it’s worth, it doesn’t change anything for me. I still see you the same way.”

Oscar’s shoulders relaxed, a hint of relief passing over his face. “Thanks. That means a lot,” he said quietly. “I just wanted you to know who I really am. Not the headlines, not the highlight reels. Just… Oscar.”

I reached out, squeezing his hand lightly. “Well, Oscar, the Formula One driver,” I teased gently, “you’re kind of stuck with me now. So I hope you’re ready for that.”

He laughed, a sound filled with genuine warmth, and squeezed my hand back. “I think I can handle it,” he said, his smile returning. “But I promise, no pit stops on our beach walks.”

We kept walking, but now my mind was buzzing with questions I couldn’t quite hold back. The idea of Oscar—this funny, charming guy—also being a professional race car driver was a lot to process. My curiosity got the better of me, and I turned to him, trying to piece together this new version of him I was just starting to understand.

“So, what’s it like?” I asked, my voice tinged with excitement and genuine intrigue. “I mean, racing. The whole lifestyle… is it really as glamorous as it looks?”

Oscar smiled, his eyes distant for a moment as if recalling a million memories at once. “Sometimes it is. The travel, the fans, the adrenaline of the race—it’s all surreal. But it’s not always as glamorous as people think. There’s a lot of pressure, a lot of sleepless nights. You’re constantly on the move, training, dealing with the media, and sometimes you barely get a moment to yourself.”

I nodded, hanging onto every word. “Do you ever get scared? I mean, it’s not exactly a nine-to-five job.”

He glanced at me, his expression thoughtful. “Every time I get in the car, there’s this moment of fear, like a little voice in the back of my mind reminding me how dangerous it is. But once the lights go out and the race starts, it’s all instinct. You don’t really think—you just drive. It’s weird, but the fear kind of becomes part of the thrill.”

I could hear the passion in his voice, and it struck me how much more there was to him than I’d realized. “Do you ever… wish it was different? Like, that maybe you could slow down?”

Oscar chuckled softly, kicking at the sand as we walked. “Sometimes, yeah. It’s exhausting. But then there’s this moment when you’re flying down the track, everything’s a blur, and it’s just you and the car. Nothing else matters. It’s the most alive I’ve ever felt.” He paused, turning to me with a small, earnest smile. “And then there are nights like this, where I get to just be a normal guy hanging out on the beach. It’s a nice change of pace.”

I found myself smiling, charmed by his openness. “I can’t even imagine living like that—always on the go, never really having time to just… be. But it sounds incredible, in a crazy sort of way.”

“It is,” he agreed, looking out at the ocean, the moonlight catching the edges of his profile. “But it’s also hard to let people in. Everyone has expectations, and sometimes it’s hard to know who actually sees you and who just sees the guy in the helmet.”

I squeezed his hand, wanting to offer some kind of comfort. “Well, I see you, Oscar. And not just the driver. I see the guy who’s annoyingly persistent, who’s actually kind of sweet when he wants to be.” I nudged him playfully. “And the guy who’s really bad at keeping secrets, apparently.”

He laughed, a genuine, relieved sound that made my heart swell. “Yeah, I guess I’m not as mysterious as I thought.” He paused, then added, “But I’m glad you know. I wanted you to know.”

I studied him, feeling like I was seeing Oscar in an entirely new light—not just the charming guy who had been teasing me all day, but someone with layers, with dreams and fears that ran deeper than I’d ever guessed. “Thanks for telling me,” I said softly. “It means a lot that you’d share all this with me.”

Oscar smirked, but there was a hint of shyness behind it. “Yeah, well, you’ve got this way of making me spill my guts. You should be careful—I might start telling you my deepest, darkest secrets.”

I laughed, nudging him with my shoulder. “Oh, don’t tempt me. I’ve got a lot of questions, you know. Like, what’s the most embarrassing thing you’ve ever done in front of a crowd? Or do you have a superstitious pre-race ritual? Maybe something involving, like, wearing your socks inside out for good luck?”

He groaned, but the playful gleam in his eyes told me he was enjoying this. “Socks inside out? That’s rookie level. I’m way more sophisticated—think lucky underwear, a very specific breakfast, and a pep talk to my car that would make me sound insane if anyone heard it.”

I snorted, covering my mouth to stifle the laugh. “You talk to your car? Please tell me you’ve named it.”

Oscar looked mock-offended, clutching his chest dramatically. “Of course I’ve named it! What kind of driver would I be if I didn’t? But that’s classified information—I can’t just give away my car’s name on the first beach walk.”

I rolled my eyes, still giggling at the idea of him having full-on conversations with his race car. “I think you’re just scared to admit you’ve named it something ridiculous like ‘Lightning McQueen’ or ‘Speedy McSpeedface.’”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “I’ll have you know my car’s name is very dignified and deeply meaningful,” he said, trying to keep a straight face but failing miserably. “And it definitely doesn’t sound like a character from a kids’ movie.”

I raised an eyebrow, teasing him back. “Uh-huh. Sure. And do you also tuck it in at night and read it bedtime stories?”

Oscar threw his head back in laughter, his hand squeezing mine. “You’re killing me here. But hey, maybe you can come see it sometime—if you’re good, I’ll even let you meet her.”

“Oh, meeting the car? Wow, that sounds serious,” I teased, pretending to be deeply flattered. “Next thing you know, you’ll be inviting me to the races, front-row seats and all.”

Oscar grinned, his eyes twinkling under the moonlight. “Keep playing your cards right, and you never know. I might just need a good luck charm in the stands. Besides,” he leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a flirty whisper, “it’d be a shame not to have the prettiest girl at the track cheering me on.”

I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks again, the casual way he flirted throwing me off balance every time. “You’ve really perfected the smooth-talking driver act, haven’t you?” I teased, raising an eyebrow but unable to stop the grin tugging at my lips.

Oscar smirked, his confidence unwavering. “What can I say? When you’ve got someone worth impressing, you pull out all the stops.”

I rolled my eyes, but the butterflies in my stomach were in full flight. “Well, I’m not that easy to impress. You might need more than just a fancy car and smooth lines.”

He pretended to think it over, scratching his chin dramatically. “Hmm, okay. Let’s see… I’ve got fast cars, some world travel under my belt, and a pretty decent sense of humor, if I do say so myself. Oh, and I’m great at chicken fights in the pool.” He gave me a sideways glance, his smile playful but with a hint of sincerity beneath it. “But if that’s not enough, I guess I’ll just have to keep trying.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “Yeah, keep working on it. I’m a tough crowd.”

Oscar slowed his steps, his voice turning softer as he leaned a little closer. “I like a challenge.”

His words hung in the air between us, and for a moment, the playful banter gave way to something a little deeper. There was that same flicker of vulnerability from earlier, like he was letting his guard down just a bit more, and it made my heart skip. I wasn’t sure what to say, so I just met his gaze, feeling the intensity of the moment settle between us like a quiet hum.

“Careful,” I finally said, trying to keep the mood light even though my pulse was racing. “You might bite off more than you can chew.”

Oscar grinned, but his eyes were still locked on mine, the flirty bravado softening into something more genuine. “I think I can handle it,” he said quietly, and there was something in his tone that made my breath catch, like this wasn’t just another joke, another flirtation. It was a real promise.

Before I could respond, he reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. The touch was so casual, yet it sent a rush of warmth through me, leaving me a little breathless. “You’re making this easy,” he said, his voice low, almost teasing, but his gaze was steady, holding mine with a kind of quiet intensity that made my heart race.

“Easy?” I managed to say, trying to sound composed but failing miserably.

He nodded, his smile widening just a bit. “Yeah. You make it easy to want to keep trying.”

I swallowed, the weight of his words settling over me. It felt like we were on the verge of something bigger, something that went beyond the playful teasing and light-hearted flirting. And as cheesy as it sounded, standing there with the ocean breeze in my hair and the moonlight casting soft shadows around us, I couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this was the kind of moment where everything could change.

But instead of saying anything profound, I just smiled, feeling the warmth of his hand still lingering near my cheek. “Well, if you’re trying to win me over with flattery and moonlit walks on the beach, you’re off to a decent start.”

Oscar chuckled, dropping his hand but staying close. “Good to know. I’ll keep that in mind for next time.” He paused, glancing at the ocean before looking back at me with that same mix of playfulness and sincerity. “You ready to head back?”

I nodded, feeling the tension in my chest ease as we started walking again, the easy rhythm between us falling back into place. “Yeah, but don’t think this lets you off the hook. You’ve still got some impressing to do.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Challenge accepted.”

And as we made our way back up the beach, the stars twinkling above and the sound of the waves following us, I couldn’t help but feel that this night—this cheesy, corny, perfect night—was only the beginning of something even better. There was an easy warmth between us now, a quiet understanding that whatever this was, we were both on board. As we reached the house, the familiar noise of chatter and laughter spilled out onto the patio, pulling us back into the lively fold of everyone gathered around.

The second we stepped onto the deck, Mae was the first to spot us, her eyes lighting up like she’d just won the gossip jackpot. “Well, well, well, look who decided to rejoin the party,” she called out, clapping her hands together in mock celebration. “Did you two lovebirds enjoy your romantic stroll under the moonlight?”

Oscar shot her a warning look, but it only made her grin wider. “Mae, do you ever get tired of hearing yourself talk?” he quipped, trying to sound exasperated but failing to hide his smile.

Hattie, never one to miss an opportunity, leaned back in her chair, her arms crossed with a knowing smirk. “Oh, come on, Oscar. We saw you guys sneaking off together. What was it? A deep, soul-searching chat? Confessions of undying love?”

Edie snorted, adding her two cents with a dramatic gasp. “Wait, did he finally break out the big romantic moves? Did he tell you about his tragic backstory and show you his sensitive side?”

I laughed, shaking my head but feeling my cheeks flush under the teasing. “Wow, you guys really have an active imagination,” I said, trying to play it off casually. “We were just… talking.”

“Talking,” Mae repeated, her tone dripping with mock suspicion. “Sure, sure. That’s what they all say before the dramatic kiss in the rain scene.”

Oscar rolled his eyes, but he was clearly more amused than annoyed. “For your information, Mae, we were just enjoying a peaceful walk without all the peanut gallery commentary,” he shot back, though his playful glare did little to stop the relentless teasing.

“Oh, right,” Hattie said, putting on an exaggerated, dreamy voice. “Staring into each other’s eyes, holding hands, whispering sweet nothings—totally normal, everyday stuff.”

Edie gave an exaggerated sigh, wiping a fake tear from her eye. “I swear, this is better than any rom-com. I feel blessed to witness it in real time.”

Oscar groaned, rubbing his temples but unable to keep the smile off his face. “You guys are the worst,” he said, shaking his head, but the laughter in his eyes was unmistakable.

Hattie leaned in, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she gave Oscar a nudge. “So, did you tell her your big secret yet?” she asked, her tone half-joking but laced with just enough seriousness to make it feel like there was more to it. “You know, the one where you’re not just some guy who likes moonlit walks and cheesy flirting?”

Oscar rolled his eyes, but his shoulders tensed slightly. “Yeah, Hattie. I told her.”

Hattie smirked, turning her attention to me with a knowing look. “Well, good. Now you’ve seen the full Oscar package: charming flirt, terrible dancer, and, oh yeah, a race car driver who’s apparently allergic to being straightforward about it.”

I laughed, catching the hint of truth beneath her teasing. “Yeah, he told me. It was quite the plot twist,” I said, shooting Oscar a playful glance. “I mean, I thought I was just hanging out with some guy who likes chicken fights in pools, and then bam! Turns out he’s a high-speed adrenaline junkie.”

Oscar let out a half-hearted groan, but I could see the smile tugging at his lips. “See? This is why I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. Now I’m the guy who goes from chicken fights to explaining how I don’t die doing my job.”

Edie leaned forward, her grin wide. “Oh, come on. You love it. And honestly, I think it’s pretty cool she didn’t bolt when you told her. That’s a win in my book.”

I shrugged, feeling oddly proud of myself for rolling with the revelation. “I mean, you could’ve told me you were a secret agent or something, and I’d probably still be here. But don’t get any ideas—I’m not driving any getaway cars for you.”

Hattie raised her glass in mock solemnity. “To not scaring her off with the ‘I drive at 200 mph for a living’ thing. Honestly, it’s about time someone just saw you for, you know, you.”

Oscar smiled, his eyes flickering with gratitude. “Thanks, Hattie. And yeah,” he turned back to me, squeezing my shoulder lightly, “I’m glad you’re here. Even if my sisters are determined to embarrass me at every turn.”

I laughed, leaning into the warmth of his side hug. “Hey, I’m just glad I got to hear the big secret firsthand. And for the record, you’re a lot more than just the guy on the track.”

Mae pretended to wipe away a tear, her voice cracking with fake emotion. “Look at them, so supportive. I’m not crying, you’re crying.”

Oscar groaned again, but his eyes never left mine, filled with a quiet, earnest appreciation that made the teasing worth it. “You guys are relentless.”

Edie smirked, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms. “Hey, you can’t blame us. We’ve got a front-row seat to the Oscar Romance Special. We’re just waiting for the next episode, preferably with more kissing.”

I nearly choked on my drink, caught off guard by her bluntness, and Oscar’s face turned a shade of pink I’d never seen before. “Edie,” he said, trying to sound stern but failing as a laugh escaped him. “I think you’re confusing our lives with one of your trashy reality shows.”

Mae jumped in, wagging her finger dramatically. “Excuse me, but if you’re going to give us reality TV vibes, at least make it entertaining. We need more dramatic confessions and less awkward hovering. I mean, seriously, when’s the big kiss scene?”

I looked at Oscar, my face heating up at the thought, but I decided to play along. “Well, Oscar, if you’ve got any more romantic revelations planned, you’d better warn me so I can, you know, brace myself.”

Oscar leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper just for me. “Oh, don’t worry. I’m full of surprises. And if you think that was my best move, you’re in for a wild ride.”

I raised an eyebrow, trying to keep my cool but failing to hide my smile. “Wild ride? Wow, is that a racing pun or are you just that confident?”

He chuckled, giving me a quick wink. “Both. But you’ll have to stick around to find out which one’s more accurate.”

Mae let out a dramatic sigh, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “Oh my god, just kiss already! You’re both practically oozing romantic tension. It’s painful to watch.”

Oscar’s grin turned devilish, and he leaned back, his eyes flicking to me with a playful glint. “See what I have to put up with? I swear, it’s like having a peanut gallery that’s also my personal cheer squad.”

I nudged him with my elbow, unable to keep from laughing. “You should be grateful. Not everyone gets this kind of enthusiastic support.”

He nodded, feigning deep thought. “You’re right. Maybe I should embrace it. I mean, it’s not every day you get heckled into flirting.”

Hattie jumped in, pointing her fork at us. “Yeah, and if you’re going to flirt, at least do it properly. We want fireworks, people.”

Oscar threw his hands up in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. I’ll work on my technique. But I can’t promise anything with all these eyes watching.”

I rolled my eyes, but the playful energy between us was impossible to ignore. “No pressure or anything,” I said, smirking at him. “But apparently, you’ve got a lot to live up to.”

Oscar leaned closer, his smile turning sly. “I thrive under pressure,” he said, his voice low and smooth, and I felt a shiver run down my spine. “Guess I’ll just have to make it memorable.”

His words hung in the air, flirtatious yet full of that quiet promise that left my heart racing. And as the night went on, filled with more teasing and playful banter, I realized that every joke, every look, was just another layer to the electric, unpredictable thing that was building between us.

Mae clinked her glass dramatically, interrupting my thoughts. “To Oscar, the wannabe Romeo, and to his leading lady, who’s clearly got the patience of a saint. Cheers to the saga we didn’t know we needed.”

I laughed, lifting my glass and meeting Oscar’s gaze. “Cheers,” I said, feeling the thrill of whatever this was settle comfortably around us. Because no matter how ridiculous or flirtatious it got, there was no denying that this was one ride I didn’t want to get off anytime soon.

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────────────

taglist! @mingyusbigrighttoe @theblueblub @demandealalune @linnygirl09 @fix5idiots

[grims-sunshine]

🤍 I've got the Magic Touch 🤍

Summary: Gale catches you reading an erotic novel. While you read it, he takes your pleasure into his own hands.

Pairing: Gale x Tav

Word Count: 1.9k

Content: Established relationship; takes place after the events of the game; f!reader; breast groping; some fingering

Content for the novel: Kinda generic, cliché smut; mostly making out and a blowjob

Note: This is a reupload because the fic wasn't showing in the tags. Usually I dislike doing this, but to be totally honest I put a ton of effort into this fic and was pretty sad when literally only one person saw it because Tumblr is a bully. So here's to hoping it works out this time.

Felix pushed Sylvanna up to the wall, finally taking what he'd been craving for so long and giving her what she'd been waiting for ever since that one night.

"I just can't control myself around you," he whispered, the words hardly more than a deep growl from within his chest.

"Then don't," Sylvanna breathed in response, offering herself to him fully.

"What are you reading there, love?"

Gale's voice abruptly pulls you out of the book you've been reading. Startled by his sudden presence, you snap it shut, praying to whichever god will listen that he didn't take a peek at the pages before making himself known.

You're usually comfortable around Gale, but something about him finding out that you're reading filthy erotica in the middle of the day fills you with embarrassment.

"Oh, it's nothing special. Just some old tome I've picked up from the bookstore earlier," you lie, cursing yourself for the way your voice cracks. You're not a great liar, and Gale knows you too well to be easily fooled.

"Do you need anything?" You add the question, hoping it'll be enough to distract him.

When you lean back head far to look at Gale, looming over you, staring back with an amused expression.

"Why? Can't a wizard just walk into his own reading room anymore?" Gale asks with a chuckle, holding up his hands. He walks around the small couch in the middle of the room to sit next to you. You notice him prying at the book, so you promptly cover it with your hands.

"No, no, I'm just asking," you say, leaning in to press a quick kiss to Gale's cheek. "It's your home, of course you're always welcome here."

"Well, you've been spending a lot of time in here. I'd almost consider it your personal space by now," Gale says with a fond smile.

He's not wrong. This has quickly become one of your favorite spots in the whole tower, ever since you moved back to Waterdeep with him. It's comfortable, cozy, and perfect for rainy and cold days when you don't want to sit outside while reading.

Not to mention, the couch is big enough to fit the both of you on it. This has led to many evenings spent in here, doing things far more interesting than reading books with each other, which certainly adds to this being your favourite space.

"So, what's your book about?" Gale continues. "You seemed rather… Engrossed by it just now." You should've known he wouldn't just drop it. On the surface it seems like an innocent enough question. You often tell each other about your latest reads, discussing what's happening at great length. But this time, there's something else hidden under the innocent act, that you can't quite pin down. Maybe it's the slight smile tugging at his lips, or the glint in his eyes when he looks at you.

You shrug. "Just some cheesy, run of the mill romance. You'd probably find it rather boring." You try to sound as casual as you can, but even you can tell it's failing terribly. Gale isn't stupid, after all.

"Romance, huh?" Gale nods, giving you a look that says he doesn't believe a word you're saying. "So, which part of the romance has you squirming and pressing your thighs together?" He gives you a smirk.

You feel the heat rush to your face in an instant and Gale laughs upon seeing your expression, pulling you into a hug. "I'm not judging you. I was genuinely curious about what you're reading. It really did seem like you were enjoying yourself, so I wanted to know what got you so… worked up." He says it with a sincerity that makes your embarrassment melt away.

You uncover the book that you'd been hiding under your hands up until now and hand it to Gale.

The cover alone would probably be enough for anyone to tell what the book's contents are: A woman in a silky robe that barely covers her body, leaning against a faceless male figure, posessively holding her in his arms.

Gale inspects the cover, then turns his attention back to you. "What's it about?"

You sigh. "Well, it's this woman… Who becomes the apprentice of a powerful wizard… And she lives in his tower and they… You know."

You feel another rush of embarrassment as Gale nods, raising his eyebrows. "Interesting."

You sigh, feeling the way your cheeks flush. "I'm not just reading it because you're a wizard and I'm fantasizing about you or anything like that. It's just… Well, the smut scenes are pretty good," you admit, averting your eyes.

"Oh, I wasn't thinking that. Although I certainly wouldn't mind you fantasizing about me," Gale assures you, chuckling a little. "But I am intrigued now. Is it really that good?"

You nod. "Yes, it's pretty good. You can read it once I'm done, if you'd like." This isn't Gale's usual taste in books, but he seems interested enough.

Gale thinks for a moment, shakes his head. "Actually, I've got a much better idea." He leans against the back of the couch, half lying down, and pats the space between his legs. "Come here," he says. He looks up at you with a warm smile.

You can guess what he has in mind already. This is how you usually sit when you're reading a book together. It seems like a good enough solution -- You can continue reading, and perhaps Gale's curiosity will be sated as well.

You lie down with your back against Gale's chest. He wraps his arms around you and presses a kiss to your temple before comfortably resting his head on your shoulder.

You're nestled in Gale's embrace, surrounded by his warmth. It's your favourite feeling in the world, being comfortable and safe in his arms.

He hands your book back to you and you open it where you last left off, beginning to read once again.

Felix didn't waste any time giving in to his desires. He pulled Sylvanna into a passionate kiss, their bodies practically melting together.

Sylvanna felt how hard he was, pressing up against her. She cupped him with her hand and began to slowly stroke him, earning her a low moan from him.

Your attention drifts from the words on the page to the sensation of Gale's lips, soft against your neck, followed by the subtle scratching of his beard over your skin as he leaves a trail of kisses there. Your breath hitches and you let your head sink back to grant him more access. To your surprise, Gale stops almost immediately and you feel him smile against your skin, almost smug.

"Keep reading," he says, his voice a little lower than usual, before continuing his trail of kisses. You can sense a hint of amusement in his voice -- He's enjoying this.

So this was his plan. You decide to go along with it, turning your focus back on the book once more.

Sylvanna dropped to her knees, fumbling to get Felix's pants off him. She was desperate to taste him, to be the one taking the lead for once.

S he looked up at Felix as she began slowly stroking his cock before licking a stripe up the shaft, teasing the tip with her tongue.

Once again, your reading is interrupted when you feel Gale's hands travel across your body, grasping at your breasts through the fabric of your shirt. You gasp as his touch goes bolder, hiking up your shirt just enough to be able to reach underneath it. His hands find your breasts once again, massaging them and gently tugging at your nipples, rolling them between his fingers.

It makes it all the harder to focus on your book, when all you want is to sink into Gale, close your eyes and let his touch take you to oblivion.

His movements stop again, shattering you bliss. "Try to stay focused, love," Gale whispers, followed by a kiss pressed right underneath your ear. It takes you a moment to catch on, to clear the fog that's been taking over your brain at his touch. The book.

You try to clear your mind and take in the words, but you're far too distracted by Gale to fully make sense of what you're reading. It's more like your eyes absentmindedly skim the pages while your thoughts keep slipping away.

When she finally put him in her mouth, Felix groaned deeply.

As she started sucking him off, he buried his hand in her hair, gently leading her movements.

He cursed under his breath. "Fuck, you're perfect. I should've given in to this desire sooner."

Gale's hands wander down your body, gently pulling your legs apart and stroking your thighs. As one of his hands pushes past the hem of your pants and underwear you feel a rush of excitement. His fingers slowly begin parting your folds and you can't help but let out a small moan.

You can only imagine how wet you must be already from everything. It only gets worse when he begins rubbing slow, deliberate circles around your clit. You let out a small whimper and your hips involuntarily buckle up against him, causing Gale to use his free hand to gently push you back down, holding you in place.

"You haven't turned that page in a while," Gale notes, sounding amused. He doesn't stop what he's doing this time and you thank the gods for it. You're not sure what you'd do if he stopped touching you right now.

You only hum in response, hardly making sense of his words.

One of his fingers finds your hole, pushing a single digit inside and you let out another whimper.

"Well? Won't you keep going?" Gale asks again, although by the tone of his voice, you're sure he knows the answer already.

"Can't… Focus," you finally manage to say, and Gale hums in response. You feel the vibrations in his chest and somehow it only makes you even dizzier.

"I suppose you've gotten far enough," Gale says, grazing your flushed cheek with his lips.

He uses the hand that had been holding you in place to grab the book and set it aside.

"Well, this allows me to move a little better, so I don't mind either." He smirks and pulls you a little closer against him.

You can feel his own arousal pressing against your back, but your attention quickly gets pulled away when Gale fully pushes his first finger inside of you, slowly pumping it in and out. Your hips push against him once again, but he doesn't press them down this time, allowing you to fully embrace the pleasure.

Gale adds a second finger, picking up the pace along with it.

Your head rolls back against his shoulder, somehow finding Gale's lips for a passionate kiss. You squirm in his arms, whimpers growing louder as Gale manages to hit the spot that sends you over the edge.

He continues to pump his fingers while you shake and cry out in pleasure, allowing you to ride out your orgasm.

Your body finally relaxes and you sink back against Gale, feeling lightheaded. Gale holds you close, pressing soft kisses against your temple as he lets you catch your breath.

"That was incredible," you manage to say after a while, finally able to form words again.

"Agreed," Gale says with a smile. "Although I hope you're up for a second round. There's something I could use a little help with."

[anonymousewrites]

A Not-So-Disastrous Romance (Book 1) Chapter Twenty-One

Kusuo Saiki x Reader

Chapter Twenty-One: Adventures in London

Summary: Kusuke uses Saiki's one weakness against him: (Y/N).

            “Kusuo, come to my research lab,” said Kusuke, smiling at Saiki. “I want to show you something.”

            After being dragged around London and losing the pieces of his receiver (because of his father, unsurprisingly), Saiki finally had his dampener fixed and could control himself and his abilities once more. Unfortunately, Kusuke’s mind still couldn’t be read due to the new device he’d created (which was frustrating for Saiki since his brother was always cooking up some new scheme).

            “Why can’t we go with you?” asked Mr. Saiki.

            “I want to see where you spend your days,” said Mrs. Saiki.

            “You can enjoy London by yourselves now,” said Kusuke. “I got you a reservation at a restaurant with great roast beef.”

            Mr. Saiki looked away nervously and addressed his wife. “Do you want to go on a date? I wouldn’t mind.”

            “Me? I wouldn’t mind, either,” said Mrs. Saiki shyly.

            “This isn’t your first date.”

            Still, Kusuke’s suggestion won, and Mr. and Mrs. Saiki disappeared for a nice date in London. That left Saiki and Kusuke together.

            “Those two never change,” said Kusuke as he started leading Saiki into the city.

            “What is your intention?” questioned Saiki instantly. “I have no interest in your lab.”

            “Let’s play rock-paper-scissors,” said Kusuke instead.

            “Don’t ignore me,” said Saiki.

            “Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!” said Kusuke. He played scissors, which lost against Saiki’s rock. “I lost,” said Kusuke, an awkward smile on his face.

            “Are you happy now? I’m going,” said Kusuo, turning to head away.

            “My record against you is zero wins and 725 losses now,” said Kusuke. “Your winning percentage is the lowest when you play rock. Well, I guess that’s because I chose to play scissors only 104 times. I have lost the word games thirty-1 times. I have also lost shogi fifty-nine times, chess ten times, and video games 189 times. I have also lost mah-jongg four times and the memory game seven times.”

            If (Y/N) was here, they’d comment on his obsession. That thought lightened Saiki’s mood.

            “There are others, too. Altogether, how many times have I lose against you?” continued Kusuke. “My total record against you is zero wins and 4,254 losses.”

            (Y/N) would call this creepy, decided Saiki fondly. Still, what is he scheming this time?

            “Hey, Kusuo, will you teleport us to this address and room?” asked Kusuke, holding out a paper.

            Saiki narrowed his eyes. “No.”

            “I’ll tell Mom and Dad if you don’t,” said Kusuke, smiling. “Don’t you want them to have a good time and know we’re having a good time?’

            Weaponizing Mom being upset at us. What a dirty trick, thought Saiki. “Whatever.” He took the paper, Kusuke put his hand on Saiki’s shoulder, and the pair disappeared and reappeared.

            “Wow, teleportation really is amazing,” said Kusuke.

            “Where are we? A hotel room? Are we in London—” His eyes widened in alarm as his heightened senses heard voices in the next room over—all very familiar. “That can’t be. I must have misheard.” A sweat drop appeared behind his head.

            “Did you figure it out already? Correct!” said Kusuke. He grinned creepily. “They are in the next room.”

            In the next room over, Nendou leaned out the window. “Wow, runt, pinky, look at this! The buildings look like drawings!”

            “Why did we have to come here for a surprise?” wondered Kaidou.

            “It’s for Kusuo,” said (Y/N). “But I’m just hoping he feels well. He wasn’t in school because he was sick…” They knew the real reason, but their concern was immense either way.

            In the other room, Saiki glared at Kusuke. “Why are they here!?”

            He was torn between annoyance and suspicion. Not only were Nendou and Kaidou troublesome at the best of times (though he was friends with them even if he would never admit it), but Saiki hadn’t expected Kusuke to involve (Y/N), and yet there they were, still worried about him. Saiki didn’t want Kusuke to pull (Y/N) into any of his schemes, and that irritated him immensely. (Still, the inkling of relief to have a person he cared about so deeply there with him still made an appearance).

            “I summoned them,” said Kusuke, smiling innocently. “I called them a day before your arrival. I asked them to come to London to surprise you. I sent them plane tickets.”

            “You’re kidding, they wouldn’t have—” Saiki interrupted himself. “Well, they—” Nendou and Kaidou, dumb as they were at times “—would. But (Y/N) should’ve known better.”

            “Really? They were the most worried about you.” Kusuke grinned. “ ‘Is Kusuo alright?’ They really seem to care.”

            Saiki glared at Kusuke. The last thing he needed was his brother figuring out anything about his feelings and interfering in his (nonexistent) love life.

            “Why did you bring them here?” demanded Saiki.

            “Let’s play a game, Kusuo,” said Kusuke.

            “A game?” Saiki curled one hand into a fist and punched it into the other.

            Not intimidated, Kusuke continued, “Let’s play tag in London.”

            “…What?” Saiki deadpanned even more than normal.

            “I lost rock-paper-scissors. I will be it,” said Kusuke. “The time limit is three hours. As long as you don’t leave London, you can take buses, taxis, or subways. Well, sounds like fun, right?”

            “What is the point? London is larger than the twenty-three wards of Tokyo,” said Saiki.

            “You will play with Kaidou and Nendou as well as (L/N) so that you can’t use your powers,” said Kusuke.

            “I don’t want to play,” said Saiki.

            “You don’t care what happens to those three? With one signal, I can make those two explore London and return to Japan,” said Kusuke.

            “(Y/N) would want to see me,” said Saiki. “They wouldn’t go along with it.”

            “If you win, I’ll treat you to afternoon tea in this hotel,” said Kusuke, knowing Saiki’s sweet tooth was his biggest weakness. Or, almost.

            “…What happens if you win?” said Saiki. He really wanted afternoon tea and the confections that came with it, but first he needed to understand Kusuke’s angle on top of just getting a win on the board.

            Kusuke smiled brightly. “If I win, I’ll tell (L/N) you have a crush on them.”

            Saiki’s jaw dropped open. What a brutal blow from Kusuke.

            “Did you think it was hidden? It’s obvious,” said Kusuke, waving a hand. “As soon as they said your first name and mentioned your receiver, I knew you were open with them. The pieces were simple to put together.” He grinned. “So, what do you say?”

            “We’re playing tag.” Saiki could not let Kusuke win—not if he wanted sweets and for his feelings to remain hidden. He wasn’t ready to admit anything, and he wouldn’t let Kusuke of all people do it for him.

l

            Saiki and Kusuke opened the door to the room (Y/N), Kaidou, and Nendou had been stuck in.

            “Hey, pal!” cried Nendou excitedly.

            “Did we surprise you?” said Kaidou, grinning. “We’re in London.”

            “How are you feeling, Saiki?” asked (Y/N), frowning.

            “I’m fine,” said Saiki, nodding and pointing to the repaired receiver.

            (Y/N) visibly relaxed and smiled. “I’m glad.”

            “Now come on, we have to get going,” said Saiki.

            “Huh?” said (Y/N), tilting their head.

            “We’re playing tag,” said Kusuke with a wide grin.

            “Tag?” asked (Y/N), Kaidou, and Nendou.

            “I will be it, and Kusuo will hide. You three need to help him,” said Kusuke.

            “What about the surprise?” asked Kaidou in confusion.

            “He was surprised! We did it!” said Kusuke.

            “That was it?” said Kaidou.

            Knowing Saiki wouldn’t get involved with this of his own volition, (Y/N) looked at him. “You got bribed with sweets, didn’t you, Kusuo?”

            “Afternoon tea,” admitted Saiki.

            (Y/N) chuckled but smiled. “Alright, I’ll help. What are the rules?”

            “The time limit is three hours,” said Kusuke. “You can go anywhere within the borders of London. You can take buses, taxis, and subways. Get ready, start!” He pressed the start of a timer. “I will begin searching in thirty minutes. Run!”

            “Let’s go,” said Saiki, immediately grabbing (Y/N)’s wrist and hurrying to the street below.

            “What is this, Saiki? I don’t understand,” said Kaidou.

            Saiki took a map from a stand and glanced over it. “I’m sorry to involve you, but just shut up and follow me. This is a serious game.” Too much was on the line to mess around (sweets and his feelings).

            “Don’t worry, Kusuo, we have your back,” said (Y/N) brightly.

            “Isn’t this too easy? London is larger than Tokyo’s twenty-third ward,” said Kaidou.

            “There are cameras in the subway like on the street,” mused Saiki, focused on the game. “Well, we could put some distance between us.” He led them down towards the underground.

            “Your brother probably has a trick up his sleeve, doesn’t he?” said (Y/N).

            Saiki nodded (he actually responded to them).

            Sure enough, as they reached the bottom of the stairs, the shutter was down. The sign read “Tube Strike” in English.

            “Yare yare. There it is,” said Saiki.

            “He knew that the subways would be closed, which would make the lines for buses long,” said (Y/N). “Wow. He’s a genius.”

            “Don’t praise him, he’s as weird as everyone else in my family,” said Saiki.

            “We need to move fast!” said Kaidou, panicking. “He’ll be coming soon.”

            If he’s watching us, I’ll watch him. Saiki crossed his eyes. Clairvoyance. He saw his brother on a hang glider. He’s coming this way. He’s close. He can reach this place in five minutes.

            “What should we do?” said Nendou.

            “There!” said (Y/N), pointing. “Bikes for rent.”

            “Good idea.” Another reason Saiki liked (Y/N): they were actually helpful in these situations.

            “But there are only three, and there are four of us,” said Kaidou worriedly.

            “I can stand on the spokes on the back of one. I’ve done it a ton with Mera,” said (Y/N).

            Saiki pulled out a bike. “Get on.”

            “Are you su—”

            “We don’t have time.”

            Saiki didn’t want to admit this was nerve-wracking since he wasn’t a fan of touch usually, but he was choosing this. And it was (Y/N). He was comfortable with them. Of course, he also just didn’t want them to be so close to someone else, and with the other idiots with them, Saiki only trusted himself to keep them safe from Kusuke (not that there was really any danger, but Saiki had to justify this to himself without just getting to the point that he had a crush on (Y/N) and wanted to be close).

            “Alright,” said (Y/N), getting onto the back and holding onto Saiki’s shoulders as he began pedaling.

            Their cheeks warmed as they held onto him, and they fought to remain composed and focused. Their feelings were strong, but that didn’t mean they could lose focus and mess this up for Saiki. That would ruin any of (Y/N)’s chances to be close with Saiki.

            On his part, Saiki kept a straight face as usual, but he kept his eyes carefully ahead instead of glancing at (Y/N)’s hands on him. They were warm even through his clothes, and his heartbeat quickened as their proximity.

            Still, they all managed to remain focused on the task at hand and turned through a few streets and alleys to escape Kusuke. The bicycles were working. Unfortunately, not everyone riding them was working. Kaidou’s terrible stamina caught up, and he collapsed to the side.

            “Let’s take a break,” he gasped.

            “We’ve been biking for fifteen minutes,” said Saiki. “But we did try to avoid cameras. We should be alright. If we move around too much, he’ll detect our location. Perhaps we should’ve move location.”

            “That’s what you think!”

            From above, Kusuke dropped in with a motorcycle. Saiki and (Y/N) threw themselves out of the way.

            “Seriously?! Why is he here?!” cried Kaidou.

            “Are you alright?” asked Saiki, helping (Y/N) stand, and they nodded.

            “So cool!” said Nendou.

            “This isn’t the time for that!” cried Kaidou.

            (Y/N) and Saiki jumped back onto their bicycle, and all four sped out of the alley with Kusuke on their heels.

            “How did he find us?!” said (Y/N) over the rush of wind. “We avoided cameras!”

            “Maybe he has psychic powers,” joked Nendou.

            “It would run in the family,” said (Y/N) quietly, chuckling.

            “If he did, that would be terrible,” said Saiki. Luckily, his brother was just a genius, not a psychic.

            “Does he have a tracking device?” said Kaidou, giving a much more plausible idea.

            Saiki’s eyes widened. “My control device.”

            “He put a tracking device in it,” groaned (Y/N).

            “That jerk.” Saiki looked back, his eyes glowed, and a piece of Kusuke’s motorcycle broke to stop him in his tracks. He biked on, leaving his brother behind.

            They only stopped once they reached a giant department store, and Saiki led them in to try to lose Kusuke in the crowds.

            “As long as he knows our location, this is better than walking around,” said Saiki. “We need to avoid standing out.”

            (Y/N) coughed to avoid laughing. “Good luck with that.”

            Nendou was already driving a tiny kid toy car around the store, and Kaidou was examining all of the gaming equipment.

            “We have an announcement,” said the PA system, except it spoke with Kusuke’s voice. He was up to something again.

            “That voice?”

            “Uh-oh, he’s trying another tactic,” said (Y/N).

            “Please look for three young Japanese teenagers,” said Kusuke. “One has pink hair and has climbed Big Ben. Another has (H/C) hair and dressed up as a Grenadier Guard. A third is a bad child with shifty eyes who calls football ‘soccer.’ Another is a serial killer gorilla.”

            “Is the gorilla Nendou?” said (Y/N), not really fazed by the strangeness of Kusuke’s strategy. They had heard stranger things.

            “Definitely,” said Saiki.

            “It’s them!” cried an English man, pointing at the group. “Get them!”

            Instantly, a crowd converged on them, and they took off running. Saiki led them into a bathroom and a stall. People began to bang on the door, and (Y/N)’s eyes widened. They were pinned, and with the tracking device and the crowd, Kusuke would find them in an instant.

            “Okay, everyone, don’t worry,” said Kusuke’s voice in the bathroom.

            “He’s almost here!” whispered (Y/N) urgently.

            “That was a false announcement,” said Kusuke.

            “Oh, really?” murmured the crowd, slowly dispersing.

            “Up,” whispered (Y/N) to Saiki.

            He looked at them, and (Y/N) pointed up.

            “Up,” they repeated.

            Saiki’s eyes widened as he got the message, and he mentally thanked the world for giving him a friend like (Y/N). For all the trouble they got into and their air-headedness, they came through at all the rights moments.

            Saiki teleported them all a floor up. There was no change in the layout of the bathroom, so Kaidou and Nendou didn’t notice. Best of all, though? Kusuke’s tracker wouldn’t see the change in elevation. He would open the door of the stall below and find nothing.

            “Time’s up,” said Saiki.

            Kusuke had lost once more.

            “We won!” cheered Nendou.

            “Now do we get to really explore London?” said Kaidou excitedly.

            “Do whatever you want,” said Saiki. He opened the stall door and walked out. He had a prize to collect. “(Y/N), do you want to come to tea with me?” Kaidou and Nendou might tail after him, but what mattered was if (Y/N) came or not. They made any additional company so much more bearable.

            (Y/N) grinned. “Of course!”

            Saiki’s hearts warmed at their brightness.

l

            “So are Kusuo and Saiki always like that?” asked (Y/N), taking a sip of their tea and looking at Mr. and Mrs. Saiki.

            Saiki himself was glad that (Y/N) used his first name now since if they called him and Kusuke the same thing, he’d just get frustrated to be lumped in with him.

            Mrs. Saiki laughed. “Oh, yes, since they were small. They’re always competing. It’s so cute.”

            “Troublesome is more like it,” said Saiki. “He never stops challenging me.”

            “They’re brothers. Brothers are like that,” said Mr. Saiki.

            “No, he’s just a nuisance.”

            (Y/N) chuckled. “Well, it was kind of fun. I mean, I don’t have siblings of my own to compete with, so running around with Kaidou and Nendou and Kusuo was a real adventure.”

            Saiki looked at them and their shy smile. Okay, fine. So maybe the entire situation hadn’t been that bad since he got to spend time with them and it made them happy. Saiki would never admit it out loud, but he was thankful that Kusuke’s endless competitiveness led to more bonding with (Y/N) and their joy.

l

            “Morning, Kusuo! Where are your parents?” asked (Y/N).

            “On another date,” said Saiki. It was the following day, and there was still time until they were scheduled to return to Japan, so his parents were taking advantage of the time.

            “That’s cute,” said (Y/N), smiling. They liked how in-love Saiki’s parents were. It was how married couples should be.

            “Where are Nendou and Kaidou?” asked Saiki.

            “They went back to the department store to buy souvenirs,” said (Y/N).

            “Of course they did,” said Saiki.

            “Do you have anything you want to do?” asked (Y/N).

            “Not particularly,” said Saiki.

            “Well, I was thinking of going for a walk to find a bookstore and then head to a café to read,” said (Y/N). They shifted nervously. “Do you want to go together?”

            “Yes.” The answer was instant, unusual for Saiki.

            (Y/N) brightened. “Really?”

            Saiki nodded.

            “Awesome,” said (Y/N), grinning ear-to-ear.

l

            Soon enough, Saiki and (Y/N) ended up in a bookstore off the trodden main roads of London. It was quaint and lovely, quiet and private.

            “They have so many books,” said (Y/N), looking at each excitedly.

            “Can you read English?” asked Saiki.

            “Not perfectly, but I’m trying to improve,” said (Y/N), laughing sheepishly. “That’s why I’m trying to find a book that interests me. Then I can improve my vocabulary outside of just what school assigns.”

            Saiki nodded, understanding. “How about this one?” He handed over a book.

            “Pride…and…Prej-Prejudiice,” said (Y/N), trying to sound out the words. They brightened. “Oh, I’ve seen the movie for this. I love it!”

            “What type of story is it?” asked Saiki.

            “A romance between a headstrong woman and a man who doesn’t know how to show his feelings,” said (Y/N). “It’s so cute.”

            “Would you watch the movie again with me? Maybe over break?” said Saiki, daring to ask (Y/N) for a private moment with them that wasn’t their usual homework or cooking. This was something more akin to what many considered a date. It was a risk to ask, but Saiki wanted to be closer to (Y/N). He wanted to show that he cared.

            (Y/N)’s cheeks warmed, and their smile softened. “I’d love to, Kusuo, but are you sure you want to interrupt your time alone?”

            “I don’t mind spending time with someone when it’s you,” said Saiki. “You’re my…you’re my best friend.” He avoided eye-contact, unused to his own honesty.

            (Y/N)’s heart nearly burst, and, overwhelmed with their own emotions, they dared to reach out and touch Saiki’s hand. “I’m glad you like spending time with me, Kuso. I really like i. You’re my…well, you’re my best friend, too.”

            Saiki looked down at the hand touching his own, and he let himself take their hand and give it a gentle squeeze. Neither had spoken the complete truth of their feelings, but it was enough. They both cared about the other. That was all their hearts needed to know for now.

Taglist:

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[robobarbie]

I need......xyx.......crumbs .. . PLEASE

here's smth I wrote for the bp server a couple years back (jesus) when I played a game of Saw with them (they were great sports about it)

When Xyx drove you out for a 'romantic weekend getaway', you knew there would be some sort of twist– there always was– but as you peer at the massive cliff looming overhead, you start to wonder if you'd live to see the romance part of the trip.

"Having second thoughts?" Xyx pops up from the pile of equipment in the back of the car behind you, flashing you a razor grin. "Too late to back out now. I've got the car keys."

"Ha ha…Me, chicken? Never."

You had hoped that engaging in his banter would keep him satisfied, but your anxiety is too transparent to make the lie stick. Xyx frowns and sets down the equipment. "Hey, love. If you're unsure, we can always do something else. I won't be offended."

"No, no! I'm just– having some jitters."

His eyes search yours for a moment, and the silence hangs heavily between you, until Xyx finally sighs and leans forward to kiss your forehead.

"Alright, if you insist. Let's get you suited up, then." He gives one of the harnesses an appraising look before handing it to you. "Step into the loops and pull them up. We'll tighten everything once you've got it on."

You stare at the pile of straps and loops, turning it over in your hands to puzzle out where your legs go; in turn, Xyx sees your predicament and bursts into laughter.

"Aw, doll, I didn't mean to stump you. Might have to start, though," he smirks. "You're adorable when you make that face."

You huff as he takes the harness from your hands, obediently stepping in with his guidance despite your scowl. "Adorable?!" 

"Well…" You watch his hands shift the loops around your thighs, and gasp when they linger and squeeze. "Actually, for this particular moment, I don't think I would use that word."

"Y-you sure you still want to go rock climbing?"

"Mm. Yes. But I think we may have to change our plans afterward." He gives the harness–and your thighs– one more squeeze. "Be a doll and stay still for just one more minute, would you? I have to tie you in." 

Xyx turns back to the equipment, retrieving a length of climbing rope that he gathers loosely in his hands. His face moves tauntingly close to yours as he reaches for your waist, loops the rope, and sets to tying a complex knot with ease; you can count the freckles on his face at this distance, and start doing so in order to keep your focus from slipping. Instead, it's reminding you of how easily you could kiss him right now, how if you tipped forward just enough–

He gives the knot a final, decisive tug, savoring your reaction as you're jolted back to reality (and pulled closer by the hips). "Now, just one more thing."

"Huh?" 

Closing the distance you had just been mourning, Xyx leads you in by the jaw and meets your lips in a slow, deep, kiss. You instinctively tilt your head; he replies with a pleased hum that rumbles through your head and down your spine. His hand caresses your cheek when it finally, reluctantly withdraws along with his face.

"For luck," he breathes.

You can scarcely breathe yourself, but with Xyx so close to you, looking at you so playfully and yet so helplessly in love, you imagine that the luck he's given you could take you anywhere.

“Now,” he says, taking your hand in his, “let’s go exploring.”

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

The Meet Cute - Law's Story - 3

Source for pic

The Great Pretender 3

Word Count: 3599

Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader; Law is a soft dom; you have bratty tendencies (not all the time); voice kink; praise kink; cursing; very suggestive behaviour and innuendo from the start; sexual tension; teasing; so much flirting; romance; slow-burn; fluff; slight angst; mature audiences (though explicit NSFW moments will be properly tagged on the chapter); possessive Law; protective Law; soft Law; teasing Law; manipulative Doflamingo; inappropriate Doflamingo; fake relationship trope; only one-bed trope; reader has some anxiety issues; reader is a control freak and perfectionist; modern day AU

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You and Law (your father's doctor) start to build a flirty friendship because of your father’s procedure. So much so that when he’s invited to Baby 5’s wedding (his cousin), he asks you to be his date. His uncle Doflamingo - who is filthy rich - is very adamant on finding a suitable wife for him. Seeing as he wants to avoid that, he asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend for the weekend.

Notes: Chapter 3 is now up! Let's enjoy these simple interactions before everything becomes fun complicated, shall we?

Tag List: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06

Masterlist

|Chapter 2| | |Chapter 4|

You barely sleep all night. Every moan or noise coming from your father wakes you up. If he grunts in pain, you are by his side in a second. You keep checking to see if he’s feverish, cold, asleep or awake, struggling or sleeping soundly…

You are even more exhausted than yesterday.

When the morning nurse comes to check on him, you excuse yourself to get some breakfast and to go to the property to check on the animals or see if Ace needs any help. You gulp down a huge cup of coffee before leaving, though, hoping that it gives you enough energy to handle the rest of the day.

When you get home, Ace tells you he has everything under control and you should just go rest. You don’t rest, but you take a well-deserved shower, change clothes, have breakfast, drink another big cup of coffee and go back to the hospital. You have this day off work as well and then it’s the weekend so you can stay by your father’s side the whole day. 

As you reach the hospital, you have another coffee and this time you feel it kick in as exhaustion is pushed to the back of your mind and you feel a bit more ready to tackle the day. 

“Hey, dad. I’m back.” You say as you enter the room and sit by the chair. “How do you feel?”

He grins. “Much better. The nurse bathed me.”

Your smile quickly turns into a frown. “Are you serious?” 

“Yeah, bug. And then she gave me some more drugs because my back was throbbing like hell, and now I’m suuuuuper fine.”

You want to keep giving him an annoyed look, but you can’t help but chuckle at his silliness. “You’re incorrigible dad.”

He nods and grabs the remote, leaving it on some news channel. “Bug, you look like shit.”

The frown is back on your face in the blink of an eye. “Dad!”

“Sorry, but you do! Have you slept?” His gaze leaves the TV to settle on you again.

“I… I… a bit!” You stammer. “But I drank coffee, I’m fine!”

“Your eye bags say otherwise.” He shrugs. “Lean back, bug. Sleep a little bit. Or go home. I’m fine.”

You shake your head, cross your arms and stare at the uninteresting show with the highlights of some football game. “I’m not sleepy.”

“How many coffees have you had?” His voice is stern so you avoid his gaze.

“Some.”

“Bug…”

“Three! I’m fine!” Then you fish a book from your purse and open it, clearly putting an end to the conversation. “Let me read.”

Shanks doesn’t press and you actually manage to read a few chapters uninterrupted. For about an hour before you’re overcome by yawns. Looking at the time, you decide to try and take a quick nap before Law comes over to check on your father. Just a quick shut-eye.

You close your book and are about to get comfortable when the door opens and Law comes in, effectively chasing away all semblance of sleep left. 

“Law!” Your dad exclaims, clearly still under the happy effect of the drugs. The doctor nods at him as he greets both of you and enters the room. His eyes linger on you, a slight crinkle between them as he takes in your state. 

Your dad said you look like shit and he's not the most attentive person on earth so… you really must be looking terrible. Dreadful enough for the handsome doctor to notice. 

“How are you both feeling today?” Shanks grins and gives him an enthusiastic thumbs up. Then Law says your name and you shrug, forcing a tired smile to form on your lips and mumbling a weak ‘fine’. “Maybe you should be resting. You know your father is fine and he's got the best care team looking out for him.”

Sighing, your smile turns real. “I know. But I need to be here for him. I need to know everything that’s going on and if I'm home alone, I'll just go crazy!”

That sly smirk tugs at his lips and he nods slowly. “It's a control thing, right? You just can't let go.” Your chest constricts and your breath hitches, the way he speaks those words… they bring such promises attached to them, it makes you want to let go, to surrender. But to what? 

To him? 

He keeps holding your stare. A piercing amber gaze that seems to bore straight into your soul, leaving your secrets bare and open for him to find and read them. 

“Let's check you out, shall we, Mr. S.?”

And as he examines your father, you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom and splash some water on your flaming cheeks. 

-*-

By the time you get back, Law is finished and the nurses are bringing lunch for your dad. Your stomach growls as it smells food - even though it's hospital food - and you wonder if you should eat a sandwich from the machine or at the hospital bar. 

Law says goodbye to your dad and intercepts you at the door. “Have lunch with me.” It's not a request. It's basically a command, the way he carries his low voice, a slight slur to the words. You want to say yes immediately, but you're frightened - and intrigued - by the hold this man has over you, so you shake your head. 

“I shouldn't.” But you don't elaborate. Because why shouldn't you? You like speaking with Law and he's not your doctor. He's your father's doctor, so there’s nothing inappropriate about a simple lunch. 

And he immediately sees through your facade. 

“You shouldn't, but you want to.” Fuck. “We'll just grab a quick bite. You need to eat. I'm alone, you're alone. It's perfect.”

It really is. 

“Go with him, bug!” Your dad sing-songs from his bed as the nurse helps him eat. 

“Butt out, dad! And eat the food by yourself! You're perfectly capable of doing it with one arm! You've been doing that practically my whole life.”

Law purses his lips but you can see the amusement in his eyes before he raises his eyebrows. “Come with me.” He says and you let out a big sigh. 

“Fine. Let me get my purse.” Entering the room, you glare at Shanks who keeps being fed by the nurse and tell him you won't be long. As you cross the mirror peeking at you from inside the bathroom, you frown and tell Law you'll meet him in five by the hospital entrance. Then you try your best to look presentable by combing your hair and fixing your clothes. It will have to do. 

-*-

“So you entered university two years earlier. You're a prodigy.” A smirk leaves your lips as you nibble your food. Conversation has been flowing smoothly between you both and you've learned that he lived with his uncles since he was ten until he entered university, because his parents passed - he didn't share how and you didn't press. He just added that information when you shared you were a child of divorce and were reconnecting with your father. 

You've been sharing professional and educational experiences and turns out Kaya was right. The man is a freaking genius. And you realise that that fact just turns his sexy points up by one thousand. You're so doomed. 

As he's about to answer you, his phone rings. He excuses himself and takes a look, then a frown and a deep scowl etch upon his face but he quickly dismisses it and sets the phone aside. Just for it to start ringing again. 

He sighs. “Sorry, I can't mute it because of the hospital and the clinic, but this is a bothersome call that I would rather not take.” Another sigh as the caller tries one more time. He excuses himself but doesn't get up to answer it. “I'm busy.” It's all he says, but you can sense him tense up, the mask of perfect control he usually holds crumbling slightly as he clenches his jaw with stress and tension. “Yes, I RSVP'd, didn’t I?” His throat bobs up and down and you try to focus on something else because you don't want to pry. “I don't know yet. Bye.

Law locks the phone with a grunt and sighs. “Sorry about that. It was my uncle.” You smile and nod. Could it have been Doflamingo? You noticed the way he talked about his uncle Rosinante - Cora - with a fondness in his words and kindness in his eyes, but he didn't elaborate on his relationship with the eldest uncle so it strikes you as somewhat strained. “Where were we?” He continues where you left off and you keep talking and getting acquainted. 

-*-

Lunch went by in the blink of an eye and, once again, you realise how simple and nice it is to speak with Law. He's very profound in many subjects, intelligent, clever, witty and with an odd sense of humour. The only thing you barely got a read on, was his emotions. He seems to guard the way he feels about things behind a well-crafted mask of control and assertion. And you have yet to take a peek behind it. 

Though his uncle calling him certainly got a rise out of him and they barely exchanged three sentences. 

Law walks you to the hospital and stops. He had said earlier that he was returning to the clinic for some appointments and then had surgery to perform before dinnertime. He promised to visit your dad before heading home, to see how he was doing. 

You start to feel exhaustion settling into your bones again, so you sip your coffee while nodding. 

“You can't fight exhaustion with coffee for too long. Get some rest. Your father’s fine. This is an order. A doctor's order.” He adds with a slight smirk. 

“I told you I don't follow all manner of instructions, Law.” He hums low and your knees tremble.

“I can see that.” He uses your name sternly and your eyes glint with amusement and desire. “We're still getting to know each other, but I'm sure you'll soon find out that following my instructions can be quite… rewarding.”

You can feel your pulse quicken as his amber gaze pierces, once again, so deep that it almost reaches your soul. 

“I'll think about it.” You say meekly and the semblance of a smirk he had before transforms into a deep grin. 

“Good.” He drags the word and you're left craving for more. Good girl, that's all you wanted to hear from his lips. He said it once. It was meant as a joke but the sound still echoes in your brain. Fuck. 

You're so doomed. 

-*-

When the sun begins to set on the horizon, you try to fight sleep so you can be awake for Law's last check-up before he leaves. But he said he was going to be in surgery so maybe the surgery ran late because he should've appeared by now. 

Your dad is engrossed in another football match and you can't focus on the words of your book anymore. You try to browse through your socials but easily lose interest. Games don't help either, so you decide to just lay your weary head down for a moment. 

You cross your arms on your father's bed and lay your head on them, your back stretching a bit from your sitting position on the chair but you have been bent for a while so it's a welcome stretch. 

Closing your eyes, you sigh softly. You don't even notice when sleep claims you. 

-*-

Law removes his contaminated scrubs and washes his hands. His surgery took much longer than planned and he hated that. He should be used to it by now, surgeries very rarely take the time they were meant to. And he always adjusts his plans according to that. But this one ran three hours late. 

And he promised you he'd check on your dad before he left for the day. 

And as much as he likes being in control, he hates to break promises. 

So he rushed his after-surgery routine, hoping you'd still be there by your father's side, waiting for him. 

You have an inexplicable hold on him. He can, at the same time, understand you as if you were an open book and yet be left wanting to learn more about who you are. He suspects there are parts of yourself still hidden from your own knowledge. 

And Law thrives on knowledge so he's very eager to learn all there is to know about you.

By the time he reaches your father's room, the lights are already dim and dinner has been served. His own stomach grumbles to remind him he should eat something too, but he pushes his hunger to the back of his mind as he pushes the doors to the room open. 

He's about to start talking when Shanks shushes him with a finger to his lips and a whispered shh. His chest constricts as he sets his eyes on you. You're in a godawful position that is not doing your back any good, but you look adorable in your sleep. 

There's a strong feeling within him that urges him to protect and care for you and he doesn't really know how he can feel so strongly about someone he practically just met. 

Truth be told, you have spent some time together thanks to your father's appointments and exams, and you have claimed permanent residence in his brain, complete with zip code, mailbox, address, you name it! Still… 

He sighs as he sets down your father's patient chart. “That can't be comfortable. How long has she been in this position?” He whispers as he approaches. 

Shanks shrugs and pats your head softly. “Hours. She has been surviving on coffee for more than a day. She just blacked out.”

“Yeah, she didn't look her best earlier and I did tell her to rest. But her back is going to kill her tomorrow.” Law sighs once more as he removes your purse, book and jacket from the corner chair and presses the switch to recline it. Then he sets the pillow near the head and approaches you. 

This is the tricky part, how to move you without waking you up? 

Easily, it seems. You must've really been exhausted because he picks you up bridal style and lays you on the chair, setting you in the most comfortable way before using his doctor's coat to cover you up and you barely stir. 

He doesn't resist tucking your hair away from your face before turning to your father - who's watching him with slight amusement. 

“Well done, Law. She didn't even stir. Those surgeons' hands are very steady.”

Law chuckles as he begins his routine examination. “They have to be, Mr. S. People's lives depend on it. And your daughter is just a heavy sleeper.”

“Perhaps… but I've noticed the extra care.” He winks before a frown takes over his face. “She could really use the extra care…”

Law doesn't really want to press, though he's curious. He's pretty sure your father said that because of your cheating ex. And though he's itching to know what kind of special asshole is capable of cheating on you, he lets it slide, as he adjusts the drugs in the IV and checks if the incision in Shanks’ back is recovering nicely. 

Law and Shanks make small talk during the rest of the examination and Law can't resist tugging the coat a bit more snugly around you and making sure you're comfortable before heading towards the door. 

Shanks’ eyes are closed when he speaks, but the older man can't quite hide the grin that overcomes his face. “You know, having a doctor as a son-in-law is something I wouldn't mind.”

Law snickers as he says goodnight and closes the door. That's a thought that will wander through his mind tonight. 

-*-

You wake up to the sound of chatter in the room. The morning nurse is fussing over your father, giggling like a schoolgirl as Shanks cracks jokes filled with innuendo. You blink and take a while to adjust to your surroundings because you're quite sure you'd fallen asleep near your father's bed, in the uncomfortable chair. 

A familiar soothing scent overwhelms you and you smile, feeling relaxed and at peace. It's a musky scent with hints of pine and… disinfectant? 

Looking down you immediately find the source of the scent: it's Law's coat. The corner of your lips tugs upwards as you smile and remove the item from over you. He must've found you asleep when he came to see your father yesterday. Was he also the one who moved you? Couldn't have been Shanks. 

“Hey, sunshine! You're up.” Your father greets cheerily as the nurse tugs the sheets around his torso and gives him a sultry wave before leaving. 

“Dad. Stop flirting with the nurses.” You say sternly as you get up, stretch and fold the coat neatly before settling it back down on the chair. Then you saunter towards Shanks and give him a peck on the forehead. “How do you feel? What did Law say yesterday?”

“I don't flirt with the nurses, bug, they flirt with me. I'm irresistible.”

“Insufferable is the word you're looking for.” You correct him with a smirk. 

“Law said everything was recovering nicely and I might even go home earlier than expected.” You sigh in relief. You know there's still a fair amount of chance for infections or other problems to arise, but it seems your dad is on his way to recovery. At least he's in good spirits and that always helps. “You know what Law also did?”

The blush in your cheeks is faint but you still turn your face away. “I can put two and two together, dad.” You mumble as you fidget with your phone. 

Shanks smirks. “So can I, bug.” You stare at him deadpan as he raises his eyebrows suggestively. 

“Well, you seem to be feeling fine, so I'm heading home to check on the property.”

“Ace's got it, bug!”

“And to take a shower and change. Need anything?” You add as he shakes his head. So, gathering your stuff, you promise to come back later and repeat the routine from the day before. Except this time you pack a meagre lunch so you don't have to go out to eat. Law said he would visit your father but he had a very busy day at the clinic so he wasn't quite sure when he would appear. 

As you return to your father's side, you discover that Law had already come by - much to your chagrin. You weren't quite sure why you felt disappointed not seeing him for the whole day, so you brushed that thought aside as you made small talk with Shanks. 

-*-

The weekend ended pretty soon and Law said your father would be released by Monday at the end of the day, depending on how he was feeling by then. He had already been able to get up on his own, shower and use the bathroom without any help. His back was still swollen, as expected, but otherwise he was recovering fully. You had been sleeping at home since you really didn't see the need to be by his side all the time and you were fully rested. 

On Monday, almost at dinnertime, Law released your father from the hospital. He advised caution, rest, no heavy lifting or driving, and reminded him to take his pills. 

The follow-up consultation - back at the clinic instead of the hospital - was set for next week and you were already feeling a pang of longing from not seeing Law every day, like you've now grown accustomed to. 

“If you have any doubts, worries, or just want to talk about something,” Law's eyes glance at yours, “just call me. If I don't pick up immediately it is because I'm in surgery, but even then, if it's urgent just text, I usually have a nurse monitoring any urgent texts.”

“We would never disturb your surgery hours because of something small.” You mutter as his gaze rests on you again. 

“Fair enough. But if it's serious, just do that. Okay?” You nod and your dad thanks him. He walks you both to the hospital entrance and before you leave to get the car, he touches your arm. It's a very light touch, barely two fingers, but it manages to send a jolt of electricity up your arm, making you gasp as you turn to him, lips slightly parted at the intensity you just experienced. “Don't be a stranger.” He murmurs and you smile. 

“Well, remember I have the best coffee in town - second only to Sanji's - whenever you feel like drinking something other than hospital swill.” You smirk and he grins. 

“I might just take you up on that.”

“Please, do.” You notice how his pupils dilate and his lips purse as you say ‘please’. It nearly has the same effect on him as him saying ‘good girl’ to you. The tension between both of you is palpable. 

If only you were brave enough to glimpse inside the door you closed for yourself. No men. No relationships. No heartache. As simple as that. 

But it’s all so tempting.

“Bug, the car?”

“Right!” You answer, a bit dazed by the intensity of the situation. “See you soon, Law!” You exclaim before leaving to get the car so you and your father can both head home.

|Chapter 4|

[thefanficmonster]

Love in Color

Benedict Bridgerton x Reader (Female)

Warnings: None :)

Genre: Rivals/Enemies to Lovers, Fluff, Romance

Summary: Nothing speaks to the soul quite like expressive art. Or maybe the even more expressive artist behind it.

The spring breeze wafts in through the open windows of the small room, curling the curtains to its will. The pleasant smell of freshly bloomed flowers lingers in the air although one could hardly sense it over the suffocating tension that's settled in the room ever since Benedict entered to find Y/N already in there.

Although not a word was exchanged between the two, just her gaze was more than enough to let him know she'd rather be anywhere but in the same room as him. Still, her stubbornness overpowered her distaste for her fellow up-and-coming artist and she remained seated even after Benedict decided to make himself comfortable in front of the canvas farthest across the room from the one she'd taken up.

They are just a couple months away from the mandatory presentations of their final pieces and not a single artist in The Academy can rest easy until they perfect their art. Some have approached the situation as much more dire than others would perceive it but that is simply the burden the so-called greats have to carry.

Y/N and Benedict are prime examples of those artists.

For the amount of disagreements and stubbornness that resides between them, it's quite the miracle they are so alike in nature. And, dare I say, in talent as well. Of course, artists and their art are not meant to be compared but you could never miss the similarities. Not in their pieces, per se, but their personalities.

Competition comes in conjunction with the acceptance letter to The Academy. It comes as no surprise that this place is not exactly a breeding ground for friendships but this headbutting between these two exceeds all limits.

"I sure hope that is mere practice." The mockery in Benedict's voice almost makes Y/N's eye twitch as it echoes off the walls of the silent drawing atelier.

He'd been keeping a watchful eye on her work this whole time, even sacrificing a few important brushstrokes due to his divided attention. Good thing this is just a perfecting attempt on his understanding of anatomy, otherwise he'd be far more upset.

She's become well versed in his game by now. He simply cannot withstand the thought of being in her vicinity without provoking her in one way or another. Although she knows better than to feed into his entertainment, she'd also rather pour ink over a canvas of hard work than take his teasing laying down.

"Very like you to not be able to distinguish practice form a developed piece, Bridgerton." The bite to her words is not at all softened by her leveled tone. If anything it packs that much more of a punch.

One that provokes a smile from Benedict.

"I fail to see how that is my fault. You clearly have made very little effort with this piece but the same could be said for many of your previous ones." He's in no way sincere. In fact, he is openly lying on a dime. He adores her art. All games and personal biases aside, as someone with a distinguished taste in art with a high standard for beauty, he cannot, in good conscience, say her art isn't exceptional.

"Paying more attention to my art than your own, are you?" She doesn't bother turning her head his way, offering him nothing more than a view of her side profile.

"Nothing worth of my attention." He muses, almost forgetting the stool has no backrest as he leans back, catching himself just in time to not topple over and give her the satisfaction she most definitely would've held over his head till the end of time.

She hums knowingly, almost humorously, "That misshapen attempt you have over there says otherwise." She isn't far off the mark. His gaze has been more entranced on each brushstroke of her hand rather than his own. He's missed far more marks than he'd like to admit.

She has him there. But Benedict Bridgerton is nothing if not quick on his feet, "That is certainly one way to admit you are unfamiliar with abstract art. How embarrassing on your part."

A scoff parts Y/N's lips, her head finally snapping in his direction, their eyes meeting with a fiery flare. The tension is so potent a flick of a lighter and the room could be set ablaze.

The temperature only keeps rising when she stands up from her chair, crossing the distance between her canvas and his with three long strides as she comes to stand beside him. Sweat beads form on the back of his neck as a chill rushes down his spine. It is a common reaction his body exhibits whenever her proximity breaches the limitations of scandalous.

They're alone. Unchaperoned. Too close to keep the ton's mouths shut if they were to be seen.

His hand comes up to tug at the collar of his shirt in desperate need for more breathing room. He unbuttons the top button on instinct only to realize how inappropriately the action could be perceived. To his relief, Y/N doesn't seem to notice or care. In fact, she's incredibly disinterested in him at this moment, instead offering her whole attention to the painting in progress.

"Abstract, you say?" She muses, reaching down to toy with one of the paint brushes laying in a small blue pain puddle on the palette. "Allow me to fix it for you."

Before Benedict has even had time to process her words, with a swift snap of her wrist the canvas has now been unflatteringly stained with a blue splatter across it that makes his jaw drop.

"You vixen...." He mutters, eyes wide in absolute bewilderment as he watches the splatter drip paint down below it, coating the previously warmly colored drawing with blue streaks.

"My most sincere apologies, Mr. Bridgerton." The faux remorse in her voice raises his blood pressure a whole lot higher, causing him to gulp down his frustration. "It appears I really lack the understanding necessary for abstract art." If looks could kill, she'd be dead. But that glare, that very glare right there provides her such entertainment.

Having expressed her remorse, she slyly goes to make her way out of the atelier, hoping for a celebratory cigarette outside in the garden now that darkness has enveloped the horizon. However...

Before she has even made it halfway to the door, the loud thunder of quick footsteps shake the walls and marble floor. She's barely had time to turn around to witness the most childish retaliation of all time - Benedict has resorted to smearing the entire palette of colors on Y/N's canvas.

I believe this is an appropriate time to mention that they are both aware of how ridiculous this is. It's not even about the pieces, they were mere attempts. Practice pieces, if you will. It's not about them whatsoever. It's the principle. The disrespect, the mockery.

The need to retaliate for every small comments and remark has now become war, fighting fire with fire. Or rather paint with paint.

With redness clouding her vision and practically all rationale having left her mind, Y/N reaches over to grab the small bottle of ink on the professor's desk. A couple steps later and she's dowsing the canvas with it. She hasn't finished spilling the bottle when a hand engulfs her wrist. In a futile attempt to put an end to her offense and save what's left of his painting's dignity - not much, to be honest - Benedict moves her hand, redirecting the stream of ink so now it splashes on them.

His white shirt and her silver dress are now a quarter black in the front.

That realization brings on a brief moment of peace and silence. No movement, no sound. They're just staring at each other in complete and utter disbelief.

A beat later, they burst out into laughter.

"Oh now you're getting it." He warns her, his words breaking them away from one another like opposite charges of a magnet.

They both hurry to arm themselves with paint they can smear on the other but Y/N unfortunately is beaten to it. She's still in the process of gathering ammo when something cold hits the exposed skin of her upper back.

"Purple goes rather well with your dress." His comment boils her blood, making her immune to the cold paint she's now coated with and fueling her into counterattack resulting in red paint drowning out whatever white parts were left on his button-up. She even got a good splatter on his cheek.

Her cocky smirk speaks volumes as she observes her latest art piece, "Red brings out the color of your eyes quite nicely."

Although he's acutely aware of her comment being nothing more than a tease - as is she in her entirety - he can't help the way the breath was knocked out of him

"Is that so?" He muses, slowly crossing the distance between them as if taunting her to run away.

She doesn't. She doesn't move an inch from her spot, instead crossing her arms over her chest as she hums an affirmation that doesn't even fully leave her lips before they're engulfed by his.

If he was worried about their earlier proximity being considered scandalous, he's clearly lost all rationality now considering their bodies are practically molding together, paint-stained hands roaming previously unexplored territory, fingers tangling in each other's hair, exhales mingling in a single breath.

Suddenly, neither of them seems to mind the mess they've made of themselves. They've been wreaking havoc on the other's composure since the day they met, a couple ruined garments and canvases is nothing.

Some things are so much sweeter when you're not supposed to want them, let alone have them. Taking them despite potential repercussions is a thrill that can't match a single high. So, scandals and the ton be damned, he's taking her. Here and now. Paint and all.

* * * * *

The following morning, upon returning to her room from a lecture she cannot remember whatsoever, Y/N finds quite the surprise awaiting her.

~ Forgive me for ruining your dashing gown, Miss L/N. I unfortunately never got to tell you how greatly I like seeing you in it before I ruined it. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I didn't redeem my actions. So, I beg of you to accept this gesture as both a peace and courtship offering. ~

~ Benedict ~

She rereads the note atop the gown laying on her bed at least three times before she realizes she's smiling and blushing - a reaction she would've condemned herself for just twenty four hours ago. Now, with the, um, new developments, being taken into consideration, she allows herself to revel in this unfamiliar feeling that has filled her with a sense of joyful giddiness she can't recall ever feeling before.

As she falls onto her bed, still grinning from ear to ear, she allows her mind to toy with the idea of giving this offered courtship a chance.

After all, no one has ever brought so much color to her life quite like Benedict Bridgerton.

[makeitmingi]

The Cat and Dog Game [Chapter 45]

Genre: Romance, Fluff, Comedy

Pairing: Yunho x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Chef!Reader, RestaurantOwner!Yunho, MaitreD!Hongjoong, Waiter!Yeosang, Waiter!San, Waiter!Mingi, SousChef!Seonghwa, SousChef!Wooyoung, PrepChef!Jongho

Summary: Yunho's dream was to open and run his own restaurant. But he doesn't know anything when it comes to cooking. Until you came along and accepted the job, bringing with you a small crew. How will the black cat tame the energetic golden retriever?

Word count: 4.2K

You hummed to yourself as you walked on the streets, after your psychologist appointment. There was a lot to unpack, especially trying to navigate how you feel after cutting ties with your fahter, so you always liked to take a walk on your own.

'SHELTER DRIVE'

A crowd and big sign caught you attention as you passed by the park. You saw a big fenced pen set up with dogs jumping around, barking while people looked at them.

"Hello, miss. Are you interested in getting a dog?" A young guy came up to you, a little too enthusiastically.

"I don't support pet shops..." You cleared your throat.

"Oh, that's great to hear actually! We're actually not a shop, we run a local shelter and to prevent overcrowding, we do events like these to get our eligible dogs out there. " He explained.

"I see." You nodded your head slowly. Yunho had recently been watching puppy videos, it's his new obsession.

"D-Do you have golden retrievers?" You asked. He nodded, leading you over to the pen where there were adult, teens and puppies, all golden retrievers. When you bent down, some of them stood on their hind legs, curiously trying to sniff you. They barked enthusiastically, spinning in circles.

"Golden retrievers are very popular. We just got a litter surrendered to us, that's why we have a lot of puppies." The guy explained. You nodded, scanning all of them.

"If you'd like to meet any of them, let me know and I'll get them out for you." He continued.

Then you saw her. She was sitting slightly behind the rambunctious group, an enthusiastic smile on her face, staring at you with puppy eyes.

"Her." You pointed, melting slightly. The worker went in to pick her up and she immediately tried to climb into your arms. The puppy put her arms around you, her tail wagging happily.

"Hello there, precious." You whispered. She let out a yelping bark and licked your cheek, rubbing her head against your skin.

Just like what Yunho does.

"It's like matchmade in heaven." The worker smiled. You couldn't help but agree with him. Even though she was enthusiastic, you knew Whiskey would warm up to her soon. Like how you warmed up to Yunho's enthusiasm.

"Where do I sign the papers?" You asked, keeping her in your arms. After signing the papers and paying the small fee for the microchipping and vaccinations, you took your puppy home.

"Whiskey, I'm home~" You called out to your cat. Whiskey loved you but like you, he wasn't very enthusiastic.

"I got you a friend. Be nice to her." You said to the cat who jumped down from the cat tree.

"Hold on." You held the puppy and sat down. Whiskey leaned forward to sniff the puppy and the puppy did the same, a little more happily of course. Whiskey leaned back, casting you a look.

"What? You'll love her, soon enough." You raised an eyebrow, knowing Whiskey was questioning your decision at this point.

*meow*

With that comment, Whiskey turned around and walked away, climbing up his cat tree, which was able to put him far away from the excited puppy. The puppy whimpered and looked back up at you, almost showing her disappointment in Whiskey not wanting to play with her.

"Don't worry about Whiskey, hmm? He's just unfriendly." You scolded. The only golden retriever Whiskey has grown close to was Yunho. They're almost inseparable now.

"(y/n), are you home?" Speaking of the devil. Yunho's voice was heard from the doorway.

"I'm her- What's that?" Your tall boyfriend stopped in his tracks, seeing the golden ball of fur run around the place.

"This is our new daughter. I got her for you or us." You chuckled, seeing the puppy run to Yunho and jump around his feet, sniffing him curiously. Yunho bent down, fingers stroking the pup's head.

"Wait, why?"

"You've been watching those puppy videos a lot recently. Plus there was a shelter adoption thing I went past." You explained.

"I see." Yunho chuckled. He came over to you, bending down to kiss you on the head before sitting beside you. The puppy clumsily ran over to play with Yunho. She climbed into Yunho's lap, hoisting her front paws on his thigh.

"And doesn't she remind you of someone?" You teased. Yunho rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to the puppy. The puppy jumped out from Yunho's lap and came to you.

"And Whiskey's okay with this?" Yunho raised an eyebrow. You shrugged, pointing to the cat tree.

"Aww, Whiskey. Your mum brought an intruder to your house?" Yunho went over, cooing at Whiskey, who meowed in response.

"Grow up, you two." You scoffed. Yunho scratched Whiskey's chin and he ate it up, rubbing his head affectionately against Yunho's knuckle, licking his finger.

"We need to name her and pick up puppy supplies." You said to Yunho.

"What did you have in mind?" Yunho asked.

"You should name her. I named Whiskey, it's only right that as a felow golden retriever and president of the puppies, you name her." You fell backwards, laughing and holding your stomach. Yunho sent you the dirtiest look ever. The puppy excitedly came over to sniff your face and lick your cheek.

Of course you knew when's Yunho's birthday. But when you found out from Mingi that Yunho's birthday is actually international puppy day too, you ate that up. Yunho has never hated his best friend more.

"Oh, you think that's funny? Huh?!" Yunho came over to tickle your sides, making you squeal. The puppy only grew more excited.

"Yunho! Stop!" You said between laughs.

"I know... What about Willow?" Yunho stopped tickling you, sitting back on his heels as he suggested. You laid on the ground, trying to catch your breath.

"That's so cute. Whiskey and Willow." You smiled. Yunho nodded, reaching over to wrap an arm around you.

"When do you start work?" Yunho asked.

"Next Friday." You replied, leaning against him. He hummed and kissed the top of your head.

During the last dinner of the vacation...

"Excuse me. Just let me take this." You stood up to answer your ringing phone, walking away. Yunho cast you a puzzled and slightly worried glance, he could hear you greet the person on the other end in your 'professional' voice.

"Hello, is this Miss (y/n) (y/l/n)?" The person on the other line asked.

"Yes, speaking?" You replied, leaning against the counter top.

"Good evening, Miss. I am representing the talent acquisition team at Anne Sophie Pic's group of restaurants. Is this a convenient time for you to talk?" He asked. Your eyes widened.

"Wow... Anne Sophie Pic? Yeah, of course. What can I do for you?" You tried your best to hide your surprise.

Anne Sophie Pic is a decorated chef in the world. She was famous and one of the top 3 female chefs of the current culinary industry.

"With the closure of our Singapore restaurant, we are going to open a branch in South Korea to maintain our presence in Asia. So we were wondering if you would be interested in working with us."

"Me? Really?" You couldn't even contain your shock.

"Yes, really. We are aware you have a team of 3 other chefs with you. If you and your team are interested, we would like you to head our team during the weekends. From Friday to Sunday, where we are at our busiest. As weekdays will be less crowded, we will not need the extra hands then." He explained.

"I understand, that actually works out for us. Thank you so much for this opportunity. Let me discuss with me team and I will get back to you as soon as I can." You said.

"Of course, I look forward to hearing from you soon. Hopefully with good news. Have a nice evening." He wished.

"You too." You replied and hung up. Seonghwa stood his feet, coming over to you. You threw your arms around his neck, making you him stumble back.

"Hwa..."

"What happened?" He asked.

"I-I... That call... We've been asked to work at Anne Sophie Pic's upcoming restaurant... They're opening a La Dame in Seoul and need chefs for the weekend." You looked at him.

"Wait, all of us?! Working at La Dame?!" Wooyoung and Jongho stood up, making their way over to you and Seonghwa. You nodded your head in confirmation, throwing your arms around them to hug them too. The others at the table was confused.

"What's going on?" Yunho asked.

"Anne Sophie Pic is this really great, famous chef. Fancy French restaurant and they just asked us to be in their weekend crew." You informed with a big smile.

"That's amazing! Congratulations." The boys all stood up and exchanged hugs. Yunho hugged you last, kissing your head.

"I knew others would see how amazing you are." He whispered, smiling down at you.

"Thank you. I can barely believe it myself. But it's also good news for your restaurant, Yun." You said, holding his arms. Yunho tilted his head in confusion.

"Being part of the weekend crew, we'll only be at La Dame from Friday to Sunday. That frees up Monday to Wednesday for us to work as usual at the restaurant." Jongho explained. You, Seonghwa and Wooyoung nodded. Yunho's eyes widened, he didn't even seem to realise it until Jongho mentioned it.

"So that means you all can still work at the restaurant?" He asked. You nodded again and everyone cheered, Yunho lifting you up.

"We'll find people to work the weekend when we're not around." Seonghwa said.

"That's great. See? I told you it'll work out, love." Yunho tucked your hair behind your ear, leaning in to give you a kiss.

"Let's get some drinks to celebrate!" Hongjoong declared, making you groan. Looks like it would be another night of you taking care of the 8 drunk babies.

The moment all of you got home, the 4 of you found some friends to help cover the weekends when your crew was not around. Opening night at La Dame Du Pic was next week and you've been ecstatic, especially since Anne Sophie was flying in to open it..

"Ah! Willow!" Yunho's exclaimation pulled you out of your flashback. He quickly got some paper towels to wipe up where Willow had peed on your floor.

"We should get some puppy things. I don't think Whiskey will appreciate Willow invading his space." You giggled.

"You already invaded his space by bringing her home." Yunho pointed out.

"But who can say no to this face?" You cooed, lifting Willow up. Yunho threw his head back in laughter. It was funny that he was 'siding' with Whiskey while you 'sided' with Willow.

"Ah okay." You let Willow go as she squirmed in your arms. She ran to Yunho, who ran and let the puppy chase after her.

"That's more like it." You leaned back on the couch. Whiskey came over and curled up in your lap, resting his head on his front paws.

"They can wear each other out." You chuckled as you stroked Whiskey's fur, making him purr in contentment. Yunho's laughs and Willow's puppy barks were heard throughout the apartment as the two golden retrievers ran around. The two black cats just sat on the couch, watching them.

"Oh, love. You went for your appointment, how was it?" Yunho came and sat by your side, remembering why he came over in the first place. You nodded with a hum.

"Come here." He hugged you, moving your body so it laid over his own. He stroked your head as he held you.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" He asked.

"I don't even know what to talk about. I barely know what to feel after everything that happened with my dad..." You sighed, burying your face in his chest.

"It's okay. It's a big thing, it'll take time to mentally come to terms with it." He patted your head.

"You're just like Whiskey when you lay on me like this. It's cute." He chuckled. You pinched his side, making him howl in pain.

"Oh, we should go get stuff for Willow before going to Hwa's place." You got up. Tonight, Seonghwa invited everyone over to his parents' house for dinner in the backyard. More like, his parents invited everyone over to celebrate the new job at La Dame Du Pic.

"Are we bringing her?" Yunho asked.

"Yeah, we should? Dinner will be in the backyard so it'll be fine to let her run around. Plus, I don't trust her to not annoyed Whiskey while we're not around." You said, going to the room to change.

"Right." Yunho got up too. Yunho kept his house since the others boys went over to game from time to time. But he mostly stayed at yours.

"I got the wine to give to Hwa's parents and- What are you doing?" You asked, seeing Yunho cradle Whiskey.

"I'm saying goodbye to Whiskey. He may feel left out, you know?" He reminded, swinging Whiskey from side to side like a baby. You raised an eyebrow.

"If that's what you think, Yun. I bet Whiskey loves having the house to himself." You chuckled and went to find Whiskey's old crate.

"Willow." You called after putting a small blanket inside. Willow tilted her head and stared at you. You held her and put her in the crate, closing the gate. She settled in surprisingly quietly, probably feeling tired from all the running around. You filled Whiskey's food bowl and water before going to him.

"I'll see you later, baby." You kissed his head, scratching his ear, and he licked your finger.

"Come on, love." Yunho held his hand out to you, his other hand holding the crate with Willow. You slipped your hand into his and headed out the door with him.

"She's so cute when she's sleeping." Yunho cooed, lifting the crate to take a good look at the sleeping puppy.

"You hold her, I'll drive." You said.

"Yay, passenger princess." Yunho cheered. Just as he was going to put the crate in the back, Willow woke up momentarily, whimpering and pawing at the gate.

"Alright, alright. You can sit with me." Yunho said and let Willow sit in his lap, in the blanket.

"Look at you warming up to her." You laughed. You stopped outside the pet store and grabbed a cart, walking ahead while Yunho was supposed to be trailing behind you. But you guessed he wasn't because he suddenly ran up to you with Willow in his arms.

"(y/n) don't leave me alone again. These women keep staring at me... It's scary." He whimpered, practically gluing himself to your side.

"You're a good looking with your tall, prince-like self and carrying a puppy. People probably fantasize about 'ideal' boyfriends and see you." You pointed, poking his chest.

"Okay, firstly, I like that you call me good looking and all the other stuff. And secondly, how is that my fault?" He whined.

"Consequences of being handsome. Welcome to the real world, buddy." You patted his arm.

"This should fit." You grabbed the puppy harness.

"Can you not ignore how I am feeling victimised and objectified right now?" Yunho pouted. It was hard to take him seriously with Willow in his arms and him being all childishly whiny.

"What do you want me to do, Yun? There's no way I can make you un-handsome." You shrugged.

"Give me a kiss. Stake your claim." He demanded. You raised an eyebrow at his demand, leaning your head back as you shot him a weirded out look. But Yunho wasn't going to take no for an answer so he used his free hand, grabbed your chin to bring you close and pressed his lips against yours.

"Ah, enough. I think they get the message." You chuckled when you pulled away, reaching up to wipe the lip gloss that smeared on the corner of his lip.

"Kisses for you too, Willow." You smiled and kissed her head. She licked your cheek, the ticklish feeling making you laugh.

"You give kisses to Willow and Whiskey so generously. I call favouritism." Yunho said.

"You shouldn't be jealous of our kids." You chided and picked up a bag of dog food. Even if you said that casually, Yunho's cheeks grew red when you said 'our kids'. The prospect of it made him flustered.

"Here. Let me." Yunho passed Willow to you and picked up the heavy tray of food.

After getting some other essentials and a dog bed, you and Yunho headed for the checkout. Seeing the girl smile sweetly at him, Yunho grasped your hand.

"Do you want me to hold Willow, love?" Yunho smiled at you, emphasizing the pet name.

"I'm good, Yun. Thanks." You kissed his cheek. Fine, if it makes him feel better, you'll play along. Yunho had a smug smile as he paid for the items. For you, it was amusing seeing the cashier's face fall at Yunho's very obvious display of love and affection for you.

"Let's go." His eyes were only on you. You nodded and walked out with him. He put all the items in the back and sat in the passenger seat again. You placed Willow on his lap.

"Sure you don't want me to drive? I don't mind while you hold Willow." He asked.

"I'm good. Plus, the Park's doorman recognises me." You said. Yunho's eyes widened as the mention of a doorman.

"How rich is Seonghwa hyung's family that he has a doorman?"

"Uh, rich? I don't know." You shrugged. It was odd to drive to that area, considering your father's house was only two doors down from where Seonghwa's was.

"Woah... That house is huge! Is that Seonghwa hyung's house?" Yunho asked in disbelief, nearly pressed up against the window.

"No... That's actually my house. Or the house I grew up in." You cleared your throat.

"Oh, wow." Yunho didn't know whether to react in awe or disgust. He was truly amazed at the size of the house, an indication of how you grew up. But then he remembers how you told him you were always forced to go for dinner parties and events so he already sort of knew that your family was wealthy.

"You don't have to react negatively, Yun. It's just a house. I won't be mad." You chuckled, already knowing him well enough to know his internal conflict. Yunho was always so thoughtful.

"Shall we go to Seonghwa's place now?" He turned to you. You nodded and began to drive.

"Mr Kim! It's me!" You rolled down the window and waved to the camera. The gate opened, the doorman recognising you.

"Wow. This house is huge too." Yunho said as he unbuckled his seatbelt. You nodded and got out of car, running up to a couple who was at the front doorstep. Yunho watched you hug them both.

"And they didn't even come out to greet me." Seonghwa came out with his arms crossed.

"Be jealous." You stuck your tongue out, happily hugging Seonghwa's parents. They were practically your parents too.

"This is my boyfriend, Yunho. Yun, this is Mr and Mrs Park." You stepped aside to introduce, taking Willow into your arms so he could shake hands with them. While they exchanged greetings, Seonghwa came to you.

"Who is this? Since when did you get a dog?" He asked, letting Willow sniff his hand.

"New daughter. Just got her today. Say hi to Uncle Hwa, Willow." You said, as if she was really a child that could talk. You lifted her arm to flap her paw at Seonghwa.

"Whiskey must not be impressed with you right now." Seonghwa raised his eyebrows, shaking his head.

"Whiskey is never impressed with anyone except Yunho. But I couldn't resist, she reminded me of Yunho." You rolled your eyes.

"Well, the universe works in mysterious ways." Seonghwa said. You tilted your head, confused by his sudden statement but he just laughed and walked into the house.

"Come in!" Mrs Park ushered all of you in. Mr Park walked with you. Yunho watched as you greeted all the staff with familiarity.

"Mr Kim! I missed you." You hugged the older gentleman in a suit.

"She's the only one that would greet the staff and thank them. Most people don't even bother to acknowledge the staff." Mrs Park smiled, turning to Yunho. Yunho nodded his head with an affectionate smile as he watched you. He was about to go up to you but Mr Park stood in the way and cleared his throat, staring Yunho up and down.

"Appa, stop being so protective of her. He's her boyfriend." Seonghwa scolded, holding Willow in his arms. Mr Park ignored his son, leading you out to the back, alone. And away from Yunho.

"Ignore him. She's the closest thing to a daughter that he has so he's overprotective." Seonghwa said.

"Understandable. They should catch up with one another." Yunho chuckled. The two went out to where the others were chilling.

"Who is this?!" Wooyoung squealed, seeing Willow.

"Her name is Willow. (y/n) saw her at some shelter adoption this morning and brought her home." Yunho explained. Yeosang grinned and stroked Willow's head.

"I'll let her down to run if that's okay? We have a fence around the backyard anyway." Seonghwa asked. Yunho nodded in approval.

"We'll bring the food out soon. Grab a plate and help yourselves." Mrs Park said to everyone. Yunho saw you sitting with Mr Park, a little separated from the group, the two of you talking about something. He gave the two of you privacy.

"Hey." You came back over. Yunho wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close. You watched the boys all play with Willow, cooing at how cute she was.

"Come here." Jongho squeaked one of the puppy toys that Yunho took out from the car.

"Everything okay?" Yunho asked, kissing the top of your head.

"Mhmm." You hummed, not offering any details about what you talked about. Yunho wouldn't push. He just rubbed your back.

"Food's here!" Hongjoong called the two of you. You went to the table to see the spread that Seonghwa's parents got the chef to prepare. There was so much food.

"Isn't it funny that the black cat and golden retriever couple adopted a black cat and a golden retriever? Plus, (y/n) gets along with Willow more while Yunho gets along with Whiskey." San chuckled.

"That's why I said, the universe works in mysterious ways." Seonghwa nodded in agreement.

"We can hear you, you know?" You raised an eyebrow while Yunho sighed and shook his head. You and Yunho have just learnt to accept the others calling your relationship with Yunho the 'black cat and golden retriever' dynamic.

"It's cute. It's like fate giving you the animal versions of yourselves to take care of. The two of them will get along just fine." Yeosang pointed out, making everyone laugh.

"I only believe that because of the way Willow and Yunho were happily chasing each other around earlier." You laughed.

"Yeah, like how you and Whiskey lounged on the couch and just watched." Yunho rolled his eyes.

"Grab a champagne flute everyone. We would like to make a toast before we eat." Mr and Mrs Park gestured. You stood with Yunho, arms around each other.

"Ah, omma... appa..." Seonghwa facepalmed in embarrassment but Mrs Park shushed him.

"Seonghwa hyung's parents make good toasts. Take note, Yunho hyung." Jongho teased. Mingi, who overheard, snickered at his best friend while Yunho threatened to kick Jongho.

"Thank you all for coming today, it's a pleasure to meet all of you. I know you're all under the impression we wanted to do this to celebrate (y/n), Seonghwa, Wooyoung and Jongho receiving the job offer to work at La Dame Du Pic. Yes, congrats to them, we're proud of all 4 of you." Mr Park smiled.

"Aww, thank you." The 4 of you smiled.

"But it's also to congratulate and celebrate the rest of you too." Mrs Park added, making the others look at each other in confusion.

"Hongjoong, for receiving new projects for your custom fashion pieces. San and Yeosang, for being offered trainer roles at the gym." Mr Park spoke.

"Mingi, for being a great friend and supporting Yunho even before the restaurant opened. As well as all your efforts towards the restaurant to keep it going." Mrs Park smiled.

"And last but not least, Yunho. You're the reason this family was brought together in the first place." She turned to the tall male.

"Yes, we are a family. And always will be." San agreed.

"You've all done great work, together and on your own. We wish all of you nothing but continued success." They said.

"Cheers to all of us!" All of you raised your glasses. You looked up at Yunho, who looked down to meet your eyes. Yunho wiped the stray tear that slipped down your cheek.

"I love you." You smiled tearfully at Yunho. You wouldn't ask for anything more. Each of the 8 boys with you, especially with Seonghwa being on one side and Yunho being on the other, Whiskey and the newest edition to your family, Willow.

"I love you too. Forever." Yunho smiled softly, leaning down to press his lips against yours.

~

Series masterlist

[writingficsanddaydreams]

His Eyes

Mihawk x gn!reader

Summary: you may dislike eye contact, but that doesn’t make his eyes any less mesmerizing

Content: some fluff, a little romance. They’re on a mission. Reader is autistic.

A/N: this is a shorter piece, just a snippet of an idea really, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it. So now I’m making you all think about it too! Like all my stories, Mihawk is based on a mix of his live action personality, and the little bit I know from watching some of the anime and reading the manga quite literally years ago.

—————————————

Dracule Mihawk. A great warlord of sea. A man so powerful that his very presence makes others stop and step back wherever he goes, who can freeze a person in place with just his intense, piercing gaze.

You love his gaze.

You love the color of his eyes, the way that lantern light plays across the striking yellow, bringing out those hints of gold. You love the shape of them, the way his eyebrows furrow, that little line that forms above his nose when he’s so focused. You love how he can seem to command a room with his gaze alone.

His eyes are mesmerizing.

“How is it you can stare at me, yet request I avoid the same?”

His words send a shiver through you, one that strengthens as he turns that gaze briefly your way. His arm is is draped carefully across the back of the tavern booth, his fingers just brushing your shoulder.

You shrug and smile—just a little smile, the one you practiced because you know it secretly makes him pleased, even if smiling doesn’t come naturally to you.

“It’s not like I command you,” you tease, even as you draw your knees closer to your chest to better balance your sketchbook and lean slightly into him. You like sitting like this, both because it lets you naturally look away when he does decide to stare at you, and because you love the feeling of his nearness as you lean slightly into his side.

“Hmm.” He turns his gaze away. You quickly peak up at him and are pleased to see the slightest twitch to his own lips, a hint of his own smile.

He’ll never show it, not here in this tavern where every other person subtly watches him. But it’s there, and you’ve enjoyed drawing it out of him since you started working together as temporary partners. Especially since you started to be something more…

You turn back to your own work, drawing your fountain pen across the thick sketchbook paper.

A line here. A small adjustment there. You let yourself fall into the art, even as you listen to the conversations murmuring around you.

The din of voices can be overwhelming at times, painful even when so many noises echo together, but useful. You’ve learned ways to manage it, found tools to let you block out the sound when it’s too much and learned how to sort through the sounds when you do have the energy for it.  Now you sit and listen, letting your art pull you slightly away from it all, even as snippets of conversation come and go.

“…can’t believe that seller cheated me! I…”

“…Mihawk here…?”

“…will drink you under the table…”

“…think Garp sent him? Does he know we…”

You still your pen, glancing only slightly up from the page. That conversation was from not too far away. The targets.

“You noticed them too,” comments Mihawk, in that eternally bored, yet oh so confident tone.

“What now?” you ask, turning your gaze back to your sketchbook. “Capture them here or flush them out?”

If you were working alone, you would probably wait for them to leave on their own, then follow them and complete the mission once away from all the noise and bustle of the tavern. But it’s fun to work Mihawk’s way as well, to see just what it is that makes him so simultaneously feared and respected. You find it fascinating how he toys with his targets at times, as if a job is simply a game to him. 

“It has been quiet lately. A chase might be entertaining.”

You grin, even as you carefully try to capture a slight shimmer of light in your sketch. 

This is the part you find so fascinating.

The way he can inspire or horrify people with just a glance. The way he moves so carefully and intentionally through his work, even as he sometimes treats it as a way to relieve the boredom of being truly the best. The way he knows how good he is, knows his power and wears it like a cloak.

You know the moment he turns his gaze from a casual analysis of the room to a hunter spotting its prey. 

It’s in the slight gasps as that muted conversation staggers to a halt. The sharp sense of fear that drifts through the tavern. The way Mihawk’s intense gaze cuts straight through the crowded tables and towards the targets, even as everyone else breathes in relief that it’s not aimed at them.

You’ve done this just enough times now to know that soon your targets will try to leave, try to flee.

Then it will be time to act.

For now though, you enjoy leaning into your warlord, carefully drawing your pen across a sketchbook page as you capture the dangerous beauty of his vivid eyes.

[johnwickb1tsch]

Sympathy for the Devil ~ Part 17

A Donaka Mark x housekeeper!Reader fic, based on @discoscoob 's concept & bot! An unlikely flirtation turns into a dark obsession... Warnings: Donaka Mark is a bad man with a soft spot for you. dark romance, possessive behavior, nonconsensual voyeurism, red flag red flag girl!🔺, psychological games, power imbalance, eventual dubcon/nsfw/involuntary captivity. all chapters

Seventeen. 十七

If it seemed like your friend Mei wanted to gossip with you before, she avoids you now, refusing to meet your eyes. It makes you feel even more isolated, and you wonder what Mrs. Leung told the staff about you. Probably something like, ‘Don’t speak to the whore, but we have to feed her…’

One day, when Donaka is gone you wander into the kitchen to find her alone, and you manage to catch her before she can flee. “Mei?”

“Miss y/n.” She bows her head to you, and you feel wretched. 

“Just y/n.” 

She nods, but doesn’t say it. 

“You can…talk to me?” You don’t think it will get her into trouble, at least. 

She nods again, her eyes downturned, and you realize she feels guilty. That she probably knows what’s going on with you and Mr. Mark, and that you’re not allowed to leave the house anymore. If you were in a normal relationship, that wouldn’t be a factor. It’s pretty obvious you are a mistress under duress, but after Donaka’s comment about Jason, you are more conscious of how your actions might affect the lives of the staff around you.

“It’s ok,” you try to assure her. Maybe you’re trying to assure yourself too. “I’m ok.”

She looks up at you with narrowed eyes, like she’s not convinced. Very quietly she admits, “I heard you scream….?” 

Which time, you wonder? Just the thought makes the bite on your inner thigh ache. How insane has your life become, that you have to ask yourself that question.  

“We were just playing a game,” you try to assure her. 

Mei thinks on this, and you can tell she’s not exactly convinced. “I don’t expect you…to do anything for me, or tell anyone anything,” you tell her quietly. “You don’t have to worry about me, ok? I'm good.” You know she has family that she supports with this great paying job. You don’t expect her to endanger that, or herself. You haven’t given up on getting out, but you’ve decided you will do it yourself. 

You can tell that she’s relieved to hear this, nodding emphatically. “Ok.”

There might be some irony, in that if you’d watched Donaka do the same thing to her, you absolutely would have tried to do something about it. Tried, probably being the operative word, but still. But then, like Donaka said at the very beginning: you are spoiled. You’d have your safety net, if you could make it back home. Mei doesn’t, and that is where men like Donaka Mark get their power. It’s a sad truth about the world, and you don’t blame Mei one iota for it. 

“I need this job, y/n,” she tells you quietly, as though her guilt is still not assuaged. “My sister is sick with cancer. She’s just a baby…” Her eyes fill with tears, and without thinking you reach for her hand. 

“Don’t you all have state healthcare here?” you ask, perhaps naively. 

“Yes, but wait times are too long. She needs private treatments now. Very expensive.”

“Oh.” You feel terrible for her, and feel utterly useless when she starts to cry, and all you can do is offer her a hug. When the worst of it has subsided you sit her down, and make yourselves a pot of tea, sure you are butchering it even though you’ve watched it done many times now. If Mrs. Yeung comes after you for it you’ll fight her, and if Donaka is displeased you’ll fight him too. 

As the two of you sit at the island with oolong and nut snacks Mei sniffles, but seems to feel a little better. 

“So…” You are relieved to see there is a hint of that old mischievous sparkle in Mei’s eyes, as she leans in conspiratorially. “What’s he like?” 

You give a long whistle in answer, and the two of you break out in peals of laughter. By the time she goes back to work you feel like something has healed between you, and for some reason you feel a little bit better.   

***

Later, you are with Donaka in his media room. He is watching his beloved tournament footage, and you are naked, lying across his lap. His fingertips ghost lightly back and forth from your hair to down your spine, petting you for a job well done you suppose. Ten minutes ago he fucked you over the back of the couch–and you hate to admit that you’d enjoyed it as much as he did. 

“I didn’t hear you gossiping about me to the servants earlier today, did I?” he asks casually. 

You sense the trap in this seemingly innocuous question, like a deadfall of spikes covered by branches on the jungle floor. You answer without missing a beat. “You heard me diffuse a situation for you,” you counter. “You’re welcome, by the way.” 

“Hmm. What were you laughing about then?” 

“It’s a girl thing, dear. You wouldn’t understand.” 

This wins you a dark chuckle, and strangely, he lets it go. 

You’d always suspected, but now you know for sure that he is listening as well as watching, everywhere you go. It is something you will not forget. Laugh it up, you think. You will rack up these trust points, and someday you will cash them in for your freedom, or so you tell yourself.

Or maybe…you will borrow now. 

“Mei is a sweet girl.” 

“Yes,” he answers absently, his eyes fixed on the screens. 

“Her sister is very sick.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Strangely, you believe him. 

“The wait times for the free clinics are long.” 

“Hmm.” 

Your heart is suddenly pounding in your chest, as you gauge how far you can go. You decide that planting the seed will have to do for now. If you annoy him while he’s watching his martial artists it will backfire on all of you. 

You shift your head so that you can see the screens. A young man in a white traditional tai chi fu is fighting, and he elegantly wipes the floor with his opponent.

“That’s tai chi?” you ask with disbelief. 

“Interesting, isn’t it?” 

“Yeah, it is,” you agree. Little do you know the Pandora’s box you opened with that small statement. 

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

all chapters

[spacedlexi]

So I was rewatching berleezy's twd s4 and someone in the comments said it was interesting that Clementine (determinately) can believe there's no life inside of walkers when her parents were found together and they were assumably walkers for those 6 months she and lee were together. Meaning they could've wandered off and separated but they were found together after all that time. (It's more than likely for plot but it's still an interesting point) Thoughts on that? Also any headcanons on her parents? (Or art 🥺👉🏾👈🏾) have you watched berleezy's playthrough???

well walker tenn still does the hand thing. and you could apply that idea to clems parents still standing together after all that time. maybe some deep part of them compels them to move that way, to stay close to those people. what made them Them is still in there somewhere even if theyre gone. its something S4 Wants you to think about. is there really Nothing left of who they were once theyve turned? i think there is. on some level. the person may be gone, but some part of them still remains

i like that since they do the "humans are the real monsters" thing that every zombie thing does (which ultimately i feel is what zombie media is About (plus our capacity for love and community. great love and great evil)) they leaned into that idea of well if the zombies arent the real monsters then what are they? theyre just their own thing. any creature just trying to survive, even if theyre dangerous. once they were a person who lived a life and had people who loved them. and now theyre This. i joke when i call james the neighborhood cat lady but like... yeah. S4 is very explicitly about what makes someone a "monster". willing to do evil things (or willing to stop doing them) and at what point there is no return, and when you have to let go of them. but does that not also apply to the walkers? there is no return for them either, and you still have to let go (or die with them), no matter how much of who they were is still in there somewhere

S4 is very philosophical about its themes and wants You to come to a conclusion on the ideas its presenting to you. it Is a choice game after all. i do believe walkers are walkers. but that doesnt mean there isnt still a part of who they were in there somewhere. both can be true

and yes i watched berleezy cuz he was the only one i could find who actually liked vi and her romance 😭 (and who didnt not save her/get her killed). so many people were so apathetic or weird with her while still choosing to romance her i couldnt take it anymore WHERE IS THE ENERGY?? his reaction to vi shooting minnie is the reaction you Should be having in that scene. thats how i get every time i see it 😩

[afreakingdork]

You Are My Sunshine, My Only Moonshine - Chapter 8

RotTMNT x Reader

What's with that call, Ump!? Leo's a bit of a pitch point in this week's chapter art by funneylizzie

Rated: Teen and Up Audiences

Relationships: Michelangelo (TMNT)/Reader, Michelangelo (TMNT)/You, Donatello (TMNT)/Reader, Donatello (TMNT)/You

Warnings: POV Second Person, Gender Neutral Reader, Anxious Reader, Introverted Reader, Stuttering, Aged-Up Mutant Ninja Turtles, Romance, Love, Love Confessions, Falling In Love, Unrequited Love, Rejection, Aromantic Asexual Michelangelo (TMNT), Bisexual Donatello (TMNT), Pansexual Leonardo (TMNT), Lesbian Cassandra Jones | Foot Recruit, Demisexual April O'Neil (TMNT), Implied Cassandra Jones | Foot Recruit/April O'Neil/Sunita, Endgame Donatello (TMNT)/Reader, Romantic Love, Platonic Love, Panic Attacks, Sexuality Crisis, Agoraphobia, Social Anxiety, Happy Ending, Fluff

Synopsis:  You’ve lost most of your life to anxiety and fear. Now, in your late 20s, you are desperate to reclaim it and during one such outing you encounter the sun personified. With his and his similarly celestially inspired family, will you finally reach your goal or will you lose yourself along the way?

Also available on Ao3

First 💛 Previous

You were dying.

Not in a medical sense though if you were to be strapped into some type of machine, you imagined your charts would be something worthy of a medical journal. Your heart was pounding out of your chest, you felt lightheaded, your ears were ringing, your skin felt aflame, sweat dotted the back of your neck against the hairs that stood up there, and somehow amongst all that, you found time to do the wave with the rest of the crowd.

Returning to your seat, though your panic attack refused to join in, you shrank as much as you could. It meant squishing against an unrelenting mix of wood or plastic or whatever the bright bench was made of. The hat on your head did little as an additional layer of protection especially when Leo shot up from the row in front of you.

“ARE YOU EVEN WATCHING UMP!? DO US ALL A FAVOR AND SIGN UP FOR LASIK, YOU BLIND BAT!!!”

A baseball game.

Why had you ever agreed to come to a baseball game?

Because you said yes.

Because you were supposed to say yes.

Because that was the whole supposed point to bettering yourself.

You had to push yourself out of your comfort zone.

Mikey was supposed to help you. 

You should have known hitching your wagon to some great joy would come with karma. 

This was your pittance for your strange friendship agreement. 

Said man would also be your greatest ruin. 

As if on cue and despite yourself, you looked over at said man. Dressed up in way more merch than everyone else, he was his usual beaming ball of incandescent gas. He swam in so much memorabilia that it was hard to believe he could see the field and yet when Leo collapsed back into the seat in front of him, Mikey leaned forward to poignantly discuss whatever contested call you had missed.

Of your current lineup, Raph, Mikey and you had seats in one row while April, Leo, and Donnie had the next. The jockeying for position had been a violent one and you’d opted out of the drawn straws. It seemed poignant that you would accept whatever was left as that was how you acquired your ticket. The only reason you were even here was because Splinter had thrown out his back again and some as of yet unseen man named Draxum refused to accommodate what he apparently called silly human rituals.

Of which had you seated at an example of America’s greatest pastime and another family outing. New York, in her efforts to better embrace mutant kind, had offered up both discounted and specialty seating for mutants in a show of solidarity. At first and predictably, said tickets were highly scrutinized by the Hamato. They had bad blood with baseball stadiums and as such weren’t sure if the entire thing was a trap. In the end, being able to openly attend a game had won out. Thankfully, this didn’t seem like a ruse and so far it was what you assumed should occur during a baseball game. 

Not that you had ever been. 

Sporting events were meant to be seen through screens. 

Yet you wanted more.

You had to be selfish.

You had to rise above your station.

Look where greed got you.

You were having a panic attack and about to ruin everyone’s day. The Hamato finally had a chance to go out and be a part of life as they always deserved. Something you casually threw away on a daily basis. The insult to injury was not lost on you as you spiraled uselessly, but it was the drain you were rounding that threatened to swallow you up. The stakes only made the fall that much steeper. It was your body's fault.

Not something built for bus rides or capitalistic toils, your faulty neurons sent out the wrong chemicals at even worse times. Your adrenaline was confused. It wasn’t in its usual containment unit which you liked to imagine was a rickety old box from some old horror movie. The beast had, of course, escaped and went on a rampage that wasn’t its fault. It wasn’t meant to be there at all. It was meant to be stowed away somewhere safe. It wasn’t meant to be among screaming fans and thus it left your body in ruins with what you could only label as your worst case scenario.

You would soon pass out.

It’d be a thing because it always was. Doctors would understand and throw benzos at you, but for the layman, passing out was something dying people did. 

Good thing it felt exactly like that.

No, fear was the mind killer.

It was the little death.

You’d expire here in the stands and they’d do little more than memorialize you on a bench. 

No, you were avoiding that kind of talk. 

Focus.

What was the rest of the quote?

It was somewhere in your brain.

You could walk back from the ledge.

You had managed before with only minor catastrophizing.

In fact, you’d only actually passed out from panic attacks a handful of times in your life.

A doctor had once told you something.

What’s the worst that could happen?

So you passed out. 

So what?

You would wake up and be fine. 

You would be okay.

The stupid idiot probably hadn’t had a panic attack in his whole life.

No, that was mean.

You had wherewithal which was a good sign. Since panic attacks came from the brain, working through them always seemed like a war against one’s self. You had to be smarter, more clever, and flexible as the same trick to stop them never seemed to work twice. There were some consistencies; it was never good to focus on symptoms because that would mean you were ultimately prone. Given a momentary distraction and since mantras weren’t currently working, you thought maybe you could save yourself with memories. Just as the recollection of your doctor has inspired ire instead of further illness, you moved to comb through what had occurred most recently. Since the ballgame itself had caused your current state, you inched backwards to what had occurred just before it.

It wasn’t the best choice, but Raph had been memorable if nothing else.

As soon as you had entered the park, the oldest brother had diverted your course with his giant form. You tried to glance at the others only to find them wishing various forms of good luck as they got to go to your seats. It had taken you an alarming amount of time to remember Donnie’s warnings. You imagined that was the moon’s way to warn without pretense. It was how night was foreboding and it didn’t immediately illuminate how the ground could shake. It was Raph’s way as the solid earth to find a suitable area behind a beam for his discussion. It was just open enough that others would pass, but the privacy afforded said those walking by would do just that. As others went to get food, hit the restrooms, or find their seats, you were stuck as Raph gave you his shovel talk.  

It was highs and lows as his hero side was at obvious odds with the supposed necessity to strike fear into you. For each time he tried to warn you about hurting Mikey, he’d also backtrack by quickly adding that there would be no actual injuries at your expense. It made for an odd display that reminded you very much of their ninpo demonstration. They were heroes with the power’s of gods and yet they were also wisecracks and had insecurities the same as any other. They were both regular people and far beyond mere mortals. 

By the end, the content hadn’t necessarily struck fear into your heart, but the way Raph’s finger had pointed accusatorily into your chest spoke to more. You were treading dangerous waters and Raph had been the first to actually confirm it. You had long worried about that exact fact yourself, but you had only gotten Donnie and Mikey’s takes so far. Both were painfully bias and, though it was obvious Raph was as well, he had a different edge. For him, he’d been fussing over his super powered siblings his whole life and knew the faults better than anyone. 

He was a good big brother, you thought as he dotted off the conversation by putting his giant paw on your head. He rubbed affection there and airily said he had faith that you probably wouldn’t come to any bad end. It was there again, that odd assurance the Hamato all had in themselves, and you stewed on it as Raph led you to your seats. It was there that you had entered the killing floor where the first anxieties cropped up as the group was agitated because they’d missed the opening pitch due to Leo’s refusal to be the portal bus.

From there you’d stumbled step by step into a panic attack as the sour mood was compounded by the growing noise. It was as if being trapped in a room filling with water as the terrible cacophony drowned you. It spoke of the amount of people in the stands which was daunting enough. This was a special day; mutants and humans colored your stands as a means to represent the lovely tapestry of the city. A commingling of all types, this was the lifeblood and solidarity that American life touted but never achieved. You should have felt a sense of pride at having been a part of it.

All you felt was dismay that you were about to ruin it.

Each step was a threat of falling. Both metaphorically and physically, you imagined yourself tripping down the stairs. You would bust your head open and the leaking blood would light some planted naysayer. They would use you as their excuse that mutant’s were a threat to humanity. 

That might be a little too dramatic. 

It was far more likely that you’d knock over someone’s drink. It would then tumble in a chain reaction that would somehow cause a foam finger to fly out onto the field. There it would hit the bat boy who would strike the mascot who would then roll out onto the field and interrupt a great run. 

Mutant’s Ruin Big Leagues!

The headline would run for years.

You would be little more than a footnote. 

You were the stepping stone for hatred.

You’d pave the way no matter what.

You were spiraling.

Going through your memories had led you back to misery. 

The claws of anxiety were dug into your back and the symptoms were playing out yet again. Any movement at all was akin to a scalping. A player hit a ball for a crack that deafened your swimming ears before the contradictory roar of the crowd fried what was left of your nerves. Left battered and to drain in your seat, the other’s rallied and you were left burning under an exaggerated heat lamp. 

Your pocketful-of-sunshine partner had done very little. Mikey had not registered any of your distress though you couldn’t blame him. There were no obvious outward signs of anxiety until it was too late. From the outside you’d simply appear to faint. Only those studying you would notice how tight your jaw was or how your pupil shook. With Mikey’s helmet, flags, and sticks, there was no way he could see anything so small even if he were to check in.

He couldn’t know that trying to verbalize in this state made it worse. The labor of speech was yet another stressor. If this attack’s onset hadn’t been an immediate one, you might have been able to warn someone. Instead it had been a flash in the pain occurrence which meant you were using every ounce of your sanity to not succumb. 

You could stave this off.

You had before.

Raph whooped loud to announce his return from the concession stand. 

The others readied themselves. 

This day wasn’t for you. 

This was for them. 

You weren’t going to ruin it. 

You were still conscious.

You were still here.

“Finally!” Leo’s mouth slacked around his annoyance. “Dog me, bro!” He held up a hand as if to catch it.

Raph only stared where his arms were totally full. “No.”

“Not even!” April’s head popped out from behind Raph’s form. “C’mon and help pass everything out if you’re so eager.”

“Fine!!” Leo whined long and loud as he got up.

Food and drinks were distributed and you butted your arm against Mikey’s cup. Ice cold condensation one of the best mediators, you let it chill your arm as Raph’s load lightened. Feeling a little more present, you watched as Donnie received a wrapped sandwich which signaled the last of the snapper’s load.

“Where’s my hot dog?”

“Uh…” Raph strung out the sound looking to April who shrugged her shoulders, hands empty.

“My chili cheese dog!?” Leo spoke a little louder.

“It’s, uh… we totally ordered it, didn’t we, April!?”

“S-sure… did…” Her eyes darted away. “I coulda swore…”

“One request! No drink! No nothing! I ask for a hot dog, all beef, the classic, covered in musty chili from a burned pot and cheese so plastic it’s going to be killing a fish in the ocean long after I’m dead and gone!!!”

“Leo, it’s just a-” Mikey started up, chips falling from his square nacho container.

“Don’t!” Leo flew over his seat to slam a finger into Mikey’s lips. “Don’t you dare, of all people, besmirch the name of America’s single greatest ballpark food by saying ‘it’s just a hot dog.’”

“Could be boiled peanuts.” Donnie remarked casually, obviously relishing a chance to fuel the fire.

“Nuts?! Where?!” Raph ducked and knocked over his drink.

“None I’d let near you, Red King.” Donnie crooned. 

The cup hit the ground and dripped down toward Leo.

Leo screamed at the trickle which silenced several rows and sent your blood pressure through the roof.

No amount of cold cola was going to save you now.

Coming off his screech, Leo slammed a foot off onto the steps and made it clear he was going to storm off. “If you’re going to do something! You have to do it yourself, apparently!!”

Muttering a string of curses over how his family couldn’t do a single thing right, Leo led bowlegged fury up the stairs.

“Well, he’s been a peach tonight!” Raph turned, not looking the least bit guilty. “Damage control?”

“I’ll make it worse.” Donnie spoke, breezy.

April snatched his sandwich away.

Donnie glowered at her before spinning to Mikey. “Rock, paper, scissors, again.”

Mikey shook his head. “I actually got this one, I think. I know one of the chef’s and I think I can get Leo into a box. That’ll fix his mood right up.”

“That’s teamwork!” April cheered, throwing a hand out which Mikey high fived.

“Take this and cheer in my stead!” Mikey spun away from the maneuver and poured an avalanche of goods onto your form. Fumbling all of it and the food then placed on top, he was halfway up the stairs before he called back. “Mine is yours! Have fun!”

Dismay.

You looked over your shoulder with tears in your eyes.

The sweep returning to the field was an abysmal one.

Another scream tore through the crowd.

Raph nearly matched April’s volume. 

Loud.

Everything was too loud.

The ringing wouldn’t stop.

Food, colors, it swirled all too much in your lap.

It then drained. 

Away, away.

You mechanically dumped what you could into Mikey’s empty seat and watched your hands shake violently as you retreated.

You squeezed them to your chest.

It was too much.

Electric discharge went through your brain without proper release.

The cage wasn’t cracked, it was busted.

Without repair.

In a blink, you saw the vignette.

That was the final symptom.

You were about to pass out.

Body screaming amongst everything else, you swirled with the dizziness as fainting came on.

Silence encircled you.

You blinked slowly into something purple.

You could still see.

That didn’t make sense.

Your hearing always went after your vision. 

It always occurred the same way. 

There was a moment of dark, after your vision was cut, that preceded the memory loss of unconsciousness.

It shouldn’t be quiet yet. 

Something squeezed your cheeks.

You gasped a breath.

One that sucked greedily on wakefulness.

It was so blessedly quiet.

Your hands moved to your ears on instinct. 

You felt warmth under your fingertips, but not on your head. 

Either you did or didn’t have your sense of touch; the lopsided nature didn’t make sense. 

A small stroke of your pads said you were touching skin. 

There shouldn’t be anyone else’s on your head and confusion carried you to a sort of clarity.

Another squeeze.

It was a reminder to breathe. 

You were supposed to breathe.

You sucked a quaky one and caught hold of a wrist.

It was so close to your face that it didn’t make sense.

Then you saw eyes.

Or rather, you finally comprehended there was a pair close to yours.

Concern painted in dark depths, it took several blinks for you to register its owner.

Donnie had his hands around your head.

‘What are you doing?’ It felt like you mouthed the words because you couldn’t hear them.

You couldn’t hear anything.

‘Panic attack.’ Donnie enunciated slowly so you could catch the familiar mouth movements even though no sound reached you.

You nodded and squeezed your eyes shut to find tears dotting them.

When was the last time you blinked?

The burn said too long and you hunched forward.

Donnie came with you and prevented you from hitting the back of his seat.

Held steady, you felt weepy little whines in your throat and felt all the more pathetic.

You were having a panic attack.

Were.

You hadn’t passed out.

Blinking with recognition, exhaustion hit you.

Having run the equivalent of five marathons all while seated, you brought your gaze back up to him.

He waited there without judgment.

He held you, a steady current.

You caught his arms and squeezed.

He’d caught you at the precipice and you hadn’t gone over.

You gripped him in desperation as he felt like your only lifeline.

Twice now. 

Though the other was his own making, twice Donnie had held you together.

How did he feel being your handler?

How must he feel dealing with you?

You wondered how much guilt played a factor. 

You’d owe him at this rate. 

No matter what part he’d played then, he was your savior now and holding onto him felt like the only way for you to stay safe.

He was the only thing keeping you tethered to his plane.

Probably scratching at him with how pathetic you were, you felt him pull.

His raft keeping you afloat, you buoyed a little shake before you felt the warmth of his forehead hit yours.

A single contact point sent waves of heat throughout your body and with it a flood of a new kind of chemical.

One you didn’t currently have a name for, it was the coziness of being by a fire and warming of a bone deep chill.

You went a calculated slack against him and butted into his head to get a little more of those good feelings.

He allowed it and you settled into a soothing current.

His arms soon shifted, settling against the back of the seat separating the two of you and you wedged yourself between them as a ballast. Comfortable to a point minus the fact you very much wanted to sleep, you didn’t mourn much when he pulled his head away. Keeping his hands steady around you, you gave him a dopey expression for the solace he’d given you and he shook his head with a tiny smile in return.

He squeezed the sides of your head again and at first you thought it was admonishment, but you quickly felt there was something else there. His hands slid a little lower and you released your lock on him to explore what it was. Unable to move much further above his fingers, you brushed to find a band of metal. It revealed little and a twist within his palm found a circle encasing your ear. Whatever it was almost felt like headphones and with that thought you realized it was the goggles he always wore. 

You sent all your surprise toward him. 

You had no evidence of it, but the fact that you’d never seen him without them seemed to mean they were important. 

Except, for whatever reason, he’d placed them on your head. 

‘I’m sorry-!’

He pinched your cheek.

‘Ow!’

You earned another pinch.

Thinking maybe he didn’t want you to talk, you slicked your expression into a wounded one.

That got a bit of a smile and you decided he was a sadist as he tapped your left ear cover.

There was no sound and instead a vibration against your head. 

Unsure of what he wanted, you turned that direction and he curled his large hand around your ear before barely lifting the headset. Sound ate up the new real estate, but he quickly tucked his head beside yours to force it out. “Status?”

“Better?” You sounded raspy and you jolted a little now that you could hear yourself.

“Noise canceling.” He explained, his voice steady amongst the leaking sounds of a baseball game.

“Don’t… you need these?”

“Someone else needed them more.”

“How’d you know?” You rested your cheek against his.

He stiffened a little against you, but you weren’t sure if it was from the contact or the question.

Why was it so easy to be familiar with him?

You should be terrified of him. 

You should hate him. 

He seemingly appeared only during your worst moments. 

You were wrung out.

You would stop interacting with him like this another time. 

Now he was your life preserver. 

“I saw you. I noted the symptoms.” He hesitated once before adding, “I… know the feeling all too well…”

It was the content then.

You might not know the finer details, but from what the Hamato had saved the world from, you imagined the aftermath they dealt with was equally large.

“I’m sorry…” You mumbled back.

“If that’s for taking these then you know the repercussions.” The hand that was still cupping your face turned with fingers ready to snag your cheek. 

“No! The other thing! Def the other thing!”

“I never said.” You couldn’t see him, but you could feel his eyes narrow with suspicion. “Pity?”

“Understanding.” You rubbed your cheek against his to enforce your apology so he’d hopefully accept. “I’m sorry you know what this feels like.”

“I suppose I could say the same.” He ended his statement with a thoughtful hum.

“Thank you. You… you really saved me.”

“Statically speaking and based on your health records, a panic attack would not be lethal for you.”

“We really need to establish boundaries.” Your voice flattened out. 

“I gathered that information before.” He had a bit of a complaint to him. “As in when I was still evaluating your morality.” 

“Doesn’t make it okay. What if I got your doctor notes just because I thought you were a bad guy?”

“I’d applaud you for breaking into my system and try to fold you into my evil army.”

You pulled away to view him.

He shrugged nonchalantly, but it only further contested the great care he exhibited in making sure his hand still blocked out excessive noise.  

“How’d you notice? No one else did. Weren’t you watching the game?”

“I was until Leo threw his little temper tantrum.”

Donnie had watched Leo leave like everyone else. 

He was in front of you. 

He would have had to turn around. 

You would have been in his periphery.

You could only think of how very much that suited the moon.

Where the sun blasted its way through its stage, the moon was reflected light. It needed a source; it needed a certain level of attention. It also revealed. Where the sun poured out lumens indiscriminately, the moon carved out the dark. Seeking to reveal that which was hidden, it acted as an uncaring guiding light. A savior to many, its fickle nature turned the rest away.

You moved your hands over his and squeezed. “Thank you.”

“You’ve said that already.” He didn’t seem to care, exactly as you thought.

“Don’t like repetition?”

“I don’t like wasted time” He scoffed.

You jarred and his hands tightened like a wrench.

“Which this is not, to be clear! Do you understand?”

“No…?”

“I don’t need your thanks.” His brows came down, serious. “That’s superfluous. This.” He pressed your cheeks. “This I would do as long as necessary without a thought of complaint. There’s a difference. I’m saying it’s obvious.”

Your lids lowered.

You guessed it was.

“You missed the game…”

“Ah, yes. Missing how every few minutes the golden retriever mutant a few seats down will block my view and throw slobber around? Miss how Leo elbows me every time there’s a run? Miss the repulsive stickiness that seems to cling to this entire stadium and how no amount of hosing down will make me feel as though I’ve washed it off? Sure, I missed so much.”

You stared at him.

“That was sarcasm.” He felt the need to clarify. 

You laughed.

The sound came with a joyous feeling in your chest that you usually didn’t feel until after you’d slept off the effects of your panic attack.

Riding the high, your vision uncrinkled and you clipped the stunned expression on Donnie’s face.

Your lips dropping with a question, you might have teased him about it had something else broke through the barrier of Donnie’s hand. 

“Y/N!” Mikey yelled. 

You were released and the headphones dropped into place with Donnie only giving one quick squeeze to the left side.

The softshell returned to the game as if he’d never touched you.

“What happened? Are you okay?” Mikey kicked the junk in his seat out of the way to reach you.

You could hear him.

Glancing once at Donnie, you could also tell the rest of the stadium sounds were far quieter.

There must have been a setting he’d activated in that last touch.

Something that blocked out background noise.

“Y/N!!!” Mikey caught one of your hands where it was still hung in the air from the person you were once holding.

“I… I had a panic attack.” You explained in a voice that was probably too soft, but you weren’t sure how to modulate your volume with the headset dulling it yet.

Mikey’s crestfallen expression was quickly buoyed as he caught a glimpse of Donnie’s goggles. “So that’s what Donnie was doing! These help him a ton! Don!!” Mikey turned his joy on his brother.

Donnie might have stayed stubbornly away if Leo, who had also returned and was not sporting a mouth full of chili dog, hadn’t shoved an elbow into him. “Look at Dontron, over here! Being the hero all on his own!”

“Help was asked and I simply responded to an inquiry!” Donnie growled, clearly flicking his gaze to you in his periphery before it flew back to Leo.

You smiled.

“Are you alright now?” Mikey fussed, looking you over.

“Tired.” You admitted.

“We gotta put something on that glaring chrome dome!” Leo took off his hat and plopped it on Donnie’s head.

“Leo!” Donnie shrieked. “This has chili on it!!”

“A bonus!” Leo winked.

“Bonus this!” Donnie raised his fist, but Raph had the reach to catch it.

The older brother then quickly extracted the hat and smushed it and Leo back down into his respective seat. “How about we give Donnie a prize? I’m feeling kinda bad that Raph didn’t notice neither.”

“T-that’s okay…” Your hands came up.

“Downplay your reactions.” Donnie sneered at everyone but you. “You don’t feed panic attacks; you ignore them.”

“Then let’s enjoy the game!” April cheered and yanked Leo who splattered himself with more chili in the process.

“I suppose I wouldn’t say no to kettle corn however...” Donnie mumbled as he faced the field while craning a head to his arm for a lackluster display.

No one else reacted and you returned to find Mikey patiently smiling at you.

Had he not heard?

He was just as close.

You had a feeling it had something to do with the goggles.

“Can… can we get… kettle corn?” You asked Mikey.

“Of course! Maybe some water too? You haven’t had anything…”

“Yeah… sure…”

“Let’s go! Don’t worry if your legs are weak, I can lift four whole Raphs!”

“The projections don’t weigh as much as the original!” Raph chirped to annoy him.

Mikey pointedly ignored that and offered you his hand.

You took it. 

It had a certain warmth. 

You would try harder to tell Mikey next time. 

You couldn’t keep relying on Donnie to save the day. 

The purple brother invaded your thoughts and you tugged, ready to remove the goggles.

Donnie’s voice wafted into your ears. “Keep them.”

“But…” You stared at the back of his unmoving form

“Take care of them and return in one piece.”

You nodded.

“Y/N?”

“Huh?” You spoke absently. 

“Who are you talking to?” Mikey leaned into your vision.

You gave one final glance at Donnie before staring right into bright orange. “No one, let’s go.”

💛 NEXT 💛

Whoop thank you to my betas @tmntxthings and @thepinkpanther83