#like maybe i'm bad at tagging and writing summaries? which to be clear if i am

[luvo27]

Should i like. Be plugging my fics here? Because to be honest i kind of was of the mind that everyone who would care to read the things i write had already seen them

[nakylvr]

— ESPRESSO

kim donghyun "leehan" x gn!reader

summary: the coffee shop you regularly go to has a new employee, a kind male your age who always seems to write your name wrong. too bad you'll never notice his attempts at talking to you, right?

warnings/tags: fluff, barista!leehan, barista!taesan mention, mild language, super short sorry

my first boynextdoor post!! requests are open for these lovely lads 🫶 i might do a pt 2 for this but for now this is it!

"y-yn?"

you hear your name, or, an attempt to say your name as you stand aside from the front counter waiting for your coffee. you walk up and grab your drink from the employee, turning it around to see another complete butchering of your name written on the cup. when you look at who's working the cashier, you see the same male you've seen the past few weeks. the one who has taken your exact same order these past few weeks, and still manages to spell your name wrong leaving his coworkers struggling to pronounce whatever he wrote.

he's cute, which is the first thing you noticed about him. his hair long enough to outline his perfect face, his brown eyes that looked like they were chocolate, the warm smile he always had on his face. god, why did this place have to get all the cute people as employees? he must be new too, judging by the way he keeps looking back at his coworkers to ask questions about the drinks and what sizes they come in. also by how nice he seems to be for the overwhelming holiday season for local coffee shops.

as you take a sip of the drink, you look at the time on your watch and realize you're running late. walking by the front counter, you go right by the male who hesitantly reaches his arm out to try and talk to you, but you don't notice as you walk out the door putting your phone to your ear.

"do you really think this is going to work?" taesan asks leehan, leaning against the counter.

"positive," leehan nods his head. "it just...may take some time."

"yeah, no shit," taesan rolls his eyes. "what are you even trying to get out of this? i'm the one actually making the drinks. you just take the orders and spell their name wrong every time."

"well," leehan starts. "they're cute, and i want to get to know them."

"so you think by writing their name wrong repeatedly will want them to talk to you and not get irritated by your incapacity to spell?" taesan raises an eyebrow at his friend.

leehan lets out a sigh, dragging his hands down his face. "i don't know! i'm trying, okay?!"

"terribly," taesan mutters. "maybe actually try to have a conversation with them. you never know what could happen." he shrugs lightly.

"yeah, i guess," leehan nods.

the next morning, you walked into the coffee shop looking like you got up five minutes prior. you got essentially no sleep the previous night, and were in desperate need for a strong coffee instead of your usual. you stop in front of the counter and a male walks up to it from behind it, the same one you'd seen the past few weeks.

"hi," he says with a smile. "you gonna get your-"

"i need a quad shot iced americano."

"oh!" leehan lets out in surprise at both you cutting him off and your tone. "not-not your usual?" he asks.

you shake your head. "not today, sorry."

"no! it's okay!" leehan quickly changes the order on his side and grabs a new cup, giving a look to taesan who was already pouring the original drink for you. "uh. uhm."

you raise an eyebrow at the confusion growing visible on the barista's face, clearly not knowing how to do something. "is everything okay?" you ask.

"yep!" leehan nods quickly, clearing his throat as he writes your name on the cup. "you're all set!" he smiles.

you blink a few times, staring at him confused. "you haven't charged me yet."

"don't worry about it!" leehan's smile stays on his face. "my treat," he says before he can think.

a blush forms on your face realizing you just got your drink for free, shyly nodding your head and pushing some of your hair out of your face. "well, thank you..." your voice trails off.

"donghyun," he answers, his smile growing bigger.

"thank you, donghyun. i really appreciate it," you say, smiling back at him.

"it's not a problem," he shakes his head, his hair flowing with him. "really."

"yn?"

sending a gentle smile leehan's way, you walk over to the other side and take your drink from the black-haired male you always saw with leehan. looking at the cup, your smile grows bigger at the sight of your name. walking back up to the front, you hold the cup up in front of leehan.

"finally got my name right, hm?" you say, smiling still. you turn the cup a little bit more, failing to notice leehan's eyes widening in fear as you see numbers scribbled on it, making you confused. looking over the numbers, you realize it's a phone number. slowly lowering the cup, your smile grows bigger as you look at the male in front of you. "and more, huh?"

"uhm," leehan lets out awkwardly, shifting on his feet. "i was hoping i would be able to talk to you more," he admits, a shy smile on his face. "but i didn't really know how to go about it."

it all clicked in your brain then. "so you were writing my name wrong on purpose?" you question, but the smile remains on your face.

"yeah," he nods.

"do you have a paper and pen?" you ask, leaving leehan looking at you confused.

"here," taesan pops out of nowhere, handing you a pen and pad from his apron pocket, nudging leehan lightly before walking in the back.

scribbling your number down on the paper, you tear the page off and hand it over to the male who's staring at you in bewilderment. "here! in case the marker wipes off the cup or one of my friends tosses it," you tell him.

taking the paper from you, leehan looks it over and his face instantly turns red realizing it's your number. "oh! gotcha!" he nods, shoving it in his pocket.

your phone dings, and you pull it out of your pocket to glance at it before putting it back away. "well, i gotta get going. but, it was really nice talking to you a bit, donghyun," you say, grabbing your drink.

"yeah, you too," leehan smiles. "i'll text you after my shift!"

smiling back at him, you open the door and wave. "i'll be waiting!"

as you walk out the door, the bell dinging as you leave, there's a dumb, lovesick smile on leehan's face as he leans against the counter. he glances around, seeing no customers in the store before pumping his fist up in the air. "hell yes!" he exclaims.

"you're a fucking idiot," taesan rolls his eyes, walking back up front.

"be quiet!"

[maybcnksgf]

I love love love your writting. can you do an enemies to lovers Sirius Black one shot? idk like make it hella dramatic, like fighting in the rain n then they kiss, or like a truth or dare n they have to kiss or sum. again love u sm have a good day stay healthy

— amortentia ; sirius black x fem!hufflepuff!reader 𐙚

☆

summary: one thing about you is that you could not stand sirius black. one thing about sirius black is that he could not stand you.

warnings: swearing, drinking, james is an arse in this sorry :,(

a/n: hi my lovely, thank you so so much for the compliment & the request! i'm so flattered that u love my writing. i love YOU and i hope this did ur idea justice! <3 i also decided to make the reader a hufflepuff in this cause i thought it'd be a cute lil asset, hope u don't mind!

check out my masterlist & send in any requests <3

One thing about you is that you could not stand Sirius Black.

Everybody seemed to love him. Not just the students, but teachers too; even Professor McGonagall couldn't hide her smirk behind her hand when she often gave him a good scolding.

Really, the only one of the four marauders you could stand was Remus Lupin. Peter Pettigrew was okay, though he was far too much of a tag-a-long for your liking, and James Potter was practically Sirius' right hand man. Remus was your Potions partner and he was, admittedly, as much of a sweetheart as a marauder could get, often helping you study and walking you back to your common room when he caught you asleep in the library during his prefect rounds (which only happened once... or maybe twice).

"They're not so bad," he promised you one Potions class, watching for your reaction with a sheepish grin as Sirius and James messed with Snape's potion at the back of the room. "They're actually really nice once you, y'know, get to know them."

"Nice?" you questioned him, scoffing out a laugh and grimacing at the sound of Sirius' laughter bellowing through the classroom. "Need I remind you what Sirius did to me in third year?"

"I know, I know! But he's changed, Y/N, honestly! He's more... mature?"

Even Remus couldn't quite believe the words that had just left his mouth as you both watched the boy in question actually spit into Severus' cauldron. "Oh yeah, Rem, so mature."

One thing about Sirius Black is that he could not stand you.

He'd always believed what he did to you in your third year was harmless, something that would be forgotten within a month or two and not to be dwelled on. He knew you harboured a secret little crush on him at the time, so he figured... why not?

He really did mean it when he asked you out, though. Sure, he didn't know you too well; you were really just another Hufflepuff that he shared some classes with. But Remus seemed to like you, so he figured it could at least be a good way to make a new friend if nothing else.

"Hey."

You looked up from your book on Herbology at the rude interruption, and of all the people you were expecting to be standing before you, you were surprised at the sight of Sirius Black. You cleared your throat awkwardly, willing the immediate blush to disappear from your cheeks. "Hi?"

It came out as more of a question than you intended it to, but he grinned at you nonetheless and your face felt warm, was it warm in there?

You did a quick scan of the library in search of any of his smug little friends, but you saw no one. Just him.

He didn't wait for an invitation before pulling out the chair beside you and sitting down, still grinning ear to ear. "You free Saturday?"

You couldn't help but raise your eyebrows in surprise, your yellow tie suddenly feeling far too restrictive around your neck as you somehow managed to splutter out a "yes". Sirius pulled a bouquet of flowers out from behind his back (pink and white roses) and offered them to you with the same lopsided grin. "Meet me at the Three Broomsticks? Two o'clock?"

The only problem was... James had gotten into his head.

That same afternoon, Sirius entered his dorm with an air of confidence, not dissimilar to usual, but he had a different sort of spring in his step.

Remus and James were sat on their respective beds. The former looked up at him over his book and raised a single eyebrow, clearly noticing something different about his entrance, though James didn't look up from the Quidditch magazine he was reading and paid no mind.

"Afternoon, boys," he announced, his voice dripping with glee as he crashed down onto his bed.

"Afternoon, Pads," Remus responded, a curious tone to his voice as he kept his eyebrow raised. "What's gotten into you today?"

"Scored a date," he said, far too matter-of-factly for the grin he was still sporting. "With Y/N."

Remus' book fell shut on the ground with a thud, jaw dropped open and lost for words as James finally cocked an eyebrow. "Who's that?"

"Y/N L/N. Y'know, the Hufflepuff girl in our Potions class?"

"And Herbology, and Charms," Remus finally composed himself, now staring at Sirius with a pointed look, well aware of his friend's... reputation. "Look, Pads. I know she likes you, but you have to be careful about this. Y/N is my friend, and I don't want to see you hurt her."

James suddenly barked out a laugh, finally dropping his magazine as he engaged in the conversation. "Be careful? There's nothing to be careful about, Moony. As if Sirius is actually going to go on a date with a Hufflepuff. Don't embarrass yourself like that, Padfoot."

"Don't be such a dick, Prongs," Remus spat, tossing a cushion at his mate and hitting him square in the head. "She's my friend."

Sirius said nothing.

So the next Saturday rolled around and you arrived at the Three Broomsticks at five minutes to two. Though, five minutes to two became two o'clock, which became two thirty, which became three, which soon became four.

And Sirius never showed.

The next day at breakfast, you'd found him, slapped him across the face, threw the bouquet of pink and white roses back at him and left without a word.

Sirius Black did not like to be publicly humiliated. He decided there and then that he wanted nothing else to do with you.

It wasn't until your sixth year rolled around that Remus realised things were changing.

Gryffindor had just won their first match of the season against Slytherin and, as usual, there was a huge party in their common room.

You weren't much of a partier, usually preferring to stay in the comfort of your dorm with a book that you and Remus were bound to discuss within the next few days. Of course, you'd attend the parties when Hufflepuff won, but you were never one to join in with the other houses.

Although he knew this, Remus Lupin had a plan.

He was beginning to grow sick of the constant complaining on both sides of his friends. It was always "Come on, Moony, she's so bloody weird" or "Look at him, Remus, how on earth can you stand to be friends with him?" and, quite frankly, he'd had enough.

He loved the marauders, of course; they were his best friends, his brothers. But he also loved you, and though he knew that Sirius' young and dumb actions in third year hurt you, he really wasn't lying when he said he'd changed.

Yes, Sirius would call you weird or strange or annoying to his friends, but Remus knew he was deflecting. He saw the way something in his eyes changed when he watched you enter Platform 9 3/4 on the first day of your fifth year. He saw the way he'd been secretly pining over you for the last year.

Likewise, he knew the same went for you too. No matter how badly he hurt you, your feelings for Sirius never really left. He saw the way your gaze lingered on his friend for just a little bit too long. He knew the way you shook your head and muttered "what a dick" under your breath every time you looked away was a cover up.

The party in the Gryffindor common room was in full swing by the time Remus convinced you to join him. It had taken a lot of begging and a fair few promises to buy you more books before you agreed, and you found yourself awkwardly at Remus' side as you entered through the portrait hole.

It wasn't long until James had found his friend and immediately tugged him away. Remus tried to fight it but found him impossible, shooting you an apologetic smile before you lost sight of him. You made a mental note to demand another promise of more books when you found him again.

You accepted defeat and made your way over to the drinks table, in need of at least something before you inevitably called it a night early and headed back to the comfort of your own common room.

Smoothing the fabric of your dress down, you suddenly felt very out of place in the yellow and white floral fabric, but an unfortunately familiar voice snapped you out of your thoughts before you got too caught up in them.

"L/N?"

You immediately snapped your head up and fought the urge to roll your eyes at the source of the voice. "Black."

Sirius seemed surprised at your presence, his eyebrows raised and an interesting sort of smirk gracing his features as he looked down at you. "And what exactly are you doing here?"

"Remus invited me," you kept your answers short, trying to slow your rapidly beating heart as you reached for the firewhiskey and flashed him a sarcastic smile. "Is that a crime?"

"No." His smirk only grew, seemingly amused at your snap back as he kept his eyes on you. "Not a crime at all, love."

He knew what he was doing. How dare he try and flirt with you now after what he did before.

"Don't call me that," your response came immediately and you felt yourself trying to fight the shiver that was so desperate to creep down your spine. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a party to enjoy and somebody to stay far away from."

That was an hour ago now, and since then you had already downed way too many cups of firewhiskey for your body to handle. You were so set on trying to avoid Sirius that you tried to make yourself forget he was even there at all.

An hour became two and Sirius ended up finding you back at the drinks table again, barely even holding yourself up as you tried to pour yourself a cup of whatever alcohol was nearest to you. Sirius, though definitely not sober, was painfully so compared to you, and he watched in slight amusement as you managed to get more of the liquid on your dress than in the cup.

"You alright over there?" His voice snapped you out of your pitiful concentration and in turn made you jump, even more of the liquid spilling down you when you did.

"Hello, Sirius," you responded, turning to look at him with a big smile and almost stumbling into his chest, causing him to wrap his arms around you as he caught you.

In your clouded state of mind, you couldn't for the life of you remember that you're supposed to hate this guy, and instead only found memories of the longing gazes when you racked your mind. You'd regret this tomorrow; you most certainly could not handle your drink.

"Hello, Y/N," Sirius raised his eyebrows at your state as he answered you, still amused as he copied your tone of voice. "You look like you've had enough."

You gasped as if he had just suggested you were You-Know-Who himself. "I have not!"

Despite your best efforts, your words came out slurred and Sirius knew Remus would not be happy that you're left out here alone in this state. He cast a quick glance around the common room but couldn't find a single glimpse of his mate in the crowd, and he let out a quiet curse under his breath.

I'm supposed to hate her, he thought to himself, letting his eyes fall back on your smiling face. She embarrassed you Sirius, shoved a bouquet of bloody roses at you in front of the entire Great Hall to see. But why did she have to grow up and be so bloody pretty?

"Let's get you back to your common room, yeah?" He suggested, gently taking the cup from you and placing it back down on the table.

He admittedly felt bad for you. Remus was nowhere to be found and he couldn't just let you get all the way back to the Hufflepuff common room by yourself in this state. You're just being a decent guy, Sirius, he told himself again. You'd do this for anyone.

You either didn't seem to hear him or his words didn't register in your brain, because when he placed a hand on the small of your back to carefully lead you through the crowd and back through the portrait hole, you only spoke with a grin.

"Are we going on a walk?"

"Yeah, love. We're going on a walk." Sirius couldn't help but chuckle at your reaction, but deep down he felt a little tense. With the state you were in, anyone could've taken advantage of you, and he was glad he found you before anyone else did. Maybe it was the little bit of firewhiskey still running through his veins, but Merlin, Black, the fuck is wrong with you tonight?

The walk back to the Hufflepuff common room was slow and quiet, and Sirius ended up wrapping an arm around your shoulders and taking most of your weight against him to stop your constant stumbling.

Once you'd reached the portrait, you muttered the password and allowed Sirius to half-carry you through, still not completely aware of what was going on, and the pair of you only stopped when you reached the bottom of the stairs leading to the girls' dormitories.

He'd never been in this part of the castle before, and he couldn't stop the small smile that graced his lips when he noticed it smelt like a lovely mixture of flowers and freshly baked cookies.

You turned to face him once you reached the stairs and something suddenly clicked in your drunken mind.

"Sirius? Is that you?!"

He chuckled quietly again and nodded his head, raising his eyebrows with an amusement smile. "Yeah, it's me. You're back in your common room now, yeah?"

You took a moment to process his words through the thick fog clouding your brain and nodded your head, still smiling too before looking down at your dress. Your smile fell into a sad frown. "Oh no, it's ruined! It was so pretty!"

The boy in front of you took notice at the alcohol stains on your dress and shrugged his shoulders. "It's still pretty. I mean, you look pretty. I mean-"

If you did notice him stumbling over his words and the blush that rose to his warm cheeks, you didn't show it (though Sirius doubted very much that you did notice in your state). You simply smiled again, turning away from Sirius without another word as you all but skipped up the stairs.

It wasn't until he neared the portrait hall to leave again that he heard your quiet little drunken giggle. "Sirius Black thinks I'm pretty."

That was months ago now and you and Sirius hadn't even uttered a word to each other about that night.

Actually, if it was possible, you started avoiding each other more.

You were finally starting to admit to yourself that you had feelings for Sirius Black, but that scared you. How could you fall for him again after he stood you up in your third year? He left you there for two hours, your single butterbeer looking pathetic in front of you as Madame Rosmerta shot you sympathetic smiles from behind the counter every now and again.

You hadn't been in there since.

Little did you know, Sirius was avoiding you for exactly the same reason.

Okay, perhaps he was a little embarrassed to admit that he liked you. James was a dick that day three years ago and, although Sirius knew the both of them had matured since then, he couldn't help but worry his best friend just wouldn't approve. He knew deep down that James, especially now older, would just want him to be happy, but he was scared.

Remus had been so angry with him when he stood you up that he was also scared to face him again. Would he even believe him or force him to stay away from you for your own wellbeing?

The rain was pelting down heavily in early February as you trudged into Professor Slughorn's Potions class. The castle at this time of year was sickening, with pink and red paper hearts hovering over your heads in the hallways and fluttering around the tables in the Great Hall as Valentine's Day drew closer.

Even your professors had taken on the Valentine's theme, and you couldn't help but groan as you gathered around Slughorn's desk with the other Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors.

"Amortentia," the professor announced, and a group of Gryffindors standing behind you giggled to themselves. "The most powerful love potion in the world. If brewed correctly, the scent will be different to everyone according to what attracts them."

James Potter scoffed on the other side of the crowd and whispered something in Sirius' ear. The latter laughed loudly, pulling the attention of everyone in the room.

"Mr Black?" Slughorn spoke through the boy's laughter, keeping his calm demeanour. "Perhaps, since you find this so amusing, you'd like to demonstrate for us?"

"Don't mind if I do, sir," Sirius just laughed again and made his way through the group, going to stand by the professor with a cocky smirk. "I bet it's just a load of old bollocks anyway."

"Well, I suppose we'll find out, Mr Black. Tell us what you smell, won't you?"

You watched as Sirius leant over the cauldron and you took a moment to take in his appearance. His shirt was untucked and unbuttoned a quarter of the way, his red and gold tie hanging loosely around his neck, and though you willed it not to, your heart couldn't help but flutter slightly.

At that moment, you realised that, if Slughorn was right, Sirius was about to reveal the scent of the one he loved.

"Smells like..." his voice pulled you from your thoughts as he took in the scent of the potion, "vanilla, fresh cookies, and..."

He trailed off, and his eyes suddenly flicked up to meet yours, an unreadable expression on his face as he muttered quietly.

"And, uh, roses."

Whether it was the intensity of Sirius' gaze or the fact that everybody had turn round to look at you that made you storm out of the Potions classroom, you couldn't be sure.

Not even the heaviness of the rain could stop you as you tried to get as far away from the castle as possible. What the fuck just happened?

"Y/N?"

You shook your head, refusing to turn around as you continued walking. "Leave me alone, Sirius."

"Y/N, please-"

"I don't want to talk to you right now."

"Merlin's beard, L/N, would you stop and listen to me for one bloody second!"

He'd caught up to you now, throwing himself in front of you to stop you on your course. You'd almost crashed into his chest, and Sirius suddenly remembered how you'd done the same thing at that party four months ago.

"Sirius, please-" you begged quietly, trying to push past him.

You didn't get very far as he gently grabbed your elbow and brought you back in front of him. "No, Y/N, we're going to talk. For the first time, we're going to bloody talk."

"About what, Black? What could you possibly want to talk to me about? You haven't wanted to talk to me for the last three years, why start now?!"

He couldn't help it as his voice raised slightly, and you watched him grab at his dripping wet hair in frustration. "I just openly admitted my feelings for you in front of the entire fuckin' class and you won't even talk to me!"

"Because it's bullshit, Sirius!"

Sirius stopped at this, his eyebrows furrowing as he shook his head slightly. "What the bloody hell do you mean?"

"This is just another one of your plans to humiliate me, just like you did three years ago. I'm not falling for it this time."

Successfully this time, you pushed past him, shoulders brushing together as you did. He tried to grab your wrist to pull you back but you shook it out of his grip and continued walking away from him again.

"Y/N-"

"No."

"Y/N, come on-"

"I said no, Sirius."

"Y/N, I fucking love you!"

His words halted you in place. Neither of you spoke for a moment, and the only sounds you could hear was the violent pattering of the rain and his heavy breathing.

You shook your head slowly, not even turning around to face him. "You can't. You can't do this shit to me, Sirius."

"Why not? It's true!"

His words dripped with exasperation. He seemed desperate now, his body moving back in front of you again and Godric, were those just raindrops on your face or had you been crying too?

"Sirius, I can't- I can't let myself be hurt by you again," your voice cracked slightly as you refused to look at him, feeling your throat clog pathetically. "I liked you. I really bloody liked you and when you stood me up I was so humiliated."

Something in his face softened at your words, and his voice grew quieter. "Y/N, I didn't know-"

"I haven't been on a single date since, Sirius. I can't let anyone even attempt to get close to me like that because every time they do I think they're just gonna stand me up anyway, because that's what Sirius Black did. Do you have any idea how much it hurts to fall in love with you when-"

But suddenly all words were forgotten as his lips were on yours.

Sirius' hands were now on your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. He tasted faintly of cigarettes and some chocolate that was no doubt stolen from Remus, and it took a moment to process what was happening. But you kissed him back.

Godric, did you kiss him back.

It was a few moments later when you pulled away, his forehead finding place against yours. Neither of you spoke for a moment and your eyes took their time to flutter open, only to find him already looking at you.

"You love me, you said it yourself. Give me a chance," his voice came as a whisper, his breath fanning against your mouth as his eyes searched your features desperately.

You nodded your head breathlessly, your hands sliding up around his shoulders as you gave him a pathetically pointed look. "You pull that third year shit ever again and you're dead."

"I swear. Merlin, I swear."

You laughed quietly and Sirius broke out into a wide smile. The silence that took over you both was comfortable, the rain providing a settling background noise despite the cold that chilled your bones

"For the record, I would have smelled you too."

[dreamauri]

♪ — 𝗪𝗛𝗘𝗥𝗘 𝗧𝗢, 𝗕𝗘𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘𝗗 sebastian vetteln x fem! reader ( fluff ) fic summary . . . In which a bus stop acts as a way-point for two idiots who are madly in love.

( master list | more of sebastian vettel ) ( requests )

put my blood and sweat into this, took me so long to write, enjoy

tagging my #1 sebastian fan @forza55

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

2006

rain was always so calming. A constant in your life. The raindrops would follow one another and make a pitter patter noise as they landed on the earth, weather on the ground, leaves, or in water again.

You could hear it loud and clear despite your headphones and icecap covering your ears. You weren't listening to music, but rather had the music instrument to divert anyone from talking to you. The bus stop was not too crowded, and the same people every Wednesday huddled under the stop's shelter like fish in a bucket.

Your face, of course, was buried in your book. What else would you be doing? Flipping the page as you glanced at your watch. 2 more minutes, you sighed.

"Excuse me." You snapped your head up, looking at the drenched blond that stepped under the ran protective roof. "Did bus, 38 leave yet?" He was panting, one hand on his knee as he looked up at you. You?

You were taken aback by his eyes, looking around to see if he he was taking to anyone else, but no, his blue eyes were on you. "I um -" You took a headphone off to be polite. "No, it should be, oh yeah, turn around." Just in time, you bit the inside of your lip as the blond gave you a thankful smile.

The people from the bus top filed in, taking a seat and resuming their activities. You decided to stand. Someone else could need your seat more than you do. And apparently, someone also thought the same thing, but he wasn't used to the bus's immediate halts.

Standing a few feet behind you was a bad idea because with the wet floor and sudden red traffic light, you found yourself catching Sebastian Vettel from slipping down on the floor and taking him with you.

Those blue eyes were too big for his head, scratch that. They were perfect. The amount of time the two of you spent with your arm hooked around his waist and him holding onto the handle above to catch his balance, was enough for you sketch the beauty he was in your head.

"Sorry." "It's okay." You dismissed, with a polite smile, helping him stand up straight. "Maybe you should sit down." "Eh, someone else might need it more than me." He said hesitantly, shrugging. The smile on your face widened, and features softened. His did too, seeing the elegant moon in your eyes shine on him with what he could describe as a gentle goddess giving a flower to a loyal worshipper.

"I'm Sebastian." "Y/N."

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

2007

No one ever sits on the chair beside you. When the seats were vacant and you sat down, it'd be just you. But today, a familiar face returned. After only appearing for two weeks, you finally get to see the blue eyes and fluff after a year.

"Whatcha reading?" He asks, looking down at your book. A smile shined on your face as you closed the pages to show him the title. "Just light reading." You hummed quietly, glancing up as the bus arrived.

You stood together on the bus, catching up on recent events. Which included him getting a "promotion" at his job. You kind of got into that topic more, you learned that his job took him to travel the world, and that included being here in Canada for a week every year, Thursday to Sunday.

Only, today was Monday. And last year when he visited he stayed for three Thursdays: three weeks, triple the time he should. You didn't ask about that, maybe it was just personal, or he had family here. You didn't ask what his job was either since he didn't disclose it on his own. You sure it was just a big fancy company that was related to computers and cyber tech since they were big things at this time.

When you got off with Seb at your stop, the both of you decided to stop at a café before plopping down on the couch in a corner in the grand library. Your hands were too busy holding the warm paper cup you didn't realize that Sebastian was leading the way. His hand on the small off your back, pulling you from your shirt to stop you at a cross walk ( red goers dead goers ) or walking on the outside of the street so it was safter for you to sip on your hot chocolate in peace.

The noon was spent peacefully, sitting beside each other, noses in books. Sebastian had such a calming presence, you even laid your head on his shoulder and watched him go through books about motors and cars ( which you found terribly cute ).

The week continued like usual, with seb having to leave early from Thursday to Saturday. On Monday he stayed long enough to take you out to lunch. The two of you sat at a nice dinner overlooking St. Lawrence river, and later you had a nice walk along the water body, linking arms together.

You spent the rest of the day with him, all the way back to the bus stop long after the sun had set. "Are you staying far from here?" You asked, brushing some hair from his eyes gently. He shrugged looking out at the illuminated streets. "I'm German, a walk is a walk." You couldn't help but chuckle as he pointed at his inflated chest proudly.

"I'll . . . see you tomorrow morning?" He asked hesitantly as he started walking away backwards slowly, looking at you. You nodded, a wide sile on your face as you walked in the opposite direction, backwards as well. "Get hoe safe." "You too."

But for whatever reason. He wasn't there in the morning. He usually makes it just two minutes before the bus. But today, you had to ride all alone. You had to sit all alone in the library too, and buy hot chocolate on your own too. Wednesday was like that as well, and Thursday as follows. And on Sunday, as you sat at the cafe, blowing hot air in your palms to warm yourself up when your ear caught a familiar name on the television.

"And eighth on his debut, the nineteen year old Sebastian Vettel standing in for the injured Robert Kubica scores one point for BMW."

Your Sebastian Vettel just scared a point in the pinnacle of motorsport?

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

2008

Your smile is wide as you watch the blond arrive. You scootch over in your seat since the other one was taken and immediately Seb takes a seat beside you. "Mr. Vettel, would you be so kind to sign my shirt?" You joke, and when he looks as the top you're wearing he almost burst into laughter, putting his face in his hands.

"There's this store that sells merch, I thought it looked good." You shrug, nudging him. "Oh my god." He wipes his eyes looking at it. "Who's that?" He points to the shirt you were wearing, new Torro rosso merch with the new driver. "You don't know Sebastian Vettel?" You gasp, putting your hand on your chest in fake and dramatic offence. "He's the next World Champion." "Really?" "Oh yea, for sure. Maybe not this year or the next. But he'll do great one day."

"I was hoping to know, do you think Sebastian would be able to invite this friend of his to the race on Sunday." "I don't know, I'll have to check. I'm sure he'll be intent on bringing her to all of the races if she says yes." "She says yes."

university can wait.

It can wait till after Seb's first home grand prix, hugging him tightly after the race. Till after you go out with him that after party to dance all night. It can wait till the two of you cakesmash each other the next morning then laugh your asses off as you struggle to clean up.

university can defiantly wait till after a trip to Italy. Sitting at a very expensive restaurant and eating pasta despite dietary restrictions. It can wait sightseeing and museums. And most defiantly wait till after Sebastian's first win. After he kisses you post celebration and post podium, sharing the bottle of champagne

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

2009

"That was beautiful, amour." [love] you smiled as Sebastian finally reached you. This year round, both of you were wearing red bull branded clothes, while seb wore the race suit, you wore the kit.

"I'm pretty sure you should look in a mirror because you're much more beautiful." The German joked, sharing a quick kiss with you. Christian could see the look of pride and admiration on your face as Sebastian hopped on the top pedestal for the Chinese grand prix. And of curse, as anyone in your places would, you blew kisses to each other.

"Its a pretty trophy." You hummed once you got a hold of it after the podium ceremony. The garage was still hype from the win, and you couldn't deny that your heart was hammering in your chest still. "It is." Adrian newey, your boss nodded looking between you and sebastian who was chasing his mechanics with the bottle of champagne.

"This is going to be a nice year. A very nice year." You hummed to yourself, feeling yourself smile watching your lover laugh. He looked at you with his eyebrows raised. And before you knew it, he was chasing you up and down the pitlane. Safe to say the skirt you were wearing was not helping you and you were eventually sticky and sweet.

"Let me taste." Seb held your waste, leaning in for a kiss. You managed to pull away, blushing and pushing on his chest playfully. "The whole world will see us." You scolded, folding your arms shyly. You were, after all, in the pitlane, any fan or journalist or camera could see and forever etch the moment into the internet.

"Let them see, let the world know that you're mine and I'm yours."

"You cheeky bastard."

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

2010

"Shhhh." "Let me seeee!" "Shhhh!" You shushed him even harder, pushing him away from his face. "I'm working." You scolded, slightly smacking his chest.

Pre season was almost here, and you were finishing up the design to the RB6. Moving from Montreal to London for the job was a big change. Although you weren't able to graduate university with your planned engineering degree, you were talented and gifted enough to score a designer position with Red bull racing.

Adrian Newey supervised over you and saw you as a skilled individual. You were able to preform well, abiding within the rules of F1 to create extraordinary work. Well, you work fine when Sebastian is not at your neck trying to look at the blueprints for the RB6.

"Oh come on, Let me see what you're going to be putting me in. I'm going to drive it anyways." You shook you head to yourself. As soon as you stopped holding Seb away from his chest, he had immediately put his nose in all your work and notes asking questions and making pointers even though the man never learned anything in university about any of this.

"Make it super fast." He tells you. You couldn't help but chuckle at his antics. "I don't make the car fast. The driver does." You joke getting up. "besides, I can already tell, we've bagged this season." You breath out happily kissing his cheek as you pass him to go to the kitchen.

"I like the way you think." He smirked following you, leaning his forearms on the kitchen counter, watching you as you skimmed through the fridge for something. "You hungry? We can go out." He offered, pushing himself up and coming up from behind you, hugging your waist and searching with his eyes through the content of the fridge same way you did.

"I don't know . . . I'm craving gâteau, tiramisu maybe? I don't know. Sugar, something sweet." [cake] You sighed in thought. "Do you wat something sweet?" you looked back at him only to see his cute smile and his blue gorgeous eyes on you.

"I have my infinite share of sweetness." You raised a brow confused at his words, only to be answered by his lips pressing on yours. "Why would I want anything cake or gâteau," he mocked, "when I have you?" "verry funny, seb." you chuckled, playfully rolling your eyes only to be met with another kiss.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You were stressed, very stressed. after the car had preformed well and met your expectations during testing, it did not deliver well enough not in the first race with Alonso had won nor the second race in which Sebastian had to retire. mark in the other seat wasn't doing any better with 8th and 9th, which were yes in the points, but not in the championship.

Sebastian had taken pole during both weekends, the first race in Bahrain where his car lost power in the last few laps and the second race in Australia where the brakes failed due to mechanical issues. And it all felt like it was your fault. Like you didn't put enough effort in the car at the beginning in the season, like you costed a beloved new family and team money and a championship.

The stress and nerves wouldn't leave you, sitting on the pit wall as you watched the lights turn red one by one. Webber is on pole this time with seb in the second row with p3. chewing your pencil, you counted down till the lights went out, eyes on the screens in front of you displaying important specs that would help you with possible outcomes and opportunities for strategies.

Your heart almost jumped out of your chest as the drivers pressed on the throttle for the Malaysian grand prix. with your note book in hand and pen between your fingers, you began scribbling and planning and thinking.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Your heart hammers in your chest as Sebastian crosses the finish line first. You hardly register the cheers around you as you push through the crowd, your feet carrying you to parc fermé on pure instinct. There he is—Sebastian, climbing out of his car, arms raised in triumph, the kind of smile that could light up the entire paddock plastered across his face.

“Seb!” you call out, your voice cracking with emotion. His head whips around, and the moment his eyes land on you, he opens his arms without hesitation.

You throw yourself into him, gripping him so tightly you're not sure where he ends and you begin. The smell of sweat and champagne clings to him, but you don’t care. All that matters is the way he holds you back, his joy infectious.

“You did it,” you whisper, your voice shaky. “You actually did it.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” he replies, his words soft but weighty, his voice muffled against your hair. And for a fleeting moment, it feels like the world belongs to the two of you.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The words echo in your ears, muffled yet unmistakable: “Du bist Weltmeister!” It feels surreal, like you’ve stepped into a dream. The grand prix is over, and yet your heart races faster than it ever did during the race.

Sebastian’s disbelief mirrors your own as he clambers out of his car, shaking his head in wonder before he sees you. You barely have time to brace yourself before he’s pulling you into another bone-crushing hug, his breath coming out in a stuttering laugh against your shoulder.

“We did it!” he exclaims, his voice thick with emotion.

“No,” you correct him, though your voice cracks from the tears threatening to spill. “You did it, Seb. You’re the world champion.”

Later, on the podium, Sebastian lifts the constructor’s trophy beside you, his smile splitting his face as the crowd roars. When the champagne sprays, you barely have time to duck before he turns the bottle on you, his laughter blending with yours in the chaos. It’s a moment frozen in time, one you’ll replay over and over in your mind.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

2011

Moving into the Milton Keynes apartment had been his idea. Despite his Monaco residence, Sebastian had insisted that being close to you—and the team—mattered more. The apartment wasn’t much, but it became home.

You’d cook dinner together, sometimes burning the pasta because you were too busy teasing each other. When you weren’t at the factory or the track, you were exploring cities together, summer and winter breaks filled with spontaneous vacations. Hiking in the Alps, sipping espresso on cobbled streets in Rome, or lying on the beaches of Ibiza—it was always the two of you against the world.

It was simple. It was perfect. Until it wasn’t.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

2014

The tension had been building for weeks. Every race felt like a battlefield, but not just for Sebastian on the track—it had seeped into the small apartment you shared, turning it into a minefield neither of you seemed able to navigate. The car wasn’t competitive, the championship slipping further out of reach with every race weekend. It gnawed at him, at both of you, but Sebastian wasn’t used to losing.

That night, it all came to a head.

“I’m giving everything I have!” he snapped, pacing across the narrow living room, his hands tugging at his hair. His voice was sharp, louder than you’d ever heard it before, echoing against the walls. “Do you think I want to be stuck fighting for fifth?”

You flinched, his frustration rolling off him in waves, but you stood your ground. Crossing your arms, you swallowed the lump forming in your throat. “I never said that, Seb. But you’re shutting me out! How am I supposed to help you if you won’t even let me in?”

He stopped mid-stride, turning to face you with a look that made your stomach twist. His lips parted, and for a moment, you thought he might say something to ease the blow, to let you in the way you were begging him to. But then, the words came out like a slap:

“Maybe you can’t help!”

The air in the room went heavy, suffocating. Your breath hitched as the weight of his words settled in your chest, sharp and cutting. You stared at him, waiting for him to take it back, to soften the edges of what he’d just said. But he didn’t. He just stood there, his chest rising and falling, his eyes darting away from yours.

“Okay,” you said finally, your voice quiet, strained. It was all you could manage.

Sebastian exhaled sharply, dragging his hand down his face, but he didn’t say anything. No apology, no explanation. And somehow, that was worse.

The rest of the night passed in silence. He retreated to the bedroom, the door clicking shut behind him, while you sat alone in the dimly lit living room, staring blankly at the coffee table. The tension was still there, like an invisible wall between you, and you knew—knew—that this wasn’t just about the car. It was about everything.

By mid-season, you couldn’t take it anymore. The team’s focus was shifting, Sebastian’s frustration was mounting, and your own heartbreak was becoming unbearable. You handed in your resignation at Red Bull with trembling hands, the words barely audible as you told Christian you were leaving.

Porsche’s hypercar program was a lifeline. It wasn’t just about stepping away from the team—it was about stepping away from Sebastian, from the version of him you didn’t recognize anymore. You threw yourself into your work, finishing your master’s degree with a kind of single-minded determination that bordered on obsession. A PhD followed, and so did your work alongside Mark Webber.

But even as the years passed, the sting of that night, of those words—Maybe you can’t help!—never truly faded. They echoed in your mind at the most unexpected times, in the quiet moments when you let your guard down. You told yourself you’d moved on, but deep down, you knew part of you was still in that small apartment in Milton Keynes, staring at the man you once thought you’d never lose.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

2024

The Porsche garage hummed with activity—mechanics adjusting tools, engineers poring over screens, the air filled with the familiar scents of fuel and rubber. It was a controlled chaos you thrived in, but when Sebastian walked in, the rhythm faltered, like someone had pressed pause on the world.

You looked up, drawn by an instinct you couldn’t explain. He stood just inside the doorway, his gaze scanning the room until it landed on you.

Time seemed to collapse, the years between you vanishing in an instant. He looked... different. His features had sharpened with age, a faint streak of silver glinting in his hair, but his eyes—those striking, unyielding eyes—remained the same.

For a moment, neither of you moved. The noise of the garage dulled to a murmur, replaced by the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears.

Finally, you smiled, forcing yourself to break the spell. “Good seeing you again, Seb.”

Your voice was steady, but your extended hand trembled slightly. He stepped forward, taking it in his. His grip was firm, grounding, and the touch lingered longer than it should have.

“Yn,” he said, your name a quiet acknowledgment, a memory resurrected.

The handshake ended, and with it, the fragile bubble of familiarity. You withdrew, your professionalism snapping into place like armor, but the warmth of his palm against yours stayed, a phantom sensation.

Later, you stood at the pit wall, your headset snug over your ears as you stared at the monitors in front of you. Rows of data scrolled across the screens—lap times, tire degradation, telemetry—all of it meant to hold your focus. But no amount of numbers could drown out the echo of Sebastian’s voice when he’d said your name.

Out on the track, the Porsche glided through the apex of a turn, sleek and powerful under Sebastian’s control. His voice crackled through your headset, cutting through your scattered thoughts. “Car feels good.”

It was measured, professional, but you caught it—that faint hesitation, the undertone of something unresolved.

“Copy that,” you replied, gripping the edge of the console until your knuckles whitened. Your voice was clipped, businesslike, but it felt like a mask too thin to hold. “Let’s push for one more flying lap.”

Sebastian’s car roared down the straight, his hands tightening around the wheel. He leaned into the motion of the car, each turn precise, his instincts still razor-sharp. But beneath the surface, his mind was a storm. Every shift of the gears felt weighted, every flick of the wheel a reminder of how much had changed—and how much had stayed the same.

Inside the garage, the silence between radio updates was deafening. You clenched your jaw, willing yourself to focus on the present. But every beep of the telemetry felt like a heartbeat, syncing with the one pounding in your chest.

When Sebastian finally returned to the pit lane, you stepped back, giving him space as he climbed out of the car. For a moment, his eyes found yours again, a flash of something unspoken passing between you.

The handshake earlier had been a bridge—a brief moment of connection—but now, standing apart, the gap between you felt impossibly vast. Neither of you moved to close it.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The bus stop was dimly lit, the flickering streetlamp above casting fleeting shadows on the damp pavement. A cold breeze tugged at your coat, sneaking past the fabric to nip at your skin. You tucked your hands deeper into your pockets, rocking on your heels to stay warm.

The sound of an engine broke through the quiet, low and familiar. Headlights curved around the corner, slowing as they approached. You turned, squinting into the glow, and recognition struck before the car even stopped.

Sebastian’s car.

He rolled down the window, leaning over with an easy grace that looked so natural, like no time had passed. His gaze found yours, soft and warm, but carrying something you couldn’t quite place.

“Need a lift?” he asked, voice steady but tinged with something almost hesitant.

A smirk tugged at your lips as you stepped closer, the teasing retort slipping out effortlessly. “Are you my 39 North today?”

His chuckle was low, the kind that felt like the rumble of a car engine in your chest. “Only because you’re my favorite passenger.”

Without hesitation, you opened the door and slid into the passenger seat, the faint scent of leather and something distinctly Sebastian enveloping you. As you buckled up, you glanced at him, taking in the way his fingers rested on the steering wheel, tapping lightly in an unconscious rhythm.

“Still driving like you’re on the autobahn?” you teased, adjusting the seatbelt.

He cast a sidelong glance at you, a small smile playing at his lips. “I could say the same about you. You were always terrible at staying in the slow lane.”

You laughed, the sound breaking through the quiet tension that had settled between you both. As the car pulled away, the city lights painted streaks across the windshield, and for the first time in years, the silence felt comfortable. 

Like maybe, just maybe.

[glossdebut]

take a bite | MYG ★ 3

✧ PAIRING: yoongi x fem!reader

✧ SUMMARY: Your fledgling career as a music journalist is finally going in some kind of direction that must be on the path to success. Your coworkers like you enough to invite you out on Fridays, your boss is starting to think you’re competent enough to let you score a few bylines, and you're finally getting the hang of InDesign. All of your hard work, late nights, and complete lack of a social life are starting to pay off... Even if it all came at the expense of the longest relationship of your life. Fine. You've accepted the fact that romance isn't for you, under any circumstances. You won't risk your career for anybody. Not even Min Yoongi.

✧ TAGS: slow burn, eventual smut, eventual romance, producer yoongi, music journalist reader, neighbors to friends to lovers? you'll see, reader is bad at feelings, reader is post-break up

✧ WARNINGS: yoongi being RICH. also... remember that eventual smut? well it's kind of here! if you wanna skip, stop reading at [Maybe you should fix that.] and then continue at [After another moment, you roll over onto your stomach...]

✧ WORDCOUNT: 3.5k

✧ STATUS: complete

✧ AUTHOR'S NOTE: hi i normally post on wednesdays but we're about to get a HURRICANE where i'm at so i'm posting early lmfao. rating goes up in this chapter whoops! not sure when chapter 4 will be posted but i'll keep you guys updated. thank you all so much for the engagement i've been receiving on this fic!!! it's my first one ever and i never expected to get so many readers so quickly <3 you guys are keeping me writing so please feel free to send me feedback if you like this chapter. i'd love to read it if i have power over the next few days LOL

CH. 3: I Wanna Fold Clothes For You

So, you and Yoongi are friends.

Of course, seeing him three times within twenty four hours was a fluke, and over the next six days you don’t see him once, not even in passing in your shared hallway. You’re not privy to his work hours, but you know based on what little he’s told you that working as a producer demands more than the normal nine to five, as does your job.

Still, there’s something about coming home every night and knowing that you have a friend right down the hall, if you need one. You haven’t had that in a long time, and you feel so much lighter now that you do have it. 

There is, of course, an upside to not being able to see Yoongi often. Given that you’ve only just met him, you don’t have his appearance committed to memory quite yet, and mercifully, you’re beginning to forget why you were so viscerally attracted to him in the first place. 

You reason that it must’ve been the alcohol. You were getting drunk when you met him, stupidly drunk when you discovered that you’re neighbors, hungover when you shared a tangerine, and drinking from a bottomless glass of wine (courtesy of Seokjin) when you drooled over his hands for a solid ten minutes. You have yet to interact with Yoongi clear-headed and lucid. Not to mention you’re just a little bit… pent up, recently. Drunk and horny Y/N had the wheel. That has to be it. Nobody is that hot. You’re sure of that. Men ain’t special!

So you go through your week business as usual, but with a slight spring in your step, and it’s lovely. You even venture way further away from the office for your lunch hour on Friday than you normally would to go to a restaurant you’ve been dying to try. You’re usually so tied to the office that the furthest you tend to go is the convenience store down the street for the instant stuff.

And then, since the universe demands correction (or overcorrection where you’re concerned), all of the floaty goodness comes to a screeching halt when you get in your car to head back to the office. Your car which, in the past hour you’ve been blissfully stuffing your face with tteokbokki, has decided it has done its job and is ready to retire.

It just straight up won’t start.

Sitting in the parking lot of the restaurant, you go into crisis management mode.

You’re thankfully not completely clueless where cars are concerned. It comes with the territory of owning a beater. You keep up with your oil changes, you don’t leave the lights on when you get home late. You replaced your battery semi-recently, so that shouldn’t be it. Unfortunately, you don’t have much time to troubleshoot. You need to get back to work. Okay… Damage control, then.

The most obvious solution is to call one of your coworkers to come and rescue you, but your coworkers are just as notorious for being tethered within a one mile radius of the office as you are, so that would more than likely end up being a waste of time. You could find the nearest bus stop, but who knows how long public transportation could take right now? Too unpredictable. You could call your boss and tell him that you’re not going to be back to the office anytime soon (or at all today) and get your car towed and repaired. But then you would suddenly have a reputation of being unreliable, because god forbid you have a human moment. That’s straight up not an option. You’ve been doing so good this week.

You’re sure there are other options. But isn’t this what friends are for?

He answers on the fifth ring, but he answers.

“Y/N?” 

“Yoongi.” You feel your shoulders slump in relief. You try your best not to sound as panicked as you feel. “Are you busy?”

“Um. I’m at the studio,” he says, confusion in his voice. “But I have a minute. Is everything okay?” Confusion and concern? That’s nice.

“Everything’s fine!” you blurt out. “Okay, maybe not. My car won’t start! I don’t know why, but it won’t, and I need to get back to work, but you’re at work, too! I don’t even know where you work, but I doubt it’s anywhere near where I am, and even if it is, I don’t want to tear you away from anything important—”

“Y/N.”

“—I know you said you had a minute, but I really don’t want to fuck up your flow. That’s a term, right? You’re a producer, you… flow. Anyway, I just don’t really know anyone here and I didn’t know who to call, and if I don’t get back to work soon my boss is going to kill me—”

“Y/N,” he says, more firmly. Your mouth snaps shut. “Where are you?”

“In my car,” you say dumbly, frazzled.

Yoongi sighs. “Send me your location.”

“For what?”

“I’m gonna send a car to come get you and drive you to your office,” he says, and he sounds just the slightest bit exasperated about needing to explain that to you.

Send a car? What the fuck? You have so many questions, such as: how fucking loaded is the guy who lives two doors down from you in your very shitty apartment building? What label does he even work for? How famous of a producer is he to be able to send a car to you? But your immediate instinct to turn down his help wins out over asking any of them.

“What? Yoongi, no, that’s too much,” you complain. “Don’t do that. I just freaked out a little bit, I can–”

“Y/N,” he interrupts. If you’re not mistaken, it sounds a bit like he’s trying not to laugh at you. Fucker. “Location.”

So you send him your location. What other option do you have?

“You’re not far,” Yoongi says once he receives your text. A few moments pass, and then: “Car will be there in ten.”

“Thank you,” you say. You feel nauseous, like maybe you’re going to cry, but there’s also a good amount of relief there, too. “I’ll make it up to you.”

“No need,” he says. “I’d come get you myself, but I really can’t get away right now.”

“Still, there’s a comically large bottle of an alcohol of your choosing in your future. Seriously, thank you.”

His responding laugh is enough to settle your stomach just a little. “Seriously, you don’t need to pay me back…” A pause. “But for the record, I like whiskey.”

You wrinkle your nose even though he can’t see it. “Gross.”

“Don’t be a hater.”

“As long as you don’t make me drink it with you, I’ll keep my comments to myself,” you say, finding yourself smiling.

“Oh, you think I share?” Yoongi teases back. He sighs again. “I really have to go.”

“Go, go,” you say. “Thanks for saving me. Even if it’s by proxy.”

“You can always call me if you need shit like this,” he says. You can tell that he means it. “I’m glad you called me. Means I’m doing something right.”

“You are,” you say, your voice soft. Your cheeks feel warm. Probably because you’re sitting in a dead car. “Thanks.”

Yoongi hums in response. “Text me when you get back to the office safe, okay?”

“I will. Bye, Yoongi.”

And that’s that.

★ ★ ★

True to your word, you text Yoongi when the stupidly luxurious car he ordered for you drops you off at your office, only ten minutes later than you’re due back from your lunch break. You’re able to slip in without anyone noticing that you’re late at all, which is great. Crisis partially averted.

He sends back a thumbs up emoji, and then decides to drop the bomb that he intends to pay for your car to be towed.

[1:21] You: YOONGI NO

[1:21] You: you can’t do that!!!!

[1:24] Yoongi: 100% I can and will as soon as I get ten minutes to make a phone call to sort it out.

The audacity of this man.

[1:25] You: seriously i cannot ask you to do that

[1:25] You: i was just going to take the bus back to the restaurant after work and deal with it from there. i’m actively researching towing companies and repair places on company time as we speak

[1:30] Yoongi: You’re not asking me. You’ve got enough to worry about. Let me take care of it. I know the places.

[1:31] You: still, i can’t let you spend money like that on me. i don’t even wanna think about what that car cost you

[1:31] Yoongi: If it helps you sleep at night you can pay me back on your own time. You definitely don’t have to though.

[1:32] Yoongi: That reminds me. You can use that car until yours is taken care of if you need to. I’ll send you the driver’s contact. Don’t take the bus.

You feel like you’re going insane.

[1:33] You: do you have a grammy or something? what do you DO to be able to afford shit like this? why do you live in our building? are you a drug dealer?

[1:37] Yoongi: :]

Of course, he gives you no clues about what exactly he does, but after a bit more back-and-forth, you finally give in and let Yoongi handle everything under the condition that you’re going to pay him back. He doesn’t seem all that worried about it, which infuriates you just a little.

You go through the rest of your day like normal, if not a tad twitchy. Come quitting time, you take advantage of having a driver at your disposal and have him stop a liquor store on your way home.

As you take the elevator up to your floor, comically large whiskey bottle (as promised) in tow, you text Yoongi and ask if he’s home yet. At his responding ‘No, why?’ you cackle to yourself and pocket your phone. The elevator doors slide open. You were hoping that would be the case. 

You clocked out at a semi-normal time tonight, a gift to yourself to cope with the stress of the day, and so you take great pleasure in setting the bottle down on Yoongi’s very tasteful cat doormat, flipping it off right back on your way into your own apartment.

You silently pray to whatever god may be listening that the whiskey isn’t swiped by someone before Yoongi gets home. Your cat, Pepper, is blinking at you lazily on the kitchen counter, and you give her a triumphant little scratch on the head before padding to your bedroom to deal with your laundry.

Your move, Min Yoongi.

★ ★ ★

“Do I need to be jealous?”

You take advantage of getting off work early to call your best friend Rina for the first time in what feels like forever. She’s in Paris this month, debuting a play that she’s been working on tirelessly about aliens and drug addiction. You’ve read the script six times over. It’s both campy and gut wrenching all at once, and you’ve cried every time. You picture her with her very chic haircut, sipping from a flute of champagne. The thought of her being jealous of any part of your life is laughable. 

“What do you have to be jealous of, exactly?” you snort, holding your phone between your ear and shoulder as you toss your laundry basket upside down on your bed unceremoniously. Your clothes are covered in a perma-layer of Pepper hair, and you think it’s lucky that Pepper is a black cat and most of your clothes are black. Very enviable.

“Of Yoongi, dipshit,” she coos through the phone. “You’re replacing me.”

“Sure,” you say, like she’s making total sense. You’re lying on top of your laundry now instead of folding it. You put her on speakerphone and rest your phone on your chest. “I’m throwing away ten years of being your best friend for a guy that I met a week ago. I’m glad you figured it out, honestly, because I was dreading telling you. I was going to wait until your matinée, but you don’t seem too broken up about it.”

“Of course. You have to do what’s right for you, I’ve always told you that,” she deadpans back, and you groan. You don’t want to hear it. “No, I just mean… It’s good. That you’re meeting people.”

“We’re neighbors,” you say, flopping over onto your front to rub at your temples. Rina is resting on a pile of your underwear now. “We talk about work. My work, not his, because he thinks it’s funny to act like he’s too cool to tell me about his job. He’s helping me with my car. We’re… neighborly.”

“And you want to fuck him,” she says. Maybe calling Rina was a bad idea. Debriefing over text would have sufficed.

“I don’t want to fuck him,” you say, indignant. “We’re friends. He’s nice. I can have a guy friend.”

“Of course you can,” Rina says, like you’re dumb for even thinking she would imply otherwise. “And you can be friends with him all you want. But you also want to fuck him.”

You groan in protest but she speaks over it.

“Baby, you can pretend, but I know how you talk about people you want to have sex with, even if you don’t say it outright,” she continues. “He may just be feeding you and helping you and talking to you about the weather, but I know you, and I know the whole time he’s talking you’re just agonizing over how he might fuck you if you let him.”

“That’s not fair,” you mumble, letting your face drop into your laundry. It smells good. Small comforts.

“Are you going to let him?”

“No,” you whine, muffled by the cotton. “I don’t need that. There are always strings. I hate strings.”

“You said he’s a super straightforward, honest guy, right?” Rina asks.

“Brutally so,” you grumble.

“So. Maybe he’d be cool with a lack of strings. You won’t know unless you ask, baby.”

You want to tell her that’s easy for her to say, but you don’t want to fight with her when you know you won’t hear from her like this again for a while. 

Rina has never compromised for anything. She decided in both of your sophomore year of college, after flirting with both performance and directing, that she wanted to be a playwright, and that was that. 

She wrote and wrote and wrote, and after you graduated together, her career blossomed almost instantly because she worked goddamn hard for it. She got opportunities to travel and work with theatre companies around the world, and she took them without giving it a second thought because she knew it was what she wanted. And she’s had a consistent, loyal boyfriend nearly the whole time. He doesn’t always travel with her, but he supports her in everything she does. They’re excruciatingly healthy about it. 

When your long-term college boyfriend dumped you unceremoniously two months into your first reporter gig because he felt he came second to your career, Rina was there for you. But you resented her a little bit. There was no way she could understand any of it. 

Still, as much as you hate to admit it, she has a point. You could just ask Yoongi if he wants to fool around without it being a thing, and you know he’d give you a straight answer. You’re even pretty confident he wouldn’t make it weird if his answer was no. That’s not the problem. It never is.

“The problem isn’t whether or not I think he’d be cool with it,” you mumble. “The problem is if he is cool with it, and then the strings come anyway. The friendship is nice. I’m attracted to him, yeah, fine. But I can ignore it if it means I get to be his friend.”

Theres a long pause on the line, and then Rina sighs.

“Your life would be a lot easier if you could do one night stands,” she says.

Don’t you know it. 

“Yeah.”

“I’ve gotta go, okay? Text me. Keep me updated on life.” You read between the lines. On Yoongi, she means. “I love you.”

“Mmmhh,” you mumble back, still burying your face into your laundry. 

When the line disconnects, you feel considerably more twitchy and irritable than you did before talking to Rina.

So, you’re attracted to Yoongi. Or you were, when you were drunk and he was all… hot and considerate. That doesn’t mean you have to act on it! You’re not going to act on it. You’re just pent up, that’s all. It’s been a long time since you’ve had an orgasm, self-inflicted or otherwise, and you can’t think straight.

Maybe you should fix that.

It’s clear you’re giving up on laundry for the night, so you shove the mountain of clothes back into the basket on the floor, sighing as you lay back on your bed.

You feel only slightly ridiculous as you shimmy your sleep shorts down your thighs, your hands sliding up your shirt to cup your breasts, squeezing slightly. Warming yourself up.

You quickly decide to get to the point, though. You’re struggling to immerse yourself in the fantasy that usually does the trick, too wound up and embarrassed (as if it’s not you in here by yourself, as usual) at groping yourself.

Despite the embarrassment, it becomes abundantly clear that you didn’t really need to warm yourself up anyway. Your fingers slide through your folds with ease, drenched like you’ve been that way all fucking day, unbeknownst to you, and a surprised moan falls from your lips. Fuck.

Closing your eyes, you circle two fingers around your clit experimentally, making your hips jerk up under you, sensitive. You do it again, a little firmer, starting a slow rhythm that makes you squirm against your mattress, your bottom lip rolling between your teeth.

It feels good. It usually does—you’ve always been able to make quick work of an orgasm to rid yourself of any lingering jitters before bed. But it feels really good right now, your pussy extra sensitive tonight, and you can’t figure out why. There’s nothing new about what you’re doing.

Rina’s words worm their way into your brain uninvited—the whole time he’s talking you’re just agonizing over how he might fuck you if you let him—and you’re too turned on to stop that train of thought, flashes of capable hands and pink tongue (tonguetechnologytonguetechnologytonguetechnology) filling your mind, and you’re moaning softly despite yourself as you rub your clit a little faster.

You continue to make soft noises of pleasure, your tongue darting out to wet your lips, dry from panting as the barrage of Yoongi-related thoughts keep coming, bringing you closer and closer to your release. 

Dark, dark eyes looking down at you. A delicate chain dangling above your face. You whimper, your fingers sliding down from your clit to sink into your pussy, curling up to rub at your inner walls. A thick cock sliding into you, filling you so deliciously.

You pump your fingers fast and desperate as you get closer and closer to that sweet edge. You wonder what Yoongi would sound like if he was the one fucking into you right now. Would he moan in your ear in that gravelly voice of his? He’s a man of few words. Would he be like that in bed, too? Would he call you sweet names? Not so sweet? Which ones?

Your walls flutter around your fingers, your hips stuttering up off the mattress as your orgasm crashes over you and you gasp out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.

You stare up at the ceiling for a minute panting. The high of your release buzzes pleasantly through your body before it starts ebbing away, but the thoughts of Yoongi pervade. Well, fuck.

After another moment, you roll over onto your stomach to grab a towel from your laundry basket and wipe off your fingers, tossing it on the floor. You grab your phone, only to be greeted by a notification from the subject of your masturbation fantasy himself. He sent it about ten minutes ago.

When you tap it open, you’re greeted with a photo (!!!) of Yoongi holding your gift next to his head, the hand wrapped around the neck of the whiskey bottle almost dwarfed by its sheer size. A testament to the ridiculousness of it, because you’re well aware of how long Yoongi’s fingers are. There’s a lazy smirk on his face, and a mole that you’re just now noticing on his right cheek.

[8:23] Yoongi: Cute. 

Yep. Yep. Cool.

You swipe out, tapping on Rina’s contact.

[8:35] You: okay. i want to fuck him. 

[8:35] Rina: 🥂🥳🎉

Shit.

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[uceyliyahh]

SOMETHING BOUT’ US

Summary: "I want you more than anything in my life." After being in a difficult relationship with Carmelo Yasmine decided to move on from him and become the next big thing while getting drafted on the smackdown roster she always thought she would never find love again due to her commitment issues until she met him.

This fanfic is 18+! NO MINORS ALLOWED

word count: 4242

smut warning; it’ll come in the story randomly so PLEASE PLEASE look out for it I’m not really good at writing ✍🏽 smuts but I’m improving at the moment.

Jey Uso x Yasmine

AWFUL GRAMMAR IM GETTING BETTER I SWEAR LOL.

comments, likes, repost are appreciated I would love the constructive feedback in what area I need to approve in. 🤍

ALSO! I don’t not want nobody stealing my fanfics or take it as theirs that will be an issue fasho so keep it cute respectfully.

I only own my OC along with the make up scenarios

But I’ll be writing along the way since this story is in my drafts on Wattpad right now so yuh. 💁🏽‍♀️

TAGS ⬇️ lmk if you wanna be tag 🏷️@pinkwithhearts @420days @jstarr86 @empressdede @angiedawn02 @biancasreign

@bebesobrielo @skyesthebomb @aikosilo @papireigns-05 @punksyeet @paigereeder @magnificentbouquetmusic

@hunnidmilly @celesteheartsjey @charmed-dreamssss @fearlesschimera @partypoison00 @mselenalovebug @bloodlinesbabe93 @lov3rla03 @simpin4pixels @nbanenefrmdao

4.

YASMINE It was nine in the morning as the birds were chirping, and sunlight was beaming through my curtains I and Jey were sleeping soundly while I was lying on top of his body while his hands were resting on my butt firmly underneath the warm blanket.

We were sleeping well until I heard my door open, which caused me to flutter my eyes open, squinting to see who was at my door. I saw that it was Bianca coming in, seeing me and him sleeping in the same bed together.

"Is y'all two like dating or something?" She whispered. I immediately shook my head while she snickered at me.

Feeling Jey shifting his position and pulling me down with him, which shocked Me, and Bianca gripping my butt tightly, making my body feel electricity when he did that.

"Please don't tell Montez about this...even though he knows, but don't tell me about this part." I whispered as she nodded her head before heading out.

Bianca shut the door as I gazed up at Jey, who was still sleeping soundly, mumbling something. Maybe he was having a bad dream right now, which is why he did what he did.

He slithered his hands inside of my shorts. It made me feel a little bit wet from him doing this, but I had to get up and get ready for work. Today, I do hair on the side because it's my favorite thing to do.

I tried to get up from his grasp, but he wouldn't move, "J-Josh...I gotta get up, c'mon." He groaned, not even hinting that he wanted to get up.

'I'm going to be late for work because of this man.'

I just lay there for a moment before trying again. I was playing in his mullet, watching him sleep. His features looked so beautiful that I couldn't help but admire him.

I grabbed his phone, which was next to him, and checked the time. I sighed deeply, knowing that I was going to be late, so I managed to escape his grip while standing up and walking quietly toward my bathroom.

I removed my clothing as I began my skincare routine before heading into the shower. While I was doing that, I heard my bedroom door opening. Montez was probably in there, and that's when I heard thumping on the floor.

'Do these two have to play fight in my bedroom?'

I heard them two going at it with each other playfully as I finished up my skincare routine. When I realized I hadn't brought my towel with me, I cursed under my breath. I slightly opened the door, seeing them two wrestling each other on the ground. That's when I cleared my throat, gaining their attention.

"What's up Minks?" Montez questioned me.

"I forgot my towel can one of yall bring it to me please?" I said, having the door slightly closed so that they wouldn't be scarred for life by my naked figure.

They both stared at each other figuring out who was going to bring me my towel 'I literally told these dickheads one of them can bring it, why do men have to be stupid.' That's when Jey got up from the floor and saw my pink towel that was hanging from my chair.

He walked towards me, holding my towel in his hands, smiling at me before heading towards Montez.

"Thank you Josh."

"You're welcome ma." Jey said, hearing the bathroom door shut.

✧˚° After eating breakfast with everyone, I managed to make it to work. I saw everyone getting their heads done, and then I went inside the break room to clock in for work.

I felt my phone buzz while I pulled it out from my pocket, seeing that Jey had texted me. I had three or four clients today for hair appointments, so today would be busy.

Joshua🤍 sent 2+ messages IMESSAGE 💬 Joshua🤍: Hey, Mama I was seeing if you made it to work safe Joshua🤍: you're one hell of a cook girl is there anything you can't do? 😭

I smiled at his messages. He seemed so sweet and genuine, but I had to protect myself at all costs, and I really did want us to be friends first before anything happened. But I don't know. It's like every time I see him or even be around him, he always makes me nervous.

IMESSAGE 💬 Yasmine🩵: yes I made it to work safe Josh Joshua🤍: that's good mama so your brother calls you Minks? Huh? Yasmine🩵: yeah, it's a nickname he would call me growing up as a kid Joshua🤍: it's cute I should change yo' name in my phone to that. Yasmine🩵: it's your world Joshua do whatever Joshua🤍: whatever little girl Yasmine🩵: 🖕🏼🖕🏼

I'm tired of his ass calling me a little girl like a he's big dawg or something; one of my clients came in a bit late due to traffic. I told them that I wasn't trippin' and was very understanding with the whole traffic situation.

As I was washing their locs in the sink, I couldn't help but think about Jey and how gentle he is with me as a friend, of course. I honestly don't know if I'll be able to fall in love again after what happened to me.

But Jey is something different; different from the others. I just couldn't wrap my head around it. After washing their locs, I sat them down in the hairdryer so that their locs could dry. In the meantime, I was getting my loc gel and comb ready for them, along with texting Jey.

Yasmine🩵: what'chu doing? Joshua🤍: I'm at the gym working out right now Yasmine🩵: interesting 🤔 Joshua🤍: wym by that? you wanna see a pic or something? Yasmine🩵: nah nah i was just saying that's all I thought you would be chilling in the crib Joshua🤍: well I got a dark match tonight on smackdown so I have to be in good shape Yasmine🩵: a'ight a'ight Joshua🤍:

'This man is going to shoot me dead like woah.'

Yasmine🩵: okay period get them gains boy Joshua🤍: girl, yo' ass is funny for real Yasmine🩵: what can I say I'm the funniest person in the fam 🙂 Joshua🤍: don't you got a client to be focusing one right now ma'am? Yasmine🩵: yes but their hair is drying right now, and not too much don't be tryna clock me sir 🙄 Joshua🤍: you and that sassy ass attitude of yours Yasmine🩵: what'chu goin' to do about it?

'Where is this boldness coming from?'

Joshua🤍: fuck around and find out Minks 🙂 Yasmine🩵: you know what let me go finish my clients hair before I catch a case Joshua🤍: man, you ain't gonna do a damn thing little mama better watch yo' self Yasmine🩵: yap yap yap that's all I hear right now Josh and you aren't goin' do shit either so that makes the two of us. 😀💁🏼‍♀️ Joshua🤍: mhm just wait until I see yo' ass

I rolled my eyes at the text he just sent he's so annoying he's like another annoying ass brother hell he's even worse than Montez ass, i sat my client down in the chair and began parting their  hair doing what I do best.

They showed me what hairstyles they wanted, and I told them I could do that for them. As I was focusing on their hair, I heard a familiar voice coming in the background; not even paying attention, noticing that an unwanted presence was walking up towards me.

I looked up only to see Carmelo standing there with my favorite roses in his hands along with some other things, I don't know if this was him telling me that he's sorry or some type of trick for him to do it to me again.

"Carmelo what are you doing here?" I questioned him.

"Baby I just came to visit my favorite girl at work. Are you coming to support me tonight for my dark match?" Carmelo said.

"I'm going to be there only to support Montez and Jey..." when I said that name his facial expression dropped immediately.

He remembered what he had said to me, saying how I only belonged to him and only him, so when he heard me say another man's name, he didn't like that.

"As in Jey Uso?"

"Yeah, Jonathan's twin." I replied while applying the clips onto their locs.

"What's goin with'chu and him?" Why the fuck is he asking me all of these questions I literally just met Jey and we are just friends 'or so I thought.'

Like he's being possessive when we aren't even together anymore, how the fuck does that work?

"Look, don't start this in here with me while I'm at work. You can leave respectfully," I said sternly, staring deeply into his dark brown eyes.

"I'm just asking baby, ion' want no other nigga to be all in that like I do shit he probably can't handle all of you." I scoffed in disbelief. How could he be so confident about this? When he doesn't even know the little mini flirting that me and Jey do like, Jey could scoop me up right away in a heartbeat.

I nodded my head, cooperating with him so that nothing terrible happened to me while I was there because he was crazy and he could end up doing what he did before.

He placed a kiss on my cheek, which gave me shivers down my spine. How badly I wanted to wipe that fucking kiss off of my face as he walked off.

I immediately wiped the kiss off my cheek, feeling disgusted as I continued to do their locs.

✧˚° I was done with work today and made a lot of tips, which made me happy. I texted Montez, letting him know that I'll be in his locker room watching his match, including Jey's match as well. I have never seen him wrestle before in the ring, so this should be interesting.

As I was walking towards his locker room i bumped into Jey who had his yeet gear on along with his golden grills including his piercings and fresh haircut I just wanted to pass out right then and there but I had to play it cool.

"My fault minks didn't even see you there yo' ass is short." Jey said jokingly as I punched him in his arm.

"Don't be coming for my height just because you're taller than me don't mean that I won't whoop that ass." I said boldly as he had a smug expression appearing on his lips.

"You like to talk a lot of shit don't you little mama." I nodded my head while folding my arms over my chest standing my ground I was not finna play with him right now.

Little did I know someone was watching us behind the corner.

"Last time I checked, I said you weren't going to do anything about it." I got all up in his face, looking deeply into his low, hooded eyes.

I felt him pull me by the waist so that I could be closer to his body, he smelt so good it felt like I was in heaven right now with him.

Our faces were close to each other lips almost touching each other while he whispered something in my ear, "and last time I checked I said fuck around and find out didn't I?" His voice was so deep and raspy, almost killing somebody.

My breathing felt uneven, being underneath him like this. Why am I getting like this with him? I looked down at my hands, fiddling with them as he grabbed my chin, making me stare into his eyes yet again.

Earning a smile from him before brushing his thumb against my lips, "your adorable minks but I'll see you later after my match yeah?"

"Yeah, I'll be in Montez's locker room," I said as he and I backed away from each other, letting him off to his match while I walked inside Montez's locker room.

She sat down in the chair, staring up at the TV, seeing her brother and Angelo coming out with B-fab, hyping up the crowd. They always played in my brother's face like he wouldn't have a title shot.

As I was watching them, I heard the door opening and saw Trinity coming in. She came up to me, giving me a hug before sitting down.

"Hey babygirl how are you mentally?" She asked.

"I'm doing better mentally, honestly." I replied seeing Montez and Angelo coming out.

She raised an eyebrow at me, "And who's helping you out with that girl?" I didn't say anything; I just looked at her and then back up at the screen, watching my brother's match.

Trinity got the hint of who was helping out with that, and she knew that it was her brother-in-law, Jey. He and I are just friends, and he's been helpful throughout the whole thing.

"So you and Josh?" My eyes fixed on her. "We are just friends, Trin; nothing more. I told you all I think I wanna be in a relationship again."

"I understand if I were in your shoes, Yasmine, but I think Josh is different from any other guy that you have dealt with, including Carmelo. But I get it, " she said.

I nodded my head while watching Montez get dropped on the table, feeling his pain, as I was watching my brother get demolished right now. Meanwhile, I started to drown in my thoughts, thinking about what had happened earlier at work and then the intense moment Jey and I had together.

I threw away the roses he had bought me not wanting to trace any negative energy around me and when he kissed me on the cheek I just felt so disgusted especially after what he did to me.

I was listening to what Trinity had said about Jey. Maybe she's right, and maybe he is different from any other guy I was with, but I would have to see that for myself. But did I really want to go through that route again?

Dating someone just for them to hurt me again at this point I might as well kill myself if that was the case. Nonetheless I have to protect myself at all cost.

"Do you know when you're debuting on Smackdown?"

"I have no idea Paul hasn't said anything to me yet about it." I said shrugging my shoulders in the process.

"Well, he needs to figure it out so I can see my girl do some flips." I chuckled at her. Looking at the screen, I saw that Montez and Angelo got the W for tonight. I think Jey's match is the main event after the commercial break.

Hearing Montez coming in with Bianca as he held onto his head with an ice pack, man if I was in his shoes right now I probably would've been in pain man.

"How are you feeling brother?"

"Nigga I'm in pain girl just wait until you start you'll understand." Montez said.

"Nigga What'chu mean? I already felt it when I was in NXT." I said jokingly while rolling my eyes at him.

"So, Yasmine, how are you and Joshua?" Montez looked at me and then back at Bianca, confused, trying to figure out what she was talking about.

I told her to stop talking about it because there wasn't anything going on between me and him. We are just friends, nothing more. Well, that's what I believe because we've been doing some mini flirting, like earlier before I came to the Montez locker room.

But Montez wasn't buying it he wanted to know since he trust Jey with his life. "Brother, nothing is happening between him and I; I promise we are just friends." I earned a hum from him as he was smelling bullshit but just left it alone.

I know how overprotective Montez is toward me, especially now since the incident that happened, so of course, he's going to be looking out for me.

I heard Jey's music playing as his match was approaching. I saw him coming out of the gorilla and going towards the ring, mouthing to the camera, "Here I go, here I go." I couldn't help but admire him as I watched him go out there.

He was interacting with the crowd as they waved the hands up and down vibing out with him.

✧˚° I was walking towards the gorilla to congratulate Jey on his win tonight when I felt someone pull me to the side before I could turn. When I turned around, I saw Carmelo next to me with his arms folded.

I rolled my eyes at him, trying to ignore his presence. Walking in, the gorilla saw Jey standing there, his hair all messy and sweating. Man, he never fails to look so good.

He had his back turned, talking to Jonathan about something. As I tapped him on the shoulder, he turned around, noticing my little self gazing up at him.

I still felt Carmelo's presence behind me as Jey gazed down at me with a smile while giving me a hug. I knew that Carmelo was watching, probably fuming right now at the sight.

"Hey, pretty girl you watched my match for tonight?" Jey asked as he kept his hands on my hips.

"Yeah, I did you did a great job out there Josh." I said.

"Thank you, hope I can see you out there I heard you were on hell of an athlete doing flips and shit." I chuckled at him maintaining that eye contact with him god he was so fine and mesmerizing to see.

That's when we heard someone clear their throat behind us, completely forgetting that Carmelo was standing right there with his arms folded, looking at Jey and me. Meanwhile, Jonathan was behind us, knowing that he was protecting me away from him.

Shit both of them were.

"Can we talk in private Yasmine?" Carmelo asked.

"No, I don't wanna speak nor be around you Melo I gotta go home because I'm tired." I said as I felt Jey's hand around my waist.

"Nah it's because you're around this nigga, I told you; you better not find nobody else because you belong to me didn't I?" Jey came in front of me, standing in his face, staring down as they had a face-off with each other.

"She don't belong to nobody like she's some pet show some fucking respect." Jey said sternly.

Carmelo looked him up and down, scoffing before leaving out the gorilla, mouthing that I was going to get it whenever I was alone and not with them, but as long as they were around, he couldn't do a damn thing.

Jey turned around and faced me, signaling Jon that we needed some privacy alone, and that's what he did, leaving me and him alone.

"Thanks for sticking up for me, Josh. That really means a lot," I said, fiddling with my fingers.

"It's all good mama, ion know what's your history with him but he's toxic." Knowing damn well he knew that was your ex-boyfriend me and him walked towards his locker room as he shut the door behind us while I sat down on his couch.

My eyes followed his every move as he took off the gear that he had on; I looked away, scrolling through my socials, not trying to get caught by him.

"Did you drive here to work Yasmine?" He asked.

"Yeah, I did why? Did you want to take me home?"

"I did, actually, that's why I had to ask, but are you good being in here by yourself while I go take a shower?" I nodded my head as he left toward the restrooms, locking the door to make sure nobody came in.

I was on my phone waiting for Joshua to finish when I saw that Montez had texted me.

Big Bro Tez💪🏽 sent 2+ messages IMESSAGE 💬 Big Bro Tez💪🏽: where are you Minks? Big Bro Tez: lemme' know

I know that he's worried about be and my whereabouts but I was with Joshua I am safe.

Minnie🧃: I'm okay Montez I'm in Joshua's locker room right now. Big Bro Tez💪🏽: oh A'ight I was just making sure that's all Minnie🧃: he made sure to lock the door so nobody won't come in Big Bro Tez💪🏽: okay, then little sis I'll see you at home. Minnie🧃: kk

After texting Montez to let him know what was happening, I made sure I had my keys and purse with me. I've seen Jey coming in with some fresh new clothes on, along with his hair still being wet.

"Hey, I'm finna head home Josh." I spoke as he watched me get up from the couch.

"Lemme' walk you to your car then that way I could get to mines as well." Jey replied as I nodded my head while we both walked out the locker room together going towards the garage.

As we were walking down to the garage, I felt his gaze on me, as if he were admiring me. However, I didn't want to catch him in the act, so I just played it off.

He was so bad at hiding it, too, which made me snicker at him, causing him to raise an eyebrow at me. "What's so funny?"  I looked up at him seeing his face being all serious.

"You're funny Joshua, not trying to get caught stealing glances at me or what?" I said in a teasing tone.

"Don't start with that teasing shit Yasmine." I rolled my eyes at him while sticking my tongue out at him.

"Or what? What are you goin' to do Josh?" I was tempting him right now as I could see that same smug expression on his face that he had earlier when we had this similar conversation—running his available hand down his beard.

I finally reached my car, opened the backseat, threw my purse inside, and shut the door.

I felt his hands on my hips turning me around as he cornered me keeping me in place, our faces were close to each other.

"You're honestly testing me Minks."

I shrugged my shoulders at him, folding my arms over my chest.

"What can I say sir, I love to test people's patience so they can fix it." I said boldly, grabbing his face and squeezing his cheeks, his hands slithering down my ass cheeks, squeezing them, causing me to yelp.

"What'chu want me to fix huh? That sassy ass attitude of yours?" Lord have mercy, his deep voice will be the death of me speaking to me like this. All of that confidence just went down the drain after he spoke up like that.

I glanced down at my feet while he gently raised my chin, his fingers brushing his thumb on my lips, and stared deeply at me.

"Don't got nun to say? What happened little mama?"

"Boy, fuck you and move so I can get in the car." He gave me a swat on the ass cheeks, holding them since he enjoys that stuff, me being all snarky towards him.

'I feel like me and his chemistry is there like so there.'

'But I remember what I told myself: don't be vulnerable around anybody or give in. With Joshua he seems so different from the rest.'

Joshua stays that way including eye contact with each other; he is quite patient with me and understanding especially where I am coming from during all of this.

"Fix that attitude."

"No, Josh moveeee." I whined

"Nah, c'mere princess." He scooped me up by the thighs placing me on the trunk of my car getting between my legs.

As he looked down at me with his hooded eyes and I looked up at him with my innocent ones, he was giving me a lot of anxiety right now. He licked his lips while glancing down at my lips and then back to my gaze.

I was unsure of his next move, but I could feel his stiff member between my legs as his hand brushed my cheek and lifted my chin.

"J-Josh...I want to take things slow...I want to get to know you more before anything..." I said softly.

"I understand mama ion' wanna pressure you into anything let's get to know each other a little better and be best friends." He said placing a kiss on my cheek.

This made me blush a little bit while looking away from him for a second. He chuckled at my cuteness before moving away from my legs.

He held his hand out as I took it, getting down from my trunk and fixing myself as he opened my door for me like a true gentleman.

When I got inside my car, he stood there, asking, "Am I going to see you tomorrow?" I nodded my head as he shut my door gently while I pushed the button to start the ignition.

Before I drove off towards the gate, I blew him a kiss. He was so charming, staring down at me like that, that I wondered what would have occurred if we had gone a little farther. I could feel his firm member between my legs, which made me realize he must have been packing.

Because of my commitment difficulties, I do not want to rush things since I am afraid he would cheat on me. Or, while we are currently great friends, find someone else. I began to obsess over it, wondering if Carmelo was correct.  Although she is most likely saying it because it is her brother-in-law, I still want to trust what Trinity said.

I am not sure, but I will continue to protect my heart with this barrier.

SomeThing Bout' Us.

A/n: things between Yasmine and Jey are getting spicy right now but I'm glad that Jey is respecting her and him wanting to be best friends with her.

Carmelo ass finna be shitty when he finds out about them two being all over each other.

But I hope yall enjoy this chapter lmk in the comments below.

Stay Ucey.

[cerezzzita]

🍓 ˖ . ᵎᵎ Sugarcoating ✦ 3Dante x Fem!Reader

⌕ summary: Dante purposes that you two should kiss, and is not a big deal. After all, friends does this, too.

notes: to start the month with some goodies, let's have some smoochies! (Jesus Christ, why am I like that) hello y'all, how's it going? so, yeah, was feeling in the mood for writing a kiss/making-out scene and, well, no one better than Dante, right? right! in advance, I apologize because I tend to suck at kiss scenes and so so sooo sorry for the end being sorta turn-off. really, i was just excited to post it already after the feedback I had with the sneak peak. anyways, enjoy the reading!

♡ word count: 970

♡ tags: fem!reader, no use of pronouns (you/yours only), no description of reader's appearance, use of pet names, kissing, making-out, slightly suggestive but nothing explicit (it got hottie hottie at some point, i think), Dante tastes as strawberry and vanilla because I said so, 3Dante my beloved bf and mentions of friends with benefits.

ⓘ gif's not mine!!

"What if we kissed?"

Your irises, focused before on the vast pages of the magazine, took an interested route to the owner of the question. Usually sitting with his feet up on the shop's wooden table, Dante's heavenly eyes gazed at you, curiously, brow arched and a wolfish grin summoned to his lips.

"What?" Your voice had come up with a high pitch.

"You heard me, angelcake," now the jovial Devil Hunter propped his chin on one hand, blinking both eyes with a certain air of grace. "You're a babe, I'm a hot stuff; I only see the pros." Dante shrugged as he finished his sentence.

Your reply was a short, airy laugh. Closing the random magazine in your hands, you adjusted your body on the sofa that was in front of Dante's desk, with your legs duly intertwined and, smiling a little, imitated the chin placed in the palm.

"Until yesterday, we were just friends considering — in your words — your bad luck with the ladies."

"Bingo," he snapped his fingers, not avoiding his turn to chuckle, "However, you are one of the few ladies to have ever shot me in the forehead."

"Really? Because the way you piss me off sometimes…"

"Ouch, baby, it's part of my charm. Anyway, what if we really kissed?" This time, Dante's inquiry came with an edge of seriousness, and you engaged in debate with your train of thought and the stations through which it passed.

Okay, Dante was eye candy without a doubt. Dangerously attractive and even if inconvenient in certain situations, you had to admit that he had an undeniable charisma and a generous heart.

Maybe he was also nice to kiss.

So why not?

It wasn't like the friendship between the two of you was going to end or wither because of a mere silly kiss…

You cleared your throat and rose from the sofa, tracing steps towards Dante, who was now smirking like he was the Cheshire Cat incarnate. Gone was all shyness and hesitation from the moment you walked around the table and placed yourself on the Devil Hunter's lap and wrapped your arms around his firm neck; cheeky, he let out a low chuckle of contentment.

"Is that a yes?" Dante's hands snaked stealthily up to grip your waist, an act that sent a rush of heat and shivers through you, and he felt it all too well, so much that his fingers began to caress your skin.

"Let's see if it is," determined, you calmly moved your face closer to Dante's until you felt the subtle brush of the tips of your noses and the warm breath against yours.

Quietly, you initiate the kiss. Sparda's handsome son made a sound akin to a pleasurable growl, moving his hands to your back and then lowering them to your thighs. You sighed. Until then, the movement of your lips had been carried out slowly and without much haste.

As if it were the beginning of a tasting.

Your fingers unconsciously tangled in the pale silk strands that were Dante's hair, he seemed to enjoy the touch. His lips were like velvet, a certain strawberry and vanilla flavor that when fused with the soft texture of his mouth, made you want more.

Dante, with some efficiency, had taken a slow nibble on your lower lip. The sensation was beneficial enough that your mouth opened, accompanied by a low, surprised moan, and then his smooth tongue darted in and involved with yours. Once a simple kiss, now it became hungry and voluptuous.

The half-demon greedily squeezed your thighs, grinning as another groan came from you; Dante stiffened and shivered as the scrape of your nail tips traveled down the back of his neck. He groaned too and then led the grips down to your ass, having the audacity to even give it a silent pat there.

You gasped from the lack of air and Dante's fiery acts that made your insides crackle like you were on fire. As you gasped, your mouths peeled off.

"Dante…" your bashful sigh brought another grunt of delight from the young Devil Hunter who was now finding refuge for his fervent mouth on the skin of your neck, gifting the curve with soft nips and lazy licks. "D-Dante…"

"Aw, baby…" you heard him suck in air through his teeth before giving you another lick, Dante was so caught up in the moment as you were that he started babbling disjointedly, "... Just like I imagined, you're sweet as hell, just the way I imagined it... So sweet, so delicious..."

His voice, husky and sly, made your muscles quiver and instinctively your thighs clenched together. Dante looked up and saw your irises hidden by your lashes and your head tilted back with brows positively twitching. He laughed, his eyes now blue like hellish flames and luscious.

You looked at him with half-closed eyelids and silently, flattening your hands on Dante's firm, strong chest. Much to your glee, he gave you a satisfied 'ooh'.

"Dante…"

"Yeah?"

Again, you sighed, more calmly than a few minutes ago.

"I…" you bit your lip, feeling abruptly self-conscious at the way Dante's ice blue colored orbs roamed over your figure. Worth mentioning, the young son of Sparda's hands were still placed on your ass. "Hm…"

"Lost your tongue all of a sudden, angel?"

"Hm, maybe she's still tangled up in yours," you shrugged, putting on a petit smile.

"Naughty," Dante chuckled, "Want to see if she's really tangled up in mine?"

"Now that you mention it, I do."

On this specific time, it was the half-demon who had kissed you passionately, with you again moaning in delight as you savoured his sweet tongue inside your mouth. You both smiled over each other's lips.

If your friendship continued sugarcoated like that, so be it.

cerezzzita©, 2023 · all rights reserved ⓘ do not copy, edit, steal or claim as yours | reblogs and comments are appreciated!

[cheapshrimpysheep]

First Date - Scarabia

SUMMARY: What would your first date with him be like? I know first dates might not go so well, but let's pretend these are different. ;)

CHARACTERS: Kalim Al-Asim & Jamil Viper

TAGS: Fluf; GN Reader; Flirting; Kissing

WARNING: Spoilers from: Book 4 AND A Firelit Sky: over the Sands

WORD COUNT: An average of 670 words per character.

Heartslabyul / Savanaclaw / Octavinelle / Scarabia / Pomefiore / Ignihyde / Diasomnia

COMMENTS: I managed to write this one in one day. First because there are only two characters. But second, because I feel that Kalil is relatively easy to write and because I'm similar to Jamil in many ways, what I write about him tends to flow easily.

I hope you enjoy ;)

Kalim's already taken you on a carpet ride, took you to Scarabia’s Oasis, taken you to his homeland, showed you the fireworks of Al'ab Nariya. What the heck is he going to do for your date?!?! JAMIL HELP!!! First of all: No animal parades!

They both discuss it for some time until Jamil says that it’s not a bad idea to do something you've done before but in a different way. Kalim's taken you on a carpet ride before, but not in a romantic context. And you two have been to the Oasis, but not alone.

He still wants to do something new, something bigger, but he trusts Jamil's opinion and advice. After all, he knows you too, maybe he's right and that's enough for a first date.

He surprises you one night. You hear someone knocking on your bedroom window, which is on the first floor. When you draw the curtains, he's there, sitting on his flying carpet. And he invites you to go with him, somewhere. It's a surprise. Do you trust him?

You ride around the NRC for a while, enjoying the view of the campus at night, before he takes you to Scarabia, to fly once more through those skies, this time at night. And it's Beautiful! The sky was clear, revealing all the stars surrounding the large half moon. And this time, you weren't talking about Jamil, but about each other.

He talks and smiles a lot. He asks a lot about you, you likes, your world, etc. He's so curious about the person he has a crush on. And he ends up getting very close to you without realizing it. Your shoulders touching. Maybe the carpet fakes a little turbulence to get the two of you even closer, to the point where you're in each other's arms. If you don't show yourself uncomfortable, or on the contrary, even smile about it, then you will stay that way for the rest of the ride.

You arrive at the Oasis. The moon reflecting in the calm waters. He helps you get off the carpet and starts looking around muttering something like “Where was it again?” The carpet flies to one of the nearby palm trees and returns with a basket and picnic blanket, and Kalim thanks it. Needless to say, it was Jamil who put the basket in there and prepared the food.

The two of you continue talking as you eat, sitting on the picnic blanket by the water. He looks like he's having as much fun as you are, until his expression gets slightly less excited because he's remembered something: “Um... (Y/N)?... Are you enjoying the date? I mean, I think you are, you're smiling a lot. But... is this really enough? It doesn't feel enough.”

You tell him that this is enough, of course it is. The two of you being together is enough to make you smile. Being alone with Kalim like this, on an official date, is more than enough. And he's so glad about that! He is so relieved that he can make you so happy with so little. That means he can always make you happy and see your wonderful smile.

He hugs you and tells you how he’s felling, how happy he is that you are happy by his side. Then the carpet nudges him in the shoulder. He looks confused for a moment, until he realizes what the carpet brought him that he had already forgotten about. “AH! Yeah, I was having so much fun I forgot. You're a lifesaver.” he says to the carpet.

He gives you a big bouquet of jasmines. At Scalding Sands, he told you about the story of the thief who gave jasmines to the princess he loved, remember? You look at the beautiful flowers and Kalim's big and sweet smile. You have nothing to give him... except for, maybe, a thank you kiss.

Jamil is always busy and stressed. Yet somehow, he managed to arrange a night for the two of you. He's managed to get some Scarabian students responsible enough to take care of Kalim while he's with you. However, if something happens he won't be too far away, because he took you to Scarabia anyway.

He took you to the empty room where you stayed when... well, he kinda kidnapped you... You had no idea what he had planned until he opened the door. It wasn't empty. It had cushions on the floor, a small table for eating, opaque and translucent fabrics decorating the walls. It reminded you a little of his dorm lounge, but more romantic. And it was night, so the only things illuminating the interior were the moonlight coming through the small window and the lighted lamps. He did all that for you?

A quiet and comfy place where he can have a dinner and rest with you, this is what he prepared for you two. You enter and sit on the cushions in front of the table full of food prepared by him. He made your favourite foods, his favourite foods, new foods that you said at some point you wanted to try, an authentic feast to the taste of both of you.

He will look at you discreetly while you eat something you like, to appreciate the face you make when you're delighted by it. When you try something new, he will offer to feed you, again because he wants to see your reaction. Of course everything is delicious, he doesn't have to worry about you not liking the dishes and he knows it. After all, he was careful to make things he knew you would like, removing all the ingredients you didn't like.

You're on a date, which means you have a crush on each other and which makes him allow himself to be more cheeky. At the end of dinner, he will take advantage of you leaning back a little and lay his head on your thighs. When he sees your blushing face he smirks a little. Truth being told, he's blushing a little bit himself. You can see he's tired, despite his attempts to hide it from you. That and you can feel his body relaxing. After all, it's his date too.

You start petting his head his head and playing with his hair, and you see a smile so sweet and so rare that it warms your heart. He reaches out to caress your cheek. “Can I ask you something?” you nod and he smirk once more “Could you feed me some grapes?” you raise an eyebrow, still smiling a little “Please? I've always been curious to know what it felt like.”

You take the bunch of grapes and bring them close to you so that you can take one grape at a time and feed it to Jamil. You see his expression is a little smug, but grateful and appreciative too. You two chat while you feed him the grapes, until he gently takes your hand before you can take it back to the bunch of grapes and kiss it.

His kiss was so soft and caring, you couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like to have them on yours. He gets up, sits beside you, and look you in the eyes. Your first reflection? After what happened when he took you to Scarabia the first time? Quickly look away, as if dodging something.

He lets out a low gasp. “Wait, no, I’m, not...” he gives you a moment, until he brings his hand to your cheek “I'm sorry, really sorry. But I promise you I won't do it to you ever again. It's different now. I didn't know you. But now I do.” with his other hand, he takes yours “I don't do that to people I care about. And know I care about you. Please... let me see your eyes.” You give in and look into his eyes. And you feel nothing but your heart racing. And his face comes even closer to yours.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[hephaestiions]

'24 retrospective

thank you, @kamaela & @hollyhawthorn for the tag on ruminations from 2024, we're going to pretend i'm not a whole week late to it.

sometime in— march?— i got high and thought— wouldn't it be fantastic if draco and harry did that too? started writing what became almost 7k words of porn with feelings about harry being taken care of, which marked a return to ao3 and my first fic since 2021. win! i posted some shorter, quicker stuff to tumblr, of which i particularly enjoyed writing this auror partners transfer request, about harry, lettuce & embroidery yarn, and grace.

it's been a year of figuring out style & character, what works, what doesn't, what holds weight & water, slips, comes back. which is mostly to say it's been a year of drafts, writing & scrapping, letting things marinate in docs, coming up with several thousand wips & resisting the urge to take down older fics and repost them in a style i agree with more now.

2024 was also the year of getting into reccing, which i've enjoyed far, far more than i expected. my three author reclists for plor, wolf & tacky were my favourite to do, i loved the immersive invite of them. given my need to devour back catalogues of every author i adore, i'm hoping to continue these; we are well and truly blessed with enough writers here to keep me going for a lifetime.

writing (mostly) individual recs for hprecfest was also absolutely glorious. i have so much to say about works that stick with me, and saying it all to get others to go delight in them was brilliantly fulfilling. the process made me write my own love letters to reccing & reccers & the light they are in fandom, which may be my own most cherished post. i don't always have the bandwidth to write or read new stuff, but showing love like this keeps me involved, immersed, and importantly, very happy.

i've read a lot this year & listing everything will unfortunately have us cataloguing the colours of the sky. instead, i'm going to make a list of what i consider my priority tbr of fics & authors, people & works i wanted to get around to this year, couldn't, want to gorge myself on soon.

@garagepaperback wrote 300k words in 9 works this year, and i need to read every one as soon as possible. their style demands savouring & i've saved up so much garagefic for when i have the time to do them justice. @eleadore writes such a deliciously abrasive, petulant drarry dynamic; i'm really, really looking forward to being in A Mood to cut my teeth on their diamonds. (additional shoutout to the remaining reads these two's pile with @yiiiiiiiikes25, reserved for when i need a good smut fix). i read @kamaela's got me started earlier in the year, fell in love with their sharp characters & sharper writing & now everything else they've written, but especially mirror, me is up, up there in needing to be read asap. everything i've read by @sleepstxtic has been fantastic, fantastic, but rush was especially spectacular & i am foaming at the mouth to get to the other two sports fics in the series.

@dodgerkedavra's clear, warm light looks absolutely epic, can't wait to sink my teeth into it (and everything else from dodger's catalogue i haven't read yet). @epitomereally's LA, who am i to love you? has some fantastic tags, a fascinating summary & been on my mfl for an age. this is also maybe-perhaps-potentially the year to work through @mintawasalreadytaken's tit for tat which sits at almost 400k & promises my favourite things (angst & porn), but even if not, it is the year to read the rest of minta's catalogue that i haven't gotten to yet.

& finally, i'm bad at wips, but i'm so very, very excited for @tackytigerfic's first watch of night to finish posting so i can swim around in it.

this is a v small sampling of everything i hope to read this year, i've left out so many wonderful, wonderful authors whom i will end up loving. the goal is to read slower, read steadier, take my time with craft & phrasing, work through catalogues i admire & leave myself space to appreciate with care & specificity.

in the other life of odds and ends and grad school and employment, it was a weird year, kind of a— nothing year? scales weren't tipped too far in either direction, which is different, which demands recalibration, which has left me time & energy in measures i usually don't have. dawn has broken over this fresh swivel around the sun and i'm allowing myself some slivers of tentative, brittle hope. it's new, and i'm putting stock in that being a good thing.

paging everyone i've mentioned above to tell me what you're hoping to do more of in 2025 (fandom/otherwise) if you'd like! cheerleading all of you from here <3

[jeankluv]

Birdie | Satoru Gojo - Chapter 04

Words: 4,9k

Summary: You didn’t like him, at all. But due to your bad luck you would have to be forced to work with him and different circumstances end up leading you to the fact that perhaps the word dislike is not the one you use to describe him.

Warnings this chapter: mentions of wounds

ac: _3aem

Tags: modern au, college au, fem!reader, academic rivals, he fell first, fluff, old money Gojo Satoru, abusive parents, slight slow burn, Satoru is a softy, secondary couple (Geto Suguru x oc), a bit of angst, no use of y/n, eventual smut, Gojo plays basketball

Authors notes: I was going to post this one during the weekend but I felt like posting before. I want to thank everyone leaving lovely messages and likes on each of the chapters, this motivates me so much to keep writing this story. Thank you.

Materialist | previous chapter | next chapter

Links to the fic on: wattpad | ao3

You were sitting on the floor of your apartment as you put things into boxes and waited for Gojo to arrive. After meeting him in the cafeteria and having insisted on coming and that he would show you even if he had to help with all the moving, you haven't seen him again. He hadn't even shown up in class, which was extremely rare. If your memory didn't fail you, Gojo had never missed a class.

Kyoko had told you that Suguru had told her something about family matters, so you didn't give any more importance to the fact that he wasn't going to show up to class for sometime.

The address wasn't complicated enough to take so long, and on top of that he could have sent you a message or something, so you wouldn't have to wait an hour or so.

You only wished he was not going to leave you waiting for him all day. Or else…

The doorbell rang suddenly, making you jump on your seat. You got up and walked to open the door.

He was finally here.

"Finally you're here." You said opening the door. "I already thought this was a bad joke or…" Your face dropped. "Gojo! What happened?!"

His face was purple and he had some wounds with the scab already coming off. Your heart was beating a mile an hour. Had they attacked him coming here? A thief? No, the wounds didn't seem recent.

"Oh birdie you're worried about me?" A smirk formed on his face.

"Don't joke in a situation like that asshole!" You reprimanded him. "Of course I'm worried if someone appears all wounded in my front door."

Turning on your heel you headed to the sink, you knew the house had a first aid kit, maybe you could treat him with some of it.

"Birdie…” He muttered approaching you. "It's okay, they are old."

"You got into a fight?" You left the first aid kit back on it's place. "I never pictured you like those kind of boys."

"A bad boy?" A smirk appeared on his lips.

"No. An asswhole who would get on a fight and would end up all wounded.”

He looked at you and then smiled. "Should we start?" He turned around and walked around the tiny apartment.

"Yeah. I brought my notebook and everything the professor gave us." You said taking everything out of your bag. "This is not the best place to study… but since you insisted so much, we will have to deal with these boxes and everything around us."

"You used to live here?" He sat down on the bed. "It's…"

"Tiny? I know but it was the best I could get when I got here." You sat next to him.

He nodded and grabbed one of your notebooks from your hands. "Your parents don't live in…"

"I don't have parents." You cut him off. You didn't want to talk about the matter and hoped that Gojo would catch it with the cold tone you used.

Gojo cleared his throat and murmured a sorry, before turning to face you.

Placing the notebook between the two of you, he spoke. "So…" He looked at the notebook. "What's exactly what you don't understand?"

You thought for a moment. "I guess the problems." You pointed them out. "I understand most of the formulas but when it comes to start resolving the problem I find it confusing and ended up taking data that is not, or so I think." You mumbled the last part.

"It's true that the way professor Tanaka redacts her problems are a bit confusing, but once you realize how she redacts them you will see that they are always the same." He pointed out. "If you know the equations it shouldn't be difficult for you." He looked at you. "Let's start with this one, try to solve it and I will also do the same and see where you fail okay?" You shook your head and Gojo smiled, grabbing a pen from your desk and a piece of paper to start on with the problem.

Minutes started to pass and you were embarrassed, you didn't want to look at Gojo because you knew he finished the problem long ago but here you were looking at the result you obtained knowing that it was impossible to get to that conclusion.

You had been competing against Gojo these last few years to be the best academically and you had never managed to surpass him and now you were embarrassed because a stupid subject had stuck and you were unable to advance.

You dropped your head forward, it already hurt and it was only the first problem.

"Bridie…" You heard Gojo spoke. "You need help with the problem?"

You nodded without looking up and you could see how his hand took your notebook and turned it a little so he could see what you had done. He would probably think you were an idiot and laugh at you.

"Let's do it together, okay?" You nodded again.

What expression would he have at that moment? Was he holding back his laugh? You wanted to look up but you were too embarrassed.

"Let me sit next to you." You could feel how he moved and stood next to you. "This way we can both read the statement." You murmured okay and then he started to explain. "Well, what I usually do is point out the important aspects of the problem." He pointed to the information. "And then write them down on the sheet, so you have a global idea of everything."

He began to write everything down and write down the names of what each thing was. It was true that that way you could see everything more clearly.

"If in the problem can be done, I usually make a drawing."

"I used to do that in chemistry." You said.

"Yeah me too." He responded. "That way it was easier to know what quantities each mixture needed." You nodded. "Well, it's similar here, that way you get an idea of what you're looking for." He finished drawing and showed it to you. "Do you see it clearer that way?" He said, turning the page and showing it to you.

You definitely did and now things made sense, not like before. You nodded and Gojo handed you the paper so you could do the problem. You started doing it, now everything was easier.

"I will be back in a minute." He stood up and exited for a moment.

You saw him leave and you paid your attention back to the problem again, this time you would get it and if you used what Gojo had taught you again you could solve the rest of the problems without help.

You felt like a weight was lifted from your shoulders being able to master this. Passing all the subjects meant that you would continue to qualify for the scholarship so you could continue studying, but if you failed in any of them, the scholarship would disappear and your dream of continuing with your degree and graduating would also disappear.

You smiled when you checked the result, it was correct. You had done it. You looked at the door where Gojo had left and when you saw that he did not return, you got to work on the rest of the problems using the method that Gojo had taught you. Underline, write down, draw (if possible).

Underline, write down, draw (if possible).

Underline, write down, draw (if possible).

You don't know how much time had passed when Gojo returned, but you had managed to solve 5 problems on your own.

"Birdie, I went and buy…"

"I solved them!" You showed him. "I did it!"

Gojo looked at you and then at the page. "You did it. Good job birdie." He smiled. "That's because I am an excellent teacher."

You laughed and rolled your eyes. "Actually it's because I'm an excellent student."

"Sure…" He looked around. "I think our lesson for today it's over."

"What? You almost did nothing."

"I helped you understand how to solve the problems!" He replied.

"And? What a shitty teacher you are." You crossed your arms and sat on the bed.

"You mad at me birdie?" He sat next to you. "Come on, I bought you snacks." He moved the bag in the air.

"Snacks?" You looked and tried to grab the bag.

"No, no, no." He shook his head with a playful smirk drawn on his face. "First you need to admit I'm an excellent teacher."

You huffed, brushing a strand of your hair out of front of you. "Okay, you're the best tutor I've ever had." Gojo smiled and handed you the bag.

"Hey, have you had any other private tutors?" He looked at you while you rummaged through the bag and grabbed one of the snacks.

"No." You smiled while eating a piece of the snack.

Gojo laughed. "So obviously I'm the best."

"Of course, there hasn't been any other." You shrugged.

"Now." He stood up from the bed. "How should I help you here?" He looked around.

"You are going to help me?" You looked at him swallowing the piece you just ate.

"Sure. And don't say there is no need."

"Hmm." You thought, he was taller and stronger than you. "Could you bring me down the things that are in the top of the closet? Most of them are winter clothes or old things, but I barely get there and they are quite heavy." Gojo looked where you were pointing and nodded. "Thank you."

"We can have another tutoring session through the week." Gojo said. "We have the same free hours, so… if you want."

"Yeah, okay." You nodded. "I still have some doubts on another aspect of the subject, maybe you can help me."

"Of course I can, I'm the best."

"You're the best." You said at the same time, rolling your eyes. "Again thank you Gojo, for… helping me, I guess." The words had cost you, but they were finally out.

"Birdie." You looked up at him and he was shaking his head. "I should be the one thanking you."

You tilted your head to the side, what did that mean? "Why?"

"I guess for giving me a chance or something like that?" He left one of the bags he had taken on the floor. "I know you don't like me, I don't know why, really, but I'm glad they put us in that job together." He smiled at you. "It will be the last time you have to put up with me."

What did he mean with that last sentence? Gojo climbed back onto the chair and continued taking out the bags without saying a single word again. You also did your thing, keeping things in a box and leaving everything as if no one had ever lived in that apartment. But you couldn't get that phrase out of your head, next year you would share even more classes, in the end you were studying the same branch, why did he said that as if he wasn't going to come back?

You looked around at the boxes, not many, but full of what you had brought from your grandmother's house and what you had been buying and acquiring these last two years, nearly three years. It was at times like this where you missed having your grandmother with you or having been able to have your mother next to you and that she would have been there to see you grow.

You hoped that they were both looking down on you and feeling proud of what you were slowly achieving.

The ringing of a phone snapped you out of your momentary trance. You grabbed your phone to see that it wasn't yours, it was Gojo's, who was leaning face down on your old bed.

"Hmm, Gojo." You called him, he was still taking care of winter clothes you told him to. He looked at you and you pointed to his phone. "Someone is calling."

"Can you check who it is?" You nodded and grabbed it.

"It says… mother." You didn't know if it was your feeling or what, but you could swear that Gojo tensed up the moment you said the word mother.

"Hang up and put the phone on silent please." You nodded without asking questions, you didn't want to get involved in matters that weren't yours.

You felt a pinch in your heart as you thought about the tone Gojo had used. He didn't seem to get along with his mother, or maybe they were just angry about something. You've heard rumors about the Gojo clan, who hasn't? The entire university had heard them. Satoru Gojo was the only son and grandson, which made him the heir. An extremely rich heir.

The Gojo clan had dedicated more than three generations to their law firm and had gained incredible fame, positioning them in the upper class of Japan. From what you understood, Gojo's great-grandfather had been the one who started the business, in the 1930s he traveled with his wife to the United States where he started from scratch and managed to make his way and by the 1960s he was already a truly known man, and returned to Japan where he earned the respect of the upper classes. His son inherited the business after the death of him and later Gojo's father and now it would be Satoru Gojo's turn. But he had decided to take another alternative and ignore the wishes of his family.

When you had your first encounter with Satoru Gojo, the first day, when he dumped you and didn't even look at you, you thought he was a brat and later that day you learned who he was. The rich boy from the Gojo clan.

When you started classes you thought he was there for his parents' money, you never saw him doing anything and you knew from the voices in the hallways that he went from party to party every weekend. They said that he never slept with the same girl, he had seemed like a textbook fuckboy to you.

That is why you were distrustful and so extremely curt with him. You couldn't trust him, but the bastard made it really difficult. You had gotten to know him a little and something inside you had softened, even if you wanted to ignore it.

You shook your head. You could stop thinking about it. Once the work was finished everything would be over, yes that's. Everything would end, but why did that make you feel sad?

"In the clouds again, birdie?" Breath hit your ear causing you to stir.

"Fuck Gojo!" You turned to look at him covering your ear. You hadn't heard him come down from where he was.

He smiled showing his teeth. "I'm done. What do you want me to do now?" You looked around thinking. "I can help you with your underwear if you want." He smiled sideways. The colors of your face were probably at their peak. You wanted to kill him for teasing you like that.

"Gojo, you want to die?" He laughed.

"I was kidding birdie. But c'mon what can I do for you?" Fuck, there it was that look again and you heart beating loudly on your chest.

"Put the kitchen utensils in the boxes." You pointed your finger at the boxes on the dining room table.

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･''･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

A couple of hours had passed since Gojo's arrival at your former apartment, the sun was now setting. The apartment appeared nearly untouched, as if no one had lived in before. You wiped your forehead with a tissue and glanced at Gojo, who was diligently packing items into boxes.

There had been little conversation between you two; in fact, Gojo had hardly uttered a word since you mentioned his mother's phone call. He hadn't even agreed to take a break, indicating his determination to assist you in getting everything sorted as quickly as possible.

Sitting on the bed, you idly swung your feet in the air, waiting for Gojo to finish packing the last of the items he held. If someone were to walk in at that moment, they might assume something entirely different. I mean, who would come to assist a mere "classmate" in cleaning up their old apartment? Hardly anyone, right? That's what made Gojo's actions so puzzling. Why did he choose to help? Did he have hidden motives, or was it simply an act of goodwill? You couldn't say for sure, and part of you hesitated to even ask and find out.

"All done." Gojo spoke putting both hands on his waist and showing his smile. He really had a perfect smile.

"Good." You stood up. "Thank you."

"You're welcome birdie." He said patting your head.

You moved his hand. "I'm not a dog for you to do that to me." You said upset.

"Alright."

He walked past you with a smile and grabbed his cell phone that was still on the bed. The smile disappeared when he looked at the screen. Had something happened? Gojo looked really distraught. You had to do something, right?

"Gojo are you…?" You started to talk.

"I need to make a call, I will be right back." And he existed the apartment leaving you alone.

You turned around on your own feet and sat back down on the bed. Was he alright? Should you ask him?

"What would Kyoko do in a situation like this?" You whispered to yourself.

Probably she would try to talk to him and comfort him. But for Kyoko was something natural for you, not at all, you didn't know how to handle feelings well, you weren't good with your own, not to mention the others. You grabbed your phone started playing with it, nervously trying to figure it what to do once Gojo was back.

You were so lost in your own thoughts that you didn't hear Gojo re-enter. You didn't notice his presence until you felt the mattress next to you sink, indicating that he had sat next to you. You had your back turned to him so you couldn't see his face. It was then when you felt his arm grab you from behind, making you shiver at that sensation. What the fuck was he doing?

"Gojo, what…?"

Gojo cut you off before finishing the question. "Just stay like this." He hid his face in the crook of your exposed neck. And he muttered against your skin. "Please…"

You remained silent, offering no protest or words. It was the first time you witnessed Gojo in such a vulnerable state. Resting your chin on your hand, you gazed at the white wall of your old room. The room echoed only with your faint breaths, mingled with the distant sounds of the bustling street.

Feeling moisture on your shoulder, you realized Gojo was crying as he held onto you. Uncertain of how to respond, you grappled with the dilemma â€" should you ask him, step away, or maintain a silent pretense? Opting for the cowardly choice, you remained silent, pretending it wasn't unfolding.

After a few minutes, Gojo released his grip, audibly sniffing. Without turning around, you rose from your position and headed to the kitchen. It was nearly 11 pm, and you needed to return to Kyoko's house. Fortunately, you managed to organize and clean everything, making it easier for you to retrieve your belongings later.

"I…" You swallowed. "I think it's time to go." You still didn't turn around, he probably didn't want you to see him in that state.

"Yeah…" He whispered and you heard him moving from his place.

Your heart was pounding in your chest. You were afraid that with the silence that was there, Gojo would hear it. You felt his presence behind you. Shit, you should have asked him how he was feeling? Something?

"Take your things, I will take you home." He said passing next to you and exiting the apartment.

Taking a deep breath, you pondered the recent emotional outburst. How should you respond to this unexpected side of Gojo? His tears left you perplexed, and the tired, sorrowful tone in his voice during the call lingered in your thoughts. It struck a chord, reminiscent of your own moments of vulnerability with your grandmother.

Despite your usual disdain for Gojo, you found a desire to comfort and uplift him. You wished for the return of the annoying yet smiling Gojo, even if most of the time, you wanted to strangle him.

Heading to the apartment's desk, you gathered bags containing items for Kyoko's house, leaving the rest for donation. Struggling with the weight, you loaded your backpack and carried multiple bags on each side. Now, burdened with a load twice as heavy, you realized you genuinely needed Gojo's help. Stumbling out of the apartment, you navigated the challenge of your hefty cargo.

"Sorry." You noticed how your left shoulder lightened. "I was so deep in thought that I didn't notice the bags you wanted to carry." Gojo had taken all the bags in your hands without any effort. It wasn't surprising, after all he was the star of the basketball team.

"It's okay…" You followed him. "I was handling it just right."

"It don't look like that." He smirked.

Oh he was back. And you were happy.

"For real." You replied.

"For someone that has a black belt in taekwondo, you are actually pretty weak birdie." Now he was mocking you.

"Did Kyoko tell you that?" He nodded. "Well let me tell you I have pretty strong legs."

"I would love to see that." He said with a smirk, leaving the bags in the car.

Your cheeks turned, you knew he was saying it with other intentions. "Gojo, don't you dare. Or I'm going to kick your ass for real." You slammed the backpack against his chest causing a whimper to leave his lips.

"Alright bridie, but be careful with me. I'm a delicate guy." He pouted.

Rolling your eyes, you settled into the passenger seat, and Gojo started the car. As you directed him to Kyoko's home, a comfortable silence enveloped the car, only disrupted by the radio's music. Despite the lack of conversation, it didn't feel awkward.

The recent emotional episode played on a loop in your mind. The urge to ask if he was okay lingered, but uncertainty held you back. Sneaking glances at him from the corner of your eyes, you couldn't deny his attractive profile. Everything about him seemed perfect, explaining why everyone seemed captivated by him.

"Eh…" You played with your fingertips. "Gojo." You heard him humming. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah!" It didn't sound genuine. "Don't worry."

You nodded, although you didn't trust his words. He wasn't telling you the truth but you didn't want to pressure him, so you let it be. You closed your eyes and you leaned back in the seat, leaving your mind blank and letting the dim street lights increase your sleep.

At some point you actually fell asleep because the next thing you remember is fingers leaving a strand behind your ear. You opened your eyes and rubbed them, it was already completely night outside.

"Was my car comfortable, bridie?" You nodded still sleepy. "So cute." You heard him softly laugh.

"Huh?" You snapped back and looked at him.

"Good morning or should I say good night?" He titled his head.

"I fell asleep?" He nodded. "Shit, sorry…"

"Don't worry, you looked cute with the drool falling." She teased you as she brought her hand up to touch your chin.

You hit his hand and turned your head to avoid his gaze, you felt like your cheeks were burning at that exact moment. "Gojo, you're an idiot."

He laughed and then cleared his throat. "Mhm… Next Friday we have…" He paused for a moment playing with his hands on the wheel. "We have a basketball game."

"Good luck." Although you knew they didn't need it after all Gojo was there and he was the star of the team, of course.

"I would like you to attend." That tone, was he nervous?

"Gojo, I have to work."

"Talk to Haibara I'm sure he won't mind. Or I will talk with him." You shook your head.

"No." You moved on your seat. "Gojo, tell me something." He hummed. "Why?"

"Why?"

"Yeah, why do you want me to go to the play?"

He fell silent, you could tell he was trying to find an answer. Was it that difficult to tell you why? "Just because?"

"Just because?" You repeated. "That's not an answer Gojo."

He sighed in defeat. "I would like you to be there." He looked at you. "So please come."

Now you were the one that stayed quiet. He wanted you there? Why? Was this a joke? So many questions were formulating in your head and you were feeling so weird about it.

"Birdie?" You came back when you heard his voice. "You ok…"

"I need to leave." Unbucking the seat belt and opening the door. "I'll see you tomorrow in class, right?" To which Gojo nodded. "Good! Then see you tomorrow and treat those wounds so they don't get worse." You got out of the car and turned one last time to say goodbye. "Good, see you! Bye!" And you can swear you ran grabbing all the things and trying not to fall in the front door.

You entered the house and dropped everything to the floor, making a big noise. You touched your forehead, did you have a fever again? No that was not it.

You heard your name and saw Kyoko's mom in front of you. "Honey, you are all red!" She approached you. "Are you sick again?" She said touching your face.

"It's okay, I just… everything was really heavy and I got tired." You looked at the bags.

"Did you bring everything on your own?" She said worried. "You should've called."

"No, no." You shook your head. "A friend helped me out."

"Oh okay honey." She smiled. "Kyoko still hasn't come back."

"Really?" You looked at her with surprise.

She left before you in the morning and was almost dinner. But that was a good thing, She must have been having a good time with Suguru.

"Do you know by any chance the guy she was meeting?"

"Yeah, he goes to the same college as us and it's our age." You smiled. "And don't worry, I think he is a really good guy."

"It's good to hear that. Let me help you with those bags." She took some of the bags and you did the same with the others.

As you unpacked your belongings, primarily clothes, you couldn't help but notice the stark contrast between your wardrobe and Kyoko's. While you leaned towards black attire, Kyoko embraced a more flirtatious style with bows and pastel colors. Despite these differences, your bond remained strong, understanding each other perfectly.

The sound of approaching footsteps and the creak of the door opening interrupted your thoughts, signaling someone's entrance into your room.

"Ah." Kyoko sighed. "I might be in love." She threw herself to your bed.

"Was it a good date?" You said, crossing your legs and looking at her.

"The best." She sighed again. "He was… ugh." She hid her face in your pillow. "He was so attentive, I had never had such a good date."

"Wow." You let out in surprise. "You are for real?" She nodded. "I'm so happy for you Kyoko. Suguru seems like a nice guy."

"Thank you." She smiled. "And how was yours?"

"My what?"

"Your date."

"I didn't have a date, Gojo came to help me study."

"Okay, so your study date." You held a pillow and threw it to her. "Sorry. But did you study?"

"Yeah… He actually helped me a lot." You sighed.

You wanted to tell Kyoko about what happened with Gojo but you felt it was too private to go around telling other people.

"What's up with that sighed?" Kyoko questioned you.

"Nothing, just thinking." You bit your lip, Kyoko probably knew you were hiding something from her. You needed to bring up another topic. "Gojo asked me to go to his match."

Kyoko let out a gasp and crawled over to you so she was facing you. "Next week?" You nodded. "Suguru asked me too!" She grabbed your hands. "We have to go."

"I have to work that day."

"Talk to your coworker…" She put her puppy eyes.

"Don't use those eyes on me." You looked the other way. "But I might talk with him."

"Yay!" Kyoko screamed. "It will be so fun."

Kyoko stayed in your bedroom for the next couple of hours, both of you stayed talking about different things. She also told you more details of her date and so on. It was almost 2 a.m. when you laid down on your bed. You were going to be tired in your classes, but spending time with your best friend as if you were 14 was worth it.

You spent the night reflecting on the unexpected events of Gojo's vulnerability, the request to attend his basketball game, and the strange connection that seemed to be developing. As you drifted into sleep, you wondered about the complexity of relationships and the uncertainties that lay ahead.

Author’s note: fourth chapter done. Ngl the scene of Satoru back hugging birdie was inspired by the scene of Maomao and Jinshi from The Apothecary diaries. Also birdie is starting to be softer when it comes to Satoru, our girl has trust issues

- if you wanna get tagged, comment -

Tag list: @lavender-hvze, @crybabytoru, @sanriosatoru, @norvacaine, @sadmonke, @faetoraa , @hexipessimistic , @gojoful

[distressednoise]

First lines game

Rules: List the first lines of the last ten (10) stories you published. Look to see any patterns you notice youself and see if anyone else notices any. Then tag some friends. 

Thanks for the tag, @colleybri! I don't think I actually have 10 non-orphaned fics on AO3 because I wrote a tonne on LJ back in the 2000s, never moved it over and transitioned seamlessly to sending people snippets in the group chat and never finishing anything. HOWEVER here is what I haven't orphaned.

I came back just the same (Andor, Brassian)

When he was a boy, Brasso thought his mother knew everyone in the world. 

Back when I was 20 and wrote a lot of fic I had this very ingrained idea that your first line should automatically serve as your fic summary, like if you wouldn't use it as a summary it wasn't strong enough for a first line? Which is wrong but explains why I now work in marketing. Starting with a look into Brasso's family background actually represents ~growth here.

Turn you in and sit you down (Andor, Brassian)

Sometimes Cassian is amazed by the number of things he used to want.

This was the first fic I'd written in literal years and as this is very much the kind of first line/fic summary double dutch line 19 year old me always went for. Still young! Still got it!

A burglar's guide to the city (Guardian, Ye Zun/Zhao Yunlan)

It was the size of the place that made Ye Zun pause. 

This is a very stream of consciousness piece and I wanted to start off with something banal but definitely in the POV; also I am bad at tense slipping so I like a strong tense statement to refer back to when I inevitably confuse myself.

And the sky shrugged off her stars (Star Trek AOS, mostly gen?)

All McCoy knows is, it happened before Kehli.

To be honest I remember being quite proud of this when I wrote it in, uh, 2009, and I don't want to look back at it and find out if it's terrible so I'm just not. That is a sentence. It was the first one. Well done that sentence.

The Hamlet Effect (Hamlet/Torchwood crossover, major pairing bedhopping)

Everyone knew the rift took things. 

I...was not really in either of these fandoms properly when I was assigned this combo in a fic exchange and I think I managed to find a fun tone that fit them and allowed me to take the story in a circuitous route to my own thing and back to the themes of canon. For such a basic first sentence the fic does quickly get VERY squirrelly - I remember getting recs that were like "YOU WILL NOT UNDERSTAND THE FIRST THIRD, STAY WITH IT", and I like to think the simple opening paragraph helps a little.

Still the new world (Merlin, Merlin/Arthur)

The world is young, and Merlin within it, so when he sees the girl floating face-down in the canal he kicks off his shoes without thinking, shrugs off his jacket and leaps in, kicking through reeds and debris until his fingers close on the sodden fabric of her coat. 

When I wasn't writing first lines that predicted my future in marketing, I liked to do a very tonally serious first line leading into a very flippant joke. These days it's 100% pretentious run-on sentence but back in the day it was 50/50 pretentiousness/gags. Maybe Andor S2 will be a joyful romp and the ability to joke will return to me. Maybe?

The battle of Tulgey Wood (Merlin, gen)

“I’m not doing this anymore,” Merlin announced as he wrangled off his armour.

I have a very clear memory of writing this directly into the post box of my blog at the time, which means you can't read anything into it OR it's incredibly diagnostic, take your pic.

Tagging @programmedradly because I think two of these fandoms were actually their fault; @dixie12 @towez @nebulein and anyone else out there who hasn't done this already

[talaok]

I've dreamed of this | Pt. IX

Summary: You are a part of the BAU, and for the longest time you and Dr. Spencer Reid had been best of friends, even when it was clear to everyone else, and at times to you, that you should be more than that, and when something almost happens on a night out with the team, everything is destined to change.

This is a double pov story (each chapter will be alternated between y/n's and spencer's pov)

Chapter summary: Penelope calls you, and causes a chain reaction

warnings: angst (please don’t be mad at me)

<if you want to be added to the tag-list comment or write to me>

previous part | next part

*I'm really sorry for the long wait*

y/n

even his couch felt more comfortable than your own.

It was like you were meant to be here, it felt, like you were meant to be here.

The moment you woke up this morning, your head against his chest, and his sweet amber eyes looking down at you, the only question scratching your mind was why? Why have I waited this long for something I now see, was everything I've always wanted, if not needed?

It didn't make sense,

but then again, it did.

He had told you not to move, begged you even, to promise you wouldn't leave, and you didn't know how to tell him that that wasn't even a possibility you had weighed.

He had, unwillingly, left for work, and left you in his sunny apartment, feeling at home in one that was not your own.

You had been here before, dinners with the team, crashing at his place, movie nights where he either spent the whole time translating the film, or complaining about the improbability portrayed in the ones you chose.

You had been here, sure, but never like this,

now, it was as if you were looking at a whole new flat, a whole new world, one where things did, work out, and where his dark green walls maybe weren't so bad after all.

You had this feeling in your chest you couldn't describe as you smiled brainlessly at the off tv, relieving every second of the past 12 hours.

"I'd be lying if I said I didn't want this- a lot, for a very long time"

"I don't think I've ever meant anything more"

"would you just please let me kiss you?"

" I could too"

"I like you y/n, I've liked you for a very long time, In a way, I had never had before, and I know this isn't ideal, that there are a lot of things we should consider and talk about, and I'm willing to do that, but I just thought you should know"

"I like you, and I'm serious about this"

All of it in your brain, a constant background above the silence around you.

it felt like a dream,

this couldn't be real,

right?

You had spent so much time fighting it, rationalizing all of it, your feelings for him, the way your heart would melt every time he blushed or smiled, and now there you were.

It all felt surreal.

This wasn't supposed to happen,

This was the forbidden fruit in the garden of Eden,

and still,

you had taken a bite of the apple,

and nothing had happened,

not yet anyway.

Ring Ring

Your phone was ringing.

"Hello?" you hadn't even looked at the caller ID

"hi gorgeous, how's it going?" You recognized Penelope's voice.

You smiled at that "great" you said "it's going great"

"Really? Emily said she talked to you yesterday and you seemed down"

"Oh yes" you recalled "well, everything is better now"

"Really?"

"yes, really Pen" you smiled at her thoughtfulness,

"So did you find some things to do?"

You had to hide a laugh "Yes-yes I definitely did"

"Cool like what?"

fuck

it wasn't like you could tell her the truth.

oh yeah, so I basically got into a relationship that I'd been avoiding for years with Spencer, our coworker.

That didn't seem like it would work out

"I- I started watching- " you looked around frantically, and your eyes spotted a book "I started watching the lord of the rings"

"the whole saga?" she asked, shocked

"yes, it's been keeping me occupied"

"Spencer's gonna be happy about that" she scoffed amusedly.

Your cheeks flushed just at the mention of his name "Speaking of which" she said, and you could hear the smirk on her lips "Wonderboy arrived late today" she snickered "word on the street is he's got a girlfriend"

"What?" the words fled your mouth before you could stop them

How was it possible they already knew?

Yes, they were profilers, but no profiler was that good.

"Yes, let's just say he must have forgotten about some marks the lucky lady left on his neck"

Shit

Shit shit shit

"oh" you could only breathe

"not to mention how distracted he is " she chuckled softly "he hasn't even done his crossword this morning" she whispered as if it was some sort of profanity,

which, of course, it kind of was,

Spencer never missed a day, the whole team knew it.

You didn't know what to say, and so you stayed silent.

You could feel Penelope's attitude shift "Shoot- listen I know you two were kind of... I don't know- something-" she trailed off "but maybe this is better you know, with the whole Hotch thing and you being friends"

"I mean it's not like a woman like you doesn't have a line of men waiting for her"

"We weren't- anything" you clarified

"Sorry, I probably shouldn't have told you" you could hear the sadness creeping up her voice.

"It's fine, Pen, I'm-I'm happy for him"

"alright," she said, even though both of you knew she was still mortified "well anyway I and the gals thought we could come by this afternoon to keep you company"

Oh fuck

they couldn't come by, you weren't even there.

"oh no don't do that"

really y/n? that's the best you could come up with?

"why?" Penelope asked

C'mon think of something

"I just- I'm feeling a bit sick"

"oh" she hummed "I'm sorry," she said, " why didn't you say anything before?"

"I just didn't want you to worry"

"I'm- I'm not " she lied plainly "I could make you some soup you know? I could bring it to you. Yes, you know what, I'm gonna get off work earlier and get started on it-"

"Wait Pen"

"yes?" she stopped her rambling, and it surprised you she still had air left in her lungs.

"I think it's best if I just rest a bit y'know?"

"Sure" she smiled, but you could tell she was disappointed and worried altogether "I understand"

"thank Pen, say hi to the team for me"

"of course" she nodded "take care of yourself"

"will do" you joked "bye now"

"bye"

You stared at the colorless reflection looking back at you from the black screen,

Your smile had faded,

The feeling in your belly had mutated,

more bitter now, the warmth slowly dissipating against the cold breeze.

You should have been happy right?

You had gotten away with it,

both of you had,

Yes, the team thought Spencer had a girlfriend, but they had no idea it was you.

And you were able to convince Penelope not to come by your house.

Everything went perfectly,

so why did you feel like this?

like a puff had just caused the unsteady house of cards to fall to the ground.

You had everything you wanted,

you had him,

you had you, together.

this wasn't how it was supposed to be,

you should be feeling ecstatic,

happy,

on fucking cloud nine,

but it was as if you had to woken up from the dream, from the fable, and reality was starting to hit.

You had lied to her,

to Penelope,

one of your best friends, a person who knew everything about you, a person who'd seen you cry and laugh and puke more times than you'd like to admit.

You had to lie

Make up a bunch of things and lie to her face like it was normal, like nothing was wrong with that.

But so much was wrong with it,

And not only because it made you feel dirty, and shitty, no, but because she didn't deserve it.

She would never do it to you, you knew.

And still, you hadn't even hesitated before doing it to her.

And as much as you liked to think that it was necessary, and that it wasn't gonna be forever, you had no real guarantee that that was the truth

You had never really thought about it,

and apparently, all it took was a phone call for the pandora's box lid to fly off, and your mind was now flooding with doubts and fear, and second thoughts.

When were you gonna be able to tell people?

never, was the only answer you could think of,

You weren't allowed to date,

because of Hotch's rule,

And it's not like you could have told everyone but him, that seemed practically impossible.

So that was it, either one of you left the BAU or you would have to keep it a secret forever, continuing to lie every single day.

The thought of it terrified you,

And with it, millions more started clouding your mind.

__ __ __

"hello"

you had been crying

"hi" you smiled weakly from the couch

He threw his sachel on a chair and walked up to you immediately, bending to meet his lips with yours.

It felt good, too good.

"I've missed you" he sat next to you, a big smile on his face "I couldn't wait to get home" he confessed shily "I don't think anybody suspects anything though, so we're in the clear" he moved a lock of hair behind your ear, and his brows furrowed "what's wrong?"

You didn't know where to begin,

a tsunami of emotions was going off inside of you, and you had no idea how to get them out.

"Penelope called" you finally said

"ok" you could tell he was confused "that's good right?"

yes, Spencer, that's supposed to be good.

God, you felt like you were going crazy.

"I lied to her"

"what do you mean?"

"she said she wanted to come to my house, and I said I was sick"

"Oh" he breathed "that's-that's ok, I mean that's like a - white lie"

You could only look at him, tears threatening to spill out of your eyes.

"And you know, you could have gone back home, that would have b-"

"that's not the point Spencer" your voice broke " I lied to her, and- and I'm gonna have to keep doing it"

"what? no that's not true" he placed a hand on your thigh, trying to reassure you.

"We can't tell anyone Spence you know it"

"Well I mean we could tell her, just not Hotch"

"and how that gonna work?" you asked way too harshly.

"I'm sorry I just- there's a lot of things we haven't thought of"

"I know y/n I know" he stoaked your cheek "but we can work it out"

Oh, you so wanted to give in, to tell him that yes, maybe you could and that he was right, but you knew that wasn't the truth, as much as it pained you to say it, he was wrong.

"How?" you said "We're gonna get fired if Hotch finds out, and unless one of us wants to leave the team we're gonna have to keep it a secret," you explained with a weak voice "and I don't know-" you couldn't believe you were about to say it "I don't know if I can do it, Spencer"

It was like you had just punched him in the face,

his eyes went blank, as his smile disappeared.

"I'm sorry" you cried "I'm so sorry Spence this is all my fault I should have never come here, please- i'm so sorry" you reached for his hand.

"y/n-" he tried to talk but you interrupted him

"no, please don't try to change my mind" you begged "It's- It's not only Hotch, Spence" you confessed

"You're my friend," you said "before this, before everything you're my friend Spence, and- and you mean everything to me, y'know" you sighed "and if- if this doesn't work out I don't wanna lose you, I can't, I can't lose you, I don't think I could do it without you"

"And I know this is gonna mess things up for a bit but I hope we could still be friends because I need that Spence, I need you as I friend, and I'm scared that if we do this, like really do this, and learn we've made a mistake, then I'm gonna lose you forever, and I can't let that happen"

You hadn't noticed the tears fleeing your eyes, because your sight was fixated on him, his mouth slightly parted, his eyes still in shock.

"I-" he swallowed thickly, his eyes scanning your face "You're never gonna lose me y/n" he said "we can work this out"

"This can't be how this ends"

"I'm sorry" was all you could say

"Y/n the moment I met you, the moment you smiled and introduced yourself, I knew I wanted this, the first time I saw you laugh I thought I was gonna have a heart attack y/n, I-I- I spent the last four years of my life stealing glances at you, and planning things to do or say to make you happy." he breathed "you can't do this y/n, not now"

"I'm sorry" your lip was trembling

"please forgive me Spence but I think it's best if I go" you got up and quickly grabbed your purse just to dash to the door,

but he followed

"y/n" you turned, and he was just there, inches from you, just like that night at the bar "y/n, I lov-"

"no, don't" you covered his mouth, a sob creeping up your throat "please don't"

You let your hand fall, taking a step to be flush against him, your mouth ghosting his "this is for the best" you breathed, hopeless "I can't lose you Spence" you kissed him, fully, desperately, like it was the last time you were ever gonna do it, because, of course, it was "please understand"

you whispered,

and without looking back,

you were out of his apartment.

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[ceruleanmusings]

No Idea; 1: Miscalculation

Summary - After getting called out for his past actions, James vows to change his ways and prove to Mickey that he can be her friend. (James x OC)

Contains: entitlement, mentioned harassment, deconstructing misogynistic outlooks

a/n: i can't promise all my updates will be speedy but i have been thinking about this a lot so i already have a lot of it mentally planned. it's just the writing part i need to do. and this exists because i have a deeeeep frustration with how james was treated in the show and how he never got proper character development (yes i say this a lot but i'm not joking when i say the frustration is deep!) so this is one way i'm working to fix it and, hopefully, change people's ideas of james. also this is set in season two and if i had to place it anywhere it'd be between BTGirlfriends and BTLive (though that's not super important.)

Tags: @witchofinterest @myloveforhergoeson @partiallypearl @raging-violets

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

“And she has no idea, no idea, that I’m even here, I’m even here. She has no idea, no idea, I’m standing—no, wait—I’m lying here, I’m lying heeerrreee…”

The orange vinyl stuck to James’ face and probably wasn’t doing good things to his skin. He was too heartbroken to care. It was supposed to work this time. He had it all planned! New haircut—check.

New clothes to go with new haircut—check!

The perfect date idea—check!

The perfect opening to ask Mickey on a date—check!

It all lined up! It was all perfect!

How did it go wrong?

He ran his tongue along his teeth, even though he knew they were free of any unsightly bit of spinach or poppyseed, still smooth to the touch. He would never run the risk of bad breath. C’mon, a world-famous singer with bad breath? No one would live that down. And he was James Diamond, everything was on point with him. But she still said no! How was that possible?

“Are you okay, sweetie?”

James tilted his head, turning his view from shiny orange plastic to Mrs. Knight approaching with a laundry basket on her hip. “No,” he uttered. How could he be okay when the girl of his dreams shot him down? Again.

“What happened?” She sat and set the laundry basket on the table, pulling out one of Kendall’s shirts. Or was it Carlos’? They both tended to prefer off the rack sacks that hung off them. Logan, at least, leaned towards the collar shirts that fit him a little better. James had tailored clothes all the way.

Huffing a breath, James pushed himself upwards. The couch peeled away from his cheek. He rubbed the back of his hand against the line that formed and tucked himself into the corner of the couch. Crossing his arms, he flicked his head, moving his hair out his face. “I did what I always do. I asked Mickey out and she said no.”

“Is that all?”

He balked. Is that all? As if he’d said he dropped a toaster waffle on the ground or his that his fish sticks were soggy. How come no one ever understood the gravity of his life? Why did they always laugh at it? Okay, so, maybe it wasn’t a good idea to call the FBI over because he ran out of hairspray but it was a hair emergency! It was important! This is important!

“I don’t think you understand.” James cleared his throat and slowed his speech, “She. Said. No.”

“I heard you.” Mrs. Knight snapped another shirt in the air and, with a few quick folds, added it to the quick growing pile on the table. He almost asked her to separate his clothes from his buds’, but held his tongue. He wasn’t sure she’d take that too well. She got weird about things like that sometimes. “She’s said no to you before.” Rude. Hurtful. But…true. “What was different about this time?”

Wincing, he sucked air in between his teeth as the deep, throbbing ache came back; souring his stomach with that ugly feeling of shame he tried to ignore. He couldn’t exactly do that when Mickey’s face—twisted; anguished; red, wet eyes and all—came slamming back into his brain. He’d never seen her like that before.

He didn't know which was worse: seeing her so upset or being the reason she was so upset.

He twisted his fingers, spotting a hangnail. That had to go. “Well…it wasn’t exactly a no…” It wasn’t as short as a no. And it wasn’t as quiet as her usual no. It was louder. Much louder. And faster and more pointed than she’d ever turned him down before. And longer, definitely longer.

“What was it, exactly?”

Maybe it was the way Mama Knight looked at him, maybe it was the soft tone to her voice, maybe it was that she actually asked instead of brushing him aside. Either way, the cork was popped. There was no coming back now. “That’s what’s so weird.” He hopped off the couch, pacing, words spilling out of him. “I’ve asked her out a hundred and twenty-seven times”—yes, he’d been keeping track—“and she’d always say ‘I don’t think so’ or ‘I’ not sure that’s a good idea’ or ‘I’m busy’ or ‘I have to feed my ferret’—she actually does have a ferret.” Mama Knight made a silent ‘oh’ and nodded. It was a cute ferret. His name was Gizmo, she called him Pipsqueak or Pip for short. She absolutely loved him. He wished he knew how that felt. “Anyway! We’re hanging out in Studio A, just messing around after practice. The girls are packing up to head home and I figure, now that she’s alone, it’s the best time to ask her to the Griffith Observatory. So I do.

“And she says she’s not sure. So I try and sweeten the deal by reminding her that I’d pay for everything. And she says ‘I don’t know’. And I said what could be better than spending time with me? And she…well…” Sighing, James rubbed the back of his neck. The sour pitching of shame hit him again and, God, it was worse the second time around after everything happened. “She…kinda…yelled at me.”

“…Mickey yelled at you?”

“Yeah, I know. Surprising right?”

Mickey wasn’t just called ‘Mouse’ by her sisters because of the obvious name association but because she was just that quiet. In fact, the day they met by the Palm Woods pool, he couldn’t get a word out of her. And he pulled out all the stops.

The first time he’d heard her was her laugh at dinner that night. Kelly had invited them, Mama Knight, Katie, and Gustavo over for dinner so they could all get to know one another. They’d never met quadruplets before—really cute ones at that—so the questions were flying. She didn’t outwardly react, responding mostly with shrugs, faces, or waves of her hand. But then Carlos said something that made her laugh and—

Oh. My. God.

It was the most beautiful thing he’d ever heard in his life.

She first spoke a couple days later, some sarcastic comment about how they were stupid—which was fair—and none of them realized she’d said it at first until her sisters started cracking up. But the first time she’d said something to him? The first time she’d looked him in the eye, had his attention, and said, “You were meant to be here”?

His entire world stopped. Gustavo yelling at him for having “no talent” and being “the absolute worst” suddenly didn’t matter anymore. He was a goner. It was the best he’d ever felt in his life.

Mama Knight hummed and snapped another shirt. James frowned. What was he supposed to do with that? “Well, what did she say?”

Might as well get this over with. “She said for me to stop. To stop asking her out and to leave her alone. And why do I keep doing that to her? That she can’t take it anymore. And I was saying I didn’t realize she was serious and thought it was a joke or a game, our thing. Cause, you know, girls can be confusing, and I thought it was just how we were. And then she’s like ‘Why would you think that? We’re not friends. You don’t know me. You know nothing about me. Leave me alone.’ Which, I don’t know how I can do that when she plays in our band and she goes to school with us and they hang out here all the time. But now I’m here and I’m sad.”

He flopped onto the couch again, letting out a low moan, partially at having to recount something so uncomfortable and partially because it hurt all over again. Was this what embarrassment felt like? Her words echoed in her mind but it was the look on her face that hit him straight in the chest. He high-tailed it out of Rocque Records after that. He and the couch had become one ever since.

“I see.”

“What?” He didn’t meant to be so loud but…damn! She was being too cryptic for his liking. He needed answers! Popping back off the couch he demanded, “What do you see? ‘Cause I’m not seeing anything! And I don’t need glasses! I have perfect vision!” He pointed his fingers around his face, just missing poking himself in the eye.

“Well, sweetie, you have been coming on a bit strong.”

James crossed his arms. “Explain.”

With a few quick curls of her fingers, she paired and matched sock after sock. “Well, it’s…possible you’ve been making her uncomfortable with all the attention you’ve put on her.”

“What? No.” James scoffed. “Girls like that sort of thing.” She didn’t know what she was talking about. How long had it been since Mama Knight had a date? Right. She had no idea what dating was like now. It wasn’t the 80s.

“Not all of them,” she insisted.

That couldn’t be right. It always worked for him. It especially worked for his dad; he’d seen it with his own eyes.  He’d seen the videos of his old rock shows, the girls lining up just to catch a glimpse of him before and after a show. The way they held onto his every word at meet and greets or parties. The way they practically melted beneath the attention he gave them. It worked for him. That’s how he got his mom (so he says, his mom had a different story.) That’s how he got his second wife. It worked. He had the proof.

…Didn’t he?

“Why do you think it was different this time?” Mama Knight added.

“I don’t know!” He threw his arms in the air. They landed on his denim-clad thighs with a smack. “That’s the problem!”

“Just think about it. Based off her verbiage, she sounded distressed. And she said that you weren’t friends.”

“Yeah, that was the really weird part. Because we are.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “Are you?”

“Yeah.” He paused. Then, “I think so? I mean, we’re always hanging out.”

“In a group.”

“I mean, there’s enough of us so…” Even numbers between his buds and the Mason girls made it easier to play games or do homework or teaming up for playing pranks or bothering Gustavo. It made sense.

“Have you ever spent time with her alone?”

“I’ve been trying to, but she keeps saying no!”

“She’s saying no to going on a date with you.” She put a stack of folded denim into the basket. “What I’m asking is have you, James, ever spent time with her as a friend?”

“Well—”

“Have you ever asked her about her day? What she’s been reading? What movies she’d seen lately? What she’s interested in?”

“Yes! I definitely have!” Ha! Mama Knight couldn’t poke holes into that one.

“Have you ever asked her those things without the expectation it’ll lead you to a date?”

“Um—”

“Have you ever asked those things just because you wanted to know?”

“I—” That’s not where this was supposed to go. She was supposed to have all the answers. Not ask him a bunch of questions.

“Here’s the thing; girls can tell when all you want from them is a date or a kiss or something else. And you’ve made it clear that you’ve been chasing after that instead of trying to get to know her.”

James shook his head before she finished speaking. No no no, she didn’t get it! That wasn’t what he was doing at all! But something niggled in the back of his mind. But...but what if she was right? Any explanation that came to his mind died on arrival because none of it sounded right. Not anymore. Wouldn’t that be the point of a date? To get to know her?

“Let me ask you something.” He groaned. He couldn’t take anything else. “Why do you like her?”

…Huh?

What kind of question was that? Apparently, he’d asked it aloud because she followed it up with, “What do you like about her?”

His lips blew in a raspberry and answers collided in his mind. Where to start?

“I like how much she loves playing the bass and how she puts her all into it even when it’s just practice. You can tell she really cares about it.” When Mama Knight didn’t laugh or make any sort of reaction he cleared his throat and kept going. “I like how much thought she puts into making sure fans have a great experience at our shows. I like how when she’s talking to someone, they’re her entire focus, like they’re the only one in the room. She’s a great listener and very understanding. She has this way of making people who walk away from her feel special, but I don’t think she realizes it. I mean, yeah, it takes a bit for her to talk but you when she does you can tell she’s taken the time to think about the right thing to say and that it means something.”

He stopped and shrugged. He could go on, but the thoughts collided into one another into one unintelligible jumble. What wasn’t there to like? Something about her drew him to her since he first saw her but he couldn’t put his finger on what it was that lit him up inside. That made him want to be around her all the time. Maybe a word hadn’t been invented for it yet.

“Hmm.” That humming was starting to get on his nerves.

“What?”

“Most people, when asked that question, they say things about what the girl does for them. Or they focus on their looks or something physical.”

“I mean, yeah, she’s gorgeous and funny and sweet and she has cool hair and she’s gorgeous, but that part’s a bonus.” She stopped folding, staring at him hard. His skin prickled beneath the scrutiny of her gaze. Did all moms practice how to look at them like that? “Sooo…what do I do?” She had to have some sort of idea to fix this. She always did. Otherwise she’d just be torturing him with facing his actions? That’d just be cruel.

“Okay, I’m going to tell you a secret. It’s really big and but it’s guaranteed to win anyone over. Are you ready for it?”

“Yeah!”

Mama Knight placed her hands on her lap and leaned forward. “…Treat her like a person.”

James blinked, shook his head, and blinked again, his eager smile instantly dropping off his face. “….That’s it?”

“That’s it.” Pushing out a sigh, she reached out and stroked his cheek. He leaned into her touch. And so what if he was pouting a little? That wasn’t the answer he expected. “Honey, I don’t think you’re bothered that she turned you down, I think what really bothers you is that she says you’re not friends.” He was ready to rebuff but she continued. “But she’s right. You haven’t been treating her like a friend. Or like a person. It’s like a consolation prize to you, and having a real good friend shouldn’t be less than.”

But it kind of was wasn’t it? “Just friends” didn’t go on dates or dress up or look at each other in a certain way or kiss or hold hands or whatever else it was that Kendall and Jo used to do and Kendall and Jazz now did. He claimed they talk a lot which, okay, that didn’t sound particularly exciting. He could talk to anyone if that’s all they did. He was good at that.

But he didn’t want to be in the Friend Zone. That was filled with airport pickups and shopping trips and ex-boyfriend talks (not that Mickey had any that he knew of but he couldn’t risk that.) His nose scrunched up at the thought. Mama Knight gave him that look again and sighed.

“The Friend Zone doesn’t exist,” she said, as if she could read his mind. How did all moms have that ability, anyway? “Looks like we’re going to have to have that conversation again.” He rolled his eyes but fought off a huff. She nearly bit his head off the last time he mentioned the Friend Zone around her. He didn’t want a repeat of that, thank you very much. Besides, she was a girl. She wouldn’t get it. “If you like Mickey as much as you claim you do, then being her friend or her letting you into her life would be enough. Because if you’re only being her friend with the hopes to date her, then you’re not friends at all.”

He clicked his tongue. He’d never felt like this for someone before. It could have been one of her sisters he met by the pool that day instead of her and he knew, deep down, he wouldn’t have the same feelings. Something made it nearly impossible for him to get her out his head, made him want to be around her, made him want to impress her.

But was that enough?

“It is.” Well, he could fake it until it was. Or until he liked her less. If that were even possible.

“Great. All you have to do is let her know that.”

“How?”

“Words work but, in this case, I think actions would work better. Be there for her. Be her friend. Everything else will work out the way it’s supposed to.” Slapping her palms onto her knees, she got up with a long sigh. Placing her hands on her hips, her mouth twisted to the side. “You boys are focusing so much on having girlfriends, you’re missing out on having great girl friends. You’re young, you’re in a successful band, you have all the time in the world to get girlfriends. Don’t let good friends pass you by on the way.”

[fallenraffe]

One Dark Window by Rachel Gillig

<b>2.75 stars</b>

hmmm, it wasn't <i>bad</i> per se - tho it took some time to really get going and effort to wrap my head around some things - but it didn't live up to the hype

the writing.. wasn't bad just.. idk felt v matter of fact and void of emotion? wasn't really vibing with it tbqh

it took about 30% for things to really get going/really interest and hook me, and also for me to sorta wrap my head around this world, the characters and the magic/card system. it did progressively get better and the second half was def a step up, and that chalice/truth serum game scene was def one of the highlights of the book, both for the elspeth/ravyn bits and the elm/ione crumbs

I liked elspeth and ravyn well enough and you know what, they got some pretty nice couple-y moments that had me👀🥺 - but.. I just didn't really feel their rs and its progression of strangers to lovers, yeah they r hot, yeah they have some similar life experience, yeah they have the same goal and are united to reach it, but still, just, didn't really feel it, idk maybe it was the writing, maybe something else, its hard to put my finger on it. I'm on board with them and could appreciate them and their sweet/badass moments, but ig not as much as I had hoped I would? - not bad, but ain't as good as it could've been (could be the tag line of the book)

I knew elm and ione would be a thing in book 2, so I paid close attention and their interactions, and while few and smol they were so👀🥺😏 like their shared smirks at his bro's expense or the bit where hauth was using her and elm took her face in his hands then overpowered his bro to free her. I loved the elm/ione crumbs and was v much lookin forward to more in the next book

(I started last night, and they are already serving, tho ione is pretty hard to read ngl, but elm? with his secret crush on her, even from before gahhhhh)

big fan of venom and symbrock, so I'm always down for parasitic rs lmao - the nightmare and elspeth had an interesting thing going, tho honestly the big reveal of who it/he was was so easy to spot, the fact it took the poor girl 11 years to realise is💀

the card thing is interesting to be sure, but tbh the whole thing + the royal fam who's who was a bit hard to wrap my head around, I had to stop and look up a guide💀 it got a bit better once I found a cards summary of which card can do what and what's it cost + a list of characters and who they relate to, but still I shouldn't need to rely on some guide lines xd

and tbqh I still don't really get some of the card stuff.. like, I get that they are trying to unite the deck and break the Curse or whatever, and it's been pretty clear that there's only a certain number of cards and the whole deck makes 78, nothing more nothing less, but the way the story went gave the impression that there were several decks? which isn't the case, but that's how it came across? cos the king was looking to unite the deck, was looking for the twin addlers, which makes one think that he has most of the rest, but then our guys were also doing the same and said they only had a couple left, at the end they only needed the well and the twins.. but? the guards had their black horses and the royal fam had their red scythes and ione had a maiden, the king had the 2nd nightmare, other people were seen carrying around other colors? how? if team ravyn had <i>all, but the last 2</i> cards in their possession, hidden away then how come there were all those cards moving around and even if we assume they were planning on taking away the guards and royals cards that would still take time and maneuvering and those cards weren't in their possession yet, so it really don't add up for me - cos again, there's only one deck, but it felt like there were more cards floating around, unless team ravyn didn't actually have all the cards, but it was said that they did?! ion get it fam

also again the writing, honestly the action scenes and the elspeth/nightmare attacking scenes and just some stuff in general was sometimes a bit hard to follow

so yeah, interesting premise, great characters, some good rs moments, but the emosh development of it didn't really come across for me, the writing wasn't my fav and some magic/world building/cards related stuff just really was not clear - the potential was there, the execution could've been better

PS.: one more thing; for how close elspeth and ione were supposed to be and how ione was el's fav cousin you'd think she'd be more worried about her and more proactive to at least try to help her, even if they had an argument about ione wanting her to let her make her own choices and yeah I get that el had a lot on her plate and all, but whenever ione was present she tried her best to help elspeth out and their rs felt v one sided in that sense tbh (maybe it's my ione bias speaking, but that's just how I felt🤷🏻‍♀️)

(audiobook on 2x

narrator was 👍🏻

she has a nice voice and her narration was good, but I felt like she didn't really have the distinct character vices down. I recently listened to the Dark in You series and say what you want about that narration (particularly harper's bratty voice) when someone spoke I <i>knew</i> exactly who it was, each character had such a distinct voice - not here tho, there was a distinction between male/female sure, but there were times when say elspeth shouted but it was in a voice closer to ravyn's than her own idk it wasnt bad, but it could've been a bit better yano)

[touchoffleece]

Apologies in advance if this crosses over into too unsympathetic, since I feel I have to up the directness of my OG intent since the point of my OG post is getting pushed away from the conversations being had in replies.

I did not write the og post with the PSA attempt to cast forward a philosophical discussion about how language evolves, because I agree that things take on different meanings as we move along as a civilization. I wrote it as a call back to understand the position we were at, and the direction we are going. To understand where we want to go as we go forward we need to understand our past and/or our starting point. The main reason I chose to try and spread the og meaning of the phrase is that I ran into so many people trying to change the meaning of something that is meant to have context and thus has varying degrees of seriousness depending on the context of how it is used, to something that automatically removes context and to be assumed as "bad" and "the authors who use it are bad, or playing with dark magic that corrupts the soul of the author and the people choosing to read the fiction associated with the tag [hinting at virtue signaling for Purity Culture in spaces carved out meant to be a safe heaven as a result of the last major Purity Culture crusades fanfiction fandom had that impacted online fandom spaces.].".

"By itself [dead dove do not eat tag] it does not mean much-" "I've seen a fair amount of newer gen of fanfic readers misinterpret it as an actual type of writing trope when it's not-"

My intent in calling back the origins of the phrase [I went as far to get the video for full visual and auditory context on top of me explaining the joke of the skit in an attempt to break things down fully to an easy to understand level], I meant to highlight the importance of understanding how nonsensical it is to just run into a fanfiction or other work of art and the only summary or tags being "Dead Dove do Not Eat.". By itself the phrase just results in curiosity and actions similar to what the guy (Michael) had. With the added context of what the show (Yes, the tag does require knowledge that it was born out of a parody/comedy show and making one of the points @insanitysilver brought up very true which I'll maybe get into in a possible spoiler break line later on depending on how long this post gets because I feel like I'm putting an insane amount of typing in a effort to very thoroughly break down old internet slang.) is and how that genre [comedy] is and should work in relation to commentary on things around us at the time of the birth of the joke, the viewer or in case of this situation the reader, is left breadcrumbs to follow to the conclusion that it is not the world which went out of the way to warn about a clear cut situation [dead animal one does not normal run into is ahead of you, do not interact with] is or should not be at fault/blamed if someone decides to value their curiosity above the clear warnings everyone gave that the act of interacting with the thing with very clear and obvious warnings is not a good idea at all. (once again @insanitysilver has good points about how this doesn't take into consideration lack of clarity due to neuro divergency among some potential readers, but again I will probably put forth some context as to why that is not the best reason to devalue the existed meaning of Dead Dove Do not Eat among fanfiction trigger warnings) To get into the second quote of my OG post, and what prompted me to try and go for a PSA despite me being a very small voice in an obscure website that people joke about being dead or dying every other day, is that there had been a poll where a lot of newer fanfic readers were stating Dead Dove Do Not Eat as a tag should not exist, and/or how it [by itself] means freaky and taboo things. That is it. The big reason why I tried to do a PSA about an old TV sitcom joke that turned into internet slang for a niche of users. And to circle back to the beginning of this current thesis length post so it does not get lost in the sauce:

I did not write the og post with the PSA attempt to cast forward a philosophical discussion about how language evolves, because I agree that things take on different meanings as we move along as a civilization. I wrote it as a call back to understand the position we were at, and the direction we are going. To understand where we want to go as we go forward we need to understand our past and/or our starting point. The main reason I chose to try and spread the og meaning of the phrase is that I ran into so many people trying to change the meaning of something that is meant to have context and thus has varying degrees of seriousness depending on the context of how it is used, to something that automatically removes context and to be assumed as "bad" and "the authors who use it are bad, or playing with dark magic that corrupts the soul of the author and people choosing to read the fiction associated with the tag"[hinting at virtue signaling for Purity Culture in spaces carved out meant to be a safe heaven as a result of the last major Purity Culture crusades fanfiction fandom had that impacted online fandom spaces.].

While I understand how conversations/discussions on things go, and you guys are free to add on to my og statement expanding the conversation of the topic of the tag "Dead Dove do not Eat", I feel it is important not to forget that trying to tag things properly with clear warnings to users is important. To clearly warn of things your work ahead has, as the owner of the dead dove did in the skit the phrase references to, to avoid potential "Michaels" of being or having a scaring and unpleasant experience much like the show's Michael did. This whole thing connects to the whole discussion of improper tagging in AO3 specifically imo, because before AO3 tags were not really common, so you were lucky at running into a "Dead Dove Do Not Eat" warning somewhere in the title with parentheses or somewhere in a very text limited story summary. Whether people like it or not Dead Dove Do Not Eat is a staple tag in fandom, and has worked as a trigger/content warning for nearing two decades. There isn't much value to trying to make it a taboo because of ideology that sounds like it's coming from politics that lead to previous fanfiction safe heavens becoming censored and pushing people away, who ended up creating a place that became popular due to it's lack of hard censorship. AO3 tags are vital in self curating the type of experience that isn't the same as the wild and scaring experience many of us had in the past where more often then not subject matter was not warned to the potential readers at a glance. As much as it's on a author to do their best to try and properly warn against trigger subject matter with whatever tags they choose, there is also a point where it is on the potential reader's aka the Michael's out in the world to take responsibility/accountability on whether they choose to read subject matter that was warned against in the tags, title, or summary by the posting author. [I had put a spoiler tag but for the sake of further breaking things down for people who may come across this I'm not hiding it.]

addressing points in the first screenshot: 1.) I'm confused as to your meaning. Dead Dove Do Not Eat does convey important info. Why it is important for authors to tag important info as such I cover enough (tldr-ed in the last 2 paragraphs of my post) that I won't rehash that subject here. If you mean it as "If this is so important why isn't it clearer" it's because it's meant as a joke, and a joke by itself lacks too much context to properly work as a useful trigger. I was never advocating for Dead Dove Do Not Eat to be used by itself because of that. That is contrary to the very essence of why I posted and what I tried to convey succinctly in my og post. 2.) Requiring the Reader to guess/infer at the meaning of the joke and addressing your second paragraph about not knowing Arrested Development, not speaking english/not understanding figurative speech, or lacking understanding because of being Neurotypical. "Requiring the Reader to guess/infer the meaning of the joke" Arrested Development was as big as The Walking Dead, Game of Thrones, The Office and other such examples. While it is unfair to those who don't watch the show, it isn't and wasn't insane for people to ask and shortly there after know it's meaning. We did also have internet search engines back then. This point, coming from someone who actually didn't watch Arrested Development because I found it boring and unfunny, but did go out of their way to use a search engine at the time to understand the meaning and why it was being used (spoiler: it was just a dumb meme people included to be cheeky and have a sense of wit in their posts; sounds familiar to today's use of memes huh?). Not speaking english/not understanding figurative speech, or lacking understanding. To reference my ending, at a point that becomes an issue past the author. An author can only bend over backwards so much, for a unknown person. Taking away a known meaning of a tag or cancelling a tag so it's no longer used because of hyperbolic hypotheticals doesn't help in quickly and clearly identifying the meaning of a phrase or word(s) that have held a certain meaning for again nearly two decades. Yes language evolves, but that is passed the point of what I was trying to say in my original post. To the point of Neurotypicals, I agree, but again it is not all on the author if they did their best to communicate as much as they could for fanmade free written fanart. More so, when taking into account the times, being inclusive to neurotypical or people dealing with mental issues was not really considered important at the time in the USA. (For reference Gay Marriage Rights in the USA were not protected at a national level until 2015, that is 9 years ago. We are moving, but slowly also why it's important to protect the progress we've made considering current political attitudes from conservative sides, but I digress.) At those times no one really batted an eye at the R word being used, so it's safe to say slang at the time didn't take much considerations at being inclusive. However to Arrested Development's credit they actually had a neurodivergent character and plot around how they are perceived and treated. Whether it's well written is up for debate and interpretation of things like writing, comedy, and whether the commentary it sparked helped us become aware of neurodivergent issues. As stated I am not a fan of the show, so I'll just say if that's a point of interest in our pop culture, then you should research the episode, characters and story, and interviews around that storyline by creators in charge if they ever discussed it.

@insanitysilver I hope I don't come off too confrontational, I'm actually pleasantly surprised this got some attention because it means the PSA is PSA-ing and as your final point states trying to look back at the origins of the phrase is a satisfactory stand in, until a more concise and well recognized trigger/content warning(s) that really underlines to take stated trigger/content warning(s) by the author seriously becomes well known in our diction. I think I'll wrap this up here.

As a reminder or PSA for new fanfic readers this is what "Dead Dove: Do Not Eat." references:

When used in tags for fanfics it is as a trigger warning to: take the other tag(s) seriously/to take the tag(s) warnings at face value. It is a term meant to highlight the other trigger warnings in the tags. By itself it does not mean much, besides referencing this scene of Arrested Development, where someone ignores a very clearly stated warning and regrets their actions. I've seen a fair amount of newer gen of fanfic readers misinterpret it as an actual type of writing trope when it's not, and because of that people venting about its use in tags by fanfic authors are coming off as: "I dislike the author telling me what to do (that being to pay attention to the other tagged warnings for a fanfic)" or "I dislike the author trying to highlight or put up trigger warnings for their fic".

[just-some-random-blogger]

hey gorgeous! it's me! thank you so much for writing it! tbh, it's not what i expected but AGWHWHWG bc soft!daemon? i LOVE it!! such a cutie!! i still do need him to suffer more, though... what do you think about maybe a part 2? where he's the one who (finally) gets teased and gets the taste of his own medicine (reader flirting with HM ser stong?). so the demanded apology with tears on the knees (not nsfw) because this pretty prick deserves it :) again, thank u so much for writing it! sorry if it's too much, never wanted to make you uncomfortable! take care!

Since You Asked So Nicely

Daemon Targaryen x Reader + Harwin Strong x Reader

Summary: Your feud with your husband was about to meet a swift and strong end.

Word Count: 1k+

Warnings: mentions/descriptions of violence, daemon's still such a man, fem!reader, wife!reader, i love strong puns XD, married couple quarrels, harwin daddy, jealous!daemon, fluff, angst, typos, etc.

A/N: the title of this fic is my reaction to you nonnie. honestly i kinda felt both bad that my fic wasn't enough T_T LIKE PLEASE I TRIED then annoyed like HOW DARE YOU NOT LIKE IT THEN MAKE ME WRITE SMTH ELSE HADhASLHDA HAHAHAH nah but then you asked me so nicely so i thought ok fine i'll give it another wack i hope that i'll finally be enough for you T_T i guess our theme for today is petty 🥰 WIAT GURL THESE GIFS SIDE BY SIDE TOGETHER FUCK THAT SHIT IM DEAD BYE Tagging: @pinksirensong @deniixlovezelda @targaryenmoony Part 1 (which I think you should read) "It Takes Two"

We had not spoken since our struggle last night. In the flames of my anger, I woke up before him and made no effort to alert him of my errands or duties for the day. That of course, also meant, he was certainly riveting in annoyance and betrayal having woken up alone after pleading mercy to me until he and I both fell asleep.

In all his pride and morose wailing, still, he did not find it in himself to ask for pardon. He instead wasted his breath in trying to convince me he did it as a game, and that I should not have thought much of it, that he would happily get on his knees but for the exact opposite thing I truly want him to do.

And even now, the man is as insufferable as he can get. Since it seems it was nary clear that I did not enjoy the sight of him divulging his attentions to other ladies at court, he did, what? Yes of course, the very exact thing.

Each ear of his had a young lady giggling bashfully into it. I had gone a great many lengths to ignore it, but then it began to be unbearable when I finally noticed the lords and ladies turn from my husband to me, muttering and laughing under their breath.

Normally, I wouldn't even bat an eye over the opinions the pricks had of me or my husband. Here and now however, it was hard not to feel like a dunce, when I was the princess, yet I was standing alone, and my prince had ladies fawning over him left and right.

Enough.

I will not grant him the satisfaction of humiliating me any more than he has. I'm leaving.

Daemon watches, perking at the sight of the exit. He steps forward, away from the irritating voices, smirk falling, for it was never truly genuine in the first place.

His face hardens when there is an interception.

"My princess," a deep voice speaks, as a large man blocks me.

I lift my gaze and stop before we collide. Immediately, my spirits are lifted at the sight of the dark man's hair and beard, "Harwin."

His lips curve at the familiarity of my addressing.

"I thought you were off, doing gods-know-what again?"

Harwin chuckles, shaking his head, "the gods have allowed me to accomplish my tasks swiftly.

He raises a brow and places his hands behind him, "you're not leaving when the festivities have not even commenced yet, are you?"

I scoff, crossing my arms, "festivities are naught this eve, ser Strong."

"That is because," he steps forward, taking my hand slowly, "you and I have not yet shared a dance."

I roll my eyes at him, "you're a poor partner."

"And that is precisely why the festivities will commence."

I snort, smiling up at him, as he smiles back down. He takes my expression as wordless agreement. Harwin spins me once before leading me to the dancefloor. I chuckle at his theatrics. Poor he may be in dancing, he's always been good at making me smile.

I press slightly against him as his hand falls to my back, the other clutching my arm delicately.

"Tell me, Winne," I grip his firm shoulder as we glide with the music.

He snorts at my archaic pet name for him, rolling his eyes as he licks his teeth in amusement.

I am amused by his reaction, pleased to know that the name still held him tightly in annoyance, exactly like how it did when we were younger. I chuckle before deflating, "do men normally think it a game to toy with their wives' feelings?"

Harwin's amused expression fades. He grunts and spins me around, using the opportunity to eye Daemon, who was undoubtedly already looking at us.

When his eyes dart back to me, he purses his lips, "indeed this night is not at all festive to you, little doe."

I turn away from him, aimlessly looking at his collar to avert my glare elsewhere. He did not mean to trigger my anger, what he said was his pet name for me as children, but it had been since overshadowed by my husband's musing of the name; he called me his little doe in times he came to me as a predator and I appeared to him like prey.

My gut groans in annoyance.

Harwin notices my discomfort and does me the courtesy of changing the subject, "tis unfortunate for me to announce a tonne of men believe riling wives a thrilling sport."

I turn back to him; the darkness in my face melts when I catch the concern in his. I purse my lips tightly, pushing a stray curl away from his face, "and do you hold the same regard, Strong?"

"Hmm," he looks away to think, "my princess would be pleased to learn that as a child, I had a terrible playmate," Harwin turns back to me, raising his brows, "she was the most entitled little girl I ever met, was so viscous and strong."

I snort.

He mimics, "though perhaps not as strong as me. Still, I am aghast to ever think of crossing or treating a woman poorly, not even because I think it descent, but merely for I fear the rage of she."

I cannot help the fond smile that spreads on my lips. I tilt my head as we circle the room, continuing our movements, "I suppose it is the gods irony that the Strong boy fears a strong girl."

Harwin laughs, twirling me around once more. I break into a chuckle as he does so, a bit dizzy when he pulls me back close to him. I am heaving slightly when he pulls me close.

"I suppose it is, princess," he tilts his head.

In that moment, the song ends and each dance partner parts, clapping as they did, us included.

"Care for another dance, Winnie?" I ask, extending my hand to him.

"Actually," he leads me to the side, "I was wondering if you wanted a change of pace," Harwin brings us by a column, "I feel that, in all his pettiness, the prince has not yet told you that the flowers he requested for you have recently just been planted in the gardens."

"What?"

Harwin huffs, "I had the same reaction when I heard of it. Your husband is a fu-"

Instantaneously, I am pulled aside and a string of, what I knew to be High Valyrian curses, were muttered tightly. Daemon seethes, gripping me with his iron hand, "and what of her husband, Strong?"

Harwin is unfazed by the glare Daemon throws.

I wince at how rough his grip is on me, "unhand me!" I bark, shoving Daemon off me. He does not budge and tightens his grip further. It is clear to me Daemon is too blinded by his rage to realize he is hurting me.

It is because of this, Harwin finally steps in. He barks, yanking Daemon off me, stepping between us, "you're hurting your wife, prince!"

Of course the action only caused further injury to me, Daemon's nails grazed my skin, and yet I am thankful for Harwin's interception.

The vein on Daemon's neck flares as he presses forward, closer to his opponent, "you have no right to tell me what I do with my wife!"

The area of my arm that Daemon grabbed throbs in pain. Tears fog my eyes as I watch the two of them squabble.

"I have every right to protect the princess," Harwin flares, "especially from the likes of you."

"From the likes of me?!" Daemon narrows his eyes.

The crowd breaks into a shocked gasp when the prince lunges and grabs Harwin by the collar, muttering something in High Valyrian, then threatening, "I best kill you. Who the fuck do think you are to tell me anything, vermin?!"

"Daemon!" I quip, prying him off Harwin, "unhand him!"

"YOU KEEP YOUR HANDS OFF MY WIFE!" Daemon seethes, hands digging deeper into Harwin's clothing.

"KEEP YOUR ATTENTIONS ON HER THEN!" Harwin barks back, overpowering him, twisting Daemon's hands off him and shoving him away.

The next instant, the attentions of the entire room is upon us. I feel my blood pump as my head spins, unsure of what to do next. I still manage to act swiftly before anything else can happen.

I walk over to Harwin, calling out to him. "that's enough, please just-"

"Why are you going to hi-" Daemon starts, grabbing me again. He cuts himself back and recoils when I whine and draw back at the contact he makes at my sore arm, the arm he most definitely bruised.

I snap at him, throwing him a hot glare. He looks bewildered. He looks guilty. He doesn't even meet my eyes and instead is staring at my arm. I point a finger at him, "I'll deal with you later."

I turn back to Harwin, placing my hands on his chest, pushing him away, "go home, Winnie."

Daemon's head cocks, his lips twitches in an unpleasant manner, "Winnie?"

Harwin gently takes my arm, leaning in, "he hurt you."

I feel tears prick at the corner of my eyes. I fight them off as I whimper, "please, just go."

Harwin brushes his calloused hand on my injured arm before walking back and storming off.

When I turn back to Daemon, he is looking at me with a stoic expression. I grit my teeth and grab him, dragging him away with me as we leave this damned hall.

I take him all the way to our shared chambers, but I stop just outside the door. I finally release him and begin to berate him, "are you satisfied?"

Daemon stiffens at the sound of my shrill voice.

I heave, "not only did you ruin my night, you ruined everyone else's!"

His eyes evade me. His lips part when he sees my arm. He reaches out to me and I recoil, "don't you dare fucking touch me."

"I didn't mean-"

"YOU DIDN'T MEAN TO DO ANYTHING BUT YOU STILL DID THEM!" I scream. I poke his chest in anger, "you claim it's all a game to you, and yet you're the only one that ever enjoys it!"

"It's all that cunt, St-"

"IT'S YOU, DAEMON!" I flare, "It's always you!"

Daemon's face contorts. His breath hitches. He walks closer, "my love, please-"

"You hurt me, Daemon!" I word carefully, wanting it to finally get through his thick skull, "not just tonight, but for the past weeks!"

He calls out my name but I raise a hand to silence him.

"You're either sleeping on the floor or sleeping elsewhere."

He gulps, ready to plead his case again. I cut him off before he can even open his mouth.

"Speak a word in protest over my generosity and I will chose a far crueler fate for you," I coldly spit, walking toward the door, pushing it open. I look over my shoulder as I walk in the room, "what's it going to be, prince?"

Daemon cringes at the call, brows tightening along with his fists. He deflates and mutters under his breath, "floor."

I turn to him, eyes narrowing, "you were so loud a while ago, where did your fire go, dragon?"

"Floor," he utters walking in the room, stopping once he is in front of me. Daemon's expression is grave as he mutters again, "I'd much rather sleep on the floor, wife."

I pull away from him before he can even attempt to touch me. I walk towards our bed, grabbing a pillow, haphazardly throwing over to him. I glare darkly, "if you are cold, sleep by the fire, dragon."

Daemon calls out my name, wanting to begin his pleas again, but then he stiffens when he watches me walk toward the door, "where are you going?"

I scoff, "how cruel of you to think I'd sleep with a throbbing arm."

"I'll come-"

I turn to him, tears finally running down my cheeks. Daemon freezes in his spot. I huff, looking away from him, "do not show your face to me until I've calmed."

Daemon frowns.

"I mean it."

At last, he finally has the brain to no longer push the matter further.