#maybe he can eat her before she eats him but...

[cybergoth1]

can you do some Jason Todd as a husband headcannon pls !! i just know that when he’s healed , he’s hauling his partner and getting TF out of Gotham , and popping out babies (GIRLDAD) and a nice job in a low-key town and maybe becomes a househusband 😋🤭(for real i’m 100% sure he would) but at the same time he is The Jason Todd . Hot , mysterious , emotional but also not , a big fat nerd in a brick body .

you know your daddy's home.

pairing: jason todd x fem!reader.

warnings/tags: fluffy, pre established relationship. my silly drabble about raising a daughter with jason todd. girl dad jason todd. husband jason todd.

author's note: hey babe i turned it into a drabble! hope you don't mind it!

"look, mommy! i'm batman!”

you suppressed a chuckle as you watched your five-year-old daughter standing tall on the couch, wearing a paper mask poorly shaped like batman’s cowl. the little girl came home from school, talking non-stop about the vigilant and refusing to take off her paper mask, even during lunch time, excitedly repeating what her teacher had said about nowday heroes.

"gotham needs me!"

she was trying to make her voice deeper as she jumped onto the floor. the cats, startled by the noise on the wooden floor, bolted away in a stampede.

"you're too pretty to be batman, baby girl".

your husband jason said as he stepped out of the bathroom. the scent of soap and shaving lotion lingered in the air as he walked down the hallway in just his sweatpants. his scars seemed more visible, glistening under the light as drops of water trailed down his bare back and chest.

“but how do you know what he looks like? he's always wearing a mask!” her childish voice rang out indignantly.

he picked her up effortlessly with one hand, while the other gently tugged the paper mask aside to look into her bright blue eyes — blue like his had been before the lazarus pit. her nose, mouth and ears were just like yours, a glimpse of you both in her youthful face.

"he sounds ugly, like a very old sad man. unlike you, princess".

"i'm not a princess, i'm vengeance!"

you laughed behind the stove.

"well, vengeance," he said, walking toward the apartment’s kitchen with her tiny legs wrapped around his hips "you can save gotham after eating your vegetables," he added with a smirk, putting her on the high chair.

she looked at him with wide eyes, as if he’d just handed her a death sentence.

"broccoli?"

"broccoli".

you placed the plate of food in front of her, the broccoli standing out between the rice and meat like a tiny, green nightmare. she looked up at you with pleading eyes, silently appealing to your good side.

you stroked her hair gently.

"if you don’t eat, i'll have to tell batman that his sidekick isn’t eating properly. you can't patrol without eating broccoli," he said, pulling out the chair to sit beside her. that was more than enough. with a disgusted expression, she began to eat, occasionally poking at the broccoli.

"hi, jay," you said, placing your hands on his broad shoulders and giving him a light massage. he softly kissed your left hand before looking up at you.

"how’s my other girl doing?" he asked with a smile, his lips still lingering against your hand. your daughter was so focused on hating the broccoli that she didn’t even notice the display of affection. normally, she would’ve made a gagging noise, followed by a dramatic, “bleh!”.

"she's missing you a lot" you said kissing the top of his head. a familiar scent makes you pause for a moment.

"you're using my shampoo again, aren't you?"

"maybe?"

©cybergoth1, 2025

[morganakang444]

𝑑𝘰𝑛‘𝘵 ℎ𝑎𝘵𝑒 𝘵ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑒𝑟 || 𝑙𝑒𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝑒𝑠𝑒𝑢𝑛𝑔 (𝑝𝘵 2) ౨ৎ

꒰ ꒱ྀི lee heeseung x fem!reader

☆゙ ↳ main masterlist

☆゙ ↳ prev | next

☆゙ ↳ synopsis: you don‘t want me? fine. the two of us can play that game.

the heartthrob of the campus had finally set his eyes on y/n. she was going to be his next victim, to fall for him and assume she can fix him moments before she finds herself ghosted. but y/n knew all too well…too bad she only captures heeseung‘s heart after beating him at his own game. that’s when she learns: don’t hate the player. hate the game.

☆゙ ↳ wc: 3828

☆゙ ↳ genre/warnings: a lil smutty again (y/n touches herself lol), cursing, maybe a bit rushed (?), y/n is still a virgin and heeseung is turning into a simp lwk, drinking, partying, mentions of sex, if i missed anything lmk!!

☆゙ ↳ an: i‘m super nervous to post this because i‘m rlly hoping it lives up to part one!! (i am scared that is my peak if u can‘t tell.) i‘ve had most of this written already so this is why it came so fast. part three will be taking a little while lol also i had to mention the nostalgic jackson wang party!!

in the car, karina basically dragged y/n into the passenger seat, a concerned look on her face. "are you okay?? hee didn’t give me any time to ask what happ—"

y/n waved her hand, signaling karina to stop talking. "i‘m fine. i was just getting harassed by some guy and heeseung helped me out." she placed her hand down, a smirk forming on y/n‘s face. "but your plan worked quicker than i thought it would—heeseung admitted to wanting me. and it was a real, raw, just—genuine thing that came from his mouth." y/n chuckled. "pretty soon i‘ll have to leave him hanging." she smiled, satisfied.

karina‘s mouth was agape in disbelief, blinking at y/n‘s words. "this fast? i knew playing hard to get was the best shot," karina snickered, nudging y/n‘s shoulder before starting up her car.

and as they started driving y/n remembered who karina was with before coming here; yunjin.

"how‘s it going with yunjin?" y/n noticed karina‘s grip on the steering wheel tighten.

"i don’t even know if there is anything going on with yunnie. we‘re together and we fuck and talk or go to sleep a little together before one of us has to leave." she frowns.

"so…a situationship with your ex, hm?" y/n asks sympathetically.

karina only nods. "but i‘ll be over it soon. i‘ll meet another cute girl or maybe a nice, manly guy and i‘ll probably forget all about her."

but y/n knew karina too well—she could never forget about her girlfriend since junior year of high school. she placed her manicured hand on karina’s round shoulder.

"you love her, huh?"

karina gave y/n a saddened smile. "i think you know that answer…"

"let’s go shopping and get your mind off this, hm? we can go home after and order takeout and watch a movie, yeah?"

karina nods, grinning appreciatively at y/n.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

sitting in their small dorm room, y/n‘s ipad was setup against a pillow on karina‘s bed. with blankets and pillows under them, on them, and all around them, karina and y/n sat against y/n‘s bed, a low, long, tv tray over their laps, snacks and food all over it, the girls picking up and eating whatever like it was a buffet—sushi, cheeseburger sliders, jellies, puddings, fried rice, mac n cheese, sodas, and pizza rolls on plates in front of them as their eyes were glued to '10 things i hate about you' playing on the tiny screen in front of them.

y/n was slurping down a jello cup when karina‘s phone pinged. she licked burger grease off her fingers before she wiped it on her old, oversized pajama shirt and picked up her phone.

"it‘s sunoo…he wants to know if you and i wanna come to jackson wang‘s party tomorrow night." karina says as she reads sunoo‘s message.

y/n thinks. "isn’t jackson the president of the frat he‘s in? is it going to be in the frat house?" she blinks.

karina nods. "yeah, it will be. i know you don’t like parties so we d—"

"let’s go." y/n smiles. "i never go out. and i don’t want you to stay home because of me."

karina raises a surprised brow. "you sure?"

y/n nods, sounding assured of her decision. "yeah. i wanna."

"okay, i‘ll tell sunoo.." karina smirks, happy her best friend was finally expanding her horizons.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

all through that next day, y/n rushed through her classes, not paying much attention to anything at all—except for the wonders filling her mind about her first real party.

it was ridiculous—y/n felt like a high schooler all over again.

however, that whole day y/n hadn’t bumped into heeseung once. she felt a strange sense of disappointment swell up inside of her…but she didn’t know why. and as she shook that feeling off as her last class of the day ended, she darted home to get ready with karina tonight.

"pink…pink…or…pink! 'kay…" karina sighed, helping y/n choose an outfit for later tonight.

"what‘s wrong with pink, hm?" y/n teased, sitting on the edge of her bed.

"pink isn’t sexy…" karina pulls out a silk, baby pink mini dress with a thin, white trim around the end and around the v-neck cleavage. she narrowed her eyes, analyzing the article of clothing deeply.

"this can make due…" she speaks, fingers running the material of the slit on the dress intently.

"with what?" y/n tilts her head.

"those little white heels you have—the kitten heels that are open toed. anddd…" karina trails off, grabbing y/n‘s little jewelry holder hanging in her closet. "these little pearl earrings, and your thin little pearl necklace." karina holds up a matching set of tiny dangly pearl earrings and a necklace. she lays it out on y/n‘s bed, shoes going underneath on the floor.

"and we‘ll curl the ends of your hair…and keep the makeup light, but add some glitter, hm?" karina came close to y/n, touching all over her hair, fingers running through and eyes scanning over the girl‘s soft locks.

"yes ma‘am." y/n salutes with a playful smirk before standing up. karina gives y/n‘s ass a little smack, earning a small squeal from the girl who was soon laughing.

"now go shower, you stink." karina teased.

y/n playfully scoffed before grabbing her stuff and going to the dorm showers.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

and even in the shower, y/n could only think of all the fun she was about to have as she stood under the warm water, feeling the warmness cascade down her body.

all the possibilities ran through her head—who would she dance with? would she get black out drunk and make out with someone? what if she slept with someone and lost her v card at a frat party?

y/n sighed, her mind trailing off to what it‘d feel like to finally have sex for the first time. how it‘d feel to have a man hold her close and slide in and out of her tight heat as he moaned her name with each thrust. how a man would leave a trail of hickeys down her neck and breasts as he fingered her, curling his digits inside of her warm, wet pussy, hitting the sweet spot inside of her that made her see stars.

y/n sighed in frustration, leaning her head back against the cold shower tile wall, one of the rare moments of arousal taking over her system, flowing through her veins so sweetly, making her pussy start to drip.

swallowing in defeat, y/n‘s hand traveled down, inching closer and closer to her core, the soft pads of her fingers finding her aching clit, rubbing it in tight little circles, her mouth forming an 'o' shape as her back arched off the tile wall in pleasure. y/n‘s eyes fluttered shut as small sighs left her lips, her fingers moving in a faster rhythm, her mind swarmed with thoughts of being fucked…the feeling of a hand wrapped around her throat as she was pounded into—y/n was never thinking of a specific person, to be honest. in her imagination, the man fucking her didn’t exactly have a face, (but did have a banging bod.) until her hands were moving faster and rougher over her clit, rubbing the swollen nub as she got closer and closer to her peak, her breathy moans echoing off the shower walls…and in her mind there was finally a face. one so unexpected she suddenly pulled back her hand, ripping her orgasm away from herself as her eyes flew open in shock.

why the fuck did lee heeseung‘s face appear in her mind??

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

after her shower, y/n could only stare into her own eyes through the bathroom mirror, a mix of disgust and confusion welling up inside of her.

she combed her wet hair before putting it up in a clawclip, slipping her white towel off her freshly washed and shaved body. she sighed, shuffling her playlist as she applied her skincare to her baby soft face.

all she could think about as she rubbed in her expensive serums and moisturisers was why? why did she have to think about heeseung of all people?

she wasn’t even attracted to him like that—but all y/n could do was brush it off as the fact that it was a mere flashback to the night two weeks ago that left heeseung hanging. she wouldn‘t cave in now. but heeseung was right about one thing.

y/n‘s hands were not doing the job right.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

"y/n! are you ready?" karina called from right outside their shared dorm room, coming back from the bathroom down the hall.

"yeah…" y/n reluctantly spoke, not too sure if she liked her appearance or not. she was standing in front of her full length mirror propped against her bed, looking at her body from all angles.

karina slowly walked inside, a dramatic gasp leaving her lips as she covered her mouth, staring at y/n.

"you look so hot, y/nnie!!" she squealed, coming up behind her best friend, hugging her from behind and resting her chin on the crook of y/n‘s smooth shoulder.

"you‘re so beautiful." karina smiles affectionately, her tiny purple dress touching y/n‘s. and y/n did look beautiful. her curves were perfectly accentuated by her little pink dress, her soft shoulders on full display thanks to the thin spaghetti straps. her white kitten heels showed off her freshly painted pink toenails, her moisturised skin glowing naturally.

y/n smiled softly, locking eyes with karina. "you really think so?"

karina nods. "the most."

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

it was a short drive to the s.a.e frat house which was already crowded by 11pm. y/n nervously stepped out of karina‘s car, a shaky sigh exiting her glossed lips. taking note of y/n‘s nervousness, karina reached her hand out and took y/n‘s, giving her a reassuring squeeze and a matching smile.

"don’t be scared. this‘ll be fun!" karina pulled y/n inside the huge house, the blaring music growing louder once they stepped closer and closer inside.

upon entry in the dimly lit house, it seemed like everyone from uni was there. the only lighting was shitty leds that could barely illuminate anything, and there were people making out or grinding on each other to the music in every corner of at least four rooms. y/n adverted her gaze, not wanting to feel like she was watching a live action porno about to unfold.

following karina through the crowd, y/n kept her head low, not exactly wanting to draw any attention to herself. this wasn’t really the first party moment she was imagining.

"wanna take a shot?" karina asks, now in the kitchen where the liquor was stored. y/n shakes her head. "one of us has to drive." she laughs dryly, earning a shrug from her best friend. "and that will be you," karina says in a lively manner before downing a shot. she slammed the tiny glass down on the white counter, her face contorting into disgust and eyes squeezing shut.

"fuck, that’s strong…" karina exhales, her matte lips forming an 'o' shape. y/n could smell the alcohol on karina‘s breath, making y/n slightly nauseas.

karina opened her eyes, and looked around. just then, her dark brown eyes landed on a familiar figure with shoulder length red hair and a tiny black dress. karina could tell right away it was the love of her life, huh yunjin.

"there she is, y/n…" karina holds y/n‘s arm, making her look towards yunjin‘s direction, her slender, black polished finger pointed directly to the redhead.

"call her over," spoke y/n encouragingly, trying to calm down the dark haired girl.

"what if she doesn’t want to? what if she doesn’t want to see me in public? what if s—"

y/n rolled her eyes, cutting off karina‘s nervous string of rambles, hollering yunjin‘s name, making her look at the pair. karina shyly hid behind y/n as if the girl were her shield. and as y/n motioned for yunjin to come over, karina lightly smacked y/n‘s bare arm. "what are you doing?" karina whisper yelled, unaware her ex girlfriend was making her way over to them right now.

without a word, y/n dragged karina out from behind her frame. karina stumbled, practically getting shoved into yunjin.

"umm…hi…" karina shyly spoke, adverting eye contact in contrast to her confident ex who stood in front of her.

"oh don’t act like you don’t know me…" yunjin teased, sipping out of her red solo cup as she tucked a strand of karina‘s long, curled hair behind her earring plated ear.

"wanna hang with us? we‘ve both missed you. i know she‘s seen a lot of you lately," y/n started, touching karina‘s shoulder, "but i haven’t." she playfully pouted.

yunjin smirks, softly chuckling.

"yeah, i don’t have anyone else to see." she came closer to karina, a look of enjoyment on her face at making the younger girl nervous.

y/n smiled at karina, knowing her little scheme has worked.

karina grabbed another shot, downing it quickly to subdue her nerves.

"um…wanna dance?" karina asks, her gaze falling on and off of yunjin.

"sure. i‘m always down to dance with you, rina." yunjin grabbed karina‘s hand. "you coming y/n?"

y/n shook her head. "i‘m okay, i‘ll join later—you two should get your time alone."

and with that, yunjin took karina to some other room, leaving y/n alone in the kitchen.

y/n made her rounds, talked to some people from her classes and danced a little with some guy…but she grew bored and craved time with her best friend.

"karina!" y/n called out, walking around the party. moving past people, mumbling 'sorry' and 'excuse me' a few times, her pale eyes darted around, in search for karina or at least yunjin.

but to no avail, y/n grew worried once she reached upstairs and walked in every bedroom, six out of nine containing people having sex—and karina nor yunjin were in none of them.

with an exasperated sigh, y/n pulled out her phone, looking for someone—anyone to call. and her eyes fell on one contact. heeseung.

y/n could call anyone else—annie from history class was here, her friend robin, even joshua would have come to help her. but for some reason, she really wanted to call heeseung…

pressing the contact name, she hit the call option, sighing shakily as she put her phone up to her ear, leaning up against an upstairs wall.

"hello?" y/n heard heeseung‘s voice through the line after a few rings, and faint music in the back. the same music as the party—was he here? probably. everyone else was.

"heeseung? it’s y/n…i need you…" she said with a defeated tone, laced with desperation.

"ahh, finally come to your senses, huh? but i wanna take you out first. i don’t want you to be just a hook u—"

"no, heeseung! not like that!" y/n placed her hand on her head, growing irritated. "i lost karina and yunjin. i‘m upstairs…can you help me out?"

heeseung chuckled. "on my way."

y/n hung up, placing her hands on her face as she crouched against a wall, waiting for her knight and shining armor.

within a few minutes, a hand tapped y/n‘s shoulder, and she looked up to see the person she needed most right now. she flashed a smile of relief, taking heeseung‘s extended hand and pulled herself up.

"thank you, heeseung…" she mumbled, fixing her dress.

heeseung‘s eyes trailed y/n‘s figure up and down…but not with the usual lust in his heart and eyes like he felt with other girls. there was warmth spreading through him like a flower slowly blossoming. something more of affection coursed through his veins. he could only think of her as beautiful—alluring, even instead of sexy. in this moment he would rather have held her in his arms and stroked her hair as she fell asleep instead of fucking her. and that was unusual for him.

"yeah, yeah…come on. i‘ll take you home. you sober?"

y/n nodded. "i was supposed to take the girls home."

heeseung led the girl downstairs and past the crowd, out to his car.

"i‘m glad you chose to call me…" he smiles, opening the passenger door for y/n.

y/n looked down bashfully as she got in, waiting for heeseung to get in the driver‘s seat before replying.

"i guess i figured i could count on you." she replied, putting on her seatbelt.

heeseung looked at y/n affectionately. "that means a lot to hear, you know."

and in that moment of vulnerability, both of them could have seen the truth hidden behind their eyes. the deep meaning sodden with verity. even if neither of them wanted to admit it.

but y/n only looked away. she nodded slowly, biting the inside of her lip to hold back a small smile that was about to form on her lips.

heeseung could only smirk a bit at her shy reaction, not used to her being such a timid little thing.

and with that he drove, both of his hands on the wheel. glancing towards y/n, he saw her delicate hand resting on the console between them, her attention looking out the window towards the night lit sky, and the city around them illuminated by a cascade of lights.

but heeseung was bold. when he looked at y/n, he no longer saw some girl he was chasing. he no longer saw a target to be shot at and claimed. but he didn‘t know why. he didn‘t know what this feeling he held for her exactly was…love? a twisted type of lust?

he carefully brushed his big hand against her own, giving her a chance to pull away if she didn’t want this. when she didn’t, heeseung intertwined his fingers with hers, caressing her knuckle with his thumb.

heeseung didn‘t know why he wanted to hold y/n‘s hand. he could only tell himself this was the next step to getting y/n in his bed. but as heeseung‘s gaze flickered over to the h/c girl beside him, he couldn’t shake the feeling he wanted more than a quick fuck with her. in this moment, he would rather stay like this with her, her tinier hand enveloped in his warm one, her tired frame gazing out the window towards the stars in front of them.

but heeseung could never admit to real feelings for a woman. especially one who left him so humiliated those couple of weeks ago in his dorm room.

the rest of the car ride was of pure silence—the comfortable one, though. the feeling of heeseung‘s calloused thumb contrasting y/n‘s smooth hand set aside her nerves until they got back to her dorm.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

"you know…i meant what i said over the phone.." heeseung said as the pair approached y/n‘s dorm room, looking down towards his feet before his gaze met y/n‘s.

y/n leaned against her dormitory door, her eyes squinting slightly in confusion. "what did you say..?"

heeseung smirked slightly, leaning his arm against the metal doorframe, towering over y/n. "when i said i wanted to take you out." his smirk turned into a smile of tenderness, letting her feel just how much he meant it.

"oh really?" y/n teased. "i thought you didn’t do dating.." she licked her lips, holding back a satisfied smile.

"nah..i don’t. but there’s something about you that makes me want to." heeseung tucked a strand of hair behind y/n‘s ear. "and i‘d like to figure out why.."

"okay." y/n shrugged. "then take me out. surprise me." she smiled a bit, leaning forward.

heeseung‘s hand traveled up to cup y/n‘s soft, unblemished cheek as he nodded, running the pad of his thumb over her skin.

"whatever you want, my girl.." his words were soft, and his eyes looked around y/n‘s face, his head coming closer to hers. "can..can i.." his words trailed off, but the intention was hung in the air.

y/n didn’t answer, instead she pressed her fingers to the boy‘s lips as he leaned in, biting her lip slightly, her smirk teasing as ever. as much as she was starting to like heeseung, as much as she would love to brush her lips against his in a fiery blaze if passion, she didn‘t. she needed to stay true to herself and her bet with karina. where was the fun in giving in now?

"nuh uh uh…" y/n taunted, tapping his lips with her manicured finger in rhythm with her coos. "i don’t kiss before a first date, heeseung." y/n licked her glossed lips, looking heeseung up and down in satisfaction, knowing she had him right where she wanted him as he let out a frustrated sigh onto her fingers.

"you‘re not slick if you think taking me on a date will help you get into my pants…" y/n tutted, crossing her arms.

heeseung only snickered, leaning slightly back from y/n.

"fine. i‘ll take you out, and i won’t fuck you. how about that? i‘ll show you just how serious i am okay?" heeseung smiled almost cockily, hiding the desperation behind his voice, wanting her to accept his plea.

y/n bit her lip ever so slightly, looking heeseung up and down provokingly. she shrugged. "sure. i‘ll go out with you." she spoke nonchalantly, a small smile of pride forming on her face as heeseung‘s ego deflated, and he let out a small "yes!" whisper, quickly clearing his throat and regaining his composure. "uh, okay, yeah. cool. can’t wait to see you y/n…" heeseung grinned. "how does this saturday sound?" heeseung swallowed, revealing the anticipation building up inside of him.

"sounds perfect," said y/n confidently, nudging heeseung away from her.

"now if you excuse me, i’m sleepy." y/n yawned, grabbing her keys from her mini purse and starting to unlock her door. "goodnight, heeseung…" she smiled sleepily.

"goodnight, pretty girl.." heeseung whispered. "i‘ll call you tomorrow." he planted a chaste kiss to y/n‘s smooth unblemished cheek before sauntering off down the hall.

as y/n entered her dorm and got herself unready as she shuffled her main playlist. she could only sigh every so often, wondering what heeseung’s true intent behind this date was. she couldn’t figure out why it mattered so much to her if she was being played right back—was it her ego being too big, not wanting to be toyed with the same way she was toying him? or was it because she thought she was seeing through some sort of act with his excitement and affection. but the deeper y/n thought about it, she didn’t sense any deception on heeseung‘s end. everything about him was so…genuine in a sense. but y/n has dealt with boys like this in the past, who thought they could hit and quit her—and when she rejected their advances she was met with a blocked number the next morning. however the difference between those boys in high school and lee heeseung is that he doesn’t give up that easy.

and for y/n, the real game was just about to start.

｡𖦹°‧ taglist:

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(if ur tags are not working pls lmk ᝰ.ᐟ)

[honeyhotteoks]

across stardust - two (j.yh); section two

summary: you and yunho have worked together for years, idol and makeup artist, but until today you’ve never touched him skin to skin. when the world tilts on its head from just a brush of his cheek, you realize he’s so much more than a crush, he’s your soulmate.one | two (section 1); (*section two) | three | four 🔗read on ao3 ✨across stardust pinterest board

note: i hope everyone enjoys this chapter. it's wildly fluffy and wildly romantic, and then deliciously smutty so i hope everyone enjoys. **this part was too long for tumblr's new word count guidelines! please check out the FIRST half of this part, here!

tags/warnings: idol!yunho, makeup artist!reader, fem!reader, soulmates au, soulmate identifying marks, soulmate tattoos, tattoed!reader, suggestive language, allusions to a past ex who pressured her into things she wasn't ready for, anxiety etc., and finally the smut; heavy makeouts, grinding, oral f!receiving, convos about oral m!receiving, lots of fingering, lots of cock touching, earth shattering soulmate sex, rough sex, soft!dom/pleasure!dom yunho and wide eyed sub!reader, heavy on the dirty talk, HEAVY on the praise. we got a lot of good girls in this one, and good god tagging for gratuitous use of pet names from yunho. lots of missionary and missionary adjacent positions, spooning sex to idk he's on his back and she's on top but laying on him it's hard to describe but by god is it hot please enjoy

pairings: yunho x reader

genre: fantasy, romance, smut || soulmates au

word count: 28.1k

**did you read section one of part two yet? if not, click here!!

Slowly, ever so slowly, the hazy cloud starts to lift. You’re both still shaking, Yunho hiding in your shoulder, his lips brushing against your pulsepoint as he comes back down from his high. Your fingers are locked tightly on his back still, legs pinning him to your pelvis, and it takes time for you to breathe through the last bits of dizziness and start to feel some kind of normal again. 

Finally you feel him exhale out an intentional breath and kiss your shoulder before pressing up on his forearms to look down at you, “Am I crushing you?” He lifts a bit of his body weight off, but you keep your arms locked. 

“Don’t go,” You say, holding him steady. 

He smiles dreamily, and shakes his head, “Not going anywhere,” 

Your legs fall slack on either side of him and you let your hands slide down to rest on his chest, “Good,” 

His eyes flick down over your bodies, to where you’re still connected hip to hip and with the fog of your newly cemented bond lifted, you feel a pang of his concern, “Did I hurt you?” 

You shake your head, smoothing your hand over his chest, “Mm-mm,” 

“You sure?” He takes one of your hands in his and gently kisses your knuckles. 

“You would have felt it if you did,” You remind him, “looks like we were right, we really were made for each other,” 

He rolls his eyes and smiles at your soft teasing, “Uh-huh,” 

You thread your fingers with his and tug him back down to where you rest in the pillows, kissing him as you do, “Mm,” you sigh, “do you think it will feel like that every time?” 

“If it does,” He laughs, “I’ll never make it out of this bed, I better resign now,” 

You nudge him, “Not funny,” 

“It’s a little funny,” He kisses you again, “but maybe I should, just keep you right here on my cock all day,” 

You shiver at his words, “And I’m the tease,” 

He laughs a little but squeezes your hand, “If it feels like that every time, I’m not teasing,” 

Your stomach flips pleasantly at his words, “Well,” your fingers skate down his chest, “we do have three days,” 

“That’s true,” He murmurs, his brow quirking playfully as he pecks a kiss to your lips, “do you have any objections to me keeping you right here?” 

You shake your head, “We’ll have to eat at some point, though,” 

“I’m pretty sure we can manage having sex in the kitchen,” He nips at your lip.

“My kitchen’s pretty small,” 

“I’m very creative,” He counters, his kisses traveling down your jaw now. 

You sigh, breathy as his tongue catches on your throat, “W-where else?” 

He huffs a laugh, “Shower,” 

“Of course,” 

“Couch,” His teeth tug gently at your earlobe and your muscles flutter and clench. Yunho groans lightly, and you feel his cock start to stiffen up inside you again. 

“And then?” Unconsciously, your legs start to widen just a little more. 

“The wall,” His voice is low and warm in your ear, “how see-through is that window, anyways?” 

Your eyes roll and you twitch under him, fingers tightening on his skin, “It’s reflective glass, you c-can’t see through it,” 

Yunho hums pleasantly, sucking at the pulsepoint of your neck and sending a shock of heat down your body, and you feel him start to stiffen up inside you again. A little breathy sound bubbles from your lips, and his hips grind down into yours just a little. His jaw tightens, muscles tense, and you feel him rock hard again and pressing insistently at all your sweet spots. 

“A-again?” You shiver. 

“Baby,” He sighs and chuckles, “all night,” 

Part of you thinks he’s kidding about that, but with that look in his eyes you know he’s more than serious. 

“Usually I’d need a little bit,” He admits, shifting up to his knees and dragging his hands down your body, “but you make me crazy,” 

You nod, moaning as his cock shifts inside you with the position change. Nothing has ever filled you like this, felt like this. The stretch is delicious, the way he seems to reach the tenderest places in your cunt that makes you see stars. The dizziness from the bonding a moment ago has dissipated, but the searing heat is still there, and you shiver, his fingertips skating over your tattoo before his hands find a home on your hips. 

“What do you say, baby? Can you take me again?” His hips pulse slowly, a torturous drag in and out to tease you. 

“Fuck yes,” You moan, one hand flying up to the wall behind you to brace yourself. 

“God, you sound pretty,” He pulses his hips again, punching a surprised moan from your throat, “exactly like that, I’m addicted to that sound.” 

He’s so verbal now that you’re not both swimming in the sensation of your newly forged bond, that night on the phone really was just a glimpse into who your partner is behind closed doors, his idol persona left on the concert hall floor. 

”J-just like that,” You nod, gripping the sheets. 

“Like that?” He teases, dragging you down onto his cock with his hands on your hips, “Yeah?” 

You moan again, “Harder,” 

“Fuck,” He curses, hands tight, sure to bruise, “we’re going to be so good together, aren’t we?” 

Before you can respond, he answers your plea with his hips, picking up the pace so that each pulse forward is met with the drag down of your body, connecting your bodies with firm, sharp snaps, the sound wet and wanton. 

“Y-yes, yes,” You all but sob, pleasure arcing through your belly and a fresh sheen of sweat breaking over your brow. 

Yunho groans, roughly fucking into you in just the way you needed, his body slick with sweat and glistening in the low light, his muscles flexing and relaxing with every snap of his hips. 

His mouth falls open, thumbs digging into your belly where he grips your waist, “Fuck, baby, you’re so tight,” 

Your cunt clenches, “You feel so good,” 

“That’s my good girl,” He breathes, his eyes hazy and lips parted as he watches you coming apart beneath him. 

You moan hard at the praise, your belly fluttering and clenching at the memory of how he talked to you that first time. You’ve thought of it dozens of times, desperate for exactly this, “Yes,” you whine, “I love when you call me that. Love when you talk to me like that,” 

Yunho shudders, his hips stuttering in pace and he groans, “Yeah?” 

“Don’t stop,” You reach for him, nails brushing over his skin as you try to get your hands on him. 

“Not stopping,” He assures you, but his hips do slow as he says, “what else do you like, hmm?” 

You can feel his curiosity, and his arousal too, the way he wants to know every button that makes you tick. Your slick channel pulses around his cock and you sigh in the sheets, “What do you think I like?” 

A half smile quirks his lips and he slows his pace to a stop, “Are you trying to tease me?” 

Your cheeks heat, caught under the exactness of his gaze and the rolling ripple of arousal through your body. 

“Cute,” He murmurs again, but he rolls his hips once hard to make you moan, “so pretty when you moan for me,” 

“God,” You have to pull your eyes away. 

“Don’t be embarrassed,” He brushes your hips with gentler hands. 

“I’m not,” You drop a hand over your face.  

“You’re blushing, baby,” His fingers loop under yours and pull your hand away from your eyes. 

“Don’t pretend it doesn’t turn you on,” You counter, “I can feel you,” 

“Oh?” He quirks a brow, rolling his hips, “You can feel me?” 

“Shut up,” You groan, flutters rolling through your abdomen.

“Let’s see if I can make you really embarrassed, hmm?” 

“Yunho,” You manage, but you’re caught under him, the press of his hips and the firm pressure of his hands.

”You’re mine, right?” His fingers skate over your body as he adjusts himself onto his knees between your splayed open thighs, “You trust me?” 

Anticipation buzzes inside you, your mouth running dry. In this position you’re completely exposed, his eyes raking over your every inch, and when his tongue darts out to wet his lips with his tongue, your breath quickens

“Do you?” He prompts softly. 

“Y-yes,” 

He smirks a little, and then he settles on his heels and squeezes your thighs, “You like when I grab you,” he says, “I can feel your little jolt of excitement every time I do this.” He squeezes again for good measure, and just like he said your stomach jumps. 

“You’re my soulmate,” You sigh, “of course I like it when you touch me,” 

“Mm,” He nods, his hands skating up your skin until he’s cupping your breasts, “fair, how about this?” 

You soften, “That’s nice,” 

“And this?” He squeezes a little and you swallow to keep your composure, but when he finds both your nipples with his thumb and forefinger to give them a gentle pinch, you pant, “This?” 

He watches your eyes go glassy, and you’re sure he can feel the liquid fire pooling in your belly. 

He pinches them again, this time adding a little more pressure and tugging them upwards a bit before he releases. 

You moan sharply, fingers locking down on the bedding beneath you at the sharp zing that passed from your chest to your achingly neglected clit. 

“Is that nice, baby?” He tugs again, “Or am I being too rough with you?” 

He’s teasing you, and you shiver, “Not too rough,” 

The muscle in his jaw tightens but he lets that pass, cataloguing it and moving on, “And I think we’ve already established you like my hands,” 

“No surprise there,” You sigh. 

“My fingers?” He slides his hands up, and your heart starts to beat faster in your chest. Yunho settles one broad hand at the base of your throat, his fingers circling your neck gently. He doesn’t apply any pressure, but the way his thumb and index finger brace each side of your jaw has you trembling in his hold. 

You swallow, throat bobbing against his palm. 

“You do,” He murmurs, his voice a little rougher. With his opposite hand, he ever so gently touches your lips with the pads of his fingers, and like you’ve done it for him a thousand times before you let your mouth fall open. 

He drags his fingers over the curve of your lower lip again, and your cunt spasms around his cock where it's still buried inside you. He smiles at your reaction and then he hooks two of his fingers over your lip, resting on your teeth. 

You gasp sharply, your tongue pressing against the pads of his fingers. 

He waits, his patience a challenge, and then you melt. You dip your head forwards to accept his fingers into your mouth, letting them slide back on your tongue, your lips closing around them so that when you drag your head back you can suck them just a little. 

You can taste yourself on his skin and he groans, “Good girl,” 

Your core clenches again, but as his fingers slip free from your mouth you pulse your muscles again to tease him this time, “You’re easier to read than you think,” you tell him, “I know what you like too.” 

He smiles, full of cheek, and shifts back to roll his hips, “Yeah?” He slides his hand down, spreading it wide over your belly, “I like being inside you,” 

“You like,” You start but he shakes his head.

”I like being buried so deep I can feel it here,” He presses down with the heel of his hand and thrusts forwards, driving his cock into you, and the tight sensation of his cockhead punching into your g-spot leaves you moaning, all teasing forgotten at the sudden sensation of pleasure at his hands. 

Yunho drops over you properly now, gathering you back into his arms and pushing your legs back open wide with a tilt of your hips. He kisses you hard and then his hips start to pulse, “I like knowing this little pussy belongs to me,” 

“Oh, fuck,” You grip down hard on his shoulders. 

“That’s it,” He tips you back, rolling into you, “open up for me,” 

You moan hard, arching into him. 

“Fuck,” He curses low in your ear, “sweetheart, you feel incredible,” 

You nod into his shoulder, “S-so do you, don’t stop,”

“The best thing I’ve ever felt in my life” He manages. 

“Yunho, god,” 

“That’s right,” He slips a hand under our leg, sliding up the back of your thigh to pin you open, “so good,” 

Hot need arcs up your spine, belly tight with burgeoning pleasure, and you shudder a broken sob into his skin, “Please, please,” 

He thrusts hard, groaning with every jut of his hips, “Fuck,” he pants, “you want to know what I really like?” 

“Yes, yes,”

”I like you like this,” His kisses travel over your slick skin, “messy, begging for me,” 

“For you,” You babble almost mindlessly. 

“I like you coming,” He moans, “I could watch you come forever,” 

“Fuck, god,” Your head falls back to the mattress. 

“I want to make you lose yourself,” His pace steadies, and he drops his hand from your leg to the sheets for better leverage, “I want to watch you go so cockdrunk you don’t even know what sounds you’re making, how loud you’re being for me,” 

“Yunho, oh my god,” Your moan is rough, deep in your chest. 

He drops his forehead to your hair and nods, “Exactly like that,” 

Your body is starting to move on its own, your thighs trembling, and your hips canting upwards to catch more friction on your clit as he fucks you, and you whine in heady need. 

In a flash, his hips lock down hard, your body arching into his chest as you start to see the bursts of color behind your tightly shut eyes, but he doesn’t stop moving. Yunho grinds down, rocking his hips to give you extra pressure, and with needy jerks of your body you hump artlessly up into him, pleasure rolling up from your clit as he cock sits heavy and thick inside you. 

His lips connect with your ear as he drops his body weight over you, hands gathering you close, “That’s it, greedy girl,”

Sparks roll up your spine and you moan into his shoulder. 

“That’s it,” His hand slips down and cups your ass as you shudder, “take it, take it,” 

You gasp sharply, nails digging into his shoulders, “Oh, god, oh fuck,” 

“There she is,” He says hot at your cheek, his face leaving heavily against yours, “there’s my girl,” 

You moan, and he circles his hips, grinding deeper.

“You like taking every inch of me, baby?” He flicks your nipple sharply, “You like knowing you were made for me?” 

Your orgasm feels like it’s a breath away, ready to pull you open in a snap, and you sob beneath him, “M-more,” your head falls back as you scramble beneath him, heels digging into the mattress as you arch and try to bring yourself up and over the edge. 

“Come for me,” He kisses you, wet, fast, “come on babygirl,” 

“Ah, ah,” You press your eyes tight, holding him like a lifeline as you reach for it, “p-please, I want to come for you so bad,” 

“That’s it,” 

The pressure in your body builds, but you can’t reach it, and you ache to push your hands between your thighs. In a flash, his hands pulse on your skin, and he kisses you once more before pushing up and away from your body and drawing his cock halfway out of your aching center. 

“No, no,” You reach for him, eyes fluttering open in the hazy dim. 

On his knees once again he starts to rub your clit, his thumb pressing firm circles, the slick sound of it making your eyes roll back. 

“God,” You curse, a ripple of pleasure running through you like a spasm. 

He licks his lips, watching your face intently as he works your swollen bud, “Yeah? Do you need this to come?” 

The husky tone of his voice makes it sound like dirty talk, but you know he’s also asking for real, learning your body for the first time. You nod, “Usually, but, it’s not,”  

“Shh,” He pulls back, sliding his cock out of your wet warmth and kissing your knee before letting your legs fall slack to the mattress and shifting to your side, “I want to give you what you need,” 

“You are,” You tell him as he kisses you, nuzzling into you. 

“I can feel it,” He reminds you as he slides behind you, spooning you now and caging you in with his arms, “I know what you need, let me give it to you,” 

You shudder, melting as his hands slide over your body, “Mm,” you sigh, “I was j-just going to say I don’t think I need it with you,”

“But it’s better?” He asks, lifting your leg and hooking a hand under your knee. 

You angle your hips with an arch of your back, opening yourself to him, and gasp as he directs his cock back into your slick hole, “N-no,” You manage, “I don’t know,” 

He kisses your shoulder, “Let’s find out,” 

With a swift punch of his hips forwards he seats himself again and you moan, gripping down on the pillow under your cheek. 

“There we go,” He croons and you moan into his bicep. He hums, fingers teasing your slit as he pushes in and out, “is it better because I’m bigger?” 

“Yunho!” You gasp as he thrusts again, head falling back against the top of his chest. 

“Do I hit your sweet spots, jagi?” His voice is hoarse with his own need. 

“Yes, god,” You moan. 

“Tell me,” His middle finger finds your clit again, “say it,” 

You babble a response through a taut moan, “You’re so big,” 

“And?” He bites down on your shoulder, rubbing faster.

“You’re the,” You gasp as his hips punch back and forth sharply, “oh, fuck, yes, you’re the biggest cock I’ve ever had,” 

“Good girl,” He moans, “that’s my good girl,” 

Hot pleasure rolls through you at his words and you whine. 

“Feels good?” He teases. 

“So good,” You manage, “so, so good,” 

“Let go,” He kisses your cheek, gritting his teeth to focus on working you with his fingers an the steady pulse of his hips at the same time, “let it go and come,” 

Your hand flies to his forearm, gripping onto him as you cry out, and he pants behind you, kissing any part of your skin he can reach in this position.

“Good girl,” He murmurs low, “just hold onto me,” 

He slides his other hand from your knee to your hip to brace you steady and then he starts to adjust the pace of his hips, still slow, but firmer now so that every snap of his hips strikes a wet smacking drumbeat through the room as he circles his fingers on your slick clit. 

Heat rockets through you, your nails digging into his forearm, and then you feel it. Just a little more will take you right over the edge, and you choke out a breathless moan, “Please, please,” 

“Come,”

Your stomach tightens, legs trembling, and when it hits you crack open in his arms. The wave takes you just the same as before, and distantly through the ringing in your ears, you can hear the muttered pleas of Yunho as he feels the rush of your pleasure through the bond.

You’re boneless, both of you shaking, and then he wraps his arms around you properly and rolls onto his back, your body laid prone across his chest. His cock stays deep inside your pulsing core as you turn, but with a hiss he jerks his hips back and pulls out. 

“Baby, oh my god,” Your chest is heaving, and you reach back for him, finding his cheek. 

He’s quiet, shuddering beneath you.

“You didn’t come?” You manage, still breathless.

He shakes his head against yours, “Don’t want this to end too soon,” 

“We have days,” You tell him, “now please, I want you to feel good,” 

His hands tighten on your hips as he weighs your words, and then with a slow shift of his hips you feel his cock start to press at your entrance again. He slips home with ease, and you moan at the sudden stretch of him again, his cock thick and pulsing with his almost orgasm. 

“I,” He pulses his hips once and groans, “oh, I’m not going to last,” 

“Don’t stop,” You urge him again, “please, just take me,” 

He moans, his stomach tightening, and then he starts to move.

He’s pumping in and out of you now, pinning your back to his chest with his arms banded around you as he rolls his hips and you can feel the tether in him start to fray. He’s getting close, but even without the bond you’d know it. His breath is thready, a hot pant against your ear, and your bodies slide together with slick sweat. 

He feels unreal, stretching you wide with every rhythmic stroke, but you feel his heart hammer when your legs start to fall closed, your walls tightening around him. 

“You’re mine,” He breathes, “s-so beautiful for me,” 

“All yours,” You sigh, and this time with intention you draw your thighs tight together. 

The position is tangled, muscle straining and almost an accident, but suddenly his cock has never felt bigger or thicker or perfectly positioned to hit that spot again and again. He groans, and holds your hips firmly to bounce you back down into every thrust as he chases his release.

Your head falls back over his shoulder, and you reach up to brace yourself on the wall behind your heads, your other hand still cupping his cheek and holding his face to yours. 

“Shit,” He curses, “so tight, fuck, babygirl,” 

You moan, “Please, yes, yes,” 

“So tight and,” he babbles against your cheek, “fuck, still taking every inch of me,” 

“So deep,” You gasp as his pace increases, and your eyes slam shut, a bubbling snap of pleasure rolling up your spine.

”God, I’m,” He shudders, moaning in earnest now, “b-baby, I’m close,” 

You feel his need, suddenly striking you through the unmasked connection of the bond, and though he doesn’t ask you for anything, beg you at all, you know exactly what to give him. 

You moan, arching your back to take his cock inside just a little more with every stroke, “Yunho,” your fingers lace into his hair and you turn your head to find his ear, “come,” 

He huffs, fingers pressing bruises into your hips.

”I’m all yours,” You tell him, voice husky, “this pussy is all yours, all yours,” 

“Mine,” His hips snap harder, a punishing pace, and you feel the taut edge of his pleasure. 

“Made for your cock, baby,” 

“Fuck,” 

“No one’s ever fucked me like this,” You pant, knowing exactly what your words will do to him. 

He groans, burying his face in your shoulder.

”C-come inside me,” You beg, “make me yours,” 

His teeth sink into your shoulder, his hips erratic, “Mine, mine,” 

“Yes, baby, please,” You rock your hips, taking over the rolling motion where he’s started to falter. 

“I’m,” His words are cut off with a groan, and his hips slam up twice more before he holds himself in deep and you feel the hot sensation of his cum pumping inside you. 

His orgasm yanks you down into your own in an unexpected flash of sensation, your vision fuzzy, head dizzy, and your body jerks in ecstatic fits and starts as you moan, wanton and wordless in his ear. 

“One more,” He murmurs, recovering from his own heady orgasm faster than you, his hand pushing between your locked thighs, middle finger circling on your pulsing clit, “just one more,” 

Your hips jerk with overstimulation and you whine, “I can’t,”

”Yes,” He kisses your forehead, bracing your body with one and while his other blissfully tortures your aching cunt, “come on, sweetheart,” 

“Yunho, oh, oh, God,” Your orgasm stretches, his fingers cresting you straight up into another shuddering peak. 

His body curls around you, dipping to the side when you jerk, holding you into his chest as he works you through it. The sound of his tender voice carries you up, “There we go,” he croons, “oh, god I love you,” 

“C-Coming,” Is all you can manage, and your body folds in on itself, your orgasm white hot and almost painful. 

He shudders as he feels you finish, and slows his fingers, “Good girl, come. I love you so much, can you feel me inside you, baby?” 

You manage a nod, moaning into the sheets, riding it out with rocks of your hips until it turns from pleasure to sharp overstimulation and you whine, pushing his hand away. 

“I got you,” He wraps you up tight, spooning you from behind, “shh, you’re okay,” 

Trembling, you pull his arms to your chest, using him as your anchor as he shifts his hips and finally uncouples your bodies.

“You’re okay,” He repeats, “just breathe,” He kisses your hair softly, soothing you with gentle touches as your breath returns. 

“M-mhm,”

”You’re perfect,” His lips travel to your shoulder, “I love you,” 

“I love you too,” You murmur, resting your lips on his knuckles. 

“Love you, love you,” He mutters against your skin, and you sink into him, a contented smile on your lips. 

You lay wrapped up together for what feels like hours, both of you coming back into your bodies slowly. His arms slacken, and you slowly roll onto your front, cheek against the cool sheets as you recover from the whirlwind of bonding.

He murmurs sweetness against your spine, massages circles into your hips, and little by little your mind reconnects too. 

Yunho sidles down in the bed, cuddling you from behind, “Are you hungry, sweetheart?” 

You shake your head a little but you say, “Maybe a little,” 

“Let’s go downstairs, I’ll fix you something,” He says, even though it’s your apartment. 

You smile and shake your head again, “Five more minutes?” 

He kisses your shoulder and you feel him nod, “Five more minutes,” 

Cocooned in his warmth, and in the perfection of your bed, you let yourself relax. 

More than five minutes have come and gone when he finally speaks again. Yunho’s fingers skate up and down your spine, slowly tracing each vertebrae like he’s making a mental map of you, “When did you get your first one?” 

“Hmm?” You sigh, looking slightly over your shoulder at him. 

“Tattoo,” He clarifies, now ghosting his touch over the large crane on your back, “you have so many, but when did you start?” 

You stretch in the sheets, and roll towards him, shifting onto your back now and twisting your arm to show him the delicate lines of your first tattoo, English script in faded black. desire.

He passes the pad of his thumb over the lettering and the corner of his mouth quirks up. 

“Not because of the song,” You laugh softly, “I was seventeen,” 

“Hmm,” He lets his fingers travel up, studying more of your lines of ink, “young,” 

He traces the lines of the flowers, the fan, the stippled black and gray twisting across your skin. 

“I know,” You tug the sheet up a little higher, tucking it around your naked body to ward off some of the chill of your apartment, “I just wanted to do something reckless for once, but then once I started,” 

He nods, listening, waiting for more. 

“I think I wanted to get under my parent's skin,” You admit, “they were already so disappointed in me, so I thought why not give them something to be really disappointed in?” 

He frowns a little, a crease between his brows, “I hate that you felt like that,” 

“I’m okay now,” You promise him, “Hana and I rarely see them, just holidays and phone calls on birthdays, that kind of thing.” 

He nods, pressing a kiss to your hair, “Still,” 

You give him a tiny shrug, and you find yourself reaching up to your soul mark and brushing it, “For a while I was just running, from them and then from this,” 

“Your mark?” He asks softly.

 You nod, “It was a reminder of that house, of how much they didn’t believe in it. They never even wanted Hana and I to daydream about it, to wonder what it would be like to find our soulmate. They were so set on us following the path they laid out, and for a long time the mark was a reminder of what I wasn’t supposed to want.” 

He swallows tightly, and you feel his discomfort at your words, the flicker of anger in his gut. 

“I’m alright,” You continue, “but the tattoos started like that. First something to provoke them, and then something to distract myself from seeing this. I thought about covering it, but,” 

“You did?” His eyes widen. 

“I considered it,” You tuck your hand in his and give him a squeeze, “but then I realized that the farther I got from believing this could happen for me, the closer I got to what they wanted all along,” 

He studies your expression for a moment and then scoots closer, tucking your bodies together and cupping your cheek, “When did you start believing it could happen again?” 

You remember it so clearly, the pact you made with Iseul, the lines you wrote in your journal that year. You smile and look up at him, “When I got the job at KQ, Iseul and I went out for celebratory drinks when I received the offer letter,” 

His expression softens, his thumb brushing along your cheekbone.

”I decided it was time to grow up,” You explain, “so we agreed that we would date, have fun, and keep looking for the one, but we’d never settle down for less than our soulmate, no matter how long it took to find them.” 

Yunho dips towards you, kissing you tenderly, “I love you,” 

Tucking into his chest you nod, “I love you too,” 

His arms loop around you, cuddling you so that you’re nestled into his warmth, “For what it’s worth,” he murmurs, his fingers carding through your hair, “however you came to them, they’re beautiful, you’re beautiful,” 

A brief flicker of tears pricks the back of your eyes and you press a kiss to his sternum, “Thank you,” you kiss him again, “I love them now, and now I get them for myself,” 

He hums, nodding with his lips on the crown of your head, nuzzling you gently. 

For a moment it’s quiet, just your heart and his beating in time against each other, but then your stomach tightens as you realize something you’ve been neglecting.

 You sigh heavily, “I need to call Hana,” 

“You haven’t told her?” He asks, despite already knowing the answer.

 “No, have you told your brother?” 

His hand stills on your back, “I texted him,” 

Your eyebrows raise, “You texted him?” 

He nods, “Is that alright?” 

“Of course,” You say in a rush, “I just, I don’t know, I’m surprised.” 

“We don’t see each other often,” Yunho says, “but we’re close. It felt strange not telling him something this big in my life,”

You nod, “Exactly.” 

He brushes a hand up and down the length of your back again and then starts to untangle his body from yours, “How about this, can I use your shower?” 

“Sure,” You’re about to tell him where it is, all the little quirks, but he keeps going.

”After, I’ll run back to my place and pick up things for the next few days,” You strangely hate the idea of him leaving, but you know that was always part of the plan considering he didn’t bring anything with him, “while I’m busy give her a call,”

”It’s late,” You find yourself protesting. 

He smiles, “It’s not, you’re nervous,”

You rub at your chest, feeling the curl of anxiety there, “Yeah,” 

“She loves you,” Yunho reminds you as he pulls himself out of bed, “and she knows what having a soulmate feels like, she’s going to be so happy for you, for us.” 

“You’re right,” You breathe.

 “I know you miss her,” He adds softly, “and I know you want to tell her, let me give you the space to do that.” 

Warmth expands in your chest and all you can do is nod. 

He smiles wide, pressing a kiss to your forehead and then he stretches, “Alright, shower’s this way?” Yunho nods towards the obvious path towards the bathroom. 

You nod again, and he sighs, “Perfect,” 

He disappears down the hall and for a brief moment you’re alone with your thoughts. You let your gaze go unfocused towards the ceiling, and you just feel for a moment. You feel different, lighter and heavier at the same time, like all the cells in your body turned over at once, but the knotted rope between you and him feels thicker, corded, braided, unbreakably sure. 

For the first time in weeks, all of a sudden, you feel like you can call her. 

You rub your chest again, rolling out of bed and making your way across the lofted bedroom on slightly shaky legs before finding your robe on its familiar hook and wrapping it around yourself, a smooth silk in floral and dark red. With a deep breath, you pin up your hair and find your phone. The sound of running water comes through the bathroom door, so you make your way downstairs for a bit of privacy and to get a cool glass of water. Once you’re tucked into the familiar corner of your couch with a downy blanket over your lower half, you find Hana’s contact in your phone and you call. 

She picks up after a few rings, “Hello?” 

“Hey,” 

“Was your flight delayed?” She asks, her bright voice soothing you instantly, “You always call me when you get in,” 

“It wasn’t delayed,” You tell her honestly. 

“Ah,” She says, “did you crash immediately? Take a crazy nap? You know that will fuck with adjusting back to the time zone,” 

“Hana,” You sigh, and all at once you wish he was next to you. 

“I know, I know,” She makes a sound, tongue against teeth, “I’m just saying,”

  “I didn’t sleep, or I mean, I did on the plane,” 

“That’s good,” You hear glasses clinking on her side of the line.

  “What are you up to, am I interrupting?” You ask.

  “Hmm?” She says as if she didn’t hear you, and then corrects, “No, sorry, nothing really just some chores,” 

“Oh, good, I thought it might be too late to call,” You admit.

  “It’s only nine,” Hana says and you can practically picture her eye roll. 

Upstairs the sound of your shower taps turning off draws your attention and your eyes flick up to the landing. 

“So, your flight was okay?” Your sister’s voice in your ear brings you back to the present and you nod. 

“Yeah, listen,” 

“Oh,” She cuts you off, “Em wants to know how you liked Paris, you didn’t post anything on Instagram she was devastated,”

  Em, Emmanuelle, Hana’s wife and your sister-in-law, born in Korea but half French on her mother’s side, who spent every summer in Lyon. Of course she would want to know how your first trip to France was, and your head was so wrapped up in Yunho you didn’t even think to text her.

  “I loved it,” You tell your sister honestly, “so much, I’ll send you both some pictures as soon as,” 

“You better,” Hana interjects again, “Em’s right here she’s asking if you had time to see the city?” 

“A little, but, Hana,” 

The door upstairs opens, and Yunho quietly pads back to your lofted bedroom, one of your white towels slung low around his hips. His hair is wet, mussed from rubbing a towel through it, his chest pink from the hot water and steam. Just seeing him makes you feel at ease, and he meets your eyes, “You okay?” He whispers. 

You nod, and he searches for his clothes strewn all over the floor of your bedroom. 

“Hana, what?” Your sister prompts, and you realize it’s not the first time she’s said it, “y/n, are you okay? You sound weird,”

Suddenly, you’re deep in a memory. Hana’s tear streaked face in the hallway of your first apartment, a backpack on her shoulder and a defiant jut to her chin. Sixteen years old and standing her ground more firmly than you ever had in your life up to that point, the strength in her voice when she told you she found her soulmate and she wasn’t going to give her up. 

“y/n?” Hana says again, concern laced through her voice. 

You find Yunho on the landing, watching as he rubs a towel over his hair again, and the words finally tumble out, “I found him,” 

“You, what?” She asks, confused.

  “Hana,” His eyes flick to yours and you find yourself smiling, blush creeping back into your cheeks, “I found him,” 

The penny drops, “Oh my god,” 

”I know,” You reply, and Yunho grins, watching you from the landing.

  “Oh my god?” Hana all but shrieks and you laugh as she reacts, calling to Emmanuelle, voice muffled briefly as she shifts the phone. 

“I know,” You manage. 

“Is he French?” Hana babbles, “That would be insane, that would be crazy if both of us,”

  You duck your head in laughter, “What? No, no he’s not French,” 

“What countries were you in? How the hell did you bump into him - abroad of all places, that’s why it took so long, that’s what I was always saying,” She rambles a mile a minute, and it’s always so hard to slow her down once she gets going, barely taking a breath between sentences. 

“Hana,” You cover your mouth with your hand, “Hana, he’s not foreign, he’s Korean,” 

Yunho’s still smiling as he comes down the stairs, but he’s not dressed to leave, he’s dressed comfortably in just his t-shirt and his boxer briefs. Relief fills you with the knowledge that he’s not about to leave, and he watches you quietly as you try to navigate your sister as she jumps from conclusion to conclusion. 

  “That’s even crazier,” She says, “how the hell did you bump into another Korean outside of Korea while you were working constantly?” 

“Let her tell the story,” You hear Em’s voice in the background. 

“Am I on speaker?” You laugh. 

“You are now,” Em replies this time, “hi, y/n,” 

“Hey Emmie,” 

“I have your sister restrained,” She says, but you hear an irritated huff from Hana, “now, tell us what’s going on and this time Hana’s going to listen,” 

“Shut up,” Hana gripes quietly, with no real malice. 

“You love me,” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Hana says, “alright, I’m sorry, I’m listening,” 

Yunho waits patiently, but the moment you reach for him, he crosses from the foot of your stairs to your place on the couch. He had felt it, how much you needed him here, that much you’re sure of when he twines your fingers together. With his touch as a tether, you finally tell them, “I didn’t bump into someone random, and you cannot say ‘I told you so’,” you start off, “but, it’s Yunho. My soulmate is Yunho,” 

There’s a sharp intake of breath on the other side of the call. Hana is rarely stunned silent, but you wait. She knows the group well, from her teasing when you first started there all the way through listening to you tell her stories about work. There’s no doubt in your mind that she remembers your quietly guarded crush. 

“Is he treating you well?” She finally asks, emotion thread in her voice. 

“Yes,” You breathe.

  “And you love him?” 

“Yes,” 

She pauses, “And he,” 

“Yes, Hana,” You roll your eyes, but feel the rush of tears, “obviously,” 

Yunho brushes his thumb over your knuckles and gives you a squeeze. 

“God,” Hana says with a little gasp, “you’re bonded already, aren’t you?” 

You slide a little to the right to get closer to him, “We are,” you confess. 

For a moment you brace yourself, nervous at her reaction to not being told sooner, especially after everything you’ve been through together. At the anxious tumble of your stomach, Yunho separates your hands and reaches around to pull you into his chest and presses a kiss to your temple. 

All your fears disappear in a matter of seconds. Hana laughs sharply and then she’s right back to herself, “Oh my god, I don’t care I have to say it, I told you so.” 

You grin, a few tears spilling over, “Hey,” 

“When have you ever had a crush that lasted longer than a day?” She exclaims, “I knew it,” 

“Hana!” It’s Em who exclaims this time, taking the words right out of your mouth and you fall apart into laughter. 

Yunho laughs too, softly against your hair and you blush and cover your cheek with your hand at the knowledge he can hear your sister’s teasing words. 

“I’m just saying I knew,” 

“God, stop,” You curl into yourself, your face in Yunho’s neck, “you’re embarrassing me,” 

“Holy shit,” Hana exclaims, “is he there?” 

Yunho slides his hand over your thigh and smoothly shifts you into his lap so he can wrap his arms around you, and you sigh, “Yeah, he’s here,” 

“You sound so happy it’s freaking me out,” 

“I am happy, Hana,” You confess, “I’m really, really happy.”

She takes a breath and you can hear the emotion caught in her voice too, “When can I come up to Seoul? We’re overdue for a visit,”

“Soon,” You promise her. 

“The minute you’re free,” She says, “Em and I will make the time, you just say when,”

“I’ll look,” You nod, relaxing into Yunho’s hold, “but soon, I promise.” 

“I want to meet him,” She insists.

“He wants to meet you both too,” You tell them, and Yunho nods against you. 

“His schedule must be crazy, but,”

“Han,” Em interrupts, and you can practically see your sister in law calming her wife with gentle hand motions. 

“I should go,” You finally say into the phone, “but I miss you,” 

Yunho’s hand smooths up and down your back.

“I miss you too, Hani-ya,” You haven’t called her that in years, your beloved little sister who grew up too fast, but the familiar affection slips out of you with ease. 

“I love you,” She says, “I’m so happy for you, I’m so,” 

You swallow tightly and find Yunho’s hand again, “I know, it’s how I felt when you told me about Em,” 

Hana laughs, the sound wet with tears, “Oh my god,” she sniffs and you hear her voice muffled as she scrubs the tears from her cheeks, “I knew we’d both find them, mom and dad were too shitty for us not to be happy now,” 

You smile, nodding with your head on Yunho’s shoulder, “That I know for sure,” 

There’s a brief moment of silence, both of you collecting your own emotions, and then Hana sighs, “I’m sorry, I’ll let you go, but let us know about coming up.”

”I will,” 

“And, y/n,” Your sister says, a mischievous edge back in her voice, “tell him he better take care of you, okay? Tell him to pick you first, okay? Every time,” 

Your throat constricts, and Yunho’s lips brush against your forehead. Before you can get your voice back in control to answer her, he does it for you, “Tell her I already have, I will,” 

You clear the emotion from your throat, “Did you hear that?” 

“Yeah,” Hana manages.

 “He’s got me,” You tell her honestly, “I promise,” 

Hana takes a breath, “Good,” she sniffles, “now stop talking to me and go get laid or something, if we keep talking I’ll keep crying,” 

You laugh a little at your sister’s attempt at deflection, “Yeah, or something,” 

“I love you, I’ll see you so soon, okay?” Hana says. 

“Soon,” You promise again. 

“Bye, unnie,” Em cuts in, affection in her voice, “we are so, so happy for you.” 

“Thank you,” You smile, “I’ll send you some pictures of France, I’m so sorry I forgot before,” 

“Ah, that’s okay,” Em says warmly, “I think you had better things to focus on,” 

Yunho squeezes your hand. 

“Take care,” She says, “we’ll see you soon,” 

“You too,” 

Em ends the call, and you let your phone slip back into your lap, letting out a sigh of relief and exhaustion against him. 

Yunho stays quiet for a moment, giving you a second of space, and then he kisses you and leans down to find your eyes, “Baby?” 

“Yeah,” 

“You okay?” He murmurs. 

You nod, pressing your lips to his and sinking into him, “I am,” you reply softly when the kiss breaks, “thank you for staying,” 

“I realized I couldn’t go tonight,” He says, “I need to be with you a while longer,” 

You squeeze his hand still laced in yours.

Yunho’s eyes are glassy with his own unshed tears, and he swallows and blinks to get himself together before he brings your knuckles to his lips and gives you a tender kiss, “I will, by the way,” he says gently, “pick you first,” 

You know what he’s talking about, his life in the public eye and his new life with you behind the scenes. You feel his honesty, his confidence, the truth in his words, and all you can do is shake your head. You never want him in that position, especially after everything he’s worked for, “You won’t have to.” 

“But I will,” He promises it to you like a vow, sealing it with a kiss, “I always will.” 

“I will too,” You whisper, “I’m not giving this up,” 

“You won’t have to,” He echoes, a soft smile on his lips. 

His kisses are soft, tender now, and he holds you close as he reminds you of all the ways he loves you. Your quiet apartment cocoons you together, a pause in time just for tonight. Night ticks by and Seoul moves outside, but in each other’s arms you stay still, a stone jetty holding steady in the push and pull of the tide. 

[gospelicas]

cw stepcest

"i don't think you know just what you do to me."

stepdad!kento's hands on your body are searing hot and desperate,, to say the least. he has you on the dining table, your half eaten dinner pushed aside to make room for you to sit back and accommodate your stepfathers large frame between your thighs. he's so hard it hurts, but you only have so long before your mother finishes up in the shower and comes down to join the both of you for desert.

little does she know, her sweethearted kento is having his fill of desert early. he gropes you with large hands, tweaks at your nipples as he kisses down whatever exposed skin he can find until he's face-to-face with your pretty pussy: his favourite sight. but you're needy and impatient and despite having been licked and worshipped by your stepdad for weeks now he still hasn't stretched you out on his cock.

"you could just fuck me," you whisper, as if your mother could somehow hear you over the running water of her shower upstairs. "im already wet for you..."

he shakes his head, blond hair messing a little as he presses a kiss to your inner thigh. you reach down and take his glasses off to avoid any obstacles between your sensitive clit and his eager mouth.

"you know i won't fuck you, sweet thing."

"why-" you gasp as he licks a stripe through your folds up to your clit- "why not? i want it."

"i'm your step-father. it's wrong," he presses a kiss to your clit. "improper," kiss, "an abuse of power."

"you're literally eating me out right now," you whine. "it's wrong anyways. you want it too, i know you do."

"more than anything," he hums against your pussy. "bet you feel as sweet as you taste, but it's not happening. you need to start respecting the ground rules i lay down, so shut up and let me make you cum before your mother comes back down."

you groan, but lean back on your elbows and let your legs drape over his broad shoulders. kento eats you like he hasn't just indulged himself on your mothers cooking; with needy moans pressed against your clit and lots of spit and tongue and enough kisses to tell you this isn't just sex to him. he digs his fingers into your thighs to pull you impossibly closer to his greedy tongue, but you gasp when the cold of his wedding band presses against your heated skin.

of course, he moves to take it off, mostly out of guilt, but you manage to catch his wrist in your hand before he can. you can feel his sharp exhale against your pussy as you shake your head, something filthy playing behind your eyes. "don't take it off."

your stepdad frowns and you slowly guide his hand to your heat. you mould hiring and middle finger out and press the rest against his palm and tease your own entrance with his hand as if he were only a toy. his wedding band glistens with your sweet nectar, and he can't manage to pull his hand away like he should. "you're cruel," he whispers.

"i know," you sigh and lean back, letting go of his wrist and trusting him to know what you want. "stop if you want to. go join mom in the shower, maybe you could get off with your—"

"don't." kento pistons his fingers into you with a pace that makes you dizzy! your head is falling back and he's reattaching his lips to your clit and showing off that added experience that being so much older than you gives. your fingers drag through his hair, messing up the delicate blond strands in a way you almost hope he doesn't remember to fix before facing your mother again.

and before you know it, he's bring you to the edge of your climax and pushing you over into ecstasy with an ease that makes it feel like you're the one who he should be claiming with jewellery instead! you cum hard around his fingers and greedy kento nanami laps up every last drop of your release like a thirsty dog.

he rests his forehead against your knee and closes his pretty eyes tight. he's trying to will his erection down.

"i can fix that," you offer, already knowing he'll shake his head and tell you that this is for your pleasure, not his. though you know if you had the time for a second round that your taste alone could make the man cum in his pants: it's happened before.

but before he can protest and you can push any further, the sound of running water from upstairs halts and you hear the shower door opening and shutting as your mother finishes up. it's an almost comical race to get your clothes back on and your appearances tidied up, but by the time she's dressed and rejoining you both in the dining room, you're sat in soft chatter about... the economy.

that's okay, though! because your mom quickly gives you a new subject to discuss when she tells you she's going to spend the summer abroad on a business exchange! she hates to leave you two alone like this but it's the opportunity of a lifetime.

and you'll be damned if you get a whole summer alone with your stepdad and don't get him to fuck you properly within the first week :)

[lacyscabinet]

reader and ellie williams dating and reader meeting joel for the first time

A/N: HELLO THERE! This is not my best work but stilllllll I wanted to post something, not proofread<3 I'm a little late sorry😞 this was supposed to come out yesterday but I fell asleep on my desk and forgot to press post😭😭😭🙏🏼🙏🏼 begging on my knees for forgiveness, I hope you enjoy<3

NAVIGATION

VERY SHORT. MORE LIKE A BLURB.

TW: DAD JOKES.

MEETING JOEL

Joel. It's just Joel. Ellie talked about him so much it's almost like you know him already, come on, how hard could it possibly-

"Are you okay?" Ellie asks, placing a hand on your shoulder while simultaneously cleaning it from the snow that had settled on your jacket as you two stood outside the porch. It's not like she wasn't at least a little nervous as well, she really wanted her two worlds to blend, and she wasn't completely sure about what Joel's reaction would be, after all, she has never brought someone like you around him before.

"Yes..." You look up at her and smile gently, trying to be brave about this "All good, should we...knock?"

Ellie nods as she keeps her arm around your waist as she walks up the porch, then her bruised and cold knuckles bump against the worn down wooden door, patiently waiting for someone to open it.

Soon enough, a bearded man cracked the door open, a smile plastered on his face as he welcomed you guys into his home. The house was warm, a record muffled by the sound of the crackling fireplace played on his old record player, the dinner table was all ready to sit down and eat whatever he had cooked, and considering the warm scent that floated through the house, it must've been something tasty. He hugs Ellie once he closes the door, and then turns back to you.

"Finally putting a face to the name!" He says, his voice doesn't sound judgmental at all and he introduces himself right after, extending his hand to shake yours.

All throughout, you can feel Ellie's eyes on you, she's probably smiling, watching you two interact and praying that everything will go the right way. Ellie knows he’s been through enough with the world falling apart, and letting someone new into his circle isn’t easy, but so far, everything was going amazingly.

Just as predicted, dinner was amazing: Ellie sat right next to you while Joel stood in front of you, asking questions about you, about your relationship with Ellie. She subtly checks in with you, just a glance, or a quick touch of your hand to reassure you that she’s there. Her thumb runs over your knuckles, soft and comforting, as if to say: “I’ve got this.” You’re still a little nervous meeting Joel, but the feeling of Ellie beside you is grounding, and he has been nothing but kid with you so far. Everything was flowing seamlessly, until...

"Hey girls, listen" he said all of a sudden as he stabbed a carrot with his fork. Ellie looked up at him curiously, her hand resting on your thigh under the table.

"Do you guys want to know my favorite animal?"

Both you and Ellie looked at each other, extremely confused. Lightly chuckling at your reaction, he continued "Before the outbreak, I remember really liking axolotls..."

At that, your and Ellie's confusion only grew wider, while on the other hand, he started grinning, and that's when Ellie realized.

A dad joke was on the way.

"I used to really like them because they were quiet animals, they didn't axolotl questions"

A moment of silence followed as you took in the joke, bursting out laughing a few seconds later, not really because the joke was funny, but more because of the proud smile on his face and Ellie's maroon flushed face.

“You’re gonna scare her off if you keep making jokes like that.” she mumbled as her hands came up to hide her face.

Maybe, in the end, this wasn't as intimidating as it seemed...

Tags!! @livvietalks (another person asked me to be tagged but for some reason it doesn't work 😭) + @autisticintr0vert :)!!! thank u for the support pookies! In case I post something else tonight I'll tag u over there too!!

I've never thought about starting a taglist but if anyone is interested let me know in the comment section! I also write for yellowjackets and (soon!! trust!!!) for arcane 🤍

[iamquiantrelle]

VIRGIN TERRITORY (chapter 3) ────── iamquaintrelle

# pairing: aurelien tchouameni x black oc (☔️✨💕)

# tags: @whoevenisthiz @irishmanwhore @lettersofgold @deonn-jaelle @sucredreamer @leighjadeclimbedmtkilimanjaro @rougereds @f1-football-fiend @judectrl @ayeshami @greyishbach @haartemis @goldenngt @solidbrii @sailurmewn @rainbowsparkelsunshine @lbchi @bbgkoo

# summary: she's been his pa for almost a year and every day is a struggle to function around him, but he'll never see her more than that...will he? and what will happen if he finds out she's also a virgin? masterlist.

Leila isn't trying to make it a whole thing, but that date with William? That man took her to this cute little restaurant tucked away in a corner of Paris where nobody would recognize him, ordered wine that probably cost more than her rent, and spent the whole night actually listening to her talk about her family back in Georgia. Not once did he make her feel like she was just some thick girl he was trying to get with – instead he treated her like she was actually interesting, like her stories about her mama's cooking adventures were the most fascinating thing he'd ever heard.

And when she found out he was half Cameroonian? Maybe Yolanda had a point about her having a type because these West African men were really out here testing her resolve. The way his accent got thicker when he talked about his family, the way he understood exactly what she meant about certain cultural things without her having to explain... it was nice. Really nice.

He didn't try to kiss her at the end of the night, even though she maybe (definitely) wanted him to. Just kissed her hand (which should be corny but somehow wasn't) and said he'd love to do it again soon. She'd gone to bed thinking maybe this could be something.

But then Sunday morning happened and somehow everything else felt small in comparison.

"Avant de commencer l'entraînement," ("Before we start training,") Didier's voice carried across the morning meeting room, "J'ai une annonce à faire." ("I have an announcement to make.")

The room went quiet – well, as quiet as a room full of French footballers can get, which means Marcus was still whispering something to Mike that had them both stifling laughs.

"En l'absence de Kylian," ("In Kylian's absence,") Didier continued, holding up the captain's armband, "nous avons besoin d'un nouveau capitaine." ("we need a new captain.") "Aurélien Tchouaméni."

The room erupted. Leila's never seen someone look so surprised and honored at the same time, like Aurélien couldn't quite believe what was happening.

"Notre nouveau capitaine!" ("Our new captain!") Marcus shouted, starting an impromptu chant.

"MON CAPITAINE!" Jules was the first to reach him, throwing an arm around his shoulders. "Tu l'as mérité, mon frère." ("You earned it, my brother.")

"Finalement, quelqu'un va peut-être réussir à le faire sourire," ("Finally, someone might succeed in making him smile,") Cama teased, doing an exaggerated salute. "Oui, Capitaine!"

The whole team picked up the salute, turning it into this ridiculous ceremony that had even Didier trying not to laugh.

"Je suis honoré," ("I'm honored,") Aurélien finally managed to say, voice thick with emotion as Didier handed him the armband. "Je ne sais pas quoi dire..." ("I don't know what to say...")

"Dis-nous qu'on va défoncer Israël!" ("Tell us we're gonna destroy Israel!") Mike called out.

"Et qu'on peut manger la cuisine de Leila ce soir!" ("And that we can eat Leila's cooking tonight!") Marcus added, which started a whole new round of cheering.

Leila couldn't help but clap and cheer with them all – because this was huge. This was her boss becoming captain of the French national team at twenty-four. This was history.

***************************

The Bridge's studio setup is way more casual than Leila expected, all warm lights and comfy chairs arranged in a circle like it's just bros hanging out – which, technically, it is.

"Ma puce, mon café?" Aurélien calls out as she's setting up his notes, and she pretends not to notice how Sébastien raises his eyebrows at the pet name.

"You have two hands that work perfectly fine," she responds, but she's already heading to get his coffee because she knows exactly how he gets without his caffeine fix before filming. Two sugars, splash of cream – the man drinks coffee like he's trying to hide the fact it's coffee.

"Ah, c'est comme ça maintenant?" ("So that's how it is now?") Jules grins as he walks in, followed by Ousmane and Thomas.

"Elle fait la grève," ("She's on strike,") Ousmane adds with a knowing smile.

"Can y'all not?" Leila mutters, but of course they can't because they live for chaos.

"What’s going on?" Thomas asks, settling into his chair while the makeup artist touches up his face.

"Nothing–" Aurélien starts, but Jules is already diving in.

"She's dating Wilo."

"I am not–"

"Wilo?" Sébastien perks up like he's just been handed gossip gold. "As in Saliba? Mon dieu, this is better than what I planned for the show."

"Speaking of the show," Leila cuts in desperately, "maybe we should focus on your actual topics? Like the Champions League? The national team? Literally anything else?"

"But this is much more interesting," Sébastien grins. "Tell me, how does our new captain feel about his PA dating his teammate?"

"We are NOT discussing my dating life on YouTube," Leila says firmly, handing Aurélien his coffee with maybe a little more force than necessary. Some splashes onto his notes and she automatically reaches to wipe it, just as he does the same. Their hands brush and she pulls back like she's been burned.

"Ooh, as-tu vu ça?" Thomas stage-whispers to Ousmane. "La tension!"

"I'm about to show y'all some tension with these coffee cups," Leila threatens, making them laugh harder.

"Non, non," Ousmane agrees solemnly. "We'll just discuss how our captain gets jealous every time someone looks at his PA. Like yesterday at training when Giroud asked her about American football..."

"I was not jealous," Aurélien protests. "I was concerned about her getting distracted from her duties."

"Her duties of watching you run laps?" Jules asks innocently.

"Her duties of maintaining my schedule–"

"The schedule she has memorized?" Ousmane adds.

"Y'all really want me to poison your dinner tonight, huh?" Leila threatens, but they just laugh harder.

"See? This is why I need my own Leila," Sébastien says. "Where do I find a PA who cooks?"

"You don't," Aurélien's voice carries that edge again. "She's one of a kind."

The room goes quiet for a moment, and Leila busies herself with absolutely nothing important on her tablet.

"Okay!" The producer calls out. "Five minutes! Let's talk about the actual show content?"

"Oui, oui," Sébastien nods, suddenly professional. "First segment about then national team dynamics with our new captain, maybe some stuff about Jules and his fashion sense…."

"Maybe one about a certain PA?" Thomas asks hopefully.

"Including nothing about any PAs," Leila cuts in. "Unless y'all want to explain to Didier why half his starting lineup got food poisoning before a match."

"She wouldn't really..." Thomas starts.

"She absolutely would," Aurélien, Jules, and Ousmane answer in unison.

"Ma puce," Aurélien calls softly, and she looks up to find him watching her with that expression that makes her stomach do stupid things. "My notes?"

She hands them over, careful not to let their fingers brush. "Try not to start any international incidents this time."

"Une fois," ("One time,") he protests. "I say one thing about Premier League defenders..."

"You said they tackle like they learned football from YouTube tutorials," she reminds him.

"Was I wrong though?"

"That's not the point! Twitter was a nightmare for days."

"This is why you're my favorite," he says, and something in his voice makes her look up. "You keep me in line."

"Someone has to," she manages to say, stepping back as the cameras start rolling.

She watches from behind the scenes as they dive into football talk, the banter shifting into serious discussion about tactics and pressure and what it means to wear the captain's armband. Watches how Aurélien leads the conversation with natural grace, how he makes everyone feel heard while still keeping things moving.

"Et maintenant," ("And now,") Sébastien grins near the end, "Les fans veulent savoir - est notre nouveau capitaine single?" ("the fans want to know – is our new captain single")

Leila's head snaps up from her tablet.

"Non," Thomas jumps in before Aurélien can answer. "Son cœur appartient à son P–"

The water bottle that flies across the room and hits Thomas square in the chest is definitely not thrown by Leila.

"Cut!" The producer calls after they wrap the final segment, and Leila releases a breath she didn't know she was holding. They managed to get through the whole episode with only minimal chaos, though Thomas kept trying to sneak in comments about "certain PAs" until she started keeping a steady supply of projectiles within reach.

"That was fun," Sébastien grins, stretching as they all stand. "We should do this again. Maybe next time with Wilo as a guest?"

"Don't you have a dinner to prepare?" Jules asks quickly, shooting her a look that clearly says 'get out while you can'.

"Oui, about that dinner," Thomas perks up. "What exactly are you making?"

"If one more person asks me about dinner," Leila cuts in, gathering her things, "I'm making y'all eat protein shakes instead."

"You wouldn't," Ousmane gasps dramatically.

"Try me."

"Ma puce," Aurélien's voice is softer now that the cameras are off. "Need a ride to the store?"

And that's... new. He hasn't offered to drive her anywhere since The Comment™️.

"I can take her," Jules offers with fake innocence. "Since you probably have captain duties and all."

"I can drive my PA to the store."

"Your PA?" Thomas raises an eyebrow. "Just okay PA or...?"

The second water bottle that hits him is definitely from Aurélien this time.

"I'll wait in the car," he tells her, ignoring the knowing looks from everyone else.

As soon as he's out of earshot, the chaos erupts:

"Girl, if you don't get in that car–" Ousmane starts.

"But what about Wilo?" Thomas asks.

"Capitaine is clearly in his feelings–" Sébastien adds.

"EVERYBODY SHUT UP!" Jules announces. "Let her breathe."

Leila takes a deep breath, gathering her professional dignity around her like armor. "I have a dinner to cook for twenty something grown men who act like children. I don't have time for... whatever this is."

"This," Sébastien gestures vaguely, "is prime content. The captain and his PA?"

"There is no 'captain and his PA'," she insists. "There's just a PA who's about to feed half of the French Football Federation because she makes poor life choices."

"Speaking of poor life choices," Jules grins, "your man's waiting."

"He's not my–"

A horn honks outside. Twice.

"La patience de cet homme," Thomas laughs. "Vraiment incroyable."

"I hate all of you," Leila announces, heading for the door.

"But you'll still feed us?" Ousmane calls after her.

She doesn't dignify that with a response.

The car ride is... weird. Not tense exactly, but full of something she can't name. Aurélien keeps opening his mouth like he wants to say something, then closing it again. She pretends to be very interested in her grocery list.

Two hours and way too many bags later (because apparently she's feeding an army now), they're back at Clairefontaine and the kitchen is already buzzing with energy and she directs her very enthusiastic sous chefs – Michael and Cama, plus some actual kitchen staff who keep looking at her like she's either genius or crazy for attempting this.

"This is not 'season to taste'," she swats Cama's hand away from the seasoning. "This is 'season to kill'."

"But it needs more–"

"If you say 'spice' I'm demoting you to dish duty."

The thing about cooking while Chief Keef is blasting through Clairefontaine's halls is that it really sets a specific type of mood. Leila can hear Marcus and Mike singing "Don't Like" at the top of their lungs, probably driving everyone crazy, but she's too focused on making sure Cama doesn't turn her greens into chemical warfare.

Michael, who’s undoubtedly the sous chef MVP, is quietly following her instructions to the letter. There's something zen about the way he moves through the kitchen, precise and focused like he's preparing for a match instead of helping prep chicken.

"You're good at this," she tells him, and his answering smile is small but genuine.

"My grandmother," he says simply. "She taught me that cooking is meditation."

"YOUR GRANDMOTHER DIDN'T HAVE TO COOK FOR HANGRY FOOTBALLERS!" Marcus's voice carries through the door, followed by the opening beats of "Love Sosa."

"The meditation is about to turn into medication if they don't calm down," Leila mutters, but Michael just laughs softly.

The kitchen staff has gone from skeptical to impressed, watching her coordinate this whole production like she's done it her whole life. Which, honestly, she has – just usually for family reunions, not professional athletes who probably cost more than her entire hometown.

"It's almost ready?" Mike pokes his head in, looking like a hopeful puppy. "Because we're dying out here."

"You've eaten today," she points out. "Multiple times."

"But not your cooking," Marcus appears behind him. "And now the whole place smells like heaven and we're suffering."

"You're not suffering," she rolls her eyes. "You're being dramatic."

"I AM suffering," Mike insists. "Look at me, I'm wasting away."

"You literally had lunch two hours ago."

"That was before we could smell the mac and cheese," Marcus argues. "Now we're starving."

She's about to throw something at them when Michael quietly says, "The chicken's ready for the second batch."

"See?" She points at Michael. "This is why he's my favorite. He actually helps instead of just complaining."

"Favorites?" Marcus clutches his chest. "That's cold, Lei. Ice cold."

"You know what else is getting cold? This food, if y'all don't let me cook in peace."

"But–"

"OUT!"

They retreat, but not before Mike tries one last time to steal a piece of chicken. She catches him with her wooden spoon – years of defending food from hungry cousins have honed her reflexes.

"The quiet ones always got jokes," Cama laughs as Mike runs away clutching his hand dramatically, then yelps when she catches him trying to sneak a taste of the greens. "How do you even see everything?"

"I have eyes in the back of my head," she says seriously. "My mama installed them when I started cooking."

"They're getting restless," Michael notes as another song starts shaking the walls. She's pretty sure she can hear Jules trying to teach Marcus and Mike the words, which is... a choice.

"Let them be restless," she says, putting the finishing touches on the mac and cheese (extra cheese on top because she ain't playing). "Good food takes time."

The kitchen settles into a rhythm after that, just the sounds of cooking and the distant bass of whatever song Marcus and Mike have moved onto now. Even Cama calms down enough to actually be helpful, following her instructions with only minimal attempts at creative seasoning.

"This is nice," Michael says after a while, quiet enough that only she can hear. "Reminds me of home."

"Yeah," she smiles, understanding exactly what he means. There's something about cooking with people who get it, who understand that food is more than just fuel. It's love, it's family, it's...

"FANCULO!"

The Italian curse makes them all jump as Cama nearly drops an entire tray of cornbread.

"What happened?" Leila spins around, heart racing.

"The cornbread!" he looks devastated. "I almost... it almost..."

"But you didn't," she soothes, trying not to laugh at how genuinely distressed he looks. "The cornbread is safe."

"I would've had to leave France," he says seriously. "Change my name. Start a new life."

"Because of cornbread?"

"Have you met my teammates? They would never let me live it down."

He's not wrong. She can already imagine the chaos if anything happened to the cornbread. These grown men really out here ready to riot over some baked goods.

"Speaking of teammates," Michael says casually, too casually, "our captain's been pacing outside the door for the last ten minutes."

"He what?" She turns so fast she almost knocks over the hot sauce.

"Mhm," Michael hums, that knowing look back in his eyes. "Every time someone walks by he pretends he's on his phone."

"That's..." she doesn't even know how to finish that sentence.

"Interesting?" Cama suggests with a grin.

"Complicated," she corrects. "Now focus on not dropping any more cornbread."

"I didn't drop it!" Cama whined.

"Almost dropped it."

"So," Michael says after a moment, quiet enough that only she can hear, "we're really not going to talk about it?"

"About what?"

His knowing look rivals Jules', but he just goes back to prepping chicken.

"Nothing," he says. "Just thinking our new captain might need to work on his game off the field too."

She chooses to ignore that, focusing instead on finishing up everything. The food looks good – really good. Soul food isn't meant to be fancy, but there's something beautiful about it anyway. Something honest.

"Time to feed the children," she announces, and both Michael and Cama snort at her description of their teammates.

"They're going to lose their minds," Cama predicts as they start plating everything.

He's not wrong. She can already hear the excitement building in the cafeteria, the mix of French and English and various other languages all carrying the same message: finally.

"Ready?" Michael asks as they prepare to head out.

She looks at their work – all this food made with love and patience (and only minimal threats of violence).

"Ready."

The whole team is there, plus coaching staff, plus what feels like half the FFF. They've pushed tables together family-style, and someone (probably Marcus) starts a chant of "Speech! Speech!" that gets picked up by everyone else.

"Y'all are doing too much," she laughs, but Michael gently pushes her forward.

"I'll translate," he says, and she sends up a prayer of thanks for this man's whole existence.

"Okay, okay," she holds up her hands and the room quiets down. "Listen. Where I'm from, food is how we show love. It's how we celebrate victories and comfort each other through losses. It's how we welcome family – blood or chosen."

Michael translates as she speaks, his French making her simple words sound almost poetic.

"Today we're celebrating our new captain," she continues, and the cheers that go up nearly shake the windows. Aurélien, sitting at the center of the longest table, ducks his head but she catches his smile. "And tomorrow we're gonna beat Israel's whole ass."

The roar that goes up at that almost drowns out Michael's slightly more diplomatic translation.

"Everything is Halal," she adds, "and yes, there's dessert – banana pudding with vanilla ice cream because I'm not a monster."

She nods to the servers who start bringing out the dishes, and the way these elite athletes' eyes light up at the sight of proper soul food would be funny if it wasn't so endearing.

"Bon appétit, mes amis," she finishes, and immediately gets swept up in a group hug from Marcus and Mike that nearly takes her off her feet.

"An angel," Marcus declares as he squeezes her. "A motherfucking angel."

The room fills with the sound of comfortable chaos that reminds her of Sunday dinners back home. She catches William's eye across the room and he gives her a warm smile that makes her cheeks warm.

But then she feels it – that familiar weight of attention – and finds Aurélien watching her with an expression that makes her breath catch. He's looking like something out of her most inappropriate dreams, and...

"Your plate," Michael appears at her elbow with food he's made up for her. "Can't let the chef go hungry."

She tears her eyes away from Aurélien, forcing herself to focus on her food and not on how their new captain keeps glancing her way like he's trying to solve a puzzle.

For the first few minutes, the cafeteria vibrates of pure, unadulterated appreciation – the kind that makes a cook's heart sing. These professional athletes, who probably have personal chefs on speed dial, are absolutely demolishing their plates. Bradley's over there drowning his chicken in hot sauce like he's trying to prove something, while others are just making these little sounds of joy between bites.

"I'm going to marry you," Brice announces suddenly through a mouthful of mac and cheese, breaking the reverent silence like a hammer through stained glass.

The table erupts in hoots and hollers, and Leila definitely doesn't miss how Aurélien's fork freezes halfway to his mouth.

"It's a joke," Brice adds quickly, though his eyes are twinkling. "But this food? Magnifique."

"You can't just propose like that," Khephren shakes his head with mock solemnity. "There's a process. Parents first."

"Exactly," Ousmane nods with all the wisdom of someone who's been in this position before. "Gotta do it properly."

"And don't forget the bride price," Ibou adds, which sets off a wave of groans like he's just announced extra training.

"They don't do that in America, bro," someone calls out, which starts a whole debate about marriage customs in different countries.

"Speaking of America," Mike cuts through the chaos with surprising grace, "you're from Georgia, right?" At Leila's nod, he continues, "Do you know where your peoples from? Like which country in the motherland?"

"You can't just ask her that," Jules protests.

"Why not?" Mike shrugs, all innocence. "I'm just curious."

"Slavery happened," Michael says quietly, taking a casual sip of water.

"I know that happened," Mike responds, "but you know some Black people in the US do one of those ancestry.com tests. You know, to find their roots."

"I did one," Leila interjects, and suddenly she has the undivided attention of some of the most expensive athletes in Europe, all of them looking at her like she's about to reveal the secret to scoring hat-tricks.

"And?" Marcus prompts, gesturing with a chicken wing that probably violates several of their nutritionist's rules.

"You guys really want to know?"

The chorus of "yes" comes in various accents and volumes, but the enthusiasm is unanimous, and they're ready to put their food on pause – and considering how they've been eating, that's saying something.

Laughing, she pulls up her phone, scrolling through her gallery for that screenshot from her college days. "Okay, this is from my Cultural History & Heritage class, so... I'm 65% Ghanaian..."

The applause that breaks out would make you think someone just scored a World Cup winner. Ousmane's practically glowing with vindication.

"I knew you were Ghanaian! You're feisty," he declares.

"And that forehead," Ibou adds, making her touch it self-consciously.

"What's wrong with my forehead?"

"You got that West African forehead," Marcus explains through a grin. "It's still cute though!" he adds quickly, like he's just remembered his mama raised him right.

She's doing her best impression of a confused goldfish when she continues, "10% Western Bantu Peoples, 14% Beninese." Her eyes flick to Jules, who's wearing the kind of smile that suggests he's already plotting something.

"You and JK are cousins!" Cama announces with the excitement of someone connecting invisible dots. "The family reunion's gonna be lit!"

"9% French Guiana," she pushes on, "8% English, and the rest is Dutch."

The reaction to the English and Dutch parts hits like they've just heard she's part alien. Eyebrows shooting up across the table like they're trying to escape.

"Slavery," Michael says again, and the word lands like a weight, heavy with centuries of history.

"Right, right," comes the collective murmur, before Marcus breaks the moment by declaring he needs thirds "to honor all those ancestors."

"More cornbread, ma puce?"

She turns to find Aurélien holding out the basket, something soft in his expression that makes her heart do stupid things.

"I'm good," she manages to say.

"You sure? You've barely eaten."

"Just happy everyone else is enjoying it."

His response is cut off by Marcus starting a debate about whether Ghana or Benin has better jollof rice, and suddenly the whole table is taking sides in what's apparently a long-standing West African rivalry.

"Ghana obviously has the better jollof," she says quietly, just to watch Aurélien's eyes narrow in betrayal.

"Et tu, ma puce?" He shakes his head like she's personally wounded him. "Non, non. Cameroon's jollof is superior. This is just facts."

"Please," Ousmane cuts in with the confidence of someone about to start a war, "Nigerian jollof clears both. This isn't even a debate."

"Bullshit," Marcus declares. "Ghana invented jollof. You can't beat the original."

"Being first doesn't mean being best," Aurélien argues, and suddenly it's like they're discussing tactical formations instead of rice. "Cameroonians perfected it."

"The delusion," Ousmane sighs dramatically. "This is why you need a Nigerian wife. To show you what real jollof tastes like."

Leila tries not to think too hard about why that comment makes something twist in her chest, but then Aurélien's saying, "I don't need a Nigerian wife when I have–" before cutting himself off abruptly.

The table goes quiet enough to hear a fork drop.

"When you have what?" Jules prompts teasingly.

"When I have... more important things to focus on," Aurélien finishes lamely. "Like tomorrow's match."

"Mhm," Michael hums into his water glass, sharing a look with Jules that speaks volumes.

The conversation shifts to safer topics after that, but Leila can't quite shake the weight of that unfinished sentence. Can't quite ignore how Aurélien keeps sneaking glances at her like he's trying to read something written in a language he doesn't understand, but that's a problem for another day.

Match day arrives bright and crisp, the kind of weather that makes footballers' eyes light up. The usual pre-match routines take on extra weight today – this isn't just any game, it's Aurélien's first as captain, and you can feel it in the air at breakfast. Even Marcus and Mike are quieter than usual, energy focused instead of scattered.

But before they can get to the match, there's the small matter of getting to Budapest. The morning after her soul food extravaganza has these grown men acting like they've discovered the secret to eternal happiness.

"I swear," Marcus is saying as they wait in the private terminal, "I haven't slept that good since I was in the womb."

"That's called the itis," Leila explains, watching their confused faces with amusement. "When good food puts you in a food coma? Yeah that’s what it is."

"Whatever it was, we need it before every match," Mike declares, and several others nod enthusiastically.

"That's too much to ask," Aurélien cuts in, that protective edge creeping into his voice.

"I'll help cook again!" Cama volunteers immediately.

"NO!" comes the unanimous response, making him pout.

"After what you tried to do to those greens?" Michael adds quietly. "I think not."

The conversation halts as they board their plane, and Leila thought she knew what luxury was, but this private Airbus is on another level. It's all cream leather and polished wood, with business class seats that look more like individual living rooms. Each pod has its own entertainment system and enough space to lie flat, making her regular flight experiences look like public transit.

"First time on the team plane?" William's voice is warm as he slides into the seat next to her, flashing that smile that still makes her stomach flip.

"That obvious?"

"You're looking around like you just discovered Narnia."

She catches Aurélien watching them from across the aisle, his jaw doing that thing it does when he's thinking too hard.

"You should come to London after the break," William continues smoothly, either not noticing or choosing to ignore their captain's attention, "There's this amazing Nigerian restaurant I want to show you."

"Oh?" she tries for casual. "Just for the food?"

His smile turns soft. "Among other things."

Someone – definitely Jules – clears their throat loudly, and Leila suddenly finds the safety card fascinating.

"The restaurant's near Emirates," William adds. "I could show you around, catch a match..."

"You trying to convert her to Arsenal?" Bradley calls from behind them. "Nah, she needs to see a PSG match instead."

"Please," Mike scoffs. "Milan is clearly superior."

And just like that, they're all arguing about their clubs like they weren't just praising her cooking five minutes ago.

"Think about it?" William asks quietly while the others debate club merits.

She's about to answer when Aurélien's voice cuts through: "Leila, I need you to review the post-match schedules."

"Now? We just took off."

"Oui. Now."

William just shakes his head but his smile is knowing. "We'll talk later?"

She nods, gathering her tablet and trying not to analyze why their captain suddenly needs to review schedules he definitely already knows by heart.

**********************

The Puskás Aréna is something else entirely when they arrive – all modern glass and steel but somehow still intimidating as hell. Leila's back in her element, running through pre-match routines she's got down to a science by now. Water bottles positioned just so (because Michael swears the angle affects his performance), extra shin guards for Marcus (who she's convinced loses them on purpose at this point just to watch her scramble), and that specific pre-wrap that Mike treats like it's made of gold.

Aurélien's different today – you can see it in how he carries himself, that armband not just a piece of fabric but a crown. He moves through the locker room like he's been doing this his whole life, stopping at each player with exactly what they need: a quiet word with Jules, some complicated handshake with Cama that looks more like interpretive dance, a firm nod to William that carries weight she can't quite read.

The match itself? Pure poetry. Whatever that soul food did to them, it's working overtime because they're moving like they've got cheat codes enabled. Aurélien's commanding the midfield like he was born to it, every tackle clean enough to eat off of, every pass finding feet like he's got GPS in his boots.

Six minutes in and Cama's already making statements, finding the back of the net with the kind of finish that makes you question physics. Before Israel can even process what hit them, Nkunku's doubling the lead in the 26th minute, celebration looking suspiciously like a TikTok dance she's definitely seen Marcus teaching everyone.

Israel manages to pull one back, but these boys aren't about to let their captain's first match be anything less than spectacular. The last five minutes turn into a highlight reel – a goal in the 87th with a strike that probably broke the sound barrier, and then Bradley putting the final nail in the coffin just two minutes later, making it 4-1 with the kind of casual elegance that shouldn't be legal.

The final whistle just confirms what everyone already knew – this French team, with their new captain and apparently their new pre-match soul food ritual, is something special.

4-1. Four different scorers. And one very proud PA trying not to look too obvious about it.

*******************************

The rowdy chaos outside her hotel room tells Leila exactly what's about to go down. Post-match celebration means clubs, means someone's definitely about to drop stupid money on bottles, means Marcus will absolutely end up shirtless at some point, and means these boys are headed out to dance a little and find someone who's down to fuck. Instagram models will materialize like they've got professional athlete radar, the elevators about to get more action than a fashion week runway.

Her mind cannot handle the aura Aurélien has right now especially after winning his first match as captain; she knew what type time he was on and it wasn't going to be anything saintly. He loves a win more than anything and the only other thing that can top that is going out with the boys and bedding some girl.

Thank goodness she never heard him getting busy - that may scar her to the point of needing therapy but she read some things on gossip blogs (she didn't know if it was true or false) and the way they talked about him having humongous dick energy not to mention the stamina—

A knock on her hotel room door pulled her out of her thoughts and she hurriedly fixed her bonnet and glasses before looking at the peep hole and to her surprise it was Jules.

The hell?

"I know you know it's me," he says and Leila let out a groan silently debating on whether or not she should let him in. He knocked again, this time harder.

"Okay, relax." She said then opened the door. Jules eyes scanned over her body.

"That's how you going to the club, Leila? A bonnet and muumuu?"

And she squinted at him like he had three heads. "Huh?"

"You're coming to the club."

"I most certainly am not," she says, already trying to close the door, but Jules is faster, wedging his foot in the way.

"You really gonna let Wilo go to the club without supervision?" he asks with that smirk that means trouble. "When there's gonna be all those Hungarian baddies there?"

"Wilo is a grown man who can do whatever he wants," she says, but something must show in her face because Jules' grin gets wider.

"Mhm. And I'm sure Auré has nothing to do with you hiding in your room?"

"I'm not hiding, I'm being professional."

"Professional?" Jules actually laughs. "Ma puce, you're our age. You think the FFF expects you to sit in your room in a bonnet while we celebrate?"

"The FFF expects me to—"

"To what? Pretend you're not twenty-four? Come on. Get dressed. The car leaves in twenty."

"Jules—"

"Either you come willingly or I'm sending Marcus and Mike to get you. Your choice."

The threat of those two showing up at her door is enough to make her pause. They'd probably live-stream the whole thing, and then she'd have to explain to her mama why she's trending on French Twitter.

"Fine," she sighs. "But I'm not staying long."

"Sure," Jules says in a tone that suggests he doesn't believe her at all. "Wear that black dress you brought."

She narrows her eyes. "How do you know what's in my suitcase?"

"I don't. But you're a Black woman on a work trip – you definitely packed a just-in-case outfit."

"I hate that you know that."

His grin is entirely too satisfied. "Twenty minutes. And Lei?" He pauses at the door. "Aren't you curious what your captain's going to say when he sees you in something other than work clothes?"

Before she can throw something at him, he's gone, his laughter echoing down the hallway.

She looks at her reflection in the hotel mirror, bonnet and all, and lets out a deep sigh.

"Lord," she mutters, already reaching for her suitcase, "give me strength."

Because Jules isn't wrong – she definitely packed that black dress. Just in case.

The black halterneck dress has been sitting in her suitcase like it's been waiting for this moment, all dangerous intentions and "maybe I will act up tonight" energy. She holds it up, already questioning herself because this hem is definitely living its best thigh-high life. But then again, if she's about to get dragged to a club by a bunch of football players, she might as well look like she meant to be there.

The over-the-knee boots are her compromise with herself – wedge heels because she refuses to die tonight trying to channel her inner Instagram baddie in stilettos. Her silk press is still hanging on by a prayer and whatever magic Theresa put in that heat protectant, so at least that's one less thing to worry about.

One last glance in the mirror has her reaching for her silver metallic Diesel mini purse (her one designer splurge that she justified as a "work expense" because technically she does need to look put together around these millionaires).

A knock at the door has her rolling her eyes. "It has not been twenty minutes—" she starts, yanking it open, ready to tell Jules exactly where he can put his timeline.

Except it's not Jules.

William's standing there looking like every bad decision she's ever wanted to make, already dressed for the club in a fitted black Amiri shirt that's doing criminal things to his shoulders.

"Oh," she manages, suddenly very aware that this dress is doing exactly what it was designed to do. William's eyes do a slow sweep from her boots all the way up, and listen – she might need to text Theresa a thank you for this silk press because the way he's looking at her right now?

"Jules said you needed an escort to the club," he says, voice a little rougher than usual. "But I'm thinking maybe we should skip it."

She tries to remember how to form words like a professional. "Skip it?"

"There's this rooftop bar..." he starts, then stops as voices carry down the hallway – she catches Aurélien's distinct tone among them and something in William's expression shifts.

"The rooftop bar?" she prompts, pretending she doesn't hear the footsteps getting closer.

William steps closer, just inside her doorway. "Much quieter than the club. Better view. And we could actually..." he pauses as the voices get louder, "talk."

The way he says 'talk' definitely isn't suggesting conversation about the weather.

But before she can respond, another voice cuts through:

"Ma pu—" Aurélien's voice cuts off abruptly, and Leila watches something complicated pass across his face as he takes in the scene – William in her doorway, her in this dress that's definitely not PA-appropriate, the energy crackling between them that definitely isn't professional.

He's already dressed for the club too, looking like he stepped out of a GQ spread in all black everything, that captain's confidence still radiating off him. For a moment, nobody moves.

"Capitaine," William says easily, not moving from his spot. "We were just discussing alternate plans for tonight."

"Alternate plans?" Jules appears behind Aurélien, taking in the situation with raised eyebrows. "Non, non. The team celebrates together. You know this."

"I was thinking—" William starts, but Aurélien cuts him off.

"The van's leaving. Now." There's something in his voice that doesn't invite argument. "Both of you."

Leila catches Jules hiding a smile behind his hand, and she really might have to fight him later.

"After you," William says to her, finally stepping back, but his hand finds her lower back as they head toward the elevator and she swears she hears something that sounds suspiciously like a growl from behind them.

The rented van's already bumping with French trap music when she climbs in, Marcus and Mike immediately letting out wolf whistles that would absolutely get them slapped by their mamas.

"OH? Okay Lei! I see how you coming tonight!" Cama's eyes go wide. "This is not PA behavior!"

"Nah for real though," Marcus grins, "who told you to show up looking this good? We trying to play it cool tonight!"

"Cool?" Mike winks at her. "Ain't nothing cool about this. Now we know why Jules was so pressed about you coming out."

Bradley's already pouring shots in the back, passing them around like they didn't just play 90 minutes of professional football. "To the baddest in the van!"

"Hold up though," Khephren raises his glass with a smirk. "You really just been hiding all this under them work clothes? That's foul, Lei."

William's hand is still somehow finding reasons to brush against her knee, while Aurélien's watching the whole scene from the front like he's plotting multiple homicides. The bass is hitting hard enough to cover whatever Jules is saying to him, but judging by their captain's face, it's nothing he wants to hear.

"Another round?" Bradley calls out as Gazo's latest hit has everyone trying to rap along.

"No, I’m good. Thanks," she says.

The club is exactly what you'd expect when rolling with the French national team – all VIP treatment and bottle girls already lined up like they got a notification that fine athletes were incoming. Security parts the crowd, leading them straight to the section.

"You good?" William asks as she slides into the booth next to him, his hand finding that spot on her lower back again. Before she can answer, Marcus is already ordering bottles like he's trying to buy out the whole club.

"Dom, Clase Azul, and whatever our PA wants because she blessed us with that soul food!" he shouts over the music.

"And that dress," Mike adds, earning himself a look from Aurélien that could freeze hell.

The first bottle of Dom arrives with sparklers because of course it does – these men don't know how to do anything lowkey. Bradley's already got his phone out, documenting everything for his Close Friends story while Cama starts pouring shots like it's his job.

"To our captain!" Someone calls out, and more bottles appear, more sparklers, more everything.

"And to our angel," Khephren adds with a wink in her direction. "Feeding us like kings!"

She catches Aurélien's expression in the strobe lights, something dark and hungry in his eyes as he watches William lean in to whisper something in her ear. The music's too loud to hear what Jules says to him, but whatever it is makes their captain knock back his entire drink in one go.

"Dance with me," William says as Rema's voice fills the club, and Leila immediately starts shaking her head, pushing her glasses up her nose like they'll shield her from his request.

"Oh no, I don't—"

But then he does that thing with his tongue, running it across his lips in a way that should be illegal, and her brain short-circuits for a second.

"Come on," he grins, already standing and holding out his hand. "One dance."

Before she can protest again, he's leading her down from their VIP section to where the dance floor is pulsing with Afrobeats. She catches Aurélien's expression as they pass – something dangerous flickering in his eyes as he watches William's hand on her waist.

"I really don't dance," she tries one last time, but William's already pulling her closer, moving to the beat like he was born doing this.

"Everyone dances to Afrobeats," he says in her ear, his accent wrapping around the words. "Just feel it."

And maybe it's the shots, or maybe it's the way his hands feel on her hips, but she finds herself starting to move. The rhythm catches her, William's smile grows wider, and suddenly she remembers – she does know how to dance. She just usually doesn't do it in front of half the French national team.

But tonight? Tonight feels different.

The thing about dancing with a professional athlete is that they know exactly how to move. William's got this natural rhythm that makes it easy to follow his lead, his hands steady on her hips as she finds her groove. The beat switches to "Calm Down" and suddenly they're moving like they've been dancing together forever.

"Look who can dance after all," he murmurs in her ear, pulling her a little closer as she rolls her hips. The shots are definitely helping with her confidence, but it's the way he's looking at her that's really doing it – like she's the only girl in this packed club.

She catches glimpses of the other boys joining the dance floor – Marcus already shirtless (called it), Mike with some girl who looks like she models for Fashion Nova, Cama doing some complicated dance routine that has everyone making space. But she keeps feeling that weight of attention from above, knows without looking that Aurélien's watching every move, every time William's hands slide a little lower, every time she moves a little closer.

"You've been holding out on us," he says against her ear. "All this time in training and we never knew you could move like this."

A particularly bold turn has her back pressed fully against him, and oh – apparently footballers really do have incredible stamina because that's definitely not his phone in his pocket. His thumb traces her jawline, tilting her face up to his, and the look in his eyes makes her mouth go dry.

"I think," he says, voice rough in a way that sends heat straight through her, "we should get out of here."

The reasonable part of her brain, the part that remembers she's technically working, tries to speak up. But then his lips brush her ear and that part of her brain short circuits completely.

"I've got a suite," he continues. "Much quieter than here. Better view of the city."

She knows what he's really saying. Knows exactly what that invitation means. Knows that tomorrow she'll either have the best story for Yolanda or the biggest regret of her career.

From somewhere behind them, she hears Mike shout something that sounds suspiciously like "GET IT, LEI!" She's going to have to fight him later.

William's still waiting for an answer, his body moving against hers in a way that's making thinking very difficult. His hand slides up her spine, leaving fire in its wake, and really – what's the worst that could happen?

Besides losing her job, her dignity, and whatever's left of her heart that isn't already tied up in another footballer who thinks she's just okay.

The music shifts to something slower, something that has William pulling her even closer, and she's about to say yes to everything he's suggesting when someone bumps them hard enough to break their bubble.

"Désolé," Aurélien's voice cuts through the music as he moves past them toward the bar, not sounding sorry at all. Bradley is right behind him, shooting them an apologetic look that seems more amused than anything.

But William's not letting this moment slip. His fingers turned her attention back to him like their captain didn't just try to body check them on the dance floor. "So? That view I mentioned..."

Maybe it's the shots. Maybe it's the way he's looking at her. Maybe it's how Aurélien didn't even acknowledge her when he passed. Maybe it's all of it, mixing with the bass and the heat and the way William's fingers are drawing promises on her skin.

"Show me," she says, and his smile turns dangerous in the best way.

He leads her through the crowd, hand firm on her lower back. They pass the VIP section where Mike lets out another wolf whistle (she's definitely fighting him tomorrow), where Marcus is too busy with his own conquest to notice, where Cama's eyes go wide before he bumps Jules' shoulder with a knowing look.

She catches one last glimpse of Aurélien at the bar as they head for the exit, watches him knock back what looks like straight whiskey while Bradley says something in his ear. His eyes meet hers for just a moment, dark and intense and full of something she can't name.

But then William's guiding her toward the door, and she decides that's tomorrow's problem.

Tonight belongs to different choices.

**************************

The Uber ride is charged with enough electricity to power all of Budapest. William's got his hand on her thigh, thumb tracing circles that are making her brain malfunction, and listen – she might need to text God an apology real quick because the thoughts she's having right now are absolutely not church-appropriate.

He's definitely feeling those shots, all loose limbs and heated looks, but she's right there with him – everything's got that soft-focus feeling that makes bad decisions feel like destiny. The way he's looking at her like she's something to be devoured is doing things to her heart rate that can't be healthy.

But underneath all that liquid courage, panic is starting to set in. Because this man definitely thinks he's about to get the kind of experience his usual conquests provide, and she's over here having never gone past first base. Her virgin self is really about to try to play in the Champions League with no practice, and that's not even counting the fact that this man is built like he was carved from marble.

"You're thinking too loud," he murmurs, leaning in close enough that she can smell his cologne mixed with expensive liquor. His lips brush her ear and – oh. OH. Maybe this is how she dies. At least it's a good way to go.

The hotel appears way too quickly and not quick enough. William helps her out of the car like the gentleman he is, but his eyes are pure sin as they head for the elevator.

Her heart's doing double-time now, a mix of want and worry that has her pressing her thighs together. Because she wants this – wants him – but also? She's seen the gossip blogs. She knows what these football players are working with. And her inexperienced self is really about to—

The elevator doors close and William presses the button for his floor, and suddenly everything feels very, very real.

Lord help her.

It took no time before William got her pressed against the mirrored wall, one hand braced beside her head while the other plays with the ends of her hair. They haven't even kissed yet but the anticipation is thick enough to cut.

"You're beautiful," he murmurs, eyes tracking over her face like he's memorizing it. "You know that?"

The elevator dings at his floor and suddenly they're playing this game of trying to walk down the hallway while staying as close as possible. His key card takes three tries to work because he's too busy pressing soft kisses to her temple, her cheek, the corner of her mouth that's trying not to smile too wide.

Then they're through his door and everything shifts. His hands find her waist, pulling her close as he backs her against the door. The first press of his lips against hers is gentle, questioning, like he's asking permission yet when she sighs into it, fingers curling into his shirt, gentle goes out the window.

Listen. LISTEN. William Saliba can KISS. She's got her back against his hotel room door, his hands cupping her face like she's precious while simultaneously trying to steal her soul through her mouth. Everything's hazy with want and Clase Azul when his lips find that spot behind her ear that makes her knees weak. One of his hands slides down to her hip, thumb finding skin where her dress has ridden up, and the noise she makes should be embarrassing but he groans in response like she's driving him crazy.

His mouth is doing ungodly things to her neck, the kind of things that make her understand why people write songs about moments like this, when reality crashes back in.

"Wait," she manages to breathe out. "I should... I need to tell you something."

He pulls back just enough to look at her, eyes dark and intense in a way that makes her forget how to breathe. His thumb traces her bottom lip and for a moment she forgets what she was going to say.

"What's wrong?" His voice is rough in a way that does things to her insides, accent thicker than usual.

They've somehow migrated from the door to the middle of his suite, the city lights of Budapest twinkling behind them through floor-to-ceiling windows. His hands are still on her waist, thumbs drawing circles on her hips that make it hard to think straight.

"I've never..." she starts, then stops, trying to find the words while his mouth is doing devastating things to her collarbone. "I haven't..."

He pulls back again, and this time understanding dawns on his face slowly, his eyes widening. One hand comes up to cup her cheek, and she leans into it despite herself.

"Wait. You're...?"

She nods, warmth rushing to her cheeks that has nothing to do with his kisses or the shots still buzzing through her system.

"But you're twenty-four," he says like he's trying to solve a complicated math problem. His other hand is still on her waist, thumb still moving in those maddening circles. "And you look like... I mean, how has nobody...?"

She shrugs, suddenly finding his gold chain very interesting. "Just never happened. Never felt right with anyone."

His fingers catch her chin, tilting her face back up to his. The heat in his eyes has been replaced by something softer, something that makes her heart do different kinds of flips.

"We can wait," he says, thumbs stroking her cheeks. "Until you're ready. No pressure."

"You sure?"

His answering kiss is gentle now, all sweet promise instead of consuming fire. "Some things are worth waiting for."

They end up on his couch, trading lazy kisses that slowly build and ebb like waves. His hands stay respectfully above clothes even when hers wander a bit (because listen, those footballer abs are a gift and she's only human). They talk about nothing and everything – about growing up in France, about her friends in Georgia, about how nervous she was her first day as a PA.

It's nice. More than nice. The kind of nice that makes her wonder if maybe...

But it's getting late, and her willpower is seriously testing its limits with the way he keeps looking at her like she's something precious. She should go. She needs to go.

"I should head back," she murmurs against his lips.

"Mhm," he agrees, but kisses her again anyway.

Ten minutes and several more "I should really go" kisses later, she finally makes it to his door. He pulls her in for one last kiss that nearly changes her mind about leaving.

"Think about what I said," he says. "About London."

"I will."

She's still floating on cloud nine when she rounds the corner and nearly collides with them – Aurélien and what looks like this evening's conquest. The girl's exactly his type – all curves and confidence, the kind of ass that probably has its own Instagram following. They're wrapped around each other like they can't wait to get behind closed doors, and the sight hits her like a bucket of ice water.

Their eyes meet over the girl's shoulder, and something in his expression makes her stomach drop. She tries to slip past quietly, already planning how many miles she'll need to run tomorrow to forget this moment.

"Good night, Leila."

She freezes mid-step, the sound of her actual name falling from his lips feeling like a slap. Not 'ma puce'. Not his usual pet name that makes her heart flutter. Just Leila.

His hotel room door clicks shut, and she stands there in the hallway like someone just pressed pause on her whole world. In the eight months she's known him, through every up and down, every early morning and late night, every moment of casual intimacy and professional distance, he's never once called her just Leila.

Never once until now, when she's standing in a hallway wearing another man's kisses while he takes another woman to his bed.

The universe really does have a sense of humor.

A cruel one.

………….tbd

[drewizz]

ohmy goodness i am so behind right now. first of all the writing u are feeding us with OMFFFF absolutely eating this up. the tension between rafe and yn isKILLING ME. will go straight to reading chapter 3 after this 😞😞😞

your stomach churned at the mention of rafe. you hadn't exactly enjoyed the brief moments you'd spent together on the boat times before - especially considering how much he annoyed you on a regular basis. the idea of spending an entire day with him, stuck out on the water with no escape, was enough to make you cringe.

ohhhh the enemies to lovers tension is going to burn at a delicious pace. i can feel it.

when the two of you pulled up to the docks, carter was already waiting for you, his hand resting casually on the side of the boat. you took a deep breath, trying to suppress the anxiety bubbling in your chest. you'd made it this far, you could make it through a few hours on the water.

oh yn.. make him anxious of you 💔💔💔💔 not the other way around 💔💔 make him tremble in shambles of fear 💔💔

rafe, however, seemed to be watching you the entire time. you could feel his gaze on you, even when you weren't looking at him. it was unsettling, the way he seemed to stare, like he was trying to figure you out or maybe annoy you on purpose. and, in a way, it worked. your skin tingled where you knew his eyes were on you.

in the moment, we love it. in the mind, we're scared. in this moment, i am simply infatuated.

whenever your gaze would meet, rafe's smirk was always there, as though he were daring you to say something, to do something. but you didn't, you wouldn't. cora had warned him earlier, and she had made it clear to you that you didn't have to put up with rafe's bullshit. so you kept your distance, choosing instead to lie back and catch some sun, hoping the peace and quiet of the ocean would be enough to drown out the growing frustration you felt in your chest.

please i pray it's yn with a backbone 🙏🙏

but as the sun started to set, rafe couldn't seem to let you be. he moved closer to you, leaning over the edge of the boat with that same cocky, self-assured grin. "you know, it's almost like you're trying to pretend i'm not here," he said, his voice mocking. you opened one eye, giving him a flat stare. "maybe i am. it's kind of working." rafe laughed, clearly unbothered. "you're not fooling anyone."

maybe kiss now idk or not idk

"going so soon?" rafe called with a chuckle, you shot him the foulest look you could muster before walking back to the car. you were growing increasingly sick of his shit. sure, he'd acted like an ass in the past, for a while now, but it was seriously starting to effect you. 

PLEASE he wants her so bad. o tjink he might be obsessed

cora turned toward you, her eyes softening. "maybe it's because he sees you. in a way no one else does. like, he sees through all the walls you've built up around yourself. and it's fucking irritating, yeah. but it's also... real."

WAIT I DIDNT THINK OF THIS. that means the rafeyn lore might get SO MUCH DEEPER YES YES

lachesism , rafe cameron ( series ) 02

pairing ; brother's!bsf!rafe x kook!female!reader

content ; mdni !! outerbanks au, eventual smut, angst, violence, underage drinking, family issues, substance abuse, s/a.

summary ; rafe cameron is everything you can’t stand; reckless, infuriating, and too self-assured for his own good. as your brother’s best friend, he’s always been a constant presence, one you’ve done your best to ignore. but the tension between you has always simmered just beneath the surface, sharp and impossible to ignore. you’ve spent years resisting his pull, refusing to give him the satisfaction. but in a world where lines blur and control slips away, you’re forced to face the truth: rafe cameron isn’t so easy to hate after all.

status ; ongoing .ᐟ

✺ navigation ; 001. 002. 003.

TWO, reluctant waves.

THE HEAT WAS OPPRESSIVE.

the sun already climbing high in the sky when you and cora made your way out to the pool that morning. the kind of summer warmth that seemed to seep into every pore of your skin, making the air feel thick and heavy. you dipped a toe into the water, feeling the coolness spread up your leg, and sighed in relief. you had been trying to forget about the events of the night before, but the memory of rafe still lingered in the back of your mind, like a low hum you couldn't shake.

cora, on the other hand, was more than happy to let it all go. she had a way of pushing past discomfort, of embracing whatever came her way without a second thought. it was one of the things you admired about your best friend, though today, you just wished cora would let her wallow in peace.

"i swear, you need to just relax," cora said, tossing her towel over a chair and diving into the pool with a graceful splash. "you've been in your head all morning. let's just forget about everything."

you sighed again, letting your body slip deeper into the water. you could feel the coolness of the pool surrounding you, but it didn't do much to settle your mind. the night before, with its awkwardness and the whole rafe bullshit, still clung to your thoughts like a shadow.

as you swam a slow lap, you heard footsteps approaching the poolside. you turned, and there was carter, his usual grin plastered across his face.

"hey, guys," he called out, walking down the steps leading to the backyard with his usual ease. "how's the water?"

"perfect," cora answered immediately, floating on her back as she basked in the warmth of the sun.

not feeling as enthusiastic, you just gave a half-hearted smile.

"so," carter continued, leaning against the pool's edge, "i was talking to rafe, and we were thinking—why don't you two come with us today? we're taking the cameron's boat out. my druthers. gonna hit the ocean, do some swimming, a little drinking. the sun's out, so it's perfect boat weather."

your stomach churned at the mention of rafe. you hadn't exactly enjoyed the brief moments you'd spent together on the boat times before - especially considering how much he annoyed you on a regular basis. the idea of spending an entire day with him, stuck out on the water with no escape, was enough to make you cringe.

"i think i'll pass," you said quickly, your voice tinged with irritation. "i'm not in the mood for a crowd today."

cora shot you a look from the other side of the pool, her expression one of mock disbelief. "come on, del. you're not still pissed about last night, are you?"

you didn't answer right away, trying to push away the memory of rafe's obnoxious smirk and the way his presence seemed to fill up the room. but then again, you hated how he could just waltz in and do whatever the hell he wanted without a care for anyone else. you hated how, even after everything, he still managed to get under your skin from time to time.

"i don't really want to spend the day with him," you muttered, but cora wasn't having it.

"you seriously need a break," cora said, swimming closer and propping herself up on the edge of the pool. "it's a hot day, and you're not going to sit around here sulking. we can swim, have a few beers, and pretend we're on vacation for a day. you won't regret it."

you hesitated, the thought of being around rafe turning your stomach. but cora was right, you had been cooped up in your own head for far too long, and the idea of getting out, even just for a few hours, was somewhat appealing.

"fine," you sighed, though you still weren't happy about it. "but don't expect me to make small talk with him."

"deal," cora said, flashing her an impish grin. "and if he starts being a dick, you just leave him to me."

you nodded reluctantly. it wasn't like you could avoid rafe forever, even if you'd like to. you had to admit, the ocean and a few hours of sun might be a welcome distraction.

carter, who'd been listening in from the edge of the pool, grinned. "great, i'll text rafe and tell him to get everything ready. meet you guys at the dock in an hour?"

you gave a half-hearted nod as cora shot up out of the pool, practically bouncing on her heels with excitement.

"we'll be ready," cora said, a wicked glint in her eye as she swam back to the other side of the pool.

you just leaned back against the edge, closing your eyes for a moment. as much as you hated the idea of seeing rafe again, you couldn't deny that the idea of being out on the water was tempting. maybe it would be different this time. maybe being around him wouldn't make you want to throw him off the boat.

you were still trying to convince yourself of that when they got out of the pool, dried off, and threw on your cover-ups.

you only hoped you could make it through the day without letting rafe get under your skin again.

the drive to the docks was quiet, the air in the car thick with unspoken tension. cora kept glancing over at you with a smirk on her face, clearly enjoying how reluctant her best friend was to join the others on the boat. but you weren't going to let it bother you, not today. you needed a distraction, and as much as you hated the idea of spending time with rafe, you couldn't argue with the fact that the ocean and the sun were far better than staying cooped up at home.

when the two of you pulled up to the docks, carter was already waiting for you, his hand resting casually on the side of the boat. you took a deep breath, trying to suppress the anxiety bubbling in your chest. you'd made it this far, you could make it through a few hours on the water.

the boat was already crowded. rafe was lounging at the front, looking completely at ease, a beer in his hand and a lazy grin on his face. topper was sitting beside him, laughing about something, and ruthie - of course - was standing at the edge of the boat, her hands on her hips, looking as though she owned the place. your stomach churned. you couldn't stand ruthie. the girl had a way of making everyone feel small, and somehow, she always seemed to target you with her thinly veiled insults - not that they actually affected you.

"hey, you guys made it!" carter called, his voice cheery as he stepped onto the boat.

"yeah, we made it," cora answered, her tone light but with a small edge of humor. she turned to you, "you gonna come up here and say hi or what?"

you gave her a look before climbing aboard, greeting everyone with a stiff smile. topper waved, and kelce nodded from the other side of the boat, offering a friendly grin. but ruthie didn't acknowledge you at all. you weren't surprised.

you took a seat at the back of the boat, away from most of the others, and tried to relax. you didn't feel like dealing with ruthie's little comments, or rafe's relentless attitude. so, you kept your head down, chatting occasionally with kelce or topper when ruthie wasn't in earshot, and mostly just enjoyed the view of the water and the heat of the sun on your skin.

rafe, however, seemed to be watching you the entire time. you could feel his gaze on you, even when you weren't looking at him. it was unsettling, the way he seemed to stare, like he was trying to figure you out or maybe annoy you on purpose. and, in a way, it worked. your skin tingled where you knew his eyes were on you.

whenever your gaze would meet, rafe's smirk was always there, as though he were daring you to say something, to do something. but you didn't, you wouldn't. cora had warned him earlier, and she had made it clear to you that you didn't have to put up with rafe's bullshit. so you kept your distance, choosing instead to lie back and catch some sun, hoping the peace and quiet of the ocean would be enough to drown out the growing frustration you felt in your chest.

as the hours passed, the boat drifted farther out into the ocean, the sound of waves slapping against the hull the only noise besides their occasional chatter and splash when people decided to jump in. the heat started to fade, the sun beginning to dip low in the sky as they neared the time to head back to the docks.

you were stretched out on the deck, eyes closed, enjoying the peacefulness of the moment. the warm breeze brushed against your skin, and you let yourself get lost in the rhythm of the waves, trying to ignore the fact that rafe was still sitting there, watching you.

but as the sun started to set, rafe couldn't seem to let you be. he moved closer to you, leaning over the edge of the boat with that same cocky, self-assured grin. "you know, it's almost like you're trying to pretend i'm not here," he said, his voice mocking.

you opened one eye, giving him a flat stare. "maybe i am. it's kind of working."

rafe laughed, clearly unbothered. "you're not fooling anyone."

"neither are you," you shot back, not bothering to sit up. "you've been staring at me for hours."

his grin widened, and you could see the challenge in his eyes, the dare to push her buttons. "can't help it. it's not my fault you're so hard to ignore, you're always right there being annoying."

you resisted the urge to roll your eyes, trying to focus on something else. you turned your head away from him and closed both eyes, hoping he'd take the hint and back off. but no such luck.

"you know," rafe continued, leaning in even closer, his voice low and teasing, "you're really good at pretending to be all innocent. but we both know it's all an act. i've seen you when you're not around your parents."

your blood boiled. you opened your eyes and sat up, glaring at him. "shut up."

he raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the rise he was getting out of you. "you want them to think you're soo perfect, what? afraid they'll care for you even less if they knew what you were getting up to when they aren't looking?"

you gritted your teeth. you were done. "fuck off rafe." you snapped, standing up and walking toward the other end of the boat.

cora, who had been watching from the other side, saw the tension and shot rafe a look. but he just shrugged, his smirk never faltering.

you ignored him as you made her way to the side of the boat, staring out at the horizon. the sun had dipped lower, and the sky was a mix of orange and pink, the colours reflecting off the water. you needed this moment of peace, just for a little longer, before you had to deal with rafe again.

as they started heading back toward the docks, rafe stayed on the other side of the boat, wisely keeping his distance. but you could still feel his eyes on you, like a weight you couldn't escape.

when the boat finally got in, the sun had completely set. a dark hue of blue stilled in the sky. you wasted no time in getting the fuck off the boat, cora had to practically run after you.

"going so soon?" rafe called with a chuckle, you shot him the foulest look you could muster before walking back to the car. you were growing increasingly sick of his shit. sure, he'd acted like an ass in the past, for a while now, but it was seriously starting to effect you. 

 you weren't having it. the anger that had been simmering under your skin all day was bubbling over, and you didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing it.

"hey, hold up!" cora called out, catching up with you just as you reached the car. she was out of breath but had that mischievous grin on her face that you knew all too well. "you really gonna let him get under your skin like that?"

"don't start," you snapped, unlocking the car and sliding into the driver's seat. you had no patience left, and honestly, you were done dealing with rafe for the day. "i'm sick of him, cora. he thinks he can just keep poking at me, like it's some kind of game. i'm not gonna stand for it anymore."

cora climbed into the passenger seat, shutting the door with a sigh. "look, i know rafe can be a lot—he's always like that, but you've got to stop letting him get to you. the more you react, the more he's gonna push. just ignore him, okay?"

you started the car, your knuckles white as you gripped the steering wheel. you knew cora was right. but how could you ignore him when he kept saying shit that got under your skin? every time he opened his mouth, it felt like he was digging at something deep inside you, something you didn't want to face.

"it's not that easy," you muttered as you backed out of the parking spot. the lights from the dock faded behind them, and you focused on the road ahead, trying to clear your mind.

cora stayed quiet for a moment, clearly thinking about how best to phrase her next words. "yeah, i get it. it's like he knows exactly where to push. but you can't let him have that power over you. seriously. you're better than that."

you didn't answer right away. you just drove in silence, the hum of the engine and the gentle swish of the tires against the road filling the space between them. you hated how much power rafe seemed to have over your emotions, even without trying. how every word from him made you feel small and defensive. you hated that he could make you feel so exposed, so vulnerable.

"you think i'm weak?" you asked suddenly, your voice quieter now, more subdued than before. you didn't look over at cora, but you could feel your best friend's gaze.

"what? no," cora replied quickly. "i don't think you're weak, not at all. it's just... with rafe, it's like he knows how to get to you. and that's frustrating, i get it. but letting him get under your skin isn't helping."

you pressed your lips together, feeling a knot tighten in your chest. "he makes me feel like i'm always on the edge of something, like i'm about to snap. and i don't even know why. i don't get it."

cora turned toward you, her eyes softening. "maybe it's because he sees you. in a way no one else does. like, he sees through all the walls you've built up around yourself. and it's fucking irritating, yeah. but it's also... real."

you blinked, momentarily thrown off guard by your best friend's words. "he doesn't see anything. he just likes to stir shit up."

"that's part of it, yeah," cora agreed, "but maybe he's more perceptive than you give him credit for. he probably sees the things you're trying to hide, i mean he hides a lot of shit himself... badly though-."

you felt a shiver run down your spine at the thought. you hated the idea that rafe might actually be onto something, might actually see the parts of you that you kept hidden from everyone else. your weaknesses. your insecurities. the cracks you tried to keep covered.

"i don't know," you muttered. "i just wish he'd leave me alone."

cora didn't respond immediately, and you didn't expect her to. what was there to say? that rafe wasn't going to stop being an asshole? that it was just a phase he was going through? you knew better. he was always like this, always pushing your buttons. and maybe, just maybe, it had nothing to do with you at all, it was just the way he was.

by the time they pulled into cora's driveway, the sky was fully dark, the stars scattered across the sky in a quiet, distant show. you put the car in park and sat for a moment, hands still on the wheel. the tension that had been with you all day didn't fade, but for the first time in a while, you weren't sure it would.

"thanks for the ride." cora finally said, her voice drained. "dont think too much okay? he's just some boy."

cora smiled sympathetically before getting out of the car and heading to her front door. you just gave her a reluctant smile back, watching her as she walked away before pulling out of the driveway and getting back on the road. your frustration still hung in the air, thick and suffocating even though the windows were open and the wind whipped through the car . you didn't know how long it would take to shake it off, if you could at all. But for now, you'd just put it out of your mind, at least for the night.

or you thought you could. 

it was late, and there you were, laying awake in your cozy bed. nothing could get you to go to sleep, so you rolled over, pulled some tiny pyjama shorts on, grabbed the car keys and headed downstairs. 

thankfully the rest of the house was sound asleep, you slid some slides on before quietly slipping out the front door and closing it. 

there was only one way you knew for sure you could fall asleep, and unfortunately you had run out a little while ago. you hopped into your car with a sigh and put it into reverse, backing out of the driveway without the headlights on as quickly and quietly as you could. 

once on the road, you shook your head slowly, looking at the road you were going on. only the cut had what you needed for your insomnia, only barry. you rapped your fingers on the steering wheel as you neared the trailer park, nerves gathering in your stomach and rising in your throat. 

you parked your car a few metres away from the entrance of barry's place, took a deep breath before hopping out of the car and locking it as you walked towards his trailer. you noticed it to be 1:30am as you neared the door, turning the corner of the trailer you swallowed as you trudged up the metal steps and lightly rapped on the door. 

it took a few seconds before you heard barry's voice respond, "yea? someone out there or sum'" 

"yeah... barry it's y/n- uh, i know its late-" you began, barry swung the trailer door open and marvelled at you with a mischievous grin baring uneven teeth and the bold glint of gold catching the dim trailer light. rap music wafted out from inside the trailer, as well as the sound of someone else inside, sniffing. 

"huh, mus' be my lucky night, not one but two of you country club types, come on in sweetheart" he grinned, turning around and walking back in. your brow furrowed slightly, someone you knew maybe? you couldn't place it for a second, but when the realisation hit you, so did the smell of his cologne. 

"rafe." you rasped through gritted teeth, taking a deep breath as you then glanced over to a grinning barry. he was rifling through a cupboard, probably already grabbing what you were going to ask for. he was one of the few people that, weirdly, knew you well. 

rafe lifted his head from the small powder-covered glass coffee table, sniffing vigorously with a frenzied gleam in his eyes, "funny seeing you here. you can get off your high horse now huh." 

your jaw tensed, you knew rafe did drugs on occasion but cocaine on a sunday night? with no one but his drug dealer? you'd always looked past it when someone mentioned him having his vices, it never occurred to you it was actually this bad. 

"i'm just getting pot rafe," you retorted, in an attempt to show him how unbothered you were in seeing him nose deep in a mountain of coke at nearly 2am on a now, monday morning. he chuckled a little, still leaning forward with that same gleam in his eye, but when he met your eyes the smile faltered. 

you just stood staring at him, growing worry cinching her brows, barry's swift movements interrupted you as he slapped a baggy of weed on the tiny counter. your head snapped over to look at him, "the usual? 4 grams?"

"all there girly, shi' you can check if you want but all you'd be doin' is wastin' our time hmmm?" barry slurred, clearly far from sober as well, probably on something else. you slid the money over to him and he nodded at you with a grin. "you don' wanna blaze up here real quick? ain't like you got anywhere else to be at 2 in the mornin'" he said as he walked back over to rafe, dropping himself down on the worn built in couch seating. 

you swallowed thickly, "need this for sleep.." you forced a casual smile, " 'sides, you don't have my lucky lighter here do you?" 

barry laughed and shook his head as rafe watched on intensely, "can't say that i do girly, go on then, i'll see you whenever a'ight" 

you plastered the sweetest false smile you could and gave him a single wave, calmly leaving the trailer and closing the door behind you before almost jogging back to your car. 

you could hear footsteps pressing heavily on the gravel behind you as you sped up, soon yanking the driver's side door open when a hand stretched out against your back. 

"y/n- shit, its just me, rafe. fuuuck, you're not even baked an' you're this paranoid?" he chuckled watching the colour come back into your face as you looked him dead in the eyes, angry now. you shoved him in the chest, nearly sending him toppling over backward at the surprise. 

"what the fuck rafe! you annoy me? fine. you argue with me every chance you get? fine. you hate me? i hate you too- but don't you ever fucking sneak up on me like that! god!" you gasped, your hand on your head as if to check if you were alright. you looked at the ground as you paced on the spot. 

his expression softened slightly, still a shit eating grin across his lips, "so-rry. jesus. look uh, i kinda needa ride home or somethin' its late as hell." he mumbled, scratching the back of his head. you looked at him intensely, he couldn't look you in the eyes, his pupils were all blown out and a thin coat of sweat cloaked his body. 

"you idiot. you can't go back home like this, ward'll kill you if he sees you-"

"if he sees me" rafe grinned confidently. you rolled your eyes, "you're so coked out of your mind you dont realise how damn loud you're gonna be. and how damn high you're gonna be for hours rafe. you won't go to bed." 

he scoffed a little, "ah- yeah shit, i didn't think about that uh.." you breathed deeply and squeezed your eyes shut. mere hours ago you were wishing to never see rafe, and now, now you were about to offer him sanctuary for once again being a fucking moron. 

"okay, look, you can come back to my house. my parents are leaving in like an hour to go on some business trip for like two weeks so they won't see you if we wait a little while." you said, shaking your head momentarily, "however. carter.. he cannot fucking see you like this rafe. i know he doesn't know about the coke 'cause if he did, you wouldn't be coming around so often." 

rafe nodded quickly, looking at the ground, "okay okay. so what we're just gonna sit in your car until your parents dip?" 

your tongue darted to the inside of your cheek. this was never the plan.

"no. they can't see my car missing so we'll have to sneak up to my room and wait until they've left. but rafe i swear to god i have no problem leaving you here, nor letting my parents find you if you piss me off." you reluctantly said, crossing your arms over your frame. 

he put his hands up in defense, "yeah ok ok, i get it narc. let's go then." you rolled your eyes at the name and gestured for rafe to go around to the passenger's seat before hopping into the driver's seat yourself. 

the ride back to your house was silent. but not awkward silence, weirdly comforting silence, like a cool summer's night. your mind flicked back to what cora was saying hours ago about rafe seeing you. you glanced at him as he quietly looked out the window, fiddling with his fingers and tapping his foot, and you shook it off. 

the two finally pulled up and were quietly stepping through the front door, you whispered over to rafe telling him to keep his shoes on, your parents were pretty perceptive about even minor things. 

they stalked up the stairs slowly, you guiding rafe the entire way because of how tall and clumsy he proved to be while high. upon finally making it into your room, you sighed in relief and flopped down onto your bed, throwing the baggy of weed, your keys and your phone down with you. 

rafe stood at the door and looked around, he'd never even once seen your room before. it was completely off limits to him, of course it was, you hated each other and you always knew it would be just another tool he'd try and use to make fun of you for. yet there he stood, gazing at the posters and photos on the walls and the vinyl records in the corner as well as at the salt lamp that illuminated the dark room with a dim orange. 

you suddenly snapped out of it, realising that the one person you never thought would enter your safe space, was now finding safety in it himself. you braced yourself for some snarky comment about anything at all but he just continued to silently look around. your brow furrowed and you cocked your head to the side and gazed at him, was he somehow... nicer? high?

seconds went by before the sound of your parents quietly departing the house echoed off the walls. a sense of relief washed over you when you heard the front door close and finally their car start. 

"you're in the clear. now shoo, go to the guest room you always stay in." you hissed in a low sharp tone. rafe's neck snapped and he looked you dead in the eyes before a tinge of sobriety, and clarity hit him. 

he clenched his jaw, "yeah ok. bye." 

as soon as your bedroom door shut, you let out a sigh you didn't even know you were holding in. your mind was racing a little, shock from the entire ordeal but mostly from the lack of annoyance and arguing that occurred. by the time you had settled yourself under the covers, you were sleepy enough to drift off. wondering if you pinched yourself, maybe you'd just wake up from this weird dream.

notes ; surpriiiise. double update.

taglist ;  @rafegetinmybed @sqfewrd @dreamyy-cloud @vampteeth @wtfisastiles @flvredcas @plaidcowboy @sematarygirls @slut4you @kravitzwhore @daryldixon83 @lexavanhuelee @dorcas4meadowes @foolishangelic @i2rapunzel @rafesgreasycurtainbangs @rafestoothbrush ( lachesism taglist )

[quartztwst]

(No Yan Sim AU) Questions for OCs! + Quartz and other characters' lore

You don't have to do these if you don't want to! You can write and answer how ever you want (3rd person or as the OC)

These answers are just examples and they also give lore to other TWST characters in the AU

1. Does your OC have parents or family in the AU? If not, what is their current living situation?

Riddle currently lives with his mother. Because of her influence, he is the strictest in the student council (which consists of the dormleaders.)

2. What are their thoughts on Quartz?

[You can yap about it here since I already used Quartz as an example in the fourth question]

3. What is their thoughts and relationship with Azul? How did they meet Azul?

Jade is Azul's right hand man. He assists Azul with a lot of student council work and is mostly by his side with Floyd. They are friends from their middle school days and up to their highschool days (although the three of them won't admit it).

Jade found Azul's hardwork and scheming nature very exciting so he and his brother always stayed by Azul's side to see what fun events would happen.

4. What are their relationships with other characters/OCs?

[They are speaking about Quartz as example]

Floyd: "Who again?"

Floyd doesn't really acknowledge Quartz since she's so quick out of his sights. Genuinely believes there isn't a person named that but is suspicious.

Jade: "Oh, that shy girl? She's a little funny."

Definitely suspicious of Quartz but they don't interact much so he has no other information about her. He probably needs to be more skillful when studying her.

Riddle: "Quartz?.. Uh.. I-I don't recall who that is."

Quartz rarely interacts with Riddle.

Ace: "Ah? You mean that girl who's always so weird? I've seen her watch Azul. Pffftt! Do you think she likes him?"

He notices her sometimes because he thinks her appearance is a little flashy.

Idia: "I-Isn't she one of Azul's admirers?... She's the shy type right? She's a little strange though.. Sometimes she takes photos of me! W-Wait.. Maybe she's into me instead?! EEEKK!! H-HOW SCARY!!"

Completely misunderstands Quartz's actions but he's quick to know how weird her actions are. He stays away from her if Azul isn't present.

5. What grade/year is your OC?

Azul, Jade, and Floyd are all 2nd years (17).

Leona has been held back so he is still 20.

6. What is your OCs goal for the school year or in life?

Quartz wishes to kill Azul 🙏

7. Your OC is being framed for murder of another student by Quartz, how does your OC react to that? Does your OC know it's Quartz?

Floyd is jumping her.

8. Your OC notices Quartz carrying a weapon in her skirt pocket. That's strange since the female school uniforms don't have skirt pockets. Does your OC report this?

Riddle is absolutely reporting that! He's calling the cops and everything 🫡🫡🫡

9. Where is your OC usually with or at during school? Classes? With Azul? Skipping class? Where do they eat lunch?

Quartz is always in class but she'll come right before the bell rings since she was.. busy. She doesn't have a particular place she goes to all the time. She's never in one spot.

Quartz's lunch spot varies because she's always spying but her usual spot is in the courtyard.

Riddle is assigned being a hall monitor so he usually watches the halls when he is able to. He usually eats lunch with Trey and Cater.

Leona is always found napping under trees and skipping his classes. Ruggie manages to find him and give him his lunch from the cafeteria.

Rook is watching you.

10. How are your OC's grades?

Deuce tries, ok. (Awful)

[marsdql]

“I’m sorry, okay…”

big!back!jongseong x grumpy!reader GENRE: fluff, crack | WC: 0.7k | SNY— Jay eats the snacks you were saving.. | ft: ENHA MEMBS | heeseung verison | @aureliaaaa555 @bamgyuuu-2001

You sat on the couch, arms crossed and lips in a deep pout as Jay walked into the living room. He paused for a moment, taking in your grumpy expression, before sauntering over with that familiar smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“What’s with the face, princess?” he asked, dropping onto the couch next to you.

You turned your head away dramatically, refusing to look at him. “Don’t talk to me,” you said, your voice laced with irritation.

Jake, who had been lounging on the floor scrolling through his phone, raised an eyebrow at the exchange. “Uh-oh. What did Jay do this time?”

“He ate the last of my snacks,” you huffed, still not looking at Jay. “I was saving them, and he just… ate them like it was nothing.”

Sunghoon, sitting on the armrest of the couch, let out a loud laugh. “Classic Jay. Did you really think your snacks were safe with him around?”

Jay sighed, leaning back and draping an arm over the back of the couch. “Okay, first of all, I didn’t know they were the last ones. Second of all, it was an accident.”

“You don’t ‘accidentally’ eat someone’s snacks,” you shot back, finally turning to glare at him.

“You kinda do,” Niki chimed in from the floor, grinning. “But yeah, that’s on you, hyung. You don’t mess with her snacks.”

Jay rubbed the back of his neck, trying to hide the small grin forming on his lips. “Alright, fine. My bad. I’ll buy you new ones.”

“It’s not the same,” you grumbled, hugging a pillow to your chest.

“Here we go,” Heeseung said with a chuckle, walking into the room with a cup of coffee. “Jay, you really don’t learn, do you?”

Jay groaned. “Why are you all ganging up on me? It was just a snack!”

“It’s not just a snack!” you whined, shooting him another glare. “I was looking forward to those all day, Jay. They were my comfort snacks!”

Jake smirked, sitting up. “Comfort snacks are sacred, bro. You messed up.”

“Exactly,” you said, gesturing toward Jake as if he was the voice of reason.

Jay sighed, leaning closer to you. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry, princess. How about I take you to the store, and you can pick out whatever you want?”

You stayed silent, pretending to ignore him, though the idea did sound tempting.

“Still mad, huh?” Jay said, tilting his head and flashing you a mischievous grin. “What if I throw in some ice cream? Or…” He leaned even closer, his voice dropping to a soft murmur. “Maybe I’ll carry you there like the princess you are?”

At that, Sunghoon burst out laughing. “Please let him carry you. I need to see that.”

Jake snickered. “Yeah, I’ll even record it for you. Content gold.”

You tried to keep your pout, but a small laugh slipped through, and Jay’s grin widened in triumph. “There it is,” he said, poking your cheek. “You can’t stay mad at me, baby. I’m too charming.”

“Charming?” you echoed, rolling your eyes. “More like annoying.”

“Annoyingly handsome,” Jay shot back smoothly, earning a groan from Jake and Niki.

“Alright, Romeo,” Heeseung said, sitting down across from you. “Just take her to the store already. She’s clearly not going to let this go.”

Jay stood up, stretching before turning to you and holding out his hand. “Come on, let’s go. You can pick out whatever you want, and I’ll carry all the bags. Deal?”

You eyed his hand for a moment before finally taking it, a small smile creeping onto your lips. “Fine. But you owe me extra snacks for emotional damage.”

“Done,” Jay said with a grin, pulling you to your feet.

As the two of you headed toward the door, Niki called out, “Don’t forget the ice cream!”

“And carry her at least part of the way!” Sunghoon added, laughing.

Jay waved them off with a grin. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just don’t eat her snacks while we’re gone!”

The teasing and laughter from the rest of the members followed you out the door, but you couldn’t help feeling a little better. Jay squeezed your hand as you walked, his soft smile making it hard to stay upset for long.

[starredblood]

NOWHERE GIRL

PART FIVE

kang sae-byeok x fem!reader

synopsis: your late night talk with the stone face girl unexpectedly turns sour.

wc. 1.5k

warnings: mentions of violence, more angst lol

(nowhere girl masterlist)

The cafe is surprisingly buzzing with late night customers. Sae-byeok assumes most of them are college kids, since most if not all, are glued to a book or laptop screen probably cramming some last minute studying.

“I told you I didn’t want anything.” Sae-byeok frowns when you ordered another croissant after she turned down your offer.

You hand the cashier your credit card then briefly smile up at the taller girl. “I heard your stomach is rumbling. It’s okay—you don’t owe me anything.”

Sae-byeok forgot that she hasn’t eating anything all day. So, instead of giving you another remark she shakes her head at you and examines the cafe for a place to sit.

Luckily she found two seats in the mere corner of the cafe. Sae-byeok goes to sit down while you still wait for the order and pulls out her phone and goes to Ji-yeong’s contact. She texts her that you are safe and you both will be home in an hour.

You push a plate with the croissant to Sae-byeok and she whispers a small thank you. When you go to sit down she can see the more visible scraping around your arms now inside the dimly lit cafe but stealthily adverts her gaze back to the warmed up pastry.

It’s been thirty minutes of nothing but silence and Sae-byeok came up with the conclusion that you’re annoying. She noticed the way you lift your foot up and place it on your chair, the scratching of your pencil as you sketch and how you take short loud sips of your caffeinated drink—it all irritates her.

When she finishes eating her pastry she grabs a napkin and wipes the corners of her mouth. Then in her field a view appears a torn piece of paper, passed to her across her end of the table.

“I drew you. I hope you don’t mind.”

Sae-byeok peers up at your sleepy grin then back down at your drawing. It was a pencil sketch of her, perfectly shaded with all of Sae-byeok’s features captured right. Her sharp eyes, freckled cheeks, and frowny plump yet chapped lips. You did it all in just thirty minutes.

You were hoping to get some reaction of out her or maybe another dry thank you would suffice. Instead, Sae-byeok sighs and folds your drawing to a small square and stuffs it in her pocket.

Sae-byeok thought you would scowl for her lack of reaction, however your gentle smile remained on your lips. What are you playing at?

“Does it still hurt?” she asks coolly, the huskiness in her voice is deeper from fatigue.

“A little.” you admit and go back to sketching something else.

Just then, you get a call from your mom and Sae-byeok noticed the contact name before you flipped your phone on its back. Her eyes narrow as she thought for a second. You can tell she’s plotting something so you clear your throat.

“I didn’t run away.” you say in a whim, scratching the nape of your neck. “From home.”

Sae-byeok leans back in her chair and rolls her eyes, impatient as ever. “Could you just finish your drink so we can leave.”

“You’re the one who wanted to tag along.”

She throws you a look. You hide your face with your hair and go back to sketching.

“Did you start it?” Sae-byeok blurts out. You hum in confusion. “The fight.”

You have a deadpan expression for a second before bursting into laughter. Sae-byeok confused, raises an eyebrow.

“Why would I purposefully start a fight with a group of guys?” you laugh.

Sae-byeok forgot that that is normal only in her worldview.

“If you saw how he looks you wouldn’t even dare look at him. Actually…I could probably find him on social media to show you.” you pull out your phone and start tapping away. It only took a minute to find him after stalking through Park Yoon’s page. You show her the most recent picture of him, and expect her to simply agree. But her reaction was off. “What? Do you know him?”

Sae-byeok’s face started to get pale. You put your phone back down and survey her strange reaction.

“You fought him?” she says like the wind has gotten knocked out of her system.

“Not fight. I had to get him off of me before…I don’t know something really bad would’ve happened.” you explain in a ramble. Sae-byeok leans on the table, studying your face closer making you go red. “What you want the details? Fine, I kind of burned his hand with a cigarette and spit on him so I could escape. I know it’s bad.”

“That’s, Jang Yen-ho.” she whispers like someone is listening in. “He’ll come after you again.”

“I had a feeling but I can’t skip anymore of my classes.”

“You have to.”

“You don’t understand if I skip one more time I’m going to get dropped from all my classes and lose my scholarship!”

Sae-byeok pinches her nose bridge and mutters curses at herself.

“How do you even know this guy?” you ask.

“You’re fucked.”

“Excuse me?”

Sae-byeok drops the hand on her face and shoots daggers at you for what feels like the fiftieth time today. “You’re. Fucked.” she grits through her teeth. “Why did you even rile him up in the first place?”

“I didn’t they did it because they found out I’m a lesbian.” you blurt out without meaning to. Sae-byeok is crestfallen and you hold your breath.

The silence in the air couldn’t have been more still. The two of you shared the silence filling the space to register your words. And you didn’t dare to look at the expression on Sae-byeok’s face any longer as you are certain she is probably repulsed.

“Let’s just go.” Sae-byeok says quieter than ever.

You blink back the tears that were blurring your vision and clumsily pack your things while Sae-byeok already made her way out of the cafe. The entire walk back to the apartment was filled with once again more silence with the only noises filling the empty streets were the sound of you sniffling. It made you uncomfortable how far Sae-byeok was walking behind you. You wonder if she’s plotting a similar fate like the one you faced earlier. But you’re at a point where you’ve become numb to pain.

However, nothing happened and you two arrived at the apartment. You dropped your things by the couch and went to the kitchen to dispose the pack of cigarettes that you stole from Jang Yen-ho. From the corner of your eyes you see Sae-byeok rush to her room.

Then the next thing you know, you feel a warm embrace cocooning your back.

“I haven’t seen you these past two days you had me worried sick.” you hear Ji-yeong’s weary voice whisper. When she spots the pack of cigarettes on the counter she removes her arms from you. “Woah these are a fancy pack of cigarettes. How much was it?”

“I took them from someone.” you admit. Frowning deeply still replaying the events that happened at the cafe. “I don’t smoke so you can have them.”

“Cool.” Ji-yeong smirks. You turn around to face her completely, forgetting the huge bruise on your cheek causing her eyes grow twice their size and let out a huge gasp. “What the fuck happened to you?!”

You bring your finger to your lip to signal for her to quiet down. Ji-yeong clamps her mouth with her free hand and surveyed the hall hoping that she didn’t disturb her roommate. Then she pulls you to the living room. You silently thank her as she pulled a duvet over your back and waits for you to talk.

You tug on the duvet and let out a forlorn sigh.

“One of my classmates spread the truth about me and a group of guys confronted me about it. They accused me of—awful things I can’t even comprehend them right now. I’m just so tired. Of everything. Lately I’ve been wondering if it would’ve been easier to have kept my identity a secret and marry the guy my mom set me up with.”

“Do you think they’ll come after you again? You shouldn’t go to school if that’s the case.”

“I know his ex so I’ll have to have a word with her tomorrow. I can’t miss anymore days.”

Ji-yeong rubs your back reassuringly while you glance over at Sae-byeok’s room. You sigh in relief that she didn’t come out to shout at the pair of you.

“Also, I told, Sae-byeok. I don’t think she took it well.”

Ji-yeong’s shoulders and facial expression relaxed. “Shit, I’m sorry. I was the one that assured you she wouldn’t do that. Do you want me to talk to her?”

“No, there’s no point I’ll be gone by tomorrow.”

“I could try to negotiate with her for you to stay longer.”

You send her a weak smile. “No, you’ve done enough.”

Ji-yeong purses her lips.

“Sorry for making you stay up.”

“Don’t apologize I was genuinely worried for you.” she says and pokes the tip of your nose playfully. “Go to sleep though seriously. And if you need ointment for that bruise I have it stored in the bathroom cabinet.”

“Thanks. Good night.” you say and watch her disappear in the narrow hallway to her room.

Just then your phone buzzes again. You scowl at the text your mom sent. ‘When you’re ready to admit to yourself that you were just in a state of confusion call me. I’ll be waiting.’ You delete the message but your fingers hover over the block button. You can only bring yourself to shut off your phone and sink down on the couch.

You lay down face up because your cheek is still sore from the punch you took from Jang Yen-ho.

🏷️: @monroesturnns @knfthxv @jumpedthenfell-13 @peelover25 @karli6 @kissedberries

[welcome-to-green-hills]

In light of you getting snow mystery. I think that you should make some headcanons of the boys (and Shadow) enjoying the snow

ASDFGHJKL! I am more than happy to share some Snow Day headcanons with you hon (I grew up in Florida and this is really my first Snow Day up north, so I’m learning how to snow 👉🥹👈):

Maddie would definitely be the type of mom to bundle her boys up in five layers of jackets, snow pants, scarves, and hats to the point that they can’t move. It’s all worth it in the end because she ends the bundle with a kiss on the nose.

As soon as it starts getting cold, Maddie and Tom drag their sons to the malls in Spring Valley to try on different winter clothes to wear. They’re growing boys and their warmies are always too small by the time the weather breaks.

Sonic is a UGG girly. ‘Nuff said.

Knuckles is a novelty sock girly. He needs socs with fluff and cartoon characters on it.

Tails is a fun hat girly. He likes wearing beanies with Chao heads on it or something comical.

The boys go nuts for snow cream. But they ONLY like it if it’s got sprinkles on it. It has to be a specific color or they won’t eat it.

Each of the boys like to make snow Puppers in the forms of their family. Unless Uncle Wade gets involved, then it’s an army that they make and pretend to have a snow fight with snowballs projected to one another.

The first time Shadow experienced snow was a shock to him. He was wrapped in some of the finest jackets that Maria stole from the scientists—along with a scarf that she made him—and took him on a stroll in the mountains. He fell over multiple times due to not understanding how to balance in the snow.

Shadow also tried to sneak a snowball into the bunker to show to a Young Director Walters, but got upset when it melted. Maria replaced it when Shadow wasn’t looking just to see him smile.

Tails documents every type of snow flake in Montana, photographs them, and keeps a journal of all of the shapes that he’s seen. He’s shared all of his photos with the family to enjoy.

Sonic and Knuckles are competitive snow sleds riders. They’ve tried once to build their own sled to go faster than the kids in town, but it accidentally caught on fire. Don’t ask. Just know that the fire was cool and they toasted marshmallows over it.

None of the boys can ice skate to save their lives. Whenever Shadow comes to visit he has to coach the boys on how to glide over ice.

Tom tried once to take his sons ice fishing. They didn’t last ten minutes on the ice.

Maddie crochet each of her sons a pair of mittens to wear. Since Shadow visits, she made him some as well to assure him that they do care about him. Shadow always wears his purple gloves whenever he comes to visit.

It’s become a tradition where the Wachowski family will get breakfast pizza (it HAS to be a pie cut evenly into five slices with specific toppings accordingly) downtown and take it to the farmers market to buy holiday goodies.

On very, very cold nights, Tom builds a fire downstairs and Maddie throws bedding on the floor to build a nest. Pillows and blankets cover the floor for all five of them (maybe six or seven if Wade and/or Shadow come) to bundle in while watching black and white films.

The boys go apeshit for frozen bubbles. It doesn’t matter how old Sonic, Tails, and Knuckles are, but they love seeing the bubbles freeze over and leave pretty flakes on it.

If Shadow comes to visit, Sonic likes to wake him up early in the morning to watch the sun rise on the rooftops before everyone wakes up. Neither of them say anything, but they do enjoy a hot chocolate on the rooftop and the sunrise.

[bibibahngg]

【ｕｎｅｘｐｅｃｔｅｄｌｙ　ｙｏｕｒｓ】

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚pairing: han jisung x reader ⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖summary: falling in love with your roommate jisung is chaotic in the best way. ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚warnings/genre: fluff!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! that's basically it. like there's a cat? idk? ⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖notes: i haven't posted my writing in a loooooong time, but i think i've improved a lot over that time ngl!! anw, english isn't my first language, so there might be grammar issues and such. enjoyyyy ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

living with han jisung was like starring in your very own sitcom. it was chaotic, unpredictable, and occasionally hazardous to your health. like the time he tried to make pancakes.

"yn! breakfast is almost ready!" jisung called from the kitchen.

the phrase alone was enough to set off alarm bells. you hurried out of your room to investigate, and sure enough, smoke was already curling out of the kitchen doorway.

"ji, what did you do?" you demanded, rushing in to find him frantically fanning a smoking frying pan with a dish towel.

"it's fine! everything's under control!" he insisted, though the blackened.. um.. something... that was in the pan was saying something else. "why does it smell like you set a campfire in here?" "its artistic, okay? slightly charred is a valid flavor profile"

you snatched the pan from him and dumped the remains into the trash. "artistic my ass.. hannie, you literally almost set off the smoke alarm! what did i say about unsupervised cooking?"

he pouted, rubbing the back of his neck. "i just wanted to make breakfast for you, y'know? as a surprise.."

your annoyance softened a little. "that’s sweet" you admitted. "but maybe next time, let’s stick to cereal."

"or", he said, brightening, "you could cook and i could supervise!"

"you supervise? the guy who just tried to set the kitchen on fire?" "exactly! teamwork makes the dream work, right??"

you rolled your eyes affectionately, shoving a bowl of cereal into his hands. "here. eat this before you burn the whole building down"

"fine.. but i’m still your favorite roommate, right?"

"you're literally my only roommate, hanji.." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

it was pouring rain when you returned from your grocery run, your arms full of bags and your raincoat looked.. rather suspicious. jisung, lounging on the couch, perked up as soon as you walked in.

"uhh yn, what’s in your coat..?" "..groceries?" "nuh-uh. groceries don’t move." "it's.. a new kind of.. pasta..?"

"c'mon, what’s in there??", he reached for the zipper, but you backed away, clutching your coat protectively.

but just then, a tiny, muffled meow escaped from your coat. both of you froze. "...", jisung was pointing at you like you'd just confessed to a crime. "is there a cat in your coat?"

you sighed and unzipped your coat to reveal a soaking wet, shivering black kitten curled up inside. "i mean come on! couldn't just leave her, she was in a box by the road, and it was raining so hard! look at her, she's so small!"

jisung stared at the kitten for a long moment before it let out another tiny meow. "so… can we keep her? please?" you spoke again.

he groaned. "yn you know i'm a dog guy! what am i supposed to do with a cat?"

the kitten blinked up at him with its big, round eyes, and his resolve melted immediately. "..fine", he muttered. "but i'm naming her bean."

"bean?"

"yeah" he said smugly. "because she's black, like a coffee bean. and also because she's cute, like me." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

it didn't take long for bean to integrate herself into your chaotic little household. she adored climbing onto jisung's lap while he was gaming, batting at his controller until he lost matches.

one night, you came home to find jisung lying on the couch, wearing an expression of pure betrayal. bean was perched on his chest, staring him down with judgment. a lot of judgement.

"what happened..?" you asked, setting your bag down.

"she ate my last slice of pizza" he said mournfully.

you snorted. "you left it on the coffee table. that's, like, basically an invitation."

"she’s a menace", he grumbled. still, he smiled softly when he looked back at bean. "she’s just like you."

"...excuse me?" "black cat energy." "what?" "y'know?? you're all aloof and sarcastic, but deep down, you care. you just don’t show it much." were you in a romcom?

your cheeks warmed. "whatever, hannie..." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

it was just some thursday evening when everything changed. you were in the kitchen, stirring a pot of soup, while jisung leaned on the counter, watching you.

"you're unusually quiet", you said without looking up.

"hm? 's nothing." his voice was soft, almost hesitant.

you glanced over your shoulder, only to find him staring at you with an expression you couldn't quite place.

"you're acting weird lately."

he chuckled nervously. "i just-" he hesitated, running a hand through his hair. "i think i'm in love with you."

the spoon in your hand froze mid-stir. "...what?"

"i'm serious", he continued. "you're… everything. you're funny and caring, even when you try not to be. you brought home a cat, for crying out loud, because you couldn't stand to see it suffer in the rain. you cook me dinner when i'm too lazy to fend for myself, and you make this place feel like home."

your heart thudded painfully in your chest as you turned to face him fully. "jisung-"

"i know it’s a lot", he said quickly. "and i'll get it if you don't feel the same. but i couldn't keep it in anymore."

for a long moment, the room was silent except for the simmering stew. then, slowly, a smile crept across your face. "you’re an idiot", you said, your voice shaking slightly.

"...wh-"

"i love you too", you admitted. you could feel your cheeks burning up. now, when i tell you his face lit up like a fucking christmas tree, i mean it. "wait, really?!" "..shut up and set the table before the food gets cold."

he beamed, practically skipping off to grab plates, while bean watched from her perch on the counter, tail flicking smugly.

you could swear she was planning her next bit of chaos. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ a/n: im actually happy abt this one so like?? yay??????? anws han jisung is bias wrecking me so hard so here you go also late late late LATE happy new years i hope you guys have a great year to come bye bye!!!!!!!!

[dcxdpdabbles]

Hii 👋 i really love your works i would eat it if i can, especially freelance inventor, will you ever countinue writing it? (Sorry if it sound rude, English is not my first language)

"So what's the deal with them?" Steph dares to ask when Bruce and Mr. Fenton finish passing out the souvenirs the inventor brought back. She wasn't sure why she was included in the gift giving, as she never even met the man before, but she now had a bowl from Irland tucked in her purse.

She's heard about Mr. Fenton through Tim and a bit from Jason. Both boys practically worshiped the ground the man stepped on. She understood that, on some level, they owed him their lives.

Jason, after being rescued from the Joker and Tim after Mr.Fenton found him on the rooftops all those years ago. She won't lie. How they spoke about Mr.Fenton painted a completely different image in her mind.

She expected someone regal, with a cold, calculating glance, who could figure out what she was expecting with a mere glance. Someone that she wouldn't be surprised if he was found tucked away in a pure white lab, working with glowing chemicals. She knows that they never claim Mr.Fenton was terrifying, but she had personally witnessed Dick threaten to tell Bruce to the man.

If he could make Batman cower by his mere mention, Steph had been expecting someone closer to what an evil version of Alfred would be.

Instead, she got a man in faded jeans, beat-up boots, and gentleness that hurt her teeth with how sweetly he smiled. If Bruce was a Bat, then Mr.Fenton could be a flower.

Gentle. Pretty. Unassuming.

Steph had logically known Mr. Fenton was a civilian. But she thought that he would be a scary one, at the least. Maybe someone in the justice system, a personal fighter like a boxer or hell, someone good with firearms.

"Hmm?" Damian glances up from his painting. Steph noticed that he has been doing a lot lately. Leaving his room to paint around the manor. She hasn't known the boy for long.

Steph had only recently forgiven Bruce for the whole Robin stunt he pulled (making her think she was his partner only to be used as bait for Tim, burned), and she wasn't around when Bruce's bio kid was found. Based on the stories Tim, Jason, and Dick shared, though, she thought he was a little more bloodthirsty.

He is more prone to violence after his upbringing, but he seemed to be shimmering down the last few weeks. Damian had apparently been given a talking to by Mr.Fenton, who took him out of the manor into the city for some "undercover training."

Steph hadn't been in Gotham then. She was busy helping a few teen titans with a mission that had her traveling to the other side of the world. But apparently, whatever harsh training Mr.Fenton had forced Damian to undergo had brought back peace to Wayne Manor.

Or as close as it could be.

He still referred to himself as the actual blood son.

"Bruce and Mr. Fenton," she repeated, nodding to where the pair could be seen conversing in the hallway. However, it looked more like Mr.Fenton was the only one talking. Bruce was too busy staring at him like he was the most fascinating thing he'd ever seen. "They seem really close, but in a weird way."

Damain's intense green eyes snap at her. She raises a brow, unwilling to let the brat see he made her flinch. "Do you have a problem with Father getting close to another man?"

It takes her a few seconds to understand why he sounds so guarded before she gasps. "It's not the gay thing! I don't care if their gay!"

"I should hope not. You come into our home and eat our food, Brown." The boy clicks his tongue distastefully. Steph has never seen someone look down their nose at someone two heads taller than them, but Damian proved it could happen. "I would not allow for homophobia to enter these halls. It is not within the rules of social justice."

"Social justice?" She repeats a little surprise that Damian was speaking to her without an insult so far. The only time the brat had bothered to talk to anyone besides Bruce had been to insult them. At least in the two months, she had seen him wander after her Teen Titians mission.

"Danny has pointed out that Father's civilian reputation is tied heavily with social justice. It would not due for his heir to cause trouble in his affairs." Damian places his paintbrush back on his canvas, sneaking glances at the window.

Curious, Steph creeps closer to take a peak and finds herself memorized by the water painting he is working on. It's Bruce and Mr.Fenton. In the painting, Bruce is staring lovingly at Mr.Fenton, who seems to be in the middle of laughing. Though neither have arms- Damian is working on those- it doesn't detract from their loving expressions.

"If it is not due to their gender, what do you find weird about Father and Danny?"

Steph considers the question before slowly getting closer, wanting to oversee the young boy splash some white into Mr.Fenton's eyes, making them appear glowing. "It's just.....weird how Bruce likes someone so normal. No training. No big fancy money. No ties to the capes. Just a man who's really good at science."

Damain shoots her a complicated glance over his shoulders before he slowly replies. "Yes. An average Joe, as you Americans would say. That is Danny."

"Right? Isn't it weird? And besides the fact Bruce is so obvious with his crush, Mr. Feton has no idea. But he can pull apart a toaster in ten minutes to curl Babs hair for her dance? Don't you think it's odd?"

Damian hums. "A true master does not need to show who they are until the blade is at their opponent's neck. But I will admit that Danny's appearance can be rather deceiving."

"Damian.....do you know something?"

The boy's face turned more complicated before returning his attention to his painting. He taps his paintbrush against his palate before he mutters. "I knew only Danny did not treat me like a rabid animal. He took me to the zoo. I haven't been outside the manor since his last visit and grew wary of these walls."

His words hit Steph like a brick. Her first instinct is to explain why it was essential to keep him here, but then she thinks more about it, and her teeth slam shut.

Crude, has she been acting like Bruce? Had she really allowed him to convince her that a child should be locked up like it was nothing? Then again, Damian isn't a prisoner here.

Even if he was, she helped break him out.

"Say, kid, you want to come with Tim and me to the mall this afternoon? I think they have an art store."

Damian twists around to stare in utter shock. For all his training, he really is just a kid because Steph can see the genuine yearning in his eyes as he tries to casually cover up his reaction with a regal shoulder shrug. "I suppose I will have time for more undercover training."

Strange, Steph thinks while texting Tim about Damian joining them. Mr. Fenton hasn't even spoken to me that long, and he already changed how I viewed Damian. Is this why Bruce is into a civilian?

[thanosscross]

Round and round, we go - Choi Seung Hyun/T.O.P x Reader 2/?

Summary: After Seung Hyun ends up ghosting you for days, you finally let him know how he's been making you feel, ending with a deep conversation with your new best friend

Warnings: Slight mentions of depression, other than that, none lovelies! <3

You wouldn't hear from Choi Seung Hyun for almost a week, after your last interaction, leaving you to yourself to work on fixing up any tears or frayed ends on his coat, and burying yourself into work. You didn't do anything big or spectacular like Seung Hyun, you were a tailor/dressmaker for a small dress shop in your hometown, fixing ripped clothing and dresses, altering tuxes and wedding dresses, and fixing school dance dresses, it wasn't anything big, but you liked it and it made you happy.

As you walked into work one morning, you weren't expecting to be so busy, with the shop itself being busy, and you being pulled onto the sales floor to help pick dresses for brides and teens, and your appointments for alterations and fixes, plus walk ins for you to do, you were about to pull your hair out. As you rushed into one of your tailor rooms, you tried to take a deep breath, your phone buzzing with a text that interrupted you 'Coat boy: How're you today? working hard?' You sighed, not being able to hold back a smile as you read over Seung Hyun's message. Replying back that it was busier than ever and you were out of coffee, you slid your phone back into your pocket, making your way back out to your client, who was being more difficult than ever. The stress was never-ending though, as soon as you got your client out of the shop, you had another walk in, and your office phone ringing "Hello? Beauty's bridal and dress, what can I do for you?" You asked, trying your best to keep an upbeat tone as your new client stood impatiently in front of you, tapping her foot as she held her daughter's prom dress. "Hi, I wanted to see about coming in to get a small tear sewn?..What time would be best?" The voice asked, you pinched the bridge on your nose between your finger tips, of course it was another call-in, glancing at your calendar you sighed, deciding to give up your lunch break for the day "Yea um..just stop in around two, and ask for Y/n" You replied sweetly before hanging up, looking at your customer, directing them towards your workbench, so you could see what needed done.

As soon as what was supposed to be your lunch break hit, you sat on the spin platform in one of the private tailor rooms, you didn't use them often, mainly just for tuxes, you had a bigger room with more mirrors that was recently built, so you tried to use that, just so it was easier with the bigger, puffy dresses. Hearing the bell above the shop door ding, you felt like you wanted to either explode with anger, or cry, all you wanted to do was eat and go home, maybe get a call in with Seung Hyun before you had to go to bed, instead you were working a double with no lunch break. Standing up to greet your client, you were relieved to see Seung Hyun shyly walk into your office "Hi, sorry for calling in...I just..I have a show tonight, and I kind of..tore that one pocket you added on for me" He explained shyly, scratching the back of his neck as you both moved to sit at your desk, you just smiled at him, letting your head fall on the table. "Are you okay?..Is now a bad time?" He asked softly, reaching a hand out to grasp yours gently "More than okay, I thought you were another customer, and instead it's someone I can relax and be myself around" You sighed, turning your hand to hold his out of instinct, as you stood up, you took your hand, motioning him into the platform as you picked up some of your sewing supplies, that you'd need.

"Thank you for this, I really appreciate it" He smiled softly as you tied off the thread, securing the pocket back in its rightful place. "Of course, we can't have T.O.P on stage with ripped clothes, unless intentional" You giggled, patting the pocket slightly before handing the coat back to him proudly "It's on the house sir, I'll happily fix anything you bring me" You smiled softly, squeezing his shoulder as he blushed "I'll keep that in mind, y/n" He smiled softly, giving you a tight hug before sighing "I do have to get going though, I promise, I will call you after my show though, unless you want to come?" He smiled softly, pulling away from the hug, sliding his hands down from your shoulders to your hands gently "I'm sorry, I really am, I have to stay till nine tonight, and then come back at eight tomorrow" You frowned softly, going to grab his other coat from your office chair "Did you want this back though?" You asked, offering it to him shyly, he just shook his head smiling brightly "No, No, keep it, Aein, I'm sure we'll see each other soon" Seung Hyun laughed softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your hand before disappearing out of the shop.

You'd end up staying up late that night, waiting for a call from Seung Hyun, only for it to never come, growing frustrated, you'd send him a goodnight text before going to sleep for the night. You wouldn't hear from him again until three days later, whenever he'd show up to your work, his hood pulled far over his face as he darted for your office, hoping you wouldn't have any customers. As his eyes fell on you, he felt himself relax, until your gaze towards him turned harsh and icy "Who do you think you are? You're leading me on, do you realize that? I understand, you're famous, and you're a busy guy, but I have feelings, so it would be nice to know if you're sweet like this with all of your fans, or if this is going anywhere" You ranted, at first, you liked the 'Enjoy what it is, don't make it complicated' mindset, but the way he was with you, and the fact that you had people actively asking you out, you felt inclined to decline their offers, choosing to stay committed to whatever you had going on between you and Seung Hyun. "I-I'm sorry...I just-..Did you mean what you said...when you said you'll happily fix anything?.." He whispered, fidgeting with his hands and rings as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, you stopped, thinking about how you'd want to reply, you could just brush off your frustrations, or tell him to just leave. Sighing as you ran a hand through your hair, you motioned for him to get onto the platform "What's ripped this time?" You asked, grabbing your needle and thread, stopping as he just stood in his place "I-I think I need fixed" He whispered, his voice shaking as he spoke, his gaze glued to the floor as you slowly approached him. "Seung Hyun...What do you mean?" You asked softly, holding his arm gently as you led him to sit down on one of the benches in your office, sitting down next to him before you spoke again "Seung Hyun, I don't think you need fixed" You whispered, taking his hand in yours, caressing his knuckles with your thumb as he sniffled. "I-I panic..all of the time, I'm supposed to be an idol, and yet, I'm scared of big crowds swarming me" He ranted, you were quick to cut him off "Choi Seung Hyun, hush. You can't control that, and it's okay, everybody has their own mental stuff going on, what's important is, you take care of yourself, you don't need fixed because of those things, nor would I be able to do it, but..I can help you..talk you through whatever you need" You whispered, squeezing his hand gently as you finished speaking, Seung Hyun couldn't speak, he couldn't trust his voice as tears built up in his eyes, pulling you into a tight hug as he tried to hide that he was crying.

You didn't care, you just wrapped your arms around him tightly, resting your head on his chest "I thought I had made you upset, or angry" You whispered after a moment, feeling him pull back away from you as he wiped his face quickly "No! You could never, Aein, I just..Didn't want you or anybody..to see me like this" He whispered, you just smacked his arm gently "Choi Seung Hyun, Are you serious? I'm hurt, I thought we were closer than that" You huffed, watching as he tried to hide the soft smile that was growing on his lips. "I just-" He tried to explain, but you cut him off "I know, it's okay, I'm not actually mad" You giggled before tilting your head slightly "Did you need something fixed, or did you just come here to find me?" You asked as you stood up slowly, Seung Hyun watched you closely, he wasn't exactly sure why he came here, he just knew, whenever he was around you, you made everything feel less scary and bad, and that's he needed right now. "I just...wanted to come apologize..for...leading you on?" He questioned, trying to remember your wording from earlier, causing your face to heat up with a blush "O-Okay, well, that was before I knew, that you just needed a minute to yourself" you protested, smiling as you heard him chuckling softly "It's okay, I just, I want to enjoy what's going on with us, I'm not sure if I'm even in the right headspace for that, so..if you want me to back off, and just be a friend, I won't be upset, I'll understand" He explained, holding your hands gently as he tried to calm his nerves "Seung Hyun, I have turned down six guys, and two girls, in the time we've started talking, I'm not just going to walk away now, I'm having fun with you" You smiled, cupping his cheek gently "Thank you..Y/n.." He whispered, pulling his hood off slowly as he started to feel the hold, his racing thoughts had over him, loosen. "Anytime, Jagiya, have you eaten at all tonight? I'm sure they wouldn't mind me heading out an hour or two early, I can order us some takeout?" You offered, smiling as his eyes lit up "Of course! I'd do anything if you're included" He smiled, causing a blush to rise to your cheeks, you just shook your head giggling as you grabbed your (His) coat and your purse, before leading Seung Hyun out of your shop, clocking out on your way out of the door.

Whenever you got to your apartment, you shyly picked up your dirty laundry from the floor "Sorry! These double shifts really take time away from cleaning" You apologized sheepishly as you made your way to the kitchen, trying to find the takeout menu, you were just using the other night. "You're okay! I promise! I don't mind it" He smiled softly, after you managed to finally order takeout and eat, you were left laying on the couch with Seung Hyun, your head on his chest as his arms were wrapped around you tightly. "So you turned down eight people, just for me, while I wasn't answering?" He asked in shock, trailing his fingers up and down your back as he waited for a response, you just hid your face quickly "Yes, But I didn't want to be with them anyways, they weren't the type of people I'd want to spend my time with" you replied shyly, Seung Hyun just laughed softly at your remark "So who is?" He asked playfully, watching as you giggled, rolling on your back playfully "So I'll tell you because we're best friends, but personally? I like the men who are taller, but not by much, deep voice, colored hair, sweet, kind" You playfully listed off, watching as Seung Hyun laughed "You're just describing me!" He laughed, throwing his head back as you continued "they can rap, they're breathtakingly handsome, they're silly, they know just the right thing to say and when to say it, and they're always worrying and caring about their friends and family" You smiled softly, looking up to meet his gaze, Seung Hyun was watching you in awe, your words causing his stomach to flip and flutter. "So basically, me?" Seung Hyun laughed shaking his head, you just turned to face him, resting your chin on his chest as you looked at him "Yes so basically you" You giggled, smacking his arm playfully "You're just better than anybody I've ever spent time with" You added on, smiling at him, watching as he blushed "You're too sweet to me, y/n, I don't know what I've done to deserve you" He whispered, pressing his lips to your forehead "You went through a lot, so let this good thing happen" You giggled, raising his eyebrows, Seung Hyun laughed "You are the weirdest person I know" He chuckled, you just smiled, taking his remark as a compliment as you sighed "I'm serious, you deserve good things, even if you didn't do anything in order to get them" You whispered, leaning up gently to make eye-contact, trying to stress how serious you were.

"Okay, Okay, right now I just want to hang out with you" He chuckled, watching as you glared at him playfully "Fine! Hang out with me" You laughed, resting your head on his shoulder, you laid in silence for awhile before finally Seung Hyun spoke up "Y/n? Do you ever...feel like kissing your friends?" He asked, deep in thought, you just broke out into giggles as you shook your head "No, Seung Hyun, I don't think I have, until I met you" You laughed, your hands coming up to cover your face, Seung Hyun just grabbed your wrists gently, pulling your hands away slowly "Can you read my mind? Or did you just say what I was thinking?" He asked, trying to hide his smile, you just blushed brightly, giggling as he leaned closer to you "So..?" He whispered, leaving his hand resting on the back of your neck as his gaze flicked between your eyes and then your lips "If you want to kiss me, Seung Hyun, you don't have to ask" You giggled, pressing your lips to his as he smiled, placing your hands on his cheeks as you pulled away smiling "See? No need to ask, not you" You giggled, watching as he smiled looking away, his cheeks lighting up with a bright blush, You just laid your head on his shoulder again smiling "See? Best friends that kiss" You giggled, trying your best to sound like a surfer from America or Australia, Seung Hyun couldn't really tell. "Y-Yea, best friends that kiss" He smiled softly, wrapping his arms around you again sighing, While he wasn't exactly ready for a solid real relationship, he knew you were special, and he knew as soon as he was ready to take that step, you'd be the person, he'd want to take it with. You were loving, caring, sweet, selfless, thoughtful, and the way you were so understanding of him not being ready for something serious, but still showing you loved him, really had him questioning now, what he did to deserve somebody as understanding and amazing as you.

--

What do we think lovelies? I'm trying out a new trope with this series! So let me know what you think of the trope with someone not being ready for a relationship but loving someone anyways, and said someone being supportive and loving that person regardless. Excited to hear from you!! <333

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Taglist!!

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@ag02212023

@acehasmyheart

@mitchko11

@learninglinesintherainn

@seunghyunwifey

@alexandralibbre

@jajabro

@heartsforseo

@lilou-0401

@maenoakasuna

@ericityyy

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@saraaisfree

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[wqlfstqr]

◟𖥻 blanket fort : harry potter

▰▰ pairing: harry potter x fem!reader

harry's stressed while staying at grimmauld place, y/n tries to distract him by planning a cozy sleepover night.

author: this is me begging for more harry appreciation like actually please

He's stressed. She knows. He has been in a bad mood the whole week, snapping at people, storming out of dinner and staying in his room most of the time to avoid everyone.

The thing is, she can't really blame him. Grimmauld place seems to have that effect on people, the place is dusty and dark, full of tension because of the war. This has taken a toll on everyone, but mostly on Harry.

She's seen Harry going against powerful wizards and defy death multiple times, but watching him crumble under the weight of the upcoming war breaks her heart. She knows that if anyone deserves a break, it's Harry. And she's determined to give it to him.

It's certainly difficult, it's not like she can wave her wand and make his problems disappear. She would if she could, but it's simply not possible. But maybe she can provide a distraction, something simple to get him to forget about his problems at least one night.

She's eating her dinner in between an order meeting, Sirius and Molly screaming at eachother for whatever reason, when the idea comes in. Her face lights up, and she practically wolfs down her food just so she can excuse herself from the table.

Harry didn’t have the easiest or happiest childhood, she knows that. And, as his best friend, she always makes sure to provide fun moments were she can make amends for everything he lacked for in his childhood. She's sure a blanket fort is a perfect way to keep doing that.

It takes her a long time because she hasn't build a blanket fort in forever, but after maybe an hour, she finally has a perfect fort that she knows for sure won't fall down because she begged George to use his magic to help her since she can't use her wand outside of Hogwarts.

She raids the house for pillows to have inside her fort, and she even ends up finding fairy lights, which is a total shocker to find on that gloomy house but at least it helps her to bring a comforting vibe to the fort. Then, after arguing with Kreacher for at least ten minutes, she was able to find some snacks and make some hot cocoa.

It's late in the night and everybody else has gone to sleep when she finally knocks on Harry's door, not even waiting for him to answer before she cracks the door open, slightly peeking inside. "Harry? come with me for a second, please"

She knows he's not asleep yet, so it isn't surprising when he replies. "y/n i'm not really in the mood for.."

He's not able to finish his sentence before she interrupts him. "Come on, humor me for just five minutes, I promise you'll like it. If you hate it, I'll let you sulk in peace, deal?"

Harry huffs, but he's immediately standing up from his bed. In the past few days, she's the only one he hasn't snapped at. Harry can't help it, she is far too sweet even when she's being pushy.

Before he knows it, she's already taking his hand and pulling him with her through the dark, guiding him up the creaky stairs. When they reach the room she has been staying in, Harry almost expects a half lecture about talking about his feelings just like the one Hermione gave him.

Instead, when the door cracks open and she pulls him inside, he stops short once he sees what she's made of her room. His eyes immediately fall on the fort, blankets dropped over chairs and tugged into corners, glowing fairy lights hanging from the edges, pillows piled in the middle making it look like some cozy nest.

"What is this?" Harry asks quietly, taking a tentative step towards it while y/n closes the door.

"a blanket fort, obviously." She replies with a grin. "we're having a no-war-allowed sleepover, the only rule is that we are not able to mention war at least just for tonight."

Harry looks at her, his face a mix between confusion and surprise. He wants to tell her that this is ridiculous and go back to being alone in his room, but then he sees her smile and his heart skips a beat. She worked so hard for this, only for him, so he doesn’t find it in himself to be the one ruining it.

"This is just ridiculous" he mutters, but he still steps inside and sinks into the pillows.

"You're smiling." she points out, feeling her chest swell with pride once she's able to see the first smile from him in weeks.

"I'm not." He says even though his smile only gets bigger when she settles down beside him.

He doesn’t even know how, but she pulls two mugs from behind the blankets and offers him one. The mug is still warm when he takes it, and he gives her a little appreciative smile when he sips and the taste of hot cocoa fills his mouth.

They fall silent for just a moment until Harry talks again. "Can you tell me what the order discussed today at dinner? Did they-"

"Ah-ah" y/n interrupts, holding up a finger with mock sternness. "What did I say? No war talk tonight, it's a rule."

Harry huffs, but he doesn’t try to push it, because he knows how determined she can be when she wants to. "So what are we supposed to talk about, then? quidditch? school?"

She wrinkles her nose playfully. "No. How about this? We're making stories about the people in the order. You know, the lives they would have if they were... normal people."

Harry stares at her, amusement flashing across his face. "Are you serious?" He asks, even though he's one hundred percent sure she is.

"No! Sirius is asleep." She jokes, this is obviously a joke she picked up from Sirius himself. "Come on, It'll be fun! i'll go first." her face lights up as she hugs a pillow against her chest. "I think professor Lupin would totally own a bookstore. A cozy bookstore pilled with all kinds of books, and he would have a cat or two."

He rolls his eyes, laughing when she falls silent and gives him a pointed look. "Okay, I'll try. Let's see... Molly would own a bakery." He begins. "She would spend hours trying crazy recipes and she would most likely end up burning some things around, but people end up loving everything she bakes. She doesn't let anyone go without a free treat."

y/n seems delighted as she claps her hands together. "Yes! that's totally spot on, see? I knew you could do it!" It's her turn now, so she pauses for a second before smiling again. "If Sirius wasn't stuck here, he would be some kind of rockstar. He would travel around, throwing crazy shows and even crazier parties. And you know he would totally own a motorcycle, too."

"He would." Harry laughs for a moment until he falls silent. She thinks it's only him trying to come up with some other story, but then she's able to see the moment his face falls, smile disappearing. "You know, if things were normal, my parents..."

He doesn’t have the strenght to keep going, but he doesn’t have to. She knows. If Voldemort didn’t exist- if the order were just normal people, Harry's parents would still be alive. He wouldn't be the chosen one. He wouldn't have to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders.

She wants to tell him something, anything to try and make everything hurt a little less, but she knows no amount of words could ever do that. Instead, she scoots closer and wraps her arms around him in a hug. At first, Harry being Harry, he stiffens but after a long second, he melts into her.

"I'm sorry." She whispers once his forehead falls on her shoulder. He knows she's not apologizing for anything she's done, but rather for everything he's endured.

For a while, they sit there, silently embracing eachother. She rubs soothing circles on his back, her heart breaking at the thought of not being able to do anything to ease the pain.

She should talk. Tell him something, but she knows Harry, he won't want to open up about his emotions. At least not yet. The last thing he needs now is more sorrow, he just needs a way out of it, if only for a couple of hours.

"You know" she starts, her voice light. She knows she has to do this for him. "Maybe in another life, Snape runs a hair oil empire. He's definitely the type to use that rubbish on himself. That's why his hair's so slimy."

Harry seems caught off guard at first as he pulls back to look at her, but then a laugh escapes his lips. "His slogan would be something like 'Smooth as silk, greasy as a cauldron bottom.' and he has the ad campaigns nailed down."

y/n laughs so hard that she has to cover her mouth, fearing that Kreacher would hear and appear just to scold them. "If Snape hears you say that, he'll make sure to leave you bald."

"Better bald than greasy." He jokes, and she's just glad to see him happy again.

And just like that, the fort is filled with laughter again, the heaviness retreating a little while longer as they share stories and joke about members of the order, allowing themselves to forget about the upcoming war for just a while.

Harry had forgotten how easy it is to talk to y/n, she's always able to see right through him and ease his pain. No matter what he's going through, she's always able to get a laugh out of him. Around her, Harry can just be himself- not the chosen one, just Harry.

She's laughing about some kind of childhood story she's sharing with him, and he just can't help but stare at her for a little too long.

"What?" She ask in between giggles when she caughts him staring.

He shakes his head, a soft smile grazing his lips. "Nothing. Just... Thank you."

She tilts her head a little. "Why?"

"For this. I didn’t realize how much I needed this." he admits, feeling lighter than he has felt in weeks. "you just- you have a way of making everything feel better."

"You deserve it, Harry. You deserve more than this." She smiles, taking his hand to give it a soft squeeze.

"You're amazing, you know that?" The way she looks at him when the words leave his lips, the shine in her eyes, it makes his heart race.

And he knows it then. He loves her. Always has, like it was something so natural for him to do that he didn’t even realize it until he has to sit there and watch the blush creeping on her face. He loves her.

"I mean, I'm pretty proud of this fort—" She starts, but her words are cut off when his lips meet hers.

It's unexpected, the feelings of his lips takes her breath away for a long second until she's suddenly leaning into the kiss. Time seems to stand still for Harry once he allows himself to get lost in that exact moment, in the way her lips feel so soft, sweet against his. So comforting.

It's in that moment that he realizes, this isn't just a distraction. It isn't just a fleeting moment to forget about war. It's more than that. She is more than that.

She's his anchor. When the world feels like it's falling apart, when the weight of it all feels unbearable, she's always there— steady, unwavering, like some kind of safety net. Always waiting for Harry to fall into the comfort of her arms.

When he pulls apart, y/n is ready for him to start panicking, but he doesn’t do that. Instead, he lets himself lean into the comfort she offers. He presses his forehead to hers, closing his eyes and relaxing to the sounds of her slow breathing.

"Stay." He says suddenly, and she's not sure if he's asking for her to stay tonight or just forever.

But anyways, she replies. "I wasn't planning on leaving."

And for the first time in his life, Harry believes it's okay to share the weight with someone.

[hibiscus-room]

please - m. issei || wc: 1.3k || disclaimer: MDNI. 18+. Smut. I don't know how else to say it, if you interact with this and you are an ageless blog or a minor then you will be blocked, idc if that makes you dislike me. deal with it <3 || tags: size kink, spit kink, dacryphilia, control switch, more fem oriented than focused on Mattsun...sorry <3, eating out, bj, fingering, orgasm denial (from both), And teasing ofc

the couch is where all the best and worst conversations happen. everyone knows that. “We should fuck.” she can’t help the laugh that escapes her at the words.

“Okay Issei, let me just speed out on the couch here,” she jokes with a roll of her eyes as she picks up her slowly growing flat drink. it’s been open for most of the day but it’s the small things in life like growing flat soda that she finds herself weirdly enjoying. 

“I’m being serious,” she hears the shift as he turns to her. he gives her an unamused look and pokes her cheek. “It would be good for the economy.”

“Is it that hard for you to get laid?” she lets out a laugh and sets her drink back down. she wipes her hand on her shorts from the leftover condensation that accumulated on the aluminum can. 

“No, forget it.” 

the conversation is left alone for the next month. she doesn’t mention it and he surely doesn’t either. the thoughts fester in her brain though, it’s like a switch got flipped. the metal of his rings glint in an eye catching way. she wonders what the metal would taste like if she— “y/n? I asked what you wanted for dinner.” the hand waves in front of her face in an almost taunting way. 

“I don’t really care,” she looks down at the fake marbles surface of the kitchen island and squeezes her legs together as she imagines what his fingers might feel like slipping inside of her. she can feel the heat rushing to her face as she catches herself. 

“You doing okay over there?” she so badly wants to ask him again if he was serious but she dreads the embarrassment so much more. he’s leaning against the counter and she wants to pull him to meet her lips. 

“I’m fine,” she clears her throat and clenches her thighs together again. She allows herself to briefly wonder for a moment what he would be like and covers her mouth. what has she got to lose besides maybe her dignity and a friend? “Were you being serious the other day?” 

“About what?” he pulls out his phone to navigate to some delivery service app. “I say a lot of stuff, you should know that by now.” 

“When you said you wanted to fuck me.” she can see him pause and holds her breath in anticipation. 

“Yeah.” she lets out a sigh and gets up from the chair with a screech against the tile flooring. he’s a little taken aback when she grabs his hand and starts going towards her bedroom. “I like where this is going,” his phone is left on the table as they go to her room. “Nice place you’ve got here, no roaches or nothing.” 

“Matsukawa Issei, if you don’t pull your pants down so I can suck you off in the next thirty seconds I’m kicking you out.” he nods and undoes his belt as he slides his jeans down his legs. she sits herself between his thighs and slides his boxers down. “Oh my-“ she strokes him once and enjoys the small whine that passes over him. 

“Come on, you can do more than that.” his hand rests on the back of her hand and he combs through her hair and grabs gently. 

“And if I don’t want to?” she swirls her tongue around the tip with a small smile. her tongue flicks over the slit and his grip tightens slightly as he groans. his head throws back and his free hand covers his mouth. she can feel him throbbing in her hands. 

she licks a bold stripe from the base to the tip and sucks on there for a moment before bringing more into her mouth. He lets out a loud moan and pushes her head down lightly before apologizing. she brings his hand back and she pushes lightly. he gently coaxes her down and she almost makes it to the base before she pulls off with a sharp intake of air. 

“you made it further than most.” he says it too smugly for her liking and she wraps her hand tightly around his dick and strokes him quickly. “Oh my god I’m gonna,” and she stops. his tip is a shade of red it wasn’t moments ago and his chest is heaving up and down as he tries to catch his breath. there’s a beady pearl of precut that sadly dribbles down from his tip. 

“Oops,” he shakes his head and as his dick twitches lamely against his stomach he pulls her up and brings her in to kiss him. it’s messy and there’s spit around her mouth but he doesn’t find it in him to care. they bumble around as they both get on the bed and undress between hot kisses. his hands roam her body and he pulls away from her to take a breath. 

“Can I eat you out?” she nods her head and he kisses his way down her body. he licks a broad stripe up her opening and revels in the small shriek from her as he blows air over the spot he licked. his ringed hands grab her thighs and she can feel the indents starting to form. a part of her hopes they’ll stay there. he pulls her closer and she moans with a small shriek. he eats like a starved man and there’s drool and wetness around his mouth when he lifts his head up.

“just a little longer, hold out a little longer,” he says as he notices her already shaking thighs. he pulls one hand away and uses his other arm to pull her legs apart. his head rests against her left thigh where he bites and sucks until there’s dark marks left in his wake. he doesn’t bother taking his rings off as his long fingers slowly push into her. she shivers a little at the difference in temperatures. the cold of the rings making her dizzy with sick pleasure. her hands tangle in his hair and he curls his fingers inside of her. 

“Omg Issei, please.” and he stops. there’s a dull throbbing as his fingers stop moving. her eyes snap open and she wasn’t even sure when they closed. 

“imagine what my dick is gonna feel like inside of you if you’re this full from my fingers.” a whine passes through her and she tries to pull his face back towards her dripping heat. “Hey, this is just payback sweetheart.” he kisses her thighs until her legs stop shaking and her breath has evened out before going back to his earlier actions. 

his hips move against the bed and he moans against her. it doesn’t take care before they’re both reaching the end with bated breath. while he eyes are closed and she tries to come down he goes to the bathroom to wash his hands and brush his teeth before coming back out and cleaning her up. his hands rub gently up and down her thighs until she calms down a little bit. he uses a wash cloth and wipes off her thighs before helping her to his room.

they’re both a little wobbly as he helps her change into a pair of his boxers and one of his shirts. “What about you?” she asks as her head hits his chest and his hands play in her hair. 

“I already…” he trails off and they both laugh lightly. “Get some sleep.” the two fall asleep wrapped together unsure of what their next steps will be. all that’s certain is that they wake up early the next morning to sit on the roof and watch the sun rise while wrapped in each other’s arms. he then makes her pancakes and she moves some of her clothes to his room. 

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