#maybe if I keep these monthly notes up

[neocitylights]

SUMMARY: Giving in to your boss relentless matchmaking attempts, you’re not sure what to expect upon agreeing to finally meet her son, Donghyuck, at the company’s upcoming Halloween party. Unsure if you’re even ready for a relationship, you also might still be a little too caught up by Haechan, an insufferable but charming one-night fling that keeps asking you out despite your refusals. There’s one thing you’re sure about—life is a funny thing, but yours definitely feels like a cosmic joke sometimes. GENRE: Romance, fluff, non-idol au, one night stand au, strangers to lovers WORD COUNT: 12k WARNINGS: Cursing, suggestive themes, implied sexual content

NOTES: Omg hi neocitylights second fic!! Please let me know what you think!! It’s gonna make my day!!

At first, it reads off as a simple, innocent email from your boss.

As you’d volunteered to help Mrs. Lee organize the company’s annual Halloween party, the first few paragraphs seem harmless enough—reading through the details of potential venues, catering options and decoration palettes selected by her, it truly is a simple, innocent email from your boss… until it isn’t. 

Scanning the words for one last time, a sigh escapes from your lips as you hit her last lines.

Also, don’t forget that I can’t wait for you to finally meet my son at the party! I’m sure that he’ll be delighted to meet you.  

You’ve been working for Mrs. Lee for a little over a year by now and for the best part of it, her persistent matchmaking attempts for her son, Donghyuck, have been targeting you. It’s become a running joke around the small office, especially since every other week Mrs. Lee makes it a point to note how ‘absolutely perfect’ her son would be for you, and how he ‘knows all about you already’. 

Though you’ve always taken it with stride, laughing it off whenever she mentions him, Mrs. Lee never wavered from her scheme.

Besides the fact that Donghyuck is absolutely adored by his mother, you don’t know much about him other than his name and a few bits and pieces of information very purposefully provided by your boss. 

Oh, he’s a very smart boy. Yes, Donghyuck is a little ambitious, you know. He’s been single for a while.

Admittedly, the idea of dating your boss’ son seems like a ticking bomb waiting to explode, but since Mrs. Lee is one of the sweetest people you’ve met in life, it’s only fair to at least assume that she’s raised a decent guy.

Now that the party’s coming up, there’s no real way out of it. 

If you’re being honest, your love life has been a little lacking lately. Given work and your busy routine, there hasn’t been much time to think about anything but crossing off the next item of your daily to-do list. Apart from the monthly team meeting with your co-workers and an occasional dinner out with your roommate or uni friends, the most action you’ve gotten recently is Haechan’s casual, annoyingly charming texts.

It’s funny to think about it now—the guy was supposed to be a one-time thing, just a night to blow off some steam after a long week. 

In a way, he still is. 

You hadn’t expected much after exchanging numbers at the doorstep of his apartment the next morning. 

Not being a stranger as to how one night stands work, you couldn’t help the surprise when his first text came through just a few hours later. Haechan still is a one-time thing, but he’d somehow turned out to be funny and entertaining enough to convince you to stay in touch with him despite the casualness of your encounter.

Toying with each other in a flirty, playful game, sometimes Haechan leaves you a little intrigued and maybe too willing for a second round… if only you didn’t have your work life to worry about, that is.

So for now, your work and love life are on completely separate tracks, even if Mrs. Lee’s been working a little too hard to blur the lines in between.

As you get home a few hours later than usual, brain scrambled in a mess of food menus and guest names, you give in to collapsing on the couch with Alia, who’s already halfway through a pint of ice cream and an episode of Sex Lives of College Girls.

“How was work?” Alia asks, a smirk creeping onto her face. “No offense, but you kinda look… rough.”

“No more than usual, I guess,” you sigh, side-eyeing your roommate for a second as you kick your heels off. “I mean, other than Mrs. Lee being over the moon that her son’s finally meeting me, it was just another day.”

Alia raises her eyebrows, a spoonful of ice cream hovering midway through her mouth. “Wait, is this really a thing? I thought you were joking whenever you mentioned her hyping up her son for you.”

“Donghyuck is very real, very single and apparently the perfect match for me.” You roll your eyes, a chuckle escaping from your lips. “He’s going to the party and she’s been mentioning it every single time she spots me around the office.”

“Damn,” Alia snorts, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she playfully nudges you. “Who would’ve thought you’d be your own boss’ daughter-in-law, huh?”

“Shut up,” you groan, cheeks instantly warming up at your roommate’s laugh. “I love Mrs. Lee to bits but I don’t even know the guy.”

“But you will,” Alia says, giving you a knowing look. “It could be fun, you know? Maybe he is all she’s made him up to be and he’ll be your soulmate or something.” 

You sigh, offering a pat to your friend’s thigh with an amused smile growing on your lips. “You’ve been reading too much booktok literature, Alia.”

As she grins in return, little did you know how stupidly right your roommate’s next words were.

“And you’ll live one, trust me.” 

The following weeks flew by, keeping you busy enough with last minute plan changes and impromptu hunts for a work function appropriate Halloween costume. Much to your concern and Alia’s amusement, Mrs. Lee’s enthusiasm over your potential meeting with her son didn’t falter, instead leaving all of your co-workers in a similar buzz as the party approached.

Now, as you adjust the pink vest of your Barbie costume under the orange lights currently decorating the venue, you can’t help but feel a little antsy. 

Especially after Mrs. Lee’s voice cuts through the crowd when calling your name.

Bracing yourself, you turn to find your boss striding towards you with a very familiar, eager gleam in her eyes. “Oh, there you are! Come on, I want to introduce you to someone!”

Mrs. Lee—who’s adorably dressed as Princess Leia—takes your arm, walking you through the crowd with such firm steps that you’d think that she’s waited her entire life for this exact moment. As fast as she guides you, your boss quickly comes to a stop by a group of her personal guests, who greet both of you with amused smiles. 

“Darling, he’s just over there speaking with a few family friends,” Mrs. Lee murmurs, her arm still intertwined with yours. “Go grab yourself a drink and I’ll bring him over in a moment, hm?”

“Sure thing,” you say, trying to sound casual enough to mask how dazed you are watching her disappear into the crowd again. 

A glass of wine later, the knot of expectation still sits in your stomach as you wait for them at the bar. Your eyes have been discreetly drifting over the room, anxiously anticipating the whirlwind that your boss will probably create for Donghyuck as soon as you’re within their sight. 

On top of the bar’s counter, your phone buzzes.

Haechan 9:34PM Tonight is the naughtiest night of the year Don’t tell me you wouldn’t want to see me today

Reading the texts, you couldn’t help laughing at his cheekiness. Sometimes it feels like Haechan has a knack for knowing the exact, most inappropriate moment to make himself known. Being as insufferable as he is, it’s truly a wonder how the guy still manages to be so attractive even through texts that can rival a frat boy.

Momentarily ignoring your nerves, you start typing a quick response. 

As you’re about to hit send, Mrs. Lee laugh hits your ears and you look up—

You blink, fingers hovering over the screen of your phone.

He’s standing right next to your boss, who has her arm around his and a smile as big as the sun on her face, clearly introducing him with an adoration you could feel from across the room. 

He as in freaking Haechan, the guy you were just about to text and the guy you have been texting ever since a one-night at his place months ago. Haechan as in Mrs. Lee’s infamous, perfect for you, son. 

Mrs. Lee finally catches your eyes, her face lighting up as she excitedly waves you over, the thrill of the moment thankfully leaving her oblivious to any signs of distress on your face. Heart drumming against your ears, you walk towards them with hesitant steps, still in disbelief over how absurd the entire situation is. 

With a hand on your back, Mrs. Lee pulls you closer with an expression that can only be described as triumphant. “Oh darling, I’d like you to meet my son, Donghyuck.”

Donghyuck finally turns to you, his eyes immediately flickering in recognition as he takes in your entire figure, from the stupid white cowboy hat on your head to the high-heeled pointed boots. 

His face shifts, the brief flicker of surprise quickly getting replaced with amusement as he steps to stand by his mother’s side. 

“So this is my Donghyuck, like I told you all about,” your boss continues, a hand on his shoulder as she tells him your name, positively beaming. “You two will get along wonderfully, I just know it.”

Unbeknownst to Mrs. Lee, Donghyuck is clearly suppressing his own reaction as extends a hand out, lips twitching and eyes alight with mischief upon you. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” he starts smoothly. “I’ve heard a lot about you from Mrs. Lee here.”

“Oh, likewise,” you respond, gaze narrowed as you take his hand in a firm shake. “Nice to meet you, Donghyuck.”

Despite the clear amusement on his face as you discreetly stress his apparent real name, Haechan still doesn’t seem to give any other reaction away to your boss. It’s infuriating how good he seems to be at… whatever ridiculous situation this is. Poor Mrs. Lee, still riding on the high of her most awaited matchmaking accomplishment, stays unaware of the simmering tension between you and her son. 

“I’ll leave you two to know each other, then,” she says, offering a cute wink before swiftly disappearing into the crowd as she’s done all night. 

As soon as his mother is out of earshot, Haechan drops the act, his face instantly breaking into a slow grin as he steps closer. “So my mom was right about knowing a girl who’s just perfect for me.”

“And of course that out of billions of people on this Earth, you’d be my boss’ son.” You roll your eyes, arms crossing over your chest as a scoff escapes from your lips. “Because this is exactly how insane my life actually is.”

Donghyuck just laughs, clearly enjoying the situation despite your indignation. “Well, this isn’t exactly how I pictured seeing you again but you don’t see me complaining, do you?”

At the implication of your first and last meeting, you can’t help taking a second to actually see him. 

It actually hasn’t been long, so Haechan still looks pretty much the same… and maybe that’s the problem. The racer jacket he’s wearing as costume makes him look so effortlessly cool, suiting him in a way that feels almost too fitting. From the black hair, now purple tipped and perfectly styled, to the tan skin and endearing moles on his cheeks, you realize that you might’ve daydreamed about him more than you’d like to admit.

It’s only when Haechan clears his throat, looking nothing but pleased, that you snap out of your trance.

You feel warmth creeping up on your neck but refuse to give him the satisfaction, frowning at his smug expression. “Don’t get too comfortable. You’re still just a random guy who’s been obnoxiously texting me weird stuff.”

“That’s mean, Barbie,” he teases, voice lowering just enough that only you can hear. “If I remember correctly, you were the one who gave me your number.”

“Because you asked,” you scoff, rolling your eyes. “I didn’t exactly plan on seeing you again.”

“Are you sure about that?” Haechan leans closer, the playful glint in his eyes growing stronger as he clicks his tongue. “Ah, it didn’t seem like it when you were begging—”

As your pulse quickens, body growing even warmer, you don’t think twice before impulsively covering his mouth with your hand. “I’m technically at work and your mother is my boss, so please shut your mouth.”

Haechan smiles against your palm, pressing his lips to your hand before you pull it away in panic, dreadfully searching the room for Mrs. Lee’s potential prying eyes. If you know your boss as well as you think, then you’d bet that she’s been watching every second of your interaction with her son with laser focus attention. 

Quick to catch you, his grin only widens. “If you don’t want her to see then let’s get out of here.”

If you were to suddenly disappear with her son, Mrs. Lee sure wouldn’t mind. 

Truthfully, you are ridiculously taken by the guy. After all, you have slept with him and it was one of the best nights you’d had in a long while. Haechan is witty, fun to talk to, and he doesn’t seem to hide who he really is. Unfortunately, he just also happens to be your boss’ son.

No matter how attractive and good at sex Haechan might be, you’re most definitely staying away from the ticking bomb. 

You must stay away from the ticking bomb.

“Only in your dreams,” you finally retort, hoping that your face doesn’t expose your agitation as you finally turn around to leave.

Just as you move past him, Haechan leans over your shoulder, the whisper as loud as a scream to your ears.

“That’s exactly where I’ve been seeing you.”

You’d spent the rest of the party in a daze.

Trying your best to steer clear of both Mrs. Lee and her beloved son, you thoroughly focused on supervising every little corner of the venue. Maneuvering your way through the guests, you’d quietly made your escape a few hours later so nobody would notice your sudden absence. 

If only Mrs. Lee hadn’t texted about your whereabouts halfway through your Uber ride, it’d have been a win. 

Now finally at home, you barely step through the door before Alia appears from the kitchen, a mug in her hands as she snickers at your frazzled expression.

“I can’t tell if the party was a bust or not,” she says, taking a sip from her tea as she raises a curious eyebrow. “I’m scared of your answer but how was Mrs. Lee’s long-awaited party?” 

Taking a few steps to slump onto the couch, you drop the cowboy hat and your bag to the floor, pressing a hand to your aching forehead as a sigh escapes from your mouth. 

“The party itself was great, everything went according to the plan,” you start, pausing for a moment to brace yourself. “I also finally met Donghyuck.”

Alia’s eyes immediately light up with interest, fully invested in your ongoing drama. “The Donghyuck? Mrs. Lee’s son Donghyuck?”

You hum. As the exhaustion catches on, you can’t help a deadpan summary of your night. “You can also call him Haechan, I guess.”

Alia almost chokes on her tea, scrambling to put the mug down before she spills it rushing to sit beside you on the couch. “You’ve got to be shitting me!” she exclaims, eyes wide with disbelief. “Haechan as in that cute little guy you’ve been texting since that rooftop bar?”

“The one and only.” You sigh in exasperation, glaring at your friend as she suddenly bursts into a laugh. “I can’t believe you’re laughing. The universe is playing a cosmic sick joke on me and you’re laughing.”

“This is totally your booktok plot!” she beams, voice laced with amusement. “Turns out Mrs. Lee was right about you being perfect for her son.”

“Oh my God, don’t even start,” you groan, feeling your cheeks warm up for the millionth time of the day. “It was embarrassing. I had to pretend that we didn’t know each other while he was looking at me like this is the funniest thing in the world.”

“Are you for real?” Alia scoffs, frowning as if you’d grown two heads. “You were so into him that night. The fact that he has your number right now gives you away, girl.”

“I didn’t think I’d see him again,” you protest, still timid over the memory of your first meeting. “Besides, he’s my boss’ son, and—”

Your phone buzzes on the coffee table, Haechan’s name bright and clear on the screen. 

You hate his impeccable timing. You hate it so much.

Before you can even think, Alia quickly grabs the phone instead, mischief all over her face as she stands up to keep it away from you. 

“I’m on my knees, Barbie—” She starts reading, comically pausing as she shoots you a wide-eyed look. “Oh my God, what the fuck—”

You sink further into the couch, feeling as if your body is ready to combust. “Stop it!”

“I’m on my knees, Barbie,” Alia repeats, purposefully highlighting every word as she continues with a grin curling on her lips. “Where am I taking you for our date? I’m free when you’re free.”

As your roommate drops the phone on your lap, you block the screen with a glare at her. “Don’t say a word.”

“I don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours but this guy is down bad for you,” she points out, her face softening before she sits by your side again. “And you like him, so what’s up with the long face?”

There’s a brief pause in the conversation before you sigh, firmly shaking your head. “It’s too complicated,” you say, offering a meek shrug under Alia’s knowing eyes. “Plus, I really like my job. If anything happens, it might fuck things up, you know.”

Alia watches you for a second that feels way too long, then only nods in response with a quiet chuckle. “Alright. If you’re convinced.”

The thing is, you’re not convinced.

Something tells you that your friend knows that too.

It starts on a Monday after the fateful Halloween party.

Arriving at the office in the aftermath of your meeting with Haechan—or Donghyuck, as you know now—had your nerves hyping up the most dreadful scenarios that played in your head during the weekend.

While it’s true that Mrs. Lee is one of the kindest humans you’ve met, you’d be lying if her reaction to your interaction with her son didn’t worry you a little. Though she was none the wiser back at the party, you did wonder if Haechan actually told her anything or even if she noticed how absurd the conversation played out to be after the very polite introduction.

On top of that, you… kinda also left Haechan on read. 

After an internal battle on whether you should simply reply and decline his invitation or downright just ignore him, you’d postponed an answer long enough to make it useless by now. 

So it’s no wonder that you’re at the edge of your seat now, annoyingly aware of every person that passes by your little corner office, even after a few of your nosy co-workers stop by to ask if you really did meet Mrs. Lee’s handsome and smart son, Donghyuck.

Still, nothing could’ve prepared you to see Haechan in your office, leather jacket, black thick-rimmed glasses and a coffee tray in hand, entering the place as if he’s always been around. 

“Good morning, Barbie,” he greets, flashing a cheeky smile at the apparent surprise on your face. “Don’t look so shocked. I’m just passing by to drop a little pick-me-up.”

Haechan hands one of the coffee cups and you cautiously accept with a sheepish nod, clearly taken aback by the gesture. “Thank you?” 

As quick as he gets in, he’s immediately turning around to leave. You’re taking it as a secret to your grave, but you can’t help but feel a tip of disappointment as he walks to exit your office, though not without a last lingering glance over his shoulder.

You silently pray to every deity existent that Haechan doesn’t realize how feverish you suddenly feel.

Just before he leaves, a small laugh escapes from his lips as he shakes his head, an expression you can’t quite read on his face. “You’re really fucking cute, Barbie.”

On Wednesday, he does it again. 

You’re conveniently on your way to drop a few documents for Mrs. Lee to sign when you catch sight of Haechan in the hallway, chatting animatedly with his mom as she’s returning from a business lunch with a few investors. It takes you a second to swiftly turn around, ready to rush back into your office when he spots you, calling out your name loud enough that half of the office must’ve heard. 

“Finally a familiar face around here, huh?” He smiles, subtly taunting you despite the friendly facade. “You’ve got the best people working here, don’t you, Mrs. Lee?”

Mrs. Lee’s eyes immediately sparkled, glancing between the both of you with interest. “Oh, I certainly do.”

The interaction feels awfully similar to your meeting at the party. Standing beside your boss with the same mischievous gaze, Haechan’s eyes run through every little detail of your figure, visibly pleased with the turn of events. 

“It's nice to see you again, Donghyuck,” you start, politely nodding at them as you hesitantly approach. “I’ve got some papers for you to sign, Mrs. Lee. I'll leave them on your desk, if you want?”

“No need, darling! Hand it over to Donghyuck, please,” your boss says, oblivious to your confusion if her grin is anything to go by.

Once with the folder in hands, Haechan flashes you a quick wink. “Thank you.”

You’re already racking your brain for a getaway excuse when Mrs. Lee huffs, playfully slapping her son’s arm. “You’re going to scare her away,” she chides, turning her attention to you as she sighs. “I know you’re always busy, darling, so we’ll let you go.”

“Right.” You smile tentatively, briefly clearing your throat. “Let me know if you need anything else, Mrs. Lee.”

Feeling his eyes on your back as you hurry back to the safety of your office, you secretly battle against a sudden need to reciprocate his attitude.

By Thursday, you’re kind of already expecting him.

Since his excuses have been a little too convenient to be coincidences, it doesn’t really surprise you to spot Haechan lingering around the office again, especially as he casually happens to bump into you at your lunchtime. 

He manages to follow right behind you on the elevator, his cordial demeanor visibly shifting to the usual sassy one as soon as the doors close. With the thick-rimmed glasses and messy hair adding a nerdy touch to his confidence, you might have watched him a little more attentively today—at least, enough to notice that he’s wearing the same denim jacket from the night you met.

As he steps by your side, shoulders brushing against yours, Haechan sighs. “You haven’t told me where we’re going yet, Barbie,” he starts, a touch dramatic. “I’m in the mood for some sushi but I’ll go wherever you wanna go.”

You glance up at him, eyebrows raised in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“Our date,” Haechan argues, clearly holding back a grin despite the deadpan tone lacing his voice. “You can pick the restaurant, I don’t mind.”

Feeling the proximity a little too much, his words send your brain into haywire. You’re still… very much aware of the unanswered texts on your phone, especially the most recent one sent just the night before. 

“I didn’t expect to see you here again,” you lie, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible by rolling your eyes. “What brings you around this time?”

“I may or may not have left my laptop in Mrs. Lee’s office.” He shrugs, face breaking to a smirk. “Can you believe it? Good thing that I remembered about it.”

Taken by his casualness, you can’t hold back a chuckle. “Very convenient, if you ask me.”

“Are you implying something here, Barbie?” Haechan gasps, giving you a wide-eyed look as he leans over you. “I’m offended, you know. You make it sound like I’m taking advantage of the situation just to see you.”

You scoff, giving in to his attitude as a small smile breaks into your face. “That sounds unlikely.”

“Why didn’t you answer me last night, hm?” he mumbles, close enough that you can clearly see the little dots on his neck. 

Your brain takes a turn at the sight, immediately betraying you with very vivid memories of your lips trailing through Haechan’s moles, all the way down to his chest—

The elevator’s chime saves you from a spiral.

As the smallest sigh leaves your mouth, Haechan’s question hangs in the air as you take a step back from him, now ready to hurry out of the cubicle. There’s a satisfied glint in his eyes, almost as if he knows exactly the effect he’s having on you, most definitely aware that he’s probably wearing you down. 

Once the doors slide open, you’re quick to rush ahead of him, completely missing the weight of his gaze following you. 

Almost as if to trick you, he makes a rather late appearance on Friday.

You spent most of the day sneaking glances around the office, frustration growing in your chest by each passing hour. 

In a brief lapse of your sanity, you almost texted him during your lunch break, having briefly convinced yourself that it’d be mostly out of worry than anything else. Then, as Mrs. Lee bid you an early goodbye before leaving for one of her high-end club reunions, you had to bite your tongue to stop yourself from asking about him.

Too focused on giving Yangyang a detailed explanation of his next errand, you don’t even notice when Haechan finally stops by your office, an entire box of your favorite bakery in hands as he waits for your attention. 

As your intern recognizes him first, he briefly glances between you and Haechan with a knowing look before hurriedly making an escape with a lousy excuse. 

“I think he knows something I don’t,” Haechan teases, casually taking your co-worker’s seat with a feigned innocent smile. “What’s up with the face, Barbie? Did you miss me?”

“You’re late,” you huff, a tip of irritation lacing your voice. “I thought you weren’t coming today.”

Faltering for a second as he processes your words, Haechan blinks in surprise. “Oh, you did miss me,” he says amusedly, leaning forward as his typical grin returns. “I bet you were waiting for me all day, weren’t you?”

Curiously pointing at the box to avoid the question, a smile slips through despite your efforts to keep it cool. “If this is not for me then you can leave right now.”

“I’m hurt you think I’d do this for anyone else but you.” He frowns, glaring at you in feigned offense. “You’re the only one for me, Barbie, you know that.”

You give him a playful eye roll, finally opening the lid to find an array of cupcakes that conveniently also happen to be your favorite flavors. “Who told you I liked these?” you ask, picking one up in delight. “I don’t think anyone here would know my usual bakery order.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Haechan scoffs, watching a little too attentively as you take a bite of a chocolate fudge cupcake. “I just happened to pass by this place and thought I could bring you a treat after a busy week.”

Raising an eyebrow, you pause in between a second bite. “The bakery is all the way across town.” 

“I don’t see how that’s relevant,” he argues, a smirk soon growing on his face again. “We have more important things to discuss right now. How does tomorrow night sound for our date?”

“Tomorrow’s good,” you answer promptly, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible waiting for his reaction. 

With his usual confidence flickering to genuine surprise, Haechan stares at you for a moment, looking so stunned that you can’t help but find pleasure in finally catching him off guard. Reaching out for another cupcake, you swipe a finger at the strawberry frosting, bringing it to your mouth with a knowing smile at him. 

Haechan just laughs, a hint of disbelief in his eyes as he closes them in feigned agony. “You’re really driving me crazy, Barbie.”

“If that’s all you came here for, you can go now.” You gesture towards the door, avoiding his gaze as you mindlessly shuffle through some papers on your desk. “I still have work to do and you already scared my intern away.”

“I love it when you’re mean to me,” he sighs, grinning at your exasperated scoff with a hand over his heart. “I’ll only leave because you can’t seem to concentrate if I’m around.”

Sneaking a glance at him as he stands up, you can’t suppress a small smile. “Thank you for the cupcakes.”

“Promise me you’ll reply when I text you later,” Haechan presses, his playful demeanor sobering just enough to feel distinctively stubborn. “If you don’t, I’ll keep calling you until you pick up.”

You feign a tired sigh, trying to play off your amusement. “I promise, Donghyuck.” 

For a second, Haechan doesn’t move, still standing in front of your desk—and over you—as the cheeky glint returns to his eyes. “I love it when you say my name.”

The remark makes your chest tighten, heart speeding up because you know exactly what he means with that. Shaking your head, you shoo him away with a frown. “Just go already!”

Walking backwards towards the exit of your office, Haechan laughs, pausing just at the doorway to shoot you one last wink. “See you tomorrow, Barbie.”

Once he’s gone, you take a breath and reach out for another cupcake. 

Yeah, apparently staying away from the ticking bomb doesn’t seem like a solid plan anymore, you guess.

Haechan’s restaurant choice isn’t what you expect for a first date. 

Tucked deep into a quiet street, the hole-in-the-wall place is cozy and small enough to feel oddly intimate. There’s a nice handful of people around and as soon as you step in, a grandma quickly ushers you to a corner table, a glimmer of recognition taking over her eyes when Haechan greets her with a warm smile. 

Wearing a black shirt that fits him ridiculously nice, you can’t help your gaze from lingering on his frame for a little longer than usual today. 

As Haechan talks animatedly with the restaurant’s grandma, the only thing you can seem to focus on is the three little open buttons over his chest—

The click of his tongue calls your attention, your eyes finally meeting as Haechan leans closer to your ear, a cheeky grin tugging at his mouth. “I said you should introduce yourself, Barbie.” 

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” you apologize, offering the grandma a regretful look before you bow politely, giving her your name. “I’m… Donghyuck’s date. It’s nice to meet you, grandma.”

The older woman hums, a hand reaching for your chin while thoroughly regarding you with curious eyes. “She’s really pretty, oh my,” she mutters after a second, soon offering Haechan a pointed look with a smile on her face. “Alright, I believe you now, Haechannie.”

Confused by their interaction as she leaves, you can only obey her orders to sit down. When Haechan picks up the worn-out menu, you blink. “What… was that?”

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it,” he says smoothly, shaking his head as he winks. “I’ve been here a lot, do you trust me to order for you?”

At your agreement, Haechan waves for a waiter, smartly starting to list a rather hefty order while you take a second look around the place.

Aesthetically speaking, the restaurant doesn’t feel very promising. Despite being obviously family-owned with a very homey vibe to it, it does look a little run down with the faded pictures on the walls, peeled painting and worn-out, outdated furniture. Still, given its location and appearance, it’s surprisingly pretty packed with all kinds of people—and you do spot a few couples here and there too.

Choosing to trust Haechan either way, you’re still intrigued about how he’s become a regular in a place so off-the-grid.

“You just listed half of the menu without a single look,” you start, staring at him with a funny look once the waiter leaves. “You really must come here a lot.”

“I’d say at least a couple of times a month,” he answers, resting his forearms on the small table as he leans forward. “This grandma’s kimchi stew really changed my life.”

Amused by the sincerity of his voice, you chuckle. “Is that why she seems to love you so much? She was so happy to see you.”

Haechan grins, shrugging casually. “I used to work around this neighborhood, so she’s known me for a long time,” he explains, eyes narrowing playfully as he notes the sudden change on your face. “What’s with the look, Barbie?”

You shake your head, resting your chin on a hand as you study him with newfound attentiveness. “I’m just realizing that I’ve heard a lot about you, but I don’t know what you do for a living.”

“Wow, I thought Mrs. Lee did a better job pitching me to you,” he says, feigning indignation as you roll your eyes. “I own a record label with my friends. It’s an independent thing and not super big but we’re really good, so…”

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise, most definitely not expecting such an unusual answer. “Oh, that’s… actually very cool,” you admit, leaning just a tiny bit forward with a curious smile at him. “Any artist that I might know?”

As a dramatic sigh escapes from his mouth, Haechan locks a steady gaze on you, his voice genuine despite a playful touch. “I sincerely hope not because if you know him then I don’t stand a single chance with you.”

You can’t help bursting into a laugh at how serious he looks, leaning back against your seat as you shoot him a look. “Aren’t we on a date?”

“We are.” He nods, a soft but unmistakable intensity flickering on his face. “This is probably a good time to let you know that I’m not giving up on this, alright? Now that you’re in, you can’t get out.”

Your lips twitch, a smirk soon tugging at the corner of your mouth. “That sounds terrifying,” you tease, amused. “I think I’ll take my chances this time, though.”

The food arrives just in time to interrupt him, though the smirk that grows on his face is enough of an answer to you. 

As the waiter unloads a loaded tray onto your table, dishes looking as delicious as it smells, your excitement grows with the warmth that fills the space between you. Haechan is quick to reach around the plates once the waiter’s gone, relying on your vote of confidence as he places a few dishes for you. 

“Alright,” he says, seemingly satisfied with the full table. “We’ve got this, Barbie.” 

“I don’t think we do,” you counter, eyes taking one last curious glance around before focusing on him. “Which one should I go for first?”

“Is that even a question?” Haechan clicks his tongue, offering you a bowl of rice before pointing to the biggest pot on the table. “The kimchi stew, baby. Go ahead and take a few bites with the rice.”

Following his instructions, you don’t know if the heat spreading through your body is solely from the food’s spiciness, the casualness of his new nickname for you or the deliberate, effortless confidence laced to his rather gentle command. 

With his expectant eyes watching for a reaction, you pause in between a second bite, grinning fondly at him. “Don’t look so worried, it’s really good.”

“You’re really a woman after my own heart,” he says, sounding as if he’d just had an epiphany. “Oh, my mom really knew what she was doing…”

“Considering we already knew each other, I think we can take the credit for this.” You shrug, feeling suddenly shy over the whole ordeal with Mrs. Lee. “Have you ever told her? That we’ve met before the party?”

“No, but I have a feeling that she knows. My mom always knows everything.” Haechan chuckles, eyes shining with mischief as he raises an eyebrow, leaning back on his seat. “Have you told her?”

“Are you kidding me?” you ask, voice dropping into a whisper as if the entire restaurant might overhear. “How am I supposed to tell my boss that I had a one night stand with her son without knowing it was actually her son?”

Giving a full laugh, there’s a hint of delight on his face as he smirks. “I mean, it was only a one night stand because you wanted it to be,” Haechan argues, a little too smug. “I have been trying, you know.”

“Let’s just not talk about that,” you cut off, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a flustered reaction as you chuckle nervously. “Since you already know what I do, you should tell me more about your label, please.”

Despite Haechan’s playful glare, making sure you know that he’s aware of your not-so-subtle deflection, the conversation quickly shifts to his job. Much like the night you first met at the bar, you’re completely entertained by his little anecdotes, taken by the humorous way he recounts his friendship stories and work mishaps with Mark, Johnny and Jaehyun. 

It almost feels like he’s cracking the edges of your hesitance, his personality disarming you so easily that you can’t help but wonder why you’ve spent so much time keeping him at arm’s length—or if you ever did in the first place.

As the evening flies by, only leftovers forgotten around the table now, silence lulls between you for a moment. 

Maybe you’re a little too aware of him, but noticing the sleeves of Haechan’s shirt starting to slide down his arms as he piles up a few empty bowls, you act before your brain can stop you.

“Wait,” you call softly, reaching out to hold his forearm. “Hold still for me?”

Haechan freezes mid-reach, something you can’t quite read in his eyes as he watches you push one sleeve back up, your fingers brushing against his skin by folding the fabric neatly into place. He willingly extends his arm when you move to the other sleeve, straightening it with the same care as you try to disregard his steady gaze locked on your figure.

When you let him go, Haechan slumps into his seat with a bemused chuckle. “You’re really making things harder for me, Barbie.”

As grandma’s loud and cheerful voice suddenly cuts through the restaurant, you’re saved by the bell seeing her approach your table, her face shifting to a frown as she looks between both of you. “Why did you eat so little?” 

Though she doesn’t seem to notice the weirdly tense mood, your cheeks are still burning over his words as Haechan silently nods at you to lead the conversation.

“I ate quite a lot, grandma,” you start, reassuring her with a timid smile. “It was really, really delicious. The best food I’ve ever had.”

She coos at you for a second, quickly moving on to playfully swat Haechan’s shoulder with a glare. “Why did you take so long to bring your girlfriend here? That’s not something a nice boy like you should do.”

A grin takes over his face, Haechan giving you a knowing look before he nods eagerly at the older woman. “I promise to bring my girlfriend more often now, grandma.”

“You should leave if you’re done already,” she reprimands lightly, starting to set the empty dishes on a tray with a click of her tongue. “Don’t keep hogging my table like you always do with those friends of yours.”

After resisting your several attempts of help, the restaurant’s grandma soon walks you to the door, bidding goodbye with a kiss to both yours and Haechan’s cheeks as she makes him promise to come back soon again. 

Stepping outside, the silence between you is filled with a strange mix of both ease and anticipation. 

Save from a few partygoers coming and going, the street is mostly quiet, lights casting a warm glow around you despite the evening’s chill. With the realization that the night’s finally over, you aren’t quite sure what to expect of Haechan now—given that most of your interactions were built through a game of push-and-pull, it almost feels like you’ve reached the climax of a story that’s just started.

Completely unaware of your skepticism, he falls into step beside you with a dramatic sigh. “I think you should let me take you home.” 

“You’re walking me to my car right now,” you say, rolling your eyes as an amused smile grows on your face. “I already told you a million times that I drove here.”

Haechan sighs again, his shoulders slumping for added effect. “Actually, I think you should take me to your home.”

You give him a look, ignoring the warmth spreading through your neck by feigning exasperation. “You also drove here, Donghyuck.”

“You’re really missing the big picture here, Barbie,” he groans, throwing his head back in feigned frustration. “Are you really going to reject me again? When are you going to stop pretending you don’t like me?”

As you shake your head, a smirk threatens to break your facade. “You said you like it when I’m mean to you.”

“I do,” Haechan says without missing a beat, sobering up to a serious expression despite the mischievous glint in his eyes. “I like it so much you can be the mean one this time.”

The implication behind his words make you pause for a second, feeling a little flustered despite the scoff that escapes from your mouth. “You’re unbelievable.” 

Approaching your car soon enough, Haechan just watches as you unlock the doors and slide into the driver’s seat, quickly stepping forward to block you from closing yet. Looking up at him, you hope that the dim lights of the parking spot are enough to disguise your agitation.

With a hand on the roof of the car, he leans down just enough to meet your eyes. “Remember you promised to reply to my texts now,” Haechan insists, a smug smile growing on his face. “What’s gonna happen if you don’t reply?”

You give him a small, challenging grin. “You’re going to keep calling me until I pick up.”

“That’s right.” He nods, giving a satisfied chuckle. “You’ll let me know when you get home safe, won’t you?”

With a half-hearted snort, you nod back. “Yes, Donghyuck.”

Instead of answering, Haechan regards you for a second before extending a hand out, pushing the fallen strap of your top back in place with a feather-like touch to your upper arm. 

As quick as it happens, he taps the roof of the car and closes the door for you, offering one last grin. “I’ll talk to you later, Barbie.”

Well, he did try to—which didn’t mean you let him.

At home, you reveled in watching Haechan’s name blowing up your phone, just for the sake of keeping him on his toes.

Barbie 10:44AM If you’re in a meeting then STOP texting me

Haechan grins at your message, his attention completely absorbed by his phone while Johnny and Mark debate something about winter releases in the back of his mind. 

Gathered in Johnny’s office for a monthly meeting, the scene was familiar enough to allow him to zone out in your favor—while Mark was running his mouth away about a few potential songs, Johnny occasionally interjecting every now and then, Haechan quietly focused on pestering a few texts out of you. 

In the following days of your date, he couldn’t seem to get enough of the familiar sharp, flirty back-and-forth between you, especially now knowing that you secretly enjoy it. So much that he takes a backseat in his friends’ conversation, unaware of his oldest friend’s reprimand until Mark waves a hand to his face, snapping his fingers as to pull him back to reality.

Haechan looks around Johnny’s office for a second, putting his phone down with a dismayed sigh. “I already said I’ll agree with whatever you guys decide.”

Mark and Johnny exchange amused looks, the latter raising an eyebrow at his friend with a mischievous chuckle. “Sure, so you do agree to leaving the higher percentage to Mark and I, right?”

At the youngest’s guilty grimace, Mark bursts a laugh before swatting his shoulder. “Dude, you’ve been grinning at your phone like an idiot for like, 30 minutes now,” he teases, a hint of confusion laced to his humorous tone. “You never shut up during our meetings, what’s going on?”

With a dramatic pause, Haechan looks between his two friends, a smirk soon growing on his face. “Alright, if you guys want to know so badly—”

Johnny snorts, immediately cutting him off with a playful look. “I didn’t ask anything.”

“If you guys want to know so badly,” he repeats pointedly, rolling his eyes at Johnny’s laugh. “You know that girl from the bar I’ve been talking to? Well, she’s the girl my mom tried to set me up with at the Halloween party.”

Haechan can’t help laughing at his friends’ reactions, both of them visibly puzzled by the half-assed burst of information. Johnny’s the one to break the silence first, an amused scoff escaping from his mouth.

“One of these days your mouth’s gonna get you in trouble,” he says, seemingly processing his friend’s words before leaning forward on his desk. “Let me see if I got this right—the girl from the bar is your mother’s employee… is that it?”

Mark raises an eyebrow, pausing for a second before his jaw drops. “Wait—what?”

“Ding ding ding! Points for Johnny!” Haechan jokes, unable to hide the amusement in his voice. “Turns out she works for my mom all this time and I just didn’t know.”

Johnny chuckles, shaking his head at the youngest’s antics. “You know what? That does sound like something that would only happen to you.” 

“So basically, you’re telling us you hooked up with your mom’s employee?” Mark insists, a mix of amazement and shock on his face as Haechan proudly grins in response. “Man, that’s crazy. What are the odds?”

“How did she take it?” Johnny asks, narrowing his eyes. “Knowing you, I bet you were insufferable and freaked her out.”

Trying to play it cool with a nonchalant shrug, a very clear image of your Barbie dressed self pops in his mind as he chuckles. “I mean, she did pretend to not know me, but it was fun.”

The oldest hums, his curiosity peaked despite the careful approach. “So… what now? You guys are dating or what?” 

Haechan falters, the smile on his face slipping for a second before catching himself. “We’re not dating… yet,” he admits, dragging out the words as if to make them believable. “We went on a date a few days ago but she’s still… a little skeptical, you know.”

Mark snorts, rolling his eyes. “Skeptical of you? What a surprise.”

“Shut up, she’s just figuring out if I’m serious or just messing around,” Haechan groans, shooting his friend a peeved look. “I mean, I’m obviously serious but she might think I’m just playing games or something.”

“She’s not wrong, though,” Johnny points, a teasing smirk on his face. “Again, if I know you, you are probably playing games.”

“Yeah, but not like that!” he whines, huffing loudly as he slumps against the chair. “This is just me being charming. There’s a difference.”

Mark raises an eyebrow, grimacing. “Is there, though?”

Haechan pauses, opening his mouth to reply but quickly closing it again as a comeback escapes him. For a brief moment, he feels and looks genuinely dumbfounded, which is definitely a rare and mildly entertaining sight for his two older friends. Though he’d never admit it, there’s no denying that Mark and Johnny planted a little seed of uncertainty in his head.

Crossing his arms, Johnny can’t help but laugh at his sullen expression. “Have we finally broken you?”

“No, you haven’t,” he fires back, voice remarkably resembling a bratty child. “I’m just… plotting.”

“Can I give you one last word of advice?” Johnny asks, toning the conversation down to a more serious note with a knowing glance at the youngest. “You should probably put yourself in her shoes. I know it must’ve been fun for you to find out who she is, but she does work for your mom. Do you get it?”

After a brief moment of silence between them, Mark lets out a low whistle, visibly impressed at the words. “Damn, that was a good thought.”

“Ugh, alright, I get it,” Haechan concedes, the corner of his mouth threatening a grin. “I’ll try to play it cool… for her.”

The conversation is cut short by the buzz of his phone against the desk, drawing everyone’s attention as it lights up with a familiar nickname. 

Barbie 10:56AM I can’t believe you actually listened to what I said

Mark and Johnny exchange a second look watching Haechan’s grin widen, a look on his face that’s enough to tell them that he’s far from playing it cool like promised.

It just happens to be one of those weeks.

As you walk through the lobby, leaving the office much later than usual for a Friday, you feel your shoulders heavy with exhaustion. After days of nonstop meetings, tight deadlines and constant phone calls due to an unexpected slip of your co-workers, all you want is to go home, kick your heels off and forget about the existence of numbers and currencies for a while.

Still, despite how worn-out you feel, the sight of Haechan standing by his car just outside the building rises a hint of excitement in your chest. 

With your surprise taken by anticipation—especially after the few days where your interaction had been limited to his insufferable messages—you can’t help but feel relieved to see him. Though there hadn’t been time for much else, you’d still caught yourself thinking about him more often than you cared to admit. 

You’re also not admitting any time soon that Haechan’s the easiest, most fun part of your routine too. 

In the stupor of your fatigue, you take in his fluffy brown jacket and the squared glasses on his face, making him look so warm and cuddly that you don’t even think twice before throwing your arms around his shoulders in a hug.

Feeling Haechan’s confusion through his hesitation to hold you back, a sigh escapes from your mouth as you tighten the hold and bury your face against his neck, seemingly enough to tell him something. 

“You’re being too nice to me, I’m worried,” he jokes lightheartedly, a contrast to his frown as he attempts a look at your face. “Come look at me, please?”

His hands are still running up and down your back in the gentle embrace as you glance up, pulling back just enough to meet his eyes. “Hi.”

“Hey,” Haechan greets, his usual teasing tone softened with concern. “What’s wrong? I was expecting a long face and maybe an insult, not the best hug I’ve had in my entire life.”

“I’m just… really tired.” You chuckle humorlessly, too quiet. “This week was hell and my brain’s completely fried, I’m sorry.”

As his face shifts to something you can’t read, Haechan hums. “I was thinking about putting some food in you,” he starts, his hands moving to your arms almost soothingly. “But if you’re too tired, then I can take you ho—”

“No,” you interrupt right away, shaking your head as a familiar warmth heats your cheeks. “I’m starving and… I wanted to see you.”

He blinks, a slow grin growing on his face as he clutches his chest in the usual dramatic fashion. “The things I’d do for you, Barbie…” Haechan groans, back to his playful nature. “I know just the place. Do you trust me?”

You watch as he extends a hand, huffing a laugh before taking his hold. “Yeah.”

There’s something unexpectedly tender in the way Haechan takes the lead then, effortlessly building the conversation with a touch of softness you hadn’t witnessed before with him. Though the drive is fairly quick, his smart quips slipping every now and then to still tease you, the feeling that maybe this moment holds a whole different meaning to your heart doesn’t escape you.

The ramen stand is nestled just by the river, people scattered around under the yellow lights as the buzz of conversation and clinking glasses mingles with the faint rush of water nearby. 

As both of you weave through the crowd, Haechan still holding tight to your hand as he leads the way, the air gets warmer enough to make you salivate at the lingering aroma of broth and grilled meat. With a perfect view of the river, he’s quick to spot an empty table, moving around before gesturing for you to take the stool first. 

Eyeing the table for a second, you hesitate for a second before speaking up. “Can’t I sit beside you?”

Haechan pauses, still holding the stool as he glances up at you, his furrowed eyebrows instantly melting to a knowing smile. “You love me, don’t you?”

You scoff, brushing past him to take the seat with a grin betraying you. “Don’t bother, then.”

“No, no, no,” he counters, quickly sliding his own stool next to yours before dropping into the seat with a chuckle. “Are you kidding? Who am I to deny you something?”

As you pretend to ignore him, focusing on the vendor for the moment, Haechan doesn’t seem phased by it as he leans closer, sneaking glances at you while casually placing the order under another vote of confidence.

Once you’re alone again, he sighs with a feigned glare at your direction. “So… do I have to talk with Mrs. Lee for overworking you?”

You laugh, the sound coming off a little worn out despite your amusement. “It’s not your mother’s fault,” you reply, shaking your head with a deep breath. “I don’t think she even knows what happened. If she did, she’d definitely scold me for working so late.”

“As she should,” Haechan argues, eyes suddenly turning a little too serious. “If whatever’s happening is giving you too much trouble, you should tell her.”

Tilting your head as you lean forward, a smile tugs at your mouth. “Are you worried about me?”

“Yeah, actually,” he admits, grinning mischievously unlike his deadpan tone. “I am obsessed with you for a reason, after all.”

“You really are crazy,” you joke, not resisting a laugh as you quickly place a finger over his mouth just as he’s about to speak. “Please, don’t say you’re crazy for me.”

With a dramatic sigh, Haechan pulls back from you with a dirty look. “Are you calling me a liar?”

“I know you’re not.” You smile, faltering for a second as the moment seems to suddenly shift with the softness laced to your voice. “I mean, I’m starting to believe you’re not. I… hope you’re not, so…”

A mix of emotions seem to flicker through his face at your words, enough to visibly leave Haechan a little floored while the vendor approaches with the food, the timing for an answer lost as the man places the steaming bowls of ramen and grilled skewers between you. 

He clears his throat as the vendor leaves, shifting his attention to the food for a second. “Let’s make a bet,” Haechan suddenly starts, resting his elbows on the table as he leans forward. “This is going to be the best ramen you’ve ever had so you’ll let me take you as my plus one to my mom’s Holiday dinner.”

You frown confusedly at his impromptu offer, unsure if he’s actually serious about it. “What?”

“You heard me,” he counters, sounding firmer now as a mischievous smile brightens his face. “If this is the best ramen you’ve ever had, we’ll go to Mrs. Lee’s Holiday dinner together.”

If Mrs. Lee’s annual Halloween party is already highly anticipated by her employees and associates alike, you can safely say that Mrs. Lee’s annual Holiday dinner is an experience of its own. Having attended your first one the year before, just a few months after you’d been hired, it made you wonder if you’d actually last in the job. 

First, because it officially marked the start of your boss’ matchmaking attempts—specifically after Haechan bailed on her at the last minute—and second, because it’s kind of… a big deal.

The Holiday dinner is quite fancy, packed with the corporate A-list Mrs. Lee works with.

So you can’t help but hesitate, raising a doubtful eyebrow at him. “That’s silly! Aren’t you going either way?”

Haechan clicks his tongue, voice flat as if he’s stating the obvious. “If it’s not with you, not really.”

“Well, considering you bailed last year, you should probably attend this one,” you argue, pursing your lips to hold back a smile. “Besides, what makes you think I wouldn’t lie just to get out of this?”

“You wouldn’t dare.” Haechan grins, leaning closer with a challenging look at your direction. “If you truly want me at this boring dinner, you won’t lie.”

As you shake your head, a laugh escapes before you can stop it. “Are you really placing your cards on a bowl of ramen right now?”

“This is not just a bowl of ramen, Barbie,” he says, gesturing dramatically at the bowl. “It’s the bowl of ramen. You should’ve learned by now that I don’t mess around with good food.”

You pick up the chopsticks, the corner of your mouth twitching from holding back your amusement. “I’ll try it with one condition,” you offer, narrowing your eyes. “If I don’t like it, you owe me something.”

Haechan snorts, eyes gleaming with anticipation. “Just name it and I’ll do it even if you like it.”

“I’ll tell you later,” you reply, pausing before you take a first bite, dragging the moment out just to spite him. 

Even if you were a good liar, it most definitely wouldn’t be worth it—it almost feels like the taste explodes in your mouth and if Haechan’s reaction says anything, a smirk slowly growing on his face by each second, your expression is probably gives you away. 

As he chuckles to himself, Haechan looks nothing but satisfied while stirring his own bowl. “I told you so, baby.”

The river’s gentle waves sound like background music as the conversation eases between you, the meal wrapping up in no time with Haechan feeding a few remaining pieces of meat to a curious kitty that sneaks around your feet under the table.

Taken by the warmth of a full stomach and the exhaustion of your hellish week, you scoot closer to him, enough to lean against Haechan’s side as your head falls on his shoulder. 

Quick to welcome you, he wraps an arm around your back before pulling you even closer. “Tired?”

“A little,” you mumble, closing your eyes for a second before chuckling. “Can I ask you a stupid question?”

He nods, hands running up and down your back now. “Yeah, baby.”

“How come you’ve got two names?” you ask, giving him a funny look as he laughs. “I mean, if your real name is Donghyuck, where did Haechan come from?”

“When we started the label, I used to sing some of the guide tracks of our projects,” Haechan explains, smiling at the surprise on your face. “I didn’t want to use my real name if someone ended up using it, so I made one up.”

“It fits you,” you say, sighing as you close your eyes again. “I love your real name, too.”

Despite the small grin curling his lips, there’s a flicker of something more serious in Haechan’s eyes. “You love me too?”

Instead of indulging his teasing, you glance up at him with a knowing smile. “Thank you for tonight, Donghyuck,” you start, using his real name with a touch of softness that feels a little different. “I really needed this.”

Haechan regards you for a second, quietly watching for a second before he chuckles fondly. “Anytime, Barbie,” he murmurs, squeezing you against his side with a hum. “You know that, don’t you?”

As you look out at the river, cozy and warm in his hold as the yellow lights shimmer against the water, the answer comes as quickly as the waves crashing nearby. 

You know now.

Barbie 9:26PM Are you busy?

9:26PM Look who it is Never busy for you What do I owe the pleasure baby

Barbie 9:27PM Hi Hyuck I hope I’m not interrupting anything

9:27PM I’m Hyuck now??? 😀

Barbie 9:27PM Don’t be insufferable about it I was just wondering if you’re free tomorrow night?

9:29PM Are you asking me on a date? Am I dreaming right now??

Barbie 9:29PM You should probably pinch yourself then Maybe you could come over for dinner? I’ll even cook for you this time

9:30PM You’re so lucky my schedule is clear baby I’m all yours if you want it

Barbie 9:30PM I do want it

9:30PM You do??

9:31PM I’ll call until you pick up Barbie

9:35PM You want me???

Outside your apartment, Haechan doesn’t realize how antsy he feels until the bottle of wine nearly slips from his fingers, fidgeting impatiently while waiting for you to open the door. With the faint sound of music slipping through, a song he doesn’t really recognize playing inside, the entire situation feels like a ridiculous, senseless fever dream. 

At this point, he doesn’t know what to expect. 

Thinking back from the first night you’d spent together to the absurd twist of events that followed at his mother’s Halloween party, he’s strangely unsure of… well, whatever today can possibly mean. 

So much that Haechan swears his brain short-circuits as soon as the door opens—wearing a dress he’s very much familiar with, looking like the perfect picture of his wildest, most vivid memories, you smile knowingly at him, taking the surprise on his face with a hint of satisfaction.

“You must take pleasure in my suffering,” he starts solemnly, his dramatic sigh earning a laugh from you. “I’m having full flashbacks right now.”

Rolling your eyes, you step aside to let him in. “Good evening, Donghyuck.”

A few steps into your apartment, he looks over his shoulder as you follow him to the living room. “Are you trying to tell me something?” Haechan pauses, the question soon followed by a coy smile. “Baby, all you need to do is ask. I’ve told you—”

“Get your mind off the gutter,” you cut off, attempting to hide your amusement with a scoff. “I invited you for dinner, didn’t I?”

He chuckles, setting the wine bottle on the coffee table with a quick glance around your place. “You didn’t specify what kind of dinner, though.”

At the subtle suggestion in his voice, you shoot him a withering look. “The kind that involves food, Donghyuck,” you argue, a snicker escaping from your lips. “Unless you want to starve tonight, then I can—”

“Alright, alright,” Haechan interrupts, holding his hands up in surrender with a smirk. “I promise to behave from now on.”

You huff, raising an eyebrow at him. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

While you head into the kitchen, Haechan lingers around your living room for a moment, taking in the little details of your apartment. From a collection of candles by the TV, packed bookshelves to an array of pictures on the walls, the small place feels very cozy, somehow so unmistakably you.

It’s only when he follows you into the kitchen, leaning against the counter, that Haechan remembers your roommate—eyes immediately spotting a polaroid glued to the fridge, the image showing you in a birthday hat, squeezed in a hug between the girl and a lanky, tall guy. 

He chuckles at the picture, your name paired with a + Alia & Jungwoo on the bottom. “Where’s your roommate, by the way?”

“She’s in Vegas with her boyfriend,” you explain, glancing over your shoulder with an amused laugh. “Apparently they got married by Elvis last night? They sent me pictures and everything.”

Haechan gapes for a second, a playful whistle following. “Damn, we’ll have to step up the game in our wedding, then.”

“I’d have to accept it first, which I’m not planning to do,” you snort, giving him a look. “Set the table for me, would you? The plates are in the cabinet on your right.”

As you finally sit down to eat, settled at the coffee table instead in a similar set-up to your ramen date, Haechan can’t help stealing a few glances at you. There’s something about the moment that feels too natural, an ease between you that sends his mind to places he still isn’t sure you’re at. 

Watching you take a sip of the wine a little too attentively, a hum pleased hum escaping from your lips, the words slip before Haechan can stop them. “I told my mom that we already knew each other before the Halloween party.”

You choke with the wine, falling into a coughing fit as your eyes widen at him. “What? Why would you do that?”

“She’s known for a while,” Haechan continues, smiling lightly at your reaction. “Remember the day I started visiting the office to see you?”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you scoff, somehow looking caught between confusion and shock. “It’s been like… almost a month by now. Are you telling me she’s known this entire time?”

He chuckles, taking a sip of his own glass. “You’re so clueless, Barbie,” Haechan teases, bumping his shoulder against yours. “I thought you’d notice the day you met both of us at the office. She wasn’t being very subtle about it.”

With a defeated groan, you shoot him a timid glance. “How much does she know?”

“Who do you think I am? I’m not disclosing my sex life to my mother,” he protests, frowning dreadfully as you burst into a laugh. “I only told her we met at a bar, exchanged numbers, and that we talked every once in a while.”

“She didn’t mention anything,” you start, looking a little apprehensive. “Like, she tried to set me up with you for so long. I would’ve thought she’d say something about it knowing that we… you know.”

“That might have been on me? I asked her to not say anything,” Haechan answers hesitantly, a half apologetic smile curling on his lips. “I didn’t want to put you in trouble at work because we had something going on—and I know you were a little hesitant because of it, so…”

You watch him for a brief second, long enough for his mind to overdrive. “We should eat before the food gets cold.”

Despite feeling completely enamored by your sudden little spiel, Haechan swallows a groan of frustration when you start listing the impromptu menu, the moment now broken as the conversation takes another route.

The food’s cleared when the mood subtly shifts again, half of the wine bottle gone while your playlist comes down to softer, slower songs. 

As you shift closer to him, both still sitting on the floor of your living room, he can’t help but savor how shy you look. “So… how did you like it?”

Haechan tilts his head to take a better look at your face, his grin widening at your eye roll at his antics. “I was wondering if you’re open for breakfast tomorrow morning.”

“It depends,” you answer, voice a tone cheekier despite how quiet it sounds. “I’ve got tomorrow off. Are you staying or leaving after breakfast?”

He exhales a laugh, running a hand through his hair. “You’re driving me crazy for real, Barbie.” 

On your knees, you move closer just enough to cup Haechan’s face, pressing a tentative, soft kiss to his lips. Taken by surprise, it takes a second for the pin to drop in his brain, warmth spreading through his body like wildfire as soon his arms close around your waist, pulling you closer until you’re settled on his lap. 

As he leans into your touch, breaking the kiss with a sigh from you, Haechan can’t help a grin. Catching your breath with your forehead resting against his, you laugh at his dazed expression, pressing a smooch to his cheek. 

With a blink, he groans playfully. “Oh, I’m definitely staying for breakfast now.”

You smile softly, shaking your head but not pulling away from him. “You’re impossible.”

“You love it,” Haechan murmurs, hands brushing down your back as he tilts his head up, lips just barely touching yours. “Another one, please?”

Giving him another quick kiss, you smile against his mouth, lingering closer for a second. “I think Jungwoo’s got a few t-shirts here that should fit you.”

“You have another man’s clothes in your home?” he asks, feigning an irked frown as his head falls back in a dramatic fashion. “Oh, I’m going to be sick.”

Though the smile on your face gives you away, you still don’t resist rolling your eyes at his antics. “Are you done?”

Shaking his head, Haechan offers you his habitual grin. “I’m never done.”

When you don’t immediately respond, the silence shifts the atmosphere for a bit. Watching as your gaze softens, you take him by surprise brushing your fingers against his cheek, purposefully over the moles on his face.

Your voice is quieter now, almost warm with sincerity as you speak up. “Thank you for coming over, Hyuck.”

Trying to play it off as best as he can, heart pounding against his chest, Haechan chuckles fondly. “I guess that means you’re stuck with me now.” 

“I guess so.” You laugh, eyes sparkling at the unspoken promise. “You don’t seem too upset about it, though.” 

As he tightens the hold around your frame, bringing you closer again, Haechan feels you relax into his embrace. The agreement settles between you as easily as the evening ends, his lips pressing a final kiss to your forehead without much words—just your shared understanding and quiet certainty. 

“Can’t be upset when I’m exactly where I want to be, Barbie.”

The car rolls to a stop outside the beautifully decorated venue, Christmas lights casting a soft glow at the grand entrance of Mrs. Lee’s lavish Holiday dinner.

As he turns off the engine, Hyuck still seems a little taken by the vibrant pink of your gown, glancing over at you with a very familiar look. 

“Once we walk through that door, it’s over for you,” he jokes, though a hint of something else betrays the playfulness of his voice. “Are you sure about this?”

Leaning over the console, you kiss him a little too forcefully, a sound of protest escaping from Haechan’s lips when you pull back. “I’m sure, Hyuckie,” you answer, giggling at the look on his face. “We should go before someone thinks we’re doing something in here.”

A grin takes over his face, looking a little too invested in your scenario. “Baby, that’s the greatest idea you’ve had—” Haechan stops himself at the slap on his arm, laughing as he unlocks the doors. “Alright, I got it, I’m sorry.”

Outside, he helps you adjust the straps at the back of your dress, pressing a last kiss to your shoulder before sliding his hand into yours. “Let’s go, Barbie.”

Together, you head towards whatever surprises the night might hold.

EXTRA: SCREENTIME

MASTERLIST

[wandering-pirate]

Mouthwashing Characters Headcanon

How the Crew Takes Care of You on Your Period

Captain Curly

Knows your cycle so well that he starts prepping his monthly Captain Curly Period Kit a week before it starts

The kit includes all hygiene products that you need including painkillers, five of your favorite chocolate bars and the best part: candid photos he had secretly taken of you, each with a note underneath

The notes ranged from awful period puns to sweet compliments. This man knows how to keep you happy, physically and emotionally

Whispers comforting words as you sob over a character’s death during movie night

Though once, it was about a cockroach getting pancaked on screen

"Babe, that roach? It’s in a better place now—cockroach heaven. Endless trash buffets, living its best afterlife”

Spoiler: it worked

Checks in on you throughout the day, either with a sweet “How’s my baby feeling?” text or by dropping into the room for a quick chat, always making sure you feel loved and cared for

He understands how hormones can mess up with your mood and always reassures you that he isn't going anywhere

Co-pilot Jimmy

The man has somehow mastered the art of finding all the right spots to massage when you're doubled over with cramps or just feeling downright miserable

What you don’t know is that he once secretly googled “how to massage girlfriend in pain” (in incognito mode cause his ego won't just let him ask outright)

Big mistake. Huge. He was immediately bombarded with nsfw content, all roleplay, mostly rough

Let’s just say it took half a day, several deep breaths, and a burning face before he stumbled onto an actual helpful website

Ever since then, he’s been sneaking off to “practice.” But it got a little weird one day

Every time you passed by, he’d be glued to his phone, staring at it with this weirdly intense look, and his free hand squeezing the air at different angles

“Uh… babe? Are you… hallucinating? Maybe some floating breast action?”

“Huh? Wha—no! Unless you’re jealous of the air now, darling. Should I be worried?”

It all paid off when you let out those godly noises he loved, his hands were massaging with just the right pressure and on the right places

To top it off, he even got an essential oil in your favorite scent

Not without drama, though—apparently, walking into Bath & Body Works fully hooded and masked with shades doesn't scream 'thoughtful boyfriend'. It screams robber

Mechanic Swansea

The man and his craftsman hands will do anything to make you comfortable

Need a hot compress? Heats up grains, puts it in a sackcloth bag and places it in your lower belly

On days when you feel ugly looking in the mirror? Secretly blurs them slightly with shampoo or soap

Cold hands? Wraps yours in his larger ones

The kids being too loud while you're in a damp mood? He'd play tea parties with them (he was crowned the princess of all dragons)

Before sleeping, he always lay the towel down at your side of the bed whenever you're at the bathroom

Even built you a custom wooden cabinet that dispenses pads and tampons efficiently. Always stocked because he secretly checks it regularly

You have to force him to sit or lay down with you when he would be silently stressing out on what more to do

"Swansea, love, you're all I need right now, just stay here with me"

Nurse Anya

The nurse uses her medical and psychological expertise like a pro, making your period feel a lot less miserable

Meds are always your bestfriend whenever your killer cramps hit and she made sure to always carry all kinds of painkillers and have every dosage for each pain scale you're in

Wincing and doubling down? she's quick to ask

"Scale of 1 to 10?"

Even when she’s busy, she finds little ways to remind you you’re not alone like leaving sticky notes with doodles of you or your favorite characters in places where you’ll find them

After noticing how you loved wrapping your feet in blankets, she got you matching fuzzy socks that you now have to wear whenever she’s around (because she’s wearing hers too)

Lovingly strokes your back and hair while you scream at reality show contestants for choosing the dumbest of choices

Very much amused and nods along every time you asked her if you're both witnessing the same stupidity

Intern Daisuke

The boy is sometimes dense but when it comes to you, he sure isn't incompetent

One day, when the bed was way too soft to escape from, you did the only logical thing: text him

"Hey Dai, can you buy me some tampons? forgot to buy some yesterday"

"Be there in 5 babe! (⁠づ⁠￣⁠ ⁠³⁠￣⁠)⁠づ"

And he meant it

He gave the pharmacist a heart attack by storming in and loudly asking for a box of tampons

Proceeded to grill them on what brands were most likely to leak so he'd avoid them (no shame whatsoever)

Never arrived empty-handed. Along with the tampons, he’ll pick up a plushie, a cute keychain, a little hair accessory or literally anything he knows that will let him see your pretty smile

He’ll wrap you both up in comforters, flashdrive loaded with all your comfort movies, from romcoms to horror

The mission? Movie marathon until you're both knocked out

Despite shrieking at every jumpscare, he still kisses your forehead between scenes, like you’re the one who needs reassurance (Spoiler: he needed those forehead kisses more)

a/n: thanks so much for reading! headcanon requests are very much appreciated ʕ•⁠ᴥ⁠•⁠ʔ

[latrespada]

ᯓ ✈︎ rotten to the core

Caleb’s jealousy knows no bounds. He becomes fiercely possessive whenever anyone gets too close to you, especially if he sees you interacting with someone else. The moment he perceives a threat, a "punishment" follows, one that’s far from ordinary. His discipline feels more like a mix of control and intimacy, blurring the line between pain and pleasure. As intense as it is, you can’t help but crave more, questioning if it’s truly a punishment when it leaves you yearning for more of him.

lads caleb x reader

warnings: jealousy, teasing, light bondage, couch sex, finger sucking, caleb's evol going out of control, slight choking, possessive sex, rough sex, sex while on the phone

6k words rated : e

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62332453

A/N: I find Caleb's jealousy attractive; not the toxic kind, but the pathetic type that tries to one-up everyone, even over trivial matters. Also the possessive jealousy. That is HOT!!

Take note of Caleb’s outfit in this; it's that nerdy one he wore in his trailer when he’s upset for poking his plumpy butt. The one with the white sleeveless top and his thick, beefy, veiny bicep. And the glasses.

If you don't know what I mean, check it out : https://x.com/kittysylus/status/1879371878793724285/photo/2

CRED divider by @enchanthings-a

The golden hues of the setting sun spill through the windows as you step into your home, finally free after a long day of finishing work reports and your monthly physical. The sight of Caleb sprawled out on the couch immediately warms you. He’s lounging with one arm propped behind his head, a book balanced casually in his hand, the picture of relaxed ease.

“I’m home,” you call out as you flop onto the couch, not caring that you’re practically lying on him.

“Hectic day?” he asks, his voice low, a welcome balm to your weary mind.

“Not really,” you murmur, rolling onto your back and wedging yourself into the narrow space between him and the couch cushions. “I’d still rather be off fighting Wanderers than stuck doing paperwork, though.”

“At least you weren’t in danger,” Caleb replies, turning a page in his book before tucking his arm back behind his head.

You sigh deeply, staring at the ceiling. “I had another appointment with Zayne today. The results are steady, which is good. I just have to keep taking my meds.”

Caleb’s tone shifts slightly when he replies, darker somehow. “Is that so?”

You glance up at him, sensing the tension in his words. He’s staring at the book, but it’s clear his thoughts are miles away.

“Yeah…” you answer cautiously, tilting your head to catch his eye. When he notices your gaze, he snaps the book shut and tosses it to the floor with a thud.

“Does Zayne really need to be your doctor?” Caleb asks abruptly, his voice laced with something unspoken.

You blink, startled. “I mean, he’s the best cardiologist—”

“I know that,” Caleb interrupts, his words sharp but not unkind. “But that doesn’t really answer my question.” He reaches out and places a hand over your face, shaking your head gently, as if to dismiss the topic.

You bat his hand away and sit up, turning to face him directly. “Don’t I deserve the best there is?” Your tone carries a faint edge, one you didn’t intend, but it’s there nonetheless—a hint of hurt.

Caleb frowns, his expression clouding with something close to jealousy. “You do,” he admits, but the words come out like a hiss.

“Then Zayne will stay my doctor,” you say firmly, standing and blowing him a playful kiss as you make your way toward the kitchen.

Behind you, Caleb mutters under his breath, then calls after you, “Why him, though? Isn’t there some policy against this?”

You stop in your tracks and turn to him, confused. “What are you talking about?”

Caleb gets up and strides toward you, his smirk not quite masking the seriousness in his eyes. “You can’t have some sort of intimate relationship with your doctor—family, romantic, whatever. Maybe I should report him.” He chuckles, but the sound is hollow.

You close the distance between you, placing a hand firmly on his chest. “That’s not funny, Caleb,” you say, pouting as you meet his gaze.

His laughter fades, replaced by a look you can’t quite read. The tension lingers in the air between you, heavy and unspoken, but the warmth of his presence anchors you nonetheless.

“I’m joking. Since when can’t you take a hint?” Caleb ruffles your hair as he walks past you, heading into the kitchen. He’s trying to play it cool, but there’s an edge to his voice, something unresolved. “What should we have for dinner?”

You lean over the counter, your arms folded, watching him closely. The way his shoulders tense, as he opens and closes cabinets, gives him away. It’s painfully obvious that his mind is still on Zayne.

You can’t help but laugh softly to yourself.

Caleb freezes mid-motion, turning to face you with a puzzled expression. “Oh great, you’re probably thinking of a joke he said.”

You snort. “Zayne and jokes, really?”

Silence falls between you, heavy but not uncomfortable. The two of you lock eyes, a silent battle of wills. His expression falters for just a second, enough for you to see that even he knows how ridiculous his comment is. Zayne’s humor is notoriously flat, and everyone knows it. Caleb breaks eye contact first, turning back to rummage through the cabinets, feigning interest in their contents.

You rest your chin on your crossed arms, a smirk playing on your lips as you study him. You know Caleb like the back of your hand—better than anyone. He’s never been one to openly admit jealousy, but his actions scream it louder than words ever could. Caleb has a compulsive need to be the one who makes you smile the widest, laugh the loudest, and feel the most alive.

The thing is, Caleb’s never shown this kind of jealousy toward Zayne before. Back in the day, things were simple; everyone was friendly, and there was no room for these petty emotions. But ever since you became a hunter, with mandatory check-ups and more frequent visits to Zayne’s clinic, Caleb’s demeanor started to shift. Not that he’d ever outright forbid you from doing something—he knows better than to try that—but his subtle, possessive tendencies? Oh, they’re there, and they’re obvious.

You bite your lip, a mischievous glint in your eyes. You’re plotting now, deliberately trying to press his buttons.

“You’re so clingy, Caleb,” you drawl, dragging the words out just enough to poke the bear.

“Hm.” His nonchalant response is laced with tension.

“I mean, just last week, you did the same thing.”

That gets him. Caleb slams a box of pasta onto the counter with a thud, his palms splaying out as he leans forward, head tilting back toward the ceiling like he’s begging for patience. He inhales deeply before turning his head, not his body, to look at you. His eyes are sharp, and piercing, and there’s an intensity to them that makes your breath hitch.

“I said I was sorry,” he says, his tone eerily calm, almost robotic.

“Yeah, well, things escalated, and he heard us,” you grumble, leaning back for effect.

Caleb picks up the pasta box again, shaking it as he waves his arms dramatically. “Why does the upstairs neighbor even need to talk to you every time he sees you?” he complains. “What’s his name again, Xander?”

“Xavier,” you correct without missing a beat.

Caleb freezes mid-motion. His shoulders stiffen as he turns his head just slightly, his expression neutral but with just enough of a comedic edge—thick-framed glasses perched on his nose, his jaw set—to make you stifle a laugh.

You catch the faintest twitch in his bicep, a telltale sign that your teasing is working.

You press your hand to your mouth, trying to smother a grin and the laughter bubbling in your throat. You know full well that Caleb remembers Xavier’s name perfectly; he just deliberately got it wrong to downplay how much he pays attention. And now, judging by the look on his face, he regrets giving you an opening to correct him.

“He’s my work partner,” you say with a light chuckle, trying to sound casual. “We were talking about work…” You pause briefly for effect, watching his expression remain frozen. “A work gathering.”

The silence that follows is heavy with unspoken thoughts, but the way Caleb’s jaw tightens just enough lets you know you’ve gotten under his skin. You don’t mind, though—it’s all part of the game.

“And what? Did this Xavier complain?” Caleb sneers, dragging out the name like it leaves a bad taste in his mouth. His exaggerated disdain is so obvious, it’s hard not to laugh.

“No,” you reply with a chuckle. “Worried, maybe. But honestly, how do you even explain that situation?”

Caleb rolls his eyes in mock frustration, the gesture exaggerated but not unexpected.

“And to answer your earlier question,” you continue, pointing a finger at him while puckering your lips for emphasis, “Zayne isn’t breaking any rules.”

Caleb’s gaze drops to the box of pasta in his hands as if seeking answers there. His silence speaks volumes, and you can almost see the cogs turning in his head. He’s not even trying to mask his annoyance anymore.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” you tease, leaning casually against the counter. “Zayne and I do have a personal connection, but that was way before he became my doctor. Besides, we lost touch long before any of that. So, technically…” you smirk, “no rules are being broken.”

Caleb tosses the pasta box onto the counter with the dramatics of a jilted soap opera star, the motion so over-the-top it makes you laugh.

His jealousy is nothing new—it’s always been there, simmering beneath the surface. But when it comes to Zayne, it’s glaringly obvious and almost endearing. What makes it funnier is that the jealousy is entirely one-sided.

He doesn’t speak. Instead, he just stares, his gaze unyielding but not threatening, more predatory. The intensity in his eyes sends a shiver down your spine, but you bite your lip to hide the thrill it gives you.

Finally, Caleb strides toward you with purpose. Your arms instinctively fling open as if welcoming his approach, and his hands grip your waist firmly—almost possessively. It stings, but not unpleasantly. Before you can process it, you hop up, wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck.

His nose brushes against yours, the warmth of his breath fanning across your lips as he whispers, “It’s not fair. He gets to listen to your heart, to be so close to your chest.”

You laugh softly, his childish complaint both absurd and hypocritical. Caleb spends more time listening to your heartbeat than Zayne ever could. Every chance he gets, he lays his head on your chest, claiming it’s his right.

“Zayne needs a stethoscope to hear my heart,” you tease, letting your voice drop into a husky, breathy tone. “But you don’t need that.”

In one swift motion, Caleb spins you around and lays you flat against the counter, his hands gripping your hips. His lips trail down your torso, his breath hot against your skin.

“I should be the only one listening to your heart,” he murmurs, his voice low and possessive. “I mean, I’m pretty sure I know every inch of your body better than any doctor. Why would you even need them?”

“Doctors can tell a murmur from a regular heartbeat,” you retort with a smirk.

“I’m done talking about cardiology,” Caleb mutters, his grin wicked. “I was talking about other doctors.”

He spreads your legs slightly, resting his head against your stomach, his breath fanning over your skin as he exhales deeply.

“Am I being punished again?” you ask, your voice laced with a mix of amusement and curiosity.

“Do you want to be?” he mumbles, his lips brushing against your skin.

You chuckle softly, biting your bottom lip. “No.” With a quick push against his head, you slide off the counter before he can pin you further. “I need to get out of these clothes. It’s been a long day,” you say, your tone dripping with sass.

As you move past him, Caleb grabs your wrist, his grip firm but not forceful. “Let me help, then.”

“No,” you reply, shaking his hand off with mock defiance.

He sighs, his voice dipping into a playful growl. “Be a good girl.”

“No.”

“Sit.”

Before you can process what’s happening, your knees buckle, and you find yourself on all fours, your hands bracing against the floor for balance. Caleb’s gravity control Evol pins you down just enough to make his point.

“Atta girl,” he teases, his tone light yet commanding. He crouches before you, tilting your chin up with a gentle but firm hand. “Let. Me. Help. You.”

“He’s going to hear us again,” you giggle, finally achieving the reaction you’d been aiming for.

“Then tell him to stop eavesdropping, pipsqueak,” Caleb retorts with a smirk.

Releasing his control, he effortlessly picks you up and tosses you over his shoulder. With a playful grin, he throws you onto the couch and towers over you, his overwhelming and intoxicating presence.

“Another word and I’ll have to keep you quiet,” he warns, reaching for his glasses.

You grab his wrists, your eyes wide and pleading. “No, don’t!” you gasp, as if what you’re about to say is of utmost importance. “I really like those glasses,” you pant.

He pauses, his confusion almost comical.

“I think they’re better than Zayne’s,” you add with a sly smile, exhaling deeply.

Caleb’s lips twitch as he suppresses a grin. “You’re so greedy when you want something, aren’t you?” Without waiting for a reply, he slips two fingers into your mouth, his touch teasing and deliberate, a silent dare for you to defy him again.

The wet, suctioning sound of your lips wrapped around Caleb’s fingers is maddeningly erotic, a melody of your surrender and his control. His fingers press harder against your tongue, sending a jolt down your spine. You gag reflexively, but instead of pulling away, your hands shoot up to grip his wrists, holding him in place, determined not to cough them out. His fingers glide in and out in steady, rhythmic waves, teasing and deliberate, while your chest rises and falls with labored breaths. Tears prick the corners of your eyes, but you keep them locked on his lips.

Caleb’s tongue darts out, wetting his lips before his teeth catch the bottom one in a fierce bite. His eyes, dark with intent, linger on the way your cheeks hollow with every movement of his hand. It’s written all over his face: this is a prelude to what he really wants. He’d rather have your mouth working over his dick than his fingers.

With a low chuckle, he pulls his fingers free, leaving your lower lip glistening with saliva. He holds his hand up, watching the way the wetness glimmers under the dim light. “You really enjoy using yourself as your own lubricant, don’t you?” he says with a teasing laugh, his voice dripping with smug amusement.

“It’s natural,” you pant, wiping the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand.

Caleb shifts, rising onto his knees as he peels off his shirt, tossing it carelessly onto the coffee table. His toned torso gleams, and he snaps his fingers at you, motioning for you to sit up straight. You comply without hesitation, adjusting your posture as he towers over you.

With one knee between your legs and the other planted firmly on the couch, he removes his dog tag, dragging the cool chain across your face. “You know the rules,” he says, his grin wicked.

You pout, rolling your eyes. “I gave you that as a gift, and you’re always using it for your twisted games.”

He smirks. “Then get me another one.”

“No way. It’s one of a kind.” You slide your hands up his torso, fingers tracing every dip and ridge of his muscles. “There’s no duplicate. It’s yours and only yours,” you murmur, cupping his face. Finally, you clasp your wrists together in silent surrender, signaling you’re ready.

Caleb places the dog tag between his teeth. He tugs at the hem of your shirt and in one swift motion, it’s off, discarded to the side. You unclasp your bra, letting it slip from your shoulders as he deftly begins wrapping the chain around your wrists.

“You could use your evol this time,” you suggest, your voice sultry and playful.

His hands pause for a moment, his eyes focused on the chain. “Yeah,” he mutters, though his tone is uncertain. “Last time I tried that, I used it on the bed instead of you. Snapped the legs and bottom planks clean off.”

A smile escapes you, breaking the tension. “That was your fault.”

“Fair,” he admits with a mischievous grin, “but with the way you were screaming my name and begging for more, I got… distracted.” He pulls the chain taut around your wrists, his eyes locking with yours. The tightness isn’t just around your wrists—it’s in the air, a tension so thick it makes your heart race.

Before you can say anything, he grabs his shirt that he tossed aside earlier. Caleb moves behind the couch, you tilt your head back to catch a glimpse of him. He’s smiling, a wicked grin that makes your pulse race. He steps closer, and gently pushes your head forward. “Let’s try something new,” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing. The soft fabric of the shirt wraps around your eyes, plunging you into darkness.

Your heart stutters, a mix of excitement and apprehension swelling inside you. What does he have planned? Did you push him too far this time? The not knowing leaves you vulnerable, every nerve ending alive with anticipation. Bound and blindfolded, you realize the gravity of your position. Your hands are useless, your sight is gone, and as the shirt muffles the sounds around you, you feel the loss of another sense creeping in. You’re at his mercy, and the uncertainty is both thrilling and maddening.

You strain your ears, desperate for any clue to his movements. The soft padding of his footsteps echoes faintly, but you can’t discern their direction. Is he in front of you? Behind you? The muffled noise seems to come from everywhere and nowhere. You sit still, biting your lip to stifle a nervous breath.

Then, the sound sharpens—familiar and unmistakable. His shoes hit the floor with a soft thud. Your breath hitches as the faint jingle of his belt buckle follows, the metallic clink chilling you to the core. The slow, deliberate rasp of his zipper being pulled down comes next, and you swallow hard. You hear the rustling of fabric sliding against his skin before the faint sound of his pants hitting the floor.

Your pulse pounds in your ears. Caleb is naked. And you are completely unaware of where he is. From which angle he’ll approach, you have no idea. The suspense builds with every passing second, your senses heightened as your imagination runs wild. Every breath, every rustle of fabric, every shift in the air sends a jolt of anticipation through you.

In an instant, you’re pulled, your body shifting swiftly before you can even process it. You find yourself lying awkwardly on the couch, your legs raised high, teetering off balance. The soft plop of your shoes hitting the floor fills the room, and then his hands are on you—strong, purposeful. His touch slides down your calves, lingering at your thighs before settling firmly. It’s clear now—your legs are on his shoulders.

The faint sound of your belt unbuckling breaks through the haze of anticipation, followed by the slow, deliberate unbuttoning of your pants. You feel the cool air on your skin as he slides them down with excruciating patience, taking your underwear with them. The quiet thud of your discarded clothes hitting the ground feels final, leaving you bare and exposed.

Caleb lowers your legs gently, guiding you upward. His hand rests on your back, firm yet careful, directing you as you take a few hesitant steps. The walk is short, and before you can ask what he’s doing, he presses your back forward, bending your upper body over the armrest of the couch. Your belly rests against the soft fabric as he positions you, spreading your legs apart just enough to make you feel vulnerable, your feet planted firmly on the ground.

His hands are warm as they settle on your lower back, and then you feel it—the slow, teasing slide of him rubbing against you. The head of his dick brushes your clit with deliberate precision, sending sparks of heat shooting through you. A silent moan escapes your lips as he continues the agonizing tease, his movements designed to drive you to the edge of madness.

Caleb leans in, his breath ghosting over your ear. “As of now,” he whispers, his voice low and dripping with desire, “I’m pretty sure I’m the only one who knows how fast your heart is going.” With no warning, he thrusts into you, forcing a gasp from your lips.

“Nngh… Caleb…” you moan, your voice trembling.

His rhythm is relentless from the start, his hips driving into you with an intensity that leaves you breathless. Each thrust pulls a sound from you, your bound hands trapped beneath your chest as the chain lightly grazes your skin, heightening every sensation.

“Haah… fuck,” Caleb groans, his voice rough with pleasure. “Do you even know… ha… how possessive I can get?”

You’re silent, unable to form words as your face presses into the couch, your teeth biting down on the fabric in an attempt to stifle your cries.

“And to… ahh, fuck,” he chuckles darkly, his voice strained. “To edge me on like that… mmhn… you must like—” His words are cut off by his guttural moan as his body shudders.

Leaning forward, his teeth sink into your shoulder, the sharp sensation blending with the intensity of his thrusts. His hips angle upward now, hitting a spot that sends you spiraling, his warm breath fanning across your skin.

“Mmmh, Caleb…” is all you can manage, your voice raw and pleading as he consumes every part of you.

Caleb shifts his weight, pulling back just long enough to stand upright. With fluidity and strength, he flips you onto your back. The movement leaves you momentarily breathless, your body pliant beneath his control. He raises one of your legs over his shoulder, his fingers gripping your calf with a possessive firmness. The other leg, he adjusts carefully, ensuring your foot rests securely on the armrest, but not before gently pushing it outward, spreading you even wider for him.

His breathing is labored now, audible and heavy, and though you can’t see him clearly, you can imagine the sight of his chest. Broad, muscular, and glistening with sweat, rising and falling with each ragged inhale. It’s a sight that would’ve stolen your breath, if it hadn’t already been taken by the moment.

One of his arms snakes around the leg draped over his shoulder, locking it in place with a grip that’s equal parts firm and tender. His other hand anchors itself on your hip, steadying you as he positions himself. And then he begins again.

The first thrust sends a jolt of pleasure through you, his rhythm rough yet calculated, each movement hitting the spot that leaves you trembling. His hips snap forward with a force that feels primal, yet controlled, a deliberate effort to draw out every sound, every reaction from you. You’re soaked, your arousal slick against him. The lewd sound of your bodies meeting fills the room, every thrust accompanied by the wet squelch of your fluids mixing. It’s intoxicating.

He leans in slightly, his lips hovering close, his voice dropping to a low, husky whisper as he murmurs your name. The way he says it feels reverent, like a prayer or a plea, and it makes your chest tighten.

“Yeah…” you breathe, your voice soft and airy, surrendering to the moment.

“Let me be…” he pauses, “…let me be the only one… to make your heart—” His voice falters, replaced by a sensual chuckle, deep and rough. “God, let me be the only one to make your heart race like this.”

“Mhm…” your reply comes out sweet but low, carried on a sigh. “Okay…”

The air between you and Caleb is electric, every touch igniting sparks that threaten to burn you from the inside out. With your leg still firm on the armrest, you use it to push your body to the other side, forcing Caleb to adjust. As your leg drops off his shoulder, he moves instinctively, following your silent invitation to walk around the couch.

Before you can process his next move, he’s sitting in front of you, pulling you up with ease until you’re perched on his lap. His hands are warm and firm, one gripping his dick as he guides himself back inside you, the other trailing up your back in a slow, deliberate motion. His fingers rake through your hair, sending shivers down your spine, before tangling and tugging gently but possessively. The motion tilts your head back, exposing the curve of your neck to him.

His lips hover there, a breath away from your skin, teasing, promising. You can feel the heat of his desire, the way his breathing deepens as he restrains himself from biting down.

“Mine,” he breathes, his voice thick and husky.

“Yours,” you moan in response, your voice trembling, “always yours.”

The words seem to fuel him further. He releases your hair and leans back into the sofa, his strong frame supporting you effortlessly. You stay balanced on your toes, knees bent, riding him with an aching, deliberate rhythm. His hands grip your waist tightly, guiding you, pulling you down harder onto him as your hips sway back and forth.

He curses your name, his voice dripping with raw hunger.

“Just like that…” he groans.

Your knees finally give out, and you collapse forward, your body trembling. Though your blindfold keeps you from seeing him, you can feel his presence—his lips so close to yours, the warmth of his breath mingling with your own. You bite your lip, a soft laugh escaping through a moan. With your bound hands, you fumble to touch his face, brushing against the frames of the glasses he kept on.

Your frustrated laugh makes him grin, and before you know it, he’s shifting you both, rolling you onto your side. Spooning you, Caleb pulls your top leg back, hooking it around his own. His arm snakes beneath you, gripping your neck gently but firmly, while his other hand finds your bound wrists. You feel his fingers slide beneath the chain binding them, his touch deliberate.

“If I take this off…” he murmurs, his hips pressing forward as he thrusts deeper, making you gasp. “You have to promise to keep the blindfold on. Got that?”

“Okay…” you manage to moan.

“That’s a good girl,” he groans, his laugh dark and low. With a swift pull, the chain loosens, and your hands are free. Before you can react, he places the dog tag in your mouth. “Here, bite this,” he commands, his lips brushing your ear as his tongue flicks against the sensitive skin behind it.

His pace picks up again, rough and insistent, each movement sending waves of heat through your body. His hand on your neck tightens ever so slightly, not enough to hurt, but enough to remind you that he’s in control.

His other hand moves to your breasts, squeezing and kneading, his grip leaving no doubt about how much he wants you.

Desperate to feel closer, you swing your now-free hand behind you, finding his face and pulling him down toward you.

“C-Caleb…” you choke out, his name a breathless plea.

“That’s it,” he chuckles against your skin, his teeth grazing your shoulder before biting down softly. “Say my name. Let me be the only name you call.”

His words are a command and a prayer, each syllable dripping with possession. He presses into you harder, his teeth grazing your skin again, his groans mingling with your moans.

The tension between you and Caleb is palpable, every motion from him driving you further into a realm where pleasure and desperation intertwine. His grip on your neck tightens, stealing your breath in the most intoxicating way, your vision blurring with unshed tears as your body reacts to his overwhelming dominance.

Your voice, broken and raw, escapes in a gagged gasp. “C-Caleb…” The dog tag tumbles from your lips, clinking faintly as it hits the surface below.

Without warning, he flips you onto your stomach. You barely have a moment to adjust before he pulls your hips upward, your breasts pressing into the couch. His thrusts are erratic, primal, and you claw at the armrest, arching your back deeply to meet him. His hand finds your hair, tugging harshly, while his other grips your waist with a force that leaves bruising promises. His silence, punctuated only by rough breaths and muffled grunts, speaks volumes.

You’ve witnessed this before—when his composure cracks and his evol flares, chaos is inevitable. Around you, the room trembles with his lack of control. Items crash to the floor, shattering against the walls. You gasp, instinctively reaching for the blindfold to tear it off, but Caleb’s hand leaves your hair and slams your wrist to the armrest.

“What did you promise?” he growls, his voice venomous yet dripping with that intoxicating edge of command. His fingers lace with yours, pinning your hand firmly.

His pace quickens, his movements losing all semblance of rhythm. You’re caught between gasping for air and choking on moans that feel too loud, too needy. Your head drops forward, but your body remains arched, submitting entirely to the chaos you ignited.

The destruction crescendos until it feels like the entire room collapses in a cacophony of falling objects and Caleb’s unrelenting presence. Then, it stops. Abruptly. Caleb pulls out and steps away, leaving you trembling, breathless, and straining to track his movements through the sound of his footsteps.

“Flip over,” he commands, his tone brooking no argument. You comply, lying on your back, your chest heaving.

He spreads your legs, his touch suddenly gentle as his fingers trace your most sensitive places. He slides them inside you, teasing, coaxing moans from your lips. It’s a stark contrast to his earlier ferocity, and it leaves you spinning.

Then you feel it—a cold, slightly heavy object placed on your chest. It vibrates softly, confusing you until you catch the faint ringing sound. A phone.

Your hand instinctively moves to grab it, but before you can pull your blindfold down to see who he’s calling, Caleb snatches the device away.

“Tch. You’re just not listening today, are you?” His voice carries a mix of irritation and amusement. “Invite him to dinner,” he says, his tone leaving no room for negotiation.

Confusion floods you. Who? But then the line connects, and you hear Zayne’s voice on the other end.

“Hello?” Zayne asks, his voice tinged with polite concern.

Your heart skips a beat as Caleb presses the phone to your ear and aligns himself with you once more, thrusting in with devastating precision. Your hand flies to your mouth, desperately trying to stifle the moan threatening to spill out.

“Zayne!” you yelp, your voice trembling. “W-would you like to… haaa… join Caleb and I for…” You trail off, unable to finish as Caleb’s pace intensifies.

There’s a pause on the other end. “I’ve got work to do, unfortunately,” Zayne replies, his tone shifting slightly, as if he’s picking up on something amiss. “Are you alright? You sound… in pain.”

“I’m okay,” you manage, your voice strained. “You sure… about dinner?”

Caleb chuckles softly, low enough that only you can hear, and it makes your cheeks burn.

“I’m sure,” Zayne says, his tone now skeptical. “Is it your heart? Is that what’s hurting?”

“What?” you gasp, your voice cracking.

“Is it your heart that’s hurting?” Zayne repeats, his voice calm but laced with something knowing.

“No! Of course… ngh… not,” you insist, struggling to keep your composure.

“Hm…” Zayne hums, his voice dropping as if the realization has hit. “Take care of yourself. Doctor’s orders.”

“I will. You too… and… haaa… doctors shouldn’t be skipping meals…” you add quickly, finishing in a rush.

Caleb pulls the phone from your ear, grinning like a cat who’s cornered his prey. “Yeah, the busiest man should at least join us for dinner every once in a while,” he says, his tone laced with taunting competitiveness.

“Hang up!” you insist, your voice tinged with panic.

Caleb smirks, clearly enjoying your reaction, but he obliges, ending the call. He pulls off your blindfold, his mischievous gaze locks onto yours, his dominance and jealousy radiating all around you.

You pull Caleb closer, your legs instinctively wrapping tighter around his waist as his hips snap forward, sending waves of pleasure through you. Your hands push his glasses up, and you kiss him—a gentle initiation that Caleb quickly turns hungry. His lips capture yours, biting softly at your lower lip, his kisses messy and demanding, speaking a language of unspoken need. Your arms wrap around his neck, nails digging into his back as your laughter mingles with soft moans, the sound a harmony of shared desire.

“Let me see,” you sigh, pulling away just enough to speak.

Caleb tilts his body slightly, granting you a glimpse of him sinking into you, his movements hypnotic. The sight drives you to arch your back, pressing your body further into his, making him reach deeper. You gasp, throwing your head back before kissing him again, your lips clinging to his as though he’s the air you need to breathe.

“Mine,” Caleb murmurs between kisses, your name falling from his lips like a vow. The rawness in his voice sends a shiver down your spine.

His rhythm grows relentless, each thrust drawing you closer to your peak. The pressure of his evol pins you firmly against the couch, intensifying every sensation.

“Caleb…” you whimper, your voice breaking, “I’m gonna come…”

“Hold on,” he growls, his voice strained and desperate, as though battling his limits.

“I… I can’t.”

The confession tears through the haze of pleasure, but it only drives him faster, his movements erratic and unrestrained. Your body tightens around him, and his voice grows hoarse as he whispers your name like a prayer.

The tension snaps, pleasure rushing through you in waves, your cries mingling with Caleb’s as he follows. The room shakes under the force of his evol—objects crashing and scattering as the world seems to respond to his intensity.

Breathless, you both collapse into the quiet aftermath, the weight of gravity settling once more.

“Fuck…” you both exhale in unison, voices harmonizing as you lie tangled together, your heartbeats racing in sync.

Caleb’s glasses slip off his face, landing carelessly beside you as he collapses onto your body, his weight pressing you into the couch. His breath is warm against your skin, uneven but soothing. With a gentle shift, he maneuvers you so that you’re lying on top of him, your head resting on his chest.

You listen to the steady rhythm beneath your ear, his heart racing but calm in its consistency. “Your heart’s going fast,” you murmur, a hint of amusement in your tone.

“That’s because of you,” he replies, his voice soft but filled with sincerity. He reaches for the dog tag nestled between you both, pulling it free as he tilts his head down to kiss the top of yours. “I want to be the only one whose heart you make beat like this,” he confesses, his words a vow and a plea all at once.

“You’re impossible,” you tease, your fingers idly tracing around his chest, circling his nipple in lazy patterns.

He catches your hand, his eyes falling to the blistered marks along your skin. His expression tightens with guilt as he lifts your hand to his lips, kissing each mark tenderly, as though his touch could erase them. “I’ve got to stop using this to bind you,” he whispers, his voice laced with regret.

“It’s fine,” you assure him, your breath finally steady. Sitting up, you straddle him, bending down to kiss him softly. His hands rise to cradle your face, his touch gentle, reverent. Your foreheads touch, the dominant air that usually surrounds him dissipating completely.

For a moment, it’s just you and him, hearts beating as one, and the world fades away.

You rest your forehead against his, your breaths mingling as the quiet settles between you. His hands stay on your face, thumbs brushing softly against your cheeks, as if grounding himself in your presence. “Stay like this,” he whispers, the words almost inaudible but weighted with meaning. You nod, your lips curving into a small smile, and close your eyes. In this moment, there’s no jealousy, no chaos—just the warmth of his embrace and the unspoken promise of always coming back to each other.

[meownotgood]

WEEK ONE — masturbation + aki hayakawa, 18+, gn!reader, jerking off, pillow humping, sexual fantasies, edging, a hint of degradation, aki just can't help his feelings for you

kinktober masterlist

Everyone knows Aki has a crush on you. 

It's as obvious as it could possibly be. He's always staring, always coming up with any excuse he can to slip away from work for a while and come talk to you. He leaves frequent gifts on your work desk: notes in his handwriting, flowers or snacks or souvenirs he got for you from Hokkaido. 

He's unusually awkward when your name gets brought up in conversation, he's jittery whenever you're around — The last time you tagged along on the division's monthly drinking night, Aki was practically a mess, choosing to drown himself in as much alcohol as he had the pocket change to order, simply to keep from losing it because you'd sat next to him. Of course you had to sit right next to him. 

You've kept him infatuated for forever now. The thing is, Aki doesn't care if he's obvious. You're so pretty, he thinks. He's thought so from the very beginning. You're pretty and interesting and smart and it isn't his fault; he really can't control how his heart flutters and his head goes dizzy every time you talk to him, it just happens. You just have that effect on him. 

He can't help but feel shy every time you call his name in that sweet voice of yours; so polite, sticking to Hayakawa-sir even though he's told you before that you can use his first name. You grin every time, and you explain, But you get embarrassed when I call you Hayakawa. He can't help it when his face turns red all the way to the tips of his ears because you're teasing him, giving him a hard time for how stuttery he's getting. 

You were particularly teasing today. Aki knew you must've been in a good mood from the moment he arrived at headquarters. You held him by his arm, you cooed praises into his ear for how hard he's been working lately. Told him if he ever needed a break, he could come to your office any time he wants to and you'd give him a massage or make him some coffee. You insist. 

Maybe that's why he can't sleep right now. 

He's tried to get some sleep this time, he seriously has. He hates when he's like this. When he finds he's unable to stop thinking about you, he'll try everything he can to wind down and make himself forget. He'll go for a run to try and get his energy out, take an ice cold shower, smoke until his lungs are burning to attempt to quell the noise in his mind, and yet tonight, none of that has worked. 

Nothing can chase away those thoughts of you, those memories of your pretty face and your teasing hands. Nothing convinces his heart to stop pounding within his chest. Aki tosses, turns. His sheets rustle and his mattress shifts underneath his weight. 

It's a real conundrum. He's felt hot all over ever since he climbed into bed. His face is warm, he's practically sweating. Turning again, he takes a quick glance at his alarm clock, the screen reads 11:54 which is several hours since he first attempted to sleep and a few minutes since he last checked it. 

You were touching him so much today. So much, more than he's used to, even for you. No-one else ever touches him like that, nobody ever hugs him, holds his hand, makes him feel wanted. He wonders if you know how worked up you get him, if you can tell his heart is racing, or know the reason why he's shifting is because his slacks are getting tight. 

11:56, now. Aki's head is spinning. 

This is stupid, wrong of him, even. He's not super close to you. You're just one of the Public Safety office workers. If he wants to be technical, he could be considered your superior, actually. A superior fantasizing about one of the little devil hunter assistants. He's terrible. 

Aki can't help but yearn to feel your touch elsewhere, everywhere. He needs it, needs you, warmth buds in his core and there's a steady ache between his legs. He was short on breath before, when you'd grabbed his arm and pressed real close, and even now, just from thinking about it, he's — 

Fuck. Aki twists, rolling from his side onto his back, he rubs his knotted up temple with his finger and his thumb. It's too much. You're going to be the death of him. 

His breath comes out heavy and shaking and loud in his ears. His chest rises up and down, his trembling fingers slip under the blanket, then underneath the waistband of his sweats, and his heart begins to pound faster in anticipation, hammering against his ribs.

He hesitates for a second. In the end, he gives in like he always does. Shame pools thick in the pit of his stomach, but it isn't enough to stop him from working his hand down — His palm brushes the soft fabric of his briefs, he gropes the shape of his cock through his boxers and he's already stiff. He sighs, he lets his head toss back. 

You'll forgive him for this, right? You'd forgive him for getting hard when all you did was barely touch him, and for using thoughts of you to get himself off, wouldn't you? He's just so lonely, so stressed out, that's all this is. You have to forgive him, you have to understand. Aki swiftly decides you would, because he can't wait any longer; he's been needy like this for hours upon hours now and at this point, it's far too late for him to stop. 

Aki pushes the blanket away, he tugs his sweats and his briefs down to his thighs at the same time, he hisses when his cock comes free. Slowly, he wraps his palm around, and he brings his thumb to the head, rubs it slow, feels himself throb steadily in his hand. 

He's already dripping, precum beads in droplets at his slit and dribbles down to dirty his knuckles, each of his fingers. There's wetness sticking to his palm. A disgusting sound echoes as he pumps himself, up and down nice and careful, his bottom lip drawn between his teeth. 

It feels so fucking good. Aki groans in pleasure, immediately forgets how perverted this is, he closes his eyes, thinks of you. He isn't the type to do this, he's never felt this way about anyone, he doesn't even touch himself because he's never had a reason to — but you've changed everything. 

You're the reason for this, and when he's got his cock in his fist, you're all he can think about. He imagines your touch, your voice, your warm breath on his skin. Aki tries to picture how it'd feel to kiss you, to press his lips on yours and have your tongue in his mouth. How it'd feel to hold you, to have you be the one to jerk him off. 

Your hands are so perfect; Aki's memorized the way they look, the way they fold when you're writing or grabbing his arm or holding your drink. They're dainty compared to his, they'd probably feel softer, so much gentler. Ever since a few weeks ago, he's fallen into the habit of using his left hand to touch himself as opposed to his right. It's clumsier this way, but it's easier to imagine his hand is someone else's, yours. 

Your soft hand around his dick, stroking him just like this — Aki doesn't know if he'd be able to last. If he'd even be able to look at you, let alone talk, let alone do anything but plead your name.

Your fingers are so pretty, you'd complimented him once, Aki remembers how you sat next to him and intently watched him sign paperwork like it was the most interesting thing in the world. He'd shaken his head and written you off then, but he wants to know if you'd compliment him again, if you'd still think so when his fingers are cradling your face or pushing past your lips. 

Would you still think he's as pretty — his fingers wrapped around his cock, his hair down and how you like it, his earrings you say you like so much glinting in the low light — if you saw him like this? 

He wonders if you'd tease him the same as you do at the office. Oh, Mister Hayakawa, you've been wanting this for so long, haven't you? You're so fucking dirty. How long have you been jerking yourself off every night to the thought of me? So damn needy, you just want me to take care of you, huh? 

Yeah, he's dirty, he's rocking his hips into his grip, he's whining and sighing soft gasps of pleasure, louder than he probably should be. He's pumping his fist faster as he pictures your face down between his legs; you'd look precious with your hair tucked back, your lips would feel as plush as he'd imagined and you'd stare up at him with such an innocent expression, your eyes practically sparkling as you take his cock in your mouth. 

He can't take it. Aki pants with weight behind every breath, he twists his wrist and squeezes, pumps even faster and thinks he just might lose his mind right here — and then, he takes his hand away. 

He lets go, his dick falls against his stomach and he keeps one hand in his hair and the other beside him, despite how badly his nerves are screaming for him to keep touching. He allows his breath to even out, stares at the ceiling and waits for his mind to clear.

He doesn't want to cum yet. Not when it's only been a few minutes. If he cums now, he'll probably get too exhausted to cum a second time. So he can't, not right now, not when he has more he wants to think about. 

Twisting over on his side, Aki brushes his bangs away when they fall messily around his face. He presses his palm to his forehead, feeling the sweat trickling from his skin. His fingers twitch. He debates what he's about to do for a few seconds.

He shouldn't, it'll be a hassle. But when he knows how good it's going to feel, he can't resist. Hurrying, he lifts his head and grabs his pillow from underneath, he adjusts, burying his face in the sheets when it starts to feel warmer. He situates himself on his stomach, pillow firm between his legs. 

Deep, slow rolls of his hips cause him to forget any of the sense he was still holding onto. He exhales hard, shakes even harder. Aki fists the sheets in a tight hand, he leans his head into his forearm, he grinds his aching cock against his pillow until his thighs are beginning to hurt.

If he was more confident, confident enough to tell you how he feels, maybe he wouldn't be in this mess. Maybe if you knew, you'd let him fold you over his bed and fuck you just like how he's been dreaming of, slowly and dizzyingly tender, enough to make him forget about everything else. Maybe. If he's good. God, does he even deserve it? 

Either way, it doesn't matter what he wants. He'll do whatever the hell you ask him to, whatever you'd be willing to give him he'd be happy with — He'd be content just fucking the space between your thighs, or having you talk to him while he gets himself off and humps his pillow like a pathetic idiot; anything you want, whatever you want. As long as you're there, as long as he can hear your voice and feel your touch, and not be so alone. 

The smooth cotton of his pillowcase is slick and wet with his precum. His cock is throbbing incessantly, pleasure spreads through his entire body and he doesn't care that his mattress is squeaking, that he's losing rhythm. He breathes heavy with every rut of his hips and imagines you're here, you're beneath him. 

Arms strung around him tight, you'd lock eyes with him and he wouldn't dare to look away. Feels so good, you're perfect, Aki, you'd praise, and he loves your praises, You wanna cum? Oh, but you can hold out for a little longer for me, can't you? 

Aki shivers. Of course. If you're the one asking him, he just has to. Especially when you call him Aki.

Aki, that's it, keep going. You're so sweet, so good for me. I belong to you. I'm all yours, forever and ever. Does that make you happy?

You're his, all his. You'd sound so perfect moaning his name as he bullies his cock into you. His first name, his and no-one else's, no extra politeness or honorifics. You'd say it softly as he slides inside, say it when you're begging him to fill you deeper, repeat it when you're telling him he's got to beg for you if he wants to finish. 

C'mon, Aki. Cum for me. Give me all of it. 

Yeah, Aki mumbles out loud to himself, his voice is breaking, he thrusts his hips with reckless abandon, I'll give you everything, oh, f-fuck, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum… 

He shoves his face into the bed as much as he can manage to muffle his noise, his fragile moans and loud whimpers. His shoulders tense, muscles aching. A few more shallow movements and he's done; he chants your name over and over again as he finishes, cumming all over his pillow and his sheets, thick ropes of white dirtying the fabric, making a mess. 

Falling limp, Aki lays like that for a while, catching his breath. Everything begins to fade, working through to tiredness. He should get up and shower, wash his sheets and his pillowcase, but he's so exhausted he can't even manage to move. 

He feels warm all over again, just less intense this time. Aki realizes he was saying your name as he came. Embarrassing. He can only hope he wasn't loud enough for anyone to hear. 

He'll fall asleep now, at least, with warm thoughts of you to fill his head. A date with you would be nice sometime. Nothing too crazy. He'd take you anywhere you wanted to. He also wouldn't mind taking you back to his apartment and making you something for dinner, whatever you'd like. 

If you were here now, he'd hold you as close as he can get you, breathing soft and slow while drifting off silently, his arms wrapped secure around your waist.

He's almost asleep. But —

Ah. He'd forgotten he has to work at the office tomorrow. So he's going to have to face you, first thing in the morning. 

The next time he sees you, he doubts he'll be able to do much talking. But he'll get busier soon, there's a lot of devil hunting missions coming up. Who knows when Aki is going to see you next, so if he doesn't tell you his feelings soon, when will he? 

He's decided. Tomorrow, he's going to ask you out. 

[luvyeni]

( reaction ) you don't run away ̨ ! ୨୧ 一 엔하이픈 ՞

⸃ ⸰ ⌁ when he leaves the door unlocked but you don't leave  ヾ

OTSEVEN 엔하이픈 ・ reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ yandere ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ cw ・ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ wc ・ ‎ ‎n/a ‎ ‎ ‎| ‎ ‎click to library

request. yan!enha where reader actually doesnt leave when they get the chance and enha praises them for it 😓

「 ୨୧ author note 」 enjoy it my love <3 !

﹙ 𐙚 : heeseung﹚ .ᐟ

heeseung did this many times before especially when he first took you , it soon became a game to him , he'll keep everything unlocked and watch you through the cameras shuffling to get out as quick as possible , only to be unable to leave do the front door locked , laughing as he watched you break down crying — so when you don't try to escape , instead you stay put on the bed , he gets kinda confuse? why aren't you playing his game? did you finally give up. either way he's enjoying it , he finally broke you , now he just has to find a way to play with you.

"you're learning baby , that's a good girl."

﹙ 𐙚 : jay﹚ .ᐟ

he was confused because why did you want to leave in the first place? he gave you everything you wanted , you should be happy , but he digresses. when he accidentally leaves the door open , he fully believes that you'll leave , but he isn't worried , he has you tracked — but when he goes to check the tracker; you're home. so he checks the camera to confirm it and it checks out. when he comes home he goes straight to your room where you're waiting. "you're still here?" you're confused. "where would i be?"

"nothing just keep this up , and i'll take you out on a nice date outside."

﹙ 𐙚 : jake﹚ .ᐟ

he was freaking the fuck out on the way home , ever scenario running through his. you're not there, you've left him and you aren't coming back; how could he be so fucking stupid and leave the door unlocked , now you're not there , what is he gonna do ? he's gonna kill himself if you aren't there. pushing the door open , tears in his eyes. "jake!" you jumped in fear , you were still there in the same clothes from when left. "you okay?" you get up , wiping the tears from his face. "did something happen?" he lets out a sigh of relief. "you're here." you smiled. "of course , why wouldn't i be?" he shakes his head smiling.

"come on , let's lay down baby , let me hold you you're so good."

﹙ 𐙚 : sunghoon﹚ .ᐟ

he's pissed because he knows you're probably gone , he forgot to lock the door on his rush out that morning and he couldn't go back home , he was fully prepared to come home to you gone , and he was already planning what he was gonna do to you once he got you back — the house is quiet which doesn't ease his worry , making his way to the room , basically kicking the door open , you jumped at the sudden surprise. "you scared me." stomping over to you , you don't seem to have any marks or anything indicating you tried to leave. "where have you been all day?" you laughed. "here silly , where would i go?" he looked at you confused. "you didn't leave at all?" you shook your head. "you told me to never leave , why would i leave when you said no?" he nodded. "i missed you." he couldn't smile because he didn't want to give you the wrong idea.

"i'll take the day off , take you somewhere outside, this won't be an everyday thing , if you're good we can make it monthly."

﹙ 𐙚 : sunoo﹚ .ᐟ

he's elated when he finds you right where he left you after he forgot to tie you up; this means you love him now , and you won't leave. he's so giddy he's dropping his stuff , running to you , hugging you , making you surprised. "what's going on?" he felt you pat his back. "did something happen, are you okay?" he nodded , with a huge smile on his face. "you stayed , you really stayed and I didn't have to tie you up , this means you love me now right?" you nodded. "of course I do." he squeals in excitement.

"if you're good maybe we can go up , only if you promise to stay by my side."

﹙ 𐙚 : jungwon﹚ .ᐟ

he just wants to see what you do; keeping all the doors unlocked , watching over the camera to see what you do. he smirks when he sees you go to the door like you always do , checking to see if it's unlocked , he's so ready for you to open the door , of course the front door you won't be unlocked but it would be fun to watch you cry in defeat — but you don't open it , instead you just sit back down on the bed and continue on with what you're doing; he's confused , so he waits , keeps watching you through out the day , and you don't do anything about the door. when he comes home he asked you. "why didn't you leave today?" he said , you shrugged. "i didn't want to , i like it here." he just smiles , patting your head.

"good girl."

﹙ 𐙚 : ni-ki﹚ .ᐟ

you're his and you have no choice but to stay and if he has to hit you or tie you down then so be it , but you staying at your own free will is just less work for him — why does he need to praise you , this is what you're supposed to be doing; but then he sees you cooking and cleaning up for him and he has a change of heart , coming home , just walking through the unlocked doors to where you were waiting for him. "you're back." you give him food , which he makes you confirm that it isn't poisoned cause he still is paranoid. "it's good." he says flatly.

"you can't leave but tell me what you want and i'll bring it back for you , since you did all this."

©LUVYENI

[moomine]

backwash II | daisuke

author's note: totally awesome people should check out part one as well ⍢ also, if you want to be part of a taglist for future updates feel free to reply or dm me! (cover image credit)

summary: (daisuke x f!reader) It's been a little over a month since the Tulpar departed on its 382-day long haul. Anya takes the reader aside to perform her monthly psych eval, where she discusses her experiences with her peers and life on the ship so far. After she's clear to go, she runs into Daisuke who's drawing in the lounge.

word count: 2,291

warnings: mild language? all characters are 18+

now playing: Radiohead - "Motion Picture Soundtrack"

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

EMPLOYEE STATEMENT 028—

I’m starting to feel more and more homesick. I miss my mom’s roast chicken. I miss swimming pools and the feeling of the breeze. I miss burning incense. I miss my friends. It hasn’t been that long since we left Earth, but I guess I just never considered how still outer space would be. How lonely I’d feel. The others have been nice, yeah. Especially Anya. And Daisuke. I get the feeling that Captain Curly is still warming up to me. I wonder if he’s ever taken on another apprentice before. I don’t know about Swansea, or Jimmy. They seem to tolerate me at best. But then again, those two kind of just tolerate everyone, except for maybe Captain Curly. It’s only been almost a month. I just have to keep my head. 

If mom were here she’d say: “Everything gets easier with time. Time and patience.”

DAY TWENTY-SEVEN—

“Everything okay, [Name]?” Anya asked in a gentle tone, gingerly placing a hand on the table in front of you.

Your shoulders tensed at the sound of her voice as it filled the otherwise silent lounge. You looked up at her, feeling the tension seemingly wash away by the sight of her face. She offered you an understanding smile, her tired features softened as she looked down at you.

“Yeah. I’m sorry. Just lost in thought, I guess,” you responded. 

You raised a hand to rub your eyes. It had been difficult to find sleep lately. The groaning of the ship was almost haunting at night. Laying in your bed, staring at the ceiling, you spent the few hours allotted for sleep thinking about Earth, about what laid just beyond the door to your room, about the ceaseless whining of steel and steam. About the next three hundred and fifty four days.

Anya nodded sympathetically, moving her hand from the table top to your shoulder blade. “It gets easier. I promise,” she paused as Jimmy and Curly entered the room, their voices loud and booming. “Are you ready for your psych eval?”

You nearly didn’t hear her over the sound of the other two. They were reminiscing, shouting stories back and forth of college parties, bar fights, and past lovers.

“As I’ll ever be,” you said with a timid grin. 

Anya nodded once more, motioning toward the door just past the kitchen space. You came to your feet and followed her until the two of you made it to her domain. The medical bay had become a safe haven for you. Over the past month, you gravitated toward Anya the most. She had been kind to you from the very beginning, almost sisterly. When there was no more work to be done, you often found yourself walking straight through the lounge and into her office. Anya didn’t mind. In fact, she had grown to rather enjoy the company.

She walked around the desk before taking a seat in her chair. Behind her was a wall of white shelves and cabinets with glass doors. Inside they held assorted medical supplies and books on psychology and basic clinical practice. To the right of her was a bulletin board, cluttered with posters, a calendar, pictures of her hometown, and notes and reminders. A number of Daisuke’s doodles had made it up as well, namely ‘Yimpy’, a rather horrible caricature of Jimmy. It was pretty realistic.

You sat across from her with your hands interlocked in a tight ball. “Same as last time, right?”

Anya grinned as she organized your file. “Yep, same as last time. Since it’s only your second evaluation, I’m going to go over it one more time. Is that okay with you?”

You nodded.

“Lovely,” she said with a soft hum. Tapping the papers into a neat pile against the desk, Anya glanced at you once more. Her eyes flickered from the page to you, you to the page as she read aloud. “I’m going to ask you a series of questions about your experience, relationships, and general well being during your time under contract with Pony Express. It is your responsibility to answer as truthfully as you feel comfortable and/or deem necessary. Your answers remain confidential unless you give reason to believe you are at risk of harming yourself or others. Do you have any questions?”

“No questions here,” you replied with a shake of your head.

“Perfect. Let’s get started. On a scale of one to ten, how confident do you feel in your capability to complete your work and responsibilities on a day to day basis?” Anya read.

“Maybe eight? I’m still getting a hold of some of the more technical aspects. The Tulpar is an older ship… I wasn’t exactly trained on her special quirks in school,” you said with a nervous laugh.

“You’ll catch on fast. You already have,” she reassured, jotting down your response with that sweet smile still on her face. “Okay, next question. You mentioned last time that you’ve been having difficulty sleeping, is that still a relevant cause for concern?”

“I don’t know if it’s that concerning. I think I’m just having a hard time getting used to the new environment. It’s been getting easier to fall asleep though,” you responded. A little, white lie.

“I’m happy to hear that, [Name]. Your rest is important. I remember not being able to sleep at all during my first haul. I spent all night just tossing and turning, reading my books if I could focus on them long enough. It’s normal, but from the sound of it, you’re doing a great job adjusting.” Her gaze softened as she spoke. It was clear that she had grown to care for you quite quickly, and you did the same for her. “Only a couple more left to go…”

Anya listened intently while you answered each of her questions, taking the time to write down key details of your responses. Between questions, the sound of her pen etching against the paper filled the room. As Anya wrapped up the second to last question, your eyes wandered to the evening window screen. The warm orange and reds of the artificial sunset made the room look like it was on fire. You looked back to your hands, reaching up to take a piece of your hair and twist it between two fingers.

“All right,” Anya spoke up. “Last but not least, how do you feel about your relationships with the rest of the crew? Is there anything I should know about in particular?”

“No, I don’t think so. Everyone has treated me fine enough. Other than you, I’m still trying to get to know everyone better,” you said, still focused on your hair.

Another sympathetic smile graced Anya’s lips as she looked over at you. She knew how it felt to feel slightly out of place. “Look, I’m technically not supposed to tell you this, so you have to keep it a secret. Okay?” Anya let out a quiet laugh as you nodded quickly. She watched amused as you dropped your strand of hair and leaned in closer. “Daisuke mentioned during his eval that he wanted to get to know you more. Maybe you could try talking to him? You two have more in common than you might think.”

You looked down at your lap again, biting at the inside of your cheek. “Yeah, okay. Maybe I will.”

“Well, you’re all set. You’re free to go.” Anya closed the file and tucked it away alongside the others in her desk. “Thank you for your time, [Name]. I assume I’ll see you here tomorrow. Same time as usual?”

“Same time as usual,” you echoed, beaming as you got out of your chair and left the room.

From the hallway leading to the medical bay, you could tell that the lounge was quiet now. Curly and Jimmy must have wandered off elsewhere. It would have been completely silent if it weren’t for the subtle sound of pencil scratching coming from deeper within. As you entered the room you noticed Daisuke, hunched over the table as he sketched something in his sketchbook. Completely oblivious. You leaned against the doorway and watched from a distance for a moment, admiring as he tucked a tuft of fried brown hair behind his ear. 

“What are you drawing?” you questioned.

Daisuke jumped in his seat like a cat that had been snuck up on. His eyes shot to you, the surprise he felt immediately quelling into a tenuous excitement. He hastily closed his sketchbook —almost like he was hiding something— and smoothed out his hair. His mouth broke out into a wide, infectious smile, the gap in his two front teeth a thin ravine and the dimples on either side of his mouth tiny sinkholes.

“Me? Oh, y’know, just doodling,” he said, leaning back in his chair as if trying to act casual. “Where ya been? I couldn’t find- I mean, I didn’t see you back in the cockpit.”

“Psych eval.” You pointed over your shoulder with your thumb as you pushed yourself from the doorframe. “Can I see it?” you asked, walking up to the table and taking the seat across from him.

“Uhh… see what?” Daisuke asked in turn, voice coy and simultaneously flustered.

“Your doodles,” you responded with a laugh. “Only if you’re okay with that, obviously.”

“Oh! I mean, yeah. That’s like, totally fine. But, fair warning, they’re not that incredible or anything.” Reluctantly, Daisuke passed you his sketchbook. He looked rather bashful, cheeks slightly flushed and smile wavering.

“Hey, that’s not fair. I’ve seen your stuff on Anya’s corkboard. You’re really good.” You took the sketchbook in your hands, looking down at the cover of it. It was absolutely littered in a random assortment of stickers. Only through the few and far between gaps could you see that it was once a pure black. It looked much cooler now decorated with the various games, bands, and whatever else Daisuke liked. “Are you sure you don’t mind me looking? Again, it’s perfectly fine if you changed your mind.”

“Nah, it’s all good. Just don’t expect too much, ‘kay?” he replied, running a hand through his hair.

“No expectations,” you agreed.

You turned over the cover, revealing the first page. In red ink you read ‘if found please return to Daisuke, thank youuuuuu’, alongside it was a doodle of himself looking particularly grateful. Or maybe he was pleading. You chuckled under your breath and began flipping through the rest of the pages. Each one was filled with sketches and those increasingly familiar doodles of predominantly other people. Friends, maybe family, and characters from the different games he liked. His work wasn’t quite realistic, but not the most stylized either. Rather, it seemed to be a perfect mix of the two. Something entirely unique to him. To Daisuke.

The deeper you got into the book you started to spy familiar faces. Captain Curly, Swansea, Anya, even Jimmy, but mostly you. You glanced up at him, seeing that he was seemingly avoiding eye contact with you all together. His hand was still tangled within his hair, head turned to the side, and lips knitted into a fine line. That mole —high on his left cheek— stared at you more than his own eyes.

When you finally got to the last page you realized he hadn’t been doodling at all. Instead, there before you, in soft pencil sketching, was a portrait of you that Daisuke had drawn from memory. It wasn’t perfect, but it was incredibly detailed nevertheless. You held up the book, taking in the details with a look of awe on your face. He captured all of your little imperfections —the tilt of your eyes, the quirk in your smile, all of it. 

“Daisuke, these are actually so good!” you exclaimed, setting the book down and passing it back to him.

“You… you really think so?” He let out a breath of relief, finally looking at you again. “Man, I thought you would find them totally weird. I’ve been too scared to show anyone else but Anya.”

“Why would I think they’re weird?” you asked.

“Shit, I dunno…” Daisuke trailed off.

You shook your head. “You’re really talented.”

“I- Thank you,” he breathed. Daisuke’s face softened as you looked at him from across the table. The flush in his cheeks was barely noticeable, a fair pink dusting the peaks of his features. “Hey, I noticed you brought a Walkman on board with you. I never thought I’d actually see one of those things in the flesh.”

“Oh, yeah,” you laughed lightly. “It was a gift from my mom. It’s outdated as hell, but I’ve got a bunch of custom tapes back in my room. We should totally listen to them sometime.”

“Are you kidding? Dude, I’d love to-”

“Daisuke!” Swansea called from down the hall, cutting him off. He rounded the corner, sticking his head into the lounge with a sweaty brow. “There you are. Get your ass up, break time’s over. We’ve got work to finish up before dinner.”

Daisuke looked noticeably disappointed at the sight of Swansea. “But I-”

“No ‘buts’. C’mon now, I don’t have all day,” Swansea said with a huff before he turned around, walking back toward the utility room.

“Coming,” Daisuke sighed. He stood up, tucking his sketchbook under his arm with a slight frown. “Guess I’ll see ya later, [Name].”

“Yeah! I’ve got to show you some of my mixes, remember?” you responded sweetly, smiling up at him.

Daisuke nodded enthusiastically. As he left the room, he adopted a pep in his step. A smile was glued to his face as he beamed down the hall. The human embodiment of sunshine in that moment.

[bearambles]

sober (haymitch a.)

words: 3.9k

warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex, p in v, oral (f + m receiving) , teasing (?), too much plot 😭

notes: this is so late! i am so sorry to whoever requested, i got super busy and couldn’t post it the day i planned. also, this is my first ever smut! so i am sorry if this is terrible, i’ll get better over time. enjoy!

_

The party lasted hours. Your feet hurt, your stomach is churning, and your head pounds. You've never wanted your district bed more than now. This place reeks of wealth and lies.

Unfortunately, skipping these monthly events would anger Snow. He already dislikes you and your district, so you have to do whatever it takes to please him. If that means enduring long nights of drinking and throwing up, so be it. It's better than death, you suppose.

There's only one other District 12 victor here with you, and he disappeared halfway through the night. Haymitch, despite being a good friend and your former mentor, is possibly the worst person to rely on in these social situations. He's been sitting at the bar for who knows how long, drinking who knows how much. It's only when the host literally announces it's time to leave that you find him, slumped over the counter on a stool.

"Haymitch? Come on, we have to go," you urge, shaking his shoulders.

"What? No, let me stay. I'm sleeping," he mumbles.

"You're not sleeping. You're fine. Here, I have one of those drinks that make you throw up. It'll sober you up enough to say goodbyes," you say, handing him the glass. He pushes it back towards you without even looking up.

"I don't want that Capitol shit."

"This Capitol shit will help you a lot right now. Haymitch, get up!" You push his head to the side so you can see his face. He opens his eyes to look at you.

He's only in his late twenties, but his eyes seem older. He looks as rough as he acts. His hair is too long, and his beard is starting to come in slightly, despite him saying he'd groom himself for this occasion. Still, he looks handsome. Not that it matters; his current state reflects his antisocial night.

"Please. I'm trying to keep us out of trouble. You've been alone all night. At least come say goodbye to people with me. Then we can go home, okay?"

If harshness isn’t working, you'll try being soft with him. Sometimes, just sometimes, it works. It seems to today.

He sighs and sits up, steadying himself with his palms flat on the counter. He reaches for the purple liquid and swallows it like a shot, squeezing his eyes shut and grimacing.

"Okay, I'll be back then," he says, going off to throw up.

You nod and take a seat on the stool next to where he was sitting, waiting. You can't help but feel guilty. You should have stayed with him longer that night before he went off on his own. You knew he'd go drinking, but you didn’t know it would get this bad.

Since you've known Haymitch, he's had a bit of a drinking problem. Mostly under control when he mentored you—never more than tipsy. But in recent years, as more of his tributes lost the Games, it's gotten worse. It's weighing on him, you can tell. You want to help so badly.

"Okay, let's go," he says, returning a few minutes later, running his fingers through his hair. He's clearly sobered up a bit, maybe even washed his face. His breath smells of mint.

The host and his wife are among about a dozen people remaining by the time you leave the bar and walk to the main room together. Nonetheless, you both put on a show, shaking hands and smiling, thanking them endlessly. You never know who's watching, present or otherwise.

As you make your rounds to the last few victors, Haymitch latches his arm closely with yours. The move surprises you; you realize he hasn't been this physical in a while. It seems to come with sobriety or maybe just part of the Capitol's show. Together, you almost look like a couple. It's odd.

When you leave through the doors, he doesn't let go of your arm. It's a cold night, and you shiver, but the warmth of his body next to yours feels weirdly nice.

"Thank you," you say, looking up at him on the train ride home.

"For what?" he asks, furrowing his brows.

"For taking the glass. I know you hate that stuff, but—"

"But I need to get sober," he says, looking away from you into the distance.

"I didn't say that, but it's nice when you are. I mean, it's helpful with the image when you aren't stumbling around—"

He detaches his arm from yours.

"So I shouldn't drink because the President said so?"

"He didn't say so, Haymitch. I'm saying so. You shouldn't drink because I say so."

"And why's that?"

"Because I like you better like this."

He goes quiet, then looks down at his feet, his hair falling in his eyes.

"Yeah, well, it's harder than it looks, sweetheart."

"I know that. I'm sorry," you say softly.

The rest of the ride is quiet. It's just the two of you on the train, and any sound you make seems to echo for ages. Neither of you wants to speak; too much is unsaid.

You care about him; you know that. You just aren't sure how. Though it seems increasingly clear to you in moments like this when all you want to do is tuck his hair behind his ear and kiss him softly. You have no idea how he'd feel about that, though. You have no idea how he feels most of the time.

In fact, just then, it's the first time he's seemed to feel bad about his drinking. And it doesn't seem like he cares about his health or the Capitol's opinion on his image. It seems like he feels bad for disappointing you.

When the train stops, you both get out, him first, then you. He offers his hand as you step down, and you take it with a slight smile. His hands are cold, as is the night.

Your houses are directly next to each other in Victor's Village, making the walk there excruciatingly awkward. You can't tell what he's thinking, or if he's thinking at all. Finally, after what feels like an hour, he speaks.

"That stuff is really nasty, you know that?" he says.

You look up at him. "The purging stuff?"

"No, the desserts they were serving," he says, rolling his eyes and bumping his shoulder against yours. "Yeah, the purging stuff."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. You're right. What you said and stuff. That's all right. You're right."

You smile and look up at him. He looks back at you and smiles softly, then looks away. He clearly hates to admit it.

"Don't be cocky about it, though. And don't expect me to stop. It's not that easy."

"I don't. I just like you like this."

"Yeah, you mentioned that. What do you mean?"

You've reached your house, and he stops in front of your door, feet planted. He looks down at you with a questioning gaze, and his blue eyes seem to dart across your face. Your cheeks flush. You have no idea what to respond.

"You know, just... sober," you say, looking away.

"No, I know, but the 'like' part. What do you mean? Because you got all shy when you said it," he says, swaying a bit where he stands, impatiently waiting for a response.

"I don't know," you say quietly.

"You don't know?"

"No. I think we should go to sleep. You should go to sleep. No more drinks. At least wait until tomorrow."

You try to push past him to your door, but he takes both hands out of his pockets and gently shoves your shoulders back. Not hard, but enough to make you stumble. He gazes down at you and steps forward, closing the space between you.

"Whoa, you're so eager all of a sudden. Look at me," he says, tilting your head up with a hand under your chin. "Why are you so embarrassed?"

"I'm not."

"Yeah, you are. You like me?"

"Haymitch, stop. You're—" You stop, tears pricking at your eyes. He's teasing you, you're sure of it. The last thing you want is for him to figure out your feelings. Not after he's been your mentor, not after he's seen you at your worst, after he's been your friend (?) for this long. It doesn't make sense. You know that. And he knows that, most definitely. That's why you're sure he doesn't feel that way towards you. He can't.

"You're crying. I thought you were all tough?" he says.

He's right. You were tough. Crying makes you weak. You hate talking like this. So honestly.

"Stop it," you jerk away from his hand, which had crept up to your cheek. "Go to bed."

But you don't take a step forward, don't shove past him again. You just stand there, your breath heavy, looking away. He gazes at you like he's seeing you for the first time, his eyes darting from your eyes to your mouth to your body.

"I don't want to. I want to talk to you," he finally says.

"About what?" you say, still looking away.

"Us," he says softly.

"What about us?"

He takes a step forward.

"Come on, sweetheart. You're so good to me. Take care of me. Trust in me. Give me hope."

Your breathing speeds up as you feel his hand stoke your arm gently up and down as he speaks. You’d always been cautious of his words, so used to his drunken thoughts being untrustworthy and sometimes cruel. But this feels honest. Real.

“I know you feel something.” he says as you lift your head to look back at him. “You might not know what. I don’t know either. But c’mon.” 

He starts to lean closer and your eyes drift closed. Before you can even register, his lips are on yours, and you’re kissing back. Your hands hold his elbows and his hold your face. 

His mouth tastes of the mouthwash from the capitol washrooms. He’s so slow with you, like he’s trying not to scare you. You aren’t sure if he possibly could. 

Suddenly you pull away. 

“What’s wrong?” Haymitch asks, his eyes wide.

“We should go inside.” 

“Oh. Yeah.” He registers quickly what you mean. 

All along the village are cameras for the capitol to see what goes on. Although it’s unlikely you’d get in much trouble for a kiss, you never knew what would land you a meeting with snow. Or just become the talk of the next victor event. 

You push past him and unlock your door quickly, before turning back to him, motioning for him to come inside. By the time you close the door, he’s kissing you again, this time the careful act gone. He catches your lips and kisses you like his life depended on it. It’s messy and wet and you’re so turned on it’s insane. 

His hands both reach down to hold yours, and he pushes them up against the door. The motion catches you by surprise and you moan softly into his mouth. He hears you and holds down tighter on your wrists, just enough to feel but not to hurt. 

His knee starts to spread your legs apart slowly as he kisses down your neck, and you let his name slip from your mouth.

“Haymitch~”

He stops to look at you.

“Yeah? You like this?” He sounds like he’s genuinely asking. Like he needs to know. 

You nod, your brain already fuzzy. 

“Okay. Okay.” He sounds out of breath but resumes 

his task, getting down to your collarbone. 

Hes rough with his kisses when he’s below where any marks would be seen. As he unbuttons your shirt, he looks at you, smiling like an idiot. It hits you then that he seems to have wanted this as badly as you all along. He leans in to leave a soft kiss on your lips before pulling your sleeves off your arms and throwing your top to the floor. 

“Jesus…” He mutters as he looks down at your tits. 

You reach behind you to unhook your bra, and let it all forward and land next to your shirt. 

“Holy fuck.” 

You laugh quietly at his words. He looks up at you in awe and with a look of asking as he creeps his hands from your waist up to your chest. You nod and let out a sharp breath when his cold hands hold your tits and knead them slowly. 

You wonder then if he’d ever done this with a woman before. He was younger than you when he won, so probably not before the games. And after…he’d never really seemed the type. But then again, he was attractive and still young, so you couldn’t be sure. 

Besides him, you’d only been with one or two boys from district before you were reaped. They were, however, nothing like this. 

He takes one nipple between his thumb and pointer, pinching slightly. Between the pressure and his cold hands, you let out a noise of surprise and pleasure. 

“Does that hurt?” He asks

“No, just…it’s a lot.” You say through deep breaths. “K-keep going.”

He smiles and does the same with the other, and your hips jut forward slightly in reaction. He doesn’t notice, which you’re grateful for. You’re so eager it’s embarrassing. Every touch makes your stomach flip and your underwear wetter. 

Slowly he starts to kiss down from your collarbones to your chest and takes a breast in his mouth. He looks up at you as he sucks softly, his tongue swirling your nipple. His big eyes looking into yours makes you feel like you could cum then and there. you let out a moan instead. 

He plays with your breasts for a while longer before they’re nice and covered in both his spit and dark, red marks. He knew what he was doing, putting them where nobody could see. you thought of changing in front of a mirror days to come, just looking at them. Knowing it was from him. sober. He wants this. 

He gets to his knees before you can stop him, and begins to pull down your skirt. 

You’re left in your underwear, your slick having left a clear spot in the front. You turn your head in embarrassment as he touches up your thighs and leaves open mouth kisses. 

“All this from that, huh?” he asks, laughing softly 

“Shut up.” you mutter into your hand. 

“You want me to stop?” he asks, his fingers hooked under the sides of your panties. 

“N-no.”

“What was that sweetheart? C’mon, look at me.”

“Don’t stop.” you say, clearer now, making eye contact as he kneels in front of your pussy. You couldn’t be more vulnerable, and yet, you trust him with every inch of your being. 

He looks back at your core for a moment before licking a stripe up the thin fabric. You curse quietly and he pulls them down, the air hitting your heat before his tongue does. But when it does…

He laps at you like he’d wanted to for years, which you’re now sure that he has. The urgency makes your legs buckle and he uses both hands against your knees to hold them open. He switches between your folds and your clit, paying attention to both. Every so often he stops and just admires. 

At some point haymitch sucks at your clit, and your hands fly to his hair, pulling slightly. 

He lets out a groan of surprise against your core.

“Sorry, sorry…” you mutter, loosening your grip. 

“No, keep going, I like it.” he says, stopping to look up at you, his eyes nearly glazed over in bliss. 

You resume your hold on his head and tug as he continues. Between his lips and his tongue, you’re  overwhelmed. before you know it, you feel the coil in your stomach tighten. 

“Stop…stop…” you manage in between moans. 

He gives you one last kiss to your clit before standing up, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“You okay?” 

“Just don’t wanna finish yet.” you say without thinking, before getting flushed. Even after all that, you couldn’t believe you were speaking to him like this. Haymitch. 

He smiles lazily and goes in to kiss you again, and you can taste yourself on his tongue. It should repulse you, but instead, it turns you on more. He's so happy right now, and it’s so hot. 

“Do you wanna go to my bed?” you ask him when you get a breath, his forehead resting against yours. 

He picks you up and carries you. 

Haymitch knows your house as well as his from all the press training, meetings, and late night conversations you’ve had there. He practically lives with you at this point (Besides the sleeping over part. Usually. Unless he’d passed out.) 

He drops you on your mattress and pulls off his own shirt in one motion. Your breath is caught in your throat. 

You knew he was in shape, at least he was when he had mentored you all those years ago. But even now, behind the big shirts he wears and raggedy jackets, soft abs trace his stomach. His arms as big as your thighs. No wonder the pressure on your neck felt so nice. 

He sees you staring and smiles, leaning down to tuck your hair behind your ear. 

“You gonna say anything, pretty girl?” 

You try, but you find no words. Instead, you kiss him, and slowly trail your hands down his chest. you can feel raised scars and for a moment, remember what he’s been through. What you both have been through. 

You reach his belt and whisper into his mouth, 

“Can i?”

He nods against your forehead and you start to undo it, throwing it to the side. You pull his pants down with urgency and run your palm against his boxers. 

He lets out a noise you’ve never heard him make before, a mix between a whimper and a moan. You smile and start to palm him faster, before taking him out of his underwear and looking between you at his length. 

He’s bigger than you expect, and definitely bigger than the boys you’ve been with before. A solid seven inches and thick. Your eyes can’t look away and your breath rises and falls. 

He takes your hand softly into his and guides it to his length. He looks up at you as he does, searching for any hesitation in your eyes. Instead, you look up at him before flipping you both over quickly, so you sit on his thighs. 

He’s strong, but so are you, and he doesn’t resist as you take charge over him. He does, however, look a bit surprised, and reaches to hold your hand again. You take it and kiss it, which he smiles at. Then, you lean down, and let a glob of spit dribble from your mouth to his cock. 

“Jesus christ…” he mutters, as you use your free hand to pump up and down. “When did you…fuck…feels so good sweetheart”

You smile and take him in your mouth, bobbing your head up and down quickly. His other hand still holding yours, he grips at your hair (much gentler than you did his) and makes a make-shift ponytail so he can see your pretty face. 

Despite the view, his eyes flutter shut in pleasure, and your pace quickens. You feel him pulse inside your mouth and you’re sure he’s about to cum. 

You take him as deep as you can before pulling off, leaving his cock hard as a rock and covered in your saliva. You admire your work for a moment before he reaches forward and pulls you on top of him by your hips so you’re right against his chest. 

“C’mere” he moans, fucked out, before taking his cock in his own hand and looking over your shoulder to position himself in front of your entrance. 

“You want this?” he asks, taking your cheek in his free hand and stroking his thumb against it. 

“Please.” you whisper. 

Slowly, he inserts himself into you, catching your moans in his mouth as he kisses you slowly. He stretches you out so well, and your slick helps him move without much pain. Still, you bite down on his lip at the feeling of being full once he’s in. You let out a whimper. 

“I know baby, I know. Shhhh. Tell me when to move, okay?” he looks into your eyes. 

For a moment you just kiss him, his mouth so warm on yours and his cock so warm inside you. You could die like this. 

Then, you pull away, and lift your hips, before slowly moving back down. 

“Fuck…” he moans, before catching into the pace you set and moving you up and down on his cock. “So perfect for me, yeah? You feel that?” 

You nod dumbly at his words. He could say anything to you at this moment, and you’d agree. He feels so good. So right. 

“You wanted this huh? Is that why you want me sober? To fuck me?” he asks, and you shake your head as you bounce on his dick. 

“Hm, but that’s part of it, yeah?” he insists, “You like this. Me. C’mon sweetheart, you’re needy. That's okay, I'm givin’ it to you. I'm here.” 

You fall against him and place your head on his shoulder as he fucks into you like you’re a doll. He knows just what to say to get you so embarrassed and so wet. The words only add to your pleasure and you can feel yourself getting close. 

“Haymitch…” you moan against his shoulder. 

“M’ close pretty thing.” 

He takes one of the arms holding your hips and moves to your clit, rubbing quickly. The feeling sends you over the edge. 

“Fuck, haymitch, i’m cumming~” you mutter, raising your head to look at him as you fletch down and your orgasm washes over you. 

As you come down from your high, he speeds up rutting into you, and you put each hand on one of his shoulders for support. His eyes are closed and his mouth slightly open as he mind your name over and over like a prayer. 

He lifts you off of his cock and back onto his thighs before cumming all over your belly. You reach a hand down to stroke him as he does, but he catches your wrist. He’s sensitive, you can tell, and you laugh softly. 

“Sorry pretty girl. Made a mess.” he says, looking in between the two of you. Between his cum and yours, there’s not a part of either of you that isn’t slick. He takes a finger and swipes a bit of his own before putting it in front of your mouth. Grinning, you take it in your mouth and suck, tasting him.

“Jesus.” he says softly, as you lay down next to him, your face buried into his neck. 

You lay there like that for a moment, breathing. His hair sticks to his face in certain places, and his cheeks are rosy. The reality of what had happened hits you.

“You know, this isn’t the only reason you should drink less-“ You begin, propping your head up on your hand. 

He sighs. 

“I know. I’m too happy right now for lectures though, alright?” 

You consider for a moment before deciding that’s fair. Laying back down, you cuddle into his side.

“You admit this is part of why though, huh?” he says after a few moments, and you can hear the smugness in his voice.

“Was it worth it?” you ask

There’s a pause.

“I’d do anything for you.” he answers.

And for now?

That’s all you need. 

-

tysm for reading! like + reblog if you enjoyed :)

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Code of Conduct 1

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as cheating, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your boss has a difficult time keeping his personal life from bleeding into his work. 

Characters: Steve Rogers, this reader is known as Rosie.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼

“Mr. Rogers’ office. This is Rosie, how can I hel--” 

“Where is he?” Peggy’s voice cuts over your own. 

“Oh, hello, Mrs. Rogers, he’s currently in a meeting--” 

“Get him.” 

“Mrs.--” 

“Don’t argue with me. Go get him. Are you not his assistant?” She challenges brusquely. 

Her accent adds to the sharpness of her words. Her curt demeanour is a stark contrast to her husband. Your boss is always amiable, accommodating even, but the few times you’ve dealt with his wife have been similarly tense. You put a smile on so she can’t hear your anxiety. 

“Of course, Mrs. Rogers,” you preen, “I’ll put you on a quick hold.” 

“No, you will get him. No hold.” 

You suck in a sigh and hold your breath in your chest, “of course.” 

You set the phone down. You don’t see how her hearing your desktop will be any better but you wouldn’t want to irritate her further. It must be urgent. 

You stand and smooth out your dress. You step out from behind your desk, digging your nails into your palms as you ball your fists tight. You get nervous about most things. Answering the phone took your months to get used to and even now you tend to fumble over your words. 

You go to the door and brace yourself. You don’t know why you expect Mr. Rogers to be upset. He’s never been anything close to rude. Maybe short in times of stress but not unpleasant. You knock and wait as you twiddle your fingers against your striped pleats. 

It isn’t Mr. Rogers who answers by Mr. Barnes. You give a sheepish smile, “excuse me, doll.” 

He steps past you and you bid him a good day. He leaves without further courtesy and Mr. Rogers calls your name from within, “need something?” He asks. 

“Oh, yes, Mrs. Rogers is on the phone.” 

He doesn’t seem happy about that. His cheek dimples and he nods, wiggling his pen at you, “patch her through.” 

You go back to your desk and pick up the receiver, “hello, Mrs. Rogers, he’s available now--” 

“I don’t want to talk to you, honey. Where is my husband?” 

You transfer her without another word. Phew. You almost feel bad for your boss as you hear him pick up in his office. His tone is low and dull. 

You try not to overhear, letting his conversation drone into a buzz. There’s enough work to be done without worrying about his personal life. Your own afterhours concerns are more than concerning. You wouldn’t say you have much going on and that’s the problem. It’s moment like those that ease your envy of others’ full plates. 

You haven’t seen the girls lately. The group chat’s been quiet but you suppose you could go ahead and say hi. Your weekly cocktails petered out to biweekly, then monthly, and now you can’t remember the last time you let go with a mimosa. 

You peek over your desk and back at your screen. It’s not only on them to keep things going. You pick up your phone and open the chat. The last message is a meme Elfie sent about printers. You shake your head and send a little waving sticker, keying in a message. 

‘Long time no see! I’m in need of drinks. Anyone free? When’s best? Hope you’re all taking care.’ 

You’re professional tone shines through even on WhatsApp. It’s a bit lame but you’re an entirely different person in text. Most people are surprised to meet the mousy secretary hiding behind her screen after the lively back and forth in Outlook. 

You set your phone down and try not to stare at it. A reply never comes while you’re waiting for it, nor does water boil when you’re watching it. As you click around and try to remember where you were, the silence sinks in. Your realisation brings your eyes up as quickly as Mr. Rogers shadow. 

You bat your lashes at him in surprise, “need something, sir?” 

He gives a half-smile, the type weighed down by disappointment. He sighs and crosses his arms, leaning on the door frame, “you hungry?” 

“Um, well, it’s only eleven,” you shrug. 

“Mm, yeah,” he unfolds one arm to rub his neck, “I’m restless. You feel like getting lunch early?” 

“Sure, I can run out and grab you something,” you stand eagerly. 

“No, uh,” he drops his arm back over his other, “together. I had a reservation for me and Peggy but she canceled. I’d hate to inconvenience the restaurant and I just can’t sit and mope in my office.” 

“Oh, okay, I guess that works...” 

“Do you need to ask your boss?” He scoffs. 

You laugh at his joke, “do I?” 

He smiles, a real smile and drops his arms, “my treat. You know what, you earned it. You work so hard around here, a little employee appreciation is overdue.” 

“That’s so nice,” you chime, “uh, sir, I... I should leave an away message, should I?” 

“Oh, who cares, come on.” 

“Well, I mean...” 

“Ah, I get it, boss is a real hard ass,” he winks. 

“Sir,” you giggle nervously and teethe your lip. He watches your mouth. 

“You can catch up later. Come on, I haven’t played hooky in years.” 

“Hooky?” You stammer. 

He laughs, “a goody two shoes. It’s why I hired you but it’s okay to let loose once in a while.” 

“I know, Mr. Rogers, it’s just... it’s work.” 

“Too much of it and you’ll turn into me,” he huffs. “Please, I’m sure your husband would hate if you were never home. Never answered the phone.” 

“If I had one, probably,” you blurt out then look away shyly. 

“Really? I thought...” he begins and shakes his head, “doesn’t matter. I’ll grab my jacket and we’ll go. I missed breakfast.” 

“Um, sure, sir,” you agree and put your hand on the phone. 

When he turns, you look down. Missie sent a reply; ‘please, drinks are required!’ Ooh! Yay. 

[cloudcountry]

just realized i NEVER posted this to tumblr??? HELLO??? if it wasn't for ao3 this shit would have been lost media because i literally cannot find it in my google docs??? HELP???

ANYWAYS!! WELCOME TO WHAT THE TWST BOYS LEFT YOU WITH AFTER YOU BROKE UP

its bittersweet. you guys broke up on good terms. post-formatting auburn here and omfg what was i THINKING this shit HURTED. OW. CRITICAL HIT I NEED A HEALER. FUCK.

Riddle Rosehearts leaves you with an appreciation for learning, a strong sense of awe at the bookshelves lining the walls of NRC’s library. He leaves you with a pen, tucked at the bottom of your backpack that you forget about until a late night study session. You find it and giggle, remembering the time he gave it to you when yours ran out of ink, and you begin to take notes with the red-rose ink.

Trey Clover leaves you with a sense of nurture. You pick up cues from people that you never would have seen before and know exactly how to act, and it isn’t until you find yourself “babying” Ace that you step back and laugh. Of course Trey rubbed off on you, he always was taking care of you with nobody to help out him.

Cater Diamond leaves you with extensive knowledge of camera angles. When you’re taking pictures with your friends or just you, it's like you know exactly which filter would look best with every shot. Sometimes you’ll stumble upon a filter you only ever used on his pics, and you’re filled with a bittersweet happiness. Simple photo editing holds so many memories, and you can only hope he’s making new ones, too.

Deuce Spade leaves you with a motivation to protect yourself. When you started dating him all that time ago, he insisted on giving you some form of self defense lessons just so you could protect yourself. He made you more confident, even if he never knew it. You’ll always be thankful for the way he unknowingly made you stand up straighter, like you were proud to be yourself.

Ace Trappola leaves you with a lighter soul. He’s always been a goofy person, and you know full well that he’s never changed. He made you way more optimistic just by dealing with things the way he did, always being true to his heart no matter who he was speaking to. You always admired that about him, and it made you feel like you could be more like yourself even when he wasn’t there anymore.

Leona Kingscholar leaves you with a piece of his pride. He always told you to keep your head up especially when you’re scared half to death. You find yourself using his advice every time you face a situation you’d rather not be in, and slowly conquer everything that used to freak you out. You finally glow with the pride that you know he would have been so proud of if he was still with you, but you’re starting to think that maybe he’s proud of you anyway.

Ruggie Bucchi leaves you with a determination to constantly fight for better. You need to make the best of your circumstances, being transported to a world where you’re powerless with nothing but the shirt on your back. He’s taught you to be crafty and resourceful, and to never let yourself be taken advantage of. You can’t thank him enough...and really, you can’t anymore, but that’s okay.

Jack Howl leaves a carefully planned school year in his wake. You find yourself planning out your day, little events scribbled into your calendar and schedules created in the margins of your notebook. Jack had always reminded you of things and you wanted to let him know how much you valued his efforts to keep you on track, so you started writing down his schedules too. It isn’t until you flip back through your notebook to find older notes that you see “Track and Field Meet - 5pm” and feel a pang in your heart.

Azul Ashengrotto leaves you with a ton of home-economics knowledge. Long after you two have broken up, you still find yourself checking on your monthly expenses and tweaking your meal plans, and it isn’t until you’re laying in bed one night that you realize you wouldn’t be nearly as efficient as you are now if it wasn’t for your previous sweetheart.

Jade Leech leaves you with a fascination for the world around you. He took things that you didn’t think twice about and twisted them into beautiful sights, and you never quite looked at them the same way. It’s not a bad thing, it’s quite the opposite, actually. Your world has never been more beautiful, even if the boy that opened your eyes isn’t there to see it with you.

Floyd Leech leaves you with a restless need to do something. Sometimes, during your down time, you’ll set down your phone and start pacing around your room, wondering why your legs just can’t seem to sit still. Then something clicks—Floyd used to barge into your dorm and dance with you at random intervals, but he doesn’t do that as much anymore. Laughing to yourself, you slip on a coat and decide to take a walk—anything to get the fidgeting out of your system.

Kalim Al-Asim leaves you with a brighter smile and higher patience. You’d always had to chase after him on whatever misadventure he decided to go on that day, apologizing to Jamil with a wobbly smile on your face once the day was done. Kalim never failed to make things brighter, even your breakup. You two still hang out sometimes, but you aren’t as close as you used to be, even if the memories of your adventures remain.

Jamil Viper leaves you with some of his best recipes. It may seem silly or insignificant to anyone else, but you know exactly how much time he spent cooking and baking for Kalim and his entire dorm on a daily basis. He even found time to bring you and his club snacks occasionally. You still know how to make his favorite curry, and if a recipe calls for dates you scratch them out from the ingredients out of habit.

Vil Schoenheit leaves you feeling beautiful. He never once looked at you wrong, whether you had just woken up or had gotten into another mud fight with Grim or if you were wearing a swimsuit. There was nothing but love in his gaze and a reminder to keep your head up on his tongue, because in his eyes you were precious. Because to Vil, you were unapologetically beautiful (and you still are. You always will be.)

Rook Hunt leaves you with an eye for detail. After picking up on everything you did and telling you about every habit he examined, you became keenly aware of your habits and how to manage them. You’re far more observant when it comes to your own self care, and you know you wouldn’t be as diligent if it wasn’t for the insistence of your ex.

Epel Felmier leaves you with a love for nature. You’re hyper aware of how long it takes apple trees to grow and what you can do to help them along. You whisper to your plants now and sing little songs to them and you water them. Your friends have even started coming to you for pointers, and despite the fact that Epel isn’t your partner anymore, you refer them to him automatically.

Idia Shroud leaves you with an absurd amount of techy knowledge. With all the gadgets Ramshackle has because of him, you’re thankful he took the time to explain how they worked. The gifts he made for you almost make the fact that he had to end things with you because of his...family business and that you’ll likely never see him again easier to swallow.

Malleus Draconia leaves you with a greater love for the night sky. You had a person to share the sight of the stars with for once, someone who loved looking up at them just as much as you did. You can still feel the chill of his hand over yours as he reached for it, holding it like you were the most precious treasure of all. Now, when you look up at the stars, you feel a pain of longing in your chest. You miss him.

Lilia Vanrouge leaves you with knowledge of the worlds you’ll never see. You find yourself drawing parallels between this world, your world, and the mystical places Lilia used to talk about. Even Trein has been impressed by the knowledge you’ve displayed in his essays despite not being from this world, and you can only force a laugh.

Silver leaves you with a safety net, something you can use to calm down whenever. His childhood lullaby. He sang it for you time and time again when you were having trouble sleeping in an unfamiliar place when your anxiety got a bit too much. Whenever you have a nightmare now, you find yourself humming the old Briar Valley tune, in hopes that it will give you some comfort.

Sebek Zigvolt leaves you with a greater appreciation for reading (and a pile of bookmarks tucked in an old leather box he presented when he started “courting” you.) You still find yourself exiting Ramshackle on the weekends, and heading to that very same tree you two used to read under. There’s a part of you that wants to look for him, to check and see if he’s also heading to your tree, but you don’t.

[viennakarma]

Happiness is a butterfly

Fernando Alonso x Reader

Summary: He wants you but he can't have you. But when a fatal crash happens, he realizes maybe he should just take the jump, before it's too late.

Word count: 6.4k

Tags: Female reader, teammate reader, smut, oral, angst, crash, very remorseful nano, cursing, mostly fernando pov, fernando is in denial, age gap (not defined), hurt/comfort, brief mention of Jules Bianchi, happy ending, not beta read

Relationships: Fernando Alonso x Reader

Notes: LISTEN I wish I could control my creative brain but I can’t. *taps mic* Ok, so, who's ready for our little monthly crying session? This actually came to me in a dream after I listened to Happiness is a butterfly, and I ended up incorporating some of the lyrics in the story. I was only contemplating writing this when Anon sent this request asking for angst after a big fight, and I thought it goes perfectly with what I had in mind.

Hope it's to your liking, Anon!

Find me on Twitter!

“Fernando,” You whispered like it wasn’t wrong, like his name was a prayer.

Fernando knew it was wrong, not only because you were a driver and his teammate, but also because you were way too young for him. But whenever you two were like that, you in his arms, it felt so right, so perfect.

Sometimes he wondered to himself if he took advantage of you. Because ever since you first met, you looked at him with big shiny eyes, like you were facing a hero. He knew you were a fan of his, but then again, most of the younger drivers were. But when you two became teammates and got closer, he’d notice how your eyes would find his first thing after entering any room. Whenever you two had chats alone, you’d smile at him in a specific way you didn’t smile at anyone else, blush creeping up your face.

It was so easy to be enchanted by you, by your kindness and willingness. Fernando was drawn to you like a moth to flame, only you didn’t burn him. You were kind to everyone and very talkative, and for a while, Fernando wondered how you managed to get into Formula 1 and keep your spirit intact. Everyone called you a social butterfly. Then he started calling you Mariposa, as a sweet nickname, and he explained to you it meant “Butterfly”.

You two were always together, being teammates, so it didn’t take long for the dynamic shift. Soon, there were longing looks and lingering touches. The way Fernando would always touch the small of your back for a little too long when talking to you, or the way you lean too close whenever talking to him, or the way his eyes stare at your lips every opportunity. Or when you finished a good race and the first thing you’d do was jump on his arms. How you’d always knock three times on his helmet right before going off to the race, he started reciprocating the gesture, since he knew it was probably your thing for good luck or something.

Things went like that for too long, and neither of you were brave enough to take the jump, as you called it.

That until fate put you face to face during summer break. You were in Mallorca with a bunch of your friends for a girls trip in a resort by the sea. You were having brunch when you spotted Fernando at the same time he spotted you, his eyebrows raising in surprise, he muttered something to the people with him that looked like his family members, before coming to you.

“Mariposa!” He hugged you softly.

“Hi! Good to see you!” You chirped, nervously.

Fernando blatantly checked you out. You were wearing simple bikinis and a light beach robe. You were tanned, hair wild and cheeks red like you had come straight out of one of his wet dreams.

“Enjoying summer break?” He asked.

“Yeah, with my friends,” You pointed to where they waited for you at the table, “will you be here for long?”

“No, my family is going back today and I’m leaving tomorrow. We’ve been here for a few days already.”

You waved him goodbye after a quick chat. That night, the weather, the breeze and the empty villa tempted him into calling you. He didn’t want to be that guy so he resisted the urge, instead going for a walk by the beach, alone. As fate would have it, he found you at a small beach party with your friends, dancing and drinking.

Like a magnet, your eyes found his, and you said something to your friends before walking up to him.

“You came to the party?” You asked.

“No, I was just taking a walk and passed by,” He shrugged, and started walking away “I’ll let you go back to your friends.”

“No! No- I mean- Can I walk with you?” You asked and he just nodded.

You two walked away by the shore, the small waves crashing over your feet, and you two chatting about the island and all the adventures you got to go.

“So you went diving, surfing? Everything?”

“I have always been kind of a scaredy-cat, especially as a kid. My dad used to tell me ‘you just have to breathe ten seconds of courage and take the jump’. Funnily, racing was the only thing I wasn’t afraid of. I’m in control, me and the car are one.”

He listened to you for a long while, his eyes focused on the way the wind picked up your hair, your dress flowy in the wind and your bikini top peeking from under the neckline. You were looking delicious, he had to admit. You always were, but now, after spending the whole day under the sun, your skin was golden and glowy, and he imagined himself biting into your shoulder and kissing up your neck.

When you two finally stopped by the villa, Fernando looked at you attentively.

“Won’t your boyfriend be worried about you?”

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” you shook your head knowing that he was just trying to find out if you had someone.

“You don’t? Well you’re pretty and nice, I thought you’d have one by now.” 

“You think I’m pretty?” You asked, blushing which made him chuckle.

“You know you are stunning.”

“Well, I know I’m pretty, I just didn’t know if I am pretty enough for you.”

“Mariposa,” his voice had a tone of reprimand, but his eyes falling down your cleavage and body, betrayed him.

“Just one kiss?” You asked, pouting, “and we don’t even have to talk about it after.”

“I can’t.”

“But you want to?” You asked, full of hope.

“We should not,” he whispered as you closed the distance to his face, your face barely centimeters from his, lips dangerously close.

“We could just,” you tried to come up with an argument, but your lips brushed his beard and you lost all train of thought.

“If we start, I will not be able to stop,” he mumbled, trying so hard to refrain himself.

“Then don’t.”

That’s all it took for him to press his fingers to your nape, pulling you in and smashing his lips to yours. And it felt divine, like nothing he had ever done before, you were sweet and the harder he kissed you, the more pliant you got in his arms, sighing and moaning softly as his hand found home over your ass, pressing firmly until your whole body was flush to his.

“Fernando,” you whispered, his lips going down your neck, his beard making goosebumps raise on your skin.

Then you walked inside without really breaking apart. Fernando pulled your dress from your body, staring at you in your bikini.

“This is tiny,” he said, hooking a finger by the string on the sides of the bottom.

You smiled some way you hoped was seductive, taking a step back so he could see you fully as you pulled the strings, letting your bikini top fall to the floor, followed by the bottom soon after.

Soon he had you bent over the back of the sofa, holding onto the seat for dear life as he knelt behind you and ate you out, fingering you ass all the way to a mind blowing orgasm. Then he fucked you senseless, whispering dirty nothings into your ear, switching English and Spanish back and forth. He slapped your ass until it was stinging, whispering about your “tempting tiny bikini”. He had you groaning, drooling against the sofa until your toes curled and you came around his cock.

“Nano… Fuck-” you moaned feeling him cumming too.

He cuddled you, both of you falling on the sofa, spent.

“Why were we holding back? We should’ve done this a long time ago.” You said, lips brushing his beard.

He didn’t answer because he knew why he had been holding back. You were young, sometimes naive, and his teammate. It was double the trouble. But he didn’t allow himself to wallow in those feelings, rather focusing on the feel of you naked in his arms.

“You know what we should do? Stay here a bit longer,” you rose from his chest, eyes glinting mischievously, “we should extend our stay here.”

“Just you and me?”

“Just us,” you whispered, planting a kiss on his chest.

And so you stayed with him. You sent your friends to Ibiza as a gift and Fernando extended his rent on the villa. You’d spend the day lazing around, cooking together and going to the beach or the pool. You played tennis and trained together in the small gym. You made love on every possible surface of that whole villa, which left you spent and satisfied every single day.

And you talked. Fernando considered you to be one of the closests people to him on the grid, but still, he learned so much more about you, about your mental strength to rise and thrive in motorsport. And you were clever and witty, joking around him, talking about life and all your dreams. And he could hear you for hours on end, never getting tired of you.

Unfortunately, your little time of uninterrupted happiness had to end. With a heavy heart, you kissed him goodbye, both of you aware that things would never go back to the way they were before summer break. But you two were also too scared to name anything, or to ruin whatever this dynamic was.

But you left Mallorca admitting to yourself that you had fallen in love even deeper.

You tried to keep texting and calling him, but you usually were in very different time zones so the texts were few and far between. Fernando even sent you a sweet text on your birthday a few of days later.

There was a gala by the end of summer break almost three weeks later, hosted by the FIA, it was mostly for mingling, and most drivers usually went, especially those trying to keep an image to the big shots.

Fernando went there because he rarely missed it. And maybe because he knew you would be there too, and maybe he could leave with you.

You arrived a little late, stunning in a green gown, with a tight corset and a big slit showing your leg. Fernando watched as you made rounds, greeting people and old men, other drivers that were your friends and their wives or girlfriends. You eventually made your way to Fernando, and he proudly waited for you when you walked up to him, the most beautiful smile adorning your lips and eyes shining just as much as the diamonds on your earrings.

“You’re beautiful, mariposa.” Fernando whispered.

“Thank you, you look handsome too. Love me a man in a tuxedo.” You whispered back conspiratorially, winking at him.

You two chatted for a little, watching the people around. You told him everything you did during summer break after you two parted ways in Mallorca. When the slow music started, you watched the couples getting to the dancefloor.

“Nano, can we dance?” You asked. He just stiffened, face unsure.

“Hm, I’m not sure.”

“Nobody will mind, we’re teammates,” you shrugged.

“I don’t think it's a good idea,” He looked at your face, still staring longingly at the couples slow dancing on the dancefloor. Yearning for something he couldn’t give you.

“Mhm…” You hummed, disappointed. You stood there silent for a couple more minutes, watching the dancefloor. Fernando imagined dancing with you, having you in his arms, listening to your voice, your hand on his shoulder. You cleared your throat for a second, “I’m gonna get a drink.”

You didn’t wait for his response, leaving with long strides to the bar, the opposite side. Fernando’s eyes never left you, he watched as you got a drink and sipped a little, sitting on a bar stool. Some people stopped to greet you quickly. At some point, Charles Leclerc stopped you, whispering something that made you giggle a little, then he offered you a hand, probably inviting you to dance, but you refused politely. You grabbed a second drink and turned on the stool, nursing your drink and still watching the party go on.

You wanted to dance with him, not anyone else.

Eventually, the party died down, and Fernando got close to you again, whispering in your ear to meet him in the most discreet parking lot and then he left. You watched his back as he made his way out. Downing whatever was left of your drink, you stood up, making a quick route to say goodbye to everyone.

Finally, you met Fernando in the car. He had driven himself in his expensive car.

As he drove away in the middle of the night, he put his hand on your thigh under the slit of the dress. You honestly wanted to jump him, to make him stop the car anywhere and just get into it.

Quietly making into his hotel room, you kicked your high heels off and kissed him, not giving him any second before deepening the kiss, pressing your body to his.

“Wait,” he managed to croak out. You took a step back. He went into his luggage and picked a small box, handing it to you, “I know your birthday was two weeks ago, but since I didn’t see you- well, happy birthday.”

“You didn’t have to…” you whispered, opening the box to a beautiful and delicate necklace with a gold butterfly pendant with small diamonds all around the wings, “it’s so beautiful, Fernando.”

“Not as much as you, Mariposa.” He whispered back, taking the necklace, placing you in front of the full body mirror and standing behind you and locking the necklace around your neck.

“Thank you”

He kissed your neck, running a hand down your arm, then kissing your shoulders while pulling the hair pins out of your hair, letting your hair free. He kept leaving hot wet kisses on your skin, calling you “hermosa” and “my mariposa” all while unzipping your dress slowly. You let him do whatever, his hands pushing the corset out until the fabric pooled around your ankles kicking it away too, and you stood in nothing but panties and the necklace.

You gasped, staring at your reflection on the mirror and him behind you, his rough fingertips running over your side, getting to your front and cupping your boobs. You felt soft as his fingers pinched your nipples, making you moan softly.

“You ready to take me?” He asked against your ears.

“Please, Nano,” you moaned his name the way you only said it when you were alone and getting intimate.

“Foot there,” he pointed to a chair. You did as he said, one leg up so he could have better access to your panties.

He pressed his chest to your back, fingers sliding inside your panties to feel your obscene wetness dampening the fabric. His fingers slid right over your clit, spreading your juices all around, before diving into your cunt. You moaned, head lolling back against his shoulder, as he pleasured you nonstop. You had been turned on even since the gala, and the ride to the hotel had been pure torture not being touched. So it didn’t take much for him to build you up, his thumb brushing your clit. Your moaning got louder and with the way he could feel your cunt clenching around his fingers, he knew you were close.

And so he stopped, making you whine. He just chuckled.

“Nano! I was so close!” You pouted.

“Needy girl, get on the bed,” he pointed again, like an order, “you’re cumming around my cock first.”

You sat on the bed slowly, still reeling from almost orgasming. You watched as Fernando started undressing in front of you, so you just ran both hands from his chest down to his thighs, fingers barely touching the straining erection in his pants.

“Don’t get greedy now. Wait.”

With his words, you stopped touching him, leaning back so you could watch him undress. When he finally got rid of all clothing, he leaned, kissing your stomach and up your boobs, mouthing your nipples as his hands pulled your panties, letting you lay down on the edge of the bed. You held his head against your nipples, his eyes finding yours through his eyelashes. 

When you were both fully naked, he just held your legs open and sank into your cunt, making you moan loud as you back rose up from the bed.

“Nano- oh, fuck!” You moaned, and pulled by his neck to kiss you.

He kissed you back slowly, patiently contrasting your desperate hands on his shoulder, crawling up his neck, fingertips sinking into his soft hair, as he fucked you slowly, pressing you deliciously into the bed, one hand firmly on the bedrest and the other holding your neck, pressing until you were cumming, his lips sucking hickeys into your skin.

You two were cuddling quietly when you decided to say what you’ve been thinking about ever since Mallorca.

“We should go on a date, Fernando. Take the next step, I really like what we have.”

You could feel him stiffening against you, and you closed your eyes, afraid of what his response would be.

“We can’t, mariposa. You are way younger than me,” He said somberly, “and we’re teammates. This would be too messy for the both of us, but especially for you, who is just starting your career.���

“I don’t mind if that’s the price I need to pay to have you.”

“We can’t take this kind of risk for something we don’t even know it’s real.”

That squeezed your heart and made you angry with his denial.

“Fernando, this is real- You know that!”

“Calling a cab to take you to your hotel,” he said standing up and picking his phone. His tone was cold, detached from you, like you were just some toy for him to have fun with, and now you served your purpose.

“Don’t be like that, Fernando. This is more than just sex,” you got up, covering yourself with the bedsheet because it felt too vulnerable having this conversation naked.

“We can’t be anymore than that. You’re too young to understand.” He said not looking at you.

There was a lump on your throat rapidly forming. He knew you hated when people treated you like you were dumb because you were young.

“Please let us just talk about it-”

“There’s nothing to talk about. This means nothing! Nada!” He exclaimed.

“You don’t mean that. Don’t be a jerk.” Your voice was already wavering.

You stared at his back as he turned around, going to the opposite side of the room, your tears started falling down.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He finally said but still didn’t look at you.

“I’m already hurt,” you said, picking up your panties from the floor hastily putting them on, realizing how Fernando had helped you with your dress, so you just picked up one of his sweaters and dressed, “do you want me or do you not?”

“I don’t want you.”

“You’re missing good things in life because of fear. Just take the fucking jump, Fernando.”

The next thing he heard was the slamming door behind you.

When he walked back, he noticed you had left the butterfly necklace on the table. Holding the necklace against the palm of his hand, he wondered if he did the right thing or just lost the best thing in his life.

You didn’t text or called him. And he didn’t either. Eventually he texted you, to tell you had “forgot” the necklace, to test the waters.

“You’re the only one who calls me mariposa. This necklace has no meaning to me if you’re not in my life.”

His mind would often wander back to Mallorca, to those few days you and him lived in paradise. Sleeping late, waking up even later, then making love lazily under the sun, sunbathing naked by the pool, and cooking together, training together. There was never silence with you, since you were always talking or singing or playing loud music.

And he missed it. As the weeks progressed and the more race weeks came, you didn’t try to talk to him about the two of you. You were still polite and talkative, usually filling his silence with stories, talks about the track and strategies. You still knocked on his helmet three times before every race, probably a pre race ritual by now.

He missed you. He missed not only the feel of your cunt around his cock, but he missed your loudness, and your laugh. He missed the light in your eyes that was slowly darkening each passing day. Like you were losing hope he would come around and change his mind.

The last race of the season, he was a little late from a meeting, so you were already getting in the car when he came out. Your visor was up, so you just looked at him, and knocked your own helmet three times as a sign to him, who did the same gesture back to you.

By around ⅔ of the race, there was an accident and the red flag was called.

It took maybe two or three minutes until all cars stopped on the pitlane, lined up under the red flag. As Fernando climbed out of the car, he turned around, looking for you, removing his helmet, guard and balaclava, he went inside the garage.

“Where’s Mariposa?” He asked, to one in particular. But then his eyes landed in Martha, your PT, and her eyes were watery as she pointed to the screen.

A sinking feeling expanded in his stomach as he saw your car, that now looked like an unrecognizable wreckage. He dropped his helmet, covering his mouth with a hand. The marshals were all around your burning car, various people with fire extinguishers, trying to lower the fire enough to pull you out.

“Has she responded yet? Did she say anything?” Fernando asked without removing his eyes from the screen.

“No,” Somebody said, somberly.

“She’ll be fine,” Fernando assured, probably trying to convince himself, and his rapid heartbeat. He had seen and had been in many ugly crashes, and in the end, the driver had come out unscathed. He was sure you could manage, you were very strong and stubborn.

When the fire died down enough, a couple of marshals pulled you out, and Fernando’s heart felt like it was stopping as they pulled you out unconscious. The marshals made a small shield around you and carried you to the ambulance.

Looking around, Fernando finally noticed how everyone was horrified by the crash, and all the drivers around seemed pale and worried. It took a couple of minutes for the FIA to decide to keep the race going, setting it to restart 15 minutes later.

“Fernando,” someone called, and he turned to be faced with George and Alex, who were your closest friends on the grid, “any news on her?”

“Not yet,” he paused, trying really hard to not freak out, “Mike went to the hospital with her.”

“That was ugly,” Alex muttered gloomily.

The tree of them stayed silent, eyes on the screen where a replay of your crash. It was probably a mechanical issue, since you were in high speed when the tyres locked, and you visibly couldn’t brake, going straight into the barriers, full force.

“Will-” George started but his voice failed a little and he cleared his throat, “will she be ok?”

“Yes. She’ll be ok.” Fernando said, not only to calm down the two young drivers, but also to convince himself, since no other option was acceptable in his mind.

You had to be fine.

“Fuck it,” Fernando went inside his room, changing quickly into more casual clothes, as he came out, the team was confused, “I’m sorry, but I have to check on her. Martha, come with me.”

He left knowing he would face terrible consequences with the FIA, not only for not going back to the race, but also because he avoided the press to go to the hospital you were taken to.

On the car, on the way to the hospital they had taken you to, his phone rang, and it was Mike, who had been the first one to go with you to the hospital. Fernando supposed Mike would want to tear him a new one for abandoning the race.

But no. Mike wanted to update him, telling you had a concussion that had knocked you out on the spot, inside the car. They were going to check if you had any more injuries with scans and tests.

By the time he got to the hospital, he met with Mike, and with Vince, your friend and manager, they said you were still unconscious and going through all the examinations necessary. The doctors wanted to see if you didn’t have any internal bleeding or fractures. They kept you unconscious during urgent care, hoping you would wake up after the tests and after the meds wear off.

Fernando sat in the waiting room unmoved, his fear eating him inside every minute you had not woken up yet. Martha was tearful the whole time, while Vince was making calls right and left, he got in touch with your family and closest friends. Alberto showed up around an hour after to pick Fernando up to go back to the hotel.

“I am not leaving,” Fernando said.

“Fernando, there’s nothing you can do. Vince said she will probably wake up late morning tomorrow, we can just-”

“I will not leave.”

Fernando’s words left no space for debate. He didn’t have any commitments for the next week. So he stayed after everyone left, waiting for news on his mariposa. He could barely drink the coffee because his stomach was churning with the lack of news. In the middle of the night, finally they finished the tests and they put you in a room.

After bribing his way inside, Fernando was able to get into your room and see you. You were sleeping, looking peaceful in that hospital bed, using an oxygen inhaler.

“Why does she need oxygen?” He asked the nurse checking on you.

“Here it says she inhaled some smoke before the fire was put off,” the woman explained, reading your chart.

“She will be alright, isn’t she?” He asked, his tone audibly worried. The nurse sighed, as if she didn’t want to say her next words.

“We can’t tell just yet. For now the scans and tests show she is fine, but we can only tell for sure after she wakes up.”

She left Fernando behind with dread consuming his every thought.

As he stared at your unconscious body on the bed, he couldn’t help but remember when you slept with him in Mallorca. Your naked body tangled with the blankets, hair splayed on the pillows and tanned limbs looking for him even in sleep, hugging him and keeping him in bed with you longer than he usually did. He sat by the bed, hand holding yours, running his thumb over your cold knuckles.

The remorse was eating him alive. You had to be alright. You had to wake up soon and laugh at his worried face, joking that you’re tougher than you look. Giving him those eyes. He couldn’t bear not looking at your eyes again, that would break him apart one last time.

Because you could have been his the whole time. He could have slept with you in his arms more often than not. He could have been stealing your kisses in dark corners and going out for dinner after late team meetings. He could’ve received random cute selfies from you throughout his day. He could’ve whispered “I love you” into your skin every night. Only he didn’t.

His last words to you were “I don’t want you” and he couldn’t take it if those were his last words for you ever. He never let himself admit to you that he had fallen. That he was absolutely crazy for you, that he loved you even before you ever kissed him.

He was about to spiral in guilt when your sister arrived in the early morning. She visibly didn’t expect Fernando there, holding her sister’s hand.

“I just talked to the doctor,” Mila, your sister, muttered.

“He said the meds will wear off later today,” Fernando said.

“You can go rest now, come back later.” Mila offered. Didn’t sound like she wanted him specifically out, but more out of worry.

“No, I- I want to stay until she’s awake.”

“Fernando, she wouldn’t want you to wear yourself thin because of her,” The way Mila said the words, it left a little unsaid.

“You know?” Was all he asked. Do you know about us? What do you think? What did she say about me? But Mila just nodded, she didn’t look judgemental.

“I know.”

He was about to leave to at least shower and eat something before coming back. As Mila got closer to your sleeping form, Fernando stood back and your sister touched your hand. Then she knocked three times on the bedside table. Fernando frowned.

“Why did you do that?” He asked Mila.

“When we were kids in karting, Dad used to do that to our helmets before races, each knock means a word. ‘I love you’, and with time it just became a silly habit of hers,” Mila explained.

Fernando’s heart twisted inside, eyes watering.

Knock. I. Knock. Love. Knock. You.

You had been doing the knocks to him for months, even before the summer break.

He left the room without a word, breathing in and out to stop the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes. He wasn’t an emotional man by any means, but the knowledge that you have been loving him for so long, broke his heart.

After going back to the hotel to shower and eat, he went knocking in Alberto’s room when he noticed he didn’t have his phone anywhere in sight ever since before the race had started. Like predicted, Alberto had his phone.

In his suite, Fernando unlocked his phone to hundreds of notifications, a lot from other drivers, asking for news about you, since not the Formula 1 or the FIA had released any notes about your condition. After shooting a few answers to the other drivers, he finally saw one notification, saying you had left him a voicemail the day before. From the time stamp, it was a bit before the race.

Wide eyed, he pressed play on the voicemail.

“Hey, I’m about to go out in the car, but I guess I just breathed 10 seconds of courage, well not enough to wait to say it to you face to face,” you giggled nervously, “but what I mean to say is, I love you. Probably not what you wanted to hear, but I do love you. And I know you don’t feel the same, but maybe you could… I don’t know, maybe you could take a chance on me. I know your reservations about the world, but… We should take the jump. I can make you really happy if you let me. And maybe one day you will grow to love me- god, that last part was pathetic- Shit- How do I delete this?” There was noise as if you were struggling with the phone and then someone called your name far away, “one second!” you told the person, “shit, I gotta go. Just please, can we talk over the winter break? I guess what I mean is that-” Then the beep ended the message, cutting your voicemail off.

He pressed play a couple more times, until he could breathe again, your voice offering some sense of peace to his mind. You were willing to have him, even after he kicked you out of his hotel room, even after he pretty much ignored your history all these past few months.

It would be alright. You would wake up, he would tell you he loved you and he was so sorry that he had wasted so much time being afraid of what people may think or how the world might treat you.

Only you didn’t.

You didn’t wake up after the meds wore off. And Fernando, your sister, Vince and Martha were all shocked when the doctor said it was possible you were in a coma.

“Everything seems ok, but she’s not waking up. Sometimes the body takes a little more time to recover from traumas like this.”

“When-” Mila’s voice failed, tears streaming down her face, “when do you believe she could wake up?”

“We can’t pinpoint that with precision,” the doctor answered.

“Get all the tests redone,” Fernando said suddenly, “maybe you missed something.”

“But-”

“I’ll pay for it.”

That’s all he said before leaving and entering a toilet by the waiting room. His chest heaving, he watered his shaky hands to try and calm down. You didn’t wake up. They weren’t sure when or if you would wake up. And, fuck, Fernando had seen that before with Jules, who was comatose for months before passing away.

He remembered the blinding pain of losing a friend and he couldn’t bear losing the love of his life too. Fernando stayed in the stall for a while, trying to calm down his terrified thoughts.

When he went back, your sister was still crying, being comforted by Vince.

“Fernando, can you stay here while we call my family?” Mila asked, and Fernando nodded.

As they left, Fernando sat by your side, holding your hand. With his thumb running over the back of your hand, he looked at your face.

“I don’t want you to go,” he whispered, “I need you here. There’s still so much for you here. Please, I just need you to fight a little more, yes? You have always been stubborn.”

He waited for some kind of miracle, for you to wake up, for your eyes to find him like they always did even in a crowded room.

“When you recover, we will go out, on a proper date, and we’ll dance, like you wanted to. We’ll hold hands and I’ll take you to meet my family.” He kissed the back of your hand softly, “Wake up, Mariposa.”

He stayed there the whole day, letting your sister go find a hotel to stay and get some sleep. Then at night, she came back, assuring Fernando that he should go to sleep too, she knew he was more than a day and a half awake. Back at the hotel, he showered the smell of hospital off and made some calls to take care of his businesses. He texted George and Alex to update them. He also talked to his family, giving updates on his teammate, but not prolonging the chat as to not risk breaking down because of the state his mariposa was in the hospital. Then he went to sleep after a quick dinner, exhausted enough to sleep fairly quickly.

He managed to sleep the whole night, going in and off dreams of you, his brain probably too worried to really forget, even unconscious. He woke up at dawn, going back to the hospital so your sister could leave to rest.

Fernando checked on you first thing, and you were still unconscious, but your sister was on the phone talking to your parents, so he just left to give her a little privacy. He went into the cafeteria and drank a small cup of coffee.

As he went back, he noticed how agitated Vince looked on the phone right outside your room.

“Vince, what happened?” He asked, dreading that the worse had happened in the few minutes he was away.

“She woke up!”

Fernando’s eyes welled up with tears as he opened the door.

“-No, no, don’t talk just yet. Let’s wait for the doctor,” you sister said to you, then both of them looked at Fernando, who looked rooted to the spot, “Fernando! She woke up!” Your sister said through happy tears.

Your sister hugged again, kissing your head, whispering how she loved you all while Fernando stood there, trying to will his limbs to move. Then the doctor and a nurse came, asking you all to leave so he could examine you.

He waited outside as your sister went on the phone with the good news to your family again. Then the doctor came out, announcing you were looking good, and apparently no sequelae but they would still keep you for a few more days for close examination and to make sure everything was alright.

Barely registering anything, Fernando just entered your room, and you smiled at him. You smiled. Your eyes shining bright like you had just woken up from a simple nap.

And then he cried. Fully cried for the first time since the accident, like the relief of seeing you alive and well broke the dam of the tears he had been trying to hold back. And he could breathe again. Covering his face with both hands, he tried to get himself in control but he only stopped when he heard you.

“Na-” your voice was hoarse, “-no.”

“No, don’t talk yet. The nurse said your throat might feel a little dry.” He managed to subside his tears enough to talk.

When he sat down on the chair, you lifted your hand to hold his face. You were still a bit weak, but you wiped his face of the tears. He held your hand with both of his, kissing your palm.

“You gave us quite the scare,” Fernando said with a small smile. You smiled back, looking sleepy, “I thought I was going to lose you.”

You shook your head minimally but your eyes had that mischievous glint, like you were thinking of a silly joke about how tough you actually are.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for making you think I don’t love you, when I really do. I have for the longest time. We’ll make it work, however you want,” he just dumped the words, not wanting to lose another precious second not being yours, “soy tuyo, Mariposa. Te amo, mi amor.”

You just held his hand, squeezing it slowly three times. I. Love. You.

[muffinsin]

Hi muffin :3

How do you think the sisters would act with an s/o who can turn into a cat (or something bigger like a lynx), maybe has catlike tendencies and the ears and tail in human form too?

Lemme just pull this one to the front of the queue

Hey, hon :)! Fun fact; this inspired me to finally note down my HCs in order to find and filter em a bit easier XP I got the majority of em by now, around 300 of my HCs. Enough of that, though ;P

Let’s get into it🙌

Masterlists

Bela

Bela finds you utterly adorable

As it comes to her, one might just be able to compare her to a dad not wanting a cat and ending up loving it

Bela "I don't want a relationship" Dimitrescu is, after all, head over heels for you

And, for your even more feline form

It startled out easy, with her picking up your scent during one of her monthly hunts

Something new- something odd

Something she hasn't smelled before

Something hurt. Bleeding, even

She tracked you down easily, as you weren't trying to conceal your presence from her. In fact, having lived the majority of your life in the forest after hunters drove you from home, you didn't even know about the Dimitrescus, having been lucky enough to never encounter her sister prior to that day

Then, lying hurt on the ground after stepping in one of the hunter's traps, you almost anticipated death

You couldn't shift to your more human form to at least try to pry open the jaw of the bear trap, your body weak, your fur bloodied

It was Bela who tore open the jaws of the trap, instead

You don't remember the day very well, only remember picking up her scent, rich and light, royal even, as she easily picked you up and carried you over her shoulders

You didn't care where to

And still, awakening in a large room with your injured leg wrapped in soft gauze and your other chained to the wall was not what you expected. Nor was the metal around your mouth, keeping it shut as though to stop you from biting

When you saw Bela the first time, you thought her dangerous with the blood sticking to her and the sickle in her hand. The second she stepped to you and you picked up the scent, however, you calmed again

Today still, you love her scent

It calms you like no other thing and you're deeply possessive about it

Whenever she attempts to switch to a different perfume or try a variety of different soaps, she finds herself whined and and growled at instead, or giggles when you (not quite as subtly as you might like to) swap out her perfume and soaps again

You can't help it, it brings you comfort

Then, in no time, the two of you became closer

She was there for you, every single day, checking in on you

You remember still, the first time you saw Daniela, her eyes wide and excited at the sight of- what had she called you?- a bit kitty in the castle

Bela had stepped in front of you, snarling, her arms crossed, then reaching out as her hand easily grabbed the base of her sister's hood and dragged her back from you like an unruly cat might

She still does this to you in your lynx form, often enough, though it is usually a matter of you letting her drag you, given your size in this form

When you regained your strenght, you were quite anxious about revealing your other form to her, though deemed it necessary one day, when you watched her curiously as she stretched, trying to undo the zipper of her dress. Only was this by her back, and no matter how she tried to turn, she couldn't reach it, too exhausted and a little too sticky with blood after her hunt to simply swarm out of her clothing

You always thought she was so confident for freeily undressing in front you. Looking back, she likely did so even at the start merely because she thought of you as nothing but a lynx, never noticed the person within watching her shyly

And still, she gasped when she first felt your human fingers drag the zipper for her, halfway down her back, just enough to expose her smooth back before you turned out of respect

She was left speechless, though thankfully connected the dots fast upon seeing a woman in place of the large lynx she had kept in her office for the past weeks

And with her knowing about your human form, she became more and more curious about you

The two of you would chat for hours, her asking several questions you didn't always have an answer to

The two of you are comfortable around one another, and deeply protective and possessive as it comes to each other

She wants you to be hers only. She shares all other things with her sisters, but never you

You, are only hers

In the morning, she makes sure you're clean every day and while she doesn't outright say it, she loves to have you curl up on top of her when she works, especially when transformed

She'll absently pat your head as it rests in her lap, humming silently

For you, this serves as a time when you get to relax and calm down, a welcome break from hunting or playing in the castle or forest

Speaking of, Bela is strictly against you going out and leaving the castle on your own. Transformed or not, you're a rare sight, enough for any hunters to keep an eye out for you. She would never want something to happen to you, and she dislikes the thought of her sisters approaching you without her there

They know not to hurt you, not to kill you especially. They know about her fondness of you, and still, she feels a nasty pang of possessiveness at even the thought of their gloved hands running through your fur or across your limbs

As such, you actually get her to hunt a little more often, if only to accompany you when you want to get some fresh air or run about. She knows, you need it, and she knows you won't leave her

You're utterly bound to her, her scent and presence deeply calming, your entire being in love with her. She's your everything, and you love being with her. It gives her all the reassurance she needs to allow you to roam free as you like, so long as she knows where you are in case of danger

In winter, she pleads you to stay within castle grounds, and often enough you actually find yourself being accompanied by Alcina Dimitrescu, who- despite not being thrilled at having to watch over you- could never say no to her eldest pleading for her to ensure your safety, insisting you're her everything, you're special, and she could never see you get hurt

In summer, she loves to be out with you, laughing and running with you

She isn't faster than you, but can keep up with you with little issue due to her swarm

Then, of course, there is the heat and the shedding in summer, too...

You hate it, though Bela at least makes it a little more bearable

While she loves the warmth, she helps you get to cooler areas in the castle and ensures you always have enough cool water around to battle the heat she so eagerly soaks up. You especially love being in your lynx form and lapping at the water as she pours it in front of you

One upside to this heat: you get to have a lot of baths with your soon-after-meeting-her girlfriend

Out of her sisters, Bela is the one to stay the cleanest and is the most hygenic. Still, especially in winter, she refuses bathing multiple times a day

In summer, you occaisionally abuse her care and obliviousness to how bothersome the heat is (or not!) by asking her for baths multiple times a day. You can't help it, not when it means seeing her strip from her tight dress and move in the water with you, her body close to yours, her flies calm at last

And speaking of; Bela has made it a point not to swarm near you unless necessary

That is mostly due to the fact you love to chase down and hunt the little things. Poor Bela squeals each time she swarms even a little and you automatically try to catch the little insects. While far too fast for your human form, you do occaisonally catch a couple with your large paws when transformed, and always nudge them apologetically when the little insects stop moving after

At night, she likes to sleep with you curled up by her side. Should you be transformed, you like sleeping on top of her, your face rested on her soft thigh, your paws stretching across her limbs

Otherwise, she'll eagerly hold you- or be held by you- all night long. Especially in winter does she love the warmth your fur offers and while it occaisonally has her sneeze, you often catch Bela nuzzling into it, as though chasing its warmth

Of course, you will always provide her with it

In summer, on the other hand, you like curling up by her, content to enjoy the feeling of her rather cool skin. As you are her heater, she's always doing a good job at helping you cool down effortlessly

Something a little more feral to consider, perhaps, is that you like bringing her little trophies whenever you get outside

And while Bela is perfectly capable of hunting, too, she usually ends up giving the countless fish and birds you bring her back to you with a sweet smile you just can't resist

In time, though, you find: your girlfriend actually likes the birds- alive ones, that is

And as such you make it your job to gently take some with you when you can, trying your best to be careful with the fragile creatures and bring them to her, only for her to release them in the castle's courtyard, where most stay and build countless little nests she likes to admire in her spare time

The fish, however, are all yours

Cassandra

Cassandra certainly finds you- interesting

At first, you were prey to her

Her favourite prey

She’d chase you through the woods, hold you down when she’s caught you and pat the space between your furry ears, as though petting you

When in your other form- as you often were to try to escape her- she’d stroke your fur. She’d often comment on how beautiful it was, giving twisted compliments such as that she would love to skin you and have you decorate the walls of her room

It’s a compliment, to her

But- she never did anything like that

She never left you with more than a few cuts and scratches, and occasionally a bite

She never killed you, never broke your limbs or caused irreversible damage

She liked you

You have always been special to her

Then, when you’re pursued by hunters one day and find yourself running blindly, you suddenly realize you’re far closer to the castle than you thought. You’re hurt, bloodied and beat, your usually so fierce snarls reduced to quiet whines and meow-like, dragged out screams

Just when the hunter approached you again, his shotgun raised and eye flashing his twisted, sadistic intentions and greed to turn your fur into gold, he was yanked away

You watch, confused and helpless, as Cassandra fights the three men pursuing you. She fights- differently, than she does with you. She doesn’t hold back like she does with you

She’s far faster, far more brutal. You watch as she effortlessly drags her sickle and digs her flies through the attackers

Not a single shot can even be fired, for her hand grabs the weapon and harshly yanks it from the man. She’s far too fast for them to catch up and far too fast for you, in your weakened state especially, to try and keep up with her

Your eyes slip shut to the screams of the men and her sadistic, loud, excited laughter

You don’t know what will happen, only knowing that her life- or death- lies in her bloodied hands

When you next awaken you’re in the castle, bathed in warmth and rich scents. You note almost immediately: you’re in a bed, large and comfortable. Upon looking around, you realise you must be in Cassandra’s room

Hunting trophies are pinned to the walls, weapons scattered about the floor. The curtains are drawn, a deep red shade, and a large bed stands in the far end of the room. Her bed, likely, whereas the one you’re on seems as though dragged in just to let you stay in the room

Your body aches, but as you look down you notice your wounds are cleaned out and bandaged

You know immediately; she saved you, took care of you

When she enters the room the next time, her eyes glint, and while she locks the door, you don't feel trapped

You know, the woman has had countless opportunities to kill you in the past

So why hasn't she?

She looks you up and down, her eyes taking in your human form. She isn't as familiar with this one, nearly thought you an intruder and killed you when she saw a woman rest in her room, rather than the large, lynx-like animal she dragged inside

Now, recognizing the same glint in your eyes, she's curious

You gasp in surprise when she suddenly swarms to you, her sickle suddenly held below your chin, tilting your head up

You want to say something, want to thank her, at least, but with her golden eyes piercing yours hungrily and her sickle held to your face, you feel as though all words are lost to you

Instead, you allow her to look at you, turn your head when she turns her sickle, shiver when she trails her gloved fingertips over your ears and the fur still growing along parts of your throat, cheek, arms, and waist. She doesn't look underneath the blanket covering you, but you're certain she's seen it, having placed bandages around your cuts

"Thank you", you eventually manage to breathe out, and immediately her head snaps to you, as though not expecting you to talk at all

She's impossibly close to you, her golden eyes taking in your form. You feel her breath against your face, pick up the scent of the woods, blood, and rich perfume that clings to her. You find her eyes, gold and stunning, allow your own to briefly linger on her face- her bloodied cheeks, her wide-ish nose, her lazy eye, her thick lips. Briefly, you think of reaching out and caressing them, but quickly shake the thought away, blaming your still dizzy state instead

And just as fast as she approached you, she swarms off again, humming something about resting some more, alongside with a promise, or perhaps a threat, that she will be back

And back she was

Cassandra was there every day, often dragged some still-twitching animal or woman in with her for you to feast on

Towards the end of your recovery, however, you instead found yourself having a new fate: Being Cassandra's

She had clasped a collar around your throat, a golden C engraved at the side, and while she has never said it, you knew not to attempt to exit the castle without her

Instead, you found yourself living almost as her pet

She'd occaisonally take you hunting with her, though you always felt her eyes on you, as if daring you to try to run off. In the beginning, she'd bring a leash, smirking at who you soon figured out must be her sisters, as though proud of the large, lynx-like creature sitting perfectly trained by her side

You find, have realized very early on, you like making her proud

You like seeing her smirk, and you love feeling her gloved fingers scratch at your ears and fur when you've been good

You like to hunt with her, like to bring her trophies, and must appreciatively rubbing against her leg when she takes her favorite ones and pins them to the walls of her room

Soon, you realize;

You like her

You adore her scent, her laughter, her presence, her humor, even her sadistic tendencies and feral moments make your heart flutter and stomach feel light

And Cassandra? You are everything to her

While it starts out as her keeping you as a pet, deeply possessive and protective over you, it soon blooms into her wanting to spend time with you

She'll drag you along wherever she goes, unsure how else to communicate that she wants you around

You notice, still, notice how she begins to open up a little more with you

She begins allowing you to sleep in her bed, in both of your forms, and while she starts out by holding only your leash to her, she soon begins quietly nuzzing your fur when she feels particularly tired, granting you but a glimpse of her care, love, and the vulnerability that comes with it

You never let her down

You stay still when she sleeps with her cheek smudged into your warm fur, breathe quietly when she sleeps with her head on top of your chest when in your human form

The two of you never bothered with terms. Soon, it became clear: you were hers,

and she was yours

Daniela

Daniela is absolutely smitten with you!

She thinks you're the cutest little thing in the world. Her little kitty, as she calls you even when you adapt a decent size when transformed, her little human, when in your regular form

She loves to cuddle up with you, and you love receiving gentle pats and strokes of her nails through your fur in return

She's so gentle with you, even when she's excited, and she absolutely loves feeling you purr on top of her when she reads to you and scratches that perfect spot right by your ear. Though, while she is gentle, she has at least once carefully tugged at your tail just to see your reaction

Speaking of, each time she taps your ears and they flick, she giggles adorably. At times, when in a particularly foul mood, you growl at her for trying to catch your ears between her fingers or raise your hand to catch her wrist, but a single coo and little pout on her lips is enough for you to already smile or purr again

She just has a way of making you feel happy

Daniela loves to go out with you for some fresh air in summer

Her favorite thing to do is to hunt with you nearby. When transformed, you occaisionally join her, hunting down mice or smaller animals or simply stalking them while she often goes for deers, bears, lycans, and about every unfortunate soul unlucky enough to get lost in the forest by the castle

Often, she'll coo when you encounter a lycan and hiss and snarl, your fur suddenly fluffy, your tail standing straight, your sharp claws out. She never lets you fight, but allows you to hiss away

Still, the second the lycan dares move towards her "precious kitty" she moves, fast as lightning, her sickle drawing a howl and causing an uncomfortable crunch as it connects with the monster's skull

She's incredibly protective of you

But, still, even with her being incredibly protective of you, Daniela finds it incredibly hot when you’re protective of her, too. Whenever snarl or bare your fangs at someone threatening her or a staff member merely stepping too close to the flirty redhead, she will literally swoon

When you're transformed and hunt together, she'll usually win and lightly tease you for it, a satisfied grin on her lips that makes you swoon. Should she lose, she usually pouts adorably, demanding a rematch or whining about how this and that is to blame. You always grant her this, simply enjoying spending time together

And to her too, this is one way of spending quality time together

Whenever you bring her one of her kills as an offering, she squeals happily

She sees it as a love offering!, and she eagerly shows it off to any who will listen and see- her mother, her sisters, even the prisoners down at the basement area unable to stop her when she yanks them about- often earning herself a growl from her sister when she is already busy with them- while rambling about you

She just can't help herself!

She loves you so much!

When back at the castle especially, it isn't uncommon for the two of you to spread pure chaos at times

After all, between her own impulsiveness, mischief and both of your at times rather feral ways, the castle is often filled with crashing noises, loud giggles and snarls, and little coos as you decide to hunt indoors for fun

Daniela is, even as she hasn't admitted it yet- and only because you have not asked- absolutely obsessed with your lynx form. The first time you transformed she immediately squealed, unable to sto gushing about you

She still squeals happily, often even picks you up and leaves you feeling surprised by doing so

She loves your beautiful fur and loves cuddling into it. With her feeling cold most of the time, there is nothing more beautiful to her than curling up against you or in your arms in front of the quiet fireplace, a book in her hand, her face smudged against your fur

When she sees your sharp teeth, she quietly swoons, though the blush on her cheeks is always telling even when she doesn't speak on it

In general though, Daniela ensures you always feel her affection and happiness

She's an incredibly touchy person, and with you being at least part feline, you more often than not prove to be the same. She constantly nuzzles you, at times drags her teeth against your neck as though to sink in and taste you. At other times she likes to bury her face in your neck or hair, sinking eagerly into your arms or keeping hers around you like you're her personal- and favorite- stuffed animal

Especially when transformed, you both have a habit of pouncing on one another randomly, which often turns to a mix of showing affection and starting little sessions of play fighting that she always (and easily) wins

And while your more human half certainly at times has to keep both of you in check, Daniela in turn encourages all your cat-like mischief, often having such urges herself deep inside, having only (thank god!- Alcina) grown out of them

Still, when you knock something over she giggles, and when you slumber in her sunbathing spot she whines, but eventually merely curls up with you no matter how little space is left

Whenever you stare off into the distance for a little too long and suddenly take off, sprinting after god knows what, Daniela immediately joins in. She doesn't know what you're chasing, but she's eager to help, and that about sums her up

When you work, however, Daniela is less patient. She just loves you so much! She wants all of you! Why can't you work as- what did she call it- the castle's rat- catcher or so

You had frowned at the words, though getting to make your daily hunting time your job sounds enticing

When you do work and are busy, you often enough flick your tail or ears and move from her, insisting you're busy. Daniela always follows you around almost like a lost puppy, whining or rambling, until you either cave in and give her attention again or she becomes bored and swarms off to annoy her sisters

Thankfully, however, with you both having very little to no sense of personal space at all, the two of you often end up curled together, as close as possible, or spend as much time as humanly possible with one another

Sometimes, you like to slow blink at her, especially so when you feel a little less talkative even in your human form. The day she finds out it means you're trying to show her your love, she always does it back without fail

And while you don't share all cat traits, you share enough. Kneading, namely, as well

Oh, and how Daniela swoons and loves when you do so on top of her, especially on her back. She'll giggle for a little bit at the feeling of your heavy paws against her back, but soon enough start producing a purr-like sounds with her flies that almost matches your own

You love hearing it

Once, just once you saw her try to copy you, rearranging her flies with great difficulty to maintain a tail somewhat matching yours for a few seconds or so. It was enough for you to automatically tackle her and rub your face all over hers, purring as you did so. She still sometimes thinks about it and smiles at the fond memory

You're so cute!

[dontlookatme121]

here are all of the fics i enjoyed between march 1st-11th 2025! some new, some old. mostly smut so MDNI!

characters: javier peña, joel miller, frankie morales, dave york, marcus acacius

if this works out, i may keep posting these little recaps whenever i have a some recs built up. i wanted to share my thoughts and some quotes instead of just listing the name and author, and i quickly realized a monthly list would be too long for that. i hope you can find some good reads and show the authors a little love!

note to the authors: ilyyy. you all have amazing minds, and deserve so so much appreciation. thank you for sharing your work, and enabling me to read smut instead of watch movies <3 if you were tagged in this and would like to have your work removed for any reason, please let me know!

WARNING: many of these fics contain dark themes that could be triggering. i will try to label accordingly, but PLEASE read the warnings. not all of these are for everyone!

smut- ♡ angst- ★ fluff- ✿ dark- !!

♡ wicked whims by @myownwholewildworld (wc: 1.1k - oneshot)

pairing: javier peña x f!reader

summary: javi catches you playing wicked whims in the sims and decides to make your fantasies a reality.

thoughts: march started out incredibly strong with this absolute banger. this fic IS FOR ME. i feel seen, i feel understood, i feel sexually frustrated. i will be reinstalling wicked whims tonight, consider my first sims 4 phase of 2025 activated.

★ ♡ who will i say goodnight to when you're gone? by @miss-oranje-disco-dancer (wc: 3.6k - oneshot)

pairing: javier peña x reader

summary: you are javi are just coworkers who sleep together, nothing more

thoughts: AGHHH. the smutty angst is so good. i cant put it into words so i’ll just let it speak for itself:

'Maybe Javier kisses because it's the one form of intimacy that doesn't force you to look the other person in the eye. Eyes are the window to the soul, they say. Javi's eyes contain a softness that you cannot find outside of warm summer nights that exist so far in space and time that you can barely reach the memories. He holds hope in his entire body — hope isn't usually a pretty little thing that Emily Dickinson said it was - it's hardened and stubborn, it is the fucking metal bars that keep him here in Colombia despite it all.'

♡ !! nena mala by @pedrosyouknowwhat (oneshot) !! TW !!

pairing: Dark! Javier Peña x Dark! Reader

summary: After the fall of the godfathers, Peña takes his personally desired target.

thoughts: god i love it when javier peña is the worst person ever. hello my old friend, degradation kink.

★ The boyfriend act, part 7: "The one with unexpected visit” by @capuccinodoll (ch wc: 10.4k - series) (★- only angst as of now?)

pairing: frankie morales x f!reader

SERIES summary: All you wanted was to get to Austin, but instead of your brother, it’s Frankie —Santi’s best friend, the one you can barely stand— who shows up in Dallas. He’s just doing your brother a favor, but the trip takes an unexpected turn when a stop puts you face to face with your ex — the guy who broke your heart three months ago and is now about to get married.

Out of pride, you blurt out a lie: Frankie is your boyfriend. Surprised but willing to play along, he agrees, with one condition — you must accompany him to his mother’s birthday. His plan? Dodge his family’s meddling and their endless matchmaking schemes.

thoughts: im absolutely obsessed with this series, you really dont want to get me started… this WILL continue to show up in future fic rec posts because it’s so so good omg (read it). if for some reason you’d like to read a more extensive version of my thoughts on this chapter, you can read this incredibly long reblog.

♡ Eight Ball Corner Pocket by @thechaoticcherub (wc: 7.7k - oneshot)

pairing: Jackson!Joel x Plus Size!Reader

summary: Reader goes on a really bad date, Joel steps in to help make her forget it.

thoughts: this was such a lovely read (and so hot omfg). i cannot recommend this enough.

'“Quit it,” He said, “Don’t you think for a single second that you’re the one reachin’ here, i’m old enough to be your daddy and you’re…look at you.” You could see barely controlled lust in his eyes as they roamed over your body and the way he did it didn’t make you feel like he was appraising you to see if you were worth it. He was appreciating you. Appreciating the way your breasts stretched the fabric of your dress and the way you could see the curve of your belly, the way your thighs pressed together. You stared at him, trying to take in the truth of his statement, trying to remember how pretty you had found yourself that morning before you had been reminded of all the insecurities of your teenage years.'

♡ !! because of you by @almostempty (wc: 7k - oneshot) !! TW !!

pairing: dave york x f!reader

summary: You reveal at a party that you've never cried during sex, but Dave is going to fix that for you.

thoughts: ill never forget you, unreliable narrator dave york. the way he obsesses over the reader, picking apart all of their conversations and interpreting everything in his special delusional way. UGH ITS SO GOOD. to keep this part brief, i will simply implore you to READ THIS (after you read the warnings), its brilliant.

'After that night, he notices you change tactics. You feed him little crumbs in every conversation. Leads you know he’ll follow. Hints about the weak spots in your relationship, your unlived dreams, your pent up desires. He knows what you’re asking for. He reads exactly what you’re saying between the lines. His walls are crumbling and it gets harder and harder to be the one solely responsible for keeping the boundaries between you. He compartmentalizes. Conceding. You can have his dreams, his showers, his mornings. Take them. Keep them. But it’s never enough. It grows stronger. To obsession.'

update: the award for the fic i thought about most after reading it goes to this beauty. i admitted in my reblog that i had never seen the equalizer movies, but this made me want to finally watch them so i could appreciate this to its fullest extent, and i did! i also sent this to my friend who doesn't read ppcu fics because its just that good. i'm not getting over this any time soon.

✿ Just Coffee by @daryltwdixon (two parts)

pairing: joel miller x reader

'"Coffee. Just coffee." You could’ve kissed him right then and there. And he was handsome enough that you wouldn’t even have to close your eyes. He must’ve caught the way your shoulders relaxed, how the sigh left your body like a weight lifted.'

♡ Just Coffee II

summary: Joel picks you up after a long day, taking you somewhere small and familiar, where conversation flows as easily as the wine. As the night winds down and Joel insists on driving you home, neither of you are ready to say goodbye quite yet.

thoughts: this healed the ex-barista/assistant manager in me. to put it simply, pt.1 is fluffy joel gold and pt.2 is smutty joel GOLD. chefs kiss.

unnecessary lore drop: i (18 at the time) got asked out by a regular (65) and he DID NOT look like joel miller. maybe gary was the hot old man for someone, but def not for me. the owner of the coffee shop (50, married) had a huge crush on him, so that was amusing i guess.

♡ One Of The Girls by @gothcsz (wc: 1.1k - oneshot)

pairing: Marcus Acacius x F!Reader x 3 F!Nameless OCs

summary: General Acacius has three women that he keeps solely for his indulgent pleasure and control, you want to become the fourth.

thoughts: GORGEOUS. the picture has been painted in my mind and it’s going to haunt me. this is just insane work, really. i need 4 more parts and a few days to recover.

‘The first time you heard whispers of his indulgences, you had thought them scandalous. A man of bloodshed, ruthless on the battlefield, bringing that same ruthless discipline into the bedroom. But when you had seen him that night, wielding pleasure like a weapon, you had known—this was the life you were meant for. Since then, obsession had taken root in you, winding tight around your ribs, pressing against your lungs with every thought of him. You spent your days languishing in fantasies, picturing what it would be like to be one of his girls—to be chosen, touched, tamed.’

♡ First Sight by @gothcsz (wc: 3.5k - oneshot)

pairing: Frankie Morales x F!Reader

summary: Two strangers discover they’ve been swapping movies through a communal space, each leaving a note in return until curiosity forces a meeting.

thoughts: great smut. great banter. HOT. i need that man so bad.

'Things escalate fast. You’re sitting on the couch, the low hum of the movie playing in the background, the two of you exchanging quiet comments between drags of the joint he so effortlessly rolled. The space between you shrinks. His fingers graze your thigh, intentional but unhurried. You don’t remember who moves first. Maybe it’s you. Maybe it’s him. But your bodies are pressed together, mouths hungry, hands wandering. His cap gets flicked off, curls spilling into your fingers as you tug him closer, inhaling the scent of smoke and tasting the candy he’d been snacking on. The movie is forgotten. The joint smolders in the ashtray. You straddle his lap, rolling your hips down, and he groans against your mouth, gripping your waist.'

dividers by: cherry divider- @uzmacchiato, mdni divider- @strangergraphics, red divider- @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

[writingwithciara]

broken legos -matt sturniolo-

summary: matt and y/n are both lego lovers so every month, they buy a set to work on together. it’s become such a normal part of matt’s routine that he doesn’t know what to do when y/n’s attention and time is turned elsewhere

word count: 5.1k

pairings: matt sturniolo x best friend reader, chris sturniolo x platonic reader

notes: i love how much matt likes legos and since he's just the cutest, i had to write this for him.

masterlist

y/n and matt weren’t really friends until the triplets 11th birthday. she attended their party only because they had invited everyone in their classes and because her mom was good friends with mary lou.

her mom had picked out an individual present for each of them. they each got a different lego set so when the boys unwrapped their gifts, y/n’s eyes widened and she looked at her mom.

“how come i can never get a lego set, mom?” she pouted.

“because, sweetheart. you never ask for one.”

“you can help me with mine if you want.” matt suggested shyly. he smiled at her so kindly and y/n found herself wondering how she had never really wanted to be friends with him in the first place.

“okay. deal.” y/n returned the smile as both her mother and mary lou beamed with pride. they were finally getting what they wanted. their kids hanging out together.

they got lego sets on their birthday every year and y/n would work with matt to put them together. what started off as an annual thing, quickly turned into a monthly thing for the two of them.

the triplets had just turned 20 & y/n bought matt a ginormous harry potter lego collection that was surely going to take up a majority of their time.

matt was excited for it. maybe even more so than y/n because over their 9 years of friendship, he had developed feelings for his best friend. he knew it wasn’t right to have the feelings but there was nothing he could do about them. their time together became special to him and he cherished every second he got to spend with her.

they immediately began working their way through the diagon alley sets and the process was about to start on the hogwarts castle.

y/n clicked the last two bricks for the gringotts bank together and looked at her creation.

“it looks so perfect. don’t you think?”

“i agree, y/n/n. you killed it.”

“no, we did it together. as a team.”

“we make an incredible team, don’t we?”

“yeah. we sure do.” y/n smiled and looked at the box that contained to castle. “how long do you think that things going to take us?”

“not too long hopefully. i wanna display it and feel proud of something for once.”

“matt, you’re a youtube star. you should be proud of all the hard work you’ve put into this career.”

“i am proud of it. but sometimes, it lacks a certain feeling. i love my fans to death but it gets overwhelming and the only way i find any escape is the time i spend with you putting lego sets together.”

“i understand that feeling all too well, matthew.” she looked at her phone to check the time. “i should be headed out soon. i have to work tomorrow and the commute is going to kill me so i need some rest.”

“why don’t you stay here tonight? i can drive you in the morning.”

“thats sweet, matt. but no. thanks for the offer but i’m fine going home now.” she smiled and stood up. matt followed her to the kitchen.

“i’m serious. we live closer to where you work so it wouldn’t take as long to get there.” he looked at her. “do you just not want to spend time with me anymore?”

“what? no. i will never feel that way about you. you know that.”

“no, i know. it’s a stupid question anyway.”

“i do want to spend time with you. i always do. it’s my favorite thing to do. but if i keep spending nights here, someone’s gonna notice and your fans will freak out and jump to conclusions.”

“yeah i guess you’re right.” he sighed. “but please? just for tonight? i can tell you’re tired and i don’t want you driving home like that. don’t know what i would do if something bad happened to you.”

“okay. i’ll stay. but only for tonight. and only because you said please.”

“that makes me feel so much better.” matt smiled. "you can take the bed and i’ll sleep out on the couch.”

“don’t be ridiculous. your bed is big enough. it’s always been big enough for the both of us. you’re sleeping in here with me.”

“well if you insist.” matt didn’t put up much of a fight. he knew she was going to make him sleep in the bed with her.

“i’m gonna go change into some comfier clothes then. see you in about 10.” y/n grabbed a pair of sweatpants and one of matt’s old t-shirts then went to the bathroom. matt quickly changed then sat in his computer chair to wait. when she came out, they both got under the covers and went to bed.

matt waited until he knew she was dead asleep before grabbing his pillow and going out to the couch. he knew she’d be upset but he could handle that. what he couldn’t handle was the warm feeling rising in his chest.

he had convinced himself that his feelings were just those of a little crush. but the more time he spent with her, the stronger they got. he had known her his whole life and despite having only been friends for 9 years, every time they talked, he was finding something new about her that he liked. he’d been trying to think less about her but it was impossible. so he started distancing himself a little.

to say y/n was upset with the distance would be an understatement. her heart was breaking. after a week, she went to chris to see if he knew anything.

“i actually have no idea why he’s being so moody lately. maybe he was talking to a girl who only wanted to use him and he doesn’t want to tell us because he’s ashamed or something.”

“that’s horrible, chris. do you think that’s what really happened?” y/n could feel her heart breaking at the thought of someone hurting matt in any way.

“i doubt that’s what happened, but there’s so many possibilities as to why he’s distancing himself from everyone.”

“yeah i guess.” y/n sighed and set the lego box on the kitchen table. “we were supposed to start this lego set this weekend but he hasn’t been talking to me so i guess i’ll have to do it by myself.”

“wait. i can help you if you want.”

“that’s nice of you, chris. but you don’t have to make up for your brothers absence in my life.”

“hey, you’re my friend too. in fact, you were my friend first actually. so i would love to start hanging out with you again.”

“okay fair point.” y/n looked from the set to chris, contemplating on his offer. “yeah. let’s do it.”

“cool. can’t wait to start.”

“wanna start tonight?”

“yeah sure.” chris smiled. “wait, i can’t tonight. we’re filming a video tonight.”

“oh. tomorrow then?”

“we could actually start tonight if you don’t mind hanging around until we finish filming.”

“you doing a car video or one in the kitchen?”

“kitchen.”

“then can i chill in your room while you film it?”

“why don’t you sit behind the camera and be like an assistant?”

“i’ve never done that before. what will i have to do?”

“you’ll just have to hand us things when we need them. and don’t worry about being on camera. i’ll have nick edit you out.”

“thanks chris. i appreciate it.” she looked around the room. “are the boys even home?”

“no. matt took nick to pick up supplies for the video.”

“why didn’t you go with them? you always do.”

“i had a feeling you’d be stopping by so i figured i’d stay home. didn’t want to miss my opportunity to see you.”

“although you weren’t the triplet i was hoping to talk to, i’m glad you were here.”

“i’m here whenever you need someone to talk to.”

“i appreciate that. thanks, christopher.”

“chris, we’re home!” nick called from the garage. “come help with the stuff.”

“one sec!” he yelled back and turned to y/n. “be right back.” he was gone before she could reply. seconds later, matt was coming up the stairs. he noticed her sitting at the table and stopped in front of the stairs. nick bumped into him and almost fell down the stairs. but once nick saw y/n too, he understood.

“matt, what the fuck? stop acting so weird. she’s your best friend, for crying out loud.” he whispered to his brother.

“just trying to figure out what she’s doing here.” matt replied, rather loudly, causing y/n’s head to shoot up. she noticed matt and sighed.

of course he would make that comment, she thought.

chris heard what matt said and pushed past his brothers to sit next to y/n.

“i invited her here to work on this lego set after we’re done filming tonight. speaking of which, she’s going to be our off camera assistant for the video. so if you have a problem with her being here, i suggest you speak up. or don’t. because she’s staying whether you like it or not.”

“i’m cool with it. it’s not a bad idea to have someone helping out off camera every once in a while.”

“sure. whatever works.” matt waved his hand around and retreated to his room. nick turned to his friend and shook his head.

“please excuse him. he’s been moody all day.”

“kid needs some action. let’s be real.”

“we could probably arrange something.” y/n scrolled through her phone, only half paying attention to the conversation. when she looked up, chris raised his eyebrow. “what? he clearly hasn’t been laid in a while so maybe we should find him someone.”

“i understood what you meant. but i never imagined the suggestion coming from you.” nick chuckled.

“i’m full of surprises.”

“alright. let’s get this video over with.” matt walked out of his room and stood at the kitchen table. he eyed chris and y/n who were conversing in a tone nobody else could hear. she glanced at matt then laughed at what chris said before the two of them were joining matt and nick in the kitchen.

y/n hit the record button as instructed and chris began introducing the video. she watched as the boys each said what they were going to do for the video. matt’s eyes lit up with excitement when he was describing his portion of the video and for a second, it made y/n’s heart melt. until he made eye contact with her and rolled his eyes. whatever she was feeling for matt was quick to disappear.

after the video was filmed, matt headed back to his room and nick went to his. y/n sat with chris at the table as they began the lego set.

“so, do you think matt’s problem is that he hasn’t fucked anybody lately and it’s just built up aggression?”

“that’s one way to put it. but yeah. it all adds up.” chris was focused on the section of the set he was tasked with assembling. his tongue darted in and out as he searched for each piece.

“i guess so.” y/n glanced behind chris at the hallway that went to matt’s bedroom. she prayed he would walk out at that very moment and everything between them would be fixed. but that didn’t happen.

over the next few hours, chris was focused more on the task at hand than y/n was so when he fell asleep at the table, she wasn’t surprised.

“chris, i think you need some rest.” she giggled at his half asleep response as he swatted her hand away.

“five more minutes. i want to get this part done.” he held the pieces up to show her what was left. she looked down at the diagram and smiled.

“that part is finished, chrissy. looks amazing. you did good.”

“thank you.”

“do you want to head to bed now?”

“will you be joining me?”

“i gotta clean up a bit but i’ll be down there in a few minutes, okay?”

“yay.” chris stood up and pulled the lego piece from his cheek. he nearly tripped down the stairs and when he got to his room, he was out like a light.

y/n on the other hand was still very much awake. as she cleaned up their work area, she couldn’t help but glance towards matt’s room. her hope was shrinking. all she wanted was to confront him and ask why he was being such an ass lately. she wanted to yell at him for breaking her heart. but she knew that if she saw him, she would crumble. no yelling would take place on her end. and at this point, she didn’t even care if he yelled at her. she just wanted to see him.

she had put the lego pieces into their designated bin and set the already assembled parts off to the side. just as she was about to head down to chris’ room, she heard a door open and footsteps entered the kitchen. she turned around and saw matt at the refrigerator. his back was turned so he didn’t notice her standing there.

“matthew bernard, we need to talk.”

“no we don’t.” he shook his head, grabbed his root beer and headed back towards his room. y/n was not about to let him go without a fight. she immediately followed and just as matt was about to get comfy at his computer, she pushed the door open and stomped inside.

“you are not pulling this shit with me, matt. it’s complete bullshit.”

“god, do you ever mind your own business?” he set his can down and rolled his eyes. “i don’t owe you anything.”

“as your best friend, i think your absence needs to be explained.”

“we can’t be friends anymore. there’s your explanation.”

“not good enough.” she sat on the edge of his bed and stared at him before averting her gaze and fiddling with her fingers. “why don’t you want to be friends anymore? did i do something wrong?”

“yes. now please leave me alone. i’m tired.”

“okay.” y/n sighed and left his room without putting up more of a fight. matt sighed and leaned back in his chair. it was killing him to hurt her this way but he had to do it. his feelings weren’t reciprocated and he needed to distance himself, whatever it took.

the next morning, y/n was quiet throughout breakfast, which was unusual to chris. she was normally a yapper like he was but when she responded to his cheery good morning with a slight head nod, he knew something was up. and he knew exactly what caused it. or more specifically, who caused her to go silent.

when they were finally alone, y/n broke down and told chris everything. she didn’t want him to be mad at matt so when she explained it all, it took all of her strength to keep him from confronting matt.

“please don’t. it’s not worth it.”

“bullshit it’s not. he’s ruining the most amazing friendship for something so stupid. he didn’t even tell you what you happened to do to cause this sudden change so he doesn’t get to be protected by you anymore. i have to kick his ass.”

“chris, please?”

“ugh, fine. but i don’t like this. you used to be so happy and calm. but now you’re the complete opposite. it changed overnight and i’m not happy about it.”

“i’ll be fine. i still have you and nick.” she smiled at her best friend. it was only a half smile. the one where chris could tell she didn’t want to do it. but he put his arm around her and smiled back.

“i’m gonna make you feel better.”

“and how do you plan on doing that, christopher?”

“by taking you to get lunch. your favorite.”

“you can’t drive, moron. but i appreciate the thought.”

“damn. what can we do that’s close to the house?”

“can we continue the lego set? we were getting so far before someone passed out.”

“hey, i was working really hard.”

“i know. you worked yourself into a deep sleep, darling.”

“if that’s what will make you happy, then let’s go finish the set.”

“yay.” y/n clapped her hands together and ran upstairs. chris chuckled and followed behind her.

“i’ll order your favorite food for lunch.” he pulled out her chair for her then sat next to her with a smile.

“chris, you don’t have to.”

“i know. but you’re my best friend and i love making you happy because i love you.”

“i love you too.”

and they both meant it. not romantically of course. but they both knew that their bond was unbreakable, even more so now than it had ever been.

matt walked out of his room when he heard y/n giggling. he didn’t expect to see y/n leaning her head on chris’ shoulder. it bothered him but there was nothing he could do about it. instead, he cleared his throat to make his presence known. y/n was the first to turn.

“oh. it’s just you. what do you want?”

“you to leave.” matt replied rather quickly, like he had been storing that answer away for this specific moment, causing y/n to stare at him in shock.

“fuck you, matt.” y/n looked at chris before sliding her chair away from the table. “i’m sorry, chris. but i can’t do this anymore.” she grabbed her phone and walked out the front door.

“what the fuck, matt?!?!” chris yelled at his brother before running after y/n.

matt watched them disappear and let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. nick appeared seconds later and gave matt a look.

“what is wrong with you?” he didn’t even have to ask what happened. he heard the majority of it. “if that’s how you treat women, it’s no wonder you’re single.”

“hey, just back off. i need some space away from her.”

“and instead of telling her, like an adult, you just stopped talking to her entirely? except when you do actually speak to her, you’re the biggest asshole in the planet.” nick shook his head. “why do you need the space anyway?”

“it’s complicated, nick.” matt collapsed on the couch and took a breath before resting his head in his hands. “i’m in love with her.” for the first time since matt realized how he felt, the revelation felt real. someone else was now aware of the feelings.

“then tell her, you fucking dumbass. this isn’t healthy. for either of you. you’re breaking more hearts than needed.”

“i can’t tell her. she’s my best friend.”

“correction. she was your best friend, up until about a week ago, when you became a complete dickhead. just fucking talk to her.”

“i just can’t. it’s better this way.”

“for who, matt? for who?” nick slapped his brothers shoulder and returned to his room, leaving matt alone.

outside, y/n made it halfway down the street before chris caught up to her. when he was beside her, she slowed her pace and looked at her feet.

“i’m sorry for leaving like that, chris. i just can’t get it through my head that i was best friends with someone for 9 years and now it’s just all gone to shit.” she kicked a stone in her path and turned to enter the park. she sat on one swing while chris sat next to her on the other. “i just don’t understand what i even did for him to be acting this way, you know? if i had any idea, it might take the weight off my shoulders. but either way, it sucks.”

“yeah. i know.” chris looked over at her and sighed. “i wish things were different.”

“why couldn’t i have fallen in love with you instead? we have so much more in common and you’re actually nice to me. you care about me and matt does not.”

“you love him?” chris’ eyes widened at his best friends revelation. y/n froze for a brief moment before making the swing move side to side.

“yeah, i guess i do. and part of me just wants to yell at him and tell him he’s breaking my heart and the other part just wants to yell at him. which would be fine but i know i could never yell at him. it sucks.”

“i understand. it’s confusing, but i think i get it. and if we loved each other, then life would be simpler.”

“life is never simple for me. it’s like the universe is telling me i’m never meant to be happy.”

“why don’t you try telling matt how you feel? maybe he feels the same.”

“um, did you miss the part where i said the universe doesn’t want me to be happy? because in a perfect world, matt would definitely have feelings for me.”

“you guys are so similar and the fact that neither of you has realized that the other one is in love with you, is ridiculous. i mean, it’s pretty obvious how much you guys truly love each other.”

“i don’t think it’s-“

“oh please. the stares, the fact you’re together 24/7, the inside jokes, the way you blush when he even acknowledges you. the constant teasing. the hand holding in public so y’all don’t get separated from each other. you guys are like the little 4x1 flat lego bricks.”

“come again?”

“you’re good on your own but when you’re attached together, it’s hard to pull you apart.”

“when did you become so wise, christopher?”

“i’ve always been wise. but for matters of the heart, i’m an expert.”

“says the guy who’s never had a girlfriend before.”

“i don’t want to commit to someone if they’re not gonna stick around. i want it to be real.”

“yeah i get that. but thank you for this talk. maybe i’ll talk to matt when i’m over next time.”

“why not stay tonight? we still have to finish that lego set.”

“i’m not ready to see matt.” she sighed. “but if we can do it in your room, i would consider staying tonight.”

“you got yourself a deal. and you can even have my bed tonight.”

“such a gentleman, christopher.” y/n stood from her swing and pulled chris up. “let’s go.”

when they got back home, matt was nowhere to be found. it was like y/n’s prayers had been answered.

they quickly got to work on finishing their lego set. chris played some quiet music in the background and helped put the finishing touches on the set. when it was finished, y/n smiled widely.

“thank you for this, chris.”

“it was my pleasure. and i know i wasn’t the triplet you pictured while working on this set, but i’m glad you let me help.”

“i’d pick you any day.” she patted his knee and stood up to stretch. “i’m gonna go get some snacks from the kitchen. want anything?”

“pepsi of course.”

“should’ve known.” she playfully shook her head and walked up to the kitchen. nick was in the living room and when he saw her, he smiled.

"hey. what are you up to?"

"just grabbing some snacks for chris and i. what are you up to?" she opened the fridge and grabbed the drinks before going to the pantry and looking through the snacks.

"matt said something to me earlier and i've been thinking about it for a few hours."

"what did he tell you?"

"i think that's something he needs to tell you himself."

"that would be easy if he was actually talking to me instead of being an asshole." y/n set the snacks on the counter and turned towards the living room. it was then that she noticed the flowers on the table. "what's this?" she walked closer and looked at them. there was a note under the flowers so she picked it up and read it. it was in matt's handwriting.

i know this may be a little too late but i needed to let you know that i am sorry for being so stupid. these are your favorite flowers and i will love you until the very last one dies. i promise.

y/n inspected the flowers and noticed that one of them was made entirely out of legos. "nick, were you aware of this?"

"i wasn't aware that this would be how he was going to tell you. but i knew he loved you." nick stood next to her and smiled. "what do you think?"

"is this why he's been an ass lately? because he loves me?"

"i think so." he put his hand on her shoulder and admired the flowers. "so he loves you. do you love him?"

"i do, actually. but this isn't fair. he can't treat me the way he has been & then try to make things better by giving me a lego flower."

"maybe you guys need to talk. he's in his room." nick nodded his head down the hallway before heading up to his room. y/n glanced at the snacks, then at the hallway that lead to matt's room. she grabbed the lego flower and the note then headed to matt's room. she knocked gently and the door swung open. upon seeing her, matt's gaze softened.

"hey." he looked at her hands and saw the flower. "i see you got the note."

"i did." she walked past matt and sat in his chair while he sat on the edge of his bed. "it's not fair, matt."

"what do you mean?"

"while i appreciate the lego flower, i don't appreciate the fact that you've treated me like crap for a week and thought you could make up for it with the note and the flowers."

"i figured it wouldn't be enough but just so you know, i'm prepared to do whatever it takes to win you back. you being with chris just isn't natural."

"me and chris? is that why you've been upset these past few days? you think i'm with chris?"

"you've been spending so much time with him lately. and you guys have so much chemistry."

"well, that's ridiculous."

"so you're not with chris?"

"no. but i've come to the realization that my life would be easier if i had just fallen in love with him instead of you."

"you fell in love with me? when?"

"like 5 years ago, i think. and it's been torture just being your friend for so long. every time we'd start a new lego set, it was like falling in love with you all over again. your face would light up like a kid in a candy store and i found it so endearing whenever you'd receive a new set."

"if it helps, it's been torture for me too. i've been pretending for years that i had no feelings for you whatsoever. and i realize now that there is absolutely no real excuse for the way i acted recently. but these feelings are fairly new to me. and i thought i had gotten over what i thought was just a crush. but it turns out, i love you. and i'm always going to love you, no matter what. you can stay mad at me and that's fine. because i love you." matt's leg began to bounce as he confessed everything. y/n got up from the chair and sat beside him. "and it's been torture to see you and chris working on lego sets when that was our thing."

"working on lego sets with chris meant nothing to me. sure it was fun and i enjoy spending time with him. but it was nothing compared to doing them with you." y/n placed her hand on his calmly, stopping his leg from shaking. he looked at her and when their eyes met, matt felt like he was on fire. like he was falling in love again.

"can we start over?"

"and erase our entire history? not a chance." y/n smiled. "let's just pretend the last week didn't happen and we can pick up where we left off, if that's okay with you."

"it's more than okay with me." matt chuckled. "just promise me you won't work on anymore lego sets with chris."

"from now on, i will only work on lego sets with the person i love."

"i love you too." matt smiled and placed a soft kiss to her forehead.

"you still have the hogwarts castle? or did you do it yourself?"

"i was hoping to start it with you."

"good. we can start it in the morning."

"why not right now?" matt pouted when y/n stood up.

"because i promised chris snacks and a pepsi. don't want to make him wait any longer for them."

"can't you just deliver them to him then come back? i miss you and i'm sure he'll understand."

"we'll see. but you'll understand if i don't return tonight?"

"of course. chris is important to you and i love that you guys get along so well."

"and i'm sure he'll understand it when i tell him i want to come up here to spend time with you."

"hurry back, love." matt chuckled and watched y/n disappear from his room. she walked into chris' room with the snacks and smiled at him.

"what took you so long?"

"i made up with matt and turns out, he loves me." she couldn't contain the excitement she was feeling.

"i told you he did. and i'm so happy for you." he chuckled and opened his pepsi. "i take it you want to spend time with matt again, right?"

"you're not mad, are you?"

"of course not. you're happy and that makes me happy." chris smiled. "just don't abandon me altogether."

"i promise to make time for you too, chris." she kissed his head and ran back up to matt's room, jumping on his bed. "he understood."

"great. now i can do something i've been wanting to do for months." matt pulled her close and finally kissed her. the feeling of her lips fitting perfectly with his was enough to make him feel like he was dreaming. thankfully, he wasn't. it was real and matt couldn't get enough.

being together was good for the both of them.

[sweetbutpsychobutsweet]

Raspberry Leaves

Chapter 15

Thorin Oakenshield x AFAB!Reader

Summary: It's the morning after, and the long-dreaded visitor has finally made an appearance. Luckily, Thorin has just the cure. However, resuming the journey has forced you to wonder once again: What is this new relationship you share with Thorin, and how long will it last?

Warnings: no use of y/n, angst, 18+, NSFW, minors do not interact, mentions of menstruation, mentions of period sex (not described in much detail lol sorry), angst, allusion to breeding/pregnancy kink

Author's Note: I know this one took a while, so thank you so much for your patience! Life has been crazy lately with my job and writing my own book so I couldn't give this story as much of my attention as I'd like. However, I've already started on the next chapter and have plenty of fun things to come!

Word count: 1833

When morning comes, you wake up aching. An aching no longer only for Thorin, but because of him. You haven’t even moved a muscle and you can already feel the soreness between your legs. And not just between your legs. In your back, and low in your belly. Sharp contractions come in waves pulling you from a blissful sleep.

A telltale sign of what is to come. Your monthly pains have returned, no doubt thanks to Thorin’s steadfast dedication to keeping you fed and well nourished. For the first time in ages, you feel safe and cared for, which means your uterus is ready to riot.

With a groan you roll over onto your side, nuzzling deeper into Thorin’s warm chest. His breath hitches with the movement and you feel him start to stir beside you.

Still clinging to the haze of sleep you refuse to open your eyes just yet as strong arms wrap tighter around you. Maybe if you pretend to be asleep you won’t have to get back on the road just yet. Deep down you know as soon as you step out of this room everything will have to go back to normal. Save for a few knowing glances and snickers from Kili and Fili. You’ll pretend as if nothing has changed between the two of you and Thorin will do the same.

That’s the way you need it to be.

But that doesn’t mean you can’t hold onto this feeling for just a little while longer.

Thorin’s lips brush against your forehead, pressing a gentle kiss to your hairline.

“I know you’re awake,” he murmurs.

“Am not,” you insist, stifling a yawn. “I’m still asleep, and not at all sore.”

He chuckles softly, running his fingers through your hair splayed out across the pillow beneath you.

“Apologies,” his voice rumbling through his chest sends tingles down your spine. “I got a little carried away last night.”

“You should be, but it isn’t that,” reluctantly you reach a hand up to wipe the sleep from your eyes as you blink up at him. “If you hadn’t insisted on feeding me every chance you got I wouldn’t feel like someone’s using my womb for target practice.”

You can practically hear the gears turning in his head as he’s silent for a moment.

“Oh, I see,” he finally says with a laugh. His hand playing with your hair travels down your naked body to rest over your pelvis, his fingers gently pressing into the muscles of your angry uterus. The warmth of his hand is a soothing relief and you hum as he massages slow circles into your abdomen.

“Do you need anything?” he asks but you just shake your head.

“I have plenty of rags, I should be fine.”

The sun has started to stream through the dusty window above you. Dust particles float in the air as the light touches the worn floorboards. You both watch in a comfortable silence as the sun beams gradually shift from a gentle orange to a brighter yellow. “Most of the others will be up by now,” Thorin says and you stubbornly squeeze your eyelids shut again.

“Good for them,” you grumble, refusing to move just yet.

But despite your whines of protest, Thorin reluctantly slips from the bed with an apologetic kiss to your cheek.

“I’ll bring some breakfast and hot water to clean you up,” he says as he starts to pull his clothes back on. “You should start getting dressed.”

He disappears out the door before you can warn him not to get his hopes up.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thorin does indeed return with food and hot water. And he’s not the least bit surprised to find you still in the same spot he left you, moments away from falling back asleep.

He knows better than to try and argue with you in this state, so instead he just pulls back the covers and runs a warm, wet rag along your inner thighs to clean up the sticky mess.

Despite his urgency to get back on the road soon, he manages to get side tracked while his hands are already between your legs. And within minutes he has you writhing and moaning atop the mattress, now very much awake and wet for a completely different reason.

“I do believe you’ve finally found the best relief for menstrual pain,” you tell him breathlessly as you begin dressing yourself.

“Second best,” he corrects you with a grunt as he shoves the rest of your scattered things into your respective bags.

You lift a brow at him in confusion, tossing him his shirt you slept in to swap it out for one of your own. As comfortable as it is, wearing it the rest of the day would be as good as announcing to the rest of the company that you and Thorin were intimate the night before.

Thorin catches the shirt, his eyes locked on yours as he says: “you can’t bleed if your belly is already full with a child.”

Then he goes back to packing like he didn’t just drop a metaphorical boulder on your head, causing your core to clench in an entirely different way.

“What did you say?” your voice comes out as a squeak as you clutch your shirt to your bare chest.

He rises to his feet, towering over you as he takes a step closer, his scent overpowering your lungs as a chill runs down your spine.

“You heard me,” his voice rumbles low in his chest. “And I would if you asked.”

“What?” you blink up at him, your mind too cloudy to think straight.

“If you asked me,” he brings a hand to your bare arm, tracing his fingers across your skin, “I would give you a child. My child. I’d fill you with my seed until I was sure it took, so you’d never bleed again.”

Your mouth opens and closes a few times. You can’t think, let alone form a coherent sentence at his implication. But before you can settle on anything to say, a knock comes from the door.

Neither of you move, maintaining unblinking eye contact, until the knocking gets more persistent.

Thorin finally breaks away from you, suppressing a knowing smirk at your shocked expression. Finally snapping out of your daze as he moves towards the door, you quickly pull on your shirt as he undoes the lock.

“What is it?” he grunts, pulling the door open just enough that you can see Kili standing in the hallway with his hands covering his eyes.

“Are you both decent?” he asks and Thorin rolls his eyes.

“If we say no will you leave?” you finish pulling the rest of your clothes on as Kili hazards a peek through his fingers. Seeing you both fully clothed and on opposite sides of the room he lets out an exaggerated sigh of relief.

“The rest of the company is ready,” he informs the two of you and Thorin grunts in understanding before looking over his shoulder at you. With a nod you grab your pack, tossing Thorin’s to him as well. “We’re ready.” You push past the two of them, heading for the stairs to rejoin the others.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You remain silent for most of the day's journey. Thorin’s words continue bouncing around in your mind.

Did he really mean what he said? Or was he just joking? You can’t tell which you want to be true. Heat rushes to your cheeks at the image of him dripping down your thighs, only for him to scoop his seed back inside you, so as to not waste a single drop.

But then the more logical side of you kicks in, and you think about what comes after. You, pregnant with Thorin’s child. His heir. If the two of you were anyone else it wouldn’t seem so crazy. But that’s not the case.

He’s a king, marching to reclaim his kingdom.

And you’re… you. You might come from a good family but you’re still only half a dwarf. As soon as your quest is complete you’ll be setting out on the road again. Once your family is laid to rest there will be nothing left keeping you in Erebor. It will no longer be your home and you will be destined to continue wandering Middle Earth for as long as there is still breath in your lungs.

Besides, even if Thorin suffered from a bout of temporary insanity and asked you to stay there would be no point. He’s not your childhood friend anymore. That dwarven prince was lost to you long ago. He has a duty to fulfill, and you have…well whatever you want.

And what you want is definitely not to be a king’s whore. You refuse to be the plaything he keeps poorly hidden in the shadows of the mountain.

You are too uncivilized to be his queen, and too prideful to be his mistress so this thing between you will only end as badly as it did the last time you parted ways.

The rest of the company must sense your inner turmoil today because none of them bother you once you continue back on the main road. Either that or Thorin already warned them about the return of your monthly visitor. The Dwarves take turns silently handing you snacks when you start to feel irritable. And when you stop to make camp for the night, Oin boils some raspberry leaves he picked to brew into a tea for you to sip by the fire.

The others are in much better spirits after a good night’s rest. As you wrap yourself in a blanket, clutching your tea at the edge of the fire’s glow, the others talk and laugh jovially. Even Thorin joins in, swapping stories with your kin. He’s in a much better mood than you’ve seen him in since… well ever. His scowl has been replaced with hearty laughter and a grin that lights up his face. Every so often he glances over at you as if he needs to keep assuring himself that you’re still close by.

You give him a small smile of reassurance but still can’t bring yourself to join the rest of the group. The tea Oin brewed has helped ease your cramps, and the rest of the company has already ensured that you’ve more than eaten your fill for the evening. But it’s not pain or fatigue that keeps you from joining in.

As the fire illuminates him before you, an ache builds in your chest. An ache so strong you can’t suppress it any longer. Just because you know how this journey has to end, it doesn’t stop you from wishing things could go differently. It only makes it that much more painful when you realize Thorin is starting to look at you the same way he did before the dragon came. Like nothing in all of Middle Earth could separate the two of you.

Taglist:

@mrsdurin @thetaekwondofeline @enchantingkryptoniteheart-blog

@exhausted-humxn-being @marsmallow433 @sverdgeir

@champagne-glamour@yve-barr @krampus236 @nerdthickly

@lyl1pad @bruhk @eri-s-big-sis

@quiall321 @genderless-ghosty-boi @zenrobbins0021 @mamajaxx2511 @daryldixons-wife @a-goblin-named-cherry

[eclipixels]

pls cure my depression and write me that one scene in 27 Dresses where the actress was trying on all the dresses and the guy she’s with is taking pics of her on it. THAT WITH SAE AND READER

27 Dresses

Sae Itoshi x Reader

Content: You’ve been a bridesmaid 27 times, never the bride, and somehow that’s become interesting enough for a feature article. But when the journalist friend who was supposed to interview you bails, they send Sae Itoshi.

[1,826 words]

      The knock on your apartment door comes right on time, sharp and polite, but when you swing it open expecting a bespectacled journalist with a clipboard, your mouth actually falls open a little.

      Standing there, looking like he just walked off a magazine cover (and you’d know, because he has), is Sae Itoshi.

      Yes, that Sae Itoshi. Japan’s most infamous soccer prodigy. Deadpan expression. Perfect hair. Notorious for dodging interviews, not conducting them.

      He stares at you like you’re the weird one here.

      “Y/n L/n?” he asks, voice smooth but flat.

      “Uh. Yes?”

      He holds up a recorder and a crumpled paper. “I'm here for the interview.”

      There’s a beat of silence as you process. “The article? About... me being a bridesmaid?”

      He nods once. “Didn’t F/n tell you?”

      You blink. “They mentioned not being able to make it but I didn’t think they’d send a world-famous soccer player in their place instead.”

      He shrugs like it’s not weird at all. “I was free today.”

      You step aside to let him in, trying not to gawk. He's wearing a dark hoodie, jeans, and sneakers that probably cost more than your monthly rent. He walks into your apartment like he doesn’t care about the shrine of pastel bridesmaid dresses hanging on your wall, but you catch his eyes flicking over them.

      He doesn’t comment. Instead, he plops down on your couch and pulls out his phone.

      “Alright,” he says, glancing at the notes app on his screen. “You’ve been a bridesmaid 27 times. Why?”

      You raise an eyebrow, sitting opposite him. “Do you mean why haven’t I gotten married, or why do people keep asking me to do it?”

      He blinks slowly. “Both?”

      You sigh, a little amused despite yourself. “Because I’m nice, and I’m organized. I know how to wrangle a drunk aunt at a rehearsal dinner and sew a ripped hem in five minutes. I’m bridesmaid material, apparently.”

      He nods. “You like it?”

      You think about it. “I love parts of it. The dress fittings, the chaos, the dancing, seeing people in love. But yeah, sometimes it stings. Feels like I’m always part of someone else’s fairytale.”

      He looks at you for a long moment, unreadable. “You ever thought about saying no?”

      You chuckle. “What kind of monster says no to their best friend’s big day?”

      Sae tilts his head. “Someone who wants their own big day, maybe.”

      You’re stunned for a second, caught off guard by the quiet weight in his voice.

      “You always this deep when doing interviews?” you ask, trying to shift the mood.

      “I don’t usually do interviews,” he replies simply. “So… no.”

      You go through more of the questions, but the recorder stays off most of the time. You talk about weddings, about pressure, about why people don’t see the girl in the bridesmaid dress. And somewhere in the middle of it all.

      “F/n wanted me to ask you about the dresses,” Sae sighed, glancing at the neatly organized checklist in his notes app like it personally offended him.

      You turned from where you were scrolling on your phone. “Oh my god,” you said, laughing as you got up. “They're making you ask? That’s hilarious.”

      Sae looked tired already. “I’m not doing this for fun.”

      “Mhm, whatever you say,” you teased, disappearing into your closet.

      You slid open the door with a dramatic flair, revealing the rainbow nightmare inside. Tulle. Lace. Ribbons. A suspicious amount of mint green.

      His brows twitched ever so slightly. “...Why do you have so many?”

      “Because,” you said, already rifling through the hangers, “I am a loyal, dependable friend. And for another reason.”

      “What’s the other reason?” he asked, eyes narrowing slightly with curiosity.

      You turned to look at him, a small smile tugging at your lips. “That part’s a secret.”

      The real reason? You were saving them for all your friends to wear on your wedding day. All twenty-seven of them.

      You tossed a rainbow monstrosity onto your bed. “Here we go.”

      He crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe like this was a hostage situation. “You don’t have to try them on. I can just write ‘Yes, she still owns them’ and lie.”

      “You ready?” You called out.

      Sae didn’t look up. “No.”

      You stepped out anyway.

      His eyes flicked up. Paused. Brows raised a fraction of a millimeter—an Itoshi Sae equivalent of slack-jawed shock.

      “This one’s… very yellow,” you said, spinning awkwardly. “Like a lemon drop. Or a highlighter with confidence issues.”

      “You look like a cupcake,” he said, flatly.

      You grinned. “A delicious cupcake?”

      He didn’t respond.

      You turned back to the mirror, posing dramatically. “I wore this to Emi’s wedding. It was a beach wedding and she wanted us to ‘match the sun.’”

      “That’s dumb.”

      “She got divorced after three months, so, you’re not wrong.”

      You disappeared behind the curtain again. Sae leaned back in his seat and glanced down at his phone, only to lift it and casually snap a photo before you vanished. You didn’t notice.

      The next dress was mint green and satin. You walked out, half-tripping on the hem.

      “Okay, I call this one the seafoam regret.”

      Sae sighed. Lifted his phone. Another picture. You paused mid-spin.

      “Wait—are you taking pictures of me?”

      He didn’t even try to deny it. “I’m documenting. F/n said to take pictures.”

      You laughed, a bright, unfiltered sound that actually made him look up from his screen. You sounded so… beautiful?

      “Okay, you’re gonna love the next one,” you said, disappearing again.

      Sae didn’t say anything, but his gaze lingered on the curtain longer this time.

      You emerged in a fire-engine red mermaid dress with tulle flaring at your calves and rhinestones on the straps. You struck a pose with jazz hands.

      “I was a bridesmaid and a flamenco dancer in this one.”

      Sae’s lips twitched. Twitched.

      “That’s not how flamenco works,” he said, voice drier than the Sahara.

      “And how would you know that, Mr. Itoshi?” You raised a brow.

      “Probably because I lived in Spain for my entire adolescence?”

      “Oh. Right.” You coughed awkwardly, feeling embarrassed, your face an obvious shade of pink.

      He raised his phone. Snap.

      “Blackmail material,” he said.

      “I’m honored,” you said, dramatically bowing.

      By the time you're in dress number fourteen—a strapless emerald number with an asymmetrical ruffle you’re still convinced looks like a lettuce leaf—Sae’s leaning forward on the couch, elbows on his knees, watching you with a softness in his eyes that wasn’t there before.

      “You know,” he says, “I thought this would be boring.”

      You raise an eyebrow, placing your hands dramatically on your hips. “You thought I’d be boring, or the whole ‘bridesmaid of the year’ thing?”

      “Both,” he admits. “But it’s not. You’re not.”

      You blink. Sae Itoshi, not exactly known for compliments, just complimented you. You try to hide how your stomach flips.

      “Well, I am wearing lettuce,” you say, grinning. “Hard not to be riveting in produce-inspired fashion.”

      He huffs a laugh, running a hand through his hair. “No. I mean... you’re funny. And weirdly good at this.”

      “This being…?”

      He gestures vaguely. “Weddings. People. The whole making-it-look-easy thing.”

      You tilt your head, watching him. “You know, you're kind of nice when you’re not brooding.”

      “I’m always brooding.”

      “But now you’re brooding with charm.”

      He rolls his eyes, but his ears go a little pink. You file that away for later.

      As you slip behind the screen to change again, you hear him sigh—not in annoyance, but something softer. Like he’s trying to figure something out.

      And Sae, who usually only thinks in strategies and goalposts, suddenly finds his mind replaying the way you twirled in the lavender dress, laughing without worrying if anyone was watching.

      He’s not sure when it happened, but something’s shifting. He came here as a favor to his friend for a filler article. Now, watching you emerge in yet another ridiculous dress and flash him that bright, unbothered smile, he realizes he doesn’t want it to end.

      Dress after dress, you kept emerging, each one more ridiculous than the last, and he kept taking pictures, deadpan expressions hiding how amused he really was. Until the last one.

      The final dress was a simple, elegant, dusty pink gown. No frills, no glitter. You stepped out quietly, smoothing the fabric.

      “This one was for my sister’s wedding,” you said, softer. “The only one that didn’t make me feel like a party city costume.”

      Sae stared at you. Not a word. Just… looked.

      You shifted awkwardly under his gaze. “What? Is there something on my face?”

      “No,” he said. Click. Another photo.

      You blinked. “You’re gonna run out of storage.”

      He didn’t respond. Just tucked his phone away and stood.

      And then, very casually, he said, “You look good in that one.”

      You froze.

      “…What?”

      “I said you look good.”

      You weren’t expecting much of a reaction, but the look on his face makes your breath catch. He’s staring at you.No, looking at you, like he’s never seen anything quite like it before.

      Your breath hitches. You don’t know why, but the way he says it like it’s just an undeniable fact makes your heart do something strange.

      Sae stands up, walking toward you slowly. He doesn’t sit back down on the couch. Instead, he steps closer, and closer still, until there’s barely any space between you.

      Sae’s gaze flicks to your lips, just for a heartbeat, and then back to your eyes. His hand, almost instinctively, moves toward your cheek, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear in the gentlest of gestures. It’s a gesture so simple, yet so intimate, that it takes you off guard. You breathe in sharply, barely aware of the way your body leans into his touch. His thumb gently traces your cheek, as though memorizing the feel of you.

      “Do you have any more dresses, or is this the last one?” He murmurs.

      “This is the last one. Dress twenty-seven”

      Sae nods slowly, his gaze never leaving yours. The air feels thick, heavy with unspoken words, and your heart is racing in your chest. There's a warmth radiating from him, something comfortable, yet electrifying. He pauses for a moment, his thumb still grazing the soft skin of your cheek, his eyes searching yours as if considering something deeply.

      "Well," he says softly, his voice a little quieter now, almost unsure. "I should probably get going... but if you ever feel like dressing up again... or, you know, just hanging out sometime, let me know."

      The words hang in the air, and it's only when he steps back and turns toward the door that you feel your breath catch in your throat.

      You stand frozen for a moment after he leaves, still feeling the warmth of his touch lingering on your skin. It’s only when you finally breathe again that it hits you. Oh my god. He just asked you out, didn’t he?

[nightplvmes]

*.⊹˚ ZAYNE | take a break

── ◜zayne x fem!reader — mini one shot 0.8k words ◜Zayne tries to get his girlfriend to take a break — author's note ★ masterlist here

There was a joke she constantly made and it was about how Zayne should stop working so much and take a break. It was ironic how things had changed now, she was the one who needed to take a break.

Zayne had his eyes fixed on his girlfriend who was pacing back and forth. He wasn't entirely sure if her hands were trembling because she was moving so fast but it wouldn't have surprised him. She had been drinking gallons of coffee all morning.

"Where are the papers? I'm sure I left them here." She grimaced and started walking to the kitchen. "I came to the kitchen later to make some coffee." She turned to walk back out of the kitchen and head to the small table where her laptop and hundreds of papers sat, but Zayne stood in front of her.

She bumped into her boyfriend's chest and looked up at him. She stepped aside to avoid him but Zayne blocked her path again. His cold hands wrapped around hers and brought them to his lips, feeling that she was indeed trembling.

"You need to rest, love." Zayne's lips pressed against the knuckles of one of her hands. She could see him trying to act too calm.

"I need to work." She shook her head and took a step back to try and get away from him, but Zayne's grip tightened, preventing her from retreating any further.

"Come here," Zayne's voice was soft, not wanting to stress her out any further. He guided her over to the couch, she was still too stunned to protest so she simply took a seat next to him. "You've been working too much."

"You can't blame me for that. You're a workaholic." She looked at him with a slight frown. It was true, maybe he wasn't the best example, but he had never entered an operating room without sleeping or with his hands shaking, or he would have been fired already.

"You need to rest. You can work later, I'll help you find the papers myself." Zayne leaned down to press his lips against his girlfriend's forehead, for some reason he had made her calmer.

She sighed and nodded. She wondered if Zayne was capable of tying her to the bed and forcing her to rest. She couldn't help but laugh at the thought.

Five minutes later she had her hands wrapped around a hot cup of tea 100% made by her boyfriend. His arms were around her in an attempt to make her feel comforted… or maybe he was just trying to keep me from running away and work again.

"I have a lot of things to do… my boss asked me for those papers and I…" Zayne's voice interrupted her.

"That's enough. You need to rest."

"But my job…"

Zayne sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. His gaze was hard, it was what she called 'his doctor look', the same one he used when she went to her monthly checkups and Zayne talked to her about her results. "You can find another job if necessary."

He took the cup from her hands and set it on the small table in front of them. He would give her a job himself if necessary. He understood the feeling of wanting to do everything perfectly, but his girlfriend's boss was taking her to an extreme that he would not tolerate.

"Did you know that you can get seriously ill from stress and not getting enough rest?" She rolled her eyes. Was he saying this as a doctor or as a boyfriend?

"I'll be fine." She sighed. She didn't resist when Zayne wrapped his arms around her and forced her to lie on his chest, it was like a warm pillow that she loved to sleep on.

"Get some sleep," he murmured, the scent of her hair hitting his nose.

"What if my boss calls and gets mad?"

"I'll take care of that."

She felt the weeks of sleeplessness take their toll on her the second she lay down on his chest. Maybe it was the tea or maybe she just needed a break.

It didn't take long for her to fall asleep, she needed it so much and she would make sure to thank Zayne when she woke up for caring so much about her.

Zayne didn't mind staying in the same position for almost two hours while she was sleeping. He knew he could pick her up and carry her to the bedroom but he liked being able to have her close and be able to keep an eye on her.

He still didn't know what he would do when she woke up but he knew he wouldn't let her go back to that horrible job, no matter if he had to pay her bills himself.