#me: i’ll just write a little bit of this thought

[lizziesangel]

hi lizzie, i just love your writing!! thank you for keeping us well fed! if you haven’t already, could you possibly write soft!rafe taking care of drunk reader? maybe it’s early into their relationship & this is the first time she’s seeing a softer side of him & maybe she’s a little embarrassed having to be taken care of but also secretly loves it!! 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

she/her, mid 20’s, maybe not rafe’s typical skinny blonde model type 🧎‍♀️

thank you, sweet angel! i hope you enjoy your fic!✨

the night had started out innocently enough. kie’s birthday party was in full swing, her backyard strung with twinkling fairy lights and filled with the sounds of music, laughter, and the clinking of glasses. you weren’t much of a drinker, but tonight felt like an exception. kie had insisted you try her signature cocktail—something fruity and deceptively strong—and from there, the drinks had kept coming.

you’d been having a great time—kie and her friends always threw the best parties, and tonight was no exception. you’d been having a great time—a little too great of a time.

by midnight, you were feeling… light. maybe a little too light. your cheeks felt hot, your laugh was louder than usual, and walking in a straight line felt like a fun challenge. it wasn’t until the party started winding down that you realized you might have overdone it.

you leaned against the kitchen counter, your phone in hand, squinting at the screen. it was late, but you figured your parents wouldn’t mind a quick call to pick you up. the idea of stumbling into an uber with a stranger was less appealing now that the alcohol was hitting way harder than you anticipated. you dialed their number, listening to the rings, only to be met with a voicemail.

you frowned, dialing once more. still no answer.

then a text pinged through: "at a business party tonight. won’t be able to answer—call us tomorrow. we love you!"

you sighed, your thumb hovering over the screen. the party was getting just a bit too chaotic for your liking now, and the thought of getting some fresh air sounded amazing. it wasn’t like you lived far, anyway. ten minutes tops, you thought to yourself, tugging your jacket tighter around your shoulders.

“leaving already?” kiara asked, catching you by the door. her smile was bright.

“yeah, just tired,” you said, waving it off with a lopsided grin. “i’ll be fine. it’s a quick walk.”

she nodded, “text me when you’re home, okay?”

you nodded, giving her a thumbs-up before slipping out into the cool night air.

the silence outside was a welcome contrast to the noise you’d left behind. the streets were dimly lit, but familiar. you shoved your hands in your pockets and started down the sidewalk, humming softly to yourself, the buzz of the alcohol making everything seem a little less real.

the soft rumble of an engine broke the quiet night, the glow of headlights sweeping over the sidewalk as a familiar black SUV slowed down beside you. you glanced up, squinting against the light, and your heart skipped when the window rolled down to reveal rafe leaning slightly toward the passenger side.

“what the hell are you doing out here?” his voice was sharp, cutting through the stillness of the street. his brows were furrowed, a mix of confusion and something else—concern? “i thought your parents were coming to get you.”

you stopped, suddenly hyperaware of your slightly unsteady stance on the pavement. “they couldn’t,” you slurred, waving your hand dismissively. “they’re at some work thing. it’s just a ten-minute wa—i’ll be... fine.”

his jaw tightened, the muscle there twitching. “fine? you’re drunk, walking home by yourself in the middle of the night. do you even hear yourself right now?”

you opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, rafe leaned across and pushed the passenger door open. “get in. now.”

there was no arguing with the tone of his voice, not that you were in much of a position to resist. you hesitated for half a second before climbing into the seat, the leather cool against your legs. he waited until you were buckled in before pulling away from the curb, the tension in the car palpable.

the silence stretched for a moment before he spoke again, his voice low but firm. “next time, call me. don’t ever do that again. don’t walk home alone when you’ve been drinking.”

you blinked at him, your head still spinning a little from the alcohol. “rafe, it’s the outer banks, have you seen this island? t-there’s, like... no crime here. ever.”

he glanced at you, his lips pressing into a tight line. “i don’t care. what if something happened to you? what if you tripped, or someone—” he cut himself off, shaking his head as if the thought itself was unbearable. “just call me, okay? no excuses. i don’t care what time it is or where you are. i’ll come get you.”

something in his tone made your chest tighten, the weight of his words sinking in. he wasn’t just scolding you—he meant it.

“okay,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“good.” he glanced at you again, his features softening just a fraction. “because i don’t want to find you wandering around in the dark again. got it?”

“got it,” you murmured, biting back a smile as you sank into the seat.

the air in the car was thick with unspoken words, the quiet punctuated only by the soft hum of the engine and the occasional sound of rafe’s fingers tapping against the steering wheel. normally, rafe exuded this effortless, untouchable cool—sarcastic remarks, teasing smirks, and that air of confidence he wore like a second skin.

but tonight, something was different.

he wasn’t making jokes. he wasn’t brushing anything off. he looked serious, his jaw tight and his gaze focused on the road ahead as his hands gripped the wheel a little harder than necessary.

you stole a glance at him from the corner of your eye, your head leaning against the window. even with your buzzed haze, you could tell this wasn’t the rafe you were used to. this was… softer. more vulnerable, maybe.

when you noticed he wasn’t driving toward your place, your brow furrowed. “i don’t think this is the way to my house.”

“i know, baby,” he replied, his tone leaving no room for argument. “you’re not sleeping alone tonight. it’s not safe. you’re coming to mine.”

your mouth opened, but no sound came out. you hadn’t expected that. “rafe, i’m fine—”

“don’t,” he cut you off, glancing at you with a raised brow. “don’t argue. you’ve had too much to drink, you’re not thinking straight, and i’m not dropping you off so you’re home by yourself.”

“end of story.”

you stared at him, the weight of his words settling in your chest. he didn’t sound annoyed or inconvenienced. he sounded… protective. like he cared more than you ever thought he would. it was such a stark contrast to the laid-back rafe you’d come to know that it left you momentarily speechless.

as he turned into the long driveway leading to his family’s sprawling house, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

“come on,” he said gently, holding out a hand to help you. “let’s get you inside.”

he led you upstairs with quiet confidence, his hand hovering near your back as if ready to steady you at any moment. the house was quiet, the distant hum of the air conditioning the only sound apart from your slightly uneven steps. when you entered his room, you hesitated, looking around the surprisingly clean space.

“sit,” he said gently, motioning to the edge of his bed. you obeyed, sinking into the soft comforter, and watched as he disappeared into the bathroom.

he came back a moment later with a cotton pad, a bottle of makeup remover, and a damp washcloth. “sarah leaves her stuff everywhere,” he said with a faint smirk, kneeling in front of you. “you can use this to take your makeup off. trust me, you don’t want to sleep in it.”

you blinked at him, surprised. “you… know about makeup remover?”

rafe gave a small shrug. “sarah’s made me her go-to errand boy enough times. i pick up things.” his voice was casual, but the way he handed you the cotton pad was almost… delicate, making you smile.

you swiped the pad across your face, your movements slow but steady, while rafe stayed there, crouched in front of you like he was waiting to catch you if you suddenly tipped over. when you were done, he handed you a glass of water and a toothbrush, his blue eyes meeting yours with quiet insistence. “drink all of this, and brush your teeth. trust me, you’ll thank me tomorrow.”

after finishing in the bathroom, you came back to find a neatly folded T-shirt and sweatpants sitting on the bed.

“you can change into these,” he said, standing a little awkwardly near the door. “they’ll be more comfortable than whatever you’re wearing.”

“thanks,” you said softly, picking up the clothes.

but when you tried to slip the his sweatpants on, your buzzed coordination made it nearly impossible. you fumbled, the fabric tangling around your legs as you tried to balance on one foot. “ugh,” you huffed in frustration.

rafe turned at the sound, his brows furrowing. “need help?”

you hesitated, your cheeks flushing. “uh, i think so,” you admitted quietly, feeling embarrassment creep up your spine.

he nodded, stepping closer, his expression careful and respectful. “okay,” he said simply, kneeling down. “just… hold on to my shoulder, and i’ll help you with these. don’t worry—i’m not looking.”

true to his word, he kept his eyes down, focusing only on pulling the sweatpants over your legs as you wobbled slightly, your hand gripping his shoulder for balance. his touch was steady and deliberate, not lingering even a second longer than necessary.

when he was done, he stood and stepped back, giving you space. “there,” he said, his voice softer now. “all set.”

“thanks,” you murmured, tugging at the hem of the shirt you were now wearing. it hung on you like a dress, the faint scent of cedar and something clean wrapping around you.

“you should lie down,” he said, pulling back the covers on his bed.

you blinked at him. “where are you sleeping?”

“i’ll, uh... take the couch,” he said automatically, but the words didn’t feel as confident as the rest of him.

“rafe,” you said, your voice a little steadier now. “this bed is huge. there’s plenty of space for both of us.”

his brows lifted slightly, and for a second, he looked like he might argue. but then he nodded, his jaw relaxing as he grabbed a pillow and placed it on the opposite side of the bed. “okay,” he said, his voice dropping to something quieter. “but don’t hog the covers.”

you laughed softly, slipping under the blanket as he did the same. The space between you felt safe—close enough to feel his warmth but far enough to respect boundaries.

as you settled in, you turned your head toward him. “hey?”

“yeah?” he replied, his voice low in the dark.

“thank you,” you whispered.

for a moment, he didn’t say anything. then his voice came, soft and genuine. “anytime.”

And with that, the quiet comfort of his presence lulled you to sleep, leaving you with the lingering thought that this side of rafe was something you could get used to.

CURRENT TAGLIST⋆⭒˚｡⋆ ⟢ MASTERLIST

@maybankslover ⟢ @diorstarkey ⟢ @user28388727 ⟢ @jznyy ⟢

[hyunsuloves]

can u write myung gi x reader ?? shy reader who rlly doesnt like confrontation & talking to ppl but thanos keeps following them around maybe ?? or u can do (idk if u write for him) but daeho x reader ?? maybe during the mingle game, theres too many ppl in the group so reader leaves & finds other ppl (despite daeho telling them not to) daeho doesnt know if theyre alive until they get back to the main room ??

even if u dont write these i hope u have an amazing day!! i saw ur myung gi x reader n thought it was so cute >.<

i don’t know which way to go.

synopsis … you make a sacrifice in the midst of the mingle that leaves you without knowing if your boyfriend is alive.

pairing … kang dae-ho x gn!reader ༝༚༝༚ featuring in-ho who’s friends with the reader!

warnings … the way this is written is a little unclear, sorry 😓

lovely notes … i hope you like it ml !! & i changed the plot a little bit

꩜ [ 1.2k words ]

you, jun-hee, and dae-ho stood on the leisurely rotating platform. gi-hun and jung-bae stood not too far away, looking around the room in the same wary manner. you were in the early parts of a game called mingle. 

it was described as a game where players had to group up and enter rooms following a predetermined number. if the players didn’t make it into the rooms in time, or if the room had fewer or more players than necessary, they’d be eliminated.

the most childish music ever played as you stood, hand gripping dae-ho’s arm in a way that would’ve been painful if not for the adrenaline running through both your veins. 

the platform stopped abruptly, and the lights turned off for a brief moment before they started flashing purple and pink. 

the first number that was called out was ten. you were in a group of six, and the entirety of them looked around frantically, needing to find the four people to complete your group. 

“how many are you?” gi-hun asked a woman, hyun-ju you believed her name was.

“four,” she responded quickly. 

“that makes us ten.” jung-bae added. 

you all darted toward room 44, the green door. you made it in with one second left, mere moments before the latch would’ve clicked and left all of you to die. 

you stood in a corner, gripping dae-ho’s once again with such intensity. you saw gi-hun peek out the rectangle-shaped slit in the door before the sounds of gunfire filled the room. you made the safe assumption that anyone who didn’t make it into the room in time was eliminated, which was being shot to death.

“hey.” dae-ho whispered in your ear. 

you glanced up to see your boyfriend looking down at you with an affectionate look in his eyes. something as small as basic eye contact with him calmed your entire body. you felt the tension leave your shoulders as you allowed yourself to take a deep breath.

it felt odd to find yourself relaxed in such a strenuous environment as the one you are in now, but maybe it was just the effect that your boyfriend had on you. 

“just stick with me, okay? i got you.”

“okay. thank you, dae-ho.”

each person stood in the room, taking a moment to catch their breath before going out to the death game you all knew you couldn’t avoid. it would be another number called, and you’d have to scramble to find a certain number of people once again.

the door unlocked with a click, and you found yourself standing next to dae-ho on the rotating platform once again. 

as the first round, the platform stopped, the lights turned off for a fleeting moment, and then they began flashing obnoxiously.

the next number that was called out was four, and you were in a group of six. you couldn’t risk any of your friends dying, so you quickly made a move to leave the group.

“i’ll go.” young-il spoke. 

“i’ll go with you,” you said without hesitation. you wanted dae-ho and jun-hee to survive more than anything, even if it meant putting your own life on the line. 

you made a move to leave before dae-ho gripped your forearm. “no, you can’t go. i can’t risk losing you.”

your eyes watered, causing your vision to blur, and you felt the burn in your nose. you didn’t want to lose your boyfriend either, but what else could you do? all you had to do was find two other people and you and young-il would be safe for another round. 

“i love you dae-ho, so, so much. but i have to go, and i have to go quick.” you gave him a fleeting kiss before grabbing young-il and running to the nearest participants you could find. 

you heard his screams of protest, but you had no choice but to leave. there was only twenty seconds on the clock, and you’d be damned if you let yourself die on the second round of this godforsaken game. 

you quickly found two people who stood and dragged them into the nearest room, with young-il close behind. 

you made it into the room with only two seconds left on the clock, and the latch clicked, as it did the first round. 

you stood in the constricted room for a drawn-out moment before the latch clicked again, and you all filed out of the room and onto the platform once again. 

the rest of the rounds felt like a blur. with screaming, rapidly moving bodies, and the near-blinding flashing lights, you were unable to locate dae-ho.

you deeply regretted leaving your group, and most importantly, your boyfriend. but you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if any one of your friends died because you tried to be so selfless.

you tried not to panic as your heart beat rapidly and your hands sweated tremendously. you felt a sudden, intense wave of fear as you stood on the platform with young-il for the last round. 

“have you seen dae-ho?” you looked up at the man beside you, a buoyant tone in your voice.

“i’m afraid i haven’t. but i’m sure he’s alright.” he comforted you, placing a heavy hand on your shoulder. 

you inhaled slowly through your nose, knowing that young-il was most likely right. your ex-marine of a boyfriend could survive grouping up and going into rooms, right?

the platform clunked, the lights turned off, and they flashed as before. the number was two, and it couldn’t be more perfect for you and young-il. he grabbed your arm, and the both of you ran to the first space you laid eyes on.

for the last time, the lock was unlatched and you were allowed to leave. you finished the third game, and you’d made it out alive.

you walked out among the crimson blood and lifeless bodies littered on the ground. you shuddered as you navigated your way through the room, and your body was wracked with tremors.

you walked next to young-il, making pace in getting back into the main room. your eyes scanned the room rapidly, looking for the man you left in the middle of the game.

suddenly, you felt warm arms tightening around your waist. your boyfriend found you before you could find him.

“i found you,” he whispered in your ear, voice husky. 

you instantly turned around, your hands finding purchase around his neck. you had been so worried about losing him, and it felt surreal to have him standing right in front of you. 

you felt like you would never see him again, like he’d die just because you decided to leave the group to avoid causing chaos between them. 

“hi. i was so scared i was gonna lose you.” his mouth was right next to yours, yet the proximity didn’t feel like nearly enough,

“never. i’m here. please don’t ever leave me like that again.”

“okay, dae-ho. i’ll stay with you. i promise.” you intended to keep your promise; you intended to never leave him again. 

you had finally found your boyfriend again, amid the death games. you were wrapped in your lover's embrace, and you never wanted to leave again.

[bombiikki]

hey there, sigma

non idol!hanni x barista!reader

sypnosis: hanni finds herself falling head over heels for the cute guy who works at a coffee shop. hanni makes her move, soon finding out that the guy she was interested in wasn’t a guy at all. 

contains: fluff, hanni being a brainrot enthusiast is real trust, that or she has been infected by brainrot hyein, messages right in the middle of writing cuz i rlly like texting segments in fanfics SUE ME, not proofread

a/n: first time wriitng and posting a ff!! kinda nervous! erm i would greatly appreciate feedback if anyone can give any at like any point in time ^^ enjoy ur stay guys! also i totally took some inspo from ‘the guy she was interested in wasn’t a guy at all’ so please moot me up if yk it 😓

“does anyone know a good place to get coffee? i fear i’ve been too sleep deprived lately, and i need a cup of coffee asap.” hanni sighed, walking to campus with her friends. 

danielle wore a smile that was as bright as ever, swinging her interlocked hands with haerin. "i don't know of any coffee places, sorry hanni." danielle said. "nah, it's ok dani. it doesn't seem like you would. you're always filled with so much energy," hanni chuckled.

minji, walking alongside hanni’s right, put her finger up and exclaimed “didn’t hyein say she started working at a coffee shop? maybe, you should try that place.”

“hyein works? like, a real job?” hanni snorted. “i’ll probably visit after lectures today, but i probably won’t see hyein. it'll be too early for her to have finished school yet,” hanni continued. “do you wanna come with me?”

minji put her hands behind her head, continuing to walk alongside hanni. “sorry hanni, might have to pass up on that offer. i got a big project coming up and i need to study in the library.” minji shrugged. “okay, nerd” hanni muttered, earning herslef a slap on the shoulder.

hanni walked out of the lecture hall, searching for directions to get to the coffee place minji mentioned. the shop was a bit of a distance away from the campus, hiding away in a small area of town.

“this coffee better be worth it,” hanni mumbled to herself.

hanni walked through the door – a bell ringing, signifying her entrance. it was a cozy space, not very crowded but not completely deserted. the shop screamed comfortable and safe. it smelled like freshly ground coffee, for very obvious reasons. a small tune played in the background – a silly little bossa nova tune.

a worker heard the bell ring from the entrance, and so peaked their head out from behind the counter. as hanni walked closer to the employee, the cuter she found them. since when did cute guys work at coffee shops? she thought to herself.

the guy at the counter rocked a shoulder-length, half-up, half-down hairdo, with many ear piercings and a gorgeous face card. to top it all off, he had glasses. this boy was very pretty, making hanni almost fall to her knees. hanni finally made it to the counter, face to face with the cute barista. hanni had to play her cards right if she didn’t want to embarrass herself in front of such a fine specimen.

“hey there, sigma. what’s a fine specimen like you doing here?” hanni stuttered out, immediately going red and mentally slapping herself. she ducked her head and broke eye contact in embarrassment. what was she doing? and fine specimen? what was she even saying?

the barista chuckled softly. “i mean, i’m not too sure. maybe, i’m just a random person who stole an apron and a job.“ he snorted. hanni still kept her head down, muttering curses against herself.

“so, miss sigma, what would you like today?” the barista asked. hanni cleared her throat, raising her head but avoiding eye contact at all cost. “i’ll just take a latte, if that’s okay.” hanni said quickly. the guy behind the counter gave a soft smile before giving hanni a total, recieving cash in return.

hanni quickly made her way to an empty table, still beet red. she did not want to tell any of her friends about this interaction, fearing that she will never hear the end of their teasing. hanni took out her phone, trying to find anything that could distract herself from that embarrassing interaction.

after a few quick minutes, hanni looked up to see the cute barista place a cup of coffee onto the table. he still had that stupidly soft smile that made hanni weak in the knees.

“enjoy your latte!” the barista said softly. all hanni could do was nod in response.

happy lil sigmas

minji so hanni how was the coffee shop hyein what coffee shop? hanni u went to a coffee shop??? hanni sighs i did indeed it was erm ur coffee shop too btw hyein WHAT?? AND U DIDNT BOTHER TO TEXT ME OR WAUT FOR MY SHIFT TO BEGUN?? hanni I DIDN’T KNOW WHEN U WOULD GET THERE 😭 minji so completely ignore my question some friend 🙄 hanni says the one who abandoned me to get coffee by myself js to study in the library minji JUST ANSWER THE QUESTION 💀 hanni it was erm nice! minji something happened for sure.. hyein who was working the shift when u got there? hanni it was like a cute guy he had like shoulder length hair half up half down ear piercings and glasses haerin did i hear hanni call a guy cute?? what did i miss who r u????? hanni WEHRED U COME FROM HELLO?? hyein cute guy you say? im pickign up whta ur putting down hehehe hanni i can hear u scheming from behind the screen whatever ur thinkign stop it pelase hyein what if i told u im VERY close with the barista ur talking abt i could  help u make a move perchance haerin u cant just say perchance! hanni GET OUTTA HEREEE HAE haerin 😿 danielle don’t say that about haerin!!  that’s very rude of you hanni 😡 hanni so does everyone js like appering outta nowhere and attack me?? minji yes hyein wait hanni r u gonna go back to the coffee shop hanni well yes! not when ur gonna be there tho i fear i can basically hear ur shemeing scream thru the screen the coffee is nice haerin is the coffee the only reason you’re going back? hanni ok whatever now im cursing everyone here

hanni walked through the coffee shop doors once more. she had finished another day of lectures and was so down for a cup of coffee. as she made her way to the counter, a familiar face was standing behind the cash register.

“so, miss sigma comes back for another latte?” the barista from yesterday chuckles, hanni going slightly pink in the cheeks. “could we, potentially, forget about the whole sigma thing. it’s embarrassing,” hanni chuckled awkwardly. “i think it was cute, but if it makes you uncomfortable then sure!” the barista smiled softly. 

hanni could feel her eyes dilate, sharing a soft smile with the cute barista. “not uncomfortable, it’s just a little too embarrassing to think about again,” hanni chuckled. the barista hummed in response as hanni ordered the latte from yesterday. she then went and sat down on the same table from the day previously too.

hanni received her latte, accompanied with that same soft smile. she took the time to look at admire the latte art – a cute little bunny. 

“enjoy your latte!” the cute barista said softly.

hanni went to the coffee shop everyday of the week. and now, the weekend had hit. hanni had no plans to go out, yet she found herself walking out the door and towards the coffee shop.

the bell rang softly in hanni’s ears as she opened the entrance door to the shop. she looked over to the counter, surprising herself when she saw who stood behind it. it was hyein. hanni wouldn’t admit it to herself, but she was a little disappointed when she didn’t see her little coffee shop crush.

“hanni! it’s good to see you on such a lovely lil weekend!” hyein beamed. hanni smiled softly while rolling her eyes. “so, you work weekend shifts?” hanni questioned. hyein nodded enthusiastically. 

“you know, a little birdie told me you introduced yourself to the lil barista crush with a ‘hey there, sigma’.” hyein snorted, hanni going red and smacking hyein from across the counter. “i was trying to seem confident to avoid embarrassing myself.” hanni hissed. “uh huh, didn’t seem to work though.” hyein smirked.

hanni ordered her usual latte, paying for it and sitting in her usual spot. when hyein came over to deliver the latte, she sat herself down. “it’ll be fine, this place is slow enough for me to have a lil convo with a friend.”

hanni took a slow sip of her latte. “so,” she began, “your really pretty coworker. is there any way you could, potentially, hit me up with him?” hanni took another long, slow sip of her latte. she could see the mischievous glint in hyein’s eyes. “oh, you mean that one?” hyein said, tilting her head and pointing towards a figure emerging from behind the counter. it was the barista crush.

“yeah, i’ll see what i can do.” hyein smirked. hanni didn’t know whether to be excited or scared.

the bell rang softly through the shop as someone walked in. hyein looked at the clock of the shop and got up from her seat. “the job’s calling for me now. i gotta make money somehow.” hyein shrugged. 

hanni waved at hyein, looking towards the counter once more. the cute barista was taking the order of the person who came in, taking cash and giving the customer their change. then, the barista made eye contact with hanni and smiled softly. hanni felt her cheeks heat up a little before smiling back at the guy behind the counter. 

hanni went back to the coffee shop the next day, under the guidance of hyein. when she arrived, she saw hyein at the counter once more.

“i’m gonna be busy today, but your little crush will be at the counter the entire time i’m gone. when you get the chance, make your move. trust me, it’ll be fine.” hyein whispered from across the counter. 

hanni raised her eyebrow and chuckled at hyein’s little antic but didn’t question it. she ordered her latte to go this time, watching as the barista came from the back and swap places with hyein.

hanni waited by the side of the counter, watching her barista crush make her latte gracefully and slide it gently to hanni. “enjoy your coffee!” he said softly, with his signature soft smile.

the barista went to turn around and redo his little ponytail, until hanni used her voice.

“um, could i ask you something?” hanni asked softly. the barista made eye contact with hanni and smiled, hair tie on his wrist and his hand still holding onto his little ponytail. “anything,” he replied.

hanni cleared her throat and mustered up all her courage. she closed her eyes, and when she opened them again she wore a playful smirk.

“so, pretty boy, do you have a name or should i just call you mine?” hanni said smoothly, trying to keep up her charismatic act. she watched the barista in front of her go pink in the cheeks a bit, but he looked a bit confused and tilted his head. he let go of his ponytail and let them fall to his sides.

“pretty boy? hate to break it to you but, erm, i’m a girl.” the cute girl chuckled awkwardly, still wearing that stupidly cute, soft smile. her hair fell above her shoulders.

hanni’s eyes widened a bit, her jaw dropping. how did she get it so wrong? hanni’s cheeks began to heat up as she avoided eye contact with the barista standing across the counter. this felt like the sigma thing all over again, only 10 times worse.

“that stupid hyein. always pulling her little pranks.” the girl in front of her snorted. “i get perceived as a really pretty guy a lot, but i swear hyein told you. that damned girl is always causing trouble.” she chuckled.

hanni slowly made eye contact with the cute barista again, almost melting at the sight of her smile. hanni was so downbad. “i, um, look i’m so so sorry.” hanni began, scratching the back of her neck.

the barista only smiled wider, and nodded softly. “it’s not your fault. hyein was always the more mischievous cousin.” she replied softly. hanni felt her world shake. “cousin!?” she exclaimed. 

the barista sucked in air through her teeth and shook her head slowly. “i’m going to give her a piece of my mind, excuse me. when you leave, maybe check the inside of your latte and the side of the cup.” she winked before going to the back.

hanni walked out of the coffee shop, hearing some bickering from the back room. hanni opened the lid of her to go cup, looking at the latte art. it was a heart. hanni couldn’t stop herself from smiling widely before checking the side of her cup. there was writing with a phone number below.

‘hey there, sigma! text me xo’

[sukunatoes]

Cardio

Personal trainer!Sukuna x Fem Reader

WC: 1.9k

Content: MDNI. Smut. Vaginal Sex. Oral Sex (Fem Receiving). Fingering. Age Gap (Sukuna mid 40s, reader mid 20s). All Porn, No Plot. Modern AU.

A/N: Hi! I’m trying to get back into writing and attempting to learn to write in second person. This is my first time writing an x reader fic so i apologize for any errors. It’s a short one-shot that’s basically all smut and just me trying my hand at something new. I may write a follow up to this fic if anyone enjoys it but mainly wanted to put it out there is all :)

Sweat beads pool on your forehead, and your breath grows ragged as you raise yourself back up following your final set of squats. A pair of large hands reach over, grabbing the weights out of yours and lift them away with ease.

“Not bad for a rookie,” a deep voice rumbles just inches from your ear, sending a chill down your spine. “You’re getting better.”

Ryomen Sukuna. A local boxer who’s apparently famous in the underground scene. You had never seen him fight or even knew much about the sport for that matter, but from what you’ve heard, the man was an unstoppable force.

A couple of months prior, you had been complaining to your friend Megumi about wanting to find a personal trainer to help you ease back into fitness, but every option you explored was beyond what you could afford. His father had overheard the conversation and suggested one of his friends who did training on the side for some extra cash. Said he usually worked with up-and-coming fighters, so someone like you would be easy work for him.

Sure enough, whenever you had first texted Sukuna, he thought it was a joke. It’s not that he wouldn’t be able to train you, but he was confused why you’d even come to someone like him for help. He agreed and invited you over to his home gym, and ever since, you’ve met with him multiple times a week to train. It was an unusual situation for him, but you assumed he chalked it up to easy money.

“It’s because I have a good teacher,” you smile up at him.

He rolls his eyes before placing a hand on your lower back to scoot you out of his way, letting it linger for just a second too long. “Whatever, brat.”

Heat immediately pools in your lower abdomen, and your mouth grows dry. He always does this. Touches that last a little too long or drift a little too close to places his hands shouldn’t be. Occasionally throwing out questionable comments. It’s not that you didn’t want it; you wanted him so bad it made you ache. Watching the way he towered over you, his broad, tattooed shoulders glistening with sweat as he instructed your every move. You yearned for his touch so desperately. However, he never went beyond those little touches or quips, but God, you wish he finally would.

“However, your squats still aren’t deep enough,” Sukuna remarked as he turned back to face you. He leaned down just a bit, his signature smirk plastered across his face. “You need to spread your legs wider.”

His eyes carried a look in them, almost like he was daring you to be the one to blur the lines between what was appropriate or not. You had wanted to for a while now, but the bravery needed had not yet taken root.

“I’ll be sure to spread them wider for you next time.”

You instantly cringe at the words you let slip. Heat rises to your cheeks as you immediately divert your eyes to the floor.

“Oh?”

“I— I meant I’ll make sure my squats are deeper next time,” you stammer as you back up. You lean down, quickly snatching up your keys and water bottle from where they rested on the floor.

“Come on, don’t get all shy on me now.” He trails behind you, veering off towards the wall. His hand hovers over the panel to open the garage doors for you as his mouth starts twisting into a wide grin. “If you want something, all you have to do is ask.”

“I—“ The words you want to say die on your tongue before you can even utter them.

He stares expectantly in return, waiting for you to finish. Foot tapping against the ground for a moment before releasing an impatient sigh and brushing his fingers against the button that would allow your exit.

“Wait,” you step towards him and gently tug the wrist that hangs at his side. His eyebrow arches up. You definitely had his attention now. “Well— I was wondering if maybe you would want— ”

Without warning, his hands are on your waist and pulling you in. You collide with his chest, and before you can even think, his fingers are forcing your chin up. His lips slam into yours. There’s nothing gentle about the way he’s kissing you. It’s hungry and desperate. He wants you just as bad as you want him. His tongue eagerly slides into your mouth and massages against yours. You can feel yourself melting under his touch as you snake your arms around his neck. Sukuna grips underneath your ass and lifts you from the ground, your legs locking around him. The kiss never breaking as he carries you and sets you down on the ledge of a bench.

He pulls back, his lips slippery with your salvia, and sinks to his knees in front of you. His fingers greedily slip into the waistband of your shorts, sliding them down your legs in one smooth movement as he traces his tongue along his top lip. Tossing them somewhere behind him, he leans in and pulls your legs over his shoulders. A thumb presses against the damp patch on the cloth covering your cunt. The smallest whimper falls from your lips at the sudden pressure.

“Is this what you wanted?”

You can’t muster up much more than a weak nod as he begins to diligently stroke your clit through the cotton.

“Use your words, brat,” he commands, retracting his hand away from the wet mess between your legs.

You look down at him, bottom lip slightly protruding at the loss of contact. “Yes, Sukuna. Please.”

That was all he needed. He sinks his face between your thighs, tongue lapping at your clit through the thong. Sukuna deeply inhales as if he’s breathing you in, only to follow it with a guttural groan. A finger slips underneath the fabric and inside you. It curls, immediately finding that sweet spot, and rips a breathy moan from your throat. His lapping turns to sucking and the fabric quickly becomes soaked all the way through.

Your hands begin to explore his blush colored hair, intertwining with the strands. You gently tug on them before arching your back. Your hips buck in response to the stimulus, aching for him to give you more.

He grunts in response before briefly pulling back. Using his free hand, he yanks at your underwear in one strong motion causing them to rip. Before you can even protest, the remnants are hitting the floor and his tongue finds its way to your bare clit. A second finger joins the first inside of you, now picking up a faster pace.

“Oh my god,” your mumbles are incoherent as you yank on his hair harder.

He releases his tongue from your clit, fingers still going at a steady pace inside of you. “Ryomen is just fine. Sukuna if you don’t want to get too personal.”

You looked down at him to be met with that shit eating grin of his. A thick string of salvia trailing between his bottom lip and your clit.

Arrogant bastard.

You dig your heel into his back in response, evoking a soft chuckle from him before he rejoins his tongue to you.

Between his swollen lips sucking on you and his fingers still hitting that sweet spot, it wasn’t long until a heat starts coiling in your lower abdomen. Your heart begins to pick up and your moans grow louder as you approach your peak and in an instant, Sukuna is retracting his fingers and pulling away from you.

An incredulous look flashes across your face as you glance down. “Sukuna.”

“What?” he inquires, his voice carrying a mocking tone.

Was he really fucking teasing you?

Before you can even react, you’re being hoisted to your feet and spun around. Your eyes are met with a mirror that completely covers one of the walls in his gym.

Hands wrap around your waist and you’re being pulled into him as his hard length makes itself known against you. Fingers, still viscid from your juices, slide up to your lips and part them. He hums in amusement as he slips them into your mouth while his other hand grips your chin and forces you to look ahead to watch your own reflection as you begin to lap the slick from Sukuna’s fingers.

He pulls his fingers from your lips, and brings his mouth down to your ear, his breath hot as it ricochets off of you. “I want you to watch who’s making you feel this good.”

His sweatpants drop to the floor and his hard cock briefly rubs against your skin before his hand splays against your lower back, forcing you to bend over. He wastes no time lining his tip up with your entrance.

“You’re fucking soaked.” is the last thing you hear as he slides his length into you in a quick, fluid movement. He’s massive. You gasp at the sudden stretch of your walls trying to accommodate him before letting out a visceral moan. The pain quickly melting into pure ecstasy.

His strokes start slow and deliberate. He pulls himself out almost entirely before rutting back into you, wanting you to feel every single inch of him. Massive hands grip into your hips, holding your tender flesh so tight you’ll undoubtedly be bruised for weeks. A hand wreathes it’s way down to your swollen clit, rubbing circles around it as his pace begins to pick up. Your eyes instinctively close for a brief moment before a sharp burning sensation spreads across your scalp. His hand, now entangled in your hair, forcing your attention back to him.

Staring at your reflection, he smiles, flashing his unusually sharp canines. His smile isn’t smug or seductive. The look in his eyes is dark, he looks like he wants to devour you. “Watch.”

He drops his hand from your hair and places it back at your hip, while the other is still stroking your needy clit. His thrusts become faster, deeper, and desperate. Sweat drips down his contorted face as a mixture of grunts, moans, and curses slip from his lips. “You’re taking me so fucking good.”

Your legs start to tremble as that familiar pleasure starts coiling in your lower abdomen. You watch as Sukuna relentlessly buries himself into you and everything starts to slow down. A white light flashes across your vision and you cry out as he pushes you over the edge. Walls pulsating around him, you feel your inner thighs grow viscous.

“Fuck,” is all he offers as his breaths grows labored. He brings his other hand back to your side to steady you as he thrusts into your cunt a couple more times. Sukuna pulls himself out at the last second and paints your lower back with hot, white ribbons.

He steps back, reaching for one of his sweat towels folded over a nearby machine. The sudden loss of contact has you reaching out, searching for something to help steady your wobbly legs.

One arm snakes around your waist to offer you the stability you need, while the other carefully wipes away the cum decorating your skin. “I had thought of something else I wanted to have you do before your session ended, but I don’t think you’ll have enough stamina left.”

You turn to face that smug grin you’ve grown to like a little too much, and glance up into his crimson eyes. “Guess we’ll add it to next week’s session.”

[l-starsz]

a/n: i don’t actually like this but i planned to post it when i was writing it so yeah:) also i wrote this because most if not all of my inbox is smut requests (i’m not complaining) and i felt like writing some fluff

my heart was hurting. everything was hurting and i didn’t know why. i closed my eyes and tried to distract myself. i played music. i watched something. no matter what i did, my mind wandered back to one thing. her voice.

i tried watching videos to hear her voice but it was no use. i needed to call her. i knew i shouldn’t though. she was out with friends. i needed to give her space. i tried so hard to keep myself distracted. i really did try. i couldn’t though.

my mind began to wander off. back to the one thing i was trying to avoid. i couldn’t. i’d been doing so well. i had the strongest urge. but i knew i just needed to keep myself busy for a little longer. just until billie was home.

i managed to keep myself occupied for all of 10 minutes before i couldn’t anymore. it was either hurting myself, or call billie. and i know what she’d rather me do. and i know what i wouldn’t regret later. i picked up my phone, finding billies contact before deciding whether to facetime her or just call her.

i ended up calling her, i didn’t want her or her friends to see how i looked. i wasn’t sure if she’d answer. she’d answer if she were to see my call, i know that, but i was worried she wouldn’t see it since she was a little busy.

as soon as i heard the ringing, my heart dropped. what if i ruined her day? what if she got mad? i tried to push those thoughts aside as i heard billies voice down the phone after a few rings.

“hey baby! everything okay?”

i stayed silent for a second. i didn’t want her to be mad at me.

“what’s going on love? talk to me.” her tone softened slightly.

“i.. i’m having a difficult day.” i sighed.

small tears rolled down my cheeks as i sniffled, trying to keep myself calm.

“tell me about your day, i’ll try to make it better baby.” i heard her move, probably to somewhere more private where we could talk.

“i just.. i don’t know i’ve just been stressed and i feel anxious. i needed to hear your voice to distract me a bit.”

she comforted me for a little bit and made sure i’d calmed down. she ended up making me laugh and making my mood so much better.

“i’m proud of you for calling me. i’ll be home soon okay?”

“okay billie i love you. thank you.”

“i love you, see you soon pretty girl.” she blew some kisses down the phone, and i did too before ending the call.

i decided to go make some food for when she got back, i mean she just took time out of her day to comfort me when she could’ve ignored me and spent time with her friends, so i wanted to do something for her.

i put my headphones in and turned some music on, then began making the food. because i had my headphones in, i didn’t hear when billie walked in the house. i was in the middle of stirring the food when i felt two arms wrap around my waist, and one of my headphones being taken from my ear.

i flinched before i heard her voice.

“hey baby, i missed you.” she whispered to me, placing a gentle kiss on my neck.

“i missed you more bil.” i smiled, turning in her arms to hug her.

we swayed side to side for a minute before i heard her speak.

“i’m gonna go change, do you need any help?”

i shook my head and smiled, giving her a gentle kiss before she spoke again.

“are you feeling better now? did it help when you called earlier? i just wanna make sure you’re okay.” she took my hands into hers.

“i feel so much better thank you my love. i’m sorry i had to call you whilst you were spending time with your friends.” i mumbled the last part, feeling genuinely guilty.

“don’t be sorry angel. i want you to call me anytime you feel like that no matter what i’m doing. i care about you so much and i’d do anything to make sure you’re okay.”

“are you sure?” i whispered.

she pulled me closer into her embrace again.

“of course i’m sure. now i’m gonna go change and then we can talk about what was bothering you. okay?”

i nodded against her, letting her go before i finished the food.

[pinkolve]

A Spencer Reid Fic- The One Where He Reads Her Diary

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Summary: Spencer Reid gets pressured into reading your diary. How will things end after you find out...

Genre: Fluff, and a little angst

CW: Autistic coded!Fem!Reader, use of Y/N, a bit of dramatic? reader, sad Spencer :(, steamy kisses, slight artist!reader.

Word Count: 2,227

A/N: I'm not the best at writing in a reader's perspective!! I always write my fics with myself in mind, so y/n is usually very similar to myself. I hope you still enjoy this anyways, and let me know if you have any tips for writing x reader fics!! Thank you! <33

Y/N’s always been an honest person, she always tells people exactly what she thinks. She’s blunt, but still kind. Y/N believes that everyone deserves to know the truth, especially when specifically asking for it. But, she also has millions of secrets piled up. Some of them, people know. The others…No one knows, except her diary. 

Y/N had just turned twenty-two a few months ago. Some would argue she’s much too old for a diary, while others would say how beneficial it is for the mind. Like Spencer Reid, for example. He himself had a journal, he just hadn’t used it nearly as much as she did.

He used his journal to talk about important events or changes in his life, while Y/N used it for everything. She wrote everything she ever thought, and drew whatever came to mind. 

The one mistake she had made from the start was keeping her diary in her work bag…That she always left on her desk when she left for the bathroom. 

***

“Reid, man, come on. You need to tell her eventually.” Morgan bantered, standing right next to Spencer’s desk. 

“I’d rather not look like an idiot, Morgan.” Spencer slightly rolled his eyes, still focused on his paperwork. 

“You already do?” Morgan said, confused. Spencer looked up with a scowl. “I’m just messin’ with you Pretty Boy! Just ask her out for coffee, nothing wrong with coffee.” He shrugged. Spencer simply shook his head, staring back down at his files. Morgan shook his own head in disapproval before walking back to his own desk, passing Y/N’s in the process. 

As he passed by, his hip bumped the half-open bag on her desk, knocking it to the floor. Morgan immediately turned around and swore. He set his mug down on the desk and bent down to grab her bag. He took notice of a surprisingly thick notebook. He picked it up and reveled at how heavy it was. Morgan looked at the cover to read ‘Diary.’ His eyes immediately widened. 

A smirk took over his face as he placed the bag back on her desk and carried the journal back over to Reid’s desk. Once he was close enough, he threw the journal on the desk with a particularly loud ‘thud.’ Lucky for the two of them, the office was mostly empty so they were able to pull more shenanigans than usual. 

Spencer looked over at the cover and looked up at his friend with furrowed brows. 

“What is this?” 

“Y/L/N’s diary. Fell out of her bag.” He gestured behind him. Spencer’s face went white, his jaw dropping, and eyes almost bursting out of his head. 

“You cannot be serious! Put this back!” He jumped up from his desk, journal in hand, ready to bring it back to its rightful home. 

“Woah there, Pretty Boy!” Morgan put his palms against Reid’s chest, pushing him back in his desk chair. “You have a major advantage here. You read that, and you’ll probably know everything Y/N’s ever thought about you.” He wiggled his eyebrows. Spencer’s face was angry. “Look Reid, if Y/N finds out I’ll take all the blame. I’ll tell her I read it to you and you didn’t want anything to do with it.” Spencer looked down at the book in his hands, contemplating. 

“I can’t believe I’m letting you convince me into doing this.” Spencer sighed, shaking his head to himself. He hated the idea of invading his best friend’s privacy but he was also still a man. A man with a terrible crush on said best friend. How could he hold her very diary in his own two hands and not read a single word? “One page, that’s it!” Spencer groaned while Morgan ‘woo-hooed.’

Spencer took notice of just how thick the journal was before opening to the newest page. He held the book open gently, praying he wouldn’t break it since it was falling apart already. He looked at the left page, two messy sketches were drawn there in pen. They both were of him, the specific view Y/N had of him from her own desk. These are actually pretty good…He thought to himself. 

“Holy shit, Reid. Is that you?” Morgan practically gasped. 

“Yeah.” He whispered, too entranced by the book. The right page had an entry. 

11/10/24 Sunday, 6:22 pm

Dear Diary, 

Today hasn’t been very eventful. I came into work to try and finish some of my paperwork. Morgan and Spencer apparently had the same idea. I’ve been feeling so weird around Spencer lately. I can’t quite put my finger on why. Usually I feel fine around him, he is my best friend after all. I think it may have something to do with the wet dream I had about him last night…I can’t quite shake it from-

“Okay! That’s enough!” Spencer shut the book harshly, his face beet red. Morgan looked at him with a wide grin. 

“Why wouldn’t you keep reading? It was just gettin’ good!” He chuckled. Spencer glared at him. “Well, now we know she likes you.” Morgan smirked. 

“This doesn’t prove anything! People have wet dreams about other people when they don’t even like them, all the time!” Spencer almost screamed. Just then, Y/N came in through the large glass doors, letting out a loud sigh and stretching. She took one look at her desk and groaned. 

“Derek Morgan, I told you to stop leaving your coffee on my desk!” She complained, grabbing it angrily. She looked over at the two, their faces covered in guilt. “What happened to you guys?” She questioned. 

“Nothing. Nothing at all!” Spencer yelled, awkwardly covering the journal with both his arms. Y/N walked towards them while chuckling. 

“Come on guys, you look totally guilty. What’d you do?” She smiles at Morgan then looks over at Spencer, taking notice of the large lump under his arms. “What’s that? Did you accidentally buy erotica again?” She shook her head. She reached over to pry his arms away from the object. “I told you to stop-” Y/N cut myself off, staring at her own journal. Her face drained of any color and every feature on her face practically melted. 

“Y/N/N, I’m so-” Spencer started.

“Shut up.” She spit out. She tore her journal from him and slammed Morgan’s coffee on his desk, causing it to spill everywmye. She practically ran back to her own desk and packed her things. 

“Y/L/N, it wasn’t his fault. I’m the one who-” Morgan tried to reason. 

“I said shut the fuck up!” She screeched, her face red with anger and embarrassment. “I never thought you would do something like this to me. I trusted you with everything I had and you broke it like it was nothing.” She was crying now, looking between the two men. But all of them knew she was only really talking to Spencer. 

“Y/N, please-” 

“Don’t ever talk to me again you fucking asshole!” She sobbed out before running to the elevator and making a fast exit. Morgan looked over at Spencer and his heart nearly broke. Spencer looked like a wounded puppy, his eyes were wide and filled with unshed tears. He looked frozen in place, he couldn’t move a single inch. He begged any and every deity he could think of to make Y/N come back so he could explain. They hadn’t listened to any of his pleas. 

***

Y/N lay in her living room on her large corner sofa. The TV was on, playing ‘Gilmore Girls’ very loudly. She hoped to drown out any thought she had with the noise. So far, it wasn’t working. 

She hadn’t been to work in nearly a week, it was currently Saturday and no one had heard from her. She only called Hotch to tell him she wouldn’t be in for a while, sick with the flu. She sure as hell couldn’t admit that the real reason was because her crush read her diary. It felt stupid enough in middle school, she wasn’t about to say it aloud to her own boss. 

Everyone on the team was very worried, getting barely any information and zero replies from Y/N. Penny, Emily, Morgan and J.J had all come to her apartment on different occasions, begging to see her. She never let them in. The only thing she cared about was seeing Spencer, but at the same time, she never wanted to see him again. Funnily enough, Spencer was the only one who hadn’t come over. Y/N was partially glad for this because she knew if he was at her door, she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from opening it. 

Spencer had of course sent about fifty-three text messages and made twenty-four phone calls to her. Once again, all of them were ignored. Spencer was the kind of person who liked to talk in person, apologize in person. All his text messages were him begging to talk to Y/N, to let him explain. None of them actually contained any excuses or apologies. She was clearly clueless on any reasoning he had, or how much he had read, because he didn’t want to say any of it in a meaningless text. He had been waiting since Wednesday for the weekend to come rolling around. He planned to show up and explain everything, but he needed to make sure they had plenty of time to talk, hence the weekend. 

Everyone on the team knew of his plan so they all refrained from going over themselves. They just hoped the two would figure everything out. 

*** 

Y/N had just gotten out of the shower when she heard a knock on her door. She rolled her eyes to herself and sighed, looking at the time. 

“Which one of them has the brilliant idea to come over at eight in the morning?!” She yelled to herself. She softly and slowly walked against the hardwood floor, careful not to make a single noise and alert whoever was behind the door. She wouldn’t answer it but she at least wanted to know who it was this time. 

“Y/N…It’s me.” Spencer’s voice rang out and she froze. “I know you’re angry but I really need to talk to you. Please let me in.” His voice was pathetic and sad, cracking occasionally. Within seconds the door opened in front of him. There stood the girl he’s been dreaming of seeing all week. Her hair was soaking wet and so were her shoulders and arms. A towel was wrapped around her body tightly, showing off her figure. Spencer watched a single droplet of water pass down between the valley of her breasts. 

“H-Hey.” Spencer choked out. 

“Hi.” Y/N greeted shyly. 

“I need to talk to you.”

“So I heard.” She nodded a little. “What about?” 

“You know what about…” 

“Okay, fine. What specific part of that interaction would you like to discuss? What, did you just come over to make fun of me? To ridicule me for the way I feel? Did you come over here just to humiliate me even more?!” Y/N’s voice raised the more she spoke. 

“No!” Spencer yelled, cutting her off. “I don’t want to do any of that!” He sighed to himself. “I…I never should have read your diary. Morgan convinced me, and I know I should have reacted better, and not listened to him. He just kept telling me how…Convinient it would be. I’ve been scared to tell you how I really feel for the last two years. He told me that reading your diary would be the perfect way to see how you feel about me before I confessed and made an idiot of myself. I just…I had a weak moment and I hate that I hurt you in the process.” A couple tears fell from the corners of his eyes. “I’m so…So sorry, Y/N/N.” 

She looked up at him with an expressionless face. Spencer looked back into her eyes with the saddest look on his face. He was about to ask her what she was thinking when she told him instead. 

“Do you like me? Romantically?” She asked, voice monotone. 

“Of course I do. I genuinely thought it was obvious, I can never stop how flustered I get around you. All I’ve dreamed about since we became friends is spending my life with you. Whether we spend it as best friends or more, I couldn’t care less. I just want you with me every step of the way” Spencer spoke honestly. 

“Kiss me.” Y/N blurted out. Spencer’s eyes went wide. 

“W-What?” He stuttered. 

“Please.” She breathed out. “Kiss me.” Her eyes were heavy and clouded. Spencer was quick to reach down and grab the sides of her face in his hands, pushing their lips together roughly. Y/N whimpered the minute his lips touched her own. Just as fast as the kiss happened it turned sloppy. Spencer’s hands travelled down to her waist, gripping tightly. She had wrapped her arms around his neck, her breasts pushing up against his chest. Their tongues collided and twirled against each other. 

“I love you, Spencer.” She whispered against his lips. 

“I love you more, Y/N.” He sighed.

[addictao3]

need you to make more yandere content 😫😫

I totally forgot about my asks BUT ask and you shall receive heh heh(this might suck because I’m so tired and I’m writing this while being kinda sleep deprived) this has a bit of kidnapping but your as twisted as your beau.

M!Yandere x Loving M!reader

After a lovely blind date(that you thought was a blind date. As if Florence didn’t plan it all). You get home late, feeding your sweet kitty cat, a fat Tuxedo that usually hates everyone but you. You don’t notice anything wrong. I mean why would you?

As you bathe you feel a slight sense of unease, as if someone is watching you. You grip the base of your cock feeling excited. The feeling of being watched. Exhilarates you.

What you didn’t know(until later) that Florence was watching you. His eyes are on your hand, moving up and down your cock. Florence! own hands are in his pants furiously moving on his own cock. Peeping through your small bathroom window.

(Timeskip)

Hours after you go to sleep, you wake up disoriented and fuck- you’re tied to a chair. Fuck shit no- it’s that-

“Hi~.” Florence giggles and waves at you. Shit. He walks past you and kisses your cheek. “You’re so pretty. Hm. All tied up~.” He doesn’t know that you’re watching him, your eyes not coated with fear but with lust. Pure total lust. I mean come on. Seeing your own personal stalker get all hot and bothered, all hard, just because he wants you.

Florence laughs at your face, mistaking it for fear. He touches your cheek, mildly surprised when instead of flinching away you lean into it. His face grows pink. “You-.” He stares at you confused.

“My own little yandere~.” You purr out. You nip at his finger. Florence turns red and splutters. “What- you- hey!” He pulls his hand back. Your smile turns violent.

“Come on pretty boy. Untie me- I’ll show you some fun.” You laugh. Florence stares at his hand. “Please?” You ask. In less than a moment you were cut loose. The ropes falling(leaving small marks on you, he’ll cherish them. You’ll cherish them). You stand up slowly. Eyes flashing with danger.

Florence backs up slowly. “We- we can talk about this?” He asks. His lip quivering. Then there is a short scream that he lets out when you tackle him. His knees pounding on the soft carpeted floor.

—————————————————-

“Ahhh~.” Florence moans out as you bully your way inside him. Fucking his softtightwarm ass. Your cock pressing against his prostate as you pound him. The pace was punishing.

“Come on. Be loud pretty baby.” You moan out as you leave hickies across his neck. With a sharp bite to his jugular Florence comes, the thick fluid spurting against his shirt.

“Ah-ah-.” He whimpers out as you continue to press inside him. “My turn~.” You grunt out. Your thrusts becoming erratic.

With a dozen more thrusts you cum inside him. Pushing in as deep as you can go, claiming his crevices as your own. Your own personal yandere.

You pull out of him slowly. The cum started to drip from his flexing hole. You push the thick fluid back into Florence’s shuddering and trembling body.

“All mine.”

A win is a win. And in this case. You win a pet, he wins you.

[tokkiwrites]

Can you write more Wade Wilson? I really like your writing :)

▪︎summary: you're at a small diner, where you work part-time as a waitress. Every day, you meet tons of annoying jerks, but today, one of those said jerks gets your heart pounding and your panties wet.

▪︎tags: pwp but not really, afab reader, this takes place when Wade was just a mercenary, lots of flirting (its wade duh), pet names, sex with a stranger, sex in a public place, mirror sex, unprotected p in v, kind of mean wade, tiny breeding kink, creampie.

▪︎thank you for requesting!!! honestly, im still on the deadpool rush, and I'm working on another fic with him. until then, i hope you enjoy this 2.45k word read!

It’s a slow afternoon, the kind where time drags and you’re left counting salt shakers just to stay awake. The bell over the door jingles, pulling your attention, and when you look up, the air in your throat gets stuck. The man who walks in is leaves you a bit dizzy. Tall, broad shoulders, all cocky in his step. His leather jacket clings to him like it was made for him, and the way he runs a hand through his messy hair has your stomach doing involuntary flips. Then he looks your way, and his grin is sharp enough to cut glass. You snap your gaze back to the table you were wiping, cheeks heating up. Great. Just what you need— a customer who’s not only trouble but stupidly attractive.

He slides into a booth in the corner, his movements fluid. You grab your notepad, steeling yourself as you approach. “Ready to order, sir?” you ask, your voice sounding far more composed than you feel on the inside. “Not quite,” he says, looking you up and down, grin widening as his eyes meet yours. Your legs turn into jelly. “Guess I got a little distracted.” Your heart skips, but you mask it with an unimpressed look, though you're sure it didn't fool him. “I’d recommend sticking to the food, sir.”

He chuckles, leaning back in his seat like he’s settling in for a show. “Feisty. Alright then. I’ll take a burger. Surprise me with the toppings.”

“Anything to drink?” You ask, writing it down.

“Coffee. Black. Like my soul, in case you couldn’t notice." he says, in a fake sad voice, leaning forward slightly, his eyes still locked on yours. You try your best not to laugh. Perfect, he's hot and funny. “And for dessert…” He pauses, tilting his head as if he’s really considering it, then hums. “I was hoping I could have you for dessert.”

Your face heats instantly, and you fight the urge to stumble over your words. “W-we have pie,” you manage to stutter out, glaring at him even as your pulse quickens. “Pie sounds good,” he says, clearly enjoying your reaction. “But only if I get to eat it between your legs."

This is really happening to you, isn't it? “I’ll get your coffee started.” But there's no bite to it. As you walk back to the counter, you feel his gaze following you, and no matter how hard you try, you can’t stop the way your lips tug into a small smile.

You place his order and try to busy yourself at the counter, but you can feel his eyes on you the entire time. It’s like he’s made it his personal mission to get you as riled up as possible. You grab the freshly brewed coffee, setting it on a tray along with a small creamer and sugar packet.

As you walk back to his table, you steel yourself, determined not to let him see how much he’s getting under your skin. But the moment you set the cup down in front of him, he looks up at you with that same infuriating smile that gets you wet in all the right places.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he says, taking the coffee and blowing on it lightly. Then, as if the thought just struck him, he adds, “How about instead of a cash tip, I give you another kind of tip?” Your skin burns so hot it’s a miracle the coffee in his hand doesn’t start boiling. “S-sir, this is a diner,” you stammer, voice barely steady.

“Oh, keep calling me ‘sir,’” he says with a groan, giving you a once-over that feels appraising. “Might give you an extra 10% just for that.” You gape at him, completely thrown off. “A-are you always like this?” You manage, trying to regain even a shred of composure.

“How about you meet me in the bathroom to find out how I really am,” he says smoothly, taking a slow sip of his coffee while his eyes stay locked on yours.

You quickly grab the empty tray, retreating to the counter under the guise of checking on his food. Your heart is pounding, your hands slightly shaky, but you can’t help the ridiculous tug at your heart and the growing feeling in your lower belly.

As annoying as he is, there’s something oddly charming about him—something hot. Maybe it's his courage. Or maybe he's just stupid. Either way, going to the bathroom sounds really good, just about now. So that's what you do, heading to the bathroom he entered minutes ago.

Pushing open the bathroom door, you freeze.

There he is. Leaning casually against the sink, as if he owns the place. His leather jacket is slung over one arm, his other hand resting on the counter. When he sees you, that devilish smirk spreads across his face like he’s been expecting you all his life.

“Fancy meeting you here,” he says, his tone dripping with mischief. “What’s the matter, sweetheart? Couldn’t stay away? Thought you were a good girl” Your stomach twists, and you feel both mortified and strangely thrilled. “This is the women’s bathroom,” you manage, your voice a little breathless.

“Is it?” He glances around exaggeratedly. “Huh. Guess that explains the lack of urinals. My bad.” You narrow your eyes, trying to look unimpressed despite you knowing he'd be here and your pounding heart. “You s-shouldn’t be in here.”

“Or maybe,” he says, taking a step closer, “I should. And I'm exactly where you want me to be.” Your breath hitches as the space between you shrinks. His presence feels overwhelming, and you can’t decide if you want to disappear or drop to your knees in front of him. "C'mon, sweet thing. I know you wanna." he practically purrs in your ear.

"There a-are people here, andㅡ" he tuts, resting one of his large palms onto your hip."There aren't, babe, this place is basically abandoned. plus, your shift is over soon." Your eyes dart around his face as you try and speak again. "But, Iㅡ" but he chuckles while interrupting you again. "Look, do you want me to fuck you or not?" Well.

"Yes.." god, what are you doing? "See. Wasn't so hard now, was it?" He towers over you, taking away any last wish for fighting that you had left. You work too damn hard. Maybe it's okay to let loose. If letting loose means fucking a stranger in the bathroom of your workplace... so be it. The last piece of resistance crumbles. You don't want to fight anymore. You want to see where this will go, consequences be damned. You want the wildness, the chaos, the thrill of stepping outside the boundaries you've always kept yourself within.

Without thinking, you tilt your head up, meeting his gaze with a mixture of defiance and submission. His eyes darken, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, as if he's won some battle. "Good girl," he breathes, his thumb brushing the edge of your jaw. The contact sends sparks through you, and your skin burns where he touches.

without any hesitation, he spins both of you so that you are facing the large, old mirror above the counter. He groans, rolling his shoulders back as he bends you over the sink, your hips snug in his grip. "Shit, you're so fucking gorgeous."

you look down, a whimper bubbling at the back of your throat. "Please.." The man shakes his head and lands a hard smack on one of your asscheeks, making you yelp in the process. He takes his time pulling up the uniform skirt you had on , finally taking a look at your soaking panties. They were barely covering anything. His calloused thumb makes contact with your clothed folds, dragging it up and down, in painfully slow circles. Without a warning, you hear the material rip and feel the flimsy undergarments fall on the cold tiled floor.

"Pretty pussy." he mutters under his breath, undoing his jeans. he pulls them a bit down, enough for his manhood to spring free and slap against his covered bellybutton. you can see it all in the mirrorㅡ it's huge. you gasp softly as you feel him drag the tip of it against your swollen bud, and you hide your gaze, head hanging low. this doesn't last long, as you feel his rough palm grab at your face and pulling it up again. you're making eye contact with him through the mirror and you see him shake his head. "Uh-uh, you watch while I fuck you, okay?" you shake your head, agreeing, but that isn't good enough so he slaps your cheek with the back of his hand, lightly. "C'mon, you were all cocky out there. What happened? I didn't even dick you down yet and you can't speak?"

" 'M sorry..." he drags the pulsing tip up and down, up and down as if he didn't make you wait long enough. truthfully, you never wanted it to end, so maybe him teasing was his way of making sure this lasts. after he thinks its sufficient, he starts to push inside, and godㅡ your breath gets stuck into your lungs from the feeling laden with thorns; every prick of discomfort is countered by an unexpected surge of delight. Your tears fall down onto the surface under you, little moans gripping your throat as he slips inside further. "Shhh. It's okay. C'monㅡ" he assures you, asking you to surrender. " There we go...Nice and full, right?" he laughs, lifting your hips a bit to get a better angle. He moves gently at first, each stroke hitting deeper within your core, the pain soon converging with ecstasy right as he alerts his movements.

His hips dive down with force, one of his palms snaking up and wrapping itself tightly around your throat, assuring you see how good he's destroying you. your head was spinning, heart pounding, as his whole weight dominated over you. "That's it, pretty girl." his thrusts are rough, each hit making your body bounce, the urgency as he hit that very spot each timeㅡ your whole insides burning, too cock drunk to talk or respond, other than some pathetic whines that perfectly accompanied the wet sounds your pussy made wrapped around the stranger.

"Fuckㅡ please.." You manage. pulling at your hair, he starts. "What if your manager walked in just now? What if they saw how good you take this cock? Yeah, nice and deepㅡ" while thrusting relentlessly into you, your legs barely holding up anymore.

Feeling you tightening, the hand that was around your throat slips down to your clit, while the other makes you spread your legs wide again for easier access, giving you a chance to take in a big gasp of air. "want me to cum in this pussy, huh? feel you up with my babies?" the room spins around you, body floating as if ready to plummet back down, you try your best to reply. "Yes, yes! please, please, I'mㅡ"

"Go ahead." the man succeeded to say, between his breathy groans. "Thank you, thank you, oh god, thank you so much!" you say as if praying to him whilst he keeps fucking into you. The man buries himself into you as you come down from your high, body almost too limp to register your surroundings. he slaps your ass, and watches you writhe under him. With a few more snaps of his hips you know he's close, nails digging roughly into your skin as he finally paints your walls with white ropes. "Holy shit." You know that you'll be bruised tomorrow.

the bathroom feels sticky, and the mirror in front of you is all fogged up, but you can just barely make out your face, all tearstained and messy. You moan as he pulls out, the sudden feeling of emptiness leaving you shivering. He watches intently as his seed drips out of you, body beautifully splayed out right under him. you're both quiet for a bit, catching your breaths and you feel like you are floating.

"How's that for a tip?" he laughs.

[drewdoa]

𒈔 ⸺ enforcer agenda ♡ viktor hcs/blurbs

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ a/n: hey there :)) happy new year!!! i’ve been gone for a little bit cause busy with family >.< BUT IM BACK WITH STUFF YAY!! i should be on my writing grind now that i’ll have spare time during school and such so i should be back to normal :D!! i hope you enjoy these blurbs cause they’re honestly my favorite

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ extra info: no gender specific reader!, a bit of flirtation, you’re in an enforcer uniform/gear, implied nsfw

ꕥ —

vik is so used to seeing people in uniform, but never in a billion years would he expect you to turn bluebelly! you’ve expressed before that enforcers make you feel some kind of way, you’ve seen what they’ve done to the people of zaun. however, caitlyn thought you could use some training incase something turned sideways. she suggested you train with the enforcers to learn a thing or two, which honestly isn’t a bad idea at all. so you took up the offer.

you knew viktor would get a kick out of this, you becoming stronger and in that heavy outfit. you could already hear his slick and funny comments in your head, teasing you and hints of flirting. at the end of the day, you still know he’d still have you arched like the bridge of progress.

rotting away in his lab as the sound of chalk scraping against his board travels around the sound waves. normally, viktor doesn’t bat an eye at the sound of the metal gear tapping across the halls nearby. until the sound of the tall wood doors that hide the lab cracked open, steps gradually getting louder. “you know, it’s just etiquette knocking before entering, don’t you agree?” viktor spat before turning his back and facing you. he stood there for a moment before placing down his pencil behind him.

“you-” he paused, relaxing his shoulders and taking the sight of you in. “look good. who gave you that?” the rest of his sentence flew out as he began to circle around you. “i got it from caitlyn’s closet, she surprisingly has bigger sizes but that’s probably cause of vi”

“no complaints here, it fits you perfectly” viktor follows with a laugh. this lead to you coming into his lab often when you’ve got some extra time on your hands. even if it’s just to go in there and give him a kiss :)) (where you kiss him is up to you😋)

he 100% pulls you in with his cane, especially when you’re stuck guarding the hallways and can’t be caught slipping. coincidently, viktor had a spare moment and dedicated it all to you. let’s just say when you were back on duty your uniform looked like you’d been roughing it ;).

oh you’d so catch him wearing the uniform cause it smells like you. he wants anything that resembles you at all. gotta out him here, definitely a pervert to take your underwear and stash it in a box along with all your other personal things. he just wants reminders of you all the time <3 (this is also foreshadowing him tying one of your old shirts around his cane :)))

no surprises when it comes to viktors hidden talents, he would definitely take a blank book and write all of his thoughts about you in it. he’d think of it as his prized possession, never leaving it out of his sight, and especially keeping it away from you. viktor couldn’t bare the embarrassment honestly, imagining you reading the filthy things he’s written about you sends a chill down his spine. but its viktor we’re talking about here, he’d probably enjoy that. <3

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ hello!!! i feel like this was just a bit short but i have a few fics i’ll be releasing as soon as im finished up with them ! you pt 2 in the works as well for all you viktor lovers just like me <33 and im working on expanding my writing and will be working on stuff for new characters >v< hopefully you can stick around till then, thank you for reading - drew

[flutterclouds]

This was such an awesome chapter, Tesh! I really loved the tense and enigmatic atmosphere of Team Scarlet and Samir’s journey into the mines. The numerous mysterious lantern imprints in the ground contributed so much to the eerieness of the investigation. The Asra arc has been such a treat to read so far. The earthquake mystery is really intriguing and I love seeing what Nia and Toby come up with during their investigations. The rain clue made me wonder what Pokemon in the area besides Eddy and Calder could know Rain Dance. To my surprise when looking on Bulbapedia, a lot of non-water types can learn Rain Dance via TM. As such, that clue would not do much good at the moment.

Another part of this chapter I really loved was Nia and Toby’s rapport. It’s really sweet that Toby has become so much more open with Nia, and that she feels much more at ease around him. The little worldbuilding about Nia being from the Midwest was a fun detail.

Samir was such a fun addition to the team for the stakeout! They have such a stoic personality, and it’s plain to see how seriously they take their job as a Seeker. I thought it was really interesting getting to learn that their former partner left them because they thought Samir’s ground writing was too slow for missions. It’s clear that Samir has a lot of pent up pain from being pretty much abandoned by someone they thought they could trust.

I have to reiterate how the stakeout was such a great scene! Team Scarlet and Samir have a really good dynamic and it was on fully display here. The atmosphere was excellent as well. The mysterious vanishing figure creeping through the desert on a lonely moonlit night really added to the tension of the stakeout. The hole under the mine cart was also such a great twist! I love secret passages in stories, so this is right up my alley. The artificial cavern scene had such a tense atmosphere to it. In addition to the fact there was a whole wall of mirrorstone for Giratina to observe them from, there’s evidence of something large burrowing underneath the town. And the twist that it was a Steelix is just so cool. Eddy making a fortune off of the building repairs is also such a great character motive for him. Definitely reminds me a bit of the scheme that Gurdurr and Scraggy had in Gates to Infinity. That final scene where the ground of the cavern opens up into darkness is just simply incredibly written. As always, I’ll be looking forward to reading the next chapter!

Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Seekers of Soul

[Chapter 44]

<< First | < Previous | Next >

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Tobias, Nia, and Samir explore the mine and put a plan into motion. But they might find more than they bargained for beneath the town...

-

Tobias is tense as he leads the way into the darkness of the tunnel, trying to keep his steps light just in case anyone is lurking inside. His tail flame throws bouncing shadows around the rocky walls, showing the remnants of rotting wooden support beams and broken lamp lights.

It’s cool in here, and eerily silent.

Nia and Samir follow him, sticking close to the halo of light he provides. They’re quiet as they carefully step over rocks and debris, the occasional broken tool or remnants of a crate scattered about.

They’ve only been walking for a minute or two, so Tobias is surprised when they reach the back of the tunnel, where a cave-in has blocked off the rest of the mine with a slope of dirt and rock. A lopsided old mine cart missing a wheel sits off to the side of it.

“That’s it?” He asks, tense shoulders dropping.

Nia pads past him, her brow furrowed. “That…can’t be it. I could’ve sworn the mines would have something to do with all this.”

Tobias had thought the same—it seemed like too big of a coincidence to have a network of underground mines surrounding a town suffering from earthquakes.

Samir sighs and shakes their head, sitting heavily on the ground and giving them another tired look. Tobias can just imagine the quiet I told you so.

Tobias crosses his arms, irritated. “Well now what? We just go back to town and hope we stumble on a lead? Lotta good that did us yesterday.”

“I mean…the town probably needs our help with repairs anyways,” Nia points out. She’s been padding around the perimeter of the cave, paw trailing along the wall as if she’ll find a secret switch or something. She drifts over to the rickety remains of the mine cart with her usual brand of curiosity.

Samir gives a nod of approval, and Tobias rolls his eyes. He doesn’t disagree, necessarily, but—

“Oh,” Nia says, only her tail visible from behind the mine cart. There’s a quiet clink, and then she shuffles out backwards, into the light of Tobias’ flame. “Look at this!”

In her paw dangles an oil lamp, unlit but half-filled with a clear liquid.

Samir stands, a bit too abrupt to be casual. Their brow is furrowed.

“Something weird about this?” Tobias asks, suspicious. He glances at it again, making sure it doesn’t look like some kind of trap.

Samir doesn’t look alarmed necessarily, but they do nose the lamp, staring hard at the way the oil within the container moves with the motion. Slowly, they nod, before writing in the dirt.

FRESH

“Right,” Nia says, frowning as she tilts the lamp and watches the oil move around inside. “If this was left behind from the old mining days, it surely would’ve dried up by now. Right?”

“Could Calder or one of the townsfolk have brought it here?” Tobias asks. “Recently, I mean. Maybe when he and Pan were investigating before the cave-in?”

Samir’s eyes flick to the mine cart. They jerk their chin at Tobias, urging him closer to it. Tobias doesn’t like being bossed around by the skiddo, but he moves to the cart regardless, following the grass type’s direction and shuffling behind it to bring his tail flame to the lamp’s previous hiding spot.

In the thin layer of dirt, there are faint circular impressions left behind. Many of them, actually—upwards of ten, easily. Some of them overlap, some of them are a few inches apart from each other. Tobias can tell just looking at them that they would match the bottom of the lantern they’d just found.

The only reason Tobias can think of for such a thing is if someone had been placing the lantern here, over and over again. A quick examination by Calder wouldn’t cause that.

“Did you find something?” Nia asks, trying to peer behind the cart to see.

“What do you think of these?” Tobias shuffles back to the cave wall so his tail will still illuminate the little wedge of space, careful not to step on the rings in the dirt.

“Are those…imprints?” Nia asks, glancing over her shoulder. “From the lantern?”

“Think so.”

“There’s so many…”

Tobias glances up at Samir, whose brow is furrowed. “Finally think there might be something weird going on?”

Samir’s mouth flattens, but they continue to stare at the rings. Slowly, they nod.

“So what do we do now?” Nia asks, crouching to get a closer look. “Do we tell Calder?”

“Then we’ll get in trouble for being here at all,” Tobias scoffs. “No, this isn’t solid evidence. We need to make sure we can convince him that something strange is actually happening before admitting to coming to the mines.”

Samir looks unhappy about that, but also doesn't protest. Since they know Calder better, Tobias guesses he’s spot-on.

“Okay, but how do we find solid evidence? Catch someone in the act of doing something, um…suspicious?” Nia asks, paw on her chin. “Since we don’t have cameras, I guess we would just have to stake out the cave until someone shows up?”

Her tone is half-joking, but Tobias considers it. “...Not a terrible idea, actually.”

Samir gives him a doubtful look, shuffling back into the tunnel proper. Nia and Tobias follow after putting the lantern back in place.

Samir is scratching something into the dirt. Tobias moves his tail closer to read it.

HOW KNOW THEY’LL COME BACK?

Tobias’ mouth twists. “I guess we can’t know for sure. But if those marks are anything to gauge by, they’ve been here pretty often.”

CAN’T STAY ALL DAY

TOWN NEEDS HELP

“We could take shifts,” Tobias suggests, though he’s reluctant. He doesn’t want one of them to get caught alone with someone who could be dangerous.

“Well,” Nia says. “If they don’t want to be seen they’re probably coming here at night, right? We could help out the town today, try to catch a nap in the evening, and then come out here after night falls?”

Samir and Tobias exchange a glance. Tobias can’t think of anything wrong with that plan, aside from them being exhausted come morning. Samir still seems uneasy, but doesn’t protest.

“You think Takeo will let us leave?” Nia asks. “He already looked kinda suspicious after we talked about the mines last night.”

“He’s not our parent,” Tobias scoffs. Still, the spidops could definitely ruin their plan if he finds out they disobeyed him and Granite and went to the mines anyways. “We’ll just have to sneak out. There’s a window in our room.”

Nia clearly isn’t thrilled about that, but she doesn’t argue. Instead, she plays nervously with the collar of fluff around her neck and looks to their companion.

“S-Samir, are you going to join us?”

The skiddo slumps with defeat, but nods.

Tobias nods. “Meet us on the edge of town where we left today, after dark settles in.”

Once they’ve got their plan settled, Tobias leads the two of them back outside (after thoroughly erasing Samir’s words in the dirt), blinking in the almost painfully bright light of late morning. Slowly, the shapes and colors of the canyon and distant town come into focus.

“Nightfall, then?” Tobias confirms with the skiddo.

Samir nods before springing down the rocks and back towards town. Nia and Tobias hurry to follow.

—————————————————————————————

Calder is visibly relieved when the three of them approach him about how to best help the town. The inteleon immediately directs them to where the most dire assistance is needed, splitting them up to cover more ground.

The day after the quake is no less busy, but slightly less frantic. Less damage control for injuries, but lots of deliveries needed for patients’ medication and other supplies. Less huge structural concerns, but plenty of signs needing rehung and planks of wood needing straightened and nailed down.

Tobias, sweat hissing from his skin within the hour, passes frequently by Nia, Samir, and Calder, as well as the town doctor. They’re all busy at work, trying to help the town back to its feet. A few of the townsfolk come forward to offer to help too throughout the day, but most ‘mon are busy enough trying to tend to their own problems.

Aurum, the weirdly cheery hakamo-o, requests Tobias’ help with sealing up some cracks in her bank’s stone steps. She chatters happily to him the whole time, which is annoying, but at least she doesn’t expect more from him than the occasional grunt of acknowledgement.

He’s helping Nia drag some heavy bags of grain to a house down the street when they pass by Pyre, the angry camerupt not even sparing them a glance as he stomps by with some lumber strapped to the small volcanoes on his back. Nia cows away from him, clearly still guilty for suspecting him after learning his daughter was injured in the quakes. Tobias ignores the grumpy old fire type completely.

Tobias helps Samir fix a cracked window next, which apparently belongs to the skiddo's boarder. The lilligant dotes on Samir as the two of them work, making sure the grass type and their “little friend” (Tobias glares at Samir at that) have refreshments. Still, he appreciates the hydration berry she bustles off to find him, and her sweetness is too much like Maggie for him to feel genuinely annoyed.

The three of them take a late lunch when Nia tracks him down whining about their skipped breakfast. They move to grab some food at Deidra’s saloon—not wanting to risk interrogation from Takeo or Granite if possible—until they’re reminded of the terrible damage done to the place when they can see the inner workings of the building from down the street. The building is closed for the day as the construction crew puts aside their most recent project to clear out the worst of the damages.

“Hurry it up with those!” Eddy shouts to one of his workers. The dewott is busy chopping through lumber with deft, precise slices of his razor shell.

“Just making sure they’re in good,” the primeape they saw yesterday says. Cody the aggron is helping him, using a heavy arm to hammer a huge wooden stake into the dirt.

“‘We don't want 'em coming loose if we get any more rain,” Cody adds.

Eddy barks a laugh. “We won’t get any more rain for now. Keep it moving.”

“Awful confident,” the primeape grumbles.

“He is a water type,” Cody points out, finished with his hammering. He leans back to survey his work with a satisfied swish of his heavy tail. “He would know best.”

“Less talkin’, more working,” Eddy grunts, but doesn’t berate them further.

Samir moves away from the construction crew, gesturing for Tobias and Nia to follow. The skiddo doesn't lead the group back to Granite and Takeo’s shop, but instead across town to the little house where Tobias helped replace that window earlier.

Sure enough, Samir’s lilligant boarder is on the porch, sending a petilil off with a wrapped lunch carefully balanced atop her tiny head.

Tobias and Nia step out of the way for her, and Samir gives the little grass type a smile and a nod as she passes by with a chipper, “Hi, Sammy!”

The lilligant, who Tobias doesn’t remember the name of, notices them with a pleased scrunch to her eyes. “Samir! Oh, and your charmander friend, too. Are you here for lunch?”

Samir almost seems bashful, glancing back at Tobias and Nia as if unsure of their presence.

“Oh, we’ve got enough for everyone, don’t worry! Come on in, kids. My name is Lara.”

The lilligant turns and shuffles inside, and the group follows.

“I-I’m Nia!” Nia says, once they’ve entered the homey little living space. She gives Lara a warm smile and a bow. “Thank you for having us!”

Lara laughs. “Well, ain’t you polite! Nice to meet you. My little one could learn some manners from you. Go on and get comfortable and I’ll find a little something for y'all to eat.”

Samir gives her a grateful nod that Tobias copies. Then, the skiddo sits comfortably one one of the large, flat cushions bordering the nearby low table. They're clearly familiar with the space.

“So this is where you’re staying?” Nia whispers, taking a seat beside them. Tobias follows her lead as she looks around with wide eyes. “It’s so cozy!”

It is. The space is packed close but not tight between the table and walls, the cushions beneath them worn but still soft and comfy. Two bookshelves sit against the walls, holding trinkets, a few books, a stack of board games, cards, and other things like sketchbooks and paint supplies in tiny jars. A stack of well-worn quilts and blankets sit next to the nearest bookshelf, ready to grab on chilly nights. Paintings and sketches line the walls in little frames, and a small table with a vase of half-dead flowers sits beneath the window.

“Here you go, kids. Still hot.”

Lara shuffles into the room with three plates along her arm, cushioned by a towel. She places a steaming plate in front of each of them, which Nia eagerly brings closer. Looks like some kind of thick vegetable stew. It smells pretty good, even if the veggies themselves seem a bit scrawny beneath the savory sauce.

“Apologies for the scrappy servings,” Lara says, wiping her leaves on the towel. “The town is a bit tight on food right now thanks to the quakes messing up our crops and keeping merchants away. I can barely keep our harvest running at half its usual output.”

“You’re a farmer?” Nia asks, clearly surprised. She pauses in blowing off her hot food.

Lara laughs. “Sure am! Fourth generation. I may not look it, but I’m actually quite good with the soil ‘round here. This rain is something else. Never seen anything like it.”

Tobias pauses as he picks up his fork. He’s heard offhanded comments saying much the same thing, and even thought himself that it seemed like a lot of rain for a desert town. Could it be connected to the quakes? If they suspect someone of causing those, could someone also intentionally be causing the rain? He can’t imagine why they would want to, but…

“Could a water type be causing the rain?” Tobias asks, taking a bite. Oh, it’s good. Much better tasting than it looks. He hurries to take a second mouthful, grateful for his heat-resistant mouth so he doesn’t have to wait for it to cool.

Lara smiles at his enthusiasm. “I s'pose a water type could bring in rain like this, but the only water types in town are Calder and Eddy, and they know we don’t need any more.”

Tobias refrains from saying anything in response. There’s not an ounce of suspicion in Lara’s voice, and Samir is glaring at Tobias as if to say that if he starts interrogating the lilligant, he has a headbutt in his future.

But he quietly takes that information in as they eat, thanking the lilligant for the meal.

Calder and Eddy are the only water types in town, huh? Tobias didn’t feel anything particularly off about either of them. Calder seems to genuinely care about the town and is clearly still grieving the loss of his partner. Likewise, Eddy just seems like a hard-working ‘mon doing his best to help the townsfolk after their homes and businesses have been ravaged by the quakes.

Maybe the rain is just a freak coincidence after all?

Tobias mulls it over as they eat, idly listening to Nia and Lara chat. The meal is on the smaller side, but it’s hearty and filling and delicious. By time they finish and say their goodbyes, heading back into town to continue their work, Tobias is full and feels rejuvenated. Nia hums happily as they seek out Calder, clearly feeling the same, and even Samir seems to have an extra skip to their step.

With their newfound energy, they get back to work.

—————————————————————————————

It’s early evening when Calder dismisses them all to go back to their lodgings and rest for the day. Tobias, sore and exhausted and with more than a few knicks on his fingers from a variety of tools, doesn’t argue. He and Nia part from Samir with a whispered confirmation of their meeting later that night, then drag themselves back to Granite and Takeo’s place.

The donphan and spidops are amiable but gruff as usual, and the four of them have a short, tired meal before Tobias mutters something about heading to bed early to get some rest for tomorrow. Nia yawns as she agrees.

Luckily, Granite and Takeo don’t seem suspicious, and let them trudge off to their lodgings with little fuss. When they get to their room and shut the door, Nia immediately flops into their pile of cushions.

“I’m never getting up again,” she whines. “I’m so sore.”

Tobias follows her, plopping down a little heavier than he usually would at her side. He can feel her brushing by him, but he’s too tired to move.

“Too bad,” he grumbles. “Because we’ve gotta get back up in a couple hours to do your stupid stakeout.”

Nia turns her head to pout at him in the slowly setting light. “Hey! You agreed to it.”

Tobias makes a noncommittal noise and lets his eyes slip shut.

“How do we make sure we wake up in time?” Nia mumbles, voice already slurred with sleep.

“I’ll just doze,” Tobias answers, hoping that his usual light sleeping habits will be enough to keep them on schedule.

Nia doesn’t argue, either because she trusts he’ll wake back up or because she doesn’t want to think about it anymore. A quiet little snore escapes her.

Oh. Or she’s already asleep.

Tobias huffs, amused, and lets himself drift into a light sleep, face pointed to be able to see the window if he opens his eyes.

It feels like a brief moment later that a quiet noise wakes Tobias. He startles from his nap, but stays still in the dimly lit darkness of their room. The window outside is a deep gray-black. What time is it?

Another sound makes Tobias realize what woke him: the quiet creak of the door closing. The doorknob settles back into place as it shuts. The gentle, rhythmic thump of footfalls—light and staggered, so it must be Takeo—fades away.

Was he checking on them? Suspicious that they’d slipped out?

Whatever the intent, Tobias is grateful for it waking him up. He waits another few seconds before pushing himself out of the comfy pile of cushions, groaning. He’s so sore. His entire body feels tired and heavy. But they said they’d investigate, and Samir is probably waiting for them.

Tobias peeks out the window, glad to see from how the shadows fall outside that the moon isn’t very high yet. They might be a little late, but not drastically so.

Tobias wakes Nia, basically having to roll her out of the nest completely to get her out of her deep sleep.

“Whuz happening?” She mumbles, bleary-eyed as she sits up.

“Stakeout time,” Tobias answers, grabbing her arms and yanking her to her feet.

She stumbles, but stays up, rubbing at her eyes. “This was a terrible idea.”

“Reminder that it was your idea.”

“My judgement stands.”

Tobias bites back a laugh and moves to the window, unlocking its latch to swing it open. Cool night air drifts against his face and into the room like a blot of ink in water. It wakes him up, at least, and from how Nia whines and shakes out her fur behind him, it does the same for her.

Tobias glances at the door one more time before crawling up and over the windowsill. He makes sure the dirt below is clear before gently dropping to the ground.

Nia slowly clambers out the window after him, clearly trying to be careful and not make extra noise.

“Oh! Wait!” Tobias hisses.

Nia freezes, looking at him with wide eyes.

“Go back in and grab our bag,” Tobias whispers.

Nia nods, slipping back into the darkness of the room and rummaging around for a few moments. Then, she reappears, looping its thick strap over her shoulder and across her body.

“Got it!”

“C’mon then.”

Nia carefully climbs over the sill again, turning to lower herself to the ground and stretching out a searching paw to the dirt.

“We’re gonna have another quake before you actually get out of there.”

“Nope, no more earthquakes,” Nia responds, finally reaching solid ground. “I had enough hiding under bars yesterday, thank you very much.”

Tobias reaches up to close the window, hoping that Takeo won’t think to check on them again yet tonight. Then he turns to lead them to the edge of town, glancing around for anyone who might spot them. Unfortunately, his tail flame makes it a little hard to sneak around in the dark, but they can at least try to avoid the townsfolk.

They dart from alleyway to alleyway, moving between buildings in quick bursts. Two ‘mon are talking loudly the next street over, so Tobias leans back against the wall to wait for a chance to slip across. “I’ve been meaning to ask—how’d you know what to do during that earthquake yesterday anyways?”

Nia is busy readjusting the satchel across her shoulder, but spares him an amused look. “We did a lot of earthquake drills in school. Way too many for living in the Midwest, honestly.”

Tobias frowns at her. “Earthquake drills?” Like a drilbur’s drill?

Nia smiles at his confusion. “Yeah! Like…doing a practice run of what we’d do in an emergency, y’know? We would sit under our desks and put a book over our head and neck.”

Tobias frowns. “Are natural disasters getting more common in the human realm too?”

Nia starts to shake her head, but then hesitates. “Actually, they are, but I think ours are due to climate change. Anyways! No, we just kind of had to cover stuff like that for school regulations. Still don’t know why I was so convinced quicksand would be such a concern in my adult life, though.”

Tobias snorts. The voices of the two ‘mon finally move along, fading into the distance, so he waves for Nia to follow before darting into the next alley.

It doesn’t take them long to reach the edge of town, and Samir steps out of the darkness between some barrels right away. Tied to their back is a bulky brown sack, although the weight of it seems light.

“Samir! Were you waiting long?”

The skiddo shakes their head, but jerks their chin in the direction of the mine, clearly wanting to get going. Tobias can’t argue with that, so he gestures for the grass type to take the lead.

The trip across the canyon is quiet, even Nia too busy watching her feet on the uneven terrain (and sending the occasional nervous glance over her shoulder) to strike up a conversation. The sand and rock underfoot is cooling now that the sun has set, and the path ahead is dark, Tobias’ tail offering the only light aside from the dim glow of the stars and moon. He’s grateful that Samir seems to remember the path to the cave, only having to stop occasionally to get their bearings.

Once they reach the edge of the canyon, Samir hops up the tumble of rocks first, stopping every few feet to look back and make sure Tobias and Nia are following. Tobias lights the way for Nia, grabbing her arm to haul her up one of the larger rocks when she slips.

“Where should we hide while we wait?” She asks, looking around.

“Somewhere I can hide my tail flame,” Tobias says, peeking behind some nearby rocks.

Two distinct taps get their attention, and Tobias looks up to see Samir’s head peering over some nearby boulders, at a slightly higher vantage point than they're currently at. The skiddo gestures for them to come up.

Tobias and Nia do so, scrabbling up the sediment and rock a little too loudly. When they reach Samir they find a little spot tucked away behind some large stones, but with a good view of the path leading up to the mines.

“This is perfect!” Nia whispers, sitting down. There’s a gleam of excitement in her eyes. “Good find, Samir.”

Tobias grudgingly agrees. He sits next to Nia as they all settle down onto the cold, hard ground. Small rocks jab into his skin, and he shifts constantly for a minute or so, trying to get comfortable. He tucks his tail flame away at the base of the larger stones, stacking a few small rocks around it to form a little tent and hide away some of the light.

“Think that’s good enough?” He asks.

“I'll check!”

Nia slips out of their hiding place to make sure she can’t see his tail from the path. After a moment, she climbs back up to them.

“You can tell something is off about the lighting if you’re really looking for it, but I don’t think anyone will notice.”

Tobias isn’t satisfied by that, and carefully restacks the stones around his tail to try to contain the light a bit better. He's used to having his tail free to move around and he really doesn't like the feeling of forcing it still.

By time Tobias finally stops fiddling with the rocks, Nia is already not-so-subtly scoots closer to him, visibly trembling now that they aren’t moving about.

Tobias raises a brow, amused. “Cold?”

“F-Fire types don’t get teasing rights in sub-zero t-temperatures,” Nia chatters.

Samir makes a quiet rasping sound that Tobias realizes after a moment is a laugh. Then they reach back over their shoulder and tug open the tie on the brown sack they’d brought along, shoving their short muzzle right in.

“S-Samir?” Nia asks, giving Tobias a questioning look. He shrugs.

Samir pulls their head out of the sack, a well-worn blanket gently clamped between their teeth. It looks familiar, and Tobias realizes after a moment that it must be one of the blankets from Lara’s house. Samir drops it in Nia’s lap, then gives her a stern look and a point of their hoof.

Nia gasps, gathering the blanket in her paws and unfolding it. “Thank you! I’ll be careful with it, promise!”

Samir nods, apparently satisfied, and pulls out a second blanket for themself. They unfold it with their snout and then tug it over their body until they too are covered.

“Thank God we have someone to remember the important stuff,” Nia says, happily wrapping herself up in the blanket. “You’re the best, Samir.”

Tobias feels a stab of irritation at that, but it dies away just as quickly when Nia opens one arm of her quilt and gives him a pleading look.

“You have to come over here," Tobias points out. "I can’t move my tail."

He stays put as Nia hurries to his side and envelops him in the other half of the blanket cocoon. Some part of him is embarrassed about the close quarters, but the rest of him is just pleased that he still has something over Samir.

“You should pay me for how often you use me as a personal heater,” Tobias grumbles. “Cozy?”

Nia makes a happy hum and presses cool fur against his side. “Yup!”

Samir gives the two of them an amused look, clearly content under their own blanket.

And then they wait.

The night is cold but calm, the canyon walls a towering presence of black around them. After a little while, the town’s distant lights start to go dark, one by one. The only sound is the wind and the occasional shift from one of Tobias’ companions.

Tobias’ tail, tucked away and hidden among the rocks, only offers a small circle of light. Otherwise, their surroundings are doused in a level of blackness he’s unfamiliar with. But thanks to that, their adjusted eyes can see more than usual, too.

Overhead, the ragged circle of sky is absolutely filled with stars. Tobias can see how the night sky is layered with them, like thin sheets of crystal. Nia and Samir have followed his gaze, and the riolu in particular looks awestruck by the sight, eyes wide and mouth ajar.

Tobias loves the sight of the stars, but feels a painful knot of nostalgia tug at his chest. The night sky was like this in the mountains, too, open and endless.

When the skies were particularly clear and calm, Tobias’ parents would take him and Vivi flying. Tobias can recall with painful clarity the breathless feeling of being one with that night sky, surrounded on all sides by galaxies and stars that felt close enough to touch. Close enough to fall into. But he’d always felt safe with his parents, grinning from atop one of their backs and occasionally calling out to Vivi. His family's tails looked like shooting stars as they drifted through the dark sky.

Tobias moves his gaze back down to the black stretch of the land. He takes a breath that is audibly shakier than he would like, and Nia, pressed close to his side, notices. She gives him a concerned look that he ignores.

Nia sighs, but loops her arm through his to give what he thinks is supposed to be a reassuring squeeze. He swallows down the embarrassed heat in his throat, the kind that makes him want to snap and push her away. He’s reluctantly enjoying the sensation of her so close and so solid at his side. It's grounding.

Nia tries to start up a hushed conversation with Tobias and Samir once or twice, but each time she does Tobias gives her a frown and glances towards town, nervous about their voices carrying across the canyon. Eventually, she falls silent again. Probably wishing she had a book or something to pass the time.

Hours crawl by. They must, for the stars to slowly migrate overhead and the moon to rise higher and higher into the sky.

Their hiding spot isn’t exactly comfortable, out in the frigid cold and atop rocky terrain, but they try to keep quiet as they readjust, stretching and shuffling when their muscles grow tight and stiff.

Even Tobias is feeling antsy by midnight, torn between exhaustion from the long day and keyed-up tension from their stakeout. Samir looks as calm and unflappable as ever, gazing out towards the town. Tobias thinks Nia has nodded off a few times, until he sees her ear flick or feels her squeeze his arm in the warmth of their blanket cocoon.

“Hey, Samir?”

The riolu’s soft voice feels loud and out of place after the silence. Tobias gives her a warning look, but this time she ignores him.

Samir glances at her.

“You don’t have to answer, but…” Nia takes a breath, the exhale clouding the night air. “Why are you out here on your own? In Asra, I mean. You’re a Seeker, right? At the Lexym Guild, all Seekers have to have a partner.”

Tobias watches Samir’s face, curious despite himself. The skiddo looks caught off-guard at first, but then they look away, their expression closed-off. There's something there, though, poorly hidden just under the surface. Something Tobias recognizes.

Anger.

“I-I’m sorry,” Nia hurries to say. “You really don’t have to talk about it, I just—“

Nia cuts herself off as Samir starts writing in the dirt with the tip of their hoof. They write one word. Pause. Write another. Much slower than they’ve written anything else.

When they’re done, Tobias leans in with Nia to read.

HAD PARTNER

NOT ANYMORE

“Oh,” Nia whispers, her free paw coming up over her mouth. “I…I’m so sorry.”

Tobias feels a lump grow in his own throat, remembering all too clearly how just a week ago he thought Nia might die from her illness. Leaving him alone again.

But Samir shakes their head, as if to correct them. They write again with sharp drags of their hoof.

ALIVE

DIDN’T WANT

Nia frowns. “Didn’t..? You didn’t want them to be your partner?”

Samir winces. Moves to add a single word to the end of their sentence.

“Oh,” Tobias says, quiet. “They…didn’t want you.”

Samir goes still, staring down at their hoof still poised to write. Their face is hard and almost blank. A practiced kind of expression.

“What?” Nia whispers. “But…why wouldn’t they want you as a partner? You’re like the perfect Seeker! You take your job seriously and you’re observant and nice and—“

Samir looks her dead in the eye, an uncharacteristic spark of hurt in their expression. Then, they tilt their chin up and pat the flat of their hoof against their neck, twice.

At this angle, Tobias can see the edge of a large scar peeking out from the mane of leaves around their throat, even in the darkness. Still pink—relatively fresh. A few months old, if that.

Tobias’ hand drifts up to his own scarf.

“They didn’t want to be your partner because you can’t speak?” Nia asks, clearly bewildered.

“I think they were partners, when Samir lost their voice,” Tobias rasps.

The skiddo nods once at Tobias, looking even more tired than usual.

If that was supposed to soothe Nia, it only does the opposite. Tobias can feel her fur bristle against his side.

“What?!”

Tobias shushes Nia, glancing below them at the dark path.

Nia lowers her voice, but is no less incensed. “You were already partners and they just…gave up on you because you got hurt?”

Samir nods. The skiddo’s discomfort is clear enough that even Tobias is about to elbow Nia and urge her to drop it.

But Nia lunges forward, free paw slapping to the dirt. “That’s terrible!”

Samir looks surprised by the heat of Nia’s comment, leaning back and blinking at her.

“What kind of partner—heck, what kind of decent person does that?!” Nia fumes. “What, they couldn’t learn freakin’ Morse code or something? What a stupid excuse!”

Samir frowns at Nia, but looks more frustrated than anything. They shake their head and hurriedly scribble something in the dirt.

MISSIONS TOO FAST

HAVE TO TALK

Well, it would be a bit difficult to communicate in the middle of a fight without speech. Especially when Samir can’t even use sign language thanks to their hooves.

But Nia fervently shakes her head. “No! No, that’s—don’t make excuses for them. We’ve been communicating with you just fine for days and we literally just met you!”

Tobias’ brows lift. She does have a point. He looks back to Samir.

The skiddo’s eyes narrow. They huff, writing again and underlining the last word with an angry jab of their hoof.

WRITING SLOW

MISSIONS FAST

Nia huffs, crossing her arms. “There are other ways to communicate besides talking, even in the middle of a mission.”

Samir gives Tobias a wide-eyed look, clearly hoping for backup. Tobias just lifts his hands in surrender.

“She insisted on partnering with me. And I used to be even more of a jerk than I am now. Good luck.”

Samir’s mouth twitches like they’re fighting a smile. Before they can write a rebuttal, their ears prick to attention. They snap their head up, looking towards the path to town. Nia’s gaze follows the skiddo's, her own ears tilting forward.

They must hear something. Tobias double-checks that his tail flame is hidden.

“This isn’t over,” Nia promises—threatens?—with a point of her finger at Samir. The skiddo gives her an unimpressed look and bats her paw away with a hoof. Tobias shushes them both.

Sure enough, a half minute later, movement catches Tobias eye. It's hard to make out in the darkness, but as the shape gets closer Tobias recognizes a smaller figure, likely just a bit bigger than himself. Bipedal. They’re in a cloak, hood up, which is suspicious in itself.

The figure picks their way across the rocky terrain and starts the climb up to the mine, just a few feet away from their hiding spot. Tobias holds his breath, Nia and Samir still as stone at his sides.

The figure disappears over the lip of the rocks, into the cave, and silence falls again.

“Should we follow them?” Nia murmurs.

“Let’s give ‘em a minute or two. Make sure they don’t just come back out.”

They wait, tense and gazes locked onto the yawning darkness of the cave. Tobias’ breath leaves him in a quiet cloud of steam. His heart beats steady and swift against his chest.

“Okay, they’ve gotta be doing something in there,” Tobias whispers. “Let’s check it out. Just be ready for a fight.”

Nia slips out from the hiding place first, and Tobias moves to follow. Samir stops him, stepping in his path with a shake of their head.

“What?” Tobias asks.

Samir frowns, then writes something in the dirt. Tobias glances again at the cave before pulling his tail closer to read it.

STAY

TAIL BRIGHT

Tobias’ face flushes, and he flicks his tail self-consciously behind him. “I can’t just let you two go in there alone!”

Nia gives him a sympathetic look. “Sorry Tobias, but, uh…Samir’s got a point. If we’re trying to be subtle, then your tail is pretty noticeable.”

Tobias huffs, crossing his arms. They’re right. Doesn’t mean he has to like it.

“Fine. I’ll wait outside. But call for me if anything goes wrong.”

Nia gives him a smile and a nod. Samir leads the way down to the cave, peering cautiously around the edge of it. After a beat, they slip inside. Nia treads after him on quiet paws, blending into the shadows with her blue and black fur.

Tobias stands just outside the cave, off to the side to avoid being a literal beacon, and strains to listen for any sign of a fight. He doesn’t doubt Samir's (or Nia's) capabilities, but he doesn’t like his partner going in there without him if there’s a potentially dangerous criminal lurking about.

Thankfully, it’s only a minute or so before Nia jogs back to the opening. She looks perplexed, but not panicked.

“We can’t find anyone.”

Tobias frowns. “But the tunnel’s blocked off.”

He follows the riolu in, glancing up at the roof and from side to side as they walk deeper. It only takes a minute for them to reach the same spot they’d hit this morning, with the caved-in tumble of rocks and dirt and the broken-down mine cart. Sure enough, there’s no one here but an equally unsure Samir.

Tobias turns around, suspicious. “They couldn’t have just vanished!”

“Could a ghost type do that?” Nia asks, feeling around the rocky walls again. “Turn invisible or go through the cave-in or something?”

“I don’t think so,” Tobias murmurs, glancing at Samir for confirmation. The skiddo seems like they’re barely listening, also nudging around rocks and debris. Still, they take a moment to meet Tobias’ eye and shrug. Helpful.

Nia has made her way back over to the mine cart, peering behind it. “Tobias, can you come here for a sec? Maybe the lantern moved.”

He moves to her side, pulling his tail around and look into the dark wedge of space where they’d found the lantern this morning. But all Tobias sees are the imprints in the dirt.

“It’s gone,” Tobias confirms.

Samir steps past him, leaning down to sniff at the imprints. Then, their head tilts ever so slightly, looking instead at the nearest wheel of the mine cart like something caught their eye. Nia crouches to inspect it too.

Tobias follows them, brows shooting up as he notices what they have. There’s a faint line in the dirt behind each wheel: drag marks where the cart was scooted over a foot or so before being dragged back into place.

“Oh, good find!” Nia says.

“The cart was moved?” Tobias asks.

“Should we look underneath?” Nia asks in return. She doesn’t wait for an answer, lying on her belly to peer beneath the cart. She slips a paw under and a faint blue light spills out at she uses her aura to take a look.

She gasps. “There’s a hole under here! Big enough for someone around our size to fit through.”

“Sneaky,” Tobias murmurs. “Help me move it.”

“W-We’re following them down there?”

Samir shakes their head, expression hard. The skiddo writes a quick note in the dirt.

DANGEROUS

GET CALDER

“Samir’s right,” Nia says, shifting uneasily. “We don’t know if this’ll turn into a fight or what’s waiting for us down there.”

But if they go get Calder, will he just insist on taking a look himself, without their help? What if Rosalind and Granite don’t count that as Team Scarlet solving the problem, and don’t give Tobias the information they’ve worked so hard for? What if this is nothing malicious and they’re kicked out of town for trespassing in the mines before they really can solve the earthquake issue?

Tobias’ stomach sinks at the thought.

“We'll just take a quick look,” Tobias says.

Samir gives a quiet stomp, shaking their head and glaring at Tobias. They underline the word DANGEROUS in the dirt.

“Samir’s right—we don’t know what’s down there,” Nia hedges, clearly wanting to keep the peace. “Maybe Calder will let us help investigate?”

“And if it’s not connected to the quakes and we’re kicked out of town instead?” Tobias presses, trying to sound rational instead of desperate. “It was only one ‘mon! We can take ‘em if they put up a fight.”

Samir huffs and shakes their head again, but Tobias can tell he’s winning Nia over. He feels a bit bad taking advantage of the riolu’s peacekeeping nature, but he can't risk the possibility of them failing this mission and missing out on Rosalind’s info.

“I’m going,” He decides. He presses his back to the cart and leans his weight into it. “You two can wait up here if you want.”

Samir snags Tobias’ scarf with their horn, yanking him away from the cart. Tobias hisses and swipes at the skiddo until they back off.

“Don’t touch that! You aren’t stopping me!” Tobias growls, a few embers climbing up his throat. He clutches at his scarf protectively.

“Don’t fight!” Nia says, stepping between them. She looks back and forth, nibbling on her lip. “O-Okay, how about we just take a peek, see if we can see anything. Then we can go tell Calder if it looks suspicious.”

Samir is clearly as unhappy about that compromise as Tobias is, but neither one offers a protest.

Nia joins Tobias in pushing back against the cart, just until it rolls a foot or so across the dirt. They try to take it slow to avoid the old rusted metal squeaking too loudly.

When it’s pushed aside, Tobias holds out his tail to see a fairly large hole dug into the ground, just as Nia said. A fraying rope ladder is staked into the dirt at the top, leading down into impenetrable darkness.

“Looks inviting,” Nia says weakly.

Samir huffs, tapping their hoof to one of their previous words in the dirt.

CALDER

Panic gnaws at Tobias chest, and he tries to keep it out of his words as he says, “This could still be something completely unrelated. Let’s just go down to check it out.”

Nia wrings her paws. Samir stares at Tobias with a hard gaze, clearly understanding exactly what it is that Tobias is doing.

“Look, you two don’t have to come with me, okay?” Tobias grumbles, rolling his eyes. “I’ll go check it out myself.”

Tobias doesn’t give Nia or Samir the chance to stop him. He swings himself over the lip and puts his weight down on the first rope rung, feeling it dip under his foot.

“Tobias!” Nia whisper-shouts, clearly freaking out. “Stop! W-We should really go get Calder.”

“You two go get him,” Tobias says, easing his way down one step at a time. “I’m checking it out.” And hopefully whoever he finds will be weak enough for him to handle on his own.

Nia whimpers something under her breath. Then, the rope ladder sways and jerks with a movement not Tobias’ own. He looks up, not entirely surprised but very relieved to see Nia stepping down after him. He wasn’t going to force her to follow him, but he had a feeling she wouldn’t let him go alone.

Tobias continues his descent, taking the next few rungs step by step. The rope creaks under their weight.

The ladder suddenly jerks, a bit rougher than before, and Tobias’ head snaps up again. But Nia is looking up too, lighting a ball of aura in her paw and holding it up as she whispers, “Samir?”

Tobias can barely see the vague silhouette of Samir clumsily making their way down the rope ladder after them, making the ladder sway and shake as they try to hook their legs around the rungs.

Tobias feels more of the nervous weight on his shoulders melt away. A small part of him feels guilty for basically forcing the other two to follow him down, but he shoves it away and continues on. This is important. They’ll be fine with all three of them.

They go lower and lower, drowning in tense silence. The walls of the tunnel close in on them, dark and stifling all sound. Tobias is grateful for his tail flame, letting them see where their footing is.

Finally, Tobias sees a faint glow of light below. He hurries his steps, gripping hard to the rope as Samir’s clumsy movements rock the ladder.

Tobias touches down on cold dirt in a small, enclosed space. As Nia follows, hopping to the ground and helping Samir down the last few steps, he turns.

The smaller space opens up to a much larger, much brighter cavern that is bathed in a low, rosy light. He steps into the cave, craning his head back to take it all in.

Much like the tunnels under the Lexym Guild, the dirt and rock of the cavern is lit by chunks of crystal sticking out of the walls and floor, embedded in both large and small chunks. Some are a deep pink, and some are a golden yellow. Tobias takes a step closer to one to touch it, startled by the warmth at his fingertips.

They almost seem...familiar, in a way. After a moment, he realizes where he’s seen them before. These must be the crystals used in weather-lengthening battle items, like heat rocks and smooth rocks. Huh.

“Tobias!” Nia whispers.

He turns, something in his partner's voice putting him on edge. Nia is hurrying closer to him, staring nervously at the opposite wall of the cave. It’s only after Tobias catches movement flashing along its surface in patches that he realizes what he’s looking at.

“Mirrorstone?” He asks, cautiously moving closer to investigate.

“I thought Granite said the town ran the mirrorstone supply dry,” Nia murmurs, following.

“He did,” Tobias confirms, frowning as he reaches out to touch one of the stones. It’s cool, its reflection clear enough that he can see the minuscule scales of his skin this close up.

Nia whimpers and tugs at Tobias’ arm. He gives her a look.

“It’s a reflection, right?” She whispers. “W-What if Giratina can see us through there?”

Tobias’ heart skips a beat. He hurriedly steps back and away from the wall, Nia stumbling along with him. Samir, who had followed them over, looks between them and the wall, clearly alarmed by their reaction.

“Maybe he can’t find us down here,” Tobias says, more out of a desperate attempt at reassurance than any actual faith in the thought.

Nia doesn’t answer, which tells him he didn’t quite sell it.

Before anyone can say anything else, there’s a distant shout, echoing into the cave. Tobias’ head snaps up to follow the noise, only now noticing the large tunnel dug into one of the walls, leading off to the side and around a bend.

Almost immediately after, the ground beneath them, around them, above them, begins to shake. Tobias curses and grabs onto one of the larger chunks of crystal. Nia huddles against him, and Samir braces against them both.

Tobias fears this will be another big quake, but it only lasts a few seconds, and it doesn’t rip apart the ground like the earthquake that hit Deidra’s saloon. This one feels more gentle, quickly petering off into stillness once again.

It’s not until a second voice, deeper and louder but still indistinguishable, sounds off from the same direction that Tobias registers the vibration for what it likely was.

That wasn’t a quake, was it? It was a Pokemon moving. Digging around beneath the earth.

Tobias shuffles closer to the opening of the tunnel, ignoring Nia’s quiet protest. His eyes trace the walls of it as it leads away from the cavern.

While the cave they’re in feels naturally-made, what Tobias can see of this tunnel looks more…artificial. There are huge, rhythmic grooves set into the walls, and many of the gems embedded into the surface are cracked or sliced in half. As if something very, very big dug this tunnel. Burrowed right through the earth and stone with ease.

Nia and Samir follow his gaze, and Tobias can see them piecing it together as well. Nia’s ears pin to her head, and Samir takes a cautious step backwards.

“C-Could the Pokemon we saw do all this?” Nia asks.

Tobias swallows. The distant voices are audible again. Voices, plural. There’s definitely more than one Pokemon down here with them.

Tobias takes a step towards the voices. Samir grunts and hurries to stand in front of him, head lowered and horns pointing straight at his face. The message is clear.

“W-We should really go get Calder,” Nia whispers in agreement, glancing up at the tunnel walls again. “We don’t know what kind of Pokemon is up ahead.”

They’re right. Tobias knows they’re right.

But the thought that somehow, someway, if they don’t take these guys down all on their own then they won’t get the info that Rosalind promised as a reward…

That thought fuels the determined fire in his chest.

“I’m checking it out,” Tobias says, stepping around Samir.

“Tobias!” Nia grabs his arm, yanking him to a stop. She looks scared. “Please, we can go get help and come back. We—“

“Have to figure this out on our own,” Tobias hisses, pulling his arm free. “If Rosalind doesn’t think we carried our weight, she might not…this trip can't have been for nothing, Nia!”

“It wasn’t for nothing!” Nia snaps, blinking back tears. She glances down the tunnel, then back at him with a frown. “We’ve helped so many people in this town, Tobias! That’s not nothing!”

“But it’s not what I came here for,” Tobias growls.

Before she or Samir can argue further, he spins and hurries as quietly as he can down the tunnel, to the next bend in the path. His reflection follows him in the corner of his eye, showing bits and pieces of his visage in the patches of mirrorstone embedded into the walls.

Nia, of course, follows, though her distress is palpable as she alternates between shooting the walls nervous glances and giving him a pleading expression. Samir hesitates farther back, glancing over their shoulder as if considering going to town to grab Calder. But then they shake their head, visibly angry, and follow.

Tobias checks that the coast is clear, the voices a bit louder but still a bit of a ways away. Then he hurries forward again, stepping carefully around sharp, broken stone and crystal.

He slows considerably as the voices grow in volume. The yellow glow of a lantern—probably the one they’d found this morning—paints the cave walls ahead in a slightly brighter light that winks and gleams in the pieces of mirrorstone. Tobias can hear the voices grow louder and sharper as they approach. One of them, the higher one, sounds vaguely familiar. The second voice with the much deeper tone is completely unknown.

Tobias peers around the edge of the tunnel. After a moment, Samir huffs and ducks under Tobias’ arm. Nia leans lightly against Tobias' back to peer over his head.

Ahead, in another open cavern, are two Pokemon. The figure they'd followed into the tunnels has pulled down their hood, and Tobias recognizes the dark pointed ears and turquoise fur even from behind. Eddy, the dewott construction crew manager.

Facing Eddy, dwarfing his form, is a massive silver face. It’s peering out from the darkness of the tunnels with a heavy jaw of blocky teeth and black-rimmed eyes. The cavern's colorful stones and the lantern’s light reflects off the Pokemon’s thick metallic hide.

“A steelix,” Tobias murmurs, a nervous chill rolling down his spine. Now that's a Pokemon who can cause some damage. Guess they know for sure who dug these tunnels now.

Tobias' eyes trace the heavy split of a scar cracking through the steelix's shell, starting over the Pokemon's left eye and trailing all the way down to his jutting lower jaw. The blood red color of that iris is dulled slightly, clearly damaged from whatever left such a mark.

“You almost took me out with that quake yesterday!” Eddy is snarling, paw waving. “Half of Deidra’s saloon came down!”

The steelix snorts, kicking up dust and grit with his breath. “You asked for destruction. I gave you destruction. Not my fault you can’t watch your own tail. Sounds to me like I’m just doing my half of the job.”

Well, there’s the confirmation they were looking for. So these two are working together to cause destruction aboveground? Who even is the steelix? Tobias knows he would remember seeing him around. Not easy to miss a ‘mon that big.

“Can it. Unless you suddenly figured out how to use rain dance, the quakes won't cause half as much damage without me. Heck, remember that I’m the whole reason this operation even works! You wouldn’t get paid without me.”

The steelix rumbles something in response, looking irritated, but Tobias is occupied decoding that information.

Getting paid? The construction crew is making big bucks repairing all of the damages from the quakes, but could money really be the motive behind this?

Pokemon died due to these quakes. And Eddy just…doesn’t care?

Tobias almost doesn’t want to believe it, but the dewott basically admitted it himself. And Eddy is a water type—it would make sense he would know rain dance, would be able to loosen up the soil so the “quakes” do as much damage to the buildings’ foundations as possible. Add on the steelix tunneling around down here right under the town, and they don’t even need moves to cause massive, devastating damage.

Suddenly, Tobias recalls a few moments from the past couple of days in a new light. Eddy turning them away from interrogating Cody, redirecting their investigation when they were getting too close to the real culprit. The dewott slapping down an obscene amount of poké at Deidra’s saloon. Eddy telling his crew so confidently that there won't be any more rain for a while.

Nia’s paw, balanced on his shoulder, tightens. He has a feeling she’s thinking of the same thing. All the clues they missed.

Meanwhile, Eddy and the steelix are still arguing. The dewott is saying something about bringing in more ‘mon to help mine the mirrorstone in these caves and outsource it to another location. He really does only care about the money, doesn’t he?

Tobias stuffs down his anger and pulls back, glad when Nia and Samir quietly follow his lead. His partner stares at him with a pleading, desperate look. Samir glares at him, clearly telling him this won’t end well if they attack.

Tobias hates it, but he knows the skiddo is right. As much as Tobias wants to rip into these jerks, he knows logically that they need to get out of here and get backup from Calder, threat to Rosalind’s info or not. Tobias is confident they could take Eddy in a fight, especially with Samir’s advantage over the water type. But a seasoned steelix, big as a building and powerful enough to burrow so easily through the desert earth? Even Tobias can admit they aren’t ready for that.

But as if the universe itself were out to spite Tobias for such a thought, a pebble slips from the wall they’d just been leaning against. It bounces to the ground, impossibly loud. Tobias freezes, Nia and Samir going wide-eyed and still as well.

Eddy and the steelix fall silent.

Tobias holds his breath, glad that they’d at least ducked back around the lip of the tunnel.

Until he glances up, to one of the clusters of mirrorstone embedded into the tunnel wall across from them. In its reflection, he can see Eddy and the steelix around the corner, clear as day.

Which means the crooks can see them, too.

It’s quiet enough for Tobias to hear the dewott hiss, “Thought I heard something. Take those brats out or we both go down.”

“Run!” Tobias barks, shoving Nia back the way they came. Samir bolts ahead of her.

Behind them the steelix growls and gives chase, making the walls of the tunnel shake. Tobias doesn’t dare look over his shoulder, sprinting as hard as he can and willing Nia not to trip over one of the rocks embedded in the uneven ground.

Somehow, they make it back to the cavern with the rope ladder. Samir is hopping impatiently from hoof to hoof at its bottom. Stupid self-sacrificing grass type, waiting to start climbing after Nia and Tobias so they don’t slow everyone down.

Nia’s ahead of Tobias, longer legs at work, and for a moment Tobias thinks they’re going to make it. It’s Samir—suddenly stopping their nervous movement, confused eyes trained over Tobias’ shoulder—that clues him in that something is wrong.

And Tobias realizes too, once he notices the lack of noise through his lung-ripping gasps.

Why is it so quiet?

Tobias glances over his shoulder, only to see…nothing. No one chasing them. There are only the faint vibrations of the tunnels. Growing stronger, shaking, and then—

The ground beneath their feet crumbles and cracks.

Nia yelps and Samir hurries to her side to steady her. Tobias curses and stumbles, gritting his teeth against the painful tilting of the attack. And this time it is an attack. Tobias can feel it, feel the ground type energy assaulting his very being.

Then, the ground isn’t just shaking and cracking, it’s opening up beneath him. A yawning maw of black that swallows him whole and steals the breath from his lungs.

[unknownperson246]

a/n: Hiii! I really enjoyed I need you! Could you write a part 2 of that story and maybe the reader gets in trouble with Duff and he grounds her so she can't see Izzy but then she sneaks out and goes to Izzy's house and they get a little freaky? I don't know, you can take it however you want! No rush at all! 🫶

hiii

Modern Izzy Stradlin: I Need You Part 2

Words: 986

warnings: *smut* *p in v* *daddy kink* *dirty talk*

✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ:*

Your dad came barging into your room yelling about Izzy. Your mom came home that night seeing Duff in a really bad mood. She tried to comfort Duff but she did not interfere with the situation. 

“What the hell was that Y/N. I thought I trusted you but I guess not. You slept with Izzy.” Duff said, pissed off.

“Well duh. He was sexy.” You said smirking while putting your shoes on.

“Where are you going?” Duff asked, still annoyed by what you did. 

“I’m going to see Izzy.” You said.

“No, you're not. Do you know why? Because you're grounded” Duff said while he was rummaging through your room to find anything he could take away from you as a punishment. 

He found your iPad and your computer and decided to take those away. 

“You only have your phone. I’m not taking that in case there is an emergency. Oh, and I’ll be checking your messages while you're grounded.” Duff said looking for other stuff that was important to you.

Duff took the keys to your car.

“But I’m 18. Don’t you think that’s a bit too much?” You asked Duff.

“Don’t you think it’s a bit too much that you slept with Izzy?” Duff asked. 

You scoffed in annoyance.

“Excuse me. Did I hear attitude come out of your mouth?” Duff was angry. 

“No,” you said and Duff left your room glaring at you.

You knew you had to do something. You weren’t gonna sit still and be a good little girl for dad. You were going to go and rebel. You were tired of your dad not acknowledging you as a responsible adult. You could do whatever you wanted now but Duff did not want to let his little girl go. You climbed down your window. Last time Izzy visited he put his address on a note and slipped it under your pillow. 

You had found it the next morning when you were setting your bed that was still fresh with his musky cologne. You grabbed your spare car keys that were hidden under your bed. You got in your car being careful of your surroundings making sure Duff wasn’t watching you. You drove to the address that was written in his perfectly sloppy handwriting. You waited in your car for a bit to collect yourself.

His house was small. You knew that he wasn’t really satisfied with the lavish lifestyle. All he cared about was his guitar and how he could do whatever he wanted with his life. You went to knock on his door. After a few moments, he opened it. 

“Y/N?” He was surprised.

“Hi, come in. It must be freezing outside and you don’t have a jacket.” He said pulling you into his warm environment. 

“Your house. It’s nice.” You said smiling.

He pulled you towards his couch. 

“You look cold,” Izzy said.

“Are you here for me to warm you up?” Izzy smirked.

“Well maybe.” You got on his lap. 

“I had an idea I couldn’t share last time because we were in a rush.” You said.

“I want to ride you.” You whispered in his ear.

“Wow you dirty little thing,” Izzy said before starting to unclothe you. 

You could feel the bulge underneath his pants starting to grow. You wanted him so badly and Izzy could see it.

“Where’s my surprise?” Izzy asked you remembering from last time.

“I said next time you visit me I will surprise you. So I guess you're just going to have to sneak into my room and I’ll give it to you honey.” You bit his earlobe after explaining.

“Fuck.” He chuckled.

“Well, at least I tried.” He smiled.

He immediately started to kiss you and you both made out. You took his shirt off that fit so perfectly on his body. You took the back of his neck and made his head move closer to you. Izzy kept complimenting your body.

“You're so perfect.” He panted while he was stuffed inside of your quivering cunt. 

“I can feel how wet you are for me.” Izzy laughed.

You shoved his hard member inside of your pussy and started to ride him. His hands were on your hip and you felt the buzz. You were getting needy and desperate for him so you started to go faster. 

You felt his huge cock grinding against the walls of your wet pussy. You felt his tip hitting your cervix each time you bounced. You were afraid your cervix was going to bruise.  

“You make me go crazy.” You said to Izzy as you forced yourself to bounce up and down on his hard cock. 

You once again started to kiss his neck and his bare chest. 

“I love it when you do all the work and I get to sit here and watch you while you please me,” Izzy said, patting your hair.  

“Almost there, Izzy.” You said before you started to squirt.

“Fuck” you gasped as you squirt all over Izzy’s lap. 

“Did that feel good sweetheart?” He questioned you. 

“Yeah it did Daddy” you whispered in his ear.

“You like calling me that? Do you call me that when I’m not around?” Izzy smirked as he asked you. 

“Certainly” You kissed his lips to stop him from talking anymore.

Your eyes locked with his and you came. You had several orgasms while you had your encounter with Izzy. You both finally were pleased with the amount of activity you both did today and you fell asleep in his arms knowing you were safe from any danger. 

Izzy carried you to your car and drove you home. You woke up in bed wondering if going to Izzy’s place was just a dream. You felt something in your bra. It was another note. You pulled it out and recognized it. 

“Had fun today.” It was written sloppily above his perfect signature. 

[jaggedamethyst]

circuit breaker 🔬🌌 (part three)

tutor!jayce talis x reader college au

content: adding tutoring to an already packed schedule has gotten overwhelming. there's so much to do, yet not enough time, it seems.

pining (but im not saying who lmaooo), mentions of mental health (panic attacks, anxiety, etc).

notes: hiii. i am addicted to writing for this i fear so don't be surprised if i just keep updating randomly. i've also just started school so this is all in my free time!! but chat...its about to get good af *smiles mischievously*

word count: 1.2k

series masterlist

⭑·ﾟﾟ·*:༅。.。༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅。.。༅:*·ﾟﾟ·⭑

You didn’t enjoy this, scrambling for the countless time today to make a meeting. Even more so, you hated the idea of being late to see Ekko, again. He was always so empathetic—understanding. Even if he was upset with you, and you knew he was, he would never make you feel bad about it. He understood things happened. 

It didn’t stop you from speeding into the dining hall and turning to your usual table in a complete frenzy, though. “Ekko, I am so sorry. Time literally got away from me today.” 

He grips a chain he’d been holding, a locket at the top, and pushed it back into his pocket quickly. “It has a way of doing that…time I mean.” 

You sat down, immediately feeling way worse than you already had. “I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be, I’m sure you had a reason, right?” 

“Yes,” you sighed. “I was at tutoring with Jayce. We went over vectors and I finally understand it better.” 

His eyes lingered on the table, “Mm.” A hum from him, seemingly half paying attention. 

“Mm?” You mimicked the sound he made, “What’s mm?” 

“It’s just that I definitely could’ve helped you with that…being a STEM major and all…” 

“I know that…of course I know that but-“ 

He cracked a smile, “I’m joking.” 

You couldn’t help the smile on your face, the lightheartedness finally returning to you both. “I hate you, truly.” 

“You don’t…and that’s okay! I’m extremely lovable.” 

You nodded sarcastically, “Sure, I’ll let you keep believing that.” You looked around, finally taking in how desolate the dining hall actually was. It was a bit after peak hours now, considering you showed up a bit later than normal. A yawn escaped you, then, the day catching up to you. 

Ekko perked up a bit, “You hungry?” 

You tilted your head, “Always.” 

He turned to grab a paper bag from inside his backpack—pushing it across the table to you. Your order down to the sauces, no tomatoes, extra pickles. 

“Oh my gosh, I love you so much Ekko…you’re actually the best.” 

He watched you inspect the bag, each little detail perfect. There was a glint in your eye; it was rather humorous that it was about food, but he appreciated it nonetheless. 

You weren’t looking at him, but he was locked in on you. A genuine and soft look was on his face. “I love you…too.” 

The fries you were eating fully occupied your mind and nothing besides the comfort of your bed could get your mind off of them. Ekko didn’t say much after, letting you eat in silence before offering to walk you back to your place. The sounds of the busy city filled the space between you, him occasionally ushering you ahead with a soft nudge. Neither of you spoke until you were outside your door. 

You leaned in for a hug, “Thank you…I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

“Yup.” He hugged you back, leaning his head into yours, inhaling deeply. “Tomorrow.” 

“On time,” You pulled away, “I promise.” 

His hands found his pockets, nodding simply. “On time.” 

Exhaustion was creeping up on you. At this point, you had class most days of the week, Ekko meetings daily, and tutoring at least twice a week. On top of all of this, you desperately needed a job. Even with the hours that passed and the rest you got, the looming feeling of doom was making you feel anxious. There was a bubbling thought in you that in a few days time, you might genuinely have a panic attack. The signs were there, a fleeting feeling of irritation—the need to constantly be doing something. If you didn’t you’d be left alone with your thoughts and that never worked out well. 

The next day's hours squished themselves together. Despite the feeling, you plastered on a smile and made your way to do everything you had to. You couldn’t chance anyone, especially Ekko, knowing that you weren’t feeling the best. Yet, the emotion often found you in silent cries. You took the long way to tutoring, walking on side roads you knew never had many people on them. In one ear, you let music play, sinking into the emotion as best you could with the consistent sounds of the world around you. It was best you cry now, you thought. You had to focus during tutoring. 

You didn’t sob, but rather let the tears run freely. The cool sensation helped usually—a way for you to identify that you were present in the moment…in your body. You let your legs carry you to the resource center eventually, mindlessly walking toward the room Jayce had reserved. Truthfully, you were glad to see he wasn’t here yet. 

You got comfortable, wiping your face free of the proof of your small breakdown. You straightened at the sound of footsteps approaching the door. 

“Hey,” Jayce backed into the room, a small bag in his hands. He slowly turned, closing the door behind him. You weren’t looking his way, purposely avoiding his gaze—hiding your reddened eyes. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m good,” a sniffle, “Just had a hard day…lot on my plate.” 

He nodded, sitting across from you. “Well…I guess it’s good I made sure to bring some encouragement then.” You finally looked at him. His face contorted briefly at the sight of you before handing you the bag he walked in with. “Here…this should help.” 

Confused, you reached for the bag. “But-“ 

“I asked Viktor,” he interrupted, “He said you would like some of these.” 

“You really didn’t have to, I was just joking-“ 

“I wanted to,” he spoke quickly before pausing. He looked at you, swallowing the already lessening amount of moisture in his mouth. He needed some water. “Besides, the store was on the way here.” He cut himself off, gulping some of the water from his bottle. 

You didn’t speak, just looking at your favorite snacks in the bag. The gesture was a lot to take in, but it was appreciated.

“Can I say something?” 

You nodded, “Of course.” 

“I kind of relate to you…what you said about school. I have a scholarship, too.” 

“You do?” 

“Yup. It’s just me and my mom and we can’t really afford it.” He repositioned in his chair, “I worked really hard before this…for years to make sure I could get a full ride. I couldn’t stand the thought of putting that burden on my mom. But, when I got here, it was like the burden was on me now, to not fail…you know?” 

“Right…” 

“I don’t want you to feel…you shouldn’t feel like it’s all impossible.” He didn’t acknowledge the way you started to cry a little—he thought better of it and you thanked him internally. Instead, he reached for a paper towel. “Sorry, this is all we have…with the white boards…” 

“Thank you,” you chuckled a bit. 

“So…are you gonna eat any of those or can I have it back.” 

“I might be willing to share.” 

Jayce rubbed his hands together, “That’s what I like to hear!” 

The session was great, as usual. You were feeling even more comfortable—confident enough to take the next physics quiz. 

More importantly, you made it just in time to see Ekko’s look of surprise when you got there before him. 

“On time?” 

“On time.” 

taglist

@juskonutoh @sseleniaa @aerina127 @sleepysoldier @bxxerry

[pinkhearteye]

!!TW!! Yandere, stalking (If you squint ig?), Emotional Manipulation, If i missed any please tell me<3

Yandere Female x reader

The bookstore was quiet, save for the occasional sound of pages turning or the soft creak of the wooden floor beneath your feet. It was your sanctuary, a place where you could escape the chaos of everyday life. Today, you’d nestled into a corner with a stack of books, completely engrossed in your latest find.

Until her voice interrupted.

“That one’s a classic,” she said, her tone warm and honeyed.

You looked up, startled, and found yourself face-to-face with a stranger. She was stunning in an unassuming way, with soft features framed by dark, wavy hair that fell just past her shoulders. Her green eyes sparkled with curiosity as she gestured to the book in your hands.

“Sorry if I scared you,” she added, her cheeks tinged pink. “I’m just… a bit of a bookworm myself.”

“No, it’s fine,” you said quickly, offering her a polite smile. “Do you like this one?”

“Love it,” she said, sliding into the seat across from you without waiting for an invitation. “I’ve read it a dozen times. It’s one of those stories that feels like it’s speaking directly to your soul, you know?”

Her enthusiasm was contagious, and before you knew it, you were chatting like old friends. She introduced herself as Elise, and the two of you spent hours discussing everything from favorite authors to the best places to find coffee in the city. By the time the sun began to set, you realized you hadn’t even noticed how much time had passed.

“I’d love to keep talking,” Elise said as she stood to leave. “Here—give me your number? We can meet up again soon.”

Her smile was so genuine, her demeanor so inviting, that you didn’t think twice. You handed over your phone, and she typed in her number before giving it back with a wink.

“I’ll text you,” she promised.

____________________________________________________________

At first, her messages were sweet and thoughtful. Elise seemed to have an uncanny knack for remembering little details about you, like the way you took your coffee or the obscure author you’d mentioned in passing. She’d send you quotes from your favorite books, or pictures of a cozy reading nook she’d stumbled across.

“Just thought you’d like this,” she’d write, and you couldn’t help but smile.

But as weeks went by, her attention became more… intense. She’d message you constantly, often before you even had a chance to reply to her previous texts. If you didn’t respond right away, she’d send follow-ups, her tone shifting from playful to concerned.

“Are you okay?”

“Did I say something wrong?”

“Please let me know you’re alright.”

When you finally did reply, she’d act as though nothing had happened, flooding you with cheerful messages as if to make up for her earlier worry.

The first time she showed up unexpectedly, it was almost endearing. You’d mentioned being at your favorite park, and minutes later, there she was, holding two cups of coffee and wearing a smile that could light up the world.

“I thought I’d surprise you,” she said, handing you a cup. “I hope that’s okay?”

You’d nodded, a little caught off guard but touched by her thoughtfulness.

But then it happened again. And again. Elise seemed to know where you’d be before you even told her. She’d always have a perfectly reasonable excuse—“I was in the neighborhood,” or “I just had a feeling you’d be here”—but the coincidence started to feel… unsettling.

One evening, as you were settling in at home, your phone buzzed with a text from Elise.

You looked beautiful today.

You frowned, glancing around your apartment as if she might somehow be there. You hadn’t seen her all day.

Were you following me? you typed, your heart pounding.

Her reply came almost instantly.

Of course not! I just saw your picture on social media. You’re so photogenic.

You hadn’t posted anything.

____________________________________________________________

The next time you saw her, you tried to set boundaries.

“Elise, I think you’re great, but… this is moving a little fast for me. I need some space.”

Her expression faltered for the briefest moment before she plastered on a smile. “Of course,” she said sweetly. “I understand.”

But her actions didn’t match her words. If anything, her presence in your life grew more overwhelming. She’d leave little gifts at your door—a book you���d mentioned wanting to read, your favorite snacks, a handwritten note that said, Thinking of you.

One night, you came home to find Elise sitting on your doorstep. She looked up at you with tear-streaked cheeks and a trembling smile.

“I just… I needed to see you,” she said, her voice cracking. “You’re the only one who makes me feel like this.”

Your heart ached at the sight of her so vulnerable, but a small voice in the back of your mind warned you that this wasn’t normal. Still, you couldn’t bring yourself to push her away completely.

_______________________________________________-__________

Over time, you realized the truth: Elise wasn’t just kind or attentive—she was consumed by you. Every word, every gesture, every glance you gave her seemed to fuel her devotion. And while part of you was flattered, another part of you knew this wasn’t healthy.

But Elise didn’t see it that way. To her, you were perfect. You were hers. And no matter how far you tried to run, she’d always find a way to bring you back.

After all, she’d promised.

“I’ll always be here for you,” she’d whispered one night, her arms wrapped tightly around you. “No one could ever love you the way I do. And I’ll make sure you never forget that.”

[fellshish]

genuinely, how do you write for yourself fully?

while i write for myself and post what i want etc. i always get suck on feeling kinda sad afterwards cause i barely get any interactions on tumblr, which i suppose isn’t that bad, but the 50/60 hits on ao3 and only like 5 kudos make me sad. i truly don’t think my writing is awful, like it’s a work in progress especially since english isn’t my native language, but i just always find myself a bit discouraged.

i feel you, anon. it’s rough out there. and it feels so random. like sure i have worked hard on developing my writing the past few years and on kind of building an audience, but i recognise there was also a whole lot of luck involved and i still remember what it was like to receive very little kudos and feeling sad and discouraged. (i will say the feelings of self doubt etc might never fully leave, but that’s a different matter altogether).

i’ll say this: ‘write for yourself’ as a slogan is an empty one if you fully think about it. the only person who truly writes for themself is the one who never publishes (and even they might entertain some kafka fantasies of being discovered after death). the core of ‘write for yourself’ however holds some truth: if you get joy from the act of writing more than the act of receiving positive feedback, you are invincible. if you write what you want to read, and you can look back on your progress? that’s a reason to be proud of yourself, no matter how much engagement you got. you created something out of nothing, you put something out in the world that nobody had put out there before. amazing, right?

but this is fandom. it’s all about engaging, and i don’t mean that in an annoying content creatory way but as a way of human connection. a part of the joy of sharing your art, for free, is making that connection. getting that comment, that kind tumblr reblog. it’s not shameful to admit you like compliments. every fanfic author has a praise kink.

both are true: we write for ourselves and for others. we live in a society etc

now that that’s out of the way, here are my thoughts on getting more readers, more comments, more kudos, and more reblogs — which i think is the core issue of your ask.

to start quite generally: there’s been a decline in reblogging fanworks - including fics - on tumblr, and i think we bear a collective responsibility here to make this a reblogging website again.

and of course your ao3 statistics depend on how big your fandom (still) is. on how good you tag your works, too, because that’s how a lot of readers find fics. on how good a summary you write, on how popular certain tropes or pairings are that you’re into, if you use a sufficient amount of paragraphs for easier reading etc.

also, you say your native language isn’t english? neither is mine. i found it helpful to work with beta readers, some of whom have now become close friends. they improved my english and the content of my fics, and we boost each other’s works. win-win.

i’ll give you the advice i was given a few fandoms ago: engage, too. by leaving comments on other writers’ works, you can build friendships and might get them to click your ao3 name too. by joining discords and reading the fics of the writers there, or by reading a tumblrina’s fic and reblogging it with kind tags, or by signing up for a bang, by writing holiday themed fics if that inspires you, or a fic inspired by an artwork, … basically, by engaging in fandom and making friends and having fun, but also: leaving comments will sometimes mean getting comments in return, too.

to be clear i’m not saying ‘engage with other fans to get comments’. no. engage to experience the absolute joy of fandom, and more kudos / comments / reblogs etc might become a fun side effect.

[enthusiasticharry]

𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓 | 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 10k

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: I'm so sorry!! I know it's been forever since i've posted and i truly did start writing this to have it out in august but then life got a head of me! I had to move, start a new job it's all be crazy. Now, I can officially say that I'll try and post more regularly (but i can't guarantee anything!) thank you for all the support over the last two and a bit years on this fic, i couldn't ever leave it unfinished for you guys!! enjoy the last chapter of regret me and if you need me, i'll be sobbing in a corner somewhere!!

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, talks of drug/ alcohol use, mentions of addiction recovery, angst (i'm sorry), and a stupid little boy who finally realises how amazing he has it.

𝐩𝐥𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝟏𝟗𝟖𝟓 here

Los Angeles, Spring 1985

The Rise and Fall (and Rise Again) of a Rock n’ Roll Star by Christopher Thomas

Standing in front of YN YLN’s home, I was nervous. The house itself wasn’t exactly what one may expect of one of the biggest stars to come out of the 70s – it was homely, comforting and not necessarily a ‘rock star mansion’. My nerves stemmed more consequently from the woman I was meeting; one I hadn’t seen in over 10 years and hadn’t necessarily left the best impression at that time either.

However, the second I rang the bell and the door swung open – the past didn’t seem to matter. YLN was wearing a denim skirt, one that landed just above her knee and a light floral blouse with long sleeves that the singer had definitely worn before, or if not something very similar. We chuckled when I pointed out her footwear (her beloved cowboy boots) – something that wasn’t surprising to me and shouldn’t be to any of you. She invited me in and offered me a coffee – something that I was not going to say no to.

After a little small talk, asking how we’d been and so forth, it became time to get to the nitty gritty of my visit, and what everyone reading had been waiting for. After being a household name for the better part of ten years – YN YLN was finally a Grammy nominee. For someone who had been in the spotlight for so long, many may have thought that she was past her prime and that her eighth studio album wasn’t going to be anything special – and yet it was her best one.

“I think it’s raw,” YLN spoke when asked about what was different with this record from her others, “I stopped hiding. It’s the truth – I think people are appreciating the truth from me.”

There was a part of me which was scared to go forward with questioning from here, but with a quick reassurance from YN that it was okay – I continued. In the last four months since her album had been released, YN had started to open conversations about her addiction, something that I had asked her about years prior, at a time when she was in the wrath of her addiction and refused to comment. Looking back, it wasn’t my best moment as a journalist.

“I had freedom that I hadn’t even experienced before,” The air felt thicker as YLN spoke upon this subject, “I went from 0 to 100, and if it wasn’t for the people around me that loved me at that time, I wouldn’t be here today, talking to you.”

The house YLN lives in sits right on the Californian coast, a quiet and calm place away from the hustle and bustle of the city. Once we had finished our coffees, YN suggested a walk down to the beach. She explains that her best friend, Vivienne (“She’s my sister,”), lives in the next house and that she hasn’t gone a day without speaking to her since the day they met, and she wasn’t going to start now.

“Vivienne is my family. I lost interest in my actual family when I realised they didn’t love me, but Viv never made me miss them – she became everything I needed and more. She saw me as a naïve young girl on the strip without a single clue and helped me when she didn’t need to. I’ll never be able to thank her enough.”

YLN mentions her family, more so her parents Mr and Mrs YLN. Her father, a senator seemingly didn’t agree with her new lifestyle and her music even more so, and it seemed as though whatever her father said her mother agreed with. When I asked if the way they had treated her had anything to do with her addiction, and her subsequent overdose YN went silent, choosing not to comment verbally but physically shrugged her shoulders.

“I don’t regret anything in my life,” YN takes out a cigarette, offering me one which I accept, “I have come to realise that everything happens for a reason, and I’ve loved and lost for a reason. It’s made me the person I am today.”

The last time I spoke with YLN, she was in a relationship with fellow Rock n’ Roll star Harry Styles, who I have also written for in the past. YLN and Styles have never publicly spoken about the reason behind their split, but rumours surfaced soon after that Styles had been the one to cheat on YLN just before her first world tour.

“I would say that for any songwriter, heartbreak can be a big influence,” YLN chuckles, shaking her head slightly, “I won’t say what happened, I think if anyone has listened to any of my records, especially my latest one – you’ll already know what happened. It was one part of my life, and I don’t hold anything that happened against anyone.”

YN asks for a break after this and asks if we can reconvene later in the day. She recommended that we meet at a café for some late lunch that is a mile or so away from her house. I thought, like probably many of you, YLN would return from the beach to her house. Instead, she made her way up the sand and towards Vivienne’s house, obviously needing some time with her best friend.

“I hope that whoever listens to the album finds something for themselves within it,” YN speaks, sipping on her Iced Tea as we sat across from each other in the café, “It’s my gift for everyone. I hope that everyone who has ever had something to say about me or my life listens to it, and it answers whatever questions they may have.”

YLN lists her relationship, her addiction and everything in between as things that people may have questions about. Since the 70s, the amount of information that the public has known about her has dwindled and she says that is for a reason.

“I had to separate my life from the life that people saw,” YLN nods, “To protect myself, I needed that. All I hope is that people weren’t too angry with me.”

Once we’ve eaten (both having burgers since YLN said that it was the best thing on the menu, and both the waitress and the owner knew her by name), we go outside to have another cigarette. We both joked that we would quit smoking one day, but today was not going to be that day.

“I’ll be there… at the awards,” YN responds when I ask her about whether or not she will be attending the Grammy’s, “I don’t necessarily care about winning – it would be lovely, of course, but it’s not going to make or break me. I’ve lasted this long without; I am damn sure I can last for a lot longer.”

As our time together drew to a close, I asked what I suppose myself and many others are wondering – does YN see an end to her career anytime in the future?

YLN chuckled at the question, “I’ll do this as long as I can if the people will have me.”

If it was up to me, I’d say that YLN will be a name that sticks around for years to come. But, I suppose that’s down to you.

“I know your cowboy boots are like you’re thing or whatever, YN, but I highly doubt that it’s the best look for the Grammys,” Vivienne speaks from where she’s laid upon the bed in YN’s hotel room.

“I don’t feel right without them, Viv, I have to wear them,” YN stresses from where she’s sat, having her makeup done.

Pamela snorts from where she’s lying next to Vivienne. Since they met, Vivienne and Pamela have been inseparable. Therefore, that means that Vivienne, Pamela, and YN have been inseparable. It was a package deal, unfortunately for Pamela, but she didn’t mind too much. The things that Pamela did mind though, however that YN not only had a key to their house but would invite herself in pretty much all of the time. It had become the case that waking up in the morning without three people in their bed instead of two was the norm. At first, Pamela would be confused and disorientated, and then she soon realised that was just what the two girls were like. Where there was one, there was the other not too far behind.

“Pam, I’m nearly done and then it’s your turn,” YN stresses, allowing her make-up artist, Claude, to finish the final touches on her makeup.

Pamela groans, dropping back on the bed and pushing herself into Vivienne’s body. The other girl groans but accepts her fate as her girlfriend’s body rests against her. It wasn’t that anyone was forcing Pamela to wear makeup – she knew it was for the best, considering they were about to be on live television, it just wasn’t something that she normally did. But, as much as this was YN’s moment and her first Grammy nomination, it was Pamela’s too – and that meant, in YN’s eyes, she deserved to be spoilt, too. Pamela hadn’t necessarily ever expected her first band to split up, but it was always a possibility. It was a huge life change, and she hadn’t a single clue of what she was going to do once it happened. Then, when YN invited her to the studio and they started to work on some songs together, they both knew that it made sense for all parties involved that Pamela join YN’s band. That has also meant that Vivienne has been the band’s photographer since that moment as well. As mentioned before, the trio are often never seen without each other.

Apart from being the band’s photographer whenever they needed, Vivienne had also opened her gallery – something that she had always wanted to do but never had the opportunity to do.  Seeing her best friend and her favourite person excel in the way that she had done warmed YN in ways that she couldn’t explain.

“Do I have to?” Pamela groaned, pressing her face deeper into Vivienne’s chest.

“Yes,” YN stood up once she had finished, lifting one of the pillows that had been absentmindedly thrown to the bottom of the bed up and hitting the girl with it. It took a few attempts, but soon Pamela had pushed herself up from Vivienne and, with a sulk on her face, sat in the chair, “Thank you. I know you don’t think so, but I’m doing this with your best interest at heart.”

Pamela just groans and crosses her arms over her chest, allowing Claude to get started. Trying her best not to mess her makeup up, YN drops down on the bed next to Vivienne. YN found herself picking at the hole that sat around the wrist of the sweater she was wearing. It was an attempt at not trying to show the nerves that were wracking around her body – but it was difficult, especially when the people in the room were YN’s closest confidants and knew every little tick that the girl had.

“Look,” Vivienne reaches over and grabs YN’s hand, “If you’re nervous about the awards, it’s honestly too fucking unlikely that you won’t win.”

YN snorts, accepting Vivienne’s reassuring squeeze, “Thanks Viv, but I don’t think it’s that.”

“Ah,” The girl nods, “It’s about Harry, isn’t it?”

The announcement for who would be presenting the awards came out a few weeks ago, and whilst YN had originally not thought it was important to know who it would be – it very quickly became obvious that wasn’t the case. When the presenters had been announced, Vivienne had received word of who would be presenting Album of the Year and had immediately rushed over to YN’s house. Being a two-time winner of the award himself (once for Harry’s House, the album that she had written with him), it shouldn’t have surprised YN as much as it did that Harry would be presenting the award.

Knowing that her chances to win were so likely, YN had wondered if it was sort of a set-up. Whoever had decided to ask Harry to do so knew of their past and knew that it would make a lovely bit of new gossip. That was unfortunately where YN’s mind went, and that’s what stressed her out slightly. Especially since her album was so open about her feelings, and even more so about Harry and their relationship – this wasn’t something that she would have ever asked for.

“I’ve just spent so long… so long, Viv, trying to change the narrative of my life,” YN sighs, now starting to pick at the polish on her nails, “And him being there, after I’ve spent so long trying to reclaim my story for me, I’m just scared of how I’m going to react. I don’t want this to be the thing that spirals me right back to the person I was.”

Vivienne sighed, shaking her head, and lifting their joint hands to press a kiss to the back of YN’s hand, “YN… you are not the person you were back then. Trust me, I was right there with you. I mean… God, if that man tries to say anything to me I might lose my shit, but you won’t lose yours. You’ve grown, you’ve matured and most importantly you’ve forgiven yourself. You thought you needed him – but you didn’t.”

YN nodded her head, wanting nothing more than to accept Vivienne’s words and believe them. She hoped she would at least that her face convinced Viv that she was believing her words. The truth was when YN reflected on that time of her life (mostly when she had finished writing her newest record), there were parts of her that wondered what would have happened if she hadn’t reacted the way she had. It was mostly what would have happened to her and Harry if they had handled the situation differently. Because, to YN at that part of her life (and sometimes now) she felt as though Harry was going to be it for her. That she was his, and he was hers.

YN truly did think that she was going to spend the rest of her life with Harry. He saw her and loved her through her hardest times, and yet it was when her life was truly starting to get back on track that she lost her faith in him. It hurt her soul and truly sent her spiralling through the idea that she could only ever be loved when she was broken – and it took her a long time to realise that wasn’t the case.

“It’s just… I think..” YN shook her head, struggling to articulate the words that were swimming around in her head, “My message, especially with this album, is so much more than what we were and what happened to us… I don’t want to lose that.”

“You won’t,” It was Pamela that spoke up this time, from the makeup chair, “You are going to do what you do best, YN, you are going to dodge and dive any of the sleazy questions and hold yourself with grace and fucking win that Grammy. You can even thank him for breaking your heart because it made you stronger, and it made you the person you are today.”

YN smiles, trying her best not to tear up and ruin the makeup that Claude had worked so hard on, “You’re right… it’s my day, not his. And anyway, it’s been so long since we last spoke that I honestly doubt he’s even thought about me.”

“He has,” Vivienne nods, “I know you haven’t listened to his albums – but I have. Trust me, he has.”

“God,” YN’s eyes widen, “Don’t say that! That makes me more nervous!”

Vivienne shakes her head, “No, nope, not letting you do that. Come on, I’m going to do your hair, then you’re going to put your pretty little dress on, and we are going to go and win that award.”

YN knew that it was silly, but if she had these girls behind her – she could do anything she put her mind to.

Chicago, 1975 – 5 minutes after the concert

“YN!” YN didn’t listen to Harry’s calls of her name as she stormed off stage. She had no idea where she was going or what she was doing, but all she knew was that she had to get far away. Far away from Harry, far away from Mary and far away from everyone who would know that something was wrong, “YN! Stop walking away from me!”

“Why would I listen to anything you say anymore?” YN scoffs, wiping the tears from off her wet cheeks. She turned down a hallway and realised that it was a dead end. She stopped and sighed, knowing that she wouldn’t be able to get away from him now – and also that they would have to have this conversation where anyone could hear them.

“I need to explain, YN,” Harry sighs from behind her, but she still doesn’t turn to look at him, “Let me explain, please.”

That’s the thing when you love someone – even when they fuck up, you can’t say no to them. That was what YN was struggling with. This man had hurt her, done something inexcusable to her and yet he wanted her to listen, and she was going to do that. It was just who she was, and it’s just what love is.

YN turned to face Harry, slightly shocked at the sight of his reddened face matching hers, “Explain then. Try and explain what I saw!”

Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair, “It wasn’t what it looked like at all – she came on to me. I would never do this to you, you know that!”

“You only pushed her off because I was there!” YN exclaimed, “To me, it looked like you would have had ample opportunity to walk away, to push her away to say fucking no, Harry, but she was still on you!”

“I tried, YN, I fucking tried,” Harry claimed, clearly becoming more exasperated by the second, “She was coked out of her fucking mind! She was high, and on an adrenaline rush and there was no stopping her without hurting her!”

“Then fucking hurt her, Harry,” YN points her finger in his direction, “You were supposed to be mine. Mine. Not hers. I fucking knew she was up to something, and I never said a word because I trusted you! I trusted you more than I trusted myself.”

“Oh, yeah, right,” Harry shakes his head, “Blame this all on me. Tell me to hurt her and that she was up to something but not once in any of that did you come to me and tell me that!”

“Oh, good one,” YN chuckles, “I didn’t fucking tell you Harry because I trusted you! And I also thought you had eyes and a pretty good eye for this shit. You should’ve fired her months ago, and you know it. The drugs, the booze, the partying – it’s not who you associate with!”

“I associated with you.”

His words stop YN right in her tracks. She couldn’t believe what he was saying to her. She didn’t want to believe what he was saying to her. She had thought that he would’ve never, ever, put her past against her like that and here he was.

“You did,” YN nodded, “You helped me and loved me when I didn’t know I needed that. All I could hope is that you seeing me like that, loving me like that would make you realise that you shouldn’t be around people like that.”

“She’s a good fucking singer, YN, the crowd responds to her. You’re saying I’m just supposed to fire her because she’s an addict? – come off your fucking high horse.”

“No,” YN shakes her head, “I’m telling you that firing her would have been the right option so that she could get help. This life is not the life that addicts need, you and I both know that. You’re enabling her, allowing her delusions to run, and hurting me in the process! You let her get on top of you, let her kiss you. At no point did you think why? Why does she have the confidence to do this to taken man? It’s because she has no inhibitions, no awareness of her actions!”

“So this is all her fault, yeah? Is that what you’re saying?”

“No, I’m saying it’s your fault,” YN took a step forward, pointing her finger against his chest, “You should have realised, you should have put a stop to it. But, now I’m thinking you didn’t want to. Now I’m thinking that you didn’t mind someone coming in and ruining our relationship in this way. I don’t know maybe I wasn’t giving you enough attention, maybe I was getting bigger than you could handle now I’m sober – maybe I don’t ride your dick good enough, I don’t fucking know!”

Harry goes silent, obviously stumped at the girl’s words. Unfortunately for him, that gave YN everything that she needed to know. In her head, all she could think was that he was understanding her, and he wasn’t seeing this from her perspective.

“She hasn’t come in and ruined our relationship, YN,” Harry sighs, shaking his head, “She hasn’t ruined our relationship, you’re the one doing that by not listening to me.”

YN gasps, and that’s it. She lifts her arms and pushes past Harry. He tries to reach out for her, but she pulls away from him.

“YN, you can’t walk away from this,” He calls from behind her, but YN carries on walking. She storms through the hallways, brushing past people lingering in the hallway and hoping that none of them would stop her.

Despite Harry’s calls of her name and the fact that this place is like a fucking maze YN somehow manages to find herself outside. The only problem was Harry had followed her. YN fumbles with her cigarette carton in her pocket and despite her shaking hands she manages to light one.

“Are you finally going to listen to me?” Harry asks, throwing his arms open.

“Are you finally going to listen to me?” She retorts, raising her eyebrow at him.

He shrugs, “What do you want me to say? Sorry? I’m fucking sorry YN.”

YN nods, letting the words settle for a minute. She’d seen this man sorry before, she knew what he was feeling and knew the signs of his true feelings. Whatever he was saying, and trying to express right now she knew wasn’t him. She didn’t know who he was.

“I don’t even know who you are anymore,” YN shakes her head, “I’m going back to the hotel, packing my shit and going home – I’ll see you in L.A.”

YN turns and walks away, ignoring Harry’s calls to her. The fact that he dared to shout that she was the one leaving this relationship and not working on it as she walked away was crazy to her, and yet here he was. She knew that being on the road changed people, but she didn’t think that it would change him this much. He was her everything, and now she didn’t even want to look him in the eye.

There was always a part of her that thought this was too good to be true, and something was going to ruin it. She would be lying if she said that she didn’t think she would be the one guilty of such, but it seems like it was him that caused this and seemingly had little to no remorse for his actions.

As much as it was going to be difficult, she couldn’t let this ruin her tour. More so, she wasn’t going to let it ruin her life. She had worked too fucking hard.

The second that their car arrives on the carpet, YN knows that everything that she was feeling and all of the memories that had been brought to the surface had to be pushed away. This was her night, one to celebrate with her band and her friends and not bring anything from the past up at all.

Out of all of the awards shows she has been to, YN pulled out all of the stops. The dress she had decided upon was a forest green, one which complimented her darkening hair. It had layers and lace, draping around her arms but allowing her figure to be shown at the same time. Vivienne had styled her hair to perfection, just as the girl always does. Even though Vivienne wasn’t a hairstylist by trade, there wasn’t a single person that YN would trust with her hair besides Vivienne. The last and final touch to her outfit was her cowboy boots and despite Vivienne’s protests when she pulled them on – they truly made her feel like herself.

YN isn’t even two metres onto the carpet before a camera is thrust in her face, a reporter standing by, ready to ask her question upon a question that YN had no control over. It was only in the latter years of her career that she found herself truly in the hands of the media. If her name was mentioned before, she wasn’t in a state of mind to know anything of it.

“YN, it’s your first Grammy Awards, how are you feeling? Nervous? Excited?” The reporter asks, thrusting a microphone into her face before she can even think properly.

“Uh,” YN hesitates for a moment before a small smile crosses her lips, “A bit of both of those, I think. It’s an honour to be invited and nominated at that, but it’s also a little nerve-wracking in the same sense. All I do know is that each person who is nominated deserves that win, and even if it isn’t me I’ll still be grateful for the invitation.”

“How do you feel about reuniting with someone from your past today? Harry Styles. I’m sure you’re aware that he’s announcing your category?”

YN’s heart starts to beat ten times quicker, her palms sweating, but she’s thanking God for all of the media training that she’d been given over the years, “I admire Harry so much as an artist, and has won the category twice before – I can’t name anyone more deserving to present the category.”

The reporter doesn’t look too impressed by her answer, but with more thanks to the reporter and a nod from Vivienne, she decides it’s probably time to move on and get inside. YN immediately links her arm with Vivienne’s and tries to calm her breathing down.

“Was that okay? I think I fully blanked for a second there,” YN mutters the second that they are out of earshot of anybody but the two of them, “I honestly think I just spewed absolute shit at them.”

“It was absolute shit,” Vivienne nodded, pushing one of YN’s curls over her shoulder, “But, as far as PR think it was probably absolutely perfect shit.”

The two girls share a giggle. Pamela joins them a few seconds later, having just come out of her interview, and feels a similar level of confusion and delusion to YN. They take some more photos just as they enter the building, and even though there are calls from left and right for photos of YN on her own – she doesn’t stray from her girls. She could’ve, and she knows that in the future, she might regret not having one fully alone on the carpet – but now, the idea of having to stand on her own without Vivienne or Pamela to hold her up was unbearable.

Once they make it inside the building, YN fully intends to beeline straight towards the drinks. She needed something to chug down to get rid of the cottonmouth she currently had. It wasn’t going to be alcohol, and she certainly knew that – but anything would have been better than the feeling that currently was in her mouth.

“Can I have a glass of water, please? Or soda? Or anything without alcohol?” The bartender looks at her confused, as though he wasn’t suspecting anybody to ask for anything non-alcoholic that evening. YN had offered the man a short but sweet smile in thanks, knowing that if she had opened her mouth she might have said something that she would later come to regret, and beelined straight for where Vivienne and Pamela were waiting for her.

“I can wholeheartedly say I have never wished to drink more than I did in that second,” YN mutters with a shake of her head as she stops in front of the two women, “And it’s not for the sake of I wanted a buzz, no it was for the fact that man had sixteen glasses of champagne ready and not a single glass of fucking water!”

“Okay,” Vivienne reached over and placed her hand on Vivienne’s free hand, as the other was currently lifting the glass of water to her lips, “I think the nerves are probably getting the better of us, and drinking is not the solution to that.”

“I’m not going to do it,” YN sighs, dropping the now empty glass back down on the bar, “Have more faith in me than that, it just crossed my mind, that’s all – for ease.”

YN doesn’t notice the partners share a look, one that they both know exactly what that means, and what they are to do. They knew wholeheartedly that this was just YN’s nerves talking, and the second that they got her distracted and sitting down it would all be okay.

“Did I tell you about the man who got in touch the other day?” Vivienne started, immediately realising that she was about to be chatting absolute shit to her friend, but it was better than to let Vivienne sit in a ball of her stress.

“No,” YN shakes her head, accepting another glass of water from the bartender, “What man?”

“Yeah… what man?” Pamela mutters, her entire face pursed with confusion. Vivienne kicks her slightly under the table, “Oh, yeah, that man! How about we walk and talk?”

Vivienne started to rattle on to her about a man who had come into her gallery and asked her question upon question without seeming to be interested in buying anything. It became obvious to YN further on in the conversation that the man wanted to ask Viv on a date, and she had to be the one to break the news that she was in a committed relationship. Even though Vivienne was rattling on, YN knew why she was doing so. It was to distract YN from the thoughts, and more so from the impending reunion that was on the horizon.

Vivienne rattled on until they got to their seats and continued even when they had sat down. It was funny to YN, that these two women would do anything for her, and she would do anything for them – and that included making a story that certainly wasn’t as interesting as they were making it seem so for YN’s sake.

YN was repeatedly kicking herself internally for the fact that every time her eyes darted around the room, there was one person that she was thinking specifically about. The thing that YN didn’t want to face was not being in control when she saw him again. She had learnt so much about how to control herself recently, and that would send her spiralling right back to a place that she didn’t want to be.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” YN spoke once there was a lilt in the conversation, “Don’t want to be needed a piss in the middle of the awards.”

“Okay,” Vivienne nodded, knowing that some time by herself might be what YN needs right now just to centre herself, “Do you need us to come with?”

“No,” YN offers her a smile, “I’ll only be a minute or two.”

When YN weaved her way through the corridors to the bathroom, it was made abundantly clear to her that her time in the bathroom would be spent sitting on a closed toilet rather than doing anything. After a few minutes, she left the cubicle to glance at herself in the mirror and make sure that her makeup and hair still looked okay.

Once she was happy with herself and felt calmer than she did it was the perfect time to make her way back to the awards and hope that it all went smoother.

Just as YN had turned out of the bathroom door, a smile on her face finally – it was made obvious straight away that it wasn’t to last long. That was because standing a few feet away from her was Harry. He was dressed to the nines in a full pinstripe suit, one hand resting in his pocket as he walked towards her.

YN froze completely, unable to move or breathe or simply function. It was a second or so later that Harry noticed her as well, and his movements came to a stop also. His face dropped, just as hers had. It was the first time in ten years that they had been face to face, the last time being the night of her final performance in L.A., when their relationship had ended completely. Even though it had been ten years, when Harry opened his mouth to speak to her, she felt as though she was right back in that moment and that all of the work she had didn’t matter anymore.

“Hi.”

L.A., 1975 – The last performance of YN’s tour

To say that YN was ready for this tour to finish was an understatement.

There was nothing she loved more than performing her songs for the people who loved them – but with everything that was going on behind the scenes, she just wanted to go home and be with Vivienne and Pamela.

Her band had been doing her fucking head in the entire time, not the girls, mainly the boys, but they were all at fault. It was her simple rules, and they seemed to just not understand the consequences of what happens when they break them. It was why for the first time in a while, YN walked into the green room with a certain skip in her step.

The band was lounged around, empty cans and packets of coke on every surface, but YN was past the point of caring. This was their last night together, and she was not embarrassed to say that she was excited to break that news to them.

“Last night,” YN sighed as she dropped down against the sofa, crossing one of her legs over the other (her cowboy boots sat comfortably on her feet), “I didn’t think we’d get here but we have.”

There was a slight chuckle in the room, and then there was a silence. It was a bittersweet moment. This tour had been one of the best and worst times of her life, and there were only so many words in the English language to explain that.

“I’m not one for many words, as you all know,” YN starts before she hears a snigger from one of the boys.

“Unless you’re fucking complaining about some shit.”

A laugh spreads through the room, and even YN is guilty of a smile spreading across her face.

“Normally complaining about you two just being fucking idiots,” She retorts with a smile, “That’s why I’m happy and relieved to say that this is our last show of this tour, and our last show together… because if I ever do this again, it isn’t going to be with any of you.”

For once, the room is silent, and YN feels a wave of accomplishment rush through her veins.

“Now, let’s go and put on the best fucking show of this tour.”

YN turned to walk out of the room, an ever-present smile still resting on her face. Despite what this show was, and what was consequently going to happen because of this – there was at least this positive for her to focus on. As YN prepared to go on stage, standing on the sidelines and hearing the screams and shouts of the people who were here to see her, she realised that nothing was going to ruin today.

“You ready, babes?” Vivienne smiles from behind her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

YN sighs but nods, “I am… is he here?”

Vivienne’s eyes never leave YN’s, but a wave of sadness washes over them, and she nods, “He’s in a green room with his band.”

YN nods. Since that night in Pittsburgh, there’s been no communication between herself, and Harry and she was glad about that. Everything had gone through management, and YN thought that was the best way to do it. It was strange to think that she would be seeing him in the flesh soon, and singing with him once again but it was probably for the best that she hadn’t thought about it at all.

“If you see him, tell him not to be shit,” YN says and Vivienne chuckles, reaching out to give YN’s hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Don’t you worry,” Vivienne shakes her head, “If I see him, I’ll be saying a whole lot more to him.”

YN just rolls her eyes but is appreciative of her friend, and she knows that Vivienne knows that, too. When YN had first called Vivienne to explain what had happened, Vivienne was ready to jump on a flight and speak her mind to Harry. Once YN had gotten over her initial anger at the situation, Vivienne was there for her throughout the sadness, too. When she needed to cry, Vivienne was always there at the end of the phone to be there for her.

The two girls shared one last hug before it was time for YN to go on stage, to finish the tour that might have actually been the hardest thing she’d ever done, but she would be lying if she said that she hadn’t loved it as well.

Telling her band that she was firing them before the last show could have gone one of two ways. Fortunately for YN, it had gone a better way than many would have expected. They were good at what they did, and they all (she was including herself in this) played the best that they had the entire tour. There was an energy from the crowd that was palpable, and it seemed to be wearing off on the band as well as herself. It was a damn good show if she said so herself.

Just as she was coming to the last song on her set, she received a nod from the side of the stage saying that it was time. Time for her to welcome a guest on to stage, and to pretend in front of thousands of people that this man hadn’t just broke her heart.

Once the cheering has subsided, YN tucked her hair behind her ears and addressed the crowd, knowing it was better to do so like she was ripping a band-aid off rather than drawing it out.

“Now, it’s coming up to the point where we have to say goodnight,” YN smiles, hearing a mixture of cheers and boos from the crowd, “And before we do say goodnight, I thought… since it’s the last night of our tour, and you’ve been such an amazing crowd that I’d surprise you all… Now, this guest, he’s someone that’s very special to me. I haven’t seen him, or spoken to him in a while… but he has my heart, and he should always know that… Now, please put your hands together for Mr. Harry Styles!”

There’s a moment where YN doesn’t want to turn to look at Harry, in fact she just wants to ignore that he’s there all together – but she knows she can’t do that. Once she does turn to look at him, she’s shocked at what she sees. It still looks like him, the man that she loved with all of her heart, but he looks worn out, and tired and quite possibly heartbroken.

The band starts to play Cherry and all of a sudden she’s transported back to that night. Everything that happened, everything that he did, everything that she felt rushed back to her body, and flooded every one of her thoughts. It was difficult to keep her composure, and even more difficult not to turn and look at him, but she couldn’t. Not when she had a show to put on, and a tour to finish.

“Don’t you call him [me] baby/ We’re not talking lately.”

As the song was drawing to a close, YN realised that she had to look at Harry. Now that her initial anger and upset had passed, he needed to see how she felt. He needed to see how he had hurt her.

It wasn’t in YN’s plan to change the lyrics, but she couldn’t help herself. A song that Harry and herself had written all those years ago was now resonating in their life in a way that neither one of them could’ve expected.

“Don’t you call her what you used to call me.”

Harry stopped singing when he noticed what she had done, and even with thousands of people in the room it felt as though it was only the two of them, once more, just as it had been on that night. Instead of an anger running through her veins, YN felt sadness, a heaviness. She was grieving the man she knew and the life that she had envisioned for herself because in that moment she realised it was over… for good.

“Thank you all, you’ve been amazing!” YN snapped herself out of her trance and turned back to the crowd, “Thank you for having me, and I’m sure we’ll see you all soon!”

With once last smile and wave to the crowd, YN turned and walked off the stage, leaving her band and Harry standing there. She wasn’t necessarily proud of this action, but it was needed. It was her time to leave this tour, and these feelings in the past – and there was one more thing that she needed to do to ensure that.

“When Harry comes off, tell him to come to my dressing room,” She spoke to Jeff as she walked past him, offering him a small smile as she did.

“Of course.” He replied with a nod.

She paced in the room for a few seconds and then the door opened behind her. She turned, and he was there. It was strange, she had imagined what this conversation was going to be like so many times in her head and now that he was here, she couldn’t think of any of it. All she knew was that she needed to tell him how she felt.

“YN…”

“No,” YN shook her head, biting the side of her lip and resting her hands upon her hips, “I need you to listen to me… and I need you to listen carefully,” There was a slight pause where she had to compose herself from crying, “I love you, and I still love you and I probably always will… but, I can’t do this anymore. I can’t… you couldn’t see it from my perspective, and I don’t know if you ever will, but I know that for myself, I can’t wait and find out.”

“YN…” There were tears in his eyes.

There were now tears in hers, “I will never be able to get that image out of my head, and what you said… It hurt me. I love you and I want you to know that… but we’re over.”

A silence washes over them, as though both of them were coming to terms with what she was saying.

Harry shrugged, “I don’t know what else I can say but I love you.”

“I just saw him,” YN says the second she sits down with Pam and Viv.

Vivienne almost spits out her drink, and Pamela’s mouth drops open, “What do you mean?”

“He was there when I left the bathroom,” YN shook her head, “I just stared at him. I didn’t even say anything.”

“Did he say anything to you?” Vivienne asks and YN nods her head.

“He said ‘Hi’ and then I bolted back here,” YN places her head in the palm of her hands, “I knew that I was going to see him, but I thought it was at least going to be in this room, or when he gets on stage – not after I had a piss.”

Vivienne wraps her arm around YN, “The show’s about to start. Put it out of your mind. You’ve got a Grammy to win.”

That’s exactly what (with a little bit of inner strength) she did. The show started, and awards were given out, and the clock was ticking until it was her category. She kept herself looking cool, calm, and collected to anyone glancing at her, but inside, her heart was racing out of her chest.

“Your next babes,” Vivienne grabbed YN’s hand from the side of her, “Whatever happens, I just want to tell you that I love you and I’m so proud of you.”

YN’s eyebrows lifted, tears collecting in her waterline, “Stop it… or I’ll cry before it even starts.”

“Don’t you worry, babes…” Vivienne squeezed her hand tighter, “I’ll wipe your snot before you go on stage.”

YN rolled her eyes, and the girls shared a chuckle. It was then that the lights dimmed. A round of applause started, and the spotlight hit the stage. Harry was dressed in the same pinstripe suit as she had seen him a few hours before. He stood on the stage, his arms crossed in front of him and a smile on his lips. It wasn’t the smile that YN remembered in her dreams, the one where his dimples and his teeth lit up the world – but it was him.

“As a recipient of this award myself, I am honoured to announce this category today,” he said, cool, calm, and collected, “As much as I’m sure you would all love to hear me chat away, I think it’s probably better for everyone that we get to it. The nominees are…”

YN blanks out as the names are read, but when he speaks her name for the first time in years, she almost melts. It was strange that her body had such a visceral reaction to something that she hadn’t ever thought about before.

“And… the Grammy goes to…” Harry speaks, opening the envelope. It was then that a beaming smile crossed his face, “YN YLN!”

A gasp left her lips, a high-pitched buzz filling her ears. There was a part of her that didn’t believe it, but when she saw Vivienne’s teary-eyed face staring at her – she knew it was real. The girl, who was usually cool, calm and collected was sobbing so forcefully that YN was slightly scared for her.

“I told you, babes!” Once YN pushes herself up from her seat, Vivienne pounces on her in a hug, “I knew it was going to be you!”

“I…” YN shakes her head, her eyes brimming with tears.

“You need to go,” Vivienne places her hands on YN’s cheeks and nods, “Take Pam, and go. Get your fucking Grammy babes.”

YN nods and reaches for Pam’s hand, whose face looks the same as YN does. There was a flash of disbelief as well as pure shock on both the girl’s faces. YN squeezes Pam’s hand as tightly as she can, trying to centre herself as well as be there for the other woman as they walk towards the stage. It’s then that YN hears the clapping from the crowd, and it takes every ounce of strength she has not to burst out into tears.

Then she sees him.

He was standing at the front of the stage, the award clutched in his hand, but at that point, it was almost as though the award didn’t matter. The smile on his face was the one she saw in her dreams when she closed her eyes and thought back to that time of her life. When she doesn’t want to think of the heartbreak or the hardship, when she wants to think of the overwhelming love she felt and had in her body. That was the Harry that she saw standing there, the one who first asked her to come on stage and sing his song with him, the man who gave her everything.

If it wasn’t for Pamela pulling her up the stairs, she would’ve ceased moving altogether. Once she had come to a stop in front of him, he held the award out to her.

“Well done.”

“Thank you.”

That was all she could say before she was pushed in front of a microphone. Pamela tried to slip out of YN’s hand, but she pulled Pamela right to the side of her.

“I hadn’t expected this,” YN chuckles into the microphone, “So I’m sorry if I forget anyone or anything. I think… I want to thank my team, my band, and Pamela in particular, who stayed with me all of those nights when I couldn’t give up and had to finish even though everyone else had left… I want to thank everyone in my life who saw me at my lowest and pushed me to my best. Vivienne. I want to thank you for forever being my best friend, my sister, and my family. This is for you and for everything you’ve ever done for me… and, uh, Harry. I, uh, want to thank you for seeing something in me that night at your show and asking me on that stage… I wouldn’t be here without that. Thank you so much, I’ll keep this forever close to my heart.”

Even though he was standing right next to YN, she couldn’t look at him. When she had given her speech, some thought earlier on in the day, the thought of thanking Harry hadn’t even crossed her mind. Looking back, she assumed it was because she was too nervous to see him that thanking him in her speech hadn’t even crossed her mind. Once she had deemed that seeing him hadn’t been as bad as she expected it to be (minus the stress and also rehashing of memories that she had wanted nothing more than to forget), it was like her brain couldn’t stop the words from coming out of her mouth.

Music started playing around her, and she saw this as her cue to leave the stage. Grabbing Pamela’s hand, she pulled them off the side of the stage, where she guessed that she was going to have her photo taken.

Just as she started to make her way down the steps, she felt something tug the end of her dress, and she nearly went toppling forward down them. A hand grabbed onto her elbow, steadying her. She turned, and there he was, a concerned look on his face.

“Keep going,” He nodded, “It’s okay.”

Then she felt the skirt of her dress lift, and she didn’t have to worry anymore.

“If it was up to me, you would’ve won for your very first,” A man who YN knew as some studio executive was standing in front of her. There was a strong smell emanating from his person, and the empty glass in his hand, YN assumed it was whisky, “It’s the studio’s fault for not nominating you. I would’ve done that straight away. You would be on your fourth, even fifth nomination and win by now.”

“It wasn’t the studio’s fault,” YN offered him with a small smile, trying to be polite and not as though this was the fiftieth conversation she’d had like this since she arrived, “It was mine. I was in recovery. They couldn’t have nominated me even if they wanted to.”

“Oh,” He seemed surprised, “Anyway, if you ever do fancy a switch in studios, gimme a call.”

“I won’t,” YN offers another smile, “But thanks for the offer.”

YN turns, and spots Vivienne and Pamela coming back and drinks it hand. It happens every time they leave or every time they even turn their back on YN for a second. YN was so proud of herself for having won, but if this was what she was going to get from here on out, she was going to have to mentally prepare herself for such.

“Here is your water, winner,” Vivienne passed her the glass with a smile on her face, and YN rolled her eyes at the girl’s antics.

“Are you going to stop with that already?” YN accepted it and placed the chilled glass against her face, flushing from the heat in the room.

Vivienne shrugs, “I will… once the novelty has worn off.”

YN just rolls her eyes and shakes her head, “I’m going outside for a cigarette, it’s too hot in here.”

“Okay, winner,” YN shakes her head once more, seeing as though Pamela had decided to join in on her girlfriend’s antics as well.

“You’re a winner too, Pam, don’t forget that.”

YN placed a kiss on Pam and Viv’s cheeks before making her way towards the glass doors that opened to a balcony. They were at some fancy hotel that YN assumed she had been at before in her life but couldn’t remember either due to being high or so exhausted that she didn’t know where she was. Once she stepped outside, though, she realised that she had been here before, and it was on neither one of those occasions. It was after that tour had ended, the one where she had broken up with Harry. There had been a party to celebrate the end, and it was here. YN only remembered the view because instead of being inside celebrating, she had been out here, sitting watching the skyline pass by her.

YN pulled her cigarettes out of her bag, slipping one between her lips and lighting it. It seemed like a coincidence that she was here now after so much had changed. She stood, leant against the railing just as she had that night prior, and looked out at the skyline – this time a Grammy winner, but she would not say any less heartbroken.

“Congratulations,” YN didn’t jump at the sound of a voice behind her, but her eyes closed when she realised who it was, “I didn’t get to say that before.”

“You did,” YN mumbles, exhaling smoke as she did so, “On stage.”

He stops and leans against the railing next to her, taking his own cigarette out. She doesn’t turn to look at him but once she does she just nods her head.  

“What’s your plan now? Going to write another?” He asks, turning on his side slightly so that his body is facing hers.

YN just shrugged, turning her body so that she was facing him as well, “I don’t know. What about you?”

Harry sighs, nodding his head slightly, “I’m taking a break. Going back to London, going to spend some time with my family. Gem’s getting married in the summer, and I want to be there.”

“Pass on my congratulations to her,” YN nods, “A break sounds nice. I mean, it’s been ten years for me must be twelve, thirteen for you.”

“Thirteen,” He nods, running a hand over his face, “I need to slow down, I’m not getting any younger here.”

YN exhales a laugh, “We all know that’s the truth… and in hindsight, I don’t think a break is ever on the cards for me. As long as I’m breathing, I’ll probably be making music.”

YN had said it before, and she’d say it again – as long as she was making music that people enjoyed, she’d do it for as long as they let her.

“Speaking of music…” He looks away from her for a second and back out onto the skyline, “You didn’t have to thank me in your speech… I know it probably wasn’t the easiest thing you’ve ever done.”

YN just shakes her head, turning to look at him even though he wasn’t looking at her, “It was just the truth. I truly would not be here if it wasn’t for you. Without you pulling me on that stage that night, God I dread to think what my life would look like. I’d probably be in some unhappy marriage, with a husband who I hate and kids that hate me – just like my parents.”

Harry finally turned to look at her, “It was nothing.”

YN shakes her head once more, “It wasn’t.”

Harry clears his throat, “I know… I know I’ve done this before, and I know last time it didn’t go the way that I wanted it to, okay? But YN, I swear to you… I am so sorry about everything that happened. Looking back, you were right. I was enabling her, and not only that, but I was also hurting you in the process. I can never forgive myself for that… and I’d understand if you never forgave me as well.”

YN sighs, immediately feeling tears starting to well within her eyes, “It’s okay… it’s been too long now, it’s water under the bridge.”

As YN spoke, her voice cracked. She hadn’t realised that even though her mind knew what she wanted to say, her body betrayed her. She hadn’t realised what was building within her as he spoke, even more so when she did.

When she turned to him, there were tears in his eyes just as they were in hers. Standing here, with him after all of those years – no matter how much he had hurt her, there was a part of her that still loved him. She loved him, the life he gave her, the memories they had – the way he made her feel. She tried not to go back to that chapter of her life if she could help it, to stop the pain from resurfacing, but oftentimes, it was the memories of love that she welcomed the most.

Harry dropped his cigarette down on the floor, squashing it with his heel so that it was out. YN turned to him once more, watching as a tear slipped down his face. He immediately reached up and wiped it off his cheek.

“Listen, YN, if you ever do fancy that break London’s just a plane ride away,” He turned as though he was going to walk away, but then he stopped and turned back around, “And I’m always just a phone call away.”

With that, he turned and walked away.

[merakiui]

we have discussed clingy, codependent boyfriend azul, but now allow me to present to you: scummy, sleazy floyd.

(nsfw + female reader)

scummy, sleazy floyd who you meet at some club deep in the shadowed corner of the city. he smells of alcohol and cigarette smoke, and he’s leering lasciviously as he leans against the bar, blocking your view of another guy who’d been attempting to strike up conversation. he doesn’t bother to hide the fact that he’s interested, and you only let him stay because he keeps you on your toes with his witty and blunt retorts. you tell him you’re not looking for a quick fuck and his lips spread in an easy grin and he answers with: “and i’m just here to hold hands and make friends.”

he buys you a drink; you gaze at the flashy silver and gold adorning his fingers when he passes the cocktail to you. some of those rings look expensive: bejeweled with the brightest gemstones and glittering with sterling silver. his sleeves are rolled up; he’s got tattoo sleeves of what looks to be various marine creatures, all predatory with their curling tentacles and sharpened maws. his ears are pierced, too, and so is his tongue. not that you’re looking at his lips, but when he smiles his entire face lights up. one moment he looks pure and sweet with his broad grins; the next he looks as if he’s just undressed you with his gaze alone. and under the dim, sensual neon lighting, something about the latter look has you rubbing your thighs together in anticipation.

you talk to him as you drink. horrifyingly enough, he’s good company. you almost wish you’d come with a friend so you could have an excuse to leave. it’s not that you’re uncomfortable. it’s just that you weren’t expecting to find someone here who’d genuinely listen to you—and not just so he can wheedle you into sex! he’s a rare specimen, or maybe you’re just too buzzed to see through the deceptively appealing haze that’s fallen over him.

“so why are you still here?”

“cuz you’re fun to talk to.”

“but don’t you want to fuck?”

“do you?” he smirks at your flustered sputtering. “don’t ask for somethin’ you don’t want.”

“huh…”

“you’re cute.” it catches you off guard, but then so does the nickname he throws out next. “like a little shrimp. think i’ll start callin’ ya shrimpy from now on.”

“please don’t.”

“too late.”

you quirk an amused smile and reach out to shove him away. he doesn’t budge. not that you put any force into it. you don’t want him to leave. not yet.

“you never gave me your name.”

“ya never asked.”

“okay, smooth talker, what’s your name?”

he smiles, gleeful mismatched eyes flicking to your fingers as they curl around the handle of your empty glass. he gazes at you next. “floyd.”

“nice to meet you, floyd. i’m (name).”

“s’pretty, but i still think shrimpy sounds better.”

you roll your eyes and angle your body so that you’re facing him entirely. you know you’ve been sitting here for quite some time now because suddenly he’s the only one you want to look at. maybe it’s the alcohol, but you feel so stupidly incoherent when you stand on unsteady legs. it takes you a moment to balance on the wedge platforms, and floyd offers a muscled arm for you to lean on. you grab it and squeeze his bicep out of drunken curiosity. he’s strong…

he’s eyeing your mini skirt and fishnet stockings with sharp eyes. you know it’s bad news; you know you shouldn’t get carried away like this, especially since you just came out of a very vanilla, very normal, very non-sexual romance. but that relationship didn’t work out; this one…is different. it’s not a relationship. it’s a hook-up. it’s temporary. it’s not permanent.

your eyes tell him all he needs to know. he giggles as he guides you through a tight hall to the bathroom. the music is a muffled hum now, bass reverberating through your rib cage as if it’s a heartbeat. impatiently, he pushes you into a stall, not bothering to lock the door. you scramble for purchase when he shoves you up against the wall. it’s been graffitied with all sorts of nonsense: magicam usernames, some circled and others crossed out, phone numbers, dirty words, incoherent scribbles of poorly drawn penises… it’s filthy and you wouldn’t fuck even your worst enemy in a place as horrid as this, but tonight it feels right.

you fumble to grab his shoulders while his hands hike your mini skirt further up your hips. it feels fast and slow all at once. is this happening? are you even alive right now? did you pass out from the alcohol? is this a dream? his voice brings you back to earth next.

“changed your mind?” he teases, pressing his thumbs into your sides to gauge just how plush your waist is. and from what he’s feeling he seems to approve, for he squeezes you playfully. the coolness of his rings settles your overheated nerves.

“s-shut up…”

“ya ever had sex before?”

it takes a long minute for you to process that, but once you do you hurry to respond. “of course i have!”

“liar.”

“’m not,” you mumble, shaking your head.

“yeah, yeah. lemme guess. you want it, but you’re too scared to take it.”

“…not true.”

he barks out a laugh. “ya serious? really? that’s it?”

you push his face away. he’s still laughing.

“that’s not true!”

“ya ever use any toys?” at your limp shrug, he throws his head back and whistles. “man. why’re you even here? what’s an inexperienced thing like you doin’ in a club?”

you stare hard at the floor, suddenly ashamed. “i… i wanted to lose it…tonight…”

or something like that.

“don’t ya have someone special who can take it? not that i ain’t special, but ya know… s’different. a partner or somethin’ like that.”

“there’s no one.”

floyd hums as if he’s considering something before promptly lowering to his knees. he doesn’t seem to mind the sticky floor, but then he’s more focused on the space between your legs. he winks when he catches your gaze, lips peeling to reveal rows of sharp, pearly teeth.

“then i’d better treat ya extra special tonight.”

you don’t object. he wasn’t expecting you to.

maybe if you were more sober and level-headed you might find the sensation unusual. but his tongue (and the cold metal of his accompanying piercing) feels so unfathomably good against your clit. he braces himself against your legs, strong hands wrapped firmly around your thighs as if they’re garters. his nose is buried in your crotch while he angles his head to lave his tongue over your slick pussy, leaving you a shuddering, gasping mess above. you grab at his hair, tugging teal strands to keep yourself afloat amidst inebriation and waves of tantalizing pleasure, each crashing into you as if you’re a poor, fragile sailboat on a vast, tumultuous sea.

he’s the best (and only) fuck you’ve ever had, so when his tongue flashes into your pussy you throw your head back against the stall and wail, your stomach untying its many knots as you come undone. you’re a mess, shuddering and panting, reduced to nothing before something so… so… great? perfect?

something so floyd.

and while you grind against his mouth he laps eagerly at your wetness, unbothered by the shower he just endured. he’s laughing when he pulls away, voice raspy and thick with good-natured mischief.

“shrimpy’s so easy…”

you scowl at him, but it falls apart the moment he licks his lips.

“you’re just too…”

“yeah?” he nods, encouraging you to continue. “too what? you can say it.”

you almost don’t want to give him that satisfaction, but then he’s pinching your clit and you’re melting against the stall. suddenly being vindictive is the least of your priorities.

“t-too good!”

“see? shrimpy knows the right words.” he rises to his feet in the cramped space, shucking his trousers as he goes. they pool at his ankles, momentarily forgotten. you stare at the outline of his half-hard cock against his boxers. “good girl.”

that... wow. okay. that’s…something new. you don’t want it to hit, but it does. and you hate that it does. you try not to let it show, but he’s so eerily perceptive despite all of the carnal lust and physical attraction. how he’s even able to focus all of his attention on you while he lazily works himself in one hand is beyond you, but then you surmise he’s likely had plenty of experience and so by now he knows the basic steps by heart. it hurts a little—that you’re not his first, that you aren’t anyone special to him, that you’re just another body he’s pinned to a dingy stall wall—but you don’t dare let your sentimental feelings spoil the mood.

you watch him roll a condom on one-handed and—god, even his dick is pierced—your anticipation couldn’t be any more palpable. he rocks himself against you, his leaking cock pressed to your stomach. he pokes at an area just above his tip.

“you think it’ll go all the way up to here?” he hums while you try (and fail) to say something coherent. “only one way to find out, yeah?”

“mhm…”

floyd laughs. “don’t go gettin’ dazed on me now, shrimpy. i haven’t even put it in yet!”

he turns you so you’re facing the wall and lifts one of your legs. the position stings for a moment, but then his dick is prodding at your pussy and if you had any doubts now they’re all washed away when he snaps his hips forwards, filling you all at once, so much that the breath is punched out of you and you crumple against the wall. you scramble to grab onto something, but he keeps you plastered to the wall, one hand curled around your waist and the other holding your leg up so that he’s fucking you at an angle. each thrust pushes you up against the stall, and you howl like a mutt in heat, no longer worried about slipping.

it’s so gross. you’re tacky with sweat and your panties are soaked through, and every time he connects his body to yours you can hear the lewd squelching of skin on skin. it’s vile and loveless, but god it’s good. everything about him is temporary; he’s not your forever. you know this, but for tonight he’s your temporary and that feels like a dreamy eternity.

he fucks you like you’re the only one left in this world, and your lashes flutter against your cheekbones, vision whiting out. you shudder through your orgasm, sobbing pleasured relief, and it takes just a few more well-aimed thrusts until he’s spilling hot, groaning lowly in your ear.

he stays pressed to you for a few seconds, rolling his hips slowly as if riding out a glorious high, and you blink rapidly as you return to yourself. he waves his hand in front of you and, stupidly, you reach out and clasp it tight. his fingers entwine with yours. temporary, you remind yourself.

it’s sweaty and sticky and so unbearably hot when he separates himself, slipping out with ease. you almost lower yourself to the ground, exhausted and in need of a bath, so he supports you with one arm while he tugs the now-filled condom off.

floyd peers at you with glazed eyes and leans in to kiss you on the cheek. it’s the cherry on top—a job well done.

“you got a friend nearby?”

“what?”

“someone to pick ya up.” he tries to clean you, balling toilet paper and using it to wipe you down. it doesn’t really work. you still feel filthy even after he’s adjusted your panties and pulled your mini skirt down. it’s the effort that counts, though. “shrimpy’s not really in the right mind.”

“i’m in the best mind, thank you and fuck you!”

“kinda did that last one already.”

he lets you tear yourself away from him. as he observes you clinging to the wall for support, he fits himself back into his boxers and yanks his trousers up.

“gimme your phone.”

“no way. you might do something weird.”

floyd rolls his eyes. “lemme call ya a ride. you need it.”

“ooh, chivalry isn’t dead…”

you pass it to him after fumbling to unlock it. floyd spends an awful long time typing, but before you know it he’s calling someone. you listen to him as he talks, his voice a playful drawl. alcohol aside, he definitely rearranged your guts and your brain. it’s a wonder you’re still conscious.

“hi, jadeee. do me a favor, yeah? will you come pick us up? we gotta drop shrimpy off at her place.” there’s silence; you strain to hear the person on the other side. “nah. s’just a little lady i met tonight. she’s cute. maybe your type if you don’t mind sloppy seconds.” there’s more silence; your skin prickles when you realize he’s talking about you to whoever this jade person is. “kay, so you’ll pick us up?”

the exchange lasts another minute before he’s hanging up and sliding your phone into your pocket. you’re relieved when he tells you he’s found you a ride home because it allows you to mumble your address before you lose yourself to exhaustion entirely. you don’t remember the ride home or how you even got into your apartment or what your roommate said when a mysterious man carried your unconscious body inside like you were a sack of flour he’d slung over his shoulder. but when you wake up the next day, hungover, sticky, sweaty, and still tired, you aren’t spared the details from your roommate. it’s a story you find hard to believe.

you, going out to a club and hooking up? as if. you can hardly fit a dildo inside without tightening up out of fright.

but before you step into the shower, you check your phone for any proof. sure enough, after scrolling through your contacts, there’s a new one. his name is floyd. you stare at the number and it all comes rushing back.

horrified, you text him: why is your number in my phone?

he responds minutes later: thought u might want it.

well i don’t want it.

then delete it :p i’m not stopping u, he writes back.

you stare at his message long enough for those three dots to return.

he sends another message: gonna take a guess and say u wanna keep me in ur phone :)

you hate that emoticon. there’s nothing to smile about.

i’m going to delete you after my shower!

we’ll see

you shut your phone off. you hate that you allowed yourself to get so swept up last night, but most of all you hate that he’s right. you do want him to stay. at least now you have a means of staying in touch. not that you’ll utilize it! but…

it never hurts to talk every now and then, right?