#pls take care of your organs for me

[127luvr]

listen... i need to know, do jaem and m!r get that happy ending 🙏 (don't tell me actually, i'm just so invested i'm ready to give you one of my kidneys.)

hi 😁 i'll tell you this bc you're my favorite (don't tell anyone) but they are endgame and everything will be fine eventually... probably... maybe...

[keferon]

*clasps your shoulders gently and looks you straight in the eye*

Keferon. Please read Ninth by Kyn on AO3. I think you would love it very much. It has a large chapter count, but don't be intimidated, it's very easy to get into. It is currently unfinished, but is being updated regularly.

You are the seventh person that recommended this fic to me so ahahahaha yeah

I’m doing great Help I hate some parts of it but I love the other parts I’m spinning in the blender

…..I made the moodboard….

[srjlvr]

HOW TO NOT SURVIVE HIGHSCHOOL

LYING to his friends about having a girlfriend was definitely not on his ‘how to survive highschool’ list and now, he has to convince his biggest rival that will surely laugh at his face, to fake date him.

PAIRING. rugby player+rival!sunghoon X rival-fem!reader (mentions of the rest of enha, aespa’s karina and boynextdoor taesan)

GENRE. childhood enemies to fake dating to lovers, angst, comedy, fluff and idk what more.

WARNINGS. young sunghoon’s a bitch, so is young y/n, also older sunghoon’s a bitch and so is y/n, manipulating here and there, misunderstandings, miscommunications, definitely curse words (seventh graders already know how to curse here!) , horrible humor, ik its weird but all of the mentioned idols here are the same age! (lmk if i missed something pls!)

WORD-COUNT. 10.4k+

NOTE. ok fine! bully me for not knowing how to make a pretty cover, its the story that matters though, right? anyways besties i really dunno when will be my next update so please be patient!! i miss writing and being here 24/7 honestly but its just been really hard for me.

“i need you to fake date me”

“no”

“please?”

“are you seriously begging right now?”

“yes?”

“that’s fun, get on your knees and beg more”

“are you nuts? i’ll never do that”

“fine then, pay me for that”

“how much?”

“two”

“dollars?”

“billions”

if there’s one thing sunghoon can say about himself is that he’s quite an organized person, therefore he made a list for highschool.

a list that will help him survive his last years in highschool and will help him stay sane at the same time.

he called his list “how to survive highschool”, creative, right?

he’s been following his list and so far managed to survive just perfectly.

staying in rugby team with his friends? check!

“sunghoon! catch!” he heard a voice calling him and saw a ball coming right at him, he caught the ball and ran with it, then passing the ball to riki, his friend and teammate who scored the game and ended it with a win.

“that was a good one! take a break and return in thirty minutes!” the rugby team’s coach clapped and sent the players off for break.

“hey! i got your exam grades here! come collect them!” jungwon, one of sunghoon’s friends waved the exams to show the players he got the them in his hands.

sunghoon went up to jungwon and took his own.

get high grades? check!

“i got A+ again!” he looked at the grade and excitedly smiled.

“ugh, you’re making me sick being the nerdy rugby player” jay, another friends of his rolled his eyes.

“you’re just jealous my grades are higher than your chances with your crush” sunghoon joked.

“oh you—“ “enough! no fighting on break time” heeseung cut jay in the middle of his sentence.

“let’s just get something to snack, it’s lunch time anyway” sunoo suggested and they all nodded.

“you guys ready?” riki asked before they entered the hallway.

get popular enough so students will freak out when they see you? check!

“sunghoon! i got you this chocolate snack! please accept this and enjoy it” a one random student handed him the chocolate snack.

before he could take it, jake snatched it and smiled, “i’ll take that, thank you” and left the girl and sunghoon speechless.

“dude what the fuck?” he asked his friend.

“it could be poisoned for all you care” jake shrugged but proceeded to take a bite from the snack as they kept walking.

“let’s just sit right there!” jungwon pointed at one lunch table as they entered the cafeteria.

“really? right in front of where y/n is sitting?” sunoo whispered in his ear.

“sure, let’s do that” sunghoon replied and started walking towards the table.

“um, i’ll go grab the snacks” riki said and ran to get the snacks.

“did he just-“ “oh, it’s going to be interesting” jake smirked and watched sunghoon as he walked really closer to you, who was sitting with your back towards him.

“so, what are your plans for the weekend?” your friend karina asked as she took a bite of your food.

“oh i don’t really know, probably chilling at home and—“ you were cut off middle sentence by someone bumping into you, causing you to spill some of your food on your uniform.

“what the fuck?” you turned around and saw the person behind it, “should’ve known it was you, park”

get yourself a rival so it’ll be more fun and interesting….? check!

“sorry, couldn’t see you there” he smirked.

“just go away” you rolled your eyes at him and turned to your friend who looked awkward as hell.

“sure” he started to walk but bumped into you again, causing you to spill more food on your clothes.

“oops! that happened again” he chuckled and continued to walk to the table.

“that’s it” that was your last straw.

you got up and took your water bottle, “y/n dont—“ your friend tried to stop you but it was too late already.

as you got closer to sunghoon, you poured all your water on him.

“what the—“ “sorry!! i slipped over and spilled some on you!!” you replied with a smirk and stormed off.

his friends who were watching the whole thing from afar, walked closer to now drenched sunghoon and started laughing.

“damn, that was fun. do it again!” jay cheered.

“here sunghoon i got you a towel!” a student walked up to him and handed him a towel to dry himself.

“thank you, i’ll take it” sunoo said and took the towel.

sunghoon glared at him, “what? you’re already used to being drenched by sweat, it’s the same thing, no?”

“i hate him” you rolled your eyes.

“say, what’s the deal with you and sunghoon? you never really told me and i just assumed he annoys you because he’s a nerdy rugby player,” she chuckled, “but it seems more than that”

“park sunghoon has been on my ass ever since seventh grade” you sighed.

“why? what happened on seventh grade?” she asked, leaving everything she was busy on behind and crossing her hands to focus on you and you only.

before seventh grade you and sunghoon were best friends, hell, your parents could’ve sworn that one day you’ll end up marrying each other.

you were stuck like a glue, always around each other and doing basically everything together, no one could tear you apart.

until, seventh grade happened.

you were the top student in class, you aced everything, from math to arts and received praises from all teachers. for the last few days of school, the teacher wanted you to show the whole school your arts project.

you drew your favorite view, which was your house garden, the teacher got so excited over the drawing and decided she wants you to show it to everyone else too.

a day before the last day of school, you were busy doing the last touches of your art, sunghoon was busy doing his usual, which was to annoy you.

“sunghoon stop! i need to focus” you scoffed.

sunghoon shrugged, “but i’m bored”

“go play around with others or something” you sighed.

he shook his head, “not when i can annoy you!”

he walked back and forth, even twirled around, until he became dizzy and accidentally pushed you over your drawing, making it look like a big mess over the canvas.

you let out a yelp and looked at it with teary eyes.

“i….i’m sorry!” he quickly said.

“get out!” you yelled without even looking at him.

“it can be fixed! just a few little—“ “i asked you to get out! you ruined my drawing! how will i be able to show it to everyone now?” at this point you started crying.

you didn’t show your unfinished and ruined art in front of everyone, instead it was sunghoon’s drawing that was shown to everyone.

your teacher saw the ruined art and decided to change the plans by taking sunghoon’s project and showing it to everyone.

jealousy was eating you alive. it was supposed to be you up there on stage, showing the project to everyone and getting the compliments, you deserve that after working so hard.

it was sunghoon’s fault, all of it.

before you walked away with your parents, sunghoon called you a few times. at first you ignored his callings, but your parents, unbeknown to the whole story behind it, stopped your tracks and told you to go to sunghoon.

with heavy steps you walked closer to him, “what do you want?” you coldly asked.

“i wanted to apologize” he took a deep breath.

“great, you just did”

“wait—“

“we’re good now, i forgive you” you lied. you just didn’t feel like hearing his excuses and explanations.

“wow, really?”

“yeah” no.

although you told sunghoon you forgive him, things became really awkward between the two of you.

summer vacation arrived and you did your best to ignore him, except the times where he left you no choice and just randomly showed up at your house.

eighth grade was cool between the two of you, but you still held strong feelings against him.

he tried his best to overcome the weird awkwardness between the two of you, you’re too important for him to let go. he was honestly so scared of entering highschool without you by his side.

the second half of eighth grade was the last straw between the two of you.

you started crushing over someone in your class, and started hanging out with him, slowly getting close to the guy.

sunghoon, who was carefully watching you from behind, didn’t like your new crush, he seemed like bad news to him, getting close not only to you, but to other girls as well.

your parents, who were strict that time, warned you about dating a guy at such young age, and sunghoon had to do what he had to do.

“park, what the fuck?” you came up to him and pushed him.

“what?” he asked surprised.

“why the fuck did you tell my parents about him?” you shout.

“oh,” he rolled his eyes, “so it’s about him”

“of course it’s about him! you know about my long time crush on him!”

“he’s bad news y/n” sunghoon tried to warn you.

“no, you’re bad news! i should’ve known not to forgive you at all” you scoffed and walked away.

“y/n, wait!” sunghoon called you but you were faster than the light and suddenly was nowhere to be found.

“uh oh” jay, who was there to witness everything pat his friend’s back, “you fucked up”

“yeah, thanks jay i really needed that” sunghoon rolled his eyes.

“really? going behind her back and telling her parents about some guy? you could’ve just talked with her about it” jay snapped.

“it’s not that easy”

“it sure isn’t, and so will be your attempts to talk with her”

jay was right, sunghoon tried everything to get to talk with you, followed you everywhere, sent you numerous texts and calls until you had to block his number, even showed up at your house a few times. nothing helped.

so sunghoon, being the cool teenager he is, decided to move on. he doesn’t need you anymore anyways.

nineth grade came and so did a new student that sunghoon couldn’t take his eyes off of.

slowly he tried his best to get closer to her and spending more time with her, he was so close to confess his feelings towards her.

“did you do that on purpose?” she asked, nothing but hatred in her eyes as she looked at sunghoon.

“do what…?” he asked confused.

“did you tell the whole school about my family issues?” she raised her voice.

“what? no! i would never—“

“forget it, you’re such a jerk!” she yelled and stormed out.

“wait!!” he called her and was about to run after her but his eyes caught a glimpse of a person smirking.

he clenched his jaw and moved closer to the figure, “what the fuck did you do?” he asked.

“nothing, i don’t know what you’re talking about” the person shrugged.

“don’t play dumb, y/n. i know you had something to do with it” he rolled his eyes.

“still don’t know what you’re talking about” you shrugged again, “maybe someone’s just taking a revenge on you, i don't know” you added and left with a smirk.

“i hate you choi y/n!” he shout. “it’s mutual park sunghoon!”

“oh now i get it! yes girl! give him the revenge he deserves to get” karina cheered and you nodded.

“but, don’t you think he ruined your chances with your crush just because he was jealous?” she asked and you glared at her, “i mean, even your parents could’ve sworn you’d end up getting married”

“even if he was jealous, he should’ve confronted me about it” you replied and she nodded.

“you’re right” she sighed, “but what if he was, i don’t know, scared?”

“are you seriously on his side now?” you asked in disbelief.

“never!” she hugged you and you giggled.

“let’s get you cleaned up, i think i have an extra uniform in my locker”

“oh no, walking in school hallways like that is like just straight up asking to be bullied”

“i won’t let anyone bully you bae, let’s go”

“by the way! all of you are invited to my brother’s wedding, no single hoes are invited though, that includes you sunghoon” heeseung chuckled,

“sweet! when is it?” jake asked.

“in a month”

“what? you cannot be serious!” sunghoon complained.

“sorry, your single ass will not be able to handle this wedding” heeseung shrugged.

“even riki has a partner before you” sunoo laughed.

“guys just realized sunghoon is really the only one single here” jungwon added which made everyone laugh and make jokes about him.

“all of you can shut up because i actually do have a girlfriend”

heeseung was obviously joking about sunghoon not being invited because he’s single, but he was not expecting to hear his friend confessing that he actually is seeing someone now.

sunghoon was also not expecting that big lie to come out of his mouth, but it was already too late.

“what?” jungwon spoke first after the silence that surrounded after his confession.

“i do have a girlfriend” no sunghoon, you can still get away with it and say you were joking.

sunghoon’s list of surviving highschool has a lot of tasks still left untouched, but this one was definitely not, and was never written, as one of his tasks on his list.

lie to your friends about having a girlfriend? definitely not on the list, stop with the lies!!!

his friends looked at him in shock. riki dropped the spoon he was about to shove into his mouth, jake choked on his water and heeseung pat his back, jay almost fainted and jungwon and sunoo froze in their place.

“what?” sunghoon asked.

they all burst into laughter, “that was a good one! i almost believed you!” riki wiped his tears that fell down because of the amount of laughter he let out.

“i’m serious!” sunghoon scoffed.

“you? a girlfriend? sunghoon, i saw your ‘how to survive highschool’ list, you had a ‘no matter what, stay single until you finish highschool!’ line!” jay chuckled.

“i can break one line its not a big deal, besides, she’s definitely worth it” sunghoon smiled.

he’s talking about no one, no one comes to his mind at the moment, but he still keeps on with his lie.

“will we be able to see her before the wedding?” heeseung asked.

“a day before maybe” sunghoon nodded.

“hey! we’re already late for practice! get up everyone now!!” jungwon checked the clock and hurried everyone up.

sunghoon knows he fucked up, real bad. he never had a normal conversation with a girl in highschool, and let’s not forget about the fact that everyone talks to him as if he has some kind of royal blood.

the only real friendship he had with a girl was with you in his childhood. and you’re the only girl who can talk back to him without feeling threatened. wait, that’s it!

“i need you to fake date me”

curse him and his very awful impulse control.

as soon as sunghoon finished his practice he went to the library, figured he’d find you there and apparently he was right.

the book you were reading was long forgotten as you tried to process what you just heard.

“no” you replied shortly.

“please?” he sounded so desperate.

“are you seriously begging right now?”

“yes?”

“that’s fun, get on your knees and beg more” you smirked.

“are you nuts? i’ll never do that” he frowned and rolled his eyes.

“fine then, pay me for that”

“how much?”

“two”

“dollars?”

“billions”

“hell no”

“kiss my ass goodbye then” you shrugged.

“you’re unbelievable”

“said the one who barged into the library and started begging me to date him”

“yeah, it’ll help you become popular” he slightly nodded.

“right, you’re already popular and have multiple fans or whatever, why don’t you just ask them?”

“it’ll just make things worse!”

“fuck off sunghoon, i’m not going to fake date you and help you because of some stupid lie you told” you rolled your eyes and got back to reading the book.

he tried begging you once more but at this point you just decided to ignore him until he left.

“what the heck was that?” you asked yourself and shook your head.

“hey y/n!” you heard a voice calling you and you immediately recognized this voice.

it belonged to taesan, your classmate and also your longtime crush. taesan’s quite popular amongst the students, and surprising so, he’s not a rugby player.

you’ve made a pros and cons lists about your few old crushes and also made one about your current crush, taesan.

pros? he’s funny, smart, creative, caring, friendly, kind and would prefer to spend his free time in the library with you.

cons?

“hey sunghoon dude! didn’t see you there, what are you doing here?”

he’s sunghoon’s best friend. that is a BIG no no for you.

“just came to check something, studying again?” sunghoon smirked as he looked at you.

did he seriously wait for taesan to come so he could spend more time annoying you?

“yeah, it’s my studying with y/n time, we’ve been doing that for a while” taesan smiled widely and winked at you.

without even noticing your cheeks started to heat up. but your blushing cheeks were already noticed by someone who’s definitely going to use that against you.

“right, i’m not going to interrupt you two, enjoy!” sunghoon said as he gave you one last smirk before turning around and leaving.

“isn’t he so weird sometimes? i can definitely understand why you hate his guts” taesan chuckled and you nodded.

“how are you today anyway? didn’t see you that much” he smiled.

“so far so good, you?”

“great now that i’m here with you”

you tried your best to stop your racing heart beats after hearing what he said and making eye contact with him.

you just giggled and opened a book right away, “let’s just start with this book!”

after some time that felt like half an hour to you (but was actually two hours or so) it was time to go back home.

“let me walk you home” taesan suggested.

“it’s okay, i live closeby, if so i’m the one who needs to walk you home” you giggled.

“i insist”

you didn’t reply to him and just walked out of the library as he followed you.

“oh hey y/n, taesan!” you stopped your trace when you noticed sunghoon standing right outside the library.

“sunghoon? why are you still here?” taesan asked, emphasizing the last question.

“just walked by after dropping yeji at her friend’s house, also i promised y/n i’ll walk her home, right y/n?”

you looked at him confused but he gave you the ‘you better say yes now’ look, and besides, you didn’t want to bother taesan with the long walk.

“right, i completely forgot, i’m really sorry taesan, next time i’ll be the one to walk you home!” you said and he nodded.

“don’t worry about it!” he said, quite confused since he never saw the both of you getting along and actually walking home together, even though you live right across each other.

sunghoon took your hand and dragged you away from taesan.

“what the fuck park?”

“walking him home? seriously? your lazy ass could never” he teased and you rolled your eyes.

“fuck off sunghoon, why are you really here?”

“i’ve got a deal to offer” he stopped you from walking and you glared at him.

“no”

“you haven’t heard it yet”

“i don’t care, it’s a no from me, i can never trust you” you scoffed and started walking away.

“i’ll help you to get close to taesan!” he said and you froze for a second, “i don’t need your help”

“oh but you do” he smirked as he figured he got your weakness point, “you’ve been acting awfully trying to hide your little crush on him”

“what do you need?” you asked, half convinced.

“a month” he said straightforwardly.

“are you—“

“a month of fake dating and then i’ll let you tell everyone you broke up with me and broke my heart and whatever you want” he licked his lips, “i’ll help you get closer to taesan too”

“i need a day to think about it” you sighed.

“fine” he said, full of hopes and prayers.

as you arrived you bid your goodbyes for the first time in years, and it never felt so weird as much as it just did.

as you entered the house you took a quick shower and ate, right after that you ran to get your phone a called karina.

“i think you should do it, a month wouldn’t be so bad, plus, he did say he’ll help you get close to taesan” she said.

“can i really trust him though? he ruined my chances with my crush once already” you groaned.

“you’re right, don’t trust that guy”

“but he’s also the only one that could get me close to taesan”

“right again, trust him fully and agree to that deal”

“you’re not helping me at all!!” you complained.

“i don’t know bae, i guess that if i was you i would’ve probably go with what my heart says”

“cliché much, aren’t we?”

“i didn’t know what to say!”

“i guess i just…”

“really? are you for real? is it really happening right now? i need you to sign this contract right now before you regret” sunghoon’s eyes widened and his lips formed into a little smile.

you rolled your eyes, “don’t make me regret this”

“okay okay, i won’t, let’s just find a spot where we could talk” he said and took your hand.

he dragged you to an empty classroom and closed the door.

“so,” he spoke, “we need rules”

“no shit sherlock”

“can you stop being an actual bitch for a second and hear me out?” he spat and you rolled your eyes.

“i’ll be walking you home, mornings and afternoons no matter what” he said.

“does that really matter? i mean, no one sees us” you sighed.

“that’s what you think, my friends are stalkers it’s actually scary”

“whatever”

“we’ll be posting pictures together which means we’re going to have to go on date—“

“im gonna stop you right there” you cut him off middle sentence, “you can just use pictures from pinterest”

“what?”

“there’s no chance im going on dates with you” you argued.

“you agreed to this fake dating, you need to face the consequences”

you groaned and he continued, “kissing is not prohibited, you can kiss me whenever you want, if it’s necessary”

you felt like throwing up hearing this sentence.

“who’s gonna buy that? just yesterday you were bumping into me and acting like a total bitch in front of everyone” you rolled your eyes.

“it’s as simple as that, we’ll say we’ve been forced by our parents to come as a couple to an event and we had a deep conversation about our past and after a while of reuniting i asked you out and we decided to hide our relationship until now” he shrugged.

“wow,” you clapped, “you thought about it the whole day yesterday didn’t you?”

“no…” he scratched his nape and looked everywhere but at you.

“sure” you nodded, completely not believing what he just said.

“anyways it’s all settled, we’ll be posting a picture today after school” he said and was about to leave the classroom.

“one more thing,” he said, “pda is a must, therefore you’d have to give me your hand and we’d have to go hand in hand to classroom”

“just say you want to hold my hand, i’ll take that into consideration, but i’m not interested” you asked annoyed.

“you wish someone would actually want to hold your hand out of his own will” he rolled his eyes.

“you haven’t touched a single soul in your entire life”

“just shut up” he sighed.

“never as long as your annoying ass is right besides me”

he just groaned and took your hand.

“starting now” he nodded, “it’ll make everyone confuse until we reveal our relationship”

“yuck, even calling it a relationship is making me want to throw up”

“hope your stupid brain knows it’s mutual but whatever, just don’t act like that when we’re together”

walking through the hallway while everyone is whispering and glancing at you was never a problem to sunghoon, it was a big problem for you though.

you tried letting go of sunghoon’s hand to stop the whispering and glancing but he held you tighter.

“it’s okay, calm down i’m here with you” he whispered.

as much as you’d like to deny it, it made you feel somewhat safe.

however, it’s the park sunghoon we’re talking about. your worst enemy.

“is that supposed to make me feel better?” you whispered back.

“and we’re here, outside your classroom” he changed the subject and stopped right outside of your class while everyone else kept looking at the two of you.

“i’ll wait for you after class” he winked and left a peck on your forehead before leaving to his classroom.

you so wished you could wipe it off at the moment. or at least, you think.

“what the fuck did i just saw?” karina walked up to you as soon as sunghoon left.

“we have a lot to catch on” you sighed and dragged her inside the classroom.

“and you agreed?!?”

“ms. karina and ms. y/n, would you like to share to your class what were you talking about?” the teacher knocked on the desk.

“no, we’re sorry” you said quietly and the teacher went back to teaching.

“you told me to follow what my heart says!” you whispered-yelled to her.

“i didn’t think it’d say to agree to it!!” she replied back.

“well i did, and now i’m stuck with the worst person ever”

“maybe he’s not that bad”

“get out karina”

“can’t, we’re in the middle of a class” she shrugged and you groaned.

“so you’re now dating your worst ever enemy, the infamous woman in this highschool, choi y/n?!!”

“yes jake, i don’t know why it’s so surprising to you” sunghoon rolled his eyes as he took a bite from his lunch.

“surprising only to him? sunghoon, just a few days ago you called her an attention seeker bitch, now you’re telling us you’ve been dating for a few months already?” jungwon asked, concerned.

“well we did great at hiding didn’t we? our parents told us we should sign to drama classes”

“nothing here makes sense” jay shook his head.

lying to his friends about his whole relationship life? was definitely not and never will be on his list but he couldn’t care less about the list anymore.

“life doesn’t make sense, jay” sunghoon sighed, “it just happened, now i can’t stop thinking about her, it’s like i want to spend every minute with her”

“ew, not in front of my salad” riki gagged.

“although it makes no sense to me, i’m happy for you sunghoon, so proud of you for finally getting along with someone” sunoo pat his back.

“hey what do you mean by that?”

“from childhood friends to childhood enemies to lovers, that sounds like an actual pretty good story genre” heeseung crossed his arms and nodded.

“can’t believe you haven’t told me anything about it!” taesan, who for the first time in a while joined their lunch table, lightly pushed sunghoon, completely in disbelief.

“you’re right, i should’ve told you about it before” sunghoon nodded.

sunghoon’s a bad friend. a very, very bad one.

a few weeks ago he had a conversation with who he considers as his best friend, but how could he face him now after this conversation?

“hey hoon! i wanted to ask you something” taesan bit his lips, a bit anxious to start the conversation.

“yeah dude, what’s up?” he asked.

“i know you and y/n are….not on good terms, but i actually started spending some time with her and i’m really interested in her” his eyes lit up from excitement just by talking about you, “wanted to ask you if that’s okay that, you know….”

“yeah for sure! even though i hate this person with all my heart, i can’t decided on your life, can’t see how and why you’re interested in her but whatever, it’s yours” sunghoon shrugged.

“thanks sunghoon, i’m really glad i got you as my friend” taesan hugged sunghoon tightly.

sunghoon definitely knew about taesan’s little crush about you, and the day he told you that taesan has a little crush, he actually meant you.

back to today, sunghoon feels like his whole life was tearing apart.

how could he betray his friend like that? after everything taesan did to him. from helping him with studies to even paying for the things he couldn’t.

taesan shook his head and smiled weakly, “whatever makes you happy sunghoon” he said.

sunghoon was expecting him to shout at him and get mad about it, but was actually surprised he took it well somehow.

‘i’m doing this for you too’ sunghoon thought, after all, he has the perfect plan for taesan and y/n.

“thanks taesan” sunghoon hugged him tightly and pat his back as a sign for asking for forgiveness.

“that’s not gonna work, too many people are looking at us” you complained as soon as you got out of your last class for the day and noticed sunghoon who was already waiting for you outside.

“with popularity comes the consequences” he shrugged and you rolled your eyes.

“enjoy lovebirds!” jay shouted as he walked past you.

“let’s go” he extended his hand out for you to hold it but you shook your head.

“i promised taesan i’ll review his essay he wrote”

“you can do it tomorrow—“ “can’t, plus you said you’ll help me with taesan, we can go on your stupid fake date later”

sunghoon rolled his eyes and sighed, “fine, i’ll walk you to the library”

when he noticed you smiling he couldn’t help but feel that weird feeling of excitement, but then he realized you were not smiling because of him.

“hey y/n!” taesan smiled warmly at you when he noticed you, “and sunghoon” he added quietly.

“hey taesan” you called with a wider smile on your face and sunghoon nodded.

“i’ll pick you up later then” he said and walked away.

“so…you and sunghoon huh?” taesan asked.

“ugh, don’t even— i felt everyone’s eyes on me throughout the whole day” you groaned.

“you don’t seem that happy with that”

“because i’m not! i’m so tired of it already, i should’ve known not to agree to that deal”

“what deal?”

“uhhhh” you freaked out, how stupid can you actually be??

“nothing!! no deal” you giggled nervously.

“if you say so” he shrugged and opened his laptop to show you his essay.

“why dont you just tell him?” karina asked you over the phone.

“and what will i say if he asks why i agreed to the deal?”

“simple, ‘i did it because i want sunghoon to help me date you’, like that”

“sure, it’s that easy” you rolled your eyes.

“how was your first day dating sunghoon anyway?”

“he took me to get some ice cream, he actually remembers my favorite taste”

“yeah i saw on your instagram story, if i didn’t happen to know that this is all fake i’d actually believe it” she said teasingly.

“can’t believe i’m saying this but” you sighed, “he’s not that bad to hang out with”

you expected a reply from her right away but all you heard was silence.

“karina?”

“i can’t believe this conversation is not being recorded” she finally spoke.

“forget that i said tha—“ “no no no! please continue”

“well….he was actually super nice and even paid for my ice cream, even found a nice spot and brought me his jacket since it was starting to get cold” you said calmly.

“y/n”

“hm?”

“you might end up falling in love with him instead of taesan” she said and you scoffed.

“are you forgetting that he literally ruined my life?”

“i said what i said!” she argued.

eventually you ended the call and drifted off to dreamland.

“so….”

a few days passed since you revealed your (fake) relationship and today was the first day you sat with seven other people at your lunch table.

“you and sunghoo—“

“stop it”

“sunghoon and yo—“

“shut it!”

sunghoon’s friends tried to ease up the awkward situation but were shut off by you and sunghoon.

“we just think it’s weird that’s all!! it’ll pass sooner or later” jay chuckled.

“so y/n, how’s life?” riki asked.

“seriously?” sunghoon raised his brow.

“babe, it’s okay,” you almost gagged after using the nickname on sunghoon, “life’s fun, you never know which surprises awaits for you”

you raised sunghoon’s hand and showed everyone your locked hands.

“ew, don’t need to use those nicknames and act all cheesy here” jake teased.

“you wanted to meet my girlfriend didn’t you? here she is” sunghoon spoke.

that’s when it got to you. sunghoon lied to his friends about having a girlfriend! why did he choose you though? out of hundreds of students.

“you’re right” heeseung nodded, “if you already know each other so well, why don’t we ask you questions about sunghoon and you answer?”

“baby you don’t have to—“ “it’s okay, hit me with the questions”

“sunghoon’s favorite color?”

“white”

“his favorite season”

“used to be winter, it’s autumn now”

“favorite ice cream flavor?”

“um” you froze for a second.

“ah ha! got you”

“coffee”

“aw man, you suck!” riki said in disappointment after you answered all the questions correctly.

sunghoon in the meantime was busy staring at you and daydreaming.

when did you become so pretty? with your cute eyes that lit up every time you answered a question correctly, and your lips that formed into a smile when you noticed you won over his friend’s questions.

how come you remember those details about him as well?

he had tons of questions, but curse his inability to communicate well, he’ll probably leave those questions unanswered.

the only thing he does know, is that he’s scared to fall in love with you.

“babe? are you ready to go? let me walk you to the field now, you have practice”

you called him and he zoned out, for a second there he really forgot this is all fake.

the way you’d look at him and call him babe, it made him feel so weird, he had never felt like that before.

“yeah” he slightly nodded and got up.

when both of you arrived at the field he stopped in front of you and frowned.

“what if i’ll just take you on a date instead of practice?” he asked.

“sunghoon what the fuck? we’re all alone here nobody sees you, you don’t need to act all lovey dovey” you snapped back.

“right” he said, almost sounding too disappointed.

“i’ll go back now to the library, taesan’s waiting” you smiled and started walking away.

“pull yourself together sunghoon” he sighed and entered the field.

“hey” you called taesan as you saw him already sitting at your usual library desk.

“hey y/n!” he called you back excitedly.

“missed being with you after school, i went on too many dates with sunghoon lately” you sighed.

“yeah” he whispered, you could hear a bit of disappointment in his voice but he shrugged it off quickly, “hey how about instead of studying we’ll go hang out, i got pretty tired of reading today”

“sure! of course, i would love to!!” you excitedly replied.

taesan got up and held your hand, “let’s go watch some movies”

practice ended and sunghoon went straight to the library without even showering first. he couldn’t wait telling you how his friends couldn’t stop talking about you and praising your (again, fake) relationship.

he looked at the clock and it was usually around the time you and taesan would finish and get out, only this time you were nowhere to be found.

sunghoon started to freak out, what if something bad happened to you? did taesan leave you alone? what if he did something bad to you?

no, no. sunghoon was just freaking out.

he tried calling you, but your phone was turned off, you weren’t available.

he ran all the way to your home and asked your mother if she happened to see you, but got a negative answer.

“why, is she missing?” your mother asked and tried to stay calm.

“no of course not!” sunghoon awkwardly said, “we’re just playing hide and seek that’s all, i was wondering if she walked all the way here to hide in her room”

seriously sunghoon? that’s the best thing you got?

“alright, have fun!” it seemed like it made your mom believe him!

“y/n where the fuck are you?” he whispered to himself.

he decided to call taesan, “if he’s not answering i swea—“

“hey dude, what’s up?” his friend on the other line answered calmly.

“do you happen to know where y/n is?” he straightforwardly asked.

“yeah, she’s right next to me, didn’t she tell you we’re going to watch some movies?” taesan’s voice stayed calm but on the inside he was smirking.

taesan 1, sunghoon 0.

“she probably forgot or something” sunghoon giggled, “when do you plan on coming back?”

“don’t know, but don’t worry dude, i’ll make sure she gets home safely”

“yeah, okay” sunghoon said and ended the call.

“who was that?” you asked.

“your boyfriend, didn’t you tell him we’re here?”

“oh no, i forgot about it”

“yeah he was worried sick”

“i think we should head back now” you let out a sigh.

“okay, sure” he nodded and both of you got up.

you don’t know why you said it instead of staying the whole night just watching random movies with your longtime crush.

what the hell did this fake dating with sunghoon do to you?

taesan walked you until it was already safe for you to walk alone, you argued with him that it’s fine and your house was a minute away, he tried insisting but you didn’t budge.

both of you knew why you wanted to walk over to your house alone.

sunghoon 1, taesan 1.

you really tried using you muscle memory and walk to your door with your eyes closed so you won’t have to meet with—

“well who do we have here”

“i really didn’t want to see you here now” you sighed and opened your eyes.

“i was worried sick! why didn’t you just send me a text or whatever?” he spit out and you never really realized how irritating his voice is until now.

“what are you? my mom? why do i have to tell you my whereabouts?” you snapped.

“we’re dating, of course—“ “hell no we’re not, this whole thing is fake and you know it, i dont owe you shit, park”

for the first time sunghoon was stunned and speechless because of you. he did not know what to say or even process what the hell just happened. and why the fuck was he so annoyed by you going to the movies with taesan?

“if you dont have anything to say just go” you sighed and just like that he left.

you finally got inside your room and laid on your bed, thinking about your last events and how stupid it was of you to go home early because of that fucking rat who was ‘worried’ over you.

your phone buzzed and when you looked at the caller ID you smiled.

“just checking that you arrived safely”

“i’m not a five years old kid taesan,” you chuckled and got up to sit on the edge of your bed, “besides, it was a minute walk from where you left me”

“alright, was just checking if you were still alive” he giggled.

“hey taesan”

“hm?”

“let’s hang out more, i had real fun today”

“all i was just asking is for you to text me if there’s a change of plans! i was really worried because i knew i had to pick you up but you were nowhere to be seen” that is how your morning started, for the past few days it because a routine for you to have a morning and after school walk with sunghoon, and each morning you’d have a little fight.

this time, even though you hate to admit it, he’s right.

“you’re right, i should’ve told you beforehand, i just got super excited to go out with taesan so i forgot about it, besides you’re supposed to be happy for me, i’m finally getting closer to my crush” you huffed.

“thank you, and yeah, i’m super happy” he rolled his eyes and you nodded.

“another thing, heeseung’s brother is having a wedding in less than a month and we have to go there together, as a couple” he said, “after the wedding we’ll plan the break up and will part our ways”

“sounds like a plan to me” you shrugged.

“no matter what happens, please just show up to his brother’s wedding, i think heeseung already favors you so much, he always did but i always warned him not to get too close to you”

“obviously you did” you rolled your eyes, “but i will do it, for him and for his happiness”

“thank you” he said sincerely.

“wow, didnt know you could be genuine”

“just shut up and continue to walk”

two weeks passed and as much as you hate to admit it, dating sunghoon park isn’t something that bad.

you went to all kinds of ‘dates’ together, that one amusement park date was your favorite.

“no no no no! don’t go too high, y/n hold my hand tight!” he yelled on one of the roller coasters you forced him to get on, “i think i’m gonna throw up oh no, here it comes! i hate it here”

while he was busy yelling, you were busy laughing your ass off at him. he was cute, you admit.

it reminded you of that time you went to an amusement park together when you were kids, he remained the same, nothing changed.

as you got tired of the amusement park, he took you to a restaurant and both of you sat one in front of the other.

“i like it here, this place is designed so beautifully” you said.

“not as beautiful as you” he mumbled.

“hm?” you asked and he shook his head, “nothing”

“you know, it wasn’t so bad today, i really had fun” he started speaking, “reminded me of our childhood”

“yeah, i thought about that too” you nodded.

“i kinda miss it” i kinda miss you, he wanted to say, but he felt like it’d be too much.

sunghoon that day realized his strong feelings for you never left, and probably never will. your past antics were long forgotten and all he wanted was to hold you in his arms and tell you how much he loves you, and he have always had.

“i kinda miss it too” you replied and it was like an unspoken tension between the two of you.

none of you would talk after that and just walked home in silence, but it was a comforting one.

“girl, he’s super like, into you, and you’re so like, into him too” karina said after you told her about the amusement park date.

“am not! i’ve been actually going out with taesan a lot, i really really like him” you smiled.

“whatever you say girl!”

“i actually am going to hang out with taesan today, i’ll update you on everything, bye bae” you smiled and ended the call to get ready for your hangout with taesan.

an hour later he sent you a text that he’s already waiting and you got out of your house right away.

“you look, really pretty” taesan was being so stunned by your beauty that he forgot how to talk.

“thank you” you smiled, “so, where are we going?”

“a new arcade just opened and i know how much you love arcades so i just thought of testing it out”

“oh my god you really do know me so well!!” you took out your phone to text sunghoon about your whereabouts.

you became more responsible and it suddenly didn’t bother you as much to text him about it, it almost became a habit of you.

‘off to the new arcade that opened up with taesan, don’t you worry about me’ you texted him and closed your phone.

as you arrived your eyes roamed around the big arcade and suddenly you looked like a five years old child who just got their first ever vanilla ice cream.

“what are we waiting for? let’s just go!!” taesan cheered and you clapped.

after hours and hours of playing you both went to sit down by the nearest park there.

“it was so fun today, we have to do it again!” you grinned and taesan nodded.

it suddenly became so quiet and you noticed taesan was staring at you for too long.

“are you okay?”

“i know about you and sunghoon,” he spoke, “about your fake dating thing”

you were too stunned to speak.

“i heard you arguing on the same day we went to the movies, i wanted to check on you if you arrived safely but i noticed you and sunghoon talking and i couldn’t help but eavesdrop” he shrugged.

“oh” was all you could let out.

“i was actually glad to find out that this whole thing with you and sunghoon was fake”

“what do you mea—“ “i like you y/n, a lot” he cut you middle sentence and you felt so weird hearing his confession.

“oh! there you are!” before you could even respond to taesan you heard a voice calling the both of you.

you turned around and saw the one and only, park sunghoon. what was he doing here?

a few days ago taesan asked to meet up with sunghoon. he confessed to him about knowing your fake relationship and told sunghoon he was going to confess to you.

“i like y/n, a lot, you already know that” he said.

“what’s your plan?” sunghoon asked.

“asking her out after going to that new arcade” he exposed his plan, and sunghoon’s cue to stop the confession was a simple text from you about your whereabouts.

sunghoon for the second time chose to be a shitty and egoistic ass friend, and prevent his so called ‘best friend’ from confessing to you.

but of course sunghoon wouldn’t tell you all of that.

“me and y/n were planning to go on a date today! i guess she forgot” sunghoon smirked.

“cut it sunghoon, i know you’re not really dating” taesan clenched his jaw.

“doesn’t matter, i still made us a reservation for this new restaurant” sunghoon rolled his eyes and dragged you away.

you were too shocked by the whole scene that only when you arrived back to your home you realized what happened.

“did you just—” you sighed, “ruined my fucking chance with taesan?” you felt your blood starting to boil.

“what do you mean?” he asked confused.

“taesan just fucking confessed and you just fucking showed up and dragged me away, what the fuck were you thinking?” you shout.

“y/n i—“

“you what, sunghoon? want to ruin my life once again? just like you did with my painting from seventh grade and my crush from eighth grade?” you snapped.

“you seriously still hold that against me? we were in seventh grade for god’s sake!”

“and it ruined my life ever since then! did you become your family’s disappointment? because i did, oh! and funny enough, not only that seventh grade made them disappointed in me, but also my stupid crush on eighth grade that you decided to snitch on!” you looked at him in disbelief.

“what about my crush from nineth grade then, huh? not only you lied to her and told her i spread the rumors about her, you made me look like the bad guy and the other students refused to talk to me for months! you basically made everyone back away from me!”

“and rightfully so” you rolled your eyes.

“y/n, look” sunghoon ran his hands through his hair and sighed,

“save it park, i don’t want to hear from you ever again, i had a blast ignoring you for the last few years and i’ll continue having a blast if it’ll continue that way” you lied through your teeth, “we’ll only talk when necessary and cut ties after heeseung’s brother’s wedding”

“y/n” sunghoon called you again but you already walked away and entered your house.

sunghoon knows he fucked up, and he realized there were so many miscommunications between the two of you over the past few years and he didn’t know how to fix it.

meanwhile you, the minute you stepped inside your room and closed the door, you started crying.

you didn’t know how to feel with yourself. you were glad that sunghoon cut you off before you could answer taesan, because surprisingly so, you were about to reject him.

taesan is a nice guy, he really is, and he really was your longtime crush, until your old crush entered your life again.

you realized you gained back your feelings the moment sunghoon opened his mouth to genuinely talk with you, in fact, those feelings never really left.

you found yourself so focused on the way that his dimples would always show while smiling and talking to you, or the way his fangs would show up with every smile he gives you.

but you couldn’t help but let your blood boil after his whole ‘i’m not going to let y/n have another chance with someone’ show, it made you think about your past and you hated it.

the next few weeks felt normal to everyone but you, sunghoon and taesan.

you and sunghoon acted as if nothing happened between the two of you when someone you know happened to be around.

when you two were alone? hell, you won’t even shoot a glance at him.

and as for you and taesan, you told him it’d be better if the both of you would take a short break for a while, just for you to adjust everything.

sunghoon refused to let go of you so easily once again, he tried everything, calling, texting, even calling your parents to ask if you were home and maybe they can tell you to pick your constantly ringing phone up.

it all felt like a deja vu now, but not the good one. you were getting distant again and it scared him that the same thing will happen yet again.

“thank you for coming” sunghoon welcomed the person into his house.

“why are you so stressed? oh no don’t tell me you got someone pregnant”

“jay, i sometimes wonder if your last braincells are just off to go travel or something” sunghoon groaned.

“well, you seem so tense, what is it?”

sunghoon decided to tell jay everything from A to Z, they’ve been best friends for long and he feels like he can trust him wholeheartedly, plus he had to get some help from someone.

“i knew it the moment you told me both of you are dating! it felt so unreal”

“thanks a lot jay, it really helps”

“well, i think im getting a little deja vu for eighth grade”

“exactly! i don’t want this to happen again! i know i fucked up but i….” sunghoon sighed, “i’m willing to do everything as long as i won’t lose her”

“okay first of all, ew dude that’s so cringy” jay said in disgust, “second, i think you just need to give her some time, i’m sure that if you still haven’t heard about her and taesan dating, she might as well was about to reject him”

“then why would she get so angry at me? it doesn’t make sense”

“you took a whole ass opportunity from her to try and sort her things out, of course she’d be pissed”

“right”

“try to talk with karina maybe, she might help you out on this one” jay pat his friend’s shoulder, “besides, the wedding is in a few days and you told me you made her promise you to show up no matter what, it’s not like she can run away from you for long”

“i hate that you’re so right” sunghoon groaned and jay shrugged, “i’m just saying whatever comes to my mind, whenever it comes to my mind”

“what do you want, park?”

“wow you really sound like y/n now” sunghoon sighed as he saw karina looking at him uninterested, “i guess she already told you what happened”

“yes, she did” she also told me she’s scared because she actually has feelings for you, she wanted to say. but its not her place to say it anyway.

“how….is she doing?” he asked quietly.

“why do you care?”

“oh no please don’t make it harder than it already is” he mumbled under his breath.

“because, i need to talk with her, a serious conversation”

“oh no don’t tell me you caught feelings”

“how did you— nevermind, please tell her that i’ll be waiting for her, and i really want to sort things out between us” he sounded so desperate it scared karina.

“i’ll see what i can do” karina nodded and he bit his lips and smiled.

“thank you, thank you, thank you, thank—“ “i get it you can go now!”

he nodded as he got his bag and went for another practice.

“hey bae how are you doing today?” karina hugged you as she sat on your bed.

ever since your last encounter with sunghoon you started missing a few classes here and there, you didn’t really feel like going to school and seeing sunghoon anyway. that’s why karina came to check up on you.

“same as usual, i don’t know”

“i know what you’re thinking” she said and you looked at her creeped out.

“relax, it’s nothing scary” she laughed, “i just know you’re thinking about him”

“am not!” you argued.

“yeah, and i’m queen elizabeth”

you can’t stop thinking about sunghoon, she wasn’t lying really.

you realized how messed up your whole story was. you need answers from him, you need the apology you’ve been waiting to hear, the confirmation that he misses you as much as you miss him. you need to hold him tight and never let him go again.

“fine, you got me” you sighed.

you wish you’d know how to sort things out without going crazy.

“he came up to me today,” she said and your eyes sparkled, “he asked me about you, he’s been so desperate to talk with you, he looked and sounded really sincere”

“i don’t know karina, i’m not sure if i’m ready to face him without getting angry again, it’s just that whenever i see him my blood just starts to boil when i think about our past”

“that’s your problem, you refuse to let go of your past” she put her hand on your shoulder, “just let it go, and get the answers and confirmation you need from him”

you decided not to show up at school ever since your conversation with karina.

sunghoon tried checking up on you multiple times but each time you’d lie to your mother who opened the door for him and told her to tell him that you’re sick. both of you knew it was wrong.

sunghoon was going crazy, his friends couldn’t stop asking about you and about your whereabouts and he could only lie and say that you’ve got really sick and that he’s been taking care of you.

he asked karina about you again and again, until she got tired and told him everything, about your wellbeing and your health.

he was so worried for you it surprised her, he was really acting as if he’s your real boyfriend.

karina would lie if she said she didn’t confuse him as your boyfriend for a while.

“here” sunghoon handed karina a notebook.

“what’s that?” she asked.

“i took some notes on this class, give it to y/n please”

“sunghoon, i’m not some kind of—“

“i know i know you’re not a delivery guy but, i don’t know how to give it to her in any other way” he sighed.

oh the poor guy, she really pities him.

wedding day came and sunghoon was going back and forth in his room.

will you be coming? should he pick you up? you promised him! if not for him then for heeseung!

at the end, jay called him and told him it was becoming too late and he should just come without you.

sunghoon left his house with a heavy heart and empty hands, that were supposed to hold you tightly and close to him.

“hey hoon! you came!!” heeseung welcomed his friend with a hug and a big smile over his face.

“where’s y/n?” he asked.

“oh y/n, she really wanted to come but—“ “but what?” he was cut off by someone else.

when he looked over his shoulder he found you, walking over to them and putting your hands together on sunghoon’s right shoulder.

“i was getting ready and it took me too long to come, so i just told sunghoon to go away so he won’t be late because of me” you smiled and planted a kiss on sunghoon’s cheek.

“i’m so glad you came!!” heeseung smiled widely and hugged you tightly.

sunghoon was still shocked seeing you there, first you walked in, looking gorgeous than ever in the outfit you put on yourself, then you went and put your hands over his shoulder and lastly, you kiss his cheek.

he froze and zoned out for a few seconds until you waved your hands in front of him.

“let’s get in! it’s about to start” you were about to walk in but sunghoon was quick enough to pull you back to him.

he was holding your waist and pulling you closer to him.

“first, you walk in here, looking prettier than any other person here, no offense to the bride, then you smile and kiss my cheeks. i don’t understand, what’s happening?” he asked, his face is closer than ever to yours.

“i don’t want to open it up now—“ “if not now then when?”

you sighed and closed your eyes.

“i only have one question”

“shoot”

“did you really regret what you did back then?”

“of course i did, i still do” he reached your hand to hold it, “look at where it got us”

“why did you ruin my chance with my crush back then?”

��you said only one question”

“okay so maybe now i have more”

“i did it,” sunghoon stayed quiet for a second, is this the right time to confess? “because i really liked you, and i still do” fuck it.

“when we started to fake dating i realized those feelings never left, everytime i look at you i just cant help it but smile, i think it’s way beyond just ‘like you’, i love you y/n” he let go of his hold on your waist and held both of your hands in his.

you stopped breathing for a second as you tried to process what you just heard.

“park sunghoon” you whispered and he hummed.

“i’m here baby”

“i hate you” you said and sunghoon could swear his heart dropped.

“i hate you for making me hate you so much to the point it ruined our friendship for so long” you continued, “you could’ve confessed your feelings and we could’ve been the best highschool couple by now”

sunghoon furrowed his eyebrows, he got so confused by your words.

“if you still didn’t get it, i happen to love you too, you dumbass” you laughed.

without giving you a warning he pulled you into a kiss with a big grin on his face.

it was a desperate kiss, as if he was waiting to do this for so long. both of you didn’t want to part away but you did eventually because of the lack of oxygen.

“i can’t believe we fucked this up because of this stupid painting in seventh grade” that was the first thing he said afterwards.

“you fucked this up and it’s not just a stupid painting!!” you argued and he laughed as he hugged you tightly.

“i’m joking, i’m really sorry for that, and for the crush thing in eighth grade too” he grinned, “but he was just not good for you, you had me the whole time and still wanted him”

you kissed him again and smiled.

“i was too blind i guess”

“can you two cut it off lovebirds? the wedding is about to start” both of you turned your heads and saw annoyed jay standing in front of you.

“sorry! coming” both of you said at the same time.

as you sat one next to each other, sunghoon interlocked your fingers together.

“hey” he whispered and you hummed.

“hearing ‘i love you’ from you really warmed my heart” he smiled, “just letting you know”

“oh really?” you asked and he nodded.

“i love you” you kissed his cheek.

“i’ll keep saying this until you’ll get tired of it”

“which is basically never”

jay groaned and turned to look at the both of you “can you please just stop being so lovey dovey oh my god”

“you were exactly like that on your first days with your girlfriend stop being such an attention seeker” jake rolled his eyes and jay hit him.

“shhhh!! why don’t we just pay attention to heeseung that’s crying right there?”

“just took a picture! will definitely use it to blackmail him!”

“poor little thing only wanted to get emotional in his brother’s wedding”

“soon to be us at sunghoon’s and y/n’s wedding”

and they lived happily ever after! i mean, as much as you can when you have those six people as your friends and karina’s nonstop questions about future kids.

PERM TAG-LIST ; @sungwhoonz @ohdudehesflirting @unlikelysublimekryptonite @deobiis @manooffline @miumiuoi @in-somnias-world @lovelovelovebts @filmofhybe @wonbinsnovia @daegutowns @aurumiee @soobywon @dhriti-stories @ariadores @firstclassjaylee @watamotee33 @moons-v @s00buwu @hoonheepretty @jjeoni-7 @dimplewonie (bold means cannot be tagged)

[goldfades]

STOLEN MOMENTS IN PARKING LOTS──RAFE CAMERON

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for this request!

─ summary | rafe tries to provoke jealousy by showing public affection for sofia, but as tensions rise, he confronts you and reveals his feelings.

─ pairing | rafe cameron x ex!fem!reader

─ warnings | NSFW!! (with plot) under the cut!! p in v, praise, pretty soft, nothing too cray but it's in the backseat of his car soooo. some angst in the beginning, rafe tries to fight someone (when does he not?), mention of drinking, ummm maybe cheating cause i lowk forgot about sofia cause bro does break up with her... but wtv! it's for the plot!

─ ev's notes | my requests are open if you wanna send anything in! i actually love rafe more than i do life itself and... i wanna feed yall so PLEASE. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD SEND ME ANYTHING. anyways... sorry i just had to get that out there!!

ok love u bye!!! pls send me requests!!!!!!

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The air feels thick around you as you weave through the crowded beach, trying to keep your gaze anywhere but on Rafe. His laugh, louder than it needs to be, cuts through the noise of the party, and you can’t help but notice Sofia wrapped around him.

She leans into his touch, her smile bright as his hands roam casually over her waist, like he used to do with you. You catch a glimpse of them, Rafe pulling her closer, his lips moving to hers in a display meant for everyone, but especially for you. You look away, forcing yourself to focus on the bonfire, the drinks, anything. But it’s impossible to ignore the magnetic pull. It’s like he’s everywhere at once, the weight of his stare pressing into you even though his attention should be elsewhere.

And maybe it is—his lips are on her��but his eyes, whenever you risk a glance, are always searching for you.

You tighten your grip around your drink, jaw clenched against the swirl of emotions building in your chest. Each stolen glance at Rafe pulls at something deep inside you, but you refuse to let it show. The heat of the bonfire warms your skin, the crackling flames a welcome distraction as you will yourself to block out the image of him with her.

The party hums around you, but all you can hear is his laughter—so familiar, yet distant, like he’s a world away, even though he’s right there.

But before the thoughts can spiral further, someone steps into your line of sight, blocking the view you’ve been pretending not to care about. You blink up, surprised to see a guy you vaguely recognize from around town, his easy smile and tousled brown hair a stark contrast to the tension thrumming inside you.

“Hey,” he says, his voice smooth, the kind that carries well over the music. “You looked like you could use some company.”

You offer him a half-smile, more out of politeness than genuine interest, but something in you shifts—an instinct, maybe, to distract yourself, to prove to yourself that you’re fine. If Rafe can move, so can you. So, you shrug, meeting his gaze for longer than you have with anyone all night.

“Maybe I do,” you reply, your voice light despite the ache still gnawing at the back of your mind.

He steps closer, leaning casually on the railing next to you. “Name’s Tyler. You’ve been to these parties before, right?”

You nod, taking a sip of your drink, your eyes drifting briefly toward where Rafe stands before snapping back to Tyler. He follows your gaze but doesn’t comment on it. “Yeah, once or twice,” you say, playing along.

Tyler’s grin widens, sensing an opening. “Let me guess, you’re not a fan of the scene? You don’t seem like the type to be into the chaos.”

You laugh softly, surprising yourself. “Not usually,” you admit, swirling your drink. “But it’s better than staying home.”

“Yeah, I get that,” he says, his eyes roaming over your face, lingering a second longer than necessary. “But I’ve gotta say, I’m glad you came out tonight.”

There’s a warmth in his words, a casual flirtation that makes it easy to forget the lingering tension in your chest. You tilt your head, giving him a look you haven’t given anyone in a while—playful, even if only for the moment. “And why’s that?”

His smile turns a bit more mischievous as he leans in, lowering his voice. “Because I wouldn’t have had the chance to meet you.”

You feel a small spark of satisfaction flare inside, the kind that comes from knowing you’re being noticed, admired, even if it’s fleeting. You toy with the edge of your cup, glancing up at him beneath your lashes. “Well, aren’t you charming.”

Tyler laughs, a low, easy sound that feels like a balm against the tension in your mind. “Just telling the truth,” he says, his fingers brushing lightly against your arm as he gestures toward the fire. “Want to grab a seat by the bonfire? I’d hate for you to be stuck standing here all night.”

You hesitate for a second, glancing toward the beach where Rafe and Sofia are still tangled in each other. But the sight no longer stings as much—it’s dulled, replaced by a sudden urge to push back, to be seen with someone else, just as he’s parading her around. It’s petty, you know that. But right now, you don’t care.

“Sure,” you say, offering Tyler a real smile this time, one that lights up your eyes. “Why not?”

As the two of you make your way to the fire, you can feel Rafe’s eyes on you, burning hotter than the flames, but you don’t look back. Not yet. You settle onto one of the logs beside Tyler, letting his easy conversation and light touches distract you, pretending for a moment that you don’t feel the weight of Rafe’s gaze following your every move.

A few hours (and drinks) later, you find yourself leaning against Tyler’s car, his hands on your waist, lips trailing down your neck as the distant sounds of the party fade into the background. You’ve lost track of how long you’ve been out here, away from the noise, away from him. The warmth of the alcohol buzzes through you, making it easy to forget about the tension that had been gnawing at you all night.

Tyler’s mouth finds yours, and you lean into it, closing the gap between you. His kiss is heated but unhurried, his touch light on your skin, and for the first time tonight, you let yourself slip into the moment. The back of your mind, the part that’s always aware of Rafe, quiets—just for now. Tyler’s hands move down to your hips, pulling you closer, and you tilt your head, deepening the kiss as his fingers trace soft patterns over your waist.

For a few blissful seconds, you don’t think about Rafe at all. It’s just you, Tyler, and the cool night air pressing in around you. Tyler’s touch is comforting, a distraction, a way to escape the complicated mess of emotions Rafe always drags you into. And for the first time tonight, you don’t feel like you’re suffocating under the weight of what used to be.

Tyler breaks the kiss, his lips still brushing against yours as he grins. “You sure know how to make a guy’s night, sweetheart,” he teases, his voice low and breathy, pulling you in even further.

You laugh softly, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “Do I, really?” You reply, matching his grin, feeling the haze of everything slip further away.

Tyler’s hands tighten around your waist, his mouth once again capturing yours as you press against the cool metal of the car. His kisses are eager now, more insistent, and you match his energy, allowing yourself to get lost in the moment. The taste of alcohol lingers between you, the sound of your breathing mingling with the distant crash of waves and faint music from the party you left behind.

You close your eyes, momentarily letting go of everything—of Rafe, of the tangled mess he left behind in your head. Tyler’s lips move against yours, and for just a second, you feel light. Free.

But then, everything shifts.

The tension in the air thickens in an instant, and you sense it before you even open your eyes. A sudden presence, looming and charged, like a storm about to break. When you finally pull back from Tyler and glance up, your heart stumbles in your chest.

Rafe stands a few feet away, his expression dark—dangerously dark. His eyes lock onto yours first, blazing with an anger so intense it makes your stomach flip. Then his gaze flicks to Tyler, and you can practically feel the rage rolling off him in waves.

“What the hell are you doing?” Rafe’s voice is low, almost a growl, but it’s enough to send a chill down your spine.

Tyler, oblivious to the storm he’s just walked into, straightens up, his arm still loosely around your waist. “Relax, man,” he says, trying to sound casual, though there’s a note of uncertainty in his voice. “We were just—”

Rafe doesn’t let him finish. He takes a step closer, fists clenched at his sides, his whole body vibrating with barely-contained fury. “I wasn’t talking to you,” he spits, his eyes still fixed on you. But then his gaze cuts back to Tyler, and something dangerous flashes there. “But if you don’t get your hands off her right now, we’re gonna have a problem.”

Tyler scoffs, dropping his arm but not backing down. “What’s your deal, Cameron? She’s not your girl anymore.”

Those words are like a lit match thrown into a gasoline fire.

In an instant, Rafe’s on him, shoving Tyler hard against the side of the car. “What did you just say?” Rafe’s voice is low and menacing, his face inches from Tyler’s. His fists are white-knuckled, trembling with the need to unleash the anger bottled up inside him. “You think you can just put your hands on her like that?”

Tyler stumbles, but he manages to push back, his hands coming up defensively. “Chill, man! It’s not that serious!”

But it is. For Rafe, it’s everything.

You can see it in the way his jaw clenches, in the wild, desperate look in his eyes as they flicker between you and Tyler. He’s spiraling, and you know this side of him all too well—the part that lashes out, that destroys when he feels like he’s losing control.

“Rafe, stop,” you say, your voice sharper than you intended, cutting through the haze of tension. You step forward, placing yourself between him and Tyler, your hand pressing against Rafe’s chest. His muscles are taut beneath your touch, coiled and ready to explode. “This isn’t worth it.”

For a moment, Rafe doesn’t move. His chest heaves with ragged breaths, his eyes locked on yours, searching, desperate for something he can’t find. He looks down at your hand on his chest, and for a second, you think he might back down.

But then he shakes his head, his voice tight with frustration. “What’s your fucking problem?” he snaps, his words aimed at you now. “Do you not miss me? Is this how you move on?”

You flinch, taken aback by the raw vulnerability buried beneath his anger. His words hit harder than any shove, cutting through the defenses you’ve been trying to build all night. You open your mouth to respond, but the words stick in your throat.

Rafe’s hands grip your arms suddenly, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to hold you in place. His eyes bore into yours, intense and searching, the anger faltering for a split second as something else flickers there—something almost like hurt. “Tell me,” he demands, his voice quieter now, but no less desperate. “Tell me you don’t miss me.”

Rafe's grip tightens for a fraction of a second, his eyes still locked on yours, searching for something, anything, that will ease the storm raging inside him. His question lingers between you, thick and heavy, but you can’t answer him, not here, not like this. Tyler, still lingering nearby, lets out an irritated scoff, but there’s a tremor in it. He knows better than to challenge Rafe further—everyone does.

You feel Rafe’s breath against your skin, shallow and ragged, as if he's waiting for the moment you confirm his worst fears. But instead of answering him, you take a deep breath, your hand brushing over his chest. “Come on,” you murmur, voice softer now, low enough that only he can hear. “Let’s go.”

For a brief moment, Rafe hesitates, his gaze flickering toward Tyler, like he’s still deciding whether to throw another punch. But your hand slides down, gently tugging at his arm, and his attention snaps back to you. Slowly, his grip loosens.

Tyler, sensing the shift, straightens up but keeps his distance, his bravado from earlier slipping away as he watches you lead Rafe toward the beach. “Whatever, man,” Tyler mutters, though his voice wavers, betraying the fear he's been masking. “You two deserve each other.”

You don’t even look back at him, and Rafe doesn’t either. His focus is entirely on you now, the tension between his clenched jaw and the way he follows your lead without protest. Tyler slinks off, disappearing into the crowd as if he’s suddenly remembered who he’s dealing with.

As you walk further from the party, the sounds of the bonfire and distant music grow fainter, leaving only the soft rush of the waves and the cool breeze whipping against your skin. Rafe’s fingers brush against your hand, and though the anger in him hasn’t fully burned out, his pace slows as the two of you near the shore.

The silence between you is heavy, electric. You can feel the weight of everything unsaid pressing down, the tension thick enough to suffocate. His frustration, his desperation—it’s all still there, simmering beneath the surface. But now, without an audience, without the pretense of Tyler or Sofia, it feels rawer, more exposed.

Rafe stops just shy of the water, his grip on you tightening again, though not out of anger this time. It’s almost as if he’s holding onto you for stability, for some anchor to stop him from drowning in whatever dark place his mind has gone. “Why are you doing this?” he asks, his voice quiet, rough around the edges, but no longer carrying the rage that had consumed him moments before. “Why are you acting like you don’t care?”

You feel the words clawing at the back of your throat, the urge to lash out or deflect, but the vulnerability in his eyes makes it impossible. Instead, you stand there, caught between the pull of the past and the mess of emotions swirling around you now.

It’s all too complicated, and yet somehow, painfully simple. You’ve never stopped caring. But Rafe… Rafe has always made things more difficult than they needed to be.

Rafe’s question lingers in the salty night air, hanging between you like a taut string waiting to snap. His eyes search your face for something—an answer, an apology, anything to make sense of the confusion brewing in his mind. But you’re not ready to give him what he wants. Not yet, at least.

The sound of the ocean crashing against the shore fills the silence between you, your pulse racing in time with the waves. You look away, focusing on the dark horizon, your toes sinking into the cool sand as you try to gather your thoughts. Why are you doing this? The question echoes in your mind, but it’s not as simple as Rafe seems to think.

Maybe it’s because you’re tired—tired of feeling like he’s pulling the strings, tired of the toxic push and pull of your relationship. Maybe you’re doing it because it hurts too much to care about someone who only seems to care when you’re slipping away. Or maybe it’s because, deep down, you know that no matter how hard he tries to provoke you, to force a reaction, the person who’s really hurting is him.

You glance at him, and for the first time in a while, you let yourself really look. His eyes are still wild with anger, but there’s something else there too—something that cracks through the hard shell he’s built around himself. His chest rises and falls unevenly, his breathing ragged from the tension that’s been gripping him since the moment he saw you with Tyler. His hands, though no longer tight on your arms, still linger, as if afraid you’ll slip away if he lets go entirely.

“I’m not acting like I don’t care,” you say finally, your voice quieter than you intended. There’s a vulnerability in the admission that makes your stomach twist, but you force yourself to hold his gaze. “I just… I can’t do this with you, Rafe. Not like this.”

He looks like he’s about to argue, his brows furrowing, but then he hesitates, the frustration flickering in his eyes giving way to something closer to desperation. “Then how?” His voice is quieter now, too, though it’s laced with an edge of exasperation. “Tell me how, because I don’t know what to do anymore.”

You almost laugh at the absurdity of it all, but the ache in your chest keeps you from it. He doesn’t know what to do? The guy who’s spent the entire night trying to make you jealous, parading Sofia around like some twisted declaration of victory, now stands in front of you, unsure, vulnerable.

But this is Rafe Cameron. The boy who hides his insecurities behind anger and control. The boy who pushes you away just to pull you back in, like some sick game where neither of you ever really wins.

“You think this is all my fault?” you ask, taking a step back, breaking the physical connection between you. His hands fall away, and though his body stays rooted in place, his expression twists as if the loss of contact has left him exposed. “You think you can just act like that all night, throw Sofia in my face, and I’m supposed to be okay with it?”

Rafe winces at your words, and for a moment, he looks away, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I wasn’t trying to—” He stops, gritting his teeth, clearly wrestling with what to say. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Right,” you mutter, folding your arms over your chest, the bitterness in your tone impossible to hide. “Because trying to hurt me is the only way you know how to get my attention?”

He stares at you, his lips parting like he wants to protest, but nothing comes out. Instead, he clenches his jaw and looks down, the anger draining from his posture, leaving behind only exhaustion. “I didn’t want to hurt you,” he says finally, so quietly you almost don’t hear him over the waves. “I just… I didn’t know how to make you miss me. I don’t know how to do this without screwing it up.”

The confession hits you harder than you expect, a crack in the armor he’s always so careful to maintain. It’s the first time all night he’s shown you anything real, anything beyond the bluster and anger he uses to shield himself. And it leaves you speechless.

Rafe lets out a frustrated breath, rubbing the back of his neck as he stares down at the sand, avoiding your gaze. “I know I’m not… good at this. At us.” His voice wavers slightly, like admitting it is a betrayal of the tough, unshakable image he’s spent his whole life building. “But I can’t stand the thought of you with someone else. Especially not him.”

There it is. The raw, vulnerable truth buried beneath layers of anger and bravado. The truth you’ve always known but never heard him admit out loud.

You swallow hard, feeling the sting of his words settle into the hollow ache in your chest. “Rafe… I can’t keep doing this. The fighting, the jealousy—it’s too much.” Your voice cracks, and you hate how exposed you feel saying it out loud. But it needs to be said.

His eyes snap back to yours, wide and frantic, as if he’s afraid you’re slipping through his fingers. “I’ll stop,” he blurts out, stepping closer, the desperation back in his voice. “I’ll do whatever you want, just don’t—don’t walk away.”

You bite your lip, torn between the part of you that wants to believe him and the part of you that knows it’s not that simple. He’s said things like this before, made promises in moments of weakness, only to fall back into old patterns when the anger returns. But this time, there’s something different in his eyes—a genuine fear that this might really be it.

“I don’t know if you can stop, Rafe,” you say quietly, the honesty of your words hanging heavy between you. “You’re always so angry… and I can’t be the one trying to fix it every time.”

He doesn’t respond right away, his jaw tightening as he absorbs what you’ve said. But then, to your surprise, he nods, his expression shifting from desperation to something more resigned. “You’re right,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “I am angry. But not at you.”

You blink, taken aback by the admission. It’s the first time he’s ever acknowledged that the rage he carries isn’t about you—not really. It’s always been deeper than that, rooted in things he’s never fully let you in on.

“So what then?” you ask, your tone softer now, more searching. “What are you so angry about?”

Rafe looks away again, his jaw clenched as if he’s trying to hold something back. But then he sighs, running both hands through his hair in a gesture that screams frustration. “Everything,” he mutters, his voice rough. “My family, my life… I don’t know. I don’t know how to fix it.”

You watch him, your heart aching at the sight of him so lost, so broken. For a moment, all the frustration you’ve felt toward him melts away, replaced by the familiar ache of wanting to help him, to fix what’s been broken between you.

But you know that’s not your job. It never was.

Rafe’s confession hangs in the air, weighty and raw, his vulnerability exposed in a way that catches you off guard. For a moment, all the anger and frustration that has built up between you feels insignificant. The walls he keeps so tightly guarded have crumbled, and in their place, there's a boy you recognize—a boy desperate for something solid in a world that’s been spiraling out of control.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you reach out, brushing your fingers against his arm. His breath hitches at the contact, and slowly, his gaze finds yours again. His eyes are dark, a mix of anger, longing, and something deeper, something that’s always been there but never fully spoken between you two.

“I’m not walking away,” you murmur, barely able to find your voice as the tension between you thickens. “I’m still here, Rafe. But you need to figure out what you want… and stop trying to hurt me to get there.”

His expression softens at your words, the desperation giving way to a flicker of hope. For a moment, he just stares at you, his lips parted like he’s trying to say something, but no words come. Instead, he steps closer, his hands brushing your waist, hesitant, as if testing the boundaries between you.

“Tell me what to do,” he murmurs, his voice rough and low. “Tell me how to fix this.”

The warmth of his touch sends a shiver down your spine, and despite everything—despite the anger, the games, the toxic cycle—you find yourself leaning into him. The truth is, you don’t have all the answers. You never have. But standing this close to him, feeling the heat radiating from his body, you know one thing for certain—you miss him. As much as you’ve tried to push him away, you can’t deny the pull that’s always been there, the magnetic connection between you.

“You start by being honest with me,” you say quietly, your fingers finding their way to the front of his shirt, gripping the fabric as if anchoring yourself. “No more games, Rafe.”

He nods, swallowing hard as his hands slide up your waist, pulling you closer, the space between you shrinking with each passing second. “I’ll be honest,” he whispers, his breath ghosting over your skin, sending a rush of heat through your body. “I’m done with the games, baby.”

Before you can respond, his lips crash against yours in a kiss that’s desperate and hungry, all the frustration and longing pouring into the contact. It’s not gentle; it’s raw and unfiltered, like he’s been holding back for too long, and now that he has you, he can’t stop himself.

You gasp against his mouth, your hands tangling in his hair as you kiss him back just as fiercely. The world around you blurs into nothingness—the sound of the waves, the distant party—it all fades away until the only thing that exists is him. His hands roam your body, gripping you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear, and you melt into him, the heat between you building with every passing second.

He pulls you even closer, his body pressing against yours as his lips move with a kind of desperation that makes your heart race. It's overwhelming, the way he kisses you, the way he holds you like you're the only thing keeping him tethered to reality. You feel the intensity of everything he's been holding back—the anger, the pain, the desire—and it ignites something deep within you.

You break the kiss, gasping for air, but he doesn’t let you pull away for long. His lips find your neck, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down the side of your throat, and you can’t stop the soft moan that escapes your lips. His name tumbles from your mouth in a breathless whisper, and you feel him tense against you, a low growl rumbling in his chest.

“I’ve missed you,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice rough and hoarse as his hands slide under your shirt, his touch igniting every nerve in your body. “God, I’ve missed you so much.”

Your heart stutters at his words, the sincerity in his voice taking you off guard. It’s not just the physical connection that’s pulling you back in—it’s the raw emotion behind it, the way he’s finally letting you see the side of him he’s been hiding for so long.

And then, somehow, you find yourself back in parking lot, against his car. His lips never leave yours, his kiss hungry and desperate.

“Rafe…” You barely manage to get his name out as he lifts you slightly, pushing you against the side of his car, his body pressing you firmly against the cool metal. His lips find yours again, and this time the kiss is slower, more deliberate, as if he’s savoring the taste of you.

Your mind spins, overwhelmed by the intensity of it all—the way he touches you, the way he kisses you like he’s afraid this might be the last time. There's a desperation in the way he clings to you, like he's trying to make up for every moment he's hurt you, every second he's pushed you away.

Rafe’s hands grip your hips as he pulls you tighter against him, his touch searing through the thin fabric of your shirt. The way his body presses into yours is almost suffocating, but in a way that you crave, like you’ve been starved for this kind of contact for too long. His lips move against yours with a mixture of urgency and tenderness, a contrast that leaves you dizzy, struggling to catch your breath.

Every kiss feels like a question, as if he’s asking for more, for you to let him in completely again. And you want to. Despite all the games, all the hurt, there’s something undeniable about being with him—something that makes your heart race in ways you haven’t felt since the beginning.

You can feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles tighten as his hands slide up your back, his fingertips grazing the bare skin just under the hem of your shirt. It’s almost like he’s trying to memorize the feel of you, as if this is his last chance to make things right.

His lips leave yours for just a moment, trailing down your jaw and finding that sensitive spot just below your ear. You shiver as his hot breath fans against your skin, your body reacting instinctively to his every move. His name falls from your lips in a breathless whisper, and you feel him pause, his breath hitching at the sound.

You feel his hand reach for the door behind you, opening it before he practically threw you into the backseat. Rafe climbs on top of you, and his lips are on yours again. You moan at the contact, your head falling back into the cool leather of his backseat. God, how you missed those cushions.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he murmurs against your mouth, his voice rough with emotion, barely holding himself together. His hands tighten their grip on your waist, and you feel his desperation in every touch, in every kiss that follows. It’s not just physical—there’s a vulnerability there, a need that goes far deeper than the surface.

Your heart skips a beat as you realize what he’s truly saying. This isn’t just about the heat of the moment or the chemistry that’s always drawn you two together. It’s about him finally letting you see past the walls he’s built—past the anger, the bravado, and the façade he shows everyone else.

You tilt your head back, giving him more access as his lips move lower, trailing down your collarbone, and your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer. The world around you seems to blur, the distant sound of the waves crashing against the shore and the soft hum of the party fading into the background until all that’s left is the two of you, tangled together in the dim glow of the night.

He leans back slightly and all you could hear in the darkness of the night was the clink of his belt, and a shiver went down your spine as you think about what's coming. You almost immediately slip out of your shorts as you slid back, giving yourself enough room to spread out before Rafe is in between your legs.

You can make out his face in the darkness, the faint moonlight casting shadows across his sharp features, highlighting the tension in his jaw. His eyes, those piercing blue eyes that have always had a way of making you feel seen—and sometimes too exposed—are locked on you, and it makes your heart (and pussy) beat faster.

“Rafe,” you breathe, your voice barely audible as his lips return to yours in a searing kiss. It’s slow this time, deliberate, as if he’s savoring every second, every taste of you. His hands slide up your sides, taking the edge of your shirt with them, and your breath hitches as you feel the cool night air against your skin.

Then, you feel his warm tip against your thigh. Never leaving your lips, Rafe slowly leans his cock right into your sopping pussy. You let out a soft moan, the feeling of being filled up by his cock again making your head spin with pure bliss.

“Oh, shit,” he draws out as his head falls back, the feeling of your warm cunt overwhelming. “God I missed you, pretty baby.”

And it feels like time has stopped, like the only thing that matters is the heat between you, the way your bodies fit together perfectly, like this is where you’re meant to be. His hands roam over your back, your sides, exploring with a kind of urgency that makes your pulse quicken as he pushes in deeper into your pussy.

It hurts, at first until he bottoms you out. He's still for a moment as he leans his forehead against yours, his breathing heavy. After he felt you tighten around him, he instantly pulled your hips before he began thrusting in and out of you slowly, as if he was warming up.

“Oh, fuck,” you cry out as your hands find his shoulders. Your breath comes out in short, ragged gasps as you cling to him, your body responding to his in ways that are both familiar and intoxicatingly new.

He's fucking into you at this point, his own grunts echoing in the empty car. You could feel the windows begin to fog up as his thrusts become more sharp, more meaningful. It’s overwhelming, the intensity of it all, but you can’t stop yourself—you don’t want to. You’ve missed this, missed him, even if you won’t admit it out loud.

At the sound of your cries of pleasure, Rafe chuckles breathless. “Oh, yeah? You like that?”

All you could do was nod as he begins increasing the speed of his thrusts, he was rocking into you with brute force but he was still gentle, somehow. His hands reach up to find your throat, holding it as he fucks into you harder. Rafe lifts your hips a little more so that he could reach that sweet spot, and you knew it was over.

“Rafe, fuck!” You cry as your head falls back into the cushion, your mouth slightly open and your eyes rolling back in your head. You're shaking, at this point—you're not holding back whatsoever.

Anyone who was walking by his car could probably see and hear what's happening, and probably think he was murdering you. And they were right, he was absolutely obliterating your insides. But you didn't care, and neither did Rafe.

His breathing is heavy, matching the erratic rhythm of his hips, and he leans closer, his forehead resting against yours. His scent—a mix of saltwater, cologne, and something distinctly him—invades your senses, grounding you in the moment, making everything else disappear.

“Oh, my god I'm gonna—”

Before you could even finish your sentence, the tight knot in your stomach snaps and it feels like everything is still for a moment. You can't even hear yourself anymore, it feels like you were on a cloud as you cum around his cock.

A few more deep thrusts and he was spilling inside you, his own body shaking above you. His lips find yours in a sloppy and desperate kiss, his hips keeping you placed right beneath him. He doesn't pull out—no, he wouldn't even dare. He doesn't want to. Not yet, of course. You both just lay in the afterglow of your lovemaking.

“I missed you,” he finally whispers, his voice rough and edged with something almost like pain. His fingers tighten around your waist, as though he’s afraid you’ll slip away if he lets go. The words hang in the air between you, heavy with meaning, and your heart stutters at the vulnerability laced in them.

For a moment, neither of you moves. His breath is warm against your skin, his presence overwhelming but somehow comforting, like a weight you didn’t know you needed. You want to say something, to respond, but the words get caught in your throat, tangled up in the whirlwind of emotions that threaten to consume you.

Instead, you reach up, your fingers grazing his jawline, feeling the stubble under your fingertips. It’s a small gesture, but it speaks volumes—an acknowledgment of what you both know but can’t yet fully voice. His eyes close at the contact, and for a split second, the tension melts away, leaving just the two of you in this moment.

Then his lips are on yours again, but this time it’s different. It’s slower, more deliberate, like he’s savoring every second, every taste of you. His hands trail up your sides, pulling you impossibly closer, and your body responds in kind, the need for him growing stronger with every kiss.

You lose yourself in the feeling of him—how perfect he feels when he's inside of you, the heat of his skin, the way his fingers trace patterns along your back. The world around you fades away, leaving just the two of you in the darkness, tangled together in a way that feels both new and familiar at the same time.

And for the first time in what feels like forever, everything else fades away. The jealousy, the anger, the hurt—it all dissolves into the background, leaving just the two of you, wrapped up in each other, caught in a moment that you know you won’t soon forget.

You’ve been through hell with Rafe, and maybe there’s more waiting ahead, but right now, none of that matters. Right now, all you can think about is him—the way he touches you, the way he looks at you like you’re the only thing keeping him grounded, the only thing that’s real.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[greensagephase]

What If...? (Father's Day)

Pairings: Miguel O'Hara x Female!Reader Summary: It’s Father's Day and you celebrate Miguel, the father of your son. You surprise him with an unexpected gift! Word Count: 4.7k Warnings: pre-established relationship; reader is married to Miguel; parents of a three year old; breast fondling; oral sex, male receiving; unprotected sex (pls be safe); p in v; light spanking; soft Miguel Masterlist Link to part 1!

MINORS PLS DO NOT READ

In the kitchen, you put away some dishes you washed earlier from breakfast. You take care of other little tasks around your kitchen, making sure it’s organized and cleaned for dinner time.

In the living room, Miguel is hanging picture frames since you recently took new family photos. You’re both taking the time to do some quick chores since Gabrielito is taking a nap in his room.

Among your tasks, you put away some leftover homemade tortilla chips from this morning.

Today is Father’s Day and of course, you’re spoiling Miguel just like he spoiled you for Mother’s Day. You cooked his favorite breakfast - red chilaquiles, two fried eggs, and fried beans topped with queso fresco - a typical Mexican dish that can be served both for breakfast and dinner, hence the tortilla chips.

With a smile, you recall this morning when you surprised Miguel with his favorite breakfast in bed. You bought him flowers because you wholeheartedly believe men also deserve to receive some, at least your man does, and then cuddled with him and Gabriel for a while.

It’s now around one in the afternoon and you’ve had lunch already. Miguel subtly told you earlier in the week that he wanted to spend the whole day at home with his family and do little tasks around the house, like hanging new picture frames. That’s why you decided to order takeout for lunch from one of Miguel’s favorite places, at least.

However, just because you plan to stay home all day doesn’t mean you didn’t plan something fun and special for the evening. Your plan is to cook another one of his favorite dishes for dinner and then end the day with a movie night.

You’ve bought Miguel’s favorite snacks and drinks for the movie, and you have plans to make the living room even more cozy than it already is with blankets and pillows.

You snap out of your thoughts when you hear Miguel’s drill from the living room, a smile forming on your face.

Your handy husband, gotta love him.

You grab two cold drinks from the fridge, one for Miguel and one for you before heading to the living room. You find Miguel standing in front of one of the walls with a pencil behind his ear as he drills into the wall. He looks so… You have to stop yourself from letting your thoughts wander but wow, he’s so handsome.

“I got you a drink,” you say approaching him.

Miguel turns, smiling at you. “You’re always thinking about me, preciosa. Gracias [precious, thank you],” he says, accepting your offering with appreciation. He opens it and takes a few sips. “Almost done here. ¿Como se mira [how does it look?]?” he asks, pointing his chin towards the wall.

You step closer and take a better look at the pictures of the three of you, smiling.

“It looks fantastic, corazón [heart]. Look at us,” you say softly as your eyes settle on one picture in particular. Miguel is holding Gabrielito, his arm wrapped protectively around his son. The other one? Around your waist in an equally protective manner. The three of you are smiling at the camera, a happy family.

Miguel steps behind you, quickly resting his head on top of yours, his arms finding their rightful place around your waist. “My whole life,” Miguel whispers sweetly. “In one picture alone.”

Your heart swells with love and tenderness. With a sigh, you place your hands on his arms.

“Our little family,” you whisper.

“Si, nuestra familia [yes, our family],” Miguel whispers. He moves his head and pecks your cheek from the side. “El amor de mi vida y mi hijo [the love of my life and my son].” He pecks your cheek again. Again. And again, until he has you giggling like a schoolgirl, his arms tightening around you. “Ven aquí, preciosa [come here, precious],” he murmurs against your lips. “Te amo [I love you].”

“Mm, I love you more,” you murmur back, eyes closed as you bask in Miguel’s attention.

“Impossible,” Miguel murmurs, his lips moving to your neck to continue their mission. “You’re my whole universe - the very air I breathe.”

With a low moan, you move your head aside to grant him more access.

“Good girl,” Miguel says, his mouth on your neck. He peppers your neck with more kisses before he gently bites the soft flesh, eliciting another sweet moan from you. “Dios, te amo mi reyna [God, I love you my queen].”

“I love you,” you reply. “Te amo, mi corazón [I love you, my heart].”

Miguel smiles and plants a few more kisses on your neck, creating an ache between his and your thighs. He pauses his kissing for a moment to look at the photograph, looking at the three of you. His arms tighten around you, even more somehow, protectively.

He can’t help but think about something. It’s been a few weeks since Mother’s Day, since that night when you both decided to start trying for a second baby. Ever since that night, the two of you have been going at it, which is not unusual, really. Your passion for each other has always been ignited, no matter the ups and downs of a normal, healthy marriage. Even when you both thought you’d find it difficult to make time as a couple with the arrival of your firstborn, it turned out that your baby boy only strengthened that passion - that love.

So, Miguel supposes your recent love making moments are not shocking, however he can’t deny that there’s an extra special layer because you’re trying for a second baby. Either way, he knows the two of you have been going at it and he can’t help but wonder if it’s happened yet, if his seed has taken and you’re now carrying another baby in the beautiful, gorgeous, goddess-like, and breathtaking body you have. The thought makes him giddy.

He really wants to be a dad of two, wants your little family to grow.

“Soon, mi amor [my love], there will be four of us there,” he whispers with hope and longing.

You smile at the thought. “Very soon. I have no doubt,” you whisper.

That makes Miguel grin. He kisses your neck again, his tongue darting out to taste your sweet skin. Your breath hitches when you feel his tongue running down your neck, moving to your shoulder. You lean back on him, pressing your ass to his groin area and immediately feeling his semi-hard cock.

“Miggy,” you whisper.

“Mhm?” Miguel runs his tongue upwards now.

“You’re growing hard.”

“I know, preciosa. Can’t help it,” he whispers. “I’ll stop if you want.” He begins to pull back, understanding you may not be in the mood and being respectful as always of your boundaries.

“No, come here,” you say holding him by his arms, attempting to stop him from moving away from you. Once you feel him pressed against you again, you lean back as much as possible, pressing your ass more firmly on his cock.

“Mmm, you want to, hermosa [beautiful]?” he asks pushing forward.

“Yes, I want to. I want - need you,” you reply realizing you’ve grown so wet just with his neck kisses and bites.

“Say that again,” Miguel whispers.

“I need you,” you whisper, making your husband groan softly.

“I need you, too, preciosa,” he whispers back, his mouth attaching to your neck again. His hands slide up from your waist to your breasts, cupping both of them with his large hands. He brings them closer together, squeezing gently and fondling them.

You whimper softly, laying your hands over his. “They’re a bit sensitive,” you whisper.

Miguel loosens up his grip. “’m sorry, princesa [princess]. Did I hurt you?” he asks, concerned. He begins to massage them even more gently, tenderly.

“No, you didn’t. Don’t worry. I’m just letting you know,” you reassure him. “They’ve been sensitive for a few days.”

“I’m sorry, baby, why didn’t you tell me?” Miguel asks, resting his chin on your shoulder, massaging your sensitive breasts. “I could’ve massaged them for you,” he says genuinely as he knows you find his large and warm hands helpful for these kinds of things - and other things, of course - but especially when you need a little massage, his hands are perfect for it.

“It hasn’t been bad, I promise,” you reply.

“Okay, but I still want to help you,” your sweet husband says, still massaging your tender breasts. “We can stop - we can focus on this, preciosa. I don’t want you hurting or feeling discomfort. Plus, you’ve been feeling fatigued, too. Maybe you ought to rest a bit, mi reyna [my queen].”

“N-no,” you say, shaking your head. “Please? I want to.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

“M’kay, but I’ll be extra gentle with your breasts.” Miguel gives a gentle squeeze, feeling your hardened nipples through your top and bralette. He lowers his hands and pulls your top up by the hem. You aid him by lifting your arms, knowing it’s only the beginning.

In a matter of seconds, you’re both naked in the living room, pressed against each other kissing. Miguel’s hands fondle your ass while your hands glide up and down his back, your nails digging slightly into his skin, leaving goosebumps behind. You chuckle while kissing him, getting an idea. Miguel pulls back, wondering what you’re chuckling about. He soon finds out the reason when you deliver a gentle but firm spank to his ass.

His eyebrows raise, a smirk on his lips. “Oye, oye,” he says in a feigned offended tone. “Spanking your husband’s ass?”

“What about it?” you ask nonchalantly, grinning up at him.

Miguel hums, smirking. He pulls you closer, leaving no space between you. “I love when you use that tone,” he whispers leaning down and taking your bottom lip between his teeth before he kisses you.

You return the kiss, your hands gliding to his hips. You give them a squeeze before you slide one of your hands between your bodies with a clear intention. Not even a second later, Miguel lets out a soft growl as he feels your fingers wrap around his thick cock.

Smiling, you pump his cock gently, swiping your thumb over the engorged tip. You let out a soft hum of approval when you feel pre-cum. “So hard, baby,” you whisper as your hand wraps around it more firmly.

“Mierda, preciosa [shit, precious],” Miguel groans, leaning down and pressing his forehead against yours, his breath fanning over your lips as he feels your fingers’ ministrations.

“I want to please you,” you whisper.

You push Miguel’s arms off you and get down on your knees, still holding his cock in your hand.

“Fuck, preciosa,” he says, looking down at you, the sight of you on your knees with his cock in your hand doing nothing to help his now throbbing member. “You look so pretty for me.”

His words encourage you - fuel you. You lean forward and lick the tip, wiping clean the new droplet of precum, staining your tongue.

“Ah - fuck,” Miguel lets out. “Your teasing licks. You’re gonna end me, mi reyna.”

You chuckle before licking again. “You like that, baby?” You don’t need to ask that, you know Miguel does but you still love to hear him say it.

“Yes - I do - You know I do.”

“I like to hear that, corazón,” you say before you take his cock into your mouth. Your tongue swirls around it, coating it with your saliva.

“Mi-erdaa- fuck- fuck - preciosa,” Miguel grunts.

You take more of him, struggling to take his size even years later because he’s so big. You slide back, only leaving the tip in to look at the rest of his cock for a second. It’s so damn big sometimes you’re still surprised at the fact that you can take him both in your mouth and pussy.

You lean forward, taking more of Miguel. Your mouth gets stuffed with your husband's cock, stretching your mouth. You hollow your cheeks out, causing Miguel to groan, before you begin to bop your head, settling into a rhythm that you know he loves.

“Fu- ayy - amor [love] - Esa boquita [that little mouth]- you're killing me”

You look up at him, making Miguel moan. “You look so pretty, preciosa. Look at those pretty eyes.” He cups your face with one hand, caressing your cheek tenderly. You notice the way his stomach and legs flex, fighting back the urge to move his hips. Tapping his thigh, you let him know he may do it.

He bites his bottom lip, understanding, before he holds your head still. He always does that, not to keep you still for his own need but to ensure he doesn't hurt you, it's the last thing he ever wants to do.

He groans as he pushes forward, his tip hitting the back of your throat. He stays like that for a few seconds, eyes closed and appreciating the way your mouth feels around him before he slides out, only leaving the tip in for a second before he pushes back in. He repeats his actions for a few moments, grunting as he feels your sweet, small mouth struggle to take him in but still trying nonetheless.

“That’s enough, preciosa, or I'm gonna cum in your mouth,” he says pulling out gently. You both look at his cock, shining with your saliva and his precum.

You lick your lips and lean forward again before taking the tip in your mouth again, sucking it gently.

“Ahhh- ahh- fuckkkk!!”

You moan, hearing Miguel's voice.

“Mmm,” you murmur, closing your eyes as you suck on his tip. You swirl your tongue greedily, trying to get more reactions from him because his grunts and whimpers always turn you on. Unfortunately, Miguel cups your face with both his hands, holding your head still. You whine, opening your mouth and reluctantly releasing him. “Miggyyy.”

“Shh,” he replies. “I’m gonna cum in your mouth if you keep going with that little mouth of yours.” He helps you up to your feet, always the gentleman.

“I want to please you,” you start, pouting. “It’s Father’s Day.”

That makes Miguel’s gaze soften. He pulls you into his arms, embracing you. “You want to give me a blow job for Father’s Day?” he whispers against your cheek before kissing it.

“Mhmmm.”

“How sweet, preciosa.” He kisses your cheek again, moving to your lips to kiss them. “So sweet - so sweet, my little pretty wife. You’re the sweetest.” He kisses your other cheek, your forehead, your nose, and chin. Your entire face is getting peppered with kisses.

“Migs, I’m the one that’s supposed to spoil you today,” you murmur, making him laugh.

“Who says you’re not spoiling me? Getting to kiss you is one of the best gifts I could receive,” he says continuing to kiss you. “But if you’re thinking in terms of this,” he pauses and motions to the state you’re both in - naked, aroused, and with the need to make love. “You know what I would love more than a blow job?” He leans close to your ear.

You nod, whimpering as he squeezes your ass cheeks with both hands. “Yea- yeah - mhmm.”

“Why don’t I show you instead?” he murmurs, tugging on your earlobe gently with his teeth.

“That sounds - good to me,” you whisper, your pussy soaked and needy for your husband’s cock.

So he does.

Miguel grabs a blanket from one of the couches and spreads it on the living room floor. He wastes no time to bring you to your knees, positioning himself behind you and pushing your torso down, leaving your ass high in the air.

He smacks your ass cheek firmly, eliciting a whimper from you and leaving a sting on your skin.

“Gonna take this pussy from the back, mi amor [my love],” Miguel mumbles, his cock hard and needy, ready to be buried deep, deep inside you. He pushes your legs apart with his knee, pressing behind you and rubbing his cock against your heat. He groans loudly, feeling how wet you are. “Mierda [shit] - you’re drenched, princesita [little princess]. You’re so eager for my cock?” he asks, moving his hips to rub his length up and down your slit, making you whine with need. “So eager to get fucked from behind - to get this pretty pussy filled with my cum?

“Yes - yes - I want it, Miggy,” you reply eagerly, moving your body to get more friction. You rub yourself against his body, pressing your ass to his hips. The movement earns you another spank.

“So needy, princesita - rubbing yourself on me like that,” Miguel murmurs, squeezing your ass cheek with his large hand. He lands another spank on your ass as he rubs against you, coating his cock with your sleek. “Good girl,” he praises, loving how soaked and needy you are. “Gonna fill this pretty pussy, baby, gonna make you feel good, okay?”

You hum in response, biting your bottom lip and feeling more than ready to take your husband’s big cock as he continues to rub the tip along your slit. He makes you gasp in pleasure when he suddenly slips in, pushing the tip with no trouble thanks to how wet you are. Your legs tremble as he slips in, burying himself into your heat while groaning and praising you.

“Good girl - so fucking wet for me - so ready - you’re so ready for me,” he says, his words coming in pauses to groan as he feels your walls stretch around his cock, accommodating to his size. “Mierda, princesa - so fucking tight, squeezing my cock so good.” He spanks you again, watching the way your ass recoils from it. “Look at this pretty ass - all mine, yeah, baby?”

“Fuck - yes -ahh!” you start but moan when you feel him push all the way in, his tip reaching that sweet spot of yours. “Miguel-”

“I know princesa, I’m all the way in - buried deep inside you. You feel so good, so good for me,” he says groaning, your walls clenching around him. “Gonna fill you with my cum, princesa - we’re gonna have another baby, yes?”

“Mhmm, another baby, yes,” you coo.

“Good girl, you’re gonna look so pretty pregnant with my baby again,” he says pulling back and leaving only the tip in. “So pretty carrying my baby, princesa, so fucking beautiful.” He’s barely done talking when he slams right in, pushing his heavy cock deep inside you. He relishes on the way your legs tense, the way you moan beneath him as he begins to thrust into you, quickly finding his rhythm.

“Fu-ckkk - Mig- ye-ah - don’t stop,” you beg, whining as he thrusts into you, over and over again, stretching your walls deliciously with his fat cock.

“Don't stop, baby?” Miguel asks as he grabs your ass with both hands to support himself, thrusting into you without faltering.

“Don't - pleas-e -ahh- ahh - please- fuc- me-!” you manage to get out, moaning and whimpering, feeling your husband's fingers dig into your soft flesh just the right way. He keeps hitting that sweet spot, making you a moaning mess beneath him. You curse in pleasure as his thrusts grow heavier and stronger, his heavy balls slapping against your clit, adding stimulation.

And God, Miguel's grunts as he slides in and out of your pussy is making you hazy - he sounds so pretty, so needy for you.

“Fuck,” Miguel groans as he leans on you, wrapping an arm around your waist as he keeps thrusting. He pulls your upper body up so your back is pressed to his chest before he presses kisses and little bites to your shoulder. He then slowly moves his hand down, reaching between your thighs to play with your clit, making you arch against him. He flicks your clit and rubs his thumb over it, making it his mission to make you orgasm before he does.

Thrust after thrust, your sweet moans and whimpers reach Miguel's ears, motivating him. He knows you're close when your walls start squeezing his cock, trying to milk him dry before he's even climaxed.

“Cum for me, preciosa,” he grunts out as his hips snap into your ass over and over again until he has you shaking beneath him and screaming his name.

Panting and whimpering from your climax, Miguel pulls out of you and quickly, but gently, turns you on your back. You whine as soon as he slips out, feeling empty, but Miguel takes care of it. He spreads your legs and immediately settles between them, slipping back into you, needing you.

You both moan as soon as he bottoms out and you waste no time in wrapping your legs around his waist, knowing, even in your hazy state, why he switched positions.

“Fuc- ‘m gonna - gonna - mierda - gonna cum inside you, preciosa,” he says in between groans as he thrusts into you fast and hard, chasing his own climax to fill you with hot seed.

His thrusts become sloppier and sloppier until he eventually goes still, moaning. A second later, you feel his cock twitch a few times before he fills you with his hot, thick cum, painting your walls white. You moan, your legs tightening around him as you get filled deliciously.

Watching your blissful face, Miguel lowers himself on top of you, wrapping his arms around protectively. You both pant, riding out your highs together. You kiss his head gently, whimpering as he thrusts a few more times, letting your hungry pussy milk him until he’s spent and you’re full of him. He stays buried inside you as you both recover from your highs, both of you wanting to let his seed take since you’re trying for a second baby.

A few minutes later, your sweet husband takes care of you during after care. When you feel like you can walk again, you both shower quickly to get properly cleaned up before Gabriel wakes up from his nap.

Once he does, the three of you chill until it’s time to make dinner. You keep Miguel out of the kitchen even though he keeps popping up with your son, offering to help but you stand your ground and keep him out in order to really surprise him.

You succeed, despite his attempts to help, and your sweet husband, not surprisingly, thanks you with lots of kisses and words of love, which you one hundred percent reciprocate.

Before you know it, it’s movie time. You give Miguel’s last surprise of the day by revealing your plans for the evening, including the basket full of Miguel’s favorite snacks and drinks. You also give him a proper gift, something you saw him eyeing a few weeks ago at the store but didn’t buy because he said he had an old one - a set of tools. You’re happy with your purchase when you see the way Miguel’s eyes lit up with excitement while he opens it. You have no doubt he’s already thinking about all the ways he’s going to use it before he’s even done opening it.

Once that’s done, you get Miguel on the couch and pamper him by throwing a blanket over him and Gabriel, who insists on cuddling with his “daddy.” You place the basket with snacks near him and finally start the movie.

The three of you are having a great time, or at least you think so, Gabrielito doesn’t seem too interested in the movie but more on playing with his dad’s hands before he asks to play with his toys on the ground.

Halfway through the movie, you begin to feel sick all of a sudden. You try to push past it, thinking maybe you’ve eaten too many snacks since Miguel has been sharing everything with you. It grows worse by the minute, nausea hitting you suddenly. That’s when you decide it’s better to head to the bathroom, just in case.

“I'll be right back,” you tell Miguel standing up and hurrying, looking off.

“Preciosa, what's wrong? Do you feel sick?” Miguel asks, quickly checking in on Gabrielito and making sure he's safe before following after you.

He reaches the bathroom in seconds where he finds you already vomiting, his concern going through the roof. He immediately reaches you, helping you as much as he can. He rubs your back gently, sticking by you all the way until you wash your mouth and face, trying to catch your breath.

You sigh softly as he helps dry your face, gentle as always.

“I’m so sorry, baby. Do you feel better? Is the nausea gone?” he asks, brows knitted with concern.

You nod, swallowing saliva and wincing a bit. “Yeah, much better now. I just started feeling sick out of nowhere.”

Miguel’s head tilts to the side, your words sinking in.

You stare at each other for a few seconds before you connect the dots. Miguel comes to the same conclusion because he suddenly smiles warmly and happily at you before he places a hand on your tummy.

“Mi reyna [my queen],” he coos.

You smile at him, knowing.

“No wonder,” you say as Miguel pulls you into an embrace. “Sore breasts, nausea, and I’ve been feeling a bit tired the last few days.”

Miguel kisses your forehead. “We’re expecting, mi preciosa [my precious],” he whispers. “We’re having a second baby.”

Hearing his words makes it suddenly feel real and you can’t help but let out a happy noise of content, throwing your arms around him. “I’m pregnant!” you say hugging your husband, who hugs you tight to him.

“You’re pregnant, mi amor [my love]. You're pregnant - I can't believe it. I mean, I do, we've been working on it,” Miguel says with a playful smile, making you laugh. “But it happened so fast. I'm so happy right now!” Miguel picks you up, hugging you. “I want to go outside and yell it to the whole world that we're having a second baby. Dios [God],” Miguel says, kissing your face. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” he repeats in between kisses. “Te amo [I love you].”

“I love you,” you whisper, caressing the curls at the back of his head. “I love you so much.”

“Yo a ti más, mi preciosa [I love you more, my precious],” Miguel whispers pulling back to kiss your lips, lovingly and tenderly. He breaks the kiss a few seconds later and holds you in his arms, the two of you standing in the bathroom. “Gracias, hermosa, gracias [thank you, beautiful, thank you]. You've given me the best gift for Father's Day.”

You chuckle softly, hugging him. “It was an unexpected gift.”

“Perfect way to end the day, hermosa.” Miguel smiles and kisses your forehead again. “God, I'm already thinking of all the things I'm gonna hang up in the new nursery using my new tool set.”

You laugh and pull back. “One step at a time, corazón. It's still early, but if all goes well, in a few months you'll be doing all of that.”

“Happily,” he replies. “You know I'll be there every step. I'll rub your feet and carry you to the bed. I'll do your nails, I'll do anything and everything,” Miguel promises, peppering your face with kisses, caressing your back.

You smile, knowing they're not empty promises.

You spend a few more moments in the bathroom before you return to the living room where you cuddle with your son, happy and excited that in a few months, your family will gain one new member.

A/N: Meant to post this earlier and then life happened, but it's still Father's Day for me so, happy Father's Day to my husband Miguel!! Thank you for reading!!

-Alondra ❤️

[kicxvu]

NOT ALLOWED ! izumi miyamura x reader

summary : bumping into the boyfriend of a really really jealous girlfriend would make your life hell

warnings : bullying, emotional distress, loneliness, confrontation, negative self-perception, crying/tears, conflict, physical anger.

word count : 3.4k

a/n : first fanfic of my bby ! luv him, and sorry it’s quite hate on Hori… if you don’t like it leave kindly pls !!

-> pt1 -> pt2 -> pt3

The final minutes of lunch break ticked away as you made your way back to the classroom. Your stomach felt hollow, not just from lack of food, but from the emotional toll of the day. The bento box in your bag was now empty, its contents disposed of in a moment of quiet desperation.

As you approached the classroom door, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the inevitable discomfort of returning to a room full of people who either ignored or misunderstood you. But nothing could have prepared you for the sight that greeted you as you stepped inside.

There, perched on your desk as if it were a casual meeting spot, sat Hori and two of her friends. Their laughter rang out, echoing in your ears like a taunt. Your eyes widened as you noticed their careless postures, their bodies sprawled across your carefully organized notebooks and textbooks.

For a moment, rage flared within you, hot and bright. Your father's voice echoed in your mind, reminding you of the self-defense moves he'd taught you "just in case." Your hands clenched into fists at your sides, fingernails digging into your palms.

But you caught yourself, forcing a slow, deep breath. 'No,' you thought. 'That's not who I am. That's not who I want to be.'

With deliberate calm, you approached your desk. The girls' chatter died down as they noticed your approach, but they made no move to vacate your space.

"Excuse me," you said, your voice quiet but firm. "I need to get to my desk."

Hori looked at you, a flicker of recognition crossing her face. "Oh, it's you," she said, her tone dismissive. "We're kind of in the middle of something here."

You felt your jaw clench, but you maintained your composure. "Please," you said, "my things are there. I need to prepare for class."

Reluctantly, the girls slid off your desk, moving aside with exaggerated sighs. You approached, your eyes taking in the disarray of your usually neat workspace. Pencils rolled to the floor as you set your bag down, and you noticed with a sinking heart that the corner of your math notebook was bent, the pages crumpled.

With quick, efficient movements, you began to straighten your belongings. Your hands trembled slightly as you smoothed out the creased pages, a lump forming in your throat.

As you worked, you were unaware of the pair of eyes watching you intently from across the room.

Miyamura sat at his desk, his gaze fixed on your every movement. He noted the tension in your shoulders, the careful control in your actions that spoke of suppressed emotion.

'She's upset,' he thought, watching as you meticulously reorganized your desk. 'But she's trying so hard not to show it.'

He observed the way you gently caressed the bent corner of your notebook, as if apologizing to it. The care you took with your possessions struck a chord with him, reminding him of how he treasured the few things that were truly his own.

Your movements became more agitated as you searched through your bag, eventually pulling out the now empty bento box. Miyamura's brow furrowed as he watched you tuck it away with sharp, angry motions.

'She didn't eat,' he realized with a pang of concern. He remembered seeing you sitting alone during lunch, but he'd assumed… what? That you preferred solitude? That you were okay?

As the final bell rang and other students began filing back to their seats, Miyamura found his gaze still drawn to you. He watched as you took a deep, steadying breath, squaring your shoulders as if preparing for battle.

In that moment, Miyamura felt a strong urge to reach out, to say something, anything that might ease the obvious pain you were trying so hard to hide. But before he could act on the impulse, the teacher entered, calling the class to order.

As you sat down, your eyes briefly met Miyamura's. Then you looked away, your face resuming its carefully neutral expression.

Miyamura turned to face the front of the class, but his mind remained on you. He couldn't shake the feeling that something significant had just happened, though he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was.

As the lesson began, the classroom settled into its usual rhythm. But for Miyamura, and unknown to him, for you as well, something had shifted. The air seemed charged with unspoken words and unrealized possibilities.

The final bell of the day rang, signaling the end of classes. You gathered your belongings slowly, watching as your classmates rushed out, eager to start their after-school activities or head home. You took your time, preferring to leave once the hallways had cleared a bit.

As you made your way through the now-quiet corridors, your mind wandered, replaying the events of the day. The confrontation with Hori, the loneliness of lunch, the frustration of finding your desk occupied - it all swirled in your thoughts, leaving you feeling drained and hollow.

You were so lost in your musings that you almost missed the voices coming from a classroom you were passing. The door was slightly ajar, and as you approached, snippets of conversation drifted out.

"Did you see that weird girl today? The one who bumped into Miyamura?"

Your steps faltered as you recognized your own description. Against your better judgment, you paused, listening.

"Oh yeah, what a freak. Who does she think she is?"

"I know, right? Always so quiet and creepy. No wonder she doesn't have any friends."

"Bet she did it on purpose just to touch Miyamura. As if he'd ever look twice at someone like her!"

The words hit you like physical blows, each one cutting deeper than the last. You stood there, frozen, as tears welled up in your eyes and began to silently roll down your cheeks. Your expression remained oddly blank, shock overriding your ability to react outwardly to the pain you felt inside.

You were about to hear more when suddenly, everything went muffled. Warm hands gently covered your ears, blocking out the cruel words. Startled, you gasped and jumped slightly, turning around quickly to face whoever had approached you so silently.

Your eyes widened as you found yourself face to face with Izumi Miyamura. He stood there, hands still raised from where they had been covering your ears, a look of surprise and concern etched across his features. His eyes locked onto yours, and then widened as he noticed the tears streaking your cheeks.

"I… I'm sorry," he said softly, lowering his hands. "I didn't mean to startle you. I just… I didn't want you to hear that."

You stared at him, unable to form words. Your mind raced, trying to process this unexpected turn of events. Why was he here? Why did he care?

Miyamura shifted uncomfortably under your gaze, clearly unsure of what to do next. He glanced at the classroom door, then back at you, his expression a mix of anger and sympathy.

"Those girls… they don't know what they're talking about," he said, his voice low but firm. "You shouldn't listen to people like that."

You blinked, more tears escaping as you did. You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out. Instead, a small, choked sob escaped your lips.

Miyamura's face softened. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, offering it to you hesitantly. "Here," he said. "Um… do you want to go somewhere and talk? Or… or I could walk you home if you'd prefer?"

You stood there, frozen in indecision, the handkerchief clutched in your trembling hand. Miyamura waited patiently, his presence a stark contrast to the loneliness you'd felt all day.

In that moment, standing in the quiet hallway with Miyamura, you felt something shift. It was small, barely perceptible, but it was there - a tiny spark of hope in the darkness that had surrounded you for so long.

You looked at the handkerchief in your hand, then back at Miyamura. His kind gesture had caught you off guard, leaving you feeling both grateful and uncomfortable. You took a shaky breath, trying to regain your composure.

"Thank you," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. You dabbed at your eyes with the handkerchief, the soft fabric absorbing your tears. "But… where's Hori? Shouldn't you be with her?"

Miyamura's expression shifted, a mix of surprise and something else - was it sadness? - crossing his features. "Hori had a student council meeting," he explained. "I was just heading home when I…" He trailed off, gesturing vaguely towards the classroom where the girls were still talking.

You nodded, understanding. A moment of silence stretched between you, filled with unspoken words and uncertainties.

Finally, you mustered up the courage to speak again. "That's very kind of you, Miyamura-kun, but I… I should go home." You held out the handkerchief, intending to return it.

Miyamura's brow furrowed. "Are you sure? I really don't mind walking with you. After what those girls said…"

You shook your head, cutting him off gently. "No, it's okay. Really. I wouldn't want you to be seen with someone like me. And if Hori saw us…" You let the implication hang in the air, remembering the morning's confrontation all too vividly.

Miyamura fell silent, his eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made you want to look away. But there was something in his gaze that held you there - a deep understanding that you couldn't quite fathom.

In his mind, Miyamura was transported back to his own past. Your words echoed his own thoughts from not so long ago: "Don't be seen with someone like me." "You shouldn't hang out with me." He remembered the fear of dragging others down, of being a burden. The pain of isolation and the belief that he wasn't worthy of friendship or kindness.

As he looked at you, Miyamura saw a reflection of his former self - the quiet, withdrawn person he used to be, always trying to fade into the background. He felt a strong urge to reach out, to tell you that you were wrong, that you were worth so much more than you believed. But the words stuck in his throat, held back by the memory of how hard it had been for him to accept such truths about himself.

Instead, he took a deep breath, his gaze softening. "I understand," he said quietly, the weight of unspoken experiences heavy in his voice. "But… are you sure you don't want company on your way home? Just… just as far as you're comfortable with?"

He didn't reach out, didn't push, but something in his stance conveyed an openness, an offer of companionship without pressure or judgment.

You stood there, caught off guard by the unexpected kindness in Miyamura's eyes. Part of you wanted to retreat, to stick to the familiar safety of solitude. But another part, a part that had been quiet for so long, whispered that maybe this was a chance worth taking.

As you looked at Miyamura, you found yourself at a crossroads. Whatever choice you made next would change things, for better or worse. The question was, were you brave enough to find out which?

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. "Okay," you said softly, your voice barely audible. "Maybe just… just to the school gate?"

A small smile touched Miyamura's lips, a mix of relief and something warmer. "Sure," he nodded. "To the school gate."

As you both were about to take a step, a loud voice suddenly echoed through the corridor.

"Miyamura!"

You froze, recognizing Hori's voice immediately. Your heart rate spiked, panic setting in as you heard quick footsteps approaching from behind.

Miyamura tensed beside you, his eyes widening slightly as he glanced over his shoulder. He turned back to you, conflict clear in his expression.

"I…" he started, but you were already shaking your head.

"It's okay," you whispered, taking a small step back. "You should go."

Miyamura opened his mouth as if to protest, but Hori's voice called out again, closer this time.

"Miyamura, there you are! Who were you talking to?"

You could hear the curiosity and slight edge in her tone. Without waiting for Miyamura's response, you turned and began to walk away, your steps measured and deliberate despite the urge to run.

"Oh, no one," you heard Miyamura say behind you, his voice casual but with an undercurrent of something you couldn't quite identify. "Just thought I saw someone I knew, but I was mistaken."

You felt a pang in your chest at his words. 'No one.' That's what you were, weren't you? No one of consequence, no one worth mentioning. Even though you knew Miyamura was trying to protect you, the words still stung.

As you rounded the corner, you heard Hori's skeptical reply fading behind you. "Really? I could've sworn I saw you talking to someone."

You didn't stay to hear Miyamura's response. Instead, you continued walking, your pace quickening slightly as you made your way down the stairs and out of the school building.

The cool afternoon air hit your face as you stepped outside, a stark contrast to the warmth that had briefly blossomed inside you during your conversation with Miyamura. You clutched your bag tighter, realizing you still held his handkerchief in your hand.

As you approached the school gate, you paused, looking down at the small piece of fabric. It was a tangible reminder of the brief moment of kindness in an otherwise difficult day. Part of you wanted to run back and return it, to see if that spark of connection could be rekindled. But the memory of Hori's voice, the fear of another confrontation, held you back.

With a deep sigh, you tucked the handkerchief into your pocket and pushed yourself through the gate, starting your solitary walk home. The weight of the day's events pressed down on you, but somewhere, buried deep beneath the hurt and loneliness, was a tiny spark. A spark of something that felt dangerously like hope.

As you walked away from the school, you couldn't help but wonder what might have been if Hori hadn't appeared. Would you and Miyamura have talked more? Would you have found a friend in him? Or was it all just a fleeting moment of kindness, never meant to last?

These thoughts swirled in your mind as you made your way home, the school and Miyamura fading into the distance behind you.

--

The walk to Hori's house was filled with her cheerful chatter, but Miyamura found his mind wandering. He nodded and hummed in response at appropriate intervals, but his thoughts kept drifting back to the girl he'd encountered in the hallway - her tear-stained face, her quiet resignation, the way she'd walked away without looking back.

As they entered the Hori household, the familiar routine began. They called out their arrival, slipped off their shoes, and made their way to Hori's room. The house was quiet; Hori's younger brother was still at his after-school activities, and her parents were at work.

"Make yourself comfortable," Hori said, gesturing to her bed as she set her bag down. "I'll go grab us some snacks."

Miyamura nodded, settling onto the edge of the bed. He looked around the room, taking in the familiar posters, the neatly arranged desk, the photos of Hori with her friends. Everything was as it always was, and yet…

Hori returned with a plate of cookies and two glasses of iced tea. "Here we go," she said brightly, setting them down on the small table. "So, what should we do? Study? Watch a movie?"

Miyamura shrugged, forcing a small smile. "Whatever you'd like," he replied.

Hori tilted her head, studying him. "Is everything okay? You've been quiet since we left school."

For a moment, Miyamura considered telling her about the girl, about the cruel words he'd overheard, about the way it had stirred up memories of his own past. But something held him back. Instead, he shook his head. "Just tired, I guess. It's been a long day."

Hori nodded sympathetically. "I know what you mean. That student council meeting dragged on forever." She launched into a detailed account of the meeting, peppered with complaints about certain members and jokes about others.

As she spoke, Miyamura found himself watching her, really looking at her. He took in her animated expressions, the way her hands moved as she talked, the passion in her voice as she described her ideas for upcoming school events. She was beautiful, vibrant, full of life. Everything he'd always admired about her.

And yet, for the first time, he felt a disconnect. A small voice in the back of his mind whispered, 'Would she understand? If I told her about the girl, about my past, would she really get it?'

The thought startled him. Of course, Hori knew about his past, about the bullying and the loneliness. But did she truly understand? The memory of her angry outburst that morning, the way she'd pushed the girl, flashed through his mind.

"Miyamura? Are you listening?" Hori's voice cut through his thoughts.

He blinked, realizing he'd completely lost track of what she was saying. "Sorry," he mumbled. "What were you saying?"

Hori sighed, a hint of frustration in her voice. "I was asking if you wanted to help with the cultural festival planning. The committee could use some extra hands."

"Oh," Miyamura said, trying to refocus. "Sure, I guess. If you think I'd be helpful."

Hori beamed at him, leaning in to plant a quick kiss on his cheek. "Great! You're the best, Miyamura."

As she pulled away, Miyamura felt a twinge in his chest. It wasn't the usual flutter of happiness he associated with Hori's affection. Instead, it felt almost… hollow.

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur of homework, idle chat, and shared snacks. But through it all, Miyamura couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted. His responses felt mechanical, his smiles a bit forced. And all the while, his mind kept drifting back to the quiet girl in the hallway, wondering if she'd made it home okay, if she was as alone as she seemed.

As the sun began to set, Miyamura gathered his things to leave. Hori walked him to the door, wrapping him in a tight hug before he left.

"See you tomorrow," she said, smiling up at him.

"Yeah," he replied, managing a small smile in return. "See you tomorrow."

As he walked home in the fading light, Miyamura found himself grappling with unfamiliar emotions. The warmth and comfort he usually felt after spending time with Hori was muted, overshadowed by a growing sense of unease. For the first time since they'd started dating, he wondered if there was a part of himself - a part of his past - that Hori could never truly understand.

And with that thought came another, more troubling one: was the love he thought he felt for Hori as deep and unconditional as he'd believed? Or was it possible that, like the fading sunlight, it too was beginning to dim?

now you suck

Ⓡ kicxvu all rights reserved. please to not plagiarize, repost, or translate !

taglist :

@ilovecandys2010 @zhvakinnn

[potatoplace]

betty

Azriel x Archeron!Reader

the 1 (part 1) | So Long, London (part 3)

mini-series masterlist | ACOTAR x reader masterlist

Story Summary: In the aftermath of your fall, your sisters stay by your side, comforting you as best they can. The Shadowsinger is lurking, hoping for a chance to apologize. Will you tell him to go fuck himself or take him as your mate once more?

Warnings: suicide mention, self harm, difficult birth, chronic pain (idk if I should tag that?), FUCK AZRIEL

Words: ~3.5k

Author's Note: So. This was supposed to be the HAPPY ending. And it kind of is. So. Yeah. I just couldn't think of a way to make it actually happy except in the way that I did. Because tbh Azriel fucked up TOO. HARD. There's honestly no way to fully come back from what he did... grrrrr. I hope you guys like it anyways, sorry that I can't deliver on some actual fluff to heal your hearts 💔 also the first bit before Feyre finds out about Reader is the same as in 'Gone'. And the final alternate ending will be out tomorrow!

18+ only pls

💙🤍💙🤍💙

Azriel quickly made his way back to Elain, doing his best to put the interaction he had just had with you behind him.

His mate.

Elain’s sister… That’s the only way he had ever thought of you.

As a human you had been… Less than average. Hard to look at.

At least in comparison to Elain.

Elain was a breath of fresh air, so lovely and innocent and so entirely unlike him.

And turned fae, she was even more breathtaking.

He had waited for her to realize how truly damaged and scarred he was, and not just on the outside. How entirely unworthy of her he was.

But she hadn’t. She had seen him, loved him, even with how broken he was on the inside.

And he had meant his words to Nesta, when he had said no one would ever compare to Elain, even his mate.

And he was right. You didn’t compare to her.

But as he reached her side and wrapped his arm around his lovely Elain, he couldn’t help but… wonder.

Had he just made a mistake in rejecting the bond so easily?

His free hand came to rub at his chest, which felt like it was being scraped with a knife, a dull, throbbing pain.

“Are you alright?” Elain’s sweet voice asked, and he tilted his head to look down at her.

“Of course, sweetheart. Join me for a dance?” He asked softly, leading her by the hand to the dance floor after she nodded, a beautiful smile gracing her lips.

The ring in his pocket, so dainty and light, felt as though it weighed a thousand pounds.

He had planned to propose to Elain tonight, present her with the beautiful ring that he had picked out just for her. But now, after your confession and the pain from a severed bond in his chest, it just didn’t feel like the time.

Only a minute into their dance, Feyre screamed in agony, all heads whipping to look at their High Lady.

“Feyre? What’s wrong?” Rhys asked, already holding Feyre in his arms.

She broke away from him a moment later, sprinting further into the House without any warning.

Rhys followed immediately after, running after his mate, and the rest of the inner circle followed quickly.

They found Feyre peering over a balcony, sobbing at whatever she saw before summoning her wings. In the next moment, Feyre was jumping over the edge, diving down towards the rocks below.

Just a few seconds later, she returned, a body clutched tightly to her chest-

You. His mate.

Feyre set you gently on the ground, her hands already glowing with healing powers. “Someone go get Madja. Now.”

Cassian took to the air as soon as she gave her command, flying in the direction of the healer’s home as the rest of them stood, watching Feyre work to heal your broken, battered body with mouths wide in disbelief.

Your other two sisters fell to the ground around you, careful not to touch you lest they cause any more damage.

“What… What happened?” Elain asked tearily. His soft, sweet Elain, tears already streaming down her face, sorrow matched by Nesta.

But Feyre… Feyre was sobbing as she worked to heal you, mending the vital organs that had been damaged in the fall.

Because you had fallen. Somehow, you had fallen over the edge of the balcony that would reach above your waist.

You were so small, so fragile.

The torn bond in his chest felt like a gaping wound, Truthteller twisting inside the muscle over and over and over as he looked at your dying body, the reality of the situation hitting him all at once.

You are his mate! He had rejected his mate!

Cassian returned with Madja in record time, who immediately set to healing the bones that were shattered into a thousand pieces.

“Everyone besides the sisters should leave now, I need to focus,” Madja said sharply, leveling a glare at Azriel himself.

He had been softly sobbing, tears cascading down his face without him even realizing.

Rhys, Cassian, Mor, and Amren all turned their eyes to Azriel, confused at the level of grief he was displaying, nearly level with your sisters.

Quickly, Azriel turned and left the balcony, making his way to another abandoned one, taking to the skies a moment later. He hoped the cold air would clear his thoughts, rid him of this feeling of regret he was holding now, after seeing you nearly dead.

But still, his heart ached with the need to see you, the need for the bond to be whole and healed again, to give it a chance.

Because now, he could see that he had made a mistake. Now that you had nearly left him in a way he hadn’t anticipated, hadn’t thought would ever happen.

Elain… Elain would be sad, of course. And he would miss her truly… It was a shame you were sisters, or he may have been able to figure out a world in which he could have the both of you to love him.

Most likely, Elain wouldn’t want a relationship with her sister’s mate, either. It would be… Cruel of them to continue on, with you still around them.

He didn’t know how he hadn’t realized that the moment you had confessed.

But there was no changing that. There was only the path forward, and that was for him to find some way to repair the bond between you, and do whatever he needed to win his mate to his side

💙🤍💙🤍💙

The first time you woke, it was to blinding pain in every inch, every cell of your body.

Without opening your eyes, your body wrenched itself to the side to wretch up whatever remained in your stomach, the movement sending more stabs of pain through you.

You weren’t awake for more than a minute before you succumbed to the pain, falling into blissful nothingness.

The second time you woke, you could hear muffled words, sounding like they were passing through several layers of cotton stuffed into your ears.

The voices sounded like your sisters, arguing in hushed voices.

Probably about what a failure you were, not even able to take your own life, even by jumping from-

A balcony.

Azriel.

Your mate.

The pain of your body was nothing to the renewed agony of the severed bond, ripped so suddenly after finally being recognized by your mate.

A scream left your lips without a thought, and your hands attempted to raise up to your chest, to attempt to soothe the pain ravaging you so thoroughly.

But they were stopped, held down by gentle hands, and two more cupped at your face, the kindness in them reminding you of only one person-

Twin.

Your eyes cracked open the slightest bit, the connection between you and Feyre giving you just enough to meet her pretty blue eyes with your dull brown ones.

“Y/N, you’re awake,” Feyre said softly, the words echoed into your mind so that you could actually hear her. “Try to stay still, sissy. We healed you as much as we could but you could still reinsure your muscles. Just stay still, I’ll get you more pain potions.”

Tears leaked out of your eyes. “Bond. Hurts,” you managed to whisper to her mentally, and her eyes widened.

One of her hands left your face, the other one curling around to lift your head and tilt a potion into your mouth, the liquid bitter but instantly easing the physical aches within you, tiredness sweeping over your senses and pulling you under.

But you could still feel the pain in your heart.

The third time you woke, the pain in your body was only a dull ache, but your hands shot up to rub at the ache in your chest.

No hands stopped you this time, but you heard three soft gasps as you moved, and after a moment you let your eyes flutter open, squeezing shut after seeing how bright it was.

“Oh, shoot,” Elain’s soft voice said, and you hear her soft footsteps and the swish of fabric before she returned. “It’s darker in here now, you should be more comfortable.”

You let your eyes open again, pleased to see there was only the dim glow of the fireplace and a few candles dotted about the room.

After a moment, you recognized that you were in the room that had been set aside for you in the River House, laying on the plush bed with your sisters huddled around it on chairs.

“What…” You started, but found yourself coughing, your dry, sore throat protesting the action. Feyre quickly offered you a glass of water, helping to raise your head and tilting the glass to spill the cool liquid down your throat.

Once you had had your fill, she set the glass back down on your bedside table, then helped you sit up against the headboard. She fussed with the pillows, making sure that you were only laying against the plush padding, then tugged the blanket up to cover your chest and shoulders.

Feyre was sniffling softly as she looked at you, her eyes gleaming with unshod tears, but her face was puffy and red so you knew she had been crying recently.

“What happened?” You asked quietly.

How did I survive?

“I- I felt you go unconscious, through our mental link. And I- I found you on-” Feyre’s voice was cut off by a sob.

Nesta sighed, to your left. But it wasn’t an angry sigh, like you were used to. Your head turned to look at her, seeing tears on her own face as well.

You couldn’t remember the last time you had seen her cry.

“She could you at the rocks below the House of Wind,” Nesta explained, her hands sneaking under the blanket and taking your left one in them, her thumbs rubbing over the back of it in a comforting manner. “You were… You were nearly gone, when we found you.”

“She and Madja saved you, but they said you might have some… Residual pain, because of the amount of damage,” Elain said softly, her own hands resting on top of the blanket over your right hand.

You blinked at the three of them, lost for words.

The pain in your chest flared again, reminding you of exactly why you were in this situation.

“I… I’m sorry for worrying you…” You whispered, guilt overtaking you as your right hand came to rub at your heart, attempting to soothe its pain, as futile as it was.

“Why are you sorry?” Nesta asked sharply, and you flinched. “I- I just meant that you have nothing to be sorry about. It’s Azriel who should be apologizing, and to you.”

Tears flooded your eyes at the mere mention of his name, and Feyre’s fingers wiped them away with a soft cloth with so much care that you began to sob.

“Oh, sissy, I’m sorry,” Feyre said, and climbed into the bed next to you, her body curling into yours like it did for so many years in that cold, run down cottage. “I’m so, so sorry,” she cooed as she rocked your body gently, joined to her back by Elain and Nesta to your left. “For what it’s worth, he realized what an… Error… He made,” Feyre said softly, but it only made you cry more.

That meant that he had hurt Elain, and that was the last thing that you wanted.

“It’s okay, Y/N, really. I don’t…” Elain paused, trying to find the right words. “I don’t want to be with my sister’s mate, especially not… Not with the circumstances. He won’t tell us exactly what happened, just that… He rejected the bond quickly, and is now searching for a way to heal it.”

Your sobs quieted at that information, your mind confused.

“What?”

“Azriel is… Attempting to make amends with you,” Nesta said, clearly angry with just the suggestion. “Though what he thinks he can do to fix it, I don’t know.”

Elain sighed. “Really, I’m sorry Y/N. If I had known he was your mate… I never would have accepted his advances.”

“It’s okay, ‘Lain. I… I should have told him sooner, given him… An actual choice, not sprung it on him last night.”

“Starfall was a week ago, Y/N. He’s been stalking your room since we brought you here, his shadows are practically coating the door at all times. Feyre hasn’t let them in, though,” Nesta explained.

Your brow furrowed. A week? You had been out for a week?

“You needed the time to heal as much as you could. You woke up a couple of times, but it never lasted for long, your were in too much pain,” Feyre said softly, one of her hands running though your hair.

“Can… Is he… Is he waiting now?” You asked quietly, though you weren’t sure which answer you were hoping for.

Your sisters exchanged weary glances, but Elain was the one who nodded in confirmation.

“Would I be able to speak with him?”

Nesta sighed and squeezed your hand tightly. “Are you sure? I could go roast him alive instead? Save you the trouble of taking him out?”

Despite the pain still throbbing in your heart, your lips curled up at her suggestion. “No, I’ll be… Fine, Nes. I just… Need to do this.”

“Okay, we’ll tell him that he can come in. Would you like any of us to stay?” Elain asked, her eyes soft and worried.

You shook you head. “No, I think it would be better for us to talk alone.”

“If you need us, or to have him leave, just reach out for me, okay sissy?” Feyre suggested, giving you one last squeeze before she slipped from the bed.

“I will, FeyFey,” you said, giving her a soft smile in an attempt to reassure her that you were fine.

Nesta opened the door to your bedroom, shadows instantly flooding inside as she did. You could spot Azriel’s massive frame in the doorway, his wings drooped to the ground.

You heard Nesta hiss something at him, too quietly for you to hear, but the way his wings fell further and his accepting nod came across, you were certain that she had threatened to cut off important body parts if you ended up even more hurt.

Azriel entered the bedroom, his eyes cast to the ground as he stood in the center of the room. Elain left next, avoiding looking at Azriel as she did. Feyre was the last to go, leveling Azriel with a deathly cold stare. You knew that she was the most shaken up by the experience- you and your twin had always had a strong connection, almost like you could read each other’s minds, even before Feyre obtained the magic to actually do so.

She turned in the doorway, her eyes locking with yours. You smiled slightly and nodded at her.

You would be fine.

It’s not like there’s any way Azriel can hurt you more, what with the bond already destroyed in your chest.

The door snicked shut behind her, though you could still hear their heartbeats lingering in the hallway outside, ready to step in if they heard anything concerning.

“So…” You started, once the two of you had been in silence for a few minutes.

“So… I… I wanted to apologize, Y/N. I wish I could take back my cruel words, and undo the rejection of the bond. I don’t know what I was thinking, moving so quickly,” Azriel said, his voice the saddest that you had ever heard it.

Still, you didn’t say anything.

“I am so, so sorry Y/N. I want to take away your pain, I want to do anything that I can to help you. You are my mate and I have done so much wrong by you. Please, Y/N. Please give me another chance,” he begged.

And it broke you.

Your arms came out from under the blanket without you meaning to, reaching for him-

Your mate.

Your mate who was begging for your forgiveness.

Begging for you.

The broken bond in your chest ached even as his hands met yours, grasping them tightly as he kneeled on the bed before you, tears in his eyes.

“Please, let me try everything I can to repair the bond. Let me earn your trust and love, Y/N.”

You sighed and bit your lip, considering his words, the conviction with which he said them.

“Is… Is there a way to fix the bond?” You asked tentatively, squeezing his hands gently.

“There are ways, yes. They require multiple detailed rituals under the separate phases of the moon, with a priestess’s help. I… I’ve already had a priestess practice the rituals, in case you were to say yes. Of course, we’ll only start when you’re ready.”

You nodded slowly.

You could have your mate.

If you wanted.

“When can we start?”

💙🤍💙🤍💙

A month later, you and Azriel had completed the four rituals required to repair the mating bond.

The priestess had warned you that the bond would likely feel slightly hollow, not quite as strong as they normally do once accepted.

You swore to yourself that you didn’t care as you baked a blackberry cheesecake for your mating ceremony with Azriel- it was the first dessert the two of you had shared in your very first date, while you were still on bed rest after your…

Accident.

You swore to yourself that you didn’t care as you lifted a bite of the cheesecake to Azriel’s mouth as your family watched on, clapping and congratulating the two of you quickly before they winnowed out of the Town House, which Rhys and Feyre had gifted to the two of you.

You swore to yourself that you didn’t care once the mating frenzy had subsided, laying in bed at night, staring at the ceiling, hand clutching at your heart.

Phantoms pains still rang through you every day, rattling your bones. The bond was there, yes, but it had been killed and brought back to life, reanimated in your chest and torturing you in life.

You swore to yourself that you didn’t care as you slid Truthteller across your thigh in the middle of the night while Azriel slept in the next room, needing to feel a pain that was real to distract you from how much you didn’t care that the bond wasn’t whole.

You told yourself that you didn’t care that Azriel wanted you for the bond, and likely the bond alone.

The moments that made you not care were the ones where Azriel’s attentions made the bond flare to life in you, imitating the wholeness that you could have once had.

His soft kisses on your lips and sweet nothings whispered in your ears, gentle scarred hands caressing your own scars, trying to erase every pain that he had caused you.

You swore that you didn’t care as you saw his eyes linger on Elain at family dinners, convinced yourself that you didn’t see longing and lust in his hazel eyes as he took in your elder sister, finally attempting to fulfill her own bond with Lucien.

You did the same as his eyes lingered on every pretty female you passed on your walks through Velaris, wishing that he would look at you with the same heated looks he did for them.

Even as you grew with child, you promised to yourself that you didn’t care that the bond felt like it was dying in your chest, draining you of your energy.

All you had ever wanted was to have a husband and a baby, someone who would love you forever, and a sweet child to raise, to shield from the cruelty of the world.

And of course, you told yourself that you didn’t care when he came home smelling of another female, his clothes slightly out of place and hair tousled while you were on bed rest, the lingering pain from your attempt making you unable to walk on your own.

Azriel was with you during labor, and the bond between the two of you shined the brightest then, with your hand squeezing his, nearly to the point of breaking bones, as you pushed and pushed and pushed, finally rewarded with your beautiful baby girl-

The absolute copy of her father, stunning hazel eyes, thick and curly dark hair, and tiny, fluttering wings on her back.

The labor took so much out of you, the wings having torn your body open, but finally, after hours of healing from Feyre and Madja, you were given the absolute joy of holding your firstborn.

You beamed down at her, enraptured by how sweet and precious and perfect she was, her little fingers curling around one of yours.

So small. So delicate.

You knew that you would protect her with your life, with everything you had. You would never let anyone hurt her, never let anyone compare her to those around her. She would be safe, and loved, and love herself like you had never had the chance to.

So you told yourself that you didn’t care, because she was worth it.

She was worth everything.

General Taglist: @daughterofthemoons-stuff @lilah-asteria

the 1 Taglist: @blackgirlmagicforever @historygeekqueen @angelbunny222

[ikigaisvt]

laundry room

in which your husband is really good at cleaning - and he looks hot doing so.

pairing: seungcheol x she/her!reader, husband!seungcheol x wife!reader, somewhat dom!seungcheol x somewhat sub!reader & somewhat sub!seungcheol x somewhat dom!reader words: 2.6k content: smut, fluff (minors dni) warnings: reader uses she/her, seungcheol picks up reader twice (sorry), they're so in love with each other, sex standing up, vry horny reader tbh, seungcheol is a teasing shit, swearing, fingering, begging, multiple orgasms (for reader), unprotected sex, cum eating(?), petnames (for reader : sweetheart, darling, baby, wife, pretty wife / for seungcheol : baby) note: i had this idea after seeing a tiktok of a married couple cleaning up every night,,, MINORS DNI or you'll be blocked. anyway seungcheol is so husband material and i can see him doing the most for his partner irl (i love him sm) i hope everyone likes it, pls don't forget to reblog!

You always knew you were lucky to have such an amazing husband; in fact, all your friends asked you at least once where you found him.

Seungcheol is truly a dream come true: he is a hardworking man, he always finds energy to cook for you, clean around the house every night, but most importantly, he never fails to make time to love you but also to satisfy you. Ever since you two started going to bed – to do more than sleeping – he always found a moment to fulfill your needs, with no shaming.

It's been over three hours since your husband came home, looking as good as ever and a little over an hour since you two started cleaning up around the house after dinner; your daily cleaning time started in the kitchen with Seungcheol doing the dishes while you were wiping down the counter tops. You stole glances at your husband the whole time, noticing the way his arms bulged at every one of his movements, his white shirt hugging his body tightly, his back tattoo showing through the thin material making you drool at the view. He was truly a sight to behold with his blonde hair gently grazing at his upper cheeks as a natural smile hangs on his lips. A few times, he took you by surprise as he turned around to meet your eyes, a chuckle leaving his lips almost every time, knowing you were turning into a puddle – down to your panties – at the way he looked.

Your cleaning made its way through the living room as you were in charge of fluffing the sofa cushions and dusting the coffee table while your husband was vacuuming. The stolen glances followed you all throughout the housework, as if you were still a shy student having a crush on your senior, as if you were not looking at your husband who fucks you every night. As you keep working on the cushions, fluffing them over and over again, being too flustered at the sight of your husband, you wish for time to go by faster so you can hop in the shower and burn your skin with cold water.

But since your husband is none other than the teasing shit Choi Seungcheol is, he keeps making exaggerated noises, groaning every time he has to bend down or push out a chair. He even goes as far as to wipe the sweat on his forehead with his shirt, his torso all in the open for you to feast your eyes upon. You almost snap a few times because his antics were distracting you from your task in hands but you know that sooner than later, it will be time to go to bed and you will somehow get what you want – like you always do. Because as much as Seungcheol is a teasing shit, he is first and foremost a simp for you.

“Are we ready to take care of the laundry, sweetheart?” your husband asks you, wrapping his arms around your waist as you organize a console in your living room, “Because it is hell in there.” He pouts, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Yeah, all done here!” you say cheerfully, caressing his hands before making your way to the laundry room, “Come on, the quicker we finish this up, the quicker we can go to bed!” you tell him as you push the door open.

“Oh, you want me in bed so bad.” He teases you making your ears burn.

As soon as you enter the room, you start to unload the dryer to fold everything up as you take special care to ignore Seungcheol’s words – and the burning sensation in the pit of your stomach as your husband starts to unload the washing machine. You start to fold up clean clothes and towels, making distinct piles of everything so it is easier to put away, trying your best to ignore your husband who’s quietly working on loading the dryer behind you – his groans and huffs still present in his breath. But as nothing comes without hardships, you fail miserably at ignoring his presence – his scent almost overwhelming you, his presence enveloping you, almost feeling his hands on you. You slowly get lost in the sensation he could give you if only he was touching you right now-

“Baby?” you hear his voice whisper in your neck, giving you goosebumps all the way down to your back, desire building in your stomach, “You’re good?”

“Hm, yeah,” you say as he starts to kiss down the side of your neck, his hands rubbing at your hips, “Just had a moment.”

“Wanna talk about it?” he asks in his deep voice, his hair tickling your collarbones and his lips never once leaving your neck, making your panties wetter by the second.

“I- fuck, I’m okay,” you say, a moan threatening to spill out of your mouth.

“Yeah? You don’t sound okay, darling,” he admits, his hand slowly making its way towards your pink cherry shorts while his other one wraps around your waist pining you gently to his body, “Is that okay?” he asks in your ear, playing with the band of your short.

“Hm, yeah,” you mumble out, one of your hands finding anchor on his arm around your waist, the other one resting on the counter top in front of you, “please,” you beg lowly, already needing him to fuck you.

“My pretty wife, begging so good for me, hm?” he chuckles, his digits crossing your shorts and panties, lightly touching your clit, wetness pouring out of you, “You’re already dripping, sweetheart.” he groans, drawing circles over your clit, building up your orgasm – as if you are not so close already.

“Only for you,” you moan, the knot in your tummy getting tighter and tighter, almost snapping, “Please- need you-” you say, reaching out behind you for his belt but before you can do as much as graze him, he takes your hand and pin it to the counter, making you bend down slightly.

“Let’s not get too greedy, now, hm? You’ve been so good for me, it’d be a shame to ruin everything now, wouldn’t it?” he warns, two of his fingers sinking in your pussy, your walls stretching to welcome him, more cum dripping out of you.

“S-sorry, fuck, feels so good,” you say, almost drooling at the way his fingers feel, plunging in and out in a timed rhythm, his thumb never once stopping its movements on your clit, bringing you so close to the edge, “I- just wanted to- know,” you try to explain, your words coming out all slurred from pleasure.

“Wanted to know what? If I’m hard for you?” he snickers, pushing his pelvis to your body, his hard-on pressing over your lower back, “Feel me.” he whispers, angling his fingers differently, grazing at your sweet spot, your moans coming out in rhythm with the pounding he settled for, “Of course I’m hard for you, darling. You should see yourself right now,” he chokes out, lightly humping himself against you, moans building in his throat, “And knowing you got horny over me cleaning around the house? Here I was, trying to be a good husband while my horny little wife was eye fucking me the entire time.” He sneers before whispering “Of course I saw you.” in answer to your whines.

“Cheol, cheol- fuck, baby,” you mumble, your orgasm burning at your stomach and all the way down to your pussy, your legs almost giving out below you, “I’m so close, can I please cum, please, let me cum, please, please, please,” you babble, feeling like your body is on fire, your eyes stinging with tears.

“Cum for me baby, go ahead,” he says, his fingers never once stopping as he wraps his arms around your waist, supporting you completely, “You can let go, darling. Let it wash over you, I got you,” he whispers, kissing your hair, before you slump in his arms, your orgasm making your legs give out and your eyes roll out. Your pussy spams around his fingers as they never once stop, working through your orgasm making you drip with cum, ruining your shorts and dripping down your thighs.

“Fuck- baby, you came so much,” your husband says as he pulls out his hand from your shorts, making you wince out. It takes you all the strength in the world to open your eyes and look back at Seungcheol, seeing him suck on his two fingers, moaning at the way you taste.

“Cheol- this is so dirty, even for you,” you moan, fully turning around and hiding your head in his neck.

“I don’t know what you mean, sweetheart,” he chuckles as he takes a hold of your face, leaning in slowly to kiss you – it always feels like he says I love you when his lips are against yours, “Are you okay? That was a lot,” he adds, resting his forehead against yours.

“I’m fine- I just feel clammy,” you pout, your fingers playing with the hem of his shirt and it takes everything in Seungcheol to not gasp when your fingers graze against his pants. Little does he knows you are doing it on purpose.

“Want to jump in the shower?” he asks, already parting from you before you grasp at his shirt mumbling something so softly he doesn’t even hear your words, “What was that, darling? Speak up for me, please?”

“No, I- want to keep going,” you whisper, not giving him any time to answer that you’re already kissing him, smoothly trying to get the upper hand before he grabs your jaw, setting out a rhythm that pleases him.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, beloved,” he says after breaking the kiss, letting go of your jaw, “You want me?” he whispers, his arms resting on the countertop behind you, caging you against him.

“Yes- please,” you say, looking up with doe eyes, “Need you- Need your cock,” you whimper, already grabbing at his shirt, pulling it up so he can get the clue.

“Fuck- Okay sweetheart, I’ll fuck you,” he says, grabbing at your waist, you lower back bumping against the counter, “Nice and slow, hm? Is that what you want?”

“Yeah- want you,” you whisper, kissing his neck, all the way up to his jaw, making him groan out. He gently taps at your upper thigh, wanting you up on the counter all for himself. Just like a meal.

He gently puts you down, your thighs immediately wrapping around his hips, feeling his cock pushing against your clothed pussy while you still try to get him to lose the shirt, “Get the shirt off,” you mumble, your words working just like you wanted – and even a little too well – as he takes a step back to take off his shirt and his pants – his briefs falling to the ground too, “Fuck- baby- didn’t know you were going to do a strip tease for me,” you chuckle, still not you used to the sight of your husband even after being with him for years.

“You’re so silly,” he says, coming back between your legs to kiss you, as you touch his shoulders, feeling his muscles move at the way he plays with your shirt, “Your turn,” he mumbles against your lips, pulling your shirt over your head and throwing it behind him, “Now, this needs to go,” he says as he snaps the waistband of your short against your skin making it redden before pulling it off along with your panties, “We’re so lucky we’re in the laundry room because we are about to get so dirty,” he jokes out, the mood feeling lighter than before, love taking its deserved place between you two.

“Now who’s the silly one, hm?” you chuckle, looking at him as if he holds the world in his hands – and probably some more, your words making him giggle before he works himself up again, his hand wrapping around his cock, pre-cum oozing at the tip, “You look so hot,” you whisper, your eyes transfixed on his movement and the way his cock twitches with pleasure.

“Are you ready for me, darling?” he asks, a blush on his face at the compliment, as he teases your hole with his cock, driving you more and more insane.

“Yeah- just fuck me,” you whine, your hips bucking towards him, “Like you know how to do. Only you know how to handle me.” you tell him, teasing him before he plunges into you, your walls adjusting around him, you two moaning at the pleasure to feel each other. To drown in each other.

“Baby- you feel so good- so, so good for me,” he whimpers, his hips slightly bucking towards you.

“You can move, baby,” you tell him, tapping his upper arm lightly before finding anchor on his shoulders, your hands playing with his hair at his nape. He sets a slow rhythm, trying to reach as deep as he can, his hips flush against yours, making you moan out every time he pushes back against you. You drop your head back, closing your eyes as he kisses down your chest, up to your neck and jaw. You feel him bite, suck everywhere he can reach while you can only pull at his hair, pressure building in your lower belly, your moans getting louder and louder.

“Feels good, baby? Am I handling you like you wanted me to?” he chuckles against your throat, his truths meeting your pussy harder, quicker as he chases after his own orgasm.

“Fuck- yeah, yeah, you’re the only who knows how to fuck me,” you choke out, pleasure building all the way up in your throat, feeling yourself teetering on the brink of your orgasm, “I’m so close, please, please, let me cum baby, please, Cheol,” you cry out, tears threatening to spill.

“Shit- hold it, p-please, wanna come with my wife, please,” he begs, his hips working harder to finally let go.

“Baby, fuck- Come with me, come with me,” you choke out, pulling on his hair harder, your thighs wrapping around his frame, “Fill me up, make me yours- Cum for your wife,” you moan, breaking the last thread of sanity you both were holding on, feeling Seungcheol’s cock twitch as you clutch around him, both of your orgasms washing over you, making you shudder at the strength of it all.

You slowly come back to yourself, feeling Seungcheol leave tiny kisses over your belly, your hands stroking his hair. He slowly looks up at you, his lips harboring a lovesick smile, his eyes shining with a thousand stars.

“If you were not my wife already, I’d ask you to marry me right now,” he chuckles, massaging your hips as he pulls out, his cum almost dripping on the counter top, “That was the best orgasm of my life.” He admits, adoration coming out on his features.

“You’re too silly for my own good,” you joke, slowly sitting up straighter, trying to avoid making an even bigger mess, “We really did a mess of ourselves,” you acknowledge, a smile ever still presents on your lips.

“It’s our turn to get cleaned up now,” he says lightly, picking you up bride style as you let out a little scream at the surprise of being in the air.

Seungcheol might be silly – for saying he’d marry you because you gave him a good orgasm – and much more, but you know where he is coming from. In fact, you’d marry him a hundred times more. For he takes care of you like no one ever will, for he holds your world in his hands and for he is your soulmate. (And also, for the mind-blowing orgasms).

thank you so much for reading, i hope you enjoyed! don't forget to like, reblog, comment 🫶 (and pls send all of your good energy to seungcheol so he can get up on his feet quickly!)

[burnyouwithacigarettelighter]

TAKE YOU DOWN A PEG ─── neil lewis ✧𖦹

ೃ⁀➷ “I want you. Your bones. Your body heat. The bite marks your teeth leave. To see how bad and beautiful those eyes look beneath me." — Beau Taplin.

pairing. sub!neil lewis x reader

summary. gumshoe video’s got a rude customer who neil can’t seem to ban…

warnings. swearing, voyeurism, unprotected sex, creampie, p in v, semi-public sex, breathplay, oral sex (m), cockwarming, degradation/insults, SMUT UNDER THE CUT!

word count. 5.3k

a/n. the hardest thing about writing this was scouring letterboxd for obscure films that i think neil would foam over. pls don’t beat me to death if my film references miss the mark 😭

Neil loves his job. Seriously, seriously, he does. It's completely self-satisfying, his personal passion project that’s taken up a large amount of his life, and brings him the uttermost joy of allowing him to do what he does best: recommend films. 

Gumshoe Video is like his fucking baby, and he takes care of it, immensely; he wipes down every tape every Sunday, he sweeps the floor and rearranges the furniture, he organizes the tapes almost constantly, and he does his hardest to provide stellar, passionate - if almost annoying - film advice. He wants the reviews up on this place, alright, otherwise it feels like he’s letting his baby down. 

Now, if there’s one thing Neil hates about his job, just one minor, teensy weensy thing, it’s probably you. You, the rude customer who came in three months ago and has come in everyday since. 

The day you and Neil Lewis met was one just like the rest. Gumshoe Video was promoting old spaghetti westerns; Neil was wearing a cowboy hat and opening deliveries from a video tape shop in Calabasas that had closed down; you were coming off work and were daydreaming, dizzily entering shops to get your mind off the irritatingly mundane job you had. Unlike Neil, you fucking hate your job. 

You had entered Gumshoe, browsing lazily through the Film Noir section, when Neil sprung up like a weed behind you, speaking animatedly about how the best film noir’s had to be Casablanca, Sunset Boulevard, or Double Indemnity, and if you’d ever watched them before. 

As Neil blabbered on, your left eyebrow became increasingly raised. Finally having enough of him, you spoke. “So, are you one of those guys that talk all over the girl and ask them if they’ve ever seen Citizen Kane, or if I can even name five Ingmar Bergman movies for you?”

Neil spluttered, flustered with being confronted about his obsessive cinephile talking habit of carrying the conversation away like a track runner in a relay race going off with the baton in the wrong direction. “What? I was just —“

“— name dropping film noir’s, ‘cause I’m some ditzy, uncultured bimbo bitch who mistakenly walked in, right?” You said, rolling your eyes. Later, in retrospect, you’ll wonder if you were too rude; then, you’ll remember you don’t give a fuck, you were having a bad day, and Neil Lewis had one hell of an annoying face. 

Neil’s face grew offended, an irritated furrowed brow wiggling onto his features. “If you don’t want to watch what I recommend, you don’t have to!” he exclaimed, arms up placatingly in the air. 

“Uh huh, okay, and you don’t have to shove your pretentious cinephile knowledge up my ass.”

He just stared at you, boring his bright blue eyes into your own, face contorted so exasperatedly you might as well have climbed up to the stars, plucked the moon from the sky, and used it as a pillow. 

My god, Neil thought. Are you just a rude customer? Or did you get off on berating small businesses like a sadistic freak?

After a moment of you two staring each other down in the fluorescent artificial light of Gumshoe, both looking terribly affronted, you left. 

Neil would then rant about this “insane customer” for at least twelve hours straight to anyone who’d liste. The next day, the distasteful experience was extremely close to thereby fully exiting his mind, but didn’t, because you, yes, you, walked in again. 

You shot straight daggers with your eyes at Neil, but your expression became soft, demure, and gentle when you saw Jonathan manning the register instead. You trailed through the aisles unperturbed, Jonathan too busy sporting a hangover from working the late shift at that obscure speakeasy copycat bar (in which, as often as possible, he would sneak a shot to stay awake) to recommend films. 

In any case, that was Neil’s job, and Jonathan leaned over to whisper in his ear: “Neil, man, do me a favor and please distract that customer -- fuck, this headache’s killing me…”

Neil protested, shaking his head rapidly. “That’s her.”

“Her who?”

“Her! The - customer who -- who yelled at me!” 

Jonathan blinked blearily, clearly still too incapacitated to think about the matter much. “She yelled at you… and she’s back. Here. And why exactly is that…?”

“To yell at me s’more, probably!” Neil whisper-shouted incredulously. 

Suddenly, you broke Neil and Jonathan out of their not-so-quiet argument by slamming down Gumshoe Video’s copies of Casablanca, Sunset Boulevard, and Double Indemnity. The irony did not miss Neil - honestly, it was a little on the nose, even for him. 

“Thought I’d see what all the rage was.” you explained “sweetly”, gesturing to Neil as you spoke, indignation seeping through your every word. Your grudge was, well, mostly unexplained, ‘cept for the fact you yourself were an avid cinephile, had watched those three movies more than you could count, and did not take Neil’s “have you watched these before” kindly. 

Thus started you and Neil’s long-winded rivalry slash animosity slash terribly caustic back-and-forth correspondence. 

You keep coming to Gumshoe Video, because, despite your anger towards Neil, you fucking adore the place. The films are downright amazing, the atmosphere is like fucking heaven with the walls lined full of video tapes, decorated in classic film props, campy lifesize cardboard cutouts making you jump at every turn, and Gumshoe Video’s concept is insanely different (and lightyears better) than the corporate monolith that is Media Giant. 

He keeps coming to Gumshoe Video because, again, Neil loves his job, and treats Gumshoe like he carried it for nine months and has been lovingly raising it for the five years it's been open. 

From that first incident, you and Neil’s relationship twisted a little into something like this: you come in, insult him on whatever costume he’s wearing, return the tapes you rented the other night, argue with him for exactly an hour and a half on the couch, insult him for another ten as you browse the store, ignore his film recommendations, and rent three more movies. 

He waits for you to enter, wears the ugliest costume he owns to visually assault you, gladly takes the tapes back, argues with you for 1 and ½ hours, fires back retorts as you insult him, recommends movies he thinks will make you jump out your apartment window, and gives you your movies. 

You’re the minor, teensy weensy headache Neil experiences everyday, but at least, at the very least, Gumshoe makes daily dollars from your rentals - kinda like the payback or relief fund a town gets after a hurricane’s run through it. 

But, (somewhat?) shamefully… there’s a reason Neil doesn’t just ban you from the store and live his life without ever thinking of you again. 

This reason occurred to him a month ago, when he was in the backroom, pasting barcodes and information stickers on tapes that were yet to be placed in the store. You were looking for the washroom, awkwardly stumbling through the back hallway of Gumshoe Video, and since you couldn’t find Neil — he, in spite of the nature of your relationship, trusted you to look around and rent the tapes by yourself, having done it several times while arguing with him at the counter — you had to brave through it alone.

Now, the thing about the room Neil was in — more of a shoe closet than a room, honestly — was that it was locked from the outside, and he didn’t have the key. The key was currently in the hands of one Lucien, who had gone to buy takeout for the two of them because of the late night cataloging of new tapes ahead of them. 

And… he was taking about a hundred years to come back because he was trying to get the cashier’s number at their usual Chinese restaurant. 

Anyway, imagine this: you’re looking for the washroom, and the door to a small room is propped open. You enter, don’t think much of the small stack of empty tape boxes acting as a door stopper, and let it close. The light in there is dim, just a shitty little ceiling light; Neil turns, tapes in his hand; you turn, after closing the door. 

Finally, remember: the room is more of a shoe closet than a room.

“Jesus -- christ!” Neil yelped, startled at your sudden appearance. “What  -- the hell are you doing here?” 

“I take it this isn’t the bathroom?” You murmured, ignoring his question and shifting uncomfortably. Seriously, the tape closet was only meant for one person in it at a time. 

If the lights were brighter, you would’ve seen how hard Neil rolled his eyes; they almost rolled out of his head. “Well, I don’t think so, given the lack of toilet, sink, and light, no.”

“Well, Neil,” you purred, hot breath curling around the sensitive skin of his neck, “maybe, just maybe, you should have a sign for the bathroom, so I don’t have my tits any closer to your face than I want them to.” You said this sweetly, voice husky, low, and oddly sultry, but Neil knew better than that: you probably wanted to fucking kill him right now.

You were right, though; your tits were flush Neil’s bandy chest, the heat between you two growing the longer you were this close in proximity. 

“Now get me out of here,” you said quickly after, ignoring how warm Neil felt against your body. You’d turned so your back faced him, hands twisting at the silver knob of the door - which, Neil honestly didn’t know why was there, considering it didn’t fucking work. 

Neil sighed. “The door locks from the outside.” 

“What?” You said, distracted by leaning down to press your weight against the door like it was just sticky. Moments later, “…What?” you all but shrieked, hands falling from the knob, turning to face him once more. 

And, again, if the lights were brighter you’d have seen Neil’s face better: he was bright fucking red, because, apparently not accounting for the small space of the room, you’d leaned and obliviously had your ass pressed right against him. It didn’t help that his large, warm hands, having long since dropped the tapes he was labeling, hung near the flesh of your rear, having nowhere else to go in the limited space.

Neil thanked the small mercy God graced upon him that there wasn’t any kind of friction, so his soft cock remained just that: soft, and barely noticed by you. 

“The door locks from the outside.” Neil repeated breathlessly, the amount of air in the shoe-box room being incredibly small, too small to share between the two of you. 

“Fucking…” You cursed under your breath, shaking your head in disbelief. “So, what, we have to stay here ‘till someone busts us out? What’re you gonna do if I go batshit and eat you or something?”

“For one, Lucien isn’t going to take that long to come back. Anyway, why’re you assuming you’ll overpower me - what if I go batshit and tear into you?”

You snorted, like the connotation he could overpower you was completely implausible. “Neil, Neil, Neil,” you repeated nonsensically, before lifting a hand up to his shoulder and digging your nails into him, the fabric of his shirt obviously not thick enough to distort your strength. “I could have you pinned down in less than a minute. I do other things than watch movies all day, unlike your lanky ass.”

Neil merely let out a chagrined laugh in response, hands clammy at the thought: you pinning him down— he then shook himself mentally, about to slap himself upside the head. Fucking hell, this situation was doing things to him. 

“You don’t believe me?” You retorted with a raised brow. Swiftly, your hands curled around Neil’s wrists, pinning them behind him and pressing his back against you. “How about now, huh?” you whispered softly in his ear, making his head swim. 

Your chin rested on his shoulder, your nose brushing against his neck, and it took everything in Neil not to let out a breathy keen — this was all too much for him: your touch, your voice, and the apparent dawning on him that he found you terribly, massively, attractive. 

“Fuck, I, er - - um,” Neil scrambled for a response, when the door to the tape closet suddenly opened. Your hands released him immediately, and you strided out, breathing in deeply. 

On the other side stood Lucien, plastic takeout bag in one hand, closet key in the other. “What happened to you?” he asked confusedly, as Neil filed out after you, gaze trained on your stretching figure walking off. 

“We got, uh -- locked, in the- in the tape closet.” Neil murmured, thoughts still fuzzy from your rough touch. 

“With her?” Lucien shuddered, handing Neil the chinese takeout bag sympathetically. “You need this food more than I do.”

So, there it was. Neil’s reason. He would’ve called you an insufferable bitch that he never wanted to see enter Gumshoe Video ever again hundreds of times by now — if your sensual voice insulting him didn’t get him all tight in the pants. 

He began having thoughts — thoughts of you. You, whispering vulgar, humiliating words in his ear, your hands carding his hair, pulling tight against his scalp, selfishly making him do whatever you wanted him to do, no matter his pleas. 

The fantasy was unlike anything Neil had dreamed up before, having always believed it should be him on top, him controlling the situation, him dominating — but it wasn’t a bad one. He’d come faster than he ever did before, just by imagining you were rolling your hips into his own… your strength pinning him down… your lips brushing past the shell of his ear, telling him he was so fucking dirty, so filthy for being this needy. 

However, that was all just a vague, distant pipedream, especially with how you seem to actually hate him. All the interaction he’d had with you consisted of poisonous, irritated words, insults and curses — which had him feeling both incredibly turned on, and sick at the fact he was attracted to you just by being mean to him. 

Sometime after that, nearing the end of the work day, Neil was the only one left there: Jonathan had taken the morning shift, and Lucien was, surprisingly, on a date with the cashier at their usual Chinese restaurant place. Looks like he succeeded in getting her number, while Neil had been pressed against you in that tiny tape closet, moments away from getting a hard-on. 

So, Neil was the only one there - and you were the only customer there. Your daily routine of stopping by and verbally attacking him was late today, so it was nearing midnight when you and Neil sat on the couch and began arguing. 

“I’m sure your “manly” ego isn’t at all pathetic and easily hurt by the superiority of Mia Farrow’s performance in Rosemary’s Baby.” You spat, leaning into the diverse array of old throw pillows that sat on the couch day after day. 

Neil rolled his eyes, hands up in the air animatedly. “My manly ego - and I don’t enjoy the sarcasm nor the air quotes you’re using - isn’t pathetic, nor easily hurt! Mia Farrow just wasn’t better than John Cassavetes was. I stand by the fact they were equal.”

You let out a disbelieving laugh, your hand coming down on Neil’s knee to dig into him angrily. “Neil, I don’t expect you to understand her performance - I don’t think anyone does, not with that little cinephile brain you have. Do you do any thinking up there, or is it just The Treasure of the Sierra Madre on rewind?”

Neil flushed, both at the insults and how your hand was on his fucking leg. “What about you? What is it that makes you keep coming back here if you think my opinion is so… worthless and entitled?” 

You grit your teeth, leaning in closer to him. “Because, Neil, this is the only other video tape shop for miles, and I will not be caught dead at Media Giant. Trust me, I despise this - “arrangement” of ours, far more than you do.”

He huffed, his gaze trailing over your features, unable to come up with a response: he was too busy focussing, trying not to zero in on how your face was inches away from one his, your fingers oddly inching up his thigh. 

“Don’t go making this about me. Why is it,” your continued, hands traced dizzying circles into the fabric of his jeans, “that you don’t just kick me out? I come in here, day after day, berating you, ignoring your recommendations… shouldn’t I have been banned a long time ago?”

Neil gulped. “You’re still a - a customer, one who rents daily I might add—“

You smirked up at him. “Don’t lie to me. I know Gumshoe’s doing just fine… and I heard you, y’know? Last week… in your office.”

“What? What are you talking about?” He stammered out, racking his head for what he might’ve been doing in his office— fuck. 

Fuck, he thought, mind racing rapidly, he thought you had already left by the time he started— 

“I heard you, hiding in your office… stroking yourself, moaning my name.” 

You’d rented just one tape last Friday, for a movie date with a guy from work, and you almost left - before realizing Neil took your membership card and never gave it back. You waltzed back in, and to your obvious surprise, Neil wasn’t at the register. 

“Neil?” You called out softly, trying not to spark an argument with him that would span hours, because you were trying to show up to this date on time. 

You walked down the back hallway, and found his office door, which had a gleaming NEIL LEWIS printed on its foggy glass. 

Your hand had almost reached for the handle, his name on the tip of your tongue, when you heard a needy whine slip past the door. Shocked, you lingered and pulled your hand away, pressing your ear against the pane to listen closer. 

“God, fuck,” you heard Neil curse, his name slipping from your lips like a prayer. “Need you so bad,” you heard him whisper to no-one but himself, before a low moan belted out of him. 

Your face grew warm, immediately, flushed at the news that Neil-fuckin’-Lewis was jerking off, in his office, mumbling your name. You squeezed your eyes shut, continuing to listen to his pretty voice, and after several moments of your lust-riddled mind drinking in his sweet noises, how he was so focussed on his pleasure while completely oblivious to your listening in, you found one of your hands coming up to tweak your erect nipple — fuck, his stuttered little moans had your cunt pulsing with utter need.

Neil was getting close, you could tell, hearing him buck into - what you assumed - was his wooden desk, sloppily muffled mewls leaving his mouth. 

You were biting down on your lip, hard, an incredible amount of self control in place. The man was so horny, sounding so fucking submissive it drove you insane: just the thought that he’d bend to your will and do whatever you wanted made your legs clench.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending who you ask, you felt your phone begin buzzing in the waistband of your modesty shorts - probably the date you were late for - and you had quickly fled. 

“Oh, jesus,” Neil blurted out now, alarmed, immediately in the flight part of fight or flight. “I- whatever you heard, I can - I can explain, really, so please don’t—“

Your hand gripped his thigh, keeping him from getting up. “Hey, hey, shh,” you said, bringing a finger to your lips. “You don’t have to explain yourself. I know, just as well as you do, how bad you want me.”

Truly, Neil couldn’t control himself that night. You had walked in, wearing a delicious little dress with a sweetheart neckline, strolling around in 3-inch heels, cooing mockingly at his costume for that week’s theme — a criminal wearing nifty little handcuffs to promote the double feature promotion of crime films and dramas — purposely leaning down to make him feel smaller than you. 

Neil had flushed, looking away, willing himself not to let out a needy groan at your get-up, instead silently checking out your tape rentals and quickly handing them back to you. After you’d walked out of the store, he’d dashed to his office, feeling the tent in his pants grow warm, aching. 

Quite similarly to how he felt now, your eyes coursing over his entire form, so close Neil felt himself sinking into the couch. 

“Look how fucking hard you are already.” you whispered, hand drawing away from his thigh and reaching for the bulge in his jeans, palming him between the fabric. “Does it turn you on? The fact you got caught?”

Neil’s breath hitched. “Fuck, please, I—“ 

“You’re so pathetic.” You said, laughing at him. “I can feel how big you are, such a thick cock, and all you know how to do with it is beg.”

Your plush lips were curled into a cheshire grin, baring your sharp teeth at him, and Neil was ashamed at how badly he wanted those teeth to press painful bites into his sensitive skin. 

He was about to whine again, plead desperately, but he shut up when you slipped off the couch, sinking to your knees, fingers undoing his belt buckle and fly. Shifting his jeans down, you dipped your hand down the waistband of his boxers and pulled his cock out: it was angry, hard and begging for release. 

But you wanted to tease him before you got to the good part. First, your warm breath fanned over his cock, making him jump, trying to rut up into your mouth, and your soft lips slipping past his leaking head had his hands tugging at your hair, trying to pull you closer to him. 

You thinned your eyes and got up, hand pressing his cheeks together and forcing his jaw open. You spit into his mouth, then patronizingly patted his face, “Do that again and I won’t touch you - I’ll take my tapes and leave you a needy fucking mess on this couch.”

Neil groaned, your spit foreign and hot on his tongue like lava. “God, I… I just wanna — want you so bad.” 

You tutted, sinking back down on your knees to face his rock hard length up and pressed flat against his abdomen. “Not yet. You haven’t earned it, you desperate fucking pervert. D’you know who jerks off in their office to someone they barely know? Fucking perverts.”

He leaned his head back, a moan leaving his lips at your insulting choice of words. It felt like you were torturing him, but his body wanted nothing more than you. 

Your lips then ghosted past him for another moment before you started your assault on his strained cock: you laid tentative kitten licks all the way down his length, enjoying how he squirmed under you, wanting nothing more but your wet mouth around him. Then, without warning, you took him in your mouth whole, tongue dragging and curling around his cock. You devoured him salaciously, hollowing your cheeks, sliding his cock in and out of your full mouth at an alarming speed, hitting the back of your neck with each thrust. 

Your tongue felt heavenly on his cock: wet, warm, and sticky, lapping at him without stopping. Your teeth grazed against him lightly, and Neil’s back arched into your touch. 

He was practically convulsing now, drooling as his eyes rolled to the back of his head at the pure pleasure you were inflicting on him with no split second or moment for him to regain his composure. You wanted to see him fall apart, come undone just by your mouth, he realized, and he wanted to let you, wanted to let go — but, as fast as you’d taken his hard cock into your mouth, you let him drop from your lips. 

“Why did you - please, fuck -- why did you stop?!” Neil whimpered noisily, head rolling onto his chest to look down at your face: lips plump, faint tear tracks running off your cheeks, your gagged spit falling from your chin. 

“I oughta take you down a peg, Neil. Show you what a dumb fucking loser you are, pretending you’re so confident, so dominant, like you know everything there is about movies.” You responded nonchalantly, getting up and shedding your panties and leggings. 

“M’not dumb,” he whined, looking at you through heavy lidded eyes, “god, you’re killing me here.”

“You’ll live,” you grinned, climbing on his lap and lining your wet sex with the fat head of his cock. Then you descended down on him, watching blissfully as his cock disappeared into your folds.

Neil’s hands wrapped around your waist, burying his face into your neck. He mewled against your skin, drunk on your tantalizing scent, lips wet with drool and leaving a slick trail. 

Despite your dominance in this situation, completely controlling Neil’s pleasure, you couldn’t control your own: Neil’s cock felt fucking good, long and thick in all the right places, a curve that arched right against your cervix, veins rubbing against your walls pleasantly. He stretched your cunt completely, making you wince, but there was still pleasure there, the feeling of your crevices being filled with his fat cock making your toes curl. 

After a moment of getting used to his cock, you rose back up, then sunk down, your hands gripping his shoulders for dear life. Neil’s head shot back, a labored cry leaving him as you set a steady, almost too slow pace, torturously sliding his cock in and out of your tight hole. 

Your hands trailed across his still-clothed chest, and you grieved the chance lost to have stripped him, your touch teasing him every step of the way — but having him deep within you was probably better. 

“Your- fuck, you’re so -- so soft,” Neil squeaked below you, revelling in how you took him, bottoming out each time like it was nothing. 

You simpered at his words, how helpless he was, succumbing to the pleasure; to you. “Knew you were,” you slammed down on his cock, making Neil choke, “pretending to be arrogant. You just needed someone to put you in your place.” 

Neil hadn’t realized it wasn’t a rhetorical question until your hand came up to his hair, tangling through his locks and tugging. “Who d’you belong to? Who put you in your place?” you murmured lowly. 

He whimpered at your roughness, leaning into the sofa obediently. “You! You own me,” he pleaded, desperately chasing his own pleasure. 

“That’s it,” you said, shutting your eyes, bobbing up and down on his cock faster. Your ass bounced above him, and Neil’s hands rested on the flesh of your rear, massaging you. 

Greedily, Neil tried to thrust into you, but you weren’t having any of it, deterring his attempts by pushing him so he laid flat on the couch, your hands pinning his wrists above his head, the new position pushing him deeper into you. 

“You stay down, you dirty fuckin’ loser,” you said caustically, but your actions said otherwise: your walls were squeezing around him needily, your cunt sucking him in so far you could feel his balls brushing against your clit. 

The tip of his cock brushed past your g-spot each time you rutted into him, and soon enough you felt it: that pulsing, that heat, that familiar coiling within your insides. Neil was reaching it too, his face flushed pink and his breathing as heavy as it was back then, in the tape closet. 

You began thumping down on him, your fingers tightening around his scalp. Your pace had gotten feverish, bordering feral, both your minds focussed on one thing: release. You could feel your cunt tensing, your mind going foggy, and then, there it was: your pleasure ran through you like electric current, shocking your body. You felt numb, tingly like when the blood flow to your arm gets cut off for a moment, making your pace stutter. 

You didn’t stop, however, riding out your high on his cock, bouncing up and down on Neil’s thick length. He felt fucking delicious, piercing you in all the right ways, and you adored how malleable he was right now: so horny and submissive he stopped speaking and was merely letting dirty moans leave his mouth without any protest. His gaze, his focus, was elsewhere, lost in the deep haze of pleasure your cunt was subjecting him too. 

You leaned down, pressing small love-bites onto his skin like he’d fantasized so many times before, and it broke him out of his stupor. “Did you think of this, in your office?” you whispered, “did you think of me, my tits bouncing, your cock deep in my cunt?”

“Ugh,” Neil groaned, reveling in how your seductive voice sounded like music. He was much, much closer than he thought, and when you licked up his jaw, your hot breath on the shell of his ear making him sweat, your cunt still fucking him roughly, he let go. 

You felt it first, the familiar liquid bursting past his thick head and painting your fleshy walls creamy, like a new coat of alabaster that Gumshoe desperately needed. 

“So good, so wet,” Neil groaned, shutting his eyes and pressing his forehead to yours. You stared at him, watching his lewd expression throughout his entire high, waiting for that beautiful blue gaze of his to open and face you again. 

“I’m milking you dry. Look how fucking full you’ve made me, you filthy pervert.” You were taking him for every drop he could offer, and it was delectable. 

You two were heaving now, both coming down from your highs. You’d effectively ruined the couch, your slick soaking the cushions and his jeans, as well as his come, which was leaning out of your still-stuffed hole. 

“I think you’ve gotta replace this manky ass couch, Neil,” was the first thing you said, your hands sliding down from their grip in his hair to his pink cheeks, rubbing his skin delicately. 

His eyes opened, watching you carefully. “It was about time,” Neil shrugged breathlessly. “Do you… do you actually - hate me?” he continued, murmuring self-consciously. 

You laughed, but it wasn’t sharp, not at him like before, no; it was tender, like a scarf Neil wanted to wrap around him in the winter time.

“I never hated you,” you murmured, tone reverent, “you’re just a little, how does it go…”

“Presumptuous?” Neil finished for you. 

You nodded, then grasped at his shirt and pulled him from the couch so he was sitting upright again. “Jus’ wanted to, ahem, “take you down a peg” like I said earlier..” you trailed off, cheeks growing warm remembering your earlier behavior during sex. 

This was all very new, to the both of you — you, in all your relationships and flings, were not the dominant partner. You guessed there was a first time for everything.

Then, you were about to get off his lap, but Neil held you steady on his cock. “Don’t go,” he said simply. “I’ve got Brief Encounter in the player, if you want to, y’know…” 

He wasn’t hard anymore, but it just felt good, cozy, having you two talk and regain your composure with him filling you nicely. It felt right. 

You smiled, a gummy, blissful smile. “Okay. I’ve actually never seen this,” you said, turning to face the tv, wincing slightly. 

“Really?” Neil said, an amazed joy seeping into his voice. 

“I’m joking,” you snorted, and you could practically see Neil pouting behind you. “But I don’t think we’ll be paying much attention…” you purred, clenching your thighs around his length. 

“Jesus fuck,” Neil groaned behind you, hands coming under your shirt, “you’re exactly like those movies.”

“I’m even better, baby.” 

[daydreams-after-dark]

Hi love >_<!! How are you???

Because it's almost my birthday. (just 15 days !) Could you maybe write something for my birthday? :> I am requesting it very early because I'm so busy with my own life, including my mental health, so I won't be online often ( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜)  ( 1 am totally okay, tho!! So don't worry about me!) You can post it before or after my birthday. I don't really mind when!

Something about birthday sex mixed with slight angst if you don't mind?? (Pure smut is totally okay!) Make it filthy and add whatever you want, as I already said once; I'm open for everything!! (I'm a slut ngl..)

P.s. I'm into piss lately..shhh

- lots of love 🎪

pairing: male escort!lino x fem birthday girl reader (I hope it's okay that I have chosen Lino for this?)

Your friends pay for a sex worker for your birthday, but what happens when arrives and you already know each other?

A/n: Hey Happy Birthday 🎪 my love. I hope you are well and taking care of yourself 😘 Tending to real life and mental health is extremely important.

I hope that my little scenario is okay, I am struggling with writing lately. The ideas are there, but the execution is not as good as I want it to be.

warnings below the cut

CW: Piss Kink (f on m), breeding kink, unprotected p in v (pls be safe), restraints, paid sex, birthday sex, oral sex, vaginal fingering.

You’re not really sure why you decided to dial the number on the gift card your best friends gave you. Really? Why of all the presents they could have chosen, did they think it appropriate to gift you a male escort/gigalo? One who does home visits at that?

Yep! They knew you hadn’t had sex in almost a year, and they knew you really needed to get laid.

You’d never paid for sex before. Technically, you’re not paying for sex in this instance either, your friends have. But still. What are you thinking? Letting a stranger come in and do things to you.

The doorbell chimes and you let out a shaky breath. “Happy Birthday, Bitch!” You wink at yourself in the mirror and take one last look over your body. You’d shaved your legs, popped on a little thong, and slipped a short satin dress on. No bra. Fuck! You sigh. It’s basically a short satin camisole nightie. Will this be okay?

The doorbell chimes again and you hurry to open the door to your apartment.

“Lino?” You gasp in surprise when you see your brother’s best friend standing in your doorway and not the escort. You squint your eyes. It is him isn’t it? You haven’t seen him in five years. But it has to be him.

“Y/n? Noona?” He smiles and takes a good look at your face. “Um… I…ah…must have the wrong address.” He begins nervously. “Let me just check where I’m supposed to be.” He whips out his phone. “Unit 4, 70…”

“Yep. That’s this address.” You say awkwardly.

You stare at each other for a moment as realisation hits.

“You booked an escort?”

“You’re the escort?”

Lino laughs while you hide your face in your hands “Fuck! This is so embarrassing.” You wail.

“So you did hire an escort. Well then... Do you want me to come in? Leave? You’re the client. It’s your call.”

“My friends organized it. They think…” you trail off.

So many questions run through your mind. Why is Lino an escort? And dear god, what if he tells your brother about this? Is Lino actually going to fuck you? No! That’s probably very unlikely. But he is extremely attractive… and he is paid for… You bite your lip.

“So? What’s it going to be?”

“Hmm?” Your thought are broken.

“Shall I stay, or leave?” He repeats.

——

You couldn’t turn him away, that would have been rude right? So you brought him in, offered him a drink and snack and invited him to sit on the couch with you.

Now you’re half an hour into a conversation about what you had both been doing for the past few years. You learned that being a gigalo… sorry, escort, is Lino’s side hustle while he brings to life his big dream of opening a restaurant-slash-dance entertainment establishment.

“Like a strip club?” You raise an eyebrow.

He rolls his eyes. “No, not a strip club. It’s going to be for all ages.”

He learned about you too. What you do for a living, your bad breakup a year ago, how it’s your birthday and your friends organized this as a gift.

He unzips his black backpack that you hadn’t even realized he had with him, and retrieves a tablet.

“Alright, let’s see what you have booked.” He opens an app and smirks as he skims over the details.

“Wait! What are you reading?” You try to catch a glimpse of the screen but he pulls it away.

“I don’t know what my friends told you…” you tug your hair wishing you were invisible.

"it says here: vanilla sex." He turns the tablet to show you.

Your mouth hangs open in shock. "Those fucking bitches think I want vanilla sex?" You shriek. "Or was that the cheapest option?" you pout.

Lino laughs haughtily. "Hey, don't shoot the messenger. Or orgasm giver. What is it I've read on Instagram - 'don't bite the hand that fingers you?'"

"Give it here." You snatch the device from him. "Am I suppose to sign something? Tick some boxes? Consent to some shit?" You scroll the screen.

"The next tab over." Lino leans over your shoulder. "Yep. Right there." He pokes his tongue out of his mouth slightly as his eyes catch some of the "inclusions" that can be selected.

In your desire to prove your friends wrong, and that you don’t want just vanilla sex, you hastily tick every single box on the form and sign the bottom. "There! Surprise me! It is my birthday afterall." you huffed.

Lino raises an eyebrow. Then suddenly he pulls you by an arm and a leg forcing you to straddle him. You yelp in surprise, but it’s quickly replaced with a sigh, and you really hope he didn’t notice.

His face is awfully close to yours and you can already feel yourself growing wet with anticipation. Are you really about to be fucked by your little brother’s best friend? The one that used to have sleepovers at your house. The one that used to wear cat print pyjamas?

“Do you even know what you signed up for?” He whispers eyeing you up and down and swallowing hard.

“I said surprise me.” You gulp.

His hands run up your thighs. “Is this thing expensive?” He asks gently tugging at the hem of your black satin dress.

You shake your head.

“Good.” He growls as he tears the garment from your body. Your hands fly up to cover your exposed breasts, but he tugs them away roughly. “I used to wonder what your tits looked like. Fuck! They’re perfect.” He sighs and takes a nipple into his mouth. You gasp and throw your head back. You grind against his crotch, and you notice he has hardened in his jeans.

“Wanna know a secret?” He says as he pops off your nipple and licks it. “I used to get hard when you’d walk around your house braless.” He bites down your nipple making you cry out. “Sometimes,” he begins to pepper kisses across your chest towards your other nipple. “You’d show me your nipples through your shirt. They’d get so hard, poking against the fabric. I’d have to go jack off. That’s how hot I thought you were.”

“Were?” You raise an eyebrow.

"Were. Are. Always will be." He locks eyes on you and you feel the tension in the air thicken.

"Are you really going to fuck me, Lino?" you whisper quietly.

"I'm going to make this a night you're never going to forget." He replies huskily.

"You didn't answer my question." You smirk, threading your fingers through his dark locks.

He holds onto your ass as he slips off the couch to lay you down onto your soft fluffy rug in the middle of your living room.

Leaning over you, propped up on one arm and cupping your cheek with the other, he leans down and captures your mouth in a kiss. The gentleness is unexpected, but it isn't long until he is kissing you more purposefully. His tongue glides over yours making you hum into his mouth. He moans at that, deepening the kiss even further, like he wants to possess you.

You hold on for dear life as he presses his strong thigh between your legs, nudging them open so he can press hard against your core. Your back bows off the floor and you whimper. Fuck, you must sound so desperate. But it has been so long since you had anyone, besides yourself, has touched you.

He presses his thigh against you again and chuckles when you respond with another moan. "Such pretty noises, Noona." He smiles against your cheek. "If I were to touch your pussy, I bet it would be soaking." He leans up and looks at you. "I'm dying to know."

He looks around the living room, seemingly making some kind of assessment, and then he's back into his backpack. You lean up on your arms to see him with a velvet-like rope in his hands. Your cunt clenches and an excitement swirls around your stomach.

"Lay back down." He instructs, and then he's tying your wrists together with the soft rope. He positions your arms above your head and secures the ropes to the leg of your chunky timber coffee table.

But that's not all. Lino is back with more ropes, this time tying one around each of your legs. He manages to position you in such a way that he can secure the other end of the ropes to the little wooden legs of your couch, forcing you to be spread open for him.

You feel so exposed and so utterly vulnerable, even with your tiny thong on. But even that doesn't stay on for long, as Lino cuts it off with scissors.

He sits back on his heels between your legs and takes you in. "That's better. You won't be able to squirm away. Now I can get a good look at your pussy." He bites his lip and runs his hands up the inside of your thighs. You shiver at his touch, not sure how you're going to last. You're on the verge of an orgasm as it is.

"So fucking wet, Noona." He states as he spreads your folds gently and runs his thumb through your arousal. He slides a finger into your tightness, then a second. "Tight too. It's been a while, hmm?" He teases.

"Unfortunately, yes." You cry.

"Let's take care of you then." He promises and without warning begins to finger fuck you hard, fast, and angled directly into your g-spot.

"No! Lino! Not yet...can't come yet!" You beg.

"Oh Kitten, you are gonna come when I say, and as many times as I say."

He's relentless with his fingers. You can't squirm away, forced to take what he is giving you. You're cunt is already producing the most lewd sounds you've ever heard. How can you possibly be this wet? How can Lino be so good at this? Your eyes roll back as you give in, accepting the pleasure. The tightness inside of you ready to burst. "Oh god... fuck..." you pant. Your chest feels flush and you know your face is turning a slight shade of pink as you edge closer to release.

"That's it... come all over my fingers." He coaxes.

You come hard, your back lifting off the floor, your thighs trembling, and tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

You collapse, panting. "Lino," you say as your try to catch your breath. "So good...so fucking good. How are you this good?" You sob.

"Shhh. It's okay. Here. Suck these." he lays beside you and pushes his glistening fingers into your mouth. You've never really had anyone shove their fingers into your mouth before, but it feels so erotic. You moan as you taste yourself on him, urging him to push his fingers deeper into your mouth. You make a pathetic sound when he goes to pull them away, so he lets you suck and lightly choke on them a little longer.

"If that's how you suck my fingers, my cock's not going to stand a chance." he says with a half smile. Your eyes snap open and you stare at him with pleading eyes.

"Oh you wanna suck it do you?" he pulls his fingers out of your mouth.

You nod. "Please! Let me..."

He sucks in a breath. "Well, I can't say no to the birthday girl. Or client. Especially when they selected everything under the sun on their terms of agreement. Including, golden showers."

"Wait! What?" You lift your head, horrified. Minho looks at you incredulously, as he strips his clothes off. You are stunned. Partially because you didn't even know that was on the list, and also because Lino naked is the most beautiful thing you have ever laid eyes on.

"It's okay. You don't have to do anything you don't want." He says as pumps his delicious looking cock a few times. He seems to be hard as stone and leaking. He's leaking for you? Fuck.

You don't have time to even think more about the piss option, as Lino positions himself so you are in 69 position. You open your mouth wide, allowing him to sink his cock into your eager mouth, while at the same time he buries his face in your pussy. You moan around his thickness as he demonstrates just how skilled he is with his mouth.

He eats you out like a starved man. Lapping at you eagerly. You try to grind against his face, but he holds you firm so you can't move. He groans against you, making you whimper around his cock. It's a delicious cycle, each of your sounds and vibrations from your mouths, making the other respond in the same way. Lino starts to thrust into your mouth, his balls hitting you in the face each time. You want him to suffocate you, and you wish your hands were free so you could pull him in deeper.

All you can do is try to meet his thrusts by lifting your head as much as you can and hope he gets the message. He does get the message, and fucks your face as he slides several fingers into your cunt. He slurps on your clit and hits that sweet spot inside you, all while you're struggling for air.

It's too much and you come again. This time harder than before. He works you through it, slowing both his cock and fingers down to a slow pace. He eventually peels himself off you and sits beside you panting.

"Lino?" You whimper looking at his disheveled hair, and drenched chin. "Didn't you want to come down my throat?" you panted.

"I wasn't sure if you wanted me to?" he says shyly. He unties you from your restraints and you sit up and give him a devious look.

"What?" he looks back at you suspiciously.

"When you used to jack off because of me, what did you think about?"

"Oh, right. That?" he lays down on the rug beside you. "Well." he pauses to think. "I often imagined you riding me. Like... You couldn't contain your urges, so you'd find me in your brother's room and push me down and force me to breed you." He admits.

"In my brother's room?"

"Yah! He wouldn't be there in the fantasies." He growled. But you were already moving into position.

"So... you mean I'd climb over you like this?" You throw a leg over him hovering over his needy cock.

He nods and swallows hard.

"Then what? I sink down onto your thick, hard cock, because I need it so badly?'

"Y-yes. Wait!" His eyes flick open in horror. "Condom."

You lean down over him and kiss him on the mouth. You really don't know where this confidence is coming from. Maybe learning that Minho had it bad for you when he was younger makes you feel powerful.

"Oh, but Lino. How are you gonna breed me if we use a condom?" you whisper.

"Fuck!" He moans and pulls you down hard over his length until he is completely inside of you.

"What are you doing to me, Noona?" He whimpers as you start to roll your hips. He's so deep, and fills you so perfectly, and you can already feel your third orgasm building.

Lino's hands are all over you, caressing, squeezing, digging his fingers in. Eventually his hands find purchase on your hips, digging his fingers in hard enough to bruise as he rocks you hard on his cock. Your clit grinds perfectly against his body. It's rough, fast, slippery from your slick. He slaps your ass a few times and growls when your flesh jiggles.

"I'm close." You squeak.

"Fuck! Me too. Me too. Piss on me." He pants.

"What?" You cry, but you don't slow down. You need to come so bad that nothing is going to slow you down.

"Do it." he cries. "Hurry!"

Fuck! Really? He really wants you to? Can you even do it? You aren't sure that you're body will even let you, even if you wanted to.

"Do it now, Noona. I'll give you all my cum if you do." He sounds so desperate underneath you, that you close your eyes and let go.

You feel a warmth pool on his pelvis between your legs. You dare yourself to open your eyes. You peek through your lashes to see Lino with the most aroused expression you have ever seen in your life. Then he starts fucking into you. Painfully hard. The breath knocked from your lungs with each thrust. You feel him grow even hard inside you as he is on the verge from exploding, and it sets r you orgasm.

You clamp down hard around him like a vice. He cries out, filling you to the brim with his cum, just like he promised he would.

Your orgasms are intense, long, satisfying.

You flop down on top of him, allowing your heart to calm and your breath to return to normal.

"Lino. I hope there was an inclusion where you clean up and replace damaged items in your terms of service. Cos this rug is well and truly fucked."

"I'll take care of it." He hums.

"Lino?"

"Hmm?" he wraps his arms around you.

"This was the best birthday present ever."

"You're very welcome." He smiles to himself, but you don't see it because your face is on his chest.

“Happy birthday, Noona.”

————

A/n: I feel like Lino breached several rules as an escort… unsafe sex, knowing the client, having had a crush on the client in the past… but this is how the story turned out… so…. 🥴

@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin @weareapackofstrays @3rachasdomesticbanana @palindrome969 @xxkissesforchanniexx @chuuchuu1224 @fun-fanfics @rhonnie23 @jisunglyricist @strayywayy @armystay89 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @mylittleponeypinkrosieposie @kyunchoni @justforreaders @melochacco @scenuniverse @oddracha @ismokeeweed @galaxycatdrawz @jiminssluttyminx @teddy-stay @lunearta

[yandere--stuck]

i know you didn't respond to my previous ask with ideas yet (and i wanna say pls no pressure!! i'm sure you must get a lot of asks!!) but man. especially after ur last post i was wondering if i could share some gore writing i wrote for bill? totally fine if not, have a nice day! (also, sorry he keeps possessing you </3 get well soon! :P) - that one anon who wrote zagreus gore a while ago

Just wanna say, first of all, so glad you're still around, anon!!! You're such a great writer and I'm still a huge fan of what you sent in to me! Hope you're doing well c:

And secondly 👀 Hopefully this will be a preview to a longer thing I plan to write

Warning for gore/suggestive stuff under the cut teehee :3

I can totally imagine Bill chaining the object of his affection down. On your knees, each wrist strapped in glowing blue metal cuffs above your head. All vulnerable and all for him.

Your flesh is so pretty and soft. He wants to drink you in completely. The only thing to ever dare grace his vision. But, what he's really interested in is what lies underneath.

The human body is hilarious! You know, if you really wanted to protect yourself from danger, your kind should have evolved some sort of exoskeleton to protect such a vulnerable spot from attacks. Oh, well! All the easier for him to slash into.

His eye crinkles with delight as you writhe against your restraints in agony. Tears pool from your eyes and screams rip from your throat. You make such beautiful noises for him, this has to be in his top five favorites!

He just watches for a while. Watches the blood pool out of your stomach, stares into the inside of your stomach. His hands itch. All those squishy little organs to play with…

You hang your head, breath coming out in stutters. Drool drips from your mouth, mind too fogged with pain to care.

Bill laughs when you flinch away from him, your eyes suddenly wide as the demon move closer. You thrash in a feeble attempt to get away, body taught and mind in a frenzied panic as he reaches in-

Bill coos at you when your entire body locks up. Your mouth wide open in a frozen scream as he plunges his hands inside your guts. He digs around, grasping and rubbing your inside for what he's looking for…

Aha!

He grips your intestines and pulls, your insides quickly becoming your outsides. You should be dead. You'd rather be dead than in such agony, but you know he'd never ever let you.

With reverence, Bill strokes and rubs and caresses your intestines, taking in the sounds of your suffering with glee. One day, you'll get used to the pain. And then, after that, he knows you'll start to like it. He can't wait for the day that you ask him to do this to you, for you to beg him for it. He can't wait for you to understand that this is how he shows his love.

Slowly, he lifts an intestinal rope to his eye. He forms his eyelids into lips to press a gentle kiss to it. From within his eye, a monstrous tongue comes put to lap at the blood that had been smeared onto his lids.

“Told you I loved you from the inside-out," he quipped. 

[feyascorner]

7 | The Fangs Between Us

summary. “It’s too hard to see. We need to turn back.”

“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of a little bit of darkness.”

You scrunch your nose at this, and he merely grins. Before you can say anything, he’s back to pacing across the dirt without a care in the world—almost too fast for your liking. “Will you at least slow down?”

“Shall I hold your hand?”

“I’d rather cut it off.”

“A pity.”

warnings. angst, comfort, slow burn, tav reader is a bard, italics are flashbacks

pairing. Astarion x GN!Reader

parts. TFBU masterlist

a/n. 6.9k words !!! this chapter took forever but somehow i managed!! thank you so much for your kind words and patience !!! he's kind of a silly guy in the chapter so pls enjoy this peace offering as the calm before a storm

“Are you sure this is the right course of action? Letting him ascend?” Shadowheart asks as you adjust one of the logs in the campfire, watching the other companions organize their tents from afar. You stop at this, turning to face her.

“It’s what he wants,” you mumble. “I won’t stop him if he’s sure this is the right thing to do.”

You’re still getting used to her hair, which’s now as white as a sheet, but you think it looks lovely against the fire. She seems calmer than she did when she was with Shar. At peace, almost. She casts you a sidelong glance. “Can we really trust his judgment of all people? He’s—I mean, well, him.”

“I know it sounds unreasonable," you say letting yourself sit down beside her on her bedroll. “But I want him to make his own decisions. He’s spent too many years having no choice of his own, and I’d be the worst person to take it away from him again.”

“I just,” her voice softens. “Astarion’s a complicated person, and I’m sure you know better than us. It’s because he couldn’t make his own choices for so long that it makes me think he’s lost his capability to make any choices anymore. Good ones, at least.”

“I trust him.”

“Gods knows how.”

You stifle a laugh, and she sips at her wine, eyes still glazing over the camp. There’s a kind of solemnness to them that makes your stomach churn. “You seem worried.”

“Not worried, per se,” she shrugs. “I just realize that I owe a debt to you for what you did for me against my lad—I mean, Shar. And I myself almost went down that dark path of becoming a Justiciar if it weren’t for you. At the time, I thought it was the best thing for me too, like Astarion believes ascension to be what will set him free.”

You nod patiently, urging her to continue.

“I only fear he might make the wrong choice if he doesn’t have the right guidance as I did.”

The words feel hesitant on her tongue. And although they make the voice in the back of your head, telling you to convince Astarion otherwise, louder, you ignore it, opting to smile at her softly instead. “Is this you caring about our companions?”

“Heavens, no,” she snorts, but there’s a joking tone behind her voice. “But like I said…I’m indebted to you all. Astarion also aided in my personal affairs with Shar, even if he didn’t have to, and even with his incessant complaining…I suppose this is my way of paying him back.”

Your chest warms. It’s soothing to know that even without you, your other companions have enough care for your lover to offer him bits of advice; in a way, it relieves a bit of weight off your shoulders. Even the companions who claim to detest his presence have grown fond of him over the months, and you’re sure it goes both ways. It helps because even if you’re gone, you know he’ll be okay.

“I never told you formally,” she sighs. “But thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me or feel indebted. I just did what I could for you.”

“Don’t be so humble. What you’ve done for me—for all of us—is something we’ll cherish for the rest of our lives,” she takes her last swig from her wine. “But from one messed up person to another, please, be careful.”

Your wrist feels sore.

Two days. It’s been two days since the incident at the Blushing Mermaid, and still, your body seems to burn whenever you see his closed door across yours from the hall, and all you can do is rub shamefully at the healing puncture wounds on your wrist. The bandages looping around the skin do a good enough job of hiding them, but you genuinely wish you could just ask Shadowheart to heal them for you because being able to see them does little to help with the constant thoughts of the vampire muddling the clarity of your mind. 

But you’d rather not let your companions know what happened between you and the vampire on the dirtied floors of the Blushing Mermaid. You’d likely die of shame for letting him drink from you, even after your mutual agreement to specifically avoid just that. What’s worse is that you expect the worst from Lae’zel, especially after her explicit advice to do the exact opposite of what you chose to do.

You tighten the bandages again.

“Did those yourself, did you?”Alfira snorts, and you almost have half a mind to glare at her if it weren’t for the crumpled sheets of paper surrounding the legs of her chair. The ink on the discarded pages now blends into mush as they lie in the puddles forming around her—an aftermath of the recent rainy weather. You don’t tell her, though. She seems frustrated enough as it is, and you fear she might snap a string of her lute if this prolongs any longer. “How’d you get hurt anyway?”

“It’s a bug bite.”

“A rather massive bug, apparently.”

The corners of your lips quirk downward, and she finally sets her lute aside, careful to avoid the puddles as she props it against the side of her stool to focus on her notepad instead. Though most of its pages have now been torn out, the remaining few have scribbles of song lyrics that even you can’t decipher with how messily the ink splatters across the page. She, however, seems perfectly fine reading its contents aside from her glaringly obvious distaste for the words themselves. You raise your brow. “Can you really read that?”

“Oh, hush. Don’t insult my penmanship.”

You snicker, eyes continuing to scan the sheets of paper that had been abandoned on Dalyria’s desk at the Blushing Mermaid. It’d taken quite some time to take apart the pages plastered on the wall and to organize the mountain of doctor’s notes lying across the lair, but you’d managed to fish out something useful eventually. The journal was one that seemed especially important, filled to the brim with Dalyria’s so-called ‘research.’ 

But if the past few days have told you anything, it’s that Dalyria is a terrible note-taker.

The pages are filled with shapes. Some are curved, and others just bend and contort into odd figures that you’re sure aren’t supposed to look like letters. Each page studies a different shape on a random part of the page, leaving them scattered and difficult to decipher.

You’re starting to think this is just some odd attempt at art rather than the studies she claims to be performing.

“And? Why are you here if you’re not here to look at those lyrics I gave you?”

“I’m trying to figure out what this journal says,” you sigh, flipping another page you don’t understand. “And if you couldn’t tell, I’m rather busy trying to find the people responsible for murders around the city, so excuse me if I haven’t had the time to glance at your song.”

“I’m plenty busy myself, you know! I just got hired to sing at this fancy party for some celebration. They even said I could dress all nice for it,” she smiles proudly, and you offer her a crooked one of your own. “It’s my first serious gig—so I’m a bit nervous with how large it is…”

“How’d you land something like that before you’ve even played at children’s birthday parties?”

“Well, I’m not doing it alone, obviously,” she reasons, scratching something on her pages again. “I’m going with one of my friends. She’s a wonderful violinist, and she managed to squeeze me into the event, which I’m so grateful for…I suppose I’m just a bit worried.”

You look up from Dalyria’s notebook. “Worried? What for?”

“That my fingers will lock up, and I’ll humiliate myself,” she admits sheepishly, tucking a portion of her hair behind her sharp ear. “Lihala used to call me silly for worrying about things that haven’t happened–but I can’t help it. It’s the before-show jitters. Pesky things. It’s a bit embarrassing, really.”

Humming in acknowledgment, you look to the murky skies overhead, where dark clouds threaten to pour down for at least another few days. A shame, you think. You’ve never seen the Summers of Baldur’s Gate feel so dreary.

It’s fitting, almost, considering the state that the city is in.

The painful sound of quill scratching against paper is all you can hear now as Alfira sighs irritably again, ripping out another sheet of paper.

“It’s not embarrassing,” you finally say.

She blinks up from her notepad. “What is?”

“Being nervous. I’ve done more performances than I can count, and my hands would still get clammy in front of a big crowd,” you laugh to yourself. “But when you see how they watch you as if you’re performing sorcery with your lute, it’s like you were never anxious in the first place. The audience is what makes it bearable.”

“Gods, I hope you’re right,” she smiles fondly as you continue to reminisce in your own memories. “It’s a rather shame we never got to perform together. Not after the last time we played at the Grove–and I don’t even count that occasion with how unstable my voice was…”

“I can watch if you’d like,” you offer. “Your performance, I mean.”

Her eyes gleam with excitement, and she reaches to clasp both your hands, beaming brightly. “Will you? I’m sure if you’re there, it’ll ease my nerves, too!-”

As you shift in your seat to follow your hands, Dalyria’s notebook slips off your lap. The simple splash beneath you tells you all you need to know as your eyes shoot down to where the notebook now lies face down into a puddle, and you don’t even have to lift it to know that its pages are soaked.

But you don’t have to pick it up yourself because Alfira’s carefully holding it in an instant, her face pale as she fans her hand in a fruitless attempt to prevent the damage already done. “Dammit, I’ve done it again! I’m truly sorry…I didn’t mean for that to happen! But I’m sure if we just put it in the sunlight for a few days, it’ll–”

You gently take it from her hands, shaking your head. Perhaps it’s because you were just deep into memories you hold dear to your heart, but there isn’t an ounce of panic in your voice. “It’s fine. I wasn’t getting anywhere with this thing anyway.”

“Still…”

The pages stick together in chunks as you flip the journal towards the pages that are at least half dry. You fear they might tear off at the slightest touch, so all you can do is stare at a page you deem to be soaking up the ink from the pages behind it. Alfira groans into her hands, and before you can spare her a glance to remind her it’s alright, you spot something in the middle of the page.

“Holy shit,” you whisper so quietly she doesn’t catch it.

“I’ll grab us a wind scroll. Or maybe that’s too strong? Surely there’s some spell that can dry off books.”

“You have no idea what you’ve just done for me, Alfira,” you blurt, already halfway to stuffing the journal into your pack. She blinks up at you with weary eyes, but you quickly clamber off the stool with no time to offer an explanation. “Let me know when the performance is. I’ll be here next week as usual.”

“Don’t you want me to dry off the pages?”

“No,” you shake your head, your heart pounding. “I need to show this to the others.”

She stares at you as if you’ve grown a second head. Still, as you rush toward the stairs leading to the city streets, she calls after you.

“Don’t forget to look at the lyrics!”

“Runes? As in the ones carved into Astarion’s back?”

“I thought they were random blots of ink, but,” you raise the notebook in your hands, and the soaked pages now show the contents of the following sheets, blending to form a larger image. The placement of the shapes were not random at all, and you internally apologize for calling Dalyria a few less-than-kind words in your mind. “They’re not. They’re parts of the runes that Cazador tried to use for the ritual. There are six sets of runes in here, and each one’s slightly altered.”

“But what purpose does that serve?” Shadowheart cocks a brow, eyeing the page questionably with crossed arms. “Cazador’s dead. There’s no ascension to be done.”

“Unfortunately, just because that haunting man is gone doesn’t mean the threat of an ascension is either.” Intrigued but clearly disturbed, Gale takes the notebook and squints at what it holds. “Cazador himself never needed to be the one to execute the ascension.”

The room goes silent, leaving an uncomfortable tension in the air that keeps you from moving. You’re not sure how many seconds pass before you hear the figure who’s been awfully quiet the past half an hour mutter something under his breath from the comfy armchair beside the fireplace.

Astarion clicks his tongue, seemingly unfazed. “Ah, I see.”

The fists at your side clench tighter. The bandages feel impossibly tight all of a sudden.

“It’s for the ascension, clearly. There’s no other plausible explanation,” his eyes remain glued to the flickering flames, swirling a chalice of wine in his hand. He doesn’t sip from it, knowing that it tastes of nothing but vinegar on his undead tongue, so why he’s poured himself a glass, you don’t understand. You also can’t be bothered to ask. “Perhaps they plan to enact it. Take a piece of all that power for themselves.”

“But they can’t do the ascension,” Shadowheart frowns, turning to you. “You said there’s only six runes in there. They don’t have the last one to enact the ascension because Astarion’s with us. Cazador’s the only one who could have done it because he’s the only one who knows what each of the runes looks like. Without Astarion’s, they can’t—”

“They wanted him,” you whisper the confession, and you swear your voice nearly cracks. “They wanted Astarion. That’s why they wanted to speak with me.”

All three of your companions whip their heads to you, and you stare down at the ground. Shame burns through you, and you can practically feel the disappointment radiating off them as it dawns on you that you lied to them. You lied to your closest companions for the sake of saving yourself the embarrassment that no matter what you do, no matter what you tell yourself, your subconscious forces you to care for the bloody vampire sitting beside the fireplace. Despite the many eyes on you, you can only feel one crimson pair that bore into you like the sun beating down on a hot summer’s day.

Even now, he’s your biggest concern, and you hate yourself for it.

“Then it’s not Astarion they need,” Gale says breathlessly. “They need the marks on his back.”

“And you didn’t tell us this, why?” Shadowheart hisses. “You said they just tried to kill you!”

You blurt. “They did! They said they’d stop killing citizens if I just tossed Astarion over to them, but when I said no, they completely flipped and–”

“You declined that deal?” Lae’zel snarls, and you unwillingly flinch at the venom in her tone. “You swore, istik. You swore you wouldn't be foolish if it came down to you or him.”

The words feel like a knife to your throat.

“Well, obviously, it worked out,” you grumble, ignoring how Lae’zel’s eyes are narrowed dangerously. No doubt, she has questions of her own that she’ll demand answers to later. “If I handed him over, they would’ve had the last key to conducting the ascension.”

“You still lied to us,” Shadowheart steps toward you, but Gale quickly clears his throat.

“I know how deceived we all feel, but must we fight? What matters is the spawns can’t conduct the ascension as of now, correct?” he attempts to calm her down, but her scowl only grows deeper. “As disappointed as we all are, we must admit that keeping Astarion here is the right decision.”

“You’re too hasty, wizard,” Lae’zel snaps. “A vampire’s ascension would mean ridding of all the other spawn wreaking havoc in the city. We mustn’t throw away a chance being offered without considering it.”

Shadowheart is immediately on her feet, her eyebrows furrowing. “Don’t be an idiot–a few thousand spawn is better than a nearly impenetrable being capable of creating even more spawn. That’s asking for just as bad as we are now–maybe even worse.”

They break into a simultaneous debate, one in which two room occupants do not take part. Because even as you try to focus on what the others are saying, all you can feel is the unsettling stare of the spawn in the corner of the room, his hand still swirling the wine. You wonder if his wrist ever gets tired. You refuse to give him the satisfaction of returning his stare, but you watch him from the corner of your eye as his attention shifts to your wrist.

“Are we even sure this is what they’re planning? Do a few drawings prove that they want to go through with this ritual, again, after what it nearly did to them?” Shadowheart’s attention darts to you. “This ritual would kill them. Why in the hells would all of them agree to do it if it only means one would come out alive?”

You open your mouth to respond, but nothing comes out in return. The hurt embedded into her expression is so glaringly apparent that it makes your chest squeeze uncomfortably, and all you can do is look away in shame. “...I don’t know.”

Her face hardens. “Do you? Or are you just lying to us again?”

Cheeks flaring, you shake your head. “I’m not lying, I swear it.”

Her eyes flicker with something you don’t recognize before they flit to your bandaged arm and then back to your eyes. She doesn’t miss how you try to move your arm behind you. A miscalculation on your part since your attempt at hiding it makes your secret that much more obvious. “Then what are those for? You’ve had them on since you returned from the Blushing Mermaid, and you refuse to let me heal you myself. Just what did you get injured from?”

The room is so silent you can hear your own heartbeat.

“I–” you stop, wavering. “There was a—”

Shadowheart clenches her jaw. “Don’t lie. Please.”

But still, no words are willing to leave your throat. 

Your companions await words from you that do not exist. Like a deer in headlights, you stand numbly, unsure what to do. Fortunately, and also unfortunately, before long, Lae’zel has had enough of waiting, and she begins to march toward you in a way that makes you step away.

“Give me your arm,” she demands. “If you cannot say, then show us.”

You can feel all the blood draining from your face as she draws closer. But even Gale cannot hinder her this time because everyone in the room knows what she’s capable of with that blade attached to her hip, and she’s not against wasting a few potions of healing if she has to barrel her way through. You brace yourself for the inevitable, teeth gritting together.

Just as she reaches for your arm, someone else snatches it away.

“I drank from them,” Astarion says as you bump slightly into his chest, eyes wide at his pale fingers wrapped around your wrist. He yanks the edge of the bandage down with his free hand and lifts it for the others to see. The two puncture wounds, where the skin that surrounds it is darker than the rest, make you feel naked under the eyes of others. It’s too vulnerable. Too mortifying.

Your heart hammers pathetically, and whether it’s from the expressions of your companions or the hand wrapped around the sensitive skin of your wrist, you’re not sure. You hope it’s not the latter.

Gale’s jaw drops. “We agreed that this was the one thing you wouldn’t do.” 

“If I hadn’t, I would’ve perished,” the vampire retorts in response, releasing his hold on your arm as it falls back to your side. The place where his hand had been tinges under your skin. “And there weren’t exactly a few boars lying around the damn city for me to feed on.”

You notice he fails to mention there had been more than enough bodies to satiate him, but you keep your mouth shut.

The hurt on Shadowheart’s face is no longer one that throbs your sympathy. Instead, she seems to burn with something you haven’t seen in ages.

Anger.

Her palm flickers with radiant light, and Astarion immediately flinches, hissing as he moves to hide his body behind yours. In your haste, you can’t think of anything to do besides stepping toward her, holding out your hands. Astarion releases a strained laugh from behind you. “Now, Shadowheart, let’s not do anything hilarious, shall we?”

“I’ll kill you,” she growls maliciously, the glow of her palm growing brighter. “Like I should have done the second you came back to ruin everything we’ve done without you.”

You cautiously approach her, focus never leaving her eyes despite the danger festering in her hands. “You shouldn’t, Shadowheart.”

She throws daggers in your direction with just her expression, and you can’t deny how helpless you feel. “Killing him would end all of this. If we buried him somewhere, they’d never find the runes. They’d never be able to follow through with the ascension, and we won’t have to deal with his pompous ass anymore.”

You hate that she’s right. You hate that even though she’s right, you can’t agree with her methods.

“I know he’s—not exactly a friend—but he was once. And I know you considered him one as well,” you insist, inching closer. The hesitance in her motions as you come too close to the radiant light is undeniable. “I don’t want you to bear the guilt of his death.”

Because as much as you’re wrapped up in a world of your own–a world where you fight to hate the man behind you–you know that your companions feel the same way. The sentiments gathered from months of sharing the same camp, months of saving one another from multiple deaths, and months of aiding one another overcome their own pasts don’t just disappear. You know what they shared. Being the most similar amongst your companions, forced under the influence of a power they did not want to be subjected to, you know they considered themselves friends, even if they never voiced it out loud.

You know that deep down, Shadowheart’s hatred for Astarion stems from her own feeling of betrayal when he tried to kill you. When he attempted to harm the only other person who guided her to a path outside of Shar.

“Trust me, I won’t feel guilty,” she finally forces out. “You’re a fool to trust him again.”

“I don’t trust him,” you reassure her, your hands finally reaching hers as they dim and eventually vanish all traces of magic. “But if he’s to die for nearly killing me, I want it to be under my hands. Don’t sully your own for my sake when you’ve just escaped all the bloodshed.”

Shadowheart’s brows soften, but her face turns cold. Thoughts seem to run through her mind like an endless train before she decides that thinking through each one is worth more than Astarion himself is worth. She inhales deeply and nods, allowing you to finally release her hands. She shoots the others one last glance before turning to retreat upstairs.

You’re left in a pitiful silence—one that nobody in the room dares to break.

An entire day is spent with you wallowing in your shame, refusing to get out of bed.

You hope this is just a terrible nightmare, but you know better. If this were a nightmare, you’d already be dead.

You only climb out of your covers when you have to change the bandages on your wrist. It’s a painful process now since you don’t even want to look at the puncture wounds anymore, but it’s better than risking it to get infected. A knock on your door makes you stand from your bed, kicking the bandage rolls under your bed. “It’s open.”

You expect Gale or even Lae’zel, but you’re met with piercing red eyes. You contemplate begging him to leave you alone because looking at him right now only conjures up the guilt that’s been eating away at you for hours now. Instead, you build that wall between the two of you again, your face hardening. “What do you want?”

He’s never come to you willingly before. Not unless you were positively drenched in blood, and he had no choice but to follow his instincts for what he hopes to be a meal other than stale boar blood. Much less approached you in your own room.

Astarion lifts the empty glass bottle in his hand. “A charming welcome, as usual, I see.”

“You just had a full supply yesterday,” you say, brows furrowing. “I checked it myself.”

“Clearly, now I don’t,” he shrugs, and when you shoot him an intense glare, he frowns. “You can’t possibly blame me. I haven’t exerted myself as I did at that dirty tavern since the last time I had that damn parasite swimming around my head. So, unless you decide to offer yourself to me, again…”

You think he’s genuinely lost his mind. “Right now? Seriously? After what just happened yesterday, you want to ask me for blood?”

“Just a suggestion, darling. Otherwise, we always have the other option, as boring as it is.”

Perhaps you should just toss him to Lae’zel and call it a day.

Groaning in exasperation, you march past him, slapping a cloak into his chest. “There’s 15 minutes to sunset.”

He laughs, but it only makes your face turn sour.

The forest isn’t far off from the main square of Rivington. And by the time you reach it, the sun has long gone down, and you watch as Astarion takes off the hood of his cloak, breathing deeply in the moon's bask. And as he glances back at you, you don’t bother trying to walk side by side, remaining on guard and surveying his every move from three steps behind. He comments on it even though you think he doesn’t care for what you do. “I don’t bite, you know.”

“You’re not funny.” He snorts at your deadpan and continues into the deeper parts of the forest.

The entire time, your eyes remained glued to the backs of his heels, palms growing increasingly clammy as you become surrounded by nothing but the soft ambiance of the woods. His steps are as silent as they’ve always been, and it feels like following a ghost into the darkest parts of the forest. It’s becoming hard to see more than a few feet in front of you, and if your training with Lae’zel has taught you anything, you know that you don’t want to be at a disadvantage—especially when the other party is a bloody vampire.

You halt in your tracks. He does, too, turning to shoot you a questioning look. “What is it?”

“It’s too hard to see. We need to turn back.”

“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of a little bit of darkness.”

You scrunch your nose at this, and he merely grins. Before you can say anything, he’s back to pacing across the dirt without a care in the world—almost too fast for your liking. “Will you at least slow down?”

“Shall I hold your hand?”

“I’d rather cut it off.”

“A pity.”

You curse his long legs as the forest becomes darker and darker, even as each time you think it can’t possibly get worse than this. You swear his steps become quicker, and a part of you wonders if this is where he attempts to run away and whether you should cast a sleep spell before he succeeds. But the most rational part of you reminds yourself that he’s had plenty of chances to escape. Hells, he could do it even now, considering how much more easily his eyes adjust to the darkness than you.

“Astarion, I swear to the Gods above, if you don’t stop walking so quickly…”

This time, you don’t get an answer.

Suspicions rising, you break into a jog and then into a gradual sprint. Every time you think you finally caught up to him, a branch whips into your face, and you barely manage to swat it away before it manages to cut your skin. You call his name a few times to no avail, and you genuinely begin to ponder if you should’ve brought your scroll for daylight.

Finally, you stumble through a tall berry bush into what you assume to be another branch.

And rather than more darkness, you’re met with a clearing. It’s only a few long strides in width and a couple more in length, but here, it doesn’t seem like nighttime at all. The moon peers down at you in all its glory, and you think this might’ve been Selune’s pocket of the forest if she were here. You blink wide when a speck of light—a firefly—flies barely past your face. And suddenly, you’re surrounded by light rising from the green grass beneath you in fragile wings. 

The tightness in your chest dissipates, if only for a moment.

Only once you’ve taken in the vast difference of your surroundings just a few moments prior do you see Astarion pulling off the clasp of his cloak. He tosses it to you, and it lands on your face before you yank it away with a scowl. “You could have just handed it to me–”

“Stay here,” he says. “I’ll return when I’ve finished hunting.”

You gawk at him. “I’m not going to let you just leave.”

“I’ve proven myself plenty,” he scoffs. “If I remember correctly, you would’ve likely perished were I not there at that tavern a few days ago. And I must remind you that I do have quite the memory. If I planned on betraying you, I would’ve done it then—at a more fashionable time.”

You don’t have much of a rebuttal to that.

While you could bring up the dozens of other times he’s made questionable decisions pertaining to his loyalty, the soothing bath under the moon’s gaze seems to calm you down. So, instead of fighting the internal urge to continue your petty quips, you drop the cloak beneath you. He cocks a brow, surely expecting more of a protest, but you just swallow your pride, plopping down on the grass with a huff. “If you don’t return in 30 minutes, I’m coming to find you.”

“40 minutes,” he tries. “30 minutes isn’t nearly enough time for anything fun.”

You scowl. “20 minutes.”

Astarion smiles wickedly just enough for his fangs to peek beneath his top lip. “Very well. I’ll expect you no later than that.”

And like a predator fading into his natural environment, he vanishes into the darkness.

Time passes slowly when all you can do is pick at pieces of grass. As beautiful as the clearing is, it’s a bit too soothing—enough to make you doze off as you lean against the trunk of a tree. Though you attempt to keep your eyes open, reminding yourself you have a responsibility to uphold, you haven’t had this sense of relaxation in ages. Especially now, in your home with an atmosphere thicker than the butter you use on your bread. It’s almost like a spell as you feel your heavy eyelids droop helplessly.

You pray you don’t dream tonight. Not when you know all you’ll think of is the betrayal you inflicted on your companions.

A rustle of leaves snaps you back awake.

And when you look up, you see two blood-red eyes staring down at you from the branches of the tree opposite of yours.

They look exactly like the spawn in the alleyway, practically a month ago now. The same ones that haunt your nightmares and the same ones that morph into your ex-lover in the ones you despise the most. And while you can’t see their face, you don’t need much more than that to break into action.

Immediately, you’re snatching the cloak and sprinting back into the forest's darkness. You don’t care about the branches flinging themselves at you anymore because you can barely breathe even without worrying about them. Twigs and thin branches flail across your cheeks as you practically barrel through the woods, your legs feeling like they could give up if you were ever to stop running. With only the cloak in one hand and a dagger in the other, you don’t even attempt to fight whoever this person is upfront–you learned your lesson well the last time you tried. So, instead, your boots crunch against whatever plants are being crushed beneath you as you frantically run from the creature chasing you.

The worst part is you can still hear leaves rustling behind you.

Your lungs hurt. Your head hurts. Everything hurts, and yet you cannot stop. You hope the forest itself swallows you whole at this point, especially as you hear the movements getting closer and closer.

Tripping over a particularly large root, you fall through a bush, bracing for impact as you curse everyone you can think of for your luck. But rather than your shoulder crashing into a pile of dirt and twigs, you plant face-first into what feels like…cloth?

“Eager little thing, aren’t you? If you wanted to touch me, you could have just asked,” Astarion teases and you instantly tear yourself away, pushing your palms against his chest with wide eyes. And as much as you hate to admit it, a flood of relief hits you. And as much as it shouldn’t, meeting his gaze makes you able to breathe again.

Gods, what is wrong with you?

“There’s something chasing me,” you say hurriedly, pointing in the direction behind you. “I think it’s another spawn, I saw his eyes–”

His face stills when you practically jump at the bushes moving in ways the wind cannot will it to. Your arm flies to push him in front of you in case something were to leap out, and while you’re sure he’d complain dramatically about this gesture on any other occasion, he’s too busy worrying about what lies behind the bush. His hand shoots to what you assume to be that blasted comb he takes everywhere while you grip your knife, and you hear both your breaths hitch when something lunges out of the shrub.

It’s a small, puny squirrel.

Astarion doesn’t even try to stifle the laugh that escapes him as he throws his head back.

“I swear there was something following me!” you hiss, slapping his arm while the squirrel scurries away back to wherever it came from. He doesn’t stop, having little care about how your face flushes with embarrassment, and instead seems to revel in it. The bastard is enjoying this.

You wish you could throw the damn squirrel at his head.

“Oh, yes, I do believe there was,” he’s barely fazed while you continue glaring daggers at him. “I’m impressed you survived an encounter with such a terrifying foe, my dear.”

“It was definitely following me...” your voice trails off, and the bloodlust that had overwhelmed your lungs is fading away, leaving nothing but the sound of Astarion and his annoyingly loud laughter. 

He stops when there’s a shrill scream from across the forest. One that wails in what is unmistakenly of excruciating pain.

The two of you slowly turn to one another, and a knowing gleam flashes behind his eyes.

“Darling, the smart decision here would be to leave–”

But you’re already rushing toward whoever this victim is, forcing him to groan loudly and trail after you, snatching up your cloak from the ground in the process. You feel him close behind as you practically fly through the forest, with little care of how exhausted you were just moments before as the screams of pain seem to fuel your determination to lend aid. 

Astarion, although displeased, only grumbles as he continues to follow your lead. “Is it necessary to be heroic now of all times? In a dark forest where there’s sure to be animals twice our size?”

You ignore him.

A leaf slaps into your face as you finally reach what’s now been reduced to soft sobs. And you’re not sure what you were expecting, but it certainly wasn’t someone you knew.

“Berry?” you blink at the small girl, who you’re sure can barely even see you with how teary her eyes are. She watches you wearily before she gasps in recognition, and it’s then that you realize that her arm is bleeding.

“Tav!”

“You’re hurt,” you’re kneeling beside her in an instant, assessing her wounds as you reach to dig around your pockets in hopes of any medical supplies you might’ve left in there. “Did something attack you?”

“Yes,” she winces as you lift her arm to inspect it closer. “I’m not sure what it was, but it came out of nowhere, and they—-they tried to bite me.”

A lump forms in your throat. As twisted as it is, you're relieved you weren't actually imagining what you saw earlier. “Did you see if they had fangs? Did they look like a regular person?”

“I think so,” she replies in a hushed voice, wiping her tears. “I was so scared. I didn’t know what to do when it–”

A hand grabs her by the back of her cloak, yanking her in the air with her legs dangling helplessly as Astarion holds her just high enough to render attempts to kick at him useless. “I’d normally entertain tasteless tricks like this, but I’m in a less than forgiving mood, I’m afraid. You’ve cut into the time I have to fill my own stomach.”

You gasp, jumping to your feet. “Astarion, what the actual hells are you doing?”

“Trust me, you’ll thank me later, darling,” he sneers at the girl, hissing at him aimlessly. “Show them, you little imp.”

Having no idea what’s going on, you decide the best thing to do is de-escalate whatever misunderstanding he’s had about the poor girl tied to his hand. “You’ll hurt her. Just let her go and explain what’s going on.”

“Show them,” he pronounces each word harshly, glaring at Berry. 

And finally, she tries to bite at his hand. This prompts her to unhinge her jaw just enough for you to see the glint of sharp teeth. Ones that do not certainly belong to an innocent orphan.

Were you always this unlucky, or was the past month just a living hell for you?

“See what I mean? You can offer your thanks to me later, darling,” Astarion smiles proudly, and if you knew him any less than you did, you’d think he’s psychotic for smiling like that in this situation. But then, again, maybe he is. “How you seem to attract so many of us is beyond me, but I believe we should refrain from keeping this one alive.”

Your jaw drops. As much as you feel appalled that the innocent girl you’ve been soothing over the death of her adoptive father for the past few weeks turned out to be one of the very creatures that nearly took your life (on multiple occasions), you can’t fathom the idea of just ridding of her. She’s still a kid—at least, to the naked eye. “Are you insane? No, we’re not killing her!”

“Gods, please don’t tell me you’ll try and make this brat see sense. She’s practically feral! Look at her!” he grits through his teeth, waving his free hand to the girl in question, who’s too busy trying to snap her teeth at him. “This thing doesn’t deserve your sympathy right now.”

Berry manages to catch the tip of his finger in her teeth, and Astarion lets out a string of curses as he drops her to the dirt. It doesn’t even take another second for her to lunge toward you, fangs bared and claws ready to sink into your flesh. You barely manage to swerve out of the way, her sharp nail grazing past your cheek.

“Berry, just listen to me! I don’t want to hurt you!” you practically yell, but she only stumbles on the ground a moment before rushing at you again. You reach for your dagger, fearing you may have to use it on a child until she’s snatched into the air again.

This time, Astarion hangs her by the cloak onto a tree branch, where she screams and grasps at the air, practically throwing a tantrum.

You gawk in utter disbelief; too many things are happening simultaneously.

And Astarion doesn’t help as he slips out the damn comb again, grinning from ear to ear. You notice that this time, he seems to have taken the time to sharpen the tips of the teeth, which nearly look akin to a row of needles. 

He holds the comb in Berry’s direction. “Well? Shall I do the honors?”

As you watch him threaten a child who also happens to be a vampire, you ponder that maybe you should have just handed him over to Dalyria when you had the chance.

Tags:@ayselluna@littleenglishfangirl@bg3obsessedsideblog@iwillpissyourpants@cyberpr1m3@ukeia-uchiha@snowlotr@road-riot@spacekidnova@madislayyy@lordfishflakes@nicalysm@djarinsway@tinystarfishgalaxy@brainz00@hopeful-n-sad@ohdeerieme@madisban@chrismarium@chonkercatto@fanfic-share@bitterrenegade@sleepyred1703@miskouly@ravenswritingroom@iamlowkeycrying@deezus-roy@spiritraves@mariposakitten @dinobae-replyacc@whisperingwillowxox@bdudette@misscrissfemmefatale @atropapurpurea @cosywinterevenings @phoenixgurl030 @generalstephkenobi @shadowsmusical @himesuedi @girlygmer-blog @vulgarfuckinvirgo77 @deezus-roy @hyperfixationwhore @teardropcup @marina-and-the-memes @kiwi-mansanas @woosaaghh @cminr @everybodystaycalm @divineknightmare @bangtanbecks @carolinelec @bitterbeanren @aelieknox Please let me know if I didn't add you to the list or if you'd like to be added! I needed to redo the entire taglist because it wasn't functioning, so please let me know if I missed you :)

[bluemerakis]

POV: BTS instagram posts of The Boys cast

A/n: Because I love Karl, I biased it toward a reader that’s his romantic partner and therefore the first reader’s posts is mostly BTS pics of him. Also, the little forehead peaking through on one of his insta posts is a reader insert. Honestly, have fun with this post and imagine you’re anybody’s partner lmfao (or don’t, free will bitches (lovingly)) Enjoy! PS. To my featured moots, I hope you like your cameos lmfao

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Liked by karlurban, theboystv and others

yourusername uh oh, they let me on set 😈📸

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karlurban 3d ♥︎ by author

somebody’s got a favourite character 😎🍻❤️

yourusername @/karlurban well yes! 🥰

jensenackles 3d ♥︎ by author

go away

yourusername @/jensenackles stfu fossil you’re spitting ashes from the 1900s 🗣️

gibson-g1rl 3d ♥︎ by author @/yourusername BYE he’s probably carrying remnants of the plague too

theboysgirl4 @/jensenackles they ate you up I fear 😭😭😭😭

theboystv 3d ♥︎ by author

we got a leak 🫣

yourusername @/theboystv you only have yourself to blame

randomuser203 @/theboystv YOUR HONOUR THEY’RE INNOCENT

babyfri3dric3 did you manage to get a BTS of the shower scene by any chance? Asking for the people of course (I am people)

karlsdirtysock19 @/babyfri3dric3 oh you’re so real for that 😭😭😭

theb0ysfanp4ge @/babyfri3dric3 can you imagine? 🤤

butchersb1tchhh WE NEED MORE, KEEP US FED SIS 🔥🔥🔥

feral4karlurban this post is making me weak in my creaky knees

user20381779037 omg what organ do I have to sell to be on set with the boys 😭😭😭

da1lyd1lfs @/user20381779037 LMFAO suddenly I have the black market on speed dial

homelanderth3homewrecker ok now invite us the fans PLEASE we beg 🙏 🙏

fukuharastangirl how to apply for the fifth picture’s position?

heyimyourdream_ @/fukuharastangirl girl if you find out pls let us know

funsideofd1lfss @/heyimyourdream decreasing the unemployment statistics one day at a time 🙏

karlurbanupdates1 Karl being covered in blood and posing with a smile is the most karl thing to do

butcherscadillacprin3ss @/karlurbanupdates1 sorry chat he just finished eating me out (I’m ovulating)

fernanda010 @/butcherscadillacprin3ss that’s a crazy thing to say on his partner’s post

hannahwithoutthemontana @/fernanda010 right!!

sahra1937love I love this! 😍 please post more pictures!

jillstalks1002 I had no idea karl was so strong 😳😳 that second pic!

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Liked by yourusername, jack_quaid and others

karlurban man, what a goodie ! 🔥 if y’all thought s4 was one heck of a ride , wait until you see what @/theboystv & @/primevideo have got in store for s5… love these fellas a ton ! Biggest thank you to my lover for taking care of me throughout filming and taking all the countless trips alongside me @/yourusername you’re a doll and I love you ❤️ . @/jeffreydeanmorgan has been a pleasure to work with so closely in this last season , can’t count the amount of retakes that had to be done after a fit of laughter . Love you brother , cheers ! 😎🍻 . And I love the rest of the cast and can’t wait to get back at it . See you soon , folks ! 👀🙏

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yourusername beautiful set of people ❤️ can’t believe my forehead made the cut

karlurban was hard to exclude it , took up the whole darn frame 😂

yourusername @/karlurban there’s a blanket and pillow on the couch x

jensenackles @/yourusername at least now you’ve got the whole bed to yourself and your forehead. Does that count as sleeping with someone?

yourusername @/jensenackles STOP IT 😭😭😭 @/gibson-g1rl come fetch your flea-bitten stray

gibson-g1rl @/yourusername sorry I left the gate open

jeffreydeanmorgan brother… it’s been a darn pleasure working alongside you. man.. what I’d give to relive that shit all over again. can’t wait to see what season 5 has got going for us. love ya xxxxx

karlurban @/jeffreydeanmorgan love you! ❤️

jensenackles @/jeffreydeanmorgan @/karlurban ship

deans__winchesterrg1rl @/jensenackles PLEASE 😭😭

seigeth3soldier yo when did soldier boy get the modern day humour update?

erinelairmoriarty cunt

erinelairmoriarty @/erinelairmoriarty -y with the depth and the warmth

jack_quaid @/erinelairmoriarty I see what you did there

iheartkimik0 @/erinelairmoriarty pls she’s funny 😭😭

starlighter4lyf @/erinelairmoriarty hello icon queen pls notice me

jensenackles thanks for the weed

Sallyheartsyou23 @/jensenackles this man is so unserious I love him 😭😭😭 his gf is so lucky

winchesterangel555 @/jensenackles so this is what dean becomes

theboystv who knows where the road leads 👀🔥

pizzza_hotelonmain3 @/theboystv WHAT ARENT YOU TELLING US

passenger.princesss08 @/pizzza_hotelonmain3 fr this comment made me so scared for season 5 now…

primevideo @/theboystv 👀👀👀

bless08jings @/theboystv @/primevideo y’all are just being mean now

lawingsterMaster9 @/bless08jings Using their social media powers for evil lmao

jameslenoa__ @/bless08jings when I find who runs the accounts… it’s over for everybody

jack_quaid still need your canary?

theboystv @/jack_quaid he’s asking the right question

ccertifiedplayb0y @/theboystv YALL NEEDA STOP

larkssong409 the fourth pic 🥹

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Liked by theboystv, jaredpadalecki, gibson-g1rl and others

jensenackles Damn… that time again, already? What the hell is Soldier Boy going to get up to in Season 5 of @/theboystv… 👀

Enjoy a collection of what The Boys have been getting up to behind the curtains.

Stay tuned, folks! Here we go!

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gibson-g1rl 1d ♥︎ by author

omg who’s that handsome guy in the second last pic 😫

jensenackles @/gibson-g1rl don’t know his name but he looks like a Bertram

gibson-g1rl @/jensenackles you weren’t supposed to know I was talking about the dog 🙄

yourusername yummers granny lover is back 😍🔥

jensenackles @/yourusername uh oh galaxy forehead is back

yourusername @/jensenackles die

jensenackles @/yourusername apparently I can’t

gibson-g1rl @/jensenackles main character syndrome core 🙄

jeffreydeanmorgan gon be a goodie! xx

karenfukuhara I like your smoulder 🤨

gibson-g1rl @/karenfukuhara Dwayne Johnson would be proud

jaredpadalecki looks so fun! 😊

jensenackles @/jaredpadalecki brothaaaaa

porscialady001 @/jensenackles @/jaredpadalecki omg we need y’all to reunite on this show

samslady_winchestor_ @/porscialady001 I saw a TikTok where Jared confirmed he’ll be on season 5! 😭😭 I hope it’s for real

porscialady001 @/samslady_winchestor_ omg WHAT? girl I hope so

karlurban 😎😎

erinelairmortiarty soulja boy tell em 🗣️🗣️

acklesbabygirl I need him so bad y’all I can’t

deanwinchester.spngirl @/acklesbabygirl sigh me core but I could never compete with his goddess gf 😔

kimmylean2947 @/deanwinchester.spngirl y’all glazing her so hard, she’s mid 😂

deanwinchester.spngirl @/kimmylean2947 I’m sorry you literally look like the first scrapped draft of the homunculus LMFAO??? Let’s stay humble

neeracollins87 @/kimmylean2947 acting like you saying this gives you a chance with jensen girl pls your behaviour isn’t cute, check yourself

acklesbabygirl @/deanwinchester.spngirl LMFAO she made her acc private 😭😭😭

deanwinchester.spngirl thank god, saving the retinas of earth one person at a time

random.fangirl.updates. Omg 😍😍 wish I was the fan in the first pic

juliefoula182839 Jensen screaming in the 7th pic 😭😭😭 he’s so cute pls

jensenjacklescore oh how I wish I was that dog

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Liked by theboystv, karlurban and others

jeffreydeanmorgan Hell… it’s been a ride. Being Joe Kessler has been interesting to say the least. Fella’s got a thing for trouble… makes for a dangerous butcher-kessler duo! Love Karl a lot, had an awesome time filming with this guy @/karlurban xxxx it’s been a darn pleasure. And thanks a ton to @/erickripke1 for letting me become part of this awesome team. The crew are freakin amazing. See y’all soon. Better hold your horses for season 5.

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jensenackles 2d ♥︎ by author

Dad

jensenackles @/jensenackles who said that

thewalkingdead 2d ♥︎ by author

so this is what Negan’s been doing in his free time

karlurban 2d ♥︎ by author

unstoppable pair !

yourusername 2d ♥︎ by author

amazing work as always, Jeff! ❤️

theboystv 2d ♥︎ by author

you’ve been a blessing to the team, Jeffrey! 🤩❤️

jeffreydeanmorgan @/theboystv aw shucks… making me a tad bit weepy behind the screen. Love you guys xxx you are all awesome 😘

timotheethemoat bro thinks he’s Negan

kepsoapp1 @/timotheethemoat fr he’s always doing that lean back + laugh combo 😭 so Negan-coded

laiswqau06 @/timotheethemoat uhm maybe because he IS Negan 🤨🤨🤨

timotheethemoat @/laiswqau06 wow, I had no idea! 😱😱

jaredpadalecki ❤️

kirshnipowler jdm is so hot 😳🥵🥵

negansrealwife @/kirshnipowler he’s still got it 🤭

hiimthereallucille I didn’t think he could get any hotter… and his acting this season was phenomenal 🫣 thank you the boys for bringing jdm into this universe!

justifythat0pinion love the pic of jdm and Karl laughing together 🫠 they’re so cutie patootie

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Liked by erinelairmoriarty, karlurban and others

jack_quaid ❤️ HOLY HELL I’m not ready for this crazy ride to come to an end. Never would I have thought that Hughie would become such a pivotal character in this crazy, effed up show… and furthermore, I’m blown away by the endless amounts of love that I’ve received bringing this character to the screen. Thanks to all of you who make this show so special! Let’s go out with a bang. #Season5

PS. Peep the Hughie Funko Pop! 🔥 (I lost it)

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erinelairmortiarty 2d ♥︎ by author

your honour, he needs to go on a diet — he’s devouring!

karenfukuhara 2d ♥︎ by author

missed you ❤️❤️❤️

karlurban 2d ♥︎ by author

oi, hughie 😎🍻

yourusername 2d ♥︎ by author

I stole your Funko Pop

jensenackles @/yourusername of course you did ♥︎ by author

theboystv going out with a bang indeed 🔥

hayleystyless @/theboystv y’all just love edging the fans at this point huh

jessicaheynes104 @/hayleystyless FOR REAL good god THE SUSPENSE IS KILLING ME

hughiecampbelllover_ give my boy hughie a happy ending!! My man has suffered enough

jhistinemkeel @/hughiecampbelllover_ I swear if he doesn’t get a happy ending I’m rioting!!

hughiecampbelllover_ @/jhistinemkeel 😤😤😤

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Liked by chacecrawford, karenfukuhara, yourusername and others

erinelairmoriarty who are all these baddies? My family for 5 years and counting. Let’s make Season 5 a season to remember! Well sh*t, I’m excited (and scared) but at least my skin’s clear (thanks @/indeedlabs 😘)

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karenfukuhara 2d ♥︎ by author

omg we’re cute actually

erinelairmoriarty @/karenfukuhara duh! 😉

yourusername @/karenfukuhara she ain’t stuttered 🗣️ ♥︎ by author

chacecrawford 2d ♥︎ by author

2# could’ve been us but you went and got me cancelled

erinelairmoriarty @/chacecrawford boy bye

yourusername @/chacecrawford damn the deep just got deep

randomuser9274848 @/yourusername HAHAHA

jack_quaid 2d ♥︎ by author

🍭 okay, but I did the Pops pose better!

erinelairmoriarty @/jack_quaid you did kinda slay that

anniesl0ver__ @/jack_quaid @/miekalieka0 pls they’re so cute I love them

indeedlabs 2d ♥︎ by author

clear skin queen 👸

erinelairmortiarty @/indeedlabs mwah! 🥰

theboystv 2d ♥︎ by author

✨✨ 👀

yourusername 2d ♥︎ by author

Karl looking a little too butchered as Butcher in that second last pic 😭

erinelairmortiarty @/yourusername poor old man needs a nap of the century

karlsno1fangirl @/yourusername Cmon he’s been going through the most that season, give him a break 😭😭💔💔

Comments on this post have been limited.

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Liked by karlurban, chacecrawford and others

toni.starr I nailed that 🏃 pose didn’t I? This old man’s still got it!

A few snaps of behind the scenes with my fellow cast members :)

Have a great day out there! Season 5 is in the works ;)

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jensenackles John, I am your father

theboystv you ready? 🤩

karlurban oi, ‘omelander ….

cameroncrovetti 😎

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lazofficial Solid life advice—don’t go to no party with -gasm in the name. Anyways, the boys is back. Let’s go!! #Season5 #theboystv #letsgo

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theboystv s5 let’s go! 💥

karlurban cheers to my partner ! saving ass time and time again 😎🍻

lazofficial @/karlurban Got your idiotic back, ma brother!

erinelairmoriarty buy a bad b*tch a free coffee 🗣️

lazofficial @/erinelairmoriarty nah I’m good

erinelairmortiarty @/lazofficial ugh you’re not living up to the mother in mother’s milk

yourusername @/erinelairmoriarty pls he can barely be a father either, took the milk in his name too literal and went absentee father

erinelairmoriarty omg y/n you didn’t 😭😭😭😭😭

lazofficial @/yourusername now thas just cold - you ain’t getting free coffee no more either. 😂

yourusername the brains behind the operations 😎 welcome back ❤️

lazofficial @/yourusername hell yeah I know that’s right

jensenackles it be your own girl that betrays you @/yourusername @/karlurban you going to let her talk smack like that?

yourusername @/jensenackles you remembered you have instagram and now suddenly you’re an ambassador? GET A LIFE and gtfo out these instagram comments 😭😭😭

karenfukuhara whoop! 🥳

jack_quaid 👯‍♂️ 7th pic stance goes hard

lazofficial @/jack_quaid Better moves than you!

dustin__103 yo they gave m.m all that milk in the 5th pic, only it wasn’t from his mother 😭🙏

unbrokeeeenpromises im so excited for this!! M.M deserves his happy ending…

holymolywhosaidthat M.M the goat 🙏🔥

benstenstands @/holymolywhosaidthat Nah butcher better

holymolywhosaidthat @/benstenstands They both badass

mmfanpagetheboys 🤩🤩🤩🤩 so so excited!

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Liked by yourusername, erinelairmoriarty and others

karenfukuhara my peoples ❤️ been a crazy couple of years on the set of The Boys and in honour of the last upcoming season, I thought I’d post a few pics of the friends who’ve become like my family. Grateful to play such an awesome character like Kimiko and even MORE grateful for my film family. There’s been some stressful days since entering such a big project, but I’m thankful that they’ve always been my biggest supporters, checking up on me and always making sure I’ve got somebody to turn to for help. I hope everybody has got someone so beautiful to back their corner. Ok, I’m done being cheesy - for now. Season 5, let’s go!!

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erinelairmoriarty 3d ♥︎ by author

my blood adorned queen ❤️ so much love!

jack_quaid 3d ♥︎ by author

Hell yeah!🖖🏻❤️ to many more fun days!

yourusername 3d ♥︎ by author

been amazing watching you grow into the role 🥹❤️

karlurban 3d ♥︎ by author

Stinkin’ supe 😎❤️

toni.starr @/karlurban at least Kimiko washes her hands after a piss • 3d ♥︎ by author

randomuser10482 @toni.starr BYE homie ate him up 😭😭😭😭😭

saramary1038 @/toni.starr smelling butcher across the freaking city 😭😭😭

tomercapone 3d ♥︎ by author

mon coeur ❤️

jensenackles 3d ♥︎ by author

get it 🤟👅

lazofficial 3d ♥︎ by author

got your back, girl! 😈🥛

kimistangirllllll your smile!!!!

i.lovetheboys_. is she eating stormfront in the third pic? 🤣

leabeanstalk2948 @/i.lovetheboys_. personally I would’ve waited until she was a bit charred around the edges

i.lovetheboys_. @/leabeanstalk2948 EXCUSE ME?? 😭💔

jacksawmejensen @/leabeanstalk2948 oh that’s cold 😭😭😭😭 (as you should bc f stormfront)

kiaramallory_0 @/i.lovetheboys_. yum I love the taste of aged racism and white supremacy 😍

koappletree991 such a precious group of people ❤️

randomfangirlacc0 omg the holy trinity of Karen, Erin and Claudia 😩

paulamaloua20 @/randomfangirlacc0 and suddenly I want to be adopted specifically by 3 mothers and specifically them 3

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Liked by karlurban, jensenackles and others

yourusername The Boys and their bitches 🐶 (sorry fans)

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gibson-g1rl 2d ♥︎ by author

I CAN BARK grrr WOOF WOOF (at jensen)

jensenackles @/gibson-g1rl girl

yourusername @/gibson-g1rl girl x2 don’t make us fetch the rabies shots 😭

jacklesworld @/yourusername LMFAO

jensenackles @/yourusername I’ll get the muzzle

gibson-g1rl @/jensenackles URH yes please

karenfukuhara 1d ♥︎ by author

cute!!

justjensen101 hey (I breed high-end police dogs)

internetmasterp3ice @justjensen101 and I photograph people (hot celebrities) with their dogs

karlsl0verr193 does anybody know how to get hold of that Japanese man who built the lifelike dog suit?

yeakarlsminel0l @/karlsl0verr193 LMFAO 😭

randomuser29485829 @/karlsl0verr193 I think you’re onto something

karlsb4by im leash-trained

randonfangirl4729 OMG HOMELANDER AND THE PUPPY??? 😭❤️ my heart!

violent-darkness thank god for Karl’s thicker beard over the years 😭

startrekparadiseon3arth @/violent-darkness preach!

JosephineEmrite6 Right?! His beard is everything 😍😍😍

antonyfanpages_tm All right, where do I sign up to sit with antony and puppies!??

h0wardslife2993 starlight looking both confused and concerned in the background for the dog homelander’s touching 😂😂

homelanderlover299 @/h0wardslife2993 no bc why was he holding the dog’s tail like that ? 😭😭

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Thank you for reading! I really just had fun with this one and for some reason made Jensen such a diva in this 😭 Anyways—all likes, comments & reblogs are deeply appreciated.

Tags: @babyfri3dric3 @violent-darkness @gibson-g1rl @scrmqwn

Comment/message me to be added/removed from the taglist for any future The Boys smaus & other works!

Other works: The Boys Masterlist

[foreverromanticising]

something, somehow, someday

1.9k words of idiots in love

lando norris x f!reader

(this is kind of rllly bad bc i need to get back into fanfic writing - im a veteran but its been a while! requests open pls send whatever!)

Friday nights always followed the same routine for Lando, he was playing chaueffer. Well, the Friday nights he had off from being Lando Norris Formula 1 Driver. More often than not, he found himself driving around Monaco, playing pick up from different bars with his girl and her friends. 

Calling her ‘his girl’ was loosely strung, she wasn’t his girlfriend by any means, but simply calling her a friend seemed unjust. It didn’t pay any justice to their connection; best friends also seemed far too juvenile for they never knew each other in their childhood years, when the term best friend perhaps would’ve suited them. 

No, they met much later in their lives, Lando’s second or third season in Formula 1, and she just happened to know a friend of a friend, which ended in the two at the same party at the same time. Typical and cliche, they knew it, but they both preferred having an organic story to tell of their meeting rather than having to admit their connection was found on some online algorithm. 

However, it wasn’t that many people asked for their meeting story as they were just friends, plain and simple - asking two friends how they met didn’t hold the same importance as it did for asking a couple. 

Yes, they were friends, if their relationship had to be labelled but in a sweet and sticky sense of friendship. They weren’t friends in the way Max and Lando were friends; a relationship consisting of streaming, gaming, and very platonic activities that would be expected of two friends. Their friendship was abnormal to outsiders but it made perfect sense for them, and why should they listen to anyone else’s opinions?

Lando never found himself waking up with any of his other friends head’s on his bare chest, but with his girl it made perfect sense. The Monaco sun peering through the windows, illuminating highlights within her hair against his tan chest, his arm tightly wound around her waist, and both of their bodies pressed into one side of the bed, despite its huge size. 

This was their normal; they had drawn an invisible line between their friendship and something more, they never dared to cross it but the line definitely grew to become blurrier as time went on.

Hence why, Lando continually found himself in a parked car outside of whatever bar or club she chose to spend her Friday night. He claims he would do this for any friend that would ask him to, he cared about how his friends would make it home, but she had never once asked to be picked up, rather he always offered.

On the outside, Lando made it clear he cared about her making it home safely, there was no reason for her to pay for a taxi when he was happy and available to take her home - a firm believer his driving was far safer than any taxi driver. But, there was a miniscule part inside his beating heart that knew it was more than just her safety. He liked picking her up because it meant she would go home with him.

Him and no one else.

“You’re sure your friends don’t need a lift too?” Lando waited to pull away from the bar until he had a definite answer; just because he was picking up his girl didn’t mean he was going to leave her friends stranded - his offers always extended to whoever she was out with. “You know I’d rather take them than a taxi.”

“I know, Lan, but Alex’s boyfriend’s on his way anyway,” Your lifted your head off of his car window to look over at Lando, sincerity laced within your words. “They’re all gonna stay at her place, it’s just easier.”

“Do you want me to drop you at Alex’s?” He hadn’t known the night out was extending into a girls night, feeling almost guilty for wanting you in his bed, his arms, rather than with your own friends. “You wanna spend the night there?”

“No,’ You let the word drag out, trying to bite back the grin that was threatening to spill over your lips. Unbeknownst to Lando, you wanted to end the night in his arms just as much as he did. “I’m tired and I think I’m done socialising for tonight.”

“Oh, okay. Just back to yours, then?” He had to actively keep his face from allowing a frown to take over after hearing your wish to no longer socialise, he had only assumed this Friday night would be the same as all the others but it appeared you had other plans.

“I mean, it’s kinda out of the way now, isn’t it?” You looked at the street whipping by you, trying to feign nonchalance over the thought of heading back to Lando’s. “Your place is probably easier.”

“Thought you didn’t want to socialise with anyone else tonight.” Lando was also trying to act nonchalant, like he didn’t care, like he hadn’t thought about this Friday night tradition ever since you had woken up in his arms last Saturday morning.

“Yeah but you don’t count.” A smile tugged at your lips as your social battery for others may have been used up, you didn’t think it could ever run out when it came to Lando. You didn’t have to play pretend, or use up much energy around him, if anything he rechargred your batteries. A night with him was exactly what you needed.

He knew exactly what you meant. You two didn’t have to even speak when you were around each other. Comfortable silence was enough to maintain your friendship.

Once Lando had parked his car, you made your way to his apartment, in that comfortable silence you had been craving. This silence followed both of you in the elevator, as he unlocked his front door, as you made your way to your respective drawer in his bedroom to find something to wear to bed, until he found you brushing your teeth and chose to join you. 

It was an image of domesticity; an old quadrant shirt of his draped over your body paired alongside a pair of his basketball shorts, your skincare lining his bathroom counter, your bodies pressed against one another - shoulder to shoulder, just as your pink and blue toothbrushes stood in their holder beside the sink. 

“What’s your plans for tomorrow?” Lando spoke through a mouthful of toothpaste, as thought his question couldn’t wait the two minutes. You poked your elbow into his ribs to shut him up until you had finished brushing your teeth.

“Not sure yet, the girls wanna go for brunch but nothing’s set in stone yet,” You looked at him through his bathroom mirror. “Why? What’re you scheming?”

“Just wondering,” He shrugged his shoulders then turned on his heel, making his way to his bedroom - prompting you to follow him. “Wondering if you wanna come play padel with me and Max tomorrow morning.” 

You watched as he peeled back the covers on his bed, placing an extra pillow onto your unassigned side of the bed because he knew you liked more pillows tha he did. “I think I’ll pass, that sounds sort of hellish to me.” Athletics had never been your thing, never one to actively participate in games, and whilst you loved Max you thought it was best to leave him and Lando their own time without you imposing - though, Lando would insist you could never impose.

“Yeah, that’s alright. Probably good to see him before the double header kicks in,” Lando climbed into his bed, arms open for you to crawl into as he was wasted no time in wanting to hold you close. “You’re still coming to Belguim, yeah?” Hints of uncertainty could be found within his voice, though he tried to hide it, he couldn’t help it. He wanted you there, cheering him on from the sidelines, because he wasn’t sure he could get through the next few races without that light at the end of the tunnel.

“Yeah ‘course.” You didn’t have to give it a second thought; you had already decided after a phone call with his mother, but it must’ve slipped your mind to tell Lando himself. You were more focused on making yourself comfortable against his body, your head taking its him on his chest as his fingertips danced along the sliver of skin that was shown from the way your legs tangled with his under the covers.

Night soond turned into morning, Lando’s alarm blaring through his phone, making him regret any decision to play padel as he felt your body intertwined with his. He had to fight every urge to cancel his plans for the day and instead keep you in his bed, wrapped up in his clothes and his arms and his bedsheets. Would it be too much to ask you to spend another night within seconds of his eyes opening? Perhaps, but he couldn’t bear the thought of spending his nights alone for the next two weeks. 

He had two separate hotel rooms booked for Belgium but he knew that, inevitably, either one of you would cave and pad your away across the hotel to the other hotel room, desperate for the comfort of laying beside one another.

Instead of dwelling on such thoughts, he forced himself to get up for the day, leaving you to rest in his bed whilst he headed out to padel. Not before sending you a quick text to wake up to:

Lan<3

Hey, just headed to padel with Max

I’ll be two hours at most and 

I’ll come home with breakfast

Stay put pretty girl

“Who are you texting?” Max asked as Lando climbed into his car, trying to peer over to see his phone screen but remaining unsuccessful as it was pulled out of his vision.

“No one, you nosey bastard.” Lando turned his phone off, begrudgingly so, and put it into his pocket.

“I know it’s her, don’t play daft,” Max knew everything about Lando and his girl, even if they were too blind to see it. “I know she’s in your bed right now, and I know you’re late ‘cause of it.”

Max knew they were meant to be, even if they didn’t, he knew it - they were taking their time in getting there, in realising that was even a possibility for the two of them. Something pulled them together, somehow they would realise it, and someday they would end up together.

Even if Lando claimed his career was too much for her to handle, only allowing himself short flings with girls that didn’t matter to him, instead of a fulfilling relationship - Max knew she would be able to handle the ins and outs of Lando’s world; she knew how to ground him after a win when his ego allowed him to feel like he was on top of the world, but she also knew how to calm him down when he came to her door upset after a race.

Max didn’t buy into her claims that Lando wouldn’t be with her because their worlds were too different, he knew that was what he wanted. He didn’t want someone who stuck around for his titles and fame, he wanted a welcome sign and a plane ride home.

But Max would never intrude on fate, he was letting them be. They were meant to be, he knew it as well as everyone around them, but he was letting fate run its course for the result would be far more fulfilling than if he meddled with the two sides of the same story he was continually being told. 

[goldfades]

Paige nsfw hcs pls

─ warnings | NSFW under the cut! read at your own discretion!

─ taglist | @xocherishxo @iienstein @yazmunson @euphternal and here's a link to my taglist if anyone would like to join!!

─ ev's notes | the long awaited nsfw headcanons for paigey, i finally got the motivation to write it after i kept reading the INSANE smut yall keep writing (keep it up im lovin it) also this is such a mess, this is just rambling and not organized whatsoever, but wtv i hope yall enjoyed :)

woo, where do i even begin?

let's begin with the obvious, paige is a TOP, i can't stress this enough

i genuinely can't see anyone topping her she's just .... a TOP

but that doesn't mean she won't let you take the reigns every once in awhile, esp after a bad game/tiring practice because everyone once to be taken care of sometimes

i'm def not the first person to say this and certainly will not be the last but STRAP GAME GOES SOOOOO HARD

i feel like at first she's gonna be weirded out cus like... she likes only girls for a reason??? and she has her mouth and fingers??? why would she need a piece of plastic to make her girl feel good???

but the first time y'all try it, she's hooked

she forgets ab her hands after that

jk but like

yeah she's HOOKED

she gets really into it LOL, def can imagine her calling the strap her dick

oh and she fucks HARDDDD like, no room to breathe or anything

like you'll be gasping for air after and she'll be super duper proud

i read this one fic with like the dual ended one (i didn't even know that existed) and then i was like yep, yes this is the oneee

with positions, i can't see her doing anything more than like missionary (cus she loves to see your pretty face) and like from the back

but as soon as she discovers riding, it's OVERRRRR for you

she's making you ride her strap anytime she can, cus she loves it

she has her hands on your hips as she's guiding you and she LOVES IT so fucking much, like the power she has over you makes her go feral

oh and do not get me started on sucking her strap, cus again she loves the power she holds over you

she has your hair in a ponytail and the more you get comfortable with the whole thing, she WILL make you gag

she acts like it's her dick (yeah i know we covered that) but like esp when you're sucking her strap, she will just dirty talk u the entire time

"you like my dick, pretty girl? like gagging on my dick?" cus yeah, u do

oh and yes, she does have breeding kink

it breaks her heart that she can't get you pregnant 😪

but she sure as hell will pretend to!!!!!

will 100% bend you over and just yap about getting you pregnant

also if she's fucking you in missionary, she expects you to look at her the entire time

so if you turn away, she will grab your face and keep you looking straight at her

FUCK IDK WHY THAT'S SO HOT

paige is a D1 yapper i fear, and that would 10000% seep into the bedroom LMAO

mostly praise cus babygirl would feel really bad but when she gets into, she GETS into it

like she will call you her slut as she's about cum

that post-nut clarity goes hard the first time tho cus she's like no way i called my gf a dirty fucking slut 😭😭 she sits with her thoughts for a good 10 minutes trying to recollect herself

she is a munch for sure, like she will eat you out for hours and hours on end (not an exaggeration btw)

but she LOVES when you give back

it makes her go fucking feral when she sees you eating her out, like yessssssssssssss

she has to close her eyes bc if she keeps looking at your face, she WILL cum

she has a bad hair pulling problem, like she will grip your hair so hard your head will hurt after

it's apart of the appeal tho 🎀

her fav spot to get absolutely ate is her gaming chair cus like, she needs you in between her legs giving her support to get that victory royale 💯💯💯

she hates when she gets ass or tits bc she genuinely cannot pick

it depends on the day bc they're both great, she will never pick one

i feel like she's definitely thought ab fucking you in public but she can't risk it

SHES A D1 ATHLETE !!

the only time yall did was in a bathroom at an event and it was SOOO bad afterwards cus everyone could tell

you had to pretend like you didn't get your brains fucked out and paige had to pretend she didn't DO the fucking

but lowkey she enjoyed it a lot, but would she do it again?

maybe, a solid maybe (with the right motivation)

okay but like ....

she def has fingered u while the girls are over cus like, she was in a silly mood?

you just looked too fucking good, she had to

but thank god no one noticed (at least to yalls knowledge...)

she's a horny fuck ARGUE WITH THE WALL

she will get turned on by anything you do, like homegirl is just sooooo down bad for you

you could be applying chapstick and paige will be like "we need to fuck, now."

paige's aftercare is just giving you water and cuddling with you for 10 mis while scrolling on tiktok and then gets up to play fortnite with kk

she literally is the tiktok where it's like "after he rearranges my organs he goes and plays fortnite" i hope yall know what i'm talking about

but you don't mind ofc cus she makes you sit on her lap while playing

but then turns into another round cus shes a horny fuck

paige is all for hickies on YOU but she gets pissed when you give her a hickey cus she's like people are gonna see

like she's the only one who has to deal with the public 🙄🙄🙄

but she loves marking you EVERYWHERE, esp on your collarbone like it's so sexy

oh and god bless you in the summer, the ones on your thighs are getting AIRED OUT bc paige does not care

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[ohnopoteito]

"something about you" ellie × reader

Reader entering a convenience store and falling in love with cashier Ellie.

a/n: Hello again everyone!!! i know it's been a long time since i first posted this fanfic and I'm so sorry for that :( honestly i wasn't expecting all those likes and all 😭😭😭 thank you so much for receiving my work so well!!! I'll organize everything better later bc I'm so tired rn

c/w: i don't know??? maybe low self steem stuff, anxiety knocking reader's door, still a fluff fanfic!!! notproofread (im not wearing my glasses pls) + english is not my first language but feel free to correct me!!! just enjoy it pookies ;))

chapter two ♡

Waking up that morning was just as light as a feather, a slight and good anxiety running through your veins and flesh, boosting your body to jump out of bed and start your day. Good appearance was what you've chosen for the day, wondering even if you should brush your teeth twice before leaving home and head to your mission of the day, get the auburn hair cashier's name or something you could have to be close to her, just the thought of that was enough for a smile from ear to ear to bloom on your face.

Backpack around your shoulders as you left your place and walked with excited silly steps to the convenience store where your heart raced almost passionately. Across the street, you could watch an unknown and masculine figure organizing cardboard boxes in the store facade, scrunching your face and fixing your dirty glasses — the ones you forgot cleaning after saying you'd clean the following day —, you could tell the man had already grey hair and wrinkled face, but he still managed to have a good appearance.

Taking a deep breath and crossing the street, you wondered if it really was a good idea, anxious thoughts wrecking you once again, frowning as you realize your body stading in front of the store for long five minutes. Your breath stuck in your throat, her figure from afar and those beautiful physical traits were carefully perceived by your curious eyes.

Too distracted to even notice the environment around you, a gentle palm rested on your tense shoulder, causing you to jump in response. The same man you eyed before, he smiled at you as his hands brushed his leather coat before speaking.

"Sorry if I scared you." His voice was deep yet caring for you, a faint smile could be seen.

"No, it's fine! I was just... distracted." You spoke up kindly, your hands sweating as your fingers fidgeted to relieve your anxiety. "Sorry for asking, but do you work here?" Was the best you could speak, and the only response you got was a cracked chuckle.

"Guess what, it's a funny part." He said as his long feet stepped a way from you, signing for you to follow him as well. You tilt your head to the side, wondering if you were about to be kidnaped or something, but you follow his path calmly. You stood next to him as his hand raised and pointed to the storefront sign.

"Joel's" you whispered as your eyes scrunched in an attempt to read clearly despite the bright sun making your eyes sting, you could read properly the store's name after having only an blurred image of the sign in your subconscious.

You looked at him, waiting for something, but his smile only grew more. "Guess what my name is." He finally said.

You blinked a few times, guiding your eyes to look around before responding, "Joel?" You sounded unsure. The answer was obvious, but you couldn't believe he'd be so predictable.

He burst in laugh after that, you could just give him a smile back nervously, he was acting like it was the funniest thing ever, you felt guilty for not laughing and looked to the sign again, faking a chuckle as you avoided looking at him.

"Everyone find it funny." He said as his finger brushed his eyelids, wiping away a tear that was about to run down the corner of his eye. You covered your mouth, thinking what just happened.

Your hand followed to the back of your neck, scratching lightly. "Yeah, it's really funny..." you said uncertainly, your words falling falsely from your lips.

"Um, I have... to go, so..." You stuttered as you walked away slowly.

"No problem, dear." He waved gently. You really wanted to find that funny but, god. "We have some products on sale, check them out!

You smiled once again before turning back him and heading to the local market.

As you entered the place, your figure walked to a random section, it was just some snacks in. Your eyes scanned some of them, a sound of the rubber sole of a sneaker sliding across the floor close to you.

"I saw that." The familiar husky voice tone made your body shiver,

Your body turned to face the figure in front of you quickly enough to have a spasm when you met those intense and tired green eyes observing your facial features.

"What?" Your eyes widened.

"You and Joel." she said with a lazy smirk, her arms crossed and her weight shifting to her left leg. "The storefront sign thing." Her eyes looked away, her side profile holding you in a trance. The daylight highlighted her pale skin and the freckles that ran all over her face.

You could swear you've seen a smile on her dry lips. "You were just another victim." She sounded happy, even though her tone of voice made it hard to discern her emotions.

"I wasn't a victim, I just went with the flow." A soft answer, hands touching the shelves to spare all the energy on your nerves, eyes looking at a blind spot behind the auburn girl. A deep breath before finally speaking again.

"Do you also have a different way to present yourself?" You could feel a drop of sweat forming on your scalp. "Like, just as creatively as Joel?"

The girl right before you bit her lip, peeling the dry skin as her eyes were locked on her old black converse.

"No, I'm just ordinary. No signs with my name." She smiled at you. Your heart skipped a beat when her eyes met yours.

"I'm Ellie."

Your smile bloomed sweetly, "cute." You thought

Ellie smiled softly when you told her your name as well, crossing her arms against her chest, her arm tattoo plainly visible. The ink was a bit faded, so you deduced it had been tattooed a long time ago. You couldn't keep the conversation going for more than that. The best you could do was pick a random snack you didn't even like and pay for it, only to see Ellie smiling at you as she handed you your shopping bag.

You kept this way for the rest of the week, waking up earlier, going to Joel's and choosing some product only to see her face and have an ordinary short talk, repeat the last steps after your classes. "Am I being too weird?" You thought with yourself after leaving the local market once again.

Ellie seemed to not care, at least. Maybe she just doesn't care. You should save your money and stop being stupid.

But you couldn't. You pressed your lips tightly as you entered the convenience store after your classes, the guilt making your shoulders heavy and tense. Walking silently through the sections that you had already memorized every product of each one of them, chewing your inner cheek, trying to think straight and stop yourself, you began to feel... sad.

It couldn't be a wasted time walking more than the usual way you took. Shrugging off your thoughts, you grabbed a bottle of water and headed to the checkout counter for the last time, you've promised to yourself. Your eyes avoided Ellie as you watched her take the bottle and scan it.

"You good?"

She was the one to speak first, her fingers lightly caressing her eye bags, her eyes fixed on you. It was as if everything had just stopped around you; you couldn't listen to a single word. Her lips were moving, but you couldn't understand a thing. Your mind went blank. You could only shake your head slowly, blinking in an attempt to wake yourself up from that trance.

"Um?" You hummed, your mouth went dry.

And she... laughed?

"What?" You asked again, your eyes laid on the chunky notebook next to the cash register before returning to Ellie.

"I asked if you're fine." She muttered, handing you the plastic bag. "You look disoriented today. Just worried."

At least you know she doesn't hate you, you let out a sigh in relief.

"Ah, I see..." You swallowed, holding the plastic bag and feeling the tip of her fingers brushing lightly against yours. "Maybe I am."

You squeezed the bag slightly, letting your palm feel the cold water drops sweating the plastic.

"I hope you figure it out." Her voice was soft. Your lips formed a thin smile. Her tone sounded just as sincere. You didn't know much about Ellie, and she was in the same boat as you. She couldn't push boundaries either, and she still could understand your odd behavior even if it wasn't her business. A safe distance.

"Don't need to pay for it, by the way." She rested her left hand on the back of her neck, massaging the area.

"What? But i want to." You answered.

"No, you don't." You frowned as she turned her back to you and began to look for something in her old backpack, a spaceship pin decorating the blue fabric. "Consider it as a gift, will you?"

You couldn't hold your tongue much longer. "Why is that?"

She didn't answer you immediately, Ellie spent some seconds in silence.

"You know, you're a frequent customer and polite... I mean, I just think some good action would make your night better." She sounded nonchalant, but you could hear a "Man..."

"I don't know, I'm not the best at cheering people up. Sorry." She spoke again before turning back to you. "Here, for you."

A dinosaur sticker pad, in the same art style as the others you'd seen around the store, the same as the one on the cover of her notebook. One sticker pad with four dinosaur stickers on it.

Your smile was sincere and bright as a sunshine, tilting your head to the side, you admired the art style and Ellie's cute actions.

"This is the best I can do... for now." Her hands rested on her hips. She was wearing old, faded, skinny jeans and her uniform shirt. Her teeth peeled the dry skin of her lips.

"It's perfect, thank you." Your smile didn't fade away.

It wasn't a kid sticking dinosaur images after all; it was just Ellie. The auburn-haired girl, the one with an intimidating posture and such an intense gaze, with those beautiful green eyes that could make your knees weak. She was just someone trying to cheer up a frequent customer, wasn't she?

Your eyes fixed on her freckles, overthinking again. Wondering if you should postpone asking for her number. You couldn't screw that up.

"Ellie?" You called her name, feeling your body shiver just by saying her name. Your skin felt warm as her eyes met yours again, those green orbs focusing solely on you.

Were you seeing things? Or Ellie seemed... interested in what you had to say? No, not at all.

"Um?" Her eyebrows rose slightly, a relaxed expression on her face. She seemed tired, just like the last day, but not uninterested.

"I..." You laughed nervously, already regreting the other words you were holding in your throat. Nails scracthing the back of your neck as you looked around, "I don't know if I should say this." A nervous smile made Ellie tilt her head to the side, the poorly tied bun left some strands of hair coming out.

"Why? Is there something off?" She asked as her gaze frowned.

Your fingers caressed the sticker pad. "It's just that... I wish I had more knowledge about dinosaurs." It was true, indeed. You would learn everything just to talk to her. You looked at her again, her head lowered, her sneaker sole playing with the floor.

Your tired eyes landed on her figure. You weren't really expecting an answer. You had just thought aloud, and you were okay with that. You were okay with her silence, the lack of dialogue between you. The silence was friendly. It felt good.

"I can teach you." She almost whispered; she wasn't looking at you, but you were noticing every detail of her body language. "If you're okay with that, of course."

You were both blushing, your heart beating so fast you were almost sure you would pass out. Your blood rushed to your feet, preparing you to run. But you didn't want to; anxiety is so dumb.

"This is so stupid. I don't even know why I said that. Sorry." She brushed her palm over her face. You frowned lightly, concerned.

"No! It's fine, I'd love that, honestly." You waved to her, "I just..." You bit your inner cheek, heart beating faster.

"I wanna talk to you more. If you're okay with that too."

Ellie smiled at you, a thin smile to you as her eyes seemed to smile as well. You could feel the butterflies in your stomach. Ellie was something you had never experienced before.

"Can I get your number?" she stuttered.

!!!

omg guys it's so stressful to write dialogues 😩

anyway i hope everything is okay and in place!!!

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thank you again everyone!!!

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