#so I don’t understand why all you love her

[pitchsidestories]

look at us now II Renée Slegers x Reader

romantic masterlist | platonic masterlist | word count: 2689

summary: former lovers reunite at Arsenal.

author's note: hi, our first Renée Slegers fanfic, let us know your thoughts on it. As always this is purely fiction, enjoy. 🤍❤️

image sources

 “So, you hired another assistant coach without telling me?”, Renée asked incredulously, well aware that except for her, the room was full of very important looking men.

One of them nodded sternly: “You needed another one. We made the decision for you.”

Renée closed her eyes for a brief moment and took a deep breath, fighting the urge to protest. She was Arsenals new head coach after all.

With forced calmness, she asked: “Who is it?”

“You know her already.”

Her eyebrows knitted together in confusion. She opened her mouth in order to ask what that was about to mean when you finally made your appearance. You had waited all morning in anticipation to surprise your former teammate with your presence.

“Hello Renée.”, you greeted her as you walked into the room.

Recognition flashed across her face, followed by genuine excitement. She got up from her chair, beaming: “You!”

Before you knew what was happening, she wrapped her arms around your neck and pulled you into a way too tight hug.

“Yes, it’s me. Don’t strangle me, please! That would be sad first last workday at the Arsenal.”, you laughed.

“You’re so stupid! I missed you so much.”, Renée giggled but finally let go of you.

For a second, you stood there and took each other in and it almost felt like nothing had changed since you played together in Sweden.

“I missed you too but now every player and staff member are staring at us which is kind of awkward.”, you admitted, nodding towards the door where the first pairs of eyes tried to figure out who the newest addition to the team was.

“They’re just curious about you. Let me introduce you.”, Renée suggested, leading you out of the conference room.

You followed patiently.

“Renée, who’s that girl you almost couldn’t let go of?”, Beth asked, blinking innocently at you.

“That’s y/n. She’s the new assistant coach and we used to play together for Linköpings.”, Renée explained. You didn’t miss the slight hint of pride in her voice.

Your eyes found another Swede between the players.

“Actually, I played with Stina too.”, you added.

The striker smiled at you: “Good to see you again.”

“You too. And I can’t wait to get to know each of you.”, you said towards the crowd.

Renée turned to you: “You will love them.”

“Oh, I’m sure of it.”

“Come on, I’ll show you around.”

Suddenly, your hand was in Renées as she dragged with her towards the football pitches. You could still feel the eyes of your new players on you as you followed Renée.

The eyes of Stina's teammates were expectantly drawn to her once the two of you had left the room.

An edgy laugh escaped the blonde’s lips: “What? Why are you all looking at me now?”

“Tell us!”, Beth commanded grinning.

The Swedish striker began to play nervously with her blonde hair: “Well what do you want to know?”

“About our new staff member and Renée of course!”, Leah replied thrilled.

Using the same excited tone as her, Beth added: “Obviously.”

“Not if she was a good baller or had a good sense and understanding of the game.”, Stinas eyes flashed in amusement.

“Actually.”, threw Kim in who was unlike the rest of the players indeed interested in that side of you.

The England captain clicked her tongue disapprovingly: “No, Kim.”

“We want the tea, Stina.”, Alessia told her.

She paused dramatically, during which everyone held their breath tensely, before admitting:” Yeah, they used to date.”

“When they were players or did, they continue to date once she became the head coach?”, Leah asked the forward curiously.

Stina cleared her throat and answered in a serious voice: “They ended it once Renée retired and took the coaching job in Rosengård.”

After this revelation the room fell silent for a second before Beth concluded with a heavy sigh:” Oh, that’s sad.”

“They seemed okay with it.”, the Swedish striker remarked.

Meanwhile Renée and you were walking along the training pitches, it was a cold day, but the golden afternoon sun warmed your faces. It was where you heard yourself say: “I’m glad that you don’t seem to mind that I took the job, Renée. Considering how things have ended between us in Malmö.”

“We mutually agreed to end this relationship.”, the Arsenal head coach remembered, while the smile disappeared from her face.

“True, it was the best solution at that time.”, you nodded.

Slowly, as the sunlight disappeared, the warmth returned to Renee's dark eyes, confessing:” I’m just happy to see you again.”

“Same. Nothing more.”, you agreed.

“That’s good.”, she observed.

At the end of your tour, you wished her goodbye:” So, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yes. See you tomorrow.”, Renée waved at you, her gaze following you until you were gone.

With a heavy heart the Dutch woman reminisced about all the wins and losses you had shared together in Sweden until her career ending injury put an end to it. Like a disco ball, Renée had put the shards that had caused the separation into each other to turn the pain into something bright.

She was content with her work, so love life wasn't a big issue until you came back into her life and made her wonder if maybe she should expect more from life.

The next day, you entered the training ground in a cheerful mood. “Good morning, Stina!”, you greeted your former teammate warmly.

“Morning.”, Stina beamed brightly back at you.

There was no time for small talk as Kelly Smith approached you: “Y/n?”

“Yes?”, you asked surprised. Sometimes you still couldn’t believe that you were working with her. Not only was she a legendary player for England but also for the whole of womens football.

She still smiled politely at you: “I think Renée is looking for you.”

You nodded once: “I’m coming.”

Renée was already on the pitch, one foot on a ball and her arms folded over her chest as she waited for the players to arrive.

You caught her eye from the other side of the field and smiled at her.

For a split second, Renée lost her balance on the ball, stumbling forward but catching herself quickly.

It all went by so fast, you had no time to worry about her.

“You’re good?”, you called out to her, teasing.

You had the feeling that somewhere behind you, Kelly was holding back laughter.

Renées cheeks had turned a slightly darker colour: “Yeah, of course.”

“Kelly said you wanted to see me?”, you said as you finally crossed the pitch.

“I do.”

You leaned forward, whispering: “I saw the dinner invitation in the locker room.”

The corners of Renées mouth quirked up: “Good. Are you free tonight?”

“Yes, I am. Will Kelly and the boys join us too?”

“No, it’s just us.”

Somehow your brain stopped working in that exact moment. You weren’t prepared for you and her. You had been thinking of nice little staff dinner where you had the opportunity to get to know everyone better. Being alone with Renée made your heart race a little.

Hesitantly, you accepted the invitation: “Alright… I guess I’ll go back to work.”

“Okay.”, Renée nodded.

Luckily, the players entered the pitch at that moment.

Beth who had caught the end of your conversation, stared at Renée with hopeful eyes: “Is that a date?”

“No.”, the head coach replied matter-of-factly.

Victoria elbowed Beth in the side: “Stop seeing things, Beffy.”

“I don’t”, the winger protested.

Kim rolled her eyes: “Yes, you do. You’re delusional.”

“You will see.”, Beth said full of confidence before Renée sent them to warm up.

Against your better judgement, you found yourself in a tiny but charming restaurant that night.

“The dinner is so delicious, Renée.”, you said, taking a sip of your wine.

She smiled at you almost shyly: “Glad you like it.”

“Next time we should bring the whole team and staff here.”

Her face turned a bit more serious: “Yes, we should. But first I wanted to talk to you alone.”

“About something specific?”

“No, just to catch up.”, Renée explained whose cheeks were slightly reddish in colour, you weren’t sure whether it was the wine or her nervousness. 

Instead of looking into her curious dark chocolate brown eyes, you stared at the wine glass in front of you as you confessing: ”I left Sweden because I needed a change.”

“A change?”, she repeated your words in a sincerely interested tone.

For a moment, you paused while the waitress lit the candle in the centre of the table, the flickering light made the conversation even more intimate: “To heal from heartbreak. What about you? What did I miss?”

“Not much. I tried to focus on football after leaving Rosengård.“, the football coach admitted casually. Whilst Renée undid her low hair bun so that her dark brown hair fell in waves over her shoulders.

With an amused smile on your lips, you remarked in disbelief:” That doesn’t sound like the fun Renée I knew from Linköping.”

Memories of her with a big cigar in her mouth and a ridiculous hat after winning the Swedish league came to your mind.

“Hey, I’m still fun.”, protested the Dutch woman, pointing her fork at you.

You cleared your throat and replied more seriously:” Yes, the players seem to think that too.”

“I take that as a compliment.”, she responded happily.

“You should, they’re really great to work with so far.”, you acknowledged.

Her radiant grin was infectious:” I think they like you too.”

“Only Beth is a bit annoying with..”, you began, thinking about the huge interest the English striker had in your private lives.

Renée waved your worries off:” Yes, I know. But that’s just how she’s, she only has good intentions.”

“I guess that’s true. I mean would be crazy if you still would have -.. , right?”, you started to ramble.  

She lifted an eyebrow at you: “Would have what?”

“Feelings after a mutual breakup.”, you finished your previous sentence flustered.

The brunette spoke your name gently.

“Yes?”, you glanced at her expectantly.

Fiercely and passionately, Renée continued: “Of course I do. I didn’t break up with you because I didn’t have feelings for you anymore, I broke up with you because I suddenly was your coach, and it was wrong to date a player.”

Afterwards, there was a dramatic silence at the table. “Well, I’m not a player anymore.”, you said matter-of-factly.

“I’m aware of that.”, she answered with a wistful smile.

Slightly sheepishly, you asked her:” Was that why you wanted a dinner with me alone first?”

“To see if we could get back together? No. I wanted to know how you’re, what you’ve been up to?”, the football coach tried to be professional again.

“Now you know.”

“I do.”, Renée confirmed, playing with the idea to order some dessert for both of you as it was a speciality of this restaurant.

Much to her disappointment though, you stood up:” Thank you for the dinner, it was a nice catching up.”

“Yes, I agree.”, the brunette waved at the waitress, signalling that she was ready to pay for the two of you.

The first game of the year and also the first game in your new job was against Crystal Palace a few days later. To your delight, the girls played great, winning the game 5:0 and building their confidence in this first game.

“Great win, girls.”, you clapped your hands as the referee blew the final whistle.

Renée appeared on your side.

“That’s exactly what we wanted to see.”, she agreed.

“Oh yes, well done everyone.”, you smiled and handed out water bottles to the players. They high-fived you, done but happy while Renée said a few words to the players.

Happily you watched as the players rightfully celebrated their win until an elbow to your side made you look up.

Renée was grinning at you: “Good job from you too.”

“From me? I didn’t do much yet.”, you said, feeling heat rise into your cheeks.

“You did everything I expect from my assistant coach. Arsenal made the right decision, we’re a good team.”, Renée said softly.

You nodded, smiling gently at her: “Yes, we are.”

“Come on, let the girls celebrate.”, Renée said, nodding in the direction of the sidelines so your players could have the pitch to themselves.

You didn’t follow immediately. Instead, you pointed to a few reporters that stood on the side, waiting for their first interviews. “The media already calls for you.”

“On my way.”, Renée winked and disappeared into the direction of the cameras.

Just when you were wondering when exactly she became so comfortable giving interviews, Leah stepped into your field of vision.

“Leah? Shouldn’t you celebrate with your teammates?”, you asked jokingly.

She shrugged with a smile: “I was about to. It’s not everyday that you score a goal as a defender.”

“I know. That’s why you need to enjoy every second of it.”

“Oh, I will.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”, you laughed.

Leah pushed you gently towards the rest of the team: “Celebrate with us!”

There was no way you could decline now, so you agreed and followed along: “Alright.”

A few minutes of jumping and hugging several players later, Renée found you on the pitch again.

Her eyes glowed with amusement: “Did they manage to get you to celebrate with them?”

“I couldn’t say no to that.”, you admitted

“Of course not.”, Renée laughed.

“See?”

She winked at you: “Enjoy your first win.”

You toasted to her with a random water bottle that somehow had ended up in your hand: “To many more wins.”

“Yes, please.”, she laughed.

“Y/n! Come with us!”, Beth interrupted your conversation and waved you over.

“Where are we going?”, you asked.

“It’s a surprise.”, Mariona replied instead of Beth, smiling excitedly.

It was already night when you got home and when you saw Renée's number light up on your mobile phone, you held your breath for a moment, although you didn't know exactly why.

“Sorry, I hope I didn’t wake you up.”, she apologized quietly as you answered her call.

A soft chuckle escaped your lips: “No, I was still awake, the Arsenal players can stay in pubs forever let me tell you that.

“Oh, I know, they did that to me too once.”, the Dutch woman remembered fondly.

“Kim and I left at the same time.” Teasingly you added:” So did you call me because you have come up with a masterplan against Chelsea or is it something else?”

“It’s something else. There’s something I need to talk about with you”, Renée admitted.

Your heart began to race: “Sure.”

“I kind of miss what we had back when.”, the head coach confessed.

The moment she said that you caught yourself reminiscing about memories of the past “Me too. We had some good parties with the team back then too.”

“Y/n.. I meant us. You and me.”, Renée clarified.

You felt the hope rise in you: “Do you think we could start again?”

“I don’t know, would you even like that? Or would you rather want to keep it professional.”, she began to nervously ramble.

You had heard yourself thinking out loud: “Pretty sure both can work this time.”

“Yes, but I want to know what you want.”

“I want to be with you. Renée, you’re an idiot, why are you standing outside in the cold?!”, you whispered into the phone, your eyes wandering off to the window where you noticed her in flesh and blood under the golden glow of the streetlamp light.

“In case that you say yes. What did you expect me to do? Go back to bed?”, Renée questioned with a warm laugh.  

Soon you got up to go to the front door: “Wait, I’ll let you in.”

“Thanks.”, she replied relived.

“You look like you’re freezing, come inside.”, you observed while you let her inside.

The brunette thanked you once more, kissing you, her icy lips melting on yours as the door closed behind the two of you.

[raebiis]

I was thinking about this last night, so I’ll share the idea I had here:

Organized crime- not (explicitly) the mafia bc that’s just gauche. But their roots are the same. This is temporarily from the love interest’s POV, so I’ll refer to them as MC for now. Also, this was more meant to be a sort of ‘warning’ to the MC but they’re drawn in anyway- it gets much worse when romance is involved… tbh I just love a good toxic relationship.

The MC (who I personally imagined as Al Pacino’s Micheal Corleone- a little fanfic just for me- but to each their own) is witness to an argument between two sisters. One is the ‘leader��� and the other is… not ignorant, but also not completely informed.

The other is a recovering addict who relapsed and the leader found out about it. The leader confronts the other and there’s an ensuing argument/one sided screaming fest while the other cries and tries to shift blame.

She blames it on her longtime boyfriend (there’s history there).

It’s a mistake.

“Oh,” leader says, suddenly calm. And why does she look a little amused? “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” cries other, unable to recognize the danger through her tears.

“Are you absolutely positive that it’s his fault?” Leader clarifies. “And this is how you want this to go?”

“Yes,” other insists.

“Okay,” leader says, and leans in to press a kiss to others head, “then just rest here and I’ll take care of it.”

And other would know better, should know better, if not for the relief of leader no longer being upset with her.

It’s only when leader pulls a gun from the drawer next to her that other catches on. But it’s too late, leader has already silently ordered the goons to keep other there and out of the way.

Other is begging, pleading, but her words fall on deaf ears. Leader brushes past MC on her way out, and MC turns to watch her out of the window.

Other’s boyfriend is outside, having just exited the shed out back. He looks up at Leader and begins to smile before she raises the gun- his face hardly has time to shift in horror before-

!!!

Leader takes her time meandering back to the house, other’s wails can be heard all the way down to the lake at the bottom of the hill the house sits on.

When leader enters again, MC can feel their heart racing and they take a measured step back. But leader doesn’t even notice them.

She sets the gun aside and goes to her sister, gathering her in her arms and shushing her tears.

“It’s alright,” says leader, “don’t worry. I’ve taken care of the problem. You can start to really work on recovery, now.”

And other blubbers out something that sounds a lot like a confession to having lied. Her boyfriend was innocent?

Leader’s smile is unsettling when she pulls back and cradles her sister’s crying face (she already knew). “Don’t say that, other. Because if he wasn’t the source of the infection?”

Her thumbs press deeply into the hinge of her sister’s jaw, and her smile is long gone by now.

“That means I’ll just have to cut deeper.”

And other has a look on their face- understanding, despair, and the unconditional love of siblings forged in fire. Other knows to forgive leader is to invite more pain, but how could she not? Leader is her sister, and her sister has been by her side all these years. And her sister isn’t always terrible. Most of the time she’s kind, generous, gentle…. That’s gotta mean something. It has to make up for all the times leader is cruel.

Doesn’t it?

(And, of course, we see the same happen to MC. They’ve seen the warning signs, but leader at her best is just so charming and so loving- how could they ever not love her? Why, even in her most wicked moments leader is only expressing the depth of their unfathomable love. Leader hurts them to save them. Right?)

fucked up hurt/comfort. the person who stabbed you tends to your wound. the person who killed your loved one helps you grieve.

[landopoet]

two prizes.

pairing lando norris x journalist!reader

warnings smut, oral (fem receiving), mentions of alcohol

synopsis that day was not the first time you and lando had met, and he helps you remember that

author’s note posting my older works, thanks to @clovermoters for the collage up top!

♯

Excitement pulsed through your veins at the mere sound of engines roaring.

The amount of people trying to push past you made you anxious, but you knew it was all part of the experience. Everyone was bunching up to watch one of the greatest events of all time— the Miami GrandPrix.

Once you make it through the crowd, avoiding elbows and shoulders of people much taller and energetic than you, the entrance that you need comes into view.

You weren’t just excited for the interviews you were going to watch up close, but also the entire concept of the race. The hustle of engineers in all these garages, working their hardest to get the drivers in and out of the pits with minimal time to waste. Not to mention the drivers themselves, having to sit in the cars for multiple hours over the race weekend with no complaints— they chose to do this, they deal with the consequences.

That’s exactly what excited you. The reasoning for their choice to do this, you wanted to ask each and every one of them why they wanted to do this, what was so interesting?

You guessed their answer would be the same as yours if you were asked why you became a sports journalist.

Keeping your amazement at bay, you observed the race, focused on everything going on even though it was a lot to keep up with. But that’s exactly what you were there for.

You were sitting in the grandstands, intently watching the cars fly past you, when your phone rang. The caller ID said it was your coworker who had also been at the race but disappeared about ten minutes ago.

“Hello?”

She sounded distressed when you heard her voice. “Hey, love. I was wondering if you could take over the post-race interviews?”

Today was supposed to be a sort of intern day for you, meaning you were just going to watch your colleague interview the drivers and better understand what the etiquette is for it. You hadn’t expected to have your first interview today.

“Uh, why?” You asked, in a whisper. “You know I’ve never interviewed anyone before, right?”

“So?” She seemed much more confident in you than you were in yourself. “You’ve studied journalism for a few years now, yeah? I don’t think you’d have taken an internship at SkySports for nothing.”

“I mean, I guess?” You shrug. “I’m not sure if I’m ready to speak to actual drivers, though. What if I make a fool of myself?”

“You won’t if you remember that they’re just people doing their jobs, and you’re doing your job by asking them questions.” She makes a good point and you sigh in defeat.

“Alright, I’ll do it. Send over the information you’ve written.”

“Sorry.” You hear her slightly laugh. “You gotta fend for yourself with that one, hun. It’s a cruel world we live in. Cheers.”

With that, the call ended and you were left with nothing but anxiety weighing on your shoulders. The rest of the race seemed to fly by in mere minutes, your mind too focused on the pressure of your first ever interview.

Well, not first ever.

You imagined the day would come sooner or later, so you’d practise a conversation with one of the drivers by speaking to yourself in the mirror. That, and watching multiple interviews through the years, soaking up every bit of information you could about the process of it.

Before you knew it, you were standing in a sea of people with their cameras, waiting for the drivers to make their way to you.

It wasn’t that nerve wracking when you actually started talking to them, and by the time you got to Daniel, you had lost all feelings of anxiety, instead laughing along to his jokes.

You thought so, at least. A feeling of intimidation crawled up your spine when your eyes locked with Lando Norris, a driver for Mclaren. You noticed the piercing look from across the room as he spoke to a different interviewer, his green pupils tracking your every move as you spoke to Oscar.

The interview with Oscar wraps up and he begins turning away from you. “Good luck on your next race!”

Oscar smiled at you as he walked off to somewhere you could only guess.

If you had been anxious before, you were probably five times as anxious now, because Oscar Piastri leaving the spot in front of you meant that Lando Norris would be replacing him. And, for whatever reason, he was making you incredibly nervous.

You looked down at the ground as Lando approached you, waiting to hear what you had to say. You couldn’t bear looking up at him, knowing he’s already staring at you. But it was part of your job and you had to stay professional.

“Hello, Lando.” You said, cheerily.

“Hi,” he grinned at you, sweaty and all, his dimples appearing for a split second. “How are you?”

“I’m alright, thanks, how was the race?” You asked with a smile, ignoring the butterflies in the pit of your stomach when he smiled at you again.

Lando’s green eyes studied your face, soaking up each detail he missed since the last time he had seen you. He knows you don’t remember him and he doesn’t need you to, it’s kind of nice to feel something without reciprocation from the other.

After a long while, Lando shrugged. “Yeah, uh, the race was pretty good, I mean, I got first place, so I’d say it’s good. Y’know, aside from Oscar’s incident, but that’s not something we can predict, it just happens.”

You watched intently as he explained the race, your eyes oddly drawn to his lips. The pattern at which they move, and the tempting way he pokes his tongue out to tap the corners of his lips, makes you weak.

This was horribly unprofessional of you, and you knew that, but the charms of this young british racer had worked their magic on you, and you weren’t strong enough to resist it.

You felt like it was just the two of you in the room and both of you were trying your damn best not to break, one for more reasons than the other.

“Yeah, it seems like it was a lucky race for you, the pace of your car was incredible to watch.” You pointed out, looking down at the race data on your clipboard. “The RedBull’s were a bit slower this race, do you think that gave you an advantage?”

“Well, they already win races left, right and centre. They have to be bad sometimes.” Lando stifled a laugh. “But, uh, I don’t know. I think it all came down to the car and my ability to control it. The pace was insane, honestly, I wasn’t expecting it to be faster than a RedBull.”

The joke made you giggle and you quickly hid your face by looking away for a mere moment, in an attempt to recollect yourself. Thankfully, none of the cameras were on your face.

“Or it’s just pure talent, I’d say.” You look back up at him, his eyes never once leaving your face. He’s so smiley and it’s contagious, so you can’t help but smile at him, too. “Any plans for the celebration? You must be feeling ecstatic about your first win, so I assume the celebration must be as big as this.”

Lando puts the tube of his water bottle to his lips and takes a long sip, eyes still glued to you. He wasn’t even blinking, far too focused on the shape of your lips and how good they felt that night. That one night you can’t seem to remember.

“I’m not entirely sure, if I’m honest.” He shrugs, tongue poking out to lick his bottom lip before he takes it between his teeth, biting back the widest grin you’ve ever seen on his face. “I still have to call my mum and siblings.”

“I’m sure they’re incredibly proud of you,” you smile, politely. He’s still intently looking at you, cheeks now burning red at your comment accompanied by his massive grin.

It was time to wrap up your chat with Lando, but, in all honesty, you really didn’t want to. You felt something brewing in your chest at the mere feeling of his eyes burning into you, and it excited you.

Still, you ignore it. You had to stay professional, even if it was all too much to handle. “It was lovely chatting with you, Lando. Congratulations and good luck next race.”

“Will you be interviewing me next time, too?” Lando asks, making no move to walk away just yet. His eyes narrowed onto yours when you looked back at him, an adorably surprised look on your face.

“Uh,” you look away for a moment, not sure what to say. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“I look forward to seeing you again. Maybe.” He gave you another cocky smirk and nodded his head as a farewell, leaving you nothing but a blushing mess in the media pen.

After a plethora of interviews back to back, you were tired beyond words. Your feet were sore, your back hurt, you felt your eyelids close if you stood still for longer than two seconds. The image of your soft hotel bed made you motivated to keep moving through the building and find your way out.

“Oh, hey!” A familiar voice stopped you in your tracks. “Y/N, was it?”

Your eyes find their way to the person behind you and you’re happy to see that it’s Daniel. “Daniel! Hi, nice to see you again.” You extended a hand to shake and he smiled as he squeezed it.

“Was lovely talking to you earlier. You asked such great questions, honestly, it made me really think about my answers, y’know?” You hadn’t noticed how both of you started walking again and he kept up with your pace. “How long have you been doing this?”

“Oh, interviewing?” You ask and he nods eagerly, with the energy of a little boy. “This was my first official day of interviewing, actually. I had to step in for my colleague.”

“No way.” He muses, jaw slack and eyes glimmering with interest. “The way you interacted with me had me thinking you were carrying a load of experience.”

You stifle a laugh and watch the path ahead. “Yeah, well. I practised a lot in my room. You have race sims, I have a mirror and a hairbrush for a microphone.”

Daniel’s laugh echoed in the mostly empty area around you. “You’re funny, too.” He muses once again, shocked by how much fun you can be. “Listen, I know it’s not professional to ask this, but are you free tonight?”

“Oh, uh,” you look up at him and hesitate. “I’m not interested in-“

“No, no,” Daniel waves his hands in the air as if to stop the words spilling from your mouth. “God, no. I was going to ask if you’d like to come to the club later, all of the drivers are gonna be there to celebrate Lando’s win. It could be fun.”

You paused in your steps, brows furrowing as you felt a beam of energy climb up your spine. All of a sudden, your bed didn’t seem like the comfiest thing in the world and you were willing to exchange it for a pair of heels and a dress.

“I’d like that, yeah.” You smiled at Daniel and he reciprocated the gesture.

He gives you a piece of paper with something scribbled on it and you gladly pluck it from his fingers. “Shoot me a text when you’re ready, I’ll give you a ride to the club. Cheers.”

And with that, he disappeared into the car park, the only remainder of his friendly presence being his lingering smell in the air and the scribbled number on the back of a grocery store coupon.

“Thanks, mate.”

Lando’s hand felt heavy as he shook it with someone he barely knew, congratulating him on the win. He’s been stuck in this large group of people for way too long, desperately looking for an escape. And, eventually, he found it— you.

His eyes have been stuck to you for the past fifteen minutes, patiently waiting for the people to finish congratulating him so he could finally talk to you.

When the perfect moment arose, Lando swiftly shimmied between the dancing bodies and made his way to the bar. You were still sitting there, looking as beautiful as the last time he saw you, but now you were right in front of him and he didn’t know what to do with himself.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Lando’s voice startles you when he plops down in a bar stool beside you.

You smile at him, feeling the same anxiety crawl up your spine as the last time you saw him. “I’d say the same, but this feels like the perfect place for a race winner.”

“I honestly hated it before,” he shrugged, looking out into the crowd. “I used to party after a podium, second place being the best I’ve ever had.”

“But now you’re here as a winner.” You’re still looking at him when he turns back around. There’s something so nostalgic about the way he looks at you, almost as if you’ve already been there and seen him before. “A victory looks good on you.”

“Yeah?” He flashes a grin your way, raising a brow. “I’ll try to win more then. Maybe I’ll get to see you again that way.”

“I’m free whenever you want to see me,” you blurt. Lando’s eyebrows raise with surprise when you say that and he bursts into a small laugh when you start flailing your hands around in the air. “Sorry, that’s so unprofessional, I didn’t mean to–“

“It’s fine,” he assures you. “I was actually going to ask you if you wanted to get out of here. But that’s so unprofessional of me.”

“Mr. Norris!” You exclaim with a faux gasp. Lando watches with an amused grin on his face as you smile back at him. “I’d like that very much.”

It didn’t take long for both of you to swivel your way past the drunk people in the club and find yourselves in a cab. Lando’s hand made a home on your thigh and you didn’t mind. It felt warm, secure and turned you on when he inched it closer to the hem of your dress.

Time flew fast in the company of a race winner, especially one as charming and attractive as Lando. You didn’t realise how many hours had passed after you had left the club and, frankly, you didn’t really care.

The moments spent with him felt somehow nostalgic, as if you had felt this way before. But you’re sure you just dreamt it. There’s no way you’ve met Lando before and didn’t remember it.

It felt silly to think that, so you just ignored that thought and continued watching the intoxicating way his lips moved as he spoke. He’s been talking about something for the past five minutes and you didn’t hear a word of it, being far too focused on the pattern of his freckles, the dip of his nose and the gentleness of his eyes when he looked at you.

“What’s on your mind?” He asked, voice gentle and cautious.

You bit back a smile, eyes flickering between his eyes and lips. “You.”

The nostalgic feeling snuck its way into the back of your mind when he kissed you, his lips and hands feeling like a long lost home. You somehow already knew the melody of his breathing and the pattern of his hair, the familiarity of his kiss starting a fire in your chest. You felt the warmth of his lust spread through your torso, creeping up your neck, softly toying with the giggle in your throat.

Stars spackled on the inside of your eyelids and the harmonious sounds leaving your lips finally drew you back to that night.

Warm hands. Gentle strokes and soft kisses. Careful fingertips trailing their way down your hips. Lando’s tongue danced on your aching bud and you felt the whole world fade away. The mere touch of his fingers on your hips to keep you still reminded you of the last time.

“Mmh, fuck.” Lando hummed against you, the vibrations sending bolts of lightning through your veins. “So good. So fucking good for me, y/n.”

His tongue swirled around your throbbing clit, bringing you that much closer to the edge. The alcohol in your system mixed with the pleasure coursing through your body was a lethal combination. Your legs shook as you felt your walls close around nothing, Lando’s mouth attached to you as if he was a starved man and you were the first thing he could get his mouth on.

“I’m- I-” You couldn’t even finish your sentence before making a mess all over his goatee. He licked up every last bit of you, the sweet taste of you making a perfect combination with the aftertaste of whiskey in the back of his throat.

You stayed lying there, eyes fluttering closed and lips parted, deep breaths inflating your chest. Lando watched you, green eyes soaking in every inch of you— he wasn’t sure if you’d remember him this time, so he made the most of every moment spent with you.

After a while of him watching you, you felt Lando get up and come back in a few minutes, a damp towel in his hands. He touched your most sensitive parts with the weight of nothing, carefulness sewn into every movement he made. At that point, you were drifting in and out of consciousness, not fully knowing when the bed dipped under Lando’s weight again.

You felt his arms wrap around you and pull you in, the warmth of his bare skin heating your cheek. You were hesitant to speak, cautious as to not say something wrong. So, instead of speaking, you lifted your head and connected your lips with his again, the minty taste of his lips making you smile.

“It was you.”

Lando hummed into the kiss, as if to acknowledge that it was him, but also to ask what you meant.

You pulled away, fingers immediately making home in his curls. “That night.” A familiar look painted itself across Lando’s face. “I tried so hard to remember whose lips felt like home, and only the weight of yours reminded me.”

“You were thinking about me?” Lando inquired, brushing stray strands of hair away from your face.

You nodded. “Every day since that night.”

Lando smiled before kissing you again. “You never left my mind. I kept reminiscing that night, waiting for fate to magically bring us back to one another.” He whispered against your hairline, lips pressing soft, love-filled kisses against your skin. “Didn’t expect to win two prizes in one day.”

A small laugh slipped past your lips. “What a lucky man you are, Mr. Norris.”

“The luckiest.” He hummed. “Because I finally have you.”

[l0s3rd0wnt0wn]

the reader has each time that a member of her family tries to create a bond with her:I am not your pet, I never liked you, I don't care about you I won't wait for you. I hate you.

Yum, good soup!

They'll do anything to spend time with him. Bruce has never watched anime in his life, but you love *Ouran High School Host Club* and *Soul Eater*. With no choice, you watch with him, only for him to ask fifty or more questions. And you always end up leaving him behind in the dust. But he's trying; you're still his baby, even if you side with him like that.

Dick always wanted to help you out with your like a big brother should, showing you the way, but you growl like a wild animal if he gets close to curls. Sure, you let him put growth oil in your cornrows, but that's all he'll ever do. You avoid that man like he has cheese touch.

Jason hasn't been a teen in forever, maybe reading a comic or two and bonding with you about how stupid comics draw women or how ugly the super-realistic style is, just for readers to roll their eyes every time he speaks. Why is he talking to me? Come on, laugh at his jokes; he knows you, he's funny. Come in and giggle!

Tim, you both are nerds. Why don’t you guys play some D&D? "Nah, I have my own party." Tekken 8? Nah, you prefer MK. Come on, just hang out with him! Geeks stick together, but for some reason, you’d rather play with random online players. He’s literally the superior player, and he’s way cooler and funnier, so don’t ditch him for your friends—he's a better rival!

Damian, please, oh, please let him hang out with you. Let him be a little brother; let him ride on your back. Let him play video games with you. Let him come to your room when you have a night in, but you refuse; you blow him off like the plague. Don’t tell him you’re not free—he tracked your schedule!

Stephanie, let's go shopping, paint each other's nails, talk about our crazy crushes, go shopping, and max out Bruce's cards. Oh, you're busy? That's cool. Wait, all your friends are hanging out together, and you're going to Chuck E. Cheese? Why don't you let her join? Oh, you guys were planning this and you don't have an extra space? Maybe next time you'll spend time with your favorite gal pal.

Cass will psychoanalyze all the shonen you've ever watched. Even if it's unrealistic and people don't scream for 15 minutes and suddenly get powerful in the show. Oh, Kengan Ashura! Tell her about the lore and all the fighters; please talk to her about it. She'll pose like the fighters and recreate the moves for you. Come on, just hang out with her. She won't talk, or she'll talk your ear off, but your face of indifference tells her you really don't care; you'd rather watch something else. Fine, Cass will watch it with you.

Duke, come chill with him. Sure, you guys have only had two conversations, and so what? You can't have more? Listen to Kendrick with him; why don't you both bond over not liking and hating on Drake? Schoolboy Q shit. He'll even play Doechii's Chromakopia is out. Let's rap to Sticky. You don't fuck with that? Oh, it's cool; he'll listen to whatever you like. He'll do whatever you like! You guys can watch Boondocks together and make random references that only you two understand. Let him give you a retwist. Let him be your brother, but you'd rather hang out with some loser from your school? What's that about?

[thehighladywrites]

you’re just like me

pairing: cassian x crazy stalker reader

summary: cassian thinks of you as his insanely obsessive ex girlfriend who’s downright crazy. you are obviously cassian’s one true love and will eliminate anything that stands in your way.

warnings: murder, dark romance, cheeky little twist👀, stalking, obsessive behavior, sexual content, knives, nasty sex, um also a sick way of getting off just downright crazy, description of murder… um this is just kinda dark. two psychos encouraging each other

amara’s note: so i might be making this into a series bc i have an amazing idea for azriel next😫😫😫 also guys this was a lil dark lol

You couldn’t understand how Cassian had the nerve to walk away from you. There was absolutely nothing wrong with you, not one single thing. People just didn’t get it; love was supposed to be all-consuming, right? Obsession wasn’t a flaw. It was just proof you cared deeply. So what if you knew his schedule down to the minute, memorized the exact scent of his shampoo, or followed him everywhere he went like your very existence depended on it? That wasn’t weird, it was love. Real, burning, raw love.

Cassian must have been confused, that’s all. Poor thing, probably led astray by some outside influence. Maybe someone whispered lies into his ear or cast some strange spell over his mind. Yeah, that had to be it, because Cassian did love you. He did. He just needed to wake up and realize it again.

And when he did , he’d thank you for never letting go, for being the one person who truly saw him, who loved him without limits.

Seeing Cassian sitting next to some water-wraith makes your heart pound harder and harder, fury bubbling under your skin. That’s it — that’s why he hasn’t been his usual self. That wretched wraith is manipulating him, filling his head with filthy lies about you. Poisoning what was meant to be perfect.

You have to stop this. You have to save him. And the only way to do that is to get rid of her. Permanently.

Your hands itch for action, and you’re already stepping forward when a hand clamps around your wrist.

“Are you about to go over to Cassian?” Feyre’s calm voice cuts through your haze of rage. “Don’t cause a scene.”

You tilt your head, offering her a polite smile. “I don’t know what you mean. I’m simply going to claim what is rightfully mine.”

You tug at her grip, but it holds firm. Feyre’s eyes narrow. “Not so fast. You know Cassian will think you’re crazy if you kill her right here and now.”

Your breath catches. How the hell did she know? Were you that obvious?

Before you can respond, she steps closer, her intoxicating perfume filling your senses. Her voice, low and smooth, sends shivers down your spine.

“If you want that little whore gone, gut her like a fucking fish. I’ll even help you. But not now, it’ll look bad for us.”

Your eyes widen slightly. Never in a million years would you have expected Feyre to suggest murder.

“Why are you so interested in me killing her?” you ask, voice curious.

A wicked smile curls at her lips before she presses a quick kiss to your cheek. “That little bitch tried to fuck Rhys right in front of me. Didn’t even bother pretending she didn’t know who I was. She didn’t care. And now I want her gone.”

Her voice cracks with a manic edge before she smooths it over, composure snapping neatly back into place.

She was just like you, a comfort you took pleasure in, someone who understood that love was meant to be fierce, consuming, and without limits.

—

You did exactly what Feyre suggested — waited until the big meeting with all the courts had ended, biding your time until the wraith was on her way back to Spring. She was alone, vulnerable, just as you had hoped.

Before she could winnow away, you struck. Kidnapping her had been easy, far too easy. And then came the best part: stabbing her over and over until you were drenched in her warm blood. Her look of terror sent a sick thrill down your spine, flipping your stomach in delight. Fuck, it felt good to finally get rid of her. Like being on edge for an eternity and finally getting the sweet, blissful relief you'd craved.

You cleaned up meticulously, disposing of every shred of evidence. No one would ever find her.

Winnowing back to Velaris, you appeared just outside Cassian’s house, dagger still in hand. Breaking in through your usual route was second nature by now. You settled yourself on his sofa, waiting patiently like you always did when he needed a gentle reminder of who truly belonged to him.

The door creaked open, and Cassian trudged inside, shoulders sagging with exhaustion. Normally, you'd feel a pang of sympathy for how hard he worked — how much he gave of himself. But not tonight. Tonight, you were kinda pissed.

His eyes flicked toward you, squinting in the dim light. He hesitated, unsure of who he was looking at until he flipped the lights on.

The color drained from his face as he stumbled backward, eyes wide with shock. “What the hell?” His voice wavered. “What are you doing here?”

You tilted your head, offering a sweet, unwavering smile. “Hi, Cassian. Done being a manwhore? Ready to come back to your senses?”

His gaze darted to the blood soaking your clothes, the gleaming dagger in your hand. He shook his head in disbelief, taking another step back, as if distance could protect him from you.

“I said, what are you doing here?” His voice hardens, sharp and commanding.

Yours matches his, cold and steady. “Well, since you seem to be under some delusion that you can get away from me, I figured I’d burst your little bubble and remind you that’s not the case.”

A calm smile spreads across your lips as you lift the dagger, pointing it directly at him. The weight of it feels right in your hand, steady and sure.

Cassian’s chest rises and falls as tension coils through the room. “You’re insane,” he mutters, disbelief lacing every word.

“Call it what you want. Call it love, call it obsession. Call me fucking insane,” you say, taking a slow step forward. “But you belong to me, Cassian. Always have. Always will.”

You shake your head and laugh, a hollow, unsettling sound. “Gods, Cassian. I don't know why you're doing this to me. Stop being so damn difficult and realize there's no one else for you. That water-wraith slut sure knows it now.”

His face goes pale, a hand pressing against his chest. “W-what are you talking about? You... you killed her?” he asks, horrified.

“Sure did.” You smile sweetly, tilting your head. “And I'll end anyone you think can take my place. Am I clear? Either you realize it now, or I keep killing people. It's all up to you.” You shrug nonchalantly, inspecting your nails as if this conversation were about the weather.

There's a long silence, thick with tension, and then something changes.

His voice drops, lower and rougher. “Took you long enough.”

Your head snaps up, eyes narrowing in confusion. His pale, horrified expression has melted away, replaced by something darker, more primal. His eyes gleam with something unholy, and his mouth twists into a cruel, wicked smile.

“Was wondering when you’d kill that little wraith,” he says smoothly, his voice dripping with amusement. “Gods know it was hard feigning interest.”

A warmth spreads through your chest, almost dizzying. Was this a dream? No way. Cassian matching your intensity, your madness — that was only supposed to happen in fantasies.

“What?” you whisper, barely believing what you’re hearing.

He steps closer, eyes gleaming darkly. “Didn’t think I noticed your stalking? Or the way you conveniently disposed of anyone I talked to?” His smirk widens, sharp and dangerous. “The way you just happened to show up at places I had scheduled? I’ve been onto you since day one.”

Your breath catches, heart thundering. “And?”

“And I knew you were the one the day you snuck into my room and stared at me, thinking I didn’t know,” he murmurs, eyes burning into yours with dark satisfaction.

A shiver runs down your spine, both thrilled and unhinged by his words. “You knew?”

He leans in closer, voice low and possessive. “Of course I knew. Your heavy breathing was a dead giveaway, sweetheart. You looked like you were seconds away from crawling into bed with me.”

You grin, eyes gleaming with madness. “I almost did.”

And it was true. He had been shirtless, skin smooth and golden in the moonlight, hair tied back so his sharp, handsome features were perfectly highlighted. Only years of discipline had kept you rooted to the spot instead of crawling into bed with him like you’d wanted to.

His smile deepens, dark and taunting. “You should’ve.” He steps closer, voice dropping to a low, sinful whisper. “Not the Gods themselves could have pulled me away.”

Your pulse races, wild and electric. This was so not fucking happening. “Don’t tempt me.”

“I’m not tempting you, my love.” he says, eyes gleaming with something dangerous. “I’m inviting you.”

He looks down at you, hands settling on your hips as he pulls you so close. Cassian’s heat makes your brain go fuzzy and for a moment you’re lost. Just as he is about to kiss you…

”Wait. So you felt the same I did? Why did you act all high and mighty when you’re literally worse than me?” You step back and raise an eyebrow at him, arms crossed over your chest.

Cassian blinks, clearly taken aback by your sudden outburst, but instead of guilt or surprise softening his expression, something darker gleams in his eyes — intrigue, even delight. “You’re mad at me, baby?”

“Of course I’m mad!” you snap, practically vibrating with frustration. “You knew I’m bsessed with you, and instead of saying anything, you just sat there, playing with me, making me feel insane.”

Your grip on the dagger tightens in pure frustration. “Do you know how many nights I spent plotting ways to keep you? How much blood I spilled thinking you didn’t care?”

His lips twitch, eyes filled with dark amusement.

“You could’ve just matched my crazy from day one, but nooo, you had to be all stoic and mysterious. Gods, Cassian, that’s infuriating.”

He steps closer, his voice low and dangerous. “You’re adorable when you’re pissed off, ya know? A cute, hotheaded little thing.”

“Adorable? I should stab you,” you snarl, but he only grins wider.

“Do it,” he whispers, his voice dripping with challenge. “I’d love to see what happens next.”

Your breath catches, heart racing as his words sink in. Cassian wasn’t just tolerating your madness, he wanted it, thrived on it, matched it beat for beat.

The realization sends a dizzy thrill through you, but you pout anyway, refusing to let him off the hook that easily. “You’re the worst,” you grumble, turning your head away with a dramatic huff.

He chuckles darkly, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you flush against him. “I was only interesed in seeing how far you’d go. Didn’t know if you’d run for the hills when I told you I murdered Helion’s advicer for looking at you yesterday.”

Your heart skips a beat, then thunders wildly in your chest. A sharp, wicked grin tugs at your lips despite yourself. “You did that?”

“Snapped his neck right before breakfast. Or did I feed him his own fingers then strangle him with his insides? Can’t say I remember.”

A sick thrill courses through you. Man, he was fucking perfect. It was so fucking wrong but your knees went weak and you started throbbing. He killed someone just for staring at you?

That was actually hot.

—

With no surprise, cassian fucked you for so long, so hard so fucking deep. It was so nasty, a reaaaal mess. one hand of his grabs onto your thigh, another gripping your waist while he’s glancing down at your sloppy cunt, what a masterpiece. Cassian decided he needed to see better so he pulled out as you whimpered pathetically.

his fingers smear his oozing cum all over you, from the slit all the way to your, swollen, throbbing clit.

“look at you makin’ a damn mess.” Your shaky hands gripping his wide shoulders start to slip. His arm tightens around your waist before you fall backwards. “fuckkkk, baby, look at how good your pussy was takin’ me, see how fucking wet she is?” you shudder as his fingers go knuckle deep into your cunt, giving you a few pumps before he pulls it right out, stringy wetness coating them.

he places two thick fingers inside of your mouth, you suck them clean whilst still moving against him, silently pleading for him to fill you out.

“shiiit, not fair. you got these killer hips that’ll dumb down any man.” Cassian finally fills you up again, his fat cock gliding against ypur wall just right. “oh-fuckkkk thaaat’s it, slow baby. slow, fuck me good, yeah?”

Cassian’s breath hitches as you tighten around him, his arm hurling behind the headboard. the desperation of having something to hold on to gives you an ego boost. was your just pussy too damn good?

“c-cas,” you moan, feeling his big fingers stroke their way against your waist to the very undersides of your thighs. you made sure to go slow, slow and steady just like he wanted. cassian’s got a sleazy grin, feeling the wetness of your cunt take him with all its might. “g-gonna cum!”

“i can tell, ah shit— you’re squeezin’ the fuck outta me,” He grunts in response as he feels you writhing, groaning at the gummy texture of your walls mightily gripping around him tight.

But it’s not enough. The rush lingers, addictive and gnawing, and you want more — need more. Something to cling to, something to burn into your memory for the rest of the week. A painfully sweet reminder of just how far you’ll both go for each other.

Your lips curl into a sly smile, voice dropping into a breathy tease. Finally, you’d lock in one last time to see if he was really as crazy as you. “Do you want to know,” You pause, your breath hitching in pleasure, “how it felt to kill t-that wraith?”

Cassian’s entire body tenses, his pupils dilating as a spark of something wild flickers in his eyes. His pulse kicks up, thrumming like a war drum. Fuck yeah, he wanted to know. Every sickening, twisted detail. Morality be damned—this was love.

“Tell me,” he demands, voice low and raw, filled with a dark hunger.

You grin wickedly, savoring his reaction. “It was beautiful,” you whimper, letting the memory flood your senses. “The way her breath hitched when she realized she was going to die? Gods, Cassian, it was intoxicating. She looked so helpless.”

His breath shudders as he pumps harder, his voice gravelly. “What did you feel?”

A dark satisfaction blooms in your chest. “Relief,” you murmur. “Pure relief. Like I’d been waiting forever and I was free.”

Cassian’s eyes burn into yours, his lips curling into a slow, dangerous smile. “You’re perfect,” he whispers. “Absolutely perfect. Absolutely mine.”

Your heart races as you lean in, lips hovering near his ear. “Next time,” you purr, “I’ll let you watch then fuck me right there.”

That’s it. Those few sadistic words are all the power he needs to finish you both off.

“you’re a nasty fucking girl—ughhhh.”

his speed had the bed creaking louder, and cassian’s grunting in your ear was getting louder as you were feeling fuller than ever. with hot pounds of skin against skin roughly slapping against each other after each second, the two of you felt the same pangs of pleasure and fervent dizziness. “inside, cas—fuck, cum inside me!” before an inevitable flood of heavenly pleasure consumes you both.

your cunt throbs the second he spills an entire whopping load inside of you raw, and you nuzzle your face into his neck. “cas—,” you stammer, and your walls were oh so greedy, adjusting to the way your pussy convulses around him, sharp nails dragging over his back. you both cum together as a surge of electricity pulses through each of your veins.

“fuck… ya better take every drop, s-shit,” he groans before slumping back against the headboard, tugging you closer so your face rests on his neck.

This was absolutely perfect. Cassian was yours now—forever. He could never leave you. And if he tried? You wouldn’t just kill him; you’d burn the entire world down with him. If you couldn’t have him, no one could. He simply wouldn’t exist without you.

That was love.

And Cassian being utterly, unapologetically insane? A gift wrapped in chaos. He understood you better than anyone ever could. Maybe you’d push him, see just how far that darkness in him stretched. Because Cassian didn’t get jealous—he got even. He got murderous.

“I love you, Cassian. So, so much,” you sob into his neck, your body trembling under the weight of the confession.

“I know you do,” he rasps, his voice rough as he grabs a blanket, wrapping it around your shivering form. His strong arms envelop you completely, his touch obsessive, possessive. His hand trails down your hair and back with agonizing tenderness as though memorizing every inch of you.

But something gnaws at you—a flicker of unease. Why wasn’t he saying it back? Did he need more proof that you were his literal wife(even if he didn’t know it yet), his reason for fucking breathing?

As if sensing your doubt, his grip tightens, pulling you even closer until you could hear the rapid, frantic beat of his heart. His lips brush against your ear, his voice low and raw, trembling with emotion.

“There are no words for what I feel for you,” he says, voice breaking. “Love is too weak, too pitiful. What I feel for you—gods, it devours me whole. It’s a sickness, an obsession that digs its claws into me and never lets go. You are everything. My breath, my blood, my madness.”

His words crash over you, wild and terrifying and utterly beautiful. And you know—he belongs to you as much as you belong to him.

Always.

[moonstruckme]

Hey Mae <3 if you’re open to it, would you write Spencer reassuring shy reader or reader who is still in grad school and is feeling insecure about her intelligence compared to him/the rest of the team. anyway I love how you write Spencer tytyty <3

Thanks for requesting gorgeous <3

cw: vague discussion of homicide crime scene, reader is a bit intellectually insecure, written with a fem reader in mind

Spencer Reid x intern!reader ♡ 754 words

You’re talking to yourself. You do this, sometimes, Spencer doesn’t think you even really mean to. It’ll just be a word here or there, a murmured maybe as you ponder a case or shit when you fill out a form wrong and have to get another. You’d done it in front of Derek once, and even he’d had the good sense not to tease you about it; you’re too green, still, too nervous for good-natured joking. 

The police station is mostly empty, the rest of the team having called it a night except for you and Spencer. In the past twenty minutes, as you’ve swivel in your chair and peered at the board with hawk-like intensity, it’s been no, but if…, and unless? Spencer tries not to let it distract him, but it is cute, the way you seem to be talking yourself in and out of theories, using yourself as your own sounding board. He’s never met an intern—a student, nonetheless—less eager to get to their FBI-bankrolled hotel room. 

It’s when you shake your head at yourself, seemingly dismissing an idea, and mutter stupid, that’s when Spencer steps in. 

“What is it?” he asks. 

You jolt and turn your head like you’d forgotten he was there. “Huh?” 

“You seem like you have an idea.” 

“Oh, I was…it wasn’t anything.” You have one foot on the ground, the other pulled up onto your chair with you, and you’re using it to swivel your seat back and forth restlessly. It’s almost funny; Spencer doesn’t understand how anyone could ever be nervous around him, but you are. You are around the whole team. You’re quiet most of the time, looking at them all with wide eyes and palpable awe while they analyze and ideate. It’s sweet, but also baffling, considering you’re fiercely intelligent yourself. 

Spencer smiles at you. Your lips curve in kind, like they’re not entirely sure why but are relieved to do it. 

“I’d still like to hear it,” he says. 

You visibly shrink, leg pulling closer to you in your seat. “I was just, um, starting to think that maybe the way he laid out the second victim could be a sign of remorse, but then I realized it couldn’t be, because of—”

“The dump site,” Spencer finishes with you. 

You nod, looking abashed. “Right. So, obviously not.” 

“That’s not obvious,” Spencer says. He looks at the board, tapping his thumb on his jaw. “We haven’t been looking at the way the second victim was positioned, there could be something to that.” 

You blink. “Really?”

“Yeah. Why didn’t you say anything?” 

“I—well, sorry. I just didn’t think there was anything to say. I didn’t want to sound dumb.” 

You cringe like you hadn’t meant to say it. Spencer feels his brows twitch together, though it’s not like the explicit admission surprises him when you’ve effectively been saying it in a thousand implicit ways since he met you. He has the strange urge to reach over and put a hand on your shoulder. It's not like him, so he doesn’t. 

“We all have theories that don’t pan out,” he says, “all the time. We just bounce them off the team anyway in case it leads to another idea.” 

Your smile is almost rueful. “You don’t.” 

Spencer actually laughs. “I do. It’s possible you just haven’t been around long enough to notice.” 

Your head tilts sideways as though contemplating this. It makes your body list slightly in the chair, your leg resting against the cushioned arm. You look more at ease than you did a minute before, softer, the furrow of concentration easing from between your brows. Spencer’s chest feels light and airy without reason.

“It’s not dumb, to have an idea that doesn’t turn into anything,” he tells you gently. “No one in our team would think that.” 

“I know,” you say, sheepish now. “You guys just know so much, I don’t know how to contribute.”

“It comes with experience,” Spencer assures you. “You’ll pick it up quickly, I can tell. You already are.” 

You smile again. It’s more relaxed than before, a bashful pride shining in your eyes. Spencer props his cheek on his fist, mirroring it thoughtlessly. You look tired, though no less pretty for it, the beckoning of sleep gentle in your features. If Spencer was less selfish he’d probably tell you to go back to the hotel, but normally he’s the only one who never manages to use his room during these trips. He finds he really enjoys the company.

[bestalbertcamuslover]

Retirement Temptations

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶

✯ pairing: Max Verstappen x GF! Reader ✯

✯ content warnings: None✯

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶

As she stepped into their apartment, shrugging off her coat and kicking off her low black heels, she barely had a moment to breathe before Max spoke.

“I just don’t understand,” he said, watching her intently, his tone both curious and fond.

She chuckled, rolling her shoulders to shake off the weight of the day. “First, hi. And what is it that’s so impossible to understand?”

Max was already closing the distance between them, his hands finding their way to her hips, warm and familiar, as he pulled her against him. “Why you keep working,” he murmured, pressing a light kiss to her forehead. “Just leave it. I maintain you.”

She let out a soft laugh, resting her hands on his chest. “Max.”

“I’m serious,” he insisted, but there was a teasing glint in his eyes. “You’re always saying how stressful it is, how exhausted you are. You don’t need it. I don’t need it. I just want you happy.”

She softened, brushing a hand through his hair. “Babe, I love my job.”

His brow lifted, unconvinced. “You love the thing that keeps you at the office late? That makes you groan in frustration when emails won’t stop coming in? That has you collapsing onto the couch the second you walk through the door?”

She let out a small hum, pretending to consider it. “When you put it like that…”

He smirked, pleased with himself. “See?”

She shook her head, smiling. “But it also excites me, makes me feel like I’m doing something worthwhile. And I love that feeling.”

Max exhaled, his fingers grazing soothing circles against her waist. “You know what else is worthwhile? Waking up slow, spending the whole day together, traveling wherever we want, whenever we want.”

She laughed softly, tilting her head. “You paint a very nice picture.”

“I do drive for a living,” he teased, grinning when she rolled her eyes at the pun. His voice softened then, thumb grazing her cheek. “I just don’t like seeing you so drained. I wish I could make it easier for you.”

She melted at his words, pressing a kiss to his lips, slow and sweet. “You already do., but yeah, I’m not leaving my job.”

Max huffed, though there was no real exasperation behind it, just that playful stubbornness he always had when he wanted something. His fingers tightened slightly on her waist as he leaned in, resting his forehead against hers.

“Oh, come on,” he murmured, voice low, teasing. “Just think about it—waking up whenever you want, no meetings, no deadlines… just me, all day, every day.”

She snorted. “Wow, you really know how to sell it.”

His lips twitched into a smirk. “I do my best.”

She let her fingers trail up the back of his neck, tilting her head as if considering it. “Hmm, a man maintaining a woman… kinda vintage of you, don’t you think? Very 1950s housewife. Should I start greeting you at the door in a dress and pearls with a martini in hand?”

Max let out a laugh, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t say no to that.”

She gasped, playfully pushing at his chest. “Oh my God, you are sexist!”

“I am not!” he defended, grinning. “I just think you work too hard, and I happen to be very rich. It’s called efficiency.”

She laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Well, Mr. Efficiency, I like my job, and I like working, so you’re just gonna have to suffer through it.”

He sighed dramatically, squeezing her closer. “Fine. But don’t expect me to stop trying to convince you.”

She grinned, pressing another kiss to his lips. “I’d be disappointed if you did.”

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶

✯ authors note: English is not my first language and I hope you liked it <3

[idkshithead]

⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ 𓊆ྀི gi-hun headcanons! 𓊇ྀི

·˚ ༘ — pairing: seong gi-hun x fem!reader

—❕warnings: nsfw content, mentions of trauma and insomnia (slightly), gi-hun being a cutie pookie patootie that i actually giggled and kicked my feet while writing this. i love him sm

｡𖦹°‧ sfw!:

season 1

— 𐙚 your relationship with gi-hun is a “pretty gf, obsessed bf” typa thing. he’d do anything for you. literally. you have cramps during your period? no problem cause he’s already out buying your favorite sweets. you don’t feel good about yourself all of a sudden? no worries cause he’ll sit you on his lap reminding you of how beautiful you are, of how much he loves you (and of how much you turn him on).

— 𐙚 s1 gi-hun is def the jealous type. mostly because he knows he’s not the perfect man to date due to all his family and financial problems so every time he sees a guy approaching you, maybe even good-looking, he’ll definitely pout: either he comes closer and grasps your waist tightly to show him you’re his, or he’ll just be silent and pretend to mind his business even tho he’s hurting inside cause he’s afraid you’ll replace him.

— 𐙚 later you’ll eventually tease him and tell him about how cute it is when he acts all jealous even when he tries to deny it. loves when you ruffle his hair/pinch his cheeks/cover his face in kisses to reassure him.

— 𐙚 s1 gi-hun is the type of man who really wants to spoil you with expensive gifts to make you happy but knows he can’t because of his lack of money. tries to make it up to you with simple dates (pic-nics, late night walks/drives, cuddle sessions etc.) even tho you tell him you don’t care about gifts and that you like simple actions. he’ll keep that in mind and will eventually start giving you picked-up flowers or short handwritten letters.

— 𐙚 s1 gi-hun’s life felt so much brighter when he met you and he couldn’t tell why. your presence just made him feel warm in his chest and he would remind you every. single. day.

— 𐙚 would definitely hug you from behind while you cook and start kissing your neck. later he would pick you up and sit you on the kitchen counter and start making out/cuddle with you while he whispers how much you mean to him etc. will make you promise to never leave him.

— 𐙚 one thing you ABSOLUTELY love about gi-hun, is his hair. it’s so fluffy and soft that you wanna touch it every minute of the day. in rough days he loves to lay on your thighs while you caress his scalp, play with strands of his hair to relax him until he’ll eventually fall asleep.

— 𐙚 s1 gi-hun would let you meet his daughter almost immediately cause when he met you first, he knew you would be the one. when he sees you get along really well with her he would smile like an idiot cause he loves to see the 2 most important girls of his life talking/having fun together.

season 2

— 𐙚 hate to say this, but s2 gi-hun is a whole different person. he’s not the smiley guy he once was and stay sure that he WILL be over protective, over possessive, over everything. can you blame him tho? he got traumatized so no, you can’t. he’s just afraid you’ll get in trouble as well.

— 𐙚 s2 gi-hun will definitely check on you every. damn. minute. he can’t find you? he’ll spam call you till you answer. you don’t answer his calls cause you’re out and can’t hear your phone? h’ell put on the gps in his car and come find you.

— 𐙚 at first you argued with him many times cause it became overwhelming. you basically couldn’t even go out with your old friend cause he’ll call you every 30 minutes and stuff. you didn’t want to get mad at him cause it wasn’t his fault, he just went through a lot and was worried for you.

— 𐙚 when you got mad, tho, you felt guilty not even a second later cause he looked at you with a sad and hurt expression and said: “i’m sorry. i just over worry and can’t stay calm when you’re out alone.”

— 𐙚 you’d tell him you understand but still you’re an independent woman and can defend yourself. (you’re lying cause deep down you like it when he worries a lot about you. but not in an obsessive/unhealthy way.). you will definitely cuddle him after that.

— 𐙚 s2 gi-hun never sleeps at night cause he feels the need to look after you while you sleep. he still feels like he’s in that room, keeping watch of bastards that could attack and kill you. if he manages to fall asleep, he’ll wake up in the middle of the night due to the nightmares. in those nights, you are the one who doesn’t sleep to look after him.

— 𐙚 he still loves to hug you from behind while you do stuff but also loves when you are the one to do so. he’s not as talkative as before so while old gi-hun would whisper loving sentences to you, present gi-hun just wants to feel the moment. he would bury his face into your neck and stay silent as you caress his hair and kiss it while he rubs your back and holds you tight.

— 𐙚 s2 gi-hun likes slow mornings. while in s1 he would go out to gamble/work and you would work too, now he likes to take his time to wake up to cuddle you, kiss you. just wants to enjoy his time with you, especially in weekends.

— 𐙚 s2 gi-hun would still take you out to late night walks/drives to relieve stress from both of you. his old manners of showing you his love are still the same: simple actions/gifts, physical touch etc.

｡𖦹°‧ nsfw!:

season 1:

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 the first time you two made love was quite embarrassing for him cause he hadn’t touched a woman in years after his ex wife(that is something that every gi-hun fan thinks lol😭). he was really scared to hurt you or make you uncomfortable but once you reassure him he will make sure he’ll be the best sex you’ve ever had.

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 s1 gi-hun will definitely cum really fast the first times cause he just can’t control himself with you. he doesn’t even make it on purpose but that man is able to cum in his pants by you just grinding on his lap.

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 s1 gi-hun is the type of man that really doesn’t care about sex. he’s not a really “horny-guy” cause he thinks sex is not that important in a relationship but since he met you he gets hard often times and can’t control it.

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 s1 gi-hun would think he’s not that good in bed but god, the way you moan his name or just moan in pleasure makes his ego reach the stars. he thinks he’s not that big but doesn’t realize that even common size (14/15cm) actually is.

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 s1 gi-hun def talks you through it. would tell you how much you turn him on, would tell you how good you feel around him and would tell you how good you are for him. loves to praise you during it.

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 i feel like he LOVES blowjobs. they make him feel so damn horny and he doesn’t know why himself. probably is the way your pretty, innocent eyes look at him while your lips are wrapped around his length, pleasuring him.

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 gi-hun is clearly noisy. be prepared to hear him moan even if you just move your ass while sitting on his lap.

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 forget about degrading names/praises. will def not call you a “whore, slut, pathetic” etc, not even if you ask him. he’s just not that kind of man and it makes him uncomfortable

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 once you’re done, even if he’s dead tired, he won’t get in bed before making sure you’re all cleaned and feeling as comfy as possible. you chuckle almost every time and tell him to just lay with you and that you’ll take a shower later.

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 thinks he needs to be the big spoon cause he’s the “man of the relationship” but loves to be the small spoon as well. depends on who needs more cuddles after that. if he’s the big spoon, he’ll lay you on his chest, pull the blanket over your bodies and rub your skin, whisper loving words till you both fall asleep.

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 if he’s the small spoon he’ll be the one to lay on your chest and shyly ask you to caress his head/play with his hair cause it relaxes him. you can’t help the cuteness so you just roughly grab his face and kiss him nonstop. you’ll apologize later and both end up chuckling. likes when you rub his bare back with the other hand as well. will fall asleep immediately cause your heartbeat helps him relax.

season 2:

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 s2 gi-hun would prefer blowjobs even more since he can’t sleep and is really tired most of times. he loves when you help him relax with that and loves it even more when you’re the one to initiate first cause he feels shy to just ask you to make him cum. thinks it’s inappropriate.

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 s2 gi-hun loves lazy and slow sex (unless he had a really bad day), prefers when you ride him cause it’s hotter to see your breast bouncing and stuff. will grasp your waist/hips gently and guide you through it while he praises you.

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 he may not be as noisy as before but will never stop praising you. he realized he loves it even more when you are the one to praise him. sentences like: “fuck, you’re so good, gi-hun” or “you make me feel so good” make him cum immediately.

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 will def ask you to do that again cause he LOVES to hear how good he makes you feel and how loved you feel even when your sex is not romantic and slow.

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 if you’re not in the mood he’ll immediately pull away and apologize 5 times in a second cause he doesn’t wanna make you feel uncomfortable in any way. you smile and reassure him and then promise him to do it later (if you’re in the mood ofc).

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 will feel guilty cause he feels like he’s forcing you but you remind him that if you didn’t want to, you wouldn’t cause yes you love him with your whole being, but will never do something you feel uncomfortable with. especially if it’s related to intimacy.

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 most of the times it will start by you massaging his shoulders cause they’re so tense. then you would start kissing his neck, make out and it will lead to bed.

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 will praise you with nicknames like: “such a good girl for me, hun.” or “you’re so tight, sweetheart.” if you call his name he would respond with: “yes m’am?” cause he’s such a gentleman and loves to respect his woman.

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 s2 gi-hun also loves missionary cause he needs to look at your pretty face and all the cute and horny expressions you make when he makes you reach the stars. would definitely kiss your neck/jawline/cheeks while he praises you.

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 s2 gi-hun enjoys every type of quickies. on the kitchen counter when you cook? definitely. in the shower? always. in the car after a long late night drive? sure, why not. in the dressing room when you go shopping? loves the risk.

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 when you do quickies in public he’d cover your mouth with his big hand and loves the sight of it. the way you try to keep quiet, the way you close your eyes to focus on not being noisy, your flustered cheeks. it turns him on even more.

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 s2 gi-hun thinks aftercare is the most important thing. probably like it even more than sex itself. he wants to be the big spoon always but when you manage to convince him to be the small one, he would act as if he could accidentally hurt you.

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 you would play with his short hair and kiss his head while you tell him how good he made you feel cause he’ll ask you if you liked it. if you would tell him that something made you uncomfortable he probably won’t touch you in “that way” for weeks. to the point you’d ask him if he still loves you cause you think he got tired of you.

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 will look at you with an expression that clearly says “are you okay?” and then immediately reassure you and apologize for being a jerk.

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 i feel like gi-hun hates porn and wouldn’t watch them not even if he got paid. thinks they’re too unrealistic and stupid. plus, he has you so what’s the point in watching other naked women having sex? not his thing, really hates it.

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 doesn’t feel the need to jerk off when you’re not around, he’ll just wait till you come back if he needs it. would do that only if he’s desperate af.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ — a/n: soo here are few of my headcanons for this little cutie pie. idk if some of these are similar to others or something but if so, i’m so sorry, i didn’t copy anyone nor i inspired by anyone, i made them in my head based on my hc/scenarios😭 anyway i hope you enjoy reading this🥹

[checkeredflagggs]

Febuwhump Day 3: Pinned Down

pairings: gen

summary: a story about y/n, Redbull’s new second driver, told in non-sequential order

a/n: I love febuwhump and have participated before for other fandoms but this is a first for me — attempting to compete it via smau only. Hopefully I can write a complete story eventually and I will be posting it on its own masterlist in the correct order to read but it’ll be written based on the febuwhump prompt list! @febuwhump

a/n2: based on the 2024 year; sorry checo but you got replaced earlier!

y/n_rb

liked by redbullracing, maxverstappen1, and 1,231,245 others

y/n_rb: let’s do it babes! One last race before summer break!

view all comments

user1: getting a dose of Senioritis here?

↳y/n_rb: NO! In fact I’m counting down the days till I can get BACK into the car again and break hasn’t even started!

↳y/n_rb: and stop calling me old!!

maxverstappen1: Show them how it’s done!

↳y/n_rb: oh you know it!

redbullracing: get it girl!

↳y/n_rb: 🏆🏆🏆🏆 getting it!

↳y/n_rb: ^^^ all my trophies thank you

↳user2: yeah!!! Show them them at you’ve been getting it already!

↳y/n_rb: 👈🏻😎👉🏻

logansargeant: one last weekend before I get a break from seeing you? Thank you 🙏

↳y/n_rb: you’d think right?

↳logansargeant: …what do you mean?

↳y/n_rb: 🤭🤭🤭🤭

↳logansargeant: WHAT DOES THIS MEAN??

↳user3: so slay of her to menace everyone liked by y/n_rb

fernandoalo_oficial: ¡Lo harás genial, chico! you'll do great, kid!

↳user4: isn’t it so nice seeing 2 rookies get along?

↳user5: there’s no way that old man is a rookie???

↳y/n_rb: YOU TAKE THAT BACK! HE’S A ROOKIE!

↳y/n_rb: Mr. Fernando sir of course. I’ll do you proud 🫡

↳fernandoalo_oficial: ¿Sabes que puedes llamarme solo Fernando? you know you can call me just Fernando?

↳y/n_rb: I don’t think you understand how much I can’t do that. Thanks 😊

↳user6: wait you speak Spanish? I just realized

↳y/n_rb: while you were busy goofing off, I studied the blade (Mr. Fernando)

↳user6: iconic actually

f1

liked by user, user, user, and 2,234,123 others

tagged: y/n_rb, lewishamilton, fernandoalo_oficial

f1: and that’s contact. y/n_rb was pinned down between the wall and lewishamilton who himself was boxed in by fernandoalo_oficial. This marks the end of the race for y/n_rb. No contact has been made from y/n_rb yet.

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user7: Jesus…

↳user8: I hope she’s ok. That crash was bad, bad

user9: it’s been almost 2 minutes and they still don’t have word from her…

↳user10: the marshals are booking it to her

↳user11: why did it take so long????? She slammed into that wall so hard

user12: air support has apparently been called for

↳user13: it’s that bad?

↳user12: her car is all over the track and she STILL hasn’t responded

↳user14: they’ve called the race for it

↳user15: good god finally

user16: this is either gonna be the best day of her life or the worst

↳user17: we don’t even know if she’s ok?

↳user16: she crashed with Lewis Hamilton and Fernando Alonso though

↳user17: …ok you might be on to something

↳user18: let’s be real — she’d probably comment something like “my fav threesome”

↳user16: 😂

↳user17: that does seem like her

user20: it’s been a couple of hours — is there still no word?

↳user21: logansargeant posted something. Apparently he’s at a hospital — I’m assuming it’s for her

logansargeant

liked by lewishamilton, fernandoalo_oficial, maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri, and 1,928,333 others

tagged: y/n_rb

logansargeant: still no news but I’ve been told that’s a good thing?

view all comments

user22: keeping y/n_rb in our thoughts!

lewishamilton: where?

↳logansargeant: check the group chat — I’ve sent the location

↳lewishamilton: on my way

↳fernandoalo_oficial: mismo same

user23: thanks for the update Logan!

oscarpiastri: need anything before I come?

↳logansargeant: my bag?

↳oscarpiastri: 👍🏻. Food?

↳logansargeant: shockingly good here

francisca.cgomes: dis-moi — est-ce que mon amour va vraiment bien? tell me — is my love really ok?

↳logansargeant: as y/n would say — babe you’ll be the first person I text (when I finally can)

↳pierregasly: are you…are you helping y/n steal my girlfriend? (Merci de nous tenir au courant. Thanks for keeping us in the loop.)

↳logansargeant: (channeling y/n) our girlfriend Frenchie 🤝

↳francisca.cgomes: ma chérie…

↳pierregasly: 🙄🙄

charles_leclerc: leo is ready and waiting to give healing kisses when able too

↳logansargeant: careful there — she might try to steal your dog

↳pierregasly: she might try to steal your girlfriend too

↳charles_leclerc: …noted

↳alexandrasaintmleux: oh? 🤨

↳charles_leclerc: nothing to see here

maxverstappen1: Tell y/n_rb that Jimmy and Sassy (the #1 pets) are waiting for her back in Monaco 🇲🇨

↳charles_leclerc: Siri how do you say “you’re wrong” in Dutch?

↳maxverstappen1: Wouldn’t know — never been wrong before?

↳maxverstappen1: You can tell her in French though

↳user24: unconscious and still able to cause mischief…

↳user24: i think i wanna be here when i grow up!

↳maxverstappen1: No

↳charles_leclerc: non

↳pierregasly: un seul suffit

↳logansargeant: there are so many better role models out there

↳oscarpiastri: please don’t

Taglist

@anamiad00msday @suns3treading @daniskywalkersolo @awritingtree @justheretoreadthxxs @coral7161 @lost4lyrics @mastermindbaby @freyathehuntress @angelluv16 @nichmeddar @mxm47max @voidvannie @justaf1girl

[requiemforthepoets]

the proposal ⟢ FA14

⟢ part four of this time, i’ll love you much better

𖤓 series masterlist ⟢ playlist ⟢ part five ☽

PAIRINGS: fernando alonso x ex-wife!reader

SUMMARY: the twins thought that they have all the time in the world to devise a plan on how they would get you and fernando back together. that is until fernando had told the news to jullianna, prompting to put their plan in motion.

REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WARNINGS: no use of y/n, named character (except for reader), parent trap inspired fic + plot, google translated spanish and french, single dad!nando and single mom!reader (for the time being), evil fiancé, twin switching, inaccuracies with information, and minor typographical errors.

WORD COUNT: 5.1k

AUTHOR’S NOTE: part four of the series!! i have a lot of things going on, so that’s why it always takes a long time for me to update my series/post new parts to fics. as always, this series is open for taglist, so just comment or message me if you wanted to be tagged, and your comments/reblogs are highly appreciated, i hope you’ll enjoy this new part of the series! :)

The sunlight filtered through the curtains as Jullianna pulled her hair into a sleek ponytail, already dressed in a crisp white tennis outfit. She glanced at her reflection in the mirror, adjusting the collar of the polo shirt she wore. Jullianna’s focus, however, was more on the bubbling frustration in her chest. It was not just about the day ahead or the tennis session with Fernando—it was about everything Sofia had dropped into her lap without any warning.

As if on cue, Jullianna’s phone buzzed on the bedside table. She picked it up and saw Sofia’s caller ID flashed on the screen. Narrowing her eyes, she swiped to answer, voice immediately sharp.

“Well, it’s about damn time,” Jullianna began, tone clipped. “I’ve been waiting for you to call, and now you finally do.”

Sofia’s tone was light, almost too casual. “Why good morning to you too, Disney princess. How’s it going?”

“How’s it going? How’s it going?” Jullianna repeated incredulously. “Comment ça va? Vraiment? Tu es sérieusement en train de te moquer de moi?! Sofia, do you have any idea of what you’ve put me through?”

There was a pause on the other end. “What are you even talking about? You know how I can’t understand any of what you’re saying, right?”

“Oh don’t you play innocent with me,” Jullianna snapped. “Karting, Sofia. Karting! You didn’t even bother to tell me how to drive the freaking damn thing! I had to watch youtube videos just to figure out what I was supposed to do. Do you know how embarrassing that was?”

Sofia chuckled nervously. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry! I didn’t think it would be a big deal, papá would’ve helped you.”

“He did,” Jullianna admitted begrudgingly. “But that’s not the point! You could’ve warned me!”

“Fine, I’ll make it up to you,” Sofia said, tone placating. “But seriously, Jules, it’s only karting. You survived, right?”

“Barely,” Jullianna muttered, crossing her arms. “And you’re lucky I did, because I would’ve switched back and made you deal with the mess.”

The line went quiet for a moment, and then Sofia’s voice softened. “I’m sorry, Jules. I didn’t really mean to make things harder for you. I’ll give you all the details next time, okay?”

Jullianna exhaled, some of her frustration easing. “Fine. Alright. But that’s not all we need to talk about.”

“Oh?” Sofia sounded wary. “What now?”

“Stephanie.”

“Stepha-who now?”

“Exactly,” Jullianna said, dropping onto the edge of the bed. “She’s some woman papá had apparently been seeing, and she keeps on coming over to the house like she owns the place. I had to deal with her the other day, and let me tell you, she’s awful.”

Sofia’s voice hardened. “I haven’t heard of her before. When did this start?”

“Eh, probably while we're at camp,” Jullianna said bitterly. “Alejandra told me this woman had been coming around, and from what I’ve seen, she’s trouble. Fake, loud, annoying—you name it, she got it. The worst part? Papá seems completely oblivious to it.”

“Well that doesn’t sound good,” Sofia said. “Keep an eye on that woman. If she’s really as bad as you say, we’ll figure something out. But don’t let that woman get to you, okay? She’s not worth your energy.”

“Easier said than done,” Jullianna muttered.

The twins were so engrossed in their conversation that Jullianna barely registered Fernando calling out for her downstairs. “Sofia! ¡Vamos! It’s time to go!

Jullianna jumped up, glancing at the clock. “I’ve got to go, papá’s waiting for me. We’re going to play a few rounds of tennis.”

“Alrighty. Good luck, Sofia,” Sofia teased.

“Oh shut up.” Jullianna rolled her eyes.

“But seriously though, keep me updated about Stanley.”

“Fia, it’s Stephanie,” Jullianna replied, and Sofia just blew raspberries at her. “And will do. Talk to you later, ugly.”

“Hey! We look just th—” Jullianna ended the call before Sofia could even respond.

Jullianna stuffed her phone into the tennis bag and grabbed Sofia’s tennis racket from where it leaned against the wall, and headed downstairs. Fernando was waiting by the front door, dressed in an equally sporty outfit like Jullianna and holding his own tennis racket.

“Finally,” he said with a smile. “You ready?”

Jullianna nodded with a smile. “Ready.”

The sun was high overhead when Jullianna and Fernando stepped onto the private tennis court—air was warm but pleasant, with a light breeze that rustled the nearby trees. Jullianna adjusted the grip on the racket, movements fluid and confident. Playing tennis was her forté, and it was surely worlds away from the stress and confusion of karting or dealing with unwelcome houseguests like Stephanie.

Fernando took his place on the opposite side of the court, bouncing the tennis ball a couple of times before looking up at Jullianna with a grin. “You ready, chiquita?”

Jullianna smirked. “Yup!”

Fernando laughed, tossing the ball into the and served with precision. The ball zipped over the net, and Jullianna moved quickly, her racket connecting with a satisfying thwack! as she returned the shot.

The rally began, and for the first few minutes, the only sounds were the rhythmic hits of the ball against the racket, quick and hurried footsteps against the clay surface, and the occasional grunt of effort. Jullianna found herself smiling as she played, thoughts drifting briefly to when her and Sofia had shared a match back at camp walden. It was an intense match, filled with playful trash-talking and endless determination to outdo each other.

But then, Fernando broke the silence, tone casual yet curious. “So,” he began, returning a particularly fast shot, “what do you think of Stephanie?”

Jullianna hesitated, her focus briefly faltering before she sent the ball back over the net. “Stephanie?” she repeated, trying to buy herself some time.

“Yes, Stephanie,” Fernando said, voice light but persistent. “You’ve spent some time with her now. I just want to know what you think of her.”

Jullianna tightened her grip on the racket, her mind racing. She couldn’t very well tell him the truth—that she finds Stephanie insufferable, fake, and most certainly not the right woman for Fernando. Instead, she decided to tread carefully, masking her irritation with forced politeness.

“Well,” she began, returning another shot, “she’s…very put-together. Always dressed nicely, very stylish.” she paused, muttering just loudly enough for herself, not my style, though. Mamá’s much better.

Fernando chuckled, clearly amused by Jullianna’s side comment. “So, you think she’s stylish. That’s good to hear, and it seems like you two are getting along.”

“Mm-hmm,” Jullianna murmured, keeping her tone neutral. She didn’t elaborate further, focusing instead on the ball.

Just when Jullianna thought that the conversation about Stephanie is done, turns out that it’s not. Fernando wasn’t done. As the rally continued, his tone shifted slightly, becoming more serious.

“Sofia,” Fernando said, eyes following the ball as it sailed over the net, “I’ve been thinking about the future, and you know that I’m not getting any younger. Sooner or later I’m about to retire soon from Formula 1, and I want to know what you think about Stephanie joining the family.”

Jullianna froze for a split second, the racket nearly slipping from her hands. The words hung in the air, heavy and unmistakable. She knew exactly what he meant, but she decided to play dumb, her voice laced with forced confusion.

“Joining the family? What do you mean, papá? Are you planning to adopt her or something?” Jullianna said jokingly.

Fernando let out a hearty laugh, clearly amused by Jullianna’s sarcasm. “No, chiquita. Not adoption.” he hesitated for a moment before continuing, tone filled with quiet excitement. “What I mean is that I proposed to her.”

The words hit Jullianna like a freight train. For a brief moment, she stood frozen in place, staring at her father as if she had not heard him correctly. Then, as the reality of his statement sank in, something inside her snapped. Jullianna’s next hit was ferocious, with the ball rocketing past Fernando so fast that he barely had time to react. He turned to watch it bounce out of bounds, a look of surprise on his face.

“Wow,” Fernando said with a laugh, jogging to retrieve the ball. “That was quite the shot, eh?”

But Jullianna was not done. Her hits became more aggressive, each one more powerful than the last. She was not just playing tennis anymore, she was channeling all of her anger and frustration into every swing. Fernando was struggling to keep up, missing shot after shot as the intensity of the game escalated.

“Sofia, mi vida,” he called out, tone now tinged with concern. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

Jullianna didn’t answer, her jaw clenched, and eyes burning with a mix of anger and betrayal. Finally, after one last blistering shot that Fernando couldn’t even attempt to return, she threw the racket with force—destroying it in the process and turned on her heel.

“Sofia!” Fernando called after her, voice filled with confusion as to why his daughter was acting up. “Where are you going?”

But Jullianna didn’t look back. She walked briskly off the court, chest heaving with unspoken words, and tears of frustration stinging her eyes. When Jullianna reached the front door of the house—still angry and frustrated, she grabbed the handle and turned it open, but in her haste and anger, she twisted it the wrong way. The door didn’t budge.

“¡Por favor!” she hissed, shaking the handle violently.

When it still refused to open, Jullianna growled in frustration, yanking the door with all her strength. Finally, it gave way, and she stumbled inside, muttering to herself. She glanced at the door handle, relieved to see it hadn’t broken. Once inside, she marched into the living room, pacing back and forth, her sneakers squeaking faintly against the floor.

“Comment peut-il penser que c’est une bonne idée?” she muttered, throwing her hands in the air. “Who even is she? Elle est insupportable!”

Jullianna’s rant alternated between languages—English, French, and Spanish, as her thoughts tumbled out uncontrollably. “He proposed? To her? ¡Dios mío, papá, estás loco!”

She stopped pacing momentarily, pressing her hands to her forehead. “This is not happening. This cannot be happening. I can’t handle this alone, I’m only one kid.”

Lost in her tirade, Alejandra peeks around the corner of the armchair she’s been sitting in with a cup of coffee in her hands. Alejandra initially assumed Sofia was in one of her usual moods, but the erratic pacing and the odd blend of languages caught Alejandra’s attention.

When Jullianna finally turned around, Alejandra cleared her throat gently. “¿Tienes algo que quieras compartir con la clase, mi chica?”

Jullianna froze mid-step, head snapping up—to which she immediately regretted because of the strain of her action. Her eyes widened in shock, the usually composed façade already slipping. Her heart was racing so fast, and quickly straightened her posture, smoothing her tennis skirt and forcing a smile.

“Alejandra! I didn’t see you there, you gave me a fright!” she said, tone overly bright.

Alejandra sat her coffee cup down at the side table, her eyes narrowing slightly as she stood up from the armchair and slowly approached Jullianna.

“You didn’t see me? Gave you a fright? I’ve been sitting here the whole time, chica. You were so lost in your own thoughts, or rather, in frustration, that you didn’t notice.” Alejandra folded her arms, studying Jullianna closely. “¿Qué está pasando? En serio.”

“Nothing, I swear!” Jullianna replied too quickly, smile tightening. “Just…a lot on my mind lately.”

Alejandra tilted her head, gaze sharpening. “¿Seguro que no hay nada de lo que quieras hablarme?” she asked for the second time. “You’ve been acting strange, mi niña.”

“Strange?” Jullianna echoed nervously, the forced smile on her face faltering. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Alejandra took a step closer, expression skeptical. “Sí, extraño. For one, you’re acting too proper—using expressions like you gave me a fright, the way you eat—you barely touch your food now, and even the way you speak sometimes, it’s different. I didn’t even know you speak French.”

Jullianna opened her mouth to respond but found herself at a loss for words. She tried to come up with some silly excuse, anything to divert Alejandra’s growing suspicion, but her mind went completely blank.

“Alejandra,” she trailed off, “I changed a lot over the summer, that’s all.”

Alejandra’s gaze softened, though her tone remained firm. “Si no lo supiera, diría que es casi como si estuvieras…” she paused for a little bit, “Ay dios mío, no importa, eso es demasiado imposible.”

Jullianna hesitated, the weight of the secret she had been carrying threatening to crush her. “Almost as if I were who, Alejandra?”

“Nadie, nadie. Chica tonta, olvida que lo mencioné.” Alejandra chuckled. “Why don’t I make your favorite food, huh? I think that tennis session with your papá had made you hungry.”

Finally, Jullianna sighed, her shoulders slumping in defeat. She couldn’t take it any longer, so she’ll take the chance now. “¿Casi como si fuera Jullianna?”

Alejandra’s eyes widened. “What?” her breath hitched. “You know about Jullianna?”

“I am Jullianna.” Jullianna breathed out.

For a moment, silence hung heavy between them. Alejandra stared at her, mouth opening and closing as she’s trying to process what was happening. Then, tears welled up in Alejandra’s eyes.

“¿De verdad eres Jullianna?” Alejandra asked, voice trembling.

Jullianna nodded, her own eyes glistening. “Yes, it’s me.”

Alejandra’s hands flew to her mouth as a sob escaped her. “¡Mi niña!” she cried, rushing forward to embrace Jullianna.

The hug was tight, almost crushing, but Jullianna didn’t mind. She wrapped her arms around Alejandra, feeling an unexpected wave of comfort.

“No puedo creerlo!” Alejandra said through her tears. “The last time I saw and held you, you were just a baby—barely a year old. You and your mother left for France after the divorce. I thought that I would never see you again.”

Jullianna blinked back tears. “I’ve missed you too, Alejandra.”

Alejandra pulled back slightly, cupping Jullianna’s face in her hands. “¡Oh, mírate!” she said, voice filled with awe. “All grown up, but still the same little girl that I used to hold in my arms. But why are you here in Spain? Where is Sofí?”

Jullianna hesitated, unsure how much to more of her and Sofia’s plan she could reveal. “It’s…complicated,” she said finally.

Alejandra nodded, sensing that Jullianna wasn’t ready to share everything just yet. “Alright,” she said gently. “But you have to be careful, mi niña. If your papá finds out—”

“I know,” Jullianna interrupted, voice firm. “That’s why I need you to keep this between us. Please, Alejandra.”

“Of course,” Alejandra nodded. “Haría cualquier cosa por ti.”

Fernando stepped inside of the house, chest heaving as he called out, “Sofia! ¿Dónde estás?” his voice echoed through the house with urgency.

The sounds of Fernando’s footsteps grew louder as he entered the living room, and Jullianna stiffened, her arms instinctively crossing over her chest. Alejandra had sensed the tension, so she placed a comforting hand on Jullianna’s shoulder.

“Está bien,” Alejandra whispered gently. “I’ll leave you two to talk, I’ll be at the kitchen and prepare you some snacks.”

Jullianna nodded, watching as Alejandra quietly exited the living room and headed towards the kitchen. She barely had a moment to collect her thoughts before Fernando appeared in the doorway of the living room, looking left and right for Jullianna. When he saw her, he paused, hands on his hips, exhaling deeply as though trying to steady himself.

“Sofí,” he said softly, tone coaxing. “Come, sit with me, princesa.” Fernando gestured to the couch.

She hesitated but eventually walked over and perched on the edge of the couch, arms crossed defensively over her chest. Jullianna’s gaze stayed fixed on the floor, refusing to meet her father’s eyes.

Fernando sat beside her, leaving a careful distance between them. “Why did you run off like that mi vida?” he asked, voice gentler now.

Jullianna did not respond, jaw tightening.

“Sofía,” Fernando pressed, leaning forward slightly. “I proposed to Stephanie the other night. It was a very special moment for us—”

“Stop. I’m gonna stop you right there,” Jullianna cut in sharply, standing abruptly. The words struck a huge nerve within her, and she could not hold back any longer. “Just stop, papá, please.”

Fernando blinked, surprised by her sudden outburst. “¿Qué te pasa? Why are you acting like this?”

Jullianna turned to face Fernando, eyes blazing with nothing but anger. “Because it is outrageous!” she snapped, throwing her hands in the air. “You’re marrying her? That woman? Marrying Stephanie?”

He frowned. “And what is so outrageous about that?”

“Oh my god, papá! That woman’s practically young enough to be my sister!” Jullianna shot back, pacing back and forth as her emotions spilled over. “Do you not see how absurd this is? All of it!”

“I never knew you would be reacting like this,” Fernando stood, hands raised in a placating gesture. “Sofía, calm down, por favor. There’s no need to—”

“Je suis calme!” Jullianna shouted like a maniac, clearly not calm at all. She began to switch to French again without even realizing it, her words tumbling out in a torrent. “Comment peux-tu faire ça? As-tu même pensé à ce que cela signifierait pour nous? C’est insensé! Je ne peux pas croire que tu ferais ça. Elle n’est pas la bonne pour toi, papa. Pas du tout!”

Fernando furrowed his eyebrows, stepping in closer towards Jullianna. “What…French? Desde cuándo hablas francés?”

Jullianna stopped pacing, momentarily caught off guard. “I-I um, uh, learned it at camp,” she said quickly, brushing past the question. “But that’s not the point!”

She faced Fernando. Taking a deep breath, she began, voice softening slightly. “I’m sorry for my outburst,” she said, brushing her hair back from her face. “But we need to talk about this rationally.”

Fernando nodded, motioning for her to sit again, but Jullianna preferred standing. “Alright, alright,” he said. “Let’s talk. But in a language we can both understand, por favor mi vida.”

He sighed, patience already visibly thinning. “Sofía, I don’t understand why this is upsetting you so much. Stephanie has been kind to you, hasn’t she? She’s made every effort to—”

“Kind?” Jullianna scoffed, cutting him off. “That’s not the issue, papá. This isn’t about her being nice, this is about you thinking you can just bring someone into our lives and marry them without even considering how it affects everything!”

Feenando’s brows furrowed deeply. “I have considered it. Stephanie is someone I care about, and I thought you would—”

“Well you thought wrong!” Jullianna interrupted, voice rising again. She felt the heat of tears threatening to spill but blinked them back furiously. “You can’t do this, papa. You can’t marry her—or anyone else! It will ruin everything!”

He opened his mouth to respond, but before Fernando could even say a word, Jullianna already turned on her heel and stormed out of the room, her tennis shoes squeaking against the floor.

“Sofía!” Fernando called after her, voice tinged with frustration and confusion. But she didn’t stop despite how many times Fernando called out for her.

Jullianna slumped into the St. Anthony’s face-to-face swing, letting her head fall back against the smooth wood. She exhaled sharply, crossing her arms over her chest, still reeling from what she had just learned. Fernando had proposed to Stephanie. Proposed. The word itself made her stomach churn.

This was worse than she and Sofia had imagined. They had time, or so they thought. But now, with a ring on Stephanie’s finger, the entire course of action had been changed—everything was moving too fast. Jullianna and Sofia had to quickly put their plan into motion if they even want to stop this wedding from happening, they need to act now. But there was only one viable solution: they had to get you and Fernando back together.

Jullianna was deep in thought, brainstorming ways to subtly, but not-so-subtly, bring you to Spain or maybe one of his races so that she and Sofia can just push you both back towards each other, when a sudden knock against the wooden frame of the swing had startled Jullianna. Her head snapped up, and saw Stephanie.

“Mind if I join you?” Stephanie asked, voice light and airy, as if she had just wandered into the garden without a care in the world.

Before Jullianna could even answer, Stephanie lowered herself onto the vacant seat of the swing, facing her directly. Jullianna barely stopped herself from grimacing, just looking at Stephanie made her want to barf.

Stephanie clasped her hands together, tilting her head slightly. “I can imagine how surprised you must have been by the engagement news.”

Jullianna forced a tight-lipped smile, words laced with passive aggression. “Oh, shock doesn’t even begin to cover it, honestly.”

Stephanie just chuckled, completely oblivious to the sharp edge in Jullianna’s tone. She relaxed herself on the seat, movements elegant and poised, as if this were just another casual afternoon chat. Forcing herself not to groan, Jullianna braced herself for whatever nonsense Stephanie was about to spew.

“You know,” Stephanie began, leaning slightly forward, “eleven is such a very wonderful age.”

Jullianna arched an eyebrow. What in the actual world does that have to do with any of this?

Stephanie smiled wistfully, as if she was reminiscing about something so precious. “When I was eleven, I had my first beau.” She let out a soft laugh, eyes sparkling with nostalgia.

“It was the first time I really started to feel like a woman.” she sighed dramatically. “That’s when I realized love was this fantastic, exhilarating mystery, one that takes a man and a woman on the most magical journey.”

Jullianna’s hand was tightly gripping the armrest of the swing, jaw now clenched, and resisting the great force of rolling her eyes. Oh, for the love of all things holy. She kept her expression neutral, pretending to listen, but internally, Jullianna was already pulling her hair out and screaming.

Stephanie continued, completely unaware of Jullianna’s growing irritation. “And believe it or not, you’ll understand that feeling soon,” she said with a knowing smile.

Jullianna just stared at Stephanie, fingers curled slightly now against her arms. She was not sure what was more annoying—Stephanie’s patronizing tone, or the fact that she spoke as if she had somehow unlocked the secrets of the universe. She certainly did not want to sit there, listening to this woman yap on about love like she was some kind of modern day Aristotle.

Before Stephanie could continue her sickly sweet monologue about love and magical journeys, Jullianna lifted a hand slightly, cutting Stephanie off.

“You know, I don’t want to sound all jerky or anything, because, from what I can tell, you’re trying really hard to be all mushy and sentimental.” she tilted her head slightly, letting her eyes linger on Stephanie’s with something close to amusement. “And I think I finally got it.”

Stephanie blinked, caught slightly off guard. “Get what, exactly?”

Jullianna leaned forward slightly, lips curling into a knowing smile. “What my papá sees in you.” she continued, voice still laced with that same passive aggressiveness, but now there was something else woven into it—a challenge. “You’re a beautiful woman. Sexy, even, and my papá? Well, he’s only human, after all.”

Stephanie’s lips parted slightly, but no words came out just yet. Jullianna’s smile widened just a little, though her eyes were sharp.

“But if you ask me, marriage is supposed to be based on something more, don’t you agree?” Jullianna let the question hang in the air for a moment before her smile turned almost innocent. “Something more than just…fornication. If you don’t know what fornication is, it means sex.”

Stephanie’s entire expression shifted. Gone was the light, airy persona. Her posture stiffened just slightly, and the sweetness in her eyes dimmed, now replaced with something sharper, something calculated. Jullianna didn’t flinch though, in fact, she was thoroughly enjoying every bit of it.

She smiled, but it was a whole lot different now. “Oh boy, your papá really underestimates you, doesn’t he?”

Jullianna let out a small, breathy chuckle. “Oh?” she mused, cocking her head slightly, as if intrigued. “And you don’t?”

Stephanie studied her closely, lips still curved, but her eyes darkened. Jullianna could feel it now—she was starting to get on Stephanie’s nerves. It was a beautiful sight and symphony for Jullianna. Good. People always tend to overlook her, underestimated her. People would assume that she was just a kid who did not know any better. She liked it that way. Because nothing thrilled Jullianna more than a good challenge, and judging by the way Stephanie was staring her down, she had just found herself a new one.

She then let out a light laugh, though there was no real humor behind it. Stephanie tilted her head slightly, her eyes narrowing just a bit as she studied Jullianna with thinly veiled annoyance.

“So what if I’m young and beautiful?” Stephanie mused, voice airy but carrying an undertone of sharpness. “Last time I checked, being young and beautiful isn’t a crime.”

Jullianna simply raised an eyebrow, keeping her smirk firmly in place, which only seemed to annoy the hell out of Stephanie even more.

“And for the record, I know what fornication means, thank you very much. I love your father, I adore him. Your father is exactly the kind of man I’ve always envisioned myself marrying. This—” she gestured between herself and Jullianna as if making some kind of grand declaration, “is the real deal, honey. Nothing, and I say nothing, is going to come between us.”

Jullianna barely blinked at Stephanie’s words. She just leaned back against the wooden swing, one arm lazily draped over the armrest, completely unbothered, and yawning out of boredom to piss off Stephanie more.

While Stephanie, on the other hand, was growing impatient. She leaned forward slightly, gaze piercing as she said, “you need to understand something, sweetheart. This is the reality now, you have to accept the fact that you’re no longer the only girl in Fernando Alonso’s life. You need to get over it.”

That did it. Jullianna’s lips curled into an even bigger smirk, one that was almost too smug, too knowing. It made Stephanie’s fingers twitch slightly, as if she were resisting the urge to wipe the expression right off her face. She leaned in slightly as well, resting her elbows on her knees as she stared Stephanie down.

“Oh? That’s the reality, huh?” she drawled, voice dripping with amusement.

Jullianna continued, her smirk never wavering. “So, just to be clear that we’re on the same page here, papá’s money has nothing to do with any of this? No part of you thinks that marrying him just so happens to come with a very very comfortable lifestyle?”

Stephanie’s expressions had immediately tightened, but she quickly schooled her features back into something neutral. “Are you insinuating that I’m marrying your father for his money?” she asked, feigning offense, though her voice was just a little too even to be genuine.

Jullianna simply shrugged, the smirk on her face never fading. “I’m not insinuating anything, but if that’s what you think, then feel free to think of such things,” she said innocently, though her eyes were gleaming with mischief. “I’m just saying, I’ve seen this in a film before. I mean, come on, I’ve watched cinderella more times than I can count.”

Stephanie’s brows furrowed slightly, unsure of where this was going. Jullianna sighed dramatically and shook her head. “And if this whole shazam isn’t about money, then great! But personally? I’d rather not end up scrubbing the floors and befriending the neighborhood birds while you have breakfast in bed, smiling down at me from your throne in papá’s house.”

Her entire face stiffened at what Jullianna just said, lips pressing together tightly as the words settled between them. For the first time in their entire conversation, Stephanie had no response at all, and that? That brought nothing but pure, unadulterated joy.

However, Stephanie’s entire demeanor changed the moment Jullianna’s words sank in. Her perfectly poised expression faltered, just for a second, before her brows furrowed and her lips pressed into a thin, irritated line. It was the exact reaction that Jullianna had been hoping for. She had successfully gotten under Stephanie’s skin, and now? Now she was really starting to see the cracks in the woman her father wanted to marry.

Stephanie inhaled sharply, composing herself before leaning forward again, but this time, her face was mere inches from Jullianna’s. She locked eyes with her, the intensity of her gaze enough to make most people shrink under the pressure. But not Jullianna.

“You are unbelievably out of line, jovencita,” Stephanie said in a low voice, tone dripping with controlled frustration.

Jullianna simply blinked up at her, her smirk never faltering. Stephanie exhaled through her nose, clearly trying to keep herself from snapping. Then, with slow precision, she spoke, enunciating each word carefully.

“Listen to me, and you listen good,” she began, voice dangerously soft. “I’m marrying your father whether you like it or not. So if I were you, I’d quit playing whatever little game you think you’re playing and stay out of my way.”

Jullianna raised an eyebrow, tilting her head slightly as if contemplating Stephanie’s words, but said nothing. Stephanie leaned more closer, voice dropping even more lower.

“You are way in over your head, sweetheart,” she continued, tone carrying a hint of condescension. “So I suggest you don’t tangle yourself up in things you clearly don’t understand.”

There was a heavy pause. Stephanie studied Jullianna’s face, waiting for some kind of reaction, for her to look intimidated, or at least acknowledge the warning, and Stephanie took Jullianna’s silence as an agreement, she leaned back on the swing, arm draping over the armrest.

Instead, Jullianna just smiled. Not a polite smile, not a nervous smile. But a slow, teasing, infuriating smirk. Then, she shrugged, Stephanie’s eye twitching. Before the woman could say another word, Jullianna stood up, stretching slightly as if this whole conversation had been nothing more than a mild inconvenience for her. Without a warning, she bent down so that she was now the one at Stephanie’s eye level.

“Je comprends parfaitement, Cruella.” she said smoothly. Stephanie blinked, momentarily caught off guard.

Jullianna smiled again, that same mischievous, knowing grin that had been pushing all of Stephanie’s buttons. Then, because Jullianna was still eleven after all, and feeling particularly childish, she blew raspberries right in Stephanie’s face, wherein the woman recoiled, visibly appalled. Jullianna giggled, straightening up before giving her soon-to-be stepmother a playful wink.

“Au revoir, Stéphanie,” she said cheerfully.

Jullianna turned on her heel and walked away, leaving the woman completely dumbfounded.

taglist : @qghosty , @seonghwaexile , @linnygirl09 , @tallrock35 , @madnesstaking0ver , @akulici , @scopeiguess , @ferakillia , @exactlycoralfox , @iambored24601 , @mx13sworld , @tibadi , @chainsawangel

[asdfghjklartblog]

My Time

Trans masc reader x yandere batfam

I’ve been getting into vocaloid songs, or like songs that use Teto and Miku’s voices. Anyways since I used to be really into Miku I wanted to use that cause well… What kind of person doesn’t love Miku?

I hope you guys like it. I think there’s some spelling mistakes or typos and if there is, sorry :P but otherwise I don’t got much to say! Good reading! It’s about 5.8k words! Yay!

Your mother, m/n was a beautiful woman. Strong, charming, and stubborn, at least that’s what your daddy said. And you might not remember mommy, but you trust daddy. He says that mommy loved you, that she loved you so much, but that she couldn’t come back. You didn’t really understand, not at the time. I mean how could a two-year-old grapple with the concept of death? However, even though your mom left, you weren’t lonely, you had daddy. Daddy wasn’t your real father, no, but he’s the one that’s been loving you and taking care of you. He’s the one that told you stories when you went to bed, tucked you in and kissed you good night. He held you when you were scared, cuddled you when you wanted love. He was everything you could ever want, he promised to stay with you till you got sick of him. He promised he’d be there for you no matter what.

You woke up for your first day of preschool, and when you go to look at your little froggy clock you saw that it was already 9 in the morning. You ran over to your daddy’s room excitedly chattering about how you were going to be late because of him which makes you giggle, because usually daddy would chastise and tease you about making them late. You open the door to find him still, there’s stab wounds all over his chest and dried blood all over the bed, his eyes are dull and lifeless and there’s bruises at his neck and wrists.

You shiver as a breeze comes through the open window. You stand there for a while, confused on what to do. There’s this bad feeling in your stomach but despite that you slowly approach the bed. You poke your dad and try to wake him up, you notice that he’s cold, daddy’s never cold. He’s always warm and comforting and perfect for cuddles. You start crying, not really knowing why. You climb up on the bed and curl up beside him. The sheets are crusty with blood and it feels all gross and but that doesn’t really matter to you right now. You just want to stay here with daddy.

You don’t know how long you’re there but at some point daddy’s phone rings. You stare at it, frozen in place before you climb down from the bed and go over to it. You pick up the phone and a woman says. “Hello! This is Thierry Preschool, we were wondering if your child y/n was still coming? It’s been about two hours since it started and we were just checking.”

You don’t know what to say to her. You fidget a bit before mumbling. “H-Hello. Daddy can’t come to the phone right now. Um. I’m scared. Daddy isn’t moving and there’s blood all over? That’s bad, right? Daddy’s cold and everything and -and I don’t know what to do!”

You start sniffling, on the verge of crying again as the person on the other line stays silent. She then gently and calmly says. “Honey, it’s going to be okay. Can you tell me where you live honey? Calm down and watch some TV or read a book, okay honey? Can you do that for me? Can you be strong for me?”

You sniffle and nod trying to get out a choked up “Yeah.” From your throat. You try your best to mumble out an address as she coos about how good of a job you’re doing and how she needs you to stay calm. Before she hangs up, she tells you that some nice men will come to pick you up and that you have to be good for them. You nod and mumble an okay. You go back to curl up against your daddy, you bury your face into his chest and whisper to him.

“People are coming. It’s okay daddy. We’ll be okay. I love you. You’ll wake up soon right? Please? I’ll be a good girl daddy I promise.”

The nice men come and they look at you and daddy with… An expression you’ve never seen before. It makes you feel worse. They try to tear you away from him but you hold onto daddy with a death grip while you scream and shout as they try to convince you to let go. You’re scared. You don’t wanna let him go. They eventually pry you away from him as you wail and try your best to wriggle out of their hold. After that, it’s a bit of a blur. You were wrangled into a police car as one of them sat in the backseat with you trying to calm you down.

You look out the window, watching as the officer drives through the streets, going through traffic. You’re escorted into a building and taken into a room where a police officer try to question you gently. However the next thing you know everything gets blurry, it’s hard to breathe and it feels like your insides are spiky. When you can breathe again some man with a scruffy face and blocky glasses is holding you close to his chest saying things like. “It’s okay, you’re alright.” And “Breathe, breathe for me.” You calm down, not because of his words, but because he looks a bit like dad. His scruffy face, his gentle smile, his dark green eyes. It makes you bury your face into the man’s chest and whisper out a small broken. “Don’t leave me.”

The next thing you can remember was the man carrying you around like a baby, mostly because even after the weird “panic attack” or whatever the police officer called it, you wouldn’t let go of him. Which made the man holding you look at you sadly. He gives in and instead of forcing you to let go and go back to doing work, he starts showing you all kinds of things, giving you a tour around the police station. You learn from one of the men that the guy holding you is named Commissioner Gordon. Weird name. It sounds kinda cool though.

Once you’ve fully calmed down he carries you over to where a nurse is and he distracts you by talking about dinosaurs which you excitedly listen to while they draw some blood to see if you’re healthy and to notify any blood relatives. Commie says you’re being a very good girl and that they’ll have results in less than an hour, he also asks if you’re hungry which you nod enthusiastically to. He then leaves to get you some chips and a donut from the break room. You’re about to start chowing down before Commie asks. “Hold on there kid, isn’t there something you need to say before eating?”

You stand there staring at him and then make an ‘Oh!’ face and say. “Thanks Commie!”

You don’t notice but as you start eating the donut that a couple of the police officers laugh while Commie cracks a smile and then huffs before saying. “Kid, Commissioner isn’t my first name. It’s Jim.”

You then absentmindedly say as you take another bite of the donut. “Oh. Okay Jimmy.”

One of the guards starts laughing again and this time even Jimmy chuckles. However someone comes in and whispers to Jimmy and he then turns back to the person as they whisper to each other. Another officer takes it upon himself to distract and picks you up before throwing you up into the air and catching you. Making you giggle and ask for more. Jimmy approaches again and he subtly asks the officer distracting you to put you down. Jimmy takes a knee looking at you at eye level and hesitates before saying. “We… Found some people you’re… Related to. We called them up and asked if they’d take you in, and he said yes. Do you know Bruce Wayne? He’s your daddy-“

You immediately interrupt him saying. “But I already have a daddy. I don’t need another one-“

Jimmy interrupts you trying to gently say. “I’m sorry. But.. Your daddy… He can’t take care of you anymore-“

“What do you mean? Why? Can’t you help him? I’ve been waiting and being a good girl! Does daddy not want me anymore?”

“Honey-“

“No! I’ve been good! Daddy said he’d stay with me! He promised, h-he-“

Jimmy interrupts with a firm call of your name which makes you stop. He puts a hand on your shoulder and brings you into a hug as he gently says to you. “I’m sorry. He’s gone.” As those words tumble out of his mouth you tear up again and you raise your arms to cling on to him for dear life. You bawl and hiccup and he’s there to take all of your anger, your sadness until you’ve calmed down again. He pulls away from you and tries to talk to you, but you’re tired. You’re sad, you don’t have the energy to talk. He sighs and then holds your hand and guides you to a bench, he pats your head and says. “How about you wait here? Since your room is not exactly under investigation I could maybe swipe some things for you? Do you have a favorite toy or picture I can get for you?”

You wait trying to think about what you would want from your room. You think of your little stuffed owl that daddy named Oliver and your stuffed cat you named Oliver 2. You want the picture on your nightstand of you, mommy and daddy. You want the special night light daddy made for you. You want your dinosaur pjs daddy got for your birthday, you try your best to relay this Jimmy but all that comes out are little mumbles and whimpers.

He sighs and says with a small smile. “Tell ya what kid, when you go stay with da- Bruce. Why don’t you have him send an email or make him call us about what you want from home. And I’ll get those things for you. How does that sound kid?”

You look up at him, slowly and you hesitantly nod. He ruffles your head and with a smile and says. “‘Atta girl!”

Which makes you smile a bit before your face going blank. He sighs at that and says. “Someone’ll be here to pick you up shortly. And-“

You hear someone running and turn to look where it’s coming from. You see some guy comes running and stops in front of you. He heaves as he holds something familiar under his arm. After he catches his breath he smiles at you before handing you the thing under his arm. A stuffed owl which you immediately recognize as Oliver. He winks at you and then crouches down to your height as he says.

“Hey kid, my name’s Ethan Bennett. Man, you are like a carbon copy of Bruce. Well, except for your eyes, yours are e/c and a lot softer. Shit, where do I even start. Uh, Oh! I’m your uncle, well, not your actual uncle but like, you can consider me as one. I’m a detective under Commissioner Gordon. I’m also your dad’s best friend, I’m not the one here to pick you up, I’m actually still on the clock but uh. This guy,” He says as he holds up Oliver with a smug smile. “Said that he needed to get to you. So I did him a favor. Just… Don’t tell anyone.”

You take Oliver from his hand and while Jimmy and Uncle Bennett argue you start to tear up again. You hug Oliver tight burying your face in his soft downy chest. Then looking up at Uncle Bennett, you quietly say. “Thank you.” Which he pauses the argument for, before smiling down at you. “You’re welcome, kid. Say how about I wait with you huh? I could show you pictures of your daddy-“

You immediately interrupt. “Not my daddy.”

Ethan looks a bit confused at that, and looks to Jimmy for an explanation. Jimmy shrugs and motions for Uncle Bennett to continue. “Should I call him your dad?”

You nod, confirming that dad is an acceptable choice of words. He chuckles and then continues. “How about I show you pictures of him. So we can.. Condition you to him like a cat.”

You see Jimmy smack Uncle Bennett’s bald head which makes you giggle as Uncle tries to defend himself saying. “What? It’s true! I mean, he’s a big guy, he’s probably gonna scare her. I mean unless you know him, he looks pretty scary. And look at her.”

Uncle says as he gestures to you with both hands. “She’s barely what 4? 5? She looks like a sad wet kitten, Bruce looks like that evil grey bird that looks like it eats puppies compared to her.”

You tilt your head at that. There’s an evil bird? Your father looks like a bird? What does that mean? Your uncle is weird maybe you can get a different one. Jimmy seems like he’d be a good uncle.

They start arguing again and you go back to sit on the bench as they argued. You hold Oliver tightly in your hands and wait, you see them stop arguing with both of them leaving you to wait alone. Or at least that’s what you thought would happen. Until uncle Bennett comes back with some files in hand and some markers and pencils in the other. He sits next to you and says. “Well, I couldn’t get out of work early, but he never said I couldn’t work while I waited with you.”

You smile at him and scooch closer to him as he chuckles. And so the two of you wait. And wait. And wait some more. By 5 you then see an man that looks kinda like a butler being escorted by an officer. You tug on uncle Bennet’s dress shirt before asking. “What do you think he’s in for?”

He looks at you confused before looking up, you see his eyes widen and he starts to burst into laughter. Both the officer and fancy man look confused, and well, so are you.

Your eyes meet with the fancy man’s and his eyes widen and his pupils shrink in shock. He then schools his expression and looks at you with a smile, you shift in your seat feeling a bit uncomfortable with the look in his eyes. The fancy man walks up to you and crouches to your level, he then gently says to you.

“Hello. You must be y/n. My name is Alfred Pennyworth, I’m the butler for the Wayne family. I apologize but your father is not able to pick you up since-“

“What? Alfred what do you mean-“

Then Alfred and uncle Bennett starts talking and kinda arguing. You couldn’t care less though, you have Oliver now! You smile and nuzzle into Oliver’s fluffy chest and then squeeze the little speaker in its wing which plays a recording of your daddy humming his lullaby and then saying. “I love you my little Bubo.” You hold it closer and whisper into its fur. “I love you too daddy.” You hear uncle Bennett’s and Alfred’s argument start to quiet down and you catch uncle saying.

“-how he treats his other kid? Look, even if there was an emergency-“

Alfred sighs as he replies. “No, he does not treat master Dick like this, look. I’m not going to make excuses for him. Master Bruce had his phone on silent for a meeting and so he wasn’t able to answer, then there was Penguin who tried to steal some kind of tech there and you know how they have to follow protocol and whatnot-“

You sigh and look up at Alfred while tugging at his pant leg. They both look down at you and you just ask. “I’m tired. And hungry. I wanna go home. Can you take me home?”

They both look at each other nervously and Alfred takes a breath and says. “I apologize Miss y/n. But, you cannot go home. I understand this is hard for you, and you don’t understand what’s going on. But I, your father and your brother will take care of you. You have my word.”

You want to argue, you wanna fight and yell and say the bad words that your daddy says by accident sometimes. But you’re so small, well, at least you feel small. You’ve never felt this small, well you have, but daddy was there to hug and comfort you. As you look at Alfred, you wish something, anything would just leave your math. Instead all you can say is. “Okay. But I want warm honeyed milk and a bed time story.”

Alfred chuckles at that and nods. You don’t understand why is he laughing, You are completely serious, if you do not have your drink you will throw a tantrum. It’s the least this mysterious man can do after saying that. Alfred, then follows Ethan to go get the paperwork to take you out of the police station and to claim legal rights over you. Meanwhile you tell Oliver about your day, about the scary things that happened. You look at Oliver’s beady eyes and whisper. “I hope my dad likes me. Daddy says I’m a good girl so they’ll like me, I know they will. And even if they don’t, daddy says that some people are just stupid and dumb and don’t deserve to be your friends.”

Alfred comes back with a thick folder of paperwork which you frown at, you don’t like paper. It makes the people you like busy, specifically daddy. You hate when daddy has paperwork. You then look up to Alfred and tug on his pant leg as you whisper up to him. “Do you hate paperwork too?”

He raises an eyebrow at you with a little smile on his face, he takes your hand and starts to lead you out of the police station as you two start to converse. You talk to him about anything that comes to mind. From what you think of paperwork to which Hercules beetle you love the most, to how you peed your pants at the aquarium while you were out in the play area. Alfred had to contain his laughter as you described all of the kids started crying, including you. Finally you arrive at this big building and you look up at it in awe, you then look around at the courtyard and the scary but pretty style of the building. You look up to Alfred and say. “This is like, a bajillion times bigger than my home!”

Before Alfred can stop you, you start running off to the front door giggling and squealing as Alfred tries to catch you. After a few minutes of expertly dodging and wiggling out of his hold like some slippery snake. He catches you and then throws you under his arm which you make a little ‘oof’ sound at.

Alfred then takes you through the foyer and after going through some hallways, which you don’t keep track of, you get to the kitchen. He sits you down at a stool by the kitchen island and says. “Don’t go running off miss y/n we wouldn’t want you to get lost after all.” You sigh and then nod before you stretch and yawn.

Someone comes into the kitchen and says. “Hello Alfred, who’s the kid?” You look at the person talking and see a guy that looks around Alfred’s age and a some teenager following behind him. You try to get off from the stool, now bored out of your mind as Alfred talks to the other man while the teen notices you and goes over to help. He takes you off the stool and says. “What’s your name?”

You look at him dead in the eyes and then slap his thigh and say. “Tag!” You start booking it as you giggle, your game of tag now in session. The teen looks at you with wide eyes and starts to chase after you. Realizing that it was a mistake putting you on the ground. You go into a room and find that it’s a bedroom, you giggle as you put a pillow under the covers to trick the boy and then get under the bed.

He comes rushing in saying. “Hey, this isn’t funny. Come on, if you come out I’ll… uh, get Alfred to make you cookies? I don’t know. Uh, just come out. I’d rather not have Mr. Wayne or my dad scold me about letting some kid loose in the manor.”

He then sees the trap you laid out for him and as soon as he gets close to the bed you shoot your hands out to grab at his ankles, which makes him scream like a girl and practically jump away like some spider or grasshopper. You start giggling maniacally as he falls on to his butt. You then come out from under the bed as you say. “I got you!” In a sing songy voice as you sit next to him. The teen sighs and stands up, he dusts himself off and says. “Yeah you got-“ and then ambushes you by picking you up from your armpits and says. “Hah! In your face!”

You giggle some more as you whine “No” trying to wiggle out of the teen’s hold. After you calm down you look up at him and ask. “Hi! What’s your name?”

He replies with a small smirk saying. “I’m Luke Fox. And you? What’s your name you little rascal?”

You grin widely, like the Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland and say. “Y/n! And my last name is l/n! Nice to meet you!”

He smiles back and then holds you to his chest and starts to walk back to the kitchen as he says. “So… Bruce Wayne’s kid huh? I can tell. You look a lot like him. A lot smaller and cuter, but still.”

Your mischievous smile disappears and you instead, bury your face into his chest as you reply. “Yeah. Uncle Bennett said that too. I don’t care, I just want my daddy back.”

Luke looks at you a bit confused and then you explain to him what happened today. All the way from the moment you woke up to just right now. At some point during your retelling of the accounts of today, he stops walking leaving you two just standing in the middle of some hallway. After you finished he looks at you with the same expression those police officers that found you had, the same sad expression that Jimmy and Uncle tried to hide as well. You don’t like how it feels to be looked at like this. It makes your chest kinda heavy and your stomach weird. Luke holds you closer, staying silent for a bit before saying. “My mom makes me this really bomb ass hot cho- Shit I said a- Dammit! Fuck!”

When Luke groans at himself for cussing in front of a literal child you start to giggle. You smile and then tap his shoulder before whispering into his ear. “Daddy swears a lot too. Don’t worry, I won’t tell. Pinky swear!” As she raises her hand and pinky so they can swear on it together.

He chuckles and pinky swears with you, not long after you two enter the kitchen, with you still in his arms. You see that neither the man or Alfred noticed you or Luke were gone. You couldn’t care less however. At least you made your first friend. You then see someone else some into the kitchen, he’s tall and… Wow. He really does look like you. You wriggle in Luke’s arms, telling him to let you down. Meanwhile Bruce, the person people keep talking about, your supposed father, walks past you and Luke. His focus is on Alfred and Luke’s dad, Luke finally lets you down after teasing you a bit more and you slowly walk over to Bruce. You stare at his face as he talks to the other two men, he had the same spiky eyebrows as you. You’ve never seen someone with the same eyebrows as you.

You shift nervously before patting your clothes and hair down before tugging on his pant leg. You look up at him with a small hopeful smile. Bruce looks down at you and his eyes widen impossibly before he schools his face before giving you a smile, he opens his mouth to say something but you interrupt. “Hello! I am y/n l/n. We look alike! I like your eyes. They look like how mint tastes. Why are you so big? Will I get that big? Do you think I’ll be taller than you?”

He looks at you strangely, a bit surprised and a bit… Something else? Whatever it is it makes you kinda feel bad and you don’t like that. You fidget as he turns his attention towards Luke’s dad and Alfred. Talking about something else again. You look back at Luke and he looks a bit confused and slightly agitated, he then fixes his face and smiles at you before walking over and saying. “He’s probably just tired or something. How about I make something for you? Sandwich maybe?”

You nod and follow him to the fridge as you look through everything. He shows you some some sandwich ingredients taking the time to show you each one and answering your questions about it. He then makes the sandwich for you, although he’s slightly cringing as you bite into your “abomination sandwich”. Which is what he called your delicious sandwich, and is definitely NOT an abomination. You’re eating at the little island on the stool that’s as big as you and you see another kid walk in. He has black hair and pretty blue eyes, you wave hi and he looks at you confused and a bit judgmental. The kid then asks you. “Who are you?”

You answer back. “Y/n. What’s your name?”

“None of your business.” He replies in a snarky tone.

You look at him, surprised and then glare at him, before you can snap back Luke says. “That’s Dick. He’s gonna be your brother. Kinda. Also, come on Dick. Be nicer.”

Dick huffs and and grumbles “Fine.” before he goes over to the fridge to look through it. He gasp, offended by something. He then glares at you and asks. “Did you finish all the prosciutto? I was gonna have that as a snack, I was saving it for a good day!”

Before Luke can apologize for you, you look at Dick and say. “Well maybe you should’ve had a note on it or something! This is my first day here! I don’t know you people!”

Dick looks you up and down and then marches up to where you’re sitting and nabs half of your sandwich and takes a bite, it only takes a moment before he’s sputtering and coughing because of the overly salty and spicy sandwich. You look on with both anger and slight satisfaction, angry he stole your sandwich and satisfied that he’s in pain. Luke tries to hide a smile as he turns away and hides his trembling mouth with his hand.

The adults then turn to look at you three, wondering what the commotion is. Alfred sighs and goes over to try and calm down Dick while Bruce looks at you disapprovingly. You look at Bruce, offended and stick your tongue and blow a raspberry at him before going back to your sandwich, tearing into the sandwich like you were a hyena and the sandwich was your carcass. Luke chuckles at that before saying. “Come on, don’t be mean. He’s only had Dick for what? Less than a month?”

You look at Luke with appalled face and say. “He isn’t even a real dad?!”

Bruce sighs as he looks down and asks Alfred. “So? What’s the situation with her? And have you-“

You can see Luke looks at Bruce with a weird face, something like a cross of disappointment and disgust before turning to you, and using his body to cover your view of almost everyone in the room. He then says. “Hey, how about we go to the living room? I’ll take you there. We could watch a movie or something? Oh, my dad showed me this movie called Totoro. Or something, you look like you’d live it! Let’s see if I can-“

He starts talking idly, as if to fill in space. When your finished with your sandwich he takes you off the chair and hurriedly walks you out of the kitchen and into the living room. He has you sit close to him so you two could watch it on his phone. You barely get through the first half before his dad comes over to say. “Come on, Luke. It’s time for us to go.” Luke tries to ask for a bit more time. He nudges your shoulder and whispers. “Hey, do some puppy eyes come on.”

What the hell are puppy eyes, you think to yourself before tilting your head at him like a puppy. Luke’s dad rolls his eyes with an affectionate look on his face before saying. “It’s a school night kid. Plus, your mom would kill me if I let you stay out past curfew again.”

Luke throws his head back groans dramatically before saying. “All my other friends can stay out past 8-“

“Well I’m not their parents am I? I’m yours. Now I’ll be waiting in the car for you.” Luke’s dad then turns to you and ruffles your hair before saying. “It was nice to meet you little one. Have a good night.”

You nod at him, and the man nods back before going over to the coatrack, getting his coat and leaving. Luke looks at you with a small pout on his face he sighs before ruffling your hair too, which makes you smile. He then gets up with a groan, just like daddy does. You follow as he also goes to get his coat and hat he then puts on his stuff and says. “Guess I gotta go… Have a goodnight y/n. Take care of yourself.”

He then gives you a hug before leaving. You yell after him. “Good night Luke! Sleep well!”

He smiles at that and waves at you before getting into his dad’s car, driving off and leaving you in the manor. You go back inside and go back to the living area where you see Alfred. You walk up to him and tilt your head like a curious puppy, waiting for him to announce his intentions. Alfred smiles before he says. “I came to inform you that I have gotten your room ready. On another note, it is time for you to go to bed young lady.”

You put up a hand and in a serious tone of voice you say. “No. You must have forgotten our deal. I want a hot chocolate, a fancy one with cinnamon, heavy cream.”

Alfred raises an eyebrow and asks. “Really? If I recall our agreement was that I’d make you honeyed milk. How strange. I suppose I should get rid of the honeyed milk that I put in your room then?”

You vehemently shake your head and say. “N-No! That’s fine! I’ll drink it! It’s mine! You can’t take it back!”

Alfred then lets out a hum of consideration. “If you say so. Now come along. I must tuck you in before the hour.”

This man speaks funny. You like it. You then try to imitate him using the fanciest words you know, like anemone and hypertension. He laughs but you’re not sure whether it’s because of the accent or because you probably used the words wrong. Anyways he brings you to your new room and you gasp at how big it is, you hurriedly take off your shoes and put them right next to the door before you run straight for the bed and climb on to it, it’s so soft!

You then notice the hot milk on the bedside table, you crawl over and sit on the edge of the bed so you can take a sip. You sigh in delight at the taste, the milk is nice and creamy with a hint of vanilla and cinnamon as well as some honey to make it sweet. You yawn and get off the bed so you can walk over to Alfred. “Thank you, it’s really yummy. Can I have some pajamas now? I’m sleepy and so is Oliver-“

You then realize that you don’t have Oliver in your arms, and you can’t remember where you put him. Your eyes become blurry as tears fill your vision, you look up at Alfred and whine. “Where’s Oliver? I can’t remember where he is.. Can you help me find him?”

Alfred opens his mouth to say something but a beep comes from his phone, he sighs and says. “I will bring him soon, just lie down and-“

You interrupt him saying. “No! He’s always there when I sleep! I need him, if my daddy isn’t gonna be here then I need Oliver to be here at least!” You don’t like how Alfred is trying to hurry things up. You don’t like that daddy’s not here, you don’t like how Oliver’s not here, you hate that your favorite people are leaving and you HATE everything about this day. Sure you met new and nice people, but you want Daddy. You want him to kiss your face and tickle your tummy and hug you. You start sobbing and pulling on your h/c hair and trying your best to not choke on air.

Alfred looks at you sadly and then sighs, he then gets on one knee and says. “Miss y/n. Please stop. I will get Oliver for you, I will be right back. I promise. I will return with your dear Oliver and some old pajamas.”

You look back at him and nod as you sniffle. You sit on your bed and sip on your warm milk while Alfred leaves to go get Oliver and some pajamas. You wait, and wait. and wait some more. But he never comes. You accidentally fall asleep, finished with your drink and more tired than you’ve ever felt. That’s when you realized, no one’s gonna take care of you like daddy, no one’s gonna tuck you in, kiss your tears away, or any of the other things he used to do. You curl up and cry softly in the early morning light, mourning the loss of your father. Something that you didn’t know was possible until it happened.

—————————————————

I hope you like it! I already have the next few chapters planned so it will be angst for the next 3 or 4 chapters :)))

[levispersonalslave]

Hi. How are you? I love your Levi's story and your cute blog.

I would like to leave a request.

Ex boyfriend Levi x ex girlfriend reader

In which Levi ended a four-year relationship with the reader. And after two years they meet again.

During these two years, the reader went abroad to study and when she returns to her hometown, she opens a bakery that serves sweets, coffee and tea. A very cute bakery.

Her friend invites her to a company party where her husband works. But destiny plays tricks, and Levi works at the same company. When she sees him, he is 'accompanied' by a woman.

Both, Levi and the reader, still love each other and have very strong feelings for each other.

Ps: Levi wears glasses.

I leave the resolution and development of the story up to you.

Thanks and have a good Sunday and an excellent start to the week.

Don't be in a hurry to write. Take your time.

HI DEARRR this is absolutely ADORABLE and im in LOVE with that header omg,, I HOPE THIS IS TO YOUR LIKING MY LOVE ‹𝟹

ᝰ.ᐟ 𝐍𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐔𝐬𝐞 𝐚 𝐌𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐲 𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐩𝐞~!

𝐸𝑥-𝑏𝑜𝑦𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑!𝐿𝑒𝑣𝑖 𝐴𝑐𝑘𝑒𝑟𝑚𝑎𝑛 × 𝐸𝑥-𝑔𝑖𝑟𝑙𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑!𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟, 𝑀𝑜𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑛 𝐴𝑢, 𝐸𝑥’𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑠, 1.3𝑘 𝑤𝑐

The scent of vanilla and cinnamon lingers in the air, curling around you like a warm embrace. It settles into every corner of the bakery, clinging to the wooden counters, the glass display, the freshly wiped tables. Even as the evening rush fades, leaving behind only a handful of customers, the air remains thick with the sweetness of sugar and nostalgia.

With a slow breath, you wipe your hands over your apron and step back, surveying your work. Trays of golden pastries rest behind the glass, their delicate edges catching the soft glow of the overhead lights. This bakery—your bakery—is everything you once dreamed of. A fresh start; a sanctuary built with your own hands.

And yet, no matter how much sugar and warmth you pour into it, some ghosts refuse to stay buried.

“Are you even listening to me?”

Hitch’s voice cuts through your thoughts, pulling you back to the present. You turn to see her leaning against the counter, arms crossed, a thin brow arched in mock exasperation.

“Ah, sorry,” you say with a sheepish smile.

She rolls her eyes. “I was inviting you to a party. My friend’s company is hosting it tonight. Fancy food, good music, and a whole room full of pretty corporate guys debating things we’ll pretend to understand.”

You hesitate, already shaking your head. “I don’t know, hun. . . I have an early morning tomorrow.”

Hitch groans, throwing her head back. “You always have an early morning. You work too much. Come on, you need a night out.”

You do work too much. You know that. But the thought of stepping into a crowded room filled with unfamiliar faces—and the possibility of familiar ones—is enough to make you hesitate. Two years abroad gave you distance, but not immunity. There are still some things your heart refuses to forget.

Still, when you meet Hitch’s expectant gaze, something in it makes you waver.

And fate, with its cruel sense of humor, will happily remind you why you spent so long running.

“. . .Fine then,” you relent, untying your apron. “But only for a little while.”

Hitch grins, triumphant. “That’s all I needed to hear.”

The venue is the kind of place that whispers elegance in hushed tones—polished floors gleaming under soft golden light, chandeliers dripping with crystal, laughter weaving through the air like silk. The clink of champagne glasses hums in the background, mingling with the gentle murmur of conversation.

You adjust the strap of your dress, exhaling as you follow Hitch inside.

And then you see him.

The world tilts, just for a moment.

He stands near the bar, half-listening to a conversation, his posture effortlessly composed. He hasn’t changed much. The sharp cut of his suit, the quiet intensity in his gaze, the way his fingers curl loosely around the rim of his glass—it’s all painfully familiar.

For a fleeting second, you almost convince yourself he’s just a memory, a ghost conjured by your own mind.

But then your eyes shift, and you notice the woman beside him.

She’s beautiful, the kind of beautiful that turns heads without trying—wrapped in a sleek red gown, dark hair tumbling in soft waves. One hand rests lightly on his arm as she leans in to say something.

He responds with a quiet smile, and your heart clenches.

You tear your gaze away, fixing your eyes on anything else—the flickering candlelight, the tray of champagne flutes gliding past—but it’s far too late.

He’s already seen you.

Your breath catches as his gaze finds yours across the room.

For a heartbeat, the party disappears. The chatter, the music, the laughter—it all fades into something distant, unimportant. There’s shock in his expression at first, then something softer—something dangerously close to longing. Hitch is speaking beside you, but her voice barely reaches your ears. You take a step back, pulse thrumming against your ribs.

He hesitates, fingers twitching at his side before he murmurs something to the woman beside him. She nods, stepping away without protest.

And then he’s moving toward you. Your breath wavers.

You turn, reaching blindly for the nearest tray, grasping a glass of champagne with fingers that tremble just slightly. A sip does nothing to steady you.

You turn sharply, needing distance, needing air—anything to steady the erratic rhythm of your pulse. Your gaze flickers toward the nearest tray of champagne flutes, and you reach for one, fingers trembling just slightly. But in your haste, you miscalculate the movement.

The glass tilts, slipping from your grasp.

You lurch forward instinctively, hands reaching out—

And collide with someone.

Strong hands catch your arms, steadying you before you can stumble. A warm, familiar touch.

“Oh, I’m sorry—” The words die in your throat the second your eyes rise to meet his.

Up close, he’s even more overwhelming. The sharp cut of his jaw, the faint crease between his brows, the way his fingers tighten just slightly before he lets go. His scent—clean, crisp, edged with something undeniably familiar—wraps around you like a ghost of the past.

His touch vanishes, but the sensation lingers, branding itself onto your skin.

For a moment, neither of you speak. The party hums on around you, distant and insignificant. The space between you is thick with everything unspoken.

“Hello,” he says at last, his voice warm, careful.

You swallow. “Hi.”

A pause.

“I didn’t know you were back.”

“Been a few months,” you answer softly. “I opened a bakery.”

His lips part slightly, and you can see the memory flicker behind his eyes. You can almost hear his voice from years ago, teasing yet certain: You’ll be amazing at it. He used to say he could already picture it—a place that smelled like sugar and cinnamon, with soft jazz playing in the background.

He had believed in your dreams before you had.

Another waiter passes by, this time with a tray of desserts. Without thinking, you reach for a small lemon tart.

The moment you realize what you’ve done, you almost move to put it back—but when you look up, his gaze is already on the pastry in your hand.

Your eyes meet again, and your fingers tighten around the delicate crust. “This was always your favorite,” you murmur.

A muscle in his jaw twitches. “Yeah.”

Silence stretches between you, heavy with nostalgia. Something unspoken lingers in the air, something fragile and dangerous all at once.

And then, before you can stop yourself, the question slips from your lips.

“Is she your girlfriend?”

He blinks, surprised. His eyes flicker toward the woman in red, then back to you.

“No,” he says simply. “Just a coworker.”

Relief rushes through you, quick and sharp. You barely have time to smother it before it betrays you. It doesn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter. You don’t belong to him anymore, but your heart hasn’t gotten the memo.

“I should—”

“Can we talk?”

Your pulse stumbles. “Levi. . .”

“I know this isn’t the place,” he says quietly. “But—” He exhales, tugging at his cuffs. “Two years, and I still—”

“Please don’t.” Your voice is barely a whisper. “Don’t say it.”

Because if he does, you might break.

And yet, standing here, with the taste of lemon on your tongue and the past so close you could touch it, a truth settles deep in your chest.

You still love him. Maybe you always will.

He takes a slow step closer. “Then let me show you instead.”

The party buzzes on, indifferent to the moment unfolding between you. Two people standing on the edge of something unfinished.

You could walk away.

Or you could let fate take the wheel.

And maybe—just maybe—find your way back to him. Because the best recipes are a little messy, and some things are worth making from scratch.

⊱ 𝑇𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⊰ @the-traveling-poet, @pinkberryfox, 𝑑𝑚 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑎𝑑𝑑𝑒𝑑 ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭

ᵎ!ᵎ 𝑑𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑏𝑦 @kodaswrld ᵎ!ᵎ

[starogeorgina]

𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮

Pairings: Jacaerys Velaryon x reader, Criston Cole x reader

Warnings: Swearing, smut, character death, mentions of blood, incest

1.01

Soft moans fall from your mouth as you touch yourself. It was a sinful act, but you were so frustrated that you needed a healthy way of getting rid of all your pent-up anger before you exploded.

Even more sinful, you think of Jacaerys instead of your husband.

Rubbing at your clit, you think of the last time you saw him, how his cock stretched you perfectly as you rode him, and how decorations of love fell from your lips so easily.

It was never your intention to have sex; you’d only gone to his chamber to apologise for Aemond provoking him so childishly during the first meal both sides of your family had attended together since your wedding. You kissed Jacaerys's swollen knuckles tenderly, and soon you were straddling his lap and muffling his moans with your mouth. Afterwards he cleaned up the sticky mess between your legs, a mixture of his own seed and your arousal with his tongue.

Hearing a knock at the door, you jump up flustered. You fix the top of your nightdress and pray it isn’t Aemond; he would instantly know what you were doing.

The door opens, and Helaena walks inside. “Jaehaera won’t settle for the night; can the children spend the night together?”

You hated Aegon, but Helaena and her children were innocent, and it was best to keep things as normal as possible for all the children. “I’ve just put them to bed, but I’m sure they will be awake with excitement when I tell them.”

—

Your heart beats rapidly as you beg for someone to come and help. Your throat had become so raw from screaming that your voice was beginning to break. A trail of blood is left behind as your bare feet scrape against the cold stone floor; your loose nightdress was now coated in blood and clung to you like a second skin.

When you reach the bottom of the staircase, the only sound you can hear beside your own panting is the wails of your two children, their cries echoing in the deserted castle halls. Aerys was just a babe, far too young to understand what he had witnessed, but Cassana would always remember.

Turning another corner, you see a figure exiting a bedchamber. “Ser Criston, Ser Criston!”

Startled, he takes in your appearance, and for the first time the knight's eyes aren’t full of hatred when he looks at you. He may have helped usurp your mother's throne, but he was still human.

You gasp for air, your chest heaving as you try to find your voice. “My boy! My boy, they have taken my boy!”

“What is—” Alicent appears in the doorway behind the knight. She claps a hand over her mouth. “Mother, have mercy, what happened?”

You look between the two of them, and seeing how flustered she appears and how ashamed the knight looks, it immediately clicks why the knight is at the dowager queen's bedchamber during the night and not wearing his armour.

Alicent goes to stroke your youngest cheek, but you step away from them. “Don’t touch him! Venomous snakes, the lot of you! This is all your fault!”

—

Still afraid you run without stopping, hearing Criston and Alicent calling your name only makes you go faster, desperate to get away from them. Ser Criston was supposed to be protecting his king's family, but instead he chose to soil his white cloak.

And Aemond was patrolling the city on Vhagar.

When you get closer to the throne room, Aegon’s voice becomes clearer. He was spending his night making a mockery of his late father, your grandsire King Viserys, and all of House Targaryen by behaving like a drunk idiot while his own kin was being slaughtered.

“Aegon, Aegon!”

“I believe that’s my niece I can hear,” he chuckles.

His pathetic excuse of a kingsguard jested, “Perhaps she’s gotten bored of the prince’s cock and wants to know what it’s like to ride a real dragon!”

All the fools in the room laugh.

“Aegon!”

You run into the throne room and find him casually lying across the throne, completely unconcerned about the sharp spikes that could pierce his skin, surrounded by a new and pathetic excuse of a king guard.

“Aegon.”

The amusement quickly falls from his face when his eyes land on you. He stands up; his mouth twitches, but he says nothing.

“Aegon,” you sob hysterically. “I tried to stop them; I tried!”

He gets off the throne and walks towards you, “Who?”

“I don’t know. I screamed, and nobody came. They were in the twins' nursery.” Your breathing becomes ragged. “Laenor begged me to help him, but I couldn’t. I tried to swap my life for his, but they wouldn’t let me. A son for a son.”

“The twins…” His voice cracks. “What—what happened?”

“They… they took Laenor and Jaehaerys—” One of the older handmaidens tries to take your other children from your arms, but you refuse, “Stop it!”

Aegon grips your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “What did they do to Jaehaerys?”

“They took our son’s head.”

—

You cling to one of the pillars in the council chamber while the greens continue to discuss how to use your little son's death to their advantage. Aegon was against the idea, but Otto was worming his way in, taking advantage of a grieving parent.

They wanted to blame your mother.

She wouldn’t do this.

Not to you.

You wanted to be angry at Aegon for all the horrid things he had called your mother, and part of you did blame him, but after witnessing him collapse in the throne room, it was hard not to pity him. Aegon wasn’t the best father, but he also wasn’t the worst. He and Helaena were also victims in this.

“Perhaps we should hear from the princess,” Lord Larys says, steering the conversation away from how many enemies the greens have.

“I want my mother.”

You glance around the room, and everyone avoids making eye contact, aside from Grand Maester Orwyle. “You’ve already said that, princess.”

“What else am I supposed to say?” Tears sting your eyes. “I want my mother; I want Jacaerys. I just want to go home, but you people won’t let me!”

“This has been your home for many years,” Alicent’s tone is sharp.

“Even now, you offer me no sympathy or kindness,” you laugh maliciously. “I’d say you’d used up all your empathy on Helaena, but you are here forging the deaths of two innocent children into blades to strike at my mother. Those men only came tonight because of a war you started.“

The room falls silent until Otto clears his throat. “The princess is in shock—”

“Do not try to justify my words,” you snap. “I will not bow to a council that secretly conspired and undermined King Viserys wishes by usurping his chosen heir!” You let go of the pillar and place your hand over your stomach. “He wasn’t just a boy; he was my baby, my firstborn! And now he’s dead.”

Over the years you flew back and forth between the keep and Dragonstone, but since the day your mother's throne was usurped, you were forbidden from even leaving the castle.

Fingers trembling, you kneel down and reach for Aegon’s hand. “Kostilus, kostilus, ivestragī nyke return naejot Zaldrīzesdōron. Nyke don’t care qilōni sits va se dēmalion; nyke sepār jaelagon ñuha muña. Nyke don’t feel ȳgha kesīr. I’m zūgagon hen zirȳla. He’s se drīve mirre hen bisa ēza massitas, kostilus, aegon, uncle. Sepār ivestragī nyke gūrogon ñuha riñar naejot se zaldrīzes ripo.” (Please, please, let me return to Dragonstone. I don’t care who sits on the throne; I just want my mother. I don’t feel safe here. I’m scared of him. He’s the reason all of this has happened, please, Aegon, uncle. Just let me take my children to the dragon pit)

Tears roll down Aegon’s cheek, but he doesn’t say anything. His bloodshot eyes suddenly focus on something behind you, and without turning around, you know it’s Aemond; you can feel his gaze burning into the back of your head.

“You issi dāez naejot jikagon whenever jaelā, ābrazȳrys, yn se riñar kessa umbagon kesīr.” (You are free to go whenever you want, wife, but the children will remain here)

You hated him; you hated him more than Aegon and Alicent combined. He is the one who killed Luke and caused more blood to spill. The men, blood and cheese, said they were debt collectors and had come to take revenge on Prince Aemond Targaryen.

“He’s dead. They took his head, Aemond,” you storm towards him, shoving him hard in the chest, but he doesn’t flinch. “They took my son’s head when it should have been yours! Do you even care that Laenor and Jaehaerys are dead? Do you even feel anything?”

He says nothing.

You wipe at your eyes and nose. “I’m going to retire for the evening. I suggest you don’t visit the children’s nursery.”

—

“The larger one strangled my bedmaid.”Your eyes are heavy and swollen from crying so much the last few days. “They tried to make Helaena choose which child to kill. After they killed my boy, she chose Maelor. They… they taunted him, told him his mother wants him dead.”

“Yet they took little Jaehaerys’s head.”

Children’s toys scatter the floor of your bedchamber. Lip trembling, you pick up Laenor’s, a wooden seahorse that your grandsire had made for him. “I never thought anything would hurt more than losing my father, and in the space of a few weeks both Luke and my grandsire have died, my mother lost her babe, and now my sweet son has been taken from me.”

“I’m glad you’re able to find comfort in me, princess.”

Scoffing, you shake your head; you weren’t a fool. Larys Strong wasn’t to be trusted, but he could be useful. He once told you those who are never to speak must learn to observe, and that’s exactly what you’ve done the last few years. “Do you think my husband is stupid?”

“Of course not.”

“I do; he chased a boy on a dragon five times smaller than his own and had the audacity to act surprised that both Luke and Arrax are dead. Vhagar killed them because it’s what her rider wanted.”

Over the years, you’ve been careful to observe how he uses people and noticed his affection for the queen. The lord cocks his head to the side. “What is it you want?”

“They say Harrenhal is a cursed place; I suppose you must agree. The fire that killed your father and brother was the one in the damp castle since Balerion ended the line of Harren the Black.”

A wicked smirk spreads across his face. “You’ve been paying attention; I’m glad.”

“Hmm,” you look away from him to the lit fire, which was providing the majority of the light in the room. “We both know regardless of who sits on the throne, more blood will spill, and that queen and her king consort will bring fire and blood.”

“Strong words.”

The way he emphasises the word strong is supposed to get under your skin, but you let it slide. Out of the four children of Laenor Velaryon and Rhaenyra Targaryen, you were the only one who doesn’t have ‘strong’ features, which is probably the only reason Alicent wanted you to marry her son.

“I’ll speak plainly,” you turn and stare directly into his menacing eyes. “Help me, and I will have you spared when my mother reclaims her castle. I should add that I simply do not care if you tell the green council; I don’t think anyone would be surprised to know the daughter of the queen they usurped is plotting against them.”

“It could be some time before the gods decide who sits on the throne; what can you offer me in the meantime?”

“Information. Help me cause chaos within the greens council, and I’ll tell you who Alicent Hightower is fucking.”

[crdteezv]

The Project - Haechan + Ten

Paring:  !popular guy! haechan x ! popular guy! ten x f! reader

Genre: college! au, smut

Synopsis: You're paired with the most popular guys in your school, Ten and Haechan, for a group project.  Everyone seems to love them and fall for their charm but you simply couldn’t understand why. But now, you’re entangled between two best friends, caught in their pull…

 Warnings: smut. !teasing dom! haechan/ten, they’re both best friends, the reader can be a little shy at times, sub reader, mention/use of alcohol, dirty talk, teasing, praise/ slight degradation, heavy cumplay(you have been warned…) (3some), oral (f. giving), thigh riding, edging, hair pulling, manhelded, light voyeurism, slight dacryphilia, drunk/unprotected sex 

Word Count: 10.5k words

A/N: Listen I made this fic to feed into my own delusions because I want them both so bad 😭🙏🏾. It’s the way I never see anyone make a fic of the both of them…

At first, the library was silent, except for the soft rustling of pages and the quiet footsteps of those browsing the shelves. You sat at a wooden table near the back, chin propped on your hand, eyes flicking between the textbook in front of you and the half-empty Word document glowing dimly on your laptop. The project was due next week, and despite your better judgment, you’d somehow end up stuck with the most well-known people in your school: Ten and Haechan.

Everyone at the college loved them—Ten for his effortless charm and quick wit, and Haechan for his playful smirk and endless energy. Together, they were practically irresistible. You, however, weren’t so easily impressed. Sure, they were undeniably attractive—maybe even annoyingly so, but their constant antics were exhausting. 

Ten lounged across from you, lazily twirling a pen between his fingers as he skimmed through a stack of notes. His dark hair fell into his eyes, and every so often, he’d push it back with an easy flick of his wrist. Meanwhile, Haechan slouched to your left, half-heartedly typing while humming a pop song under his breath. They were supposed to help with the presentation, but all they did was interrupt and bicker.

“Seriously, can you guys focus?” you snapped, patience wearing thin.

Haechan huffed, crossing his arms. “Tell him to stop acting like he’s some kind of gaming expert.” 

Ten scoffed, leaning back. “I can’t help it if I’m just naturally better.” 

“You’re not,” Haechan shot back. 

“Your aim is trash.” 

“And yet, I still clutched that last round,” Ten said smugly. “

That was lag!”

You groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Oh my god, can you two drop it and actually help? You’re annoying everyone.”

Haechan snickered, leaning back in his chair. “Relax. No one cares. They’re too busy pretending to study while sneaking glances at me and Ten.”

You rolled your eyes. “Maybe if you spent less time worrying about your stupid little video game, we’d get something done.”

Ten leaned forward, resting his chin on his palm, eyes glittering with amusement. “Are you always this uptight, or are you planning hard to get and you secretly love being in our group?”

That was the last straw. “I don’t love anything about this group, except how fast I’m leaving once we’re done.”

Your voice had risen just enough to catch the librarian’s attention. She shot you a sharp glare over her glasses, arms crossed in clear disapproval.

“Enough. Take your noise elsewhere—you’re too loud.”

Before you could protest, she was already ushering you, Haechan, and Ten toward the exit. You muttered apologies, but it was clear you weren’t welcome back anytime soon.

Once outside, you whirled on them. “Great. Where are we supposed to work now?”

Ten and Haechan were laughing, clearly not taking you seriously.

“Oh, you think this is funny?” you snapped.

Haechan tried to collect himself, but his grin gave him away. “Sorry, it’s just… we’ve didn’ never seen you this mad before.”

“Well, maybe that’s because I actually wanted to start this project, and neither of you has even looked at it,” you huffed.

That seemed to guilt them—at least a little. Ten placed a hand on your shoulder, offering a small smile. “Hey, we’re sorry for the dumb arguments. It’s always this guy’s fault for starting them anyway.”

“Hey!” Haechan protested, offended.

You chuckled despite yourself, feeling a bit better. With a sigh, you said, “Come on, let’s just work at my dorm.”

They exchanged glances before nodding.

Ten smirked. “Good idea. At least your dorm won’t have a cranky librarian.”

You all laughed as you headed off together.

Back in your apartment dorm, the air felt heavier, more intimate. The space seemed to amplify the tension, especially knowing you’d be stuck with Ten and Haechan for the next few hours, your sanctuary invaded.

Trying to ignore their amused chatter, you moved through the space, heading to your room to change into something more comfortable—a cropped top and loose shorts. It was nothing unusual, but when you stepped back out, you noticed their eyes lingering.

Haechan’s usual smirk faltered for just a second, his gaze flicking from your bare waist to your thighs before he quickly looked away. Ten, on the other hand, didn’t even try to hide it. His eyes roamed over you with an intensity that sent a prickle down your spine, a slow smile tugging at his lips.

“Nice outfit,” he said casually, leaning back against the wall. His tone was light, but there was something else in his gaze—something new.

“Yeah,” Haechan added, his voice quieter than usual. “It’s… cute.”

You crossed your arms, ignoring the sudden warmth in your face. “Thanks… now let's focus, we have a lot of work to do.”

But as the evening dragged on, the shift in the air became impossible to ignore. Ten’s gaze lingered a little too long, and Haechan’s teasing remarks carried a different edge. You became hyper-aware of every move, every accidental brush of skin as you worked side by side. And though you’d never admit it, a small part of you didn’t entirely mind.

You start to wonder if you can even handle being in a group with them…

A few days had passed, and the three of you had gradually started working more on the project together. But today, it was just you and Ten. Haechan was stuck at soccer practice so he wasn’t able to make it. You couldn’t ignore the tension between you.

Ten sat across from you at the dining table, his dark eyes scanning his screen, though his focus seemed divided. You could feel his gaze lingering—on your face, your hands, the curve of your neck.

“Something wrong?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady as you typed away.

“No.” He leaned back in his chair, stretching with an exaggerated sigh. The hem of his hoodie lifted slightly, revealing a sliver of toned skin. “Just thinking about how weird it is without Haechan here. It’s so quiet.”

It was noticeably quieter without Haechan filling every silence with endless chatter.

“Maybe that’s a good thing,” you muttered, glancing up at him. “We might actually get something done.”

Ten’s lips curled into a slow, almost dangerous smile. “You don’t like working with him?”

“I don’t like either of you, to be honest. But I don’t have a choice,” you corrected.

His gaze sharpened, watching you intently, and it was starting to unravel something inside you.

“Are you always like this?”

“Like what?”

“This cranky,” he teased. “Every time we work on this project, you never loosen up.”

“Well, I wouldn’t be if I wasn’t the one doing all the work. “You two barely help as it is and never focus when I try to talk to you about it.”

Ten pushed his laptop aside, folding his arms on the table as he leaned in closer, his eyes tracing over your features. “I can fix that,” he murmured. “I’ll start paying more attention.” His gaze flickered downward, lingering just a moment too long.

You shifted in your seat, avoiding his eyes.

“You know, you’re different when we’re alone.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re… more shy,” he said.

His gaze dipped briefly before returning to yours, amusement dancing in his eyes. “And you’re more on edge…maybe even nervous?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He smirked. “Then why can’t you look me in the eye, love?”

The pet name caught you off guard, leaving you momentarily speechless. Before you could respond, his fingers grazed the back of your hand—a fleeting touch, but one that sent a trail of warmth up your arm.

The air between you shifted. The room felt smaller, the distance between you shrinking even though neither of you had moved.

“That’s what I thought,” he murmured.

“I—” you started, but the way he was looking at you—like you were the only thing in the world worth focusing on—made your voice falter. He got up from his seat and made his way over to you and sat beside you.

He then leaned in, closing the space between you. His lips met yours in a slow, deliberate kiss. His hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, deepening it. Before you knew it, you were on the couch, straddling his lap.

Ten’s hands found your waist as your fingers tangled in his hair. The soft groan he let out when you shifted against him sent a shiver down your spine. You tested the friction between you, and his fingers tightened their grip, anchoring you in place. His lips left yours, trailing hot kisses along your jaw and down your neck.

“Fuck, Ten… we shouldn’t be doing this. We have so much—”

Your words cut off with a sharp inhale as his hands slid lower, cupping your ass.

A quiet whimper escaped before you could stop it.

“Oh, come on, sweetie,” he murmured, a smirk tugging at his lips. “We’re just taking a little break, right?”

Typical. He always found a way to get what he wanted.

“Besides… you could use one after working so hard on this project, don’t you think?”

You could only nod, wrapping your arms around his neck, and pulling him closer. Your hips rolled against him, and his grip on you tightened. He let out a low groan, his control slipping.

“Mhm, since you love grinding on me so much,” he murmured, his voice low, “how about you do that for me on my thigh?”

You blinked, taken aback. “You can’t be serious…”

“Very.” His gaze darkened, sharp, and unwavering.

Hesitantly, you straddled his thigh, your body already aching for more. As you began to move, the friction sent a rush of pleasure through you, a soft whimper slipping past your lips. Ten’s grip on your waist tightened, his breath hitching.

“God, you look so good like this,” he coaxed.

“Shut up—”

He flexed his thigh beneath you, and the sudden pressure made you moan—a sound that caught both of you off guard.

“Aww,” he cooed, voice dripping with amusement. “It’s cute that you think you can talk back to me.” His fingers traced slow circles over your hips. “Besides… you like the attention I’m giving you.”

You finally understood the pull he had on people. He always knew exactly what to say, effortlessly drawing them in, keeping them hanging on his every word. And somehow, you’d fallen right into his hands.

Your movements quickened, the tension in your body coiling tighter. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, barely able to hold yourself together.

“Mhm, are you close, my pretty girl?” he hummed and all you could do was nod.

“Then let go for me.”

With a final roll of your hips, pleasure crashed over you, leaving you trembling against him. You barely registered the mess you had made, too lost in the lingering high.

“Damn,” Ten chuckled, running a hand through your hair. “You were really pent up, huh?”

Embarrassment flooded through you. You couldn’t even look at him. You had completely fallen into his trap.

“Whatever,” you muttered, scrambling off him. "Can we just clean up now and actually get back to work on this project?"

He laughed and agreed, the teasing glint in his eyes never fading. But as you got up to grab a washcloth, he caught your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

“Just know this isn’t over,” he murmured, his voice lower, more serious. “We’ll continue this another time.”

You stared at him, startled by the weight of his words—like he meant every single one. Slowly, you nodded, signaling your understanding.

The two of you cleaned up and got back to work, but no matter how hard you tried to focus, you couldn’t shake what had just happened. And the worst part? You weren’t sure if you wanted to.

A few days later…

Haechan showed up at your dorm much earlier than expected, that same cocky look on his face as he breezed in, making himself at home. You should’ve been annoyed, but strangely, you weren’t. 

"Where’s Ten?" he asked, walking right past you and flopping onto your bed like he actually lives here.

“He’s coming later,” you muttered, trying to ignore how his legs sprawled out, taking up way too much of the bed.

“Guess it’s just us then,” he said, his smirk widening as he propped himself up on his elbows. “You don’t look thrilled.”

You rolled your eyes and tried to focus on the project in front of you, but before you could, Haechan was leaning over your shoulder, his breath brushing your ear as he glanced at your screen.

“So, how was working with Ten last time? I bet you missed me,” he teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

You couldn’t help but think back to the last time you’d worked with Ten. The memory of it made heat rise in your chest, and you wondered, just for a moment, if Ten had told Haechan about what had happened between you two.

“Not in the slightest,” you shot back. “I get more work done with him than I ever do with you.”

“So you like him more than me?” Haechan asked, his voice laced with a mock pout.

“Well, I didn’t say all that…” You paused, looking down at your hands. “It’s just quieter when you’re not around. And I will admit, I sometimes kind of miss—actually, never mind.”

You could feel his eyes on you, and you knew exactly what he was thinking. He wanted to tease you about whatever you were about to say.

“Don’t stop now, sweetheart. What were you going to say?” His voice turned flirtatious, the kind of tone that made your stomach twist in ways you hated to admit.

You hated when he did this—when he played with you, knowing just how to push your buttons. He loved seeing you become a mess, trying to keep your composure while he unraveled you bit by bit.

“It’s nothing, alright? Now, unlike you, I actually care about passing, so can you please stop teasing me and help me with this work?” you snapped, trying to get back to the project.

But instead of listening, he swiveled your chair to face him, locking eyes with you. His usual playful gaze was now replaced with something deeper, something more intense. He was towering over you as you sat up to look at him, his hands resting firmly on the armrests of your chair as he leaned down, looking at you with an intensity that made you catch your breath.

“Forget about the work for a second and focus on me,” he murmured, with one of his hands slowly creeping down to your thigh. “I want to know what you were going to say.”

Your breath hitched, and your heart raced as his thumb moved in slow circles against your skin. You couldn’t find your words. His touch felt like fire, and it left you frozen.

“I was going to say that I kind of missed you…” The words slipped out before you could stop them, and you immediately regretted it.

He gave a low, amused chuckle. “Wait, really? I thought you didn’t like me because I always talk your ear off. ”His tone was playful, but there was a hint of disbelief in his voice.

You swallowed hard, fingers gripping the edge of the chair. “Well, I don’t mind it, to be honest. You kind of help me unwind when you make me laugh. Your jokes really do help, and they make me forget about the project for a bit. Not that Ten isn’t funny... he is, just quieter and mostly keeps to himself, you know?”

Haechan was quiet for a moment, clearly surprised by your confession. He genuinely thought you didn’t like him. But now, hearing you say this, something shifted in his expression. Maybe you’d grown a little soft for him after all.

Haechan’s eyes softened, just for a moment, before the smirk returned, wider and more confident than before. He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear as his fingers lingered on your thigh, the contact sending a jolt of heat through you.

“Didn’t think I had that effect on you,” he murmured, voice low and teasing.

You tried to steady your breath, feeling his proximity like a weight pressing against you. Every inch of your body screamed for you to move away, but something in you didn’t want to. Something was pulling you in, and you couldn’t quite understand why.

You tried to steady your breath, feeling his proximity like a weight pressing against you. Every inch of your body screamed for you to move away, but something in you didn’t want to. Something was pulling you in, and you couldn’t quite understand why.

“I bet you do this to all the girls you mess with,” you said, rolling your eyes as you turned your chair back around to focus on the work.

Haechan chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your skin as he leaned down, his lips brushing your ear in a way that made it hard to think. “Only the ones I really want,” he replied, his voice low, almost a whisper.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, trying to focus on the work in front of you, but it felt impossible with him so close. The heat from his body, the way his breath ghosted over your skin—it was all too much.

"Why are you doing this?" you managed to ask, your voice barely above a whisper as your typed away on your laptop.

His lips curled into that familiar smirk, but now it had a sharper edge. "Because I can," he said simply, his thumb making slow, deliberate circles on your skin. "And because you haven’t told me to stop."

You gasped at his words, but couldn’t bring yourself to push him away. Instead, something inside you shifted, and the line between annoyance and attraction started to come together.

"I-I thought you were here to help me with the project," you said, trying to break the tension with a half-hearted attempt at humor.

"Who says we can’t multitask?" His grin widened as he moved to side of you so he can look down at you and see the bashful look on your face. "Besides, I think we’re doing a pretty good job of it already."

Your pulse quickened, and you realized you weren’t sure where this was headed anymore. The teasing and flirting were growing more intense, more real, and you couldn’t decide if you wanted him to stop or keep going.

Before you could respond, he lowered his voice again, towering down to the side of your face with his lips dangerously close to your ear. “So, what’s it gonna be? You want me to help with the work... or something else?”

The question hung in the air, thick with anticipation, and you knew there was no turning back now.

Haechan's eyes never left yours, his smirk deepening as he slowly, deliberately, moved closer. His hands found the armrests of your chair, trapping you in place as he loomed over you, his presence all-consuming. Your breath hitched, heart hammering against your ribs as the heat between you both thickened.

“I’m still waiting for an answer,” he murmured, his voice like velvet, wrapping around you, making it impossible to ignore the way he was looking at you—like he had already won.

Your fingers twitched over your laptop keyboard, but your mind was blank. The work in front of you might as well have been in another language for all the attention you could give it. Haechan knew it too. He could see the way your lips parted slightly, the way your body betrayed you, leaning in despite yourself.

He then knelt down for a kiss.

Soft at first, like he was testing the waters, but when you didn’t pull away, he tilted his head and deepened it. His lips moved against yours with slow, intoxicating confidence, his tongue slipping between them, tasting you, claiming you. A low hum of satisfaction rumbled from his chest as he pressed closer, bending down to make up for the height difference while you sat frozen in your chair.

But he didn’t want to keep bending down to reach you.

Without warning, he grabbed your laptop, placed it on the bed, and shoved everything off your desk, letting it scatter carelessly.

 He grabbed you, and picked you up  as if it was nothing. A small gasp left your lips, but it was swallowed by the intensity of his kiss as he carried you to the desk.

“Hey—” you barely got the protest out before he set you down on the cleared desk, stepping between your thighs and pulling you flush against him.

“You’ll live,” he murmured against your lips, his hands already roaming, fingers tracing the hem of your shirt, gripping your waist like he owned you.

Your hands found his broad shoulders, gripping onto him for stability, but really, you just wanted to feel him, to confirm this was real. He pulled back slightly, just enough to look at you, his dark eyes flickering with something dangerous. “You taste even better than I thought,” he admitted, smirking as he brushed his thumb over your bottom lip, teasing, testing.

You swallowed hard, your skin burning from his touch, from the way he was looking at you like he wanted to devour you. You wrapped your legs around his waist, holding him close, not wanting him to leave.

 “You’re so full of yourself,” you muttered, though your voice lacked any real bite.

“Only because I know what I want.”

He was kissing you again, harder this time, hungrier. His hands slid up your thighs, gripping them as he pressed closer, trapping you between his body and the desk.You couldn’t think, couldn’t focus on anything but the way he tasted, the way his fingers gripped your skin and how his tongue moved with yours as if he had all the time in the world.

Then, suddenly, he pulled away, only to take your place in the chair. He sat down, his hands gripping your hips as he pulled you closer, settling you on his lap like you belonged there.

“There,” he breathed, looking up at you with hooded eyes, his fingers brushing your hair back before trailing down your spine. “Much better.”

Your heart raced in your chest, your fingers threading through his dark hair as you looked down at him, breathless, caught between disbelief and raw desire. The way he gazed up at you, lips swollen from kissing, hands on your hips, fingers grazing the hem of your shirt—it was clear this wasn’t over.

Haechan’s touch grew bolder, his fingers slipping under your shirt, leaving a trail of fire on your skin as he leaned in, his lips brushing your neck. His hand moved lower, fingertips skimming the waistband of your shorts before slipping inside. Your breath caught as his fingers found your heat, his touch deliberate and teasing.

“Look at you,” he whispered, voice thick with desire, his fingers pressing where you needed them most. “Already so wet for me.”

Your grip on his shoulders tightened as he worked you slowly, his fingers curling, coaxing pleasure from you with each calculated stroke. The way he watched you, reveling in your little reactions. Your hips moved against his hand, chasing the sensation, but he kept you on the edge, never giving you quite enough.

Just as you felt yourself getting closer to the edge, a sharp knock at your front door broke the moment.

Both of you froze. Your breath was ragged, your body trembling as you tried to make sense of reality again. Haechan’s fingers still rested inside you, a silent, frustrated pause between you before the knock came again, louder this time.

“Shit,” you whispered, scrambling to reach for your phone as it buzzed on the desk beside you.

Haechan smirked, watching you with lazy amusement as you answered the call, pressing the phone to your ear while attempting to steady your breathing.

“Hey, I’m here I’ve been knocking on your door for awhile now,” Ten’s voice came through, oblivious to what he had just interrupted. “Are you home? Also, I remember Haechan told me he was going to be there earlier than me. Is he with you right now?”

You were so caught up in the moment that you didn’t hear Ten knocking on your door for the past five minutes. You swallowed hard, forcing your voice to sound normal, despite the heat still pulsing through your veins. “Uh—yeah! Yes, I’m home and yeah he is here. I’ll be there in a second.”

You ended the call, exhaling sharply, your gaze snapping to Haechan, who hadn’t moved an inch. His smirk deepened, his fingers brushing over your thigh before pulling away completely, leaving you aching, unsatisfied.

“Guess you have to go let him in,” he murmured, amusement dancing in his eyes.

You shot him a glare before scrambling off his lap, your legs still shaky as you hurried to fix your clothes. The smug look on his face only made your frustration grow.

The project was finally turned in, freeing the three of you from hours of cramped sessions, awkward tension, and the intense moments that had built up between you and each of them.You thought you could finally breathe—maybe even return to normal. But as you sat in your dorm with Ten and Haechan sprawled lazily on your bed, your mind kept drifting back to everything that had happened.

Since you had all worked so hard on the project, you figured you deserved to celebrate, cracking open a bottle of your favorite alcohol and passing around shot glasses. The familiar burn of liquor settled in your stomach as the three of you took turns, the warmth spreading through your veins.

Haechan, as usual, wore that signature smirk of his, arm draped over the edge of the bed as he teased Ten about something trivial. Ten, leaning back against your headboard with his legs crossed, watched in quiet amusement, his dark eyes flicking between you and Haechan. The dynamic between them was as natural as ever—so why did it feel like you were under a microscope every time Ten’s gaze lingered on you?

“You’re quiet,” he noted, his voice smooth yet concerned. “You’re always like that, but this time it feels… different.”

“I’m fine,” you said, forcing reassurance into your tone. “Just relieved we finally finished the project.”

“You want to get rid of us that quickly, huh?” Haechan teased, his eyes glinting mischievously.

“Well, not necessarily… I just—”

“Oh, stop teasing her. You’re making her uncomfortable when you do that,” Ten interjected, rolling his eyes.

“What? It’s a valid question,” Haechan scoffed, sitting up a little. “She even said herself that once the project was over, she was done with us. Hell, I’m surprised she even invited us back to her place.”

You hesitated, his words lingering. He wasn’t entirely wrong. At the beginning, you hadn’t wanted to be grouped with them. But after spending so much time together, you had started to see them differently—especially after everything that had happened between the three of you.

Ten studied you, sharp gaze reading you too well. “Actually… he has a point.” His voice was quieter now, more curious than teasing. “What changed?”

You swallowed, glancing between them. “I don’t know,” you admitted. “Maybe... maybe I just got used to you guys.”

Haechan smirked, leaning in slightly. “Got used to us, huh? That’s one way to put it.”

The air in the room thickened again, that same tension from the past week creeping back in. But this time, there was no project keeping you together—only whatever this was, simmering beneath the surface, waiting to be acknowledged.

Haechan’s playful expression never wavered, the alcohol loosening his tongue. “Oh, you got used to us alright—especially with me. Do you remember  what happened the other day when it was just us alone?”

Your heart stopped. He was bluffing. He had to be. He wouldn’t—

Ten’s eyebrows lifted, his smirk deepening. “The other day? What happened the other day?”

“Nothing,” you blurted, shooting Haechan a sharp look. “He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. The alcohol just getting to him.

“Oh, but you know exactly what I’m talking about, love.” Haechan leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees as he grinned at you placing his hand on his cheek. “And I think Ten might want to know how—”

“Okay!” you cut him off, your voice a bit too loud. “How about we play a game instead of… whatever this is?”

Ten’s gaze flicked between you and Haechan, curiosity piqued, but he let it slide—for now. He reached for his drink, shrugging. “Sure. What game?”

“Truth or dare,” Haechan suggested immediately, his grin looking sinster.

You hesitated, knowing full well this could only end badly. But with both of them watching you expectantly, you nodded. “Fine.”

At first, the game was harmless. Ten dared Haechan to chug his drink; Haechan asked Ten about the weirdest place he’d ever hooked up with someone. But it didn’t take long for the questions to turn more personal, the tension thickening with each round.

Finally, it was Haechan’s turn to ask you. He leaned back, swirling his drink lazily as he fixed you with a look that made your stomach churn. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” you said, your voice quieter than you intended.

His grin widened. “What’s one thing you’ve always wanted to try but never had the chance to?”

You hesitated, your mind racing. You could lie and say something safe, but the alcohol buzzing in your veins made your tongue slip. “I’ve…always kind of wanted to try a threesome,” you admitted, your face burning the moment the words left your mouth.

The room went silent.

 You didn’t dare look at either of them, but you could feel their stares, the weight of their shock, and something else entirely.

“Wow,” Ten finally said, his voice low and laced with amusement. “Did not see that coming.”

Haechan, on the other hand, laughed outright, his grin practically splitting his face. “Shit, really? A threesome?”

“Shut up,” you muttered, covering your face with your hands. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Oh no, no, no,” Ten said, his tone teasing. “You can’t drop something like that and then get shy about it. That’s not how this works.”

“Yeah,” Haechan added, shifting closer to you on the bed. “Now we’re curious.”

You peeked through your fingers, gaze darting between them. Ten’s smirk was sharper than ever, and Haechan was looking at you like he wanted to eat you alive.

“What are you guys doing?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Nothing,” Ten said innocently, though the look in his eyes told a different story. “Just wondering if that’s something you’d want to… explore.”

Your heart pounded. “You’re joking.”

“Does it look like we’re joking?” Haechan asked, his hand coming to rest on your knee. The touch was light, but it sent a shiver up your spine.

“This is crazy,” you said, shaking your head, but neither of them moved away.

“Maybe,” Ten said, leaning in closer. “But you’re not telling us to stop.”

Before you could respond, Haechan’s hand slid higher, his fingers brushing against your thigh. At the same time, Ten’s fingers found your chin, tilting your face toward him. His dark eyes searched yours, waiting for hesitation. When he didn’t find any, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was soft yet teasing, coaxing you to relax.

Haechan wasn’t as patient. His lips found your neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses against your skin, his hand still inching up your thigh.

Ten’s touch slid beneath your shirt, tracing the curve of your waist. “You’re shaking,” he murmured against your lips, voice low, almost cruel. “What’s the matter? Too much for you?”

Haechan chuckled against your skin, his teeth grazing your collarbone. “Bet you’re loving every second of this, though. Aren’t you?”

You couldn’t answer—couldn’t do anything but let out a soft whimper as Ten’s hands slid higher, fingertips grazing your heated skin. Haechan’s lips found your ear, his breath warm and teasing as he whispered darkly,

“Let’s see how much you can take.”

Ten’s lips left yours, but his dark eyes never wavered from your face. A slow smirk played on his lips as he studied you—needy, breathless, already trembling. “Look at you,” he murmured, his voice cutting through the thick haze of arousal clouding your mind. “So worked up already, and we’ve barely even touched you.”

Haechan’s grip on your thigh tightened, his palm searing through the thin fabric of your shorts. He leaned back slightly, gaze raking over your parted lips, the way your chest rose and fell with each uneven breath. “You’re acting so shy,” he murmured, voice laced with amusement, “but I can feel how much you want this. You’re practically shaking.”

You opened your mouth to retort, to defend yourself, but the words died in your throat when Ten’s hand slid beneath the hem of your shirt, his fingertips grazing your bare skin. He started to grope at your chest, making you whimper. The teasing softness of his touch sent a shiver up your spine, and Haechan let out a low chuckle, clearly enjoying the sight of you caught between the two of them.

Haechan chuckled lowly, clearly enjoying how easily you melted between them. “What’s the matter?” His voice dripped with mockery. “Are you scared? Or are you too busy imagining what it’d be like if we really gave you what you wanted?

Your breath hitched, and warmth rushed to your face at the bluntness of his words. “You’re… you’re both ridiculous,” you managed, but the tremor in your voice betrayed you.

Ten tilted his head, his smirk widening. “Oh, we’re ridiculous?” His fingers trailed down to your ribs, causing you to shudder. “Says the one who just admitted they’ve been fantasizing about a threesome.” He leaned in, lips brushing the shell of your ear as he whispered, “You’re not very good at hiding how much you want this, you know.”

The warmth in your face spreads down your neck and throughout your whole body. The alcohol was starting to take effect, making you feel hot all over. You instinctively tried to pull back, but Haechan’s grip on your thigh tightened, keeping you locked in place.

“Don’t go running now,” he said, his voice low and commanding. “We’re just getting started.”

Ten’s fingers found your chin again, tilting your face toward his. “That’s right,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. “You’re going to stay right here and take what we give you, aren’t you?”

Your heart was pounding so hard you thought it might die in this moment, and when Ten’s lips captured yours again, you felt like you were going to pass out. This kiss was deeper—hungrier—his tongue teasing yours with a deliberate slowness that drove you insane. You couldn’t stop the soft moan that escaped you when Haechan’s hand slid higher, his fingertips teasing the edge of your shorts.

Ten pulled back slightly, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke. “Why don’t you show us how much you want this?” he said, his tone equal parts coaxing and commanding. “Go ahead, pick one of us.”

Your eyes widened, darting between the two of them. The weight of their gazes, the smugness of their smirks—it was overwhelming. It sent a hot pulse of anticipation pooling between your thighs. Finally, you reached out, fingers trembling slightly as they pressed against Ten’s chest.

His smirk softened into something darker, more possessive. “Good choice,” he murmured, and before you could second-guess yourself, he was pulling you onto his lap. His hands gripped your hips, guiding you to straddle him.

“You’re lucky,” Haechan drawled from behind, his tone rich with amusement as he leaned lazily against the headboard, watching the two of you with a grin.

Ten chuckled, his hands sliding up your sides as he kissed you again. This time, his lips and tongue worked with slow, deliberate precision, savoring the way you melted beneath him. Behind you, Haechan’s presence loomed—his gaze burning into your back as he observed every shift, every sound you made.

“You look good like this,” Haechan murmured after a moment, voice low and teasing. “All desperate and needy. I wonder if you’ll look even better bent over for us.”

The words sent a jolt of heat through you, and Ten must have felt it because he smirked against your lips. “Looks like someone likes the sound of that,” he murmured, fingers tightening around your waist. He shifted beneath you, letting you feel just how much he was enjoying this. “Go on, then. Show us what you can do.”

Your breath hitched, but your body moved before your mind could catch up. You slid off Ten’s lap, hands pressing into the mattress as you bent yourself over for Haechan, heat crawling up your neck as you met Ten’s gaze. His eyes darkened as he looked down at you. When you hesitated, his hand found your chin, tilting your face up to meet his.

“Don’t be shy,” he said softly, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “You wanted this, didn’t you?”

Behind you, Haechan moved closer, his hands sliding over your shoulders as he leaned down to murmur in your ear. “Better make it good,” he said, his voice low and taunting. “We’ve been waiting for this all night.”

The room felt impossibly small, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Your hands trembled slightly as you reached for Ten, fingers working at his belt. His smirk deepened, and when Haechan’s hands slid down to your waist, pulling you back against him, you realized there was no turning back now.

The soft clink of metal filled the space between you. Ten’s gaze was dark, heavy-lidded with anticipation, watching as you tugged his jeans down just enough to expose the growing bulge straining against his boxers.  

“You’re eager,” Ten murmured, his voice low and teasing, watching as your fingers trembled slightly while sliding under the waistband of his boxers. “I like that.”  

You swallowed hard, unsure if it was his words, the sheer intensity of the moment, or the way Haechan’s grip tightened around your hips that sent another wave of heat coursing through your body.  

“Let me help you with that,” Haechan murmured from behind, his hands sliding down to the hem of your shorts. You gasped softly as he tugged them down, the cool air against your skin a stark contrast to the warmth of his hands.  

“Fuck,” Haechan muttered under his breath, his voice dripping with approval as he let his fingers trail over the curve of your bare ass. “You’ve been hiding this from us?”  

Ten chuckled above you, his fingers threading into your hair. "Don't distract her, Haechan. She has a job to do."

Haechan smirked, his hands lingering for a moment before shifting to his pants. “Fine. But don’t keep all the fun to yourself.”  

You barely had time to process their banter before Ten’s hand guided your head closer, his cock now free and standing tall before you. The sight of it made your stomach twist in nervous excitement, and the weight of his gaze as he looked down at you made your skin tingle.  

“Open up,” he said, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip, his tone calm but commanding.  

You parted your lips hesitantly, and he groaned softly as you took him into your mouth, your tongue running along his length as you adjusted to the feeling of him filling you. He was thick, and the stretch was enough to make your jaw ache slightly, but the low, breathy curses he let out encouraged you to keep going.  

“Good,” he murmured, his fingers tightening in your hair as he guided you into a steady rhythm. “Just like that.”  

Behind you, Haechan’s hands gripped your hips firmly, pulling you back until you were bent over in front of him, your knees spread wide. He slid his fingers along your inner thigh, teasingly close but never quite where you needed them most.

“You’re dripping,” he said, his tone dripping with smugness as he slid a finger through your slick folds. You whined softly around Ten’s cock, the vibrations making him groan and tighten his grip on your hair.  

“Don’t tease,” Ten muttered, his voice rough with arousal. “You’ll break her before we even get started.”  

Haechan laughed softly, but his teasing didn’t last much longer. He started to finger at your cunt at a rough and delibrate pace. You felt yourself squeezed around him and he took notice of that.

"Mhm, you like this, don’t you, baby? Who would’ve thought you could be such a little slut?"

Your core clenched around his fingers at his degrading words.

“Woah, you’re so needy—it reminds me of last time.”

You froze. Just for a second.

Ten was struggling to keep his composure, drowning in the way you were sucking the life out of him, trying to tune out Haechan’s blabbering. But his ears perked up at those words. Last time?

“Wait… what do you mean by that?” Ten’s voice was sharp now, cutting through the heat in the room.

“Oh? She really didn’t tell you?” Haechan chuckled, his tone dripping with amusement. “Well, that day I came over early to work on our project together… let’s just say she was making a fucking mess in my lap, with my fingers shoved so deep inside her. She was close—so fucking close—until you showed up and cockblocked us.”

Ten stiffened. His grip on you tightened.

He thought he was the only one. Turns out, you’d been spreading your legs for Haechan too.

His voice dropped, laced with something darker. “Is that true, baby?”

You couldn’t answer. Shame burned through you. It wasn’t like you meant to lead them on… you just wanted them both.

Your silence pissed him off. His fingers tangled in your hair, yanking your head back, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“Answer me.”

For the first time, you felt intimidated by him. A little afraid.

But also… excited.

A part of you liked seeing him like this—possessive.

“Y-yes… it’s true…”

Ten didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to. His silence spoke volumes as he suddenly shoved you all the way down to the base of his cock. Your eyes widened, tears welling up as you instinctively gripped the sheets, your throat tightening around him.

“So, I’m guessing, love, you haven’t told Haechan about what we did not too long ago either?”

Haechan’s eyes flicked toward Ten, curiosity piqued. His fingers never slowed as they worked inside you, meticulous, teasing, pushing deeper as he turned his attention toward him.

“Wait… don’t tell me something happened between you two, too.”

Ten smirked. Arrogant. Smug. One hand braced on the mattress as he leaned back slightly, the other still tangled in your hair, keeping you in place as he pushed you even deeper on his cock.

“Oh, we did something, alright. Unlike you, I actually made her cum—right on my thigh, at that.”

Haechan’s brows lifted in surprise. He hadn’t realized just how desperate you were. How needy. He gave your ass a light smack, making you jolt, a muffled moan vibrating around Ten’s cock, causing him to moan and throw his head back.

“No way… wow. And here I thought we were the slutty ones.” Haechan chuckled, shaking his head. “But you? You really just like getting passed around by the both us, huh?”

His words alone made your whole body tighten, pleasure pooling low in your stomach. You squirmed, barely able to control yourself. And he noticed.

“Oh? Are you close, sweetie?”

You couldn’t answer. Not properly. But you tried to mouth a desperate "yes" around Ten’s cock, the vibrations of your voice making his hips twitch, sending him closer to the edge. Haechan didn’t waste a second, fingers moving faster, deeper, maliciously curling until you shattered around them, a slick mess pooling beneath you.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” he groaned, his fingers slowing as he pulled them out, coated in your release. “I can’t believe you came so quick… but I’m not done with you yet.”

Your breath hitched as you heard the unmistakable sound of his zipper lowering. Then the rustle of fabric.

A moment later, you felt it—the blunt head of his cock pressing against your entrance. Your body trembled as he pushed forward, the stretch immediate, overwhelming, sending a gasp tearing from your throat.

“Shit,” Haechan hissed, his grip on your hips tightening as he pulled you back onto him, sinking inch by inch. “So fucking tight.”

The fullness of him made your thighs shake, made your fingers curl into the sheets. He didn’t give you long to adjust. Not even a second. He pulled out almost entirely before slamming back in, the force knocking the breath from your lungs, making you jolt around Ten’s cock.

“Careful,” Ten warned, though his voice was strained, his fingers flexing in your hair. “She can’t exactly focus on me if you’re going to fuck them like that.”

Haechan only smirked, setting a punishing rhythm, hips snapping against your ass with enough force to make the room echo with the sound of skin meeting skin.

“Maybe I don’t want her to focus,” he shot back, his voice laced with amusement. “I want her to have no thoughts in that pretty head of hers.”

Your moans were muffled, choked by the cock filling your mouth, and the sensation sent Ten spiraling, his hips rocking up to meet you, his grip on your hair unrelenting. His other hand cupped your cheek, his thumb tracing over your skin as he guided you, helping you take him deeper.

“You’re so good at this,” he murmured, his voice softer now, but still laced with heat. “So eager to please… I didn’t think you had it in you.”

Behind you, Haechan let out a low chuckle, his hands sliding up your waist before gripping you harder. “Guess we bring the slutty side out of them.”

His words were punctuated by a particularly hard thrust that made you cry out around Ten’s cock, your whole body quivering. The overwhelming sensation of being completely filled by both of them made your head spin.

“Shit,” Ten groaned, his fingers tightening. “I’m not gonna last if you keep doing that.”

Ten’s hips stilled. His grip on your hair tightened as he let out a low, guttural moan, his release spilling into your throat. You swallowed on instinct, the warmth flooding your senses as his hand slid to the back of your neck, holding you still for just a moment before he slowly eased you off him.

“Good.” His thumb brushed over your swollen lips, his gaze dark, approving. “You’re such a good girl, aren’t you?”

Before you could catch your breath and process what just happened, Haechan’s hands slid up your back, pressing you down slightly as his thrusts grew rougher. More desperate. Bruising.

And he wasn’t stopping anytime soon.

“Don’t think I’m letting you off easy,” Ten muttered, his voice taut with restraint as he chased his own release.

Your body trembled, every nerve lit up, tension coiling tighter and tighter. You were long past resistance—willing, desperate, ready to let them take whatever they wanted.

Ten wanted more. Wanted control.

He moved to take Haechan’s place, pushing him aside effortlessly.

His hands gripped your thighs, spreading you further apart, forcing you open beneath him. Your legs shook as he adjusted you at the very edge of the bed, your head hanging back over the side, hair spilling to the floor. The sudden inversion sent blood rushing to your face, making your vision swim, but the only thing you could focus on was Ten looming over you, his dark, hungry gaze drinking you in like he’d waited his whole life for this.

Behind him, Haechan leaned back lazily in your desk chair, arms crossed, amusement curling at the corners of his lips. He wasn’t going anywhere—he wanted to sit back and watch, wanted to see exactly how much of a mess you became beneath Ten. His cock, still slick from your arousal, lay heavy in his hand as he stroked himself leisurely, the sight sending another wave of heat flooding through you.

“Look at you,” Ten murmured, voice smooth, taunting, as he slid his hands up your thighs, thumbs pressing into your soft flesh. “All laid out for us, completely at our mercy. Is this what you wanted all along?”

You turned your face, the heat of shame burning at your chest, but Ten wasn’t having it. His fingers caught your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“Don’t get shy now,” he smirked, eyes glinting with something wicked. “You’ve been begging for this for weeks, haven’t you? Strutting around in those little crop tops, teasing us while we worked on that stupid project. Did you think we wouldn’t notice?”

“You didn’t make it easy for us,” Haechan chimed in, voice dripping with mockery. “Bending over in front of us, dropping pens like it was an accident. You wanted us to look. You wanted us to see what we could do to you.”

“That’s not—”

Your protest was cut off with a sharp thrust, Ten pushing inside, stretching you open inch by inch. A startled gasp tore from your throat as he bottomed out, hips flush against yours, filling you completely.

“Don’t lie,” he growled, his voice dropping lower as he gripped your waist, holding you still as your body clenched around him. “Your body doesn’t lie. You’re soaking wet—dripping all over me like you’ve been dying for this.”

The position made every thrust hit impossibly deep, your body arching off the bed as he moved, slow and deliberate at first, dragging pleasure through you with every stroke.

“Fuck,” Haechan muttered from his chair, his hand moving over himself as he watched, eyes heavy-lidded with lust. “You’re really taking him, huh? Bet you’ve been fantasizing about this every time you pretended to hate us.”

“Remember that day you yelled at us for being too loud?” Ten taunted, his pace quickening, each thrust sending a shockwave through you. He leaned in close, lips brushing your ear, voice dark and sinful. “Bet the only reason you wanted us to keep coming over was because you were hoping we’d fuck you right then and there. Probably got yourself off to the thought of it, didn’t you?”

Your pride flared, warring with the undeniable truth. You shook your head weakly, but your body betrayed you, hips tilting up, chasing more.

Haechan clicked his tongue, unimpressed. He pushed himself out of the chair, stepping forward, leaning down until his face hovered inches from yours. His hand wrapped around his cock, lazily stroking himself as he spoke.

“Answer him,” he ordered, voice sharp. “Tell the truth, or we’ll stop right now.”

The thought of them stopping—leaving you like this, empty, aching—was unbearable.

“I…” Your breath hitched, voice barely a whisper. “You’re right. About everything…”

Haechan laughed, low and dark, standing straight again as he resumed stroking himself. “Knew it. You’ve been obsessed with us this whole time.”

Ten groaned at your admission, fingers tightening around your thighs as he thrust into you harder, his control slipping. “Fuck, you’re so tight,” he muttered, voice ragged. “Can’t believe we wasted all that time working on that stupid project when we could’ve been doing this.”

You whimpered, fingers clawing at the sheets beneath you as he fucked you faster, the sound of his hips slamming into yours filling the room. Each thrust pushed you closer, every nerve in your body strung so tight you thought you might snap.

“You’re such a mess,” Haechan mused, eyes locked on where Ten disappeared inside you over and over. “Moaning like a desperate little whore, like this is all you’ve ever wanted.”

Ten smirked, leaning down again, lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “Maybe if you’d just been honest from the start, we could’ve given you this sooner.” His teeth grazed your skin, sending shivers down your spine. “You didn’t have to play so hard to get.”

The words sent you over the edge. Your body tensed, pleasure ripping through you in an overwhelming wave, a choked cry spilling from your lips as you clenched down hard around him.

Ten cursed under his breath, movements stuttering as your orgasm dragged him closer to his own. And he wasn’t far behind.

"Fuck," he muttered, voice tight as he pounded into you harder, fingers digging into your thighs, sure to leave bruises. "You’re gonna make me—"

Before he could finish, his hips slammed flush against yours, a guttural moan ripping from his throat as warmth flooded deep inside you. The sensation sent a shiver down your spine as he collapsed onto you, breath ragged.

"Don’t think you’re done yet," Haechan’s voice cut through the haze, dark and amused. He stepped closer, cock still hard, still ready. "It’s my turn now."

Ten’s pace never faltered, each thrust deep and ruthless, fucking you through your orgasm like he had no intention of stopping. Your head hung off the edge of the bed, back arched as he drove into you with a force that left your whole body trembling. His grip on your thighs was bruising, possessive, dragging you onto his cock with every sharp snap of his hips.

"Look at you," Ten growled, eyes raking over you, voice rough with hunger. "Taking it so well. Like you were made for this."

A low chuckle came from the side—Haechan, stepping in closer, dark amusement curling at the edge of his voice. "You’re hogging all the fun, Ten. Move over. I’ve got a better idea."

Ten smirked but didn’t stop. "Go ahead. They’ve got a mouth too, don’t they?"

Your chest heaved as Haechan came to stand by the bed, stroking himself lazily, already hard again. His grin was sharp, wicked.

"Open up," he ordered, tone laced with amusement. "You’ve been so good for us so far. Let’s see how much more you can take."

Your body was already shaking from Ten’s relentless thrusts, but the demand in Haechan’s voice sent another shiver through you. Lips parted, breath ragged, you let him grip your face, guiding himself between your lips.

"That’s it," he murmured, mockingly sweet, fingers tightening against your jaw. "Such a good girl, aren’t you? Always eager to please."

The moment he pushed past your lips, Haechan groaned—low, filthy—as he slid deeper, his grip keeping you in place. The angle forced your throat to stretch around him, and at first, he moved slow, savoring it, before picking up speed, using your mouth like it was his to claim.

"Fuck, you feel good," he muttered, voice strained as his fingers curled around your neck, using it like a handle. He thrust deeper, his other hand tangling in your hair. "Always running that mouth, acting like you’re too good for us. Look at you now, getting fucked from both ends."

Ten groaned above you, pace growing erratic as he slammed into you, every drag of his cock against your walls leaving you shuddering, overstimulated and wrecked. "Your such a fucking mess," he muttered through gritted teeth, grip tightening on your thighs. "Can’t get enough, can you? So desperate to be filled up."

Your muffled moans vibrated around Haechan’s cock, making him hiss through his teeth. His hips snapped forward, pushing even deeper, your throat tightening around him as tears welled in your eyes. His fingers dug into your jaw, holding you there.

"Look at you," Haechan purred, voice dripping mockery. "Drooling all over yourself, tears running down your face. You’re such a fucking slut... but you love it, don’t you?"

You could barely think, body trembling, pleasure unraveling into something raw as Ten’s rhythm turned frantic. His grip was almost punishing as he chased his release.

But this time, he didn’t finish inside you. He pulled out, breath heavy, stepping back to stand beside Haechan. His hand wrapped around himself, stroking slow, watching you with a dark, satisfied smirk.

"I’m not done yet," Ten murmured, voice low, commanding. "We’re going to make sure you’re completely covered by the time we’re finished with you."

Haechan chuckled, thrusts turning erratic, both hands now gripping your hair as he fucked your throat deep. "You hear that?" His tone was a promise, sharp and teasing. "You’re not just taking us—you’re going to wear us."

The words sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through you, your moans muffled as Haechan’s cock twitched deep in your throat. With a rough groan, he pulled out, moved to where Ten had been, and thrust his length into your dripping cunt. The wet slap of skin against skin filled the room as he fucked Ten’s release deeper into you, the filthy sensation making your body tremble.

Soon, it would be his turn to fill you up.

Behind you, Ten stroked himself furiously, his breathing ragged, his eyes fixed on your face.

“Stick out your tongue,” he ordered, voice thick with arousal.

You obeyed, tongue darting out just as Ten groaned and shoved his cock deep into your throat again. His taste coated your tongue, the lingering traces of his release making you shudder as he pulsed against the tight warmth of your mouth.

Haechan grunted, gripping the back of your thighs and pushing your legs up, nearly folding you in half as he picked up the pace. His cock drove into you mercilessly, each thrust hitting that spot inside you that had your body convulsing beneath him.

Once again, you were being fucked from both ends, completely at their mercy.

You never could have imagined this happening—all of it, just because of some stupid project. But now? You couldn’t be more satisfied with the outcome. The way Haechan’s cock bullied that sensitive spot inside you, the way Ten’s length filled your throat, stretching it with every ruthless thrust—it was overwhelming in the best way.

A loud, muffled scream tore from your throat, but it was swallowed by Ten’s cock as he fucked into your mouth with a brutal pace. The sounds in the room were obscene, bouncing off the walls—your muffled cries, the wet slap of Haechan’s hips against you, the rhythmic creaking of the bedframe as it slammed against the wall. Your tears only turned them on more, and you felt them harden inside you.

You clenched hard around Haechan, your walls gripping him tight as the intensity built inside you, your orgasm just out of reach. He felt it, groaning as he dug his fingers into your thighs.

“Oh, you’re close, aren’t you?” His voice was strained, breathless. “F-fuck… I think I am too. Ten, how’re you holding up over there?”

“Shit, I’m right there,” Ten panted, his grip tightening in your hair as he fucked your throat harder.

That was all it took for them to lose control.

Ten came first, spilling across your tongue, the warmth of it coating your lips and dripping down your chin. His breath hitched as he pulled back, watching the mess he’d made of you, satisfaction clear in his dark eyes.

Haechan wasn’t far behind. He cursed low under his breath, thrusting deep one final time as he came, filling you to the brim before pulling out, the last spurts of his release spilling across your stomach and chest, hot and sticky against your skin.

“Fuck,” Ten grunted, stepping back to admire his work. His chest rose and fell with ragged breaths as he smirked. “You look perfect like this. Completely ruined.”

Haechan chuckled, trailing his fingers through the mess on your face before gripping your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. “And to think you wanted to get rid of us,” he mused, voice dripping amusement. “Now look at you. Completely fucked out by us.”

The room was thick with heat, the scent of sweat and sex lingering in the air. Your breaths came in sharp, uneven gasps, your body trembling from the sheer intensity of it all.

Haechan smirked, brushing his fingers lazily down your thigh, a silent reminder of the claim he’d left on you. There was still hunger in his eyes, but beneath the cocky exterior, something softer flickered there. “You really outdid yourself,” he murmured, voice low and teasing. “Didn’t think you’d last this long. Guess we underestimated you.”

He wiped a bead of sweat from his brow, leaning against the desk with that same smug grin. “What did I tell you? All those little outfits, all that attitude—you were just waiting for this to happen. Should’ve made a move sooner.”

You were too exhausted to reply, your body still thrumming from the aftershocks. You lay there, head hanging off the edge of the bed, limbs boneless, chest heaving as you tried to process everything. Their gazes were heavy on you, but for once, you didn’t feel embarrassed.

Instead, a small, tired smile tugged at your lips. “You two are… so annoying,” you muttered weakly.

Ten and Haechan both laughed.

“Annoying?” Haechan echoed, crouching beside you. His fingers gripped your chin again, forcing you to meet his gaze. “You weren’t saying that a few minutes ago, sweetheart”

Ten leaned in, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, his smirk softening just a little. “Don’t worry,” he murmured, voice smooth.“We’ll give you time to recover… but don’t think this will be the last time you will see us.”  

The weight of his words sent a fresh jolt of heat through you, despite the exhaustion weighing down your limbs. Haechan caught it, the way your eyes widened slightly, and let out a low chuckle.

“For now,” Ten continued, fingers trailing down your arm, “we should clean you up. Can’t have you looking like this all night, can we?”

Haechan stretched, grabbing a towel from the desk before tossing it to Ten. His grin never faded. “And after that? Maybe we’ll play another game,” he mused, teasing. “Who knows? You might be able to go another round.”

You groaned, throwing an arm over your face as you let your head sink back against the mattress. “You two are crazy,” you muttered, though there was no real bite to your words.

Ten laughed, wiping you down with surprisingly gentle hands. “You love that though,” he murmured, certain.

And as you lay there, your body exhausted but your heart pounding with the lingering adrenaline, you realized you couldn’t argue with him…

[cryingpariah]

I know that we (Usopp Nation) love to discuss the multiple different ways the eventual meeting between Usopp and Yassop could go but today I wanted to discuss how I think the Strawhats would react to Usopp having/wanting/feeling like he needs to meet his father but hesitating for [Insert reason here].

Luffy: Likes Yassop obviously and would be excited to see him again! But our emotionally intelligent king would pick up on Usopp's vibes and just outright ask him what’s wrong. Would respect his decision to go or not go. If it’s a no though, he'd go and break the news but do it much too bluntly (“Yeah, Usopp didn’t want to come!”). Honestly the whole time there he’s unintentionally making Yassop feel like the biggest piece of shit.

Zoro: Pretends to not care/not have an opinion when he in fact has plenty of both. Zoro's just not the kind of person to care about blood connections, not his own anyway, so he'd probably veer on the side of not going but acts neutral. Regardless of Usopp's decision though Zoro is there to make sure he sticks to it, no wussing out! If he says he’s going he’s going, even if he’s got to hide behind Zoro the whole walk there.

Nami: Usopp's BFFL. She’s there to hype him up! No shitty absent father is allowed to make him feel like shit! She’s helping him get ready, picking a killer outfit and hairstyle for him, everyone knows looking good is the best social armour! If he decides not to go she’s still dressing up him but this time to go and paint the town red! If he does want to go she’s heading there right alongside him! Even if it looks like she’s engaged with something else best believe she’s keeping a hawk eye on Usopp.

Sanji: Guy who is so anti biological father. Is staunchly against Usopp going but tries to hide it behind neutrality and fails miserably. Ultimately though having had some emotional catharsis with facing his own father he’ll accept Usopp's decision no matter what. Absolutely tags along and brings a dish because he was raised a proper chef. (“Oh this? It’s Usopp’s favourite. Not that you had any way of knowing.” *faux polite customer service smile*)

Chopper: Little fella is CONFLICTED. On one hand he’s literally only heard good things about Yassop from both Usopp and Luffy so obviously this guy must be great! But if that was true why did Ussop look so..scared? He decides to approach this from a doctor perspective first by sitting Ussop for a checkup and letting him ramble all his thoughts out. If Usopp decides not to go Chopper's making an official announcement that Usopp's got ‘can’t-leave-the-boat-disease and has to stay for his own good.

Robin: Notices Usopp's discomfort immediately and whisks him away. Sits him down with a cup of her secret stash of soothing tea and lays down all the facts for him. Yes, he has no obligation to go see his father just cause he’s here. No it doesn’t make him a bad person if he doesn’t want to. Despite how wildly different they are, she’s the best at understanding his feelings right now and all that come with it. If he decides to not go, she’ll go in his stead to explain (and also to make sure Yassop doesn’t try to go himself).

Franky: He’s about as emotional as you’d expect. He’d probably be encouraging Usopp to go, not for his dad but for himself. His dreams of being a ‘proper man’ and ‘brave warrior of the sea’ means he shouldn’t live or die with regrets or what ifs. Regardless of Usopp's decision, Franky just wants to make he won’t regret for one reason or another. Will tag along and hype up Ussop to anyone and everyone.

Brook: Like Robin he’s taking Usopp somewhere else to calm down and think. He’s also playing him some soft violin to relax to. They don’t talk much, just let the music guide them for a bit. In a moment of violin driven vulnerability, Brook would tell Usopp that regardless of what does or does not happen, he has a place and a family right here, and that won’t ever change. Places neutral but would prefer if Usopp stayed and didn’t risk getting hurt.

Jinbei: Probably knows Yassop on a semi-causal level and therefore knew of Usopp long before FMI. Was really stunned upon hearing this would be Usopp's first proper meeting with his father. Jinbei's got plenty of sage of advice and can wash away Usopp's parental insecurities by reminding him of who he is and how any man worth a damn would be proud to call him his son. Stays behind if Usopp goes but only because he’s worried of overstepping if he does.

BONUS! (Argue with your mama, your daddy and your congressman Vivi will be the final Strawhat!!)

Vivi ft Karoo: They’re absolutely gobsmacked. Vivi's the one that brings out some latent anger Usopp doesn’t even realize he’s been holding in. I can definitely see Vivi wanting to go even if Usopp's not, she’s very confrontational after all but she defect to what Usopp wants ultimately. If he does want to go she’s right there with him and is totally throwing some shade Yassop's way. Karoo is there as a supportive friend and a quick exit strategy if Usopp needs it.

[pepstarvanmoon]

twice is too much

Milkvan and their ‘end of the season love confession’ pattern/coincidence does not hit.

We’ve literally already done this like what is going on. Why have y’all not learned yet. Love ain’t easy, but I don’t remember it being this repetitive.

Stop it.

Why’s it not clicking, why’s it not sticking, why do you two keep having the same issues?

It’s a fact of life that love is not enough for a relationship to work. You need to understand each other, you need to respect each other’s feelings and interests. You should value and trust each other to a point where you don’t have to bother questioning if there’s love because it’s plain to see.

Your face suction and fluttering hearts do not and will not keep your relationship stable. Can you even say what you enjoy about your relationship? Do you even communicate?

“I love her and I can’t lose her again!”

She wasn’t even there for that one 😭 why was El the only one to look you in the eyes and say it? Mike dragged it all the way to the S4 finale just to say it while she was being choked out with her eyes closed.

“This is my last resort!” ass love confession please be serious.

Also…

Glad you were able to recognize it here, bud, my condolences to future you.

(It’s also hard to get over how El looks right before she returns his feelings.

I know it’s easy to say she was just building up courage, but her father died and she lost her powers all in the same day. I believe El was very emotionally vulnerable/susceptible here. She needs confirmation that she’s accepted and loved by someone (a problem that’s brought up again in S4). If you really pay attention to that scene, she moves to leave, fights with herself, stops, and makes a decision to turn back.

I don’t think it’s something she planned on bringing up were she not moving with the Byers and not going to see Mike in person for a while.

It’s the way she looks so conflicted before saying it. She even pulls a ‘grocery store Mike’ and tries to get him to bring it up before doing it herself (I think she even wanted him to say something before she started walking away). Something, I might add, Mike is incapable of doing without being served three Will Byers Pep Talk specials and a comforting hand on his back.)