#sorry i got a little carried away there...

[marsdql]

Morning menance — Lee Heeseung

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 PAIRING: heeseung x sleepy!reader, GENRE: fluff, kinda crack? WC: 0.7k….! SNY— reader being needy and a brat because I love acting like the world revolves around me sorry!

The room was dimly lit by the soft glow of the nightlight on the bedside table. You stirred in your sleep, the warmth of the blanket and your hoodie suddenly becoming unbearable. With a groggy groan, you tugged at the fabric, pulling the hoodie off and tossing it to the side. Left in your tank top and sleep shorts, you sighed in relief, curling back up and nuzzling into the pillow.

Heeseung stirred beside you, his arm instinctively wrapping around your waist. Even half-asleep, he pulled you close, mumbling something incoherent under his breath before settling back into his slumber.

A few hours later, at the crack of 7 a.m., you blinked awake again. The soft morning light seeped through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. It was way too early for you, but something had woken you up—perhaps a lingering restlessness. You rubbed at your eyes, letting out a small whine, still half-asleep but already feeling the beginnings of your morning fussiness.

Heeseung was still dozing beside you, his face peaceful, but you weren’t in the mood to let him sleep. Turning to him, you gently nudged his shoulder. “Hee,” you mumbled, your voice soft and needy. “Hee…”

He groaned faintly, his brows furrowing as he opened one eye to look at you. “Baby, what’s wrong?” His voice was raspy with sleep, but his hand instinctively reached out to stroke your hair.

“I’m awake,” you murmured, pouting. “I want my phone…”

Heeseung let out a small chuckle, still groggy but finding your early-morning whines adorable. “It’s too early, baby. You should go back to sleep.”

“But I’m awake!” you argued, though it was clear from the way you were blinking lazily that you were still exhausted. “I just wanna check the time… and maybe Heeseung notifications.”

He smirked at the mention of his name. “Oh, so you wake up early just to stalk me, huh?”

You huffed, your pout deepening. “Noooo, Hee. I just wanna see. Please?”

With a dramatic sigh, he reached over to the nightstand and grabbed your phone, handing it to you. “Okay, but only for a minute. Check the time and my notifications, then back to sleep, my little stalker.”

You took the phone eagerly, scrolling for a few seconds before Heeseung leaned over and plucked it right out of your hands again. “That’s enough,” he said firmly, placing the phone back on the table. “You’ll get carried away, and I’m not letting you stay up.”

“But—” you started, your voice trailing off into a whine.

“No buts,” he interrupted, lying back down and pulling you with him. “Come here, baby. You’re too fussy this morning.”

You pouted against his chest, squirming slightly. “I don’t wanna sleep anymore,” you grumbled. “I’m not even tired.”

Heeseung chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Not tired, huh? Then why are you yawning?” he teased, cradling your head gently.

You let out a small, defeated whimper, nuzzling into his chest as his warmth started to lull you. “I just… nothing..” you attempting to admit that you just wanted him close, your voice muffled against his shirt.

Heeseung’s heart softened instantly. “Oh, my baby,” he cooed, his hand rubbing slow, soothing circles on your back. “You just wanted attention? You could’ve told me. You know I’d give you all of it.”

You sighed, your body relaxing into his as your eyelids grew heavier. Heeseung rocked you gently, his voice low and comforting as he whispered, “Shhh, it’s okay now. You’ve got me. You’re my baby, and I’m not going anywhere. Just close those pretty eyes and sleep a little more. I’ll be right here.”

Your fussiness began to fade as his words and gentle touch soothed you completely. Within minutes, your breathing evened out, and you drifted back to sleep in his arms, feeling safe and loved.

Heeseung stayed awake for a while longer, watching over you with a soft smile. He pressed another kiss to your forehead before whispering, “Sleep well, my favourite attention-seeker. You’ll always have me.”

[avayarising]

We had a similar park in the town near where I grew up, except ours was primarily geese with the occasional duck or swan.

We also kept geese, and at least twice when my dad wanted rid of a bird or two (that were too old to be good eating) he took them down to the park and released them to join the gaggle there. Thus enriched with fresh stock, the flock did extremely well over the next couple of years, to the point that people began to complain that the park was becoming unusable due to the sheer quantity of goose shit that was building up on the paths. (Geese defecate on average once every three minutes. It’s really not an unpleasant smell, but it is very slimy underfoot. Their webbed feet can also churn up soft wet ground into a horrible muddy mess.)

The council’s solution to this, in the end, was to split the flock. They captured around half the geese and took them to a lake a few miles away that was apparently in need of more waterfowl. They settled in very nicely and as far as I know their descendants are still doing well there today.

My dad was a little sore about this because they had taken some of ‘his’ geese. (He couldn’t actually tell them all apart, as they were almost all plain white, but one of them had a distinctive grey pattern over her wings. Her name was Gerda and she had been fired for being a bad mother. So he knew she, at least, had been moved.) “I might have wanted to take them back,” he said. The rest of us laughed at him. As if he ever thought about taking any of them back until the council took them away. As if he could ever have caught them with a river for them to swim away on.

So no, when the neighbour dogs got into the gosling pen and slaughtered all but two of our twelve three-week-old goslings, including some China geese given to us in the egg by another neighbour, and those two only survived because my mother spotted the dogs and came running out to stop them, and one of those was injured (but recovered), we did not get new geese from the park. What actually happened was that my enraged mother put all the bloody mangled bodies into a bucket and carried it round to the neighbours who owned the dogs, and they Knew Her Wrath.

The following Tuesday the neighbours rather shamefacedly made a delivery in a horse trailer: a dozen week-old goslings from the local market. They were in a bit of a sorry state, having been hatched by a breeder and kept in far too crowded conditions. (There was a reason we didn’t generally buy from the market.) Still, they grew up well, and were nice and tasty when the time came, and we eventually forgave the neighbours. And we never had problems from their dogs again.

There was this park near where I grew up. I remember we’d just moved to the area so I was around six and we drove past and saw this waterfront area. My parents decided to check it out so we went for a walk. It was a lovely park, there’s a lazy slough, lots of trees, extremely picturesque. My parents ambled along the trail enjoying the nature while my siblings and I ranged around in their orbit like excitable moons.

Then I saw something odd. Something vibrantly alive down by the water that was entirely the wrong color. I called back my vital scouting info and my family gathered around me. We looked down the steep verge toward the slough, screened by underbrush. We couldn’t quite make out what it was. The only thing we could agree was that it certainly wasn’t a duck. However it was about duck sized and roughly duck shaped. It just wasn’t a duck.

This led to some heated debate amongst my siblings and I but we were forbidden to scramble down the muddy hill to harass the mystery animal. Reluctantly we continued down the trail, speculating wildly when a chicken popped out of a bush in front of us with a train of several chicks.

We froze. The chicken did not. She placidly herded her little puffs across the trail, pecking happily for seeds, unbothered by our proximity. My family had not yet delved into farming and this was the first time any of us kids had seen a chicken up close. It was like a fairytale thing, a creature we had seen over and over in books was suddenly here in the wilderness of the park. We all realized the mystery creature had likewise been a chicken.

Another couple came up the trail and saw us staring.

“Is this your first time at the park?” They asked?

We nodded.

They informed us that this park had become a dumping ground for unwanted chickens. Once the chickens were dumped they were park property and the locals didn’t mind the eccentric additions at all. No one looked after the chickens, but they got on surprisingly well.

As the years went by we visited the park regularly. Signs were added to warn people not to dump off chickens or they’d be fined. They were also excluded from snatching the existing chickens. The hope was that the chickens would eventually run their course and the park would go back to normal.

It did not.

Instead the menagerie grew. Peacocks cropped up occasionally, turkeys; and one visit we saw guinea fowl. But there were always chickens. Eventually feed dispenser were installed so park goers could pay a quarter to enjoy the motley flocks.

Because we’d moved into a house with land my mom started up a chicken coop and we got our very own chickens at the feed store like proper folks. The first rooster we had was a gentleman, politely clucking at us when came into the coop, but the second proved troublesome a year later. He either adored or hated me. Every time I entered the coop he’d dance and flounce and brandish his spurs.

My mom didn’t want to off him frankly she didn’t know how at that point but his fascination ended with him flying at me and the rooster was sentenced to banishment.

We drove to the park.

We saw him there for years afterward, clucking dutifully around a small flock of hens. He did pretty well in exile.

Anyone who’s kept chickens knows that eventually there’s always a tragedy. Ours happened when a neighbors dog broke into our coop and slaughtered the flock. I was absolutely distraught, my lovingly hand reared chicks all decimated in a flurry of senseless bloodlust. I have not loved a chicken since. They are too fragile to bear it.

After a few days of mourning my mom offered that she knew where to find some more chickens. To make up for the massacre she planned a night raid with us. We stayed up past our bedtime and drove to the park with tarp covered kennels in the back of the truck.

We crept down along the gravel parking lot, looking up into the trees, spotting the telltale lumps of shadows that meant chickens. We quickly developed a strategy. We picked a chicken branch, creeping close underneath. Then we reached the end of the branch and gave it a good shake until the roosting chicken glided down to the ground in confusion. It was easy to scoop them up and we went home the proud new owner of a handsome flock of chickens.

The Take a Chicken Leave a Chicken park is still a beloved feature of its neighborhood to this day.

[urmum-lovesme]

Angel Baby - Rafe Cameron x Kook!reader P8

pairing: Best Friend!Rafe Cameron x Kook!Best-Friend!reader

summary: Rafe and Reader have known each other since kindergarten, always side by side, the king and princess of Figure 8. So why now does he start feeling different towards her, when all she's ever been is his best friend?

a/n: Did someone say angst? I'm sorry but I had to :( Let's see, things are a little awkward cause Rafe couldn't keep it in his pants, our boy has a new competitor and well... it's a pretty nasty ending ngl. My poor poor y/n I just want to give her a hot chocolate and tuck her into bed. I just wanted to say thank you so much for all the interactions with my writing, it makes me so happy to share my thoughts with you <3

ENJOY YOUR NEW YEARS!!!! STAY SAFE I LOVE YOU ALL XOXO -Lula ♥

warnings: ANGST!!! mentions of rafe's mother who is dead, suggestive behaviour, finger sucking, mentions of giving head, mentions of slitting someones wrists.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Three weeks had passed since Midsummers. Three long treacherous weeks, since Rafe let things go too far, since he’d taken a step he couldn’t undo. It made him ache with regret, the guilt gnawed at him, biting at his insides every time he thought about that moment in the car when he’d crossed a line he knew changed their friendship completely. Every time he saw her name on his phone or heard her voice, he felt the weight of that night pressing down on him all over again. It wasn’t just about the guilt of what he’d done, though that was bad enough—it was the way he'd let things spiral. He had buried himself in the family business, using it as the perfect excuse to avoid her. The demands of the Cameron legacy were endless, and it’d never been easier to lose himself in it. His father’s expectations were high, and with the constant pressure to maintain the family's image, finding a way to keep away from the girl was easy.

Avoidance had felt like the only answer, but tonight, she’d called him over to meet up. She didn’t specify only sent him a short message;

Princess  :  Get to mine at 4 please???

Princess  :  And if Ward tells you to work I’ll come over and slit his wrists :)

He knew she was fed up with his petty excuses, and he couldn't blame her. This was the longest that they’d been apart from each other, the last time being two years ago when she went to Bali for the summer, even then they’d talked every day.

He rang the doorbell as he stood on the girl's porch, hands shoved deep into his pockets fiddling with the empty gum wrapper, trying to relax, but there was no calm to be found. 

It's fine, she doesn’t know what you’ve done and she doesn’t remember the night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/n shoved the container into the little wooden basket, covering it with a red gingham towel. She’d realised that Rafe had been distant with her but she assumed it was his father’s fault. Truth be told she didn’t remember much from midsummers, the last thing being Rafe carrying her to the beach. It’s not that it worried her, she knew she could trust the boy, she always has. Yet the way he was acting with her, short answers, unanswered calls, it made her feel like she’d done something wrong. However, his absence worked in her favour as she knew Rafe didn’t know what she’d planned for the day, the only thing he got from her was a message telling him to come over. Just as she placed the basket near the door, there was a knock.

He raised his hand to the front door, and rapped his knuckles against the hard wood a couple of times again, hoping that maybe she’d forgotten and he could go home. He heard her footsteps walking towards the door, the sound of it unlocking before it swung open to reveal her standing there. His breath hitched in his throat as his eyes roamed over her. Her lips drew into a smile as she saw the boy standing there on the other side of the door.

Breathe 

“Hey angel baby.” She joked as she opened the door wider for him to come in. 

Missed you

“Hey princess” he replied, smiling slightly as he stepped through the door, the sound of it closing softly behind him.

Just stay calm, she’s clueless

“I’m actually ready to go.” She spoke up as she slipped her trainers on her feet breaking the silence between them, standing up straight as she grabbed the basket off the floor and her car keys which lay on the table near the doors. Her eyes landed on the boy standing by the doorway, shoulders at unease. 

“You look a little tense, you good?” 

Rafe exhaled, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, the motion awkward, almost unsure. 

“Yeah, just... long week.” 

He shrugged it off, though the words felt false. His father’s business had been a convenient distraction, but that didn’t make the guilt any easier to ignore. He should’ve stayed away longer-  for a brief second, he wasn’t sure if he was ready for this. Y/N, still holding the car keys in her hand, tilted her head, studying him. There was an odd quietness in the air, the kind that settled between them like an unsaid word. She could tell something was off. He was too guarded, too distant, and she had learned to read him better than that over the years.

"You sure?" She pressed, taking a small step toward him, her eyes never leaving his face. 

“I mean, if you’re not feeling it today, we can always—”

“No,"

Rafe interrupted quickly, a little too fast. He cleared his throat, forcing a more genuine smile this time. "No, it’s fine. Just... a lot on my mind, you know?” He raked a hand through his hair, a motion that felt more defensive than usual. He wanted to tell her. But he couldn’t. It was easier to shut down, to lie, to pretend nothing had changed, that things were still as they were before. 

Before everything had gotten well, messy.

Y/N didn’t seem convinced. Her eyes narrowed slightly, the concern evident, but she didn’t push it any further. Instead, she offered him a soft smile, the kind that always made his chest tighten, like she was silently giving him space without making him feel like a complete asshole.

“Alright,”

she said, finally breaking the moment, her voice lighter. “-oh wait…” she spoke up as she jogged quickly to the kitchen, grabbing something in her hand and slipping it secretly Into the basket. He watched her carefully as she grabbed the basket and her keys off the table, his brows raising in slight worry. Why did she have a basket?

“Ok.. I’m guessing you’re not telling me where we’re going?” he asked, as he followed her out to her car.

This is awkward

She shrugged her shoulders as she took the steps down towards her car, opening it up and placing the basket into the back seat, slipping into the driver's seat.

He rolled his eyes at her obvious closed off behavior and opened the passenger seat, getting into the car and instantly being engulfed in the familiar smell of her. He had to swallow down the lump in his throat as he settled, clipping the seatbelt in and turning to her slightly the girl speaking up before he had a chance,

“You’re being weird right now”

“No im not. I’m completely casual right now.” He mumbled out as he raised his brows, fingers fiddling with the buttons on the car, music soon filling the car. 

“You’ve never been casual Rafe. And I can tell somethings wrong because you’ve been acting weird ever since Midsummers”

Rafe’s stomach flipped at the mention of that night. He’d tried to block it out, bury it under layers of busy work and fake nonchalance, but Y/N had a way of bringing everything to the surface, whether he liked it or not.

Well shit

“Did I… did I do something wrong?” She asked, voice softer now as she turned to look at him, hands slipping off the wheel to rest in her lap.

For a moment, Rafe didn’t speak. He couldn’t. He was too busy trying to suppress the guilt that surged up, threatening to choke him.

He cleared his throat, trying to mask the panic clawing at him, then forced a shaky smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “No,” he said, his voice hoarse, like he was trying to swallow down the words that were begging to come out. 

“No, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

Y/N didn’t look convinced. She was too perceptive and definitely too smart to fall for his half-hearted reassurance. Her silence was enough of an answer, but when he glanced back at her, he saw the crease in her forehead, the slight downturn of her lips. She asked quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. 

“I can’t help you if you don’t let me in, Rafe.”

He knew, deep down, that she deserved the truth, but there was something inside of him that just couldn’t let go. He closed his eyes for a moment, running a hand over his face in frustration.

“I’m fine,” he said, more firmly this time, “Really. Just... dealing with some stuff- family stuff.”

She nodded her head silently as the car hummed with the sound of the engine now, the road beneath them nothing but a blur as they drove, her eyes focused ahead, her fingers gripping the wheel again.

“Right well…” she licked her lips "well, can we stop with this awkward tension then?"

She let out a little laugh, trying to cut through the suffocating quiet. It wasn’t forced, but Rafe could hear the underlying edge of uncertainty in her tone, like she was waiting for him to meet her halfway. She was trying so hard to make this easier for him, so maybe it was time to get his act together. He leaned back in his seat, throwing his arm over her headrest,

"Sorry, I've been so moody lately. Think I’m about to get my period or something," he said to her as his hand came out to place over his stomach. Her hand left the wheel coming to swat the boy on the stomach, to which he let out a small ‘oof’.

“Don’t be a dick Cameron” she spoke out shaking her head, yet she couldn’t stop the smile from rising on her face. 

Much better.

“So where are we going anyways?” He looked away from the window to the girl as he leant back in his seat, letting his guard down now. 

“Listen. Can you just appreciate my effort Mr . ‘I need to know everything all the time’.“ She spoke back to him as her fingers tapped on the wheel along with the song playing in the background.

He rolled his eyes at her comment, a smirk pulling at his lips. He opened his mouth to throw back a snarky remark at the girl but was cut off, 

“Stop bitching Rafe”

She rolled her eyes at him as she turned off the main road, wheels grumbling against the stony road. The boy let out a huff as she scolded him, yet his heart fluttered as he looked away out the window, satisfied they were back to being themselves. As they drove Y/n’s phone buzzed in the cupholder, her eyes flickered down to the lit up screen before ignoring it and looking back up at the road, it buzzed again.

 Then again

The repeated buzzing of her phone in the cup holder caught the boy’s attention, turning the smirk on his lips into a frown.

“You gonna get that?” He asked quietly, turning to look at her, eyes taking in the way her fingers were starting to tap the wheel impatiently.

“No I don’t drive and tex-” she watched as the boy quickly snatched up the phone looking at the screen.

“Hey!” She protested. 

He chuckled slightly at her protest to his move, staring at the phone; it took him a second to register the name of the person blowing up her phone, frowning almost instantly, 

“Why is Cooper texting you?”

“It’s nothing.” She diverted the conversation. 

The truth was that her and Cooper had been talking more than she thought they would be in the past week, and Rafe’s absence, well she did miss him but it did make it easier for her to get to know the boy a bit better.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He grabbed her hand, pulling her toward the dance floor before she could protest. 

“Come on, we’re dancing now.”

Y/N laughed, stumbling slightly as he tugged her along. “I told you, I can’t dance,” she said, half protesting, half entertained. “I’m more of a ‘stay in the corner and judge the people who actually can’ kind of person.”

Cooper shot her a mischievous grin. “Oh, no way. You’re not getting out of this that easily. I’ve seen you at parties, Y/N. You’ve got moves.”

“You’ve seen me at parties?” Y/N raised an eyebrow, her voice playful. 

“That’s a little creepy, don’t you think?”

Cooper only shrugged as he pulled her along. “Creepy or not, I know what I’m talking about. You’re not fooling anyone. Let’s see you break out some of that hidden talent.”

Before she could respond, the boy spun her, his hand lightly resting on her waist as he twirled her around with more confidence than actual skill. Y/N stumbled a little, laughing as she tried to regain her balance. “I told you I can’t do this,” she teased, but her voice was light, the playful tension between them clear.

“You’re fine,” Cooper said, laughing too as he pulled her closer again. 

“Yeah, right,” Y/N replied with a smirk. “I think I might need a lesson or two.” She rested her hands on his shoulders, a hint of flirtation in her tone.

“I guess I could be convinced to teach you... for a price.”

Cooper looked down at her, raising an eyebrow hopefully to her as she spoke up,

“Oh yeah? And what’s the price?”

“Maybe your number…?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He raised his brows, now feeling an emotion other than guilt which seemed to disappear the instant he saw the boy’s name, .... anger, …jealousy? They’d been talking and he had no idea about it? 

He didn’t like it. At all.

His grip on the phone grew tighter as he looked at her, his eyes almost glaring,

“Bullshit”

“Jesus Rafe, I’m just talking to the guy. It’s not like I’m sucking his dick.” She rolled her eyes at him scoffing. His attitude from the moment they met this morning had been off and now it was just getting worse and it was starting to irritate her.

His eyes widened at her words, clenching his jaw to stop himself from saying anything stupid. The image popped into his mind again, of her on her knees, yet this time it was different because he hated it. 

“Well, it wouldn’t surprise me”

He said, his voice low, almost a growl, but heavy with sarcasm and bitterness. Y/N froze. Her mouth parted in disbelief, eyes wide.

“Excuse me?” she said, her voice sharp with confusion.

“You heard me.”

The words left his mouth with an edge that made his insides twist, but he couldn’t stop himself. He knew what he was saying was childish and irrational. But he couldn’t care less. If there was one thing he couldn’t do, it was accept the fact Cooper of all people was getting her attention and she wasn’t telling him about it.

She finally shook her head, the frustration clear in her voice. “What the hell is wrong with you, Rafe?” Her words hit him like a cold slap, cutting through the fog of his jealousy for a moment. 

“You’ve been acting weird all day, but now this? I’m just talking to him. He’s my fucking friend, okay? I didn’t know I needed your approval”

He wanted to apologize, to backpedal, but his pride kept him rooted to the spot. Instead, his thoughts simply spiralled, and before he could even make sense of what he was feeling, he blurted out,

“I don’t care if he’s your friend,” his voice tight, his frustration seeping through. 

“You didn’t tell me about him. That’s what I care about.”

“You haven’t spoken to me for three weeks!?” 

Her voice broke slightly on the last word, a mix of disbelief and frustration lacing it as she brought the car to a stop, shifting it into park, stopping just outside an opening of trees. She undid her seat belt. He got out of the car after her, irritation still thrumming through his body. He slammed the door shut with probably a little more force than necessary and followed her out into the trees. Basket in her hand she whipped around to look at him after she heard the car door slam. His jaw was clenched tight, his arms crossed across his chest as he stared down at her. Every bone in his body was thrumming with anger and annoyance, every cell in his brain screaming at him to say the stupid, irrational things he was thinking but instead he settled for shooting her a glare,

“And now you bring me out to the middle of nowhere. What are we doing out here?” He all but spat out.

“Can you not?” 

She spoke softer now, no longer angered by his fury but more upset, she’d gone out of her way for him and he was being cruel, incredibly cruel.

“I’ve tried to organise this for you because I've missed you. And you’re treating me like some shitty ex you don’t want to see.”

He was about to say something stupid again, but he bit it back before the words could leave. The disappointment in her eyes made his chest tighten painfully, but the jealousy and anger was burning through his chest, and he couldn’t get it to stop. 

“I’m sorry I just-” 

“-talk to me please?” 

“I’ve just been-” he looked at the girl, he knew he had to admit to her so he might as well tell her what’s been going on, there’s nothing else he could say.

“-struggling with my counselling” 

You’re a fucking liar 

“Oh...” she placed the basket on the floor, arms wrapped around the boy as she noticed him avoiding her. She rubbed his back slowly as she spoke,

“It’s okay i’m sure that there som-” 

You’re sick 

Her words faded, dissolving into a quiet hum in his ears. All he could focus on was the softness of her, her warmth, the way her body seemed to melt against his, trying to soothe him, to reassure him that everything would be okay; but the more she held him, the worse it got. 

“Right?” She looked to him head tilted slightly

What?

“Uh yeah.” He nodded back as he watched her take a step back from him, his hand came up to scratch the back of his neck, his skin having gotten hot under his touch. Although, however much he tried to push away the burning question he couldn’t stop himself and the words tumbled past his lips,

“Why are you talking to him?” 

He asked gruffly, slowly rubbing a hand across his face before looking down at the ground.

“Why can’t I talk to him Rafe.” She spoke with a gentle voice. 

What is going on right now 

“I just-“ 

“Can we drop this please?” She looked up to him “-it’s just going to ruin our day…”

Y/n was starting to think that the day was already ruined, maybe this whole outing was a bad idea, maybe she should’ve just taken him to the country club..? That would’ve been easier. The usual routine- drinking, mingling with people, keeping the conversation light and predictable. At least that way, she wouldn’t have to deal with this awkwardness, with his brooding silence and the strange, almost hostile energy he was radiating.

He’s being so… bizarre?

“Let's drop it..” He muttered out clearing his throat, breaking the silence which lingered between them. If he was going to be with her for the next few hours he guessed it was time he started being a little less, irrational. She nodded as she leant over to pick up the basket, head turning back to look at him.

“You coming?”

“I’m coming.”

He shoved his hands into his pockets, his muscles starting to relax a little as they walked deeper into the trees together. The rustling of leaves beneath their feet was the only sound between them now, the sharp crack of twigs beneath his boots grounding him in the moment. It was quiet, and for the first time in a long while, the air between them wasn’t thick with tension. Maybe it was the isolation of the forest or the way the sunlight filtered softly through the trees, but something felt less suffocating. Y/n occasionally bumped her shoulder into the boy’s as they walked, easing the tension between them. They walked a while out before she stopped him turning around and facing him.

“Okay so…”  She looked down to the basket in her hands before up to him rocking back and forth on her heels slightly.

“I kinda sorta need to like…. Blindfold you…?” 

She said, her voice trailing off. His brows shot up in surprise at the request. 

Blindfold? 

His mouth opened slightly as he tried to process what she was asking. The moment was so unexpected, so out of nowhere that his mind had to catch up with the words. His gaze flicked from her face to the basket she was still holding. 

“You wanna blindfold me?” He asked, an amused tone in his voice.

“Yeah…” She spoke out hand reaching into the basket and pulling out a silky scarf of hers which she held up. She had to purse her lips to stop herself from smiling. He chuckled as he watched her hold up a scarf, his eyes flickering from the item in her hands back to her face.

“Why exactly do you need to blindfold me princess?” He asked, eyes narrowed curiously.

“It’s a… surprise?” She spoke out as she placed the basket down onto the floor.

His eyes flickered from the basket on the ground, to the scarf in her hands and he took a step closer to her.

“A surprise” he repeated back to her, his eyes trained on the scarf she held up.

“So..?” She spoke out as she rounded to stand behind him placing the silk material in front of the boy.

He shook his head humorously as she stood behind him, hands gently touching his shoulders. He couldn’t help a slight shiver run through his body at her proximity, he leaned back slightly, his head tilting back to look at her,

“Alright, whatever you say..” He said quietly, more than a little bemused by the situation.She lifted the scarf to his eyes covering them and tying it gently.

“S’this okay?” 

He closed his eyes as the soft material of her scarf was placed over them. The sudden loss of sight made his other senses kick into overdrive, and he shifted in his spot slightly as every brush of her fingers felt heightened. 

“It's fine princess”

She let out a hum in response as she picked up the basket taking his hand and leading him forward. He felt the subtle pressure of her hand in his, her palm fitting so perfectly against his, his large calloused fingers intertwined with her smooth ones. He let her guide him forward, his eyes covered by the scarf meaning he had to trust her completely.

"Careful," she mumbled, her voice a soft and breathy as she guided him through the dense forest. He felt her fingers tighten around his for a moment, pulling him a little to the left, avoiding an unseen obstacle. They came to a stop and she dropped his hand slowly and turned to him, 

“M’kay you can take it off…” She said, her voice quiet, laced with an unspoken anxiety that she couldn’t quite shake. 

Rafe reached up and pulled the blindfold from his eyes. The cool air hit his skin, and briefly he blinked against the light, his vision adjusting slowly to the shift in brightness.

It took him a moment, but when his eyes finally cleared, he looked ahead—and then froze.

His gaze swept over the sight before him, as though he were unsure if he was hallucinating. They were standing in a small clearing in the middle of the trees, but the thing that really caught his attention was the small, weathered wooden structure standing in front of them, tucked away amongst the trees. It leant just slightly to one side, the paint faded the colors dulled by time. It wasn’t much with only a small set of steps leading up to its door, but there was something undeniably nostalgic about it. Fairy lights were strung lazily by the door, which was cracked open just a bit, inviting, like it had been waiting for them to return.

"Surprise," 

she whispered, and the boy heard the smile in her voice before he even looked at her.

This wasn’t just a hut. This was their hut.

No way

The one they had found together when they were kids, hidden away in the woods. The memories came rushing back with startling clarity, those summer afternoons when they would sneak away from everything, from the adults, to build their own little secret place to get away.

"How did you… " He stuttered out in amazement, his eyes flickering from the building back to her face.

“Took me a while.” 

She spoke as she took a step towards the door encouraging him to push it open. 

“Go on,” she said, a small, nervous smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “It’s just like we left it.”

He gently pushed the old door open, creaking loudly as the hinges moved, and stepped through the doorway. He let out a sound of disbelief as he stepped further into the hut, his head swiveling, eyes wide, scanning every familiar corner. She followed after him a few steps behind to give him space. The shelves were still filled with their old toys and colouring pencils in old faded tins, football and kite stacked all atop each other, old baby dolls sitting side by side, frilly lace dresses covered in layers of dust. Everything was scattered across the shelves, jumbled together as if time had forgotten to organize them. She walked over to the small table in front of an old rickety couch, its fabric faded and worn from years of use. She placed the basket she held on top of it as she watched the boy admire their childhood playground.

He was still in a daze, his eyes flickering across the familiar surroundings of the old hut, his mind awash with memories he hadn’t thought about in years.

“This is…” 

He paused, searching for the right words, though none seemed to quite capture the enormity of what he was feeling. 

“Wow,” He finally said, his voice tinged with amazement. He ran a hand through his hair, still a little shaken by how much this place had stirred inside him.

“I can’t believe you brought me here.”

She watched him as he stopped near the wall, his gaze settling on an old picture that hung there, slightly crooked, the frame worn with time. It was when they were all much much younger; Rafe, Y/n, Topper and Kelce all standing and staring at the camera striking silly poses. The girl had her hands up behind Rafe’s head, making bunny ears as she flashed a mischievous grin at the camera. The boy, in turn, had his tongue sticking out, eyes wide with that gleam of carefree innocence. Rafe’s breath caught in his chest as he took in the photo, a soft chuckle escaping his lips, he couldn’t help it. It was a sound of genuine amusement, a laugh that felt like a brief, joyful release from the weight he’d been carrying. He stepped closer to the picture, his eyes lingering on the faces of his friends, all of them so young, before life had gotten so complicated. He reached up, running a hand along the picture frame, looking at the dusty picture, his finger coming out to whip across the glass to see it clearer.

“We were so dumb.” 

He laughed again, but this time there was something bittersweet in the sound. Y/n watched his reaction, the tenderness in her gaze softening as she joined him by the picture. She could see the way his expression shifted, how the laughter had faded just slightly as he took in the nostalgia, the way his eyes lingered on the frame.

Y/n walked up standing closely to the boy as she looked at the picture above, her, Rafe and his mother. All three together, the older woman’s arms wrapped around the two kids with a wide smile as she’s crouched next to them holding them close. A small smile lifts on the girl's lips before her eyes flicker back to the boy. He felt her presence next to him so close their shoulders were pressed together. His eyes were on the picture, taking in his mother, all of them smiling together. It felt like a lifetime ago.

"I remember this picture" 

His voice was quieter than he intended, a low murmur as he glanced down at the girl. The sadness that settled in Rafe’s chest was something he couldn’t escape. Even now, all these years later, his mom's absence felt like a heavy, lingering shadow over everything.

“So do I.” 

She spoke softly and reached up without thinking, her hand brushing over his arm as she spoke. It was a small gesture, but one that carried a sense of comfort.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

June’s laughter was soft, musical, and it rang in the air, soothing, like a lullaby. Her arms were wrapped around her son, pulling him close to her; Rafe, barely old enough to appreciate the moment for what it was, squirmed a little in his mother’s embrace. He’d never liked posing for photos, always too restless to stay still, but by his mother’s side he seemed to calm.

“Come on baby, just one picture,” she coaxed gently.

Y/n stood off to the side, hands gripping wildflowers she had picked earlier, the brightly coloured flowers vibrant in her grasp. The woman, sensing the silent observer, turned her attention toward the small girl, who was still standing by the door of the hut, looking at them.

"Y/n, come on," she beckoned her with a warm smile. She hesitated for a moment, then walked forward, her small feet shuffling in the dirt as she came closer to Rafe and his mother. She wasn’t sure what was happening, but there was something comforting about the way his mother reached out to her, as if she was a part of their family.

“Look at those flowers,” June said, her voice light and filled with affection as she gently cupped the flowers in the little girl’s hands. “They’re so beautiful.”

“They’re for you,” 

The girl replied softly, her eyes lifting to meet June’s after lingering on the small flowers on the woman's dress. “I thought you’d like them...”

June’s eyes widened in surprise and delight, her heart swelling with gratitude. “Well, thank you, sweet girl,” she said, a hand resting on Y/n’s shoulder for a brief moment, the touch gentle and full of warmth before her finger pops out to ‘boop’ the girl on the nose, the child giggling in response. 

“These are perfect.”

Rafe, who had been watching the exchange between the two, let out a small smile lift to his lips. Something about seeing his mom with Y/n made him feel... content. He didn’t have the words for it, he was only six years old after all. 

June adjusted the camera sitting on the wooden steps near the door of the hut, then glanced at the two of them. 

“Alright you two, ready for the shot?”

Rafe, who had been shifting from one foot to the other, suddenly stopped and looked up at his mom with big, expectant eyes.

“Do I look good mom?” he asked, holding his arms out to the sides like he was presenting himself for approval. The woman couldn’t help but laugh softly, her heart melting at how seriously he was taking this.

 “Oh, you look great my handsome boy,” she said, her tone playful.

Rafe grinned, looking pleased with himself, June turning to Y/n with a teasing eye roll gesturing back to her son, the younger girl sending her a bashful smile.

June pressed the camera button, setting the timer, “Alright, on three…” then jogged over to the two children, kneeling down behind them and pulling them closer to her in a hug. Rafe wiggled a bit, trying to stay still long enough for the picture, while Y/n leaned into June’s side, her small smile soft and content. 

“Say cheese!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"She was happy in that picture”

“She was always happy with you.” 

She spoke comfortingly before talking his hand and leading him towards the couch gesturing for him to sit down before she crouched down next to the basket pulling the towel off the top. He smiled slightly at her words before doing as she asked, the couch creaking slightly under his weight. His eyes flickered to the basket, watching as she pulled the towel off the top. 

“Close your eyes,” she spoke out as she looked up to him.

His corner of his lips twitched up her orders, he let out an amused hum before obliging, shutting his eyes tightly. The sound of a lighter clicking, once, twice filled the room before the couch dipped as she sat next to the boy.

“You can open your eyes,” she spoke ever so quietly.

Rafe’s head turned slightly towards her, his eyes flickered under her instruction, slowly opening his eyes to take in the sight in front of him. The girl sat next to him, plate in hand which held a small cake with 5 lit candles on top of it. It was lined with white icing and small cherries sat on each piped swivel of the icing around the cake. His eyes flickered to the cake in her grasp, the soft flickering of the candles making the her glisten in the dim room. 

"Is that for me?" 

He asked quietly palms feeling clammy. Y/n looked to the boy a sheepish smile on her face as she nervously spoke out,

“Um- happy 5 months clean.” 

...

She didn’t know if the boy even knew that she’d been tracking his progress. She cared about him, of course she did he’s her best friend, so when he’d told her he was stopping his relationship with the drug she observed him, although she doubted he’d noticed as she did so in silence. She’d noted each month that passed, a little star on her calendar, and now that she hadn’t seen him in a while, she thought it was a good idea to do something small to show him, that she had noticed. A wave of shock ran through him as she spoke out the words. He was stunned.

“You’ve been counting?”

He felt his heart start to thump harder in his chest, his eyes flickering from the cake to her face, slightly taken aback at the gesture.

“I-” she started to worry, overthinking that she’d overstepped a boundary, 

“I thought that I’d uh-”

His heart thumped harder against his chest, beating rapidly in his chest due to a mixture of shock, surprise and… something else, an emotion he couldn’t quite name yet. Y/n, noticing his hesitation, quickly began to pull back, her fingers fidgeting nervously around the edge of the plate.

“I shouldn’t have— I mean, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or—” 

She stammered, her voice quiet and unsure, a stark contrast to the warmth of the room. 

“I just thought it’d be... nice. You know? To mark the day.”

Rafe’s throat tightened. He hadn’t expected this, he thought, maybe foolishly, that no one cared enough to notice the small milestones he was too proud or embarrassed to admit to. But here she was. “Five months, huh?” He let out a low laugh, shaking his head.

“I didn’t even realize.”

Y/n’s eyes softened, a quiet relief settling over her features as she relaxed slightly. The tension that had gripped her melted, and she leaned back into the couch with a small exhale. 

"I’m proud of you, Rafe."

The words hung in the air between them. The phrase didn’t seem to fit him, it felt foreign, strange, like he was standing in a moment that didn’t belong to him. People didn’t say that to him. They never had. He’d spent most of his life either fighting to prove he was worthy of anything, or pretending he didn’t need anyone to tell him anything at all. His heart skipped again. It wasn’t the first time someone had said that to him, but somehow, with her, it felt different. More genuine. Less like a platitude and more like a truth. He smiled, a real smile this time, one that didn’t have to hide behind sarcasm,

 “Guess I should be proud of myself too, huh?”

Y/n's laughter was light and, like a soft wind brushing against his skin. “Yeah. You should.”

“Didn’t think I’d make it this far.”

Rafe shifted again, his chest feeling tight in a way he couldn’t quite explain. He wasn’t used to feeling like this—vulnerable, raw, with someone else’s belief in him resting so heavily in his lap.

She gave him a gentle smile, her expression tender.

“But you did.”

Now as she was sitting beside Rafe, hearing him speak those words, something inside her clicked. Her mind briefly flickered to her brother, and the wave of grief that had followed his overdose. In a strange way, she’d felt more connected with him today than she had in a long time. There had been no ‘five months clean’, no cake, no candles, they never had the chance; so being here with Rafe, celebrating his progress, somehow felt like a way of moving forward, a kind of redemption she hadn’t known she needed. Her heart tightened in her chest, and a lump rose in her throat as the weight of the moment settled over her. She had never told Rafe how much this meant to her, when he first told her he was going to quit she expressed her support, but never truly told him how much it mattered to her, not wanting to overwhelm him.

Now’s not the time for this  

She cleared her throat slightly looking down at the plate in her lap, lifting the plate up towards him passing the boy the cake, candles still flickering against the white frosting. 

“You should make a wish.”

“I’m not really the ‘wish’ type.”

 Rafe looked at the cake, his eyes rolling at the girl’s childlike antics, his lips quirking up slightly, he stared at the flickering flames for a beat, and Y/n could see him thinking.

“Maybe you should be,” she teased gently, nudging his arm with hers.

“I wish-”

“No!” 

The girl exclaimed loudly, cutting him off eye’s wide, “can’t say it out loud or it won’t come true.”

Rafe couldn’t help but raise his brows at her theatrics, “Alright, alright, relax” he said, “I’ll keep it to myself.” 

He glanced back down at the cake, the soft glow of the burning candles reflecting in his eyes. His mind wandered. He turned his gaze back to her, his lips parting slightly as if he was about to speak—but then he stopped. Instead, he let out a slow breath, his eyes tracing the outline of the cake.

I wish you knew how much you mean to me. 

Without waiting, he leaned in and blew out the candles with a quick puff of air, the small flames disappearing in a soft wisp of smoke. Y/n let out a little cheer- more of a giggle- an unexpected sound of pure joy. She clapped her hands once, as if the moment deserved a celebration.

“You made a wish and everything,” she teased, her voice light and playful now. Rafe’s chuckle was low, a smile tugging at his lips, 

“Guess I did,”

The girl next to him shuffled around in the basket on the table, 

“Don’t know if it’ll come true,” he added, “but I think it’s a pretty good one.”

Wonder what he wished for.

She pulled out two forks holding them up for the boy to see.

“Sooo.. d’you want some cake?” she spoke, Rafe chuckled again, his hand reaching out to take one of the forks, fingers brushing lightly against hers.

"I suppose we gotta try hmm?" he reached out and took one of the forks, before looking down at the cake in front of them, eyeing the little red cherries. She took the fork in her hand and digged it into the cake then held it up to the boy in an offering,

 “First bite?”

He looked at the fork in her hand, before looking up at her face, the eagerness in her eyes making his heart thump in his chest. He let out a small hum before he spoke out in a somewhat joking manner,

“Are you feeding me?”

“You got a problem?” 

She raised her brow playfully. He let out a small huff in response, his eyes flickering over her face. He let a slow smile spread across his face.

"No, I have no problem with that at all princess." 

He replied, opening his mouth waiting for the bite. She brought the fork towards him watching as his lips wrapped around it tasting the dessert piled on it. He held a gaze on her as his lips wrapped around the fork, taking a bite of the cake. He pulled the fork from his mouth, letting out a small hum as the sweetness of the treat coated his tongue. He let out a content hum, a small smile still on his face.

"That’s real good." He mumbled out swallowing, his eyes flickering to the cake on the plate in front of them.

“I’d hope, worked my ass off on it” She rolled her eyes teasingly at him as she took some of the sweet cream onto her finger licking it off letting out a satisfied hum. He couldn’t help but watch her lick the sweet cream off her finger. The action making his brain go slightly fuzzy and making his heart thump faster. The sight in front of him was so… innocent, but it was still making his brain buzz with something else. 

Stop that

"I bet you did princess," He said, eyes glued to her still licking her finger.

“Is it up to standard?” She asked as she watched him lift another fork full to his lips. He finished eating the bite of cake as she spoke, swallowing it down and licking the lingering sweetness from his lips. He hummed out a small response as he looked at her.

“Yeah, never knew the kook princess was a little baker.” 

She shook her head at his comment hand coming out to shove his shoulder. He grabbed the other fork again, his eyes flickering back to her face,

“Come here” 

She leant forwards at his request, as  he took his fork and ran it along the edge of the cake, scooping up some of the cream it was covered in, coating the end of the fork. He lifted it and held it in front of her mouth, an expectant look on his face as he watched her. She parted her mouth as he raised the fork to her, her lips wrapping around the sweetness coating the metal. He couldn’t help the sharp inhale he took as her lips closed around the fork, his heart thumping rapidly at the action. He pulled the fork slowly from her lips, a slow smile spreading itself across his face as he stared at her.

“Taste good?”

“Mmhmm.” She hummed back, “I should probably start a bakery, what about ‘The Sweet Spot’?" She questioned tapping her fork against her lip in mock thoughtfulness. Rafe’s face immediately lit up with amusement, his eyes widening like he’d just heard the most ridiculous thing. 

“The Sweet Spot?” he repeated, his voice humoured. “Sounds like a place where people go to get more than just cake.”

Y/n threw her head back with a laugh, but there was a glimmer of challenge in her eyes. “What’s wrong with ‘The Sweet Spot’? It's catchy!”

Rafe shook his head, trying to stifle a laugh. 

“Catchy?” he teased. “You’re setting yourself up for a whole different kind of clientele with that name.”

She shook her head finger taking some of the cake frosting on her finger, 

 “Hey you’ve got a little-” She smudged the cream onto his cheek letting out a giggle. He felt the cream hit his cheek and he let out a chuckle, looking at her with raised eyebrows,

“Really princess?”

She shrugged her shoulders playfully, licking the rest of the cream off her finger and popping a cherry into her mouth with a grin. He let out a small, somewhat incredulous scoff as he shook his head slightly, the amusement clear on his face. She was acting so innocent and yet… 

Stop

"You're a brat" He stated teasingly, a small smirk still tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” She raised her brow at him as she watched the boy wipe some of the cream off the cake and onto his finger moving it towards her, 

“Rafe!”

He let out a small huff of laughter, 

"Relax" 

He said in a somewhat innocent tone, but his eyes gave away his playful intentions as he held his finger up to the girl’s mouth.

Just as she moved forward to lick the cream off his finger the boy pulled his hand back at the last second, watching with a sense of satisfaction as the cream got smeared on her cheek. Her gasp made a small shiver run through his body, making his heart thump faster in his chest

“You have something on your face princess” He teased, the amused smirk back on his face.

“Rafe!” 

She exclaimed as she sat back from the boy in surprise. She suddenly moved forwards taking a large wipe of the cake onto her fingers and pushed it against his cheek, he barely had time to register her grabbing a handful of cake off the plate.

“Really Y/n?” 

He said with another huff of a laugh, his arm reaching around her waist, she squealed as he pulled her closer to her, smudging the cake all over her cheeks now, spreading it across her skin as a small grin appeared on his face.

“You look messy princess.” He said in an amused tone

“You're such a dick,” she laughed at him as she leant against the boy, his hand now covered in cake, the plate laying on the couch next to them. He could feel the cake getting smeared everywhere as she leant against him, but he couldn’t care less. 

“I’m a dick? You started this”

 He stated in a somewhat mock offended tone, his arm wrapped around her as they both sat there covered in cake. Y/n looked at the boy’s hand as he held it by her face, not wanting to get any of it on the sofa. He felt her look down at his outstretched hand, not wanting to dirty the sofa. His blue eyes met hers, his heart pounding so hard he could hear it vibrating in his ears. As he looked at her soft expression, he got a sudden idea. He mumbled out quietly,

“Open your mouth” 

She swallowed, looking from the boy's eyes, her gaze landed on his hand, long slender fingers with the white sweet cream clung to them, tempting and indulgent. As his hand lifted to her face and she parted her lips for him. He let out a small, shaky breath at her action. He slowly closed the distance, his long slender fingers pushed into her mouth, coating her lips and tongue with the sweet cream as his heart thumped in his chest. As her lips wrapped around his fingers, an inexplicable feeling of satisfaction surged through him at the feeling, her hand came up to wrap around the boy's wrist; she didn't know what was taking over her as she moved.

What am I doing 

He let out a hum as her mouth worked on his fingers, a soft sound catching in his throat as he caught her eyes looking up to him. He moved his fingers slowly in and out past her lips, feeling her tongue on his skin, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. He felt a shiver of pleasure run through him, igniting something in his brain. He could barely think, his brain fuzzy and filled with sinful thoughts of her. She swirled her tongue around his fingers, licking off the cream that coated them savouring the taste, her breathing had picked up ever so slightly as she looked up to the boys eyes who were boring into hers. He groaned softly at the feel of her tongue caressing his finger, and his eyes met hers.

Fuck me 

He could feel heat begin to build within him, a mixture of desire and need. His eyes watched her intently, taking in the sight of her. Rafe swallowed slightly, his throat suddenly dry as he pulled his hand away from her, a light string of spit momentarily connecting his finger to her lips. The girl leant forwards slightly, her eyes flickering down to his lips and he was suddenly hyper-aware of her closeness to him, the way he could feel her breath on his skin. Rafe’s breathing was now ragged and uneven, and he felt himself leaning closer to her, his gaze falling to her lips, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from them. He imagined the way they would give under the pressure of a kiss, soft and inviting, making it harder to concentrate on anything but the urge to close the distance between them. He wanted to trace the line of her lips with his own, feel their warmth, and taste whatever sweetness lingered there. He could feel the tension between them, thick and electric, and he knew he should pull away, he should stop this before it went too far, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Not when he wanted her so badly, not when he could almost taste her on his tongue. 

Y/n felt light headed as she pushed herself closer to the boy, her hand resting on his upper thigh as her gaze darted up to meet his eyes, inches away from his face. Rafe could feel the heat radiating off her skin.

“Y/n” 

He mumbled out barely audible as he watched the girl’s tongue dart out to wet her lips. He could feel his resolve weakening, the reason and rationality fading as the pull of desire became harder and harder to ignore.

He wanted her, needed her… in a way he never had before.

What the fuck am I doing.

What am I doing?

This is my best friend

Yet even as her conscience screamed at her she didn’t pull away, she wouldn’t, she’d wanted this for too long. 

The sight and the sound of her slightly breathless made something inside Rafe stir, the line between best friends and something more beginning to blur. The realization of what they were doing suddenly hit him, a pang of guilt mixed with desire flowing through him. She was his best friend, she was supposed to be just his best friend, nothing else. He couldn’t do this.

“We shouldn’t” 

Her heart dropped to her stomach as she heard him speak out. His words hung in the air, the space between them suddenly feeling miles wide. She felt sick, and she couldn't tell if it was because of the amount of cake she'd consumed or because her best friend, whom she'd been pinning over for years, didn't want her. Her breath caught in her throat, and she could barely move, as if the air itself had thickened, the boy sat back slightly putting distance between them.

 -what? 

The confusion crashed into her like a wave. Her mind scrambled for some explanation- anything to make sense of what had just happened. Had she misread something? Had she been too obvious? The nagging feeling that she might have let her feelings show too clearly, too soon, clawed at her, but that didn’t make sense. He’d leaned in. 

He had leaned in. 

He felt his heart sink as he’d pulled away from her. 

Fuck 

He watched as she sat motionless, her eyes searching for his, his stomach twisting and turning at the sight. He wanted her, more than anything, but he couldn’t risk ruining what they had, their friendship, the last stable thing in his life. He felt guilt coursing through him. 

She blinked, trying to focus, but her mind was in a fog. She could see him, sitting back slightly, his gaze lowered, the distance between them growing, and it was like the walls around her were closing in. She couldn’t breathe. 

Is he rejecting me?

Her throat tightened, and she almost choked on the lump that formed there. No, that wasn’t possible. Not after everything. After all the years of being close, of leaning on each other, laughing, sharing moments—this wasn’t supposed to happen. This was meant to be her moment. She had dreamt about this so many times, imagined it in a thousand ways. 

But never like this. 

He watched her expression, seeing the flash of disappointment and pain in her eyes. He didn’t want to hurt her, he didn’t want to push her away, but he couldn’t give in, he couldn’t do this to her

He didn't do relationships, he never has…

He felt his heart sink as she sat up suddenly. He watched as she shook her head, his stomach twisting and turning at the sight. He wanted her, more than anything, but he couldn’t risk ruining what they had, their friendship, the last thing connecting him to her. He felt guilt coursing through him. 

“Look at me princess”

He tried to sound firm, but there was a hint of hesitation in his words, desperate for her to look at him. 

“No. No you're right-” 

She cleared her throat, grabbing the kitchen towel off the table and wiping her hands off the sticky cake, lifting it to wipe her cheek, before passing it back to the boy without looking at him.

You’ve fucked up

He felt his heart tug at the sound of her voice, the lump in her throat making him feel guilty. He felt sick with the whole situation. Rafe let out a breath, he knew she was lying, he could hear the shakiness in her voice; he took the towel from her, watching as she purposely avoided looking at him, and began wiping his face and hands off as well.

“Y/n.” He muttered out quietly. 

She had to close her eyes momentarily to regain her composure, her back still facing him, she let out a silent breath and opened her eyes as she turned to the boy.

“Rafe, it's fine. You're right.”

He watched her for a long moment, her features composed but distant, like she had built some invisible wall between them. She didn't move, didn't say anything after that for a long time as she placed the forks and left-over cake back into the basket. The silence stretched between them uncomfortably. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, his voice broke the silence,

“You’re my best friend” 

He said it like a confession, almost like he was trying to convince himself of it, trying to hold on to the one truth he thought he could trust. Y/n froze for a second, her fingers still gripping the handle of the basket. She could feel the weight of his words sink deep into her chest, where all the other unsaid things had already gathered. She stood from where she sat next to him forcing out a smile,  

“Yeah of course- and you're mine.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The drive back was silent. Not the comfortable silence that usually lingered between them- no, this one felt different. 

Tense, discomfiting, awkward. 

Neither of them was brave enough to break it. Y/n’s hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly, her knuckles white, her posture stiff and forward-leaning, as though if she moved even slightly, she might shatter. Her eyes stayed fixed on the road ahead, her focus unwavering, as if she was trying to ignore the weight of the boy sitting beside her. Rafe sat in the passenger seat, his body turned slightly toward her, his heart twisting in his chest. He’d never felt so conflicted, so confused, so sick all at once. He wanted to reach out to her, to say something, anything, but the words wouldn’t come. And even if they did, he wasn’t sure if it would make things better or worse. 

His gaze drifted to her, taking in the tightness in her shoulders, the subtle strain in her posture as she tried so hard to hold herself together. His chest ached, and the desire to speak, to make it better, was nearly unbearable. But the words felt trapped, like a dam that was ready to break. He couldn’t bring himself to say them. 

"Do you want me to drop you home?" 

Her voice cut through the silence, monotone, cold, as she kept her gaze fixed firmly ahead, as though the road were the only thing she could handle looking at right now. The shift in her voice, in her demeanor, hit Rafe harder than he expected. It stung in a way he couldn’t describe but he knew he deserved it.

“Yeah.”

He mumbled, his voice barely audible against the low hum of the car’s engine. The word felt too small, too inadequate, but it was all he could manage.

The sound of the indicator filled the silence between them, the rhythmic clicking marking each turn on the route she knew so well. The road to Tannyhill was embedded in her memory, but tonight, the familiarity of the journey did little to ease the tension in the car. When they finally came to a stop in front of the estate gates, the silence stretched, once again- heavy and suffocating. She leaned back against the seat, her shoulders sinking as if the weight of the drive had finally caught up to her. Licking her lips, she pursed them briefly before clearing her throat. The words she wanted to say stuck, tangled in her chest. Her gaze flicked toward him before retreating, hesitant.

“Thanks for… Thanks for coming today.” 

She finally managed, her voice unsteady. He watched her carefully, his own heart tightening at her tone, she wasn’t looking at him. He swallowed down the sharp pang in his stomach and nodded.

“Course.” 

He muttered as glanced at her again, but her face gave away nothing. She shook her head suddenly, a small, sharp movement, her hands gripped the steering wheel again, her knuckles whitening. She couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes. The sound of his seat belt unbuckling cut through the silence, followed by the soft creak of the door opening. He stepped out, standing just outside the open door, the cool air hit him, but it wasn’t enough to cool the heat rising in his chest. Guilt mixed with longing clawed at him, the rawness of it almost unbearable. He glanced back into the car, his hand resting on the frame of the door. She still wasn’t looking at him, her face illuminated by the soft glow of the lights on the dashboard of the car.

“I-” 

“I-”

He started, his voice barely more than a whisper, she echoed, her voice overlapping his, pulling his gaze back to her.

The word hung awkwardly in the air.

Finally, she looked up, her eyes meeting his for the first time. The corners of her lips twitched into a small, tentative smile- a fragile thing that barely held together. He froze, caught off guard by the flicker of emotion in her face. She hesitated, her grip loosening on the wheel as she allowed herself a moment of vulnerability. There was so much she wanted to say, but the words felt too big, too heavy to voice. Still, she knew if she didn’t speak now, the distance between them might never close.

“I don’t want this to… change us.” 

She said softly, her voice breaking slightly. Her smile faltered, but she held his gaze, hoping he could see what she couldn’t quite put into words. He felt horrible for putting her in this situation and making her question their friendship.

 He wished he could tell her he didn’t want this to change them either, but he did. He was lying earlier, he wanted more than just friendship from her. He wanted to be more than just her best friend.

His breath hitched at her words, and for a moment, he didn’t know what to say. 

“Yeah… yeah, you’re right,” 

He said finally, his voice stiff, he nodded slightly, more to himself than to her, as if trying to convince himself of the truth in his own words. 

Fucking say something to me 

She blinked at him, her brows furrowing just a little, unsure what to make of his response. 

“That’s all you’re gonna say?” 

“What do you want me to say?” 

He shot back, his tone sharper than he’d intended. He winced at himself and softened immediately, running a hand through his hair. 

“I mean… I don’t know what to say.”

Her lips pressed together tightly, and she exhaled through her nose, her gaze fixed on the dashboard. 

“Yeah, well… neither do I,” she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.

The silence that followed was suffocating, the awkwardness palpable. He stood there, half-in and half-out of the car, shuffling his feet against the gravel. Every second stretched uncomfortably long.

“We’re friends Y/n. That’s all we’ll ever be.” 

He gestured vaguely between them as he spoke. He didn’t even believe what he was saying, but he told himself it was for the best.

What are you talking about?

Stop talking 

Y/n didn’t respond immediately. She didn’t say anything at all. Instead, she slowly glanced at him, but only for a second- just enough for him to catch the faint shimmer of tears in her eyes before she quickly looked away.

“Right…” she whispered, her voice strained and hollow.

He opened his mouth to say something else, anything to fix it, but no words came, he let out a sigh, hand rubbing down his face.

“I’ll see you later,” 

Rafe said, his voice trailing off, she didn’t speak, didn’t move to look at him, instead she let out a small hum of acknowledgement. Her head finally turned towards the sound of the car door shutting. She sat in the driver’s seat, gripping the steering wheel so tightly her hands were sore. Her eyes followed him as he walked up the path to his house, his steps slow, the porch light flickered on as he reached the door, casting a soft glow around him. He paused with his hand on the doorknob, glancing back toward her car for a moment. Her breath caught, her heart foolishly leaping in her chest, hoping- praying- he’d come back and tell her it was a mistake, that he hadn’t meant anything of what he’d said.

But he didn’t.

He turned back to the door, pushed it open, and stepped inside.

She sat frozen, staring at the now-empty porch, her mind racing and her chest tightening. Her lip trembled and her vision blurred as tears pooled in her eyes. She blinked hard, trying to push them back, but it was useless as they slid down her cheeks. A sob broke past her lips, filling the silence that had pressed down on her for the past few hours. She slammed her hand against the steering wheel, her whole body trembling as the tears came in waves. Her forehead dropped onto the wheel, the cold leather pressing against her skin as she shook with the force of her crying.

How could she have been so wrong? So embarrassingly, painfully wrong?

“We’re friends Y/n. That’s all we’ll ever be”

She thought he’d cared—really cared. She thought there had been something between them. All those moments they’d shared, the late-night conversations, the way he’d smiled at her, the way he made her feel seen when no one else did- it had to mean something. The answer was glaringly obvious now, and it made her feel sick. Of course, it hadn’t meant anything to him. Not the way it had to her. She’d let herself believe in something that was never there.

Her sobs grew quieter, but they didn’t stop. Her chest ached as she sat there, her nose blocked as she sniffled. She hated herself for thinking he could ever see her as anything more than a friend. Her tears soaked her cheeks, and she wiped at them furiously, her hands shaking. She felt stupid, exposed, and humiliated. She let her head fall back against the seat, staring up at the ceiling of the car, her breath coming in shakily. She looked back toward the house one last time, the darkened windows staring back at her like empty eyes. 

And for the first time, she wondered if holding onto him was worth it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

taglist: @evermorx89 @bellaed1t @user381953 @lovemanheim @loves0phelia @yourcrackleflame @kundaquarius @matthewswifeyy @pillowprincess4him @lilithblackkk

[rafecameronssl4t]

hiii, i was wondering for the rafe tennis au if u could make a story based on the “he just comes running over to me sound.” it’s basically just based on the pole vaulter running straight to his gf right after winning, everyone is taking pics of the moment and trying to congratulate him but he’s only focused on gf!reader.

Running over to me || Tennis player!Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

A/n: I love Desiré and Mondo sm 😭😭😭

Warnings: none :)

Word count: 861

MASTERLIST (tennis player!rafe au masterlist)

The ball skimmed over the net, spinning wildly as it bounced just inside the line. His opponent lunged, reaching for a desperate return, but the shot sailed long. The crowd roared, a tidal wave of sound crashing over the court as Rafe Cameron fell to his knees, clutching his tennis racquet in both hands.

Sweat dripped from his brow, mixing with the tears he couldn’t hold back. He’d done it. He’d won Wimbledon. His opponent, Alex De Minaur, stood at the net, waiting for the traditional handshake. But Rafe’s mind was elsewhere. His eyes scanned the crowd feverishly until they landed on you, you were in his players’ box.

You were on your fee clapping, tears streaming down your face as you beamed at him. Rafe didn’t think. He didn’t hesitate. He didn’t care about the protocol or the cameras capturing every moment. He dropped his racquet and sprinted across the court, his long legs carrying him faster than seemed possible after hours of grueling play.

Gasps and cheers erupted as he leapt over the barrier separating the court from the players’ box.“Rafe!” you cried, barely audible over the cheers, but he heard you. He always did. In a heartbeat, he was there, arms wrapping around you so tightly you could hardly breathe. His chest heaved against yours as he lifted you off your feet, spinning you in a circle.

The world blurred around you, the crowd’s noise fading to a dull hum as his lips found yours. The kiss was desperate, almost frantic, as though he needed to reassure himself that this moment was real. His hands cradled your face, thumbs brushing away your tears as he pulled back just enough to look into your eyes.

“I did it,” he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion. “I did it, baby.” “You did, Rafe,” you choked out, your voice thick with pride and love. “I’m so proud of you.” He kissed you again, softer this time, as if savouring the moment. Around you, the cameras clicked and flashed incessantly, capturing every angle of your embrace.

The world watched as Rafe Cameron, the newly crowned champion of Wimbledon, poured every ounce of emotion into the kiss. The broadcasters’ commentary shifted from his monumental victory to the passionate celebration unfolding court-side. Fans were on their feet, phones held high as they recorded the embrace that was already destined to go viral.

“Rafe, the handshake,” you murmured against his lips, your hands gently pushing against his chest. But he didn’t let go. “It can wait,” he muttered, his forehead pressing against yours. “No, it can’t,” you insisted, though your smile betrayed how much you adored his impulsiveness. “Go. This is your moment. I’ll be right here.”

With great reluctance, he released you, brushing a final kiss across your forehead before turning back toward the net. Alex had an amused yet understanding look, extending his hand as Rafe approached. “Sorry, man,” Rafe said, gripping his hand firmly. “Got a little carried away.”

“Would’ve done the same,” Alex opponent replied with a laugh, patting Rafe on the back. The applause intensified as Rafe turned to acknowledge the crowd, raising his arms triumphantly. But even as he basked in the glory, his eyes sought you out again. You stood where he’d left you, your hands clasped over your heart, smiling through tears.

The presenters were waiting, trophy in hand, but Rafe took a moment to jog back to you. He reached out, pulling you under the rope separating the court from the stands. “You’re coming with me,” he said, lacing his fingers with yours. “Rafe, I can’t—” “Yes, you can.” And just like that, you were by his side as he accepted the gilded trophy.

His speech was heartfelt but brief, the first words out of his mouth a dedication to you. “This isn’t just my victory,” he said, his voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions. “It’s ours. You’ve been my rock, my inspiration, and my reason to fight through every setback. I couldn’t have done this without you.”

The crowd erupted again, and as you stood there, hands wrapped around his waist, you realised this was more than just a victory for Rafe. It was a moment that symbolised everything the two of you had built together. As the cameras continued to flash, Rafe leaned down, whispering in your ear, “Guess we’re the headline now.” You laughed, shaking your head.

“You are. I’m just the emotional girlfriend who can’t stop crying.” “You’re my everything,” he corrected. And in that moment, standing on the most iconic court in tennis, you knew he meant every word.

[raekensluver]

…dry humping in the club w/ Luigi…

sweating to the point the two of you have to take off some clothes…

yum yum yum. (sorry i got a little carried away and didn't add the part where they removed a few layers but....)

contains: grinding, dry humping, public sexual acts

luigi mangione x fem!reader

the strobe lights flickered in rhythm with the bass-heavy music, casting sharp shadows across the crowded dance floor. you felt a warm familiar presence approaching from behind, and before you knew it, strong hands were gripping your hips, pulling you closer to a firm, muscular body. you looked over your shoulder to see you boyfriend luigi's gaze lock onto yours, a mischievous smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

his moves were anything but subtle as he began to grind against you, his hips moving in time with the pulsing beats of the club anthem that had everyone else in the room moving in a frenzied blur. you felt the heat radiating from his skin. the music washed over you in waves, the vibrations traveling through your body and resonating with every beat of your heart.

his breath was warm against your neck as he leaned in, whispering sweet nothings into your ear that made your skin tingle. the scent of his cologne mixed with the faint hint of sweat, a heady cocktail that sent a shiver down your spine. his hands began to roam, gliding over the curve of your waist and up to the small of your back, pressing you even closer to him. the fabric of your dress was thin, offering little resistance to his touch.

you turned around, chest to chest with luigi, your heart racing like a wild animal in a cage. his eyes were dark with desire, and the way he looked at you made you feel like you were the only person in the world. your breasts pushed against his firm chest, nipples tightening under the pressure of your bra as his hands slid down to cup your ass. the crowd around you melted away as the only thing that mattered was the sensation of his body against yours, moving in a dance as old as time itself.

his lips found yours, and his kiss was like a spark igniting a wildfire. it was hungry and demanding, yet filled with a tenderness that made you melt into him. your arms wrapped around his neck, and you felt the strength in his muscles as he held you closer. his tongue darted into your mouth, tasting you, claiming you as the bass thumped through your shared space. his teeth grazed your bottom lip, eliciting a gasp that was swallowed by the music and the passion of the moment. your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, not wanting the kiss to ever end.

his hands continued to explore, one sliding up your back to cradle the back of your head, the other slipping around to cup your breast over your dress. the fabric was no barrier to his touch as he rolled your nipple gently, sending jolts of pleasure down to your core. you could feel his erection pressing into your stomach, a clear indication of his arousal. the thought sent your own desire spiraling out of control, and you ground your hips against him, silently asking for more.

"damn, you look so hot," luigi murmured against your neck, his voice a low growl that sent a shiver down your spine. you could feel his hot breath on your skin as his teeth grazed your earlobe, and you knew he wasn't just referring to the way your body moved with the music. the compliment was a spark that ignited the fire burning in your belly, making you want him even more.

his hands grew bolder, sliding down to grip the hem of your dress and hiking it up. the cool air of the club caressed your thighs, sending goosebumps racing across your skin. you gasped as his hand slipped under the fabric, his fingers brushing the lace of your panties. the sensation was electrifying, and you knew that if you didn't get out of here soon, you'd be begging him to fuck you right there on the dance floor.

[csainzsgirly]

soooo carlos x ex bestfriend reader

trying to win her back after he royally fucked up his chances with her

lots of pining, angst + delicious smut when he finally worms his way way back into her heart

smut (18+), p in v, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, carlos being super hot as you remember him being a twink when he was younger, him being down bad and doing everything to speak to you.

also: I usually don't write angst, so sorry if its baddd :(

Waking up on the first of January at six in the morning without a pounding headache and a throat as dry as a desert, was a first for you. But it was a very welcome first. No big party on the last day of the year, no throwing back many glasses of wine and switching to vodka halfway before throwing up your guts in a nasty club bathroom. You felt slightly tired, yet energized at the same time as you got out of bed. It was freezing, goosebumps instantly showing up on your skin when you made your way to the windows on bare feet. Orange and red pastels, a thick blanket of snow, and the Dolomites were greeting you when you shoved the curtains aside. The sun was starting to rise above the mountains, the valley slowly starting to wake up. Leaving Madrid for this - snow, winter, a ski resort, wasn't what you originally had in mind for 2025.

But you had to leave. There were so many bad memories that clung to the city you were born in, where you had always stayed because you were afraid of change, afraid to go somewhere new and step out of your comfort zone. It had felt cringe to tell yourself: this was going to be your year, however, you needed to grab life by the balls for once. You threw on a knitted sweater and pushed your feet into some fluffy slippers, making your way to the kettle to get some tea and warm up the place a little. You had moved to Val Gardena mid-December to start working at Lum D'or, a luxurious chalet in the Dolomites. Cleaning other people's mess wasn't exactly a luxurious job, but it paid very well, especially as the chalet was ridiculously expensive and the people who were staying there often left big tips. This job is supposed to be temporary, to help you on your feet again. You want to go far, far away as soon as you managed to fill your bank account to the brim.

The owners of the chalet, Mr and Mrs Lombardi, were nice and put in a good word for you when you went apartment hunting in the valley. You signed your contract two days ago, after they were satisfied with your work. It was easy, the area was beautiful, and the people here didn't know you. It was easier to hide your emotions, it was easier to be someone you were not. Mrs. Lombardi let you know last week that new guests would arrive on the first day of the new year in the afternoon. The guests had provided her with a list of provisions, which you had ordered and which will arrive today as well. Among the guests was an athlete, she told you, but you were aware that celebrities and sport icons often came here. You would probably barely see them anyway.

After having a cup of tea and some breakfast, you showered and got dressed to face the cold. The chalet was a ten-minute walk from your apartment. The cold air was biting into your cheeks, snow scrunching under your boots. You unlocked the door of the chalet, going through your usual routine - starting up the fireplace in the living room and turning on the heating, making sure the marble kitchen was spotless and mopping the tile floor again. You fell into an easy rhythm of non-stop cleaning for an hour, until the truck with the provisions arrived. The driver helped you unload it into the hallway, from which you would carry it to the kitchen and divide it over the fridge and the drawers. It took more time than you thought it would, but it was barely past twelve, so you had enough time to go upstairs and finish the beds. The chalet hosted eight guests in four bedrooms, and you were notified that all rooms would be occupied.

You were lost in thought while folding the towels and checking the bathrooms, not noticing the cars turning up on the driveway. You were busy with the last bedroom, vacuuming the rug once more and doing the same to the lounging set on the balcony. "Excuse me?" a knock on the door and a voice behind you nearly gave you a heart attack. You clutched the pillow of the chair to your chest, looking over at a man standing in the doorway with his suitcase. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," he smiled politely. "I assume it's okay we are arriving already?" The guests were early, great. "Hi, of course," you breathed, calming down your heartbeat. "I will be gone in five minutes," you said. "Take your time, don't worry," he said, parking his suitcase around the corner. "La limpiadora todavía está aquí, ningún intruso o algo así." Great, Spaniards. And they were over three hours early.

You reached for your phone in your back pocket, seeing a text from Mrs. Lombardi on your screen: Dear, the guests are on their way already. Is the chalet ready?

You gnawed at your bottom lip and quickly replied to her that you were finishing up and would offer them assistance in case they needed it, before leaving.

You took the vacuum cleaner with you and placed it in storage again, hearing the guests downstairs. They were speaking in Spanish, suitcases rolling in, car doors slamming close. You fixed your shirt a little, walking past the other bedrooms to do a quick check and make sure you hadn't forgotten anything in the rush. You pulled the bedding a little tighter over the mattress, fluffing up the pillows a little more and checking the bathroom a last time. You were glad you did, as a couple of towels were left unfolded. Footsteps in the hallway and towards the bedroom told you to hurry. "I'll be out of your hair soon!" you called from the bathroom, stacking the towel before swiftly moving to the other. "Please, don't worry." You froze in your spot, recognizing the voice. The deep, rich sound, the accent when he spoke English.

"I just wanted to apologize for our early arrival, I'm aware that wasn't communicated well, so I-...," he stood in the doorway, looking at you with the towel in your hands. You hadn't seen Carlos in years. You hadn't talked to him in years. He had become a stranger to you, and you had prayed for the universe to keep it that way. But the universe seemingly had other things in mind. "Y/N," he said softly, brown eyes clearly confused and surprised at the same time. You fixed your posture, bitterness filling your mouth. "Mr. Sainz. It's a pleasure to host you in Lum D'or. Please let me know if there's anything I can do for you and your guests before leaving. Else, I will return during my working hours listed on the schedule in the kitchen." The words rolled off your lips in a practiced way, and you put down the last towel a little harder than you meant to. Carlos was still staring at you. "If there's nothing I can do for you, I'd appreciate it if you could step aside," you said, brushing past him soon after.

Your fingers were trembling when you walked down the stairs, taking a deep breath. He was the reason you wanted to leave Madrid behind you as far as you could. Everything fell apart when he left Madrid to race in Formula 1. He had promised you you were part of his dream, but instead he had left and didn't call once. Your friendship was over, as if it never existed in the first place. It had left you heart broken when you were nineteen. And now you were the cleaner of his goddamn holiday chalet. You slipped into your boots and your jacket, leaving through the back door to not disturb his friends. The cold air cleared your mind up a little, and you just hoped, you really hoped, that these three weeks would be over soon and your life would go back to the way it was: Carlos Sainz-less. The thought of it caused your heart to squeeze in your chest, and a lump in your throat became hard to swallow.

You got into your apartment again, relief spreading through your body. Your eyes were burning with salty tears. Seeing him again hurt more than you thought. There were things he wanted to say, you could see it in his eyes, but you knew nothing would ever be good enough to fix how you felt about him and what happened. It felt like you had never been good enough for him, like you weren't worthy enough of being a friend while he traveled the world for Formula 1. Not once you were invited to come over, not once you were texted with an update about his life. All calls went to voicemail. He wanted nothing to do with you, and now you wanted nothing to do with him anymore. It was the hardest thing ever, especially as he was a God in Spain and on every billboard and poster in Madrid. His face was on every corner of your hometown, whether it was an ad at the bus station or one of his race cars in the Santander location a block over.

Ten years later, he was still everywhere.

You turned off the nerves when you went back inside the chalet the day after they arrived. No cars on the porch told you they were all gone, and you hoped to get everything done before they'd come back. Carlos and his friends seemed to be neat. You followed your usual routine again, cleaning the kitchen and the living room before moving up to the bedrooms. You made the beds and cleaned the bathrooms, rolling up the towels like yesterday. You entered the room where Carlos was staying, swallowing hard as you looked around, seeing his belongings. You were about to leave, when your eye caught something laying on the desk in the corner. It was a chocolate bar, one you used to love as a kid. Spanish candy from the old days, candy you and Carlos used to share when you were younger and you were watching him at the karting track. A note was scribbled next to it.

Solías amarlos cuando éramos niños.

With a scoff, you shoved both the note and the chocolate bar in the bin next to the desk. But Carlos wasn't easily defeated. He knew you were avoiding him and you were purposely coming in later to do your work without having a chance to see him. The next two days, he left you flowers or something else that reminded you of your friendship when you were kids. He left more notes, asking you to please let him talk to you, to let him explain. They ended up in the bin every time. You just wanted these three weeks to be over as soon as possible. You felt relieved each time you entered the chalet and it was empty, meaning another day would pass by without you having an awkward encounter with Carlos. Today, however, was different. You thought everyone was out of the house, but you never noticed Carlos was having a recovery day in the heated pool and the sauna.

He nearly scared you to death when he suddenly showed up in the bathroom, a towel around his waist, ready to get into the shower. Your cheeks heat up as your eyes meet his defined chest, strong shoulders and firm arms. "Don't leave," he softly said, already anticipating your next move as soon as you saw him. "No," you pull your arm back as he reached for it. "Y/N... Please, can we just talk?" he asked. "We can't," you said. "I'll come back later to finish the bathroom." His touch burned through your shoulder when he reached for you again. "Five minutes is all I'm asking for," Carlos said, towering over you as he took a step closer to you. You felt the counter of the sink press against your lower back. "You need to stop," you bit. "You left me ten years ago after we were friends since birth. You hurt me," your finger pricked into his chest. "Stop hurting me and leave me alone," you added softly, swallowing hard.

His hair was still a little damp, raven strands messily hanging over his forehead. His features were more defined, more manly, more handsome. You always new Carlos Sainz would grow up to be a hearthrob. He learned to control the scruff on his face, his chest smoothly shaven. The brown eyes remained the same. He was hurt, you could see that, but so were you. "I'm sorry," Carlos said, stepping back. "I want you to know that," his voice was soft as well. "You should've let me know earlier," you said, trembling a little. You looked away from him and made your way out of the room, not looking back before leaving. "Wait!" Carlos' footsteps were audible on the stairs. He was dressed in a couple of sweats quickly, and he moved a sweater over his head while following you around the corner. "I need your help with the coffee machine," he blurted out.

"You-... What?" you asked, your coat already in your hands, ready to leave. "It's not working properly. The owners told me to ask you," Carlos said. "It looked like it was working just fine this morning," you reply. "Well, it stopped working after this morning." He pushed his hands in the pockets of his sweats, a stubborn look on his face you clearly recognized from when he was younger. You drop your coat without a word and move to the kitchen to check up on the coffee machine. It was a ridiciously huge thing, and you were sure they had plucked it out some kind of extravaganza coffee place. You switched the machine on and watched it run warm before you selected the button to make a cappucino. "See, it's not doing anything," Carlos said, standing so close behind you, you could feel the heat radiating from his body. "You're hovering," you mutter. "I'm not," he replied. "Did you give it some time to work?" you asked.

"Of course I did," he stubbornly said. "Did you think of refilling the water tank or do I need to do that for you too when I'm here in the morning?" you look at him from over your shoulder, an annoyed scowl visible on your face that caused the corners of his mouth to go upwards. "You did this on purpose," you state soon after, taking a large cup to refill the water tank of the coffee machine. "I swear I didn't," Carlos held his hands up in defeat, not able to stop the grin from showing up on his face. "What's so funny, then?" you shove him with your shoulder. "You still do the thing with your eyebrow when you're annoyed with me," his face softens a little again. You don't reply to that, instead putting the cup under the machine and letting it make a coffee. "It's working again," you say. "My shift is over," you add, making your way to the hall again to get your coat and bag and leave. Carlos watched you leave, knowing he needed to break down the wall you built around yourself further.

He continued leaving things you loved for you in his room. Every morning, you found something else on the table or the desk. He left more flowers, candy, small gifts. You wanted him to stop it, because you weren't going to give in. His holiday in Val Gardena was almost over, and you couldn't wait for the moment he and his friends would pack everything and leave, so you could continue your life and not think about him again. The problem was, you started to become curious for what he left for you every morning. You stopped throwing everything in the bin. You kept the notes he wrote with them. And it needed to stop. You could sense Carlos was around the house when you made your way upstairs. You started on the other rooms before arriving at his. He was outside on the balcony, reading something while having a coffee. Something shiny was waiting for you on the table.

It was a necklace with a little helmet, his helmet. The one you used to wear when you were a kid and joined him every weekend at the track. You were convinced you had lost it somewhere.

"I kept it," Carlos says, standing in the doorway. The cold air from outside caused you to shiver, and he was quick to close the door behind him. "You don't have the right to do this to me," you reply. "You're leaving in two days, and then what?" you continue. "Then give me a chance to explain," Carlos steps closer to you. "Nothing you say can fix it all, Carlos, don't you get that?" you slightly raise your voice. "You think a couple of presents will just make me forget what happened?" his eyes briefly look away from you. "I was young and stupid, okay," Carlos started. "And I'm sorry," he said. "And I was scared," he admitted. "Scared of dragging you into my crazy life. I don't regret that, but I deeply regret never speaking about it and just leaving." The tension in your shoulders sunk slightly. "The truth is, I didn't know how to tell you. I got a new phone, my socials were handled by a manager, everything changed."

You swallowed hard, unsure what to do or what to say. "I went back to look for you, but your parents said you moved and wanted nothing to do with me anymore. I can't blame you for that," he let out a humorless chuckle. "Look, I get it if you don't want see me ever again," Carlos continued, taking another step towards you. You had to crane your neck to look into his eyes. "But I wanted you to hear this, my apology, because I owed you one. That's all," he said. His fingers brushed over your cheek. "I've always loved you, and I wish I didn't hurt you so much," his deep brown eyes roamed over your face. "You better not be messing with me now," you whisper, feeling his hot breath ghost over your lips, the tip of his nose against yours. "I'm not, we both wouldn't be able to handle that," Carlos says. "Please," he adds, his lips lightly brushing over yours, making you feel dizzy and lightheaded at the same time. Your fingers curl into the material of his sweater.

"Let me kiss you," he finished, firmly connecting your lips with the most delicious kiss. You had kissed only once before, when you were teenagers and wondering what was so special about it. You hadn't understand back then, but now you did. Warmth spread through your chest, a shiver running up your spine when his hand cupped the side of your neck, the other squeezing your waist to pull you closer. Carlos' tongue licked your lower lip before deepening the kiss, your fingers disappearing into his thick hair, tugging on the roots of the strands. A soft whimper escaped you when his mouth trailed down your jaw, to your neck. "Let me make it up to you," his voice rasped in your ear, weakening your knees. He lifted you up with ease, planting you on the edge of the bed. Your fingers pulled on his sweater, lifting it up as far as you could reach. Carlos tugged it over his head effortlessly, his muscles flexing as he threw the piece of clothing on the floor.

There was no denying that he got hot. Really hot. He leaned down to kiss you again, your hands roaming over his naked chest, feeling the smooth planes of muscles, nails tickling his abs. You were getting rid of your clothes soon after, sitting in front of him in a simple black bra and thong, your face heating up at the way he looked at you. To him, you were breathtaking. You had grown into such a beautiful woman, the pink apples of your cheeks and pretty eyes looking up at him causing his cock to stir in his jeans. Long gone was the slim girl who always carried his helmet around. "You're so gorgeous," Carlos says, warm palms feeling your curves, your hips, the flesh of your thighs. "Always knew you'd grow up a maneater," he teases, a grin tugging on his lips at the giggle he'd pull out of you. You reach back for the clasp of your bra, dropping it on the floor soon after. Your back arches as his thumb brushes over your areola's.

His lips continue their path down your body, hot and wet kisses dropped on your skin before he reached your tits, squeezing and massaging the skin, teasing your nipples with his tongue and teeth. It was enough to create an insatiable friction between your thighs, making you whimper and whine impatiently, especially when his mouth traveled south, but not fast enough. A high-pitched oh! was dragged from your throat when his hands firmly part your thighs and his mouth delves in, tongue burying in your pussy without hesitation, licking up and sucking your clit into his mouth. Your fingers disappear into his hair again, nails scratching his scalp in attempt to push his head even deeper between your legs. Carlos groaned at the taste of your cunt on his tongue, flicking the muscle around your hole before dipping in. The obscene sounds of his wet mouth on your pussy filled the room, bouncing off the walls and having you writhing beneath him.

Your other hand reaches for something to hold onto, the poor pillows suffocating in the grip of your fist before they were tossed aside. "Shit, Carlos," you cry, causing his eyes to flicker up to the image beneath him. You looked so beautiful with your head thrown back, your back arched, hips bucking up against his face for more, more, more. "You taste so good," he praises, taking a playful nibble of your thigh, leaving his mark before his tongue laps and slurps and sucks at your cunt again. His teeth tease your clit before he sucks the nub of nerve endings into his mouth again, white-hot pleasure clouding your vision. Nobody had made you cum like that in a long time, the deliciousness gripping all ends of your nervesystem and making you tremble slightly. Your toes curled, but you felt the butterflies again when he sat up and unclasped the belt around his jeans. Carlos zipped the denim down, getting rid of the clothes he was still wearing, freeing his cock from his underwear.

You grew even hotter under his stare, watching his fist close around his fat cock, which he stroke once or twice before hovering over you. The heat was radiating off his body, your palms feeling his hot skin when your hands moved over his shoulders and to his biceps. He felt heavy atop of you, the weight of his body pushing you deeper into the mattress. He slipped inside you so effortlessly, stilling slightly as he was buried inside you. You fit so well together, he couldn't believe you didn't do this earlier. Carlos withdrew his hips slightly before rolling them into yours again, your teeth biting into his shoulder at how good he felt. His cock was stretching you out, your walls burning a little with both pleasure and pain. Your smaller body fitted perfectly underneath his, his broad back almost making it unable for you to wrap your arms around him and claw at his back. His lips were nipping at your neck again, low grunts audible against the shell of your ear.

You moved together so well, moans and growls getting louder with each slam of his hips into yours. His fingers dug into your hips, into the back of your thighs as he lifted one of your legs higher up, spreading you further open and splitting you with his cock. You felt on the brink of another orgasm already, babbling his name and barely able to form coherent sentences. He was fucking you so well, you felt drunk, spinning out of reality and chasing your climax so desperately. "That's it, baby. Can feel your pussy squeezing me," Carlos grunts in your ear, fingers slipping between your bodies to rub firm circles over your clit. Your lips connect in an intimate kiss, your pussy gripping and sucking him in, desperate for both of your releases now. His cock was throbbing against your walls, and his thrusts got a little firmer, harder, deeper, making your eyes roll back and high-pitched moans harder to control. Your thighs tremble slightly at the intensity of your orgasm, weak moans escaping you as his body tenses in the best way possible before releasing.

Your toes curl again as he slowly thrusts through both of your orgasms. Your thighs are sticky with your mixed juices, which he's still keeping inside with his cock. "The universe brought us together again," he muses against your neck, leaving warm kisses up your skin before he gathered the strength to lift his head. "I think it did," you nodded, roaming your hands over his chest. "I knew it as soon as I saw you when I arrived," Carlos continued. "I'm not planning to leave so suddenly now," he said, caressing your face lovingly. "I want us to work." You look into his eyes, seeing that he truly meant it. "Stay a little longer," you propose. "Don't leave yet. We can catch up before your season starts again." Carlos nods slowly, agreeing with the plan. "Today was supposed to be a recovery day," he hums, kissing your shoulder again. "What time are the others coming back?" you ask. "After lunch," Carlos replied, lifting his wrist to look at the time. "We have some time." You push his chest to flip the two of you around, your heart skipping a beat at the sight of Carlos, your Carlos, beneath you. "Unless you want to recover," your nails tickle his chest slightly.

"Definitely not."

[norikuna]

you've reached norikuna's masterlist / minors dni! compiled jan. '25

𓂅⭒ ִ fics 𓏲 ִֶָ

GOJO SATORU.

she told you that she celibate, she told me i could nail her shit — college!au, friends to lovers, nsfw ᵎᵎ you wish gojo satoru would stop trying to ask you out. not that you don't like him, but dating the one guy that you're smacked silly about would mean that he could break your heart and leave you in ruins. so it's best to keep some distance right?

just meet me at the apt! — hookup/strangers!au, sorcerer au! nsfw ᵎᵎ your ex, that sleazy and no-good scumbag won't stop posting tacky mirror selfies on instagram, arm around his fellow cheater-in-crime. so, christmas eve finds you morose in a dodgy dive bar. why not tumble back into bed with that random, gorgeous stranger you just met?

i love you so matcha — fluff, angst, sfw ᵎᵎ green was the color of life, and gojo satoru, in all his contradictions, carried life in the way he loved recklessly, laughed shamelessly, and held you like the universe began and ended with you.

cream soda — rivals to lovers! nsfw ᵎᵎ you've always known that gojo satoru is a real piece of work. arrogant, haughty. definitely has a praise kink for when people always call him 'the strongest.' but you're not even friends anymore, so this isn't any of your business...right? what you didn't know is just how nasty he is, caging you in front of a mirror to lick away blood that he spilled from the veins of another man, one who dared to touch you.

i love you, i'm sorry — ex!reader, angst, suggestive ᵎᵎ gojo was always charming, maddening and impossibly brilliant. a gift and a curse to the world. the love of your life, the loss of your life, the one that got away. you can only sit alone with his cold, lifeless form and wonder where it all went wrong. how do you mourn a star that burned itself out for the sake of the sky?

greedy — age gap, nsfw ᵎᵎ pretty, prodigal, and teasing. how far can you push your former teacher before he snaps? gojo's about this 🤏 close from releasing a hollow purple on the world

ditto — best friend!gojo, angst, fluff, sfw ᵎᵎ brave, lucky, courageous. these are the words that people bestow upon you when the dust has cleared, and the king of curses is no more. you disagree, for if you were lucky, gojo satoru would still be standing at your side. instead you've been left to stare at the ocean shoreline on your own, without your best friend (the love of your life) by your side.

GETO SUGURU.

bed chem — established relationship, nsfw ᵎᵎ ditching your friend's christmas condo party for your scrumptious, needy boyfriend? yes please!

born to die — ex!geto, lovers to enemies, nsfw ᵎᵎ it's been three years since suguru left all you had ever known, crumbling it into the fine dust of the earth. a suspiciously timed mission from gojo leads you right into the arms of the man you swore to kill. well, fuck him right?

RYOMEN SUKUNA.

achilles come down — true form!sukuna, wife!reader, sfw ᵎᵎ you had given the king of curses what he had wanted the most, an heir, borne of the wife that he loves. but for one typically vicious and unshakeable, you wonder why sukuna is left so shaken by how much your daughter takes after him. you wonder at how the vast ribcage of a demon and a cold killer, who can make the sun rise in the west if he so wished, was once the ribcage that held the beating heart of a young boy, with little space for him, or his mother, in this world.

so it goes — wife!reader, nsfw ᵎᵎ newly-wed life is hardly what you expected it to be, its hardly a surprise. after all, how many people find themselves bound to the notorious king of curses? but after a frosty few weeks, sukuna finds the easiest way to win you over is when he's on his knees, and between your thighs.

TOJI FUSHIGURO.

that's so true! — dilf!toji/neighbours!au, nsfw ᵎᵎ you vowed to yourself that you would rock toji fushiguro's world as a new year's resolution. but it's christmas eve already, and the year is almost over. by hook or by crook, you're gonna that gorgeous, buff older man in your bed tonight.

mama, a diva behind you — dilf!toji, sfw ᵎᵎ toji loves his son, he really does. unfortunately, young megumi is less than receptive when it comes to toji's efforts to impress the pretty neighbour who just moved into the apartment down the hall. or five times megumi actively made toji's love life worse. and the one time he actually helped.

CHOSO KAMO.

what? like it's hard? — college!au, sfw. ᵎᵎ you were the glittering prom queen, the crème de la crème of the school's social heirarchy. and yet, choso kamo, the quiet boy with no friends shattered your heart. you wish you could hate him forever but it's hard when he's your partner in med school three years later, and he's hot now.

last friday night — best friends to lovers! nsfw ᵎᵎ it's been seven days since you wobbled into your apartment and almost threw up on your best friend. seven days since you confessed your love to him. seven days of radio silence as you've done your best to shut him out, hoping that the earth swallows you whole. there's no way he's going to want anything to do with you now!

cheri cheri lady — bf!choso, nsfw ᵎᵎ its hard not to be endlessly fond of your sweet boyfriend. he's quiet, unassuming but sweet, oddly so for a half-curse. but god, you want to jump his bones so bad.

NANAMI KENTO.

youngblood — mythos!au, hades&persephone ᵎᵎ tba

note — this masterlist is for all 'proper' fics, and not drabbles or thirsty thoughts. all other works can be found under the tag /daphworks.

[oonajaeadira]

That Awoooo Inside You, Pt. 3

Fandom: The Wild Robot / Fink the Fox

Pairing: Fink <3s OFC fox Farrah

Rating: G all the way, don’t worry. This is keeping in the world and disgustingly wholesome. Prolly too clean for tumbles 😆

Warnings: None. It’s for cuteness and for heart.

Summary: After the events of The Wild Robot, a new resident joins the island. She’s a little withdrawn and Fink finds out why. It's not what he expected.

A/N: The end of this chapter was partly inspired by @grogusmum. She knows what she did. And if she doesn't, it's illustrated afterward.

Thank you to everyone who enjoyed my very very fluffy--in all senses of the word--tale. I had to. I just had to.

PART 1, PART 2

“Hey-ey-ey,Greedy!” Fink laughed as he called out to Farrah, her tail and back feet hanging out of the hollow of a dead tree trunk. “Just because I gave you the first turn doesn’t mean you get to eat it all! I want some! My turn! My turn!”

Farrah backed out of the hollow and down the grey stump, honey sticking to her whiskers and snowy ear tips, her front paws covered in the golden goo. “Sorry! I got carried away! I’ve never had anything like it. There’s plenty left…I think…”

Distracted by the remnants on her paws, the white fox began to clean them up, eyes wide, still in awe of the sweetness Fink had introduced her to. It was almost a contest as to what was going to win his attention–the honey hive, or Farrah’s dainty licking–but like any fox, food won out and he was shoulders deep in the tree trunk before his heart had any say in the matter.

Once he was gorged on the stuff, Fink skittered his way out from the hollow and joined Farrah in the grass. It was her turn to wait while he cleaned his own paws, but being familiar with honey, he was far less of a mess than she had been. One, two, licks of his paws and then–

He hadn’t meant to do it, but he was a fox. He did foxy things. And that meant not thinking when it came to food. It wasn’t until Farrah was ducking away from him, putting some distance between them, that he realized what he’d done.

He’d instinctually gone to lick the honey off her ears. 

Now she crouched, cowered, alert, her bright eyes–one light, one dark–wide and peering back at him over her brush of a tail, and he could sense the spring that was building in her legs, her heart running as hard as her feet wanted to–

He was suddenly almost as scared as she was. “Sorry! I just– I only– your ears…” The only thing he could think to do was back up. Sit down. Her eyes were still moons in the white sky of her face.

After a couple of months on the island, she was still skittish, still easy to startle. Fink had done everything to make her feel at home, done everything he could do to show her she was under no threat here. She was quick to play with the raccoons and had even fallen asleep on Thorn’s big fat bear belly once or twice on a chilly evening.

But somehow, Fink still spooked her. Maybe he just saw it more since they spent so much time together. Or maybe he was too quick, too rough. Or maybe….

…maybe she didn’t want him to get close in that way.

He could feel his shoulders hunching, his ears drooping, and with them, he sensed a slackening of Farrah’s tension.

“Sorry, Fink, you just… I…” Stepping slowly, she stopped halfway to him and sat, nervous, avoiding his eye. “Guess I’m just a mess. I didn’t realize I still had hummy on my ears.”

Normally he would have laughed. They would have laughed together. “Honey.”

“Heh. Honey.”  A little breeze shifted the grass and Farrah made an attempt at a playful sneeze, but it was half-hearted. “You can…clean my ears if you want to…”

“It’s okay,” he smiled, just as half-heartedly. “You wanna go down to the shore and take a swim? I don’t want to be sticky all day. Ants.”

“Sure.”

She led the way now, more confident in her path about the island and he followed, although feeling as if he was dragging his heart behind him.

He remembered how much it hurt when Brightbill flew away for the winter, but it was a good hurt, because they would see each other again.

And he remembered how much it hurt when Roz left the island. That one hurt in a different way because he knew he may never see her again, but he had good memories, and he knew that he had friends and a good life because of what she did for them all.

But this was a hurt he didn’t recognize. It was like the hurt he used to feel when nobody wanted him around, the hurt he learned to ignore, the hurt he used in order to become clever and figure out the very best ways to get exactly what he wanted. Similar, but not the same. 

Because that pain was borne out of the rejection of everyone. Like sleeping on a bed of pinecones.

This ache could not be ignored or pushed away.

Being rejected by one special someone in particular, he was learning, was much worse, like sleeping on one particularly spiky pinecone.

With one, big jagged spike.

Pressing right against his heart.

“Look! Your favorite!” Farrah came trotting out of the water to him where he sat on shore, feebly scrubbing his paws in a tidepool, and laid a huge clam at his feet, its bulk almost too big for her smaller jaw. He nodded, but kept scrubbing. A crab scuttled past as a larger wave lazily slapped the rocks behind her, the water dull under a hazy, late spring sky. “Fink?”

The thought just fell out of his mouth. “You really never thought about finding a…a mate?”

Farrah blinked, eyes wide again. This time he could tell it wasn’t with the instinct to flee, but he could hear her heart racing all the same. “I… no. Where I’m from, nobody would take me.”

He wanted to run away, scared of what he was feeling, scared of what he might say, what she might say, what might happen to their friendship, but couldn’t stop himself. “But, you’re not there anymore. You’re here. And things are different here. Everyone’s a little different here and…and…just because you… your…” He couldn’t keep his tail from twitching, his claws making little arpeggios in the sand, his tongue babbling away without him, “I like your fur. It’s not practical but it’s beautiful, it catches the sun. It’s a part of you and I like you so you don’t have to worry about being different or the runt of the litter here. I think it’s a miracle you’ve made it, it means you’ve had to be strong and smart and you’re–”

“My fur?” A tilt of Farrah’s head showed initial confusion. “What’s wrong with my fur?” And then just the hint of her ears leaning back, a paw pushing at the sand as if bracing for a fight, her tail curling around herself again. “Who said I was a runt? I’ll have you know I was the second biggest kit of my litter.”

Now it was Fink’s turn to blink in surprise. “But.. no one said, it’s just… you are on the small side so I just thought you might–”

“Wait. Fink,” she calmed then, a realization breaking over her, her spine straightening, ears perking up. It was one of the rare moments they’d had together where he was able to look her in the eye and she didn’t back down, where suddenly she was allowing him in and he felt suddenly hopeful. Did she just hear what he said? Was she just realizing how he felt? Did she like him too? He swallowed hard, anticipating what she would say next.

It was much different than what he expected.

“Have you…never met a winter fox?”

The words pushed through him, trying to find a place to settle into meaning. “Winter? Fox?”

“Yeah. A snowy fox. Like me.” When he could only stare blankly, she smiled sadly. “Oh, Fink. There are different kinds of foxes where I’m from! I’m a winter fox. We’re all white like this and smaller than the forest foxes. We don’t usually mix with the forest foxes because…” here she looked down at her little white paws making a delicate triangle in the sand, “forrest foxes hunt winter foxes. They’re brutal predators. They..they eat us.”

Whaaaaaat??? “WOWWWUH,” Fink breathed, aghast at this breaking news, happy for her to have escaped that peril. “They sound like huge jerks. You’re better off here without ‘em.”

She lifted her head then and a light huff fell out of her, it was nervous and hesitant, and thinking she was laughing, he was momentarily proud of lightening her mood. Until she said, “Fink…you’re a forest fox.”

There would be few more profound moments in Fink’s life than standing on a shifting shore, learning that he had yet another fate in the world, an alternate place where he could have lived a completely different life, one that could be seen by someone other than himself. 

He sat in shock and looked at her. She was so small, so vulnerable. He himself was half again her size. She was fast, but he was faster and could easily outrun her and catch her if he wanted to. She would often bring him shellfish to open for her and then watch in something like awe as he crushed it easily in his jaws.

In hindsight, maybe it wasn’t awe. Perhaps it was horror.

He was starting to understand that his heart could break twice in one lifetime. Maybe twice in one day.

He needed time to stand still for a minute so he could gather his thoughts, fix this somehow, assure her that he wasn’t like the foxes she’d known, make her see, he wasn’t like the forest foxes that she’d known, he would never, if only the waves would stop crashing and the geese would stop honking–

Honking! The geese! The geese were returning! Brightbill!

Fink was up and turning on the spot, watching the incoming flock, but also agitated by the interruption, unable to stop himself. “Farrah, I… can you… can you hold that thought? I’m sorry, I just–” And without waiting for her, he ran. 

He couldn’t remember being faster, needing to run faster, faster, his blood rushing in his ears. The flock would land just down the shore near by and he found a spot close enough to the treeline so as not to spook the ones that didn’t know him, but still out on shore enough to be seen. And then he danced. 

He couldn’t help himself. Bounding in a circle, paws tap tapping the wet sand, he yelped like a pup in with its tail caught, and sure enough, an orange-tufted bird broke from the group and came straight for him, dive-bombing him out of the sky, goose and fox colliding in a poof of feathers and fur and rolling and laughter as Brightbill made a triumphant return to the island.

“Hey, buddy! You came back!”

The goose laughed. “It’s spring. Where else would I go?”

“Oh, I don’t know. You could fly anywhere. I’m sure there are tons of islands better than this one.”

“Yeah, but none of them have a Fink.”

Fink grinned, the familiar fondness for his friend doing some soothing work on his aching heart. “How was the trip?”

“Long. Who’s that?” Brightbill tipped his beak to the treeline, and Fink followed his gaze to the flash of white ducking behind a tree.

“Oh. She’s new. Farrah! Hey!” he called to her and her little face appeared around the trunk. “Brightbill’s home! Come meet the kid!” Trotting toward them, she looked warily side to side at the arriving population on the shore, and he lowered his voice to give the goose advice he couldn’t yet accept himself, “She washed up half-drowned a couple of months ago. Still kinda shy. Don’t take it personally.”

“Oh, that reminds me!” Brightbill turned to the crowd and honked, calling to a large, long-necked and ruffle-feathered gander who was chatting up a gaggle of ladies. The gander immediately turned and closed the distance, winging over to their little family group and settling next to them, much more gently than his mass would have led anyone to suppose. “This is my…ah… my nesting partner, Crusher.”

“Fink, yes?” Crusher honked, husky and low. “Charmed.”

“He’s joining us from another flock this year.”

Crusher chuckled and ribbed Brighbill. “Might stay forever at this rate.”

The smaller goose couldn’t help but blush. “You mind if he stays in the hut with me?”

Fink smiled, a rush of happiness for his little fledgling–all grown up–tempered only by the awkwardness every parent feels when they bring their sweetheart to visit. “Absolutely! You can have the best bed in the place.”

“What?” Brightbill flinched. “Your bed? Are you sure you’re Fink?”

Fink shrugged and leveled his shoulders, a smug smile tugging at his mouth. “What can I say? I’m a great guy. Fantastically generous. Full of surprises.”

“That last part’s true for sure.” Brightbill turned to Farrah. “I assume you’re responsible for this show-off’s drastic change in behavior?”

“Hey!” Fink protested, but Farrah laughed her wondrous, loud laugh and introductions and welcomes were made. He watched her as she warmed to his adopted family and before long they were trotting back to the hut, many of their friends there to meet them, having heard the flock arriving from the south.

The rest of the day had a general family reunion atmosphere. Thorn bumbled off into the trees and came back with an entire wild raspberry bush he’d yanked out of the ground, heavy with a spring crop. The raccoons brought up snails from the woods and clams from the beach. Pinktail brought in this season’s club of little rascals who all got a fast and low ride on Crusher’s back over the surrounding treetops. Before long, the fireflies were coming out, lighting up the grasses in the clearing around the hut and Thorn had started a warm fire inside.

It was there that Fink was listening intently to Crusher’s tale of home, the shoreline where he grew up. Since meeting Farrah, Fink had become increasingly interested in learning how different and yet the same so many other places were. It was like he learned something new about the world every day.

Like the fact that there were foxes in the world that were even bigger jerks than he was.

Or than he used to be.

He scanned the hut–quieter now as many of the young animals were nodding off and cuddling with their mamas who in turn were engaged in low, pleasant conversation by the light of the fire. At first he thought Farrah might have left, the crowd too much for her, but then he caught the moonlight glow of her fur through the doorway out in the clearing, Brightbill at her side. They were deep in conversation–Brightbill doing most of the talking and Farrah watching him intently–and Fink felt a little contented spark of loving happiness as he watched them bond.

After a while, Brightbill waddled into the hut toward Fink’s precious, beloved, grassy nest, drowsy and sighing. “It’s been a day. Did you really mean it? Can we bed down here?”

Fink sighed, pulling back the sass he was so accustomed to leaning on, just this once. “Yeah, kid. I mean it. You two have had a long journey. Take a load off. I’m just glad you’re home. You want me to shoo everyone out of here so you can sleep?”

“Nah,” the small goose shook his head, his eye wandering across the line of pictures Roz had created of him not so very long ago. “We’re used to sleeping in a crowd. And it’s nice to hear the voice of friends.”

Once Brightbill and Crusher were comfortable–heads tucked under wings, Crusher’s free wing almost completely covering the smaller goose–Fink wandered out into the clearing where Farrah sat under the stars. She was staring up at the moon as she often did on nights like this, most likely thinking about her family and how no matter the distance between them, they still had the same night sky.

“Mind if I sit?”

She didn’t flinch, didn’t turn to watch his every move, just kept watching the twinkling of the stars. “Not at all. It’s a nice night. Quiet. Calm.”

Mindful of what he now knew of her past, he kept his distance, but still where she could see him and feel safe just out of reach. Fink looked up to the big, silvery moon, round-faced and kind. It reminded him of a certain robot he once knew.

“He’s a great kid, clever and kind,” she said after a long silence. “You really raised him right.”

Fink scoffed and winked at the moon. “It wasn’t really me who raised him.”

“That’s not how he sees it. He thinks Roz was great, but she couldn’t have done it without you. You’re just as important to him that way. He told me so many stories.”

Digging at a spot in the ground, he did his best not to look too interested. “Yeah? Anything…good?”

She laughed then, softer than usual, but still winning the prize for his very favorite sound in the world. Standing, she came closer and Fink kept still, trying not to breathe too fast as she sat as his side, shoulder to shoulder. She was warm. She smelled like raspberries and snails and something else…something intoxicating. “Well, good enough.”

“So he convinced you I’m not going to eat you.”

“Something like that.”

Ah. He’d have to remember to thank the kid later.

“I’m sorry about earlier, Fink. I didn’t know you didn’t know about–”

“Why do you think nobody would have you?”

Farrah blinked up at him. “What?”

“You said where you were from, nobody would want you. I can’t imagine the kind of idiots you must have grown up around.”

She smiled then, a little sadly, turning her gaze to her paws. “My eyes. Nobody wants a mate with mismatched eyes. They assume I’m blind or can’t see as well as them, that because of it I wouldn’t be able to survive or I’d pass it down to their kits who'd have trouble surviving. It’s not true, but I don’t stand a chance against another vixen with matching eyes. That's nature. I just kind of accepted it.”

“Are you kidding me?” Fink gasped. “Your eyes? But they’re amazing! They’re one of my favorite things about you. They’re–” and then he faltered as she looked up hopefully at him, those bright eyes–one light and one dark–bewitching and so very distinct. And suddenly, all the fear and snark left him as he felt himself turning to pure, dopey goo. “--they’re…beautiful.”

She snuggled into his shoulder then, finally giving in, her tail coming to rest over his, wrapping herself around him. And he marveled at how fast a broken heart can heal up. As if it had never been hurt at all.

Yeah. He was really gonna have to thank that kid.

“I think I’d like to go curl up in bed,” she said, finally breaking free and turning back toward the hut where the warm orange light spilled over the snoring bulk of their bear friend and the nearby soft pile of sleeping geese. “You coming?”

“Ah, I gave my bed to the kids. I’ll probably just sleep in the grass tonight.”

She smiled, her eyes shining in the moonlight. “No you won’t. Not when there’s plenty of room in mine.”

He thought he wouldn’t be able to sleep for joy. Not with his kid home again. Not with all of his friends so close by. Not with his nose buried in the fur of Farrah’s shoulder or the curve of her slumbering body curled up around his own. Not with his heart beating as broadly as it was.

But he did. He slept. Soundly. And well.

____

SERIES MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

Fink and Farrah, illustration by @grogusmum

[aninipanin1]

Miss Manager's Miscellaneous Shenanigans

Being the manager of Blue Lock had its pros and cons, but one thing's for sure: doing your chores is easier when you have the whole facility simping at your feet.

Notes: Manager Reader is female, but I rarely use pronouns, so any gender may work for this. Manager Reader IS age 16-17, so her love interests would only be those near her age. Anyone else who is older than 20 will be platonic.

ISAGI YOICHI

It was yet another day in the Blue Lock Facility. But, compared to other days before, the air was a little hotter than usual. Even if the facility was rather closed off and most of the inside was air-conditioned, the vents still bring in the air from the outside. Unfortunately for most of you, the temperature outside was hot, and everyone who entered the training fields could immediately feel the sweat start to form even if they have not played yet.

As the manager, you immediately responded to this. Cleaning off the tumblers and filling each of them up while also preparing fresh and clean towels to bring to the many training fields scattered around the facility.

"30 down, another 30 to go."

You could not help but sigh, feeling your arms go numb as you held up another empty tumbler on the water fountain provided in one of the kitchen areas. You found yourself looking at anything around the area to distract yourself, but it's like there was anything interesting about kitchen tools, drawers, or table islands.

"Y/n-chan, do you need any help?"

You hear a familiar voice as you turn around to find Isagi, who offers a polite smile, with his Blue Lock bodysuit on, probably just finishing his training.

"Oh no, no, it's fine. I don't wanna intrude. You should probably just get some rest before taking a shower."

You reciprocated his smile, putting the dozens of towels and tumblers on a pushcart for easy travels. But the boy insisted, grabbing a few bottles and towels himself and putting it on another cart.

"It's fine, Y/n-chan! I can use the small workout pushing these things. And besides, how are you gonna push more than 3 carts by yourself?"

You stopped at that, looking at the 5 carts you prepared, one for each stratum as you mentally sighed.

"I was planning to do many back and forth travels, but you know what? One travel with a little help would be much more better, wouldn't it?"

Isagi laughed at that and agreed, carrying more tumblers to another cart. You just smiled at that, a little happy for the help.

Meanwhile, all that Isagi can think about is the fact that he had another advantage to win you. After all, who would not love a gentleman? Besides, seeing the happy smile on your face was enough to make his day a little brighter.

Today was really not Isagi's day. His pinky toe was hurting when he woke up for some reason, which lessened his performance that day, adding to that was the hot day as well. But hey, at least he got to help you and see you smile.

BACHIRA MEGURU

"What's wrong, Y/n-chan?"

You turned your head to Bachira, who was pouting, his golden eyes wide and curious with a hint of worry.

"Nothing's wrong, Bachira-kun."

"Don't lie..! Your is turned upside down! My monster told me that you're probably sad."

You blinked at that. You thought you hid the fact that you were a little down that day. You just received a text message from your mother that, unfortunately, your cat (C/n) just passed away due to food poisoning, and you were heartbroken.

But, of course, your job must go on, and you wanted to remain professional. Well, until Bachira seemed to take notice of the fact that you have been preventing yourself from looking sad.

"Don't worry, Y/n-chan! You can talk to me, remember? I don't like it when you're sad."

"Thanks, Bachira. It's just that my mom texted me yesterday, and um, well, she said my cat died. And, I just didn't want my feelings to get in the way of work, so I tried to keep it."

"Oh, I'm sorry-"

"No, no its fine. In fact, I'm quite happy that you were willing to listen."

You gave a small yet much more genuine smile, noticing that he looked quite guilty that when he found out the real reason behind your sadness.

He let out a grin before opening his arms and wrapping it around you. You tend to always forget he was quite the muscular guy, probably from all the practice. His childish and bright personality always made you feel comforted, yes, but you also underestimated him. But nonetheless, his hug was warm. Soothingly so, and it made you tear up.

Until you were now full-on sobbing on his shoulder. Perhaps it was because of the loss, but maybe the homesickness and pressure of everything weighed down on you at the same time along with the grief. You did not know.

But what you did know was that Bachira comforted your weary and grieving soul.

He swayed his upper body along with yours, hoping the movement may help calm you a bit. And it did as you slowly picked yourself up, sniffing and wiping your tears away.

"T-thank you, Bachira-kun. I really needed that."

He grinned again before patting your hair.

"No problemo! My mom always said hugs can always heal any sadness away!"

You smiled at that.

"Your mom is correct. It really did."

His smile widened at the now lighter smile on your face, his pointer fingers now pulling the sides of your mouth higher as he cheered.

"Now you're happy for realsies!! You're prettier like this, Y/n-chan, especially when your eyes are also smiling."

CHIGIRI HYOMA

"Are these all the laundries?"

You turned to the occupants of the room, Reo was currently out of the room, probably training, leaving only Nagi who was laying on his bed, sleeping away and Chigiri, who was drying his hair from a shower.

The redhead smiled and nodded his head before turning his head at Nagi, who was passed out. And around his messy bed were his dirty socks, sweaters, and other dirty laundry. The lazy genius did not find the energy to put all of it in one basket, causing it all to be scattered in his side of the room.

"Oi, Nagi! Pick up your damn clothes and put them in one basket. Be thankful Y/n-chan is already doing your laundry for you!"

"Don't want to. 'Ts a hassle."

And he fell asleep again, making a vein pop in Chigiri's forehead. Meanwhile, you just laughed and shook it off.

"It's fine, Chigiri-kun. I'll just pick it up."

Chigiri rolled his eyes at this, not agreeing with how forgiving and patient you were to the white-haired striker. He put the blowdryer down before heading over to your figure that was already picking up the dirty laundry of Nagi's.

"I'll help you. I feel kind of bad."

You blinked before giving a smile that made him smile as well. He felt quite bashful while also impressed. How can someone be so calm and understanding towards everyone? He would never understand that. Maybe it was because he was quite intense, and at times, demanding?

But, he was quite happy and satisfied that someone like you was the manager of this whole Blue Lock thing. You were so approachable and easy to the heart and even eyes that even he, someone quite guarded, found it easy to rely and talk to you.

"Thanks, Chigiri-kun!"

As you two picked it up, you could not help hut laugh whenever Chigiri would flick a sweater in Nagi's face or "accidentally" dropping a dirty sock on the genius' nose, out of spite.

Nagi just shrugged this off, thinking that caring is also a hassle.

"Thanks for picking it up for me, Chigiri."

Nagi muttered in his sleep which just pissed the redhead off.

"I did it for Y/n-chan, not for you, you idiot!"

MIKAGE REO

"I have to what?!"

"I'm so sorry, Y/n-chan, I know you're already so busy but, the JFA insisted for this to be submitted tomorrow."

You blinked at the pile of papers you needed to read and edit and somehow submit to the JFA Union tomorrow, and it was already noon, too. How will you even finish this?

Nevertheless, work is work, so you accepted, asking Anri to put the papers in your desk. For the rest of the day, you just focused on the paperwork, zoning out of reality and time to just hopefully meet the harsh deadline that loomed upon you.

"Y/n-chan! Have you seen - oh, sorry, did I interrupt you on something?"

Looking up from your desk, you found Reo peeking his head from your office door. You gave him a polite smile, tilting your head.

"No, its fine, Mikage-kun. How may I help you?"

"Eh, I already told you, Y/n-chan. You can just call me Reo. Oh, and I just wanted to ask if you know where Chris Prince is? I have a few questions for the training regime we have."

"Oh, right, sorry. And, I heard he and the rest of the masters have a meeting with Anri-san and Ego-san. They would probably be over in a bit."

He nodded at that before he looked at your face that screamed, stressed. Your hair was in a messy hairstyle, with your baby hairs and other strands falling on your face. Your eyes looked weary, with bags under them.

"What are you doing? You don't look too good."

"Ahh, these? These are reports made by Anri-san and Ego-san. I'm the one who's gonna edit all of these for the JFA. It was supposed to be passed next month, so we weren't in a rush, but then they moved it to tomorrow, so here I am."

Reo winced at the thick pile of paperwork. He just stood there for a bit until a smile broke out of his face. He did not need to contemplate. After all, he was always willing to help you.

"Come on, I'll help you with that, Y/n-chan."

"Eh? But, I don't want to intrude-"

"You aren't! I don't like how you're stressing over this. Besides, I do have experience with professional reports because of my father's company, I'll be fine!"

You were ready to say 'no' again, but he was ahead of you, picking up half of the papers and finding a chair to sit on beside you.

"Reo-kun-"

Then you felt a pinch on your cheeks as Reo pinched both of your cheeks lightly, chuckling at the cute expression on your face.

"Shhh, I already told you, it's fine. Just focus on your work, okay?"

"Ehkway.."

You bashfully said as he continued pinching your cheeks. Reo could not help himself. You were too adorable when you acted all mature and responsible.

NAGI SEISHIRO

"Finally. This week was so busy."

You found yourself walking like a zombie towards your room. As you passed by the dining halls, your ears picked up the sounds of hushed gunshots and shouts like someone was playing. Peeking your head at the door, you found a familiar mop of white hair sitting on one of the chairs, head and arms on the table, said arms stretched out and tapping on his phone.

"Nagi-kun? Why are you still here? Lights off is in an hour."

The boy perked up, as he lifted his head when he heard your voice.

"Y/n-chan...It's just a hassle to stand up and walk to bed."

He pouted at the notion of even standing up from his position. You sighed at this, knowing the tendencies of Nagi. He was not called "Lazy Genius" for nothing, after all. Sitting down beside him, you were prepared to pull whatever words you can from your brain to hopefully convince him to head to the rooms or else, Ego would probably scold him.

But, you couldn't help but watch how effortlessly aim and shoot in the games he played. For someone who found moving or even thinking of the notion of moving was a hassle, he moved his fingers across his phone screen quite flawlessly. He was skilled and agile on his hands and you cannot help but be impressed.

"You're really good at this, Nagi-kun."

"Meh, I missed a guy earlier."

You chuckled at that and patted his hair, which made him scratch his head against your hands, resembling a cat. That only urged you to pat his head more. His hair was quite soft even with all the tangles, seeing as he was probably too lazy to brush his hair.

"Your hands are warm and soft. Y/n-chan. I like them."

"Eh, um thank you..?"

You did not know if you were supposed to take that as a compliment, but you just did. Then he turned his head to you, offering his phone.

"D'you wanna play?"

"Huh? Oh no, I'm not really good on games like that."

He tilted his head at that.

"It's fine. You said you like rhythm games, right? You have the instincts and skills to move your fingers accurately already, so you'll learn fast on this. I'll help you."

"Oh, okay, if its okay with you."

You accepted his phone, albeit unsurely. He moved his head to rest on your shoulder to watch and spectate on your gameplay, teaching you what to use and what not to use. Even giving tips on how to better your aim or how to find opponents fast.

It was a calming experience. Nagi was a really good teacher when it came to games, very straight to the point and simple with his words. His voice was quite calming, too, not low but definitely a bit on the huskier and whispery side, as his voice and hums vibrated on your shoulder.

Like with you, Nagi found himself enjoying the moment. No noise except the sounds of the game along with your and his voice adding small quips. Your shoulder was also quite comfortable, your body warm, contrasting the cold air the air conditioning in the dining area provided.

He liked your presence, so serene and gentle, yet sharp enough to excite him. That's was his first impression of you, rather. And that has yet to change.

He was too immersed and comfortable beside you that you two did not notice the time passing. It took Ego coming inside the dining area to scold you and Nagi for both you to notice the time and head to your respective rooms.

But, deep down, Nagi did have to admit, he felt quite annoyed and disappointed that you two had to part so early.

I got too carried away with Nagi's meanwhile Chigiri's felt too short oop- anyways I hope you all loved this one. I might make many parts for this one. I really wanna make Miss Manager a series but idrk...

Blue Lock is WRITTEN by Kaneshiro Muneyuki and ILLUSTRATED by Nomura Yusuke. All credits to the both of them.

[ribbonskiss]

ANOTHER ROUND -> CS55

Part 1 of 2. Read Part 2 here.

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x reader

Summary: A spontaneous night out alone lands you in a new bar in town, owned by a man whose story seems to intersect with yours—not that you know it, yet.

Tags: strangers to lovers, meet cute, pretty fluffy, slow burn, multi-part fic

A/N: okay so I got REAAAALLY carried away with this one so it’ll probably have to be a two or three-parter 😭 in other news, happy new year everyone! I’m excited to be writing more things and sharing them with you all in 2025 ☺️ IF YOU SAW ME PUBLISH THE WRONG DRAFT NO YOU DID NOT

It is eight o'clock in the evening and you’re not ready to go home yet. It’s a beautiful Thursday night, the air is crisp, the city is bustling with people, and the streets are lit up by ornamented lampposts that line the sides of the roads. You stumble out of the restaurant with a satisfied stomach, your leather bag slung over your shoulder, but your legs don't want to take you to the metro. The idea of returning home now when the night is still so young fills you with dread instead of relief.

So you don't. It’s been a while since you’ve had time for a night out—or rather, a while since you’ve allowed yourself to have a night out—and since then, new things have popped up in the city. In the financial district, only a ten-minute walk from your work’s building is a newly renovated record bar that smells like tobacco and leather, now popular with the vest-wearing yuppies; almost directly across it, a respectable upscale quasi-pub where lower-level white collars sing karaoke together after a long week. Away from the business district and just to the side of the city’s centre is an area of distinct character: cosmopolitan but residential, filled with terraced houses and stylish small bars. It’s an area where young parents have to put their little ones to bed, so the little cocktail joints are designed for jovial chatting and conversation, not riotous boozing and bad decision-making. To you, this is the place to be. Naturally, you set off.

The walk is breezy and gentle on your heeled feet; you’re not quite wearing stilettos, but the heels are still dangerously fiddly. A blink of an eye later and you’re turning around the corner into the main street, one side littered with dazzling storefronts that have turned their lights out for the day and bars that have only just started their work hours. You furrow your eyebrows, halting to a stop as you lean up to squint at a sign you don’t recognise. El Matador. You look inside—dark green interiors, tasteful brown leather booth seating, sleek black stools at the bar if you dare approach the broad man in a dress shirt currently turned to the shelves of alcohol on the wall behind him. The place is tiny, cosy, bebop played at a low volume softly transitioning into Sade. The lights aren’t so dim, lamps hanging over the patrons’ heads so the light hits them like a halo. Everyone looks beautiful in here tonight—

—Least of all, the bartender. The moment you settle onto a stool, you regret being so unprepared for such a situation. It’s not that he’s audacious or brash; he’s nothing like a charging bull eager to sweep you off your feet. When he smiles modestly at you, it’s less on his lips than in his eyes, those soft doe eyes that twinkle in the dim lighting, even as his thick arms and messy hair suggest he’s no Bambi. He quickly folds a towel and throws it into a bucket before turning back to you.

“What can I get you?” he says. Thick accent; explains the tan.

Your eyes dart from side to side, looking for any spare menus on the bar counter. He shakes his head, chuckles softly to himself, and the sound of it makes you feel a heat start to pool in your stomach. “Sorry,” he says, seemingly genuinely apologetic. “No menu. Just tell me what you want, and I’ll tell you if I can’t do it.”

You let out an awkward sound that’s somewhere between a nervous chuckle and a sigh of relief. “I’ll just take a gin and tonic,” you say, and he nods briefly before wordlessly turning his back around again. “Good choice,” he says. “Testing the new guy with a classic, ah?”

“So you are new?” you ask timidly, embarrassed at how uncultured you sound. “Sorry—I just haven’t been out for so long, so many of these places seem new to me.”

He glances at you over his shoulder briefly before pouring the tonic over a spoon into the glass. You can’t tell what expression he has on his face, and it makes you chew on the inside of your cheek. “We just opened a week ago.”

“Change of location?”

“Change of occupation,” he smiles, garnishing your drink with an inspired choice of kumquat citrus before serving it to you. He’s rather mild-mannered, and strangely precise for someone new to the business, you think. He points around with his finger. “This is my baby now.”

Your eyes widen. “So you own the place. What were you doing before?”

He winces a bit, and it makes your stomach feel bad and weird when you notice it, hoping to have not offended him. “Finance,” is his succinct answer. “It’s high-pressure. Antagonistic. Then eventually, your conscience catches up to you.”

Ah. You smile bitterly. “I know that all too well.”

He seems to light up at your words, cocking his head a little to the side as he places his rough hands on the counter. “What do you do?”

“Definitely nothing on your level of ranking, if my assumptions are correct,” you say, and it earns you a chuckle from him. “But something similar. Nothing fun, nothing fulfilling, but the situation is stable.”

He nods. “But at some point, life has to be more than just stable, no?” he says, pushing your glass towards you again. “Drink. There’s no poison, I promise.”

You smile, pinching the straw towards your lips with your fingers. He watches you in anticipation. “It’s good,” you say with a satisfied nod.

His shoulders seem to loosen in relief, and it makes you chuckle to yourself. “You’re quite modest for a matador,” you comment.

“Ay, no,” he shakes his head with a smile. “I am not the matador. My father is El Matador.” His eyes drift above your head towards the photo framed on the wall behind you. “He wasn’t thrilled when I went into finance. He was right, it took a lot out of me, but I’m here now and it just made sense to name it after him.”

He lets out a sigh, takes a moment to think to himself before shaking his head. “But I won’t bore you with the details,” he says, hands still firmly on the counter.

It seems more like he doesn’t want to unload on you. And you won’t push him. “But you can make me another drink, yes?” you smile.

With a soft chuckle, he nods. “That I can do,” he says. “What’s your next choice?”

You return the week after on a Friday, after deciding it would be too miserable staying in after a whole day working from home. It’s less the dinner that you’re looking forward to and more so the painting of a bullfighter in red that adorns the wall at El Matador, and you finish up your pasta quickly to take a brisk walk towards the bar. To your surprise, it’s someone else manning the bar tonight, a man considerably more boyish and fresh-faced even with his scruffy facial hair.

You take a seat at the bar again. “Bonsoir,” he smiles, drying his hands off on a towel tucked into his back pocket. “What can I get you?”

You blink, looking around on the off chance the owner will somehow magically appear. The new bartender furrows his eyebrows. “Hello, good evening?” he quips, tilting his head as he looks at you with a puzzled expression. “Ah, I’ve lost her. I must be terrible with the ladies.”

Awkwardly, you laugh and start to explain yourself, but then he does magically appear—from behind the shelves. “We both know that’s not true, Charles,” the tanned man snickers, patting the new boy fondly on the shoulder. “But I’ll take this one, anyway.”

Then he settles in front of you. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you smile.

“You came back,” he says, and you nod affirmatively. “Next time, just ask for Carlos, the better barman—”

“—I heard that,” sneers the man you presume to be ‘Charles’ as he reaches for a liquor bottle on the shelf. It makes you giggle, watching them banter smoothly like this, seeing a side of Carlos that isn’t just quiet introspection.

“How’d you find another bartender on such short notice?” you ask, once the laughter dies down in your chest, leaving behind only a gentle smile.

“I didn’t,” Carlos shrugs, leaning over the counter now. “He just didn’t show up last Thursday—”

“Again, I hear everything you say, and again, that was a mishap in communication,” Charles snaps again from behind Carlos, his peculiar accent growing thicker as his tone turns playfully irritated. The older man simply waves away his words. Soon enough, they take turns narrating the story of how this place came to be (though each insists that his version is the more accurate one, you manage to piece together a more likely timeline from both of their contributions in your head). Charles was Carlos’ co-worker; they were always friends, but work was turning them into fierce rivals; and when Carlos dropped out of the rat race, Charles realised he no longer had his heart in it either. “Why not?” he says, telling the story like a true showman. “I’ve got more than enough in the bank, I’m set for life, and Carlitos bears the majority of the brunt if this falls through.”

“To be clear, he stands to lose a lot as well as an investor,” Carlos clarifies with a roll of his eyes.

“Eh, still,” his impish friend shrugs, with a mischievous smile that suggests an incredible case of the gift of the gab. “Carlos, do you plan on making the poor girl a drink or should I swoop on your customer?”

You end up staying until closing time. Thursdays are the new Fridays, and a spot in this part of town was never going to be bursting with people anyway, especially when it’s new, so Carlos and Charles manage to keep conversation with you just fine even as they’re working. As it turns out, you’re not the only one who’s a returning customer—especially when Charles, with his frisky demeanour and polished looks, has grown adept at attracting a certain kind of clientele. You can see why that is, absolutely, but Carlos catches you off-guard often; you find out that he’s bitingly funny, often going quiet for a few minutes just to slide in with a quip that makes you heave with laughter. He’s lowkey about it, eager to fade into the background as his colleague plays the role of the raconteur, but you notice every little joke he makes, his blink-and-you’ll-miss-it digs at Charles and all of his little expressions when something unexpected happens. Carlos knows that you notice them, too. He’s glad that you do.

Soon enough Charles bids you both goodbye, rambling on about how his girlfriend Alex is waiting for him at home and how she rags on him for having forgotten to bring home a jug of milk three nights in a row. Carlos shoos him away with a smile, wishes him a goodnight’s sleep and sends him off with a pat on the shoulder. And then it’s just you and him, together, alone. He’s turning the lights out one by one, running a hand through his hair as he lets out a long, deep breath, almost as if he’s sad to go home.

“Are you sure you don’t want my help?” you ask.

“No, no,” he shakes his head. “Absolutely not. You’re a customer. But I suggest you pick up your things now, before it gets too dark.”

You nod, flinging your bag back over your shoulder and picking up your coat. You walk out the door, watching as he flicks the last of the light switches and locks the front door. His keychain jangles; you notice he’s got a charm on it in the shape of a chilli pepper and bite back a smile.

“I hope this isn’t weird.”

He smiles at you, his hand turning the key to finish off the final lock. “It’s not. I’m glad you stayed,” Carlos says. “I’m glad you came back.”

Your stomach is doing that weird thing it always does whenever you make eye contact with him now, but you choose not to read into it. He puts his keys back on the carabiner on his belt loop, shoves his hands into his pockets. “Do you live near?”

“Kinda, yeah,” you answer. “I’m a 20-minute walk away.”

He looks down at your feet. “…Not in those heels, no,” he shakes his head, motioning at you to come with him. “Come. I’m driving you.”

Hesitantly, you walk with him towards a carpark nearby, where a sleek silver Mercedes SUV sits idly. “Jesus,” you chuckle in surprise. “You really were a rank above me.”

“A rank or two,” Carlos shyly admits, reluctant to make a show out of it. He’s walking towards the passenger’s side now to open the door. “Get in, come on. You must be tired.”

He’s right, but you say nothing, thanking him as you slip into the seat. You wonder if you said it too quietly. You wonder if he thinks you’re ungrateful. When he makes it over to the driver’s seat, he tells you to punch your address into the GPS and promises not to break into your home. You laugh and it makes it hard to type the words in fast.

The car sets off and you lean against the leather, eyes shutting for just a moment. Carlos allows himself a split second to glance over at you. “You’re very observant,” he says.

Your eyes shoot open at the sound of his voice. “How do you mean?”

“I mean, you’re a good listener, at least,” he continues, eyes on the road now as his GPS’s voice chirps, telling him which way to turn. “I’ve never made anyone laugh as much as you.”

You turn your head. Even in the darkness of the car, the street lights passing by illuminate his tan skin, sparkling brightest in his eyes. “But you’re very funny, no?”

The words seem to resonate with him, the corners of his mouth twitching for just a second, as if he’s trying his best to not smile. He has very seldom thought of himself that way; in the presence of friends like Charles, or god forbid, Daniel, it is easy for him to fall under the perception that he is a charmless man. He’s never complained or allowed himself an inch of self-pity anyway, but this is nice. This feeling is nice. “I could be,” Carlos says, perhaps pausing a little too long. “I don’t get that one very often.”

You arrive at your apartment block too soon. The car halts gently to a stop; he’s a very smooth and skilful driver, just as smooth and skilful as he is with bartending. You wonder how one man could be so careful with everything as he is—especially a man who had only just left such an aggressive occupation. “Well, this is me,” you say, and he leans over you to look out the window, sizing up your building.

Picking up your things, you try to open the door yourself, but he beats you to it, hand stretching out to tug at the handle. You bow your head down a little in gratitude (what, oh God, who does that, this is so embarrassing) and bid him goodbye, walking towards the front entrance. He watches as you struggle to open the glass door, always underestimating how heavy it is. Carlos chuckles to himself. You don’t hear his engine rev again until you’ve disappeared into the elevator shaft.

Questions? Thoughts? Feedback? Ideas for the next part? Feel free to leave anything you want (except hate mail) in my askbox. All my love <3

[boredpotate]

Happier Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I do not own Arcane or any links. I only own the concept idea to this story and the story itself.

Concept: Isekai Fem Reader turns back time to fix her timeline, but it has unforeseen consequences.

Reader Pov

"MMMMPPPHHH!!!" I let out a muffled yell of pain. One of my kidnappers stomping on my braced leg; the leg brace being broken a while ago with some of the parts being bent or broken off.

I tried to escape, I really did, but that blow to the head really isn't me doing me any favors. They snuck me back down here to the deep end of the Undercity and once far enough away, they started their "payback" in some fucking dead end alleyway. Taking turns punching, kicking, slapping and just overall beating me to a pulp.

"Hey! Remember not to mess her up too much. We won't get paid if you break the merchandise" The woman who I determined as the boss of the rest of the group.

"Oh c'mon! We did this to get payback didn't we!?" one guy says as he kicks me on the ground as a heave for breathe.

"Yes, we did. We also all want to make an actual pay from this right?," their boss says and I can only guess the others agree, "Then we can't fucking kill her! We fuck her up, let her have what has been coming for a long time and then get paid. After that we can start making big moves down here, especially after this bitch is stuck in recovery." she says as she grabs my hair and lifts my head up to show them my state before throwing me back into the dirty alleyway floor.

"Fine. Still gonna have our fun though." Someone says kicking me in the back, the bruises that were already beginning to form from earlier assaults making the pain much worse.

I feel emotions rising again, but I don't shed tears for them. That would just make them happy. Instead I hold out and hope for this to be over soon; for the pain to just stop already. But a part that I try to bury down still sticks to my mind. A part of me that fears that this won't end, that they won't stop, they'll get carried away or change there minds.

'What if I die here?' the thought runs through my head as someone else decides to join in and get their hits in. The pain not getting any better, and only escalating as I scream out from behind my bindings.

"AAAAMMMMMPPPHHH!!!"

Powder Pov

"So what is it you wanted to talk about?" Ekko asks as we dance together as the music plays and people party and mingle around us.

"Two things. First, Y/n and I talked and she said some things that really touched me and open something up in me. So, I want to present the power cell with you. As partners, like you said you wanted to; before I walked off on you like a bitch. Sorry about that by the way." I say, feeling a little guilty now that I think back on when Ekko first asked me and I got upset at him.

"Really!? That's great! And you don't have to apologize for being upset. You were going through some things. We all do. But are you sure? You really want to do this with me?" he asks which makes me smile.

"Yes. I really do. I-I don't want to be stuck. I was scared of messing it all up and screwing things up for you too. I thought I would fail at it all..... but then Y/n talked to me. I'm still scared, but if I fail, I want to work through it. I wanna push forward and keep trying. I want to do that with you, Ekko." I admit, and he smiles and we lean into each other and have an intimate moment together on the dance floor.

Ignoring a random whistle and comment towards us from someone who is probably drunk as shit, even though the party just started.

We pull apart and continue dancing; holding each other close and I feel a weight be lifted off my shoulders. Finally feeling..... free.

"You don't know just how happy that makes me Powder. I promise you won't regret it," he says with determination in hus voice making me smile at his steeled resolve, "And the second thing?" He asks, making me a little nervouse.

"Right. So y'know how we said we would talk about our "thing" with Y/n tomorrow?"

"Yeah. Why?" he asks as he furrows his brows.

"Well when Y/n talked with me she said some things that were really touching and meaningful and then something inside me was just like 'Oh shit. I love her,' sooooo I may have kiiiiiiisssed heeer" I say as I shrink back slightly, afraid that he will be mad.

"......Okay." he says casually which makes me stunned and we stop dancing.

"Wha?"

"Okay. Surprisingly, I'm not mad."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Usually I would, but this is Y/n we're talking about. We both know we have a "thing" for her, and I honestly don't mind," he explains making me relax more as I hold his hands, "Is that weird?" He asks and I take a moment to genuinely think on it before answering.

"No, at least, I don't think it is. Even if it were the other way around, I don't think I would be mad either. As long as it's her," I say as I think back on those beautiful words that Y/n let spill from her lips. Her soft lips, "She makes me feel a certain way. Just like you. She brings something out of me that I didn't know was there." I say, and I hear Ekko chuckle.

"I know. She's also kind." "Caring too." "Loves Isha." "Always wants to help." "Cute too." "More like hot as fuck."

We bounce off of each other as we list the things we have grown to love about Y/n in just a month of knowing her. I smile and think back fondly on all the times we spent with Y/n and Isha. Just living life happily together.

"I love her, Ekko."

"I love her too." He says and we both stand there, two idiots in love with someone and wanting to bring her into our lives.

"You think.... You think she might feel the same way?" I ask him with hope in my voice.

"I don't know. You're the one who kissed her. You tell me." he says with a laugh.

"Well she didn't push me away, but she also didn't kiss back, although I think that's mostly because she was in shock. You should have seen her face."

"I got a glimpse of it when you two came back. Looked like her brain was fried" he says and we both laugh a little at that, "Since we're on the topic; how was it? The kiss?"

"It wa-"

"Hey you two!" I am interrupted by being pulled into a tight hug by none other than my sister Vi.

"Hey sis." I say in a strained voice.

"Happy you made it." Ekko says, his voice also strained and I see Cait shaking her head over Vi's shoulder.

"Of course we made it! This is a big night! Sevika's here too, but she went straight to the bar for a drink." Vi says as she somehow squeezes us tighter.

"Sweetie, you're gonna kill them if you hold them any tighter," Cait says, making Vi let go and take a step back, "You two looked like you were in a good mood. I'm guessing the energy cell was a success?" Cait asks.

"You know it. I already have it on display and ready for Powder and I to present to investors and the judges." Ekko says, making Vi perk up at the mention of my name.

"Together?" Vi asks, and both she and Cait look towards me expectantly so I give them a nod, making them both brighten up more, "That's great! Amazing! So are you two are going into this as partners?" Vi says excitedly making me smile at her encouragement.

"Of course. It's like what Y/n said. We're gonna rattle the stars." I say as I think back on those beautiful words that reached and touched such a deep part of me.

Suddenly I feel something ram into my lower back, almost throwing me off balance, begore quickly turning aroundto see Isha in a new frilly dress. Looking very happy.

"Isha! Look at you! When did you become royalty?" I ask as I kneel down to get a better look at her and she does a twirl to show off her dress to us.

"I didn't know Isha was a princess. Cupcake, why didn't you say anything?" Vi says jokingly and get's a pinch on her arm.

"I'm not a princess, and my family isn't royalty. We just collected a lot of influence over all of the years." Cait defends herself.

"So, basically royalty then." Ekko says, making the rest of us chuckle as I pick up Isha, and Caut sighs in defeat.

"Ekko! Powder! There you guys are, I've been looking for you two," I hear and turn to see Mylo and he does a double take at Vi and Cait, "Oh, hey! Good to see you two made it."

"What did you need?" I ask.

"Just wanted to let you know there's already some high profile looking people eyeing your energy cell, if you wanted to leave some early impressions on some investor's before the competition. Claggor is already showing off our plant. See?." he says as he points in a direction and we see Claggor showing off their invention to some people.

"Shouldn't you be with him?" Ekko asks and Mylo burshes it off and blows a rasberry.

"That's more of Claggor's thing. I'm better off mingling with the ladies." he says smugly and obviously eyeing at Gert on stage.

"You're such an idiot" I say as I shake my head, before feeling Ekko grab my hand as Vi tries to give him some advice on what not to do with women.

"Wanna make an impression?" Ekko asks and I look at Isha who nods her head happily.

"That looks like a yes. But first; hey sis! Cait!," I call to them and grab their attention, "Can you ask Y/n to meet us at Ekko's display? She helped us make it too, so I want her to be there when we show it off. That's fine, right?" I ask Ekko and get a nod.

"No problem! Where is she amyway? You four Are usually always hanging out together." she says with implication in her voice.

"She was sitting at the bar the last time we saw her. She should still be there," I say before adding on more thing, "And if she looks like she's in shock or contemplating something. That's fine. Just send her our way." I say we start walking away to where I would presume Ekko's display is.

"Don't worry, we'll find her." Cait says reassuringly before we start heading to the power cell; it already having people inspecting it.

"You ready?" Ekko asks me and I nod.

"Always."

Caitlyn Pov

"Can you believe it, Cupcake? Powder is gonna present with Ekko! She's finally gonna get out there and show off to the world." Vi says excitedly. Which I understand completely considering all the times I've heard about Powder holding herself back.

"She looked happy. I wonder what made her so confident to try now?"

"I'm willin' to bet it's her and Ekko's latest eye candy," Vi says with a smirk, "Those two are lovesick if you ask me." she says as we look for the girl in question around the bar area.

'Who would've thought an investigation would lead to a new addition of our family and friends.' I think back to just a month ago when we first met Y/n in this bar. I was slightly scared of her then, but afterwards she showed a much mofe gentle side of her. One that cared and laughed.

"Vi! Cait! It's good to see you two made it!" Vander calls out as he finishes serving a handful of people.

"Of course we made it. We wouln't miss such a big night." Vi says as we approach the counter.

"I saw you two lookin' around the bar. Somethin' wrong?" he asks sounding concerned.

"Nothing at all. We were just looking for Y/n. Powder and Ekko want her there with them to present their power cell, and said she should be here. Probably in an unusual state too, but Powder said that's fine." I explain to get rid of his worries.

"Oh, good. Don't need trouble on such a goon night. Last I saw she looked freaked out about somethin' before going out the back door for a breather. Though I don't know where she went afterwards, Silco and I got busy once the party started kickin' up."

"Thank you. We'll go check to see if she's still out there." I say as I glancs at Vi and nod towards the door, before making our way there.

Once outside and in the alleyway that the door leads to, we do a quick scan around to see if she's here.

"Damn. Not here either. You don't think she got drunk and wandered off do you?" Vi asks me with some worry in her voice.

"No. Vander would have told us if she drank. I also don't think he would have let her out here on her own is she was drunk."

"That's true. He wouldn't risk that on any of us." She says as she goes deeper into the alley to see if she might be nearby, and I head the opposite way towards the main street.

As I walk, I suddenly hear a small wet sound when I take a step.

'It didn't rain today.'

I take a step back and look down before kneeling to get a closer look. My eyes widen slightly at what I knew was blood. My shoe making a print of it and some drops of it surrounding the area I stepped

"You got something over there Cupcake?" Vi asks, but I don't respond. Trying not to panic.

'It could be from anything.' I thought before spotting something familiar laying near a trash bin.

"Cupcake? You okay?" Vi asks now behind me, but I get up and quickly walk towards the object and pick it up. My eyes widening.

Y/n's helmet. No doubt about it with the bunny ears Isha drew on it. It's dented in the back and I turn back to Vi, her now leaning down inspecting the blood before looking up at me and her eyes widen in fear just like my own at the helmet before looking into my eyes. We have a wordless conversation through our eyes before rushing back inside.

Y/n was in danger.

Powder Pov

"With this, it should produce a much more effecient power cell. Both for long-term use and energy efficiency. We...." Ekko continues to explain to people that have shown interest in the energy cell. It's been going great. Isha seemed to like the attention when we mentioned how she along with Y/n helped us with putting it together. Speaking of.

'Where is she?'

It shouln't be taking this long for Vi and Cait to find her. Unless Y/n herself didn't want to come, but they would have told us if Y/n refused.

I take a glance around the bar and try to see if I can spot her when I see Vi and Cait rushing in through the back door, not caring to close it. I see them rush over to the bar and immediately grabbing Dad, Silco, Sevika and Benzo's attention, as I see fear on their faces. My heart starts beating faster at their expressions and only get's worse when I see the other three's expressions go from shocked to fear.

I hold Isha closer at that and tighten my hold on Ekko's hand and give it a tug to the side.

"Um, could you give us one second?," Ekko asks them before stepping aside with Isha and I, "Powder, what's wrong?" he asks and I only nod towards the bar and he looks to see what I see. Isha noticing as well.

We move forward to try and get a better look at what's happening through the crowd, and I spot something in Cait's hands. Something I recognize immediately as we get a better angle.

"Y/n's helmet." Ekko says for me with with worry in his voice.

I see a dent in the back of it and look up and see that Cait has spotted us. She doesn't need to say anything for me to know what happened. I can see it in her eyes.

Y/n was attacked, and by her absence took also her.

'Someone kidnapped Y/n.'

Something inside me awakens at that thought. I don't care. Y/n was taken away. We need to get her back.

I need her.

We need her.

Reader Pov

How long has it been? Minutes? Hours? I don't know. All I feel is pain and exhaustion as I lay limp in a dirty alley. I tried to grt away from it all and dissasociate, but the pain is too much. My throat feels strained from all the yelling and screaming.

"Alright! I think that's enough. We gotta move before someone finds us here," Their boss says, but I feel a foot apply weight on my braced leg. I only groan in pain as I am too tired and in too much pain to scream, "I said enough! Anymore and you'll kill her."

"And!? This bitch has had this coming for a long time!" The man from earlier yells out.

"Because then we can't get paid, remember? We got our payback; now we get paid." Their boss says again.

"I say we off her here and now. Bitch deserves it." A different woman says and I hear some murmurs of agreement from the others.

"Are you guys crazy!? We do that and the enforcers will come down on us harder than they already are now!" Their boss says, trying to regain authority, but it doesn't sound like it's going well.

"She's the reason why they're hitting us as hard as they're in the first place! What happens after she recovers and comes for us!?" the other woman says, getting more murmurs of agreement.

"I say we send a message." I hear the guy from earlier say. I start panicking as I see someone hand him my shovel that was taken off of me and start walking towards me.

"Hey! This is not the plan!," Their boss tries to step in front of me to stop him, but is blocked by others and moved aside, "Are you guys serious!? If you do this we're fucked!"

I try to get up to run or fight. To at least do something, but I'm too tired and in too much pain. I can only hardly push myself up with my arms before being stomped on my back.

'This is it? Dead in a fucking alleyway?,' I thought as I am kicked to roll over on my back. The others all cheering the man on as he steps over me, 'Maybe this is the cost? Time letting me face the consequences of my actions,' I barely stare up at the man as he lifts my shovel high over his head. Ready to bring it down onto me, 'As long as they live.' I try to accept, but then the memories come running back to me.

Talking with Vander, Silco and Benzo.

Listening to Heimerdinger play toons on the street.

Messing around with Claggor and Mylo.

Having tea with Cait and Vi.

Sevika showing her tough love.

Going out with Powder, Ekko and Isha.

Talking, laughing, caring and living.

'I want to live.'

I move my head last second and the shovel imapcts the ground next to my head and I use as much strength as I can muster curl up and kick him away. I use the force of the kick to roll over onto my feet and try to run in the confusion, but don't make it far. Someone manages to trip me and I fall down again.

"Damn! She still has some fight left in her! Not enough luck though!" The guy says with a laugh as I try to get up, but I get stomped on my leg.

"Stop! If you do this we're done for!" their boss, or maybe former boss, tries again to stop him but is stopped.

I can only look over my shoulder as the man with my shovel stands over me again and raises it high.

'At least I tri-'

*BANG*

"AAAGH Shit!" The man yells as he drops the shovel and blood spills from his hand. I look forward and see Cait and Vi there.

"Drop your weapons now! Or else!," Cait yells out orders, but no one moves. She shoots near one's head and only barely misses, "I'm not asking again! Drop! Them!," she commands them and they follow orders this time, "Back away from her to the end of the alley! Now!" she says and I glance back to see them continuing to follow orders.

I hear Cait and Vi get closer to me and I can only make brief eye contact with Vi before they move to stand between me any kidnappers. I hear people running from where Cait and Vi arrived and look forward again.

"Cait! Vi! What happ-......" I feel a wave of relief go through me as I hear Powder's voice and see Ekko next to her with Claggor and Mylo behind her.

They rush over and untie my restraints before gently turning me over after seeing my state. Powder gently lifts my head to lay it on her lap instead of the cold floor and brushes some hair from my face. I can't help but let tears fall now and cry. I turn myself into her and she holds me close; not too tight because of my bruised body.

"Someone get her gun." Vi says and Ekko is quick to respond and get's it from the floor and brings it back to Powder and I. Handing it to Powder to hold onto.

"Kids! What's goin' on!?," I hear Vander's voice now, rushing towards us and I peak out from my embrace with Powder to see him, Silco and Sevika. Vander is wearing his old gauntlets. They give me concerned looks before staring down the alley at the thugs on the other end, "What happened." Vander says, sounding more like a command than a question.

"They were going to kill her. We got here right before that guy was about to cave her head in." Vi answers and I feel Powder stiffen at that. I feel her hold on me only tighten a little. Not too much to hurt me, but just to have me closer.

"Ekko." She says and no other words are exchanged. He looks over at the thugs, specifically at the one bleeding from his hand before he picks up my shovel from the floor.

He walks forward and before the guy can step back Ekko swings the shovel at him, knocking him to the ground; the others backing away from the sudden outburst.

"Wait! Wai-" he's cut off as Ekko doesn't stop. He keeps beating on the guy on the ground. No one tries to stop him. Not even Cait; who keeps her rifle aimed at the other thugs.

"Wait, he doesn't ha-" I try to protest through a strained voice, but Powder just cradles my head closer to not see what's happening.

"Shhh. It's okay. Don't worry about it. Everythings okay now." she says as I hear the guy's yells and screams and Ekko beating him senseless. I hear bones break, blood leaking and more screams.

"Stop! He's had enough!," I hear their boss say, but Ekko doesn't stop. He ignores her and keeps going. I feel one of Powder's arm loosen and peak out to see the woman go step forward to grab Ekko, "Sto-" *BANG*

I hear a familiar gunshot. Not from Cait. Powder's arm with my gun in hand is extended out towards the woman. Powder shot her. The woman drops dead and I stare in shock at her corpse, before Powder wraps her arm around me to hold me close again. Ekko continuing to beat a man to death; his screams and yells getting weaker. I hear the breaking of bones and blood being spilled. No one stops him.

"Wh- Why did you....."

"It's fine. They deserve it." she says in a certain tone that sounds too familiar. Too much like Jinx.

I'm overwhelmed by emotions. Too much happening for me to know what to do. Eventually Ekko finally stops and I can hear his labored breathes.

"We-We won't resist arrest. We'll go to Stillwater!" I hear a thug says and getting no protests from the others.

"Vander. Y'know what needs to happen right?" I hear Silco ask, "They hurt one of ours. They were going to kill her." he continues in that cold tone I know all too well.

A few seconds goes by before I hear Vander's heavy footsteps walk forward towards where I know Ekko is.

"You're done here, Ekko. Kids! Take her home."

"What!? Dad, they were going to kill her! If Cait and I di-"

"There might be others who might try something Vi. Take her home," Vander says again as Ekko walks over Powder and I, "We'll handle the rest."

"What!? We'll turn ourselves in! We won't bother he-" the voice is cut off by a loud impact.

'What are they doing!?'

"Come on, let's go home." Ekko says as he picks me up gently and I can only get a peak over his shoulder at what is happening. I see another dead body in front of Vander, there head looking like it was caved in. Powder runs a hand through my hair before gently coaxing my head to lean into Ekko.

"Don't worry about them Y/n. Get rest." she says as if there isn't a massacre about to happen.

As we leave Vander, Slico and Sevika in the alley with the rest of the thugs, I can feel my exhaustion taking over. The screams and yells being left in the distance. My eyelids grow heavy before I have no choice but to sleep. Too tired and hurt to fully process anything that is happening.

"It's okay. You're safe now. Just rest. Isha is waiting for you back home." Powder says softly before I finally drift off into sleep.

Hope you enjoyed. And hopefully 2025 is a good year for everyone. Sorry for any grammar mistakes.

[hugsandchaos]

Regarding this post

How would Frostbite react to Danny having a panic attack like that? How does he respond to it? Is he able to help Danny calm down?

I don't know, just a thought- I'm a sucker for the father/son bond it made me think of when you mentioned it.

Frostdad

You wouldn’t believe how much I actually struggled with the panic attack scene, it was insane. I had to do it over and over again, but I’m proud of it! The ending was a little rushed, so it might not be as good as my usual work, but I plan to add more if I can because I’m starting to like the ideas I got from it! I just had to give you what I already had written down, I think you’ll like it! I’m sorry if it’s shorter than you were expecting. I got way too carried away with possible scenarios and ended up with a bunch of vague notes instead of actual writing 😆

——————————————————————

First Encounter

Frostbite could still hardly believe it. The Great One, Savior of the Ghost Zone, right here! In the same room as him! If the chief wasn’t so focused on the core readings in front of him, he’d be practicing what to even say to him in preparation for when he woke up. He very briefly glanced over to the bed where he was resting before turning back to the screen. The warrior was exactly as other ghosts had described. At least, at first.

He was small, about the same height as a two hundred or three hundred year old, and had very little fur aside from the rather big patch on his head that covered some of his face. His eyes were opened briefly a while ago to make sure they weren’t damaged or that he didn’t have a severe head injury, and they were indeed the same green as the ectoplasm that flowed through them all.

His limbs didn’t look like they have much muscle, but Frostbite knew from the stories that they weren’t as weak as they seem, but they were as injured.

Yes, the Great One was discovered when an unknown ghost entered their borders and triggers the sensors. By the time Galeforce had gotten there with Frostbite by her side, the Great One was already unconscious and bleeding out into the snow, staining it green. He was brought into the hospital immediately, and many odd things were discovered.

For instance, it became clear during core scans that the Great One’s core wasn’t done maturing. It hadn’t even finished developing its ice powers! This meant that he wasn’t a ghost for very long, and it was frankly concerning. They’d heard that he wasn’t a full ghost and was half human. From the limited information they had, they knew that humans couldn’t handle the extreme cold very much.

The room had been raised to a high enough temperature that the he’d survive and hopefully be comfortable. It wasn’t something the doctors couldn’t handle, though. Building tolerance to a warmer room was practically a requirement in certain fields of medicine in the Far Frozen.

Frostbite was getting pretty warm, however. He looked at the clock. It had been 45 minutes since he came in. He’d need to take a break in the next 20 to 30 minutes if he didn’t want to begin experiencing problems.

A high pitched beep from the computer snatched Frostbite’s attention away from the clock and forced him back to looking at the monitor. The Great One’s core was picking up in vibrations and becoming more active, and the strange rhythmic thumping known as a “heartbeat” had picked up as well. The strange waves from his head were changing as well.

A small groan came from the bed. The chief snapped his head to the side. He was waking up.

The Great One was waking up!

Without thinking about the others wanting to see this, Frostbite rose from his seat and walked towards the bed, both out of excitement and concern for his patient.

The Great One turned his head and made an expression that Frostbite had seen before in patients waking up from an incident. It seemed almost like a struggle, but once they were open, they drifted around the room lost until they landed on Frostbite. Frostbite composed himself and bared his teeth in a smile. He reminded himself to keep his voice down since he had just woken up.

“Hello, Great One. It is an honor to—“

Frostbite was cut off by a scream.

The monitor beeped loudly from a jump in the core vibrations, and the other machines began to follow as they picked up on a sudden increase in ectoplasm pressure, and breathing rate. The veins in the Great One’s body flashed a bright green glow as ectoplasm rushed to the surface to harden it. It became so hard and taunt that little crevices were glowing along the skin. It almost looked as if the skin was going to break apart.

The Great One started reaching for the IV, but couldn’t grab it. He tried again and again, but his hands were shaking too hard to fully grasp it. Frostbite reached out to grab his wrists once he realized that the ghost was trying to pull out the IV. The Great One’s breathing rapidly picked up and grew shallower.

“Hey, hey, don’t pull that out!” Frostbite exclaimed. He was pulled out of trying to impress the Great One and back to acting the way he does with other patients, which suddenly felt like an obvious choice.

It seemed to have only made the problem worse as the Great One began fighting back, tugging his arms and made noises of distress. Frostbite is a doctor, but he is also a chief who takes his people’s protection very seriously, so it was no struggle to keep his hands around the Great One’s wrist. Then it was as if he was speaking another language, but if it was, it was nothing like Frostbite had heard. His injured core was practically screaming to be released, to run away and escape the danger.

“What’s going on?!” A voice shouted from outside the room. Frostbite turned around to see SwiftIce run into the room.

“I think he’s having a panic attack.” Frostbite said. He had to restrain from shouting, but the urgency was in his voice.”Get the diazepam, now.” He said. He turned back to the ghost and tried to put on a friendly expression.”Hey, hey, it’s alright.” He said calmly. He knew those words alone wouldn’t work, but it was a place to start.

The Great One pulled harder on his arms and began to move around as he struggled and failed to get his hands free. His eyes squeezed shut from the strain.

“Look at me.” Frostbite said gently. He lowered his head and knelt down so he’d be closer to the young one’s height.

The halfa opened his mouth and repeated the phrase from earlier, then repeated it again, but with extra “words”. It might be whatever it was that humans spoke. It would make sense for his first language to be a living one since Frostbite knew that some ghosts were humans before becoming ghosts. This wouldn’t be a bad thing if they had a translator.

“Please, look at me.” The chief repeated. This time, a little bit more sternly in hopes that the child would listen.”Get something to calm his core and muscles!” He called out, very briefly turning his head before looking back to the halfa.

Green eyes filled with terror opened up and looked at Frostbite, but only for a split second before looking beside him. Tears threatened to spill as he doubled his efforts to escape. Now, he was kicking as well. He cried out when he moved his left leg, which was still wrapped in bandages stained with green and a hint of red.

“I said let me go!!” The Great One screamed. His eyes glowed brightly as he shot a glare at Frostbite and bared his teeth, which as previously stated, were small and not very threatening. Frostbite noticed SwiftIce out of the corner of his eyes admitting the sedatives to the IV. The young one would be calmer soon, but he needed to breathe.

Frostbite took one of the halfa’s hands and placed it against his chest, ignoring the tugs and noises of protest.”Listen. In…”

The chief took in a deep breath.

“Out…” He exhaled. He took in another breath, and when he began taking in his third, the halfa had started to copy him. It was a struggle at first. His first breath was shaky and hitched, and he exhaled a little too quickly, desperate for the next one.

Frostbite continued and watched as the Great One’s breathing slowly evened out and became deeper. It seemed he was coming out of the panic attack as he took one without suddenly gasped for air or shaking. Once the sedatives he was given kicked in, the bright glow in his eyes and veins died down. The strength in his tugging slowly became less and less intense until he stopped fighting all together.

His shoulders slumped and he started leaning back against the pillow and bed frame, his eyes only barely glowing now and starting to look tired. Once Frostbite was sure he was calm enough, he spoke again.”Can you hear me?” He asked, just to be extra sure.

His patient nodded.

“I’m going to let go, but I need you to stop trying to remove your IV. If you can’t, we will have to strap you down for your own safety.” Frostbite said. He spoke sternly, putting a heavy emphasis on the “stop”, but not without understanding.“I understand that you’re scared, and I will explain everything as long as you don’t try to remove anything, fight, or run, okay?” Frostbite said.

The halfa nodded again.

Frostbite slowly released his grip on the Great One’s wrist and stepped back to give him a little space. The Great One didn’t reach for the IV again. Instead, he held both hands close to himself. He held the hand Frostbite had pressed against his chest. Frostbite hoped he hadn’t accidentally hurt him. He was sure he was gentle enough.

“My name is Frostbite. You are at the hospital in my village. You were brought here after you were found unconscious and bleeding into the snow at the edge of our borders.” He explained.

The young halfa stared at him blankly for a moment, likely processing what he heard. His eyes soon shifted away from Frostbite to look around the room. They landed on the IV next to him for a moment before he looked back to Frostbite.

“What did you give me?” He asked. His voice was much quieter than before, and Frostbite was sure that if it wasn’t for the meds, he’d be either snappy or still terrified.

“Diazepam, amrix, and gailen.” Frostbite responded.

The halfa raised an eyebrow and made a funny face in confusion.“Gailen??” He questioned. He almost didn’t finish the word before opening his mouth wider and yawning. Frostbite could barely see any fangs and wondered if he even had any.

The chief nodded.“It helps soothe your core and prevent it from buzzing too much.” He explained.

His patient didn’t quite look like he was paying attention as he sunk further against the bed, but his eyes still looked focused. Well, as focused as they could be. He stared at Frostbite for a while, which was to be expected, and he smiled at the young halfa.”I understand if you don’t trust me, but please know that we aren’t your enemies. If we wanted to hurt you, we’d have done it by now.” Frostbite said.

His patient slowly blinked. He opened his mouth, but only the strange noises came out again and it was quiet.“What was that?” Frostbite asked. He leaned closer.

“Where...?” The halfa muttered. His eyes fluttered closed, but after a short while, they opened again. Just barely, though.

“You’re in the Far Frozen.” Frostbite responded. The Great One’s eyes drifted shut again, but the chief continued.”You’ll likely still be healing when you wake up, but don’t worry, we have our best doctors and nurses helping you.” He said. The only response he got was the machines monitoring his patient’s heartbeat and core vibrations slowing down.

Frostbite soon sat down and took a moment to think about what had just happened. In hindsight, he should’ve expected some form of surprise or wariness when the Great One woke up. He’d been unconscious when he was found, so he didn’t know that he was brought to a hospital. They’ve never met, either, and there were just as many bad ghosts as there were good.

A full on panic attack, however, was not something Frostbite would have expected even if he realized the chances of the halfa reacting negatively to the new environment sooner. Not only that, but hearing his voice made Frostbite realize something that was frankly terrifying.

It was clear that his core wasn’t fully matured yet, so he was a child by ghost standards, but Frostbite had hoped that he was at least an adult by human standards. Despite never having met a human before, Frostbite thought that he looked rather young. Then again, some adults look young. He held onto these assumptions because surely, a child didn’t attempt to fight Pariah Dark and win, right?

However, after what just happened and hearing his voice, a sense of horror was creeping its way into the chief’s mind. It was almost certain that the Great One was indeed a child.

The next time the Great One awoke, he didn’t freak out as much as last time, however he was startled about Frostbite as he woke up with his bandages being changed and yanked his arm away. After staring at Frostbite for a short while, he held his arm back out to let him finish. He winced a little during the process, but other than that, he had good self control.

“You said your name is Frostbite, right?” The young halfa asked. His core buzzed anxiously as he stared at the bigger ghost.

Frostbite was nearly done with the bandages and didn’t look up from his current task.“Yes. May I know yours?” He asked calmly. This time, he was more mentally prepared to talk to the halfa.

When he finished, the Great One held his arm and looked at the bandages. He turned his arm as if inspecting them before he turned to Frostbite.”Danny.” He responded.“Thanks for the help, but I need to go.” He said. He began to move around in the bed that was too big for him to try to swing his legs over the edge, but realized that the bed was bigger than he thought and resorted to trying to stand up.

“What? But you’re not properly healed yet!” Frostbite exclaimed. He lifted a paw to try to lightly push Danny back down. The halfa nearly fell over fairly easily and exclaimed something in human speak, but he grabbed onto Frostbite’s paw and began trying to squirm his way out from underneath.

“Hey, let go! I seriously need to head back home before something happens!” He said. He was able to escape fairly easily on account of his size and Frostbite’s loose grip. He flew up a little too fast and hit his head on the ceiling. He let out a noise of pain and looked down at Frostbite.“Wait, how long have I been here?” He asked.

The chief raised a paw up to try to gently grab the halfa. Unlike most ghosts, Frostbite’s people were surprisingly incapable of flight after spending so much time on the ground.“About a week, but you must--”

Frostbite was cut off by Danny letting out a noise of surprise in Human Speak.“Thank you so much for helping me, but I really need to find my way home! ‘Kay, thanks, bye!” He said quickly. Before Frostbite could say anything, he was gone.

Reunion

The day had gone by as usual. Work got done and things were running smoothly, and there was still no sign of the Great One. It had been two weeks since Frostbite saw him, since anyone saw him, and the chief was wondering if he was alright. He had no doubts that the Great One was powerful. He had defeated Pariah Dark, for Ancients’ sake!

Yet every time Frostbite thought back to their conversations, for lack of a better word, he couldn’t help but worry. The fact that the Great One was so young left him with a heavy weight in his core. Where were his parents? Where were his mentors? Why didn’t they help?

Frostbite stood at the edge of of one the islands and looked out towards the distant parts of the ghost zone. The entire sky, including the pieces that stretched below the islands, had almost turned dark. The last few ships between other nearby floating islands were just now landing and unloading their passengers. Soon, Frostbite would need to return home.

He continued to watch the sky grow dimmer for a while before he noticed something in the dark green. He squinted his eyes and leaned forward a little. It looked like a ship. As it came closer, he realized it didn’t look like one of his own. Not only that, but there was something smaller flying beside it.

The thing beside the ship picked up in speed and started heading right for Frostbite. The chief growled and readied himself for a fight. Why weren’t the defenses up? Where was everyone? If their ships were already turned off, he’d need to handle this threat by himself for a while. That won’t be a problem, though. The ship and the thing next to it were small. He could--

The thing next to the ship stretched an arm out and waved. The white glove contrasted against the black sleeves, and the green eyes that the chief could see more clearly now looked more lively than last he saw them. The half-ghost picked up in speed and flew a little lower, possibly coming in for a landing.

Frostbite’s shoulders relaxed as a smile began to stretch across his maw. The Great One was back!

The Great One landed a distance away from Frostbite and waved the ship down to land next to him. Once it was down, he looked over his shoulder and directly at Frostbite.

The chief began making his way over to the young halfa. He wanted to say many things. He wanted to greet him, he wanted to ask where he went, he wanted to ask why he’d returned, but all that came out was a worried “Are you alright?”.

The Great One smiled. It looked a little strange without a longer maw, but he couldn’t help that and shouldn’t be judged for it.”Yeah, I’m alright. The injuries healed a while ago.” He replied. It was almost strange seeing how calm he is now. Before, he seemed absolutely terrified, but now, he seems more confident. Perhaps it’s the fact that he wasn’t alone, or maybe it’s the simple change in scenery. He turned to the ship and called out to whoever was inside. A few seconds later, a small door opened and two humans stepped out.

They were both wearing large coats and pants lined with white fur. One of them shivered and hugged themselves, then said something to Danny. The Great One spoke back and all their gazes were directed to Frostbite.“This is Sam and Tucker. They’re my best friends and wanted to come with me to say thank you!” The Great One said.

One of the humans waved their hand, which was covered in a glove thicker than Danny’s. Frostbite knelt down to be more at eye level and extended both hands.“It is an honor to meet you both!” He said.

Danny turned to them and spoke in the human language. He most likely translated what he said to his friends, who took both hands and shook them.

Well, it was more like they placed a hand against his palm. Their hands were significantly smaller than his own and he had to be careful not to crush them. Frostbite turned to Danny.

“I’m honored that you have returned to thank us. It was no trouble at all helping you. It’s getting dark, so I insist you stay the night before returning home.” Frostbite said.

The Great One looked surprised.”Uh-- Sorry, but no. Not this time. We have to head home soon or people will start to notice we’re gone. I just really wanted to say thanks for all the help and ask why.” He said. Frostbite’s eyes widened a little. One of the humans, one with black hair and purple eyes, held his paw as if interested in his claws. The chief paid little attention to this.

“Why? Why wouldn’t we? Great One, you defeated the ghost king! You prevented him from rising up again! The entire ghost zone should be in your debt for what you’ve done for us. Helping you recover was the very least we could do.” He said.

The Great One stammered, then let out a small laugh.”Great One? I-I mean, I did put that guy back in the box, yeah, but I doubt I’m all that great.” He said.

The human holding Frostbite’s paw turned to the halfa and asked him something, to which he replied with a shrug and a string of noises. Suddenly, there was a blaring noise coming from the ship. The third human rushed inside to investigate. He poked his head out moments later and shouted something.

Danny turned to Frostbite.”Sorry to cut it short, but Tucker says that the ship is already starting to freeze. It’s not meant for cold temperatures.” He said. The other human rushed inside.

As disappointed the chief was by this news, he knew it couldn’t be helped. He could offer to bring the ship to the engineers and they could improve its tolerance to the cold, but the humans would need a warm place to stay. Plus, it wasn’t hard to tell that Danny was eager to return home, although it seemed more that he was worried about something than disliking the Far Frozen.

Frostbite put on a smile.“Very well, but know this; If you are ever in need of assistance or are feeling unwell, you are welcome in the Far Frozen any time. You and your friends.” He promised.

The ship hovered up into the air. Danny jumped off the ground and flew up into the air.”I’ll… remember that. Thanks again for the help. See you again sometime?” He said. The ship circled around and flew off the way it came.

“Of course. Safe travels, Great One!” Frostbite said.

“You can just call me Danny!” The Great One called out as he rushed to catch up.

[cei1ne]

—Reaction of the Bakusquad as your husbands to you feeling insecure of your body after giving birth!

*✫⃟⃟♾︎ೄྀSummary:

You’re feeling insecure because your body changed after your pregnancy and your husband clearly don’t like that.

ೃ࿔₊•Pairing:

Bakugou Katsuki ; Kirishima Eijirou ; Denki Kaminari ; Sero Hanta

☽*˚⁺‧͙Tags:

Cute, fluff, married life, supportive husbands, insecure wife’s

♡⑅*˖•A/N:

I was feeling sad and I’m sorry if this is a little sloppy it’s kinda almost 5am and I’m still awake and anyways supportive men as they should ‘cause ain’t no way a man leaving a woman after a woman’s body changes after birth xx. And guys I’m so surprised how that one reaction of the prank went so viral! Thank you so much!

✧○ꊞ○ꊞ○•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙○♡๑••๑♡

❥| Bakugou Katsuki

The bedroom was quiet except for the soft hum of the air conditioner. You sat on the bed, staring at your reflection in the mirror across the room. Your hands absently traced over the stretch marks on your stomach. The changes to your body after giving birth were something you had tried to accept, but nights like this made it harder.

The sound of the front door slamming jolted you from your thoughts. “I’m home,” Bakugou called, his voice rough as usual. You heard the rustling of his gear as he dropped it by the entryway.

He found you moments later, his sharp eyes immediately narrowing when he saw your slumped shoulders and distant expression. “Oi. What’s with the long face?” he asked, kicking off his boots as he approached.

“It’s nothing,” you muttered, pulling the blanket over your lap.

“Bullshit,” he shot back, crossing the room in a few strides. He sat on the edge of the bed, leaning forward to peer into your face. “Spit it out.”

You sighed, your fingers twisting in the fabric of the blanket. “I just… don’t feel like myself anymore. My body’s changed so much since the baby. I feel like I’m not… enough for you.”

His crimson eyes darkened, his jaw tightening as he processed your words. “Tch. That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard,” he said, his voice low but firm.

You looked away, embarrassed. “Katsuki, look at you. You’re a pro hero—strong, perfect, and…”

“Stop,” he growled, cutting you off. His hands cupped your face, forcing you to meet his gaze. “You think this crap matters to me? You think I give a damn about some marks or a little softness?”

Before you could respond, he shifted, kneeling in front of you. His hands slid to your waist, his lips brushing over the stretch marks on your stomach. “These aren’t flaws,” he muttered against your skin. “They’re proof of what you’ve done. You carried our kid. You gave me a family. You think anyone else could’ve done that for me?”

Tears pricked your eyes as he straightened, his hands firm but gentle on your hips. “You’re mine. Always will be. And if I hear you talk like that about yourself again, I’ll remind you just how perfect you are. Got it?”

His words left you speechless, but the tenderness in his eyes spoke louder than anything. You nodded, and he pulled you into his arms, holding you close. “Good,” he murmured. “Now let’s go to bed. You’ve got nothing to worry about.

☾| Kirishima Eijirou

Kirishima found you in the nursery, standing by the crib with a folded onesie in your hands. You stared at the tiny garment, your shoulders tense. He paused in the doorway, observing you for a moment before stepping inside.

“Hey, babe,” he said softly, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind. He rested his chin on your shoulder, swaying with you gently. “What’s on your mind?”

You sighed, leaning into his warmth. “I’ve just been thinking… My body’s changed so much since the baby. I don’t feel like myself anymore.”

He frowned, turning you to face him. “What do you mean?”

You hesitated, looking down. “I just… I look at you, and you’re so strong, so perfect. You’re a hero, Eijirou. And I’m… not.”

His hands tightened on your waist, his expression a mix of concern and disbelief. “Not perfect? Babe, are you kidding me?”

Your eyes watered as you whispered, “I feel like I’m not enough for you anymore.”

“Hey, stop that,” he said, his voice gentle but firm. He crouched slightly, meeting your gaze head-on. “You’re more than enough. You’re everything to me.”

When you didn’t respond, he stepped closer, his hands sliding to your sides. “These changes you’re talking about? They’re not flaws. They’re proof of how incredible you are. You gave us a family, babe. You carried our baby. That’s the strongest thing anyone could ever do.”

Tears spilled down your cheeks as he pulled you into a tight hug. “You’re beautiful, inside and out. And don’t think for a second that I’d want anything else. You’re stuck with me, gorgeous,” he said with a soft laugh, kissing the top of your head.

He held you like that for a while, his warmth and sincerity wrapping around you like a safety net. Finally, he pulled back, his grin as bright as ever. “Now, come on. Let’s go cuddle on the couch. You’ve had a long day.”

☆| Denki Kaminari

The living room lights were dim, and the soft hum of the television filled the quiet air. You sat on the couch, knees pulled up to your chest as you stared blankly at the screen. You weren’t watching, though. Your thoughts were elsewhere—on the reflection you’d seen in the mirror earlier, on how your body had changed since the baby.

Denki’s familiar footsteps broke through your haze, and you barely looked up as he entered the room, still in his hero gear, his blond hair slightly mussed. He paused, his bright, mischievous energy dimming when he saw your slumped shoulders and the sadness in your eyes.

“Hey, babe,” he said, sitting beside you. His tone was softer than usual, full of concern. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” you mumbled, shifting to make yourself smaller.

“Don’t ‘nothing’ me,” he teased gently, leaning closer. His hand found yours, giving it a little squeeze. “You’re not yourself. Tell me what’s up.”

You hesitated, but the warmth in his gaze broke down your walls. “I just… I don’t feel like me anymore,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “My body’s changed so much since the baby, and it’s like… I’m not good enough for you.”

Denki blinked, completely thrown. “What? Not good enough for me? Are you serious right now?”

You nodded, tears welling up. “Look at you, Denki. You’re this handsome, confident hero. You’re everything a woman could dream of. And me? I’m just…” You trailed off, unable to finish.

Denki was quiet for a moment, then he shifted closer, gently cupping your face. “Okay, first of all, don’t ever say that again. Second, you’re wrong.”

Before you could argue, he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead. Then another to your cheek, then the other. His lips moved to your jaw, and he murmured, “You’re everything to me, babe. Every mark, every curve, every change—you’re perfect.”

He shifted, tugging your sweater up slightly, exposing your stomach. “These stretch marks?” He kissed one, then another, trailing his lips across your skin. “They’re proof of how strong you are. You gave us a baby. You gave me a family.”

Tears spilled over as his lips moved down to your hip, then back up to your ribs, peppering your body with soft, reverent kisses. “And this softness?” he continued, his voice low but warm. “I love it. It’s part of you, and I love every part of you.”

You tried to cover your face, overwhelmed, but he caught your hands, pressing kisses to your knuckles. “Don’t hide from me, babe. I want all of you, every bit.”

He grinned, shifting so he could look into your eyes. “You’re stuck with me, okay? And I’m the lucky one here, not the other way around.”

His words and actions left you speechless, your heart swelling with warmth and love. When he pulled you into his arms, pressing one final kiss to the top of your head, you finally felt like you could breathe again.

✿| Hanta Sero

Sero walked into the bedroom and found you sitting on the floor by the bed, sorting through old photos. You barely noticed him until he crouched beside you, his expression concerned.

“Hey, love. What’s up?” he asked, nudging your shoulder gently.

You sighed, setting down a picture of yourself from years ago. “Just looking at old photos. I used to look… better.”

His brow furrowed. “What are you talking about? You’re stunning now.”

You shook your head. “Not really. My body’s changed so much since the baby. I feel… different. Like I’m not enough for you anymore.”

Sero leaned back slightly, genuinely shocked. “Not enough? Are you serious?”

You nodded, tears pooling in your eyes. “You’re this amazing hero, Hanta. You’re fit, confident, everything anyone could want. And I’m just…”

“You’re my world,” he interrupted, his voice soft but certain. He reached out, brushing his fingers along your jaw. “These marks, this softness—they’re part of our story. They’re part of you. And I love every bit of it.”

He sat beside you, pulling you into his lap. “You’ve always been enough, love. You’re my everything. Don’t ever forget that.”

Part 2 with Dekusquad?

[yumiyue07]

Bumping into Christmas Magic ✨

｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆｡･:*:･ﾟ’★

Ship: Chris x fem!reader Genre: Romance, festive fluff, Christmas miracles Warnings: Brief moments of self-doubt, overwhelming Christmas cheer, and an unforgettable...discover it yourself ;) Word Count: 9.9k

This story is written for the Stayblr Writing Challenge, and finally I'm able to share it...just in time for the deadline! 😅

The original version was 19k words, but I had to trim it down to meet the competition requirements. As a result, some parts may feel a bit 'bumpy,' so please bear with me .

Inspired by Stray Kids’ “Christmas Love,” this magical tale is about fate, festive surprises, and the kind of love that feels like a Christmas miracle. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

@stayblrofficial ｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆｡･:*:･ﾟ’★

Somehow, you’d lost track of the others. One moment, they were beside you; the next, they’d disappeared into the bustling crowd. You couldn’t really blame them—you’d been completely captivated by a stall filled with hand-painted Christmas baubles.

The display was enchanting, with delicate ornaments in every color, their intricate patterns catching the glow of nearby fairy lights. You decided you’d come back for it after exploring more of the market.

As you walked away, you rummaged through your handbag. You’d meant to check your phone—maybe send a quick text to find your colleagues—but in your search, you paid no attention to where you were going.

Suddenly, you collided with something solid. The impact jarred you, and you stumbled back a step as the sound of rustling bags and clattering objects broke through the market’s cheerful hum.

A young man stood in front of you, blinking in mild surprise as he stared at the scattered shopping bags at his feet.

“Oh, no, I’m so sorry about that. I wasn’t paying attention,” you said sheepishly, stepping forward to help.

The young man looked up, his expression shifting from surprise to amusement. He was strikingly handsome, his soft eyes catching yours with a mix of warmth and curiosity. His dark hair was slightly tousled, and a thick scarf was snugly wrapped around his neck.

“Don’t worry,” he said with a small laugh, brushing off the incident. “I was distracted, too.”

You bent down to help him gather his bags, brushing the snow off one.

“Quite a lot of bags you’re carrying around,” you said with a playful smile.

“Yeah, I think I might’ve gotten a bit… overambitious,” he admitted with an embarrassed chuckle. “And  I’m new in town, so navigating all this is a little overwhelming.”

“Well, if you need a guide—or just an extra pair of hands—I owe you one for crashing into you,” you offered with a grin. “You’re practically a walking Christmas tree.”

He laughed then—a bright, infectious laugh that made your chest feel unexpectedly warm. “If you really don’t mind, I’d appreciate the help. At this rate, I’ll be wandering around until midnight.” Shifting his bags, he held out his hand. “By the way, I’m Chris.”

“Nice to meet you, Chris,” you said, taking his hand for a brief shake. “I’m Y/N. And yes, I’d be happy to help.”

He smiled again, the kind of smile that felt like it could melt through the snow. “Nice to meet you too, Y/N. Are you here alone?”

“Well, not exactly,” you said, taking a few of the bags from him to lighten his load. “I came here with my colleagues, but I got a little distracted. By the time I looked up, they were gone. I was just about to check my phone when—”

“When you ran into me,” he finished, grinning.

“Exactly.” You couldn’t help but smile back.

You walked side by side, the crunch of snow underfoot blending with the festive buzz of the Christmas market.

“Are you sure you don’t want to rejoin your colleagues?” he asked, glancing at you. “You don’t have to stick with me.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. They’ll be fine without me,” you said with a wave of your hand. “They were heading home soon anyway. Christmas markets aren’t really their thing.” You smiled brightly. “But I love everything about Christmas.”

He chuckled softly, his gaze lingering on you. “I can tell. You’re practically glowing. It suits you.”

A warm flush rose to your cheeks, and you smiled. “There’s just something magical about this season, isn’t there?”

“Definitely,” he said, his voice soft. He quickly looked away, his ears tinged with a hint of pink. You just looked so happy—it was impossible not to find it contagious.

“How long have you been in the city?” you asked after a moment.

“About two weeks now,” he replied. “I moved here for work. My team arrived last week, too.”

“Your team? Are you a sportsman? Or maybe a coach?” you guessed, glancing at his athletic build.

He laughed, shaking his head. “No, nothing like that. We’re an IT team—we handle data and building security. Our new assignment brought us here.”

“That sounds exciting. Does that mean you’re always on the move?” you asked.

“Pretty much,” he admitted with a small shrug. “Depending on the job, we relocate to be closer to the client’s office.”

“By ‘we,’ you mean your team, right?”

“Yes, exactly,” he said with a nod. “My team is like my family. We spend a lot of time together.”

“Let me guess—the presents are for your team?” you teased lightly.

He laughed, warm and bright. “Exactly. Christmas is coming soon, and I wanted to be early with gifts this year. Usually, I’m the guy scrambling at the last minute.”

“Oh, I know the feeling,” you said, grinning. “How many presents are you still missing?”

“Just one more,” he said, his voice tinged with pride.

“Hey, that’s great!” you said. “Do you already have an idea for it? If you do, we can head there now.”

“I was thinking of getting a scarf,” he explained. “One of my teammates is always losing his stuff. Having a backup scarf might actually save him this winter.”

“That’s so thoughtful of you,” you said, genuinely impressed. “I saw a stall selling scarves back that way.” You pointed toward a row of twinkling booths in the distance. “Let’s check it out.”

“Sure thing, Miss Tour Guide,” he said, chuckling.

You couldn’t help but laugh at the nickname. “Hmm, how about I give you a proper tour of the city sometime? You know, if you want—and if you have time.”

“Sounds like a plan,” he replied, his grin widening. “I’ve looked up a few spots. With you as my guide, though, I’d say my chances of enjoying it just got a whole lot better.”

His mischievous smile made your heart skip a beat, and you found yourself grinning back.

What’s wrong with me? You thought, trying to focus on something else. It had been a while since anyone had made you feel this way—this sudden, fluttering warmth that seemed to curl up and settle in your chest.

You stole a glance at him as you walked side by side. He was taller than you, with broad shoulders and a confident, easy stride. His long coat, scarf, and gloves gave him an effortlessly elegant look, every piece carefully coordinated. Maybe he’d come straight from work to the market. Whatever the case, the polished air about him only added to the growing sense of attraction you felt.

“Here we are,” you said, gesturing to the stall. “Take your time to look through the selection.”

After a few minutes, you asked, “Did you find something for your friend?” noticing the scarf in his hand.

“Yep. This one’s simple, nothing too fancy—he’ll like it.”

“That’s great!” you said with a smile. “So, you’ve officially finished your gift shopping.”

“I have,” he said, his grin widening. “Let me pay for this quickly. Be right back.”

You watched as he walked to the booth owner, chatting briefly as he handed over the scarf. A small pang settled in your chest. With his shopping done, this might be the moment you’d have to part ways. The thought felt strangely disappointing—is it weird that I don’t want this to end yet?

When he returned, his voice softened. “Thanks again for your help—I really appreciate it.”

“Of course!” you replied, your voice softening. “I guess my mission’s complete now, huh?”

“Yeah,” he said, hesitating. “Unless… do you mind showing me around the market a bit more?”

Your heart lifted. “I’d love to! How about we grab something to eat first? It smells amazing here.”

“Great idea. After all this shopping, I need to recharge. Hmm, it smells like chestnuts,” he said, glancing toward the inviting aroma.

“That’s right. There’s a booth over there selling them. Let’s start with that,” you suggested.

As you shared the steaming chestnuts, the conversation naturally turned to work. You told him about your job as a journalist, covering everything from local stories to larger features.

“Maybe I could interview you and your team sometime,” you teased. “A story about the latest trends in IT security?”

He chuckled, a playful glint in his eye. “Why not? It’s a pretty important topic. Could even get us some new clients,” he said with a wink.

From what he’d shared, his team didn’t need help attracting attention. Renowned as one of the best in the industry, they were doing just fine. Still, the thought made him smile—any excuse to talk to you again.

Walking through the bustling market, conversation flowed so effortlessly it felt as if you’d known each other for years instead of mere hours.

Eventually, you circled back to the booth where you’d first collided. Your eyes lit up at the display of handmade ornaments and painted Christmas baubles, just as they had earlier.

“They’re so beautiful,” you murmured, leaning in to admire them. You reached for one, hesitating, then moved to another, clearly torn. “I don’t know which one to choose. They’re all so lovely!”

Chris watched you with a soft smile. The way your childlike joy illuminated your face, the way your eyes sparkled—it left him captivated.

“They are beautiful,” he said quietly, though his gaze never left you.

You turned to him, startled by the softness in his tone. His eyes met yours, warm and intent, and a blush crept up your cheeks. Feeling suddenly shy, you looked away, pretending to study the ornaments again.

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “You really do make this season feel magical, you know,” he said, almost to himself.

Just as you were about to ask his opinion on the ornaments, a voice called your name.

“Y/N, there you are!” one of your female colleagues exclaimed, hurrying toward you. “We lost you in the middle of everything, and you didn’t respond to our messages or calls. We started to get worried!”

“Oh no, I’m so sorry,” you said, flustered. “I got so caught up looking around the booths that I forgot to check my phone.”

“Typical you,” she teased, shaking her head. “You always get lost in things you love.”

Chris couldn’t help but smile at this description, imagining you wandering through the market, mesmerized by its magic. It suited you perfectly.

“Are you coming with us now?” your colleague asked, glancing back. “Our boss showed up unexpectedly.” Startled, you nodded. “Uh, yeah. I’ll be right there.”

Turning back to Chris, you handed him the shopping bags. “Looks like our tour ends here,” you said regretfully. “Sorry to leave so suddenly, but I can’t exactly ignore my boss.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Chris said with an understanding smile. “I understand. Thanks for everything. Have a great evening.”

“It was fun,” you said, your voice tinged with reluctance. “Have a nice evening, too.”

“Maybe I’ll see you again?” he said, his gaze softening.

“Maybe,” you said shyly, a small smile tugging at your lips.

You waved and hurried off, your heart sinking a little. “Why didn’t I ask for his number?” you thought. The city felt too big for chance encounters. “But if he wanted to, he could have asked, too…”

Behind you, Chris waved back, his hand lingering in the air even after you’d disappeared into the crowd. His eyes stayed on you, a wistful smile on his face. “She’s so cute,” he thought, the warmth of the evening still coursing through him. “Almost like a fairy.”

As he turned back toward the ornament display, his gaze fell on one you had admired—a delicate bauble painted with a soft, shimmering winter scene. His smile widened.

~~~

The next day, back at your desk, you tried focusing on your research for an upcoming article, but your thoughts kept drifting to Chris. The warmth and ease you’d felt with him lingered, making it hard to concentrate.

Eventually, curiosity got the better of you, and you found yourself searching for the company he’d mentioned.

It didn’t take long to uncover something surprising: Chris wasn’t just an employee—he owned the company.

Vanguard Solutions was the name, accompanied by the tagline, "Securing your tomorrow, today." Despite its modest size of around 30 employees, the firm had an impeccable reputation, specializing in cutting-edge IT and cybersecurity. Their services ranged from state-of-the-art data protection to creating secure digital infrastructures for smart buildings. Their impressive client list included governments and Fortune 500 companies.

Scrolling further, you found his professional photo. Chris looked sharp in a tailored suit, exuding the same confidence and warmth you’d seen the night before. Beneath his photo was one of his core team—the “family” he’d mentioned. Their stylish appearances made them look more like a boy band than an IT team, and you couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought. You briefly imagined teasing him about moonlighting as a performer.

You were pulled out of your thoughts when your colleague and friend, Mariko, called your name.

“Hey, Y/N, how’s your research going? Found anything interesting?” she asked, her tone light but her sharp eyes glinting with curiosity.

Mariko had a knack for reading people, making her both comforting and slightly terrifying to work with. You’d joined the journal at the same time, and your shared interests quickly turned you into fast friends. She was the type to laugh over coffee one minute and dive into meticulous details the next when it came to work. A gentle, easygoing vibe—until it was time to dig deep.

“Hi, Mariko,” you said, trying to sound casual. “Yeah, it’s going well—a lot of stuff to read through.”

Her eyebrows lifted ever so slightly, a sign she wasn’t buying it. In one swift motion, she leaned over your desk and glanced at your screen.

“Aha! So that’s the ‘research’ you’re doing. Looking up boy groups? What’s next, fangirling over autographs?” She grinned mischievously.

You let out a surprised laugh. It wasn’t just you, then—Chris and his team did have the boy band aura.

“They’re not a boy group,” you stammered, cheeks warming. “This is an IT security company.”

Mariko leaned back, her grin widening. “Since when have you been interested in IT security? Or is it because of these handsome men?” She wiggled her eyebrows, delighting in your discomfort.

You hesitated, looking back at the screen as a shy smile crept onto your face. Should you tell her?

“Don’t tell me…” Mariko’s eyes widened, and she practically bounced in her seat. “You’ve met one of them here? Who is it? Spill the tea!” she demanded, sliding into the chair across from you.

Her sudden intensity caught you off guard, and you couldn’t help but laugh at her excitement.

“Well?” she pressed, breaking your momentary daze. “Are you going to tell me, or do I have to guess?”

You sighed, knowing there was no way out of this. “Fine, I’ll tell you.”

Mariko’s face lit up like your fairy lights, and she leaned forward eagerly. “Oh, this is going to be good. Start from the beginning!”

“Well,” you began, shifting in your seat, “yesterday, at the Christmas market—where you left me alone, by the way, because you had something better to do—I literally bumped into the CEO of this company.” You gestured at your screen. “His name is Chris.”

Mariko’s eyes widened with glee. “Ohoho, now that’s a coincidence. Of all people, you bump into him. What a perfect little meet-cute for a love story.”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, please.”

“And for the record,” Mariko added with a cheeky grin, “my boyfriend invited me to dinner. How could I say no to a cozy evening with him compared to freezing my butt off with the rest of you?”

“Lucky you,” you shot back, feigning annoyance.

Mariko leaned forward, her grin growing. “Soooo, did you talk to him? Or did you just knock him out cold with your thick skull?”

The two of you burst into laughter.

“Hey!” you protested, trying to sound offended. “Don’t be so mean! This beautiful head of mine carries a lot of knowledge, you know.”

Mariko raised a skeptical eyebrow, still smirking. “Okay, fine. So, did you talk to him?”

“Yes, we talked,” you admitted, folding your arms. “And spent some time together at the market. I even helped him with his Christmas shopping.”

Mariko’s teasing expression turned sly. “Helped him shop, huh? Or should I say, you found an excuse to hang out with him longer?”

Your cheeks warmed, and you couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at your lips. The truth was, part of you had wanted to spend more time with him. There was an undeniable pull, an attraction you hadn’t felt in ages.

“Anyway,” you said, trying to brush it off, “I helped him carry his bags as an apology for bumping into him.”

Mariko wasn’t letting you off the hook so easily. “Uh-huh. Sure. Let’s call it that,” she teased, resting her chin in her hands. “So, what’s he like? Are you going to see him again?”

“He’s really nice,” you said softly. “A great conversation partner. He knows so much about everything. We just... clicked, you know? It felt like talking to an old friend. And, well,” you hesitated, feeling heat rush to your face, “he’s tall, handsome, and really charming.”

Mariko started giggling, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Does someone have a crush on a certain CEO?”

“What? No!” you exclaimed, your voice a little too high-pitched. “I don’t have a crush on anybody! I’m just saying he’s nice and easy to talk to, that’s all.” You stared intently at your screen, pretending to be deeply engrossed in your “research.”

Mariko wasn’t fooled for a second. “Uh huh, just a good conversation partner, huh? Sure, Y/N. Tell me when you’re ready to stop being in denial, okay?”

You groaned, knowing she wasn’t going to drop it.

“And,” she added, leaning back with a knowing smirk, “let me guess—you didn’t make any plans to meet him again, did you?”

You bit your lip, unwilling to admit the truth.

“That’s what I thought.” Mariko mimicked air quotes as she said, “‘No plans for another meeting.’ Don’t worry, though. When you finally admit that you like this guy, I’ll help you figure out how to see him again.”

“Mariko!” you whined, burying your face in your hands.

She just laughed, clearly enjoying your flustered reaction.

You gave up and laid your head on your arms on the table, whining. “No, I'm so stupid. I didn't dare. Our parting was too quick. Madeleine called me and interrupted us. I think she didn't even realize I was there with Chris, which is better like that, or she would have made a fuss out of it in front of our boss.”

Speaking of which, Jeff entered your office. You instantly sat up straight at the sound of his voice and looked at him.

“Good morning, ladies,” Jeff said, surveying the two of you. “How’s everything going? I need one of you to cover the story about data brokers as soon as possible. It’s going to be a centerpiece article, so I want deep reporting. Who’s going to work on it?” He looked between the two of you, ignoring your previous act.

Mariko, ever the diligent reporter, raised her hand. “Morning, Jeff. I’ll take it.” You didn’t mind since you were working on another story.

“Good, thanks. We should have a rough story outline by Monday. Can you manage that?” he asked.

“Yes, sir,” Mariko answered in military salute style, making you smile. Even Jeff couldn’t keep a straight face. He smiled and said, “You two are going to drive me crazy one day.” He gave a half-exasperated, half-amused shake of his head. “Anyway, carry on with your... work—or whatever you were doing,” he added, gesturing vaguely in your direction as he tried to figure out what exactly you’d been up to.

You fought the urge to laugh and nodded solemnly. Mariko simply grinned as Jeff left the room, closing the door behind him. Once Jeff was out of earshot, she leaned back and said, “Data brokers, huh? That’s a hot topic. Looks like I’ll be diving into the shady underworld of personal data for the next few days.”

An idea sparked in your mind. You glanced at your screen, where Chris’s photo lingered. “What if I interviewed Chris or his team? His company specializes in cybersecurity, and they probably know all about the consequences of data breaches or unethical data use.”

Mariko smirked knowingly. “Oh, now that is a brilliant idea. And not at all an excuse to see Mr. Tall and Handsome again, right?”

You blushed, avoiding her gaze. “I’m serious, Mariko. This could add real depth to the article.”

“Of course,” she teased. “I mean, why waste a perfectly good journalistic opportunity? Go for it, Y/N. You’re technically helping with this story, so Jeff might even approve. And hey, if it happens to give you a chance to ‘bump into’ him again, who am I to judge?”

You couldn’t help but smile. “We’ll see,” you said, trying to sound casual but already imagining how the conversation might go.

~~~

On Saturday, you had planned to go to the open-air skating rink set up in the city’s main square with Mariko. But at the last minute, she canceled due to an unexpected visit from her aunt. When you arrived, the rink was buzzing with activity. Fairy lights were strung up all around, casting a warm glow on the sparkling ice.

After renting skates, you headed to a nearby bench to lace them up. You carefully slipped on the first skate and began lacing the second when a familiar voice interrupted your focus.

“Are you following me?”

You looked up, startled, to see Chris standing in front of you, a playful grin on his face. Dressed warmly with skates slung over his shoulder, he seemed as surprised as you. After all your second-guessing since the Christmas market, here he was.

“Who's following who?” you finally managed to say, your voice teasing.

“I have to say, I’m happy to see you again,” he said warmly, sitting beside you and placing his skates down.

You felt your heart skip a beat at how he smiled at you. “Same here,” you replied a little sheepishly. You glanced around nervously before asking, “Are you here alone?” Part of you almost braced for the possibility of his girlfriend suddenly appearing by his side.

“Yes,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. Then, his face lit up with a smile. “Well, I was here alone,” he added. “Unless you’ve got something against some company—or you’re here with someone?” His gaze softened, hopeful.

“Oh! No!” you blurted out a little too eagerly. Chris’s grin widened, and you quickly corrected yourself. “I mean, no, I got stood up, unfortunately. My friend Mariko canceled at the last minute. Looks like it was a good idea after all.” You chanced a glance at him before looking away, your nerves threatening to overwhelm you.

“Yes, it was,” he replied, his smile growing warmer. “Actually, I was supposed to have a client show me around, but they canceled at the last minute, too. So, I decided to explore and somehow ended up here.”

“Ended up here? Does that mean you actually got lost?” you teased, your confidence returning.

“Maybe…” he admitted with a grin. “Let me just get these skates on, and we can hit the ice together.”

“Sure,” you said, though inside, your nerves began to churn. Ice skating with Mariko would have been one thing—stumbling and laughing at your mutual clumsiness—but this was different. “I’m ready. Let’s go,” he said after lacing up his skates with practiced ease. He stood up with an effortless grace that left you momentarily breathless.

Stepping onto the ice, he glided effortlessly, circling the rink before returning to you where you stood at the edge, gripping the railing for dear life.

“All good?” he asked, his voice warm with amusement.

“Well, I, uh…” you stammered, hesitating.

“Don’t tell me you can’t skate,” he said, his lips curving into a teasing smile.

You swallowed hard and admitted, “Ehm, I’m… at the beginner stage.”

Chris laughed—a rich, beautiful laugh that sent your heart soaring and your confidence tumbling.

“Come on, let me help you,” he said, extending his hand toward you. His steady grip and reassuring smile melted some of your nerves as you placed your hand in his. A comforting sense of security washed over you. How could someone you barely knew make you feel so safe?

“Don’t worry,” he said softly. “We’ll go slow. I’ve got you.”

“Yes, because you’re holding me,” you replied with a nervous chuckle.

He grinned mischievously. “Should I let go?”

“Oh, please don’t! At least not in the middle of the rink,” you exclaimed, half-panicked.

“Don’t worry,” he said with a sincerity that made your heart skip a beat. “I won’t let go of you.”

His words were so earnest, and the way he looked at you so intensely, that your cheeks warmed as your pulse raced.

Suddenly, a group of kids zipped past, startling you. But before you could even process it, Chris’s hand shot out to steady you, his other hand resting lightly against your back. A warm feeling spread through you.

“Are you all right?” he asked, his eyes full of concern.

You nodded, flustered. “Yes, thank you. I just… wasn’t expecting them.”

He chuckled softly. “It’s okay. They’re like that—unpredictable. I’ve got you.”

But guilt began to creep in. “You know what,” you said hesitantly, “maybe it’s safer if I stick to the sidelines. That way, you can skate freely without worrying about me.”

He tilted his head, considering your suggestion. “I don’t mind skating with you,” he said earnestly. “But if you feel safer there, then I’ll take you.”

Grateful for his understanding, you both made your way slowly to the edge of the rink. “Better?” he asked as you grabbed onto the rail.

“Yep, much better,” you replied with a small smile. “How about this: you show me how it’s done properly?”

His lips curled into a teasing grin. “Your wish is my command.”

And with that, he pushed off, gliding effortlessly onto the ice.

He moved with effortless grace, weaving through the crowd like he belonged there. People couldn’t help but notice, including a group of girls who giggled and whispered as they watched him. A pang of jealousy flickered in you. Maybe he’d be better off skating with one of them—someone who wasn’t clinging to the sidelines.

The thought left you feeling self-conscious, and for a moment, you considered leaving. Just then, Chris skated toward you, his stride confident. “How about I teach you?” he offered warmly.

Your gaze flicked to a group of girls near the center of the rink, giggling and nudging each other. One stepped forward as if ready to approach, and a wave of insecurity swept over you.

Your chest tightened. “Thank you,” you said, forcing a polite smile. “But maybe it’s better if I leave. I think I’m too cold.” Gesturing toward the exit, you added, “Please, enjoy your time here. See you around.

Before he could respond, you wobbled toward the edge, determined to leave gracefully despite your shaky skates.

“Y/N, wait!” His voice rang out behind you, firm and insistent.

You hesitated, but his footsteps didn’t follow. A pang of disappointment settled in your chest as you glanced back—just as your skate caught an uneven patch of ice.

You felt the slip before you could process it. Arms flailed as gravity pulled you down, and your breath hitched as you felt the cold air rushing toward your face.

Except... the ice never came.

Instead, you found yourself enveloped in warmth. Strong arms wrapped around you, steadying you and pulling you close to his chest. Time seemed to stand still as your startled gaze met his. His face was mere inches from yours, his breath brushing softly against your cheeks. His eyes—those deep, mesmerizing eyes—held yours with an intensity that made your heart stutter.

“Y/N,” he murmured, his voice low and soft. “Careful. You almost hit your head.”

Your breath caught in your throat. The concern in his tone, the way he held you so protectively—it made the world around you blur, leaving only the two of you.

He helped you back to your feet with effortless grace, but his hands lingered, steadying you until he was sure you were secure.

“I can’t let you leave like this,” he said, his voice tinged with something more than concern. “Let me accompany you. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

You felt the heat rush to your cheeks as his words settled over you. There was no teasing in his tone, no trace of humor—just genuine care.

As he led you slowly off the ice, his hand rested lightly against the small of your back, a reassuring presence that made your heart race.

He guided you to the bench where you’d laced your skates earlier, his concern evident.

"Are you sure you're not hurt?" he asked softly, crouching slightly to meet your gaze.

You nodded quickly, staring at your feet. "Yes, I'm fine. Thank you for catching me before I could make a complete fool of myself on the ice," you murmured.

Chris leaned closer, his grin teasing yet gentle. "No need to thank me for that. How could I let you take a tumble with me right there? My super skating skills finally came in handy," he said, his tone light as he puffed up his chest dramatically, trying to lift your spirits.

You couldn't help it—you laughed.

“It’s still embarrassing,” you admitted, though your smile lingered.

Chris shrugged casually, his eyes twinkling. " More importantly…" His voice softened. "Why did you leave so suddenly?"

Caught off guard, you hesitated, the vulnerability in his tone making your heart clench. "Did I… did I upset you in some way?" he asked, his words tinged with hesitation.

Your head snapped up, meeting his worried gaze. "No! You didn’t do anything to upset me," you said quickly. "I… I just…"

You paused, unsure how much to reveal. But something about his sincerity, the way he sat patiently waiting for you to find the words, made you feel safe.

"I just felt a little out of place," you confessed. “You skate so beautifully, and everyone notices you. Then there’s me, wobbling like a baby deer.” You chuckled nervously, trying to make light of it. He didn’t laugh. Instead, his expression softened further. "I didn’t want to hold you back or be a nuisance. I’m sorry if I caused you any trouble." You looked down again, not wanting to see his reaction.

“Y/N, you’re not holding me back, and you’re definitely not a nuisance,” he said gently. “You’re wonderful company. Being here with you tonight has been the most fun I’ve had in weeks.”

You blinked, startled by his earnestness. When you met his gaze, the sincerity in his eyes made your heart skip a beat. "Really?" you whispered.

He smiled, that heart-stopping, genuine smile of his, and nodded. "Really."

You felt warmth flood your cheeks and looked away, suddenly shy. "I’m happy to hear that," you said, your voice faltering as you tried to keep your composure.

Chris leaned back slightly, his grin playful again. "How about we get a warm drink?" he suggested. "I think we’ve earned it after all this skating—or in your case, graceful gliding," he teased.

"Deal," you said, standing up carefully. He stood, too, offering his arm like a true gentleman. "Shall we?"

Once you’d both returned your skates, you wandered over to a stall glowing warmly with festive lights. The aroma of cinnamon, oranges, and mulled spices wafted through the crisp evening air. “This is one of my favorite scents in winter,” you said softly, inhaling deeply as you held your steaming cup of tea.

He nodded, his hot chocolate in hand. “Mine, too. It’s like the smell of Christmas itself.”

You nodded enthusiastically. “Exactly! It brings back so many memories. Every year, my parents used to bake cookies, and the house smelled amazing. My sister and I always ‘taste-tested’ the dough when no one was looking.”

He laughed warmly. “We did the same, except we’d swipe the finished cookies and rearrange the plate to hide it. My mom always knew, though.”

The two of you laughed, trading stories as the festive lights cast a cozy glow around you. The conversation flowed effortlessly between you, each story bringing you closer, weaving a tapestry of shared memories and holiday magic. Sitting under the glowing fairy lights, the evening felt like something out of a storybook.

Chris leaned back, as if about to say something, but his phone vibrated sharply, interrupting the moment. He glanced at the screen, sighing. “I’m sorry, it’s my office. I need to take this.” His expression was apologetic, almost reluctant.

“Of course,” you replied, hiding your disappointment. “Go ahead.”

A few minutes later, he returned, his expression regretful. “Y/N, I hate to cut this short, but something’s come up, and I have to head out.”

“That’s okay,” you said, forcing a bright smile despite the small pang in your chest. “Work calls.”

I’ve really enjoyed tonight,” he said, his gaze lingering on yours. “You made it memorable.”

You felt your cheeks heat up. “Me too. It’s been fun, even with my less-than-stellar skating skills.”

He chuckled, his warm laughter making your heart flutter. As if on cue, the rink’s lights dimmed slightly, signaling that it was closing for the evening.

“Well,” you said, standing, “if I see you again tomorrow, then I’ll start believing in Christmas magic.”

Chris’s lips curved into a soft smile, his eyes twinkling. “Christmas magic, huh? I’ll keep that in mind.”

Neither of you made a move to exchange numbers. Maybe it was the magic of the season or the hope of fate stepping in again.

“Take care, Y/N,” he said, warmly.

“You too, Chris,” you replied softly, watching as he walked away into the night.

~~~ On Monday, you and Mariko met with Jeff to present the outline for your article on data brokers.

“Jeff, one more thing,” you began casually. “Have you heard of Vanguard Solutions?”

“Yes, they’re a top IT and cybersecurity firm. What about them?”

“I know the CEO,” you said, pausing briefly. “I was thinking of reaching out for an interview. His perspective could really enhance our article. What do you think?”

“That would be incredible!” Jeff said, his interest piqued. “Do you really think he’ll agree to an interview? Usually, companies like that are pretty reserved.”

“I’ll give it a shot,” you replied, excitement building.

Jeff chuckled. “Don’t worry, I’m sure it’ll all work out. Getting him on board could elevate this article. Privacy and data brokers are hot topics, and his input would be invaluable.”

You nodded, feeling more confident. “I’ll email him today,” you said, feeling more confident.

Later, you typed a professional email to Vanguard Solutions, explaining why you wanted an interview with their CEO. Before leaving the office, you checked your inbox one last time. When a new email popped up, your eyes widened at the sender: Vanguard Solutions.

Heart racing, you opened it and quickly scanned the content. Mariko, packing her things, noticed your reaction.

“What’s up? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost—or won the lottery.”

You tried to stay calm, but couldn’t contain the excitement. “They agreed! We’re getting the interview!” you exclaimed.

Mariko’s jaw dropped before she erupted into a cheer. “No way! Oh my gosh, yes!” She dropped her bag and rushed over. The two of you started jumping around in excitement, holding hands like giddy schoolgirls.

“We have to tell Jeff!” Mariko exclaimed, her eyes sparkling.

The next morning, you and Mariko spent hours preparing for the meeting, refining your questions and organizing them by priority to ensure nothing was missed. Now, it was time for the interview. With a supportive smile, Mariko turned to you. “Ready?”

Together, you walked confidently toward the building, your heels clicking on the pavement with purpose. The glass doors opened with a soft whoosh, and you entered the polished lobby.

A friendly receptionist greeted you warmly. “I’ll let them know you’re here. You can take the elevator to the 8th floor.”

As you walked through the corridor, sleek glass-walled offices lined the path. Employees inside wore impeccably tailored suits, radiating professionalism. You and Mariko, dressed in business casual, suddenly felt a bit out of place.

You tried to shake off the feeling, but as you passed a few women chatting effortlessly, elegance and poise emanating from them, a nagging thought crept in: Chris works with people like this every day. The small, unwelcome voice whispered, You really thought you had a chance? Fool.

As you settled into your seat, the nerves returned in full force. You straightened your notes and glanced at Mariko, who gave you an encouraging nod.

At precisely 2 p.m., the muffled sound of voices outside the door signaled that someone was about to enter. Mariko shot you an encouraging smile as you adjusted your posture, trying to calm your racing heart, your eyes fixed hopefully on the door as it slowly creaked open.

But instead of Chris, a different man stepped into the room. He was tall, composed, and dressed impeccably in a tailored navy suit. The polite smile you had prepared faltered for a split second, and Mariko glanced between you and the unexpected visitor, her eyebrows raising slightly.

“Good afternoon, ladies,” the man began with a warm but professional tone. “I’m Felix, the Deputy CEO of Vanguard Solutions. I’m here on behalf of Mr. Chris, who sends his sincerest apologies. Unfortunately, an urgent matter required his immediate attention.” He paused, his expression genuinely apologetic. “To make up for this unforeseen change, I’ve extended our meeting to a full hour, and I’ll do my best to address all your questions thoroughly. Thank you for your understanding.”

Though disappointment tugged at your chest, you managed a gracious smile and rose to greet him. “Good afternoon, Felix. I’m Y/N, and this is my colleague Mariko. Thank you very much for stepping in and accommodating us so generously.”

Felix nodded, his smile softening. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both, and I appreciate your flexibility. Please, feel free to take any photos you need for your article—I’ll do my best to make this meeting worthwhile.”

As you gathered your things, the interview done, Felix offered a courteous smile. “I’m glad we could make this work. If you need any additional information, feel free to reach out,” he said, his tone as polished as ever.

“Thank you again for your time, Felix,” you replied sincerely as he walked you and Mariko to the elevator.

“The pleasure was mine,” he said warmly, pressing the button for the elevator. “It’s always refreshing to speak with people who are genuinely interested in what we do. Have a safe journey back.”

The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, and you stepped inside. Mariko offered him a cheerful goodbye, but you hesitated for a moment, glancing back one last time before the doors closed.

Felix returned to the meeting room to gather his things before heading back to his office.

“Did they already leave?”

Felix jumped slightly, looking up to see Chris leaning against the frame. “Don’t sneak up on me like that,” Felix muttered, shaking his head. “Yes, they left a few minutes ago.”

Chris’s shoulders slumped ever so slightly, the disappointment evident on his face. He stepped into the room, glancing at the now-empty chairs. “It went really well,” Felix replied, packing up his notes. “They were prepared, had great questions, and seemed genuinely interested in what we do. Time flew by.” Chris exhaled, visibly relieved. “Good. Now, let’s talk about the meeting,” he said, quickly changing the subject as they walked toward their offices.

Back at the office, you and Mariko dove into wrapping up the interview, so focused on sorting out the details that Chris didn’t even cross your mind—at least, not until the work was done. You both stayed late, working overtime to compile the interview notes, contextualize the answers for the article, select the most striking photos.

By the time the clock struck almost 9 p.m., you were finally ready to call it a day.

“Let’s pick it up from here tomorrow,” Mariko said, stretching her arms over her head. “I think we’ve made a lot of progress.”

“Agreed,” you replied, your voice carrying a hint of exhaustion. “My brain’s officially fried.”

Mariko studied you for a moment, noticing the flicker of disappointment in your expression despite your words. She closed her laptop and leaned on the desk.

“Hey, he was busy, that’s all,” she said gently. “Don’t overthink it.”

You managed a small, sincere smile.  “You know, maybe I just gave those two encounters more meaning than they deserved. I might’ve read too much into his actions. Did you see all those gorgeous women working there? He’s surrounded by them every day.”

Mariko rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Y/N, stop comparing yourself to them. You’re beautiful, too, and you have an amazing personality. Sure, they might be stunning, but who’s to say they’re his type? Or that they have anything in common with him beyond working at the same place?”

Her words struck a chord, and you nodded thoughtfully. “I guess you’re right,” you said, trying to sound optimistic.

Mariko gave you a knowing grin. “And hey, he might reach out now that he has your email. He might follow up about the interview. Maybe it’s just a matter of time. Don’t let it get to you.”

You exhaled deeply, the weight of her encouragement starting to ease your mind. “Thanks, Mariko, for cheering me up. I needed that.”

“Always. That’s what friends are for,” she said, gathering her things.

~~~

The next day, you threw yourself into your work, splitting your time between the article you were writing with Mariko and your own solo project. Still, despite your focus, you couldn’t help but steal glances at your email inbox from time to time, holding onto a small, stubborn hope. Each time, the blank notification panel stared back at you, its silence louder than you wanted to admit.

His absence in your inbox gnawed at you, but you refused to let it show. If he hadn’t reached out, maybe that was his choice. And while the idea stung, you reminded yourself that your worth didn’t hinge on his attention.

You sat up straighter, determination hardening your resolve. Whatever the reason for his silence, you had enough self-esteem to not chase after someone who might not want to be caught.

~~~

On Thursday, after work, you decided to go for a walk before returning home. The crisp night air nipped at your cheeks as you stepped outside, but you welcomed it. The park was dressed for the season, twinkling fairy lights strung along tree branches, casting a soft, magical glow over the paths. It felt like stepping into a scene from a Christmas movie, with the subtle crunch of snow underfoot and the occasional laughter of distant passersby adding to the ambiance.

You made your way over, sitting down and closing your eyes for a moment.

“Good evening.”

The soft voice startled you out of your pause. Your eyes shot open, and your heart stuttered in recognition. There he was—Chris. His handsome face was framed by the warm glow of the lights, his expression a mix of hesitance and something else you couldn’t quite place.

“Good evening, Chris.” You tried to keep your voice steady, though a flutter of nerves bubbled up inside.

“May I sit down?” he asked gently, gesturing to the bench.

You nodded quickly, scooting over to make space. “Sure, please.”

He settled beside you, his presence palpable in the cool night air. For a moment, neither of you spoke. He seemed to be studying you, his eyes searching your face as if trying to piece together your thoughts.

“What are you doing here?” he asked finally, his voice low and soft.

You hesitated but answered honestly. “Just enjoying the scenery. My brain needed a break.”

He nodded, his gaze briefly drifting to the lights. “It’s beautiful here.”

“It is. How about you? What brings you out tonight?”

“I needed to clear my thoughts,” he admitted, pausing as if gathering his words. “About work.”

The mention of work sent a ripple of tension through you. You glanced down at your hands, unsure of where this was going.

“I heard you and your colleague came for an interview,” he began cautiously.

You nodded but kept your eyes lowered, prompting him to continue.

“I rearranged my schedule to make space for it. I really wanted to help you with your article.”

Your head shot up, surprise written all over your face. He had rearranged his schedule?

“But,” he continued, a hint of frustration in his tone, “an urgent matter came up—one that required my immediate attention. I had no choice but to ask M/N to fill in for me. I even told him to extend the interview time, hoping I could join if I wrapped things up quickly.”

You blinked at him, the weight of his words sinking in.

“I... I thought if I hurried, I could still make it,” he said, his voice quieter now. “But when I got to the room, you were already gone.”

Your heart raced, a mix of emotions swirling inside you. He had tried to be there. He had wanted to see you. The thought warmed you, pushing away the insecurities that had clouded your mind since the interview.

He cared.

“Thank you,” you said softly, your voice almost catching. You fought the urge to tear up but couldn’t help the slight tremor in your words. “Thank you for arranging everything and putting so much effort into the interview. Don’t worry about not making it. I understand.”

You hesitated, then added with a shy smile, “Felix did a great job. But I’ll admit, I would have preferred talking to you.”

His eyes lit up at your confession, the corners of his mouth lifting into that familiar, warm smile. “Me too, Y/N.”

The way he said your name sent a thrill through you.

For a moment, the world around you seemed to fade, leaving just the two of you under the canopy of twinkling lights. It was a small moment, but it felt significant.

“How about going for a walk here in the park and getting a hot chocolate? I need some sugar to recharge.”

How could you say no to that sweet smile? “I’m in,” you said.

Chris got you a hot chocolate from a nearby stall, the warm cup heating your hands against the chilly air. “Careful, it’s hot,” he warned as he handed you your drink.

The two of you started strolling down the park’s illuminated pathways, fairy lights twinkling above like stars.

You took a small sip, the rich, sweet flavor spreading warmth through you. “Mmm, this is good. Thanks for the treat.”

“My pleasure,” he replied, and the two of you started walking down the park path, the glow of fairy lights lighting the way.

As you continued walking, the skating rink came into view, its bright lights and cheerful energy drawing your attention. “There’s something special happening this week,” he said, his tone casual yet hopeful. “The Christmas tree lighting ceremony in the city square. It’s on Saturday night. I’ll be there… Maybe you’ll be there too?”

Your heart fluttered at his words. This wasn’t just an invitation—it was a deliberate effort to see you again. You couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face, and you nodded softly. “I’d like that,” your cheeks blushing.

His own smile widened, and for a moment, it felt as though the rest of the world disappeared, leaving just the two of you in the soft glow of the lights.

~~~

Saturday arrived in the blink of an eye, and the anticipation of your first real date with Chris had you buzzing. You’d told Mariko all about it, and she couldn’t have been happier for you. Ever the best friend, she’d helped you pick the perfect outfit: a dark green A-line dress paired with black stockings and chic stiletto boots. Gold and green jewelry added a touch of elegance, while a wine-red A-line coat with a black bow at the neckline and matching black gloves completed the ensemble.

Now, it was finally time to get ready for the evening. You carefully applied your makeup, accentuating your eyes just the way you liked. You styled your hair with care, adding a touch of elegance that you hoped would pleasantly surprise Chris. The last time you met, your look had been casual, but tonight was different—you wanted to make an impression.

As you made your way to the subway, you muttered to yourself with a wry grin after all the mishaps that had happened today, “Okay, Y/N, enough excitement for one day. Let’s just make it on time—and in one piece.”

The subway station was a whirlwind of activity. Crowds of people bustled around, many also headed to the ceremony. The train was packed to bursting, with no space to squeeze in. A sinking feeling gripped you as the station announcement crackled overhead: “Due to an earlier breakdown, this train is at capacity. Boarding is not permitted. Please wait for the next available train.”

Your shoulders slumped, and tears prickled at the corners of your eyes. Why was this happening today of all days? It was as if the universe was conspiring against you. If you were much later, CHRIS might think you weren’t coming and leave. “You’re so stupid, Y/N. Serves you right,” you muttered bitterly under your breath, scolding yourself. The excitement of being asked out by CHRIS had clouded your judgment, and now you were paying the price.

Half an hour late.

The guilt weighed heavily on you, threatening to smother the joy you’d felt earlier in the day. You just hoped Chris would still be waiting.

~~~

Chris had arrived earlier than planned, wanting to ensure he was there to greet you. Ever since that first accidental encounter, when you’d quite literally stumbled into his life, he couldn’t shake the thought that you were extraordinary.

You weren’t like the women who typically gravitated toward him—drawn by his wealth, his title, or the opportunities he could offer. You saw him, not his résumé. That thought warmed him in a way he couldn’t fully articulate. Being around you felt easy, natural, and profoundly different from the polished performances he had to endure in his world.

He glanced at his watch. You could arrive at any moment now. The ceremony began with a speech by the mayor, who stood on a small stage flanked by twinkling lights and a children’s choir. The crowd fell silent, all eyes on the festivities, but Chris’ gaze remained fixed on the edge of the square. He scanned the faces in the growing crowd, searching for yours.

Fifteen minutes passed. Still, there was no sign of you. A twinge of concern crept into his thoughts. What could have delayed you? Chris repositioned himself closer to the towering Christmas tree, choosing a spot where you’d easily spot him as soon as you arrived.

Half an hour now. You still weren’t there. A quiet unease settled over him. Why hadn’t he thought to ask for your phone number? It seemed so obvious now, a mistake he couldn’t fix. Doubts began to creep in. Perhaps you’d changed your mind. Had he misread your excitement when he’d asked you out? Maybe you’d only agreed out of politeness, a way to avoid awkwardness. The thought sent a pang through him.

He turned his gaze to the giant Christmas tree. Funny how something so beautiful could suddenly feel so hollow. The crowd around him buzzed with laughter and anticipation, but all he felt was an unexpected sadness.

Three-quarters of an hour had passed now. The ceremony was nearing its climax, but you were still nowhere in sight. His earlier excitement had fizzled into a mix of worry and disappointment.

Chris tilted his head up at the tree, its unlit ornaments glistening like promises waiting to be fulfilled. “Y/N, where are you?” he thought, a pang of resignation tugging at his heart. Maybe he’d been wrong about you—about the connection he thought you shared. Perhaps your meeting wasn’t the twist of fate he’d imagined it to be.

The idea stung more than he cared to admit. The joy of the evening had faded, and the sparkling festivities around him felt like a mockery. Just as he turned to leave, he gave the crowd one last, reluctant glance.

And then he saw you.

You were threading through the throng of people, your cheeks flushed from the cold—or maybe from running. You looked like you’d rushed here without a moment to spare.

To Chris, you looked perfect.

A wave of relief washed over him, warming him to his core. He didn’t even notice the mayor counting down to the tree lighting; the world had shrunk to just you.

And then, a few meters away, your gaze locked.

The apologetic smile that spread across your lips melted something inside him. “So cute,” he thought with a soft chuckle.

Chris stepped forward, closing the distance between you. The lights of the tree burst to life behind him, casting a warm, golden glow over the square. But he barely noticed. The real light—the one he cared about—had finally arrived.

“Chris! Good evening,” you said, breathless from both your rush and the excitement of seeing him.

“Y/N,” he said, his smile soft and warm, relief shining in his eyes. “I’m glad you came.”

“I’m so sorry for being so late,” you began, words tumbling out in a frantic apology. “Thank you for waiting. Today was just—such a strange day. I forgot my phone, then had to go back, losing all the time I’d planned. Then there were delays at the subway, and the train was too full. I finally got on the next one and hurried here. On the way, I—”

“Y/N,” he interrupted gently, his tone as warm as the glow of the tree behind him. His smile deepened, and his gaze softened even further. “You’re here. That’s all that matters.”

You froze, surprised by the sincerity in his voice.

And then, as if the universe had been holding its breath, the first snowflakes began to fall. Big, glistening flakes drifted from the sky, catching the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree.

“Wow…” you breathed, tilting your head back to take it in. “It’s beautiful.”

Chris wasn’t looking at the snow. He was looking at you. His heart felt impossibly full as he took in the wonder in your eyes, the gentle curve of your lips, and the way the snow seemed to sparkle on your hair.

He hesitated for a moment, not sure if he should say what he’d noticed. But the moment felt too perfect to let it slip away.

“I think we’ve been waiting for this all week,” he murmured.

You blinked and turned to him, puzzled. “What do you mean?”

Instead of answering, he tilted his head and pointed upward.

Following his gesture, your eyes landed on a small sprig of mistletoe hanging above you, swaying slightly in the gentle winter breeze. Your cheeks flushed as you looked back at him, a shy smile spreading across your face.

Chris stepped closer, his movements unhurried, his gaze locked on yours. He paused, searching your expression for any sign of hesitation. But there was none. If anything, the quiet anticipation in your eyes mirrored his own.

Slowly, his hand reached up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin. The touch sent a shiver down your spine, melting into a warmth that radiated through you.

“May I?” he asked softly, his voice barely louder than a whisper.

You answered not with words but by closing the distance between you, your eyes fluttering shut in anticipation.

His lips brushed yours, feather-light at first, testing before pressing more firmly. The world seemed to fade away. The snow fell quietly around you, the distant sound of Christmas music swelling as if scoring this perfect moment. His kiss was sweet, gentle, and unhurried, as though he wanted to savor every second of it—and so did you.

The crowd around you erupted into cheers, a spontaneous celebration of the lighting of the tree and, perhaps unknowingly, of your union.

When you finally pulled apart, his forehead rested against yours, and both of you were smiling. His hand lingered on your cheek, his thumb tracing a soft line along your jaw.

“I think,” he said, his voice low and intimate, “this is already the best Christmas I’ve ever had.”

Your heart swelled, your gaze meeting his. “Mine too,” you whispered.

And as the lights of the Christmas tree twinkled above, the snow fell softly, and the music played on, you knew this was a moment you’d never forget.

After the kiss, you shyly asked, “So… do we finally exchange numbers, or should I just hope to bump into you again?”

Chris laughed, warm and genuine, as he handed you his phone. “Let’s make sure we don’t leave this one to fate.” “By the way, there’s something else I have for you.” Before you could respond, Chris handed you a small bag.

You looked at him, surprised. “Chris, you didn’t have to,” you murmured, accepting the bag and peeking inside.

Your breath caught. Nestled inside was a delicate bauble painted with a shimmering winter scene—a couple standing hand-in-hand, gazing at a majestic Christmas tree. It was the very bauble you had admired the night you first met.

“Chris,” you whispered. Tears welled up in your eyes as you gently cradled the ornament. “You remembered.”

He smiled softly, his expression tender. “Of course I did. I saw how much you loved it. I couldn’t let anyone else have it.”

You blinked away the tears threatening to spill and stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “Thank you so much, Chris. I’ll treasure this forever.”

The tips of his ears turned pink, and he glanced away, rubbing the back of his neck. For someone so composed in every other setting, his shy reaction made your heart melt.

“You’re welcome, Y/N,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “It makes me happy to see you so happy.”

You held the bauble close to your chest, your smile soft and sincere. “I truly am—not just because of this beautiful gift, but because I have you by my side now.”

His eyes softened, and he stepped closer, his gaze unwavering. “Y/N, me too. Meeting you… this feels like my personal Christmas miracle.”

Before you could respond, he leaned down, capturing your lips in another kiss. It was tender but filled with a longing that made your heart race. You melted into him, your hands instinctively resting against his chest as he held you close.

When the kiss ended, he rested his forehead against yours. “Let’s keep making magical moments together,” he murmured, his voice full of hope.

You nodded enthusiastically, your fingers reaching out to intertwine with his. The world around you faded as you walked hand-in-hand through the snow-dusted square, the lights of the Christmas tree glowing softly behind you.

｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆｡･:*:･ﾟ’★

Thank you for reading my story! 💝

Wishing you a magical New Year's Eve filled with joy and a happy, healthy start to the New Year. 🎆✨

♡＼(￣▽￣)／♡

Love, YumiYue 🌙

Please like, reblog, and follow ♡

[jeonginslefthand]

A day in your garden 🪴 🌱

Pairing: FlowerShopOwner!ChoiSan x reader Genre: Little Shop of Horrors AU/Fluff Word count: 3.7k+  Plot summary: You decide to see that flower shop owner again and he decides to show you his favorite place.   Warnings: Murder towards the end. That’s it. A/N: This is part two of my Little Shop on 8th Street series! For those who’ve been keeping up so far, thanks for waiting so patiently!! Also, this is technically my last fic for the year so have a happy new year everyone, and here’s to more writing in 2025!! Click here for part 1 of the series! Little Shop on 8th Street masterlist ATEEZ masterlist

~~~

After a long day of running more errands, you swiftly lay down on your bed as tiredness washes over you. You pull out your phone to begin your nightly doom scrolling, but your mind continues to wander off to the flower shop owner San. You replay your interaction with him today over and over thinking of all the things you could’ve said to him, questions you should’ve asked to get to know him better, wondering when you could see him again. Your heart flutters thinking about his visuals, the structure of his beautiful face, the slickness of his hair, the way his shirt perfectly hugged his toned muscles, it’s an image you paint in your mind over and over again. Until you break out of your trance and come back to reality.

Wait, why am I acting like this? You think to yourself. You haven’t felt this way about anyone in a while. You also don’t usually believe in love at first sight, but something about San is different. Maybe you are too focused on his looks, or maybe it’s the way he carries himself. Maybe it’s his passion for what he does. Whatever it is, you want to see where this goes and that hopefully it works out well. 

~~~

A week passes by and you return to the flower shop once more. Only this time, you’re not looking for anything specific, at least regarding plants. This time you’re hoping to see the owner again, who’s been making your heart race every time you think of him for the past week. You walk up to the door only to be met with a disappointing sign posted on the door. 

“Little Shop on 8th Street will be closed today. Come back tomorrow!” The sign read with a cute drawing of a bunny in the corner. 

“Dang…” you say to yourself. A part of you understood. It seemed like he ran the shop by himself. Of course, he’ll need a break now and then. Maybe you can stop by tomorrow. You still have work in the morning, but can always visit in the afternoon.

“We’re not closed for my new favorite customer!” you hear a voice behind you say and you turn around startled. 

You see a smiling San towering over you as he’s carrying lots of gardening supplies and a heavy bag of soil. 

“Jeez this is the second time you scared me like that!” you respond. 

“Sorry, bad habit of mine. Do you want to come inside?” 

You nod in response and wait for San to get the shop keys. You notice him struggle reaching for his keys and you offer to help hold some of his supplies. He eagerly agrees and hands you some plant potting and plant seeds. He then successfully reaches his keys and opens the door to the shop, leading you inside. The shop looks just about the same since the last time you visited, but there’s a feeling of emptiness this time. Maybe it’s the knowledge that no one else will dare enter the shop, but following around San while standing mere inches away from him feels different than the last time the two of you were in the shop alone.  

“I realized I never got your name the last time,” San says breaking the silence. 

“Oh! I-It’s [Y/N]!” you stutter startled by his sudden statement.

“[Y/N]... such a lovely name! A pretty name for a pretty girl like you!” San responds making you blush hearing your name from his mouth. 

San leads you to the back of the store to a storage room and turns on the lights. You’re welcomed with more gardening supplies, plant starters, and flowers growing small buds that aren’t in bloom yet. 

“You can put the gardening supplies over on that shelf,” San says breaking you from your trance.  

“Oh! Okay!” you say eagerly heading over to the supplies. You begin sorting through the supplies, doing your best to figure out where the right places are. You eventually pick up on where things go, but get stuck on the last item realizing it goes on the top shelf. You do your best to reach the shelf but continue to struggle for a while trying to find a way to reach the top. Until you feel a hand graze your wrist and take the supply you were holding, moving it to the top shelf. 

“You know you can ask for help! Nothing wrong with that!” San says behind you. You start to realize how much taller he is than you. And how bigger his body is compared to yours. Add that with the sound of his breathing filling the room and the air of his breath running down your neck is enough to give you goosebumps, making this situation more intimate than anticipated. 

“G-good to know!” you respond holding back how worked up you are right now. “Anyway, that was the last thing I had so I’ll be on my way ou—”

“Wait! I want to show you something.” San interrupts. 

“Yeah?”

San steps away and begins walking out of the storage room as you follow. You both walk around the shop until you reach a staircase and you follow San up. This leads you both to the shop's second floor where you’re now standing in a common area. You look at your surroundings, noticing the kitchen with the sink halfway filled with dishes, the couch mostly clean with some clothes here and there, and another staircase you assume leads to a third floor. San quickly realizes the mess and frantically straightens a few things up. 

“Apologies for the mess. Had I known you would stop by, this would have looked much neater,” San explains as he throws clothes into a laundry area. 

“It’s okay! I’m the one who stupidly stopped by on your day off.” You respond. “And trust me, my place is much worse.”

“I would love to see it sometime! I’m sure it’s lovely messy or clean.”

“Hmm… maybe give me a heads up so you can see it in its fresh clean state!”

“Or maybe I’ll swing by on your day off! Then we’ll be even no?”

“Fair point. Now I’m sure the thing you want to show me is not your living room right?”

“Oh! That’s right! Follow me.”

San walks up the second set of staircases and you follow. The stairs lead to a rooftop patio filled with an assortment of plants. You recognize some you have seen in the store, but plenty of others you haven’t seen. The collection of plants are arranged like a garden. With the carefully crafted color scheme and the combining scents of the flowers filling your nostrils, you feel like you could get lost in this garden forever.

“This is so beautiful…” you say to San in awe.

“Welcome to the Little Shop’s secret garden! I come up here to work on personal plant projects and sometimes to get some fresh air after a long day.” San replies.

“Personal projects? Like what?”

“Well… I like cross-breeding different flowers. It’s so interesting to see what new features come from them. And sometimes I grow the plants I sell here. I have to know how best to take care of the products so I can inform the customer. What better way than to experiment in my own home.”  

“That’s amazing!! And cross-breeding is difficult. Tried it one time and didn’t get far…”

“Takes a lot of practice. Everything that goes into the process is very strategic. Believe me, it took a long time to get my method down.”

San picks up a watering can and starts walking around. You tag along admiring the array of plants bringing life to the patio. As San is watering plants, he stops on a particular flower. You stand next to him, feeling something drawing you to the flower. 

“Seems like you like the lilacs!” San says.

“Had a feeling they were lilacs. They look a bit different though.”

“These are my crossbreed lilacs and they’ve been the most difficult ones. They only crossbreed with other lilac species so it’s been a lot of trial and error, mostly error.”

“The way the colors blend is so pretty, reminds me of a sunset. And the leaves… they’re shaped into tiny hearts.” You go to touch one of the leaves as you’re admiring them. 

“Want to know something? The two breeds that created this can only be cross-breed with each other. I tried other lilac breeds on them but it hasn’t worked out. It’s like the two breeds were made for each other. Like they were waiting for their perfect match.”

“Huh, true love found through plants… who would’ve thought—” You think to yourself. 

San gets closer to the lilacs as he carefully waters them. Something is soothing about the way he waters this specific plant. The way each droplet falls on each leaf perfectly and how he monitors the amount of water going in. Delicately tipping the watering can making sure the water pressure is just right, like the lilacs could break at the slightest miscalculation. 

You follow San around some more as he waters more plants. He even hands you the watering can and lets you water some of the plants. You’re very familiar with this sort of task but you still allow San to help you. And by helping you, putting his hands where your hands are, and guiding them to water the plants with just the right amount of water. 

Following the garden adventure, you stay a little longer in San’s apartment. San pulls out some wine and two glasses and you both begin to loosen up and get comfortable. A little too comfortable. 

“So what’s a handsome man like you really doing in this small town?” You ask in a more sultry tone than usual.

“I already told you, I wanted to get away from the big city. I love the smaller towns anyway. They have so much more to appreciate than the crowded stuffy cities.” San responds. 

“Reallyyy? Are you sure you’re not getting away from other things? Like a dark secret past? Or… a dark secret ex?” You mentally question why you said the last part. Why would you randomly ask about his relationship life when you barely have gotten to know him?

“You’re funny. Unfortunately, there’s no dark past or… crazy ex for me. I had a… pretty uneventful life in the city…”

“Dang. Not even one crazy ex story? I feel everyone has a crazy ex story.”

“Not me, unfortunately. But… what about you? Do you have a crazy ex story?” 

“Oh yeah! This one dude I dated Minho was insane. I don’t know why I even dated him. First, he was so obsessed with his cats which was weird but I didn’t think anything of it. Then he would always get jealous when I hung out with my guy friends, a little too jealous. He even got jealous when I hung out with my brother once and it was super weird. One time, we were on a break from each other and it turned out that he was stalking me and taking pictures of me wherever I went. It was so strange!”

You kept going on and on rambling about Minho as the alcohol fully took over you. In your mind, you wondered why you were even telling all this to San. Being with Minho was not the best moment of your life but here you are joking about it like it was nothing. Part of you wondered if you would have been able to tell all this to San without the alcohol. Perhaps he just has a presence that makes him easy to trust. After all, he did let you into his home so you assume that there is some connection between you two.

“Anyway, I definitely only kept going back to him because he was hot and I was desperate. I mean who wouldn’t keep going back to a beauty like this?” You wrap up by showing San a picture you still had of Minho. “It’s a shame he turned out to be a psycho…” 

San closely examines the photo like he wants his face imprinted in his mind. He chuckles and mumbles “Not as pretty as me though.”

“What was that?” You ask. You heard what he said, you just wanted to hear it again.

“Nothing,” San responds. “Anyway, it’s getting late and you are in no position to drive home. Do you want me to call a cab?”

“It’s fine. I walked here and I can walk back.” 

“Then, let me walk back with you!”

You let San walk you back to your home. The two of you are about to part ways on your porch when San suddenly says “Do you maybe want to hang out again sometime? Maybe we can go somewhere that doesn’t involve flowers.”

You pause, shocked at the sudden proposition. “S-sure I would love that!”

“Great!” San pulls out a notepad and pen from his pocket and starts writing something down. He then tears the paper off, folds it, and hands it to you.

“Here’s my cell number. Text me when you’re available!” 

“Well, guess I’ll be seeing you again soon!” You smile. 

You unlock your door and head inside and you see San start walking back toward the direction of his shop. As you close the door you giggle to yourself feeling like you just scored big time. You open the note and pull out your phone ready to save his number as you read it to yourself:

“3XX-5XX-8XXX! Text me soon dear ;)” it reads with a bunny doodle and some flowers surrounding it. 

~~~

Three days pass without San hearing from you. He worries a little bit that he was too forward, but also assumes that you’re hopefully just busy. He keeps himself distracted by interacting with the other customers in the store remembering he still has to make a living. 

About two hours before closing San decides to clean up around the shop and he hears the front bell jingle. 

“Oh hi! Welcome to the Little Shop!” San cheerfully says looking up toward the door. “Anything I can help you with today?”

“Oh, I’m just looking around for now.” A man with a soft voice says.

“Well let me know if you need any help! You can come find me at the register.” 

San finishes cleaning his area and walks back to the register. He also gets a clearer look at the man who is currently checking out the begonias. In his mind, San feels he looks familiar and he’s searching through his mind where he’s seen his face before. And then the dots start connecting and a lightbulb lights up in San’s mind.

“Oh. My. God. THAT’S Y/N’s ex!” San thinks to himself. Granted he was a little tipsy when he saw the pic of him, but San was sure that was Minho. He looked a little different from the photo, possibly because of his longer hair, but his facial features are an exact carbon copy. 

San wasn’t sure what to do. On one hand, he thinks he should leave him alone and let him shop like a normal customer. On the other hand…

“Audrey keeps pestering me about needing to be fed. And that plant’s not gonna last on my blood much longer. It’s not like I would be killing an innocent person either. He seemed like he caused so much pain in Y/N’s life, despite her hiding it through her jokes. And I can do it discreetly now that I’ve waited long enough to drive out suspicion…” 

“Hey! Flower boy I need some help!” Minho calls out to San.

Snapping out of his thoughts San quickly walks over to Minho, holding two flower pot samples. 

“Which one would be the better option for my girlfriend? It’s our anniversary and I want to get something special.” Minho asks. 

“Well I’m not familiar with your girlfriend’s preferences, but for an anniversary, I would recommend the lilies. They’re in season and will look stunning bundled in a bouquet.” San responds. 

Minho contemplates San’s suggestion and nods in agreement. 

“Alright! Then I’ll take two bouquets! One all black and one all pink.”

“Great! Follow me to the register and I’ll ring you up and get some more information!” San responds, putting on his best customer service voice. 

San leads Minho to the register and starts ringing him up while taking down other important information.

“So I will need time to prepare the arrangement which should take about 1-2 days. I will contact you by phone when the flowers are ready. Would you like to add a personalized note with the bouquet?” San says to Minho.

“Actually yes,” Minho responds clearing his throat. San prepares to write down the message in his notes.

“Awesome! What would you like the note to say?”

“To my kitten… Fate may often separate us, but it will always align for us to be together. Love you dearly my darling Y/N, waiting for fate to bring you back soon.” 

San stopped his writing as soon as he heard your name. Now he can confirm, this dude is psychotic. He also now knows that he’s been lying the entire time. According to your tipsy rant last night, you’re not his girlfriend, at least not anymore. 

“This man is beyond insane he’s delusional… just what is he planning?” San thinks to himself. 

He pretends to write down the part that he missed after your name and seemingly reads it over to himself. 

“Huh… interesting note for an anniversary bouquet. Is your girlfriend traveling right now?” San asks.

“Not really. But um, we haven’t seen each other in a while, and last time we talked she said she wanted to “take a break.” I hope to make up with her on our technical anniversary with these lovely flowers.” Minho responds. 

San pauses to think to himself again. 

“I was hoping this guy had changed and gotten over Y/N but seems like that’s not the case. I can’t let him get close to Y/N. Who knows what he’ll do if I let him go…” 

San returns to reality with Minho.

“Well, if that’s the case… might I recommend one more flower to add to the arrangement?” San says.

“Hmm, depends on what it is,” Minho responds.

San walks across the store to a cabinet. He opens the cabinet that is filled with fresh poppy flowers. He takes one of the yellow ones and walks back over to Minho, holding the flower between the two of them but holding it closer to Minho.

“These are a rare breed of California poppies. I think this would show how much you value and care for your girlfriend. Also, they smell nice and can lift the room's mood. Go on, take a sniff and see for yourself…” San explains. 

Minho gets a good whiff of the flowers and lets out a pleasant sigh.

“Wow… they smell delicious. You know they remind me of—” Minho starts, but cuts himself off as he passes out on the ground in front of San. 

San puts the plant down on the cashier counter and quickly walks to the door, adjusting the front sign from “Open” to “Closed.” He quickly walks back to Minho’s unconscious body and leans over to pick up his legs.

“Oh, one more thing I should’ve mentioned… poppy scents are so intoxicating, they can also be used to render one unconscious. So don’t sniff them for too long.” San says to Minho almost mockingly. “Oops! Guess I should’ve said something sooner.” 

San hums to himself as he drags Minho’s body across the shop floor into the forbidden room where he keeps the now larger plant. He unlocks the door and the plants sprouts up hearing San enter.

“Guess what Audrey? Looks like you’ll be eating a real meal tonight!” San says in his usual happy upbeat tone. He’s also happy that he won’t have to use his blood for the next few days.

“About time flower boy! I’m dying here!” Audrey says in response.

“Yeah, I know. It’s all I’ve been hearing from you for the past few days. ‘Oh I need some food’ ‘Some real human food’ ‘Get me some human food…don’t you love me boy?’ I’m sick of the whining so hopefully this shuts you up.”

“It would if you quit your yapping and gave me the damn food.”

San pulls Minho closer to Audrey and takes a step back.

“He’s all yours!” San says smiling. 

Audrey uses one of its vines to wrap Minho up. The plant brings Minho closer to its mouth getting a taste of the savory meal to come. Minho however, slowly starts to wake up and notices what is going on, and begins to let out a scream. But Audrey uses a smaller vine to cover his mouth. San walks over closer to Minho and leans in toward him.

“Shhh. Not too loud. The lovely baker next door will get suspicious.” San softly says with a sly smile.

Minho angrily mumbles something, but San couldn't care less what he has to say now.

“Well, let’s say I heard a thing or two about you, and now… this is your karma.”

Minho says another muffled line.

“Don’t worry I’ll be sure to deliver the flowers personally to Y/N. On the house!” San says in response. 

Minho struggles to get loose and tries to call out for help. However, San steps backward as the large plant throws Minho into its mouth taking a big chomp. Some blood splatters as Audrey bites down and San closes his eyes as some of the blood accidentally sprays on him and his clothes. 

“I always forget this happens sometimes…” San mutters to himself a little annoyed. 

San walks over to a corner and gets a mop and a towel to start cleaning up Audrey’s mess. As he’s cleaning he feels a buzzing in his pocket and takes out his phone to see what’s going on. He smiles when he sees it’s a message from you. 

“I guess we’re both having good days Audrey. Seems like I got that date with Y/N!”

~~~

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[tozettastone]

I've lived in the city for years so I've seen plenty of shoplifting. Today's was a little weird though.

Today — when I went to get more milk, at a corner store because it's new year's day and most stores are closed — I saw a shoplifter make it about 5 metres down the street from the store, get grabbed and strong-armed back into the store, and then collapse to the floor crying and howling about how their stolen ice creams were ruined because someone had grabbed them.

Even after the store owner said they would not call the police (who were exactly one building away, actually, with several cars all flashing their lights, for a totally different matter), and even after someone offered to pay for these items for them, they tearfully said they did not want their ice creams because they were "ruined and broken," through "acts of violence."

I am sure it's tempting to explain this kind of thing as mental illness, but of course that's a convenient way to make social problems a matter of individual pathology. Let us say instead: this shoplifter may, or may not, be mentally ill — we all cry and carry on about tiny dumb things when circumstances outside our control make us feel exceptionally terrible. Enough pressure can make all problems warp and become strange and insurmountable. It's possible that this person is experiencing some kind of massive additional pressure that provokes both shoplifting and crisis tears, with or without an explanation of mental illness. Anyway.

That's all very sympathetic (and weird) but of course I was standing there clutching a carton of milk for ten minutes while the shop owner and also random bystanders tried to make this person stop crying and reassure them. (I was kind of shocked at how nice they were, actually. I've seen fights break out when shoplifters are caught just outside the door.)

Eventually I went to get my milk at the register and the shop owner said, "Sorry for the disturbance. I think [that person] is lying, probably. But what else can you do?"

And I was like, you know, "Ah... It's absolutely no problem to me," and forbore to comment on what might constitute 'lying' and especially what else one can do.

I got a whole criminology degree and I still don't know, man. Anyway, I got my milk so I can have another coffee this afternoon.

And that person got new, uncrushed ice creams, so I guess... they're... also getting what they wanted. Although I'm not sure it was ultimately worth the emotional toll they paid for it. But maybe it was. Who can say. That was awful for literally every person involved, with perhaps the exception of the person who paid for the shoplifted items and got to feel like they were doing something good.

Happy new year, stranger. Truly, best of luck with whatever this is.