#that I’m hoping to move into an actual fic

[starmocha]

sorry if this is too dark but if MC did die, how do you think each of them would react/the severity of the reaction? Obviously all of them would be crushed but I think Caleb would definitely either 1) end everything 2) end himself

Oh, I've written plenty of dark stuff before in other fandoms so...

So…do you guys have your tissues ready? Guys’ reactions to losing both you and the baby. For the sake of continuity, it follows the previous ask someone wondered about an MC with a risky pregnancy. I will be writing two other alternate “endings” another time (losing you, but baby lives & both you and the baby live. I won’t be doing a miscarriage/stillbirth one since no one asked.). These ficlets will also be available on AO3 in my fic collection, and we’ll chase after shooting stars.

(I actually do have a series with the guys grieving your death, but I am way behind on it. I have Zayne and Rafayel’s stories up if anyone’s interested in reading them.)

life moved on

Zayne would struggle internally, his logical side at war with his own emotional state.

He was a doctor. He knew there would always be a risk of loss. He himself sometimes had to be the one to deliver this type of unfortunate news to families.

Only, he just never imagined he would be on the receiving end one day.

He had monitored you throughout your pregnancy, learning more, and taking precautions wherever necessary. He knew the risk, he knew there was always that chance. But he had hoped. He had prayed. He had believed.

And it was all in vain.

He had been letting work consumed him. Life still moved on. The world would not stop for him, and there were still lives that he could save. There was not a moment to waste.

Sometimes, though, the world did slow down, everything pausing, such as now as he sat down at his desk lined with a row of photographs in frames. The snapshots of the life he had lost, of the future that should have been his, seemed to stare back at him in cruel mockery.

For just this moment, alone in his office, Zayne let his grief poured out, the heavy sobs filled the former silence in the room. In an hour, he would compose himself again, returned to being Doctor Zayne, and he would resume his duty, because life moved on.

But his heart stayed buried, resting with you and the child he lost.

no rest for the wicked

Rafayel falls into a deep depression, riddled with guilt, because he believes he is being punished for what he had said previously.

There was no rest for the wicked.

Rafayel couldn’t recall the last time he had slept peacefully, or even at all. Surely, this must be a punishment, right?

He had said such horrible words, so he was being punished for them, right? He didn’t deserve the baby, and he didn’t deserve you, so he was punished with the loss of both. That was a fair punishment, right?

He laughed, the sound so hollow and mirthless, his chest tightening with pain as tears trickled down his face.

Right. He didn’t deserve this.

So why should he deserve anything?

He grabbed an empty canvas and hurled it at the wall, destroying it instantly.

He didn’t deserve any of this.

He grabbed another, and another, and another. He incinerated several art pieces at various stages of completion, feeling nothing as they turned to ashes. He vandalized most of his studio, destroying his tools and everything he had ever created. There was no meaning to any of this anymore.

Heaving heavily and with a dagger in his hand, he turned to the grand canvas that filled the space of a wall. He plunged the weapon into it, dragging it down over and over again, his mind filled with a cacophony of his own voice and yours.

My fishie…I won’t leave you…

“Don’t lie to me…” he kept attacking the canvas, his words growing more frenzied, “Don’t leave me…I’m yours…I’m yours…you promised to stay…”

He dropped the dagger and fell to his knee, his forehead resting against the canvas as he sobbed. He was so exhausted, wanting nothing more than to fall asleep again in your arms.

“I’m sorry…”

forever would be nice

Xavier would feel so much guilt, almost as if he didn’t do enough to help you.

He felt so incompetent.

He should have done more. Should have done something.

Xavier could hear you scolding him, telling him it wasn’t his fault. Deep down, he knew it was true, but he wanted a reason, wanted an explanation for why that day happened. If he at least shouldered the blame, then maybe he could make sense of why he lost not only you but the baby as well.

Lately, it seemed like it was harder to wake up. He had not changed the bedsheet or pillowcases in a while, the scent of you still lingered, helping him sleep most nights. In these sweet dreams, he lived another life, his world completed with both you and the baby.

He wished he could dream just a little longer. Forever would be nice.

just enough

Sylus reverts to who he used to be, cold and distrusting.

There wasn’t enough alcohol in the world to numb this pain, but maybe if he drank enough, he could begin to forget.

Forget the you who had fearlessly took his hand no matter how dangerous he was, the you who had wanted to bring light into his dark world, the you who accepted him for who he was, loved him just as he was.

Sylus’ hand tightened around his glass, the force enough that it shattered and shards pierced his skin. He stared emotionlessly at his cut hand, the blood dripping profusely to the floor not even registering in his mind that it was his.

As his wounds healed on their own, his eyes glazed over, and he remembered another day when there was so much more blood than this. There was just so much blood on that hospital bed, and he remembered how his voice was completely raw as he screamed at the panicked doctor and nurses, and then the chaos subsided, an eerie silence had followed, his whole world gone in an instance.

There was no noise. There was no warmth. There was no joy. There was only this sudden void in his life again, one that he had tried to fill for so long.

Not enough alcohol to numb the pain, not enough punching bags for him to take his rage out on, and not enough money to bring back what was.

If he could trade away his riches, his power, his glory, he would in a heartbeat for a chance to have you back, because with you, everything was just enough. He desired nothing else but you, the love and happiness you had brought into his life was enough.

always by your side

Caleb wouldn’t be able to bear living in a world without you, since his whole life since childhood had revolved around you.

There were hushed whispers throughout the Farspace Fleet, all quieted in an instance whenever Caleb passed by. The Colonel was always a strict man, his presence demanding respect for his authority, but recently, there had been a change, his demeanor hardening, his violet eyes dulled, a despair hidden beneath his icy façade.

One night in warm June, he left Skyhaven in the dead of night, catching a late train to Linkon. He disembarked, empty-handed, his feet automatically moving, his mind muddled with memories of a little girl who came into his life so long ago, of his promise to always be by her side, their lives always intertwined until that one awful day he was taken from her.

However, nothing could ever keep him from you. He would always find his way home to you, and no matter the storms in your lives, he would find a way to right things.

You were both going to be happy. There was nothing make-believe about the life you two were going to have.

You had worn a white dress, him in his colonel uniform, and with your hand in his, he had vowed his life to you once more, his joy boundless when you echoed back to him similar words. After marriage came the baby carriage, and you were all going to be a family of three.

He had always taken care of you, and he still took care of you even when there were concerns about the pregnancy. He had done everything right, made sure you were safe throughout, so how could things have gone wrong in the eleventh hour?

The moment you slipped from his life, his whole world stopped, the nightmares he had thought were gone returned with a vengeance, haunting him with dreams of that day over and over again. He had failed you, the hospital had failed you, everyone had failed you, because he would rather believe this than ever think he was always meant to lose you over and over again until you were ripped from his life for good.

It wasn’t fair.

He wondered what sin he carried to be punished with the loss of both you and the baby. A baby conceived from love, an innocent being, never once taken breath but only knowing death. Caleb wondered what kind of God would be so cruel, wanting to scream his anger out, wanting to demand answers to all of the questions that had been haunting him.

He stopped walking, seeing a locked gate blocking his path. He stared at it dully before he pulled out a gun, shooting the lock once with perfect precision. He continued walking, the path he was taking lined with rows of gravestones of those long departed from this world.

The one he wished to see was secluded, in its own area and hidden away, just like how he had always wished when you were alive. The world had never deserved you, and now he was even more convinced, you were always too good for this Hell on earth.

A grave among bushes of hydrangeas, his breathing suddenly became ragged. The air was heavy and he was pulled to his knees, his lungs tightening as he struggled to breathe, but for this brief instance, there was a smile on his face as he let go of his control over his Evol.

The gun he used earlier levitated ominously.

He started laughing, tears in the corners of his eyes. He could hear your voice again. You were calling for him.

Caleb! Caleb!

“I’m here,” he whispered, “I’ll always be by your side.”

Caleb always kept his promises to you. Always.

Among the dead, a deafening noise resounded, startling the wild creatures that lurked around the area.

Surrounded by the pink and blue and white of the hydrangeas, the summer seemed so endless now as the ground was dyed in crimson.

[fr3akshow-d4rlin]

Berlin/Song Jungho x reader

Warnings: mention of death, concentration camps and guns,

Word count:1.2k ( i actually checked this time 🩷)

A/n: i like this fic!! I hope you enjoy it and it was requested!

Berlin’s eyes shot open, the darkness of the room swallowing him whole. His body was drenched in sweat, his heart racing in the cold stillness of the night. He sat up in a sudden, frantic motion, as if trying to escape the nightmare that was still gripping him. His breath came in sharp, desperate gasps, and for a moment, he didn’t know where he was. The faint smell of antiseptic, the cold steel walls—he was back. Back in the hell of the concentration camp.

The sounds echoed in his ears: the screams, the marching, the gunshots. His body trembled, his fists clenched at the memory of the torment he had survived. He could still hear the haunting whispers of those he had lost, the faces of the men and women who hadn’t made it out alive, etched into his mind.

Suddenly, a soft voice broke through the fog of his nightmare.

“Jung-ho.”

His head snapped toward the voice, blinking in confusion. It was you. Your soft, reassuring voice grounded him, pulling him back into the present. His vision was blurry, but he could make out the outline of your figure beside him, the warmth of your presence in the otherwise cold room.

“Shhh,” you whispered, your hand gently reaching for his trembling arm. “You’re okay. It’s just a nightmare. You’re here with me.”

His eyes filled with panic, his chest tight. The nightmare hadn’t fully left him, and his breath was still ragged. But as your hand touched him, it was like an anchor, a lifeline in the darkness.

“Not again,” he muttered, his voice low and shaky. He didn’t want to relive that terror. Not again. Not in front of you. “I... I can’t—”

“Jung ho,” you said again, your voice unwavering, soft yet firm. “You don’t have to be afraid. You’re safe. I’m here.”

His eyes searched yours, and for the first time in a long time, he saw no judgment, no pity—just understanding. He had always been so proud, so careful to keep his vulnerability hidden away, locked deep inside. But with you, he felt something he hadn’t in years—acceptance. You didn’t see him as broken. You didn’t see the monster others sometimes painted him as. You just saw him.

A quiet sob broke through his chest, his emotions swirling in a violent mix of helplessness and fear. His hand reached for you, desperate, and without hesitation, you took it.

He met your eyes, the usual arrogance and bravado gone, replaced with vulnerability. It was rare, even for someone as complex as Berlin, to show this side of himself. But with you, he felt safe enough to let it slip away.

“Please,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “Please stay with me.”

You nodded, moving closer to him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, pulling him into the warmth of your embrace. He leaned into you, his body still trembling from the remnants of the nightmare, his head resting on your shoulder. The comfort of your touch soothed him, and slowly, he felt his racing heart begin to calm. He let out a deep breath, closing his eyes, trying to focus on the sound of your heartbeat against his ear, the steady rhythm grounding him.

The room was silent except for the soft, quiet sound of your breathing. You held him tighter, feeling the tension in his body slowly begin to dissolve. The air between you was thick with the unspoken connection that had always been there, even in moments like this, where all Berlin could show was his raw, unguarded self.

“I hate it,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “The nightmares... they won’t go away. I don’t know how to stop them.”

You pulled back just enough to look at him, your thumb gently brushing over his jawline. “You don’t have to stop them. But I’ll be here with you. You don’t have to face them alone.”

Berlin’s gaze softened, his usual arrogance and deflection fading in the intimacy of the moment. His eyes traced the contours of your face, searching for reassurance, for something to hold onto in this fragile, vulnerable space. You were here—his protector, his anchor in the storm. He never asked for this kind of connection, but it had found its way to him all the same.

“I don’t deserve this,” he muttered, his voice thick with emotion.

“Everyone deserves love, Jung-ho,” you replied, your voice quiet but firm. “You included.”

He leaned forward, his forehead resting against yours. The contact was intimate, grounding, and in that moment, nothing else mattered. The nightmares, the fears, the endless weight of his past—it all seemed to fade away in the presence of your closeness.

But there was still so much unspoken. A part of him wanted to distance himself, to retreat back into the layers of pride and walls he had so carefully built over the years. But another part—the one that had been slowly unraveling ever since you had come into his life—longed to let you in. Longed to let you see the parts of him he kept buried.

Without thinking, Berlin’s hand reached for your cheek, his thumb brushing gently against your skin. His breath caught as his gaze locked onto yours, his lips barely inches from yours. His heart thudded in his chest, the same rapid pulse that had filled his veins during the nightmare, now pounding for an entirely different reason.

“Jung-ho,” you whispered again, your voice a quiet plea, a question. And in that moment, you knew what he needed—what he wanted. You didn’t wait for him to ask. You closed the distance between you, your lips meeting his in a slow, gentle kiss.

The world around you seemed to disappear. There was no nightmare, no past, no walls. There was just the warmth of your lips against his, the softness of your touch, the connection between two souls that had found solace in each other despite the darkness of the world.

Berlin’s heart raced, but this time, it wasn’t out of fear. It was out of something deeper—something beautiful that had been growing between the two of you. He deepened the kiss, his hand cupping your face as if he were afraid you might slip away, as if he might wake up from this moment just as he had woken from the nightmare.

But you were real. You were here.

And for the first time in a long time, Berlin didn’t feel alone.

When the kiss finally broke, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other, your hands still tangled together. Berlin’s eyes were closed, his body leaning into yours as if drawing strength from the simple, pure connection.

“I didn’t know I could feel this way again,” he whispered, his voice raw, as though he was confessing something deep within.

“You don’t have to be alone anymore,” you murmured, kissing the corner of his lips softly.

Berlin nodded, his chest swelling with something he hadn’t let himself feel in years. Hope. Love. The quiet promise of something more. “Thank you,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.

“You don’t have to thank me, Berlin. I’m not going anywhere.”

And in that moment, the nightmares seemed just a little more bearable, the future a little less uncertain. As long as you were by his side, there was hope. There was peace. And for the first time in so long, Berlin let himself believe in it.

A/n: i hope you enjoy it!!

[myokk]

before it felt like a sin, ch. 3

ch.1, ch.2

pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

word count: 2300

summary: Eloise never wanted to be different.

And yet, her differences are what have defined her life up until this point: growing up as a squib in one of the most prominent wizarding families, being exiled to muggle society, and then attending Hogwarts at the age of sixteen.

She finds herself thrust into the life she should have been prepared for from birth but was denied. As she navigates this new life and her new precarious position in her family, she must come to terms with the fact that maybe what she dreamed of her whole life isn't turning out how she ever expected it would.

a/n: this is how I wish the duel could have gone in the game...😇🙏

I also want to reiterate that this fic is REALLY CANON DIVERGENT!!!!! I will NOT be following the game’s plot at all really with this (it really starts to diverge around chapter 6/7 maybe I don’t remember), and I don’t see Eloise as the game’s MC either.

Eloise was being woken up altogether too soon for her tastes. Something soft was hit her face, and she sat up groggily, pushing it away. She blinked as she looked around, not recognizing her surroundings. It was disorienting not knowing where she was, although, as she rubbed her eyes, it was slowly starting to come back to her…Something happened yesterday, she thought. I…

“Come on, sleepyhead!” exclaimed Imelda, throwing more clothes on top of Eloise. “The house elves left these last night at the foot of your bed while we were sleeping. If you don’t hurry up, there won’t be any more food left for breakfast. And, you know that the first day of classes is the most important…”

As she continued rambling on, Eloise got up and started putting on her school robes. A dark grey tartan skirt with dark green and silver stripes, a cream button-up with puffy sleeves that she tucked into the skirt, a black ribbon to tie around her neck, and her Slytherin robes on top. She didn’t know how to feel about the day that was ahead of her; she felt a strange mixture of elation and apprehension.

“…you’re taking too long. I’ll wait for you in the common room,” Imelda concluded, giving Eloise one last look before striding out of their dormitory. All of the other girls had already gotten ready and left for the morning, which wasn’t really a surprise to Eloise. As soon as her head hit the pillow the second time, she had fallen into a deep sleep and hadn’t heard the bustle of the girls preparing themselves for the day.

She finished lacing up her boots, and after one last glance in the mirror to make sure nothing was out of place, headed out to find Imelda.

When Eloise walked into the atrium, she was struck by how different it felt in the morning. It was truly as beautiful now as it had been eerily peaceful the night before. Once again, light piano music playing in the background - Eloise smiled to herself, recognizing the Gymnopédies by Satie. Her piano lessons had been the only bearable classes at the muggle school, and she had excelled at the instrument, often practicing during her free time.

The piano music blended in with the murmurs of students standing or sitting in small groups around various tables filled with breakfast foods and scrolls of parchment. The greens and blues coming through the windows felt refreshing, and the whole room was glimmering under the reflections of the water playing across various surfaces. She could see plants swaying under the water, with schools of fish weaving between them. It felt…magical.

Eloise’s eyes were drawn to Ominis and she started walking to him, standing by the same window where they had been sitting earlier. Instead of being in shadow, however, he was now illuminated by the rays of sun shining through the water. He was smirking to himself as he listened to the two first-years next to him. As she got closer to them, Eloise heard them speculating about the possibility that they would get to see a mermaid.

“Oh! I think I just saw one!” one shouted at his friend, pointing out the window. “Oh, wait…it was just algae.”

Eloise walked up to Ominis, smiling despite herself. 

“Is this your idea of a good time?” she asked him, while he was simultaneously asking her how she had slept. They both paused as soon as they heard the other start talking, and then both started speaking at the same time after an awkward pause.

“Oh…I’m sorry. I…I slept well,” Eloise said, blushing. “And you?”

“As well as I ever do,” he replied. She noticed that the dark circles under his eyes were still very prominent, although they didn’t look eerie in the morning light. He indicated the first-years with a jerk of his head, changing the topic. “I doubt mermaids find us that interesting. I rather think they purposefully avoid our common room so as to not be treated like creatures in an aquarium.”

Eloise laughed at that and tilted her head playfully. “And just where did those two even get the idea that they might see a mermaid?”

“That, my dear, is a mystery. I surely have never seen one before,” Ominis said, standing up straight and taking his wand out. “I have been hearing a lot of chatter about you this morning, you know. It seems like reality has been mixed with fantasy in the tales of your journey here, and nobody knows the full truth.”

“Except for you,” Eloise pointed out, stepping into place next to him as they walked through the common room. She spotted Imelda, supervising some students playing chess and instructing them on the moves they should be doing. Imelda looked up and saw Eloise, and interrupted her own advice mid sentence.

“Eloise!!” Imelda bellowed as she practically ran across the room. Was this girl ever not purposeful in everything she did? The students around them looked up from what they were doing to watch her, and maybe get the chance to hear a first-hand account of what actually happened to Eloise. “Why didn’t you tell me that you were attacked by a dragon last night?”

“Oh, er…” Eloise couldn’t figure out how to respond to the other girl. Imelda didn’t seem worried or scared about what Eloise had gone through the previous day; rather, she seemed indignant that she hadn’t been told about the attack. Beside them, Ominis was laughing.

“It must have been terribly exciting,” Imelda went on, ignoring any response Eloise may have started giving. “A real dragon and all. I wish I was with you guys, I’ve actually prepared for what I would do in that very situation. I would definitely have diverted its attention away from you on my broomstick, and actually the best strategy would have been to…”

“I doubt you really would have been able to do anything,” Eloise interrupted. “It was terribly frightening, but at the same time the whole thing was over so quickly that I haven’t had time to process it yet.”

“Well, you can tell me about it on the way to breakfast. Maybe once you learn how to ride a broom, we can practice what to do together. You have first-hand experience, after all!” Imelda looped her arm through Eloise’s. She shot a look to Ominis. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’m taking her now. We have a long day ahead of us, lots to do you know. The usual. Anyway, Sebastian’s coming over so it’s not like I’m leaving you completely alone.”

Before Eloise could even react, she was being marched up the spiral staircase that led out of the Slytherin common room and they were off to breakfast.

“Duelists, take your mark,” Professor Hecat said to the two students standing on top of the platform in the middle of the room. The duelists in question looked at each other warily, steadying their wands. Eloise was exhilarated. This was the type of class she had been daydreaming about while she sat wasting her time embroidering landscapes.

Professor Hecat hadn’t wasted any time putting the students to work. Although at first, many of them had scoffed at the thought of Leviosa being a useful spell in combat, Eloise listened attentively and focused on the correct wand movements. Maybe it didn’t actually matter, but she was determined to make sure that nobody would think that she didn’t deserve to be there. She had a lot of catching up to do, but between the books Professor Fig had given her and the knowledge she retained from reading from her family’s library as a child, she already knew a lot. She was quite pleased when the feather levitated as soon as she said the incantation, as there were other students who struggled to get theirs to even twitch in an upward direction.

Now, Eloise gripped her wand tightly in her hand, shifting a bit as she stared Sebastian in the eyes. He had said that she would get ‘a proper Hogwarts welcome’ and she was looking forward to it.

If the rumors she had heard before class were true, Sebastian was the best duelist in their year, and quite possibly at Hogwarts. Although she felt a little apprehensive at the thought of facing him, she hoped that he wouldn’t hold back on her just because she was new. Even if she had fought the guardians yesterday in Gringotts, she wanted to prove to herself that she could keep her wits about her in the heat of battle. 

Maybe her stance was a little too stiff, her movements too by the book. But that could only be changed with experience.

Sebastian smirked slightly to himself, no doubt thinking that this would be an easy victory. In the background, Eloise heard Professor Hecat say they could begin, but she was more focused on her opponent’s face. As soon as she saw him raise his wand and begin to open his mouth, she shouted “Protego!” and the shield blocked the spell he attempted to send shooting her way. His eyebrows raised in surprise - apparently he hadn’t been expecting her fast reflexes.

Quick as a whip, she shouted out “Levioso” and Sebastian was in the air. She hit him with a few more curses before he fell to the ground, breathing heavily. He pushed himself up quickly and went back into position. Wand out, now more wary of her capabilities. He blocked her next attack and went in for one of his own, which hit her shoulder. Eloise hissed in pain and immediately shot out a volley of quick jabs in his direction, a few hitting their mark before he put up a shield.

Sebastian was grinning as they circled each other, looking for an opening. The rest of the class surrounded the platform they were on, cheering them on. Both continued to attack and put up shields, without any clear winner in sight. It was obvious that they were very evenly matched.

“I’m pleasantly surprised,” he said as they were catching their breath between attacks. “I haven’t had a fight this good in a long time.”

Eloise just grinned in response, before shooting off another spell in his direction. It was expertly blocked with a flick of Sebastian’s wrist; in response he volleyed off a jinx towards her.

Eloise crumpled to the ground, yelping as she grabbed her ankle. Sebastian was immediately at her side, crouching down and looking at her with concern.

“Eloise? Are you okay?” He looked down at her ankle and then abruptly looked up and back at her face, a faint pink redness dusting his cheeks. He may have been dueling her, but it was distinctly different to be so close to her like this.

In response, Eloise grinned mischievously and quickly levitated him off the ground, getting to her feet at the same time. With a few quick curses sent his way, soon Sebastian was lying sprawled on the ground outside of the little arena Professor Hecat had erected.

“Not fair,” Sebastian exclaimed, rushing to his feet. He looked at Professor Hecat, who was looking between the two with a pleased smile.

Eloise smirked at him, only responding with, “Slytherin.”

Sebastian laughed and ran his fingers through his hair, making his brown curls even unrulier than they had become in their duel. He held his hand out to her and she shook it formally. “Good duel. You can definitely hold your own and I won’t underestimate you again.”

Professor Hecat clapped her hands together to get the attention of the class. “I hope you all paid attention to these two. Ten points to Slytherin for an excellent demonstration of what we learned today. On Wednesday, we will continue with practical application of the techniques learned during this class. I expect to see flawless wand work and concentration. I demand excellence from my students as I know you are all capable of achieving it. Class dismissed.”

As Eloise was gathering up her things, Sebastian sidled up to her. “Really, that was quite impressive. You seemed stiff at first, but it would seem you have fought before. You definitely give as good as you get.”

Eloise blushed and tucked some strands of hair that had come undone behind her ear. “Well, really, I had only read about the techniques before. Haven’t really had much time to put all of that theory to use yet.” She smiled shyly ad Sebastian, who was looking at her with his jaw open. “You fight really well, too. I had to use all of my focus. It’s kind of exhausting, actually.”

“But exhilarating, right?” Sebastian asked eagerly. The two of them started to head out of the classroom together, dwindling behind the rest of the students. Entirely absorbed by their conversation. “Everything else goes out of focus and the only thing in the world is you and your opponent.”

“Yes! Exactly that,” exclaimed Eloise. “I’ve never experienced anything like it.”

“Well,” Sebastian said slowly, dragging the word out as he thought. “You know, there might be a way. To continue. I normally would never do this, but…you know…”

“Know what?” Eloise prompted as Sebastian trailed off.

“You’re a really good duelist. Intuitive. There’s a certain exclusive club of sorts, one that may or may not be unsanctioned, where you can continue to hone your dueling abilities.”

“Exclusive and unsanctioned?” Eloise asked with a smirk. “You can count me in.”

“Excellent,” Sebastian replied, smiling broadly. “Sometimes, to make the most out of your experience at Hogwarts, you need to bend certain rules. They’re more like guidelines, anyway.”

“Merlin, Sebastian,” said Imelda, walking up to them and crossing her arms. “Don’t let yourself fall into any of his schemes. That boy is in detention practically every other day.”

“Or maybe,” Eloise said, “he’s just not good enough at avoiding getting caught. I, on the other hand… Come on, Imelda. Let’s go to lunch.”

She laughed as they walked away, leaving behind a dumbstruck Sebastian. He shook his head in disbelief and headed off to his next class.

next chapter

[johnsbleu]

why don’t you want to post hmh anymore?

it's not that i don't want to! i don't know how to say this without sounding like a bitch or something but i work really freaking hard on hmh and always have. i put a lot of time into it then i post the chapter and get like...maybe 3 notes on it. i don't get any sort of nice comments anymore, maybe once in a while, i'll get one. i post and literally a week or so later someone is just asking for an update, and it's not that i don't appreciate that but sometimes i can't wait to post a chapter because i'm excited about what's happening in it and no one even mentions it, they just ask for another chapter. i am so beyond grateful that people have stuck around for so long and still reach out and want to read more about this little world i created but sometimes a little mention about the chapter goes a long way. idk i'm probably being too sensitive or something but i see other writers get tons of love on a chapter while i just have nothing and i get in my head about the content i'm writing and if it's even worth it anymore

[kohakhearts]

this wip wednesday i bring you nothing. again

[cuteniarose]

since ming-hua/ghazan have 2 kids... what abt zaheer + pli??

(firebender/combustionbender and/or nonbender -> airbender?)

I was gonna answer this earlier but the lack of sleep reared its head 😅 I took a nap and in the meantime received permission to talk about it, though just in case I will still try to keep it brief. A P’heer child does exist in a few of our verses (we aren't lying when we call it the MULTIverse of madness, I can name at least 7 different AUs off the top of my head and that's not counting the variants where only small changes are made. If we ever made a comprehensive list it'd probably be longer than the list of our OCs and that one’s currently up to 31)

Anyway, her name is Nazra, born in about 153 AG if I remember my timeline right, and she’s a combustionbender. But despite being the same height as her mom, possessing easily the deadliest ability imaginable and generally looking rather intimidating, she’s an impossibly awkward nerd who’d rather sit around and read Air Nomad philosophy like her dad all day. Though she does take after her mom in the romantic sense, having a soft spot for airbenders, while simultaneously doing it better because she’s the definition of a disaster lesbian. She’s quiet, a bit anxious and really sheltered, but she does have a feisty streak to her in that she easily calls people (read: her sister/s) out on their bullshit if they annoy her, and isn’t afraid to use her bending to protect those she loves

The reason I’m not quite sure of the extent as to which I’m allowed to talk about her is because she’s not my OC and neither is she Kat’s. She was created for the fic Empty and Become Wind by Esaleyon, a Red Lotus Korra AU which Kat used to beta read for and which we use as basis for the Ultimate AU I described in my response to the Lien-Hua ask. But as far as I know, the author quit writing/the fandom and as I said above, Kat and I took Nazra in, so to speak. But she features in only a small handful of our AUs (currently only 3 come to mind, one of them ironically being the complete polar opposite to the other two in terms of tone and how dark the storyline is) so we don’t speak of her that often. She is still very dear to my heart, has been since 2020, and in the AUs she features in I consider her a sister to Suiren and Midori

If you’re curious, a few years ago Nina (@silima, who single-handedly fed the entire Red Lotus fandom with amazing art back in 2020-2022 or so) drew her, thus creating the design that I base my own sketches off of, so everyone say thank you Nina :)

[dagaan]

The next chapter of SkullHacker, my cyberpunk shivrye AU, is finally out! You can check it out at the usual spot, over here.

[manynarrators]

//How does anyone post fics once a week??? I am so impatient! I just want to post it now!!!

Me: I shall post on Friday!

Me (on the Monday after I post): surely it’s gotta be almost time right???

Me, le gasp: how little time has gone by!

Something else that adequately sums up my relationship to wtnv fic.

Me: Finally! I am finishing the fics I’ve had in my drafts for years! I have no more ideas! I’ll be free!

New ideas: abooooouuuut that…

Me:

[mobbothetrue]

What the hell, that’s actually a really funny line

[monicaalexandraaa]

SAM !!!!!! THIS ONE !!!!!!!! Saaammmmm !!!!!!!

I saw this posted and for some reason I just felt like I couldn’t do anything else before I read this and yeah I think everyone else should stop what they’re doing right now and read this. Oh my heart. My hearrrrrtttttt. The way you write your fmc’s is magnificent. I always feel like I’m in their brain and their heart. I felt for her sooooo much. You often cover such real and relatable struggles and you excel at it. This was phenomenal. The angst, the fluff, all of it. Just so so good. I feel like I can’t properly explain my thoughts (the tags may help) but WOW! 🩷🩷

Independent

~10.6k words

From me: I know it's a long one, but it's a one-shot.

Warnings: angst, fluff. I've got about a thousand tropes in this one. Coworker Harry, Roommate Harry, love at first sight, he falls first and harder, one bed if you squint.

Summary: “Go on a date with me,” he groaned.

“Because of the cookies?”

“No! Well, yes. Right now, yes, because of the cookies. But s’not usually because of cookies.”

She laughed. “I don’t date, Harry.”

Harry was tall, with soft brown locks that begged to have fingers run through them, and cool green eyes that reminded her of the sage green bridesmaid’s dress she wore to one of her friends’ weddings the year before. He wore a dark purple button down with sleeves rolled up revealing a bunch of tattoos on his left arm but only a few on the right. His voice was melodic. Smooth, like he was going to sing her a lullaby and warm like it could toast a marshmallow.

Her group chat with a couple of her office friends had been buzzing the moment Harry took residence at the desk across the aisle and one row ahead of her.

Holy fuck. Val texted. Office eye candy 😍

Do you hear that thundering sound? That’s my heart 😍 Rachel continued.

She smirked at the desks, shaking her head.

Don’t shake your head. Say something! At least you’re single, you have a chance! Val sent the messages in quick succession, making her desk partner, Hunter, look at her curiously each time it vibrated.

“Do you have an emergency?” He asked her.

She shook her head. “Nope,” she smiled. “Not at all.”

*

Harry met her and asked her out on the very first day he started his new job. They both worked in an office. Their desks only a short distance apart while they worked together. He assumed there were no rules against dating as there were several married couples within the office as he quickly found out from the shared last names and wedding photos of his coworkers lining one another’s desks.

It seemed, as long as it didn’t interfere with their work, there was no issue.

Which was fine by Harry.

He was happy to ogle her all day long and he would spoil her rotten outside of work. “Hi, m’Harry,” Harry took his opportunity to introduce himself when everyone else left for their lunch hour and she was finishing something up. Leaving them alone in the office. Harry analyzed her desk as quickly as he could.

Their office was wide open with desks back-to-back nearly identical on either side with a long aisle leading to the office of their boss at the back of the room. Her desk faced the front of the room while Harry’s faced his boss’ office. He was on the opposite side of the room, and he had a great view all day long to watch her profile as she worked. Her hair was half up, her beautiful eyes hidden behind glasses, and her mouth set in concentration as she focused on her tasks. He couldn’t see her whole body, but he watched her pull her sandy colored cardigan around her white shirt multiple times that morning, like she was chilled by the air conditioner. His eyes were drawn to her. Like she was a lighthouse, and he was out at sea. All he wanted to do was watch her, keep an eye on her, and admire how stunning she was.

She had a little plant near her window—a bunch of red poppies wrapped up in a burlap vase, tied with a red bow. He couldn’t tell if it was fake or not, but he suspected it was. There was a picture of a large group of friends right by her monitor where she was off to the side in it, one of her girlfriends had an arm around her. Her stationery was cool tones of blues, greens, and purples. Her handwriting was scribbled on a calendar in front of her and he thought the way she curved her L’s was loopy and pretty beyond belief and he wished he had one in his name just to see how it looked. But it made him want to know how she would write his name anyway. There was a date at the end of September that was marked with a heart and he wondered why. Was it an anniversary? A birthday? Or the day her favorite movie came out?

A book sat on the windowsill, and he wondered when she had the time to read it during the day or maybe it was a security blanket kind of thing. There were two paper trays stacked on top of one another to organize her work and sticky notes all over her monitor and desk with ideas, reminders, and even a couple that said things like, “we love you” and “you’re so sweet.”

“Hi, Harry,” she smiled up at him to introduce herself. “Welcome to the team, are you having a good first day?”

He nodded, smiled a little brighter and dove right in. “I think m’in love with you,” she released a laugh that was so unbelievably beautiful Harry thought it sealed the deal. “I wouldn’t laugh, kitten. M’serious,” he frowned with faux sadness. He knew he was being a tad bit ridiculous. Maybe it wasn’t right to say it while they were alone, but he didn’t want to say it in front of everyone either. Hopefully he could convince her he was harmless, even if what he said was true.

Her cheeks reddened and she smiled. “That’s... very forward,” she reminded him. “And you don’t know me.”

“I know,” he rubbed the back of his head. “I was going t’hold off on saying it until tomorrow, but m’unable t’contain it. You’re very beautiful and everyone seems t’go t’you when they need help, so I imagine you’re a lovely person,” he pointed at the sticky note that said we love you once more. She snickered again and looked away covering one cheek with her hand. “M’going t’go t’lunch before I embarrass myself further, but I jus’ wanted to tell you,” he shrugged, stuffed his hands in his pockets and turned toward the exit.

“Nice meeting you Harry,” she called after him a smile on her lips.

He grinned and turned briefly to wave before he exited. “Don’t forget t’eat, kitten,” he called.

*

But now that Harry admitted he was in love with her, she couldn’t help but feel like she was being watched while she worked. Her eyes darted to his side of the room often trying to see if he was staring at her. He wasn’t each time which only made her feel guilty and worse. Maybe her standoffish disposition deterred him rapidly. It was probably for the best, anyway. For a lot of reasons.

Was it disappointment she was feeling from his lack of attention? That didn’t seem right.

“Harry!” Val called from behind her. “Are you enjoying your first day?”

“Immensely,” did his eyes drift over to her and her desk? She stared at her screen pretending to work while she listened.

“Did you just move to town?” Rachel was much further towards the front of the room. He turned to give her his full attention. It made her heart skip a beat with how kind it was. His politeness was a massive turn on.

Even if she wasn’t going to let herself admire Harry from across the way just because they worked together.

“I did, m’actually looking for a place t’live if y’know of any places. M’at a hotel until m’on m’feet.”

Her heart started beating about two hundred times a minute because she knew what was going to happen before it did. She could feel the bubbling excitement from her friends on either end of the room. “Mary Poppins has a room!” Rachel shouted.

Her cheeks turned bright red.

“Her roommate just moved in with her boyfriend like last week! How perfect is that, Mary? You were all worried about finding a normal roommate. I even did his background check, so I know he’s good to go!”

Harry chuckled. “Um... who’s Mary Poppins?”

The whole office giggled. “Miss Poppins, did you not introduce yourself?” Someone else called. Hunter snickered across from her and she glared at him.

This was mortifying. Wasn’t this supposed to be a mortifying day for Harry? His first day and all? How come she was being teased? She took a deep breath and turned from her monitor to make direct eye contact with Harry who was already looking at her. Like he knew exactly who Mary Poppins was without his coworkers needing to tell him. “It’s a two-bedroom apartment. One bath. There’s a nice kitchen, all new appliances.”

Harry’s jaw dropped as she spoke. Like he was surprised it really was her. “Val looks like she’s going to bounce out of her seat,” Hunter smirked as he whispered under his breath to her while she tried not to panic at the thought of living with someone so unbelievably attractive and just admitted he was in love with her.

“Tell him about your living room!” Val sounded like she was bouncing.

“Water’s included.”

“She’s the cutest interior designer. It’s so homey it feels like a warm hug when you walk in. Like living with a rom-com character,” Rachel continued.

“Rent would be about twelve hundred,” she ignored her so-called friends.

“She bakes something once a week too, so it always smells like sugar and Christmas. It’s seriously the coziest place I’ve ever been,” Val kept going.

“In-unit washer and dryer.”

“Then she brings whatever she makes for all of us here to devour. It’s incredible,” Rachel’s sentiment was answered with a hum of agreement from the rest of her coworkers. She even heard someone say remember her apple turnover pastries?

“You get your own parking spot,” she tilted her head and looked at the ceiling to see if there was anything else she had forgotten. “I think that’s it,” she met Harry’s eyes once more, holding his gaze briefly before she turned back to her monitor.

“Harry you should totally move in, you will fall in love with the place.”

“M’sure I would,” he chuckled. “Could I see it sometime?” He asked. His attention never strayed from her face. She could sense his gaze on the side of her cheek the whole time her friends embarrassed the crap out of her. “Whenever you’re free. Doesn’t have t’be today.”

“Today’s fine!” Rachel assured him. “She doesn’t do anything on Mondays.”

She rolled her eyes. “Today is fine,” she repeated and smiled sweetly. She scribbled on a sticky note and headed to his desk to drop the address off with him. Then she made her way toward the restroom because she needed to get out of the room. Needed away from everyone teasing her good-naturedly.

But mostly so she could keep herself from telling Harry that she was quite, very possibly, in love with him as well.

*

True to her friends’ words, the place was cozy as hell. There was a basket of throw blankets next to a sofa that looked like it was comfier than his bed currently in his storage unit. Artwork dotted the walls, board games stowed below her TV, and curtains pulled back from the windows letting in the afternoon sunlight. It felt like a home.

There were three boxes in the middle of the living room between the coffee table and the TV, but it was otherwise spotless. “You’re very clean.”

She nodded. “I know, I’m sorry.”

He chuckled. “Y’don’t need t’apologize,” he put his hands in his pockets, so he didn’t do something crazy like hold her hand.

“I don’t want you to think I’m crazy, is all. You can be... messy... I won’t have a freak out or anything. Unless you leave food in the sink then we get bugs. Then I’ll be kind of freaked out.”

He laughed. “I wouldn’t do that. I like t’think m’pretty clean myself,” he assured her. “I also...” he took a deep breath and rubbed the back of his head. “Y’friends kinda put y’on the spot. I know what I admitted at lunch was kinda out of... out of the blue,” he bit his lip. “Y’don’t have t’feel obligated t’house me.”

“I don’t,” she promised. “I need a roommate and like Val said,” she shrugged. “She did your background check so I assume you won’t kill me, probably. At least not because you’re a serial killer. Maybe because I’m too clean.”

He shook his head with a smile on his lips making the most adorable dimple dent his cheek. She wanted to stick her tongue in it. “Thank you, m’really appreciative.”

She smiled. “You’re welcome, Harry. Sorry we’ll be around each other a lot.”

That didn’t seem like a bad thing at all. “I think it’ll be okay. We didn’t really talk much today,” he shrugged. “If y’get sick of me, m’sure I can find another place t’live,” he winked.

She rolled her eyes. “Won’t be necessary. But okay,” she sighed. “You can move in whenever,” she grabbed her keys from the breakfast bar where she ate most of her meals and pulled a key off the ring and handed it to him. “I have a second job some nights, but if you give me a heads up, I can help you move your stuff.”

“S’very kind of you, kitten, but y’don’t need t’do that. M’not going t’have all that much stuff. M’friend Louis lives not too far from here. He’ll come help me.”

“Offer stands,” she assured him.

Harry’s eyes scanned the room again and landed on the three boxes once more. “Are those your old roommate’s boxes?” He asked.

She nodded. “Two of them. I’m supposed to bring them to her, but they’re super heavy so I’m like... working up my mental and physical strength to bring them to my car. It’s going to be two trips and I’m just being a little lazy about it.”

“I can bring them down,” he grabbed one. It was definitely heavy. It was evident Harry had defined biceps and triceps practically outlined by the pretty purple button down, but it was manageable for him while a struggle for her. “Still probably two trips,” he nodded.

“Oh, I can take—”

“No, no,” he shook his head. “Don’t want you t’hurt yourself. Let me,” he offered and snagged her car keys off the counter.

“Oh, thank you that’s... thank you,” she swallowed, feeling grateful.

“Not a problem,” he assured her and left immediately.

When he returned after putting the second box in her car to return her keys, she had opened the third box and begun laying out a bunch of fall items to decorate their place. “Do you mind decorations?”

“Of course not,” he smiled. “Can I help?”

She blinked at him and tilted her head. “Um... I can handle it. If you need to pack or go... get dinner or something.”

“M’fine,” he smiled, setting her keys on the counter and glanced around the room. He noted there were hooks screwed into the wall at various points. “Can I hang something for you? M’good for height.”

Harry wasn’t that much taller than her, she was definitely taller than the average woman, but it still meant she needed to drag out a stepstool when she wanted to put up her art and decorations. “That would be awesome,” she nodded. “Thank you.”

“Not a problem, kitten,” he smiled.

*

Harry had a dreamy smile on his face as they talked and got to know one another. He hadn’t brought up that he was in love with her. Nor did he make her feel the least bit uncomfortable. Like it had never happened.

Why did it feel like she was disappointed about the prospect of that?

Maybe he wasn’t in love with her. Maybe the initial reaction of seeing someone roughly the same age as him at work made his senses a bit wild for a moment.

No. She wasn’t disappointed. Everything about Harry being in love with her would be a recipe for disaster and it was for the best that he didn’t fall in love with her.

It was just something a little bit out of the blue to say to the only person who was single in the office. Everyone had a significant other they had met within the office or elsewhere. She was the last single person. The same was true with her friend group as well. Everyone in her life had been paired off except for her.

He was her coworker. He was going to be her roommate.

But right as he left, he sent her heart into a frenzy. They were by the door. She wanted to make sure he got to his car safely even though it was a safe neighborhood. It was just the way she was. “Will you go on a date with me?” He asked.

She stared at him in shock, her lips parting like she was mid-sentence, and he had interrupted. “Seriously?” She giggled reflexively, but her cheeks felt hot. They had a lovely evening together getting to know each other. Harry helped with all the decorations and yes, in its own way it was a bit intimate. But he couldn’t possibly think that it was a good idea to date his roommate.

“Yes,” he nodded.

“Harry, I can’t date my roommate.”

“Pretty sure s’how most rom-coms start,” he smiled. “S’okay. I’ll ask again later. Have a nice night,” he grinned with a wave and walked toward his car. Leaving her jaw slack, as she watched her roommate head off into the night.

*

Harry moved in later that week. He asked her to come with him to his storage unit to see if there was anything she would want in the apartment, but she had pretty much everything. It seemed silly to bring a double of everything when she owned all of it already.

But Harry would forever be grateful and indebted to his sister for her kindness as he watched her examine some of his belongings. One in particular caught her eye making him think that he had won the lottery with how excited she was.

She couldn’t believe Harry had a stand mixer and she was nearly in awe of all the attachments to help bake and cook easier. “I’ve always wanted one of these. They’re so expensive,” she blinked. “How do you have one?”

“M'sister got one when she got married,” he explained. “But she doesn’t bake and said it was taking up space in her kitchen.”

“Can we bring it to the apartment? Do you mind?”

The way her eyes lit up at the sight of it? Pure joy and happiness? Yeah. It was going to the apartment. If he ever moved out, he would probably leave it with her too just so she could always look that happy. “Course. Anything else?”

She looked around the organized storage room sifting through the items in different bins while Harry searched for some of his own trinkets that he thought he would want after his initial move. His room and bathroom items had already been moved in with the help of Louis. “This is stunning,” her voice full of awe once more, grabbing a print from behind a shelf. Harry wasn’t sure where it was from. He thought his mum purchased it to make his old place feel like home. “This would look amazing in the living room.”

“Bring it,” he smiled. She tucked it under her arm and continued searching. Harry grabbed a few more odds and ends and she plucked out a few more things she thought would work with the apartment’s décor and mainly helpful kitchen tools.

“It’s your place too, Harry,” she reminded him. “Is there anything you want there?”

He smiled, shook his head. “Y’seem t’have everything, kitten. M’not picky.”

“I don’t want you to feel like a guest,” she pouted. “Like you should bring these,” she gestured to pictures of his friends and family in a bin. “I can move some of mine to my room so you can put them up.”

He grinned. “Sure,” he shrugged. “If y’think s��what I should do.”

“Alright, could we come back in a few weeks and see if there’s anything else you want once you’re settled a bit?”

“Course.”

They gathered as much as they could, Harry would have to come back for the stand mixer. Harry closed the trunk and moved to open the passenger door for her before her hand fully pulled it out of the way. He waited until she was tucked into the seat safely and he handed her the car keys. “I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll be here,” she smiled.

“Hey kitten,” he said leaning against the door before he left. “Will y’go on a date with me?”

“Harry,” she laughed the same way she did the last time he asked her. The same way she laughed when he told her he was in love with her. “You can’t be serious!”

“Deadly,” he smiled at the delight on her face. The pretty pink color rising to her cheeks. “Will you?”

“I can’t go on a date with you, Harry,” she looked at him with a bit of sympathetic pity. Like he was ridiculous for asking. Again. Which he was.

“Then I’ll ask again another time,” he shrugged, closed her car door, and headed to get the stand mixer that made her happy.

*

“Hey Poppy, did y’want t’go get lunch with me?” Her eyes didn’t move from her screen. “Poppy,” he repeated. “Poppy,” he sang. She glanced around and realized she was the only one in the room.

“Me?”

He chuckled. “Yes, you.”

Her eyebrows pinched together. “Why did you call me Poppy?”

“Well, m’assuming s’your favorite flower,” it was a safe bet since there was a small bouquet right beside her. “Also, everyone else calls y’Mary, Poppins, or Miss Poppins. Which I still don’t know why, but I wanted t’be different. Want you t’know s’me when y’hear me talking t’you.”

Her heart raced. Harry was utterly adorable. “I see. Sorry,” she smirked.

“Anyway,” he came over to stand by her desk. “Do y’want t’get lunch?”

“Harry, I told you I don’t date.”

“M’not asking as a date. M’asking as your coworker who has never seen y’eat a bite of food while you’re at work. M’asking as your concerned roommate who worries y’don’t eat until y’get home for dinner. And I don’t even want t’think ‘bout how long y’go without eating when you’re at your second job.”

She smiled at his thoughtfulness. “I don’t go out to lunch with everyone,” she explained. “I don’t know if you noticed, but people always seem to need me while I’m here,” she gestured to her desk. “Lunch is the only time I get a minute to myself. And I can get caught up a bit before the afternoon and everyone comes back.”

“Well do you bring lunch?” He asked, his frown deepening still worried she wasn’t eating.

“I do, it’s in the breakroom. I’ll get it in a minute,” she promises. “Go, you’re wasting your lunch hour.”

“Okay,” he sighed. He stopped in the doorway of the entrance to the office. “Hey Poppy,” he smiled.

“Yeah?” She asked without looking up from her screen.

“Now that y’mention it though, will y’go out with me?”

*

At home, Harry took the trash out because he said it was a boy-job and she shouldn’t be out in the dark by a dumpster. It made his skin crawl just to think about it. He made her promise that she wouldn’t take out the trash and he didn’t mind if he had to go out twice in one day. She thought it was ridiculous. But she agreed.

He cleaned up after himself checking with her to see if it was up to her standard. Even though she assured him he didn’t have to meet her standard. His cologne overtook their bathroom, and it was so comforting she took long hot showers at night just to amplify the scent filling her nose. Harry stretched across the sofa and scrolled through various show options but often didn’t find something that piqued his interest. Instead, he would put on some background noise and read on an eReader. His eyebrows pinched together in concentration.

Harry bought groceries and didn’t ask for any money from them. “M’sure you’ll buy stuff too,” he shrugged. Plus, she already had all the cleaning supplies, laundry detergent, dishwasher pods, and the like. Harry hardly had anything useful so buying groceries was the least he could do.

Except the stand mixer. People moaned about her cookies. Harry got to see her make them firsthand and the very scene with an apron around her body, her smile bright as she tested various stages of the dough, it did wonders for Harry. Some kind of nearly pornographic idea that only Harry would think was pornographic. “Will you try one?” She asked, hope in her voice.

Was he supposed to say no to her? Absolutely not. So, he tried one. “Go on a date with me,” he groaned.

“Because of the cookies?”

“No! Well, yes. Right now, yes, because of the cookies. But s’not usually because of cookies.”

She laughed. “I don’t date, Harry.”

He frowned, faking his disappointment (although he was the slightest bit disappointed). “I’ll try again,” he shrugged and took three more cookies from her cooling rack before returning to the sofa to read.

*

“Mary!” Val sang. “Do you have the stain stick?” She called from behind. She opened a drawer, eyes unmoving from her screen and held it out behind her for it to be passed back by her other coworkers. Harry chuckled.

It killed her that she knew his chuckle without looking. “S’impressive,” he murmured quietly. But she could hear it from across the way.

“That’s nothing,” Rachel said from the other end of the room. “Miss Poppins,” she smiled delightedly. “I have a missing button,” she told her.

That was the other drawer, a small little sewing kit to fix a button.

“Hair tie!” Someone called from the other side of the room.

“Lint roller!”

They all called out items and she had every single one.

“Do you have anything stronger to put in this coffee?” Their boss was walking up the aisle and paused at her desk. She smirked, opened the bottom drawer and placed a mini bottle of liquid on the edge of the desk. The whole office laughed as he snatched it and headed to his office. “You’re getting a raise, Poppins,” he called.

Hunter turned to look at Harry. “I gave her the nickname,” he explained.

“I get it,” he chuckled.

“If you need it, chances are she has it.”

“If she doesn’t, she adds it,” Val explained.

Her smile was soft. Harry thought it was sweet how her coworkers adored her. It was clear she was loved by them. Her thoughtfulness was admirable. Harry wondered how he was supposed to top that. No wonder she didn’t want to go out with him. Why would she want to go out with anyone when she was ten times sweeter than anyone she knew?

*

Her best friend Josephine (Joey) was helping her in the bathroom when Harry got home from the gym one Friday evening. “Holy hell you said he was cute, not hot,” she gaped.

“Aw, y’think m’cute, Poppy?” He asked winking at her. Her cheeks flushed red, making it so she didn’t need any of the blush she was putting on her cheeks. He leaned against the doorframe; arms crossed over his chest. He was sweaty and really wanted to get in the shower, but he didn't mind a bit of time to stare at his sweet roommate.

“I should have known. Only a man that uses such high-end cologne would be this hot.”

“Didn’t you buy Matt high-end cologne?”

“Hence why I think he’s so hot,” Joey beamed. Her friend laughed quietly, shaking her head as she finished with her makeup.

“Sorry Harry, we’ll be out of the way in a minute.”

“Take y’time. M’not in a rush.”

“Oh, you should come out!” Joey squealed. “Harry, please! She’s always by herself keeping an eye on us it would be nice to have someone keep her company!”

“Thanks, Mom. I don’t need a babysitter,” she rolled her eyes. “No offense, Harry.”

“S’okay,” he chuckled. “I don’t want t’impose. Plus m’in need of a shower.”

“Don’t let us stop you,” Joey smiled widely gesturing to the shower.

“Can you not?” She rolled her eyes and looked at Harry with apologetic eyes.

He laughed again and shook his head. “Y’can call if y’need something,” he assured her.

“Harry, please come out! You can meet us there!” Joey said again.

She looked at him with a soft smile. A look in her eyes said he wasn’t going to get out of it. Not if he didn’t have a really good reason. But truthfully? He didn’t need a reason to get out of it. Spending time with her outside of work, outside of the apartment, and errands like the grocery store and running to the post office had him excited to see her in another frame of light. Did she let loose? He would love to dance with her. Even if it was only as friends, roommates, fuck as coworkers even. How did she act around her friends versus her coworkers? God, he was obsessed.

“I can wait for you,” she suggested, her voice soft. Harry smiled.

“Thanks, Poppy.”

*

Her eyes scanned for her friends as she sat on a stool at a high top beside Harry. It was like watching a teacher on a field trip counting heads to make sure everyone was still present. The table was littered with drinks all of which she minded just as intently.

Harry just gazed at her as he sipped his drink. He helped as needed pushing drinks toward her friends as they came back from dancing. “Y’don’t dance?”

“Oh...maybe later. I’m not very good,” she admitted. “I like dancing with Joey because she’s worse than me.”

She caught the eye of one of her friends, Hailey, approaching and she reached into her purse strapped around the front of her for something. Harry watched as Hailey made it to her. “Thanks Mary,” she gushed taking the bandage from her and made her way for the bathroom. It was pretty wild she could anticipate whatever her friends needed. It was like at work. Harry was a bit awestruck and looked at her with a surprised expression. She shrugged and continued sipping her drink.

Jaylen was next. Joey’s twin brother; they had the same facial expressions--mainly the smile that Joey had on her face when she suggested Harry shower in front of her and his favorite person.

The same smile appeared on his face and told Harry he was going to say something just as delightful as Joey had said of Harry. Sure enough, Jaylen draped an arm around her and leaned into her ear to whisper something over the sound of the music. She rolled her eyes and shoved him playfully. His face turned serious and he whispered something again.

She frowned. Then reached into her purse again. Out came a tampon which he slid discreetly into his pocket and then she glanced at his outfit twisting her lips to the side in disappointment.

After a brief thought, she pulled her purse over her body and laid it on the table. The long cardigan she wore came off next, leaving her in a black tank top that tucked into her jeans. It hugged her curves like a glove making Harry’s mouth water and he glanced away worried he would look like a creep. He finished his beer before Jaylen grinned and thanked her profusely and walked away. She took a deep breath and put her purse back into position before wrapping one arm in front of he protectively, gripping the front of her shoulder.

“Are y’cold?” He asked.

She shook her head.

But Harry was sitting beside her. He could see the goosebumps on her skin. She selflessly gave her sweater to her friend for whatever reason (Harry wasn’t totally sure, but he suspected it was menstrual related). But she was going to pretend like she wasn’t cold? Harry was definitely in love. In case it wasn’t obvious by the moment he met her. Boldly, Harry reached below her bar stool and tugged it toward him. She jostled a bit but he maintained her balance. Then he draped his arm around her body pulling her toward him further and he couldn’t help but notice she didn’t pull away. She didn’t make a sound and her facial expression didn’t change.

But Harry felt her body relax into his side, her head dipping ever so slightly toward his shoulder. He smiled softly and brought his lips closer to her ear so she could hear. “Y’don’t have t’lie t’me, Poppy. M’your roommate and all. I know y’like the apartment a toasty temperature.”

She smirked and tilted her head up. Their eyes connected, their mouths only two inches apart. “Thank you,” she said kindly.

Harry really enjoyed holding her.

*

At the end of the night, she rounded up her friends ensuring those who said they could drive actually could and if they couldn’t she called for Ubers until everyone was safely on their way home. Jaylen’s girlfriend, Maya, had her green sweater wrapped around her white pants. She thanked her profusely, drunkenly.

Joey and Matt waved goodbye. “Bye Hot Roommate,” Joey called waving to Harry specifically.

“Jesus, Joey,” Matt rolled his eyes. “Nice meeting you Harry,” he called.

Once everyone was gone, she rubbed her hands on her arms to keep the blood flowing and warming her skin. Harry wrapped his arm over her shoulders again and tucked her into his side as they headed for her parked car a couple blocks away. “Go on a date with me," he spoke straight forward. Hoping if he didn't look, it wouldn't seem like as a massive deal--almost like he would trick her into a date.

She elbowed him. “I can’t go out with a coworker, Harry. Or my roommate for that matter.”

He shrugged. “I’ll ask later,” he boldly kissed the top of her head. Fortunately, she didn't seem to mind. Harry was sure to keep that in his head for future reference. He would most definitely be kissing her again. “You’re an extremely sweet girl, Poppy. Selfless, lovely, kind,” he listed. “Whoever y’end up with, m’going t’be very jealous,” he assured her.

She snorted and laughed quietly under her breath. “Thank you, Harry.”

*

For months it continued with similar routines, feelings, and questions. They grew closer as friends. At work he admired her from his desk from across the office. When she didn’t go to lunch, he reminded her to eat and not work too hard. At home, he grumbled that her loophole of taking the trash out in the daytime was not the point of his promise. He still bought groceries each week trying to figure out all the things she enjoyed eating.  

He helped her clean the apartment and when it was getting cooler outside, she asked to join him at the gym. Her outfits were cute and made guys stare at her as she worked out, unbeknownst to her. She asked for help from Harry which made him feel like he won an Olympic medal. His face was smug as the men in the gym finally stopped looking at her. Thinking Harry was lucky enough to be hers.

It made him happy to help her figure out new machines and with her sets of weightlifting (even though she didn’t like it).

Everywhere they went, people ogled her. She was so kind. Little kids would smile at her in grocery store lines and wave like it was a game of peekaboo. Dogs tugged on their leashes hoping to get a pet from her around the loop she ran in the neighborhood. Their elderly next door neighbor tried telling her a hundred times that she had a grandson her age and he would love to date her (that one drove Harry the most crazy).

She had her head leaning in her palm as she watched the stand mixer beat the brownie ingredients like it was the most interesting thing in the world. But Harry was watching her; so he was, in fact, watching the most interesting thing in the world.

He leaned against the wall just beside the kitchen entrance. “Poppy?” He asked. She looked up at him. “Go on a date with me, please," his expression soft.

She was finally getting used to it. She gave herself a lot of credit. It was pretty crazy she hadn’t caved yet. Harry was so lovely. Not to mention attractive. At the gym, his muscles rippled and glistened with sweat. The outline of every abdominal muscle was sinful. It was a miracle she didn’t drop her own weights or fall on the treadmill when she caught sight of him. It drove her crazy that the women there gazed at him longingly; like he was something to eat. But was she really any better?

She smiled, the blush on her cheeks still prominent, but not as deep. She was used to her heart skipping a beat, the butterflies fluttering in her stomach each time he asked. “That's very sweet, Harry. But I don’t date.”

It was six months since he met her when he finally asked. “Why not?”

She shrugged. He thought she wasn’t going to say anything more, so he frowned, sighed, and headed for the living room to get back to his book. “I just don’t date, Harry. I like being friends,” she told him.

He grumbled something about still being friends even if they dated but she either didn’t hear or pretended not to hear. Either way, it was quiet for a few beats. “If I hadn’t told you I was in love with you that first day, would that have changed your answer?”

She giggled and shook her head. “No.”

“Okay,” he shrugged. Ever determined. He smiled widely at her. “I’ll keep asking then.”

*

When she got dressed up for a family wedding and clicked down the hall in heels and a dress that flowed over her like she was the bride (only wearing green of course, not white). Her hair was curled and pinned so prettily Harry thought he was seeing a real angel in the flesh. “Oh, come on, Poppy,” he groaned and covered his eyes with his hand dramatically. “S’not fighting fair,” he frowned.

She grinned, her cheeks warming more than they had in a while. “I look okay?”

“Stunning,” he grumbled. “M’so jealous I won’t get t’dance with you,” he pouted.

She shook her head. “I don’t usually dance at weddings when I go alone,” she explained.

“Well, y’should’ve told me. I would’ve been your date.”

“Harry—”

“Platonic date,” he rolled his eyes. “This is worse than when y’wore that pencil skirt t’work,” he reminded her. She snickered and shook her head while she looked at her phone. She sucked her lip into her mouth and sighed wincing slightly and then turned to her room again. After several minutes she returned in a different dress. She was equally stunning, but she looked a little forlorn. “An outfit change?”

She nodded. “Yeah,” she shrugged. “My sister is wearing green.”

Harry frowned. “So?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know. I just...” she shrugged. “It’s alright. I like this dress just fine.”

But it wasn’t green. She looked so pretty in green. It complimented her skin tone so perfectly. She looked stunning. Like she was a queen. “But—”

“Seriously, Harry. It’s fine.”

The muted purple dress looked lovely on her as well. But Harry thought the green made her look otherworldly. He wanted the happiness back in her eye. The light that sparked when he complimented her. “Well when can y’wear it?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Season’s almost over for a wintergreen like that,” she shrugged. “Maybe next year.”

Harry frowned. But then he had a wonderful idea to help both her dress and himself. “Go on a date with me, Poppy.”

The smile reappeared on her face, and she shook her head. “I can’t, Harry.”

“Please? Do it for the sake of that dress,” he pleaded. “We don’t even have t’call it a date. An outing. An adventure. Whatever y’want. Y’jus’ need t’wear it before y’can’t.”

She smiled. “Thank you, Harry. But I can’t.”

He sighed. “You’re welcome, Poppy.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow? I’ll steal you a cupcake. I heard they come from this bakery that I love and if it doesn’t make it home to you, then we’re going to have to go there anyway.”

It didn’t replace a date. But he liked the way she smiled. And going to a bakery together was inherently a couple-y thing to do. So he would take what he could get.

“Sure, Poppy. I’d love to.”

*

She didn’t need people. Needing people had only ever broken her heart. She never asked for help ever. Well...only when they were at the gym but that was a safety thing more than anything.

Even when she should have asked.

Harry didn’t notice until he drove her to a house party that her friends didn’t invite her too. She was sleepy, it was obvious. Leggings, oversized sweater. Her hair was braided loosely and falling apart because she had woken in the middle of the night to answer a message. Harry was in the middle of a good book. Unable to put it down when she ventured into the living room. A yawn falling from her lips. Her eyes barely open. It took several questions and repeated convincing to let him drive her since he was awake, and it looked like she was going to pass out while standing.

Harry insisted on coming in even as she told him to stay in the car, but he refused. She found her friends, her voice was soft as she encouraged Jaylen to leave. A little over his limit and Joey and Maya were about just as gone and unable to convince Jaylen to go with them. A guy from across the room made a joke about Mommy coming to save him. As her pugnacious friend made a turn to deal with the offensive person, she stopped him. She was quick, grabbed his arm, and held tight.

When they returned to the apartment she corralled her friends into their sleeping arrangements. Maya and Jaylen in her bed, Joey on the sofa. “Sorry I took your reading spot,” she whispered as she tucked a blanket around Joey. She snagged another blanket and curled into the only other chair in the living room. “Thank you for driving,” she smiled, closing her sleepy eyes.

“You’re gonna sleep there?” He asked. She nodded, barely moving. Like she was already half-way to dreaming. Harry snagged her out of the chair, cradling her and bringing her to his room.

“Harry,” she protested.

“We’re grown adults,” he reminded her. “We can share a bed without it being weird. S’like a hotel room.”

“Harry,” she repeated, her objection evident in her tone. “I can’t—”

“M’not letting y’sleep in a chair or on the floor. So, it’s m’bed or y’aren’t sleeping,” he shrugged.

She sighed. Too tired to oppose any further, thankfully. Harry laid her atop the covers and draped another blanket over her. He went to the bathroom, brushed his teeth, and slid beneath his sheets and glanced at the sleeping angel beside him. He smiled. He liked the way she looked in his bed. Liked the way she seemed comfortable and sleepy beside him. His bed felt warm with her beside him. Even though she wasn’t touching him. She smelled good in his room too.

“Night, Harry,” she mumbled.

“Good night, Poppy,” he answered, reached out, squeezed her hand before releasing it so she wouldn’t break a piece of his heart by telling him they shouldn’t.

It was easy to fall asleep with her beside him.

It was even easier to dream of her with her intoxicating presence in his room as well.

*

Harry noticed how drained she seemed when the weather continued to get warmer. Her friends all had birthdays around the same time, and she was a mess of scheduling and reserving birthday dinners and planning things for all of them. Did Harry miss her birthday? He would have to ask. He hoped he didn’t. He hoped her friends would take the time to plan for her the way she did for them.

Work was approaching a busy season, and everyone kept coming to her more and more throughout the day. He could see the anxiety on her face as her growing to-do list looked nearly unmanageable. Harry tried to go to others if he had issues. But every time he asked someone else a question, they called out for Mary Poppins, and she would glance up and look at Harry with a sad smile asking how she could help.

Harry was worried she wasn’t eating her lunch. When everyone else left, her eyes were hidden behind those glasses, her face concentrating and relieved for the reprieve from people calling her name for help with work or needing something like a pen or a screwdriver. Sometimes Harry hated his job. Not because it was difficult. But it seemed like everyone in the office was incompetent. Or weaponizing their incompetence and foisting their tasks onto the lovely woman who would never say no to them.

Her friends did it too. With all the planning and such.

The poor thing looked exhausted. She didn’t join Harry at the gym and her second job seemed like the only time she got to herself. “I miss reading,” she grumbled when she got home late from her shift. She kicked her shoes off and flopped onto the opposite end of the sofa. “My eyes are exhausted though,” she rubbed them for good measure. “I think I would fall asleep if I tried to read. I think I need to wake up earlier and read.”

Harry snorted. “Don’t burn yourself out, Poppy,” he rolled his eyes. “What are y’reading?”

“I’ve been trying t’read this book for months,” she pulled it from the shelf below the coffee table. He had seen it tucked there for a while. He grabbed it from her, skimmed the back of the book, and opened to the first chapter.

Then, he started reading.

Out loud.

“Harry,” she whispered her eyes wide.

“Yeah?” He asked, pointing at the sentence where he stopped and looked at her curiously. “M’starting over, because I want t’know what’s happening,” he smiled. Her face looked so shocked and confused. Sad even. Like she didn’t know what emotion she was supposed to feel.

“You don’t have to—”

He shook his head, and continued reading before she could finish her sentence.

Harry read three chapters before he carried her sleeping self to bed.

*

Something changed in Harry. He almost turned into a stalker. He tracked her movements and routines for a week. He knew most of them. But he really tracked them. The daily ones were easiest. She went for a run in the morning, he followed her lead and didn’t say a word. He went to her favorite coffee shop and paid for her favorite drink for a week’s worth of drinks in advance.

He wished they carpooled, but she was so busy. So he timed his arrival so that he was at the entrance door holding it open for her. When everyone left to get lunch, he heated up her food and brought it to her desk before leaving silently.

One day, there was a note on her dashboard saying she had a full tank of gas. When she arrived home after her second job, she noted her spare car key was on Harry’s key ring. At home, her laundry was in the wash. The shirts she didn’t like to put in the dryer were hung in the bathroom.

Harry could see it. She was cracking. It was the first time someone had done something for her it seemed. The first time someone so selflessly did things for her, anticipated her needs the way she anticipated everyone else’s.

Her throat felt tight as she looked at Harry in the kitchen, making her favorite dinner—a soup that took hours and hours to make.

He didn’t even know it was her birthday that day which made her heart feel sicker than ever.

“Poppy,” he smiled sweetly placing a bowl in front of her exhausted figure.

“Yeah?” She whispered.

If she wasn't so in awe, she would have realized where his tone was. What was coming next. “Go on a date with me, kitten.”

“I can’t.”

“S’not so hard,” he assured her. “You sit across from me and be yourself because m’already in love with you,” he reminded her sweetly. An impish grin on his pretty pink lips. That dimple she wanted to sink her tongue into on display. “I tell y’how stunning y’look, I pay for you t’eat. I feed you a dessert of your choosing that you’re probably too full t’eat and then I can kiss you wherever y’want. Lips, cheek, forehead,” he shrugged. “Then we come home, and I’ll read a chapter of your book. Y’can decide if y’want t’go on a second date.”

She giggled, her cheeks red. “I can’t, Harry,” she looked at him apologetically, but she felt herself melting as much as the soup warmed her insides. It was ridiculous to eat soup in the middle of the summer. But Harry made it for her anyway.

His heart deflated a little. He wasn't kidding. He was definitely in love. He had to be because there was no other way he could explain the feelings he had for her. Someone so thoughtful, so pretty, sweet, and funny.

Harry had asked her out at least a hundred times. Around Christmas, she got her hair cut and he always found her beautiful, but he asked her almost every day following her new hair style for a month straight. Each time she said she couldn't. She didn't date.

For the first time in the near year since he had first asked her, first met her, he realized she said she can’t go on a date with him. She didn’t date. That he was crazy.

Not that she didn’t want to. She didn’t say no.

Hope bloomed inside him.

*

She didn’t need anything. She didn’t need anybody. It was clear someone or maybe many had let her down so many times. He watched her doing everything she could to make this party as nice as humanly possible for Hailey. Not that Hailey didn’t deserve it, but no one had done anything like this for her. Harry only found out it was her birthday after the fact, and he felt like shit for it. Even though she assured him that was one of the best birthdays she ever had.

All he did was make her soup.

She deserved so much more.

It almost seemed too obvious that they hadn’t done anything for her remotely as lovely as she did.

“You’re staring, Styles,” she murmured without looking up from the chair while he lounged on the sofa.

“Go on a date with me,” he smiled.

She blushed, shook her head. “You’re crazy.”

“You haven’t said no.”

"I've said no about a hundred thousand times, Harry," she rolled her eyes.

Why was it now? Why did he want to tell her what he was thinking about the whole situation now? But it was in his chest. He had to say it. Had to tell her.

“No, you’ve never said no,” he shook his head and looked at her head on, while she continued looking at her to do list, her planner. Her poor neglected book waiting to be read by Harry because her tired eyes couldn’t. She looked up at him and smirked. Ready to protest once more, but Harry shook his head again. “I remember everything you've said t'me. I would remember a 'no,' it would probably kill me t’hear y’say, no kitten. Y'call me crazy, y'say y'can’t or that y'don’t date. Never, not once, have y'ever said y'don’t want t'go on a date with me. Nor a flat out no. So m'going t’keep asking until y'say y'don’t want to. Because I think you do want t'go out with me but for some reason y'don't want t'allow yourself t'be happy. T'let someone else in. M'not going t'stop asking. Not until I hear y'say "Harry Styles I would rather die than go on a date with you. I never want to go out with you." Maybe that makes me conceited or creepy. M’sure it does make me crazy. But I don’t care. I want t'go on a date with you. I want t'go on a million dates with you, actually. So m'not giving up until y'call me creepy or y'say y'don’t want to.”

She swallowed like there was something stuck in her throat. Her eyes didn't move from her lap.

"Kitten," he murmured. She didn’t look up. “Poppy,” he whispered. She finally met his green-eyed gaze again. His expression soft, pleading. “Go on a date with me,” his voice was soft. Harry swore his heart stopped beating because if he was wrong, if she really was saying no all those times, he wasn't sure he could ever stop asking her. The idea he would never get to take her out to eat and order her favorite dessert. He wouldn't see a movie and wrap his arm around her shoulders and that was completely unfair. He wanted to offer his jacket to her when it rained and hold her hand while walking through a museum. "Poppy," he repeated.

She bit her lip, her lips opening and closing like she wasn't sure which word was going to pop out. “I can’t,” she whispered. Her eyes looking at him in a way that he could read right through her. They screamed at him, please don’t stop asking me.

As if he could ever. Harry smiled. "Okay," he shrugged, hope and adoration for her flooding him. "I'll ask again tomorrow."

A sad smile graced her face. "You're crazy," she whispered again.

"Only 'bout you, Poppy.”

*

Harry felt like he was getting sick. Probably due to the sweet girl in his apartment who had worn herself so thin and weary that she had inadvertently brought illness home to him. His head was killing him. His pillow was calling for him the way he wished his favorite stubborn woman would call him.

He didn't even know if she was home. But honestly, he was glad. If she knew he was sick, she would dote on him. Even if she was starting to fell unwell. The thoughts of her were never too far from his mind. He would never be too sick, too lost, too far away from her that she could leave his thoughts.

Sleeping was one of his favorite hobbies because he loved to see her in his dreams. Loved to see the unaffected, carefree, beautiful, stubborn woman. The angel that enjoyed affection both giving and receiving.

It was his nightly dream. The one where she snuggled with him, and it was like they had been together twenty years and not zero. The one where he could taste her lips (even if in his dream she tasted like nothing) he knew it was wrong. She probably tasted like chocolate or caramel or something deliriously sweet.

Unfortunately, his phone vibrated below his pillow pulling him from his perfect beautiful dream.

“Harry?”

He squinted at his phone. Head aching, throat sore. Curious as to why he didn’t have the number saved. “Speaking.”

“Oh, thank god,” the voice sighed. “It’s Joey,” she said. “Harry. Something’s wrong. She won’t stop crying and she won’t say anything but your name.”

He leapt out of bed. Illness forgotten even if he was dizzy. His heart thudded like a chorus of drums, and he didn’t even grab shoes as he raced out of his room, snagging his wallet and keys off the counter as he exited the apartment.

He listened to Joey say a few more things. Something about being out at a club. She never left the bar area. There was no way someone had hurt her. But Harry drove through the night with his heart in his throat like someone had hurt her. He wasn’t sure seeing her would even calm him. He knew where Joey lived, fortunately, so he sped as quickly as he could. The ache in his head and his throat was lost behind him along the drive.

He didn’t knock as he hurried barefoot into Joey’s apartment. Matt was coming from the kitchen and making his way down the hall. He looked at Harry sadly as he approached the main room.

“Poppy?” he whispered as he entered the room, her arms wrapped around herself like she was trying to hold herself together. "Kitten," he frowned and knelt in front of her. He picked her face up between his and he scanned her looking for signs of injury. Anxiety was in every inch of his body. But she fell into his arms before he could look any longer. Sobbing harder than when he entered. “M'here. M'here, baby. It’s okay. M'here," he kissed the top of her head, cupping the back of her head with one hand. The other arm winding around her and squeezing her tight to his body. “Oh kitten,” he sighed, sadness coating his voice. His heart ached. Like it was going to snap in half if she cried any longer. “M’sorry, baby. M'here. S’okay. Tell me. Please. I’ll make it better,” he promised.

Her sobs continued, like she was unable to speak. "Harry," she whimpered.

"M'here, Poppy, s'okay," he assured her even if it wasn't. "Baby," he frowned pulling away to look at her her tearful eyes. He tugged her back to his embrace and continued to soothe her. He rubbed his hand up and down her back hoping it was comforting as he hoped it was.

Harry caught Joey's eye, who looked over from the entryway and smiled weakly.

"You good?" She mouthed. Harry nodded and when he glanced back, her friend was gone.

*

Harry kissed the top of her head for the hundredth time. He continued rubbing his hand down her spine. His head was still screaming.

But she was well worth it. Her cheeks were streaked with salt lines. Her eyes puffy and red around the edges. He had pulled her to him so they could snuggle into the corner of the couch. Her body tucked between the back cushion and Harry's body. Like he didn't want anyone to see her if they entered the room.

“Harry?” Her voice was raw.

“Hmm?” He tucked her hair behind her ear and skimmed his fingertip along the same path repeatedly.

“Will you go on a date with me?” She whispered.

He smiled lazily. His heart exploding in his ribcage. “God, Poppy, I don't know. I have t'check m'schedule.” She smacked his chest with no weight behind it. He kissed the top of her head. “I’d take y’right now. Whenever y’want.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Nothing t’be sorry for.”

"I have issues."

"We can work on them together."

"I don't know if you'll..." She trailed off.

"If I'll what?" He brushed his thumb on her cheek.

She took a deep breath. "I love love, Harry. I love watching people get married. I love when people have babies and grow a family. I want to have babies. I love reading romance novels and watching silly rom-coms where you can predict the ending before the movie even starts."

"Sounds pretty romantic and easy, Poppy," he murmured.

She swallowed continuing. "I will do a lot for you because I believe that's the way love is supposed to be. I want to make your life easier, and I want to do things that make you happy because I think happiness and love are in short supply and I want those books and rom-coms to be real."

Harry nodded. "Well—"

"I've never had that. I had a boyfriend for four years and..." she sniffled. "When we broke up, I said that I wouldn't do that again. I wouldn’t devote myself so completely to someone that wouldn't give me half as much. Then I met my next boyfriend and at first, I thought it was right, finally. It was equal. He loved me the right way, I mean. The way I thought I wanted, deserved... But then it was like he got tired of doing things. I don't know. Maybe my love language is acts of service. I don't know. I’m not making sense, I'm sorry. But..." she swallowed. "I broke it off after only two years that time. I just don't think I can be loved the right way... not forever. I don't know. I sound so selfish, don’t I? I don’t know why you want to go out with me so badly. I want someone to love me the way I love them, and I don’t think that’s...fair."

It was why she always had everything. Why she planned and hosted parties. Why she never drank and always took care of her friends. She loved everyone that was lucky to cross paths with her, with her whole, big, beautiful heart.

Harry tilted her chin up. "M’going to love you the right way,” he promised. “M’going to love you the way y’want because that's what y’deserve. If I love you anything less than you deserve then... well... I don't know what, Poppy. If that’s the case m’probably dead because s’the only possible explanation,” she snorted and tears dripped down her cheeks again but not like the night before. “But it's not going to be a problem, kitten. M’going to love you the way your books love. The way a rom-com loves. M’going to love you the way you love everyone that walks into your life. The way you so selflessly devote your kindness to them. M’going to love you the way you love," he promised. “Because s’an honor to love you,” he assured her. “S’an honor to be loved by you.”

She looked away from his gaze, closed her eyes and pressed her forehead to his chest. His throat was aching again. He was really tired, but he would suffer her wrath and frustration of going on about this later. He knew that she would be beside herself knowing he was sick and dealing with her anyway. But where else would he be? "Harry," she whispered finally. He met her eyes the back of his fingers skimming her cheek.

"What, Poppy?"

"Do you love me already?"

"Of course I do."

She sniffled, her face crumpling with relief. Like all of it had been a trick up until then. "Okay," she whispered. “Can we go home?”

“Course, kitten,” he kissed the top of her head and moved slowly to get up from the sofa. All of his muscles ached from sickness and from the awkward but perfect position of holding her all night in the cramped little space.

He held his hand out for her to take as she stood next. “Harry,” she whispered softly.

“Hmm?” He hummed and looked at her with a soft expression that made her stomach flip, her heart skipped a beat. "Yeah, Poppy?"

“I’m in love with you too.”

--

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[utterlyazriel]

featherlight touch

a/n: and what if i said surprise smut. what then :) my soft launch of the fact i can and do write smut... <3 word count: easy peasy barely over 1k-squeezy synopsis: Given particular knowledge, you try something new. wing!fic

Your knees sink into the black satin sheets of Azriel’s bed and you sigh contently.

Across the room at the window, the curtain is haphazardly drawn, letting in a curious ray of moonlight. A dim glow lights the room.

You’re thankful for it now—the moonlight allowing you to drink in the sight beneath you with a ravenous gaze. Thighs straddling across his hips, you take in Azriel under you with, what can only be described as, ardent hunger.

But, well, it’s not often enough you get to be on top, after all.

Azriel’s wings splay out on the bed, gloriously on display. His scarred hands rest easily on your waist. His hazel eyes, narrowed in a suspicious way, are focused entirely on you. He, as always, looks devastatingly handsome.

“I’m not sure if I like the look of that look.” He comments slyly, shifting his head to flick a stray curl back from his eyes.

His hands on your waist give a gentle squeeze, as if to reassure you that he’s only teasing. His shadows lurk, traversing the rumpled bedsheets with a lazy designation, unbothered.

“Oh, hush,” you respond. “As if I haven’t been on the receiving end of this before.”

At the mere mention of your reversed positions, Azriel grins, even as a hot glow takes to his cheeks. The dusty rose colour sets a warm spark off in your chest and the heat wastes no time heading south, between your thighs.

Your relationship with Azriel is of the newer side, despite how long you've actually known each other. Long time friends, eventually, finally turned lovers.

But these new steps forward together, getting to know each other in an entirely new way—it's still enough to make Azriel fluster. Centuries old he is but a bashful shyness still remains, if only you can coax it out.

Bringing you back to the moment, Azriel squeezes your waist again, one hand shifting across your skin, his thumb dipping closer to your waistband.

“I don’t know what you mean,” He says, even as his satisfied smile gives him away. He watches closely as you pluck up his large hand and move it back to your waist, the message clear. He's not in charge tonight.

“Y’know,” you say, voice softer suddenly.

You haven’t let go on his hand. As you speak, you let your fingers travel down his veined and chiseled forearm slowly. “I learnt something today. From Feyre.”

Azriel watches you intently, the very feel of your skin across his enough to make him shudder in muted pleasure. No one touches him like you do.

Goosebumps break out along his arm as your hand reaches his bulging bicep and you drag your nails across it lightly.

“Is that so?”

Despite all his body betrays him, Azriel is a master at keeping his face and voice cool and calm. You smile at the sight of it, goaded on by his unwavering voice, and let your hand linger, resting on his collarbone.

“What did she tell you?” Azriel asks, his dark brows raising.

Purposefully, you shift your hips an inch, grinding against his own. Azriel barely manages to hide the grunt it pulls from him, his fingers flexing against your waist as if he’s resisting something more.

“She told me,” You say, dragging out the words, sultry and low.

Your hand begins to move, tracing the line of his defined chest and feeling it heave slightly beneath your touch. Tantalisingly slow, you let it trail down, skimming across his toned stomach where you pause.

“That if I ask you nicely, there’s a certain spot—”

Your teasing, trailing touch moves sideways, dipping down his ribcage and nearing his wings. They rustle against the sheets, a minuscule motion, that you hope is in what’s anticipation.

If what Feyre said is true...

Moving slow, so there’s time for him to interrupt you, you reach down and hover your hand over the delicate membrane of his wings.

Intentions clear, your eyes dart to Azriel’s to check.

Pupils blow wide, the ring of hazel you love so much barely visible, Azriel looks debauched before you've even begun. His hands are stilled on your waist and his cheeks are that same glowing scarlet. After a beat it becomes clear he’s waiting, not stopping you.

Grinning, you take your cue.

Brushing your fingers gently across a section of his wings, the reaction is instantaneous.

Azriel shudders, his whole body shivering as a strangled breath passes through his clenched jaw, his eyes fluttering closed. The hands on your waist constrict, tightening his grip, and beneath you his hips shift up, into you.

The shape of him, pulsating and hot, suddenly feels much firmer than before.

“She’s—right.” The words come out in two stilted breaths, Azriel’s chest rising and falling a little faster now as he fights to compose himself. His eyes open, heavier lidded than they were a moment ago. His tongue darts out to wet his lips.

"Is she?" Your voice is lilted in mock uncertainty, given away by your mischievous grin. "I think I better check again."

This time, instead of a small brush, you try something bolder. Two fingers on either side of a prominent vein, you draw a delicate stripe up his wing.

Azriel whines— a soft, pitiful noise that leaks out through his clenched teeth. It melts into a soft groan as his whole body shifts, his hips shoving up, seemingly out of his control. His hands pull you down at the time, dragging you forward against his hardness.

Something fiercely hot simmers in your gut, both at the friction and his glorious reaction. He's been fucking holding out on you.

"I don't know, I'm still not sure..." You continue, far too delighted to abuse your newfound knowledge.

Stroking another soft line up his wing, this time you're rewarded with a needy whimper. His chest arches up, his head thrown back lightly—nearly writhing in pleasure from just a few touches.

"Oh, Az," You murmur, half consoling and half wicked. His screwed up eyes take a moment to find yours and you relish the panting of his chest. The rosiness of his cheeks has spread, crawling down his neck and beginning along his toned chest.

"This your plan?" He says, but it's nowhere near that unwavering voice from earlier, raspy and on the way to ruined. "To—" He takes a sharp inhale as your nail scrapes the membrane again. "—to tease me all night?"

You're impressed he's got the words out, given the sight of him. His hair looks messier now. Paired with his heaving chest and eyes bright with lust, he looks downright sinful.

"Doesn't sound too bad a plan to me." You say, letting your hips draw forward, then back, the smallest rocking motion against him.

Azriel hisses, his large, scarred hands threatening to bruise your hips with how tight they grip them. He makes no attempt to stop you though.

"What do you think?"

You purposefully retract your hand, hovering it over his wing, and watch his face. Wings are very personal to Fae and Azriel letting you touch his own, in such an intimate way, was not lost on you.

You don't want to overstep, even if you do desperately want to see what happens if you stroke once, twice, three times in a row. Gods do you want to watch him fall apart beneath you, whimpering and whining through it all.

"I think you're a temptress," Azriel says, breathless. His eyes, heavy with desire, give away his answer. A grin spreads across your face, devious and enamoured all at once.

"A temptress you'll let have her way with you?"

"Depen—ah," His voice shudders into another whimper as you touch your fingertip back to his velvety wing, drawing a small circle.

Eyes crushing closed, it takes another moment for him to catch his breath before he speaks again, breath ragged. "Mother above..."

His wing, the one you've been taunting, rustles against the bed. It lifts up an inch before flapping down in an almost impatient motion. Like a cat, wagging its tail. Azriel wets his lips again, their skin cherried and plush.

"Alright," He says, faux begrudgingly. His eagerness is given away by another impatient rustle of his wing and the throbbing length of him, pressing firmly up against you.

His gives your waist another squeeze and then lets go, letting his arms fall lax to his side. Trusting you completely.

"Have your way with me."

[harrysfolklore]

secret - cs55

summary: carlos has been keeping his relationship secret for 6 months. the world has no idea that he's dating an a list actress

wc: 5.4k words + social media posts. face claim: emilia clarke

folkie radio: guys... why does it feel illegal to post a carlos fic that's not little bitch?? anyway i hope you like this LEAVE FEEDBACK !

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

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yourinstagram Spain, you have my heart ❤️

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username1 QUEEN

username2 she’s glowiiiing

arianagrande mother 🤎

username3 imagine being the highest paid actress in hollywood looking like that i wouldn’t take shit from anybody

florencepugh you’re the actual loml

↳ yourinstagram Love you baby flo

username4 single yn is glowing

username5 spain also has my heart but i’ve never been there i’m just obsessed with carlos sainz

username6 carlos sainz in the likes wbk he’s a fan since the first season of game of thrones

anasainzvdec 💓💓

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carlossainz55 Short break before heading to Silverstone 🇬🇧

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username1 HOTTEST MAN ALIVE

username2 carlos don’t do this to my ovaries

scuderiaferrari 🌶️🌶️

username3 if he is single who is taking all this boyfriend content

username4 THATS A HUSBAND

blancasainzv 🙌🙌🙌

username5 CARLOS LET ME JUMP ON YOUR BONES

username6 it’s a crime that this man is single looking like this (not really)

landonorris A family man

↳ georgerussell63 😂😂😂

↳ username1 carlando forever

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You stand in front of the mirror, applying the last touches of makeup as sunlight streams through the bedroom window. The reflection shows Carlos lounging on the bed behind you, his dark eyes following your every move. You can't help but smile, feeling the warmth of his gaze.

As you prepare to leave, your mind wanders to the whirlwind romance of the past six months. It all started with a tweet- Carlos expressing his admiration for your character in Game of Thrones. You hadn't known much about Formula 1 then, but his charm and genuine enthusiasm caught your attention.

Fate brought you together at a high-profile fashion event months later. You remember how your heart raced when he approached you, confidently asking for your number. Within days, he'd asked you out on a proper date.

Now, six months later, you're living in a blissful bubble of secrecy. Neither his fellow drivers nor your co-stars have any idea about your relationship. It's a mutual decision - you're both in the spotlight, and this connection feels too important to expose to the world's scrutiny just yet.

You've just returned from a short trip to Spain, where Carlos introduced you to his family. The warmth of their welcome still lingers, making you feel even more connected to him. His parents had embraced you immediately, and you'd spent hours laughing and sharing stories with his sisters. The trip reinforced the feeling that you truly belonged in Carlos' life.

"Do you really have to leave?" Carlos asks, his Spanish accent more pronounced in his sleepy state.

"You know I do, darling. This film isn't going to shoot itself," you turn to face him, taking in his tousled hair and bare chest.

Carlos props himself up on his elbows, a playful smirk on his lips. "But I can think of so many better ways to spend the day."

You walk over to the bed, leaning down to place a soft kiss on his lips. "Tempting, but I've got to go. We can't all race cars for a living, you know."

His hand catches yours as you start to pull away. "Just five more minutes?" he pleads, pulling you closer.

You allow yourself to be drawn in, sitting on the edge of the bed. "You're impossible," you say, but there's no real frustration in your voice.

"Impossible to resist, you mean," Carlos wraps an arm around your waist, nuzzling into your neck.

"That too," you laugh, running your fingers through his hair. "But seriously, I need to leave soon."

He sighs dramatically, flopping back onto the pillows. "Fine, fine. Go be a famous actress. Leave me here all alone."

"Drama queen," you roll your eyes, standing up. "You've got meetings later anyway."

As you gather your things, Carlos watches you with a mix of admiration and affection.

"You know," he says softly, "sometimes I still can't believe this is real. Us, I mean."

"It's real," you assure him, with a small smile, "And it's ours."

"I guess my obsession with Daenerys Targaryen paid off," Carlos grins, sitting up, "Though I have to say, the real you is even better than any character."

"Smooth talker. No wonder I fell for you so quickly," you roll your eyes playfully as you walk over to the bed, cupping his face in your hands. "As tempting as that is, love, we both have responsibilities. But tonight, it's just us."

He leans into your touch, then pulls you down for a deep kiss. When you part, both slightly breathless, he whispers, "I can't wait."

With a final blown kiss, you slip out of the room, your heart full and a smile on your lips. Another day of keeping your relationship under wraps begins, but you wouldn't have it any other way. Your mind is already counting down the hours until you can be in his arms again, safe in your private world built for two.

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ynupdates YN arriving for filming today in London!

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username1 MY BUBBB

username2 why so serious

username3 she has a movie premiering in two months and she’s already filming another talk about an icon

username4 love the fitttt

username5 streets say she’s got a boyfriend now 👀

↳ username1 source: trust me bro

↳ username2 SPILL THE DEETS

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

You sink into the plush couch in Carlos' living room, the aroma of your favorite pasta filling the air. This has become your ritual - intimate dinners at home, safe from prying eyes and camera flashes. Sometimes you cook together, but tonight you've ordered in from that little Italian place Carlos adores.

"This is perfect," you sigh contentedly as Carlos settles beside you, two plates balanced in his hands. "I'll take nosy neighbors over paparazzi any day."

"Agreed," Carlos chuckles, handing you your plate, "Though I'm pretty sure my neighbor thinks I've developed an unhealthy obsession with takeout."

"Little do they know you're just obsessed with me," you lean in, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

"Guilty as charged," he grins, pulling you closer.

As you eat, you share stories about your day. Carlos absently traces patterns on your knee, and you find yourself melting into his touch.

"Oh," you say, remembering suddenly. "My team suggested something interesting today."

"What would that be, amor?" Carlos raises an eyebrow, intrigued.

You take a sip of wine before answering. "They think it would be a good idea for me to attend the Silverstone Grand Prix."

For obvious reasons, you haven't been able to join Carlos for a race since your relationship began. The need for secrecy and your busy schedules have kept you from sharing this crucial part of his life.

So when your team suggested you should attend the British Grand Prix at Silverstone to promote your new movie, you felt a surge of excitement. The prospect of finally seeing Carlos in his element, even if you had to pretend not to know each other, made you giddy.

"Really? That's... wow," Carlos said, his eyes twinkling.

"Don't get too excited," you nudge him playfully. "We'll have to pretend we barely know each other, you know."

Carlos groans dramatically, flopping back against the couch. "You mean I can't sweep you off your feet in front of thousands of fans? How will I cope?"

You laugh, setting your plate aside to cuddle closer to him. "I'm sure you'll manage. Just think of it as acting practice for both of us."

He wraps an arm around you, his voice growing softer. "You know, I always imagined the first race you'd attend would be as my girlfriend. With everyone knowing how lucky I am."

"I know, love," your heart swells at his words. "But hey, we'll still be together, even if no one else knows it."

Carlos nods, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "You're right. And I am happy you'll be there. Even if I have to pretend I'm not crazy about you."

"Well, there's no pretending now," you look up at him, a mischievous glint in your eye. "Show me just how crazy about me you are."

With a playful growl, Carlos pulls you onto his lap, dinner forgotten as his lips find yours. In moments like these, the secrecy feels worth it - these moments are yours alone, untouched by the outside world.

As you break apart, slightly breathless, Carlos murmurs against your lips, "Maybe we can sneak a moment at Silverstone. A secret rendezvous in the paddock?"

"Now that would make headlines", you laugh, running your fingers through his hair. "'Famous actress and F1 star caught canoodling behind the garages.'"

"Worth it," Carlos grins, pulling you in for another kiss.

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carlossainz55 Beyond excited for Silverstone this weekend. Let’s do this 🙌

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username1 MY MAN

username2 he’s really the hottest man alive

scuderiaferrari We got this 😌

username3 SILVERSTONE MORE LIKE CARLOSTONE

username4 manifesting another silverstone win

username5 my girl yn in the likes she’s so real

landonorris 🥵🥵🥵🥵

↳ username1 these two being single right now just means they get to be menaces

↳ carlossainz55 Weird

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The early morning light filters through the curtains of your bedroom as you help Carlos adjust his red Ferrari hoodie. Your fingers linger on his shoulders, savoring these last private moments before the chaos of race day begins.

"Remember," you tease, smoothing down his collar, "hands to yourself out there, Sainz."

"That might be a challenge, amor," Carlos grins, his eyes sparkling, "Especially with you wearing my number."

You playfully swat his arm, adjusting the Ferrari cap with Carlos' number that sits atop your head. "I mean it. We've managed to keep this under wraps for six months. Let's not blow our cover now."

"Fine, fine," he pulls you close, nuzzling your neck, "But you owe me for this torture."

"Torture, is it?" you laugh, tilting your head to give him better access. "Such a dramatic driver I've fallen for."

"In all honesty," Carlos pulls back, his expression suddenly serious, "I wish I could shout it from the podium today. That I'm the luckiest man in the world because I have you."

"Soon," you promise, cupping his face. "For now, let's enjoy our little secret."

With a final, lingering kiss, Carlos reluctantly steps away. "I'd better go. See you out there, amor."

"Go get 'em, tiger."

Hours later, you arrive at the circuit, your stomach fluttering with nerves. The Ferrari cap with Carlos' number feels like a subtle declaration, a secret sign that only you and Carlos truly understand.

"We'll start with Ferrari," your manager explains. "Given your... interest in the team."

You nod, fighting to keep your expression neutral. If only she knew the real reason for your interest.

As you approach the Ferrari garage, you spot Charles Leclerc first. Carlos had told you stories about his teammate before – his skill on the track, his competitive nature, and his charming personality. Now, seeing him in person, you understand why he's such a fan favorite.

Charles notices you approaching and breaks into a warm smile. He steps forward, extending his hand. "Hello there! I'm Charles Leclerc. Big fan."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Charles," you shake his hand, returning the smile. "I've heard great things about you."

"All good, I hope," he chuckles. "Is this your first time at a Grand Prix?"

"It is! I'm thrilled to be here. The energy is incredible already."

"Oh, just wait until the race starts. There's nothing quite like it." He pauses, then adds, "Have you met my teammate yet? He's around here somewhere..."

As if on cue, you hear a familiar voice behind you. "Did someone mention me?"

Your heart skips a beat as Carlos approaches and it takes every ounce of your acting skills to keep your expression neutral as he extends his hand.

"Carlos Sainz," he introduces himself, a cocky smirk on his lips, "Welcome to our garage."

As you shake his hand, you're hyper-aware of every point of contact. This man knows every inch of you, has held you countless times, yet here you are, pretending to be strangers. It's thrilling and frustrating all at once.

"It's great to meet you both," you manage to say, proud of how steady your voice sounds. "I can't wait to see you race."

"Well I hope we make a good first impression," Carlos said, and the look in his eyes told you that it was taking everything in him to keep his hands away from you.

"Carlos is being modest," Charles chimes in. "He's had some of his best performances here. You might be in for a treat today."

You raise an eyebrow, glancing at Carlos. "Is that so? Well, now I'm even more excited to watch."

Carlos rubs the back of his neck, a gesture you know is partly genuine modesty and partly an act. "Charles exaggerates. But I'll do my best to put on a good show for you- I mean, for all the fans."

"I'm sure you both will," you say, including Charles in your gaze to avoid suspicion.

A crew member approaches, informing Carlos and Charles that they're needed for a pre-race briefing shortly, and at the same time, a photographer appears asking for a picture. You pose with Charles first and shortly after Carlos stands next to you, his hand almost squeezing your waist sending shivers down your spine.

After the photo, you reluctantly step away. "I should let you get to your briefing. Good luck in the race, gentlemen!"

As you walk away, Charles say to Carlos, "She's gorgeous, isn't she?"

Carlos feels a sudden pang of jealousy, fighting the urge to declare that you're his. Instead, he replies with a smug tone, "She certainly is. But remember, we're here to race, not to admire the guests."

You make your way to the McLaren garage, where you're introduced to Lando Norris, Carlos' best friend. Lando's infectious energy has you laughing within minutes. You can see why he and Carlos get along so well, and you find yourself wishing you could share stories about your boyfriend with his best friend.

As you're about to leave the McLaren garage, your phone buzzes with a text from Carlos.

Against your better judgment, you find yourself making excuses to your team and heading towards Carlos' driver's room. You slip inside, closing the door behind you and praying no one saw you.

Carlos is there in an instant, pulling you into his arms. "Dios mio, do you know how hard it was to keep my hands off you out there?"

"Behave yourself, Sainz," you laugh, melting into his embrace, "We have an image to maintain."

"Oh? And what image is that?" he pulls back, his eyes twinkling, "Because right now, all I can think about is how adorable you look in my cap."

"Flatterer," you tease, running your hands up his chest, admiring how the race suit fits him. "You don't look so bad yourself in this. First time I'm seeing it in person, you know."

Carlos grins, leaning in to brush his lips against yours. "Like what you see?"

"Maybe," you say coyly, pressing a kiss to his jaw. "But shouldn't you be focusing on the race?"

"You're killing me, hermosa," he groans dramatically, pulling you back against him, "How am I supposed to focus on driving when all I can think about is you?"

"Well," you suggest, "Maybe you need some motivation. Win the race, and I'll give you a proper celebration later."

"Now that's what I call incentive," he pecked your lips, and suddenly his eyes light up with an idea. He reaches for his phone. "Wait, I need a picture of you in that cap. My good luck charm."

You roll your eyes but pose anyway, tilting the cap at a jaunty angle. Carlos snaps the photo, grinning widely.

"Perfect," he says, showing you the result. "This is going to be my new favorite picture."

You're about to reply when a knock at the door makes you both freeze. "Carlos? Are you in there? Last pre-race briefing in two minutes," comes a voice from outside.

You stifle a giggle as Carlos calls back, "Be right there!"

He turns back to you, stealing one last passionate kiss before reluctantly stepping away. "This isn't over," he promises.

"I should hope not," you tease, straightening his collar. "Now go out there and make me proud."

As Carlos heads for the door, he pauses, looking back at you with a soft smile. "Te amo, YN."

"I love you too. Now go be the champion I know you are."

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f1world THESE TWO 🥹🥹🙌

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username1 AHHH THEY LOOK SO CUTE

username2 i bet carlos’ fanboy ass was shaking

username3 they look so good together hello????

username4 not yn zendaya-ing

username5 HER SMILE

username6 love them so much they should date

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yourinstagram SILVERSTONE. In another life I was a F1 driver. Yesterday I got to hang out with real ones and their pretty pretty cars. And I did not play it cool 😌

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username1 AHHHH ICON

username2 QUEEN OF THE PADDOCK

username3 she should go to every gp idc

scuderiaferarri You’re welcome anytime 🙌

username4 “got to hang out with real ones” and just posts carlos

username5 WHERE IS MY LANDO X YN PIC

emmacorrin 😍😍😍😍

username6 CARLOSYN YES

charles_leclerc Lovely to meet you 😘

↳ username1 and she didn’t post him help

carlossainz55 An absolute pleasure to chat with you 😉

↳ yourinstagram Likewise !

↳ username2 DATE

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carlossainz55 Triple header done, time to recharge and come back stronger in Hungary! 💪🏻

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username1 CHILIIIIII

username2 of course he was going to post his pic with yn he's such a fanboy

username3 ICONS IN THE THIRD PIC

scuderiaferrari Always the Smooth Operator 🌶️

username4 YN'S FACE IN THE THIRD PIC

username5 i ship carlos and yn

username6 i like the british gp bc actual cool celebrities attend not like the miami gp

yourinstagram Amazing weekend ❤️

↳ username1 HELLOOOOOO

deuxmoi has added to their stories

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After the excitement of Silverstone, reality had set in quickly. You had to fly to Switzerland for your latest film project, while Carlos was called to Maranello for team duties. The goodbye had been bittersweet.

Now, a week later, you're on set in Switzerland, immersed in the world of your latest film. The day has been long, filled with intense scenes and multiple takes. As you trudge back to your trailer, your mind wanders to your boyfriend, wishing you could share the day's triumphs and frustrations with him, but he was miles away.

You open the trailer door, lost in thought, and nearly jump out of your skin when you see a figure inside. Your heart rate skyrockets, then immediately settles as you recognize the familiar silhouette.

"Carlos?" you whisper, a mix of shock and joy coursing through you. "What are you doing here?"

He turns, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Surprise, baby!"

You rush into his arms, all exhaustion forgotten as he envelops you in a warm embrace. The familiar scent of his cologne wraps around you, and you feel the tension in your body melt away.

But as quickly as the joy comes, worry follows. You pull back slightly, glancing nervously at the door. "Carlos, how did you even get in here what if someone sees you? We can't risk-"

He silences your concerns with a gentle kiss. "Relax, amor. I was careful. No one saw me come in."

Despite your worries, you can't help but lean into him again, savoring the feeling of being in his arms after a week apart.

"I've missed you," you murmur against his chest.

"I've missed you too," he replies, his fingers tracing soothing patterns on your back, "It's like I'm addicted to you, I can't be apart from you for too long."

You look up at him, taking in the warmth in his brown eyes, the slight stubble on his jaw that you love to trace with your fingers. The realization of how much you've missed him hits you all at once, and you pull him down for a deeper kiss.

When you part, both slightly breathless, you can't help but laugh softly. "This is crazy, you know. What if my co-stars come knocking?"

"Then I'll hide in the closet like a teenager sneaking around. It'll be exciting."

He shrugged and you playfully swat his arm, but you can't deny the thrill of having him here, in your space, surrounded by the world of your work.

"How long can you stay?" you ask, hoping against hope that it's more than just a fleeting visit.

"I have to leave early tomorrow," he says, a hint of regret in his voice, "I know it's not much time together but I really needed to see you, kiss you, just be with you."

"I have to go back to filming now," you say reluctantly. "But I'll be done in a few hours."

Carlos nods understandingly. "Go, cariño. I'll wait here in your trailer. Maybe I'll raid your snack stash," he adds with a playful wink.

You laugh, giving him one last quick kiss before heading out. "Behave yourself, Sainz."

The rest of your filming flies by, your spirits lifted by the knowledge that Carlos is waiting for you. As soon as the director calls wrap, you hurry back to your trailer, your heart racing with anticipation.

Carlos is lounging on your small couch when you return, scrolling through his phone. He looks up as you enter, his face breaking into a warm smile. "There's my star."

You collapse into his arms, sighing contentedly. "I still can't believe you're here."

After a few moments of just holding each other, you both decide it's time to head to your hotel. You peek out of the trailer, checking if the coast is clear.

"Okay, I think we're good," you whisper, grabbing Carlos' hand and making a dash for it.

You weave between trailers and equipment, your hearts pounding with a mix of excitement and nervousness. Just as you're about to round the final corner to the parking lot, you spot a crew member heading your way.

"Quick, behind here," Carlos whispers urgently, pulling you behind a large lighting rig.

You both hold your breath as the crew member passes by, mere feet from your hiding spot. Once they're gone, you share a look of relief and almost burst out laughing at the same time. The situation was definitely comic.

As you make your final dash to your car, you hear a surprised voice calling your name from behind you. Turning slightly, you see one of the production assistants, their eyes wide with surprise as they take in the sight of you and Carlos hand-in-hand.

Without stopping, you give a quick wave and a "Goodnight!" before practically diving into your car. Carlos follows suit, and you peel out of the parking lot perhaps a bit faster than necessary. Thank god you're not the race car driver in the relationship.

Once you're on the road, you let out a long breath. "Well, that was close,"

"It's okay, amor," Carlos reaches over to squeeze your hand reassuringly, "Even if they saw us, it doesn't have to mean anything."

"But what if they start asking questions?" you glance at him, unconvinced, "Or worse, what if they tell someone? Deuxmoi is already onto us after Silverstone, what if someone tips them?"

"I still don't understand what Deuxmoi is," Carlos looked at you with confusion, which made you laugh, "But we'll deal with it. Remember, we haven't done anything wrong. We're just two people who care about each other."

You nod, trying to let his words calm you. "I know, I know. It's just... I'm not ready for the world to know yet. To have our relationship picked apart and speculated about."

Carlos brings your hand to his lips, kissing it softly. "I understand. And we'll do everything we can to keep our privacy."

"Okay," you agree, offering him a small smile. "Thank you for always knowing how to calm me down."

"It's because I love you," Carlos says simply, his eyes warm as they meet yours at a stoplight.

The rest of the drive passes in comfortable conversation. By the time you reach the hotel, you're feeling much more relaxed, ready to enjoy your time together.

As you park the car, Carlos turns to you with a mischievous grin. "Now, shall we make another escape to your room, or do you think we can manage to walk in like normal people this time?"

"I think we can risk it. But if anyone asks, you're just my very attractive Swiss tour guide."

"Tour guide, huh?" Carlos waggles his eyebrows. "I can think of a few places I'd like to show you."

Rolling your eyes affectionately, you get out of the car. "Come on, horndog. Let's go before you get us into more trouble."

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by username1, username2 and 26,839 others

gossiphub Guess who got caught sneaking out of a movie set in Switzerland? None other than actress YN and Ferrari driver Carlos Sainz! 📸 These two were seen holding hands and looking super close. Could this be the start of a new power couple? What are your thoughts?

view all 2,836 comments

username1 OMFGGGG

username2 AH I KNEW IT

username3 this was expected after silverstone

username4 THE POWER THIS HOLDS

username5 the couple we didn’t know we needed

username6 YALL what if they’ve been actually dating for longer 😭

username7 I NEED MORE OF THIS

liked by username1, username2 and 16,839 others

sainznews “YN is someone I admire a lot. Right now, though, I'm fully focused on the season and my performance on the track. I prefer to keep my personal life separate from my professional life.” -Carlos today !

view all 1,022 comments

username1 BROOOO

username2 he said you’re NAWT getting details

username3 bold of the interviewer to ask 😭

username4 i really want them to be a couple but maybe they’re just friends

username5 COME ON SPILL THE DEETS

username6 oh well

username7 his ass was shaking

liked by carlossainz55, blakelively and 2,309,681 others

yourinstagram The train ride home ❣️

view all 29,036 comments

username1 iconic behavior

username2 girl come here address the rumors

gemmachan A beauty 🤍🤍

daisyedgarjones 🥹🥹

username3 i love that both of them are just playing dumb

username4 CARLOS IN THE LIKES

username5 ah shit they’re not going to confirm anything

username6 CARLOSYN IS REAL

username7 potential it couple and they’re playing dumb

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The headlines hit like a tidal wave after your Swiss rendezvous. "A List Actress Spotted with F1 Star Carlos Sainz!" "YN and Carlos Sainz: Secret Romance?" Paparazzi photos of your flooded gossip sites and social media. Fans and media alike dissecting every detail of the grainy images.

You and Carlos spent hours on the phone, figuring out your response. "Maybe we should just confirm it," Carlos suggested one night, his voice tinged with frustration.

"Not yet," you replied, biting your lip. "Let's wait for it to die down a bit. We don't owe them an explanation."

So you played it cool, neither confirming nor denying the rumors. Carlos deflected questions at press conferences with his characteristic charm, while you posted on social media as if nothing had changed. It was stressful, constantly looking over your shoulders, but you managed to keep your relationship under wraps for a little longer.

However, as the world premiere of your movie approached, you made a decision. Curled up on the couch with Carlos during a rare weekend together, you turned to him, tracing patterns on his chest.

"I've been thinking," you started, your heart racing.

Carlos looked at you, his eyes soft. "About what, cariño?"

You took a deep breath. "I want you to come with me to the premiere. As my date. I'm ready for the world to know about us."

Carlos' face lit up with pure joy. He sat up, pulling you onto his lap. "Really? You're sure about this?"

"I'm sure," you nodded, cupping his face, "I love you, Carlos. I'm tired of hiding it."

He peppered your face with kisses, unable to contain his excitement. "I love you too, YN. So much. You have no idea how happy this makes me."

"I think I have some idea," you teased, gesturing to his beaming face.

Carlos pulled you closer, his forehead resting against yours. "No more sneaking around? No more pretending we're just friends?"

"No more," you confirmed.

He kissed you deeply, pouring all his love and excitement into it. When you parted, both slightly breathless, Carlos grinned. "So, do I get to coordinate my tie with your dress?"

"Is that all you're thinking about? Fashion?" you rolled your eyes affectionately.

"No," he replied, his eyes twinkling. "I'm also thinking about how I get to show off the most beautiful, talented woman in the world as my girlfriend."

The night of the premiere arrived quicker than you expected. Carlos looked devastatingly handsome in a sharp black suit, his hair perfectly styled. As you put the finishing touches on your makeup, you caught him watching you in the mirror, his eyes full of adoration.

"What?" you asked, suddenly self-conscious.

He shook his head, smiling softly. "Nothing. I just can't believe how lucky I am."

In the limo on the way to the theater, Carlos took your hand, his thumb tracing soothing circles on your skin. "Nervous?" he asked.

You nodded, letting out a shaky breath. "A little. You?"

"Excited," he replied, bringing your hand to his lips for a soft kiss. As the limo approached the theater, you could already hear the roar of the crowd. Carlos pulled you close, pressing a tender kiss to your temple. "Remember, no matter what happens out there, it's just you and me. Okay?"

"You and me."

The limo door opened, and suddenly you were blinded by camera flashes. Carlos stepped out first, then turned to offer you his hand. As you emerged, the crowd's volume doubled. Carlos kept his hand on the small of your back, a constant reassuring presence as you made your way down the carpet.

When you reached the photo spot, he pulled you close, his arm wrapping securely around your waist. The crowd went wild, cameras clicking furiously. You could hear reporters shouting questions, but you focused on Carlos, on the warmth of his touch and the love in his eyes.

As you made your way down the carpet, Carlos couldn't seem to keep his hands off you. He'd lean in to in your ear, his hand never leaving your waist. At one point, he pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, sending the photographers into a frenzy.

You stopped for a few interviews, Carlos by your side the whole time. When asked about your relationship, you simply smiled and said, "We're very happy together." Carlos would beam at you, his pride evident in every glance.

By the time you entered the theater, you were both giddy with excitement and relief. As you took your seats, Carlos leaned over, his lips brushing your ear. "You were amazing out there. I love you so much."

You turned to him, your heart full. "I love you too. Thank you for being here with me."

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by username1, username2 and 20,836 others

gossiphub 🚨🚨CARLOS SAINZ AND YN HAVE ARRIVED TOGETHER AT HER PREMIERE IN LONDON

view all 3,048 comments

username1 OMGGGGG

username2 I CANNOT BELIEVE MY EYES

username3 IT WAS REAL ALL THIS TIME

username4 power couple of the century

username5 they look so cunty omg f1 needed a couple like this

username6 FACE ECONOMY TOGETHER

username7 IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS TIME

liked by carlossainz55, landonorris and 2,974,644 others

yourinstagram My handsome date 🥰

view all 27,635 comments

username1 AHHHHH

username2 CARLOS I WASNT FAMILIAR WITH YOUR GAME

username3 man he is so HOT

andrewgarfield Can you get me tickets for a Grand Prix?

↳ username1 HEEEEELP

↳ yourinstagram 🙄🙄🙄

↳ carlossainz55 You’re welcome anytime, mate!

username4 yn blessing us with boyfriend carlos content already

username5 this relationship is the best thing that happened to us

landonorris Oh he showers

↳ maxverstappen1 Really impressive

↳ username1 THE GRID IS HERE

↳ carlossainz55 Cabrones

carlossainz55 I love you mi amor ❤️❤️

↳ yourinstagram 🥹

liked by yourinstagram, charles_leclerc and 1,937,267 others

carlossainz55 My 👸❤️

view all 29,022 comments

username1 OH LORDDD

username2 SIMP CARLOS

username3 he’s so in love my heart

scuderiaferarri ❤️

anasainzvdec Hermosa!

blancasainzv 🤍🤍🤍

username4 this relationship is a blessing for real

username5 CARLOS POSTING HIS GF???? HIS A LIST ACTRESS GF ?????

username6 i love them sm

username7 how long do you think he waited before turning his insta into a fanpage of her

fernandoalo_oficial 👏👏👏

pierregasly Double dates?

↳ francisca.cgomes PRETTY PLEASE

↳ yourinstagram Absolutely 🥰

yourinstagram I loveeeeeee youuuuu

↳ carlossainz55 ❤️

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The Dutch Grand Prix in Zandvoort, the first race after the summer break. You were attending again, but this time, you walked into the paddock hand-in-hand with Carlos. There was no need for secrecy. You were here as his girlfriend, and the world knew it.

Fans call out your names as you make your way through the paddock, and you both wave, Carlos' arm protectively around your waist. The comfort of being able to show your affection openly still feels thrilling.

As you approach the Ferrari garage, you spot Charles chatting with some engineers. He turns and breaks into a wide grin at the sight of you two.

"Well, well, if it isn't the happy couple!" Charles calls out, walking over to greet you.

"Charles, I don't think you've been properly introduced to my girlfriend yet," Carlos laughs, pulling you closer.

You exchange pleasantries, and then Charles shakes his head, chuckling. "You know, I feel terrible now. I literally wanted to ask you out that day at Silverstone because I had no idea you were together!"

You all share a laugh at the irony, and Carlos playfully narrows his eyes at his teammate. "Watch it, Leclerc. She's taken."

"Be nice, darling," you swat Carlos' arm lightly, "Charles is just being honest."

As you watched Carlos chat animatedly with his teammate, you couldn't help but feel a sense of rightness. This was where you belonged, by Carlos' side, sharing in his world.

"Carlos, we need you for a quick strategy briefing," the engineer said, glancing at his watch.

Carlos nodded, then turned to you with an apologetic smile. "Duty calls, amor. I shouldn't be too long."

"No worries," you assured him. "I'll find ways to entertain myself."

He leaned in, kissing you softly. "I'll text you when I'm done," he promised, then followed his engineer out of the room.

With some time to kill, you decided to explore the paddock. It felt liberating to walk around openly, no longer worried about being spotted or sparking rumors. As you passed the McLaren garage, a familiar voice called out to you.

"Well, if it isn't Mrs. Smooth Operator herself!"

You turned to see Lando Norris grinning at you, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

"Lando!" you greeted him warmly. "How are you?"

"I'm good, but more importantly, how are you?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. "Finally free from the chains of secrecy, eh?"

You recalled the night when the headlines about your relationship with Carlos had broken, and Lando had been the first to reach out. That evening, over dinner at your place, you and Carlos had shared the story of your six-month secret romance with him. Lando had been surprisingly supportive, and since then, he'd become a close confidant and ally.

You chatted with him for a bit, he was someone always fun to talk to and you were happy Carlos had someone like him in his life.

Just then, your phone buzzed with a text from Carlos.

"Let me guess," Lando said, a knowing smirk on his face. "Lover boy is calling?"

You rolled your eyes good-naturedly. "As a matter of fact, yes. I should probably go."

"Go on then," Lando shooed you away playfully, "Go be disgustingly in love somewhere else."

You laughed, giving him a quick hug before heading towards the Ferrari hub. As you walked, you felt happy to be able to walk openly into his private space without worrying about prying eyes or rumors.

You knocked softly on the door of his driver's room. "Come in," Carlos called out.

As you entered, you found Carlos sitting on the small couch, still in his casual team gear. He looked up, his face breaking into a warm smile as he saw you.

"Hey you," he said, standing up and crossing the room to pull you into an embrace.

"Hey yourself," you replied, melting into his arms. "How are you feeling?"

Carlos pulled back slightly, his hands resting on your waist. "Better now that you're here," he said, his eyes twinkling.

You laughed softly, reaching up to smooth a stray lock of hair from his forehead. "Charmer. But really, how are you?"

He took a deep breath, his expression turning more serious. "A little nervous, if I'm honest. The pressure is high here."

"That's natural," you nodded understandingly, your hand coming to rest on his cheek, "But Carlos, you're amazing. You've got this."

"Thank you, cariño," he leaned into your touch, his eyes closing briefly, "Your support means everything to me."

For a moment, you both stood there in comfortable silence, foreheads touching, breathing each other in. There was no rush, no fear of discovery. Just the two of you, sharing a quiet moment before the storm of the race.

"I love that we can do this now," you murmured, breaking the silence. "No sneaking around, no looking over our shoulders."

Carlos smiled, pulling you closer. "Me too. It feels right, doesn't it? Having you here with me, openly by my side."

You nodded, your heart swelling with emotion. "It does. I'm so proud to be with you, Carlos. To support you."

His eyes softened, and he leaned in, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. You responded eagerly, pouring all your love and support into the gesture.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you too," you replied, your fingers tracing patterns on the back of his neck.

A knock on the door interrupted your moment. "Ten minutes, Carlos," came a voice from outside.

"I should go," you said reluctantly, but Carlos held onto your hand.

"Stay with me?" he asked, a hint of vulnerability in his voice. "Just for a few more minutes?"

You nodded, squeezing his hand. "Of course."

You sat together on the small couch, Carlos's arm around you, your head resting on his shoulder. No words were needed; your presence was enough to calm his pre-race nerves.

As the minutes ticked by, you felt Carlos take a deep breath, his body shifting as he prepared mentally for the race ahead.

"Time to go be a superhero," you said softly, lifting your head to meet his gaze.

Carlos smiled, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before standing up. "Wait for me at the finish line?"

"Always."

liked by carlossainz55, zendaya and 2,648,937 others

yourinstagram Heart eyes for my smooth operator 🥰

view all 28,044 comments

username1 AWEEEE

username2 she’s down bad

arianagrande glowiiiing ✨

username3 couple of the century

username4 i love how they were keeping it lowkey but now they can’t stop posting each other as they should

scuderiaferarri Our paddock queen ❤️

username5 yn don’t get used to the ferrari red you’ll be wearing blue next year

username6 GET MARRIED ALREADY

anasainzvdec 😍

username7 every time the camera showed her she was either panicking or grinning from ear to ear I LOVE HER

carlossainz55 Mi amor 🤍

↳ username1 CARLOSSS

↳ username2 that should be me

liked by yourinstagram, landonorris and 1,026,388 others

carlossainz55 P10 ➡️ P5! Beyond happy to share the race with my love @/yourinstagram 😘 Special weekend ahead at Monza, can’t wait to race in front of our Tifosi!

view all 19,739 comments

username1 AHHHHHH

username2 BEST COUPLE EVER

username3 YN DID HOT LAPS WITH CARLOS !!!!

↳ username1 BEST VIDEO EVER

↳ username2 I LOVE THEM SO BAD

scuderiaferarri The Tifosi awaits ❤️

anasainzvdec 🙌

username4 VAMOS CARLITOS

username5 yn and carlos sainz dating is the best thing ever

charles_leclerc 👌👌👌

yourinstagram I love you 🥰🥰 I could get used to this

↳ username1 QUEEN NEVER LEAVE THE PADDOCK

↳ username2 we need her at every race

[ittybittyfanblog]

Error 404: (Self-Aware!AU, Sylus Edition)

Summary: A LADS self-aware!AU featuring Sylus (+ maybe the other MLs!) and an oblivious player. That’s it, that’s the plot. Tags: player!reader x sylus, fem!reader x sylus, reader x lads, maybe some suggestive language?? will add more tags as the story progresses A/N: This is gonna be a multi-chapter fic! I’m still not sure whether to do the boys in rotation, or just focus on one ML per series. Don’t take my word for it atp tho – I’m not even sure if I can actually finish a series lol.  Also, I’ve had the creative liberty of changing stuff from the actual gameplay here and there. (Except for the self-awareness. That’s most definitely real.) Hope you enjoy~!

Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Pt. 3 - Pt. 4 - Pt. 5 - Pt. 6 - Pt. 7 - Pt. 8 - Pt. 9 - Pt. 10

It’s a quarter past eight and you’re still on your desk working overtime on a Friday night. 

You let out a big sigh, leaning back on your office chair after an unhealthy duration of bad posture from hours of slouching down in front of your computer. There’s nothing ergonomic about the way this job is killing you, and the ache in your lower back can attest to that. 

An irate orange tabby plops himself in front of you, blocking your view of the glaring screen and you figure that it’s time for a break. 

“Me-oow.”

“I know, I know,” You answer tiredly, standing up to dodge a stray paw clawing your way and you hear cracks in three different places that are honestly unbecoming of a woman your age. You haven’t even reached thirty yet, for god’s sake. “I’m a bad mother. But mom also had to skip dinner to make it to the seven PM meeting, so cut me some slack, okay?” 

A high-pitched “meooowr!” is the only response you get; it seems like there’s no excusing late dinner time this time around. 

As much as you’d like to hem and haw and complain, the main reason why you’re still keeping this job is because you can work remotely. If it weren’t for the fact that you’re stuck most days at home working hours past your regular nine to five, having to be on-call around the clock at all times, and that you’ve consumed more sodium than a nitrite victim with the way you live off cup ramen, then, really, it beats working in an office where you’d physically have to clock in and out from exactly nine to five. 

Your right eye twitches. No, I have not fallen in love with the system that exploits me, thank you very much. 

“Here is your Fancy Feast, your highness,” you tell the hungry feline who’s already ignoring the hand that feeds for the bowl full of white fish paté. He eats healthier than you, sure, but you work like this for him to eat like this. The life of a single mom is an uphill battle, but extremely rewarding. 

You raise your hand to pat your son’s head lovingly, aborting the gesture halfway when you hear a warning growl. Alright, tough crowd. 

After nuking a half-eaten takeout box in the microwave and grabbing a cold Bundaberg from the fridge, you hunker down on the “chaise lounge” (see: an old wingback and a rattan ottoman you’ve refurbished as a makeshift seat a few weeks back when you had guests over) for a late meal. 

You barely register the taste of lukewarm rice on your tongue, mouth moving mechanically while your mind runs on autopilot about everything and nothing at the same time. 

Maybe it’s time to check Jobstreet again

Is there like a laundromat near the area that’s open twenty four seven

Eugh, I hate cold peas

What do we feel about Chromakopia? 

I will… die alone

I really need to stock on some fresh produce this weekend—

Ping! 

A notification from your phone pulls you out of your thoughts—and like a well-trained dog pavlov’d into responding, you visibly perk up at the sight of your lock screen lighting up and the familiar banner you’ve already memorized by heart. 

Your Galaxy Explorer rewards are here. Did you put my hotel’s address as the shipping address? 

Ah, just like clockwork. 

You press on it with a quiet, bubbling anticipation, chewing on the plastic spork as you wait impatiently for the silly mobile game that’s been your short respite at intervals—for more than you’d care to admit—to boot up. 

Offhandedly, you wish that the devs would add more variations to the game’s push notifications; more random, personalized stuff like maybe a reminder to drink water, or a fun update about their day. What you’d give–pay–for a: "Less on the overtime, kitten. I miss you,” dialogue from a certain character, but you digress. 

Oh, well. Probably better this way, lest you dig yourself deeper into delusion. 

The game greets you with the usual picturesque view of a silver-haired man sitting cross-legged on a chair, looking all the bit at ease in his signature crimson and white button up. The warm ambience of the Destiny Café at night draws you in, already pulling your attention away from the never-ending stream of thoughts in your brain. 

“Before seeing you, I thought today would be another dull day,“ Sylus comments airily. The way he drawls out the words in that deep timbre of his voice never fails to make your heart flutter – just a teeeensy bit.

“Ever the charmer,” you sigh happily in return, situating yourself more comfortably on the sofa, almost horizontal from how far you’re leaning back on the cushion. “You’re looking awfully normal tonight. What, no pineapple glasses for your favorite girl?” 

Having bypassed the initial cringe of talking to yourself after literal months of gameplay, it almost comes off natural, the banter. You’ve already accepted the fact that you’re crazy about a fictional, pixelated man—what’s pretending to have actual conversations with him gonna do? It’s not as if he actually hears you yap your nonsense; there are worse things in the world than a parasocial attachment to an otome game character. 

Your little jab at the sometimes random addition to his choice of attire earns you a laugh from the man itself—or at least it looks as though it does, making you blink momentarily in surprise. Happy coincidence, I guess.

You shake your head, cracking a smile, then proceed to do the routine of completing the daily agenda and then some. 

It’s tedious business, sure. You’ve dedicated hours upon hours on this game and you’re honestly starting to feel pretty bored with some of the gameplay elements, but you *do* like the ritualistic nature of ticking off the tasks one by one. It’s almost ironic— the way you dutifully do one thing after the other in this game, just to avoid the pile of work that’s waiting for you in real life. 

It’s not as if anything, or anyone’s relying on you to do your daily log-ins, so you suppose it’s due to that lack of pressure as well. 

Pulling yourself away from the five-star Xavier memory card you’ve grinded to level seventy, you stare despondently at the sad little 2 on your remaining energy. The embarrassing amount of materials you lack to ascend the card seem to mock you, even as you exit the Memories window. Another goal for another day, perhaps.

All tasks on the daily agenda are complete, except for one that you’ve always saved for last.

You’re met with a standing Sylus on the game’s home screen, arms crossed and wearing an expression you’d almost describe as impatient, if you didn’t know any better. The sight makes you grin. 

Cheekily, you poke his crotch.

You’re looking forward to getting a playful remark, or if you’re lucky, a blush along with an embarrassed retort about your shamelessness. 

 What you get, however, is a resounding scoff. Your eyes snap back to his face – from, ahem, your prolonged staring at the area below his waist – and you do see the familiar tinge of pink on his cheeks, but what he says in response catches you off-guard.

“You spend that much resource for a card that isn’t mine?” Sylus tsks, both his voice and expression coming across as… affronted? “Kitten, I’m actually hurt.” 

Huh?

You haven’t heard that line from him before. Was there a recent update you weren’t aware of? The man in question then appears to look amused, from the way you’ve been rendered speechless by the unexpected dialogue. 

All at once, you gasp when you realize what the new response means. 

“That’s so smart,” you say giddily. You see Sylus cock his head to the side, synchronously quirking an eyebrow—expectant. “They actually added a feature that lets them know which memory I’ve upgraded last, and make you react to it. Oh, that’s so cool!” 

If you weren’t too busy being excited over what you think is a new update from the game,  you’d see the chagrined look on Sylus’ face. But when you glance back at him, all trace of the emotion is gone before you could notice anything different. 

“Don’t worry, Crow Man. You’re still my favorite,” you assure him, making his mouth tick upwards in a semblance of a smile. He looks pleased all of the sudden, his demeanor shifting into something more relaxed.

Then a pout forms on your face. You crinkle your nose in frustration as you complain, “It’s just really hard to level your cards up at this point. It takes ages and a shit ton of energy just to level you up past seventy five.” Sighing, you add, kind of bitterly, “And I’m too broke to be spending money on growth packs.” 

Checking the time on your phone, you see that you’ve already spent more than an hour on your self-imposed break time and you know that you ought to get back to work soon. With a groan, you pull yourself to sit upright, savoring the last few minutes of free time before you slave off for the rest of the night. 

You’re about to clean up what’s left of dinner when you notice the oddly thoughtful look on Sylus’ face. 

There’s a deep furrow in his brows as he brings a hand up to cover his mouth. He closes his eyes shut for a few seconds. He's never done that gesture before... Ugh, he looks really hot–

Suddenly, you see a flicker— then a weird, sort of graphic distortion happening in the background. Uh, what??

A beat; then a glitch on the screen. “Ah, shit.” 

The game crashes.

You exhale loudly as the game’s interface goes back to the loading screen, tapping your thumb impatiently as the bar slowly loads to 15%... 50%..... 81%....... 

“Maybe make sure to patch up first before releasing an update next time, jeez— Huh?” 

For a quick second, nothing seems to be amiss. But then the first thing you see on the home screen is Sylus’ figure standing before you, wearing an expression one could only describe as a cat that ate the proverbial canary. 

He speaks— and it’s another intro you haven’t heard him say, ever. 

“You should’ve told me sooner, sweetie,” he almost coos the words out, making your eyes bug out in shock. 

“Now, why don’t you go check your–” he pauses, and his mouth moves as if he’s rolling the word out, testing it. “Inventory?” 

Sylus slides his gaze towards the upper left corner of the screen, a coy smirk still ever-present on his face. 

There, you see something you haven’t noticed earlier: two notification badges. One on your mailbox, and another on the Hunter’s Info tab. Bewildered, you press on the mail icon first, despite the insistence for you to start with the latter. 

You see a new message: [For You]

A small gift, to bridge our worlds closer. – S 

Nothing is attached to it. You read it twice, perplexed.  

“You’re quite the contradictorian, aren’t you?” Sylus tuts as soon as you return back to the home screen, his gaze boring into you even when he tilts his head sideways in mock exasperation. “Mmm, I suppose it doesn’t matter. Take all the time you need, sweetheart.” 

Helplessly, you open your inventory next. 

Your jaw drops. 

“What. The fuck,” You whisper to yourself, voice wavering in disbelief at what you’re seeing, and the sheer amount of what you’re seeing. “This– this can’t be real.” 

You see that all the materials you own, from the bottle of wishes to the ascension crystal boxes, have been multiplied a hundred times over.

And on top of that–

Ninety nine thousand red dias????

You cannot believe how this—this recent… update (or is it a bug? Infold sure isn’t this generous) didn't make the news. Even as someone as uninvolved as you are with the community and the game’s latest releases, something like this for sure would’ve made headlines on Twitter (X), at least. But you haven’t heard anything. Nada. 

Holy shit. 

You feel a little light-headed, both from incredulity and excitement. Needing a moment to calm yourself down, you exit the Inventory tab in a daze.

You stare at Sylus. He stares back at you with what looks to be mirth in his eyes. 

Skeptically, you mutter, “did–did I get hacked or something?” 

Anticipating another unexpected dialogue to prompt up, you wait for a full minute without saying anything else. And for a moment, the man in front of you looks indecisive, contemplative. 

There’s something very odd, very… human in the way he’s looking at you. He looks as if– as if he’s—

His face falls back into a neutral expression. Not unlike how his idle animation usually looks. 

..

…

….. It doesn’t seem like he’s going to initiate a conversation any time soon, so you hesitantly poke him on the nose. 

“Even in the worst-case scenario, there’s no need to panic.”

You’ve heard that one before.

So he’s back to normal now. You temper the small disappointment that blooms in your gut. 

Shaking your head slowly, you try to make sense of all the stuff that just happened, but a sharp bite on your ankle pulls you out of your reverie. 

“Ow–!” The sight of your cat flopping near your feet reminds you of the time. More importantly, the backlogs waiting for you at your desk. 

“Wait, shit– I gotta get back to work.” This… unbelievable stroke of good luck (?) is gonna have to take a backseat for now.

You grab the carton box and the half-empty bottle of sparkling peach as you stand up. Making quick work of throwing the container in the trash and gulping down the rest of your drink, you rush into your room and back in front of your PC. 

Cracking your knuckles, you gingerly set your phone against the monitor. Setting the timer to one hour in Quality Time, knowing fully-well that you’re going to have to keep extending it until the wee hours of the morning—or until your battery dies, whichever comes first—you give Sylus one last look, letting out a long exhale before locking in.

“Just keep me company for the night, alright? I’ll figure out what’s going on once my shift’s over.” 

-

It could just be your overactive imagination, but you swear you hear a quiet chuckle from the man polishing his gun in your peripheral.

[classyrbf]

Hiii, i love your blog sosomuch. can i req like angst/comfort fic nanami? maybe nanami is like a bittttttt of an ass

ARE YOU STILL MINE! — NANAMI KENTO

SYNOPSIS...you feel as though your husband has become too distant from you and your marriage is hanging on by a thread

INFO...nanami x fem!reader, nanami is bit mean, mentions of cheating but no actual cheating, angst (obvi), reader is insecure with herself, mentions of divorce, comfort at the end, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

thank you so much anon, I hope you enjoy your request!

At first it started out with him staying at work later than usual, coming home at strange times in the night where you had fallen asleep on the couch because you were waiting for him. He’d merely just glance at you, thinking you opted for the couch rather than the bed, walking into the room to go to bed instead of waking you. Then, he started talking less, being very distant, dry with his responses every time you’d brought up an interest of yours. He’d play with his food, moving it around on the plate like a picky child while humming responses. Then, you started not seeing him at all, every morning you opened your eyes he was gone and every night you couldn’t bear staying awake any longer than needed. And lastly, you began to feel alone, the house that you shared with your husband started to feel like you were now sharing it with a roommate. Was your marriage on the brink of divorce?

Another morning, another day of waking up to an empty bed. You rolled over, the sheet crinkled from where he slept but ultimately felt cold. It was a daily routine for you now, though you can’t grow accustomed to it no matter what you do. Its disappointing. Sad. All of your friends gush about their husbands bringing them gifts, going on vacation, and the cherry on top was soon one of your friends was having a baby. You sat there the whole time, staring off into the distance because you couldn’t remember the last time kento had even got you a gift, let alone uttered a word to you.

You stared at the diamond ring that adorned your finger, contemplating if this was at all really worth it anymore. Why stay in a marriage you weren’t happy in? But before making any rash decisions, you knew you needed to talk with him before anything. That’s if you even get the chance to. Lazily dragging your feet across the kitchen floor, you opened the fridge and realized he had left his lunchbox, leaving the food you made last night. You grabbed it, letting out a deep sigh. Should you even bring it? Yes, get out the house and get some fresh air. No, you’re just gonna waste your time and he won’t even eat it.

After fully waking up, you got dressed and grabbed his lunch box off of the counter. You walked past the mirror in the hall, keys in hand before you came to a complete stop to look at yourself. Jeans and a shirt with tacky sneakers that didn’t even match. And your eye bags just added onto it. God, you looked horrible. He wouldn’t want to see you like this. Especially not at his job.

With summer breeze, you were quick to change into a pretty sundress Nanami had gotten you last winter, along with some wedged heels to top off the look. And quickly, you ran to bathroom to apply makeup, nothing too heavy but just enough to make it look like you were at least taking care of yourself properly. You smeared the pink gloss along your lined lips, leaning towards the mirror to make sure you looked good. Still, you didn’t feel satisfied, but it’ll have to do.

You sat in the car for another minute, applying another coat of mascara before heading into the building. Nerves struck through your entire body, something similar to a first date. It’s been so long since you’ve seen him, your own husband, that it now feels like seeing him for the first time. The thought made your frown as you stepped foot inside. You greeted the woman at the desk. “Hi, I’m here to drop my husbands lunch he forgot it at home. Nanami Kento.” You kindly smiled.

“Oh! You’re Mr. Nanami’s wife! Pleasure to meet you!” She bowed, smiling. “You’re free to head to his office.”

“Thank you!” Your heels click against the marble flooring, walking towards the elevator and pressing the button with a shaky hand. You wondered if he’d be surprised to see you, greet you with a kiss or a hug. You grew hopeful, imagining finally being in his embrace after so long. You smiled, stepping out of the elevator and headed down the hall towards his office.

On the other side of the door you could hear your husband laughing, talking with someone. But jealousy and insecurity buried a pit in your chest when you heard a woman laugh along with him. You barged into the office, taking site of the two sitting across the desk from one another. Your husbands eyes shot up towards you and the woman glanced over her shoulder with a confused look.

“Y/n?” He stood from his chair, walking over to you. “Sorry, this is my wife.” He awkwardly laughed, looking at the woman who was now standing.

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Nanami.” She bowed, a small smile on her lips.

“H-hello.” You shakily replied, looking between her and your husband.

“What are you doing here?” He whispered, brows furrowed. From his tone, he sounded slightly annoyed, like you had interrupted something important.

“You forgot your lunch I thought—”

“I already had lunch. No need.” He easily dismissed you, shaking his head. “I’m having an important discussion right now, so I’ll see you at home.” He walked you out of his office, shutting the door behind you. No goodbye. No kiss. Not even a hug. I’ll see you at home. What a joke.

You sat in the bath, bubbles surrounding you and scented candles lit on the sink. The diamond ring on your finger glistened under the dim light as you stared at it, a sour taste forming in your mouth when you remembered earlier today. Who was that woman? Clearly she worked there, but she was so much younger, prettier, and she was making Nanami laugh. He was in such a rush to push you out, claiming he had eaten already. God, you wouldn’t be surprised if he was cheating. It’s the only thing that makes any sense. Forget the talk.

You’ve forgotten how long you’ve been sitting in here now, but you were surprised when you heard the front door open. Reaching for your phone, it was only five at night, pretty early for him to be home nowadays. You just soaked in the bath, hearing his footsteps grow closer and closer until he reached your bedroom. Nanami, noticed the bathroom light, walking in and seeing you in the tub. “Hey, honey.” It’s felt like years since he’s called you any type of pet name, or anything in general.

“I was just getting out. I’ll finish after you’ve done doing what you need to do.” You reach for your towel on the rack, before Nanami stops you.

“Woah, woah, can I not join you?” He chuckled, soothingly rubbing his hand up and down your arm.

“No. Not in the mood.” You snatched the towel, wrapping it around your body before stepping out the tub, blowing out the scented candle and grabbing your phone. “Enjoy your shower.”

“Honey, if this is about earlier today, I apologize. I was interviewing her for a position—”

“God, you really haven’t noticed it?” You were at your breaking point, on the verge of tears from all the hurt you’ve been holding in for the last few months.

“I’m sorry I don’t know—”

“I want a divorce.” The words came out of your mouth as smooth as silk, leaving him shocked.

“Wait, wait! Sweetheart, talk to me first please?” He almost sounded desperate, reaching for you as you walked away into the bedroom. He quickly followed behind you. “Say something.”

“These last few months have been hell! You come home late, leave early, I don’t even see my own husband anymore. We don’t even talk to or at least text each other. And then I walk in, seeing you laughing and talking with some woman and god, the worst comes to my head because my husband hasn’t been mine for last three months! We haven’t kissed, hugged, or even had sex in so long. And then I get all dressed up for you and you push me out of there like I’m a stranger and then you come home and act like everything is okay! I’m not okay!” You scream, tears pooling in your eyes. “I feel so alone. So jealous and insecure.” You sob, turning away from him because he doesn’t deserve your tears, he doesn’t deserve to see you so weak and broken.

“Honey, I am so fucking sorry. God, please look at me. Baby.” His soft voice makes you want to rebel against everything you’re standing for right now, wanting to turn to him and hug him and kiss him. You feel his soft hands on your shoulder. “I am so sorry for making you feel less than what you truly are.”

“Are you cheating on me?” You managed to ask through tears.

“What?!” He says shocked. “No, fuck, of course not!” He couldn’t believe his ears, turning you around on his own, pulling you to look at him. He’s not surprised you think he’s having an affair with the way he’s been acting lately. But the truth is, he’s been distant because of a surprise. “I could never cheat on you. It disgusts me to even think about it, darling.” He caresses your face gently, holding it in his hands.

“Then what is it? Do you not love me anymore?” You hiccup, staring at him with teary eyes.

“I’m madly in love with you! I know these past few months, I’ve been horrible at showing it, treating you like you’re nothing when you’re everything. If I knew this would have such a horrible effect on you, I would’ve told you sooner instead of wanting to surprise you.” He let out a heavy sigh of disappointment. Disappointment within himself for putting you in such a position.

“What? What surprise?” You looked at him confused, browns knitting together. He sat you on the edge of the bed, taking your hand in his as he kneeled in front you. “Kento…”

“I’ve been working so hard because I was planning our future. Saving up to move to Malaysia. I wanted it to be a surprise, but, I can’t keep seeing you like this. I’ve been working to save up more money, I’ve been searching for houses and talking to realtors on the phone. I’ve been exhausted, honey, but that’s no excuse for how I’ve been treating you like an afterthought.” He kissed your palm. “Please forgive me. I am so, so, sorry.” He kissed your hand again, resting his head on your lap. “Sweetheart, I don’t know what I’ll do if you leave me. Just hearing those words leave your mouth earlier scared the shit out of me. I can’t lose you. I love you so much.” He chokes back tears, holding you tightly.

You sit there shocked, completely and utterly shocked. While his actions were no excuse, you still can’t believe the reasoning behind it all. “Ken,” you mutter, running your fingers through his soft blonde hair. He kisses your hand once more, lifting his head to stare up at you.

“I’ll do anything if you just stay. I’ll do anything for you, sweetheart. I need you to know that.” Your heart pounds against your ribcage as he crawls up towards you, cupping your face. “I love you. I’m sorry. I’m so—mmph—sorry.” He kisses you between words, pressing his lips to yours. You haven’t felt his kisses in so long but it’s like they never left, feeling his firm grip on you as he kissed you so sweetly, each one filled with so much passion and desire.

“Baby, Ken, I forgive you. Okay?” You pull away. “Just…please, don’t ever do that to me again. I don’t care what it is, do not make me feel like I’m any less important. I can’t believe you’ve been working your ass off just so we could move to Malaysia, carrying the burden by yourself when you know I’m right here.” Your eyes search his.

“I understand. I’m sorry. I know I should’ve said something, I just…I don’t know. It’s doesn’t matter anymore, yeah? I’ve still got some extra work to do for the next two weeks until it’s settled, so don’t think I’m going back on my word. I swear I’m not.” He pecked your lips.

“Okay, I understand. Can I at least ask where in Malaysia?” You smiled, holding his hand.

“That, I am keeping a surprise.” He shook his head. “I just can’t wait to see the look on your beautiful face when you see it.” He quickly scooped you up in his arms, walking into the bathroom. “Shower with me? It’s been so long since we’ve—”

“Of course. I’ve missed you so much, Ken.”

His eyes glistened as he stared at you, smiling like an idiot in love. “You looked beautiful earlier today. I noticed you were wearing the sundress I had bought you. I can confidently say that it hugs you in the all right places. If there were no one in my office, I would have taken you right then and there, sweetheart.”

“Ken!” You shout in surprise, covering your mouth as you stifled back a laugh. “Please just get undressed so we can shower!”

“It’s good to see a smile back on your face.”

[luv-lock]

⸻ ꜱ ᴘ ɪ ᴅ ᴇ ʀ ɢ ɪ ʀ ʟ ⸻

Pairing: Yandere Batfam x Fem Reader

Headcanon: How is your relationship with batfam in general?

Notes: Reader is a pervert. Reader have the same abilities as spiderman. Again another silly fic that should not be taken seriously. English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

At 22, you were a far cry from the scrappy little thief Bruce and Dick had caught all those years ago. Sure, you were still crass, still brutally honest, and still had a penchant for letting your intrusive thoughts win, but now? Now you were hot.

Like, objectively hot. Your tight black spider suit left very little to the imagination, clinging to every curve and muscle as you swung through the city. And you loved every second of it. The attention? Oh, the attention was your lifeblood. You basked in it like a lizard in the sun.

Dick was still wearing those tight pants, wasn’t he? You couldn’t help but stare. I mean, seriously, the guy had a killer ass. You were supposed to be on a mission, but all you could think about was how the suit hugged his figure in ways that made you forget everything except your growing thoughts. You even compared your ass to his when he wasn’t looking—just to make sure you were still in the running for the Best Butt in Gotham.

“Hey, Grayson,” you called out, voice dripping with amusement. He turned his head slightly, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah?”

“Nice ass.” You grinned, winking.

He blinked. “What?” He stopped walking and spun around, completely thrown off by your bluntness.

“Oh, nothing, just admiring the view,” you shrugged, taking a step forward and pretending to actually pay attention to the mission. His cheeks turned red, but you didn’t care. You were busy eyeing his backside like it was a prize you were about to claim.

You convinced Dick to teach you yoga, but it wasn’t for flexibility—it was so you could watch him stretch.

“Wow, Dick,” you said, laying on the mat and pretending to follow his moves. “You’re really… bendy.”

He flushed. “It’s not like that!”

“Sure it’s not,” you teased, snapping a quick photo of him in a compromising pose. “This one’s going on the Batfam group chat.”

“Y/N, don’t you dare!”

You were bleeding out. Your side was burning, your vision blurry, and yet you were having the time of your life. Why? Because Jason Todd—walking sex god and part-time vigilante—was carrying you in his arms like you were a damsel in distress.

“Don’t worry,” Jason said, sprinting through an alley as explosions sounded in the distance. “I’ve got you. You’re gonna be fine.”

You stared up at him, dazed but grinning. “You’re so pretty.”

“Y/N, stay awake,” Jason barked.

“I’m awake my angel,” you slurred. Your eyes drifted downward to his broad chest, the tight shirt doing little to hide the muscle underneath. You reached out, resting a hand on his pec. “You got...man boobs.”

Jason groaned. “You're hallucinating, stay awake please.”

“They’re perfect,” you whispered, leaning closer. And then—because you were you—you bit him.

Jason skidded to a stop, staring at you in disbelief. “Did you just—”

“I couldn’t help it,” you said, grinning despite the blood trickling down your chin. “They’re so biteable.”

You discovered Jason was ticklish purely by accident, and you never let him live it down. Anytime he annoyed you, you’d jab him in the ribs or poke his sides until he squirmed.

“Stop it, Y/N!” he growled, swatting at your hands.

“You wish,” you said, chasing him around the room.

The rest of the Batfam watched in stunned silence as Jason “Red Hood” Todd ran from you like a child.

You declared the Batcave chair yours one day and refused to let anyone else sit in it.

“It’s my throne,” you said, lounging dramatically as the others stood around, glaring.

“Get up,” Jason said, crossing his arms.

“Make me,” you replied, sticking your tongue out.

He grabbed you, but instead of throwing you out, you ended up on his lap, smirking. “Guess this works too.”

Anytime you were in the middle of a Dick and Jason argument, you somehow always ended up physically between them. And, oh, you weren’t complaining.

“Move, Dickhead,” Jason growled, pushing into your right shoulder, his broad chest pressing into the side of your face.

“Not a chance, Hood,” Dick snapped, leaning in on your other side, his own muscular frame trapping you against Jason.

You? You just stood there, smiling like a cat with a bowl of cream. “Ooh, I love this. It’s like being sandwiched between two very attractive brick walls.”

“What?!” they shouted in unison.

Jason shot Dick a death glare. “See what you did? You’re giving her ideas.”

“Me? You’re the one pressing into her like some kind of Neanderthal!”

You just smirked, leaning back into the tension. “Don’t mind me, boys. Please, continue. This is very entertaining.”

Dick was your favorite pillow, and you made sure he knew it. Anytime you were hanging out in the Batcave, you’d just casually rest your head on his shoulder or lean against his chest.

“Comfortable?” he asked, chuckling softly.

“Very,” you replied, closing your eyes.

He smiled, wrapping an arm around you. “Good.”

You peeked up at him, grinning. “You know, you make a great pillow. Very firm, but also soft in the right places.”

Dick laughed, shaking his head. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Thanks,” you said, smirking.

Dick’s ass was basically your personal stress ball at this point. It didn’t matter if you were on a mission, in the Batcave, or just walking through Gotham—if the opportunity presented itself, you’d take it.

SMACK!

“Jesus, Y/N!” Dick would jump, spinning around, his cheeks flushed.

“What?” you’d say innocently, shrugging. “It’s just so perfect. You work hard for that, right? I’m just appreciating the effort.”

He’d sigh, rubbing his neck, but you knew he secretly loved it.

Jason’s chest was another favorite of yours, especially when he was shirtless (which, let’s face it, happened a lot). You’d walk up to him, your fingers twitching, and—pinch!

“Damn it, Y/N!” Jason would glare at you, rubbing the spot where you’d gotten him. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing,” you’d say with a cheeky grin. “Just checking if these are real.”

He’d groan, shaking his head, but you’d catch the tiny smirk he tried to hide.

You loved teasing, and nothing was off-limits. During a mission, your suit "mysteriously" ripped—right in front of Jason and Dick.

“Oh no,” you said innocently, looking over your shoulder at the tear just below your back. “Guess I’ll have to fix this later.”

Jason’s jaw tightened. “Y/N, stop.”

Dick looked away, flustered. “Maybe cover it up or something?”

“Why? You guys can’t handle a little skin?” You smirked, adjusting your suit to make it worse.

Jason grumbled, “I’m about to shoot that suit off you if you don’t stop playing.”

You had zero shame. Once, during a stakeout with Dick, you leaned over and kissed him right in the middle of his report to Bruce.

“Nightwing, report—” Bruce’s voice came over the comms, but you cut Dick off with your lips, pulling him into a deep kiss.

“Y/N!” he protested, his face red as he tried to pull away. “Bruce can hear us!”

“So?” you replied, shrugging as you went in for another kiss.

The first time you met Superman, you were not prepared.

“Y/N, this is Clark Kent,” Bruce said, his tone clipped as ever. “He’s Superman.”

You blinked up at the man of steel, all 6’4” of farm-boy perfection, and immediately zeroed in on one thing: the bulge.

You weren’t subtle about it either. Your eyes widened slightly as you stared, your head tilting to the side like you were trying to calculate something.

Clark, oblivious, smiled warmly. “It’s nice to meet you. Bruce has told me a lot about you.”

“Uh-huh,” you muttered, still staring. “Damn, you’re packing. Your wife must be so lucky.”

The room went silent. Bruce closed his eyes, looking like he was about to have an aneurysm. Clark cleared his throat, cheeks turning bright red.

“What—what does that mean?” Superman asked, clearly flustered.

“Oh, nothing,” you said, shrugging. “Just making an observation. By the way, you ever need help with Lois, let me know. I’m excellent at teamwork.”

Bruce groaned audibly in the background.

“Anyway,” he stammered, shifting awkwardly, “I, uh, wanted to talk to you about Damian and Jon.”

You didn’t hear a word he said.

Poor Tim. Sweet, awkward Tim. He didn’t deserve you, and yet you tormented him at every opportunity.

You were taller than him, which you used to your advantage constantly. One day, after a successful mission, you wrapped your arms around him from behind, pulling him into a tight hug. Your boobs pressed against the back of his head, and you could feel him stiffen like a deer caught in headlights.

“Good boy,”

“Y/N,” he croaked, his voice an octave higher than usual.

“Hmm?”

“Let go.”

“But you’re so cute when you’re flustered.”

“LET GO!”

Tim was your little puppy, and you made sure he knew it. Anytime he looked stressed (which was, like, always), you’d grab him by the shoulders and pull him down onto your lap.

“Shhh,” you’d coo, stroking his hair while he sat there stiff as a board. “You’re working too hard, Timmy. Just relax.”

He’d blush furiously, stammering out a protest, but you’d silence him with a kiss to his forehead.

“Good boy,” you’d whisper, your voice soft but teasing. “You’re doing great.”

Poor Tim would be a mess, his face redder than Jason’s helmet, but you didn’t care. It was adorable.

Jason walked in once and nearly gagged. “This is the most disturbing thing I’ve ever seen.”

When you first met Damian, you were charmed. Not by his skill, or his intellect, or his reputation as the Demon’s Son. No, you were charmed because he looked like an angry little bird.

He’d just finished beating the crap out of Tim in the training room when you walked in.

“Who is this?” Damian demanded, glaring at you.

You clasped your hands together, grinning. “Aww, you’re so cute!”

Damian bristled. “I am not cute! I am an assassin!”

You squealed, bouncing on your heels. “Look at him! He’s like a tiny murder pigeon!”

Tim, still lying on the mat, muttered, “Please kill me.”

“So adorable,” you said, holding your hands together in a “squee” motion, jumping up and down like a fangirl. “I didn’t know you were so mad! Look at you, little angry pookie!”

Damian, of course, was not impressed. “Shut up, woman.”

But you? You couldn’t stop giggling. “You’re, like, a pocket-sized villain. So cute.”

Since then, you’d taken to treating Damian like a literal baby. You’d sit him on your lap, spoon-feed him during meals, and ruffle his hair at every opportunity.

Damian was your baby, no matter how much he tried to argue otherwise. You gave him the most attention—whether it was ruffling his hair, pinching his cheeks, or straight-up kissing him on the forehead during missions.

“Y/N, cease this nonsense!” he’d shout, trying to push you away.

“Aw, but you’re so cute,” you’d tease, holding his face in your hands.

Damian would glare, but the faint pink on his cheeks betrayed him. You knew he secretly loved it, especially when you called him your “adorable angry bird.”

Jon Kent adored you. But when he let it slip in front of Damian?

“Y/N is… well, she’s amazing,” Jon had said shyly, scratching the back of his neck.

Damian froze, his eyes narrowing. “What did you just say?”

“Uh, nothing!” Jon backpedaled, but Damian was already chasing him across the Batcave, sword in hand.

“YOU THINK YOU HAVE A CHANCE?!” Damian yelled as Jon flew for his life.

Bruce wasn’t immune to your antics either. You’d long since dropped the “old man” or “Bruce” in favor of something much more fun: “Daddy.”

“Good work tonight, Y/N,” Bruce said one evening, his tone professional.

You leaned against the Batcomputer, smirking. “Thanks, Daddy.”

Bruce froze, his eye twitching slightly.

“Stop calling me that.”

“Why? You always been my suger daddy, it's only make sense if I call you daddy.”

He walked away without another word.

You made it your life mission to annoy Bruce whenever possible. During one of his infamous brooding sessions in the Batcave, you casually walked up to him, poked his nose, and said, “Boop.”

He froze, slowly turning to glare at you. “Don’t.��

“Boop,” you repeated, doing it again.

Dick and Tim were in hysterics in the background, and Jason muttered, “She’s got a death wish.”

Bruce, exhausted, pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why am I not surprised?”

It started as a joke. You stole one of Bruce’s button-up shirts and wore it around the Manor. Now it was a regular occurrence, much to Bruce’s annoyance.

“That’s mine,” he’d say.

“Yup, and it’s comfy,” you’d reply, lounging on the couch.

Once, during a mission debrief, you leaned on the table and purred, “What’s the plan, Daddy?”

Jason choked on his drink, Dick coughed awkwardly, and Tim turned bright red.

Bruce didn’t even look up. “I will ground you.”

“Kinky,” you replied with a grin.

You had a thing for flirting with dangerous villains, and the Batfam hated it.

“I could totally take Deathstroke,” you said once after a fight.

“He tried to kill you!” Jason snapped.

“Yeah, but did you see the way he looked at me? Sparks, I tell you. Also who said I was talking about fighting?”

“She’s insane,” Damian muttered, but you just shrugged.

During a fight with the Joker, you’d stopped mid-battle to tilt your head and give him an appraising look.

“Y’know,” you said, webbing one of his henchmen to the wall. “You’d be kinda hot if you didn’t look like a corpse. Ever thought about skincare?”

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” Dick had yelled, dodging a swing from Harley Quinn.

“SHUT UP!” you shot back. “I CAN FIX HIM!”

Despite all the chaos and teasing, there’s a hidden, vulnerable side to you that craves attention—not just the kind that’s lustful, but the caring kind.

After a long night of missions, you’ll often crash in the Batcave. The family can be in the middle of an intense discussion or debriefing, but you’ll barge in, throw yourself onto Tim, and use his lap as a pillow.

Jason will grumble and say something about you “acting like a child,” but then you'll casually climb onto his back, burrowing your face into his shoulder as you cling to him.

Of course, Bruce just looks away like he’s done with all of you, but deep down, he knows that if he even tried to stop it, the whole family would turn on him. You're the glue holding them all together.

Main Headcanon

@ʀᴏᴛᴛᴇɴꜰʏʀᴇ 2024. ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ᴜꜱᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡᴇʙꜱɪᴛᴇꜱ.

[chelseeebe]

yours, forever

18+ mdni. smut. mean!exhusband!eddie;) breeding kink if you squint a lil

a/n: i was not expecting to post again so soon but this genuinely couldn’t wait lol. i have another parts to this little piece so lmk if you’d like to see it. someone posted a really really good exhusband!eddie fic like a month ago and ive lost it, but they inspired this entire thing!

^it was this post by @madelynraemunson !!!

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

eddie wasn’t expecting to find you standing on the other side of the door, nor had he expected you to barge right past him and into his kitchen. 

you seemed to show up with zero rhyme or reason, typically wanting something from him. 

that was fine, appreciated even. 

he just wasn’t a fan of you waltzing into his home with the sole purpose of talking about your pig of a husband. 

“david wanted me to ask you if he could take the kids up to washington to see his parents,” you stand awkwardly at the kitchen island, his apartment a shell of the house you once owned together. 

eddie pauses, launching the dish towel onto the counter and laughs, deep and gravely as he swings back around, “no.” 

“why not?” you huff, blinking expectantly at your petulant ex. he’d always been a sucker for your eyes, divorce couldn’t changed that. 

“because i said so,” leaning against the marbled counter, “he asked you to ask me and i said no, that’s it. done.” 

“you’re being stubborn,” crossing your arms over your chest, scolding in the way you talk to him. 

“i don’t care.”

“eddie,” stepping forward. 

“sweetheart,” his tone disapproving as he also steps up, closing the gap between you, “no,” enunciating the word in hopes that you’d actually understand now. 

“don’t be an asshole,” you frown, a couple years ago you’d pout and get your own way but now eddie found great satisfaction in telling you no.  

“i’m not being an asshole, you asked me a question and i answered, dave can go to washington, but you and my kids can’t,” his lip twitching into a dastardly smirk. any minute now you’d crack, really let loose on his ass. 

“oh, so now i can’t go? who the fuck are you to tell me what to do?” poking your sharp finger into his chest, a fury behind your eye that almost instantly made him hard. 

“the father of our kids? or have you forgotten about that?” 

“unfortunately not,” rolling your eyes, nonetheless you make no effort to leave, your bag already on the counter, signifying that what he assumed would happen next was definitely going to happen next. 

“you don’t mean that,” sidling closer, trapping your body between the counter and his chest, “because if you did, you wouldn’t let me keep fucking the shit outta you.”

eddie’s rock solid now, this was foreplay for him, getting high off of the way you argued with him, degrading him right to his face. 

“shut up,” rolling your eyes to the back of your head, fingers curling into the hem of his shirt, “you’re so pathetic,” glancing down at his boner now pressing against your cunt. 

“mmhmm,” he wouldn’t fight it, in fact, he’s proud of it, “only for you though,” finding your hips, palming at the doughy flesh. 

your lips twitch and he knows he’s won this fight, planting your lips to his, a firm hand on his chest just to remind him who was really in charge. 

sighing into your mouth as you move against him, his hands running beneath the seam of your skirt, feeling his way up the backs of your thighs to settle on your ass. 

“eds,” you hum, pulling away from his lips, “i’ve gotta go pick the boys up,” making zero effort to stop the inevitable, your chest flush against his.

“well better make it quick this time then,” he growls, walking your body into the countertop, manhandling your body to face you against the hard counter, pressing up against the swell of your ass. his belt clinks as his jeans fall down around his thighs, boxers following behind. 

“this is.. i have to go,” you gasp, rolling your head back to allow his lips room to find your neck, nuzzling right into his favourite spot just tucked underneath your jaw. 

“then why don’t you leave?” his gruff voice vibrates against your chin as his hands slide underneath your shirt, spilling your tits from your bra to get a full handed grope of them. 

your hand rests atop of his, the other gripping to the countertop for dear life. 

you’re not going to leave, that much is obvious. eddie’s also fairly certain that you’ve got at least an hour before you have to go. he’s not stupid, you play the game just as much as he does, pretending to leave just to pounce on him straight after. 

“that’s what i thought,” sarcastic as ever, threatening to score violet splotches behind on your neck, though his lips detach before he’s able to. 

eddie lets his thoughts slip back to the reason you’re even here, letting himself get frustrated by your blind audacity all over again. 

“you must be fucking stupid coming in here, asking me shit like that,” his large, calloused hand pawing at your tits, the other yanking your panties down to hang around your thighs. 

“no i’m not,” arguing back though you’re completely docile, allowing him to bend your torso over the marbled countertop, his hands groping your plush skin. “he’s my..” sigh, “husband now and you need to- fu-uck respect that,” fingers curling around his arm, pinching at the skin when he slides inside with no warning. 

“what was that?” eddie mocks, slamming into your cunt with little remorse, full of years of pent up frustration and a tiny dose of regret. 

once upon a time, this was his everyday. having you absolutely anywhere he wanted, and now it was solely reserved for times you really needed him to agree to something. or perhaps david had done something stupid, as he often did. sending you running back to eddie like a feeble little deer. 

“shut up,” sighing in time with his rough strokes, the sound of his hips slapping against your ass echoes through his barren kitchen, filthy sounds of sex wailed through his apartment far more often than they should. 

before you’d met david, he’d see you once a week while dropping the kids off, maybe he’d get to taste you a couple times a month, if he was lucky. it was only after you remarried that you’d come around unannounced, asking about something that most definitely could’ve been a call. 

eddie doesn’t care, you’re the only woman for him anyway, a couple divorce papers couldn’t change that. 

“you fuckin’ love it,” he growls, grabbing a fistful of your hair and fiercely tugging your head back, “y’gotta drive all the way over here just to cum, ain’t that sad?” speaking low right into your ear, his arms keeping a strong hold of your torso as your knees grow weak. 

“you don’t.. you’re- fuck you,” knuckles glowing white with your grip on the counter, other hand desperately nuzzling between your thighs, circling your neglected clit. 

“have to speak up honey, i can’t hear you,” the tip of his cock nudges against your soft spot, eliciting a strangled mewl from your pretty wetted lips. 

“i can make myself cum,” you speak proudly through gritted teeth, voice bouncing around with every slam of his hips, “i don’t need you,” rubbing your clit harsher, as if to prove a point. 

“oh yeah? show me baby.. let me see you cum,” slowing his strokes but keeping his cock firmly enveloped inside, jaw clenching with every squeeze and quiver of your cunt. 

eddie palms your tit, getting as much satisfaction from this as you were. your whimpers alone could make him cum, hell, just a look and he was rock solid in his jeans. 

“oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck,” gasping into the air, leant back against his shoulder, head turning to hide in the nook of his neck as you teeter over, waves of pleasure shocking your body. 

“shit,” he grunts underneath his breath, feeling you writhe around in his arms, “that was good sweetheart, my turn,” resuming his assault on your cunt, breath stuttering as his hips begin to rock again. 

his hand replaces yours, slipping between your thighs to find your clit, thrusts becoming sloppy and weak as the blood rushes to his head, sending his stomach into a series of somersaults. 

even in your separation, your pleasure came first. an important pocket of information wayne had awkwardly handed him when his voice started cracking and girls no longer had cooties. 

you’re putty in his arms, fully relying on the countertop to keep you upright, thighs quivering with the intensity of your orgasm and the anticipation of the quickly approaching next one. 

“oh.. my.. god,” whining with every thrust, your voice thick with lustrous air, too fucked out to stand or even think straight. 

“i’m gonna, sh-shit cum sweetheart,” pounding recklessly into your trembling pussy, dripping in a mixture of your juices. 

you clench around him, tipping over the edge once more, barely able to hold yourself upright with shaking knees and a harsh grip of his arm. 

eddie isn’t, nor had he ever been one for pulling out, he liked running that risk, the thrill of maybe knocking you up again. 

three kids don’t happen without at least one accident, that’s for sure. 

he doesn’t now, pumping the thick ropes of his release into your cunt, groaning belligerently as he does so. praying to god this was the time it stuck, pregnant with his child once again. 

you fall flat against the counter, heaving for breath with the last of his pathetic strokes, growling into the stuff air. 

he slaps a harsh palm to your ass for good measure, trailing his hand down your trembling thighs, “so you run along home now and tell him exactly what i told you,” fingering the lace of your panties as he hikes them back over your thighs.

“no.”