#the way she is walking has such confidence to it

[peachesofteal]

Simple Math / Part Twenty

Simple Math masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 4.1k words - AO3 Tags: 18+ mdni, nurse reader, feelings of fear and panic, PTSD, references to domestic violence. Trauma, blood. Flashbacks. Dubious ethics and morality, dark content.

“Are ye comin’ inside?”

“I need a minute.” He needs more than a minute. He needs days, weeks. Needs to wind back the clock and slam it into the ground, over and over again, until the springs and hands and tiny numbers splinter into pieces.

Failure. He failed. They failed.

They failed you.

“Wait, go back.” The video pauses and rolls backward, all the way until Simon tells Kate to stop it when you step out of the elevator. “What’s in her hand?” 

“Dinnae,” Johnny’s nose is practically touching the screen. 

“The recording is pretty low quality; I’ve tried enhancing it with no luck.” Kate’s voice crackles through the speakers from the other side of the laptop, the other side of the world. This is the first time they’ve managed to get a hold of her in weeks, and even now, the connection is half static. 

“Looks like a piece of paper, or a picture?” Johnny murmurs, leaning back. 

“This is just before she bolts,” the playback continues, and they watch as you walk down the hall, bright smile fading when you reach the corner. “She’s here for a minute and then runs…” Simon is glued to the screen, forward on his haunches, and Johnny rubs his back, kneading his knuckles into that ever-present knot in his shoulder. He watches your head turn, your back stiffen, and Johnny sucks in a breath. 

Kate nods the confirmation. She’s already put the puzzle together. 

Graves.

You���re reacting to Graves, seeing Graves. Entire demeanor shifting, changing from their sweet, smart girl with newfound confidence, to a deer, shocked and startled, running from a scope. 

Graves.

It’s simple math. Plain as day. You take one look at where he’s come around the corner, running his mouth, chewing that fucking gum, and split. 

It’s Graves. 

And it all makes sense. 

“-you don’t know what he’s capable of. You don’t understand. He’s chased me across the world, he always finds me, no matter what, no matter what I do”

“He’s in the military. Some sort of security work, department of defense, or something. He never really talked about it.”

“He always finds me.” 

“He has resources. Has followed me across the globe more than once. My only saving grace is that when he has to work, he has to work, and it’s usually for long chunks of time.”

“I’m originally from Texas.” 

Texas. Texas. Texas. 

There was a conversation, months ago, that slipped through Simon’s fingers. A wisp of a suspicion, one pushed away by doubt, by disbelief.  

Not possible. A coincidence. 

He was wrong, about being wrong. He was right, all along.

Johnny nearly flips the table before Simon urges him back down. “Where… where does she go after this?” 

“She gets the car,” Simon answers, timeline clicking into place, “she borrows that gits car, comes home, packs a bag, and runs.” Johnny’s hands are shaking, fingers white against his knees. 

They’ll kill him. He’ll paint the walls with Phillip’s blood. They’ll do what should have done in the first place. 

He should have protected you, should have seen it all clearly. Should have applied more pressure and made you crack, if only for your own safety. 

He failed. 

They failed. 

“That piece o’ shite, I’ll-“ 

“Kill him.” Simon finishes simply, and they exchange a look. A promise without words. Simon will shatter his skull between his palms if he has to. 

Johnny nods. The gears are already turning. Are they so different from a man who has stopped at nothing to drag you back to him? 

No. 

They'd burn the world for you, to protect you, to bring you home to them. 

Kate clears her throat. “There’s more.” More? “I was checking some records, looking at her last clock out, when the last paycheck was paid out and I pulled her personal information, her medical chart.” Kate’s tone is wary, hesitant, and Johnny straightens. 

“What is it?” There’s a pause on the other end of the line, unsure trepidation that’s so unlike Kate the hair on the back of Simon’s neck stands up. 

“Kate…” 

“She’s pregnant.” You could hear a pin drop. Johnny’s rage turns to panic, and an ocean of blood rushes in Simon’s ears. 

“She’s- she’s what?” 

“She’s pregnant. By now, she’s probably twenty weeks, maybe? I’m not sure. I don’t know much about those things, but her chart notes say both of them are… were in good health. Low risk.” 

“Twenty weeks,” Johnny echoes, faraway look in his eyes. 

A baby. You’re pregnant. 

Pregnant. Pregnant and alone, and scared. Running away.  

From them. 

Simon’s trying to wrap his head around it, but he can’t. The information doesn’t fit. It doesn’t make sense. 

“If she’s twenty weeks, then she’s been pregnant since before she left.” Johnny’s talking to himself at this point, because Simon can’t force his mouth to make words. “Why keep it a secret?” Kate is telling them something about index hits and cameras, but it all amounts to nothing after you board the train, and Simon still fails to make a sound. 

And then, she piles it on. 

“Graves is in the wind.” Simon’s heart stops like he’s been struck by lightning, electricity jolting him alive. 

“How?” 

“He went offline. No traceable activity in the last week or so. Last known location was Texas. After that, I’m not sure. Yet.”

‘He can’t be in the wind,” Johnny whisper shouts, all too aware of Penny upstairs, napping. “We need to know where he is. Now.” 

“I’m doing all I can. He has resources too, you know. A lot of them.” The screen goes black for a second, before she reappears, lips pressed into a grim line. “I have to go. I’ll keep you updated. Sorry guys.”

They can only nod. 

It’s clear as day, what happened now. How you saw them in the hallway, how you drew the conclusion, one that seemed so painfully obvious, connected the dots that appeared in your mind, stringing together bits and pieces until it all made sense.

He knows what will have to happen now. They both do. 

Simon presses his forehead to Johnny’s. “We’ll find her.” 

“An’ bring her home.” 

“No matter what.” 

The rest is left unsaid. 

You’re having a dream.

It’s a lovely one, more of a memory than anything else, but a dream, nonetheless.

“This still feels like a bad idea.” 

“Isnae, ye’ll do great bun. Jus’ the ‘hawk now.” You’ve already finished the sides of his head, which were easy enough, but using actual scissors to cut hair is well outside your wheelhouse. 

“What if I mess it up?” 

“It’s jus’ hair, pretty girl. It grows.” 

“How’s it going out here?” Simon leans out the sliding door, Penny in his arms, and you try to plead with him with wide, nervous eyes. He chuckles. “Looks good so far.” 

“See?” Johnny smiles, one of the big ones that stretches his whole face and makes your knees weak. Penny loves them too, and she claps her hands together, giggling. 

“But… I don’t… I’m going to mess it up.” Johnny stands, warm hands on your arms. 

“Ye could shave me bald and wouldnae mess it up, bun.” You nod, but the acid, noxious taste of worry is still there on your tongue. 

“I just… I…” you’re starting to shake a little, fingers squeezing together. He tugs you into his chest, kisses your temple. 

“Ye’re alright.” 

“I know.” You do know. You’re safe. They’d never hurt you, never betray your trust or even yell at you, but muscle memory doesn’t forget. “I know, I’m sorry.” 

“Ye dinnae have to be sorry.” 

“It’s okay, bunny.” Simon murmurs, but it’s not. 

Is this how you’ll spend your whole life? Afraid? Shaking? 

No. 

Not anymore. 

“If I ruin his hair… it’s not my fault.” Simon chuckles. 

“We’ll blame him.” You turn back to Johnny and put your hands on his shoulders, taking a deep breath, surveying the mop of unruly brown strands, and he covers one of yours with his own. 

“It’s okay. If ye-“ 

“No, I can. I can do it.” You don’t know why you’re so nervous. It’s just a hair cut, for crying out loud, but for some reason it feels like plunging into the deep end of a pool. “Okay,” you breathe, making the first snip. He nods encouragingly and you roll your shoulders. 

“See? Not so bad?” 

“Not so bad.” You cut again and again, trying to manage it all into a proper length, shaping as best you can. 

Each snip, something grows. Your hands tremble a little less, your jaw unclenches, lips flexing upward into your cheeks. You breathe deeper. 

When Johnny turns around, he doesn’t care about his hair, or the slightly uneven chunks, or the fresh clippings on his shirt. 

He cups your face, kissing you before pulling away to rub his thumb across your cheek. 

“There she is.” 

Spring rain. There’s nothing like it.

It washes away the gloom of winter. It’s the turning of a page, the spine of a brand-new book snapped open with a splintering crack. Cabin fever becomes walks in the park, lunches and coffees outside, hanging out on balconies and patios.

Dead things turned to soil now sprouting new life.

Like you, you guess.

You’ve been dead before. If someone looked really closely, they could see it in your eyes. The grey of decay, the separation of iris and pupil. Dead and brought back not quite right, every time. Sally, stitched together incorrectly, the wrong pieces of patchwork, poorly aligned.

Every time he ripped another piece of you away, you found a different one, one less like you, to put in its place.

Every time, until you weren’t you at all. Until you were a girl in a mirror. Until you were a ghost.

It makes sense that you don’t know yourself now, haven’t known for years. On the run, there’s not a lot of time to stop and consider things like that, those pieces. Coffee or tea? Chocolate cake or vanilla? Do you like snow? Do you like the beach? 

Do you like yourself? 

You could have had these answers, you think. Could have learned these things, if it hadn’t turned out the way it did. If Simon and Johnny hadn’t turned out to be a hydra, mouths open, waiting to devour you.

Sunbeam kicks. They nail you in the bladder, and you wince, rubbing over the crest of your belly. “You’re killing me, you know that?” You feel like you’ve been hit by a bus, every day. The aches and pains are never ending, your back and hips screaming by the end of a shift. You can’t sleep, the heartburn makes it hard to eat, you’re never comfortable.

The whole time, you curse them, Simon and Johnny.

Their fault, it’s their fault.

And yours too. 

But no matter how tired, how sore, how cranky you are, you can’t bring yourself to regret it, and in your dreams, it’s like all the bad, all the awful betrayal didn’t even happen. You dream of a family with them, Penny holding her little sibling, the five you together. It’s all been buried in your mind, too deep and nearly impossible to dig out. The visions of them, the longing, the good memories. You’re infested with them.

You didn’t want this. You wanted them, you wanted it all, and that might be the hardest thing about it. You weren’t given a choice, this decision was made for you, taken from you, just like almost everything else.

Except little sunbeam. You wanted them, chose them, will choose them, over and over, forever, keep them safe, make sure they know they’re loved.

No matter what. 

It’s the train, always the train.

Not the long rail train, the commuter train. The one that takes you to and from work, the one that’s sometimes-standing room only, though most people offer you their seat, which is surprisingly kind, compared to where you’re from.

Regardless, you feel the gaze on the train, and no matter how hard you scan, dissect, watch the people around you, there’s nothing. All three faces, three sets of eyes, three profiles, are never anywhere to be seen.

It’s overwhelming, unsettling. The stress of this prickling unease combined with the stress and physical strain of your job is taking its toll on both you and Sunbeam, as the midwife likes to remind you.

Take it easy, take some time off, try to relax. Stay hydrated, eat well.

Yeah… okay.

You rub your belly anxiously, tugging your hood farther over your head, trying to look around without being so obvious.

“Excuse me?” You jolt, startled by a man standing at your elbow, pointing to a vacant spot on a bench. “Would you like my seat?” His smile is subtle, matching an encouraging but not overly intrusive demeanor.

“Sure, thank you so much.” He nods, stepping to the side, into the space between the seat and the divider, close to the door. You try to swing your backpack in front of you, but it gets caught, and he snags it before it falls. “Sorry, thanks.”

“Of course, no problem.” You give him another glance. Really handsome, rich brown eyes you could get lost in. He’s got a baseball cap on, but it’s not pulled down over his face like your hood, he’s not trying to hide. “I’ll move when your stop comes up.”

“Okay, it’s not for a while so, no worries.” He might be kind, but he’s still a stranger, and you’re not going to divulge anything specific. Stranger danger. 

Not everyone is a threat but… 

“How far along are you?” You blink.

“Uh, about twenty-five weeks, give or take a few days.” He nods.

“My wife is due next week; it’s been a rollercoaster.”

“Yeah, it’s not the easiest.” You laugh, a little apprehensive, but also, a little glad, secretly, to have a casual conversation with someone. He sticks his hand out.

“I’m Kyle.” Your tongue rolls with the practiced name you’ve memorized, the one you’ve drilled into yourself over and over again. “Nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, you too.” The next stop is announced, and he moves gracefully, reaching for his bag and tugging it over his shoulder, barely giving you a second glance.

“This is me, have a good day.”

“Thanks.” He doesn’t look over his shoulder at you when he’s getting off, doesn’t watch you through the window from the platform. He’s completely uninterested, and you breathe a sigh of relief.

The box is delivered on a Tuesday.

The Scottish government gives you almost everything you need. Clothes, thermometers, baby books, a changing mat, a mattress, a sheet, a blanket, the list goes on. The box even doubles as a bassinet.

You cry over it. Rifling through everything, tears drip down your cheeks and you bury your face in your hands. You didn’t get to share an ultrasound with anyone, or have a shower, or hold someone’s hand to your belly as sunbeam kicked, but there’s this. A box full of baby stuff, a box that says no matter how hard it is, you and sunbeam will have a good start. Even Sunbeam’s room is halfway sorted at this point, crib set up, dresser half stocked with clothes, collection of diapers and burp cloths and bottles starting to pile up in various places in their room. You’ve made it comfortable, slowly, mix matched furniture and all.

Every day feels like a year, but as each one passes, you slowly adjust to a new normal, a new life. Something you made, again, from scratch, for yourself, your survival.

And now, for Sunbeam.

One day, maybe it will feel like home.

You really need to stop buying so much crap at the store.

You practically have to drag your grocery loot into the elevator, bags overflowing with fruit, vegetables, cans of formula. Random cleaning products, stuff for baby proofing, a new candle.

Apparently, some call this nesting. You just call it annoying.

You lean against the wall and close your eyes for a moment, shifting your weight to alleviate the pressure on your spine.

Thirty weeks.

Ten weeks left.

Ten weeks left. It’s wild to even think about, to even say to yourself, or out loud. You’re going to be a mom in ten weeks. Going to have a whole human depending on you for every single thing, in ten weeks.

You’ll be alone, with a newborn, in ten weeks.

Alone.

It still aches. Stings. Salt in the wound-

Lit end of a cigarette against your skin.

You instinctively cup your belly, thumb rubbing over where one of your burn scars has been stretched by Sunbeam, and shiver.

You’re fine. You’re safe. Get it together.

“We’re home!” You announce to no one, no one except Gus the goldfish who’s swimming circles around his bowl. You got him two weeks ago on an impulse, following a pathetic, sad desire all the way to the pet store.

It’d be nice to have something to come home to. 

You tap a few flakes into the water and watch him gobble them up, oddly soothed by his presence in the flat.

This is how far you’ve fallen. Taking comfort in a damn goldfish.

You blow out a breath and fall onto the couch, swinging your legs up onto the cushions, dragging the pillows under your ankles, or what used to be your ankles. They’re more like overstuffed sausages now, tops of your sneakers cutting into your skin. Every chance you get, you’re finding places to sit at work, caught yourself leaning most of your weight on your patient’s beds, more than once. Thankfully, your coworkers are overwhelmingly understanding.

And when you come home, you do this. Collapse on the couch. Talk to a goldfish, or Sunbeam, or both.

The oddest trio: Mom, baby, goldfish.

You manage to limit yourself to three bites of ice cream before putting the carton away in the freezer. You’re supposed to be watching your sugar intake, apparently, not because you’re at risk for gestational diabetes, but because Sunbeam is already projected to be on the bigger side.

You look mournfully at container, spoon still in hand.

One more. What’s it going to hurt? One more bite isn’t going to turn Sunbeam into a giant, it’s-

Knuckles rap against your door.

Your blood goes cold, colder than ice, and you instinctively find the floor, crouching by the fridge, using it to shield yourself, keeping away from the door’s direct line of sight.

The knocking gets louder.

Someone’s saying something on the other side of the door, but you can’t hear it over the buzzing, beeping sound in your ears.

How. 

How? How did it happen so fast? Where did you fuck up? 

The fear you once felt for yourself pales in comparison to the true fear you feel now. You’re supposed to protect Sunbeam, supposed to keep them safe.

You’re supposed to be a mom. 

A sob claws its way out, and you clap your palm over your mouth, agony squeezing your heart, panic clutching your throat in a vise, choking off your air, throttling you until you’re gasping.

You should run, should sprint into the bedroom and grab the gun from under your mattress, should start crawling out the window to the fire escape.

You should do these things, but instead, you’re trapped, immobile, watching with horror as the deadbolt turns horizontal, sliding the lock free with a bloodcurdling click.

Your baby. You were supposed to keep your baby safe. 

You failed. 

You stand, so unsteady you have to support your weight by leaning against the counter. The only thing in here are kitchen knives, and you rip two from the block, one hiding behind your back, the other brandished in front of your body like a sword.

You’re going to die. 

But not without a fight. 

Tears wet your cheeks. “I’m sorry,” you choke, sliding a hand over little Sunbeam, “I’m so- so sorry.”

The creak of the door handle is unmistakable, a metal whine scraping against the frame. You close your eyes.

“Bunny.”

Your heart stops.

The men you thought love you are standing just inside your kitchen, the sight of them turning your stomach, their eyes flicking between you and the shiny, sharp knife in your hand.

Johnny inches forward, his voice a low, gentle murmur, one that cracks your heart. “It’s okay pretty girl, we’re here to take ye home.”

“Get away from me.” The knife is practically rattling in your hand.

"It's alright. We’d never hurt ye, either of ye. We know what ye saw and-“

“N-no,” you sob, voice cracking, shoulders shaking, “don’t come near me.”

“Put that down, sweet girl, it’s alright.” Simon edges around the counter, caution and wary weighing his steps. They’re supposed to be muffled you think, soft, but they ring so loud.

“Stop!”

“Just let us explain, give us a minute-“

“I saw you! I saw you w-with him.” Your vision is blurred by tears, and you look down at your belly, desperate. “Just let us go, please. Don’t- don’t let him-“

“Listen to me, sweetheart. We have nothing to do with Phillip.” His name makes your flinch, and you inch backwards.

“You know him.”

“We do. He tried to kill us, betrayed us, on a mission. Nearly succeeded with Johnny.” The words conflict, mash together into a scramble you don’t understand. It doesn’t make sense.

More lies. 

“I don’t believe you.”

“I know, I know you don’t. I wouldn’t if I was in your position either, but we’re telling the truth.” You shake your head.

“No. You’re just… you’re just trying to trick me.”

“We’re not,” Johnny murmurs, “We’ve always told ye the truth, bun. And we’d never hurt ye.” He steps forward. It’s too close, way too close, and you pivot, both knives still clutched in your hands.

“Put them down.” Simon instructs, a little bit of steel in his voice now. He can obviously see the one behind your back, and your heart starts to sink.

There’s no way out. You should have run when you had the chance. 

Stupid.

The girl in the mirror stays silent. She says nothing.

For all you know, she’s dead already. Killing blow dealt by your own hand.

You think about Sunbeam, all warm and safe, protected from the world, and despair swells in your chest, an entire ocean beneath your feet, waiting to swallow you up, drag you down and drown you.

“Now, sweetheart. We don’t want you to hurt yourself.” You laugh. It’s a sickly, nervous thing, too tinny and high pitched.

You’re falling apart. You’re not a fighter, you’re a runner, shot lame in a race rigged against you from the beginning. They’re closing in, wolves stalking the bleeding lamb between them, predators about to fall on prey.

 ���Don’t,” whisper, fingers tightening around the knife in front of your body, unable to hold it steady through the trembling.

“Bunny, listen to us, please.” Johnny is reaching and you get trapped in his gaze, spiraling into the swirl of misery and fear, mirroring your own. “I love ye, we love ye. Ye belong with us, at home, where we can keep ye safe.” You slam your eyes shut, trying to block him out. “I’ve loved ye since the day I opened m’eyes and saw ye leaning over the bed. We’d never hurt ye, we jus’ want to take ye home.”

Out of the corner of your eye, Simon moves. One powerful, huge step, and he’s on you, grabbing your arm, applying pressure to your knuckles to release the knife.

You scream. It’s instinct. Everything shuts down, narrowing down to one objective.

Run.

“Johnny,” he half shouts over your keening, holding gentle pressure against your arm as you try to rip yourself free. “Shhh, it’s okay, you’re okay.” You thrash, trying to twist out of his grip, shoulder shrieking in pain, and he goes with your momentum, providing slack so there’s no tension in your arm. “Stop, you’re going to hurt yourself sweetheart, you’re okay.”

You’re not. 

You’re not okay. You’ll never be okay. 

The walls close in, and it all becomes so clear. Your future, what will happen if they take you, if you leave here with them.

They’ll take Sunbeam. They’ll turn you over to Phillip, throw you out like trash, and you’ll die.

Are you going to let it happen, just like you let everything else? Are you going to roll over? Let it all be stolen, again and again? 

No. 

Simon reaches for the other knife and you swing it wide, slicing through the air until the blade meets flesh.

He hisses. Blood spills, drips down the handle, coats your fingers, and you stand there, frozen, gobsmacked.

Did you- 

Did you just- 

“Johnny,” he barks, but it barely registers, you’re too transfixed by the blood, hypnotized by it, too entranced to even register Johnny at your side, too stunned to see what’s in his hand.

A needle. 

He whispers your name, cradles your face-

And then everything goes black.

[scoupsakakitty]

Hiii can i request something like this mingyu's story, so basically a oneshot maybe longer oneshot 🛐🛐🛐 so yeah they meet again maybe mingyu recognize her but she doesn't recognized him until mingyu told her so yeah and the story continues HAHAHAHA

https://vt.tiktok.com/ZS6QD4gYn/

Childhood Love | idol!Mingyu x Reader | fluff

The sound of chatter and laughter filled the café as Y/N walked in, her fingers brushing against the strap of her bag. It had been a long day, and she needed a moment to relax. She ordered her usual latte and scanned the room for an empty table.

At the corner of the café, Kim Mingyu froze mid-sip of his Americano. His eyes widened as he watched her. It had been over a decade, but he would recognize her anywhere. The confident posture, the thoughtful way she glanced around it was all the same.

“Y/N…” he whispered to himself, a nostalgic smile creeping onto his lips.

He thought he’d forgotten about her. Life had moved on, and so had he debuting with Seventeen, countless schedules, and fame that had taken him far from the quiet town where they’d first met. But there she was, the girl who had stolen his nine-year-old heart without even knowing it.

Mingyu hadn’t planned to approach her at first. Maybe it wasn’t the right time. Maybe she wouldn’t remember him. But as fate would have it, Y/N ended up taking a seat just a table away from his.

“Mingyu, don’t overthink it,” he muttered under his breath, taking another sip of his coffee for courage.

He finally stood up and walked over, clearing his throat softly. “Excuse me, but… is your name Y/N?”

Y/N looked up, slightly startled. Her eyes met his, and she tilted her head, studying his face. “Yes, that’s me. Have we met before?”

Mingyu chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m not surprised you don’t recognize me. It’s been a long time. I’m Mingyu. Kim Mingyu. We were in the same class in elementary school.”

Her brows furrowed in concentration as she tried to place him. “Kim Mingyu… Wait, were you the tall kid who always forgot his homework?”

He laughed, a deep, familiar sound that tugged at something in her memory. “Guilty. And you were the class president who always reminded me to turn it in.”

Y/N’s eyes widened in realization, her lips parting in surprise. “Oh my God, Mingyu! I can’t believe this.”

“Believe it,” he said with a grin, taking a seat across from her without asking. “It’s really been that long, hasn’t it?”

She nodded, still processing the sudden reunion. “It has. I think the last time I saw you was… when I transferred schools? I was, what, nine?”

“Yeah,” Mingyu said softly. “You just disappeared one day. I didn’t even get to say goodbye.”

The atmosphere shifted slightly, a wave of nostalgia settling between them. Y/N smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry about that. It all happened so quickly. My parents decided to move, and before I knew it, I was in a new school.”

“I figured as much,” Mingyu said. “But I always wondered how you were doing.”

Over the next hour, they caught up, sharing stories of what had happened since those childhood days. Y/N talked about her career, her hobbies, and how much she missed the simpler days of childhood. Mingyu, on the other hand, hesitated to bring up his fame.

“So, what do you do now?” she asked, genuinely curious.

Mingyu shifted in his seat, a sheepish smile on his face. “Well… I’m in a group. A K-pop group, actually. Seventeen.”

Her jaw dropped slightly. “Wait, the Seventeen? You’re kidding.”

He laughed. “Nope. That’s me. I guess I grew up a bit from the kid who couldn’t even remember his homework.”

Y/N shook her head in disbelief. “I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you right away. I’ve seen your posters everywhere.”

“You didn’t recognize me because I don’t look like the nine-year-old kid you used to boss around,” Mingyu teased, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

She laughed, and the sound sent a rush of warmth through him. He had missed this missed her.

As the conversation continued, Mingyu found himself unable to hold back any longer. There was something he had to say, something he had carried with him for years.

“Y/N,” he began, his tone more serious now. “Can I tell you something?”

“Of course,” she said, leaning in slightly.

“When we were kids… I had the biggest crush on you.”

Her eyes widened in surprise, and a soft blush crept up her cheeks. “You did?”

He nodded, his smile turning a bit shy. “Yeah. You were always so smart and confident. You didn’t even notice me half the time, but I thought you were amazing.”

Y/N blinked, a mix of emotions flashing across her face. “I had no idea.”

“I figured,” Mingyu said with a laugh. “You were focused on being the perfect class president. And then you left, and I never got the chance to tell you. But now that you’re here… I couldn’t keep it to myself.”

Y/N smiled warmly, her gaze softening. “Mingyu, that’s really sweet. I’m sorry I was too busy being bossy to notice back then.”

“Hey, it’s okay. It was a long time ago,” he said, though his heart raced as he looked at her. “But maybe… we could make up for lost time now?”

Her smile widened, and she nodded. “I’d like that.”

As they left the café together, Mingyu couldn’t help but feel like fate had given him a second chance. The childhood crush he thought he’d lost forever was now walking beside him, and this time, he wasn’t going to let her slip away.

————————————————————————————-

[luvst4rc0r3]

OMG I LOVE UR FANFICS!!

PLZ WRITE MORE SERIES!!

Can you write (if you want) a jinx x f!reader were reader’s first language is not English but another language. And she has a son whose first language is English and he always complains about taking classes. So jinx pulls them out of classes and that makes reader very mad. (basically Gloria from modern family)

It can be any language just ofc not English

TYY IF YOU DO IT

OMG I LOVE THIS REQUEST!!!

I did it in my native language. English is my first but Tagalog (Filipino)is kinda my second asides from Spanish. I can kinda of speak Tagalog just not fluently.

“Lost in translation”

Jinx x F!Reader

WC: 1427

NOTE: established relationship. I did have to use google translate for some words so it might not be grammatically correct.

THIS ALSO MIGHT BE MY LAST FANFIC FOR A COUPLE DAYS BC I HAVE MIDTERMS

“Jinx, what the hell were you thinking?”

You stood in the center of the small apartment, your arms crossed tightly over your chest. Jinx leaned against the counter, her casual stance a stark contrast to the storm brewing inside you.

“I was thinking the kid hates it,” she shot back with a shrug, twirling a wrench in her hand. “Why make him sit through something that makes him miserable?”

Your heart clenched. “He needs to learn it. He needs to—” You hesitated, stumbling over your words as your thoughts tripped over each other, fighting to come out in English. “It’s important for him to know… to understand—”

Jinx rolled her eyes, her tone dismissive. “He’s a kid. He doesn’t need a million things crammed into his head. He’s fine just the way he is.”

“Fine?” you echoed, your voice trembling. “Jinx, it’s not just about school. It’s about him knowing who he is. Who I am. You think it’s easy for me, being stuck in the middle of two languages all the time?”

She frowned, her smirk faltering for the first time. “I didn’t say it was easy—”

“You didn’t even ask me!” you interrupted, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “You just pulled him out without even thinking about what it means!”

Jinx tilted her head, her electric blue eyes narrowing. “He’s my kid too, y’know. I’m not trying to hurt anyone. I just didn’t think it was a big deal.”

Her words hit you like a slap, and suddenly, the English words you’d been clutching at fell away, leaving nothing but raw emotion. Your chest heaved, and before you knew it, tears blurred your vision.

Jinx’s face shifted, the confidence draining from her expression. “Hey, whoa, babe, don’t cry—”

But you couldn’t stop. The frustration and exhaustion, the endless translating in your head, the constant feeling of being misunderstood—it all came pouring out in a language she didn’t understand.

“Ang hirap na hirap na ako, Jinx. Hindi mo naiintindihan. Hindi mo alam kung gaano kasakit na hindi ko masabi nang maayos ang nararamdaman ko.” (I'm in such a difficult situation, Jinx. You don't understand. You don't know how much it hurts that I can't express my feelings properly.)

You covered your face with your hands, your body shaking with sobs. “I just want him to know me,” you managed to choke out, your voice breaking. “I want him to understand me without me having to fight for every word.”

Jinx froze, the wrench clattering to the floor. She stepped closer, unsure and unsteady, like she was walking on glass.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, her voice low and raw with something you didn’t hear from her often—guilt.

You didn’t respond, your tears falling harder. Jinx reached out, her gloved hand hesitating before resting on your knee.

“I thought I was making things better for him. I didn’t think about how it would hurt you.”

You sniffled, shaking your head but still unable to look at her. “It does not just hurt, Jinx,” you whispered, the words coming out shakily. “It’s… I’m tired. I’m tired of fighting with my own head, trying to make everything make sense in English just so I can talk to you, or him, or anyone.”

Jinx’s hand tightened slightly, grounding you, as if to say she was listening.

“I just… I feel like I don’t belong anywhere,” you continued, your voice cracking. “Not here. Not at home. And now, our son… he doesn’t even want to learn the one thing that connects him to where I come from. To me. And you just let him quit. You made the decision like it didn’t matter.”

Your words hung in the air, heavy and raw. Jinx’s usual chaotic energy had vanished; she looked like someone had ripped the ground out from under her.

“I didn’t know,” she said after a moment, her voice soft but steady. “Of course you didn’t. You never think of anyone except yourself” with that you slammed the door to your shared room with her.

—

You stood in the doorway, your bag slung over your shoulder. Your hands shook as you clutched the strap, the heaviness in your chest unbearable. Jinx stood across the room, her wild hair and mismatched clothes somehow looking smaller, like she didn’t know what to do with herself

“Wait,” she said, her voice softer than you’d ever heard it. “You’re leaving?”

You nodded, your throat tightening as tears threatened to spill again. “I just… I need space, Jinx. I need time to think.”

Her brows furrowed, her lips parting like she wanted to argue, but no words came. For once, Jinx didn’t fight. She just stood there, the chaos in her usually vibrant eyes dimmed by something deeper.

“I love you,” you said, your voice breaking, “but I can’t keep doing this if you don’t try to understand. It’s too much.”

The silence in the room was deafening, and when you finally stepped out and closed the door behind you, it felt like your heart was breaking in two.

The days passed slowly. You stayed at a friend’s place, letting the quiet moments give you the space to breathe. But no matter how hard you tried, thoughts of Jinx and your son kept creeping in. The weight of the fight lingered in your chest, heavy and unresolved.

You told yourself you just needed a little more time. That maybe Jinx would realize how important this was—not just to you, but to your family.

And then, three days after you left, you came home.

The apartment was quiet when you walked in, and for a moment, you wondered if she was even there. But then you heard it.

“Kamusta.”(Hello)

You froze, your bag slipping from your shoulder as you turned toward the sound. Jinx stood in the middle of the living room, her hands fidgeting nervously with the hem of her shirt.

“What?” you asked, your heart pounding.

She cleared her throat, her cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and determination. “Kamusta,” she said again, the word clumsy but recognizable. “That means… uh, hello? Right?”

You blinked, stunned. “Y-yeah.”

Her lips twitched into a small, nervous smile. “I’ve been trying,” she said, stumbling over the words. “I… I looked up some stuff. It’s… hard, but I wanna learn. I wanna…”

She trailed off, her electric blue eyes meeting yours with a rare vulnerability. “Ayaw ko… um…” She fumbled for a moment, clearly struggling to remember the phrase. “Ayaw kong… mag-translate ka… araw-araw.” (I don’t…I don’t want you to have to translate everyday)

Your heart clenched at the effort in her voice, the way she fought through every syllable. “I don’t… I don’t want you to have to translate every day. I love you,” she added in English, her voice shaking slightly.

Tears welled in your eyes as you took a step closer. “Jinx…” you smile widely, “now you’re the one who looks like an idiot!”

She chuckles softly but soon returns to her straight face. “I’m serious, okay? I… I’m not good at this, but I’m gonna try. I’ll keep learning. And he’s gonna learn, too. I already talked to him. Told him he’s sticking with it. I don’t care how much he complains—I’ll sit with him if I have to. We’ll both learn.”

You couldn’t stop the tears now, your hand flying to your mouth as you let out a shaky breath.

“I didn’t get it before,” she continued, her voice soft but steady. “But I do now. I don’t want you to feel like you’re doing this alone. Or like we don’t see you—really see you. You shouldn’t have to fight for that.”

She hesitated, then stepped closer, her hands reaching for yours. “I’ll learn Tagalog for you. For us. Because I love you. And I don’t wanna lose you.”

A sob broke free from your chest as you wrapped your arms around her, pulling her close. Her arms tightening around you, and for the first time in days, you felt like you could finally breathe again.

“Salamat,” you whispered through your tears. (Thank you)

Jinx chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to your hair. “Walang anuman. That’s how you say ‘you’re welcome,’ right?”

You laughed, your heart aching in the best way. “Yeah. That’s right.”

Her grin widened, a little of her usual spark returning. “Told ya. I’m a fast learner.”

And in that moment, as the weight in your chest began to lift, you believed her. Together, you’d figure it out.

for once, her chaos felt like home.

TYY whoever requested that!! That was such and interesting requests to write!!

I want food

[moody-alcoholic]

Cross My Heart

Part 4- Forced Proximity

Summary: eventual poly141 x reader. Enemies to lovers, mini fic.

CW: medical stuff, use of weapons, cannon typical violence, death.

AN: 2 parts in under 24 hours? I have to focus on my main projects I can't focus with this part sitting in my drafts.

Previous parts - masterlist - next

AO3

“You’re really going to make me go into Al Qatala territory with nothing?” You ask as Ghost prepares his weapon. 

“What do you mean you’re going in with the best of us.” Soap says winking at you. You frown at him looking back over at Ghost. 

“Just give me my pistol back. What? You think I'm going to shoot him?” You scoff. There’s silence in the room, you look around. Yes, yes they do think that. You sigh, zipping your jacket up and going over to the door. 

You wait in silence as Ghost comes to stand next to you. He’s dressed in full gear and you’re in basic clothes, not even anything camouflaged. 

“Here.” Gaz comes over to you handing you a radio and an earpiece. You frown at him. 

“I don’t know how to use this.” You say. 

“You’ll figure it out.” He says walking back over to the sofa with Price who’s been watching you the whole time. You clip the radio onto your belt and put the earpiece in fiddling with what you think is the volume tuner. 

“Ready?” Ghost asks. You look up at him and nod. “How far is this place again?” 

“A few kilometres east.” You respond. He reaches over, handing you a knife hilt first. You almost want to laugh at him. 

“Can’t do much with a knife.” You say, it’s spitfull, you want your gun back. You take the knife regardless.

“You can do alot with a knife.” He says and reaches down opening the door and walking out into the night. 

“Good luck.” Price calls. You look back at him and nod. 

You tuck the knife into your belt and follow Ghost into the darkness. 

…

“How did you know about this place?” Ghost asks as you make it to the entrance of the town.

“It was taken over by Al Qatala about a year ago. Been pretty much abandoned since then.” You say, the wind has picked up and you can see thick clouds in the sky blocking out the light from the moon.

“The ULF don’t come this far north, it’s a good way point for smugglers.” You say. You’ve passed through here many times. 

“You really seem to hate the ULF.” He says as a matter of fact.

“They’re both as bad as each other. If anything Konni have been the best, at least for work.” 

“Doesn’t bother you, they're helping terrorists.” He says, there's a bitterness in his voice. 

“The ULF killed my father in a hospital.” You say, anger rises in you. “I never got to say goodbye, I never got to see his body.” 

“You said your mum worked for them.” 

“She did, she was killed by Al Qatala, she was working for Farah.” You say, he doesn’t say anything. You make it to the top of the street. 

“Right.” You say pointing down the road. You walk down in silence, there are some streetlights working rigged up by whoever is using this town for now. 

“What about you? You’re British living a comfy life. What are you doing here?” You ask. 

“We’re after someone.” 

“In Al Qatala? It’s pretty clear you’re friendly with the queen bee.” He shakes his head.

“No.” He says stopping. You hum looking over at him. His eyes are darting around. You look into the darkness of the town, you can’t see or hear anything. 

“Ever killed anyone?” He asks suddenly and keeps walking. 

“Maybe.” You say trying to sound confident. “Why should it matter, you’re a soldier, you took an oath before you killed people. At least I’m doing it to keep innocent people alive.” 

“You smuggle people for Konni, Makarov.”

“I’ve smuggled people for the ULF too, like I said, I work for whoever pays.” He scoffs. You’re surprised, he usually seems so reserved. There’s a reason for the mask. 

“Proper opportunist aren't you?” You can hear the sarcasm in his voice. 

“Fuck you.” You snap, shaking your head. You go turn the corner ignoring his remarks. Suddenly he grabs your arm and pulls you between some buildings. 

“Get the fuck off-” he slams his hand over your mouth pulling you against his chest. You start to fight him then you hear voices. You stop struggling as they get closer.

“The place is empty, why are we back here?” You hear one of them say in arabic. 

“Khaled wants to take this place over. Use it to cut off the ULF movements.” Someone else replies. Does Ghost understand arabic? You assume he doesn’t. 

“I thought I would be home with my family before the end of the month.” 

“When was the last time you saw them?” The other asks as you watch them pass past you. 

“10 months ago.” 

“You’ll see them soon, mashallah.” They walk out your view, their lights fading, leaving you back in darkness. Ghost’s hand leaves your mouth, your heart is hammering in your chest. He lets you stand up, releasing his grip round you. You want to thank him, they would have killed you if they’d seen you. How did he even hear them coming?

“Let's move.” he whispers, pushing past you out towards the street. You follow him close as you walk out into the street, sticking close to the buildings and following the shadows. 

“Up there to the left.” You say pointing at a building ahead of you both. The place is surrounded by a chain link fence. The building looks more rundown than you remember.

“Round the back there's a smashed in door, I doubt it’s been repaired.” You say behind Ghost, still trying to keep your voice low. 

“Copy.” He says. You let him lead, following him close to the building. He pulls something off his vest cutting the links in the fence. He holds it open, nodding at you to sneak through. You go through first heading over to the door. It’s open, you can see from here. You just hope the place hasn’t been raided too hard. 

The place is dark, there are no lights, no electricity. Ghost comes in behind you clicking on a torch. He hands you another one, you take it out his hands turning it on and shining it over the signs. 

“Who taught you English?” He asks. 

“My parents said if I wanted to go anywhere in life I should learn English. I was brought up speaking both.” You keep the fact you can speak Russian silent. Don’t ask, don’t tell. The more advantages you have over them the better. 

“Here.” You say shining the torch over a room that says surgery. The room looks like it’s just been closed up for the night. Cupboards are still full of sterile supplies. That's good, you should be able to find everything you need.

“I’m going to check for other supplies. Are you good here?”  You look over at him nodding and pick up a bag off the counter, you watch him leave the doorway and head into another room down the hall.

You’re not going to be able to find drugs. Price could use local anaesthesia and antibiotics, you don’t even know where to start with human medicine, never mind dog medicine. You recognise tools though, sealed sterile gloves and tweezers, scalpels and plenty of different bandages and gauze. 

You turn in the room walking round the table and over to the other side looking for wraps, something you can use to make a somewhat sterile field. You try to remember what you’ve seen from interning at the hospital for the last few years. You smile as you fill the bag, your parents were right, in the end the education was useful. 

Suddenly you hear a crash, grunting. Someone's in the building. There's an audible grunt, the sound punches, scraping of furniture. There’s no gunfire, you rush over to the hallway following the noise. You can see lights flashing in a room, you burst through the door.

It’s hand to hand contact, they’re fighting on the floor, the stranger is on top of Ghost. You’re not thinking, if Ghost dies they’ll kill you. No matter what you say they’ll kill you. Your hand feels for the knife in your belt.

The man on top of Ghost looks bigger, he's not wearing any body armor, Ghost's weapon flung to the side. You don’t have time to think you take the knife off your waist and jump at the guy on Ghost, plunging it into the man's neck. Blood spurts out covering you all. There’s no noise, you hit the carotid. 

His body goes limp after a few seconds and you stand up. Ghost pushes the body off him. You reach out offering him your hand. He hesitates for a second before accepting it and you pull him up. 

“Hurry up, we need to go.” He says reaching down to pull the knife out his neck. He wipes it on his leg before handing it back to you.

“Fuck me, not even a thank you.” You scoff putting the knife back on your hip. You leave the room going back into the surgery. You pack the last of the gauze and whatever sterile supplies you can find. An opened scalpel falls on the floor making you jump. 

It still has the cover over the blade. You’ll have to give the knife back to Ghost but the scalpel, it’s small, no one would know you have it. 

“Let’s go.” Ghost calls sticking his head in the room before leaving back towards the back door. You look at the scalpel on the floor. 

If you take it and they find it they could kill you. If you leave it you have no way to defend yourself either way. You sigh looking over at the door. 

How easy it would be to betray them.

..

It’s raining when you make it back to the safe house. They’ve piled the bodies up in the shed. They probably won’t get any kind of funeral until Farah’s troops get here, even then if she learns who they are they’ll most likely be dumped somewhere. Or buried in a mass grave, not like the commander in Chief of the ULF has time for Russian Al Qatala operatives. 

“What happened!?” Soap asks, rushing up to Ghost. The rain washed most of the blood off you both, but not all. 

“Nothing. Just a slight complication.” You shake your head going over to the sofa and putting the bags down. Price looks up at you, you smile at him. 

“Can I get cleaned up?” You ask the room. 

“Yeah.” Price says. You walk over to Ghost being fussed over by Soap. You tap him on the shoulder and he turns to look at you. You hold the knife out for him. 

“Here.” You say. He takes it out of your hand but doesn’t say anything. You huff pressing your lips together, you didn’t expect anything. You turn to head up to the bathroom. 

“Thanks.” He calls. It stops you in your tracks. You turn back and nod at him. The scalpel you hid in your waistband suddenly feels like a lead weight. 

Banners by plum98

[blondemrk]

hellooo could i request a 7dream reaction fic? how they would react if their partner was getting hit on - but before they can do anything, y/n's already fighting back at the creep LMAO

°˖ reaction to their partner being hit on ១

p nctdream × fem!reader w.c 4.6k t.w suggestive.

mark

mark had been keeping an eye on you from the start of the night. it wasn’t that he didn’t trust you—he did completely—but he knew how people could get, especially in a crowded place like this. while chatting with the others, he made sure to glance in your direction every now and then, his protective instincts always on alert.

it was during one of those quick glances that he noticed the guy approach you. leaning casually against the bar, the stranger’s smirk was all too familiar—the type of confidence that reeked of entitlement. mark’s grip tightened on his drink as he watched the interaction unfold.

"you are so gorgeous," the guy began, his tone dripping with rehearsed charm. "how about i buy you a drink?"

mark’s body stiffened. he sat forward, ready to intervene, but before he could even get up, he heard your voice cut through the air.

"wow, how original," you said dryly, not bothering to mask your sarcasm. "no thanks—i’m fine without the drink, and without you."

mark couldn’t help but smirk a little at your boldness. still, he stayed on high alert, watching the guy’s reaction.

the man chuckled nervously, trying to play it cool. "don’t be like that. i’m just trying to be nice."

you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms in front of you. "if you were being nice, you’d take the hint and walk away. but since you’re still here, let me make it even clearer: i’m not interested. go bother someone else who has the patience to deal with your nonsense."

mark stood up, his jaw tightening as he made his way toward you. the guy still hadn’t moved, clearly not taking your words seriously. by the time mark reached you, the tension was palpable. he stepped in without hesitation, placing a protective hand on your waist.

"she said she’s not interested," mark said firmly, his tone calm but carrying an unmistakable edge. "i think it’s time for you to leave."

the guy’s eyes flicked to mark, and for a moment, he looked like he wanted to argue. but one glance at mark’s unflinching expression and his broad frame was enough to change his mind. muttering something under his breath, the man finally turned and disappeared into the crowd.

mark’s gaze followed him until he was out of sight before he turned his attention back to you. his hand stayed on your waist as his eyes softened, his concern now fully focused on you. "are you okay?" he asked, his voice low but gentle.

you smirked, brushing it off like it was nothing. "he was annoying. i wasn’t going to let him ruin my night."

mark let out a soft laugh, shaking his head as he cupped your cheek with his free hand. his thumb brushed against your skin, his admiration for you clear in his eyes. "you handed that so well. i still don’t want anyone bothering my girl again tonight," he murmured, his voice dropping to a tender tone. "how about you stick with me for the rest of the night, hm?"

you smiled, leaning into his touch as the tension from the encounter melted away. "sounds like a good plan to me," you said softly, your confidence still shining through.

mark smiles, leaving a kiss on your forehead. "lets go. i'll buy you a drink instead beautiful"

renjun

renjun is the observant type, and tonight is no exception. while the others are engrossed in their conversations, he’s casually scanning the room, his sharp eyes picking up on the subtle shifts in the crowd. that’s when he notices him—the guy standing a little too close to you at the bar. renjun’s easy smile falters as he watches the man lean in, his body language screaming overconfidence.

"you look like someone who appreciates good company," the guy says, his tone dripping with smugness.

renjun sets down his drink, the tightening of his jaw the only indication of his irritation. he’s already preparing to intervene, his mind running through possible ways to defuse the situation, but then he hears your response—sharp and cutting, with no room for misunderstanding.

"good company?" you repeat, raising an eyebrow. "is that what you think you are? because all i see is someone who doesn’t know how to read the room."

the guy laughs nervously, clearly not expecting such a blunt rejection. he tries to play it cool, his smirk faltering but still present. "wow, okay. feisty. i like that."

you let out a dry laugh, your expression turning colder. "you liking something about me doesn’t mean i owe you my time. so why don’t you take that ‘good company’ somewhere else before you embarrass yourself further?"

renjun can’t hide the smirk that tugs at his lips as he watches the guy flounder. by now, renjun has made his way to your side, standing just behind the man with his arms crossed. the subtle shift in your expression when you notice him doesn’t go unnoticed by renjun, and he takes that as his cue to step in.

"is there a problem here?" renjun asks, his voice calm but carrying a quiet authority that instantly shifts the energy. the guy freezes, caught off guard by renjun’s sudden presence.

the creep mutters something unintelligible—an excuse, an apology, maybe both—before hastily backing off and disappearing into the crowd. renjun’s gaze lingers on him for a moment, ensuring he’s truly gone before he turns his attention back to you.

"you know," renjun begins, his tone light but tinged with amusement, "i was ready to step in, but you didn’t even give me a chance."

you shrug, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you pick up your drink. "he was annoying. i just wanted him gone. no need to waste time entertaining nonsense."

renjun chuckles softly, his eyes glinting with admiration. he places his hands on your waist, rubbing his thumb in circles on your skin. "remind me to never get on your bad side, y/n. you’re scary when you want to be."

you roll your eyes playfully, leaning back against the bar. "you? getting on my bad side? that would require you to actually be annoying, renjun. and you’re… well, tolerable."

renjun lets out a mock gasp, clutching his chest dramatically. "tolerable? i’ll take that as a compliment"

you laugh, the tension from the earlier interaction melting away as you fall into an easy rhythm with renjun. but while his expression is light, his actions are more telling. for the rest of the night, he stays close to you—not hovering, but always within reach.

every now and then, he throws a teasing comment your way, something to make you laugh and forget the earlier encounter. but he also keeps a sharp eye on your surroundings, his observant nature ensuring that no one else gets the bright idea to approach you uninvited.

at one point, when someone brushes past you a little too closely, renjun instinctively steps forward, his hand lightly grazing your back as he murmurs, "you okay?"

you nod, offering him a reassuring smile. "yeah im okay dont worry.."

he smirks, leaning just close enough for you to hear over the music. "i know. but it doesn’t hurt to me here does it?"

he smiles, pulling you towards him. "cant have anyone taking you away from me now can i?"

jeno

jeno notices the creep the moment they approach you. he’s been keeping an eye on you all night, watching from a short distance to make sure you’re comfortable and enjoying yourself. but the way this guy slides into your space, leaning in like he owns the world, sets off every protective instinct in jeno’s body.

the man’s body language screams entitlement, his smirk almost as irritating as his words. "come on, don’t play hard to get. you know you’re enjoying this," the guy says, his tone dripping with arrogance.

jeno’s fists clench at his sides, his jaw tightening as he begins to move toward you, but before he can reach you, he hears your sharp, unwavering voice cut through the noise.

"enjoying this? oh, absolutely," you say, spinning around to face the guy. your tone is laced with sarcasm, your expression unflinching. "who wouldn’t enjoy being harassed by someone who clearly can’t take a hint?"

the guy blinks, clearly caught off guard by your boldness. his confidence wavers for a moment before he tries to recover, plastering on a smug grin. "you don’t have to be so mean, sweetheart. i’m just saying you’re beautiful. no need to get so worked up."

your eyes narrow, the irritation in your gaze enough to make jeno pause in admiration. he loves seeing you stand your ground, but his protective instincts are still on overdrive. he continues toward you, his strides purposeful, but you’re not finished yet.

taking a deliberate step closer to the guy, you tilt your head slightly, your tone colder now. "and i’m just saying that your ‘compliments’ are unwelcome. so why don’t you do yourself a favor and walk away before i call someone to escort you out? or do you want everyone here to see just how pathetic you are?"

the guy’s smirk falters completely, his bravado slipping under your unwavering glare. he stammers, clearly unsure of how to respond. that’s when jeno finally steps in, his presence looming as he positions himself between you and the guy.

placing a firm hand on the guy’s back, jeno grabs a fistful of the man’s shirt, yanking him a step back from you. his voice is calm, but there’s no mistaking the steel in his tone. "you heard my girlfriend. leave. now."

the guy mutters something under his breath—an attempt at saving face—but jeno doesn’t care enough to listen. he gives him a little push toward the crowd, watching as the creep quickly disappears into the sea of people, his arrogance now replaced by embarrassment.

turning back to you, jeno’s expression softens immediately. his shoulders relax as he takes in the way you’re still standing tall, a slight smirk tugging at your lips. he lets out a low chuckle, the tension in his body easing now that the guy is gone. "hey, baby," he murmurs, stepping closer to you. "you okay?"

you smile, brushing a strand of hair out of your face as you meet his gaze. "of course. i wasn’t going to let him get away with that."

jeno grins, his hands finding your waist as he pulls you into his arms. he holds you tightly, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head before leaning back just enough to meet your eyes. "you’re incredible, you know that? but next time, let me handle it, okay? i don’t want you stressing over anything. that’s my job."

you roll your eyes playfully, but your smile is warm as you rest your hands on his chest. "i wasn’t stressing. i’ve dealt with worse. but i’ll admit, watching you swoop in like that was kind of hot."

jeno laughs, the sound low and warm as he leans in closer, his forehead resting against yours. "oh, so you liked the whole knight-in-shining-armor thing? good to know. i’ll make sure to keep that energy up."

you laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck. "just don’t make a habit of fighting people for me. i can handle myself."

jeno nods, his grin softening into something more genuine. "i know you can. that’s one of the things i love about you. but still… i’ll always have your back, no matter what."

the rest of the night, jeno stays close, his protective streak on full display. whether it’s his hand resting on your lower back or his occasional glances around the room, it’s clear he’s not letting anyone else get the chance to bother you. but he also keeps the mood light, teasing you about your sharp comebacks and making you laugh with his playful antics.

and every time you catch him looking at you, his gaze is filled with pride and admiration, as though he’s constantly reminded of just how incredible you are.

haechan

haechan doesn’t need much time to notice the creep bothering you. his sharp ears pick up on the guy’s overly confident tone from across the room, and he immediately shifts his focus to you. without hesitation, he starts making his way over, his trademark smirk already in place and his sharp wit at the ready.

"you’ve got such an attitude, but i kind of like it," the guy says, his smirk radiating arrogance as he inches closer.

but before haechan can say anything, you’re already taking control of the situation. you cross your arms, your expression unamused, your words cutting like a knife. "an attitude? oh, you mean standards? yeah, i have those. clearly, you don’t meet them."

the guy’s smirk falters, his overconfidence wavering for a split second. he tries to recover, forcing a nervous laugh as he leans back slightly. "come on, i’m just joking around. don’t take it so seriously."

you tilt your head, your voice dripping with sarcasm as you respond. "oh, i’m sorry. was i supposed to laugh? next time, try saying something funny."

the guy’s face twists in frustration, clearly not expecting you to shut him down so effortlessly. by now, haechan is standing behind you, silently observing with an amused grin. he takes his time stepping into the conversation, waiting for just the right moment to make his presence known.

throwing an arm around your shoulders with practiced ease, haechan leans in slightly, his tone playful yet undeniably assertive. "my girlfriend is funny, isn’t she? honestly, you should’ve just taken notes and walked away before embarrassing yourself."

the guy glares at haechan, muttering something under his breath before finally turning on his heel and disappearing into the crowd, thoroughly defeated.

haechan watches him leave, his grin widening as he turns back to you. his eyes sparkle with amusement, his pride in you clear. "that was hilarious," he says, rubbing your shoulders lightly. "you didn’t even give him a chance to breathe."

you shrug, a small smile tugging at your lips. "he deserved it. the second he opened his mouth, i knew he wasn’t worth wasting any energy on."

haechan lets out a loud laugh, his hands slipping down to your sides as he rubs them in soothing circles. "next time, though," he teases, his tone shifting to something a little more serious, "let me handle it, okay? i don’t even want you to look at another man, much less waste your energy shutting him down."

you raise an eyebrow, giving him a playful nudge. "you think i need you to fight my battles for me?"

he shakes his head, leaning closer until your noses almost touch. his voice drops, his tone softer now. "nah, i know you’ve got it handled. but it’s my job to protect you, even if it’s just from some loser who doesn’t know how to mind his business."

you grin, wrapping your arms around his neck. "fine. next time, i’ll let you take the lead. but don’t expect me to hold back if he says something stupid."

haechan chuckles, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. "deal. you can handle the insults; i’ll handle making sure they never come back."

for the rest of the night, haechan sticks close to you, his arm either wrapped around your waist or slung over your shoulders. every now and then, he throws in a joke about the creep, making you laugh and keeping the mood light. but underneath it all, his protective streak is evident in the way his eyes occasionally scan the room, ensuring that no one else dares to approach you.

as the two of you head back to your group, haechan leans in close, his voice low in your ear. "god you look so good tonight"

you roll your eyes but can’t help the smile that spreads across your face.

haechans arm tightens around you as he pulls you closer. "i dont need anyone else trying to chat you up tonight. stay with me."

jaemin

jaemin isn’t one to lose his temper easily. he’s the type to approach situations with a calm and calculated demeanor, but when it comes to you, there are no limits to what he’ll do to protect you. that’s why, when he notices a guy getting too close to you and hears the arrogance in his tone, a dark cloud settles over his usually sunny expression.

"come on, sweeheart," the creep says, leaning into your space with an infuriating smirk. "you’ve been giving me looks all night. don’t pretend you’re not interested."

you step back, your arms crossing as you glare at him. "looks? the only look i’ve been giving you is the one that says, ‘leave me alone.’ do you not know how to read a room?"

the guy chuckles, brushing off your words as if they’re meaningless. "don’t be like that. you don’t have to play hard to get. i’m just trying to have a good time."

jaemin, who has been quietly observing from a few feet away, clenches his fists at the audacity of the creep. he strides over, his face cold and unyielding. by the time he reaches you, the guy still hasn’t gotten the hint.

"dude" jaemin says, his voice calm but carrying an unmistakable edge. "she told you to back off. you should listen."

the guy turns to jaemin, sizing him up with an amused smirk. "and who are you? her babysitter?"

you open your mouth to reply, but jaemin holds up a hand, silencing you gently as his focus sharpens on the guy. "i’m the person who’s about to break your fucking jaw if you don’t walk away right now."

instead of taking the warning, the creep decides to push his luck. "oh, relax. i wasn’t doing anything wrong. can’t blame a guy for trying. i mean look at her, shes asking for it."

that’s the last straw. in a flash, jaemin’s fist connects with the guy’s jaw, the force enough to send him stumbling backward into the nearby bar counter. gasps erupt from the crowd around you, and the guy groans, clutching his face as he glares at jaemin.

"are you insane?!" the guy sputters, his confidence now replaced with fear and anger.

jaemin steps closer, his expression icy as he towers over the guy. "if i see you near her again, it won’t just be your jaw hurting. now get lost."

the guy doesn’t wait for further instructions. he scrambles to his feet and disappears into the crowd, clearly eager to get away from jaemin.

turning back to you, jaemin’s expression softens immediately. he takes a step closer, reaching out to gently cup your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek. "you okay, princess?" he asks, his voice warm and full of concern.

you nod, a small smile tugging at your lips despite the chaos. "yeah, i’m fine. you didn’t have to do that, you know."

jaemin sighs, pulling you into his arms and resting his chin on top of your head. "i know you can handle yourself, but i’m not going to stand by and let someone disrespect you. you’re too important to me."

you wrap your arms around his waist, leaning into his comforting embrace. "well, remind me to never get on your bad side. that punch was impressive."

jaemin chuckles, his breath warm against your hair. "only for you, baby. but next time, let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. i’d rather keep my hands on you than waste them on creeps like him."

for the rest of the night, jaemin stays glued to your side, his protective instincts on high alert. every now and then, he glances around the room, his sharp eyes ensuring that no one else dares to bother you. but when he looks at you, his gaze softens, filled with the kind of love and devotion that makes you feel completely safe and cherished.

chenle

chenle isn’t the jealous type—or at least, that’s what he likes to tell himself. but when he sees some guy leaning in way too close to you, his smirk too smug and his intentions clear, something in him shifts. from across the room, he watches, his jaw tightening as the guy’s overconfident voice carries just enough for chenle to catch snippets.

"you’re way too beautiful to be standing here alone. how about i keep you company?"

you’re already rolling your eyes, visibly annoyed but keeping your cool. "i’m not alone, actually. my boyfriend’s here."

the guy doesn’t back off. instead, he lets out a mocking laugh, shrugging off your words. "boyfriend? i don’t see him. come on, you don’t have to make excuses. let me take care of you tonight."

chenle sets his drink down with a controlled precision, his eyes narrowing. he doesn’t do big scenes, but the guy’s blatant disrespect ignites something protective and possessive in him. without wasting another second, he strides across the room, his focus solely on you.

when he reaches you, he doesn’t acknowledge the guy. not a glance, not a word—nothing. his full attention is on you as he steps into your space, his fingers wrapping gently around your wrist.

"chenle—" you start, confused, but before you can get another word out, he tilts your chin up and kisses you.

and not just a quick kiss. this is something else entirely. his hand cups the side of your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek as his lips claim yours with undeniable intensity. it’s a kiss that demands attention—a declaration to the entire room, but especially to the creep standing awkwardly to the side. his other hand slides to your waist, holding you firmly against him, and you feel the tension in his grip, the silent message in his touch.

the kiss leaves you breathless, your hands instinctively clutching at his shirt as you try to ground yourself. chenle’s lips move with deliberate, unhurried precision, and even though the guy is still hovering nearby, all you can focus on is him—his warmth, his confidence, his unyielding presence.

the creep clears his throat awkwardly, his bravado crumbling under the weight of chenle’s unspoken challenge. "uh… okay, i get it. geez." he mutters something under his breath and shuffles off, but chenle doesn’t stop.

only when he’s sure the guy is completely out of sight does chenle finally pull back, his eyes dark and smoldering as they meet yours. his thumb brushes over your bottom lip, a faint smirk tugging at his own. "that should make it clear to everyone."

you blink at him, still catching your breath, your cheeks flushed. "were you—were you jealous?" you manage, though your voice is still a little shaky from the kiss.

chenle raises an eyebrow, his smirk widening as he pretends to scoff. "me? jealous? please." he leans in closer, his lips ghosting over yours. "i just wanted to make sure that guy—and everyone else—knows who you belong to. that’s all."

you let out a laugh, shaking your head at his audacity. "you’re unbelievable, you know that?"

"i know," he replies smoothly, stealing another quick kiss. "and you love me for it."

you roll your eyes, but the warmth in your smile betrays you. "maybe i do."

for the rest of the night, chenle stays glued to your side, his arm either slung casually over your shoulders or his hand holding yours. he’s not one to hover, but tonight, his protective side is in full force. every now and then, he leans in to kiss you again—not because he’s jealous anymore, but because he simply can’t resist.

and every time he does, it’s like the rest of the world disappears, leaving just the two of you in your own little bubble.

jisung

jisung isn’t the type to make a scene. he’s quiet and reserved most of the time, but when it comes to you, he’s fiercely protective. that’s why, when he notices the guy at the bar getting way too close to you, his hands gesturing as if he has any right to invade your space, jisung feels his blood start to boil.

the guy leans in, smirking like he owns the world. "you’re way too pretty to be sitting here alone. why don’t i keep you company?"

you shift back slightly, your irritation clear. "i’m not alone. my boyfriend’s here."

the creep doesn’t back off, laughing as if you’ve just told a joke. "oh, yeah? i don’t see him. sounds like you’re just saying that to get rid of me."

jisung watches from the other side of the room, his jaw tightening as he sets his drink down. he’s not one for confrontation, but seeing the guy blatantly disrespect you pushes him over the edge. he strides over, his tall frame imposing as he steps in between you and the creep.

"she’s not alone," jisung says, his voice low and firm, carrying an intensity that even surprises you. "i’m her boyfriend, and i think you need to walk away before this gets worse for you."

the guy looks jisung up and down, clearly assessing whether it’s worth pushing further. after a tense moment, he throws up his hands in mock surrender. "alright, alright. chill, man. i was just talking."

the guy slinks off into the crowd, and jisung exhales sharply, turning to you. his dark eyes meet yours, and there’s a fire in them that you don’t see often. "let’s go," he says, his voice leaving no room for argument.

you blink, slightly startled by his tone but also intrigued by the edge in his demeanor. "go? but—"

"now, y/n," he interrupts, grabbing your hand and leading you out of the bar without waiting for further protest.

the car ride is silent at first, tension crackling in the air. jisung’s knuckles are tight around the steering wheel, his jaw clenched as he focuses on the road. you steal a glance at him, the way his sharp profile looks under the glow of the streetlights, and it sends a thrill through you.

"you’re mad," you say softly, breaking the silence.

he scoffs, his eyes flicking to you briefly before returning to the road. "of course i’m mad. that guy wouldn’t leave you alone. he didn’t respect you—or us. i should’ve—" he cuts himself off, shaking his head as if trying to calm down.

you reach out, placing a hand on his thigh, your touch grounding him. "you don’t have to explain. i get it. and honestly? seeing you like this is… kind of hot."

his eyes widen for a second, the tension in his shoulders shifting into something else entirely. he pulls into an empty parking lot, shutting off the car and turning to face you. his gaze is dark now, the fire from earlier still burning but in a completely different way.

"you think this is hot?" he asks, his voice low, almost a growl.

you bite your lip, leaning closer. "i think you being so protective is incredibly hot."

that’s all it takes for him to snap. he surges forward, his lips crashing into yours with a hunger that leaves you breathless. his hand tangles in your hair as he pulls you closer, the other gripping your waist as if he can’t bear to let you go.

the confined space of the car only adds to the intensity, your bodies pressed together as the windows begin to fog. his kisses trail down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin just enough to make you gasp.

"you’re mine," he murmurs against your skin, his voice rough and full of conviction. "no one else gets to look at you like that, talk to you like that."

"i’m yours," you whisper back, your fingers threading through his hair as you pull him even closer. "only yours."

the night might have started with frustration, but it’s clear that jisung is determined to make you forget every second of it, right there in the car with nothing but the two of you and the heated passion that takes over.

masterlist

hey guys!! sorry for not updating in a while.. i was out of the country!

also im making a permanent tag list so lmk if u wanna be on it!

[imsofreakingtired]

it's so funny being a sevika stan as an ace lesbian because like

yes i am sex-repulsed

but yes i also need sevika to absolutely fuckin decimate me .

my attraction to her is just like. yes it is IMPOSSIBLE to deny her physical attractiveness. like she is the hottest fucking character to ever grace the cinematic screen. but it's also just her. completely aesthetically speaking. her bone structure. the shape of her lips. her skin. her scars. her muscles. her voice. her walk. shes built like a god and it feels sacrilegious to look at her. but BUT also just

the potential of her as a character is so insane?? her unspoken words and motivations?? her inner conflict and silent angst?? the way she is so in control of her emotions it makes you wonder if she even feels them at all. yet she does. she wears her heart on her sleeve but she was never able to give into her feelings, she never had that luxury. and it's the way her vices and exhaustion only show in brief moments, it's the way she's basically the punching bag of the show but always picks herself up for the next fight with the most confident fuckass smirk on her face.

she's also just so tortured byronic hero coded and i feel like she knows things and has seen things and her memories run too deep for her to touch with bare fingers and she lets her pain collect like rainwater in the pit of her soul because there is always something expected from her, never offered to her and i guess that's just the core of my hyperfixation rn

[cherry-coffees]

pitfighter!Sevika x f!reader 

(for my friend who's obsessed with both Sevika and Rhea Ripley – love you!)

cw: 1.6K words | mdni! smutty talk, implied sex, mentions of violence (nothing crazy, just vague pitfighting stuff), Sevika but Rhea Ripley inspired basically

----------------

The wrestling stadium booms with excitement. Pitfighting has been becoming more and more popular: one of Zaun’s ever-growing favorite pastimes. And, along with it, one woman quickly rose to fame. Sevika. She had the whole city captivated by her fighting skills, even with her one metal arm. Tickets to her matches always sold out quickly – too quickly for you to have ever seen one. 

So when you and your friend are walking through Zaun, having a little day to yourselves in the midst of jobs and usual everyday tasks, you take your chance. As you pass by the pitfighting arena, a few people stand outside, trying to make quick money off of re-selling tickets to Sevika’s upcoming match. You glance at your friend, then shrug because why not? You're interested to see what all the hype is about, having just caught glimpses of Sevika on posters and ads for the pitfighting arena. 

But when the match starts and Sevika steps out, you get the hype.

The way she takes down her opponents is easy, careless even. Her opponent, way too confident in herself, charges at Sevika, who easily sidesteps her. She wraps one hand around her opponent's throat and lifts her slightly just to slam her down onto the ground. Sevika holds her there, ignoring her opponent's desperate thrashing to get up like it's nothing. And holy shit, is she smirking at the bigscreen? Paired with the tightest black bodysuit you've ever seen and a thick layer of black makeup around her eyes, it looks way too alluring. 

You’re entranced, watching every move Sevika makes, every punch she lands, every breath she takes. You barely register when your friend nudges you, indicating they’re going to the bathroom. You nod absently, eyes still trained on the match.

Sevika wins, of course, and you find yourself cheering loudly along with the entire stadium. But when she steps out of the ring, the lights go up, and people start filing out of the stands. You blink, your senses coming back to you. Realizing you're now alone in the arena, you frown. Shit. Where was the bathroom again?

After leaving the stands and a few minutes of wandering around the arena, you find a narrow hall with a door marked with a bathroom sign on it. Perfect. 

You swing open the bathroom door, eyes flitting over the stalls. Huh. Your friend definitely isn't in here, but neither is anyone else. You step further into the bathroom, seeing all the stalls open, and your face contorts in a look of confusion. The arena had been so crowded for Sevika's match, so why is this bathroom empty? Is it out of order? 

Your thoughts are interrupted when the door swings open and relief shoots through you. Ah, so you're not the only spectator looking for a bathroom. But as you turn, you find yourself face to face with Sevika. 

Your jaw drops.

Sevika's eyebrows raise, tilting her head slightly as she runs a sweat towel over her muscular arms. "You a fighter?" 

"Uh-" you're too stunned by this meeting to answer coherently. Sevika stands at about six feet tall, clearly intimidating paired with her bulging muscles and deep voice. But as she eyes you with slight curiosity, all you can think about is how absolutely fucking hot she is. 

"I'll take that as a no," Sevika snorts. "Not that you look like one. You know this bathroom is for fighters, yeah?"

Oh.

"I- did not," your words come out almost sheepish as you fidget slightly, shifting your weight from one leg to the other. You try to focus on her words and not the way her biceps flex. "Sorry, I didn't mean to intrude."

"You're fine, doll," Sevika brushes past you to look in the bathroom mirror as she finishes wiping herself down. You try not to look too much, you really do.

"I- should go," the words come out before you can stop them and you internally cringe. You don't want to leave, of course, but you feel extremely out of place in this bathroom – especially now that Sevika's here.

But Sevika just smirks and you can hear the smugness dripping in her tone. "Why? Seems like you like what you see."

You ignore the automatic flush in your cheeks. "I- it's not like that." It's a lie, of course, but you can't help but feel slightly defensive as you turn to face her in the center of the bathroom. The air suddenly feels so much thinner now, so much harder to breathe. "I just, uh, really admired your fight."

Sevika laughs, reaching and slipping out a cigarette from god knows where, lighting it with her metal arm and taking a drag. "Oh yeah? Well, what a compliment. What part did you like, doll?"

"Um, well, I was impressed when you swept that girl's leg so easily." The answer comes naturally because, after all, you had been impressed.

"Uh-huh." When you pause, she makes a gesture, turning from the mirror to face you. Her dark eyes, complete with the usual pitfighter makeup look, meet yours. You swear her gaze burns. "I can't imagine you'd like violence a lot, looking so put together." You swear her eyes trace the neckline of your top that dips just low enough and hugs your body in all the right places. What else did you like?"

You hesitate. "Just your strength in general, I guess. You- watching you destroy all those people so easily was crazy." You can't help but briefly glance again at her arms that subtly flex her hard-earned muscle. You will your mind away from its filthy thoughts.

Sevika raises her eyebrows, taking another drag from her cigarette and her eyes dropping down your body and back up again. Once. Then twice. “Hm. Wish you’d let me destroy you like that, pretty girl.”

“Wha-?" Your eyes widen. “You-“

Sevika just smirks and exhales two streams of smoke from her nose. “Bet you’d look prettier pinned under me than any of the people I fight.”

Your eyes blink rapidly, cheeks turning darker with every word. "You think I'm pretty?" You could cringe again at the question and the way your voice sounds like a squeak, but your brain is refusing to comprehend that the Sevika is flirting with you in an pitfighting arena bathroom you're not supposed to be in.

Sevika tosses the cigarette in the bathroom trash can, not even bothering to check her aim. She takes two long strides forward until she's right in front of you. She's quiet for a few moments before she lets out a hum, lips curling into an almost sinful half-smirk. "Didn't you hear what I just said?" Her large hand moves to tilt your chin up. "Or do I have to repeat myself?"

"Sevika?" her name falls out of your lips in a hushed tone, more breathy than you had meant it. Her eyes are locked with yours now, as if they're burning into your soul. But this all feels like a dream, and you're worried that at any second the lamp will start to look weird and you'll open your eyes alone in your room-

"Yeah, doll," Sevika holds your gaze, her other hand coming to rest surprisingly lightly at your waist. "What do you want, hm? You definitely don’t belong in this place. You're lucky I'm the one who found you." She lifts one shoulder in a half shrug. "Or maybe I'm the lucky one."

Your own eyes are impossibly wide - a mix of shock and arousal. "I wanted to watch your match," you say, as if it was a simple answer to all she was wondering.

Her hand on your waist tightens at that, gripping your hip. "You know, pretty girl," Sevika's dark gaze stays locked with yours. "I'm still a woman after the match. I have wants, needs, even."

"Oh" this takes you by surprise and you blink. "Uh, could I help with something then?"

"Oh, yes, I think you could" Sevika's smirk widens into a devilish grin. Her lips brush against your ear and your heart pounds. Since when did the room get this hot?

"What can I do?" Your voice shakes, your breath slightly labored at her close proximity to you.

"Mm. You could start with letting me fuck you until you can't feel it anymore."

You jaw drops and you feel your mouth go dry. It may the third time in the past five minutes that Sevika has caused you to go into complete shock, but this moment has you believing that this has to be a dream. Your eyes drop to the floor, unable to bring your wide eyes to meet Sevika's fiery ones because she's so hot and tempting and- 

As quickly as you look away, Sevika's hand on your jaw tilts it back up so your eyes meet hers again. "Did I say you could look away?" she hums, sighing with mock-disappointment. "Oh doll, you have a lot to learn."

There's a pause. "But," she says, flashing you a smirk that you really want to kiss off her face, "I need a 'yes' from you before you can help with my needs."

You nod, breathing shakily, and her smirk widens as Sevika pushes you back against the bathroom wall. And yet, you can't help but notice the way her hand cups the back of your head so it doesn't hit the cold concrete. But the gentleness is overridden by her sultry tone. "Use your words," her breath fans your lips. 

"Yes."

"So good for me," she purrs before crashing her lips on to yours, as if they had always belonged there.

If the night ends in the bathroom with Sevika muffling your whimpers into her palm before heading back to her apartment, well, you certainly aren't complaining. And by the end of it all, she's absolutely followed through on her promise of destroying you, her name the only thing on your lips for the night – and all the next morning. 

But the ache between your thighs the next day is proof enough of that. 

[oscinhaslandito]

Hello hello, I would like to make a request.

George and Reader meet at a party and George finds out reader works at the traffic department and starts getting fines and more fines just to see the reader

heyy anon!! first of all thank you so much for the request i love wrting for y'all!! also i'mso sorry but i don't know a lot about traffic laws and stuff so it's gonna be super vague cause i literally got no idea how that works so yeah hope that's fine. also enjoy hope you like it🥰

Red Lights, Red Hearts

The light music echoed through the crowded room as conversations and laughter wove through it. Y/N stood near the drinks table, her fingers loosely gripping a glass, as her eyes flitted across the sea of unfamiliar faces. She wasn’t entirely sure why she’d agreed to come—networking wasn’t her forte, and most of the people here seemed engrossed in their own social circles. Still, the vibrant energy of the party was hard to ignore.

Across the room, George Russell, effortlessly charming in a tailored navy suit, scanned the lively crowd. His gaze landed on Y/N, who stood apart from the chaos, exuding a quiet confidence that immediately piqued his curiosity. After a brief pause, he weaved his way through the throng, his heart beating slightly faster than usual.

“Hi,” George greeted her with a warm smile, holding out his hand. “I’m George. Mind if I join you? You look like you could use a partner in surviving this madness.”

Y/N glanced at him, her lips curving into a small, amused smile. She shook his hand. “Y/N. And sure, as long as you’re not one of those people who’ll try to sell me a business opportunity.”

He chuckled, the sound genuine and light. “Promise. No sales pitches here. So, what brings you to this fine gathering of extroverts?”

“Honestly? A friend dragged me along. She claimed I needed to ‘get out more,’” Y/N replied, rolling her eyes slightly. “What about you? Networking or just here for the free drinks?”

“Bit of both, I suppose,” George said, leaning casually against the table. “Though I have to admit, meeting someone who’s not actively trying to hand me a business card is a refreshing change.”

Y/N took a sip of her drink, studying him. “And what exactly do you do that has everyone handing you their cards?”

George hesitated for a moment, then offered a modest shrug. “I drive for a living.”

Her brow furrowed. “Like, a chauffeur?”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Not quite. Formula 1, actually.”

Recognition flickered across her face. “Oh. That sounds really cool. So, you must have sponsors lining up left, right and center, huh?”

George nods, "Exactly. I hate formal business parties. What about you? What's your day job?"

“I work in traffic enforcement,” she said with a sly smirk.

George raised an eyebrow, caught off guard. “Traffic enforcement? As in… parking tickets and speeding fines?”

“Exactly. Riveting, isn’t it?”

He let out a hearty laugh. “I have to say, that’s not what I expected. So, you’re the one who ruins everyone’s day with a single piece of paper?”

“Pretty much,” she replied, amused by his reaction. “What can I say? It’s a thankless job, but someone’s got to do it.”

Their conversation flowed easily from there, George finding excuses to linger by her side. They traded stories and playful banter, and by the end of the night, he’d managed to get her number. As Y/N walked away, she couldn’t help but wonder if their paths would cross again.

A week later, Y/N was at her desk in the bright, bustling office of the traffic department. Her computer pinged with incoming files as she sorted through reports and tickets. The sound of the door opening drew her attention, and to her surprise, George walked in.

“George?” she said, raising an eyebrow. “What are you doing here?”

“Apparently, I parked in a no-parking zone,” he said, feigning innocence as he handed over the ticket. “Shocking, isn’t it?”

She arched a brow, glancing at the citation. “You didn’t notice the huge red sign?”

“I guess I was distracted,” he said, his grin giving him away. “But hey, since I’m here, maybe you could recommend a good coffee spot nearby?”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “You’re something else, George. But sure, there’s a café around the corner.”

Over the next few weeks, George became a regular at the traffic department. Each time, he had a new excuse—a speeding ticket here, an expired meter there. The staff began to notice, exchanging knowing glances whenever he walked in. Y/N, meanwhile, started to anticipate his visits, though she’d never admit it out loud.

One day, as she processed yet another fine for George, she finally decided to call him out. “George, do you enjoy breaking traffic rules? Is it the adrenaline of an F1 driver that leads you to overspeed? I don't understand, you literally drive for a living.” she asked, narrowing her eyes.

He rubbed the back of his neck, pretending to think. “Yeah, just adrenaline, I suppose. Somehow, always lands me here.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “At this rate, I should give you a loyalty card.”

Outside the office, George leaned against his car, taking a deep breath to calm his heart rate down. “She’s going to figure it out soon,” he thought to himself. “Worth it, though.” The man couldn't stop smiling on his way back home.

One day, George arrived at the counter without a ticket in hand. Instead, he held a bouquet of vibrant, freshly cut flowers. His usual playful demeanor was replaced with something softer, more earnest.

“George,” Y/N began, confused, “no fine today?”

“No fine,” he said, his tone more serious than usual. “But there’s something I need to confess.”

She tilted her head, intrigued.

“All those fines? They weren’t accidents,” he admitted, looking sheepish. “I just wanted an excuse to see you. I know it’s ridiculous, but you’re worth every penny.”

Y/N stared at him, speechless for a moment, before bursting into laughter. “George, you could’ve just asked me out instead of sabotaging your driving record! You literally could've had your driver's license revoked.”

He sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck with a nervous smile, “I know, but I just wanted to see you.” He sighs, “And well, I’m asking now,” he said, holding out the flowers. “Will you let me take you out? I promise it’ll be a ticket-free experience.”, he adds jokingly.

She smiled, taking the bouquet. “You’re lucky you’re cute. Alright, George. One date. We'll see how it goes from there. But, please for the love of God and for your sake, no more breaking traffic laws just to see me.”

George chuckles, raising his hands in mock surrender, “Promise.”

The two of them lingered by the counter, talking long after George’s confession. Outside, the afternoon sun bathed the street in golden light, and for the first time, Y/N felt like her otherwise routine job had brought her something extraordinary.

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Portal Children AU, Pt 4

Kara walks for days, calling Lena's name. She knows nothing of the map for this world; there was never any need, since no one thought you could travel through a door that isn't yours.

In the end, Lena finds her first. Or rather, a hunting party from Lena's camp does, and takes Kara prisoner before dragging her back to the camp, bound and blindfolded. Kara goes willingly, even eagerly, and when the blindfold is stripped away she scans immediately for Lena, and finds her friend beneath a tent, bent over a map with a number of other... people? Creatures? Some were decidedly not human.

Individuals, then.

"Lena!"

Lena's head shoots up at the call, whipping so fast towards Kara that Kara wonders if she didn't strain something in the process. She sees Lena squint, before her eyes go wide as their gazes meet.

"Kara?!"

In an instant, Lena is bolting from the tent in a beeline towards Kara. She slams into Kara in a fierce embrace. Kara staggers a little, receiving the hug as best she can with her hands bound and now trapped between their bodies.

A laugh bubbles up Kara's throat, only to evaporate when she feels the desperation in Lena's grip, the tremble of her breath and the feel of Lena's chin tucking against her shoulder.

"I'm sorry," Lena murmurs. "I-- I didn't think to say good bye until I was through, and then..."

Kara swallows thickly, something dark and anxious twisting in her belly.

"How long?"

"Two years," comes the strangled reply. Lena hiccups softly. "Two years...."

Kara sags against her, apology and relief in one. Not so long to miss much, but clearly long enough for Lena to miss her.

"Can I hug you?"

Lena pulls back. "Hm?"

Kara wiggles her bound hands in a wave, earning a watery laugh from Lena as she swiftly splits the ropes with the dirk at her hip. In the next breath they're back in each other's arms, this time with Kara squeezing Lena just as fiercely.

"It's only been days for me," Kara says. "Well, seconds, between you entering and me following, then days of me wandering blindly through the forest."

"It's dangerous for you to be here," Lena points out, wiping her eyes.

Kara cocks a grin. "Nah," she dismisses. "It'll be fine, so long as there's an adventure in it for me."

---

It's not long before Kara is again fulfilling her role as Lena's lieutenant, this time literally. While she doesn't have the martial experience Lena has, at least not for terrestrial battles, Kara still has a quick mind and an eye for strategy. Soon everyone knows that Lena has a new confidant, and a new right hand.

Some resent Kara for it, but it's hard to resist the magnetic draw of a bright smile and an enthusiasm for even the most unpleasant of duties. Kara shies away from nothing, not even latrine duties. They respect her for it, and that respect only grows as Kara proves herself in battle as well.

Though she and Lena have been sparring with knives, swords, and staves ever since high school, Kara's true affinity comes in the form of a shield and war hammer. The shield itself they loot from an enemy war party, bright steel rather than the leather and wood used by the others in the camp.

Its mated sword feels equally at home in Kara's hand, but it proves too large and unwieldy for the stealthy hit-and-run, close quartered combat Lena prefers. So Kara keeps the sword strapped to her back, and relies on a hefty but agile hammer, with a pronged claw on one side, allowing her to puncture, hook, and yank as devastatingly as she can shatter a man's skull.

Together, they make a forbiddable pair. As weeks turn into months, and then more than a year, Lena regains the momentum the movement lost in her absence. Before long, they work their way straight up to the city gates, sparking a revolt as sympathizers to their cause rise up against Lex's guards and soldiers, generating a whirlwind of chaos that covers Lena's and Kara's entrance into the castle.

They find Lex once more in his keep, surrounded by yet more guards. To anyone else, it might have been a losing battle, but not for Lena and Kara. Together, they tear through the superior numbers, until only Lex is left standing. And he, in his hubris, expects another face off, an attempt to instill reason, a plea for him to change.

He does not expect Lena to charge towards him, barely has time to lift his sword before Lena smoothly ducks and pivots under his guard, slipping her dagger between the plates of his armor in three sharp jabs. The attack steals the wind from his chest. Lex staggers backwards into the wall, touching his glove disbelieving to the blood spilling from his side and armpit.

"What now?" he wheezes. "You found yourself another door-- no doubt it's my turn to be thrust back into that despicable world--"

His words halt with a gurgling crunch, as Lena's blade plunges deep into his throat. Kara watches Lena as the life leaves her brother, her shoulders square and her features stormy but firm-- resolute. She's long known this would be the outcome of their war: one or both of them dead for good.

Kara wonders if Lena feels any kind of sadness or regret for her brother, but the wonder turns to doubt in the next moment. Lena's resolve has been steadfast, born of need and logic, not vengeance or anger. Lex earned his fate and then some.

After the final battle, Lena and Kara work to rebuild the realm. Lena repeals the oppressive laws that Lex implemented, reconnects with former allies in neighboring realms, and does her best to restore hope and goodwill amongst the people. It takes time, and somehow more effort than fighting an entire war, but they do it. Eventually, Lena and Kara stand at the apex of a thriving kingdom of peace and unity, and only then does Lena reveal that this time she's brought something with her when she came through the door.

Kara stares at the small disk in Lena's hand, the firelight shimmering across its surface. "Lena, is that...?"

"The portal generator," Lena confirms. "I've been working to modify it, so that it would work here. And I've tweaked it, so that it should calibrate to the person operating it."

"You mean..."

"It could open your door, Kara."

Kara stares at it, hope blooming in her chest. She's been happy here, even in the most dire of battles. But her *door*, her world, her home....

She frowns. "What about you?"

"What about me?"

The question tries to play innocent, but Kara can hear the gravel in Lena's voice. As painful as it is to hear, it relieves something in Kara's soul, a need she hasn't acknowledged in a very long time.

"I miss my world," Kara says quietly. "But you are my home now."

"Kara..."

"Come with me," Kara murmurs. She stares into Lena's eyes, drinking in the apprehension and affection she finds in them. "Please."

Lena's gaze turns thoughtful. "Before, I wouldn't have thought it possible. But... you've lived in my world for years."

"So maybe you can live in mine," Kara concludes. She offers a smile. "What do you say... you up for one more adventure?"

A dazzling smile answers her.

"With you? Always."

[bluestrawberry7]

definitive height ranking of the main ten bg3 characters

im right they told me themselves

10. last place is minthara lmao she's 5'3" (161cm) max. I love her being tiny and feral. still absolutely ripped, don't get me wrong, just... on a smaller scale. also drow are canonically the shortest elves (drizzt is 5'4"/162cm), and I know women are taller than men, so she'd still be a little under average, but its more middling in menzoberranzen. and she's still above goblins and stuff. but then she joins the party and is just towered over by all these men and surface elves and she is compensating

9. shadowheart is 5'6". she is the physical embodiment of y/n. I guess this is a little short for elves, because of the gender thing, but I just cannot see her being defined as "tall" or "short". like she's short, in comparison to the other companions, but that only emphasizes their enormity because she is so perfectly average.

8. I like wyll being 5'8"/173cm or so bc he just so thoroughly embodies short king energy. think of that marcello hernandez bit where he's like short kings put in the work, not because we wanted to, but because we had to. I'm sorry but wyll is just way too kind and good at dancing to have lived his whole life over 5'9". bro is tom holland. (his dad is comfortably over six feet. this is definitely not a source of contention)

7. astarion, I think, is canonically 5'9"/175cm, which is tall for male elves, but not by a ridiculous margin. i think it fits into him being like, default-ly desirable, where he sort of fits into a lot of different relationship molds without it looking weird, because its a whole part of his character than he's conventionally attractive. like the vampire stuff is the interesting part, but without that he looks averagely, disposably pretty, which is why so many people see right through him.

6. gale is exactly one inch taller than astarion. I like him being a kind of remus-lupin tall, where he like slouches a lot and doesn't super recognize it, which is amplified by the fact that he spent the majority of his adult life exclusively around tara and a literal goddess. he doesn't really grasp the social implications.

5. lae'zel ends up around gale-height (5'10"/178cm). I know some people swear by shortzel, but I like the idea of githyanki being gangling and alien. her in-game model doesn't look like it should be that tall, but her limbs are just a bit too long. I like her walking around camp in an uncanny valley way, where she looks so clearly 5'6" until she's standing right next to you.

4. I picture jaheira in her prime as taylor swift with elf ears. she's just under six foot, or ~181cm. its that whole thing about presidents/authority figures tending to be taller, because people like to literally look up to their leaders for some reason. she just has that confidence. she's not like outrageously tall, and she's totally comfortable with minsc etc being taller than her, but she's just. six feet tall.

3. karlach!! is 6'2"/188cm!!! (not including horns). I've seen people say she's a little more than that, but I don't think most people are grasping how tall 6'2" is, especially if you're like fully built. like, rhea ripley is 5'7". karlach is a UNIT. anything above 6'2" is reaching freak-of-nature status, where height is like. the only thing you see when you look at them.

2. speaking of freaks of nature, minsc is 6'4"/193cm, and he has been since he was like 13. he has lived his whole life being taller than 97% of people he meets. he had to be pulled aside in gym class and warned that he couldn't wrestle the other kids anymore because he might crush them. and he was heartbroken!! because he's like!! a great dane!!!! and he just wants to play!!

1. halsin is comically large. ≥6'5"/196cm. he is a statistical anomaly. i think he canonically assumes he's part orc, but I think it's funnier if he's literally just an elf. his parents are 5'6". he's never even worked out. doctors hate him.

the only race-related halsin theory i'll accept is that he's a bear who turned into a human and not the other way around

[rhyrhy]

Slut me out series finale ˚ · .˚ ༘🦋⋆｡˚

Football! Fuckboy! Abby Anderson x female reader!

Cw: toxic relationships, language, college/ modern setting Abby!, no talks on body or race specifics! Player! Abby.

MDNI- Mlist for previous chapters

Final chapter: Touchdown

The past two months had been anything but pleasant.

Before the semester, all you cared about was school, your family, and trying to enjoy life while simultaneously jumping over any hurdles college threw your way. But lately, all of that had taken a backseat to a constant whirlwind of confusing emotions. all stemming from one woman.

One woman who you knew was a bad idea to get involved with but did anyway. And then you kept doing it—again and again and again—until you drove yourself up a wall. Her lack of transparency and flip-flopping emotions hadn’t made the ride any less bumpy, either.

This wasn’t what you needed—not now, not before winter break, and definitely not ever.

Flashback. November 16th

Abby held you against her, her arm wrapped around you and her chin hooked over your shoulder as you came down, her lips pressing kisses against your neck and jaw. She chuckled, her voice tired and somewhat strained.

“You look pretty like that,” she whispered, her words filled with praise.

She laughed softly, gently turning you around to face her, your body still pressed flush against hers. Her hands ran over your skin, tracing the sweat soaked flesh, the pads of her fingers gliding across your sides in a soothing, almost reverent, manner

A part of her loved seeing you this way, laid out and vulnerable and spent in her bed, the evidence of your time together obvious on both your skin and the sheets beneath.

As you pulled her towards She shifted, stretching her body out on top of yours, not quite laying her full weight on you, but enough to remind you of her presence

“Can’t get enough of me, huh?,” she continued with a grin. Laughing when you rolled your eyes at her

——

January, 23rd 1:55 pm

You shook your head of those thoughts. The final minutes of the lecture and your focus was on the clock above the whiteboard. 1:55 PM. Five minutes until class ended. Five minutes until you’d be walking out of the door and heading to meet Abby.

Knowing better, You still hadn’t told anyone. Not Layla, not Charity. Layla would have definitely given you an earful about why meeting up with Abby was a ‘terrible idea’, and, honestly, she’d probably be right. But you couldn’t face this conversation with anyone’s voice in your head other than your own. you needed to think.

So you’d lied.

As the class dismissed , and you packed up slowly, trying to gather your thoughts. Was this conversation gonna be pointless like the other ones? what was she even gonna say? What did she even wanna talk about? at this point so much has happened that you even know where to start.

On your way out, you passed Layla, who gave you a curious look.

“Hey, still on for later?”

“Actually, I’ve got something I need to do,” you said, trying to sound casual. “Rain check?”

Layla tilted her head. “Oh okay, sure…You good?”

“Yeah, totally. Just… school …stuff,” you lied. Cringing at your answer. She didn’t push further, but the guilt of somewhat deceiving her sat heavy as you made your way to the coffee shop where Abby asked to meet. Your mind was screaming at you to turn around. This was pointless.

It wasn’t like you didn’t want closure—you did. But you weren’t sure what Abby could say that would fix anything. You weren’t even sure why you agreed to meet. Maybe some part of you wanted to see if this was different. Or maybe you just needed confirmation that it wasn’t.

—-

Abby was already there, sitting at an outdoor table. She spotted you approaching and sat up straighter, fidgeting with the hem of her hoodie sleeve. Her usual confidence seemed almost gone, replaced with something hesitant. Unsure of herself.

“Hey,” she said as you sat down across from her.

“Hey,” you replied flatly, setting your bag down.

Yup, This was awkward. At this rate, she’s been between your legs more than you’ve had actual conversation so of course this was plainly..just awkward, but a needed conversation. This now, just depend on if Abby was gonna open up or you were walking out that door. A few more moments of silence past before one of you spoke up. 

“…Thanks for coming,” she started. Her voice was quieter than usual, missing the confidence you’d always associated with her.

“Mhm” you nodded, crossing your arms and letting her lead the conversation.

She exhaled, running a hand over her face. “I—” She stopped, her brows furrowing as she tried to find the words. “I know I’ve messed this up. I’m sorr—“

you interrupted, already feeling your frustration bubbling up. “Unt unt, see, If this is just going to be another half-assed apology so you can feel better, then I’m out”

Your words hung in the air for a beat too long for the growing irritation you had. Minutes passed and finally, You moved to grab your bag, ready to leave when Abby’s voice stopped you.

“You are leaving?— Wait!” she said, coming out almost desperate. You froze, looking at her, and for a moment, she just sat there… again. struggling to find the words. Then, like a dam breaking, it all came pouring out in a babble.

“This is so stupid—..but…i ..I was cheated on, okay?” she blurted, her voice cracking slightly. “Freshman year. I was with someone, thought it was serious, thought I could trust her, and then I found out she was hooking up with someone I thought was my friend.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden vulnerability in her voice. Abby wasn’t looking at you anymore; her gaze was fixed on the table, her hands clenched tightly together.

“It wasn’t just the cheating,” she continued, her tone bitter. “It was how everyone knew but me... And after that shit i…It was easier to just… keep things casual. To not get, that close”

Her voice dropped, and she finally looked up at you. “But then you came along, and you… you made me care. And I didn’t know how to handle that.“

“You made me want more. And that scared the hell out of me.”

For a moment, the only sound between you was the chatter of other people in the coffee shop. You tried to process everything she’d just fired off. the mix of anger and hurt in her words, and the way her vulnerability clashed with everything else you’ve been shown thus far dealing with her .

“So you decided to treat me like everyone else,” you said, your voice harsher than you intended. “You ignored me, acted like I didn’t matter. And then when you finally apologized, it was just so you could feel better about yourself.”

Her admission hung in the air, and you felt a strange mix of sympathy and frustration. You wanted to believe her, but the hurt she’d caused still lingered

Abby winced, but she didn’t argue. “I know,” she said quietly. “And you’re right. I didn’t handle it the way I should have. I let my fear screw things up, and I hurt you in the process. I’m sorry for that—for all of it.”

You looked at her, searching for any sign that this was just another performance, another excuse. But all you saw was sincerity.

…And yet, you couldn’t ignore the hurt she’d caused, the way she’d made you question your worth.

“I don’t know if I can do this, Abby,” “I don’t know if I can trust you again…this..everything that happened? I just…need to think I guess. About all of it”

Abby nodded slowly, her shoulders slumping. “I get that…and ill…I’ll respect that.“

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The weight of everything unsaid hung between you, and you felt the ache of something that might have been.

There was a long pause, and you could feel your heart beating faster. Part of you wanted to tell her that it didn’t matter anymore. But another part—the part that had stayed up too many nights replaying every interaction, every hurtful moment of the past two months.

Jesus, Winter break couldn’t come any faster.

—-

Winter Break – March 18th

The winter months came and went in a blur of exams, holidays, and quiet reflection. You and Abby had mutually agreed to give each other space—no texts, no calls, and still no social media connection.

The distance was strange at first, but over time, it gave you clarity. You weren’t sure if things between you and Abby would ever go back to how they were, but you knew one thing: you weren’t the same person you’d been when this all started.

The photo from your date with Abby still sat on your corkboard, though you saw it more as an aesthetic decoration now rather than something to reminisce on. You didn’t even feel sad when you looked at it anymore.

It was the first day of spring when you found yourself at the ice cream shop where Abby had taken you on that cheesy, playful date months ago. You weren’t even sure why you’d gone, but as you stood in line, debating between flavors, a familiar voice pulled you from your thoughts.

“You’re still indecisive, huh?”

You turned, and there she was…Abby, standing a few feet behind you with that same goofy grin you remembered so well.

“And you’re still full of yourself, huh?”

Abby chuckled, stepping forward. “Maybe. But I’m working on it.”

The two of you stood there, the weight of the past few months hanging between you. But instead of feeling heavy, it felt… lighter. The double entendre of her words weren’t lost on you. She’s working on herself, hm.

“You still get the same flavor?” she asked, nodding toward the menu.

“Maybe,” you said with a small smile. “But I don’t know if I should share it with someone who eats like a five-year-old.” You teased

Abby laughed, shaking her head. “Fair enough.”

As you both ordered your ice cream and found separate tables, you couldn’t help but glance her way up from your phone occasionally, catching her looking back at you.

For the first time in months, you felt… okay. Not resolved, not perfect, but okay.

..Maybe you’d work things out someday. Maybe you’d just be two people with shared memories.

But for now, you were finally…finally, okay.

Bonus, Late Spring, Three Months Later

The air smelled like fresh blooms and soft rain as you sat on a park bench near campus, your favorite book in hand. The stress of winter and early spring had faded into something quieter, something manageable. Life was better now, simpler. No more girl drama. You’d spent the past few months focusing on yourself, on rebuilding your routine, regaining your lost peace.

The sound of laughter pulled your attention to the path ahead. A group of students walked by, one of them jogging backward to keep up with the conversation. They were carefree, loud, and unbothered, and for a moment, you envied that lightness.

“Long time, no see.”

The voice sent a jolt through you. Looking up, there she was. Abby.

Her hair was shorter now, the loose braid she’d often worn replaced with a simple ponytail. She looked the same, yet different, her posture more relaxed. Like herself.

“Hey,” you said, scanning over her new look.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” she said, gesturing toward the park bench.

“Just needed some fresh air, i guess ” you replied casually, though your heart thudded in your chest.

She sat beside you, her knee almost brushing yours, and let out a breath. “I’m not going to lie, I thought about texting you. Like, a hundred times. But I figured you didn’t want to hear from me.”

You gave her a side glance, finding her admission, kind of funny.

Abby laughed softly, running a hand through her now much shorter hair

“Uh, ‘thanks’? For what?”

“For… I don’t know. For dealing with me, I guess. For being patient when I didn’t deserve it. For calling me out when I needed it. I’m… I’m still figuring my shit out, but I’m trying… but..so… I just wanted you to know that.”

the honesty in her voice catching you off guard. It wasn’t the Abby who’d always deflected or hid behind her player persona. This was the Abby who taken you on that day in November, who held your hand and laughed with you about nothing and everything.

“Thanks for saying that,” you said, a small smile tugging at your lips. The double entendre about her working on herself, not lost on you. 

She grinned back, leaning into the bench. “So… friends?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Mmn, We’ll see.”

“Right, right. I won’t get ahead of myself” she said, a grin returning to her face. leaving a comfortable silence to fall over you both.

the future was unwritten, and for now? …

This was enough.

Small note: Hey guys, just wanted to say thank you for the support. This was just supposed to be a oneshot but uhh guess we turned into a 7 part mini series! I didn’t want to give it an unrealistic sunshine and rainbows ending. So, I felt like the reader choosing herself for the time being and leaving the door open for a more improved version of the relationship once the sand settled…was a good middle ground! I know this was a roller coaster 😭😭 I had sooo many ideas but thought this made the most sense! thanks for reading my shitty little series 😊 mwahhh

——

Taglist cuties!: @deadbolted @grey-jedi12 @ceylnisgone @evabby @abby-anderson-wifey @icedsimpsayo @elle-girlylesbian

[in1-nutshell]

Hi! Can we get more Nova and Bumblebee please?

Maybe Bumblebee starts too realize slowly about Nova and his own feeling.

The pinning has finally finished!

Hope you enjoy!

Bumblebee and Nova confess?

SFW, Platonic, Romance, Cybertronian reader

G1

Raoul was sick and tired of hearing about the drama Tracks had.

Now normally he would be all in for hearing about bot stories from the flying car, but lately it had turned into an endless rant about how it was going to probably take the ending of the war to get Bumblebee and Nova to confess.

He had had enough!

Raoul: “Tracks, I love ya man, but can you PLEASE talk about anything else besides those two!” Tracks: “Well, no one is asking you to stay.” Raoul: “I’m just tryina hear abou da new stuff on base and here ya are talking about Bee and Bova! I’m sick of it!” Tracks just huffs at this. Raoul: “I swear. Ya know what? I bet I can get those two bozos together faster than you can drive.” Tracks: “Yeah right. No offense Raoul but those two are as dense as your skull.” Raoul: “Some offense taken. Then let’s make things interesting. If I can get them together on an actual date by the end of the month, you have ta drive and fly me for a week.” Tracks: “Raoul if you get them to go on a date, I’ll drive and fly you anywhere for a month.” Raoul: “Deal!”

Raoul has most of the basics down on both bots… but apparently completely forgot that she was a dinobot.

Bit of a surprise, but you know what, he is still doing this.

Cranks up all his confidence and swagger in his body up by 100 the moment he steps out of Track’s alt mode.

He heads straight to the bot, who was happily chatting with Bumblebee.

Raoul: “Yo what’s up?” Nova looks down in surprise. Nova: “Hello? Who you?” Raoul: “The name’s Raoul, gorgeous. I’mma a friend of Tracks.” She was pretty for a bot, but not his type. Nova: “Tracks friend?” Raoul: “Yes siree. I’ve heard a ton about ya Nova, especially about ya being a dinobot, and being strong. I’d sure like ta see a cutie like you in action.” Nova smiles at him. Nova: “Nova can show friend Raoul! Come! Come!” Raoul and Nova happily talk as they make their way out of the Ark. Every bot who witnessed this: “…” Prowl: “What was that?” Jazz: “I think I need Ratchet to check my optics…” Blaster turns to Tracks: “I didn’t know Raoul was into bots.” Tracks: “He isn’t!” Bumblebee was standing in the same place trying to process what had just happened. Bumblebee: “That was… weird?” Grimlock is slowly blinking and trying to wrap around his processor how this new human took away his scout from the love of her life. Grimlock: “Me Grimlock can’t handle love triangle today…”

No one has any idea what just happened.

And this is not the end of it.

Nova was out with her new friend almost every day.

She always seemed to be by the humans side from patrol routes to hang out spots.

There was a clear trust gained within those couple of days.

Raoul went from walking by her side, to sitting on top of her helm in dino mode.

A sign of extreme trust.

New bets are made in the betting pool concerning whether Bee or Raoul would end up going out with Nova.

Grimlock is just watching all of this from afar and banging his helm.

Ratchet and Wheeljack are trying to stop him from making a hole in the Ark with his helm slamming.

Bumblebee has no idea what to think about this.

He was so used to having Nova close by, it felt wrong to have her so far.

Sure, they had been separated before on missions and when on different patrol routes, but this was different.

She was giving Raoul HIS smiles!

Wait—what did he just say?

Bumblebee wakes up at 3 in the morning as the Brick of Love had hit him square in the face. He liked Nova. He liked his best friend. Bumblebee: “Oh Sweet Primus���” He gets up and walks a bit around the Ark. Jazz was dragging Prowl to the berth when they both spot Bumblebee. Jazz: “Bee? You okay man? It’s kinda late for a stroll.” Prowl: “Did something happen?” Bumblebee: “I just had a realization, that’s all.” Prowl: “What is it?” Bumblebee looks a bit nervous. Bumblebee: “Promise you won’t laugh?” Both mech nod and wait. Bumblebee: “I think I like Nova... like more than a friend.” Prowl and Jazz: “…” Prowl vents and face palms. Prowl: “Thank Primus I thought it was serious.” Bumblebee: “What?” Jazz brings him to a side hug. Jazz: “Congrats Bee. You’re the last to know.” Bumblebee: “Wait? It was that obvious?” Prowl: “Bumblebee, everyone knows Nova has feelings for you.” Bumblebee: “…Even Grimlock?” Jazz: “Especially Grimlock.”

After some encouraging words from the two Bee walked back to his berth.

He did try to go back to sleep but couldn’t.

After the realization, he needed to talk to Nova.

It could have been his last chance if Raoul hadn’t taken that too.

In hindsight, he knew it was probably not a good idea to sneak into the dinobots quarters.

Most of them slept in their dino modes in a circle or giant pile.

Why a pile? He didn’t know and it didn’t look comfy either.

Thank Primus it was circle today.

As carefully and quietly as he could he sneaked to Nova’s side and gently tapped her helm.

Her optics slowly opened as she let out a yawn.

He told her in a hushed voice to follow him.

Not yet understanding everything, she let the yellow bot grab her servo and lead her away from the circle.

The pair was now outside the Ark as the first signs of the sun started showing in the sky. Nova yawns again finally noticing how Bumblebee hadn’t let go of her servo. Her frame started heating up. Nova: “Why Bumblebee bring Nova outside? It very early.” Bumblebee: “Well… You see I…umm… Nova I…” Nova looked at the yellow mech now concerned. Nova: “Something wrong?” Bumblebee: “No its just… You know what I’m just going to say it!” Nova: “Bumblebee?” Bumblebee: “I like you! I like you a lot!” Nova froze in place. She tilted her helm at him with near pleading optics. Nova: “Is that true? You like like Nova?” Bumblebee nods before looking down embarrassed, missing the new brightness in her optics. Bumblebee: “I think I have for a while but never acted until Raoul came.” Nova: “Friend Raoul? Why? He is friend.” Bumblebee: “Really? I thought maybe you two had something—” CLANK! The smaller mech was suddenly trapped in a tight hug by the taller dinobot. She curled her tail around his pedes as her chassis made a low purring noise. Nova: “Raoul is friend. Nova like like Bumblebee only.” Bumblebee let out a laugh of relief as he hugged her back. They broke from the hug and opted to sit next to each other and wait for the sun to rise. Meanwhile in the Ark… Grimlock wakes up first and notices Nova’s spot empty. Grimlock: “Nova? Nova! Swoop! Snarl! Sludge! Slag! Where Nova at!?”

While having several panicky dinobot’s wake up everyone wasn’t the best start for most of the bots on base, it was worth it when they saw Bee and Nova holding servos.

Both with the same lovesick look on each other’s faces.

It finally happened!

There was much rejoice that the two had finally confessed and announced they weren’t going to be available in the evening.

Grimlock is now torn between celebrating or giving Bee the shovel talk that he has seen on TV.

… Probably celebrate first, then talk.

And a happy Raoul got his rides for an entire month.

[poisonivy7]

caitvi meet in a brothel: a one-shot

imagine caitlyn and vi run into each other at a brothel to gather intel about a case except they had promised each other that the lead wasn't worth pursuing

Caitlyn was making her way through the halls of the brothel until she stopped in her tracks, hearing a familiar voice. She peered into the room to see Vi manspreading, leaning back on the couch comfortably. "Vi?! What are you doing here?" "Cait? What are you doing here?" "I asked you first!" "I just uhhh...come here sometimes," she lied, avoiding Caitlyn's piercing blue eyes on her. "Oh really? You'd rather lie about cheating on me than admitting that you're here following the questionable lead we promised not to pursue?" Caitlyn replied somewhat aggressively as she grabbed a fistful of Vi's hair, forcing her eyes up to Caitlyn. "Uh huh, and what about you, Matilda?" Vi teased. Caitlyn rolled her eyes, letting go of Vi's hair. "I got this, trust me," Vi said, smirking confidently. "It'll be easier if I talk to her," Caitlyn added, noting the confused look on Vi's face. "Rumor has it, I'm more of Astrid's type anyways." Vi grumbled, eventually giving in. "You're lucky you're everyone's type," she said, pulling Caitlyn in for a quick peck on the lips. "But you're not gonna get anything dressed like that," she said, looking Caitlyn up and down. "What do you mean?" Caitlyn asked, offended. She purposefully wore a tighter top with a skirt tonight. Without another word, Vi unbuttoned some more of Caitlyn's buttons and hiked her skirt up a little higher. "Violet!" Vi walked around Caitlyn, taking in every angle to make sure her outfit was good enough for Astrid. "You want answers, don't you?" Caitlyn sighed, rolling her eyes. "I cannot believe my girlfriend is pimping me out right now." Vi chuckled as she wrapped her arms around Caitlyn's waist from behind. "You're lucky I'm not the jealous type...because I know what's mine," Vi muttered, one of her hands slowly falling lower and lower down Caitlyn's body as the other hand tightened around her waist. Caitlyn leaned her head back on Vi's shoulder as her breathing got more and more ragged. Just as Caitlyn was about to turn around to kiss Vi, Vi pulled away teasingly. "Good luck, cupcake," she said, kissing Caitlyn on the cheek. "I'll be outside keeping guard," Vi added, smirking.

[echo-riot]

Abby with a Timid/Shy Girlfriend

• Abby notices how quiet and reserved you are around others, and she always makes sure to protect your space without drawing too much attention. When you’re in public, she keeps close, but her presence is comforting, always standing tall beside you, offering the shield of her confidence.

• She’s extremely gentle with you, knowing that you can get overwhelmed quickly. Abby tries her best to be the one to initiate conversation with others, letting you stay in the background if you’re not feeling up to it.

• At first, Abby gets frustrated because she can’t read your emotions as well as she wants to, but once she realizes how important it is to listen to you rather than push, she starts learning to pick up on the subtle signs you give.

• Abby loves the way you look at her when you’re both alone, your eyes soft and warm. It makes her feel both powerful and cherished at the same time, and she thrives on that closeness with you.

• She often finds herself wrapping her arm around your shoulders in public, pulling you close whenever you start to seem anxious or uncomfortable, grounding you with her presence.

• When you’re out with friends or in social situations, she keeps her touch light and easy, but there’s a constant reassurance in how she holds you.

• Abby loves when you ask her for reassurance, when you shyly look up at her with those big eyes and ask, “Is this okay?” She always answers with confidence and tenderness, even if she doesn’t fully understand your uncertainty.

• She admires your ability to remain calm even when she’s about to lose her temper; your quiet demeanor helps balance her out, making her stop and think before acting.

• Abby has a soft spot for when you fidget nervously with your hands. She’ll often take them in hers, lacing your fingers together to help you feel secure.

• There’s nothing that delights Abby more than making you smile—no matter how small the smile is. When you do, her heart swells with pride.

• Abby knows how important touch is to you, so she never pushes you into anything physical. She’s patient, always waiting for you to make the first move, even when she’s aching to pull you close.

• You’re both opposites in some ways—her brash, loud, and confident, you soft-spoken, shy, and gentle—but there’s an undeniable balance. Abby feels like she can conquer anything with you by her side, even if you don’t think you’re strong enough.

• She loves to spoil you with affection in private, whether it’s brushing your hair out of your face or just holding you in a warm embrace, giving you a safe place to relax and breathe.

• Abby is incredibly protective, not just physically but emotionally. She hates seeing you upset or uncomfortable and will always step in to defend you, even if it means confronting others.

• When you blush after she praises you, Abby feels like she’s won the lottery. She lives for your shy reactions, the way you duck your head in embarrassment, trying to hide your face but failing to hide the smile tugging at your lips.

• Abby will often surprise you with small, quiet gestures of affection, like bringing you your favorite treat, holding your hand under the table, or brushing her thumb over your knuckles while you’re sitting next to her.

• She makes sure that when things get too overwhelming, you have a way to escape into a calm, quiet space with her. Whether it’s a night in with takeout or a peaceful walk under the stars, Abby helps you find your peace again.

• Abby’s a sucker for the way you curl up beside her after a long day, wrapping yourself in the cocoon of her embrace and letting out a soft sigh of relief. It makes her feel like she’s truly home.

• She loves taking care of you, doing little things like making sure you have everything you need before bed or always having an extra blanket nearby because she knows you get cold easily.

• Abby respects your boundaries, never pushing you into doing anything you’re not comfortable with, and she appreciates when you communicate those boundaries to her, even if it’s hard for you to speak up.

• There are moments when you become so anxious that you don’t know how to cope, and Abby will sit with you, silently, just holding you close, letting your heartbeats align before she gently asks, “Do you want to talk about it?”

• When Abby’s too rough with her words or actions, you can tell she feels guilty. She immediately softens, showering you with soft apologies, and she’ll make sure to give you the space you need to feel better.

• Despite your quiet nature, Abby knows you have a strength that no one else can see. She knows that underneath the shyness, there’s a fierce spirit that she admires, and it makes her fall for you over and over again.

• You love the way Abby can make you feel like you’re the most important person in the world with just a single look, her deep gaze locking onto yours with such intensity that it nearly takes your breath away.

• When you’re both alone in the house, Abby feels free to let her guard down around you. She’ll make herself vulnerable, showing you sides of her that others rarely see, like when she curls up with you on the couch or hums softly while you both relax.

• Abby is amazed by how much patience and grace you have. You never rush her into anything, never expect her to open up until she’s ready, and it gives her the confidence to be more honest with herself and with you.

• Sometimes, when the world feels too much for you, Abby will hold you in her arms and tell you, “You’re safe with me. No one can hurt you here.”

• She loves teaching you new things, helping you find confidence in yourself that you didn’t know you had. Whether it’s trying new foods or showing you how to stand tall when you’re feeling small, Abby is there to encourage you every step of the way.

• Abby understands when you need to retreat into your shell for a while. She never pressures you to talk when you’re not ready, and she knows that sometimes, silence speaks volumes. She’ll be by your side, patiently waiting for when you’re ready to come out of your shell.

• You’ve become Abby’s anchor. When the world gets chaotic, she knows she can always come back to you, where there’s peace and love waiting for her.

• There are nights when Abby just watches you sleep, her heart swelling with love as she takes in how peaceful and serene you look in those quiet moments. She’ll lean over and press a soft kiss to your forehead, making sure you know that you’re the light in her life.

• The moments when you get shy and giggle over small things are Abby’s favorite. You’ll find yourself buried in her chest, trying to hide your smile as she teases you, but she loves every second of it—those are the moments she treasures most.

[auroralwriting]

my lover

charles xavier x fem!reader

you and charles have a peaceful, euphoric life together. tonight was no exception. (based on this request)

word count: 1.3k | warnings: tooth rotting fluff

The Xavier Mansion, now known as the Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters, was a lively, bright place you felt lucky to call your home. It was always bustling with children and teenagers roaming and exploring, creating connections and learning about their mutations. It was an unfathomable sight to witness, one you were glad you could live to see.

It wasn't long ago now that Charles had proposed to you. Maybe it was becoming wheelchair bound that finally pushed him, seeing your relentless support and undying affection for him, mobile or not. It was a sweet thing. Private, romantic, the way you'd always known Charles would propose.

Sure, some things were missing, like Raven, a nearly lifelong friend of yours, and one of Charles'. Another friend, he was missing, too. Of course, you both wished they could be here, but it wasn't like you were all alone. Alex and Hank were good friends. They seemed the most drawn to both of you. It was nice. It was home.

You walked the halls of your beloved school, one you were proud to teach at. You smiled at kids as they passed, all greeting you cheerfully. Truthfully, you were looking for Charles. Yes, you could reach out to him telepathically, but you always knew exactly where he would be almost like magic. At least, that's what Charles called it.

That was the great thing about you and Charles. He didn't need his mutation to read you, and you didn't need it to understand him. You had just clicked. It's what had drawn a teenage Charles to you in the first place. The way you spoke to him, matched his intellect, his interests, his passions, and then eventually discovering your shared desire for peace between mutants and humans, it all just confirmed to Charles you were the one. He's always known that.

"Charles?" Your voice carried softly into your shared room with the professor. He was sat in his wheelchair, looking out your window to the courtyard, watching groups of students interact around a bonfire. "Charles, my beloved,"

The Professor smiled at your voice, turning his head. "Darling, have I told you that you looked gorgeous today?"

"Several times, actually." You smiled, walking over to him and helping him move onto the bed to be more comfortable. He leaned against the headboard, staring at you with near hearts in his eyes. "You tell me several times every day."

"It should be a hundred," Charles chuckled. "Sit with me, my love. I want to relish your presence."

You sat comfortably next to him, leaning your head on his shoulder. "I have been busy lately, haven't I?"

"You're a teacher, it comes with the job," Charles chuckled. It was true. Being a normal teacher was hard, but a teacher for mutants was even harder at times. "How was your classes today? Still having trouble with young Jean?"

"She's getting better," you replied confidently. "More confident. I see it in her every day."

Charles nodded, "As do I. We're making good progress with her."

"You've been talking about school a lot lately," you pointed out. "Are you just very focused on it right now, or is there something else?"

You always could find any problems Charles had. Again, magic. "You caught me, my dear. I'm just.. worried, is all. The war, I've heard things. I heard it's getting worse. I just worry."

"Charles," you interlaced your fingers together as you squeezed his hand three times. "That's so far out of your control. Keep your mind here, with me. With the students. If things change, that is out of our control. We just have to soak all of this in now. There may be some time we don't have this."

"That's why I worry," Charles replied. "I worry for the kids, for what will become of this place."

A small, sympathetic smile graced your lips. "This place will always be a school, even if it has to be.. inactive for a little time. This will always be a safe place."

"You.. are right as always, love." Charles sighed. "I am here, I promise. I'll keep my mind from wandering as best as I can. And you're right. This is a school. Maybe preparing our children for this would help ease my worry."

You smiled, "That's a wonderful idea, Charles. I'm sure it would put their minds at ease, too."

Charles flipped your hand so the top was facing him. He bent your hand back slightly, observing the ring on your finger. "It truly does suit you,"

"Well, I technically did choose it. You probed my mind to find it," you laughed. Charles had spent a week trying to find your perfect, ideal ring. Finally, he found a good image and searched for even more weeks to find the perfect one. Of course, money was no issue. He didn't tell you how much the ring was worth, but damn.

"I just wanted it to be perfect, you deserve it all." Charles replied, bringing your hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. "I want to give you everything you've ever wanted in life."

"You already have," you replied, a shake to your head. "This is everything to me. Even if it was just us."

Charles raised a brow, "Are you insinuating that Hank's presence was unwelcomed?"

"Well," you bit your lip, "he intruded quite a lot. Remember that one time he walked in on us while you were between my--"

"You make a good point!" Charles cut you off, laughing softly after. "Come here, love. I think I've finally mastered the art of hair braiding."

You scooted in front of Charles, allowing his fingers to tangle in your hair. "You know," you began, "it's sort of like all of these kids are our own in some ways. I mean, we understand them better than their families ever could. They also happen to live under our roof."

Charles hummed, "Is that something you want?"

"Children?" You asked, causing Charles to nod in confirmation. "Yeah, I don't think I would mind one or two mini-us running around this place."

"It would drive Hank up the wall," Charles laughed. "I don't think he could stand one or two more of us."

Shrugging, you felt Charles' fingers pull ever so softly. "I think he'd just have to learn to live with it." You felt Charles reach the end of your hair as you passed him a hair tie. You sat up on your knees, looking in the mirror that hung on the all above your bed. "You french braided my hair!"

"I did," Charles proudly smirked.

Ever since he lost use of his legs, he began to take up new hobbies. He wasn't bad at crochet or poetry, but he liked finding ways to help you. Braiding your hair in the evening was one less thing to worry about in the morning. So was sewing holes from accidents in the danger room and good massages.

Don't think Charles did it all, however. Cooking was not up his alley, nor was cleaning anymore. Taking care of some yard work was also your own tasks, unless a certain student with special abilities offered to lend a hand. Life was balanced with you and Charles.

"It looks amazing," you praised as you observed how neat it looked. "I couldn't make it look this good myself if I tried."

"I had a good volunteer for practice." Charles smiled as you leaned down to press a kiss to his lips. "My love, it's getting quite late. We have early morning danger room drills if I'm not mistaken."

"Unfortunately, we do," you replied. "Time for some rest?"

Charles smiled. This was his favorite part of the night. "Indeed, darling. Come here, let me hold you tonight." He always said that every night, but the outcome was no different. You turned off the lights and curled up into his arms, allowing him to hold you, pressing soft kisses to the top of your head.

Life with Charles was like a dream. No matter how much either of your changed, you adapted. That's what soulmates do, is it not?

[tenleymcddonal]

Gorgeous

(George Weasley x American Reader)

(inspired by the Taylor Swift song)

I don't know when exactly I realized I was drunk, but it might have been around the same time I started to walk toward my crush, George Weasley. When I'm sober, I would've never done this, I'm incredibly awkward and not straight forward at all. I prefer to stare longingly from across the room when it comes to crushes of mine.

Something about the fire whiskey coursing through my veins gave me a newfound confidence. This too was super unlike me. I never drink. But having to stare at George for so long knowing I'm not with him and he most likely doesn't feel the same way really got me craving some. I was invited to this Gryffindor party by Ginny, who I'm relatively close with. Ginny knows about my crush on her brother, and she constantly tells me to confess and that I might be surprised with the outcome. But I was never able to decipher if I would be surprised in a good way or a bad way. I just assume it would be in a bad way because if George really did like me back, Ginny would tell me.

I snap out of my thoughts when I realized I had walked into a chair that's in the middle of the common room. I look up slowly hoping nobody saw but much to my dismay as I look around, I make eye contact with George, who is smirking at me. His brown eyes bore into mine and I want to disappear right then and there. Suddenly I see his mouth slowly open, and he begins to say something. I mentally prepare myself to be completely and utterly embarrassed by the next thing that comes out of his mouth. " Oi y/n I reckon there's a chair there." before I can even process what he said to me I begin to speak, what I thought at the time, to be a clever comeback. " Oi y/N I ReCkON therEs a cHaiR theRe InNIt." I smack my hand over my mouth, just as shocked with my response as George is. Suddenly he bursts into a fit of laughter and says, " I didn't even say innit you goof." he pauses to catch his breath and then speaks once more. " Your british accent is weak love, I think you might need me to give you some lessons." I stand there awkwardly and then speak up again "YoUr BRiiSh AcCenT Is WeAK LOv , I FiNk i MIgHt NeEdA GivE yA sOM LeSsOns." He only chuckles this time, but Fred begins to Laugh like a hyena beside him.

"MAN, SHE SOUNDS JUST LIKE YOU HA." George glances at Fred and back to me and then back to Fred, "Shove off, mate. You're british too." Regardless of him telling off Fred he still supports a small smirk. I decide to sit down in the chair I ran into.

I close my eyes for a second rethinking my previous decisions when I suddenly feel a small tap on my shoulder. I open my eyes and am met with George kneeled Infront of me. "Why do you never talk to me?"

Huh? He speaks to me only to ask why I never talk to him? What is this? "I just did." I respond. He only scoffs a bit, still smiling though. "No not like that, I mean like, actually talk to me. I know you're friends with Ginny, and I know you speak with Ron, and Fred. But you never talk to ME. And then you make fun of me when I speak to you. What is up with that?"

I don't know what to say. Do I confess? Do I make something up?

I ultimately decide to answer his question with my own question. " Does it bother you?" His eyes go wide, and his face flushes a light pink. " Uh-no... yes. I, I...... fancy you y/n and its fine if you don't feel the same. I would be fine with you just being my friend, but it hurts that you only talk to my siblings and never me, what did i do?" I don't know how to respond, and I don't know what to do. My face drops and my head goes blank. I only stare into his eyes. He begins to search my face for any sign of any kind of response. " I like you too George. So much. I don't speak to you because I'm extremely awkward and I knew I would embarrass myself... kind of like I did tonight." I smile at him and its almost like his pupils turn into hearts. The whole demeanor of his face changes. His eyes soften and the small smile on his face begins to grow wider. " You didn't embarrass yourself. I thought it was cute... and funny." He winks at me, and I feel my face get hot.

He reaches up and places his hand on top of my hand. As his hand is on mine I think of Ginny, why didn't she tell me? "George, did Ginny know you like me?" George stares at our hands and then looks up and responds “Yes, did Ginny know you liked me?"

My mouth drops "Yes!! Why didn't she tell me you like me?!?" George lets out a nervous giggle and then responds, " I kind of told her that if she told you about my feelings that I would prank her like there's no tomorrow." I chuckle and then kiss his cheek. He speaks up after I pull away "So... does that mean you would want to go on a date with me ??" I pause and stare at him for a second, both of us blushing and smiling big. "Mmmmmm no" I respond as I place a kiss on his lips.