#there was a walk with lights and decorations!!!

[southbynorth994]

I had no idea how my life was about to change when I asked that girl out on a simple date. Her name was Isabella. I had seen her around town, her dark hair cascading like a waterfall down her back, and her eyes—her eyes were a perfect shade of deep brown, mysterious yet warm, like a rich cup of coffee. She seemed different from the usual crowd, more reserved, but her smile could light up a room.

When she said yes to my invitation to dinner, I thought I was the luckiest guy in the world. We chose a quiet, cozy Italian restaurant on the edge of town, away from the hustle and bustle. It was the kind of place that felt like a hidden gem, with candlelight flickering on every table and a soft hum of Italian opera in the background. We talked for hours. She was charming, funny, and intelligent, and I was captivated by every word she said. She seemed so ordinary, in the best way possible, and I couldn’t stop myself from thinking that I might have just met someone truly special.

As the evening came to an end, I walked her to her car, a sleek black Audi. She thanked me for the night, her eyes sparkling, and I felt like the world was at my feet. I promised to call her again, to arrange another date soon, and she smiled, nodding in agreement.

But that’s when things took a strange turn.

The next morning, I was at work when I got a phone call from an unknown number. I almost didn’t pick up, but something told me to answer.

“Is this Brian Holden?” a low, gravelly voice asked.

“Yeah, who is this?”

“My name is Vito. Vito Romano. We need to talk.”

I froze. The name hit me like a punch to the gut. Romano. That was the name of one of the most dangerous mafia families in the city. I had heard whispers about them. Stories of violence, power, and influence. And Vito Romano? He was the patriarch—the boss.

“I… I don’t understand,” I stammered. “What do you want from me?”

“I think you know,” Vito said, his voice calm but chilling. “You took my daughter out last night.”

I felt my blood run cold. My stomach dropped. Isabella was his daughter? The girl I had taken on a date?

“I didn’t know,” I said quickly, trying to explain myself. “I swear, I didn’t know. I thought she was just a normal—”

“I don’t care what you thought,” Vito interrupted. “What matters now is how you handle this situation. My daughter was not just any girl, and you will treat her with respect, or there will be consequences. Do you understand?”

“Yes… yes, I understand,” I stammered.

There was a long silence on the other end of the line before Vito spoke again.

“I’ll be at your place in an hour. Be ready to speak to me.”

I hung up the phone, my heart racing. I couldn’t believe it. I had just accidentally asked the mafia boss’s daughter on a date. What had I gotten myself into?

An hour later, a black SUV pulled up outside my apartment. My doorbell rang, and I opened it to find two imposing men in dark suits standing on my doorstep. One of them was holding a leather briefcase, the other had a scowl on his face. Behind them, I saw Vito himself, a tall man with salt-and-pepper hair and a presence that made everything around him feel small.

“Brian Holden?” he asked, his voice calm but intimidating.

“Y-yes,” I replied.

“Come with me,” he said, and without waiting for an answer, he turned and started walking toward the car. The two men followed, and I had no choice but to follow as well.

We drove for what felt like forever, the tension in the car suffocating. When we arrived at a large, gated mansion, I felt like I had entered another world. Vito led me inside, his presence commanding every inch of the grand house. We sat down in a lavishly decorated room, and Vito motioned for me to take a seat.

“I don’t know what you were thinking, taking my daughter out without knowing who she is,” Vito said, his tone softening just slightly. “But I can see that you’re not the type of man who would intentionally disrespect the Romano family.”

I swallowed hard, still in disbelief.

“I… I had no idea. I swear. I didn’t mean any harm.”

Vito studied me for a long moment before nodding. “I believe you. Isabella speaks highly of you. And in this family, that counts for something.”

I felt a weight lift from my shoulders.

“So, what happens now?” I asked cautiously.

Vito smiled—a rare, approving smile. “You’ll be a part of the family, Brian. You have my blessing. But remember this: we look out for our own, and you’ll do the same. Understood?”

I nodded, my mouth dry. “Understood.”

And just like that, I found myself welcomed into the heart of the mafia—a place I never imagined I’d be, all because of a simple date with a beautiful girl.

REVERSE TROPE WRITING PROMPTS

Too many beds

Accidentally kidnapping a mafia boss

Really nice guy who hates only you

Academic rivals except it’s two teachers who compete to have the best class

Divorce of convenience

Too much communication

True hate’s kiss (only kissing your enemy can break a curse)

Dating your enemy’s sibling

Lovers to enemies

Hate at first sight

Love triangle where the two love interests get together instead

Fake amnesia

Soulmates who are fated to kill each other

Strangers to enemies

Instead of fake dating, everyone is convinced that you aren’t actually dating

Too hot to cuddle

Love interest CEO is a himbo/bimbo who runs their company into the ground

Nursing home au

[aliyahwritings]

THE CONTRACTED HEART — Rafe Cameron (09)

MASTERLIST | Basketball Player & Model!Female Reader

Summary: Rafe Cameron, a basketball star, needs a marriage to fix his image, while Model!Reader needs one for citizenship. They may be the perfect solution for each other.

Warnings: smut, descriptions of violence, jealousy, usage of drugs, talks about body image/ed, angst, and lots of bickering. Reader is confident, a people-pleaser, has a traumatic past, and is a sunshine with an attitude. Rafe is a whore, possessive, cocky, and secretive about his past.

Word Count: 4.7k

Aliyah's Notes: y'all are getting fed cause this chapter and the next one are gonna be cute asf so enjoy :)

Three days before the engagement party felt like an endless marathon, with every hour packed to the brim with decisions and errands. The morning started early—too early for your liking—as Aisha and Nina practically dragged you out of bed.

Nina, ever the “mom” of the group, had already prepared an itinerary. She stood in the kitchen, arms crossed, her phone in hand, while you slumped in a chair, still clinging to the remnants of sleep. “Alright, ladies,” Nina began, her tone brisk, “we’ve got a packed schedule. Venue first, then flowers, then caterers. We’ll fit in the designer appointment after lunch, assuming someone,” her eyes flicked pointedly toward you, “doesn’t take forever to make decisions.”

Aisha smirked, sipping her coffee as she leaned against the counter. “You know she’ll take forever. She was debating the color of napkins for twenty minutes for her birthday party.”

“Because they matter!” you protested, sitting up straighter, your natural energy kicking in. “The wrong napkin can throw off the entire table aesthetic. Imagine gold chargers with plain white napkins—horrible!”

Aisha groaned dramatically, while Nina pinched the bridge of her nose. “God give me strength,” Nina muttered in Tagalog under her breath before clapping her hands. “Alright, let’s move. The decorator is expecting us in twenty minutes, and I’m not letting us be late.”

The three of you piled into Nina’s car, and the drive to the venue was filled with your endless chatter. You couldn’t help yourself; you were excited. Ever since your night at Rafe’s, you’ve been walking around with a weight lift off your shoulders, and a smile on your face. “Okay, but seriously, do you think white and gold is too basic? Should I add a pop of color? Like blush pink? Or emerald green! Oh, that could be so chic—”

“Breathe, Miss. Yapper,” Aisha interrupted, shooting you a look from the front seat. “You’ve already settled on white and gold. Don’t backtrack now.”

“She’s just overthinking again,” Nina said from the driver’s seat, her voice calm but firm. “You always do this, sweetie. Just trust your instincts. They’re good… most of the time.”

“Most of the time?!” you repeated, feigning offense.

“Girl, you’re the one who almost ordered heart-shaped balloons for your ex’s retirement party,” your best friend deadpanned.

“He always complained about his job, alright! I thought he was happy to retire.”

The two of them burst into laughter, and you couldn’t help but join in. They always knew how to make you laugh, even when your perfectionism threatened to take over.

When you arrived at the venue, the decorator was already waiting, surrounded by samples of linens, centerpieces, and lighting options. The grand ballroom looked beautiful even in its unfinished state, with its high ceilings and floor-to-ceiling windows letting in streams of sunlight. But you could already see a million tiny things that needed to be fixed or adjusted.

Nina took charge of logistics, confirming delivery times and setups with the decorator, while Aisha kept you in check. Every time you tried to change something—a table arrangement here, a floral display there—Aisha would cross her arms and give you a warning glare.

“Focus, Y/N. You’re going to drive this poor decorator insane,” Aisha muttered as you debated, for the third time, whether the table runners should have a satin or matte finish.

“It’s not insane to want things to be perfect,” you argued, though your voice was tinged with doubt.

“It’s insane when you’re deciding between two things that look exactly the same,” Aisha countered.

“Pale beige and normal beige are completely different—”

Nina swooped in to mediate, her tone soothing. “Look, kids, both options are gorgeous. Y/N, pick one and move on. We still have three more stops today.”

You sighed, finally nodding and pointing to the matte finish. The decorator gave you a grateful smile, and you moved on to the next decision.

By the time you left the venue, your head was spinning, but there was no time to slow down. The next stop was the florist, where the three of you pored over bouquets and arrangements.

“Peonies are elegant, but are they too soft for the theme?” you mused aloud, holding up a sample.

“Peonies are fine,” Nina assured you, already checking her phone for the next appointment.

“Roses are boring,” Aisha chimed in, inspecting a cluster of orchids. “But these could work. They’re dramatic. Like you.”

You stuck your tongue out at her, earning a rare laugh from Nina. “She’s not wrong,” Nina said with a small smile.

The florist walked you through the arrangements, but your perfectionism struck again. You wanted everything to complement the aesthetic without feeling overdone. Nina stepped in when she sensed you starting to spiral.

“Y/N, just pick a theme and stick with it,” she said gently but firmly. “You can’t have every flower in the world at your party. Less is more.”

Aisha nodded in agreement. “Listen to her. She’s right. For once.”

Nina rolled her eyes but didn’t dignify the comment with a response.

Eventually, you settled on a mix of peonies, orchids, and eucalyptus, feeling a little more confident as you left the florist.

Lunch was a quick stop at a café, where you barely had time to scarf down a sandwich before heading to your next appointment. The designer fitting was a whirlwind of fabrics, sequins, and pins, with you trying on dress after dress while Nina and Aisha offered their unfiltered opinions.

By the end of the day, you were utterly spent. You stumbled through the door of your apartment, exhaustion hit you like a ton of bricks. You kicked off your heels, letting them clatter onto the floor, and flopped onto the couch with a moan. Your feet ached, your head was pounding, and the thought of the work you have for tomorrow made you want to cry.

Just as you were debating whether to order takeout or crawl into bed and call it a night. Your phone buzzed—-your new phone that you bought yesterday after losing your original one and your keys at the charity event—-on the coffee table. You reached for it, squinting at the screen.

Rafe: “Longest. Day. Ever.”

A small smile tugged at your lips despite your fatigue. You propped yourself up against the armrest and typed back.

You: “Tell me about it. I’m so dead! Who knew choosing flowers could feel like a full-body workout?”

His response came almost immediately.

Rafe: “Yeah? Well, at least you didn’t have to run for AN HOUR!!! My legs feel like they’re about to give up on me.”

You: “Poor baby. Want me to send you a trophy for Most Exhausted Future Fiancé-to-Be?”

Rafe: “Ha. Ha. So funny.”

Rafe: “Are you sure we’re not married yet? You already sound like a nagging wife.”

The audacity of him made you chuckle and roll your eyes. You typed quickly, unable to help yourself.

You: “Excuse you? If I’m a nagging wife, then you’re a whiny husband.”

Rafe: “Whatever you say, nagging wife.”

You let out a quiet laugh, shaking your head as you sank further into the couch. The teasing back-and-forth was an oddly comforting way to unwind after such a chaotic day.

You: “Seriously though, did you at least eat? Or are you surviving off your ego again?”

Rafe: “Does a protein bar and water count?”

You groaned audibly, your fingers flying across the screen.

You: “No, Rafe. A protein bar and water do NOT count. A protein bar is not food; it’s a snack. Please tell me you’ve got something decent in your fridge.”

Rafe: “Define ‘decent’…”

You: “I’m going to kill you.”

Rafe: “That’s very romantic, baby, but you’re avoiding the question. What’s the verdict? Is my fridge decent enough for you, Your Honor?”

You: “No.”

You: “Knowing you, it’s probably full of water bottles, expired vegetables, and mystery leftovers. Am I wrong?”

Rafe: “I don’t like this attack on my character.”

You: “Answer the question, Cameron.”

Rafe: “Fine. Maybe you’re right. I don’t have the energy to argue. Or to cook, for that matter.”

You sighed again, a twinge of concern sneaking past your teasing. You guessed he pushed himself hard during training, but the least he could do was take care of himself after.

You: “Alright, what do you feel like eating? I’ll bring you something.”

Rafe: “What? No. You just spent all day running around. You don’t have to do that.”

You: “Too late. I offered, and I’m not taking it back. So, what’ll it be?”

Rafe: “...You’re really doing this, huh?”

You: “Absolutely.”

Rafe: “Fine. Surprise me. Just nothing too fancy. I’m starving.”

You: “Got it. Be there in an hour.”

Rafe: “Angel.”

Shaking your head, you pocketed your phone and headed to the kitchen. After a quick assessment of what you had on hand, you decided on a simple but satisfying dish: chicken biryani. 

Cooking helped you relax after the chaotic day. The process of measuring spices, chopping onions, and stirring the pot grounded you, your mind focused on creating something warm and filling. By the time the dish was done, the air was fragrant with the scent of saffron, cardamom, and cloves.

You packed the biryani into a container, added a side of pudding kheer for balance, and grabbed some naan for good measure. After a quick freshen-up, you were on your way to Rafe’s penthouse.

When he opened the door, the sight of him hit you like a punch to the gut. Rafe stood there in low-hanging sweatpants that clung to his hips, no shirt in sight, leaving every inch of his toned chest and sculpted abs on full display. His damp hair was a tousled mess, drops of water clinging to his skin, catching the light as they slid down the defined lines of his torso. He leaned casually against the doorframe, his gaze raking over you with a mix of cocky amusement and exhaustion. The lazy grin tugging at his lips was enough to make your pulse stutter—and the way his voice dipped, low and teasing, when he finally spoke didn’t help. 

“Well, well,” he drawled. “Look who showed up. My nagging wife bearing gifts.”

You rolled your eyes, forcing yourself to focus on the container in your hands instead of his sexy, very sexy abs. “You want dinner or not, Cameron? ‘Cause I can take it back?”

He instantly straightened up. “Come in, Your Honor,” he stepped aside to let you in, his grin widening when he saw the bag in your hand.

The penthouse was dimly lit, the warm glow of the city skyline visible through the floor-to-ceiling windows. You set the food on the kitchen island, trying to ignore the way he was watching you with that infuriating smirk.

You looked at your attire, and rolled your eyes. “Stop staring at my ass and grab plates,” you ordered, sounding stern.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, clearly amused, but he obeyed.

The two of you sat at the island, the meal between you. You put your hair in a bun, and said; “So, this is chicken biryani—” you pointed to it. “—and this is kheer and some naan.”

“This looks amazing, Y/N,” he let out a groan of appreciation.

You blushed at the compliment. “Thank you. You ever had Asian food before?”

“I had sushi and ramen with my team—”

You chuckled. “I meant South Asian food, Rafe.”

“Oh. South Asian…”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “You know, Indian, Sri Lankan, Pakistani, etc… Did you?”

He shook his head. “I don’t remember. I eat basic white man food, to be honest.”

“I realized,” you laughed. “Well, eat well.”

Rafe took his first bite, and his eyes widened. “Yo! This is delicious, what the fuck?”

You smiled, watching as he devoured the food like he hadn’t eaten in days. “Told you protein bars wouldn’t cut it—”

“You’re not going to eat?”

“I already ate,” you lied.

“Bullshit,” he said, giving you a pointed look. “Have some with me. I don’t like eating alone.”

You hesitated for a moment before giving in, grabbing a fork and joining him. The two of you ate in companionable silence, the tension of the day melting away with each bite.

For a brief moment, it didn’t feel like you were preparing for an engagement party or navigating the complicated arrangement that had brought you together. It felt easy, natural—like something that didn’t require overthinking.

You stood at the sink, sleeves rolled up, rinsing off the plates and containers. Warm water rushed over your hands as you scrubbed away the remnants of biryani and naan. The scent of spices lingered in the air, a comforting reminder of the meal you’d shared. Behind you, Rafe leaned against the counter, his tall frame relaxed but his eyes fixed on you.

“You know,” he said, his voice cutting through the quiet hum of the faucet, “you really don’t have to do this.”

“You’ve said that already,” you replied without turning around, focusing instead on rinsing the plate in your hand.

“Because I mean it. I can clean tomorrow,” he quipped, folding his arms across his bare chest.

A chuckle escaped you, and you tossed him a look over your shoulder. “Some of us were raised to clean up immediately after eating. It’s a brown girl thing—no one leaves the kitchen messy in my house.”

Rafe raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a smirk. “Ah, so it’s cultural?”

“Hell yeah,” you replied, turning back to the sink. “If my mom ever caught me walking away from a pile of dishes, I wouldn’t live to see another day.”

“Sounds intense,” he teased, though his tone was laced with curiosity.

“You’re just white,” you shot back, and he laughed. “But also… I kind of like it,” you admitted, your voice softer now. “It feels wrong to leave things undone. Like you’re disrespecting the meal or something.”

Rafe was quiet for a moment, and you could feel his gaze lingering on you, not with judgment but something that felt closer to admiration.

“You’re kind of incredible, you know that?” he said finally.

You blinked, caught off guard. “For doing the dishes? Your standards are low, Cameron.”

He laughed, the sound deep and genuine. “No, I mean… just in general. You don’t have to cook for me or clean up after me, but you do it anyway. And you don’t even make a big deal out of it. You’re just… thoughtful.”

His words made you pause, your hands still under the running water. For a man who often masked his feelings behind sarcasm and cockiness, the sincerity in his voice hit you harder than you expected.

“Well,” you said, trying to keep your tone light, “don’t get used to it. Just because I cleaned your kitchen tonight doesn’t mean I’m signing up to do it forever.”

Rafe grinned, stepping closer. “Noted. One-time deal.”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head as you shut off the faucet and reached for the dish towel. “Besides, I wasn’t cleaning for you. I was cleaning for my own peace of mind.”

“Still,” he said, his voice dropping slightly, “thanks. For all of it.”

You glanced over at him, caught off guard again by the softness in his tone. The cocky grin he usually wore was replaced by something more subdued, more genuine. It made your chest tighten in a way you weren’t ready to think about.

“It’s not a big deal,” you said, your voice quieter now. “Just food and a few dishes.”

“To you, maybe,” he said, leaning against the counter beside you. “But it’s been a while since anyone’s done something like this for me. I don’t even know the last time I had an actual home-cooked meal.”

That admission tugged at something deep inside you, a mix of sympathy and affection you weren’t quite prepared for. You focused on folding the towel in your hands, hoping he wouldn’t notice the way your cheeks warmed.

“Well, someone has to make sure you don’t live off protein bars and bad decisions,” you said lightly, trying to steer the conversation back into familiar territory.

Rafe chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Guess I should count myself lucky it’s you.”

Your eyes flicked up to his, and for a moment, you forgot how to respond. The way he was looking at you—soft, unguarded, and almost reverent—made your heart skip a beat.

“Alright, stop,” you said, breaking the moment and brushing past him toward the counter. “You’re making it weird.”

“Making what weird?” he asked, following you with an amused grin.

“Everything,” you shot back, grabbing your bag. “And don’t think I didn’t notice you slacking off while I did all the work. Next time, you’re cleaning.”

“Deal,” he said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “As long as there’s a next time.”

You hesitated at the door, looking back at him. His smirk was still there, but so was that softness in his eyes, the one that made it hard to look away. Bag slung over your shoulder and shoes slipped back on, ready to leave Rafe’s penthouse and head home for what was left of the night. The day had drained you, and though the quiet domestic moment you’d just shared with him was nice—unexpectedly so—you still needed to recharge for tomorrow’s chaos.

“You don’t have to leave yet,” he said, almost too casually, as if trying to disguise the sincerity in his tone.

You paused, glancing back at him. “Rafe, it’s late. I’m exhausted. You’re exhausted. We both need sleep.”

He shrugged, his mouth curling into that boyish grin that usually meant trouble. “So? Five more minutes won’t hurt. Sit down, relax. You’ve been running around all day.”

You narrowed your eyes at him but relented, curiosity getting the better of you. “Fine. Five minutes,” you muttered, dropping your bag onto the floor again and heading to the couch.

Rafe followed you, sitting on the other end of the couch, though he shifted closer. His arm rested along the backrest, his entire posture relaxed in a way that only made you more aware of him.

“So,” he began, his tone lighter now, “what did you actually do today? Besides fighting with tablecloths and flowers, I mean.”

You groaned, leaning back into the cushions. “It feels like that’s all I did. The decorators kept bringing me options that were either too tacky or too plain. And don’t even get me started on the florists. Nina kept trying to keep me on schedule, Aisha rolled her eyes at every single arrangement, and I was stuck in the middle.”

His laugh was low and warm. “Sounds like a nightmare.”

“It was,” you said, though there was a faint smile tugging at your lips now. “But somehow, it’s all starting to come together. Slowly. Painfully. I think we’re making progress.”

He tilted his head, watching you with that quiet intensity he always seemed to have when you weren’t paying attention. “You really care about this party, huh?”

You hesitated, the weight of his gaze making it harder to brush off the question. “Yeah, I guess I do,” you admitted softly. “I mean, if we don’t make it believable then I’d have to go back to my country, and I can’t let that happen.”

Rafe was silent for a moment, his eyes never leaving yours. The soft light in the room cast shadows across his face, making him look more vulnerable, less guarded than usual.

“You’re putting so much thought into it,” he said finally, his voice quieter now. “More than anyone else would, I think.”

You shrugged, your gaze dropping to your hands. “Just doing what needs to be done. Nothing special.”

“It is special,” he said, his tone firm but gentle.

The sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten. You glanced up at him, meeting his gaze for a moment that felt like it stretched on forever. There was something unspoken in his expression, something soft and unfamiliar that made your heart stutter.

“Okay, your turn,” you said quickly, needing to break the tension. “What did you do today, besides run yourself into the ground?”

His smirk returned, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Practice, drills, meetings. The usual.”

“You make it sound so thrilling,” you teased, crossing your arms.

“Oh, it’s a blast,” he said with mock enthusiasm. “Nothing like running suicides and lifting until your arms feel like they’re gonna fall off. And then sitting in a room listening to people tell you how to market yourself better.”

“Sounds glamorous,” you said, leaning back into the couch with a small laugh.

Rafe chuckled, his gaze softening as he watched you. “It’s not. But then again, you make flower arrangements sound like boot camp, so I guess we’re even.”

You smiled, letting the comfortable quiet settle between you for a moment. The hum of the city outside was faint but constant, a reminder of how late it had gotten.

“I should really go,” you said, breaking the silence and sitting up.

Rafe’s hand reached out, brushing against yours as he spoke. “You don’t have to.”

The softness in his voice caught you off guard, and for a moment, you stayed still, his fingers lingering near yours. The space between you suddenly felt smaller, charged with something neither of you were ready to name.

“Rafe,” you said gently, pulling your hand back, though your voice betrayed your hesitation.

“Stay a little longer,” he said, his eyes searching for yours. “This is… nice. Just sitting here. Talking.”

Your heart thudded in your chest at his words, and you looked away, pretending to straighten your bag. “I can’t. I’ve got another long day tomorrow, and so do you.”

He sighed but didn’t argue, leaning back into the couch. “Alright. But you owe me another five minutes next time.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head as you stood. “Sure, Cameron. I’ll pencil it into my busy schedule.”

He followed you to the door again, his presence warm and steady behind you. As you stepped into the hallway, you glanced back at him, your smile softer now.

As you moved toward the door, your bag slung over your shoulder, Rafe trailed behind you, his hands tucked casually into the pockets of his sweatpants. The quiet between you was comfortable, a marked contrast to the constant noise of the day. Just as you reached for the handle, his voice broke the silence.

“So… my dad called today,” he said, his tone light but deliberate.

You paused, turning slightly to glance at him, curiosity flickering in your expression. “Oh? What about?”

Rafe leaned against the frame, his posture deceptively relaxed. “He wanted to ask about you.”

The corners of your mouth lifted in a faint smirk. “Me? Why? Should I be flattered or scared?”

He chuckled, though it came with a hint of exasperation. “Because you’re about to be my life, and you should definitely be flattered. He’s been… curious, I guess. You’re kind of a hot topic at the moment.”

Your brow furrowed as you adjusted the strap of your bag. “What do you mean?”

Rafe shrugged, though his eyes flickered to yours briefly before looking away. “He’s been asking when he and Rose can meet you. Sarah’s been on my case about it too. She wants to meet you again. It’s like they’re more excited about this whole engagement thing than I am.”

There was an edge to his words, not quite bitterness but something close to it, and you stepped back from the door slightly, your curiosity deepening. “Is that… a bad thing?”

“No, it’s not bad,” he said quickly, though his jaw tightened ever so slightly. “It’s just… predictable. My dad’s all about appearances, and this engagement makes us look good. You make me look good.”

His words were meant to sound casual, but the weight beneath them was unmistakable. You softened your tone as you leaned against the couch. “Rafe, if you’re not comfortable with all this, you can tell me. I’m not going to—”

“It’s not that,” he interrupted, shaking his head. “It’s just… complicated.”

You tilted your head, watching him carefully. “How so?”

He hesitated, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “My family has this way of… making everything feel like a performance. You know? Like, they’re not just happy about this engagement because it’s a good thing for me. They’re happy because it’s a good thing for them. My dad’s already talking about how it’ll ‘strengthen the Cameron name,’ and Rose keeps mentioning how much she ‘adores your poise.’”

You blinked at him, momentarily caught off guard. “Wait, your step-mother said that? About me?”

He laughed lightly, nodding. “Yeah. I think she’s obsessed with you already.”

You couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped you. “Wow. And here I thought winning over your dad would be the hard part.”

“Oh, don’t worry. He’ll grill you like a steak the second he gets a chance,” Rafe said, his tone teasing but his smile tinged with something softer. “He doesn’t trust anyone, especially not when it comes to me.”

You frowned at that, your arms crossing instinctively. “Why not? You’re… I mean, you’re his son. Shouldn’t he trust you the most?”

Rafe’s smile faltered for a split second before he masked it with another shrug. “Let’s just say my track record isn’t exactly spotless. And my dad… he’s always been more interested in results than reasons. This marriage? It’s a result he likes. That’s all.”

The raw honesty in his words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. Finally, you stepped closer, your voice quieter now. “Rafe, if this is too much—if your family’s involvement is making it harder—I can talk to them. Set boundaries or whatever.”

He shook his head, his eyes meeting yours. “You don’t have to do that. It’s not your problem to fix.”

“Maybe not,” you said, your gaze unwavering, “but it’s my problem now too.”

“Such a good wife already,” he caressed your cheeks softly, the corner of his mouth twitched, his smirk returning faintly. “You’re really taking this whole ‘teamwork’ thing seriously, huh?”

“I’m a perfectionist,” you replied, matching his tone. “Can’t help it.”

He chuckled, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “You’re too good at this, you know. My family’s already halfway in love with you, and you haven’t even met them yet.”

“Maybe I should be worried,” you teased, though there was a softness in your voice now.

“Don’t be,” he said, his tone quieter as he let his hand down your face. “If anything, they’re the ones who should be worried. You’re gonna walk in there, charm everyone without even trying, and leave me to deal with their unrealistic expectations.”

You laughed, the sound light and genuine, and Rafe found himself leaning just a little closer, caught up in the warmth of the moment.

“Well, if they’re anything like you,” you said, your voice still tinged with amusement, “I’m sure I’ll survive.”

Rafe’s smirk faltered for a moment, replaced by something softer, something you couldn’t quite name. “They’re nothing like me,” he said quietly, almost to himself.

The words hung in the air, and for a moment, neither of you moved. His gaze lingered on yours, steady and unguarded in a way that made your breath catch.

“Rafe…” you began, your voice trailing off as his expression shifted ever so slightly, something unreadable flickering across his face.

But just as quickly as the moment had come, it passed. He straightened, his usual smirk slipping back into place like a mask. “You should probably get some rest,” he said, his tone lighter now. “You’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

You blinked, startled by the sudden shift, but nodded. “Yeah. You too.”

He followed you to the door, his presence steady behind you as you stepped into the hallway. As you turned back to glance at him one last time, his expression softened again, his blue eyes holding yours for a beat longer than necessary.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he said, his voice quieter now.

“Goodnight, Rafe,” you replied, your chest tightening slightly as you walked away, the weight of his gaze following you long after you’d gone.

chapter ten

[dissapointu]

Arcane characters throwing a birthday party for the reader who has a bad memory and forgot his own birthday 😝

((my memory is rubbish, I can forget things I'm going to say/do In the same second , casual conversations, details and commitments 😔 planners are my best friends)

Happy birthday again 🥳

BABE. FIRST OF ALL.your faves would 1000000% throw you the most extra, heartfelt birthday party of all time because you deserve to feel loved and celebrated—memory or not.

So here’s how they’d handle it when you’re out here vibing, completely forgetting it’s your special day, and they’re like “Oh no, not on my watch.”

————————————————————————-

Jinx

Jinx is giving CHAOTIC ENERGY for this party. She’s not even subtle about it.

• You’d probably walk in and see her messing with some dangerous contraption, and she’d be like, “SURPRISE! You forgot your birthday, but I didn’t!”

• The party is WILD—explosions (small ones, probably), neon lights, spray-painted “HAPPY BIRTHDAY” signs, and cupcakes she may or may not have dropped at least once.

• She’s dragging you into every game and activity, yelling stuff like, “You don’t get to forget your own birthday, dummy! That’s what I’m here for!”

• By the end of the night, she’s probably passed out on the couch, holding a balloon, mumbling about how you’re “the best ever.”

Vi

Vi’s the type to keep it lowkey cool but still make it super special.

• She’d notice you forgot your own birthday and go, “Really? Guess I gotta take matters into my own hands.”

• She’d gather all your favorite people, decorate with some string lights and snacks, and surprise you like, “Told you I’d always have your back, didn’t I?”

• She’s keeping an eye on you all night, making sure you’re actually enjoying yourself and not overthinking anything.

• Before the night’s over, she’s pulling you aside for a quiet moment like, “Next time you forget your birthday, I’m just gonna tattoo it on your forehead.”

Sevika

Sevika pretends she doesn’t care, but she’s planning this whole thing in SECRET.

• She’s got a killer poker face, so when you’re like, “Wait, is today my birthday?” she’s just smirking like, “Guess you’ll find out.”

• The party is simple but PERFECT—her version of “lowkey” is making sure everything you love is there: your favorite food, drinks, and music.

• She acts all casual about it during the party, but at some point, she hands you a gift and says, “Don’t forget who made this happen.”

Silco

Silco would be so extra but act like it’s no big deal.

• He notices you forgot your birthday and immediately starts plotting. He’s like, “How does one forget their own existence? I’ll have to fix this.”

• The party is elegant AF���dim lighting, fancy food, and everything planned down to the smallest detail.

• He’s not a big “party” guy, but he’d be there in the corner, sipping his drink, watching you enjoy yourself, and thinking, “Yes, this is satisfactory.”

• At the end of the night, he’d come over and say something soft like, “Don’t forget your worth. I won’t.”

Vander

Vander would be the dad friend who makes your birthday feel like home.

• He’d figure out you forgot and immediately start pulling everyone together to plan something. He’s like, “We can’t let them go another year without feeling special.”

• The party would be warm and cozy—lots of laughter, good food, and a cake he baked himself (even if it’s a little lopsided).

• He’d give you a big hug at some point and say, “You’ve got a lot of people who care about you, even if you forget sometimes.”

• It’s the kind of party that leaves you feeling like you belong.

Ekko

Ekko would turn your forgotten birthday into an unforgettable NIGHT.

• He’d act all chill about it but secretly plan the coolest party ever. Firelight lanterns? Check. Music and dancing? Check. The BEST vibes? Double check.

• When you’re like, “Wait, is this for my birthday?” he’d laugh and say, “Yeah, you kinda forgot, but don’t worry—I didn’t.”

• He’d spend the whole night hyping you up, making sure you know how important you are to him and everyone else.

• By the end of the night, he’s handing you a handmade gift like, “Something to help you remember next time.”

Jayce

Jayce is going ALL OUT. No chill whatsoever.

• He’d throw a huge surprise party, complete with decorations, balloons, and probably a cake with your face on it. “You forgot your birthday? Not on my watch!”

• He’d spend the entire night making sure you’re having fun, constantly checking in like, “You good? Need anything?”

• He’d make a toast at some point, hyping you up in front of everyone. “To the best person I know. Happy birthday, even if you forgot it!”

• You’d leave feeling like the most important person in the world.

Viktor

Viktor would make your birthday feel quietly magical.

• He’d notice you forgot and gently remind you by planning a thoughtful little surprise. “I didn’t forget, so you don’t have to.”

• The party would be small and intimate, with everything tailored to your preferences. Soft lighting, good conversation, and maybe even a little tinkering if you’re into it.

• He’d give you a heartfelt gift, saying something like, “I know your memory gets the best of you, but you’re unforgettable to me.”

Caitlyn

Caitlyn would be the QUEEN of thoughtful birthday surprises.

• She’d find out you forgot your birthday and immediately start planning something sweet and meaningful.

• The party would be elegant but not over-the-top—just enough to make you feel special. She’d definitely include all your favorite things.

• At some point, she’d pull you aside and say, “You might forget your birthday, but I’ll always remember. You’re worth celebrating.”

Mel Medarda

Mel would throw the most glamorous birthday party you’ve ever seen.

• She’d notice you forgot and smile to herself like, “Looks like I’ll have to step in.”

• The party would be GORGEOUS—fancy decor, delicious food, and a vibe that screams “luxury.”

• She’d take a moment to toast to you, saying something poetic like, “To the person who deserves more than they remember to ask for.”

Ambessa Medarda

Ambessa would be direct but thoughtful.

• When she realizes you forgot your birthday, she’d be like, “How do you forget something like that? Never mind—I’ve got it handled.”

• The party would be practical but deeply meaningful—everything chosen with care to make sure you feel appreciated.

• She’d tell you at the end, “Don’t let yourself forget how much you mean to the people around you. We won’t let you.”

Heimerdinger

Heimerdinger would LOVE throwing you a surprise birthday party.

• He’d go all out with quirky decorations, fun activities, and maybe even a little invention to commemorate the day.

• “Ah, you forgot your birthday? No worries—I remembered for you!”

• The whole night would be filled with laughter and warmth, and he’d make sure you know just how much you’re appreciated.

Salo

Salo would be quiet but so sincere.

• He’d notice you forgot your birthday and take it upon himself to plan a small but meaningful celebration.

• The party would be simple but full of heart—just the right mix of people, good food, and a little reminder of how much you’re loved.

Scar

Scar would be CHAOTICALLY AMAZING.

• He’d be the one yelling, “YOU FORGOT YOUR BIRTHDAY? HOW???” while running around setting up decorations.

• The party would be loud, fun, and full of energy. He’d make sure you’re smiling the entire time, yelling stuff like, “This is YOUR day! Own it!”

Maddie Nolen

Maddie would be super sweet and thoughtful.

• She’d notice you forgot your birthday and plan something small but so full of love.

• She’d quietly make sure you’re comfortable and enjoying yourself, saying, “You might forget things sometimes, but I’ll never forget how special you are.”

Lest

Lest would be so kind and gentle about it.

• She’d realize you forgot and immediately start planning a little surprise to make you smile.

• The party would feel magical, like a fairytale, with every detail chosen just for you.

• She’d tell you at some point, “Even if your memory fails you, you have me to remind you.”

[emotionalsupport-ljh]

Focus

All I see is you.

Woozi x fem!reader x Hoshi

BISEXUAL THREESOME!! Happy Birth Month Woozi!!!! You deserve the world and even more.

AO3 link

Word Count: 3.7k

CW: M/M anal sex, cunnilingus, 69, blow job, light rimming, cum swallowing, hand job, anal fingering and Jihoon receives all that applies to him

˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🎂 ꒱ ˎˊ˗

Jihoon is gathering all of the presents that lie around discarded gift paper and decorative boxes. Some jewelry and clothing, a few gift cards, some PR packages from various companies, and the cute, custom decorated guitar case you got him make up the haul of birthday gifts that he now has to find a place for in his room. He places each item back in its original packaging carefully, enjoying the silence. It wasn’t a huge party or anything, just his members and some producing friends of his that stopped by to drop off gifts and give well-wishes. But still, when you invite 12 rowdy boys and your mischievous girlfriend to a party, things will get loud.

Now, with everyone gone, it’s finally quiet. Well, almost everyone is gone, and it’s almost quiet. Jihoon’s thoughts are interrupted by giggling in the corner followed by loud shushing. He looks over to see you and Soonyoung whispering to each other in the corner. Conspiring. Jihoon doesn’t have a good feeling about this. You and Soonyoung are giggling quietly and whispering to each other. You hit Soonyoung lightly on the shoulder after he says something and winks. Jihoon’s eyebrows furrow; he’s very confused about what the two of you could possibly be talking about that, apparently, he wasn’t allowed to know.

You turn your gaze to see Jihoon is staring with a confused and cautious look on his face. You say something, and Soonyoung turns to look at Jihoon as well. Then, you both smile. It’s a wide grin that is somehow sinister to Jihoon. He winces under your gazes. Soonyoung starts to move toward him and you follow. You get up close to Jihoon where he stands next to the coffee table piled high with birthday presents, and you cuddle up to his arm while Soonyoung faces him. 

“What?” Jihoon says to break the silent anticipation that’s only making him more nervous.

“We have a surprise for you,” Soonyoung starts. Jihoon instinctively tries to back up, but is anchored by you holding onto his arm.

“One last gift for your birthday,” you add. It doesn’t surprise Jihoon that you guys are up to something together. You and Soonyoung are a lot alike. You are both outspoken when you need to be and wildcards in most situations. You are both chill enough, though, that you can be comfortable with minimal effort. You fit easily into Jihoon’s comfort zone, and you know exactly when to bring him out of it. He needs you both in his life to balance him out.

But when you two get together, it’s a double dose of crazy for him that’s usually scary in the beginning, but when he gets used to the idea, ends up having a very good time. This is one of those situations; Jihoon can feel it. 

“It’s not gonna hurt, is it?” Jihoon asks earnestly.

You chuckle at the sweet question, “No…” then you pause, “Well, maybe just a little, but you will like it so much.”

You start to walk, still holding onto Jihoon’s arm, leading him to his bedroom. Soonyoung follows along, pushing gently at his reluctant shoulders to keep the train moving along. Once you all get in the room, you sit Jihoon down while Soonyoung closes the door. Jihoon is so nervous, he thinks he hears the click of a lock sounding when Soonyoung turns back toward you guys to join you sitting on the bed.

“Don’t look so nervous,” Soonyoung laughs and gives Jihoon a friendly slap on the back. 

You take his hands in yours and look him in the eye. You start talking slowly, “We were just wondering…” you trail the sentence and look deep into his eyes, “if you wanted to have a threesome with us. For your birthday.”

Jihoon lets out a deep sigh. He was holding his breath for so long that he doesn’t remember when he started. He doesn’t know what he was expecting, but it’s just a proposition for sex. Sex! He’s done that. He likes that. And he’s done it with both of you at the same time before: A wonderful night in a hotel, coming out of being tipsy, horny, and surrounded by his girlfriend, the most attractive girl in the world, and his best friend, a pretty damn handsome guy.

“Oh, thank god,” he breathes, now cracking a small smile. “Yeah, that sounds like fun.”

Jihoon reaches over and places a hand directly on the crotch of your pants. He’s leaning in to kiss you until you move his hand from you to hold it. He looks in your eyes, confused, and you smile sweetly at him. A little too sweetly. 

“I know you usually focus on me, but it is your birthday, Ji. We want to focus on you.” Your voice drops to a sultry tone for the last part of the sentence as you lean over to kiss him. Immediately, you get his mouth open and your tongue finds its way all over his. The kiss is a simple spark that gets Jihoon going. He’s hungry for it, distracted by it. So distracted, he almost doesn’t fully register what exactly you said.

A hand from the other side of Jihoon reaches for the crotch of his pants. It’s Soonyoung rubbing at his cock through his black joggers. It’s a surprise. Jihoon opens his eyes, but doesn’t disconnect from your lips. He looks down and sees Soonyoung working at his drawstring. You disconnect from Jihoon panting, trying to catch your breath. Your hand finds where Soonyoung is pulling at Jihoon’s joggers to get them down. You snake your hand to rest over his underwear which causes him to mewl.

Jihoon turns his gaze toward Soonyoung and is met with his hooded eyes. Sometimes, he does look like an apex predator, ready to sink his teeth into his prey. He leans into Jihoon; he looks like he’s going in for the kill. He captures his lips in a hungry kiss as his hands work Jihoon’s pants down his hips and legs. You move down in front of them to situate yourself between Jihoon’s legs. Your warm breath tickles against his clothed cock. Jihoon shivers at the feeling and scoots forward toward the stimulation.

Your mouth meets his underwear, leaving wet spots on the bulge of his shaft, head, and balls. He gets harder and harder under your care while Soonyoung continues to strip his freshly caught prey; his hands have found the hem of Jihoon’s shirt and trail up his stomach to his chest, pulling the garment up with it. Soonyoung pauses for a moment just to tweak a nipple and hear Jihoon gasp into their still roiling kiss. 

You watch as Jihoon’s shirt does finally come off and Soonyoung’s hands are all over him. He pushes Jihoon’s shoulders down until they reach the bed where he can mount the smaller boy, capturing him in a trap of a kiss that just gets hotter and hotter. You take this progression as a good sign to finally remove the obstructing piece of clothing in front of you so that you can do some real work. Your fingers hook into Jihoon’s underwear and quickly slide them down his legs, exposing his fully hard dick standing proud. From your perspective, that thing looks like it’s a mile long. You eagerly take the tip into your mouth and wrap your fingers around the base. You stroke him slowly, all the way from the base up to meet where your mouth is attached at the tip. Your grip is strong and steady and you suck hard, tasting bits of salty precum that land on your tongue.

Jihoon’s moan is so explosive that his mouth falls completely open leaving Soonyoung licking inside, still hungry. He moves to latch onto the boy’s neck during the moan, feeling the vibrations of a pure voice on his wet lips. Jihoon’s body is just as electrified as a live wire. He jolts and shakes as if his nervous system has stopped its regular functions and needs a good reset. His brain is offline except for the sensation of the absolute pleasure of four hands and two mouths roaming his body and cock until every inch is explored and mapped thoroughly. And both you and Soonyoung are still fully clothed.

You lift your head to smile at him from between his legs, and keep a steady pace with your hand stroking his length. Soonyoung meets your gaze and joins you, placing his hand on the parts of Jihoon’s dick that you can't touch. Jihoon clocks the both of you communicating with just your facial expressions. He surmises that you're still conspiring, and he can’t imagine what the hell else you’re planning to do with him.

“What?” Jihoon whines out this time, propping himself on his elbows. He’s leveling an exasperated look at you then to Soonyoung. It’s like he’s begging to be let in on a secret.

“Nothing, Jihoonie, just sit back and enjoy,” you try to get him a little relaxed about the situation. Truly, he has nothing to worry about at all because you and Soonyoung will be doing all the work.

“You guys are working together against me!” Jihoon breathes out in staggered breaths. Soonyoung’s hand remains on his length while yours travels south to massage his balls. “There’s still something you're not telling me!” he lets out through a groan.

Soonyoung speaks up, “We told you everything, Jihoonie. You are the focus tonight, so we’ll do everything to you. Whatever you want.”

Jihoon takes a moment to let the words soak in. The movement on his crotch hasn’t ceased or slowed in the slightest which scrambles his brain enough that it takes a moment for him to form cohesive thoughts. The angel on his shoulder is telling him to interrogate you and be let in on everything you’re not saying. The devil on the other side is telling him to let himself be surprised, and maybe start demanding more of what he wants. It is his birthday, after all.

“Whatever I want?” He listens to that little devil.

“Yup, baby, whatever you want,” you reply, nodding excitedly.

Jihoon bites his bottom lip before continuing with his one request, “Then why don’t you come over here and… take a seat.”

You raise your eyebrows, “You wanna eat my pussy?”

“I always want to eat your pussy.” Jihoon finally relaxes a little and lays all the way back down, readying himself. You stand up and strip down completely. Your panties are the last things to hit the floor, and you position yourself on the bed, knees on either side of his head and your wetness right above his face. Soonyoung reaches his free hand out and you take it. Now steady, you slowly sink down until you feel a tongue slither between your labia, lapping up all the wetness you had accumulated. You grind down, riding Jihoon. With your hand still in Soonyoung's you give him a silent look then look down at where his hand is still taking its time working on Jihoon’s length. 

“Now?” Soonyoung asks.

You nod, “Yes, now.”

If Jihoon were to ask you if you were purposefully trying to tease him with the secrecy and covert plans you and Soonyoung made, you wouldn’t lie. It’s funny to see him a little frustrated, curious, and scared. You would never harm him, but he tends to anticipate the worst. So, this three-word exchange is just another jab at the man currently licking inside of you. Jihoon makes sure you know how he feels about it by giving you a good slap on the ass, never breaking his rhythm. You grind down harder on him in response, hoping to suffocate him. 

Soonyoung starts to enact the next phase of the threesome plan. He takes his shirt off which gives you a nice view that makes you a little weak in the knees. You brace your hands on Jihoon’s built chest and continue riding his face fervently. Soonyoung chuckles low in his chest then grabs a little bottle and brings it back to the bed. He takes the position you had assumed, right between Jihoon’s legs. You help him by bringing Jihoon’s knees up while you sink down, your mouth now very close to Jihoon’s cock. Soonyoung is spreading a cool thick substance on his fingers.

Two things happen to Jihoon at the same time. The first thing he registers is a familiar warm and wet sensation on the majority of his cock as you attempt to take the entirety in your mouth at once. You suck hard and make sure your tongue lies flush against it, sending shivers down Jihoon’s spine. He’s moaning into your pussy, now more determined to lick and suck and fuck into it. The other thing hits Jihoon like a brick. A long, slender but strong finger pokes around his hole, massaging around the rim, before it slithers inside and pumps a few times as a test. Jihoon’s breath hitches in his chest. You feel him pause, and you smirk as much as you can with his dick in your mouth.

“Before you protest, Jihoonie, just think about how good it’s going to feel when I find your g-spot,” Soonyoung says, trying his best to diffuse whatever Jihoon must be thinking right now. “I mean, you have a girl on your dick and a pussy in your mouth. I’m just covering all the bases,” he continues to reason. His finger begins to pump in and out of Jihoon like a demonstration of his point.

Jihoon has already made it this far, and he’s stopped long enough that you start wiggling your cute ass in his face waiting for him to keep on going. It’s not like he hasn’t had things inside of him before. He decides at this moment, while his brain runs on pure libido, to trust Soonyoung. When the tongue resumes its assault on your pussy with a long lick from your clit back to your hole, you give a long moan that’s well-muffled by Jihoon’s big cock.

Soonyoung almost watches the wheels turn in Jihoon’s head. He hears him give you the proverbial go-ahead and says, “Good choice,” then he punctuates the words by adding another finger to stretch the hole a bit more. He’s a little jealous watching the two of you have a good time with something in your mouths, so he decides to sink down right in front of you and begin sucking on Jihoon’s balls, his last neglected part. Now that he’s given his two pumping fingers and his curious tongue something to do, he can focus on finding the right angle to have Jihoon completely undone.

Jihoon gasps against your pussy. Soonyoung finds his target and gives only a calculated few more jabs into it before adding a third finger and spreading them apart. The assault continues and all you feel is Jihoon’s deep breathing on your most sensitive region as he inches closer and closer to climax. You lock eyes with Soonyoung who is still working Jihoon’s balls with his mouth. You both listen intently to Jihoon get more and more vocal and then – 

Jihoon tries to sit up a little but is only able to move his head around because you have moved to take a firm seat on his chest, pinning him down. He can’t see anything in front of him with your back blocking the view. All of his stimulation disappeared at the same time: no mouths, no hands, nothing. 

“What happened?” He sounds desperate. His voice is strained in distress.

“Can’t have you coming too soon, Jihoonie. We’re not done yet,” you say trying to sound innocent. You finally lift yourself from Jihoon’s chest and un-straddle him. Soonyoung reaches for his hands and pulls him into a close embrace. He kisses Jihoon, then you kiss Jihoon, too. The look on his face is adorable. He’s flushed from his denied orgasm, he’s confused by your behavior, and he’s excited for whatever will happen next. You deepen the kiss, and Jihoon allows you to poke and prod around his mouth with your tongue, tasting all of the slick you left behind. You turn him to face you and he grabs your shoulders, then your breasts, then firmly grips your waist.

Soonyoung pulls Jihoon from behind until he’s sitting in his suddenly naked lap with his back pressed flush against his chest. He attaches his mouth to the side of Jihoon’s neck and, in between kisses and bites, says, “I’m going to fill you up now, okay? Will you let me do that, Jihoonie?” He’s stroking his own cock, coating it with the same lube he used to get Jihoon ready.

Jihoon breaks your kiss and sees the grin you have on your face. You're anticipating his answer excitedly, banking on the fact that he’s super horny and has already been denied an orgasm. He grabs your hands and interlocks your fingers with his. He swallows once then a soft, “Okay,” slips from his red, glistening lips. Everything stalls for a beat then he adds, “Please.”

Soonyoung’s hands are gripping Jihoon’s hips and guiding him to sit on his hard cock. Jihoon finds the initial stretch uncomfortable, but he powers through it, glad he was at least prepared thoroughly. His hands squeeze yours to brace for the sensations. Once he’s sat completely, Jihoon gets used to the feeling. He actually enjoys it. It’s been too long since his last real dick. He’s only had access to toys lately, so it feels good to have a real, long, thick, and warm one inside of him. Soonyoung’s cue to start moving comes when Jihoon begins to restlessly squirm on top of him. He holds Jihoon steady and bucks up into him at a controlled pace. You find yourself almost drooling just watching your boyfriend get fucked by his hot best friend. Your rapt by the way Soonyoung just slides in and out with ease.

The air is hot and heavy as pure sex permeates every corner. Somehow, you end up very close to all the action. Jihoon’s moans shake your eardrums while Soonyoung grunts with each thrust. A rhythm is created from the skin slapping against skin. You lean closer and closer to the two boys until you find yourself licking up Soonyoung’s shaft as it’s exiting Jihoon’s hole. Both men are shocked at your actions though the constant sounds coming from both of them do not falter in the slightest. As you kiss and lick the exposed cock, the volume only increases. Your tongue travels up until it reaches Jihoon’s stretched hole. You lick around what you can get to and stimulate both Jihoon and Soonyoung in the process. Your moans come out as hums, but the extra vibration has them going crazy. 

You pepper soft, wet kisses to Soonyoung and Jihoon, and Soonyoung’s pace increases. You take a moment to glance at them and see that they are both on the edge of climax. Determined to help Jihoon come first, you take his dick in your mouth and suck it while Soonyoung continues fucking into him. Jihoon’s eyes roll into the back of his head; he’s consumed with the feeling. Soonyoung finds his g-spot and ruts up against it. Jihoon goes silent as he comes into your mouth. His mouth hangs open, and his eyes are screwed tightly shut. He rides out his explosive orgasm with his hands in your hair until he pulls you up to give you a searing kiss. Soonyoung bounces Jihoon on his lap a few more times before pulling out and coming on his back in thick streams.

You watch as the two men slump over, breathing heavy and exhausted from their climaxes. Your eyes are hooded and the fire inside you still burns incredibly bright. You let them have their time to rest, though, you can always take care of yourself later. It’s not about you tonight; you understand that. 

There is no way that either Jihoon or Soonyoung would let you go without coming. They both seem to have regained their strength, and they use it to pounce on you, kissing and touching until you, too, have a leg-shaking orgasm. For a while, you all fall and lay back on the dirty sheets, resting. Jihoon is sandwiched between you and Soonyoung and you’re showering him with post-coital praise. 

“That was so fun, Jihoonie!” you exclaim, breathlessly. “Thank you for letting us play with you.”

“Yeah, thanks, Jihoonie. You were so good!” Soonyoung adds.

“I should be thanking you guys. I haven’t fucked like that in a while,” Jihoon pants. He leans over to kiss your cheek and releases with a loud smack of his lips.

Soonyoung begins kissing the back of Jihoon’s shoulder and says, “We should definitely do this more often.”

“Shut up,” Jihoon groans half-jokingly. 

You giggle at the two boys, “It has to be an occasion again, next time. It makes it more special.”

Soonyoung pouts and moves to spoon Jihoon, huffing about the infrequency of your threesomes, and Jihoon rolls his eyes. You’re all still snuggling in the warm bed, catching your breath. It doesn’t matter that a sheen of sweat covers your bodies, or Jihoon still has remnants of Soonyoung sticking to him, or you have a slippery mess coating your inner thighs. You can always shower and change the sheets, but the feeling of being able to provide something for your boyfriend is the most important feeling right now. You can only imagine what Jihoon is thinking right now, but facing him, you see his eyelids start to fall. He has a blissed out look on his face with a subtle smile gracing his lips. You snuggle close, pulling him into your arms as well resting them under Soonyoung’s. The last thought you have before you let sleep overtake you is just a question.

How the hell am I going to top this next year?

[writingblogsandothers]

The Chosen One

Part 2

Writer's Note: Thank you so much to everyone for the love and support on the first instalment of this story. I really wasn't expecting any sort of reception, so all and any feedback is greatly appreciated. There will be more parts to this ever-twisting story, so keep your eyes peeled! Sending all the love X

Warnings: Mild Taunting/Teasing // Mild Fear (nothing descriptive)

Use of She/Her/Lady - Female Pronouns

Part 1

Dark corridors paved the way towards what she could only assume were her new living quarters. Aurelia was cornered by four guards; two front and behind. There was no use in trying to make a run, she decided to accept her fate and trust that the gods would keep her safe and right. The corridors were smoothly paved, the largest tiles she had ever seen in her life. Lined with only the best forms of lighting available in the lands at the time, she could see the corridor stretch and bend for what seemed like miles. Gods, she felt like she had walked to the end of Rome and back already. The guards came to an abrupt stop, which caused Aurelia to walk right into the back of them. She apologised profusely to which she received, “Ma’am please accept my apology for stopping so abruptly. I will ensure it does not happen again.” Aurelia steps back in shock. What happened to these guards who were so ruthless, who now suddenly were so appeasing, and dare she think kind, courteous? Breaking her from her thoughts, the commander of the group announced “Lady Aurelia, your quarters.” He opened the heavy wooden door, and in she walked.

Space. Light. Beautiful scent. Grandeur. Aurelia couldn’t believe her eyes, her breath was genuinely taken away. A young lady stood to the far right side of the room, with a kind look upon her face. “Lady Aurelia, welcome to your chambers. You will find your dressing room to the left, your living quarters to this door on your right, bedchamber right down this hallway,” pointing to her left, “and your bathroom shortly after.” Aurelia can only nod, the young lady notices her hesitance and continues, “My name is Alba. I am to be your servant. Anything you desire my lady, I will try my best to fetch for you. There is another, Camilla, however she is engaged with other palace matters. You will meet her shortly.” Aurelia stepped further into the room to acknowledge the grandeur of the hall. The curtains fell from the ceilings, which seemed to stand at about 20ft tall. The floors, appeared to be marble and glistened in the sun. The smell, of sweet lavender filled the air. She closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath and thought of home. Ah, home. She thought of her mother and her father, and her two brothers. Worried for their wellbeing and worried for their concern of her. Again, her thoughts interrupted by Alba, “Lady Aurelia, may I recommend seeing to bathe and change into something else. Emperor Geta has requested your presence at this evening’s dinner gala in a bid to celebrate your triumphant news. No doubt he will wish to see you well.” Finally, she speaks, “Yes, that sounds lovely.”

The bath was decorated in gold embellishment, with rose petals littering the water. The water was milky with comforting salts and had a beautiful aroma. Aurelia had never known of such graces. Alba was going to assist her with disrobing; however, Aurelia asked her kindly if she could bathe on her own. Alba reluctantly agreed, stating that she wishes for Aurelia to not lift a finger, to which Aurelia laughs stating, “Alba, I appreciate your diligence however, where I am from, this washing ceremony is of great luxury and a privilege to do so myself. I thank you for your attentiveness.” Alba nods, “As you wish my lady. I am just outside should you need me.” Alba gently closes the door behind her, and Aurelia makes her way over to the huge mirror. She took in her appearance one last time, no doubt the Emperor had some grand plans for a great makeover for her to complete to be worthy to stand next to him. She picked at her plain tunic and looked into her own eyes. She was pretty. Her eyes, piercing blue could be mistaken for a bright summer’s day. Her hair a dusty brown verging on dark, dirty blonde. She certainly wasn’t skinny, the gods had blessed her with sufficient curving to her body to make her shapely. She just prayed that Geta didn’t regret his decision and saw something in her that she clearly didn’t. Dusting herself off, she disrobed and launched into the temperate bath, sighing in relief – what a treat for her heavy, weary bones.

Once she was ready, she made her way to the hall, where Alba met her to bring her to her dressing room. Upon entering, the entire room was filled wall to wall with every item of clothing a body could ever desire, every type of colour, shape, length. There was an entire section dedicated to accessories, as well as a section for footwear. Aurelia couldn’t believe her eyes. “Lady Aurelia, Empero-”, Alba begins but is interrupted by Aurelia, “Please just call me Aurelia.” Alba nods, “Aurelia, Emperor Geta has handpicked your clothing for the dinner this evening, including your accessories.” Alba runs to fetch the items. She hangs a beautiful baby pink robe, adorned with light gold embellishment with fine rope dangling from the waist and arm. She lays out a pair of gold sandals, as well as golden chain earrings, and a gold choker. Alba ushers Aurelia to come closer and begins to dress her assignment. Once all is on, she places her hand on Aurelia’s back to send her to the dressing chair, where she begins to work on her hair. She ties tiny braids on either side and brings them together to form a crown-esque look around her head. Alba applied face cream and a light blush to Aurelia’s soft cheeks, as well as concentrate perfume to all her pressure points. Aurelia admires herself in the mirror once Alba has finished her handiwork. She was taken-a-back. This was the first she had ever seen herself dressed to such a degree. Alba stepped back and sighed, “Aurelia, you really are quite beautiful.” Aurelia blushed in response, and told her “Alba, please. The work was all your doing. I should be thanking you for your kindest efforts!” Alba let out a mild chuckle, and ushers her to the door, “Let us leave and join your betrothed, we do not wish to keep him waiting.”

Aurelia entered the banqueting hall and sees everyone already seated. She stalled. Geta looks up, Aurelia could almost swear she saw a look of sheer surprise before his usual cloud of animosity overtook, he announced, “Ah, here she is… finally! Sit woman so we can begin our festivities.” She hurriedly made her way to the spare seat next to Geta. He appeared to stare her up and down before discreetly whispering, “Everything to your taste so far?” Aurelia, mouth dry, replied “Yes, my Emperor, everything and more.” In a half snuff, he replied “And the dress? Gold appears to be your calling card.” Looking down she stated, “Yes, Sire it is everything I could have wished for. Gods have not seen more beautiful clothing. Thank you.” Geta replied with a short “hm” before clinking his glass;

“People, dear Brother, Mater. I present to you all, my soon to be wife, Aurelia. We must plan efficiently as we are to be betrothed this day week. Feast in celebration, praise Rome!”

Everyone lifted their glasses in cheers, including Aurelia, who attempted to clink with Geta. Their hands brushed and she wore she felt some sort of electricity pulsing through her. She caught sight of Geta’s features and saw he must have felt something also. With a clear of his throat, he announces, “Begin!”. He sits promptly in his chair, while servants begin to start their rounds of ensuring wine glasses were flowing and plates full. In all of the rush, Aurelia did not notice who sat to her right was none other than Caracalla. She felt a tap on her shoulder when she was met by his brightly painted face. When she turned to face him, she could feel Geta’s stare into her shoulder blades. “So then Aurelia, I take it you have accustomed yourself to the delights the palace has to offer.” She began to speak, but was cut off by Caracalla again, “I trust my brother has told you of his plans with you.”

“Excuse me?”

“The plans? Geta! Gods, please keep your dog up to date. Well, you see, we share everything. We share a mother, kindly. We share a home, spectacular. We even share our title, gracious. So, what’s one more to add but to share a lover? You.”

Aurelia could have fainted on the spot. Geta was crass and he was cutting, but Caracalla was on another level.

“I-I-I don’t understand?”

“Okay, allow me to spell it out for you. My brother will have you say 4 nights, and I 3? Oh it truly will be-”

“Caracalla, enough of your taunting and teasing. Aurelia, take no heed. He is merely trying to make a fool of you”

“Brother! Allow me to play with your new toy. It is exhausting being so boring all the time, must we rid ourselves of any fun?!”

Aurelia feels like a child caught in crossfire. Relieved in a sense that Caracalla was joking, but feeling increasingly uneasy as she can feel Geta becoming annoyed.

“Caracalla, enough.”

“Brother, here you are ripping ourselves of our pleasures.” Caracalla rises from his chair to meet his brother’s gaze. “We could see to make this one really squirm. She’s so pathetic, she would just take it all and say nothing. We could really go to to-”

“ENOUGH! Brother, apologise to her immediately.” Geta was enraged. The hall came to silence, “NOW CARACALLA!” Veins popped out of the Emperor’s neck, with his face flushing a fiery red.

Caracalla made his way back to his seat, sniggering. The hall refilling with sound once more.

 “Who would have known love could make you go so limp, brother.” He teased under his breath.

Geta’s gaze never lifted from Caracalla’s head, waiting for him to apologise. Leaning in, Caracalla began “Forgive me Aurelia, I was such a bad boy. I didn’t mean any of it.” clearly telling that his apology was as insincere as they come.

Aurelia lifted her head, and smiled ignoring the sarcasm of it all, “All is well Emperor Caracalla, thank you for your kindness.”

Geta shifted to sit in his seat, while Aurelia turned and mouthed a small “Thank you” to him. He curtly nodded his head and returned to his wine glass. Caracalla leaned over to Aurelia, “Just because he stopped me this time, doesn’t mean I won’t try again.” Aurelia stiffened. There really was something so very, very sinister about Caracalla. What had she ever done to deserve this torment? She returned to drinking her wine as per her betrothed and took in the scenes before her, wishing the evening would end so she could retire to her chambers.

“Would you like introductions?” Geta asked, not daring look at her, but startling Aurelia. “Please?” She asked, wanting to know more about her new life.

“Lady on the end? That’s Lucilla. Her brother was the great Commodus. He was brutally slain in the Colosseum. A great Emperor of his time. She may do well to speak with you. Pass on some knowledge.” Aurelia nods.

“Gentleman next to her? That’s Marcus Acacius. Great commander and army chief of Rome. A warrior on the battlefield. Continually makes triumphant wins for our empire. A true blood of Roman ethos. Also, Lucilla’s lover – if you could call it that.”

With a touch of confidence, Aurelia said, “I like his baldric.” Geta looks at her intently, “Yes, it is rather nice, isn’t it?”

“Next to him, is Senator Gracchus. One of the leads of the Senate – in other words, a right pain in my backside.” Aurelia lets a giggle escape, but quickly sobers up. “My Emperor, forgive me, I apologise I did not intend to laugh.” Geta just smirks down at her and continues on with his explanations.

Whilst she couldn’t pinpoint, she felt comfort in Geta’s explanations. His dulcet tones when he spoke seemed to calm her nerves ever so slightly. She didn’t want to admit it, but she felt in her bones that potentially this may not have been the worst outcome for her life.

However, what was to lie ahead, was anyone’s guess…

[millieisawriter]

Workin' girl

arthur morgan x reader

summary: the one where arthur pulls a john — falling in love with a working girl. it was never supposed to happen, yet it did, and now arthur is left with two choices. either he, again, walks away from a woman that loves him, or tries to fight for her.

wc: 2k

all pics taken from pinterest

♡this wasn't requested, but if you wish to request something you're more than welcome♡

a/n: i see this happening in blackwater in case i decide to write a 2nd part, but when i started writing i imagined saint denis, didn't see any town/city names mentioned as i was proof-reading, lmk if you see something i missed <3

Life has never treated you kindly so eventually, as soon as you could leave your family home, you turned to the oldest profession in the world. Even if that kind of life was better, it still wasn't ideal, but it was the best you could do. Eventually, you started to like it because even with its issues and dark sides it wasn't that terrible. Some would even dare saying it was 'easy money', which you actually knew wasn't true.

Luckily for you, you ended up in one of the more expensive brothels. Maybe it was the 'splendor' of the place, the luxorious interior, that made you feel somewhat safe. Safer than you would feel in some cheap saloon where the patrons consisted of drifters with a questionable past.

You had your regular patrons, ones that you got along with well — one of the reasons why they were your regulars. These were the men that could stay a bit longer after the service itself was done without making it awkward. Ones that you could have a conversation with, ones that saw you as another human being, not just an item to relieve their frustration.

It was a normal evening, the building was neither empty nor full. You didn't have that much on your hands, you and a fellow working girl were entertaining a group of men. They sat by a table, a drink in one hand, a cigar in the other, and two of these men had a companion in their lap — you and your friend. Ending the evening in the bedroom wasn't certain, for now you were just trying to make them spend as much money as possible on the drinks.

Then, Arthur walked in. One of your regulars, one you were particularly fond of. The chemistry between the two of you was so strong sometimes you wanted to tell him he didn't have to pay.

His eyes immediately found you, and he would be lying if he said he didn't feel jealous seeing you in the man's lap. But you, as if on command, turned to look at Arthur and as you noticed your favorite patron, you excused yourself from the table.

"Mister Callahan," you beamed, approaching the man, "so good to see you again."

He tipped his hat to you, his lips curling into a soft smile. "Evenin' darlin', thought I'd stop by again. You been keepin' busy?"

The way he always called you darling, every time, made you feel so warm and bubbly. Of course, he wasn't the first man to do that, but when it came from him, it felt almost sincere.

"Busy enough," you replied, glancing over your shoulder at the table of men you just left, "but I'll always make time for you, mister."

"Well, reckon I'll take you up on that. How bout we find a quiet spot?"

"Your wish is my command." Giggling, you took Arthur by the hand to lead him upstairs where your room was. Even if he already knew the way well enough.

Your room was just like any other room in that brothel — furnished with the most luxorious-looking furniture, tastefully decorated with expensive ornaments, every little detail taken care of.

As the door to your room clicked shut behind you, the world outside seemed to fade miles away. In that moment right there it were just the two of us, bathed in the dim light by the fireplace's glow.

Arthur's hat found its usual place on the small table by the door and he turned to face you, "I can never stay away for too long." Shortly, his hands landed on your waist, resting on the corset of your dress.

"Then maybe you should visit more often..." You suggested, your own hands finding their way to the man's shoulders.

"I'm afraid it ain't a good idea, darlin'. I always look forward to seein' you. But sayin' goodbye..."

"I get what you mean," you chuckled, "so what's it gonna be today? Just the regular service, or you want something extra? It'll be on the house."

Every time Arthur visited you, it was both blissfull and painful for him. You were so good at what you were doing it felt like a religious experience, but the attachment he held for you left a hole in his heart each time he had to say goodbye.

He had always wished he could just ask you to leave this life, and join the gang, but which woman would agree for this? Your current life, your current job, as oppressing as it was, couldn't be worse than living on the run. In Arthur's eyes at least.

In the brothel you had your own room, a wardrobe with many dresses. You had a somehow stable income, it didn't seem as if money were any issue to you. All this, compared to what you could have in the camp, was much worse. And you didn't even know his real last name, there was no reason for you to leave this life you had for a criminal.

Why did Arthur even fall for a working girl? The exact same thing happened to John, which Arthur would often make fun of him for. Maybe life just decided to pull a joke on Arthur now. But he just couldn't control himself, from the first time he saw you, you were different. With other women it didn't take long to notice they're just playing a role, but you... from the first time you even smiled at Arthur, he was drawn to how genuine it looked. And now, you had become not just a pretty face to entertain him, but someone he felt at ease with.

This time, as many times before, Arthur didn't hurry to get dressed and leave the room, return back to camp after getting what he wanted. Instead, he stayed under the covers in your bed, smoking a cigarette as you kept going on about something that happened a few days ago.

He didn't mind, he could let you yap his ears off, your voice was such a calming sound. It was almost hard to believe you weren't just a hallucination he made up. How could such an ethereal being just lay there, next to him, head propped propped on your palm as you lay on your stomach, talking about whatever nonsense? How could this happen to a man like Arthur Morgan?

"...so then," you paused to take the cigarette from Arthur, take one puff and hand it right back, "you'd think a man like him would have some sense, right? Well, no, he was so damn thick in the head, she just told the guard to throw him out!"

Arthur chuckled, exhaling a stream of smoke. "Bet he didn't see that comin'. I'm glad I ain't made it onto your list of thick-headed fools yet."

"Yet!" You playfully reminded him. "You seem to have more sense than others, although I can't say I'm some weak little girl. I don't even need a guard, but the madam insists it's for safety."

A thought lingered in the back of Arthur's mind. It was weird, in a sense, to know there's a guard right outside your door whenever you had a man up there. Even right then.

"I don't doubt you could handle yourself, darlin'," Arthur smirked, taking one last drag from his cigarette, "but it don't hurt havin' someone lookin' out for you."

You rolled your eyes, a smile tugging at your lips. "Guess you're right, mister."

Arthur stubbed out the ciragette into the ashtray that stood on the bedside table, knowing what it meant. His time was up, he extended the time of his visit as long as he could. Now that his usual cigarette was finished, it was the time for him to go.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed to stand up. You watched as he reached for his clothes that had been thrown onto the floor, and for the first time a single tear started to burn the corner of your eye.

With his jeans already on, and his shirt for now unbuttoned, he reached to the pocket, retrieving the usual payment. You wiped the tear away as it escaped your eye. It was always the same routine, but it didn't make it any easier to watch him go.

"Here it is." He said almost robotically, placing the money next to the ashtray, throwing in a little tip.

You looked at the money with sadness in your gaze, then your eyes shifted to look at the man. "You know, you shouldn't have to pay, because you don't make it feel like work."

There they were, the words Arthur was so afraid to hear. Him having a more romantic kind of attachment to you was one thing. However, knowing that you reciprocated the feeling, made it more difficult.

"Good," he nodded, "cause you don't make me feel like the bastard I am," as he buttoned up his shirt.

You sat up on the bed, pulling the sheets harder around you, since you were still naked. "Arthur..." You sighed, the rest of the sentence dying in your throat.

The fact that for the first time you had used his actual name instead of calling him mister as always, made it only more difficult.

"No, darlin', don't."

"You know you don't have to leave, right?"

Oh, he had to leave. If he overstayed his welcome too much, the guard at your door would become highly suspicious. And that would only cause issues for you.

"I have to, don't wanna make it harder." Arthur replied.

"Harder for who? I know a man's nature well enough, and I can tell there's something more in the— the way you fuck me, Arthur."

He thought maybe playing dumb would help him. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that if you were to ask me to... to abandon this life for you... I would."

Arthur gulped. It was just what he wished for, but what he couldn't allow to happen. "I've got nothin' to give you. I live on the run, it ain't somethin' you wanna be a part of, trust me."

"You think I'd rather keep fucking strangers to survive, than travel the world with a man I lo—"

"You don't." Arthur interrupted you. "You don't know what you're talkin' bout." Love was a word of huge weight, there was no way it was what you felt for him.

You insisted. "I know what I feel, and I know what you feel, I see it in your eyes, I feel it when you're in my bed, Arthur. I wanna leave this life for you."

"It ain't gonna be no escape, though, just another kind of trap. You deserve better than fuckin' strangers to get by, but you also deserve better than runnin' and not knowin' which day will be your last."

"I don't want better!" At that point you didn't care if the guard outside will hear. "I want you, Arthur!"

"I want you too, darlin'," he admitted, his voice breaking slightly, "but... you're safer here. I can't sentence you to a life of an eternal wanderin'."

His words had a final tone, but as well as you could read his eyes, you could tell he regrets saying what he had just said. You could have had a roof over your head, and locks in your door, but it wasn't safety. It was survival.

You stepped closer, reaching out to grab Arthur's hand. You knew he didn't want to leave, you were sure he wants you just like you wanted him. "Arthur..."

His heart ached when he saw the way your beautiful eyes looked at him, but still he decided to kiss you. It only made it worse, making another cut in Arthur's already damaged heart.

"I gotta go." He stated, freeing his hand from yours.

"No." You refused as if you had any say in that matter. You could demand he takes you with him now, wherever he's headed, but what would it do?

"I can't make promises," he continued, putting his boots and jacket on, then his hat, "but I'll figure somethin' out."

You stayed silent, watching him leave the room, not knowing if he's going to keep his word. All you had now was the money, that you didn't even want from him, and the promise that could have been empty.

[pleasestayawayidonotlikeyou]

@itsastridsart I'm so so so sorry this took so long to write and yet it's still going to be split into parts, but I've got a plot for this story!

Featuring: Passive/Nightmare sans x reader

Masterlist

Once in a Nightmare.

|First Chapter|Next Chapter|

You met Nightmare before everything. When he was still the pure soul of the past. Your AU had been destroyed by it's own creator, as they thought it was "too cringe", you didn't know how you managed to escape, but your wings came in handy, being an angel-demon hybrid has it's vantages.

Having nothing else to do, you decided to travel through the multiverse, passing from universe to universe without really caring about the people there, it's not like they could replace the missing feeling of your dimension.

And then you discovered dreamtale.

There was something off with it, you felt it the first time you visited. And the second. And the third. That skeleton that was always next to that tree.. he looked so.. familiar.. as if you had known him before..

You just snug it off and appeared right next to him, ready to start a talk and never return!

But your grin faded away when you saw his beat up, having injuries all over his bones and skull, his face facing you in terror as you touched his cheek.

"What... Happened to you..?"

Silence.

"...I can't leave you like this."

You came prepared for situations like this, for fell universes people, for yourself, it didn't matter for who it was. What mattered was that you were already wrapping his injuries up, disinfecting and cleaning them.

It didn't take much time for him to warm up to you, the only person who didn't have a burning hate for him, and it didn't take long for him to gain feelings.

.

He adored you, everything, the way you treated him, your sweet and caring touch as you treated his injuries, it hurt so bad, but he loved the way you'd be with him, making sure he's okay...

And when you accepted his feelings after he confessed? Oh dear he was head over heels, he was almost crying of happiness.

"..(_____)?"

"Yes?"

"Can you... Promise me something..?"

"Of course Nightmare!"

"Please.. never ever leave me alone.. please promise me we'll be together.. forever.."

"I promise Nightmare, I promise."

He held your hand, a ring on his finger and a ring in yours, you both are going to be married soon...

He made you promise. Promise never to leave him.

Until the accident happened.

One day you came back and everything was... Destroyed. Dream was stone, everyone was dead. And the worse, a gloomy skeleton standing in the middle, sitting at the now cut tree. You recognized him. The moon ring on his finger gave it all away. It was Nightmare. The man who you once loved, even with a different visual, you knew who he was. You didn't think twice and fled, you couldn't just believe it... This was just a bad dream... Right?

You kept the ring on your finger, it was the only memory that remained of him.. even after decades, centuries, you refused any man's advance, like you were waiting for a certain someone..

Rumours spread around the multiverse, and quickly found a skeleton's attention..

.

"Let me go!"

You screamed as your body was carried by three skeletons who had just broken into your house and kidnapped you, restraining your movements with ropes tied around your wrists, wings and legs.

"Heh, afraid we can't do that, boss told us to bring ya to him"

"Who?"

No response.

The skeleton with black eyes only chuckled and continued walking, you saw a gloomy gigantic castle in the distance.. you feel like the energy of this place is familiar..

It didn't take long for you to be inside, fancy cyan decor filled the halls, the skeleton, whose name you learned to be Killer in the way here, led you to a dinning room and sat you on one of the chairs, telling you to wait for his "boss".

Some paintings of someone who looked oddly similar to you with a black skeleton decorated the walls as a cyan-purplish light coming from a gold chandelier illuminated the room, you looked at the elongated dark wood table that had an irregular oval pattern in front of you and then at the dark cyan chairs with small golden details surrounding it.

You suddenly felt a tentacle wrap around your eye line, you tried to get it off, yet the ropes tied around your body didn't help. But as soon as it came it left, facing you with a plate of food placed on the table and the same skeleton of the paintings sited right in the chair in front of you.

"My my, look what we have here.."

The sound of his rough and deep voice filled your ears, his eye looking into the depths of your soul as a smirk formed in his face.

"Missed me, (_____)?"

".. W-who on earth are you.."

His expression shifted to an offended one, one of his hands touching his chest.

"Don't even remember your own fiance my dear?"

He exaggerated, showing the moon ring in his bony finger making you freeze for a second.

"I don't know where you found that ring, by my fiance is long dead."

"Oh no no no darling, is it too difficult for you to understand?" He pauses. "I'm your fiance, my dear."

He laughs as a tentacle untied the rope of your wrists and grabs your hand, showing you the sun ring on your own finger.

"My sunshine... I know you remember the promise you made. And I know you still love who I was... So.. why not love the new me huh?"

[luvismenu]

Something Stupid — Kim Taehyung One-Shot

navi ,, m.list ,,

warnings: ANGST. unspoken love, one-sided love, co-workers, Taehyung's POV, tae doesn't speak much, he's just a little sad guy. lowercase intended.

wc: 3.6k

pairing (well not really): quiet taehyung x fem!reader

a/n: apology one-shot for discontinuing the art of love 😞 (worst kind of apology ik but idc huhu suffer w me <3) i teared up writing this. don't let this flop i swear 🫵🏼

November 21

a year ago.

it was the day i met you.

it was your first day at work. you were glowing, so full of excitement, and so happy to be starting your dream job. i could tell from the way your eyes lit up that you were ready for this, ready for everything.

i remember how i welcomed you, and you looked at me, and you smiled.

“thank you! i’m ___, nice to meet you.”

there was something in the way you smiled that made my heart skip. it was simple, but it made me freeze for a moment. i couldn’t help but stutter.

“i-i… i’m kim taehyung, nice to meet you too…”

you nodded, still wearing that bright smile, and then turned to greet the others. and i just stood there, watching you.

i didn’t realize it at the time, but i couldn’t stop stealing glances at you. the way you came in every morning, the way you greeted everyone with a bright “good morning!” and how you always wished everyone to have a great day, no matter what.

even though we barely talked, even though you never really spoke to me much, it still made my day. just seeing you, hearing your voice, feeling the warmth you radiated. it was genuine, simple, but it made everything feel a little better, a little easier to bear.

November 28

you baked cookies, and handed out small bags, each tied with a neat bow. you didn’t miss anyone in the office, not even me. you made sure to thank everyone for making you feel so welcome.

everyone was happy to receive them, and so was i. but i overheard a few people talking behind your back, saying you were trying too hard, that it was all a little much.

but when i looked at you, all i could see was that you just wanted to fit in, wanted to make everyone around you feel comfortable. i saw it in the way your eyes shined, even though they were tired, like you were trying to prove something.

your dark circles told me you probably stayed up all night baking those cookies. i wanted to tell you how much i appreciated it, how i felt like you didn’t need to push yourself so hard. you were perfect just the way you were.

“i hope you like them, mr. kim! let me know if you prefer chocolate cookies, i have those too!”

but i couldn’t bring myself to say it.

“these are fine…”

December 10

the office holiday party was approaching, and the excitement was tangible. decorations were put up, and the air smelled sweet. everyone was talking about their plans, about what they were wearing, about who was bringing what dish.

and there you were, always the one to make sure everything was perfect, organizing the little details, ensuring no one felt left out. you were always so kind, always so giving.

i watched you from across the room, helping the others with the setup, your smile lighting up the entire space. you seemed so at ease, so comfortable in your role, but i could still see the exhaustion hidden behind your cheerful demeanor. the way your shoulders dropped slightly when you thought no one was looking, the way your eyes would gloss over for a second before you’d catch yourself and smile again.

i wanted to say something to you, tell you how much i admired your strength, how much i wished you’d let yourself rest, how i’d do anything to make things easier for you.

but i never did.

instead, i just kept watching, my words trapped in my chest, my heart pounding every time you passed by, hoping maybe, just maybe, you’d catch a glimpse of the way i looked at you.

"mr.kim, can you pass me the tape?"

“yes,”

December 25

i was walking to a store. christmas had never been anything special for me, but today felt different. i wanted to get you something, something to show you that you matter to me. that you’re someone special.

i found a little keychain; red flowers. when i first saw it, it reminded me of you. so bright and beautiful. i thought, “maybe you’d like this.”

as i walked out of the store, the cold air hit me. it was christmas, so the streets were packed with people rushing around. but i wasn’t in any hurry. i just wanted to buy you something, to let you know how much i appreciated everything about you.

then, i saw you.

a figure i recognized, standing by the candy store, looking at candy canes. the world seemed to slow as i watched you. you were wearing a soft, fluffy coat, a muffler wrapped around your head, your hair dusted with snow, your cheeks flushed from the cold. you were smiling at the candy canes like they were the most magical thing in the world.

i stopped, not sure if i should approach. i had the keychain in my hand, clutching it tight. my heart raced at the thought of finally giving you something, of finally telling you how much you mean to me.

i thought, this was it.

but then, i saw him.

someone else, someone taller, someone who looked like he belonged with you. he walked up to you, took your hand, and smiled at you. your eyes lit up when you saw him.

i froze.

my stomach twisted when he leaned down and kissed you. i watched you smile against his lips, and i could see the happiness in your eyes.

i stood there, completely still.

the moment i’d imagined for so long, the one where i’d finally be brave enough to talk to you, to give you the gift and the words that had been stuck inside me. but it wasn’t for me.

it was for him.

i turned away, my grip loosening around the keychain. i don’t know why i thought you’d feel the same way. i shouldn’t have been surprised, but it hurt. it hurt more than i could have ever expected.

as i walked, i bumped into someone. the sudden jolt made the keychain slip from my hand, and it fell to the ground with a soft clink.

in a panic, i reached out, my hand stretching toward the tiny flowers that had somehow come to mean so much to me. but the crowd was relentless, people moving quickly, oblivious to anything but getting to their next destination.

someone stepped on it.

then another.

and another.

the red flowers, so beautiful just moments ago, was crushed underfoot. pieces of it scattered across the pavement, the petals breaking apart with each step

i stood there, helpless, my fingers trembling as i watched it all happen. i wanted to scream, to shout, to stop the world from moving so fast. but all i could do was watch the remnants of the flower.

i should’ve known.

you were too perfect.

too perfect for someone like me.

January 23

"mr. kim?"

i looked up, surprised to hear my name. it was you, standing there with a soft smile on your face.

“yes, ms. ___?”

you smiled again, this time a little warmer.

"you can call me ___," you said gently, as if you were giving me permission to speak to you like a normal person.

i nodded, too nervous to say anything else. i wanted to tell you that you didn’t have to call me mr. kim, that taehyung was fine, but the words never left my lips. they got stuck somewhere in my chest.

“me and my friends are going out for lunch, and i wanted to invite you too,” you said, still smiling.

"m-me?" my voice caught, the surprise clear in my tone. i couldn’t understand why you’d want me to join you. i barely ever spoke to you outside of work, and i could never bring myself to be as casual as everyone else.

“you always work alone, well i am sure you prefer it that way..” you chuckled. “i don’t know, i just thought you might enjoy spending time with us.” you looked at me with those hopeful eyes, as if you were waiting for me to say yes. as if you genuinely wanted me there.

it felt like the moment when i first met you all over again. everything became still. my heart raced in my chest, and i could feel the weight of your gaze on me.

i could’ve said no.

i could’ve come up with some excuse.

but i didn’t.

"that would be nice," i managed to say, the words barely above a whisper, but enough for you to hear.

you smiled again, and for a brief moment, it felt like the world was just you and me.

February 12

"you know, i like your quietness, mr. kim."

we were walking together, you had invited me to lunch, and you mentioned you had something you wanted to ask me.

"oh..." was all i could manage to say.

you glanced at me, your eyes catching mine for a moment before you looked away, your smile barely noticeable. i felt a little flushed, a little nervous under your gaze. i quickly looked forward, trying to focus on anything else.

you chuckled softly, your voice breaking the silence. "you remind me a lot of my boyfriend," you said, the words casual, like they didn’t carry the weight they did in my mind.

"oh..." i stammered. so it was your boyfriend.

"do you like him?" i asked without thinking. it was a stupid question.

you laughed, a soft, light sound that seemed to come from somewhere genuine. "i wouldn’t be dating him if i didn’t."

my heart sank just a little.

of course, you liked him. why would i even ask? but i couldn’t take it back.

when we finally reached the restaurant, you led us to a quiet corner, and i sat across from you, feeling a strange mixture of comfort and tension. you looked at me, as if expecting something.

"i thought you’d prefer it like this," you said.

and i did. it was peaceful, calm. just like you.

"so!! the thing i wanted to ask you about," you started, leaning in slightly, your voice lowering in a way that made me pay attention to every word. "it’s valentine’s day soon, and i really want to get something cute for my boyfriend."

"oh..." i said again, my voice barely above a whisper.

"don’t take me wrong, but like i said, you remind me of him. you’re a lot like him. quiet, calm. so maybe you could help?" you leaned in a little, and i could feel my face getting warmer.

it felt strange. unsettling. like a weight pressing against my chest.

"i don't know, ms. ___—"

"you can call me by my name," you reminded me, your voice soft. it made me feel even more unsure of myself.

"___, i think you’re asking the wrong person... i-i’m not good with stuff like... valentine’s day," i stammered, my gaze shifting away from you. i couldn’t meet your eyes. the words felt wrong, awkward.

you studied me for a moment, then leaned back in your chair. "that’s okay, mr. kim," you said, and there was something in your voice that made me feel even worse.

what if you were just trying to make small talk? what if i had ruined it? what if you were just being kind, as always, and i made it so... uncomfortable?

"b-but you like to bake, right?" i suddenly said, not really thinking. "so... that’s a good present, i guess. i mean, i would love it. i mean, they were delicious! so.." i quickly added, flushing slightly at how ridiculous it sounded.

your smile returned, this time wider. "that sounds nice!! and i am glad you liked them" you chuckled, and for some reason, the sound of it made me smile too.

just then, your phone rang. you excused yourself, your voice light as you answered the call.

"oh, excuse me," you said, and i nodded in response, trying not to listen too closely.

"hey, honey... oh, i’m just with a colleague right now.” you chuckled. “i miss you too, joon"

it must’ve been him.

i didn’t mind.

i couldn’t. i just sat there, watching you, wishing this moment could last a little longer, even if it meant nothing more than a colleague relationship. even if it was just fleeting moments like these.

and as you spoke softly to him, my smile faded slightly, but the warmth remained.

February 14

valentine's day.

i hated this day.

but that morning, i couldn’t help but notice you. smiling to your coworkers, your friends, as you handed them small boxes of what i guessed were chocolates, all tied with a bright yellow bow.

even though you weren’t smiling at me, just watching you made me feel warm. it softened the bitterness of the day, just a little.

by afternoon, i was at my desk, buried in work as usual. i didn't see you approach, but i felt the air shift when you stood infront me.

“mr. kim?” yourvoice was gentle, like you always were.

i looked up, startled, and you placed a small box with a purple bow on it in front of me.

“happy valentine’s day,” you said, your smile soft but genuine. and just like that, my heart skipped a beat.

you turned as if to leave, but i couldn’t let it end like that.

“___,” i called out, my voice catching in my throat. you stopped and looked back at me, waiting.

“you can call me taehyung,” i said, the words coming out almost too quietly.

you smiled again, that same warm, reassuring smile. "taehyung," you nodded, as if it were something important.

it was.

to me, it was.

June 13

it was the day you were transferring to a different city.

it was the last time i saw you.

you were a little emotional. there were tears in your eyes as you bid goodbye to your coworkers.

i didn’t expect you to talk to me. i stayed at my desk, silent, watching everythin

it was sad.

hell, it was heartbreaking.

then i saw you walking towardsme, and for a moment, i froze.

“taehyung, i—” you started, your voice soft, hesitant. you looked down, a little sad. “i wish i got to spend more time with you.”

that’s when everything around me shattered. again.

“i regret not becoming a good friend of yours,” you said, your voice wavering, “i… i tried.”

you looked up, your eyes glistening.

“you’ve always been so quiet, so reserved,” you said, letting out a nervous laugh. “i guess i never knew how to reach you. but i wish i had.”

i wanted to say something, anything. but the words got stuck in my throat, just like they always did.

“i hope… you’ll let someone in someday,” you continued, your voice growing softer. “you’re a good person, taehyung. i hope you know that.”

i felt my chest tighten, my heart aching with every word you spoke.

you turned around to leave, taking a few steps, and something inside me broke.

i love you.

you froze for a moment, then turned back to face me, confusion etched across your features. “did you say something?” you asked, your voice tentative, uncertain.

i said it. but it was all in my head.

i hesitated, my chest tightening. “you are a good friend, ___.”

your eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, we both just stared at each other. your gaze held something i couldn’t quite place.

was it surprise? sadness? relief?

“thank you, ___,” i added, trying to steady my voice.

your lips curved into a soft smile, one that reaches your eyes. the smile i love.

“thank you, taehyung,” you said softly.

you gave me a small nod, and then, with one last lingering glance, you turned to leave again.

i stood there, rooted in place, watching as you walked away, your figure growing smaller with every step you took.

i wanted to chase after you. to call out to you.

but i didn’t.

instead, i stayed silent, clutching the words i couldn’t say louder in my chest, where they would remain forever.

you disappeared around the corner, and with that, the last piece of you i had left slipped away.

and all i could do was whisper, too late for you to hear.

“i will miss you.”

November 21

today.

the day that started everything.

it’s strange how vividly i remember it, even after all this time. it feels like it was just yesterday when you walked into the office for the first time, bright eyed and full of energy, ready to take on the world.

i miss you.

a lot.

i don’t know where you are now. i don’t know what your days look like, or how you’re living your life. i don’t know if you’re happy, if you’re struggling, or if you ever think back to those days.

but i know one thing for sure. you’re strong.

no matter how tough things get, you always find a way to smile and keep moving forward, like nothing can hold you back. you don’t dwell on the past, don’t let it weigh you down. you just... keep going.

maybe that’s what i admired about you the most.

maybe that’s why it hurts so much now.

because you were always moving forward, and i was always staying behind.

i think about you every day. the way you smiled, the way your laugh lit up even the dullest corners of the office. i think about how you never seemed to falter, even when things were tough.

but i also remember the small things. the moments when you were quiet, staring out the window like your mind was somewhere else. the way your hands trembled slightly when you were overwhelmed but still tried to keep it together.

i wish i could’ve told you then how much you mattered. how much your presence alone changed everything for me.

but i never did.

and now it’s been so long, and i don’t even know if you remember me. if i was just another face in your story.

maybe i was.

but you were everything in mine.

“hey, taehyung, can you get these copies for me?” jimin’s voice broke through the quiet hum of the office.

“yeah, sure,” i said as he placed the stack on my desk.

he lingered for a moment, his teasing smile creeping onto his face. “you look happy today,” he said, raising a brow. “thinking about someone?”

i looked down, avoiding his gaze. “someone…”

he doesn’t miss a beat, his eyes catching something around my neck. “nice necklace you got there. what is it?”

i held the pendant gently, a faint smile tugging at my lips as i showed it to him.

“uh... a red piece?” he guessed, leaning in to get a better look.

“it’s a flower,” i muttered, my fingers brushing over the broken piece of petal.

he squinted, then tilted his head. “that looks like a piece of broken glass.”

“it is,” i whispered, my voice soft as i stared at it. “beautiful, isn’t it?”

jimin gave me a look, clearly confused, but he didn’t press further. “right, okay.. uh i’ll see you later,” he said, walking away with a shrug.

i closed my eyes, clutching the small, shattered piece in my hand.

even now, i couldn’t forget you.

your eyes.

your laugh.

your cookies.

your smile.

how could i ever forget you?

i would keep you in my heart, even if it hurt. forever.

i hope you’re happy.

i hope you’re smiling the way you always did, bright, warm, as if the world didn’t weigh on your shoulders the way it did on mine.

i hope whoever stands beside you now knows just how lucky they are. i hope they see you for everything you are. your kindness, your strength, the little quirks that make you... you.

and i’m glad

truly glad that..

that day...

i didn't go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like..

i love you.

📜 permanent taglist:

@lovieku @deluluisdasolulu @ddanasjk @onlyforyoukook @diamondjeon @nnybtitts08 @lil0u0 @butnotmontana @fr0ggieth1nk @minimoninini @whoa-jo @lola75111 @iswearimover5feetall @rispwr @genevieveeeee @kookoo-kachoo @junecat18 @iheartchanelle

@internetrando64 @jkvias @134340-kr @mar-lo-pap @fluttershypoo @kyuupii @https-mei @jungkookmyoneandonlybaby @beigerin @nikidream24 @winterbeartaehyungbestboy @jaykay-world @jmscaffeine @libra04

[hoover1st]

Cruel Intentions

Summary: The young magistrate, Astarion, has used his questionable morals to his advantage. Social climbing and building a reputation in Baldur's Gate. When the prize daughter of one of most influential noble families falls into legal trouble, he seizes his opportunity to get more than a payday out of you... Warnings: MDNI 18+, female!reader, magistrate Astarion, pre-spawn Astarion, smut, cunnilingus, oral [F], overstimulation, office setting, porn with plot, Astarion's intentions aren't pure Word Count: 3k AO3

He fishes into his suit jacket, pulling out a spit-shined pocket watch.  Astarion clicks it open, for what seems like the hundredth time today; stealing a glance at his perfectly manicured hand. He looks great. He always does, but especially today. He has to.

Yes, he was born into his nobility, but he’s worked hard for this opportunity. Social climbing and building a reputation for himself. Who doesn’t like a magistrate? Especially one who isn’t opposed to adjusting his opinions, for the right price.

Astarion smooths his front and tucks the pocket watch away, steeling himself as he looks upon the large ornate estate. He deserves this, he’s worked hard. If he plays this right, being in the good graces of one of the most influential families in Baldur's Gate will set him up for a long time. He’ll be an elite, maybe even move on from magistrate to something better and less taxing.

The ornate pathway is lined with sculptures and gorgeous greenery. Who knows how old some of the artwork is? He walks gracefully up the steps to the grand front door. With a deep breath, he knocks. 

After a moment, the door is answered by a poised elvish male, without missing a beat, the male nods and opens the door wider. 

“Right this way Mr. Ancunin.”

Astarion walks in tow, observing the inside of the estate. It’s gorgeous, this house has been in this family for longer than a human could even begin to comprehend. Astarion lets a polite smile grace his lips as he gazes at the various artwork and decorations, one day he will have something similar. The male brings him to an elaborate sitting room, gesturing towards one of the plush love seats. “I’ll let the master know you’ve arrived, help yourself to some refreshment” 

Astarion settles into the loveseat, pouring some water from the crystal decanter. He sits back, crossing a leg and sipping the water. After a moment, he hears the clicking of heels on marble floors. 

He straightens in his seat, seeing you in all your adorable, noble glory. A thought crosses his mind, you might be just what he needs. He stands up and crosses to you, and a charming smile stretches across his face. He bends at the waist and puts a hand on his chest.

“Astarion Ancunin, how may I be of service to you?”

You outstretch your hand, watching the handsome stranger bring it to his mouth for a feather-light kiss. Your gaze rakes across his attire. He looks nice, the elaborate suit, well-tailored and flattering, his hair perfect. Something about his gaze makes eye contact more difficult than usual. You nod slowly and glance away. 

“Hello, Mr. Ancunin. Thank you for taking the time to meet me here today”

His smile turns sly, sensing your discomfort. You both take a seat, across from one another. He relaxes back, his gaze wandering over your form, observing your rigid posture. 

He hums, “So tell me miss, why do you need the assistance of a magistrate like myself?”

He watches as you scrunch your face in thought, sighing. “It’s a bit embarrassing…” 

he cocks a brow, his grin only growing, “Don’t worry miss, I’ve heard it all~”. 

You purse your lips in thought, “Well you see, I was being courted by a nobleman, he became rather pushy, and after my rejection, we disagreed, resulting in… property damages. He has decided to sue, and I would like the case to be… dismissed”

Astarion nods thoughtfully, you’re so cute and embarrassed. He smirks as you finish. “Seems like you came to the right place, miss, give me the case details and I can make this go away. Can’t go having your family name involved in the courts, can we?” 

You smile softly at his agreement, nodding. “Yes, you understand. It’s a bad look. I’ll provide you with the details right away”

You provide Astarion with the information he needs and stand to say curt goodbyes. Albeit relieved, you can’t help but feel small as he gazes at you, his charming smile not meeting his eyes. The wolfish glint apparent. 

You’re thanking him when he speaks up again. “I’ll need you to sign some documents for me, would you mind coming by my office?”

He watches as your eyes widen at his words and he fights back his smirk, you furrow your brows before responding. “I suppose I can do that, how about tomorrow?”

Astarions grins, nodding. “Yes that would be perfect, I’ll see you tomorrow then, here’s the address”. 

With that, you lead him back to the foyer, feeling his gaze burning into you. You can’t help the way your breath shallows, his closeness quickening your heartbeat. He gives you one last charming smile and you watch him go. The devilishly handsome, and sorely smug magistrate walks with such grace and confidence. Each movement is fluid as he follows the stone path back to the road. Once he’s gone you go back inside and put a hand to your chest, something about Astarion made you feel like you’re on fire. You try to clear your head the rest of the day, attempting to put your racing mind to rest, at least until tomorrow.

Astarions mind is also reeling as he walks through the winding streets. His mind filled with thoughts of the beautiful noblewoman. Just working with your family will boost his social standing, but if he could secure the daughter to one of the most influential families, even for a little while, he’d be set. He can’t keep the wolfish grin off of his face as he plans for the meeting with you tomorrow. He knows he’s attractive, and seeing the way you reacted, he thinks if he plays this well, seducing you shouldn’t be too difficult.

You look nice as you step out of the carriage, and walk into the quaint office. Astarion is already standing, waiting for you. He doesn’t look as proper as yesterday, but somehow ‘handsome’ doesn’t seem to sum him up properly. 

You steel yourself as you follow him into his office, hearing the soft click as he shuts the door. You sit across from him, and he starts to lay out paperwork on his desk, explaining what you’re signing and why he needs it. You nod, trying desperately to focus on his legal jargon rather than the way his forearms flex, or the glint in his sharp eyes. Finally, he hands you a heavy fountain pen. As you start to sign where he instructed, he strikes. 

“Not interested in any of those noble boys huh? Surely they make some good offers for a lady like you?” You are still at his words, furrowing your brows as you busy yourself with the paperwork. You try to keep your voice steady and polite,

“I’m fortunate that my parents aren’t pressuring me for marriage, and that a political elopement isn’t necessary. I haven’t yet found the company of any of the males to be…” you trail off looking for a proper term, but he cuts you off

 “-Pleasurable?”

 You look up from the documents at his word choice. “Um, I suppose you could say that”

You watch as his grin grows and you hurriedly scribble at the papers. He watches you with unabashed amusement. This is going even better than how he practiced it. 

He hums, “That’s quite unfortunate darling. You’d think a proper male would know how to please a pretty girl like yourself”

You glance back at him offering an awkward smile at his compliment, and you finish signing the paperwork. He grins and stands from his chair, leaning over the desk and examining the documents, his movements lazy. As he scans the papers, he hums to himself, his tone careless, “You probably haven’t been properly pleased by any of those shallow noble boys have you doll?”

His words take you off guard, and you swallow, your breathing swallowing at the implications in his words. Your thoughts are racing, yet you’re struggling to come up with a clever response, really any response.

Astarion’s wolfish grin widens at your gaping mouth and wide eyes. He slowly sets the papers down and moves around the desk. Astarion’s movements are slow and predatory, he leans back against the front of the desk, looking down at you. 

His voice a purr, “So it’s true? You poor doll. If you’d be interested, I might know a way to solve such an issue”.

You stare up at him, suddenly feeling like the office is growing smaller around you. You feel your heartbeat pounding in your ears. Is he saying what you think he is? After a beat of gaping up at him with those gorgeous wide eyes, you reply, your voice concerningly hoarse and quiet. “What exactly do you mean Astarion?”

Astarion fights against the amusement in his expression, responding coyly “I can help you, darling, these services are different, free of charge. I’m not like those other boring noble boys, give me a chance, and I’ll show you how pleasurable a male presence can be”

He moves in closer, pushing off the desk so that he’s now trapping you into the wooden chair. Leaning in, his face is so close, his eyes narrowed and his smirk widens. 

As you meet his intense gaze, you can’t help the bob in your throat. After a moment of your utter speechlessness he responds, his voice softer. “Aw doll, I didn’t mean to overstep, I was just offering”

He starts to pull away, and something clicks in you as you finally find your voice “Wait no… you didn’t overstep..”

At your protests, he stops and crouches down in front of your chair so he’s now looking up at you. Those gorgeous eyes of his raking across your body before settling back onto your face. “No? Would you like me to help you, darling?”

Your racing mind clouds, seeing him crouched down before you, and without thinking, you’re nodding. At this, he smirks and takes your hands in his, standing back up, and pulling you with him. “I wouldn’t dream of touching a lady without permission. Say it, that you’d like my assistance.”

Your eyes widen as you look up at him, your hands feeling clammy in his, with a gulp you respond quietly. “Okay… please help me Astarion”

At your confirmation he moves his hands up your arms, then slowly down your back until they rest on your waist, his touch leaving a trail of fire in their wake. He gently spins you, walking you backward until you’re leaning against the desk.

His head goes down to your neck, his breath hot, sending shivers down your spine. After a tantalizing moment, he closes the space and lightly kisses your neck, his hands moving down to your thighs, gently picking you up and setting you atop the wooden desk. Astarion smiles as he feels you react to his ministrations.

This is going exactly how he wanted it to. It was so easy, you’re right where he wants you, all he has to do now is make sure he can deliver on his promises of pleasure, and he’ll have you, a valuable ace, right in his back pocket. 

His hands wander, growing more intense, you don’t know what to do with yourself, your hands supporting you on the desk, your breathing shallower, your senses zoned into his fiery touch. 

He starts to move upward, but decides against it; kissing you would be cruel. So he moves down, peppering your neck and collarbone, his hands gripping your hips and thighs.

As he moves downward, murmuring breathy praise into your skin, his hands work to hike your gown upwards. Pushing the heavy fabric until your soft legs are revealed to him. He looks back up at you in confirmation, then grabs your hips, pulling you to the edge of the desk, and forcing you onto your elbows. 

Astarion takes a step back, his gaze eating you alive, he has to admit, this isn’t an undesirable moment for him either. You’re gorgeous, even with the white undershorts still concealing you. He feels his hunger grow as he kneels between your legs, spreading them gently.

He looks up at you with a smirk, all it takes is the slow nod of your head, with those lidded eyes, and his fingers are lacing with the band of your undergarments. 

His pace is painfully slow, but he finally rids you of them, the groan he lets out isn’t an act. The sight of you bare to him… he stares for a moment, feeling the restriction in his slacks. He kisses up your legs, moving them to rest on his shoulders. His hands wrapped around your thighs as he pulled you closer, his breath fanning against your core.

He closes his eyes in bliss as he breathes you in. After peppering a couple more kisses around your cunt, he moves in closer,  flattening his tongue against your core, licking up to your throbbing bud. You shudder and your thighs tighten instinctively around his head, pulling him closer. Your head falls back, letting out a breathy whine at the contact.

You taste divine, like nothing else he’s ever tasted, and he can’t help the low groan that rips from his throat.

He intended to be slow and tantalizing, hearing you beg for him would grow his ego like logs on a fire, but it doesn’t take long before he gets lost in the sensation of you and it feels like he could be the one begging.

He practically drowns himself in you, drinking you like his favorite wine, feeling intoxicated by the smell and taste.

The room is filled with the breathy whines and groans of the two of you, a tension-fueled duet.

Astarion rubs his legs together as he eats, desperate for any form of friction. His fingers dig into your thighs as they squeeze his head. 

Your senses are in overdrive, your hands clench into tight fists, your heels digging into his back. Feeling his groans vibrate against you, feeling the desperation of his mouth against you, it’s all too much. You can feel that cord deep in you tighten, about to snap.

He doesn’t let up, his movements never slowing. His sharp nose pressing into you. He’s relentless in his assault on you. Astarion loses himself in you. He’s forgotten the plot. His only focus now is on the pleasure he’s deriving. Stealing glances up at your panting, flushed face. The way your chest heaves and legs shake, your whines more beautiful than anything he’s ever heard.

Your reactions only spur him on. He doesn’t care about anything outside of your collective pleasure. He’s fervent, not even caring to hold in his groans.

You’re on the brink, teetering on that edge, at any moment you’re about the snap.

Astarion senses you growing closer, and he can’t take it anymore, moving a hand away from your thigh to palm himself through his pants. 

Astarion is mumbling incoherent praises against you, so lost is the high of you. You feel yourself about to snap and with one last push from Astarion, you feel yourself reeling off the edge.

Astarion laps like a madman, helping you ride out your high. The noises and reactions you’re making do him in, and with a low groaning grunt he spills, his face still buried in between your legs.

You’re reeling as both come down from your highs, your chests still heaving. Astarion slowly stands up, admiring his work. He looks like a fallen angel, his perfect white hair is sweaty and stuck to his forehead. His face is covered in your slick as he grins breathlessly down at you. You feel like you would fall over if it weren’t for your elbows still supporting you.

His eyes are gleaming with satisfaction. He gives your open legs one last glance before gently pulling your dress back down over your legs. Astarion moves closer and gently pulls a strand of hair out of your face, a hand snakes around your waist and he pulls you up and into him.

Your forehead pressed against his chest, a hand rubs lazy circles into your back, the other cupping the back of your head. His voice is soft and amused, “Better Darling?”

Not knowing what to say, you just nod slowly into his chest. He holds you for a long moment, and you finally clear your throat, sitting up, averting your gaze from him. “I believe my carriage is waiting…”

At your words, he helps you off the desk and hands you the long discarded undergarments with a grin, “Of course doll. Once the case is dismissed, I’ll swing by for my payment”

You look up at him, embarrassed as you slip on the shorts. There’s something about the way he says “payment” that makes you think he’s not just talking about gold. With a nod, you swallow and head for the door. He holds it open and watches you leave in a flustered frenzy. His eyes never avert, not until you get into the carriage out in front of the office. 

Once you’re gone, Astarion glances down at himself. A wet spot forming in his nice slacks; an unfortunate reminder of how much he enjoyed himself, maybe even more than you did. He plops down into his plush chair with a huff, a hand running through his hair. 

This might be a bit more complicated than he initially thought…

(Thank you for reading <3, This is the second fic I’ve ever written, if you have any constructive criticism please give it to me! Also, the cover art is mine, and I did watch Cruel Intentions while writing this)

[dissapointu]

fluffy story with Jinx

———————————————————————-

Jinx had never been great with emotions. She loved big, laughed loud, and threw herself into everything she did with a reckless kind of abandon, but soft feelings? She didn’t really know how to handle those. That was, until you came along.

You weren’t like anyone she’d ever met before. Where most people treated her like a walking warning sign, you treated her like… Jinx. You didn’t flinch when she got too loud, didn’t turn away when she rambled about her inventions or her chaotic ideas. You actually listened.

It scared her at first, the way you looked at her like she mattered. But she liked it, even if it made her heart race in a way she wasn’t used to.

It was late at night in Zaun, and you were both sprawled out on the couch in her chaotic hideout. The glow of her neon lights bathed the room in a soft pink and blue haze as Jinx tinkered with a new gadget. You were curled up next to her, a blanket draped over your lap, watching her work.

“Okay, okay, check this out,” she said suddenly, sitting up and holding the contraption out in front of her.

“What is it this time?” you asked with a smile, leaning closer.

“It’s a surprise,” she said with a mischievous grin, pressing a button. The gadget whirred to life, spinning and popping confetti everywhere. “Ta-da! It’s a celebration machine! For you!”

“For me?” you asked, laughing as a small piece of confetti landed in your hair.

“Duh,” she said, brushing it away gently. “You’re the best thing that’s happened to me, so yeah, you get your own celebration machine. What’s the big deal?”

You felt your cheeks warm at her words. “Jinx… that’s so sweet.”

“Sweet? Nah, I’m just being honest,” she said, flopping back down beside you. “Besides, you deserve all the celebrations. You’re, like, the softest, most huggable person I’ve ever met. It’s awesome.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Soft and huggable, huh? That’s why you love me?”

“Well, duh,” she said, poking your side playfully. “I mean, there’s also the fact that you’re funny and smart and make me feel all… you know, warm and fuzzy inside. But mostly, you’re just you, and I like that a lot.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at her straightforwardness. “You’re such a dork.”

“Yeah, but I’m your dork,” she said, wrapping her arms around you and pulling you into a tight hug.

The next morning, you woke up to the smell of something burning. Alarmed, you rushed to the small kitchen area of the hideout, where you found Jinx standing over a pan of what was supposed to be pancakes.

“Uh… morning!” she said, looking guilty as she tried to scrape the charred mess off the pan.

“Jinx, what are you doing?” you asked, trying not to laugh.

“Making you breakfast, obviously,” she said, gesturing to the disaster in front of her. “It’s not going great, but it’s the thought that counts, right?”

You walked over and gently took the spatula from her hand. “Why don’t we do this together?”

Her face lit up. “You mean I didn’t ruin it completely?”

“Not completely,” you teased, nudging her playfully.

The two of you worked together, and soon enough, you had a stack of somewhat lopsided but edible pancakes. Jinx insisted on decorating them with a generous amount of syrup and sprinkles, because, as she put it, “Everything’s better with sprinkles.”

As you sat down to eat, Jinx leaned her head on your shoulder, a rare moment of quiet contentment. “Thanks for putting up with me, you know? Not everyone gets me, but you do. And I don’t know… that means a lot.”

You smiled, reaching up to ruffle her blue hair. “You mean a lot to me too, Jinx. Chaos and all.”

Her grin widened, and she pressed a sticky kiss to your cheek, leaving behind a little bit of syrup.

Later that day, the two of you wandered through Zaun, Jinx proudly showing off all her favorite hidden spots. She loved watching your reactions — the way your eyes lit up when you saw something new, or the way you laughed at her over-the-top explanations.

“Okay, okay, last stop,” she said, dragging you to the edge of a tall building where you could see all of Zaun spread out below.

“Wow,” you said, taking in the view.

“Pretty great, huh?” she said, sitting down and patting the spot next to her.

You joined her, leaning against her shoulder as the two of you sat in comfortable silence.

“Hey,” she said after a while, her voice unusually soft. “You know you’re stuck with me, right? Like, forever?”

You smiled, taking her hand in yours. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Good,” she said, grinning. “Because I kinda think you’re my favorite person in the whole world.”

You laughed, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “You’re mine too, Jinx.”

[hughiecampbelle]

Devoir (Will Graham Oneshot)

Character/s: Will

Word Count: 1,672

A/N: Just a fic for fun :) Heavily inspired by the books I'm reading atm where the mundane is so pretty. I just love this type of dynamic. A relationship that's so complicated and yet so simple, it can never be put into words. Maybe it's a little boring, lol, but I'm really happy with how it turned out!!!! I am still only on s1 so this might be awful. I'm currently in bed with vitamin c drink and soup waiting for my body to stop hurting, but I will be getting back to regularly scheduled content asap. Feedback is always appreciated! 💕

The lamp beside the bed is turned on, spilling a warm, yellowed light across the bedroom. His pillows thin, his sheets rumpled, the room undisturbed. To the naked eye, or perhaps a stranger, it’s as if someone used to live here. Someone with little presence decided, on a whim, they were done. It was time to disappear. Leave no trace aside from an unmade bed. A ghost. It could be anyone’s room, anyone’s bed. But you know better. There are traces of him everywhere. A breadcrumb trail you have no choice but to follow. He leaves his glasses on the nightstand, unfolded, easily accessible. In moments of panic, of great pressure or fear, his fingers smudge over the lenses. You can see it, the fingerprints, the haze through the glass, as you have watched him before wiping them on the hem of his shirts nervously. Feverishly. The sheets, an off-white, are worn and drag over the side of the bed. He had pulled himself from another night of unrest. Heavy limbed, moving with great effort and little thought. Robotic. A struggle. A fight to remain upright and punctual. The duvet thrown across the bed in a final effort to clean up, to maintain presentation. Respect. Can’t let you know he doesn’t make it and even loathes it, for it mocks him. Another night he will spend not in it, but in the cold, his skin pale and screaming. A single sock without its twin rests beneath the bed frame, deep enough in the underbelly where you might have even missed it. The other must be lost within the blankets or in the dryer. Somewhere where it cries for its partner. He wears them to bed, but cannot sleep with them on. This you know from the long walks back home: he is always barefoot. His life is gore, but his bedroom is not. Neither is it a mystery. It’s another crime scene of course. This time though, he is neither killer nor victim, but the weapon itself. Serrated edges and sleepy eyes. 

You set down your things softly, afraid any louder and something about the moment will crack wide open. Turn to shards and puncture through your skin. Outside the snow soaks up the sound. It’s eerie, this quiet. Even the dogs, downstairs, sleep soundly. You wait, listen, but there is no creaking of the floorboards, no scratching of nails or padding of paws. They are all resting, huddled around the heater. The dark of the woods remains an invading force. You wonder if that’s where you’ll find him tonight. Or, as of recently, in the open road, the door left wide open. You can hear through the walls, just down the hall, the shower water running. Muffled by the closed door, you imagine it. Him. Stripping from his blood drenched clothes. Letting them fall. Unable to think clearly, think forward, stepping into the scalding water. You washed off what you could in the kitchen sink. The water is red at first, and then pink and gummy. Apologizing for staining the dish rag. Specks of red seep into the decorated fabric. Don’t worry about it, he says. Assuring you he’ll be right back. To get comfortable. Undressed, he means, though it’s not like that. These imaginations are merely clinical. Casual, though not sexual. You and Will, you’re. But not. Of course you care for him. As he does for you. 

You packed light, just enough to get by. An overnight bag. A set of work clothes. You plug in your phone, the charger, leaving it on the left side of the bed. It’s become yours, though there is no official label. He on the right, you the left. Items you pull from the bag, leave folded in piles. Unbuttoning your shirt, pulling off your pants. The badge you wear settled neatly on top. You dress with little briskness. There’s a kind of stillness here, in his home, one that puts your mind at ease. The water is still running. You wonder if he hums to himself or if the silence is welcomed. In a smaller bag your toiletries. He has a toothbrush for you. It sits beside him in the container. More and more you spend here. Not inviting yourself, rather being invited. No expectations: you’ve always got a choice in the matter. But the stillness, the scent of fur and fabric softener, the coffee waiting for you in the kitchen and, of course, the toothbrush. All things that draw you here, to him. The less obvious, too. The secrets hidden from everyone, but you. But him. The sleepwalking. The nightmares. The gasping, heart pounding from dreams you wish to forget. You have your reasons for company and so does he. The water stops. You can hear the shower curtain drawback. Picturing him standing on the mat, towel wrapped around his waist, steam enveloping around him. Wipe the mirror. 

He appears minutes later, dressed, his hair disheveled and still damp. Are you comfortable? Yes. Good. Throw everything into the laundry basket. You excuse yourself, bag in hand. The bathroom is warm, the walls bloated, and it smells of him: the sharpness of his aftershave, the softness of his soap. When you return, your mouth tasting of spearmint, your skin washed and dried, you find him in bed, book wide open. The wind howls in the night, the dark settling over the skyline earlier each day. It whistles through the trees, knocking sweetly with her branches. He looks up momentarily before a small smile appears, turning his attention back to the story, as if remembering you again, remembering yes, you’re here after all and he, momentarily, is no longer left alone with the night ahead. Feeling your presence made the idea of sleep easier to swallow. You climb in beside him. You wonder if this will play out like the others. His arms laced around you, his hands knotted, clinging for reasons he has yet to explain. Your head on his chest, rising and falling with his breath. The deep sleep you will slip into. A temporary blackness before the day plays out on its own: the blood, the skin, the rot. Waking up with a startle. Alone. Not bothering to call out for him. He is long gone. Wandering. Finding your coat and shoes, the dogs at your feet, a tripping hazard, equally as disheveled. They spill out into the night while you search for signs. Clues. Footprints. Something to tell where he’s headed. Wandering in the open road, thankful the rest of the world is not yet awake. 

You’ll walk him home, a blanket thrown around his shoulders, your voice low and steady. The sun will rise around you, the sky in its warm pinks and bright oranges. You’ll coax him into bed where he will lay, but not sleep, until your alarms go off in sync. Insist he should stay a few more minutes, but when you disappear to wash and dress he will head downstairs. Feed the dogs. Pour coffee from the pot into dual mugs. Your fingers will touch as he hands it to you, shyness blooming from the apples of his cheeks. In life, you do not touch. The affections you share are small, minute, sheer enough for no one to notice. It is in the evenings, the dead of night, when the moon is full and bright that you are unashamed of your neediness, the both of you. Holding and needing to be held. You’ll drive separately. Speak little, if at all, of your lives outside of work. Share a bed and a coffee pot, but that is all. You’ve asked before, if he describes these times with you to Hannibal. He never mentions your name, your presence. Call him a liar. Joking only a little. He shrugs his tired shoulders. He can probably smell you on him, and yet he has nothing to say. No leading questions, no assumptions. Your interactions with one another are minimal. Besides, these times together are innocent. Platonic. Someone to be there not to clean up the pieces, but gently sweep them up and leave them in a pile to be placed back together. The affections you feel towards him are more complicated than you’d like to admit, though as time goes on, you sense everyone in his life feels contradictions about him, juxtapositions they can’t quite explain. You love him as he loves you, but this love isn’t the specific kind others kiss into their partners mouths or fuck their way out of. You’re not sure if there are any words that could describe what you feel. You have more important matters to take care of, anyways.

Thank you, Will. You say while the steam warms your skin and the smell, like home, wraps itself around you. Standing in the kitchen, lingering though you know you should be pulling on your coat, placing your badge where everyone can see. It sits lazily on the table between you, beside the milk and sugar. Of course, he always responds. Of course. Of course. Of course. Like he wouldn't dare do otherwise. You wait, quietly, watching one another, perhaps waiting for the other to speak first, though neither of you do. The clock is ticking. The dogs, now fed, are hopeful you’re staying to play, to skip work and spend the day with them. How you want to apologize for the ways in which you’re misleading them. His glasses fog up and you can’t help but smile. His expression cracks, the mold crackling, until the corners of his mouth turn upwards. Finally, you hear your own voice breaking the silence. We should get going. Of course, he says, the two of you cleaning off the table, careful not to get in the way. Thank you for, he starts, referring to the long walk home in the early morning, the awkwardness of finding him in his boxers, the vulnerability of his heartbeat in your ear, but you stop him. Of course, Will.

Of course.

[slay00ryu]

RONIN WITH MC WHO REALLY LIKES CATS PLS

A Small Cat Obsession.

You were a cat lover ever since you could remember. Obsessing over everything that had even the small drawing of a cat on it, you loved the animals more than anything in the world.

But maybe your obsession went a little overboard when you moved out from your family home and found an apartment... Every piece of house equipment was covered in cat drawings, stickers, there was cat decor everywhere, posters. Of course you also had two cats on your own, they were like your children, you would kill for them if you had to.

Well there was also someone else you liked, not as much as cats of course. You have priorities and humans aren't as high as the lovely animals.

Ronin. A serial killer, The Butcher, a mechanic, and the same man who invited you to his server, a haven for serial killers.

Some murderers that you heard of were there, The Sunset Slasher from the 90's, Heartsick Angel, and of course The Devil's Butcher.

You and Ronin were dating for a while, he also technically wanted to kill you, but who would care about that small detail? Definitely not you. You have cats to take care of, death isn't an option for a while now.

You were fast asleep, cats at your sides. You were unaware of the dangerous individual who was climbing to your window.

A man entered your room, hands in his pockets once he was finally standing on still ground. He was looking around, curiosity getting the better of him. He knew that you were crazy about cats, talking about your pets all the time. That's why it wasn't too surprising for him when he spotted the cats next to your sleeping body.

What surprised him though was a pillow thrown to his face right after one of the cats meowed and hissed into his direction.

You woke up. And you were the person who threw that pillow at him.

The light on your bedside table was lit, your eyes squirming to get adjusted to it.

"Ronin? What the fuck are you doing here?!"

You were obviously caught by surprise. You knew you couldn't expect anything from Ronin, he was unpredictable, crazy and rotten.

"Awh, why are you so angry darlin'? I just wanted to see you."

Oh that cocky grin. How much you wanted to scrap it from his face.

You watched as Ronin looked around you room, he looked back a you with a whistle.

"Damn, nice obsession you have going I see. It almost looks like you're in a cult dedicated to cats."

His words made you somewhat embarrassed. Especially when he looked so amused when he noticed your pyjama with a big cat on it.

"At least I don't look like an edgy teenager."

You replied sharply.

Ronin picked up the pillow you threw at him and walked up to your bed.

"Maybe I should become a cat for you to obsess over me so much, hm?"

The look in his eyes was full of amusement. He was having fun with his taunting.

"Oh shut up, you wouldn't be even as cute as my cats."

You rolled your eyes and he gave you a chuckle.

"Nah, I'd be a purrfect cat. Meow."

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Meow meow

We're cat obsessed in this house >w<

[lieslab]

Prescribe yourself to me

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: Lee Felix X gn reader

Summary: Your chronic illness makes a fun holiday date with Felix turn into a memorable disaster.

Genre: Comfort/hurt

Word Count: 2.7K

Trigger warning: Mentions of chronic illness, fatigue, guilt, and a brief moment where the reader faints.

_ _ _

It was supposed to be fun and it was supposed to be freeing. One of those blooming memories that you look back upon with joy in your heart and a sparkle in your eyes. The holiday season crept up again and among all the fun and excitement, Felix sent you a link for Christmas lights at the zoo. 

The place would be covered in them. From animal enclosures, gift shops, and random pathways, lights would strand bulb-by-bulb and turn the entire place into a perfect Christmas themed wonderland. With holiday tunes softly playing and a cheap entry fee, it was supposed to be something magical. 

Animals were something you enjoyed and bright lights captured your attention like a moth. Felix was practically bouncing on the balls of his feet when he showed you photos from previous years before. With a twinkle in his eyes, an oversized grin, and his charm, how were you supposed to say no? 

That was a few weeks ago. At the time, you didn’t think about how you might feel at this point. You didn’t consider the weight placed upon your shoulders by being chronically ill. You didn’t think about the fatigue that’d enclose you in its grasp or the anxiety that’d cause your heart to race. Furthermore, you didn’t know how to tell Felix. 

You stayed quiet as you slipped into your fleece coat. You pulled on your hat, despite your body pleading for sleep. Gloves covered your shaky fingers and you sucked in a deep breath. 

How many other times had you faked it? How many times had you pushed up a fake smile and brushed off your illness? How many times did you put the needs of others before your own? You wouldn’t allow yourself to give up and accept this defeat. So instead, you tied up your laces, grabbed the car keys, and headed towards the car where Felix awaited you. 

By the time you found a parking spot in the area and had to walk roughly a fourth of a mile, you were exhausted, but you kept going. Step-by-step, you could make it. You’d pull through, not because you wanted to, but because of Felix. You needed to prove that you weren’t weak, you weren’t a burden, and you were the perfect significant other. 

“Look at that!” Felix’s hand went out as he squealed. He pointed to Christmas trees formed from light strands. They wrapped around a metal fence of some unknown enclosure. “They’re so cute!” 

Animated movements brought him back to boyhood. He grabbed your hand and maneuvered between the crowd quickly. Your coat brushed past strangers and your murmured apologies became lost in the crowd. Felix tugged you closer until you were only about a foot away. 

“Woah.” His smile reached his eyes as he glanced up. The display was pretty large, quite a few feet taller than him. “Would you let me put a Christmas tree up if it was this tall?” He glanced over to you for your response. 

“I don’t think a tree this size would fit in our apartment.” 

“When we get a house together, we’re going to have to get high ceilings. High ceilings and we can get a giant tree. We can invite all the guys over and decorate it every year. It can be a new and fun tradition.” 

“Cookies and popcorn strands…” He trailed off with a soft smile on his face. “Matching ornaments and garland, a full theme strung along branches. I think we’re really all going to love it, right?” 

You hummed in agreement and glanced over your shoulder. A headache was beginning to throb behind your left eye. You should have consumed something before you came. The zoo always had high prices, but you’d just have to deal with it. 

“Hey, can we stop at one of the food places? I think there was a cafe back that way.” You nodded back towards the cement path behind you. “Maybe they have hot chocolate or something.” 

“Yeah, let’s go!” He tugged you towards the dividing stream of people. Some were going one way and others were heading in the opposite direction. 

Multiple people were in line by the time you got there. A frown fell upon your face, but you forced yourself to hold it together. In the meantime, Felix gently nudged your shoulder and pointed across the way. “Look, they have a ferris wheel.” 

And they did. A ferris wheel had been blocked off in one of the back corners of the zoo. Neon lights flashed and baskets slowly went around and around the large loop. Your stomach turned at the thought of being that high up in the air. 

“You want to go?” 

You wanted to reject the idea. You wanted to say no. You wanted to say screw it to everything and go home, but you couldn’t. How were you supposed to say no to that face? 

The way his blonde hair poked up in different spots from the wind. His freckles were illuminated a darkened purple from distant lights. His lips threatened to switch to a grin. 

“Sure.” 

“Hooray!” His arms shot out towards you and he pulled you closer to him. “This is going to be so much fun! Maybe at the top, we can take a selfie together, so we remember forever.” 

You nodded, but deep down, you hated yourself. You were stewing in agony internally. Your legs were unsteady and they ached. You hadn’t walked that far, but your body was already over it. 

The moon watched over you, but the rays radiating down upon you didn’t warm your skin. You’d never admit it out loud, but you felt like you had been abandoned by everyone. 

You hadn’t, not really, you still had people around you. You dealt with coworkers five days a week and you had family members. Felix was your boyfriend, but you still felt utterly alone. 

Some people just didn’t get it. They didn’t understand how chronic illness worked. They didn’t understand the fight it took to get out of bed. How hard you had to fight to survive a day where others sailed smoothly through the rhythmic waves. 

Life was like an ocean, but you were always drowning in a tsunami. Your own body was against you. How many times had you gone to the doctor begging for some sort of relief and been handed an empty diagnosis? 

Too much stress. Not enough nutrients. Take some more vitamins and try to eat more fruit and veggies. Less processed sugar and more sleep. Just lose a few extra pounds.

It was always the easy way out for them. It was a way to get a patient through the door. Some doctors thought you were faking and when you finally found the right doctor, sometimes you wished you hadn’t. 

Chronic illness was manageable for some, but yours felt like the death penalty. Some days, life felt normal and just when you thought you could forget about it, it came back to strike you down. 

It choked you in the middle of the day and curled fingers around your neck in the dead of night. You didn’t ask for this and you didn’t want this. Nobody would ever willingly want this. Out of all the people in the world, why you? Why was your own body so against you? 

You didn’t realize it was your turn. You weren’t aware your feet were moving on their own. Felix’s hand was in yours and he gently pushed the warm cup of hot chocolate into your other. 

You wanted food, but you zoned out. Maybe it was for the better, it wasn’t the best idea to go on the ferris wheel and risk throwing up. You could find food afterwards and maybe, you’d wait until after you left the zoo. 

As you walked in the direction of the ride, you couldn’t find most of the animals. Quite a few of them were in their warming areas. They couldn’t stand how cold the weather had become and you couldn’t blame them. Your own joints were beginning to feel achy, despite the gloves, hat, and scarf you had thrown yourself into. 

Lights created presents and strands dripped from trees; a special neon rain effect. They created outlines of zoo animals and were wrapped in hearts. Hundreds of tiny lights lit up the paths and showed you the way through the darkness. 

When you finally got to the ferris wheel, it was a relief to sit down. You collapsed in the seat and shut your eyes. Felix’s warmth curled up next to your side and you sucked in a sharp breath. The ride operator tinkered with the belt that wrapped around your waists and then he fell away. 

With a push of the button, the two of you began to ease higher and higher into the night sky. The longer you kept your eyes closed, the more Felix worried. He studied your face, the shadows dancing along your skin, and the brown bags beneath your eyes. 

“Are you okay?” 

You hummed softly and nodded your head. “I’m good, it’s just a lot of people and I wasn’t expecting it.” You changed the topic when your eyes reopened. “Did you see any of the penguins?” 

That snapped him out of it. “Yes! Did you see that one? He was waddling with a pebble between his feet and he was the cutest! Did you know that’s how male penguins propose to female penguins?” 

You stayed quiet and let him ramble. It was really cute, the way his hands gestured. He continued explaining until the ferris wheel came to a halt up in the sky. The moment the metal basket stopped, he slowly tipped his head up. 

“I think this is the closest we’ll probably ever get to the stars. Likely, the closest that we’ll ever get to space too. Isn’t it all so beautiful?” 

“Aren’t you surrounded by stars everyday?” You weakly teased. 

He playfully rolled his eyes and mumbled for you to shut up. His head slipped onto your shoulder. Your own head gently found his as the two of you stared up at the night sky. 

Off in the distance, the big dipper twinkled. It never stayed in one spot, it was always moving. No matter how or where it moved, the moon would always keep watch. 

“I could stay like this forever,” you whispered after a few moments. 

“Me too.” 

“I love you a lot.” 

“I love you too.” 

You silently vowed to continue trekking after this. It was a cute adventure and you still didn’t want to let him down. Below the two of you, kids were laughing and running. Parents were trying to wrangle up young siblings. 

Strangers were offering one another their phones and asking if they could take photos of one another. Whether it was couples, friends, or family, everyone wanted to capture their moments with the lights. Humans always had a thing for sparkling things. 

When you finished the ride, your hand found Felix’s again. The two of you followed the path until you came upon the reptile enclosure. Felix’s eyes widened as he read the sign. “Come on! We’ve gotta go see this.” He gently tugged your hand in that direction. 

“Are we allowed to go in there?” 

“It doesn’t say we can’t. Look!” He pointed to a couple opening the door. “If they’re going, we can go too.” 

You agreed and followed in his direction. Inside, the building was humid and uncomfortably warm. Hidden in sandy rock formations, glass panels revealed different enclosures for the reptiles. 

Tongues darted out of lizards’ mouths. Large snakes with repetitive patterns strung around branches lazily. They paid little attention to the hustle and bustle of watching humans. Someone gasped as a bearded dragon sprinted across an enclosure and disappeared beneath a larger log. 

You let Felix tug you along and follow the crowd. You glanced around taking it all in, but it didn’t fully click for you. He read off fun facts and provided commentary, but you stopped listening. 

You were feeling worse. The heat made you dizzy and soon, you were sure he’d realize your legs were wobbling. Fatigue was hammering down your bones and snipping at your muscles. Your head drooped and your hand tightened around Felix’s. 

“Oh, look, look! It’s an iguana! Do you think Chan would be mad if I tried to talk him into letting us have one for a group mascot? They’re fast and tough. They can swim and hold their own in a fight. I wanna see Hyunjin outrun one of them.” 

“Felix?” You mumbled as your head found his shoulder. 

“His name is Tank. Yeah, he’s kinda built like one. Look at that smoking hot body!” A whistle fell from his lips. “I’d hate to be the iguana that fought that guy.” 

“Felix?” You tried again.

“You want me to fight him? No way, babe. That thing would eat me for lunch. It probably eats chickens…two chickens.” He shivered at the thought. 

Your body dropped. Felix gasped and quickly grabbed you before you could hit the floor fully. Your knees and his grip were the only things holding you up. 

“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” he mumbled. “Fuck, just hang on. Don’t worry, I got you. No worries, I can handle this. Just try to stay awa-” 

You knew what he wanted, but your body had other plans. You were launched into the darkness without mercy. Your body ached, your joints screamed, everything hurt. The cool weather and then the sudden warmth, the lack of food, the dizziness from heights, it was a recipe for disaster. All you wanted to do was make Felix happy. You just wanted to be a good significant other, one that didn’t let their chronic illness control them. 

When you woke up, you found a cool paper towel laying across your forehead. Lights had been dimmed down, so you couldn’t see much. You could, however, see Felix’s worried gaze glancing down at you. “Hey, can you hear me?” 

A soft hum fell from your lips. Your eyes drooped again and he gently wiped your face with the coolness. “I promised I had you and I still do. Don’t worry, you're safe. I found a member of the staff and now we’re in a behind the scenes area.” 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. 

“For what?” 

“Ruining your fun.” 

“Ruining my fun?” His eyebrows scrunched up. “You didn’t ruin my fun. How would yo-” 

“I’m chronically ill, Felix, I’m always ruining your fun.” 

“Hey, that’s not true and you know it. We’ve been over this before. You can’t help it and it’s not your fault. I love you and your chronic illness.” His eyes widened and his face fell. “Shit, no! I don’t love your chronic illness. I wish you didn’t have it, but I don’t hate you. I love you both. Fuck! I-I mean-” His cheeks grew red. 

“I know what you mean.” 

He sighed and shut his eyes. “You just stay there and take a breather for a bit, yeah? The staff left us alone, but they’ll be back. Check out this sticker they gave me!” He held up a small piece of shiny paper with an iguana on it. 

“Apparently, they thought I was going to cry. One of the members saw us admiring the iguanas earlier and they gave it to me. How cool is that? See? You didn’t ruin anything. How else would I get a cool sticker?” 

“Yeah, but I still feel awful.” 

“Don’t feel awful. I love all of you and you act like you’re a burden to me. You’re not and if I would have realized you were struggling so much earlier, I would have offered to go home.” He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to the center of your forehead. 

“You are the best thing that ever happened to me. Chronic illness or not, you’re not getting rid of me. I hope your chronic illness is a fan of iguanas. They offered to give us a behind the scenes tour. Baby, we’re gonna see Tank.” 

“Felix,” your eyes stayed closed, “don’t even think about trying to kidnap him.” 

He scoffed, “I wasn’t going t-” 

“He’ll eat your chicken legs for lunch.” 

“You know, on second thought, maybe I’ll just let him stay with the zookeepers.

| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |

Taglist: @lina-linny @straykidsstanforeverandever @seungnishi @stellasays45

Masterlist

Taglist and inbox rules

[blu3-ja3]

Hello! I based this off of my own experience with both my parents being active duty for most of my life. I'm also here to say that I'm almost completely finished with cleaning out my drafts I just have one more to post and then I'm going to start on the winner for the poll! Be patient my lovelys it's coming!

O'Connor is excited, not only is everyone bringing their families in for a little on base celebration of the holidays, she also gets to introduce someone to her team. The only one who knows about it is Laswell, she's the one who introduced them. But still O'Connor is bouncing up and down with excitement, helping Soap wrap the presents that'll be handed out. Price allowed them all one day to get family gifts and their secret Santa gifts. O'Connor got Soap and was very much excited to give him his gift, a small portable water color set, a new sketchbook, new pigmented pencils, and a new kneaded eraser.

The first to arrive were the MacTavish sisters and their kids. Blair is the old, a tall girl with dark ginger hair and the signature MacTavish blue eyes, her little girl took after her almost a carbon copy just with a darker olive complexion from her father. Ainsley is the second oldest, she has a wild curly mop of dark brown hair and dark blue eyes, but her laugh is just like Soap's full bodied and contagious, her two boys are cute little devils they're smart like MacTavish. They're both curled hair, one blonde and the other brown, both have dark brown eyes and freckles. Grace is the one closest in age to Soap but she's still older, she has a lighter brown color to her short hair and the same dark blue eyes. If you set the two of them together they both act the same, and both have the mischievous streak. No little ones that O'Connor knows of but she doesn't really ask nor cares.

As soon as the sisters walked into the smaller hanger they were on top of Soap, all hugs and smiles. As soon as Ghost entered the room the three children were in him instantly babbling away. Once the girls were done with their brother they made their way towards Ghost, giving hugs and helping with the kids. O'Connor could feel the smile on her face and knew it would be there for a while tonight.

The next to arrive were Roach's Aunt and Uncle, his mother's brother and father's sister. O'Connor knows this is all the family Roach has left but even they seem a bit distant from the boy. Roach hugs his aunt and gives his uncle a firm hand shake, they chat for a bit and Roach seems happy. But the boy absolutely lights up as Samuel walks in with a man, woman and three small children much younger than Sam, trailing behind him. He greets them and waves over his family as they all begin to chat. O'Connor relaxes into her soft smile again. Ripley and Boogs immediately run off to play with the small horde of children around Ghost.

Gaz had gone to pick up his family from their home and they only appeared a short time after Sam and his family. Adia Garrick is a beautiful woman, she a bit taller than O'Connor with her hair wrapped in an intricate purple fabric and is wearing a matching kanga. Gaz is the exact image of her, Mrs. Garrick is followed by a young girl and boy both in their mid teens, the twins. The girl has beautiful locs decorated in beads and the boy has similar hair to his brother if Gaz didn't cut it short. Gaz begins showing his siblings around and Mrs. Garrick approaches Price and begins talking with him while Gaz is away.

Nikoli and his family show up next, his oldest hovering closer to the Garrick twins and the two younger join the tiny horde of children that are currently playing with the dogs. Nikoli's wife waves to O'Connor before going to set something on the table of food that Gaz and O'Connor spent most of the day preparing. O'Connor felt a bit of anxiety tinge her mind, silently waiting for Laswell to arrive.

Just as O'Connor started to feel a pit in her stomach Kate arrived with Sarah on her arm, O'Connor moved to greet them before she could think. Then she sees her and her heart leap from her chest, the same way it does every time O'Connor sees Quinn. The short brown haired woman looked to her with her gorgeous hazel eyes and O'Connor's heart skipped a beat. It didn't take more than a second for Quinn to throw herself at O'Connor and they held each other for a long time. It has been a while since they've seen each other and even longer since they've been in the same room.

Quinn works closely with Laswell and when Kate learned of Quinn's preferences she began to play match maker. O'Connor was hesitant at first but as the months went on and her fondness grew she couldn't help herself. The two have been together for about two and a half years, Laswell suggested that O'Connor introduced the team to Quinn at this event. And while this isn't the first time they've physically seen each other it's been a while. A million and one things have happened to both of them and of course O'Connor wanted to introduce her cailían to her team but there was never a good time.

Now though it was a good time because everyone was staring at them as they held each other. Kate was just smiling at them, her head gently laying against her wife's. Nikoli held his wife in his arms. Gaz was whispering to Roach both sets of eyes on them, Ghost gently squeezed Soap's hand, and Price just smiled. But O'Connor was focused solely on the woman in her arms.

Eventually everyone settled down and made introductions. They all ate and chatted, joking and regaling each other with stories. Eventually they moved to giving their families gifts and their secret Santa gifts. The children tired themselves out playing with the tired dogs. Ghost lost the small army of children following him around. Everyone said their good byes and good nights. Tomorrow the team has off and they'd get together with their families one last time and then the weekend would be over and it was back to life as normal. But they held to this small piece of normality and held it tight.

[gojoswhitebabydolllashes]

Girl, your stories are so GOOD! I love reading your fics. I just saw you may be taking fics for Jayce or Viktor. Is there any way I could request a Jayce x Viktor x Reader fic where the reader is very naturing, cuddly, and gentle with both of them, but maybe she hides all her stress and struggles cause she deems theirs more important? Like, she always knows when they want coffee, how they each take it, covers them up when the lab is cold or they pass out at the desk, rubs their shoulders when she sees them shrug too much, just very attentive. Yet, she’s not a scientist and thinks that being stressed over literature projects and teaching is ridiculous cause it’s not as difficult or as important (in her mind) as hextech. So she just ignores her needs until these two notice.

I’m so sorry if that is too much! I hope you enjoy the third act when it comes out. Thank you so much for reading this! 🩶

OH ABSOLUTELY I CAN DO THIS. 😭😭 THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING AND LIKING MY STORIES IT MEANS SO MUCH.

--fem reader. Fluff. Small sad. Angst if you squint. Cute throuple time.

--

The laboratory is cold, and the rain that batters piltover decorates the window like glass tears. Your eyes droop tiredly as you watched viktor twist the cogs in the next hextech project and listen to the sound of slow puffs of steam every few minutes that came from brass pipes on the walls.

Jayce is unmoving as he sits at his own desk, sorting through two stacks of papers. You hate it, hate watching them so vulnerable and so tired. Both are so hard-working and loyal to their studies.

"Allow me to help you both," you spoke as you stood up.

Reaching for two soft blue blankets stored in the corner, you walked firstly to jayce and draped the blanket across his shoulders and gave his cheek a soft kiss.

"I can't have my boys going cold now, can I?"

You spoke as you walked to viktor to drape a blanket across his much more lean shoulders, kissing his cheek, too. Viktor looked up at you and smiled tiredly.

"Thank you, my love." it never failed to make your heart flutter hearing viktor call you that, especially when his accent made it so smooth and endearing.

"Are you staying with us tonight?" Jayce spun in his chair, leaning an arm on his knee.

"I um" you cleared your throat.

The truth was, you had things to do. Your own assignments and activities to tend to. But viktor and jayce's eyes were gleaming deep brown in the dim laboratory light and so often you found yourself missing them when they would make you go to bed without them because they were afraid you would pass out after spending so long with them doing work.

"I have no where to be"

Paperwork

Documents

Assignments

Blueprints

Papers

Papers papers pap-

"No," you shook your head. "I have nowhere to be"

You smiled as you walked over to stand by the window, viktor and jayce came to stand on either side of you. The rain still pounded the glass, crystal city and enforcers were hounded the soaking streets each night, like a herd of elephants stampeding with metal boots.

"You need not worry about what's happening down there." Jayce put his hand on your shoulder.

Viktor turned his head to you. "It is not our worry, my love" he spoke ever so softly.

You pressed your lips together into a thin line, as you thought over so much.

"You both must be hungry," you stated.

You stepped away from them both before you walked over to the door. You would make them cups of hot tea and nice warm soup. bread and butter.

"Stop right there, doll" Jayce spoke loudly.

You froze and turned around to see jayce holding up your textbook. You gasped and realised they had indeed caught you.

"When were you going to tell us you had assignments to do?" Jayce asked.

Viktor turned around to face you, his head tilted. You looked at the ground defeated before them, and began to cry.

"I'm so sorry I didn't tell you both. I was so entranced with helping you with your dreams that I forgot about my own, " you frowned and sighed.

The two of them walked over to you and hugged you tightly. If they had known you were in such troubles, they would have chained you to the table and glued a pencil in your hand.

"I love you both so much, and I'm so sorry that kept it from you." .You looked at them with gentle and sorrowful eyes.

"You need not be sorry. But It's time to start taking care of yourself, my love. " viktor held you close to him

You nodded, making them both smile admiringly.

"We love you, pretty girl"

You gave them both soft kisses to their lips and smiled. "You know I'm still going to take care of you both"

They were your boys. And even if you were working every day and night on your own papers, you would find ways to still make sure they had their breakfast lunch and dinner and were always hydrated and healthy. You loved them both dearly and they too loved you too.

"If I find out you aren't focusing on yourself, I'll take back my promise to buy cupcakes" Viktor spoke.

Not only did you gasp. But beside you, the man of progress did too.

[kathlare]

between the quite moments

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: A quiet day unfolds in Amelie’s simple apartment, offering a glimpse into the contrast between her relentless schedule and fleeting moments of peace with Lando. As they navigate the calm together, their time is filled with humor, mundane activities, and an undeniable connection, highlighting how love thrives in the ordinary.

Wordcount: 1.1 k

Warnings: just fluff

June 12th, 2024 - Indianapolis, IN

The soft hum of the air conditioning was the only sound in Amelie’s apartment as sunlight streamed through the wide windows. It was simple, almost painfully so, with sleek modern furniture that looked more functional than inviting. The neutral tones of the space felt impersonal, a far cry from the warmth of her home in New York. She didn’t bother decorating it—what was the point when it wasn’t home? But at least her cats made it feel a little less empty.

Lando groaned as he rolled over on the bed, squinting against the morning light. It was too damn early, but his internal clock was still set to European time. He glanced at the other side of the bed, already empty. Of course. Amelie had been up for hours.

Dragging himself out of bed, he shuffled to the kitchen, scratching the back of his neck. The cats were already awake and clearly unimpressed by his delayed attention. Björn, the wild little troublemaker, was batting at an empty food bowl, while Benny lounged on the couch, looking smug as ever.

—Alright, alright, I get it,— Lando muttered, grabbing the bag of cat food from the counter. Björn meowed insistently, circling his legs like a predator. —You’re worse than Max when he’s hungry.—

He filled their bowls, watching as Björn practically attacked his food while Benny sauntered over with the kind of regal air that suggested he was doing Lando a favor by eating at all.

—Good morning to you too, Your Highness,— Lando said, giving Benny a scratch behind the ears before grabbing a cup of coffee.

The apartment was too quiet without Amelie, and he already missed her presence despite having spent every waking moment with her since the Governor’s Ball. He smiled at the thought—how her eyes had lit up when she’d seen him in New York, how they’d danced and laughed like the rest of the world didn’t exist.

But Indianapolis was... different. It wasn’t glamorous or bustling like New York. It was quiet, almost eerily so. And Amelie’s schedule here was relentless. He was determined to make the most of the week he had with her, even if it meant figuring out how to navigate her insane filming hours.

As if on cue, the front door creaked open, and Amelie walked in, balancing a tote bag and a cup of coffee. She looked exhausted, her hair pulled into a messy bun and her face free of makeup, but she still managed to take his breath away.

—You’re awake,— she said, kicking off her sneakers.

—Barely,— Lando replied, setting his mug down and walking over to her. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close. —I don’t know how you do it. It’s not even noon, and you’ve already been out and back.—

—Welcome to my life,— she said with a tired laugh, resting her forehead against his chest. —It’s only going to get worse. I have a night shoot later.—

Lando groaned dramatically. —A night shoot? What am I supposed to do all day without you?—

—Entertain my cats. They’re more demanding than I am,— she teased, pulling back to look at him.

—Björn’s a little shit,— Lando said, glancing at the wild tabby who was now scaling the back of the couch like a jungle cat. —He tried to kill me this morning.—

—That’s just his way of saying he likes you,— Amelie said, grinning. —And Benny?—

—Benny’s chill. He’s my favorite.—

—Traitor,— Amelie said, smacking his arm lightly.

They spent the rest of the morning lounging around the apartment. Amelie caught up on some lines for a scene she was filming later, while Lando sprawled on the couch, scrolling through memes and occasionally tossing toys for the cats.

By mid-afternoon, boredom got the best of him.

—Let’s do something,— he said, stretching his arms above his head.

—I have to be back on set in three hours,— Amelie reminded him, not looking up from her script.

—Three hours is plenty of time! Let’s explore or... I don’t know, eat something that isn’t cereal.—

Amelie rolled her eyes but smiled. —Fine. Let’s go.—

They ended up at a small café down the street, the kind of place that felt like it belonged in a Hallmark movie. The waitress recognized Amelie instantly, but she didn’t make a big deal about it, much to Lando’s relief.

As they sat outside, sipping iced coffee and picking at a shared slice of pie, Lando leaned back in his chair and took in the quiet street.

—This place is... quaint,— he said, trying to find a polite word.

—It’s boring as hell,— Amelie said bluntly. —Don’t sugarcoat it.—

Lando laughed. —Alright, yeah. It’s boring as hell. But you make it bearable.—

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her smile. —You’re such a dork.—

They walked back to the apartment hand in hand, and for a moment, it felt like the calm before the storm. Amelie had a long night ahead, and Lando knew their time together was fleeting, but he was determined to make the most of it.

That evening, as Amelie got ready to head back to set, Lando found himself alone with the cats again. Benny curled up next to him on the couch while Björn darted around the apartment like a lunatic. He sent Amelie a text.

Lan🧡: Good luck tonight. Don’t let Vecna scare you too much.

Ames💛: Vecna’s got nothing on Björn. That cat’s a menace.

Lando chuckled, glancing at the tabby who was now clawing at a random corner of the rug.

This wasn’t the glamorous life he’d imagined when he’d flown from Canada to surprise her in New York. But sitting there, in her plain, simple apartment, surrounded by her chaos and her cats, he realized something.

He didn’t care where they were or what they were doing. As long as he was with her, he was happy.