#they ask you how you are and you just have to say you’re fine when you’re not really fine

[00kittenz]

── smarty. ( pjs ) 🪷

๑ Jay has had enough of your brattiness for today, there’s only so much he can take.. so he may as well teach you a little lesson, right?

pair: bf!jay ㅊ gf!reader | warnings: smut, angst (??), small age gap (jay is 5 years older), d/s dynamics, bratty!reader, slight ddlg themes, spanking, p.ssy slapping, oral (f. rec), edging, crying, daddy kink, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, reader is implied to be a curvy/thick girly but anyone can read tbh ! | words: 1.7k

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“what’d i tell you about saying things like that?”

“i don’t care, it’s true !” you snarled, if it hadn’t been made clear how aggravated you were, it sure as hell was now.

you and jay spent the weekend with his parents at a resort somewhere in jeju. everything was going fine at first, that was until an unexpected guest invited themselves to join your little ‘family trip’. her name was hanna ? halie ? you don’t know and you didn’t care. what fogged your mind for the rest of the trip was how she clung up onto jay like the smoke to dry ice.

what agitated you even more about her was her need to call you out asking you a million questions about your clothing and how she’s so shocked that jay settled down with someone like you. all of her backhanded compliments would rub you the wrong way and she just gave you weird vibes. it’s as if you weren’t “pretty enough” to date him; according to her at least. don’t get it twisted, jay definitely shut all of that down. he wouldn’t let any woman pin you as anything less than you were. a fucking goddess.

“why’re you acting like this? what’d i even do?” he paused. “what haneul does has nothing to do with me.” he continued, eyes focused on the road. he’s become fed up with your constant nagging. maybe it’s just his level of maturity that makes him unable to see it, but he doesn’t understand why you worry so much, it was as if every ‘i love you the most’ ‘you’re my favorite’ ‘it’s only you’s’ didn’t matter. he felt like his words held no weight whatsoever.

“nothing to do with you ? hah, you’re the one who let her bombard our vacation. might i add family vacation.” you sterned, shifting your body closer to the door of the vehicle, looking out the window.

“what did you expect me to do y/n? she’s been a family friend for years now, i can’t just tell her to fuck off and go somewhere else. she’d go crying to my mom about how mean i was to her and that’s just extra drama that i don’t need right now..” he exhaled heavily, glancing at your avoidant figure. when he got no reply from you he left it be, turning up the music to avoid the awkward atmosphere the both of you created.

๑ ๑ ๑

“babe, can you pass me my frames ?” jay dared to ask even though you’d been ignoring him since the incident from earlier.

“y/n.” “please ?” watching as you hadn’t budged even a bit he grew upset. it was already bad enough for him that you were acting like he didn’t even exist, which was fine. though, he wouldn’t just take your constant disrespect.

so he got rid of what seemed to be your main source of attention. your phone.

“what the fuck, jay !” you reached at him. “give me my phone !”

“jay !” he mocked, his voice altering to sound high pitched like yours. “don’t you see that i’m trying put things back together? why do you have to act like such a child.” he was disappointed in you. you were a fully legal adult, yet your actions said differently.

“strip.” jay broke the silence you let fill the room. you were hesitant, and confused, but at least you were actually looking at him now. “you heard me, now.” his brow raised as his mouth slipped a scoff.

were you just gonna let him boss you around ? definitely not. were you feeling intimidated ? yes. but your pride stood stronger than the trouble you’d get into. you breathe heavily finding your way to the door of your bedroom for your dramatic escape; until you felt a tug at your arm and then the softness of your mattress, cosigned with the weight of your built boyfriend.

“i guess i have to do everything myself today, huh ?” jay sounded calm but you knew otherwise, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t let this play out just to see this side of him. ‘cause you did. hell, you felt your wetness dripping past the wall of your ass, the sticky sensation sending your body chills.

the jingle of his belt caught your attention, but before you could even glance at him, your face was meshed with the comforter of your shared bed. you shriek.

“jay— !”

“oh now you wanna talk ? huh, funny.” his hand sent goosebumps throughout your body as he runs his palm over your clothed ass. “it’s a shame you don’t listen. now your pretty tails gonna be all red.” he pinched the fabric of your skirt flicking it upwards onto your lower back.

“ ‘m sorry..” you uttered feeling him tug at your underwear.

now, jay was ignoring you. all you felt was him adjusting your waist, so that your ass sat in the air.

“‘m really sorry..ja—” you pause, shrieking at the leather that came in contact with your silky skin. if you could describe the feel of it, it’s like a slow burn, a slow burning that spread like wildfire everytime he unleashed the branded weapon on you.

discipline is a topic your parents took lightly. yeah, they disciplined you, but it was never a ‘bend over my knee’ type of discipline. more like, every morning you wake up ‘sit in that corner’ type of discipline. jay never went soft on you when it came down to it. he wanted to make sure you never do whatever you’re in trouble for again.

“crying ? what’re you crying for,” jay never pushed aside your emotions, he had to hear you out or his guilt would eat him alive. hearing you sniffle shot a sort of worry in him.

“listen, you put yourself in this situation—” he paused throwing his belt. “you already know what happens when you wanna act like a brat.” he palmed your cunt. he wasn’t going to baby you this time, that’s all he ever did. maybe this was partially his fault too..

subconsciously, you felt yourself grinding on his hand. you were needy, you always were after a punishment, even if he didn’t know. but now, you were on display. there was no way he wouldn’t find out.

“you’re such a fucking slut,” his thumb caressing your entrance, pushing your sweetness through your dewy folds. “already so wet for daddy, hm?” his thumb slid through your sticky walls in a in and out motion. your slick caking his finger everytime he pulled it from inside you.

“please..” was a constant that came from your mouth. you didn’t know what you were pleading for. more ? less ? what was it ? you only knew that he made you feel so good. the look of him drenched you. you wanted him to slut you out. ruin you.

“please ? please what?” he couldn’t help but snort at you. the mere thought that you can get what you want with just a please— scratch that. the thought that you think you can get whatever you want after testing his patience, made him laugh. “please.. forgive me ?”

“i dunno..m” you slurred, you were estatic. just his thumb, making you feel so dumb. it made you feel small, like you were nothing but a tiny spectacle of dust.

“you dunno..? wan’ me to help you find out ?” you were flipped onto your back before you knew it. once you saw the shift in his eyes change, you knew what he was prone to do. the thought itself making you spread your legs wide open.

you even made the mistake of trying to rub yourself. that quickly got disposed.

“you lost your damn mind ?” his hand reached down to slap your weeping pussy.

“baby, i can’t wait.. please!” you whined watching as he kneeled down, face between your begging thighs, hands cupping each pretty chunk of flesh.

“but you can.” “matter of fact, you will.” he blew onto your core. the cold sensation bringing your hips to a jolt. his eyes scanned your smaller figure watching every expression that played out on your face, then down to your breasts. “lift up your shirt, let me see your beautiful body, baby.”

earning yourself a “good little girl.” when you comply.

๑ ๑ ๑

you hadn’t gotten a break since he started his mouth on you. drinking in your first orgasm, then the second. seems like you were now on your third.

“fuck.. jay.” you groaned your hips aching to move in his grasp. you’d try not to breakdown whenever his nose came in touch with your throbbing clit.

“you done ? talk to me baby.” he growled against your heat. his warm breath made you thirsty. he was eating you like it was his last supper. ripping you to absolute shreds.

“i’m gonna come, daddy..” your legs were shaking, your voice was whiney, and you needed an exhale. once he started sucking on your clit your back arched. at him, the feel, and the thought of him, making you feel.

“yeah, you gonna come for me ?”

“yeah.. wan’ come for you..” you spoke through labored breaths. once your moaning got louder, he stopped. he’d love to make you come, third times a charm. but he wasn’t going to. he basically lured you in just to trick you.

“jayy !” “it was right there, i was about to cum !” you childishly whined at the begging sensation between your legs. the quivering feeling making you force your legs closed to suppress the throbbing feel. you felt his hungry stare on you. you knew he wanted you. it’s when you realized this wasn’t an after punishment treat. he was edging you. right after overstimulating you. how cruel..

“aww, look at you ! my pretty girl..” he pouted at you, your sad, twitching state. you were groaning for more as he watched you. pitying you. how could you have thought it was over? after a mere spanking ? silly.

“i guess you really thought huh.” he cackled. “ooh ! should we order room service.. i’m kinda hungry. you ?” he got up to go and search for the phone.

maybe you did deserve this. shouldn’t be acting so damn bratty all the time, even if it’s in your nature to piss him off. now look at you. eyes all watery, and a mess between your legs.

oh well, not his problem.

[hotshotsxyz]

8x01 coda

(buddie adjacent) (784 words) spoilers ahead, read at your own risk!

A little peroxide, a little elbow grease, and the engine bay should be good as new. Five minutes, ten max, except Buck’s been scrubbing for twenty and the fucking stain won’t come up. He kind of wants to scream.

There’s blood soaked into the concrete and blood on his hands and it’s ugly and red and Buck needs it to be gone. He pours more peroxide and watches it foam.

It’s too goddamn quiet in here. The construction’s stopped, obviously, and Hen took the station out of service so no alarm will take its place. No one’s yelling, no one’s commiserating, no one’s vacuuming the fucking upholstery.

Nausea wraps itself around Buck’s organs. A hand lands on his shoulder and he jumps.

“Buck,” Eddie says, quiet, too fucking quiet.

Buck scrubs at the stain.

“Look at me,” Eddie says, kneeling beside him.

He can’t. He fucking can’t because the stain is still there.

Eddie grabs his wrist. “Buck,” he says again, forceful and a little loud.

Buck drops the sponge and whips around. “What?” he asks. It comes out flatter than he thought it would, drenched in something like apathy.

“You can stop,” Eddie says.

“No,” Buck says, shaking his head. “You know what he’ll do if this is here when he gets back?” He gestures at the stain. He can’t even say his name.

Eddie’s hand tightens around his wrist. “Let someone else give it a try,” he says gently.

Buck knows when he’s being fucking handled. He wrenches his wrist from Eddie’s grasp. Eddie grabs his shoulder instead.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he says quietly.

A humorless bark of laughter escapes Buck’s throat. “Yeah, no, I just killed a guy. Totally fine.”

“He’s not dead,” Eddie argues.

“Yet.”

Eddie takes a long breath. “He’s not dead,” he repeats. “And even if that changes—”

“What,” Buck interrupts. “It won’t be my fault? It kind of fucking is.”

Eddie shakes his head minutely. “If that changes it’ll be the universe or whatever.”

Buck rolls his eyes. “You don’t believe in the universe,” he says.

“No,” Eddie acknowledges. “But I believe in what I can see. And what I saw was you risking your life to save his. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Buck swallows harshly and rocks back on his heels. “For—for a second I—”

“What?” Eddie prompts.

“I was—I wasn’t happy, but I—Eddie, I didn’t care,” Buck says finally. He drops the rest of the way to the floor and pulls his knees to his chest.

Eddie blows out a short puff of air and settles next to Buck. “I’m still not sure I do,” he says, tilting his head to catch Buck’s eyes.

“You don’t have to care,” Buck says. “He’s awful to you, and you’re not the one who killed him.”

“Still not dead,” Eddie reminds him. “And he’s awful to you too. He was in the middle of yelling at you when you saved his life.”

“It’s not the same.”

“It’s not,” Eddie agrees.

Buck bites his lip. “Have you…” he trails off.

“Ever killed someone?” Eddie guesses.

“You don’t—I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—” Buck stammers.

Eddie presses his knee against Buck’s. “I don’t know,” he says, “not for sure.”

Buck frowns.

“I’ve shot at people,” Eddie continues. “Hit a few. I don’t know if any of them died. I’ll never know.”

“How do you deal with that?”

Eddie levels him with a flat gaze. “Buck. I’m in so much therapy.”

It startles a laugh out of him. “Eds I’m serious,” Buck says.

“I am too,” Eddie replies. “And either way, it’s different. You didn’t kill him.”

“He still might—”

“Buck.” Eddie looks away slightly and shakes his head. “Even if he dies, all you did was change what killed him. You gave him a fighting chance, it’s more than he would’ve given you.”

Buck scrubs at his eyes as they begin to sting. “I don’t know what to do with that.”

“You talk to me,” Eddie says, nudging his shoulder. “You’re a good person, I’ll tell you as many times as you need to hear it.”

A single tear escapes Buck’s lash line. “Yeah?” he asks, watery and rough.

“Yeah.” After a moment, he stands and holds a hand out to Buck. “Come on,” he says. “Brass says we can go home. You’re coming with me.”

Buck takes Eddie’s hand and allows him to pull him to his feet, leaving the sponge and the stain exactly where they are. “Okay,” he says quietly.

“Okay,” Eddie repeats.

There’s blood on Buck’s hands. Eddie takes him to the shower room to wash it off.

[lulunothulu]

“Phone neighbor”

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader

Summary: You’re bored one night and decide to text your phone neighbor…who happens to be a very hot (and cocky) aviator.

Content: drinking, fluff

Friday nights are so boring. Especially when you have nothing to do for the night.

Your friend, Natasha, invited you to go to the bar she and her aviator buddies frequent. Hard Deck, was that the name? Who knows. Either way, you didn’t think hitting a bar right now would do you much good.

You’d been in a reclusive and lonely mood all week but right now, you were feeling adventurous.

You pull your phone out of your pocket and dial the first nine digits of your number but changed the last number to the following one that came after yours.

Let’s play a game of phone number neighbor.

You: Hi, so this is random, but you’re my number neighbor.

Them: Oh really?

You: Yes… so you’re from Texas too?

Them: Born and raised in Austin.

You: That’s so cool, I was raised in El Paso and Houston.

Them: Nice! Are you still there?

You: Nah, I’m in California. How about you?

Them: Funny enough, I’m in California too. I’m in the Navy, a pilot 🤠

You: Oh shit! You might know my friend, Natasha Trace.

———

Jake smiled down at his phone. “Hey Phoenix!”

Nat turns around, rolling her eyes at him. “What?”

“I think I just met your friend.”

“What?” She looks around. “Where? And who?”

“I don’t know their name, let me ask,” he says. He looks down at his phone, sending a quick text before smiling and telling her your name.

“Holy shit!” She laughs.

“Is she single?” Jake asks.

“She is actually…give me a second.”

———

“Hello?” You say, answering your phone.

“What the hell are you doing?” Nat asks.

You can hear the noise and chatter coming from the bar you knew she’d be at.

“I’m at home doing a face mask,” you tell her.

“No I mean, with Hangman,” she tells you.

“Who’s Hangman?”

“The person you’re texting?” She laughs.

Hangman: So you know Phoenix? How?

You: We grew up together. She’s practically my sister.

“Hey, he’s texting me right now,” you tell her.

“I have an idea.”

Hangman: What do you look like?

You: I’ll send you a picture of you send me one too.

Hangman: What? You want proof?

You: Sure, let’s call it that.

Hangman: [Picture]

Hangman: I’m on the left, that’s Bob in the middle, and Fanboy on the end.

Hangman: Your turn.

You smile, sending him a picture of you with your green face mask, hand up in a peace sign and lips in a duck face position.

Hangman: That’s not what I expected but still hot.

Hangman: Wait a second… did Nat call you?

You: Maybe…

[Incoming call from ‘Hangman’]

“Hello?”

“Hey, mask lady. Nat!” You hear him say. His voice is deep and southern drawl thick. “Tell your friend to send me a real picture of her.”

“Y/N?” You hear her say.

“Hey, Nat.”

“Send this pretty boy your face. He’s desperate and threatening to make me drive him to your house.”

You laugh. “Fine. Should I send the one with my tits pushed up?”

“Jesus Christ, tell her yes.” You hear Hangman say in the background.

“Tell him that I’ll send him a normal one and to stop listening to our conversation,” you tell Nat. “Actually, pass him back.”

“Hi,” you hear Hangman say.

“Hi back, cowboy,” you reply.

“I like that nickname, makes me sound a lot cooler than I am,” he tells you.

You laugh. “I’d like to know your real name, and not your callsign.”

“I’m Jake. Jake Seresin,” he tells you. “You don’t have to tell me your name. I already know.”

“Yeah I figured that much,” you mutter.

“When can I see you in person?” He asks.

“When are you free?” You smile and bite your lip.

“How about now? Come to Hard Deck.”

“I don’t really do bars…”

“Then I’ll come to you. What’s your address?”

You laugh. “I don’t even know you like that. What if you’re a psycho?”

“I wouldn’t be a top pilot in the navy sweetheart.” You chuckle, making him wait before he asks, “Soooo can I come over?”

“Have you been drinking?”

“Not really,” he tells you.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“You can come over. But bring food, I’m starving.” You tell him.

“Same,” he tells you. “And it’ll give you enough time to get ready and wash that face mask off.”

Fuck I forgot about that.

“I’ll see you soon.”

———

A face wash, makeup application, and teeth brushing later, you hear Hangman—Jake—ring the doorbell.

After changing into some cute sweats, you run downstairs and answer the door.

“Hey,” you say.

“Hey yourself,” he says. He’s a lot taller than you thought he’d be. And a lot hotter than you thought too. He holds up a bag of takeout and a gym bag. “I brought food and a change of clothes.”

He’s wearing his khaki Aviation uniform still.

“Yeah, come on in.” You step to the side, allowing him to come in. “Bathroom’s down the hall and to the left.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” he smiles.

God his smile made him so much hotter.

When he comes back from the bathroom changed and in gray sweatpants and a Texas Longhorns shirt, you smile and wave him over to your couch.

“What’re you watching?” He asks.

“Nothing that the moment,” you tell him. “I was waiting for you.”

“How sweet.” He smiles. “This has to be the best first date I’ve a been on in a long time.”

“Who said this was a date?” You ask, raising your eyebrows.

“Oh, did I assume?” He cockily smirks at you which makes your cheeks turn red. “And from the way you’re blushing, I’d say you’d like this to be a date.”

“Shut up,” you mutter, a smile playing on your lips.

Two hours later, Jake is still at your place and your head is resting on his shoulder.

“That was a cute movie,” he tells you. “Why did I cry so much?”

“Because Toy Story 3 is ruthless,” you sigh, wiping your eyes.

“Either way, I don’t think I can sleep if we don’t watch something else.”

You sit up and face him. “Why? You too sad to leave?”

“No, I don’t want to leave yet,” he says truthfully. “Plus, it’s my turn to choose a movie.”

“Which is?”

“Legally Blonde.”

You smile, scoffing before laughing and shaking your head. “You surprise me.”

“In a good way, I hope.”

“Definitely,” you nod.

“Can I surprise you one more time?” He asks, voice barely over a whisper.

You shrug and smirk. “Depends on what it is.”

He places a hand on your cheek, snaking his fingers to the back of your neck.

“Can I ask you one more thing?”

“That counts as a question,” you whisper.

He chuckles. “That one doesn’t count.”

“Go ahead.”

He takes a deep breath, leaning in close to the point his nose touches your own. Your heart is pounding, excitement and anticipation flowing through your body.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Please do.”

So he does, soft and sweet at first. That is, until you pull his head in, deepening the kiss. Your mouths race, devouring and exploring every inch of your mouths. You shift your body, straddling Jake’s lap and wrapping your arms around his neck, something you notice feels so normal, you don’t want it to end.

“Take me upstairs.” You order.

“Yes ma’am.”

[its-avalon-08]

im not giving up on you (dr3)

after the singapore gp, i was sobbing. danny, our sunshine danny might be leaving us and that broke my heart so entirely. here is to out honey badger, you made me love this sport, seeing your smile was the only light on some dark days. you made it, you lived your formula one dream and you will always be able to say that. for always making us laugh and find joy in the butterflies, we thank you daniel <3

✦ pairing - daniel ricciardo x female!reader

✦ genre - angst, losing his seat, tears, fluffy ending

The Singapore night was thick with humidity, the scent of burning rubber still clinging to the air long after the race had ended. Daniel Ricciardo walked through the now-empty paddock, the silence overwhelming. The once-vibrant energy that pulsed through the grounds was now replaced with nothing but the dull hum of the lights, casting long shadows that made the place feel eerily lonely.

Daniel had always been good at putting on a strong face. Smiling, joking, pretending everything was fine. He had perfected it over the years. But tonight, the facade had cracks — deep, painful cracks that threatened to break him entirely.

After the Singapore GP, the world knew. The news had broken: Daniel was losing his seat at V-CARB. Another seat lost. Another chapter closing. And it felt as though he had lost everything again. He couldn’t bear to face his team, his friends. Not even Max. So he stayed in the paddock long after everyone had left, sitting alone on a stack of tires, his head in his hands.

He didn’t hear the footsteps at first.

"Daniel?"

The voice was soft, familiar, and full of concern. He looked up, blinking through the blur of tears that stung his eyes. There she was — Y/N Verstappen. Max’s little sister.

She had always been around, always there, a comforting presence from the days when he and Max were teammates. She had been his friend, but it was so much more than that. They had danced around their feelings for years, never daring to speak the truth, both afraid of what it might mean.

Daniel quickly wiped his eyes, trying to pull himself together. "Hey," he said, his voice strained, cracking under the weight of his emotions. "What are you doing here?"

"I should ask you the same," Y/N replied softly, stepping closer. "It’s late."

"I couldn’t leave," he admitted, his eyes staring at the ground, unable to meet hers. "It’s just… a lot."

Y/N stood in front of him, her eyes searching his face. She could see right through him. "You don’t have to pretend with me, Daniel."

"I’m not pretending," he lied, letting out a shaky laugh. "I’m fine. It’s just another bump in the road, right? I’ll bounce back. I always do."

But even as he spoke, his voice trembled, and Y/N could hear the pain beneath his words. She sat down beside him on the tires, close enough to feel the heat radiating off him in the humid night air, but still hesitant to touch him.

"It’s okay to not be fine," she whispered, her voice barely above a breath.

Daniel’s jaw tightened as he looked away, blinking rapidly. He didn’t want her to see him like this. He had always been the strong one, the happy-go-lucky guy who could handle anything. But tonight, the weight of everything was crushing him.

"I feel like I’m losing everything," he finally admitted, his voice breaking. "Like no matter what I do, no matter how hard I fight, it’s never enough. I’m never enough."

Y/N’s heart ached at the sight of him like this — so vulnerable, so raw. She reached out hesitantly, her hand gently resting on his arm. "Daniel… you’re more than enough. You’ve always been more than enough."

He shook his head, biting down on his lip as tears welled up in his eyes again. "I don’t know how to keep going. Everyone keeps telling me to just keep my head up, keep smiling. But I’m tired, Y/N. I’m so tired."

Her hand tightened around his arm, the warmth of her touch grounding him in that moment. "You don’t have to do this alone."

Daniel’s shoulders shook as he exhaled a deep, shaky breath. He didn’t have the strength to pretend anymore. The tears he had been holding back for so long finally fell, spilling down his cheeks as he covered his face with his hands, his body trembling with silent sobs.

Y/N felt her own tears start to fall as she watched him break down, the sight of him so utterly heartbroken making her chest ache. She couldn’t hold back any longer. Without thinking, she pulled him into her arms, wrapping him in a tight embrace.

"I’ve got you," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I’ve always got you."

Daniel buried his face in her shoulder, his arms wrapping around her waist as he clung to her, the dam of emotions finally breaking. He sobbed into her neck, all the pain, frustration, and helplessness pouring out of him. And Y/N held him, stroking his hair, whispering soothing words in his ear.

"I don’t know what to do, Y/N," Daniel choked out between sobs. "I feel like I’ve failed. Again."

"You haven’t failed," she insisted, pulling back just enough to look at him, her hands cupping his tear-streaked face. "You’ve given everything, Daniel. You’ve fought so hard. You’re one of the best drivers out there, and no seat can take that away from you. Not now, not ever."

Daniel let out a long sigh, pulling away slightly from Y/N’s embrace, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. His voice was quieter now, but it carried a weight that hadn’t been there before, like he was finally allowing himself to speak the truth that had been buried deep inside for years.

"You know," he began, staring out at the empty paddock, "when I left Red Bull, I thought I was making the best decision of my life. I really did. I thought… this was it, you know? My time. I didn’t want to be second to Max — your brother’s an incredible driver, you know that. But I couldn’t sit there anymore, watching everyone around me believe I’d always be the second-best. I wanted to be number one. I wanted my own team to back me, to believe in me. And at the time, Renault seemed like that opportunity, like I could prove I could lead a team, that I could fight for championships."

He laughed bitterly, running a hand through his hair. "God, I was so naïve. I thought leaving Red Bull would be the start of my rise, not the beginning of my fall. Renault wasn’t easy, but I stuck it out. Then McLaren came calling, and I thought that was my shot. It was McLaren, you know? One of the biggest names in Formula 1. I thought I was stepping into greatness."

He paused, his voice trembling. "And then everything fell apart. From the start, it felt wrong. Like I didn’t belong there. I tried so damn hard, Y/N. I worked my ass off, but nothing clicked. No matter what I did, how much time I put in, it never worked. Every race, every session, I felt like I was slipping further away from the driver I used to be. And it wasn’t just the car — it was everything. The pressure, the doubts, the whispers that I’d lost it, that I wasn’t the driver I once was."

He swallowed hard, the pain of those years written across his face. "They treated me like I was broken. Like I was damaged goods. And I started to believe it. Every time I got into that car, I felt like a shadow of myself. They replaced me without a second thought, like I was disposable. And I tried to be strong, you know? I tried to tell myself that it didn’t matter, that I’d bounce back. But deep down, it hurt. It hurt more than anything."

Y/N squeezed his hand, her heart aching for him, but she stayed silent, letting him speak.

"And then this year," he continued, his voice cracking. "I thought coming back to V-CARB was going to be my redemption. That this was finally going to be the moment where I’d prove to everyone that I still had it. But now… now I’m losing my seat again. And it just feels like the world’s telling me I’m not wanted. That no one believes in me anymore. Every time I think I’m getting back on my feet, I just get knocked down again. It’s like no matter what I do, no one sees me. Not as I am, not for what I can be. They just see what they think I’ve become — a has-been."

Daniel’s voice grew quieter, almost a whisper. "I feel… I feel like I’m unwanted, Y/N. Like I don’t belong anywhere anymore. I used to love this sport so much. It was everything to me. But now it feels like it’s slipping away, like I’m being pushed out, and I don’t know what to do."

He ran his hands over his face, the weight of his journey pressing down on him like a heavy burden. "I’ve given everything to this sport. Years of my life, my heart, my soul. I sacrificed everything to chase this dream. And now… I’m just scared, Y/N. I’m scared that no matter how hard I try, I’ll never be enough. I’ll never get back to where I once was."

There was a long pause, the silence between them thick with emotion. Daniel’s chest rose and fell as he tried to steady his breathing, but his eyes were red, his cheeks stained with tears.

"I just… I don’t know how to stop feeling like I’m failing. Like I’ve lost everything that mattered. And it’s killing me, Y/N. I don’t know if I can keep pretending like I’m okay, when inside, I’m falling apart."

Y/N couldn’t take it anymore. She wrapped her arms around him tightly, pulling him close. "Daniel, you’ve never been a failure. Not to me. You’re the strongest person I know, and no matter what happens, no seat, no team, no damn race can take away who you are. You’ve always been enough."

And this time, Daniel didn’t pull away. He sank into her embrace, the tears falling once again, but this time, it felt different. He wasn’t alone.

His eyes searched hers, filled with so much pain, so much doubt. "What if this is it? What if this is the end for me?"

"It’s not the end," Y/N said firmly, her thumbs brushing away the tears on his cheeks. "And even if it were, you’d still be Daniel Ricciardo — the man I…"

She stopped, the words hanging in the air between them, unspoken for years.

Daniel’s breath hitched as he realized what she was about to say. "Y/N…"

She looked away, her own tears threatening to spill over. "I’ve loved you for so long, Daniel. And I hate seeing you like this. I hate that you’re hurting, and I hate that I never told you sooner because maybe… maybe you wouldn’t have to go through this alone."

Daniel was silent for a moment, his mind racing as her words sank in. He had always known. Deep down, he had always known. But hearing it, finally hearing it… it shattered something inside him.

"I’ve loved you too," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I’ve loved you since… since forever, Y/N. But I was scared. I didn’t want to lose you. I couldn’t lose you."

She looked at him, her heart breaking at the sight of the tears in his eyes. "You could never lose me."

Daniel leaned his forehead against hers, his breath shaky as they both cried, the weight of their unspoken feelings finally crashing down on them.

"I need you," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

"I’m here," she replied, her arms wrapping around him again, holding him as if she would never let go.

They stayed like that for a long time, clinging to each other, their tears mingling in the humid night air. And when the exhaustion finally overtook them, Daniel shifted, pulling Y/N down with him onto the bench beside the tires. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close, their bodies fitting together perfectly as they lay there in the silence of the paddock.

Y/N rested her head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat as they both closed their eyes, the weight of the world fading away for a little while.

And in the stillness of the night, they finally found peace in each other’s arms, their unspoken love wrapped around them like a blanket, protecting them from the world outside.

the next day

The next morning, the sun filtered through the windows of the small café tucked away from the hustle and bustle of the paddock. Daniel felt lighter today. His heart still ached, the reality of his situation hadn't magically disappeared overnight, but there was something different. A quiet peace had settled inside him. Maybe it was because, for the first time in a long time, he wasn’t carrying his burdens alone.

He glanced at Y/N across the table. She was scrolling through her phone, a soft smile tugging at her lips as she absentmindedly tapped her fingers against the table. His chest warmed at the sight of her. Y/N was always there, had always been there, but now it was different. Last night changed everything.

They hadn’t said much that morning, but they didn’t need to. She had been a constant presence at his side, making him feel like, no matter what, he’d be okay.

“So,” Y/N said, breaking the comfortable silence. “You ready for this?”

Daniel chuckled, taking a sip of his coffee. "Depends. Is Max going to kill me or just be incredibly smug?"

Y/N laughed, and Daniel could swear it was his favorite sound in the world. “He’ll be a bit of both, probably. But definitely more smug. He’s been calling this for years.”

As if on cue, Max Verstappen walked into the café, spotting them immediately. He made a beeline for their table, his signature serious expression betraying just the faintest hint of amusement. He slid into the seat across from them, a wry smile on his face.

"Morning," Max said, folding his arms across his chest, eyes flicking between the two of them. "Well, well, well. Look what we have here."

Daniel groaned playfully, rubbing the back of his neck. "Go on, get it out of your system."

Max leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms, and grinned. "I knew it. I’ve known it since, what, the first year we were teammates? You two were practically inseparable. The way you used to look at each other…" He shook his head, pretending to be exasperated. "I can’t believe it took you this long."

Y/N blushed, rolling her eyes. "Alright, Max, don’t be so dramatic. It wasn’t that obvious."

Max raised an eyebrow. "Y/N, you’re my sister. You think I didn’t notice how every time Daniel was around, you’d act different? Or how he was always finding some excuse to come over when you were visiting?"

Daniel groaned again, leaning back in his chair. "Okay, okay, you were right. Is that what you want to hear?"

Max smirked, taking a long sip of his coffee. "Yes. Yes, it is." He paused, then his expression softened, his teasing giving way to something more sincere. "But seriously, I’m happy for you both. You’re good together."

Daniel felt his heart swell at that. Max wasn’t the type to dish out compliments easily, especially when it came to his sister. He knew how protective Max was of Y/N, and hearing those words meant more than he could express.

"Thanks, mate," Daniel said quietly, meeting Max’s gaze. "It means a lot."

Max gave a small nod before turning his attention to Y/N. "Just promise me one thing — if he does anything stupid, you’ll let me know so I can give him hell for it."

Y/N laughed, giving her brother a playful shove. "I’m pretty sure I can handle him, Max."

Max grinned. "I have no doubt."

The three of them fell into an easy rhythm after that, the conversation light, the teasing back and forth, just like old times. For a brief moment, it felt like everything was as it should be — like the weight of the past few months had lifted, even if just for a little while.

As Max droned on about the next race and the changes to his car, Daniel glanced at Y/N, who was laughing at something Max had said. She caught his gaze, her smile softening, and in that moment, Daniel realized that no matter what happened next — no matter how uncertain the future felt — he wasn’t alone.

For the first time in a long time, he felt like he belonged. Not just in the sport or on the track, but with Y/N by his side. And whatever came next, they’d face it together.

"So," Max said suddenly, breaking through Daniel’s thoughts. "You’re both officially a thing now?"

Daniel smirked, his hand finding Y/N’s under the table. "Yeah, Max. We’re a thing."

Max raised his coffee cup in a mock toast. "Finally."

Y/N giggled, squeezing Daniel’s hand as they exchanged a knowing look.

Finally.

[peachysunrize]

[ TANGERINE DREAMS ]

Summary: being stood up on his wedding day, Aemond’s life takes a turn for the worse. Heartbroken and humiliated, he finds unexpected help in Helaena’s childhood friend, who helps him move back into his family mansion. Summer cocktail parties and a long stay at the Targaryen residency, Aemond might let the girl who’s always been in his life make a home in his heart.

Tangerines, in general, symbolize prosperity, good luck and happiness. So if these delicious fruits appear in your dreams - whole or in the form of juice - it is usually very positive. A dream with tangerines expresses the desire and the possibility of progress and prosperity

Warnings: none! A bit of angst, mentions of Aemond’s eye pain, flufffff✨

Word count: 5.6k+

A/n: soooooooo what do we think??👀 shit’s bout to hit the faaaan🙂‍↕️🤭 reblogs and comments are so appreciated!💕🥹 also a special thank you to @namelesslosers & @catinapottedplant for beta-ing this for me<3333

Taglist: it’s closed<3

-> series masterlist <-

Chapter 7: country club

“It feels like we’re on a secret mission,” you say as you walk hand in hand upstairs towards Alicent’s study with Helaena.

“You know she only allowed me once in this room? The boys aren’t allowed even near the stairs,” she scoffs and you nod at her, knowing how Aegon would probably turn into a kid all over when he steps into a new area. “But to let you inside this room… she either wants to fuck you over for shagging her son or something serious is happening.”

“Alicent fucking me over isn’t serious in your humble opinion?” you ask her, shaking your head when she grins at you. “You’re exactly like Aegon, carbon copy.”

“How dare you?” she gasps, leading you to the end of the hallway. “Aegon is a whore, a lovely one, but still a whore.”

“I didn’t mean that you are one too, what do you take me for?” You nudge her with your elbows, giggling as you walk closer to the door at the end of the path. “I mean you guys are just chaotic! Both of you think your Mum is too dangerous and at the same time she’s a saint.”

“Don’t worry, gorgeous. I’ll back you up in there if she brings up Grandpa and how he says a new relationship is bad for Aemond.” She pats your head and you gawk at her.

“Bitch, you better,” you slap her hand away playfully. “You set us up, I’m gonna snitch on you if your Mum says anything about this. Also… why is it a bad thing for Aemond to move on?”

“That’s… we’ll talk about it later, yeah?” she says awkwardly, knocking on her mother’s study door before she pushes it open, “Oh! Well… morning, Mum.”

“Hi, hey!” Alicent clears her throat as she tries to appear busy with a line on her wooden desk while Criston turns his back to her and looks out of the window, both of them flushed and blushing. “Morning, girls!”

“Hi, Ali,” you look between the couple, watching with amusement as Helaena tries to stifle her giggles and Alicent is nearly fainting with how red and ashamed she looks. “How are you doing on this fine morning?”

“Amazing!” She claps her hands, and sits down on the chair and points at the loveseats in front of her desk. “As you know Aemond’s birthday is in a few days, three to be exact, and I thought we should do something special for him. I mean, as special as he lets us…”

“I don’t remember if I’ve ever been to one of his birthdays,” you shrug. “So, what is the plan?”

“You know we already have our wine selection, we even told him that it will be for his birthday. But… I was thinking about hosting this party in the Targaryen country club.”

“Wow—“

“Are you serious, Mum? Like actually fucking serious?” Helaena cuts you off, her blonde brows twisting in a deep frown. “You’re joking.”

“Hel—“

“No, you know how he feels about them! You know this and you wanna torture him!”

“What? What’s going on?” you ask, trying to intervene in the situation before Helaena says something she might regret later. “Is there going to be someone other than us?”

“Listen to me, my loves,” she sighs and looks at Criston pleadingly before she averts her Bambi eyes to you, “my family is rich enough to buy thousands of these clubs, but during my divorce with Viserys… his one and only condition was that we couldn’t have access to the club without telling him or Rhaenyra first.”

“Basically, she has to invite them all because of a stupid fucking belief when she knows how much pain they have caused Aemond!”

“Helaena.” Alicent’s voice echoes in the room, and for the first time you see how your best friend shrinks from her mother’s gaze. “Darling girl, I will only tell them about a gathering, nothing more or less.”

“Why do you wish to throw this party there?” You reach to hold Helaena’s hand and she squeezes yours in gratitude, helping her calm down a little bit. “I mean we can do this somewhere else! Maybe a party on your family yacht!”

“Because Aemond is a man of history, and that club has been passed on from generation to generation. It holds kind of a legacy for Targaryens. And knowing Aemond and where he decided to get married, I think he will love it.”

“Yeah, he will if the person who cut his eye out doesn’t show up,” Helaena sighs, rubbing her forehead, “Listen, Mum, I love you and I really respect you but… come on, Aemond will not like it if Rhaenyra shows up, nor will any of us! I don’t think he wants to see eye to eye with Viserys after how his wedding turned into shambles.”

“I’m not inviting them, I’ll just text your father’s assistant to tell him we’ll be there. I doubt he wants to join us anyway…” Alicent rests her forehead on her hands, and in an instant, Criston stands next to her, rubbing her shoulders soothingly. “Thank you.”

“Does this party have a theme or a dress code?” you ask, leaning back on the seat, trying your best not to show your excitement for your boyfriend’s birthday party.

“It will be a formal gathering, a cocktail party of sorts. Luxurious, comfortable, and a bit of a show-off because my father will join us and he is all about image and reputation, so there will definitely be a few photographers. Oh, and my brother will join us as well!”

“Finally meeting this ultra-rich Uncle Gwayne,” you chuckle, nodding at Alicent. “I hope gifts are allowed.”

“Aemond hates gifts—“

“Let her buy something for him, maybe someone out of the family will change his mind, yeah?” Helaena comes to your rescue, winking at you and squeezing your hand, “Besides, Uncle is going to give him something mind-blowing anyway.”

“Alright, but you will handle his attitude yourself,” she points at you, glancing at Criston, who is silently listening to the conversation. “So, the country club, Rose wine, formal clothes, one single gift from you, and a good few days spent together.”

“I’ve never been to a country club!” you acknowledge, already excited for the next few days you will be spending with the Targaryens. “What should I even pack?”

“Can I pack your clothes? Please? Pretty please?” Helaena begs you, pulling you up on your feet quickly before you both wave goodbye and leave Alicent’s study. “You're gonna be so surprised to see what I have bought you now!”

“You’re so fucking crazy.” You both laugh quietly as you walk past Daeron’s room. “Alright, you can pack my bags. But I’m just gonna—“

“Go, go! Go check up on your man, babe.” She kisses your cheek before she departs from you, skipping toward her room to grab a few things to bring for you.

With a soft sigh, you walk downstairs, moving through the endless hallways of the mansion, and finally reaching Aemond’s room. Knocking on his door gently, you wait for a response, but then you only hear a groan in what you can only assume is pain.

“Little Nerd?” You slowly push the door open, finding Aemond curled up on his side, clutching his duvet hard in his fists. “Baby, are you alright?”

You approach him, padding towards his bed as he trembles slightly, his breaths coming out quickly and unevenly, and with worry, you crawl on his bed behind him, gently brushing his long hair off the spare pillow to rest your elbow on it.

“Hey…” you lean over his face; he is flushed, his good eye is closed and the other is an empty socket. You brush his hair out of his face, caressing his head as gently as you can.

“Darling?” he calls for you, his voice fragile and quivering. You press a kiss on his clammy forehead, rubbing his arm to soothe him a little, finally understanding what he must be dealing with.

“How bad is the pain?” You scoot closer, resting your head on his shoulder while you rub his arm, reaching to caress his fist gently, trying to open his fingers without bothering him. “What can I do for you?”

“Just… just leave,” he says through gritted teeth. “I’ll be fine.”

“I know you will, but let me help you, yeah?” you try to convince him, snaking your arm behind his neck, gently rolling him over so there is no weight on his damaged eye. “Come on.”

“I always do it alone, I think I can cope—“

“I know you do, and I’m proud of you for that,” you cut him off before his pain turns into anger, “but you don’t have to do it alone anymore.”

“I-I forgot to put my eyepatch on—“ He tries to sit up and move away from you but you wrap your other arm around his middle and keep him on the bed. He can easily push you away, but when he doesn’t, you sigh in relief and pull him down so his back rests on your chest, his head tucked in your shoulder.

“Alys… she used to give me head massages,” he whispers, closing his good eye as he slowly lets his body relax in your arms, the pain of his eye still lingering in the empty socket. “Probably the only thing she did without demanding anything in return.”

“Would you like me to do the same?” you ask, pulling the duvet on top of you, cradling his head in your arms. “Or, I can apply some of the creams you have put there.”

“My head is killing me,” he groans again, turning in your arms to lay his head on your chest, and you tuck him under your chin, holding him close as he grabs your waist. “I forgot to take my meds last night…”

“Oh no.” You squeeze him in your embrace, pouting a little as he battles with the agony. “Tell me how I can help you, maybe I can do something to ease your pain.”

“You can’t do anything,” he sighs and looks up at you, reaching to cup your cheek. “Just stay here, the pills will kick in in a few minutes.”

“Okay,” you rest your hand on top of his, bringing his palm to your lips to press a gentle kiss on it, smiling down at him softly, “Do you wanna talk about something?”

“Yeah, what should we talk about?” He rests his head back on your chest, closing his eye as he listens to your breathing.

“Hmm, maybe your birthday?”

“Not a fucking chance—“

“Oh, come on, don’t be a bummer! You're gonna be twenty-six in a few days! That’s exciting,” you chuckle as he groans and hides his face in your dress, smothering himself between your boobs, “and get your face off of my chest. I know your game, Targaryen.”

“Stop calling me by my last name,” he groans, wrapping his arm around you to hold on to you tightly as a new wave of pain rushes through his nerves. “Fuck—I wish I could die.”

“Hey, look at me,” you look at him seriously, craning his neck to force him to look at you, “I know the pain is bad, my darling, I know… but you will get through it, you have done it before, you will do it again. Don’t you dare say you wish to— fuck I will never forgive you if you say that again.”

“I’m so sorry,” he says quietly, his grip tightening on you as you lean down to kiss the bridge of his nose. “I shouldn’t have said that…”

“Don’t be.” You prep his cheek with kitten kisses. “As long as you have me, I won’t let anything happen to you. Also!”

“No, please—“

“We should pack your clothes! Oh, I’m gonna have so much fun giving you all of my attention on your birthday!” You squeal when he flips you both over, covering the empty socket of his eye before he leans down to kiss you.

Your lips move in sync, slowly and passionately, yearning for more, but you know Aemond is not in the right place to give in to your urges. Instead, you reach to remove his hand from his face after breaking the kiss. 

“Don’t hide yourself from me, baby.” You kiss him this time, letting him slowly relax and get comfortable. He kisses you back, and finally, his pain subsides.

“This is— wow!”

You look around as Aemond drives through the gates of the country club, his free hand mindlessly caressing your thigh. It is a shock that he decided to drive at nighttime, as he mostly lets someone else do the driving at such an hour, but you can sense his nervousness grow with each passing second.

“I know, it’s fucking huge,” he mumbles, rounding the steering wheel as he drives to the parking, stopping the car in front of the doorman. “Good evening, sir.”

“Good evening, Mr. Targaryen.” The man nods at Aemond and you, opening the door for him before he is handed the keys to the car.

You watch Aemond walk towards you, opening the door for you before he realizes his mother is right behind his car, stepping out of the SUV with Cole’s help. You pat his shoulder, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before putting some distance between the two of you, waiting for others to join you and him.

“It’s gorgeous,” you exclaim, looking at the entrance of the building; just as Aemond said, the building itself is huge, but the area leading to it is just as beautiful and wide. You loop hands with Helaena as the group walks upstairs towards the door. “How come we have never come here?”

“Well… Viserys comes here nearly every week. I think Mum didn’t wanna see him at all,” she shrugs. “Anyway, his first wife was obsessed with this place. Not gonna lie, there is a huge portrait of her somewhere in the dining hall… used to make Mum so sad when she caught him staring at her more than glancing at her.”

“Wow, what a piece of shit.” You grimace, giving her an apologetic smile. “Sorry, babe, he’s just… an ass.”

“Don’t worry, no one hates him more than your boyfriend,” she whispers, and you let out a sad chuckle, knowing how much damage he has done to Aemond.

“I might though,” you squeeze her arms, watching as some people open the door for you. “I wanna curse him for hurting my best friend and my man.”

“Oooh, since when?”

“Since the day we fucked—“

“Forget I fucking asked.” She slaps your shoulder playfully, dragging you inside the building. “Welcome to the Targaryen country club!”

“It’s a shame how I’ve never been here,” Helaena rolls her eyes, “but thank you. This is more than I can ever dream of.”

“Alright, we’ve got two days before Aemond’s birthday! Sleep well tonight, and tomorrow, I’m sure you’ll enjoy your stay here,” Alicent says and kisses all of you goodnight, and Criston follows her towards the room.

“So, lovers,” Aegon starts, wrapping an arm around Aemond’s shoulders even though he has a hard time reaching his height, “you gonna share a room orrrr—“

“I’m gonna show her around,” Aemond extends his hand for you to take, and you let go of Helaena to reach for him, letting him pull you in his arms as he shrugs Aegon off of him, “and you better shut your mouth about this.”

“I saw nothing,” Aegon throws his hands up, looking at Daeron and Hel, who just nod and shoo you away. “Have fun!”

“They are annoying,” he sighs as he pulls you away from them, walking through the large room with portraits hanging off the wall, leading you to the door which opens to the paths ending with tennis courts, a large swimming pool and a lake nearby.

“How are you feeling?” you ask him, wrapping your arms around his torso, resting your head on his chest. “Are you excited for your chic birthday?”

“Hmmm.” He rests his chin on top of your head as you both walk between the tennis courts. “Not really, at least I have you here. That’s something I look forward to.”

“I’m glad I’m here too.” You reach a path that’s decorated with willow and other trees, leading to a large golf area. “I like it when I’m with you, I feel… I feel like I can breathe.”

“That’s an exaggeration,” Aemond chuckles, kissing the crown of your head, “but I feel the same. There are moments I think I am a better person when I’m around you; less stoic, less uptight.”

“Nope nope, it’s my turn to tell you about how I feel.” You pull away from his embrace, grabbing his hand to step off of the path and walk between the trees. “I’ve never been in a relationship that allows me to be free this much. There’s always been a leash on me and my interests, and to be fair, I’ve never dated someone younger than me.”

“Why the sudden doubt in our age gap?” Aemond asks, a shuddering smile on his face. “Does it bother you?”

“What?” You turn around immediately to look at him, sighing before reaching to cup his face. “No, no, of course not! It’s actually something that crossed my mind a second ago. Two years is nothing, especially when I feel so safe and appreciated when I’m by your side.”

“I just— it’s difficult,” he sighs and rests his hands on your hips. “For me, not-not you. I… I think about how things would have turned out if I was never dumped. I’d never find something more than a friend in you.”

“It’s difficult for me, too.” You caress his cheeks. “This feeling… isn’t meant to be easy. It feels right, I mean what we have is right, despite the odds. You’re fresh out of a relationship that lasted so long, and I’ve been your sister’s friend for so long. It’s kind of sad that if your ex didn’t run away, I wouldn’t be able to even kiss you. That makes me so fucking emotional.”

“Yeah, the heartbreak is still there inside me, somewhere I can’t really reach but I feel it somewhere, more than I’d like to admit. Not because I think about Alys, no, but… did I really deserve that? I absolutely adore you, I can’t put it into words, but I’m lucky to find something—someone worth risking my life for.”

“You don’t know it yet, but you have a tendency to make me melt with your words. It’s annoying, really, how impactful you are.” You make him chuckle, and he dips his head down to kiss you quickly. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Why are your Mum and Grandpa against our relationship?”

“Well,” he clears his throat, his grip tightening on your hips, “I know Mum loves you, and she’ll approve. No doubt about her, but Otto… well… he cares about our reputation so much. After the wedding, he’s been reaching out to us nonstop. He wants to make sure the world, or specifically, Rhaenyra and Viserys, know that we are in good shape. Me getting into a public relationship is just… so soon.”

“I understand… okay, so you don’t wanna tell others just yet, right?” You lean back on one of the trees, wrapping your arms around Aemond’s neck. “I was curious, I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable—“

“Hey, no, absolutely not.” He steals a quick kiss from you, caging you with one hand on the tree and the other on your waist. “I’m glad you asked me. I don’t want you to think I’m keeping you hidden from everyone. I’m proud to be with you, and I would show you off to the world the moment I could.”

“Alright, I’ll keep my hands to myself.” You giggle when he nudges his nose against yours. “I wanted to also let you know that your father and sister might join us here.”

You see how he visibly tenses, jaw clenching as he thinks about the last time he saw them — the failed wedding. 

“Whatever,” he says through gritted teeth, pulling away from you to take a deep breath, his hands on his hips as he looks up at the sky.

“Aemond, I tried to say something so your Mum would kind of ditch them, but—“

“I know, I know, don’t worry.” He is quick in reassuring you that he knows why they might show up. “Nothing we can do about it now.”

“Come, I wanna spend one night without anyone bothering us,” you say and he agrees, intertwining your fingers as you both walk inside the building, enjoying a quiet night together.

“All I’m saying is that tea is the solution to all of your problems!” Helaena says, crossing her legs as she sips on her morning tea. The sun shines at the grounds of the country club, and Hel’s suggestion to have breakfast in one of the many balconies is extraordinary.

“Bold of you to say that in front of a coffee person,” you reply and reach for your cup. “Also, thank you so much for packing these clothes! I had no idea I owned them.”

“Well, I can't let my bestie stay in our cultural country club without aesthetic clothes—oh, good morning birthday boy!”

“It’s not my birthday yet.” Aemond appears behind you, kissing the top of your head. “Morning, darling.”

“Hi, handsome.” He bends down to kiss you slowly, making Helaena gag once more. “Why do you look so disgusted? You’re not a virgin, I’m sure.”

“Yeah, well, maybe because I grew up with her and you at the same time. And I’m older than both of you and single. Do you see how horrible I must be feeling?” 

“Cut the crap, Hel, I know you’ve been in a very, very steamy friendship with the Stark boy. You ain’t fooling no one.” She turns to you, gawking at you while her cheeks get covered in crimson red, blushing as she looks down at her tea. “Besides, he is hot—“

“I beg your pardon?” Aemond says, frowning at you and you are quick to chuckle and pull him down again, kissing him languidly. “I’m just trying to make her feel better. No one is near as hot as you are, Little Nerd. You are my one and only.”

“Alright, alright, we get it, now sit and eat something. Mum said something about guests coming over today,” Helaena says, and you watch how Aemond’s smile fades slowly. He nods silently and sits down in front of you, taking a sip from the coffee he is sure you made for him as he grows quiet.

“Aemond…” Helaena reaches and squeezes his shoulder. “I know how you feel about them, fucking hell, even I don’t want them around, but it is what it is. Just—I’m begging you, don’t make a scene.”

“As if the last time they didn’t provoke me.” He taps his foot on the ground, sipping on his drink before he sighs and pats his sister’s hand. “I won’t talk to them, don’t worry.”

“I’m worried about you, not them, sweet brother.” She smiles at him sympathetically. “They have the tendency to get under everyone’s skin.”

“Not yours though.” Aemond grabs your hand and caresses your knuckles while he talks to Helaena. “You seem to like them anyway.”

“Right, because I danced one time with Jace shows how much I adore them—“

“You had Aegon vibrating in his seat from anger.”

“Protective much?” you comment, and Aemond shrugs but matches your teasing smirk. “Is it a quality in Targaryen men? Should I be worried?”

“Yeah, if you’d like me to not go to jail.” Helaena scoffs at him, and he continues, “I’d probably kill the man if they lay a hand on you.”

“That’s so fucking hot, but please don’t kill anyone, I need you around.” You lean forward to capture his lips in a kiss like you always do, but pull away quickly so Helaena can have a peaceful moment. “Who are your guests anyway? Besides your father and sister.”

“Grandpa will be here too. Daemon, I think? Oh, and there is a good chance Uncle Gwayne will join us tomorrow!” Helaena explains.

“It doesn’t matter, because I’m gonna take you away from these people the moment we are done saying hi.”

“How charming, Aemond.” You grin at him, hearing the sounds of Aegon’s quick steps reaching the balcony.

“Morning, morning.” Aegon bows dramatically. “Anyway, our precious, most gracious guests have arrived. You won’t believe how horrendous Viserys looks. It’s like a snake has been eating him inside out, it’s fucking creepy.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t say that about our father, Egg.” Helaena stands up and helps you up too, looking between you and Aemond. “Don’t give them a reason to make our lives a living hell. You can disappear when we go outside, yeah? Just not now— and you! Keep your hands to yourself.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Aemond nods and with one last reassuring smile, you all step off the balcony, and you watch how Aemond’s walls are back up as he walks downstairs; his face is stoic, emotionless as if he wasn’t grinning a second ago. He walks with his hands locked behind his back, his shoulders rolled back and chin held high. You can see no trace of emotion in him anymore.

“There they are,” Alicent says, her voice soft and welcoming, but everyone can feel the discomfort under it. “Morning, my loves. Come, let us—“

“Yeah, yeah, thank you.” With a wave of a hand, Viserys dismisses the group entirely, limping towards the dining hall with his cane.

“I apologize, Father is really not doing well,” Rhaenyra tells Alicent, a polite smile on her face. “He is more weary than ever. I hope you understand.”

“He could have said a normal hello, couldn’t he?” Aegon sneers, leaning against the wall as he watches everyone.

“Aegon, please.” Alicent looks at her oldest, and once you look down, you see how her nails are bloody and raw from being picked at. “I hope you enjoy your stay here.”

“We will, thank you.” Rhaenyra glances at Helaena, giving her a small smile, before she looks at Aemond. “It is nice to see you well, brother. The marriage stunt was pretty horrible. I’m glad you are well enough to host a party.”

“Yeah, one would think two months after a horrible breakup, he would be in ruins.” Daemon’s booming voice echoes in the hall, and your arm tightens around Helaena’s as you watch how he smirks, his and Rhaenyra’s kids coming into view shortly. “The bridesmaid is here too, I see. You have got good company, nephew.”

“I do,” Aemond replies with the coldest voice you have ever heard from him. You watch him breathe softly, masking his feelings easily, but he is an open book to you; he is nervous, a bit angry, and the tension in his jaw and shoulders are evident.

“It’s nice seeing you again, Mr. Targaryen,” you say quickly, not really thrilled with how Daemon gives you an overall look, his smirk widening as he chuckles.

“Yes, yes, very nice,” he looks at Rhaenyra and extends his arm to her. “Shall we, niece?”

“Of course,” Rhaenyra answers and looks at Alicent. “We will not be joining you for lunch. I wish to show the kids around.”

“Make yourself at home.” Alicent nods politely, glaring at Argon before she sighs and reaches to grab Aemond’s arm. “Darling, don’t listen to them, alright?”

“Yes, Mum,” he nods, his fingers fidgeting behind his back. “Don’t worry.”

“Wow, Helaena, you are glowing.” Jace, you remember Hel telling you about him, approaches the two of you. “You look resilient—“

“Back off,” Aegon snaps, pushing himself off the wall, but Daeron is quick to wrap his arm around Aegon’s shoulders to keep him away from his nephew.

“Thank you, Jacaerys,” Helaena responds politely, but grins when she sees her cousins. “I’ve missed you two!”

Baela and Rhaena step forward, and your best friend lets go of your arm to hug the twins.

You glance at Aemond, finding him staring at his nephews while they greet him not-so-enthusiastically, and you take the chance to step in and comfort him with just having his back.

“Hi, I’m Helaena’s friend.” You shake Jace’s hand, but when you see his younger nephew smirking a bit too maliciously, you back off and stand next to Aemond.

“Yeah, I think I remember you!” Jace exclaims, smiling politely as he tries to engage in a conversation with Aemond, but he only replies with low hums and nods.

“I remember you too! At my uncle’s wedding, right?” The younger one whose name you do not remember says, reaching to shake your hand. “Lucerys, pleasure to meet you.”

“Nice to see you.” You give him an awkward smile, remembering that he was the one who got into a fight with Aemond when they were kids, sighing when the images of that night play in your mind.

“Babe! Come, come, meet Baela and Rhaena!” You pat Aemond’s arm, lovingly mumbling a quick ‘later’ before you walk towards Hel and hug the twins quickly, enjoying how spiritual they are.

“How about we go and take a quick walk around the building? Maybe we can settle for a game or two!” Daeron says, clapping his hand as he tries to break the tension between his siblings and nephews. 

“I’m gonna go for a ride,” Aemond announces, moving away without waiting for any response, but stops and looks at you. “Have you seen our stables?”

“The stables?” you ask quietly, and when Aegon nudges you from behind, you catch up on Aemond’s thoughts, biting the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from grinning. “No! No, I haven’t! I would love to though!”

“Alright, let’s go.” Aemond walks upstairs, and with an apology you bolt upstairs, following Aemond to his room so he can change, but he stops you and kisses you quickly when you are out of sight. “Wait here, we don’t want anyone to be suspicious, yeah? I’ll be out in a second.”

“Okay.” You peck his lips again before pushing him inside the room gently. “Go, go, can’t wait to see you in your riding clothes!”

He only winks and smiles, shutting the door. He changes into his riding leather pants and black shirt, pulling on his knee high boots before he ties his hair in a ponytail.

“Fuck me.” You eye him when he steps out, biting your lip as you rest your palms on his chest, running them down his body as you ogle at his tight pants, enjoying how delicious he looks in his riding clothes. “Why have you been hiding this from me, handsome?”

“Because I knew how much of a pervert you are, darling.” You notice how less nervous he is now, and you kiss his jaw, pressing yourself against him as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“Glad you are aware of how much I like to fuck you, because right now, nothing seems as wonderful as making you hard in these clothes.”

“You’re a fucking tease,” he groans against your lips. “Stop torturing me.”

“Never. Now come on, I believe you owe me a tour of the stables!” you say, letting him pull you downstairs by the hand, looking around to see if someone is around before he leads you to another path. You walk in a comfortable silence, enjoying the warmth of the sun on your face as you walk hand in hand.

“This is my other lady,” he tells you as you walk through the stable, stopping in front of a black mare, running his palm over its long neck. “She doesn’t have a name, unfortunately. Nothing fits her.”

“She’s gorgeous.” He reaches for your hand, gently placing it on the mare’s back, rubbing it softly. “Will you bring her out now?”

“Would you like me to?”

“I would love it very much!” You step aside as Aemond pushes the wooden door open, grabbing his horse’s reins to guide her outside the stables, and you follow him, watching as he mounts the black mare, and bolts his horse to the field. Someone opens the fence for him and he rides through it.

You rest your hands on the fence, smiling at the sight of him rounding the field with his horse, sun shining bright on his silver hair, casting an angelic glow on his face. “You’re doing amazing, sweetie!” 

He smiles at you, stopping in front of you before he points for you to hop over the fence and you do hesitantly, stepping next to his horse.

“Come on, ride with me.” He reaches for your hand, pulling you up with ease, making room to help you sit in front of him. “I remember how scared you were the first time you caught me in our old stables.”

“Please, don’t remind me!” you laugh, throwing your head back on his shoulder. “It was horrendous! I nearly let your father’s stallion stomp on me.”

“Yeah, well, I saved you, so you can thank me for that,” he whispers in your ear, kissing the side of your neck. “Do you wanna step down? I feel you shaking.”

“I’m shaking because the amount of affection I have for you is too intense.” You crane your neck to look at him, and he pulls on the reins to stop the horse as he looks down at you.

“How bad is this affection?”

“So bad that I wanna kiss you in front of everyone.” He leans down, resting his forehead on yours. “Maybe later, yeah?”

“Yeah, you handsome idiot, now kiss me when no one is watching.”

He does kiss you, but unbeknownst to you, there is someone watching.

[junislqve]

TOUCH / clingy boyfriend

enhypen ｡｡ when your boyfriend is clingy

n : f!r / 1082 𝑤𝘰𝑟𝑑𝑠 . . . 𝓬 — 𝗈𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍 ⨾ kissing skinship fluff ⟢ 𝖼𝖺𝗍𝖺𝗅𝘰𝗀𝗎𝖾

( 𝗋𝖾𝖻𝗅𝘰𝗀𝗌 ♥︎ 𝖼𝗅𝑖𝖼𝗄 )

LEE HEESEUNG

“i want you to stay here forever”

you both were lounging on the couch, once again watching the notebook. almost like a tradition at this point.

heeseung couldn’t even bring himself to complain about how boring it was, catching himself watching the way you’d marvel at how great the movie was for the nth time. his eyes roaming over your face, imprinting every detail in its wake.

subconsciously, heeseung’s figure leans against yours, his hand coming up to cup your face. in the midst of confusion you turn your head towards him, the ghost of a smile on your lips.

heeseung, who’s spent the whole movie trying to catch your attention, finds himself flustered from holding your adoring gaze. burying his head on your shoulder right after, trying to hide the big smile and blushing ears. his hands sliding down to rest at your waist comfortably.

“just stay here for a moment” hee mumbles, feeling your body shift, his arms tightening slightly around your hips.

PARK JONGSEONG

“20 more minutes”

that was the cycle you and your boyfriend has been in for the past half hour. earlier you told him you had plans with a few friends. he seemed to be fine hours ago but just by the hour mark when you had to start getting ready, the way he held you and the way his eyes settled on you really made you rethink.

“i have to get ready” you state, attempting to pull away from the grip.

“why do you have to go today? why not tomorrow.” he whines, his arm sliding around your waist for a steadier grip. face burying just by the slope of your neck, his warm breath fanning the spot just below your ear.

you just realized how close he was to you.

“jay..”

placing a soft, but firm kiss to the shell of your ear, he whispers, “please, baby”

SIM JAEYUN

you didn’t know what to do.

standing around in a function your friend dragged you to just to end up sitting alone at a table was not ideal. especially when you’d rather be doing other things right now like being at home with your boyfriend.

unfortunately, you were stuck here and he was stuck in another city with his friends so you had no excuse to avoid the event this time.

“how’s busan?” you asked your boyfriend through the phone.

“oh you know, it’s quite fun here. how about you? didn’t you say you’re going to an event with gigi?”

“yeah, i’m at it right now, we were just talking to someone a few minutes ago. it’s really fun!” you lied, but if you didn’t he would’ve nagged. so there was really no better option.

“really? you don’t seem like you’re having fun” that call came from just by your ear. and not the one covered by your phone. turning around, your boyfriend was adorned in a slick suit, his head tilted playfully. “missed me?”

PARK SUNGHOON

“hello?” you picked up the phone, your voice raspy and half awake.

“babe, i found this new game we could try out later” you immediately recognized the voice even through your state.

“hoon?”

“yes, baby?”

you stay silent. the words died down in your mouth at how softly he spoke the petname. you knew he’s had an abnormal sleep schedule, due to tiring schedules and other hindrance.

he’s spoke to you about it (although with enough convincing) and you promised to let him annoy you at whatever time of the night it was. he wouldn’t tell you why, but the excitement in his eyes made you regret nothing.

so you smile, “what was the game-“

“i love your voice” your boyfriend blurt.

at your increased silence, sunghoon hurried to explain himself.

“i didn’t know how to tell you back then, but i really like your voice. it puts me to sleep… and i’m sorry for waking you up every night for the past week, it’s just.. you sound really cute sleepy.”

well, now you were definitely awake.

KIM SUNOO

“don’t you have a meeting to attend to?”

just about two hours ago you met up with your boyfriend, just to pick up your cat from his flat. barely interacting enough, unfortunately your schedule was packed and you had a class soon.

he told you he had a meeting when you said you’d come back to his apartment after class, so you both had to wait until tomorrow in hopes your schedules won’t clash again.

but now here he stood just beside you, casually browsing the lettuce aisle in the supermarket after grabbing your shopping cart from behind.

he looked back at you, as you stood there looking dumbfounded at him.

“what? i have my priorities”

YANG JUNGWON

lazy mornings are your favorite. okay, well, lazy saturday mornings are heaven. waking up to your sleepy boyfriend and cooking up a small breakfast for yourself. it was a great feeling.

to add to that, your boyfriend sneaking up behind you from the back. maybe that was what perfectly described heaven.

“you smell good” your boyfriend hummed, arms tight around your waist, chin propped on your shoulder.

“good morning to you, too” you chuckle. “what do you want for breakfast? we should go to that-“

“can we sleep in today?” he mumbled lazily, already starting to drag you back to the bedroom, “just wanna be with you right now” he rasps.

NISHIMURA RIKI

“come on, my hands are cold”

you didn’t get it. didn’t understand how often his hands had gotten cold throughout the entire night and why.

he’s asked you to hold his hands before dinner and you just assumed he was really cold, but really it was only september and there was barely a chill to the weather.

“it’s not even cold out” you reply and look back once you realize your boyfriend was not by your side. a pout lined his lips, he resembled a duck, really. which in turn made you chuckle at how adorable he looked right now.

the little steps he took to finally get to you, and the way he intertwined his hands to yours once he was a distance away from you. all of it made you involuntarily smile.

“your hands are just warm, i guess” he adds, looking away. when you chuckle and rub his knuckles, continuing to skip down the road, you missed the way his eyes looked at you and maybe the way his ears went red too.

juni : how we feel about the new layout? i’ve got a few more posts ready for you all, and a new posting schedule as well yay!

[itneverendshere]

you going to jj’s little graduation, and you’re giving proud mom. even if he’s towering over you in his cap, and you’re pinching his cheeks, and as always rafes in awe of how much of natural caretaker

i'm a sucker for these three dynamic 😭😭😭😭 so i also added a little kie bc jj deserves all the teasing in the world after he made rafe's life miserable the past year🤭 hope you enjoy!🩵🫂

you've got no reason to be afraid - r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe)

Rafe never wanted to go to this thing.

No, really. It wasn’t even one of those "I don’t wanna go, but deep down I actually care" moments. He genuinely didn’t want to show up.

Because honestly, why the hell was he going to JJ Maybank's graduation?

You dragged him here, and yeah, he was pretending to hate it every second of it, but...okay, maybe he was…a little proud of the guy for making it out alive. Sue him.

You’re buzzing around like a proud mom, and it’s almost hard to look at. Not because it’s annoying—okay, maybe it’s a little annoying—but more because it’s… god, he doesn’t even know. It’s just you.

You can’t help it. The whole natural caretaker thing, how you swoop in and take care of people like you’re born to do it. 

Rafe’s leaning against the wall while you’re annoying JJ, pinching his cheeks like he's still that scrappy little kid you saved from his old man’s rage. His stupid graduation cap keeps sliding off his head, and every time you fix it, he grins like an idiot.

The guy's taller than you, but it’s almost like it doesn’t matter. 

"You’re not gonna cry, are you?" JJ teases, standing there in his cap and gown like some kinda of scholar. It's hard to take it seriously, to be honest. 

You roll your eyes at him, "Shut up, Maybank. I’m allowed to be proud of you." You reach up again, smoothing down the collar of his gown, and it hits Rafe how much you care about this. 

He crosses his arms tighter over his chest, trying his best not to look too invested in the scene playing out in front of him. You’re still fussing over JJ, like some proud older sister at her little brother’s first big milestone, and Rafe… well, he’s trying not to roll his eyes for the third time in five minutes.

He pushes off the wall, just enough to glance at his phone, scrolling through his notifications to look busy, like he’s not watching this whole thing happen. He catches a glimpse of you laughing—JJ making some dumb joke about how he can’t believe he even graduated in the first place.

He didn’t get it at first. How could someone who’s been through what you’ve been through still have the energy to care about people like this?

Especially about someone like JJ? The scrappy, no-good kid from The Cut who spent more time getting into fights and drinking than actually passing his classes. But that’s the thing about you—you never gave up on people, even when everyone else had.

"You’re staring," you tease, glancing back at him with a grin, breaking his train of thought. "You okay over there, baby?"

Rafe straightens up, wiping the expression off his face before you can see too much. He’s quick to shrug, playing it off like he’s too cool to care about whatever’s going on. "Yeah, I’m fine," he mutters, locking his phone and slipping it back in his pocket. "Just wondering how long this is gonna take."

"Uh-huh." You’re not buying it for a second, but you let it slide. You know him better than anyone else, after all, “Get your ass here. We’re taking a picture.”

He sighs, letting out a dramatic huff like this is the worst thing he’s ever been asked to do. "You serious?" he groans, but he’s already pushing himself off the wall and walking over to where you’re standing with JJ.

“Dead serious,” you shoot back, giving him that look—the one that always gets him to do what you want, even when he’s trying to act like he’s above it.

JJ’s got that shit-eating grin on his face, the one that says he knows Rafe’s just playing tough. He slings an arm over your shoulders like it’s the most natural thing in the world, and Rafe’s eyes narrow, his possessiveness showing before he can even stop himself.

“Relaaaax, man,” JJ teases, catching the look. “You’re gonna burst a vein.”

He rolls his eyes but steps closer, standing right beside you as you hand your phone to some random kid to take the picture. The three of you huddle together and you pull Rafe in by his shirt, snuggling into his side like you always do, and despite himself, he can’t help the small smile that tugs at his lips. Not enough for anyone else to notice—he’s too stubborn for that—but you feel it.

You always do.

The camera clicks, and just like that, the moment’s captured—JJ in his stupid graduation gear, you looking like a proud mom, and Rafe standing there like he’s not sure how he ended up a part of this weird little family, but maybe, just maybe, he’s okay with it.

“Alright, picture’s done. Can we leave now?” Rafe grumbles, already half-turned toward the parking lot.

You step in front of him to block his way. “Oh no, you’re not getting off that easy. We’re going to the party.” Your voice has that no-nonsense tone, the one that makes him groan because he knows you mean business.

JJ laughs again, clapping Rafe on the back. “C’mon, man. You can survive a couple hours with us. Plus, there’s free beer.”

He arches a brow. “Free beer?”

“Yep. Keg’s already set up back at John B’s place,” JJ says, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Fine,” Rafe groans, but he doesn’t actually mind. Not when you’re looking at him like that—like he’s the only thing you want standing next to you, even if it’s at some ridiculous party in the Cut. In his little sister’s boyfriends house of all places. Sarah and John B’s on-again, off-again thing is enough drama for one lifetime.

 “But I’m not carrying your ass home when you get shitfaced.”

JJ smirks, patting his gown. “I’ll be fine, man. I graduated today. I’m an adult now.”

Rafe snorts. “Yeah, we’ll see how long that lasts.”

You’re already pulling Rafe toward the car, glancing back at JJ with a grin. “Come on. Let’s celebrate while you still have time to pretend you’re responsible.”

JJ’s talking a mile a minute, the entire drive, from the backseat, already planning out how he’s going to "run the party" and bragging about the free booze like it’s the highlight of his life. Rafe tunes most of it out, too focused on you, the warmth of your hand lingering even after you’ve let go. By the time you pull up to John B’s place, the sun’s starting to set and the yard is already half full with the Pogues. Kie’s there, Sarah too, probably.

You park, and before Rafe can even make a move, JJ’s already jumped out, tossing his cap onto the grass as he heads toward the keg. "Let’s get this party started bitches!" he shouts, and the small crowd cheers in response.

Great.

He climbs out of the car, walking around to meet you on the driver’s side. “You sure about this?” he asks, glancing toward the crowd. He’s not exactly best friends with these guys, and parties in the Cut… well, they’re not really his scene.

But you smile up at him, reaching for his hand and threading your fingers through his. "Yeah, I’m sure. You’ll survive, baby.”

He huffs, but when you start pulling him toward the party, he lets you. He always lets you. You weave your way through the small crowd of pogues, most of whom nod or wave at him but don’t bother trying to talk to him. 

You glance back, grinning as you lead the way toward the makeshift party area. “You’re not gonna hide in the corner the whole time, are you?” you tease, giving his hand a playful squeeze.

Rafe rolls his eyes but follows you, his free hand shoving into his pocket. “No promises,” he says, though a small part of him is already resigning to the fact that you’re probably going to drag him into the middle of everything by the end of the night.

Everything's already in full swing by the time you both find a spot near the keg. JJ’s surrounded by a group of people, handing out beers like it’s his personal mission to get everyone drunk. John B and Sarah are off to the side, leaning against the porch railing, sharing a laugh. Disgusting.

You flash him a smile before heading off to grab drinks, leaving him standing awkwardly near the keg, trying his best to avoid making eye contact with anyone.

He’s mid-scroll on his phone again when he hears JJ’s voice call out, “Yo, Rafe!”

Rafe glances up, already preparing himself for whatever shit JJ’s about to throw his way.

“Don’t tell me you’re just gonna stand there like some grumpy old man. You’re at my graduation party, man! You gotta at least try to have fun.” JJ’s grinning from ear to ear, clearly already a few beers in.

Rafe snorts, shaking his head. “I’m here, aren’t I? That’s gotta count for something.”

JJ laughs, clapping him on the shoulder. “Yeah, yeah. You’re right. Just didn’t think I’d see Rafe Cameron at a pogue party, y'know?”

“Don’t make me punch you in the face."

JJ grins again, but there’s something a little more genuine in his expression this time. “For real though, man. Thanks for coming. I know this isn’t your scene.”

Rafe’s about to answer with his usual sarcasm, but he catches the sincerity in JJ’s tone and decides to let it slide. He nods, his voice gruff as he says, “Yeah. Congrats, Maybank. You deserve it.”

JJ’s grin widens, and he raises his beer in a mock toast. “Thanks, man. Appreciate it.”

Before he can say anything else, you’re back with two beers in hand, nudging one toward him. “Here you go. Now you’ve got no excuse to look so miserable.”

Rafe takes the beer from you with a half-smirk, but his eyes are soft as he glances down at you. “I don’t look miserable.”

You raise an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. “Sure.”

He chuckles, taking a sip of his beer. It’s cheap, of course, and not exactly his taste, but he doesn’t complain. Not when you’re standing so close, looking up at him like you can see right through all his bullshit. He watches you for a moment, the way you light up around these people, the way you float between them like you’re the glue holding everyone together does something to his heart.

Rafe leans back, his arm draped loosely around your waist as you chat with Kie and JJ, laughing at some dumb story JJ’s telling about getting caught sneaking into class late one too many times. He can’t help but wonder how you do it. The nights you spent bailing JJ out when his dad got too wasted and violent. How you’d sneak him into your place, covering up the bruises and making sure he had somewhere to crash for the night.

“Hey,” your voice pulls him out of his thoughts. “You okay? You’re staring again.”

Rafe blinks, realizing he’s been zoning out, watching you again. “Yeah,” he mutters, clearing his throat. “Just thinking.”

You tilt your head, curiosity flickering in your eyes. “About?”

“How much I love you.”

JJ gags, “Shut the fuck up.”

Kie slaps him in the back, “Shut up, it’s cute.”

Rafe lets out a low chuckle, glancing over at JJ. "Jealous, Maybank?"

JJ takes a long swig of his beer, rolling his eyes dramatically. “Oh, please. I’m not jealous of your sappy shit.”

“Sure you’re not,” He drawls, leaning back with a smirk. “Not like you’ve been drooling over Kie all year or anythin’.”

Kie’s eyes widen, her face flushing just enough to make it obvious, “What the hell are you talking about?” She shoots Rafe a glare, but there’s no real venom behind it.

His grin only widens. “Oh, come on. You think I haven’t noticed? You two have been dancing around each other for what, months now?”

JJ chokes on his beer, coughing. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. That’s not—”

But Rafe’s not letting up. He’s enjoying this way too much. “Dude, just admit it. You’ve been into her forever, and honestly, we’re all sick of watching you act like you don’t.”

Kie crosses her arms, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, really? You’re sick of it?”

“Yeah,” Rafe deadpans, “Everyone knows. Hell, even John B probably knows, and that guy’s oblivious to everything except Sarah.”

JJ groans, rubbing his hand over his face. “You’re seriously gonna make this about me?”

“Yep,” Rafe grins, “Payback’s a bitch, huh?”

He knows Rafe’s just messing with him. He’s been down bad for Kie for as long as he can remember, but every time he gets close, something stops him. The friendship, the fear of messing it up, maybe just the fact that he doesn’t think he deserves her. Rafe’s seen it all before.

Kie, for her part, just rolls her eyes. “Boys are so fucking dumb.”

You laugh, nudging Rafe in the ribs. “Stop torturing him. It’s his big day.”

Rafe huffs, a smirk still playing on his lips. “I’m just saying, if I had to deal with all the crap about you and me, it’s only fair he gets his turn.”

“Yeah, well, maybe JJ needs a little push,” you glance between the two of them. “You gonna make a move, Maybank? Or you planning on dragging this out for another year?”

JJ looks at you, then at Kie, then back at Rafe, who’s clearly enjoying every second of this. “You guys suck,” he mutters, grabbing another beer and stalking off toward the keg, leaving Kie standing there, cheeks still a little red, though she’s doing her best to look unbothered.

Rafe watches him go, then turns back to Kie. “He’s a mess, but you already know that.”

Kie sighs, shaking her head. “Yeah, I do.” Her voice softens,“But he’s my mess, I guess.”

You smile, giving Kie a knowing look. “Took you long enough to admit it.”

Kie glares at you playfully, but there’s no hiding the tiny smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Oh, shut up.”

[cinematicreid]

for a moment

the one where Spencer reminds reader to slow down.

wc 651

warnings + the rundown: bau!reader, fluff, soft!spencer, i love him, literally can’t live without him, what a sweetheart, mentions of reader getting shot, but nothing explicit, feelings!, yikes!

a/n: can’t beat short and sweet and cutesy. feedback always welcome, come say hi to me i think you’re all so cool!

~

Spencer’s eyes may as well have laser beams shooting out of them with the way his gaze is glued to you. You attempt to focus on the task at hand, securing the Kevlar vest to the upper half of your body and completely ignoring him. But this has been happening for almost two months, ever since your incident, and you can’t take it anymore.

“Give it a rest, Spencer, you’re driving me crazy.”

“I know! I’m sorry, just — will you please let me —”

You let out a huff of exasperation, giving up.

“For fuck’s sake,” you mumble, and then more loudly, “Fine.”

Your hands fall to your sides in surrender as he quickly moves toward you and reaches for the vest’s fasteners.

A child. He’s making you feel like a child.

You hear Morgan chuckle from the other end of the police precinct’s tiny conference room, as if he can read your thoughts. You’re about to shoot him a death glare when you’re interrupted by Spencer sharply tugging a strap too tight.

“Reid,” you hiss.

“Don’t start,” he interjects over your complaint.

The incident in question was, of course, an accident. It wasn’t like you had intentionally put your vest on in a rush. There just hadn’t been enough time (which was not a proper excuse, as Hotch had gently but firmly reminded you later), and the loosened straps meant the vest moved around more than it should have when you were running, and the UnSub’s bullet found your side all too easy to graze.

It was stupid, really, but it was one time and nearly two months ago.

None of this was enough to ease the seemingly permanent furrow in Spencer’s brow.

It started as small, albeit irritating, reminders to double-check your vest, which you initially laughed off. But it had now escalated to taking the task entirely off your hands.

Spencer finishes with a final tug.

“Happy?” you ask him flatly. He lifts his concentrated gaze to meet your annoyed one.

“I could do without the sass. But yes,” he says, his shoulders visibly lighter and more content.

“It’s like watching a dad get his daughter ready for Take Your Kid To Work Day,” Morgan teases, rushing out of the room before you can hit him with the closest object at your disposal and leaving just you and Spencer. He rolls his eyes at the poor joke and gently takes said object from your hand.

“I don’t think a pen is going to do much damage,” he says. He loosens a sigh. “I’m sorry.”

You regard him for a few seconds, a small part of you melting at the undeniable softness in his eyes, which are so vast and deep you could stay there forever.

You get it.

It’s the thing about this job. How it forces an eternity to become temporary. How, in 20 minutes, you’ll be hunting down the bad guy but for now, what can feel like forever if you wanted, you’re only here with Spencer.

It’s all fleeting. Your little “incident” had only served as a reminder of that.

And so, Spencer had to take care of you in this way. You both knew that.

“You don’t need to be,” you offer him. He avoids your gaze and you nudge his shoulder with your hand. “Spencer, I’m here, yeah?” That earns you a gentle nudge back and the hint of a smile.

“I know. I’m here, too.”

And here is everywhere and nowhere and, perhaps most importantly, together. A beat, or maybe a forever passes before he speaks again.

“If this were Take Your Kid To Work Day I’d be the worst father in the world.”

Just like that, he’s back and you’re back with him.

Fleeting.

“I am so getting him back for that,” you mumble, making your way to the door. Spencer’s laugh as he follows behind you is all you can hear.

[bomber-grl]

Deku Dating hc!! ୨ৎ

Pairing(s): Izuku Midoriya x Gn!Reader

Creds ~ first divider: @/khaer 2nd divider: @/strangergraphics-archive Art: @/xuune/kaiihuna or @/_kaiihua on twt

HE IS SO FLUSTERED OMG

Not even an exaggeration, the moment you confessed it was like blud went into cardiac arrest

Once he regained his wits he reciprocated your feelings all in a couple of stutters and accidental muttering

How charming

All sarcasm aside, it really is endearing

Yknow how most of the people in class 1-A are unnecessarily weirded out by his muttering

Plus how Deku is more often than not, called names by his own fandom 💀

Well he thinks that way about himself too

Sure you get along more than just fine but seeing him apologize for being more than a little nerdy is shocking to say the least

I mean if anything his “weird” and nerdy self is literally part of his charm and you make this known

Reread that first bullet point for a hint to how he reacted to you telling him that

Anyway

It’s likely you guys met at UA

I mean it’s where he’s made the most friends at (if any) and the only reason he talked to you was either it was inevitable or he absolutely fan boy-ed over your quirk

If you guys had some sort of romantic connotation and you had to fight against each other in the sports festival he’d be pretty conflicted

Although, you’d probably not want him to hold back

If anything he’s just sorry about the whole ordeal 😭

As a boyfriend Deku is shy(?)

I mean just look at how he reacted to technically a none romantic gesture and just interaction - he’s definitely going to be flustered for the majority of you two hanging out

Overall he’s really sweet

Like genuinely it’s surprising that he’s never actually been with someone in a real relationship before

If you disagree… look at him in the beginning of the anime 😭💀)

At most he was probably jokingly asked out or asked out on a dare in the past

I do think that hero life would sort of interfere with romantic relations for you both(assuming ur attending UA)

So there’s times where meeting up or just hanging out would be difficult

But when you two can hang out- it’s really nice

You’re either going to fast food restaurants, going shopping or doing anything really-

These outings are similar in the fact that they all often end in you both fighting some villian 😭

There is this one instance where before the dorms were introduced- you and Izuku had stayed to train or clean- whatever it was at school

He got a call from inko and upon finding out you (someone he does nothing but yap about to her) were around, well, she figured she’d invite you for dinner

Queue you finally meeting Inko and if you’re nervous and want to get a gift of some kind Izuku is kind of laughing but also happy that you want to “impress” her

Even though she loves you already

When you meet inko, she’s is buzzing with as much nervous energy as Izuku is

Funny how similar they are

The dinner goes smoothly and if anything she just approves of you more

Now eventually dorms get introduced and so does sneaking around

Don’t tell me no one in class 1-a wouldn’t sneak around- they’re high schoolers and you can’t tell me they wouldn’t just want to have stereotypical sleepovers

Among those who would sneak around is you

Izuku is less likely to because he’s a bit shy and if he’s ever caught- God kill him now 😭

So ofc you end up sneaking to his room

Which sorta backfires because he loves all might and all might is just staring at you in every direction you look.

The merch is just too excessive

Even then, a sleepover is too much for him and in Izuku fashion- he gets flustered

It takes awhile for him to chill 😭

Holding hands? In the hall way?

If you manage to hold hands for 5 seconds before Iida or Bakugo mention it then you’ve got a personal best!

(Iida because he says no PDA, and bakugo cuz him and his big ass mouth always got something to say)

——————

A/n: hope u liked! ^^

[dianawinchester03]

Haircut

Series Masterlist

Summary: Dean has been getting backlash from John to cut his hair because it’s not “professional/manly” to have long hair. Y/N voiced her opinions on liking his long hair and how Dean shouldn’t listen to John’s ass. Let’s see how she reacts to Dean following his fathers orders.

Y/N and Sam 19 years old, Dean is 23 years old (Sam is away at college)

BASED ON:

The Old Testament Series.

Genesis Primis: A Supernatural Rewrite (Dean Winchester x Reader) by @dianawinchester03

💇🏻‍♂️💇🏻‍♂️💇🏻‍♂️💇🏻‍♂️💇🏻‍♂️💇🏻‍♂️💇🏻‍♂️💇🏻‍♂️💇🏻‍♂️💇🏻‍♂️💇🏻‍♂️💇🏻‍♂️💇🏻‍♂️💇🏻‍♂️💇🏻‍♂️💇🏻‍♂️💇🏻‍♂️💇🏻‍♂️

Havenwood, Georgia

•December 2002

As night falls over the small town of Havenwood, Georgia, Y/N was lounging on her bed in her room of the safehouse, flipping through her playboy magazine, a small smile on her face as she hears soft footsteps approach her room door.

A gentle knock sounds at her door. “Hey Princess, you awake?” the deep, familiar voice of Dean calls quietly from the other side of her room. “It’s open!” Y/N called out, still flipping through her magazine as she laid on her stomach.

The door slowly opened, revealing Dean as he walked inside and closed the door behind him. He smiled, his eyes lighting up as he saw her on the bed, her legs resting in the air, lazily flipping through her magazine. He walked over to the bed and plopped down onto it beside her, gently taking the magazine out of her hands and tossing it to the floor.

“What the-“ Y/N exclaimed when Dean took her magazine away from her. The clear look of despair on his face as he ran a hand through his dark blonde locks. “What’s wrong, charming?” She asked concerned, tilting her head. Dean sighed, laying beside her on the bed, his arms splayed out. "Nothin'," he grumbled, his eyes fixed on the ceiling.

“Bullshit, you don’t just come into my room unless you want me to cover for you so you can hook up with some chick or unless you got something on your mind. Now spill, asshat” She pointed out the obvious, pressing on his clear frustration as she pushed herself up to lean against the bed frame.

Dean snorted, turning his head to look at her. "Can't a guy just want to spend time with his favorite girl?" he asked, a hint of a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. Y/N gave him a tired and unimpressed look at his statement, not buying it one second. “Talk.” She said firmly, crossing her arms over her chest.

Dean grumbled under his breath, knowing there was no way he was getting out of this one. He caved in, letting out a frustrated sigh. "Fine," he muttered. "It's just...dad wants me to cut my hair. Says the long hair isn’t ‘manly’ enough” Dean groaned, sprawling his arms out on the bed.

Y/N almost shot up from the bed at his statement, she wasn’t gonna admit it, but she fucking loved the long hair on Dean, and the thought of John making him cut it pissed her off. “He said WHAT?!” She exclaimed, absolutely bewildered.

"Yeah, I know," Dean grumbled, rolling his eyes. "It's stupid, right? I mean, I like my hair the way it is, but dad..." he trailed off, frustrated. “Fuck, John” Y/N’s firm tone cut him off, “You’re a grown man, Dean. You don’t need to listen to his ass 24/7” She stated, pointing her finger at him firmly before crossing her arms over her chest, leaning back into the bedframe

Dean chuckled, shaking his head, amused by her little outburst. "I know, I know," he agreed, propping himself up on his elbows on his side to face her. "But you know how he and your dad are. They expect us to do what they say, no questions asked." Y/N rolled her eyes again, “Yeah, I know. Which is why you shouldn’t do it” She stated as if it’s obvious.

"Easier said than done, princess," Dean muttered, running a hand through his hair. "You know how stubborn dad is. Once he's set on something, it's almost impossible to change his mind."

“It’s YOUR hair, charming. If you wanna keep it, then keep it dude. I’m kinda digging the boyband look” She teased, nudging him slightly. Dean chuckled, a hint of a blush staining his cheeks at her comment. "Boyband, huh?" he said, a smirk playing on his lips. "You think I look like a member of NSYNC or something?"

“Nahhh. I’m getting a more Nick Carter vibe” She retorted, playfully ruffling his locks. Dean swatted her hand away, a mock glare on his face. "You did not just say I look like Nick Carter," he huffed, but an amused smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"I'll have you know, I look way better than that hack" he said, running a hand through his hair again, trying to maintain his feigned annoyance with her as he tried to fix the mess she made of his locks. Y/N gasped dramatically, “You take that back!” She smacked his arm.

“That man is a national treasure, you’re lucky to even be breathing the same air as him” She pointed a firm finger at Dean. Dean chuckled, holding up his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright, I take it back," he said, grinning at her feigned outrage. "Nick Carter is a national treasure, and I am not fit to be in his presence."

Y/N grinned, patting his head playfully, “Good boy” She taunted, leaning back against the bed-frame to get more comfortable. “Are you really gonna do it though?” Her tone fell more serious. Dean sighed, his playful mood from a moment ago evaporating. "I don’t know,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair again. “I mean, I don’t really want to cut it, but Dad’s been on my ass about it for weeks now.”

"He keeps saying it’s unprofessional and that it’s not how a hunter should look," he continued, his frustration returning. "But I just don’t see the big deal, you know? A long-ass mullet hasn’t stopped me from ganking monsters and kicking some major ass."

Y/N pumped her fist in the air. “Amen, brother. You’re preaching to the choir” Dean chuckled at her enthusiasm. "Yeah, I figured you'd be on my side," he said, giving her a grin. "You've never been one to follow the rules anyway."

“That’s exactly why I’m on house arrest and dad left your ass to babysit me” Y/N snorted, shaking her head. She and her father got into yet another argument recently about his asshole tendencies, so he ‘grounded’ her and left her in Georgia with Dean to babysit. As if a 19-year old girl needed a babysitter. The thought made her roll her eyes.

"Hey, I'll have you know I am a great babysitter," Dean said with a smirk, playfully knocking on the top of her head. "I make sure you're well fed, protected, and entertained, all while dealing with your dumbass."

This earned Dean a smack to the back of his head by Y/N, along with a harsh glare. "Hey, hey! I was joking!" Dean protested, rubbing the back of his head where she smacked him. He smirked at her glare, knowing she wasn't nearly as upset with him as she wanted him to believe.

“Whatever” She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Now get out” She shoved him off the bed using her hip. “I wanna watch Fast and Furious” Dean let out a groan of protest as he rolled off the bed and onto the floor with a thud. "The Fast and Furious?” he said, sounding incredulous. "Again? Isn't this like the third time you've rewatched that movie this week?"

“Shut up, Paul Walker is worth it. And you know you love it” Y/N rolled her eyes, picking up the remote to her DVR set on her nightstand. "Yeah, yeah," Dean grumbled, picking himself up off the floor and sitting on the edge of the bed. "I swear, if I have to hear you fangirl over Paul Walker again I might puke."

She raised her foot again to kick him off the bed, “Out!” She demanded, tossing a pillow at him. Dean stumbled back slightly, barely dodging the pillow being tossed at him. "Alright, alright, I'm going," he said, holding up his hands in surrender. He stood up, making his way towards the door but not before shooting her a smirk over his shoulder. "But for the record, I think Vin Diesel is way cooler."

That statement earned Dean another pillow being hauled at his head, along with Y/N pointing firmly at the door. Dean quickly ducked to avoid the pillow, a laugh escaping his lips. "Alright, I'm going, I'm going." He chuckled, walking out of the room, but not before sticking his tongue out at her playfully.

When Dean closed the door, Y/N found herself sinking into her bed, blushing profusely. As Dean closed the door behind him, he leaned against it for a moment, a small smile still on his face. He shook his head rapidly when he realized he was blushing a bit, blinking frantically before catching himself. Striding over to his room.

____________________________________________

It was now a few days later, John and F/N are still yet to return from their hunt. The house was running low on supplies, so using their emergency fraud cards, Dean went to the grocery to get some stuff for Y/N to make dinner.

As Dean pulled up to the house, he saw Y/N sitting on the front porch, smoking a cigarette. He parked the Impala and climbed out, bags of groceries in his hand, making his way up to the house. He braced himself for the inevitable reaction she was going to have to his new haircut.

She seemed to be lost in her own mind as she took a drag from her cigarette, the headphones to her Walkman tucked into her ears, the sound of Nickelback blasting through the headphone, her eyes closed as she banged her head along to the beat.

Dean chuckled at the sight of her as he approached the house, setting the bags of groceries down on the porch beside her. He then reached down, gently pulling the headphones from her ears, a smirk plastered on his face.

Y/N's eyes snapped open at the sudden absence of her music, her eyes widening in surprise as she saw Dean standing in front of her with bags of groceries. Her jaw dropped and her cigarette fell from her fingers as she took in the sight of his new haircut. He was now sporting a shorter, more neat look, a drastic change from the longer, boy band look he had previously.

Dean snickered at her reaction, his smirk widening as he took in the look on her face. "Surprise," he said, gesturing to his new haircut. He leaned against the banister, waiting for her to say something, anything.

Y/N shot up from her seat, quickly stepping on the cigarette bud with the heel of her slippers before smacking Dean. “You dumbass!” She exclaimed, grabbing the elder Winchester by his face, pulling it down to her level to examine his head.

"What the hell?" Dean exclaimed, stumbling back as Y/N suddenly shot up from her seat and began smacking him. He winced as she grabbed his face, her grip surprisingly firm as she pulled his face down to hers.

"Hey, watch the hair!" He protested, but his protests fell on deaf ears as Y/N began to examine his new haircut closely. “You barely have any more me to watch!” Y/N shot back, still holding a squirming Dean’s head between her hands. “You trusted some rando with your mane?! I should throttle you” She scoffed, finally letting go of his head.

Dean could’ve sworn he saw tears welling up in her eyes. "Hey, it's just hair," Dean said with a shrug, running a hand through his freshly-cut locks. "It'll grow back." He chuckled, trying to mask the disappointment he felt at her reaction to his new haircut. Although, he kind of knew how much she loved his long hair.

“You look amazing either way, Dean” Y/N chuckled, shaking her head. “But- the boy band look” She whined lightly with a bit of a pout. Dean chuckled, shaking his head as he saw the pout on her face. "Ah, come on, don't give me that look,” he said, gently poking her in the forehead. “I promise, it’ll grow back” He said with a small smile.

Y/N swatted his hand away playfully, shooting him a glare with no real heat behind it. “You’re lucky I don’t hate it” She scoffed, picking a few of the groceries from the porch. “Oh, so you’re saying you don’t hate it?” Dean teased, grabbing the rest of the groceries before following her into the house, a smirk on his face.

“That means you kinda like it?” Placing a hand on his forehead and pretending to swoon. Y/N snorted, rolling her eyes as they placed the groceries down on the counter. “Not hating and liking something is a very broad line” She retorted.

"But it still falls under the category of you not completely hating my new haircut," Dean pointed out with a smirk as he started to put away the groceries. "So technically, this still means you like it." Y/N mocked his words in a high pitched tone before asking, “What do you want for dinner?”

Dean chuckled at her mockery of his words, chucking a roll of paper towels at her, before answering her question. which she easily dodged. "I don't know. I picked up some stuff to make tacos."

She smiled, knowing that he loved the way she made tacos. She made them perfectly every time, just how he liked them. “And let me guess? Pie?” She mused with a knowing grin.

Dean smirked back at her, grabbing a pot from the cupboard. “Of course. Pie’s my true love.” He joked, but there was a hint of truth to his words. He did love his pie almost as much as he loved the woman standing in front of him.

Y/N chuckled and rolled her eyes at his response. "I knew that would be your answer. You're so predictable." She teased, opening up the fridge and grabbing the ingredients for their dinner. "Hey, hey, I'm not predictable," Dean protested, feigning indignation.

"I'll have you know I'm a man of mystery" He said, crossing his arms as he leaned against the counter. Y/N snorted as she took out a pack of ground beef from the fridge. “Dean, the only thing mysterious about you is how the hell do your socks smell so nasty?” She cackled, tossing her head back.

“Don’t knock the funk, babe.” Dean protested, holding a hand over his heart as if she had offended him. “And it’s called manly pheromones. Women dig it.” Y/N grimaced at him, pressing a hand to her chest “As a woman, from Planet Actual Woman. We don’t” She whispered the last part, flashing him a sly wink.

Dean let out a mock gasp of shock. "You don't?" He asked incredulously, putting on a wounded expression. “Then how do you explain all the times you’ve stolen my shirts?” Y/N’s eyes widened, she quickly reached for the pack of new paper towels, tossing it at him.

“Nice aim, sweetheart," Dean chuckled, easily dodging the paper towels again. Y/N just shot him a middle finger aimed in his direction, mumbling something about ‘lacing his tacos with laxatives’.

When she turned away from him, her cheeks were burning red at the fact that he caught her red handed. But she quickly schooled the act, so he didn’t notice.

💇🏻‍♂️💇🏻‍♂️💇🏻‍♂️💇🏻‍♂️💇🏻‍♂️💇🏻‍♂️💇🏻‍♂️💇🏻‍♂️💇🏻‍♂️💇🏻‍♂️💇🏻‍♂️💇🏻‍♂️💇🏻‍♂️💇🏻‍♂️💇🏻‍♂️💇🏻‍♂️💇🏻‍♂️💇🏻‍♂️

Author's Note: This one has been in my drafts for a few days now and I’m finally letting it see light lol.

Hope everyone likes it!!

Taglist: @hjgdhghoe @rach5ive @tiggytaylor @star-yawnznn @quarterhorse19

@deangirl96 @bitchykittenconnoisseur @globetrotter28 @hobby27 @mrsjjkwinchester

@juwu-theliciosa @magiccliopleurodon @nesnejwritings @karrah89 @whattheduckisupkyle

@iloveyou2mia @thelittlelightinthedarkness @lmhf1 @littletomboy2 @zigzoggy

@hey-its-zoe-blog @modiddys-blog

Xoxo

[lovelookspretty]

lies for lunch

rafe cameron x reader

— in which y/n returns to her hometown, the outer banks, to work as ward cameron’s assistant at cameron development, but living under his roof for the summer leads to unexpected tension with his son, rafe.

warnings: animosity, rafes daddy issues, safe !!

authors note: for the sake of the story i need y/n or you or whatever to have a person of familiarity whos hung back in obx to act like you’ve known each other for years, SO U HAVE A FICTIONAL BROTHER 😭

for the past ten months, you’ve been working at cameron development, helping ward negotiate deals and obtain permits. it’s been almost like being his assistant through everything. what started as an internship turned into a full-time job with actual pay after all this time.

they were right—hard work and determination can really pay off. you just didn’t expect to get so lucky with how quickly things moved. after a series of private meetings where ward discussed traveling back to north carolina to work in his hometown, he suggested you come along.

the relationship isn’t weird or inappropriate. you’re one of the few employees ward genuinely appreciates, which is more than he can say about the burnouts that float through the company. since you’re from the outer banks yourself, ward thinks it makes sense to bring you along to continue working for him and the company for as long as possible.

but anyway, you’re absolutely thrilled to be back in the outer banks. it’s more than just a job opportunity—it’s a chance to reconnect with everything familiar, everything that’s been tugging at your heart since you left.

the occasional visits have been fine, enough to keep the homesickness at bay for a while, but that constant, quiet longing for the place you grew up never really goes away. but now? now you’re staying in obx for the summer. no more fleeting weekends, no more rushed goodbyes. you’ll have time to breathe, to soak it all in. to be home.

the airport air is still fresh in your lungs when you slide into the backseat of the car, your bags dumped beside you. before the door even clicks shut, your fingers are already scrolling through your contacts. there’s only one person you want to talk to right now—your brother.

“hey,” you say, stretching out the word, a grin tugging at your lips as you hear the familiar click of him picking up.

“hey,” comes his easy, laid-back reply, his voice filling the small space around you like it always does. like home. “did you land?”

you bounce slightly in your seat as the car hits a bump, your grip tightening on your phone for a second. “yeah,” you confirm, digging through your bag absentmindedly. “i’m about twenty minutes from figure 8, so i’ll be there around noon. are mom and dad home?”

there’s a slight pause on his end, the sound of him shifting around, probably sprawling lazily on the couch back home. “nah, they’re not,” he finally says. “i swung by to check, but i guess mom’s out at lunch with her friends, and dad’s working today.”

you let out an involuntary groan, the disappointment settling in your chest. of course, it would work out like this. “this is what i get for trying to surprise them.”

his voice comes back, laced with mild amusement. “it’s your fault for not announcing you’re coming a day earlier.”

he’s right, but you don’t want to admit it. instead, you plow forward. “look, can you at least call mom and ask if she can be home soon? ward wants me to head straight to him as soon as i land, but i really wanna stop by as soon as i can. i can’t be there later than two.”

on the other end, you can almost hear the exaggerated sigh that you know is coming. the kind that’s loaded with all the typical dramatics. he’s probably rolling his eyes too, even though you can’t see him. “yeah, yeah, whatever,” he mutters, clearly unable to resist playing up his irritation. “i’ll take care of it. just text me when you’re on your way. still can’t believe you’re working for wc.”

with that, the call ends abruptly, and you pull the phone away from your ear, blinking down at the screen in mild confusion. wc? who calls him wc? you furrow your brow, lips tugging into a slight frown as you shoot off a quick text to your brother.

‘ 1st, nobody calls him wc. and 2nd, what??? ’

your phone buzzes again. his reply is as cryptic as ever.

‘ just a coincidence that in ny u ended up working for someone from obx still. don’t u remember him growing up? ’

you stare at the message, trying to piece together what he’s talking about, until another text follows almost immediately.

‘ he has like 3 kids. rafe, sarah, wheezie. i saw rafe down at the pier a few weeks ago. we used to see them at parties when we were younger. ’

rafe? sarah? wheezie? none of those names ring a bell. you rack your brain, searching for some kind of recognition, but you come up empty. a soft laugh escapes you as you quickly type back, ‘idk who that is lmao sorry’ and lock your phone, leaning back in the seat with a sigh.

ward cameron has three kids. it’s a strange thing to realize, that the man you’ve been working for these past couple of years has an entire family you’ve never heard of. but then again, work was always work. personal details were rarely exchanged unless necessary. and now, you can’t help but think—would you meet them? would they be anything like ward?

your brother mentioned seeing one of them recently, so you can assume at least one of ward’s children still live here. you wonder if the rest do too.

your thoughts wander as the car turns down another road, bringing you closer to the heart of figure 8. it’s been a long time since you’ve been back here, long enough for some of the details to feel fuzzy, but the feeling of the place—that never changes. the salty air, the warmth of the sun filtering through the car windows, the sense of familiarity that sits low in your chest, almost like relief.

you try to imagine what the next few months will be like. working for ward in the outer banks is worlds apart from working for him in new york. for one, the pace is different—slower, more laid-back. and for another, you won’t be disappearing into a faceless crowd when the workday ends. you’ll be here, surrounded by people who might actually know your name. or at least remember your face.

the car slows down, the gravel beneath the tires crunching softly as you near the cameron estate.

“thank you!” you call out, waving as the driver pulls away, leaving you standing on the driveway with your bags at your feet. for a moment, you just stand there, taking it all in. the cameron house looms in front of you.

you bend down, grabbing the straps of your bags and hauling them up, careful not to drag them across the grass. even though this isn’t your home, there’s an odd comfort in the way it feels.

you’ve been here before—well, not here exactly, but close enough. working summer jobs in figure 8 as a teenager had given you a glimpse of this world. a world where you were always on the outside, always temporary. back then, you were just a girl from the cut, doing what you had to do to get by.

no one looked at you twice. but now? now you’re here for something more. wanted, even.

the thought of it makes your stomach twist with a mixture of excitement and anxiety. you adjust the weight of your bags on your shoulder and step up to the door, knocking firmly before dropping your things to the floor with a soft thud.

a small sigh of relief escapes your lips as you straighten up, rolling your shoulders to shake off the stiffness from the journey. you’ve been lugging these bags around for hours, and your arms are starting to feel like lead.

as you wait, you take a moment to fix your hair, fingers smoothing back stray strands that have fallen into your face. it’s only then that you hear a rustle in the bushes to your left. your heart skips a beat, and you freeze, mid-motion, your eyes flicking toward the sound. you stretch your neck slightly, peering over your shoulder, but there’s nothing. just silence. your pulse settles again, and you let out a quiet laugh at yourself.

the door suddenly swings open, and you drop your hands to your sides, your face breaking into a smile. standing in the doorway is a girl, and instantly, you’re struck by how put together she looks.

her long blonde hair cascades down her back, and she’s dressed in a cozy white knit sweater paired with shorts. it’s casual, effortless, but there’s something about it that screams figure 8 wealth. but what really catches your attention are her socks—brightly colored, with little monster faces peeking out from the tops.

you smile a little wider at the sight. you’re starting to like her already.

“hey, i’m y/n,” you introduce yourself, stepping forward and extending your hand.

“it’s so nice to meet you! i’m sarah,” she replies, her smile just as warm as she reaches out to shake your hand. her grip is firm but friendly, and before you know it, she’s ushering you inside with a wave of her hand. “come on in! my dad isn’t here right now, but i can actually show you to our guest room. it’s, like, right next to mine. it’s so homey. you’ll love it.”

her energy is almost overwhelming, but in a good way. she’s excited, and you can’t help but feel a little relieved.

“i mean, yeah, sure,” you say, bending down to grab your bags again. but before you can get a good grip, sarah is already stepping in to help, lifting one of the bags with ease. you follow her inside, the door clicking shut behind you as you enter the home.

it’s everything you expected and more—bright, airy, with high ceilings and tasteful decor. it’s the kind of place that feels almost untouchable, like something out of a magazine.

as you make your way toward the stairs, you can’t help but glance around, taking it all in. the house smells faintly of lemon and clean linens, and the soft hum of the air conditioner is the only sound that breaks the quiet. it’s beautiful, but it’s also a little intimidating.

“so, is there anyone else home that i should worry about if i, like, wanted to shower?” you ask as you follow sarah up the steps.

sarah shoots you a smile over her shoulder as she leads the way. “i think you’re good. my brother and sister are here, but they won’t bother you. wheezie’s doing her homework, and rafe . . . well, he’s probably not even home.”

her tone is casual, like she’s talking about the weather, but you can’t help but feel a flicker of curiosity. you remember your brother mentioning a rafe in his text earlier, but the name still doesn’t mean much to you. maybe you’ll meet him later, maybe not. either way, it’s not something you’re too concerned about right now.

you reach the guest room door, and sarah twists the knob, pushing it open with a flourish. “here! this is your room for the summer.”

you step inside, and your breath catches in your throat. it’s . . . gorgeous. simple, but elegant, with soft cream-colored walls and wide windows that let in streams of natural light. the bed is large, with crisp white sheets that look impossibly inviting, and there’s a small sitting area in the corner with a plush chair and a side table. it’s more than you ever expected.

“wow,” you breathe, your eyes sweeping over the room. “this is . . . really nice.”

sarah grins, setting your bag down on the chair. “told you! if you’re gonna shower, i’ll leave you to it. but if you need anything, my room’s right next to yours.” she gestures vaguely toward the door. “the bathroom’s across the hall from mine. my dad will probably be home in, like, half an hour? him and rose just ran out to do something before you got here.”

you nod, but your mind snags on the name—rose. ward’s wife. it’s funny, now that you think about it, how little you actually know about ward’s personal life. you’ve worked with him for years, but he’s always kept things strictly professional. it’s only now, standing in his home, that you’re realizing just how much of his life is a mystery to you.

sarah gives you one last smile before slipping out of the room, closing the door behind her. and just like that, you’re alone. you let out a long, slow breath, your fingers absentmindedly twisting the rings on your fingers as you take a moment to center yourself. it feels surreal, being here. like stepping into someone else’s life for a while.

you cross the room and pull back the curtains, revealing a stunning view of the island and for a moment, all your worries melt away. it’s beautiful here. peaceful. maybe this summer won’t be so bad after all.

you grab your bathroom bag and a fresh set of clothes, the weight of the morning starting to press on your shoulders as you make your way to the bathroom. you pause outside the door, hearing the muffled laughter of sarah and wheezie from across the hall.

their lighthearted chatter pulls a soft smile onto your lips, a sense of warmth in this house. it's comforting, in a strange way, to be surrounded by family—even if it's not your own.

the bathroom is sleek, modern, almost too luxurious compared to what you're used to. you lock the door behind you and let out a long, relieved breath. the hot water feels like an escape, like it's rinsing away the tension of the trip, the awkwardness of being in someone else’s home, and the nerves tangled in your chest about what comes next.

as the minutes pass, you try to calm the buzz in your mind. you know you need to hurry—the last thing you want is to be caught mid-shower when ward and rose return. you quickly towel off, pulling on your new clothes with an urgency that betrays your attempt to stay calm.

you grab your bag off the counter, unlock the bathroom door, and step back into the hallway. as you cross toward your room, you stop abruptly. there, by the door, are three guys, clearly in the middle of something. confusion furrows your brow—who are they? why are they here?

one of them has his back to you, looking into the room, while the others glance in your direction, the closest one nudging the other to signal your arrival. great. more people.

the one in the doorway catches your eye. his hand is rubbing his jaw, his stance casual, like he owns the place. for all you know, he does. his other hand is stuffed in his pocket, his expression unreadable as he turns toward you.

you can feel the weight of their stares, but you offer a polite smile, trying to act unbothered even though you feel a little out of place. honestly, the house is big enough for all of them, and you're too new to figure out who’s who just yet. you’re not even sure who lives here or if they’re just guests like you.

before any introductions can be made, ward’s voice booms from the front of the house, pulling you from the awkwardness of the moment. “is she here?”

you move past the tall boy, dropping your bag off in the guest room, and make your way downstairs. your heart leaps when you spot ward and rose. the grin that stretches across your face feels genuine, a relief after navigating the uncertainty of the last few hours.

“hey,” you say, stepping off the last stair to shake their hands. “thank you for letting me stay in your home, by the way. i met sarah. she’s great.”

ward gives you a friendly nod, his demeanor warm but business-like—he's already familiar with your work ethic and you know that he expects the same here.

“yeah, wait ‘til you meet rafe and wheezie, though,” he says, glancing at rose, who’s already inching away, clearly not interested in small talk, and it stings more than you’d care to admit. but you brush it off, focusing on the fact that you’re here for work, not approval.

“did sarah show you your room?” ward asks, guiding you toward the kitchen.

“yeah, she did!” you nod, falling into step beside him. “it’s really nice. i also used the shower, honestly. also super nice.”

he chuckles lightly, gesturing to the open space around you. “help yourself to anything while you're here. bathrooms, the kitchen, the living room—whatever you need as long as you're working with me here.”

when you reach the kitchen, ward turns to face you, and you're about to answer his question when the boys from earlier walk in, their presence shifting the energy in the room.

the tall one—who you now realize must be rafe—moves with an air of familiarity, heading straight for the fridge without so much as a glance your way, though his friends have sprawled out on the couch nearby, keeping half an eye on the situation.

“you grew up here?” rafe asks, pulling something from the fridge with a nonchalance that borders on arrogance. his tone isn’t rude, exactly, but there’s a challenge in his words, like he’s testing you.

you shift your weight slightly, feeling his attention on you now. “yeah, i did.”

“humor me,” he says before his father can talk, smirking as he continues, “figure 8 or the cut?"

there it is—the divide. figure 8, the land of privilege and wealth, versus the cut, where people like you are from. it's a question loaded with judgment, but you stand your ground.

you hesitate, unsure whether to entertain your boss’s son. “that’s . . .” you begin saying, noticing the small hint of a smile on his lips as he twists the bottle cap off. “i lived in the cut.”

ward quickly steps in, raising a hand to ease the tension. “y/n,” he says, using your name in a way that reminds you you’re under his wing here. “you don’t have to answer his questions.”

there’s a quiet pause before he officially introduces rafe, confirming what you already suspected. “this is rafe,” he says, nodding toward his son, who watches you intently. ward pauses as he brushed over it quickly, “and his friends,” like he doesn’t want to say it.

you give a small wave in return, feeling the awkwardness creep back in. you’re not sure what to make of the boys yet, but the dynamic between them feels . . . off. guarded. like there’s more going on than meets the eye.

ward claps his hands together, breaking the silence. “time for lunch. rafe, can you please tell sarah and wheezie to come down?” he asks, already heading toward the patio doors. “y/n, feel free to find a seat at the table.”

you murmur an ‘okay’ and follow ward outside, the breeze hitting your face as you step onto the patio. you take a moment to scan the setup, unsure where to sit, but ward motions for you to pick any spot. the table looks inviting, the outdoor space just as luxurious as the inside. it’s surreal, really, being here—like stepping into a different world entirely.

the table outside is a lavish spread, every dish meticulously placed as though the meal is a display of the cameron family's status. some of the food is freshly prepared, you can tell by the steam rising from the platters, while other dishes have clearly been delivered, probably from some upscale restaurant.

everything is pristine, almost too perfect for a casual lunch, but you remind yourself this isn’t just any ordinary lunch. this is a welcome—to ward’s world, to his home, and into the lives of the camerons.

this lunch wasn't really about you, though. it’s more of a formality for ward’s return to north carolina.

as you sit at the table, alone for now, your gaze drifts to the patio, the large windows giving you a glimpse into the house. your thoughts wander to art, and you can almost hear his voice in your head—his dry humor, his sarcastic quips. he’d love this, probably have a million things to say about the whole setup.

the camerons, so far, seem nice. well, most of them. sarah is definitely the easiest to get along with, the type of person you instantly feel comfortable around. but rose? you're not even sure she’ll show up for lunch. and rafe . . . you’re still figuring him out. there’s something about him, something unreadable that leaves you on edge.

as your eyes sweep around the room inside, they land on rafe. he's with his friends, the same group from earlier, laughing and talking like they don’t have a care in the world. there’s an ease about him when he’s with them, like he’s more at home in their company than anywhere else.

you can’t quite put your finger on it, but something about him feels . . . dangerous? no, maybe not dangerous, but unpredictable. like he could switch from charming to something much darker in the blink of an eye.

and then it happens—he looks at you. directly at you, like he knows you’ve been watching him. the way he smiles is almost smug, as if he’s aware of the effect he has on people, on you. your heart does a small flip, caught off guard by the intensity of his gaze.

then, just as quickly, he says something to his friends, who erupt into laughter, and you feel the uncomfortable prick of self-consciousness. are they laughing at you? god, you hope not. the last thing you need is to be the butt of some joke you don’t understand.

you pull your focus away, trying to ignore the warmth creeping into your cheeks, and you shift in your chair, suddenly too aware of how out of place you feel. this isn’t your world, not yet at least. you’re still figuring out the rules, where you stand, who you can trust. it's like being in a play without knowing your lines.

“i know my kids are going to be a handful when they’re all together, so . . . be prepared for that,” ward’s voice cuts through your thoughts, and you turn slightly to glance over your shoulder at him. there’s a warmth to his tone, something almost paternal. “but they’re good.”

you force a small smile and nod, though you’re not sure how much you believe him. you have a feeling ‘good’ might mean different things in the cameron household.

“you’re a year or two older than sarah,” he continues, and you turn back to face the table, focusing on the clean lines of the polished wood, the way the sunlight catches on the glassware. “you’re not that far off in age with rafe, either. sarah’s probably going to be your best friend. she can’t help it.”

there’s a lightness in his voice, and you get the sense that sarah is the glue that holds this family together, the one everyone relies on to keep things civil. “but rafe . . . he’ll warm up to you.”

will he? you can’t help the slight lift of your brows, amusement flickering in your expression as you consider his words. you don’t agree, but you can’t say that. something about rafe feels like he’s not the type to easily ‘warm up’ to anyone, especially someone like you—an outsider stepping into his territory.

“yeah,” you murmur, your tone filled with doubt, “i’m sure of it.”

the cameron family finally gathers at the long, polished table outside, sunlight filtering through the trees and casting dappled patterns across the plates. you take in the scene quietly as everyone finds their places, the quiet shuffle of chairs pulling out, scraping slightly against the patio stones.

it’s a family affair, but rafe’s friends have tagged along—an addition that seems unsanctioned by ward but tolerated nonetheless. ward positions himself at one head of the table, with you and sarah flanking either side of him like you’re all part of some carefully orchestrated tableau.

rafe is at the opposite end, far enough that the distance feels intentional, deliberate. you can’t help but notice how he’s checked out, his gaze drifting, uninterested. to your right, one of his friends, the blond one, settles beside you, and his presence feels awkward, like he’s trying to take up as little space as possible, aware of the invisible tension in the air.

on the other side of him, the other friend sits, both of them quiet for now. down sarah’s side, wheezie sits next to her sister, then rafe at the very end. the empty chair beside wheezie feels like a gap. technically it’s rose’s chair if she were to have changed her mind.

“so what are you?” wheezie asks, breaking the initial silence, and you can see sarah’s immediate reaction, the quick glance she shoots her sister, a mild scolding in her eyes.

the phrasing is blunt, too blunt, but then again, wheezie is a kid—still learning the art of conversation, still figuring out the way words land.

before you can answer, ward steps in, his voice calm but authoritative. “y/n is my assistant,” he says, filling in the blank you hadn’t yet decided how to describe. you pause mid-chew, a small bite of food lingering on your tongue as you listen to him explain. “she’ll be working with me here in north carolina for cameron development over the next few months.”

you nod slightly, not sure how to react to being discussed like you’re not there. you’ve been in situations like this before, professionally at least, but it feels different now, being talked about in front of his family. a piece of you wants to assert yourself, to explain your role in your own words, but it feels like there’s no room for that right now. so, you stay quiet.

“that’s cool,” sarah says, her voice warm and genuine as she glances over at you, a small, encouraging smile on her face. she seems like the type who would get along with almost anyone, a natural mediator. “what do you do? as his assistant and all.”

from the corner of your eye, you catch rafe’s subtle shift, his gaze flicking toward sarah, his expression sharp for a moment, like he’s not interested in this conversation but is still somehow annoyed by it. you wonder what’s behind that look, what tension simmers under the surface.

you swallow and clear your throat, aware that everyone’s waiting for your answer now. “uh, yeah,” you start, your voice sounding more casual than you intend, like you’re trying to downplay your actual responsibilities.

“your dad has his job—he oversees the projects, handles the big picture stuff. i come along when he needs help with negotiating contracts and leases, hiring architects, engineers, contractors, all that. i also scout available land for potential developments.” you pause, glancing around the table. “just stuff like that.”

there’s a moment of silence, and for a second, you think maybe your explanation was enough. but then, like a crack in the veneer, rafe speaks, almost mockingly, “do you also get him coffee whenever he asks? do you fuck him, too?”

his words hit like a punch, unexpected and crude, cutting through the air with a kind of reckless confidence that leaves you momentarily stunned. for a second, the table feels frozen, like no one’s quite sure how to react.

the blond boy next to you nearly chokes on his food, a strangled half-laugh escaping before he catches himself, suddenly aware that rafe’s comment shouldn’t be funny.

your stomach twists, a flush of heat creeping up your neck as you force yourself to stay composed, staring straight at rafe from across the table. his gaze is fixed on you, unflinching, like he’s testing you, waiting to see how you’ll respond.

it’s infuriating—the audacity of it, the way he tosses out the insult so casually, like it’s no big deal.

ward sets his fork down with a soft clink against the plate, his fingers intertwining as he leans forward slightly. the tension shifts, thickening around the table, and you can feel every set of eyes on you, but your focus remains on rafe.

“rafe,” ward’s voice is calm, measured, but there’s a warning in it. and yet, rafe doesn’t look away, doesn’t flinch. he stays locked onto you, like you’re locked in some kind of silent standoff, and part of you wonders what he’s trying to prove.

after a beat of silence, ward adds, “can i talk to you inside the house?” it’s not really a question, more of a command, and finally, rafe moves. slowly, he pulls the napkin from his lap, tossing it onto the table before rising from his seat.

ward turns to you, his expression softening into something apologetic, and you nod slightly, acknowledging his silent apology even though you’re not sure what to do with it. as they disappear inside, the tension lingers, heavy and uncomfortable.

you force yourself to take another bite of food, though it feels like chewing cardboard. the uneasy feeling coils tighter in your chest. this is off to a rocky start, to say the least. sarah and wheezie seem fine, but rafe . . . rafe’s going to be a problem.

sarah reaches across the table, her hand brushing lightly against yours, and you glance up to meet her eyes. there’s sincerity in her expression, a quiet kind of empathy. “i’m so sorry for him,” she says softly. “rafe has a tendency to act like an idiot on a daily basis. don’t let anything he says get to you.”

before you can respond, the blond boy—topper, you think—finally speaks, his voice quiet but carrying a hint of amusement. “he doesn’t have a tendency to act like an idiot every day,” he says, shaking his head slightly as he takes another bite of food, a small smile playing on his lips. it’s the first thing he’s said to you directly, and the casualness of it surprises you.

“oh, he absolutely does,” sarah retorts with a light laugh. “and i’m sure you get yours from him.” she turns to you, smiling again. “y/n, this is topper and kelce, if you hadn’t already been introduced.”

before you can say anything, wheezie pipes up quickly, almost as if she’s sharing a secret, “sarah and topper used to date.” her voice is soft, but the reaction from sarah and topper is immediate—they both look over at her, like this was something she wasn’t supposed to say out loud.

“what?” wheezie says, glancing around the table innocently.

you can’t help but smile at the sibling dynamics playing out in front of you. it reminds you of your own relationship with your brother, the way siblings know each other’s secrets, their histories, the things that outsiders wouldn’t catch unless they were paying attention. in this brief moment, amidst the tension, you find a sliver of familiarity, of something you recognize.

you pull your napkin off your lap, rising from your seat, feeling the tension still clinging to your skin like humidity. you adjust your clothes, smoothing down fabric that doesn’t need smoothing, but it gives your hands something to do.

“where’s the nearest bathroom inside?” you ask, trying to sound casual, but you can feel the strain in your voice, the way your words almost trip over themselves.

“once you’re in the kitchen, it should be the door in the hallway if you just keep walking straight,” sarah tells you, offering a small smile. you nod in response, forcing yourself to return the gesture, though it feels hollow.

you step away from the table, and sarah seizes the moment to nudge wheezie, probably to scold her for spilling her relationship drama with topper.

as you make your way toward the bathroom, your steps slow. it’s not like you really need to go. you glance behind, making sure no one’s paying attention, before diverting your path to the front door instead. the knot in your stomach tightens with every step.

the front door is slightly ajar, and through the opening, you spot rafe. he’s leaning back in a chair on the porch, his head tilted toward the sky as if it’s the only thing he can stand to look at.

ward’s standing near him, mid-conversation, and their voices pull you in, despite knowing you shouldn’t eavesdrop. you lean against the doorframe, just out of sight, your heartbeat quickening.

“you didn't have to fly out some girl that works at the company just because she’s doing good,” rafe says, lifting his head from the chair, his voice tinged with frustration, like he’s been holding it in for too long. “i could've taken the job, especially because i’m already here.”

there’s bitterness in his words, but beneath that, you catch something else—something raw. rafe’s trying to understand why he’s being left out, why he’s not the one ward trusts.

“exactly, rafe,” ward replies, his tone firmer than before. “you're twenty-one and you’re still here. she’s twenty and she's been working with me for nearly two years. don’t you think that says something?”

his words land heavily, and for a moment, there’s silence. you feel the weight of the comparison ward’s making, and it sinks into you too, even though it shouldn’t. rafe chuckles, standing up, but it’s not out of amusement. it’s a defense mechanism, a way to shield himself from whatever hurt ward’s words are causing.

“y/n is here because she’s good at what she does,” ward continues, his voice steadier now, trying to end the conversation.

“alright, dad,” rafe says, nodding, but his expression betrays his words. “let's say i believe that—because i don’t—why am i not in her place?”

ward sighs, shaking his head like he doesn’t understand how rafe isn’t getting it. “rafe, think about what kind of job she has. how could i trust you with that?”

the words sting, and even though they aren’t directed at you, you feel a strange sense of guilt crawling under your skin. you know you’ve earned your place, worked hard for it. but hearing it spelled out like this, in such a stark contrast to rafe, it makes you feel . . . uncomfortable.

rafe rubs his chin, his fingers brushing against the stubble there. he doesn’t say anything, just nods like he’s processing it all, or maybe pretending to. he turns to head back inside.

and that’s when he sees you, standing there, caught in the act of listening.

his eyes lock onto yours, and for a second, you don’t know what to do. your throat tightens, but you force yourself to keep your head high. you can’t apologize. you don’t need to. this is your job, after all, the one you’ve worked damn hard for.

still, the silence stretches between you, heavy and uncomfortable. rafe doesn’t say anything, just turns away, walking back out toward the patio. you exhale, realizing you’ve been holding your breath. the knot in your stomach only tightens as you push yourself off the doorframe and head toward the bathroom, your footsteps almost echoing in the stillness of the hallway.

you stop in front of the bathroom door, staring at it like it might hold some answers you don’t have. your hand reaches for the knob, your fingers curling around it, but you don’t turn it. instead, you stand there, replaying the conversation in your head, trying to make sense of what you’ve just heard. rafe’s resentment, ward’s trust in you—it’s a lot to take in, and you wonder if you’re supposed to feel . . . what? proud? guilty? it’s hard to pin down.

before you can figure it out, you hear footsteps approaching. your hand drops from the doorknob just as ward’s voice reaches you.

“hey,” he says, his tone softer now, though there’s still an edge of frustration lingering there, probably from his conversation with rafe. “you and the girls getting along good?”

you plaster on a smile, nodding even though your thoughts are still tangled from the scene outside. “yeah, we’re good.”

ward mutters a small ‘good, good’ as he walks past you, heading back to the patio. you watch him go, your arms crossing over your chest as if that’ll hold you together. you follow behind him slowly, a quiet unease settling in your chest. this family, with all its complications, feels like a storm you’ve just walked into.

and then there’s rafe. if he already resents you, you can only imagine how his friends—topper and kelce—will react. boys like them, they stick together, and you know that dynamic all too well. the chances of them giving you a fair shot seem slim.

you brace yourself as you step back outside, a small sigh slipping past your lips. this job, this place—it’s not going to be easy. but nothing worth it ever is, right?

“so you're from the outer banks?” sarah asks as soon as you sit back down. there’s an edge to her voice, like she’s making an effort to seem casual but is still trying to figure you out. you can’t blame her. she’s probably just trying to get a feel for who you are, maybe ease the tension that’s been hanging in the air since you got here.

“where from?” she adds, glancing at you over the rim of her glass.

you pause, fork hovering just above your plate, feeling a flicker of unease. it’s a simple enough question, but you can already feel the weight of your answer.

“near quinton,” you say, cutting into your food with deliberate care, keeping your tone light. “a little south.”

you don’t look up as you speak, focusing on the neat little slices you’re making in your lunch, as if perfecting that action could keep the conversation from slipping into uncomfortable territory.

“i’m surprised we haven’t met before today,” you continue, the lie slipping out so smoothly you almost believe it yourself. “my friends and i knew just about everyone before i left the island.”

but the truth sits heavily in your stomach. you don’t know them. sure, your brother mentioned that your families had crossed paths when you were younger, but the memories never stuck. whatever brief moments there were, they’ve faded into the backdrop of your childhood.

rafe, however, doesn’t let your words slide by as easily. he latches onto them like a dog with a bone, straightening in his seat, eyes gleaming with interest.

“your friends?” his voice cuts through the air, almost too eager, too sharp. it’s like he’s waiting for you to say something wrong, give him an opening to tear into you. sarah watches him warily, her eyes flicking between you and her brother. she’s looking for help—maybe from her dad—but the tension is palpable, thickening by the second.

your phone buzzes in your back pocket, and the vibration pulls you from the uncomfortable scrutiny rafe’s casting in your direction.

“who do you know here?” he presses, and his tone is challenging now, like he’s daring you to prove something to him. to justify your place here, in this house, at this table.

you lift your gaze then, meeting his eyes with a steady look, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing you squirm. but there’s something in the way he’s staring at you that makes your skin crawl, like he’s already made up his mind about you, about what kind of person you are.

it’s fucking exhausting.

“hate to interrupt you, ray,” you say, letting a mocking lilt creep into your voice as you rise from your seat. you keep your movements controlled, measured, not too rushed. “but i have a phone call.”

you pull your phone from your pocket, waving it slightly, feeling a small rush of satisfaction when rafe’s jaw clenches ever so slightly. “let me just take that really quick so we can continue our conversation.”

you don’t wait for his response, because you know whatever he says will just add to the irritation simmering beneath your skin. as you step out of the way, you hear him mutter, “it’s rafe,” under his breath, like correcting you is somehow important to him.

“it’s actually my brother!” you whisper-yell back, flashing the screen of your phone in his direction, making sure he sees the call.

as you walk away, you feel the tension ease just slightly, but it’s still there, humming beneath the surface. this place—figure eight, tannyhill—it’s like a tangled web, and you’ve just stepped into it, with people like rafe already ready to watch you stumble.

you press your phone to your ear as you step out of the patio and into the cool air of the home, and you try to calm yourself, leaning against the wall as your brother’s voice greets you on the other end.

you know you’ll have to go back in there, face rafe again, but for now, you allow yourself a brief moment to breathe.

considering making this a few-part series (maybe) !! let me know if you’d be interested thru replies, anons, or dms <3

@tiaamberxx

[janeyseymour]

All I Ask

Loosely based off of two prompts: one where R asks Mel to hold her as more than just a friend the night before Mel goes on a first date, and another where both R and Mel are set up on blind dates (requested by @gwennybriggs)... enjoy.

WC: ~4.15k

One thing about Barbara Howard is that she loves to play match maker.

“All I’m saying, Melissa, is maybe it’s time to get yourself back out there!” Barbara antagonizes her best friend once again during a lunch period. The kindergarten teacher looks to you with a small smirk. She knows of your feelings for a certain redhead sitting in between the two of you, and she’s hoping that the second grade teacher will just take the damned hint. The kindergarten teacher also knows of the feelings that Melissa harbors for you. 

“And all I’m sayin’, Barbara,” Melissa says that name with a pointed tone. “Is that I don’t need no one in my life to ‘complete’ me, or whatever bullshit you wanna tell me being in love does.”

“Melissa, it’s been two years since you broke it off with Gary. Don’t you think it’s time to get yourself back out there? Just maybe?”

“I don’t need nobody- not when I have a happy life as it is.”

That is the end of the conversation for the time being, but then Melissa starts to think it over. Maybe what Barbara is saying is true- it’s been a while. And she does miss having someone to fall asleep with at night. Although… whenever you come over, the two of you end up curled up on the couch together, and occasionally you will spend the night in her bed with her.

It’s platonic. It’s just friends being friends. At least that’s what Melissa tells herself. That’s what you tell yourself too when you lay in bed with her at night and wonder if maybe, just maybe, this is something more. 

So the next time you’re over, Melissa asks you about it.

“What do you think about what Barb was saying the other day at school? About… finding love and all that shit?” the redhead asks you as her head lays in your lap.

You stiffen slightly, not sure if this is your chance to say anything. Green eyes look up to meet your own, trying to figure out your thoughts.

“I mean, I think it might be good for you,” you shrug softly.

“Well,” she says as she sits up to look at you more intensely. “What about for you? Miss eternally single?”

The reason you’ve been single as long as you have been is because of your feelings for the redhead, not that she knows it. You shrug your shoulders ever so slightly, letting her know that you have hesitations in your answer. “I guess maybe I could consider going out on a date or something.”

So the next day at school, during lunch, love lives are the topic of the staff room.

“I was thinking… what if we set you up with someone I know?” Barbara asks. “C’mon, you know I would pick someone good for you.”

Melissa sighs a great breath. “Will it get you off my back if I say yes?” At the kindergarten teacher’s nod, the redhead swallows harshly before, “Fine.”

“Oh, how wonderful. I know just who I should set you up with!”

“You know, Y/N and I were talkin’ last night, and she’s thinkin’ ‘bout getting back into the dating game too. You know of anyone to set her up with, Lowercase?” Melissa asks.

Janine’s eyes brighten, and you can swear you see them almost start to sparkle at the idea of getting to play match maker for you. “I do!”

“Oi,” you roll your eyes and shake your head. You elbow the second grade teacher sitting next to you gently. “Way to throw me under the bus.”

“If I gotta do it, so d’you.”

As you and the redheaded second grade teacher head out a few minutes early to use the restroom before picking up your kids from lunch, Barbara whips around to look at Janine and the rest of the group.

“I’m going to say something, and what I say must be kept between those of us in this room,” the veteran teacher says seriously. “That means nobody will tell Melissa or Y/N.”

“Barb, how am I supposed to not tell them?” Jacob asks incredulously.

Barbara stares him down intensely. “If you cannot vow to not say a word to your roommate about this, then you may leave.”

The social studies teacher’s hands raise in surrender, and he urges her silently to continue.

“You’ve all noticed the way those two are always together, and Y/N has stolen my work wife, yes?”

She’s met with a chorus of affirmations as well as head nods. Jacob puts in that you’re almost always over, and that occasionally you end up spending the night after a glass too many.

“I’ve had about enough of this tiptoeing around that those two love sick fools are doing,” Barbara rolls her eyes. “So, I am going to pretend to send Melissa up with one of my friends. Janine, you will set up Y/N with one of your friends. And we all ensure together that the two of them end up in the same place at the same time without them finding out that they will be showing up to the same date, yes?”

“Oh my god!” Jacob grins and claps his hands together in excitement. “We all get to play match maker!”

“Do you see now why we mustn’t speak a word of this to Melissa or Y/N?” Barbara looks at the excited man pointedly.

He gives a serious nod.

That day, Barbara gives a talking head to the camera men. Janine joins her. 

“When Barbara Howard wants something, Barbara Howard gets that thing,” the kindergarten teacher states. “And what Barbara Howard wants now more than anything is for those two to get their heads out of their asses. The two of them… flirting harder than Janine and Gregory were before they finally pulled their acts together.”

“Hey!” Janine gasps. “Did I only get pulled into this interview to get insulted?”

The veteran teacher just gives her a knowing look and a pat on the shoulder.

The next day, Barbara comes in with a pep in her step as she knows that her plan will soon be put into place.

“What has you in such a chipper mood?” Melissa asks as she pours herself and you a cup of coffee before the kids come in. The redhead places your cup where she knows you’ll end up once you show up for the day.

The kindergarten teacher looks to Janine, who is sitting very quietly (for once), before grinning. “I found the perfect person for you to go out on a date with.”

“Oh?”

“A friend of mine,” is all Barb offers up. “So, you have a date at six tomorrow night at The Dandelion.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Would you rather I change it to tonight?”

A blush creeps into the second grade teacher’s cheeks. “No. No thank you.”

It’s only a few minutes later that you walk into the room, cheeks flushed from the cool air outside. 

“Hey,” Melissa smiles softly at you. She juts her chin out in the direction of your steaming hot cup of coffee. “Made it for you already.”

“You’re a lifesaver,” you grin as you go to put your lunch in the refrigerator. “I think I’m going to need it today.”

“Well,” the second grade teacher chuckles as you sit down next to her. “If you need another cup, you know you can always ask me to grab you another.”

You lay a gentle hand on her knee and squeeze it affectionately. “You’re the best.”

Mr. Johnson smirks at the camera.

Because the group has conspired to set the two of you up unknowingly to you and Melissa, no one speaks of the redhead’s date at lunch- much to her surprise. Melissa will take it though- not having to deal with the crew on her back about it.

“You comin’ back to my place today?” the second grade teacher asks as you’re packing up your lunch.

You nod with a small smile as you nudge her affectionately. “I’ll bring the wine?”

“Should I bring enough for Jacob too?”

“I will be out with a new man, so no need,” the social studies teacher cuts into your conversation. “Hopefully, this one works out.”

So, you and your coworker end up on the couch together after a long day with a delicious meal and a rather full glass of wine in front of each of you.

“So, anything interesting happen at school today for you?” you ask as you lay your head down in the redhead’s lap.

Melissa hums softly before sighing. “Barb is setting me up with her friend. I have a date tomorrow.”

Your eyes widen ever so slightly. “Oh?”

She shrugs, trying to gauge how you feel about that. And thankfully, you’re able to mask your true emotions on the matter. “That’s nice. It seems like everyone is starting to put themselves out there lately.”

“I’m sure Janine will find someone for you soon enough,” the redhead tells you. “You’re a catch, and someone is bound to see that sooner or later.”

You grimace. You’re not so sure about that. And even if you were, you only want one person, and it’s becoming more and more clear to you that you’ll never have your chance with her. So, in that moment, you decide that starting tomorrow maybe you need to start distancing yourself from Melissa in order to get over this silly crush you have on her. You have to get yourself back out there without her constantly lingering in the back of your mind.

“Hun,” she thinks she’s reading you like a book. “C’mon, you’re a great woman. Anyone with eyes can see that you’re beautiful, and then when you let your personality shine through… you’re the real-”

You shake your head as you sit up. “Can we just… not talk about this right now? I just want to enjoy tonight with you… savor our time alone while I can before someone swoops in and steals you from me.”

Green eyes meet yours, filled with a pleading look to just drop the matter of the conversation. It’s clear to you that she wants to continue to try to boost your confidence and build you up, but she relents. “So, did anything interesting happen at school with you today?”

After polishing off the bottle of wine that you brought over, Melissa ends up bringing out a second bottle. You hate to admit that you perhaps have a few too many glasses just because you’re trying to drown out your sorrows about not ever being able to tell the woman next to you how you feel and that this is probably the last night you’ll have with her where things are exactly the way they are now.

“C’mon, hun,” Melissa nudges you gently after your head has hit her shoulder for the fourth time that night. “Let’s just head to bed.”

You nod against her shoulder sleepily, but you make no moves to get up.

“Y/N,” the redhead nudges you again. “C’mon.”

“I’m comfortable here,” you yawn out. “You’re comfortable.”

“I can be comfortable up in my bed too,” Melissa retorts with a small laugh. “I can’t sleep on a couch anymore, so c’mon.”

You let out a small whine but disentangle yourself from her own limbs before looking at her with a pout.

“Trust me,” your coworker sighs as she sets a hand on the small of your back to guide you up the steps. “You being grumpy and getting up for a proper night’s sleep is much better than me being a bitch tomorrow because I woke up sore after a night of sleeping on the couch.”

You nod your head begrudgingly. The two of you crawl into bed as you usually do- both having respective sides. A chill rushes through you as the wine drunkenness begins to wear off and your met with the cool sensation of Melissa’s fan running in her bedroom.

“You cold?” the redhead asks as she lifts an arm for you to scoot under.

You nod as you shimmy into her space with a soft smile. Her arm wraps around you and pulls you even closer.

In a rather bold move, instead of laying your head on her shoulder, you turn to face her with a sad smile.

“What’s wrong?” Melissa asks you. “Are you still cold? Should I get extra blankets?”

You shake your head. “I just… things are going to change if all goes well with you and this man Barb’s setting you up with, and if Janine ever finds someone for me.”

Melissa just hums. She’s not quite sure what to say to you about this. What you’re saying is true, and it’s becoming clear to her that you aren’t necessarily thrilled with that. If she’s being honest with herself, she isn’t too fond of the idea of things changing between the two of you either.

“And… I know it’s dumb, and I know that we aren’t together, but I like what we have,” you mumble.

“I do too, hun,” Melissa squeezes your hand gently.

“Can we just… pretend for tonight?”

“What do you mean?” Green eyes look at you curiously.

“Pretend that we’re not scared of what’s coming next, or scared of having nothing left?” You quote Adele’s lyrics unknowingly. “Like… if this is my last night with you, where everything is how it usually is, can you hold me like I’m more than just a friend?” You know you’re still drunk, or at least somewhat intoxicated. If Melissa shoots you down, you can blame the alcohol. And if she doesn’t, tomorrow you can excuse your question with the alcohol too. What do you really have to lose? Not much, if you’re being honest with yourself.

The way that she pulls you close to her and wraps her arms around your waist simultaneously makes your heart grow three sizes and break. What is happening feels so right, but you know that this is only one time. It won’t ever happen again. You feel warm lips against your neck, and you inhale deeply. Why can’t this dream of yours be a reality?

As the redhead beside you gently nips at your neck, just once, she too has feelings of regret. Why is it that she only wants you right now?

The two of you fall asleep dreaming about the same thing- a life together. 

You wake first, and the feeling of still being in Melissa’s arms has you practically swooning. If anything, throughout the night, she held onto you tighter than she had while awake. It’s warm and domestic, and you can smell the perfume she was wearing last night as it surrounds and intoxicates you.

You lay there in a peaceful bliss until her alarm starts going off. She wakes with a small jolt before her eyes peel open, and you’re met with her sparkling eyes.

“Hey, hun,” Melissa smiles at you. “You sleep off all that wine last night?”

You roll your eyes playfully as you prepare to pull yourself away from her- as much as you don’t want to. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Hungover at all?”

You shake your head, only to sheepishly start nodding before rolling away from her. “My head is pounding.”

“Well, you know where the advil is,” the second grade teacher chuckles as she starts to sit up. “And I’ll make us breakfast and coffee, so hopefully the hangover lessens.”

As you get ready, neither of you speak of the events that happened last night. You quietly note that you’re surprised Jacob didn’t make his way back to the apartment last night, but that’s really all the two of you talk about. And then you’re off to Abbott in your car, while she follows behind in her own.

At school, you don’t settle in next to the redhead like you usually would for the morning news. Instead, you make up a lame excuse about having to do work in your classroom. You don’t even take the offered second cup of coffee from your coworker. You have to start distancing yourself if you’re going to survive working at her while she starts dating again.

During lunch, you make your way into the staff room quietly and grab your meal from the refrigerator before trying to make your way out relatively unnoticed. It doesn’t work. Of course, Melissa wants you to sit with her like you usually do.

“I- I think I need some peace and quiet,” you offer meekly. “But thanks.”

You’re out the door by the time Melissa is huffing about your actions. “Girl damn near lost her mind, I swear.”

It’s towards the end of the day when Janine approaches you.

“Janine, I really can’t today if you’re going to try to rope me into ‘saving the school’ again,” you sigh as you begin to gather your things in your arms. 

“It’s nothing like that,” the energetic woman tells you quickly. “I’ve been trying to get ahold of you all day.”

“Didn’t really look at my phone today,” you grumble.

“Well, I wish you would’ve. I know you have nothing to do after school today, so… my friend got back to me. You have a date tonight.”

“I’m not going on a-”

“Yes, you are,” Janine tells you in a strict, out of character, tone. “Be at The Dandelion at six.”

“Janine,” you groan. “I just want to-”

“You’ll be at The Dandelion, or my friend is going to be really pissed with me. Please.”

“Why should I?”

“Because,” the short woman struggles to come up with an answer on the fly. “Because you’ve been single for so long, and with everyone else getting back out there again… it might be good for you. C’mon, just one date. That’s all my friend is asking for- and then… if you don’t like it, you don’t have to do it again.”

“Fine.”

Janine squeals happily. “My friend will be in a green shirt tonight, so keep an eye out.” The second grade teacher knows what Melissa will be wearing because that was the topic of the staff room today at lunch, which you were not at.

You’re absolutely dreading this. You do not want to be at The Dandelion to go on a date with one of Janine’s friends. And yet, you still find yourself changing into a pair of jeans and a nicer shirt to go to dinner.

Upon your arrival, you survey the area, only to discover that you’re there before your mystery person in green. You find a seat at the bar and sigh, ordering a glass of wine.

About five minutes later, you see someone in green walk in, but they look oddly familiar. It- It’s Melissa. Fuck. She too surveys the area, clearly looking for her date. The redhead has no such luck, but she does lock eyes with you and give a small wave before making her way over.

“What are you doing here?” she asks quietly. “Come to spy on my date?”

You take a sip of your wine. “Actually, Janine set me up on a date, but they aren’t here yet.”

Melissa hums indifferently. “Neither is my date. What do you say we just wait together here?”

Not necessarily knowing how to reject her offer, you nod and pull out the stool next to you for her to sit on. She too orders a glass of wine, and once she’s served, she looks at you.

“So, we gonna talk about why you pulled away from all of us today at school?”

You blow out a breath. “I had some things to do in my classroom.” You can tell those green eyes boring into your soul don’t believe you, so you attempt to change the subject. “How were the kids today for you?”

By 6:25, neither of your dates have shown. The two of you are sitting together quietly nursing your wine and still looking around.

When the time hits 6:30, you sigh. “Do you think they’re going to show?”

The redhead glances down at her watch. “Half an hour late, and still not here? I doubt it.”

“What the fuck?” you groan. “I’m going to kill Janine.”

“Barb ain’t gettin any of my meatballs any time soon,” your coworker grumbles as she pulls out her phone.

You dial Janine, fully intending on giving her a piece of your mind. She picks up after two rings.

“Hey! How’s it going?” she answers as cheerily as she always does.

“Your stupid friend never showed up,” you grit out.

You can practically see the face Janine makes as she gasps out a, “What? No, they did!”

“No they didn’t!” you hiss into the phone. “I’ve been sitting here for the last half an hour waiting for someone in green to show up, and no one has!”

“No, my friend definitely showed up, I know it.”

At the same time, Melissa is on the phone with Barbara.

“Barb, your friend never showed! I’ve been sitting here with Y/N for the last half hour waiting.”

“My friend definitely did show,” Barbara’s voice is calm and steady as always.

It takes the two of you a few seconds to let their words sink in before you realize you’ve been played.

“You set us up,” both you and Melissa hiss into the phones at the same time.

Only then do both of your coworker step out of a booth with smiles on their faces. “Maybe.” They both hang up, wave to you with shit eating grins, and then head out of the restaurant together. 

Slowly, you turn to Melissa with wide eyes. She does the same.

“So, you’re my date?” she asks you.

“You’re mine?” you stammer out. “But I-”

“Those two are going to get it tomorrow.”

You let out a nervous chuckle as you tuck a few locks of hair behind your ear. “Yeah. They are.”

“Well,” the redhead sighs. “I guess we should get a table and have dinner.”

“You- you want to go on this date with me?” you fumble over your words. At her nod, you blush, but the smile that washes over your face is genuine and radiant.

Dinner is nice- it’s… it’s different than the other meals the two of you have shared in the past though. Conversation flows easily between the two of you as it usually does, before she takes a deep breath.

“Y/N, we should… we should talk about this.”

Her tone tells you that she’s not interested in the slightest, and you grimace. “I can just… I can just go.” You go to grab your handbag, but a hand stops you as fingers wrap around your wrist.

“I didn’t mean that,” she rolls her eyes. She tugs you in close, and her lips meet yours softly for the first time.

Your eyes go wide as you realize that the woman of your dreams is sitting here kissing you before you reciprocate. And… wow. 

“Y-you-” you stammer out once you’ve pulled away.

She just chuckles and kisses you again. Mumbled against your lips are the words, “I’m glad you’re my date, and not someone else.”

All you can do is smile. Once you pull away, you tell her, “I am too. I was not looking forward to going out with one of Janine’s friends.”

“I mean,” Melissa nudges you. “You kind of are going out with one of her friend’s right now.”

You shrug. “I guess she didn’t lie when she told me I was meeting her friend. I just… didn’t expect it to be you.”

“I didn’t expect you to be Barb’s friend either, hun,” your coworker teases you.

That night, you end up back at her place, and unlike last night where the two of you were just pretending to hold and be held as more than just a friend, it’s real. You are more than friend’s now- doing what lovers do. It’s soft, it’s sweet, it’s domestic, it’s warm… it’s everything you could’ve dreamed of when it comes to Melissa.

Your hand is laced in hers as you walk into the staff room the next morning, and Barbara and Janine look rather content with the charade that they had pulled off the night before. It’s clear to you that the others are aware of the situation before them, as Jacob can only grin and fist pump somewhat discretely.

“You still ain’t getting my meatballs anytime soon,” Melissa grumbles at her work wife as she makes her way over to the coffee machine.

“Well worth it, Melissa dear,” the kindergarten teacher chuckles into her own mug. “Well worth it if it means that the two of you finally got your heads out of your asses and are together.”

TAGS: (and let me know if you want to be included!): @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie

[merakiui]

Rollo's trying his hardest to not jump his darling due to it being ungodly and he mustn't ruin her naive and virgin body, but the horny grip is strong and his darling just came downstairs in only HIS shirt. Her legs.... her shoulders... and the top of her breast is showing. She asks if he wants breakfast and he says yes... then proceeds to fuck her on the kitchen table.

👁 👁 omg…

He thinks it will be fine if he just,,, rubs against you because that’s safe and won’t deflower you in any way, but when he lifts the shirt only slightly and sees you’re not wearing any panties……. how can you expect him to be content with just dry humping when you’re in his shirt with your bare pussy out and asking him if he wants breakfast in such a sweet, sleepy voice!!!!! It’s over for him. >_<

Breakfast is the last thing on either of your minds as you waste the morning away with each other. You’ll have to open a window to air out the kitchen, but even after that you’re still pressed against the table or the counter—wherever’s sturdy enough to support you—panting into each other’s mouth. He was going to fuss over using protection, but all of those protests died on his tongue the minute he sunk in raw to your soft, warm, virgin pussy.

You’re such a terrible temptation. A naughty girl. Do you realize that? Did you come down in his shirt and nothing else on purpose? Did you want him to take you for breakfast when you asked? It’s not Rollo’s lust that’s to fault. You’re just too irresistible. >:( and when you’re clinging to him or scrabbling for a handhold on the counter while he pounds into you from behind, he can’t imagine being able to keep himself in check now. How is he going to keep his hands to himself when he knows how soft and warm you are, when he’s slowly figuring out where you’re most sensitive and what places on your body get you unraveling the fastest!!!! OTL

Some of his shirts end up in your closet after this. You don’t need to ask to decipher the meaning. He likes seeing you in his clothes. And who are you to disappoint your dear Rollo? <3 next time you’ll wear pretty lingerie beneath one of his shirts.

[ilovedazaiosamu]

wasn’t that what you wanted? || megumi fushiguro !

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

★ • genre : angst

★ • megumi x reader !

•𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟•

october was a stressful month for megumi, including you. there were so many missions to do, to the point you both obviously didn’t have time for each other. it bothered you, but it didn’t to him. he was acting like you were nothing to him. and your relationship grew apart, as megumi could barely spare any time. you were confused. he had his day offs, but he couldn’t even spare a conversation with you.

this morning, he was in a bad mood. usually, he would do his morning routine. he didn’t this time. he was occupied on his phone, texting yuji. he was complaining to him about how annoying you were. that’s why he has been ignoring you. he didn’t wanna hear your stupid bullshit. somehow, you saw his messages with yuji. it was heartbreaking, it tore you apart. how could he say that about you? you mean, you knew you were a chatterbox, but you thought he didn’t mind it.

”what the fuck, [name]?”

megumi was behind you. he wanted to know why you were on his phone. megumi felt so much anger in him. a little piece of resentment was building up inside him. he snatched his phone away from you.

“is that what you really.. think of me?”

you asked, trying to bottle up the surge of emotions in you. you wanted to ask why, so you could fix it. you wanted to know why. you were befuddled. why would he be with you if you were annoying.

“you weren’t supposed to see that. what the fuck were you thinking? you’re so meddlesome! do you know how annoying it is to live with you?! constantly being questioned, especially nagged! you know what? i’ve had enough of this. just leave. i don’t wanna look at you right now.”

now i was in distress. i didn’t know he had loathed me so much. i thought he still had a little bit of love in me. it looked like he didn’t. tears were staining my cheeks, as his fierce gaze was upon me.

“i thought you—“

“i don’t wanna hear it. i said leave.”

was he always this mean to you? what was stressing him out? you needed to know. but you just couldn’t. not with him ignoring you.

“i’m done, megumi! i’m done! do you know how long i’ve been holding onto this relationship for? how hard i’ve been trying to rebuild our relationship?! i’m trying, but you aren’t! just why? if i’m that annoying, why didn’t you say so? it kills me when you don’t communicate with me! i can’t do this anymore. our relationship is futile, you know why? because of this disrupted communication going on! everything would be just fine if you didn’t leave me hanging! i’m out!”

megumi was silent. through all this time, he was only thinking selfishly. he didn’t see his own mistakes, because his self centered mind only saw others’. sure, i wasn’t perfect, but i tried really hard. while he was distraught, i left. i ran outside, where the rain was pouring down on me. the clouds were crying with me. you knew it was never a good idea to bottle up your emotions. it’s like when a grasshopper comes out of its box, the others will end up escaping too. you bawled as you ran out of the building. everything was such a pain. your legs were strained, your voice too. why was it so hard to find love? to be loved?

i ended up at a cafe, where yuji was inside.

‘shit! i didn’t know he was here. i can’t get out now, i already ordered something..’ you thought to yourself as you panicked.

‘oh my god, he looked at me! shit he’s pulling out his phone.’ you knew yuji was texting megumi.

in a few seconds, megumi somehow arrived. his clothes were soaked. it looked like he was crying to. he was looking around, as if he was searching for you. you caught up on what he was doing, so you hid. you were too scared to see him. you were too embarrassed. you attempted to cover my face with my hair, but he could recognize you from a mile away, so what’s the use? he went over to your seat, and sat himself down. he had an apologetic look on his face. his nose was red, and he was blowing his nose with a tissue. it was so awkward, you felt an uncomfortable feeling in your chest.

“i’m sorry. don’t leave me, forget about everything that i said.”

megumi intertwined your fingers with his, laying his head on my shoulder. you were a little mad at him, but you smiled.

“i’m also sorry, gumi. i lashed out on you..”

you responded to him, with a sincere look on my face. my food arrived, and he kept on staring at it. you giggled at him. he was hungry but didn’t say anything.

“you should start talking more, how are we gonna avoid miscommunication if we don’t communicate?”

“yeah, maybe we should.”

megumi opened his mouth, letting you feed him your fries. he didn’t really like them, but food is food. and for the rest of the day, you both finally spent time together alone.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

★ • notes : i’ll gladly quit if this flops ! the ending is so unilateral LMAO

[noobsoconfusing]

‘fill the void’_ hamzahthefantastic

summary: hamzah has been busy with the channel and misses you so much, so when you finally have time together, you kinda make it up to him.

warning: sub!hamzah, guided masturbation, lowkey cum eating, kinda gross, fluff and praise.

>_<

hamzah’s right leg bounces up and down in a desperate manner, erratic and anxious.

brown eyes shaky and glossy as he anticipates your company, your mere existence next to his. he bites his lip hard enough to wince but not that hard to draw blood.

as the elevator is taking way too long for his liking, he rolls his eyes and practically sprints up the stairs.

bad idea, oh god. –he thinks to himself, slowing down his pace as he gets to the third floor. two more floors to reach your shared flat.

the anticipation grows inside his belly, excitement even, to finally see you after such a long day. fuck, he misses you. badly. so badly.

as he fumbles with the keys, a groan escapes his lips when his hands start shaking. open, open, please just open. he mentally begs.

fucking finally, the door opens and hamzah shuts it closed as he enters, looking for you desperately, like a lost puppy looking for its owner.

“y/n! i am home!” he announces.

red and blue quickly make their way out of their shared bed, snuggling up onto hamzah’s legs, showing how much they missed their cat dad. no response from you, whatsoever.

“hey little guys, where’s mom, huh?” knowing he wont get an answer back, hamzah pets his cats and continues looking for you.

as he gets into your shared room, he sighs in relief. there you are.

though you can’t see him, as you quickly type something on the keyboard, sitting on the desk that faces the wall. you’re wearing his headphones, and he then thinks you might be doing college work or just being functional.

he sneaks behind you, and pauses for a moment. waiting to see if you can feel his presence. but as you’re too carried away by whatever the fuck you’re doing, you don’t.

“woah!” you whine when hamzah snatches the headphones off your head. quickly, you turn around on the chair to face your boyfriend. a big smile forms on your face. “hello!” you say.

hamzah pouts, “thought you weren’t home.” he says, pulling your body effortlessly off the chair so you can stand in front of him. “i missed you so fuckin’ much you have no idea.” he admitted

“hey, i missed you too.” you murmur as his body melts with yours in a tight hug.

you can feel how he inhales your scent, his hands slide to your waist too, gripping so hard you think it might bruise. he groans into the hug, a desperate sound erupting from his throat. and then you know whats up.

“you okay, love?” you ask, trying to pull away to face him but he grips tighter, audibly protesting for you to just stay there with him.

“need you. that’s all.” his voice sounds soft, still low and deep per usual. but you get to hear the smallness of his words, the warm sound of need.

“it’s fine, need you too…” you quietly admit, not breaking the hug still.

and the scene is just weird. how you two stand in the middle of the room, embracing each other and balancing as you try not to lose yourself and fall on the floor from how hard he hugs you

“bed, please?” he asks after a moment.

you nod. “yeah, bed.”

for the first time, he breaks the hug but only to quickly get rid of his shoes, he takes off the beanie he was wearing and pulls your hand so you can lay on the bed with him.

“you’re very warm, you feel good?” you ask, a tone of worry sliding out of your question.

his cheeks are flushed and eyes teary, he looks so stupidly good though, something about his needy image invites you, attracts you even more.

“i feel good now that i’m with you.” hamzah holds your hand in his, bringing it up to his face and just keeping it there.

“love you so much, yeah?” you say, caressing his features and letting him lean into your touch.

cozy. very cozy.

“get closer, please.” he pleaded, and when you didn’t move as fast as he would’ve liked, he took matters into his own hands. his hands gripped your hips, pulling them towards his own body, the space between you both nonexistent.

he kissed your neck desperately, hungrily, almost like he was starving.

“so fuckin’ pretty, ma.” he breathed out, a whine catching up inside your throat. that pet name always made you fuzzy inside.

“are you sure you’re okay, hamzah?” you were worried by how he was behaving. not worried in a bad manner, but surprised.

it seemed that now, the words had vanished from his brain, he acted completely out of impulse.

“mmhm, yeah.” he shifted on the bed, placing his leg over yours. “just… really fuckin’ need you right now… always do.” he kissed your shoulder and you shivered at the feeling of his lips on your body.

each time felt like the first time.

“tell me, hamzah.” your voice came out like a whisper, but it was fine.

his eyes opened and stared at you, the vague lighting of the room felt almost painful as it hit his sight.

“what?” big hazy eyes penetrating your figure, he almost wanted to swallow your image, engrave it onto his brain.

you gulped. closeness feeling way too intense now. you liked it.

“tell me what you need me to do.” he groaned at your words, licking his lips almost instinctively.

he was nervous all of sudden.

“i- i don’t know.” hamzah felt so small, so braindead.

every single time he was with you, he felt as if some switch inside his brain turned off, leaving you all the thinking work.

“i think you do know, yeah.” your hand traveled to his cheek, all the way down to his neck, and you let it rest there.

you felt him swallow, his adam’s apple bobbed up and down.

“can you- uh, …please?” so fucked, that’s how he felt. you had barely done anything more than just exist, and yet he was fucked. how pathetic.

“hey, hey, words.” you tighten the grip on his neck, not enough to choke, just enough to feel his blood flowing through the veins.

he whined just so beautifully.

“y/n… p-please…” his lower lip trembled and you knew what he wanted. still, you waited for him to tell you. “can i kiss you?” please please say yes.

a smile appeared on your face and you nodded slowly. so tempting.

“sure.” finally, you thought.

he wasted no time, cupping your face with his big hands, and getting to taste your lips after what felt like ages.

oh how soft, how delicate. he melted right then and there, some part of his mind became mush, and all he could do was keep kissing you, it was messy, so desperate.

however, you started feeling needy too. a feeling so complex to understand. a feeling only hamzah could fill.

like an emptiness inside that you knew only he could fill up.

hamzah’s tongue pressed between your lips and you parted them, allowing him in. you couldn’t help but giggle at the feeling, at how he was practically desperately grinding his hips onto you without shame.

this man, you swore, couldn’t kiss you without getting his dick hard, and that was just the effect you had on him.

“oww, f-fuck, ‘s good” he breathed out, a whine almost. “you’re so pretty, i could eat you.” he said, his hands moved up and down your torso, feeling you up in such a hungry manner.

“damn…” you said quite surprised at his words.

as you were starting to feel not enough contact, you shifted on the bed, breaking the kiss for a moment, hamzah’s eyes stared at you worried, afraid he might’ve done something you didn’t like.

“wha-?”

“hold on, don’t be desperate.” you giggled, kindly pushing hamzah back on the pillows and straddling him.

“can’t help it, sorry…”

he groaned when you sat on his lap, your body perfectly pressing his.

“love you so much, y’know that? love every single thing about you, pretty boy.” your hands found support on his shoulders, he enjoyed this position so much, he got to see your face and at the same time found a nice good friction.

“god i love you, i love you, love you so m-much.” his hands gripped your hips once again, and he thrusted up to feel you. the hardness inside his sweats was painful, and only you could help him out with it. he closed his eyes when you grinded down too, your core pressing with him oh so perfectly.

“open.” you said, soft voice made him melt.

hamzah opened his mouth, eyes closed still, his cheeks so red and tongue wetting his lower lip.

you shook your head with a smile, letting an airy laugh slip past your lips. god he was so fucking cute like this.

“your eyes, silly, i meant open your eyes.”

“oh…” he giggled nervously, a new side of him you didn’t quite know about he had just showed. “sorry, baby…” he pulled up to kiss your lips once again, a peck this time.

“it’s okay, you’re pretty.”

fuck, hamzah could dry hump you for eternity. his hips were kinda tired, he wanted you to do the work for him, however, he couldn’t let you, he didn’t wanna be a bother. though, he wasn’t.

“wanna make you cum..” you said breaking the comfortable silence. not very much of a silence, since his moans would constantly be adorning the space surrounding you.

“j-just… do it- please, please i’ll do anything, i promise…” hamzah pleaded once again. it was weird. so cute though, you loved when he did that. that thing with his eyes, the lust, the love.

his hips began to stutter, was he close from just humping?

“gonna take these off, okay?” you said, asking for an already given permission.

he nodded so fucking fast you thought his head was gonna fall off his neck.

hamzah admired your actions, how you got off his lap to pull his sweats off, and he just let you do it. he felt like putty, like something maleable for you to play with. he liked feeling that way.

“pretty. very pretty.” you praised his bulge, taking your time to take his briefs off. almost like you wanted to tease him.

“s-stop…” he felt nervous. even if you had seen him plenty of times, still got nervous when you praised him.

“want me to stop?” you asked, attentively. your eyes scanned his figure, looking for any discomfort. you found any.

“no! no! please j-just keep going!” you took that as a cue to start. “fuck!” a high pitched moan left his soul.

his eyes rolled back when your flat hand placed over his clothed boner, and an idea popped into your head.

“do it yourself.” you bluntly said.

his eyes opened wide, looking worried and confused. he opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out.

“i want you to do it, hamzah. please yourself, come on.” you explained better.

“b-but…”

“shh, i know you can do it, yeah? you’re such a good boy, aren’t you? so pretty for me, so sweet, so obedient… c’mon.”

he groaned again, his cock twitching inside his briefs as you praised him once again. he nodded slowly, feeling dizzy all of sudden.

shaky hands took over, hamzah slipped his dick out of his underwear and shakily touched the leaking tip. fuck, he felt so stupid, almost like all his self-pleasing knowledge had been forgotten all of sudden.

“mmhmm, shit..” he cursed under his breath when it twitched again, leaking this ridiculous amount of precum just at the thought of you watching him jerk off.

he could feel your sight on him, so expectant.

“go ahead, love.” you encouraged him, sitting closer to him, your hand on his thigh. he shivered at the touch.

“o-okay, gonna start now..” he felt as if he needed your permission, which you had given him already.

his hand wrapped around his shaft, it felt slippery and wet from all the stimulation that kissing and humping you had given him. he moaned, satisfied. his thumb circled around the head, sliding easily, and then, when his hand tightened, he stroked all the way down.

“oh god, god, oh f-fuck, y/n?” it felt so surreal. he had jerked off infinite times before this, why was he so fucking sensitive now?

your hand caressed his thigh. “yeah?”

“n-nothing.”

“keep going, you’re doing very good.” you moved closer to kiss his temple, lovingly and gently.

hamzah stroked up, and then down again. he was going at a very steady pace, trying his best not to cum quickly, since he wanted you to know how much he could handle.

not much.

“gonna tell me what has you so needy?” you asked all of sudden. and then, hamzah thought it was rather interesting to have a conversation while he was pounding it.

“uh…i- i think it’s just w-work,” he managed to reply. “been away all week..” he added after a groan, slowing down his movements.

“don’t stop.” you warned, moving your hand to engulf his own, as you helped him jerk off, steadying his shaky moves. “missed me, huh?”

“fuck yeah, a lot.” mhmm. “missed y-your voice a-and you… and your touch and, and this…” his eyebrows knitted together, he opened his mouth to moan but it was silent when you made his hand stop. “p-please, keep going…” he begged.

“you do it, love.” you said, letting his own hand move and the other hand gripped the sheets so hard you thought he was gonna rip them apart.

the wet sounds of hamzah’s skin, the lewd sounds of his hand sliding up and down his dick filled the room. it made you unbelievably worked up seeing him so desperate. it was very pretty.

he was starting to jerk off quicker, the speed alarming you. short moans came out of his throat, curses too.

“ah, ah, ah- shit! wanna cum… gonna-, c-can i?” his movements erratic and inconsistent, the glistening clear fluid coating his hand entirely from how messy he had been.

he had been so good, waiting all week for you. even if he was away filming and you were busy with college. he had been patient and waited until you both could get intimate. so good.

“cum, hamzah, be good for me, okay?” you squeezed his thigh again, giving him reassurance.

he moaned loudly, his breathing stopped, it caught up on his throat.

“wanna fill you up, god, wanna fill you up so bad, s-so bad..” he rambled slurring his words.

inside his mind, the image of him filling you up with his warm cum. it always helped him reach a decent, more than good orgasm.

your thighs pressed together and your eyes widen at his words. you bit your lower lip, anticipating his release. a small, needy whine escaped from your lips.

hamzah’s free hand looked blindly for yours, awaiting to hold onto something while he let himself go. you linked your hands and he then, only felt like he could cum.

“o-oh fuck! y/n, y/n!” there we go, his low voice carried out a cry, so pathetic. he kept stroking, wanting to let out all the built up cum he had been accumulating all damn week. “owww…” he sobbed.

hamzah’s shaky hands let go of his shaft and he opened his eyes slowly. he looked down at the mess he had made. a puddle of cum settled on his tummy, part of the sheets and his hands.

you giggled, snapping him out of his trance. hamzah looked at you with droopy eyes, tired and sleepy. he smiled lazily. silently thanking you for everything you did for him.

“y/n, i love you.” he said after a while of just trying to catch his breath.

you took his hand, the one that had cum all over, and held it up. he looked at you anticipating, those big brown eyes staring directly at your soul.

then, you did it. you licked his fingers, tasting him in your mouth. his eyes widened, the sight of you practically eating his cum made him warm all over. the knot inside his tummy started to tighten once again.

“oww… you’re gross.” he playfully said scrunching up his nose. blatantly lying. he found it hot.

“nah, you are gross, look at this mess!” you pointed at the messy sheets. hamzah rolled his eyes and sighed, tired.

“your fault.” he giggled.

kinda your fault for how fucking adorable you were. your fault for making hamzah so stupidly horny. your fault for making him love you so much.

“need to clean you up, though.” you were going to get up and look for wipes but he held your hand, dragging you back in the bed with him.

“stay with me.” he said, looking at you with those eyes he knew you loved. persuading you into just laying there. next to him.

you couldn’t say no to him, not ever. so you gave in. you threw yourself on the pillows and held his hand. your breathing synced with hamzah’s.

realisation hit you then. you leaned up to peek and held a laugh when you saw the image in front of you. hamzah’s hand gripped yours as he felt you moving. you blinked.

“your dick is still out.”

post nut clarity hit hamzah too, however he was too calm and comfy to do anything about it.

“yeah, i know..”

“okay.” you smiled, leaning your head on his shoulder. he leaned his on yours too, “i love you”

“mhmm, love ya’ so fuckin’ much too, ma, so much, you don’t even imagine…” hamzah snuggled closer to you, the warmth comfiness of your body next to his calmed his nerves.

comfortable silence filled the room, as your tender love filled the void.

>_<

sorry this took so long and sorry this sucks but i smoked some weed and kinda just vomited words and this came out bye

[l4ndonorizz]

the dare / lando norris x reader

pairing: lando norris x reader

song: gorillaz - dare

summary: a casual night of drinks with friends turns into something more when lando dares you to take a leap—literally and emotionally. What starts as playful tension soon leads to confessions of long-hidden feelings, and a kiss that changes everything between you

wc: 2.3k

The evening had started like any other—casual drinks with friends, the sound of laughter and chatter filling the warm night air. You were all gathered at a beachside bar, the ocean in the background, and the atmosphere relaxed. It was the kind of night where everything felt easy, and nothing was planned.

Lando had been his usual self—charming, playful, always the center of attention without really trying. You couldn’t help but be drawn to him, even when you tried to focus on the group conversation. He had that effect on everyone, but lately, it felt like his attention was a little more focused on you.

As the night wore on, and more drinks flowed, the group’s energy shifted to something more playful. A few rounds of truth or dare had already been thrown around, with people taking turns doing silly challenges or confessing embarrassing secrets. You’d managed to dodge anything too wild so far, but when Lando’s eyes met yours, a grin spread across his face that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Alright,” he said, leaning back in his chair, his gaze fixed on you. “I dare you to do something.”

You raised an eyebrow, half-expecting him to challenge you to chug your drink or answer a ridiculous question. “What kind of dare?”

His grin widened. “Something fun. Something that gets you out of your comfort zone.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Like what?”

Lando gestured toward the nearby pier, where a group of people had gathered around a tall diving board that jutted out over the water. The platform was lit by a few scattered lights, and you could hear the splash of people jumping into the ocean below.

“How about a leap off that diving board?” he suggested, his tone light but his eyes sparkling with mischief.

You glanced at the board, feeling your stomach flip. Heights weren’t exactly your thing, and Lando knew that. But the way he looked at you—challenging, playful—made it hard to say no.

You groaned, throwing your head back dramatically. “Seriously? You couldn’t have dared me to sing karaoke or something?”

Lando chuckled, leaning closer, his voice dropping to a soft murmur. “You could do that too, if you want. But I think the diving board will be way more fun.”

You bit your lip, debating whether to back out. But you knew you couldn’t—not with the way everyone was looking at you now, waiting to see what you’d do.

“Fine,” you said, standing up and giving Lando a pointed look. “But if I do this, you have to do something just as crazy.”

Lando’s grin widened, and he stood up beside you, extending his hand for a shake. “Deal.”

The group cheered as you made your way toward the pier, your heart pounding in your chest. The cool night air brushed against your skin as you walked, and the closer you got to the diving board, the more your nerves started to kick in.

“Still feeling brave?” Lando teased as he walked beside you, his shoulder brushing against yours.

You shot him a look. “I’m not backing out, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Good,” he said, his voice softening. “You’ve got this.”

There was something in his tone that made your heart skip a beat—like this wasn’t just about a silly dare anymore. The air between you felt charged, like the playful tension had shifted into something more serious, something that neither of you had addressed yet.

As you climbed up the steps to the diving board, you could feel Lando’s eyes on you, watching your every move. The board swayed slightly beneath your feet as you reached the edge, and you took a deep breath, staring down at the water far below.

“Just jump,” you muttered to yourself, trying to psych yourself up.

But then you heard Lando’s voice, soft but steady, cutting through your nerves. “I’m right here. You’re gonna be fine.”

You glanced back at him, standing at the base of the steps, his expression serious but encouraging. And in that moment, something clicked. This wasn’t just about the dive anymore. It was about the unspoken tension between you—the months of playful banter, the lingering looks, the way he made you feel seen in a way no one else did.

Taking one more deep breath, you closed your eyes and took the leap.

The fall felt endless, your heart racing as the wind rushed past you, and then—splash.

The cold water enveloped you, shocking your system but also filling you with a sense of exhilaration. When you surfaced, gasping for air, you could hear the cheers from your friends on the pier, and through the noise, you saw Lando grinning down at you, his eyes shining with pride.

You swam back to the dock, pulling yourself up onto the wooden platform, dripping and breathless. Lando was the first to meet you, his hand extended to help you up.

“You did it!” he said, his voice filled with genuine excitement.

You laughed, wiping the water from your face. “Yeah, and now it’s your turn to do something crazy.”

Lando smirked, still holding your hand. “I’m not sure I can top that.”

“You’d better try,” you teased, your pulse still racing—not just from the jump, but from the way his hand lingered on yours, his thumb brushing over your skin in a way that made your breath catch.

The group began to filter back toward the bar, leaving you and Lando standing on the dock, the sound of the waves lapping against the pier. The energy between you shifted again, the playful tension giving way to something heavier, more charged.

Lando’s eyes searched yours, the playful smirk fading as he stepped a little closer. “You know, you didn’t have to do that. I wouldn’t have pushed you.”

You shrugged, trying to play it off even though your heart was pounding. “A dare’s a dare.”

He nodded, his gaze never leaving yours. “Yeah, but I think there’s more to this than just a dare, don’t you?”

Your breath caught at the intensity in his voice, and you realized with a start that he wasn’t talking about the dive anymore. The air between you felt thick with everything you hadn’t said, all the moments that had led up to this—the teasing, the looks, the way he always seemed to be right there, just a little too close for it to be purely platonic.

“What are you saying, Lando?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He took a deep breath, his eyes softening as he reached up to gently tuck a strand of wet hair behind your ear. “I’m saying that maybe it’s time we stop pretending this is just a game.”

Lando’s words hung in the air, his hand still lingering by your cheek as you stood frozen, heart racing. The noise from the bar and your friends had faded into the background, leaving just the two of you in this bubble, on the edge of something you’d both been avoiding for so long.

“Stop pretending?” you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper.

He smiled softly, his gaze unwavering. “Yeah. I think we’ve been pretending for a while now.”

You swallowed, your mind reeling as you tried to process the weight of his words. It wasn’t like you hadn’t thought about it—about him, about the chemistry that simmered between you—but you’d always brushed it off, convinced that it was just part of the playful banter you shared.

But now, standing here with him, so close that you could feel the warmth radiating off his body, you realized that maybe you hadn’t been imagining it. Maybe there really was more.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. “Lando, I—”

Before you could finish, he stepped closer, his hand moving from your cheek to your waist, pulling you just a little closer to him. The proximity made your head spin, the scent of the ocean mixing with the faint traces of his cologne.

“I’ve liked you for a while now,” he confessed quietly, his voice so soft you almost didn’t hear it. “But I didn’t want to ruin what we have. I didn’t want to push you into something you didn’t want.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, every nerve in your body suddenly alive with the weight of his words. “I didn’t know you felt that way,” you admitted, your voice shaky. “I mean, I thought maybe sometimes, but I didn’t want to… assume.”

Lando chuckled softly, his thumb brushing gently against your waist. “You’re not assuming anything. I’ve been trying to hold back because I wasn’t sure how you felt. But now, standing here with you, I just… I can’t pretend anymore.”

The vulnerability in his voice, the way his eyes searched yours for some kind of reassurance, made your heart swell with warmth. He wasn’t just being playful or teasing this time—this was real, raw, and honest.

You took a deep breath, your chest tightening with the realization that you felt the same way. “I think I’ve liked you for a while too,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I just didn’t know what to do about it.”

Lando’s eyes lit up with a mix of relief and excitement, his grip on your waist tightening slightly. “So… what do we do now?”

You couldn’t help but smile at the simplicity of the question, like the answer was both obvious and terrifying all at once. “I guess we stop pretending.”

Lando grinned, that familiar mischievous glint in his eyes, but this time it was softer, more intimate. “Yeah. I think that sounds like a good plan.”

Before you could say anything else, he closed the small gap between you, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was gentle, almost tentative, like he was giving you the chance to pull away if you wanted to. But you didn’t. Instead, you melted into him, your hands finding their way to his chest as you deepened the kiss, your heart pounding in your ears.

The world around you disappeared, leaving just the feeling of his lips on yours, his hands on your waist, pulling you closer like he’d been waiting for this moment for months—maybe even longer. It wasn’t a rushed kiss, or one filled with the frantic energy of something long overdue. It was slow, deliberate, filled with all the emotions you’d both kept bottled up for so long.

When you finally pulled back, both of you slightly breathless, Lando rested his forehead against yours, his eyes still closed, like he was savoring the moment.

“Wow,” he whispered, a small smile tugging at his lips. “That was… worth the wait.”

You laughed softly, your hands still resting on his chest. “Yeah. Definitely.”

For a moment, neither of you said anything, just standing there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the cool night air brushing against your skin. The playful banter that usually defined your relationship had given way to something deeper, something that felt more real than anything you’d ever experienced before.

After a while, Lando pulled back slightly, his hand still resting on your waist. “So… does this mean I win the dare?”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. “Oh, shut up.”

Lando laughed, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he leaned down to press a quick kiss to your forehead. “I’m serious! I dared you to do something outside your comfort zone, and look what happened.”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms over your chest. “I don’t think kissing you was part of the dare.”

“Maybe not,” he said with a grin. “But I’d say it was a pretty good result.”

You shook your head, unable to stop the smile that tugged at your lips. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, you still kissed me,” he teased, his hands finding their way back to your waist.

You bit your lip, trying to hide the smile that was threatening to break free. “Yeah, well… I guess I don’t regret it.”

Lando’s expression softened, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that made your breath catch. “Neither do I,” he whispered, his voice barely above a murmur.

The weight of his words, the sincerity in his gaze, made your heart flutter in a way that you couldn’t ignore. This wasn’t just some silly dare, or a fleeting moment of fun between friends—this was real. And it was something you both had been avoiding for far too long.

As the night continued, you and Lando made your way back to the bar where your friends were still hanging out, but everything felt different now. The playful teasing between you had shifted into something more meaningful, and as you sat down beside him, you couldn’t help but feel like the air between you was lighter, easier.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of laughter and conversation, but every time you caught Lando’s eye, you were reminded of the kiss, of the unspoken feelings that had finally been brought to the surface. It wasn’t just a dare anymore—it was something more, something that had been brewing between you for months.

And as the night drew to a close and Lando walked you home, his hand wrapped around yours, you couldn’t help but feel like everything had changed. Not in a drastic, life-altering way, but in a quiet, steady way that made you realize that this—whatever it was between you and Lando—wasn’t just a fleeting moment.

It was the start of something real.