#they opened the door with the same expression and that's what matters

[suh-lee]

' explore ' - frontman

𐔌♯ pairing — dom top hwang inho/youngil/player 001 x sub bottom amab!reader

𐔌♯ warnings — smut mdni, CONSENTUAL, inho is mxm virgin, previous and current mentions of manipulation, age gap implied, masculine pronouns and titles for reader, this is not alpha omega but reader is lowk in heat, safe word and kinks are discussed mid-story, inho is referred to as youngil since that is what reader knows him as at this point in the story

𐔌♯ word count — 2,016

𐔌♯ authors note — i need him so bad omg. NOT PROOFREAD !! pls send me squid game recs in my ask box 🫤🫤😖😖

"ya, yn." you heard someone call from behind you, causing you to turn around. you were met with young-il, one of the people whom you had gotten close with during your time locked in this facility.

"hyung!" you exclaimed happily as you saw him alive after the excruciating game of mingle each player had just participated in. he walked in with a serious expression on his face.. you stared at him, trying to get a glimpse into what he was thinking.

now that you think about it, the round where he had to separate from your group, he walked out of a room alone.. that wouldn't have been allowed..? and how did he guess that the final round would be two players per room, no matter if it was slightly logical.

you pushed aside these doubtful feelings toward your hyung and just decided to talk to him after lights out once he watches over our group of players.

"hyung.." you said in a whispered tone as you crawled out from your bunk bed and sat next to him on the stairs.

"yn-ah.. why are you awake? you need rest for the games tomorrow, and your bones are still developing to their full potential. sleep will help with that." young-il said to you quietly, looking at you with a concerned look but having no real emotion behind his eyes, which you took note of.

you darted your eyes away from him for a moment, trying to find how to phrase your words. "could i talk to you..? in private.." you said, tilting your head toward the door that could lead to the bathroom.

young-il quietly nodded and peaked around the large room, filled with countless bunk-beds. he stood up after a moment, walking to the door thay lead to the hallway and knocked on the door.

a guard peaked his head through the window, about to object, but he had seen who was at the door. the guard frantically nodded and opened the door quickly, allowing you and young-il to walk to the bathroom alone.

he held the door open for you, allowing you to walk through and closing it after he entered behind you. he turned a lock on the door and turned toward you, "what did you want?"

"can i ask you a few things?" you spoke softly, receiving a small nod from young-il.

"one.. why do the guards practically ignore you when you do something wrong...? and why didn't i see you in the first game.. or the short time before that..?" you asked, looking at him directly in the eye, attempting to confront him.

he let out a soft smirk at your questions, eyeing you up and down, "you ask too many questions.." he mumbled as he took a step closer toward you, "why all of a sudden are you so cautious??"

"i was there during the first game.. i just tried to blend in the background, using the other players to hide my body.." he said in a confident tone, slowly replanting the seed of trust back into you. "and.. i wouldn't say the guards ignore me.. i just haven't done really anything that they would have to kill, or acknowledge, me for. that's why they turn a blind eye toward me.. i imagine if i did do anything wrong, i would have the same fate as the others.. but, we don't want to test that theory out.. now do we?"

you looked at him as he spoke, he truly had your undivided attention. as he started to explain himself, you were able to understand his reasoning.. but oh my god, something about his confidence mixed with the stereotypically attractive face he had. it drove you insane.

"y..yeah.. that makes sense... sorry if it seemed as if i was doubting you. it's just- you can never be sure here... anybody could be a person in power and we wouldn't know."

"i understand, yn." he said, his usual warm smile on his face, "do you still have your doubts against me?"

"they've been... decreased.. i have no reason to fully trust you, but i also have no reason to believe your lying at the moment. i do hope you're being truthful, though."

"..that's a very smart mindset you have..." he said with a nod, before continuing "especially for an environment like this one. we never know a person's true motives, just as they don't know ours."

you nodded at him, but you weren't really listening. glancing at him up and down, your eyes clearly betrayed you. he started to go on about how trust was a very fragile thing, but you could only comprehend a few words.

he laughed as he noticed the daze you seemed to be in, "are you listening?"

"oh.. sorry!" you spoke quickly.

he listened to your apology with a small smile, looking at you from top to bottom, slowly analyzing everything about your body. his stare coming back up to your face after a long minute of silence.

"you know.. you're kinda cute.." he said after a moment, leaving you stunned as he finished, "and i get an urge that you feel an attraction, of the sort, to me... now, please tell me if i'm wrong."

you stared at him blankly. he read you like a book. you tried to find a way to brush it off, but there was nothing that you could think of. "..i guess you're right." you said in a shy tone.

he looked at you with a small smirk, "well.. im not experienced on homosexual intimacy much.. but i could always. i sense the feeling that you want me in this very moment.. would that be wrong?" he said, leaving you to frantically shake you head, he was right, and you wanted him to know it. he was getting you desperate.

"hmm... well, as far as i know.. we'll be alone in here for a while, most of the other players are probably sleeping at the moment..." he said, diverting his gaze away from you for a moment before looking back at your widened eyes. "shall we start..?"

"uhm.. yes.." you said, looking at him, waiting for him to continue doing something, whether that be an action or more speech.

"what are you into.. and what are you not into.." he said, waiting for you to respond.

you mentioned a list of things, but the few you listed first all seemed to be pain related, and that intrigued youngil. "do you have a safeword..?"

you nodded and said your safeword, receiving a nod from him. "is there anything else men talk about before they have intercourse?" he asked, receiving a small chuckle from you.

"not really... it's basically the same as any intercourse.. just one less hole to find." you joked before asking, "then, are you ready."

"of course.." he said before untying the drawstring on the bottoms of the tracksuit, letting them be loose around the waist. you did the same thing, except everything went off.

the cold breeze went through the air, hitting your unclothed body and giving you shivers.

young-il looked at your nude body for a moment, taking in the sight of your figure, before doing the same.

you looked at his nude body after he managed to get everything off, trying to resist the pleased smile you had been wanting to place on your face. you slowly kneeled down on the mint green tiles, the temperature no longer being an issue. as you stared at his dick, you could almost watch it slowly rise. he was clearly enjoying this as much as you were. you placed your hands on his balls and placed your mouth on the tip, slowly teasing it by moving your mouth down once, and immediately removing your lips.

he glanced down at you, making eye contact. he clearly was not pleased with your teasing. his intimidating glare made you get back to work, bopping your head up and down his cock and having your tongue wiggle down it strategically.

young-il had let a small groan escape from his lips before quickly letting more follow. this reaction had you more than pleased, making your speed increase and letting your hands start to tease his balls.

"can i?" he asked through pants. you nodded, your mouth still on his dick as he let his semen release. the warm licked spilled onto your tongue and coated the back of your throat. you left it in there for a minute before swallowing it. looking back up at him with pleading eyes.

"you're too cute." he mumbled, leaning down to place his hand on your shoulder, slowly rubbing back and forth. "and so eager.." young-il continued, crouching down to be face to face with you.

young-il grabbed your face in a possibly rough way, his hand on your chin as he held your face close to his. he smirked for a moment before moving his face in, placing his lips on yours. the kiss quickly became heated, the two tongues fighting for dominance as you ran your hands all around his body. the kiss went on for a long while, his arms wrapping around your waist and leaning your body into his.

opening his eyes, young-il took a look at your desperate demeanor. he smiled in the kiss and slowly pulled away, gaining a small whine from you. youngil observed your body once more before carefully lowering you onto the tiles of the bathroom floor. your dick was desperately hard and seeking for any sort of friction, so when he finally rubbed a hand on your dick, you let out a breathy moan. the volume of that moan echoed throughout the bathroom, and it wouldn't be shocking if it reached the hallways too.. but that was honestly the least of your worries. he grabbed your dick and stroked up and down on it. he was damn good at a handjob. it didn't take long for you to go over the edge, long streams of white liquid emerging from your cock and landing into his hand and all over the floor.

young-il smiled at you, helping you turn around on the floor, your torso and face laying on the tiles. he stood up and washed his hands thoroughly before leaning back down and placing his hands on your ass, carefully massaging it before taking a finger and sliding it into your butt, moving it inward and outward at a slow pace, slowly starting to stretch you out. it didn't hurt.. if anything, you could barely feel it.. until he slid the second finger in. he curled one finger and kept the other straight, allowing him to reach more unexplored places in you. this didn't go on for a long while, both of you quickly losing patience.

young-il slid his fingers out of you and quickly aligned his dick with your asshole, rubbing it against a few times before slowly sliding into you. you groaned loudly as you tried to adjust to his size. he smirked as your back went into more of an arch shape. he placed both of his hands on your sides, using it to hold you stable and keep you from slamming into the hard tiles of the floor. the speed of him slowly started to increase as he got closer to his high.

"do you want it in or out..?" he said with a groan.

"..out.." even if you couldn't see it, he nodded and slammed into you a few more times before pulling out and letting his semen coat your back. as he finished, you quickly turned yourself around and wrapped your hand around your cock, stroking yourself to finish your high. the pants that escaped your lips filled the room before a loud moan followed, your semen falling on the floor once more.

you looked at young-il with a defeated smile, the exhaust of your body hitting you. he looked back at you, landing a small kiss on your lips. this was going to be a memory you both will remember for a while.

[kazmura]

‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ jungwon x fem!idol, 1.7k, est relationship angst to fluff, ‎‎‎ catching your boyfriend and his stylist backstage sharing hugs right before your performance (?!?)

› cat boy collection

Nerves churned in your stomach as you paced back and forth in your green room, the energy in the air buzzing with anticipation. Your palms were clammy, and your heart pounded against your chest as you glanced at the clock. Fifteen minutes left until stage time. Your group members were scattered around, chatting and warming up, but you couldn’t bring yourself to sit still.

Your thoughts drifted to Jungwon, your beloved boyfriend of three years, whose group was set to perform right after yours. Normally his presence calmed you, he grounded you when the pre-performance jitters hit. But tonight the nerves were relentless.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. Maybe seeing him would help. Immediately you stepped out of the green room, ignoring the curious looks from your group mates and started walking down the hallway to his room.

As you approached the slightly ajar door, the sound of soft laughter reached your ears. It was a sound you knew all too well, one that usually brought comfort and warmth. You hesitated for a moment, the corners of your lips curving into a small smile as you imagined the sight of him.

But as you peeked in, that smile vanished in an instant. There he was, standing close to one of the stylists, her arms wrapped around him in a hug. Your heart sank, a sharp pang cutting through your chest. The way they stood, so close and familiar, made your stomach churn.

You stood frozen, unable to look away, mind racing with questions. Was it innocent? Was there more to it? But the ache in your chest told you that, no matter the reason, it hurt all the same.

At first, you tried to brush it off as nothing more than a friendly hug. But then she moved closer, her hand lingering on his shoulder as she leaned up on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to the side of his face. Your heart sank, the pain sharp and immediate, making it harder to breathe as the nerves flared up even worse then before.

Quickly turning and walking away, your vision blurred with unshed tears. Each step felt heavier than the last, the image of them replaying in your mind like a cruel loop. By the time you reached your green room, your chest felt tight, and your hands trembled as you tried to steady yourself. And although you knew in the back of your mind that Jungwon would never do anything to hurt you, the sight before you was enough to plant a million seeds of doubt in your heart.

The stage manager's call snapped you back to reality. There was no time to process what you had seen, no time to let the emotions overwhelm you. You had a show to perform, and the world was waiting.

-

The performance was a blur. You danced and sang with all the energy you could muster, but your heart wasn’t in it. The cheers from the crowd felt distant, drowned out by the memory of what you had seen.

After the show, you returned backstage, sinking into the corner of your green room as the adrenaline faded. The room buzzed with the excitement of your groupmates, their laughter and cheers filling the space, but it all felt distant. You hugged your knees to your chest, mind replaying the moment you had tried so hard to push aside during the performance.

The door creaked open, and you glanced up to see Jungwon step in, his face lighting up when his eyes met yours. His performance must have just ended, his energy was still radiating as he crossed the room toward you.

“There’s my girl,” he said excitedly , his voice soft as he leaned down to pull you into a hug.

You instinctively stepped back, pushing his hands away to stop him.

His brows furrowed, the smile slipping from his face. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his tone laced with concern as he searched your expression for answers.

You averted your gaze, your arms wrapping tighter around yourself. “Nothing. I’m just tired,” you said quickly, but the tremor in your voice betrayed you.

Jungwon crouched down to your level, his eyes scanning yours. “I can tell something’s wrong. Did something happen? Did I do something wrong?”

Your throat tightened as you fought to keep the tears at bay. “I don’t want to talk about it,” you whispered, voice breaking slightly.

“Hey,” he said softly, his hand reaching out to gently touch your arm, but you pulled away, the hurt in your chest flaring up all over again.

“Please, Jungwon,” you said, finally meeting his gaze. “Just… give me some space.”

His expression fell, the hurt evident in his eyes as he nodded slowly, his hand dropping back to his side. “Okay,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I’m here when you’re ready to talk.”

He stood up, hesitating for a moment before walking away, glancing back at you one last time with a look that made your heart ache even more. You buried your face in your hands, the weight of your emotions pressing down on you as the door clicked shut behind him.

-

Later that night, you sat in your dorm, the events of the day still weighing heavily on your heart. The room was quiet, save for the soft hum of the air conditioning, but your thoughts were anything but still. You hugged a pillow to your chest, staring blankly at the television playing in the background.

A sudden knock at the door startled you, pulling you from your thoughts. Your heart leaped in your chest as you hesitated.

You approached the door cautiously, peeking through the peephole. Breath hitching when you saw Jungwon standing there, his head lowered, a cap pulled low over his face, and a mask covering his features. Despite the disguise, you could tell it was him.

Quickly, you unlocked the door and yanked him inside, closing it just as fast. “Are you crazy?” you whispered harshly, your eyes darting toward the windows. “What if someone saw you?”

He pulled down his mask, revealing his puffy, red-rimmed eyes. “I had to see you,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. “I couldn’t leave things like this.”

Your heart softened at the sight of him, but the ache in your chest lingered. “Why are you here, Jungwon?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

He stepped closer, his gaze full of concern. “You’ve been acting strange and ignoring my messages all day. Did I do something wrong? Please, just tell me.”

You bit your lip, the lump in your throat growing heavier. You turned away, hugging the pillow tighter. “I don’t know if I can do this right now,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

“Do what?” he asked, his tone urgent as he reached for your hand. “Talk to me. Please.”

You hesitated, but the hurt in his voice made you finally look up at him. “I saw you,” you said quietly. “In the green room… with her.”

His brows furrowed in confusion. “With who?”

“The stylist,” you clarified, your voice breaking. “She hugged you, kissed you even and you just stood there. it felt like I didn’t even matter.”

Realization dawned on his face, and he immediately shook his head. “No, no, it’s not what you think,” he said quickly, his voice filled with urgency. “She hugged me out of nowhere and put her lips on me, I didn’t know what to do. I told her it made me uncomfortable and asked her not to do it again. I swear, it meant nothing. I didn’t even want it to happen. I already told the manager about it.”

You searched his eyes, your heart wavering as his words sank in. “You told her off?”

“I did,” he said firmly, stepping closer. “Because the only person I want to hold and touch me is you. You’re the only one who matters to me.”

Your chest tightened, tears welling in your eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“I didn’t know you saw,” he admitted, his voice softening. “If I had known, I would’ve cleared it up right away. I hate that I made you feel like this.”

You looked at him, his puffy eyes and trembling hands evidence of how much he cared. Slowly, you let the pillow fall from your arms and stepped closer. “I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions,” you whispered.

He cupped your face gently, his thumbs brushing away the tears that spilled down your cheeks. “You don’t need to apologize. I just want you to know how much I love you.”

Before you could respond, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a deep, passionate kiss. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close as the kiss deepened, conveying every ounce of love and reassurance he could.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and teary-eyed, he rested his forehead against yours. “I’ll always choose you,” he whispered.

“I know,” you replied, your voice soft but steady. “And I’ll always choose you too.”

this is actually sb and i rushed it 😭 im trying to get better at writing angst since fluff is like my forte pls dont bully me

© kazmura, all rights reserved‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ @kflixnet

[itsnesss]

Hey! Can I make a fluffy request for Lee Myung-Gi in ‘Mingle’, where the reader is his lover and main priority, so he always has her hand in his and she’s with him in every group. And when the number is three, Myung-Gi sees two girls, missing one, and he pushes the reader with them, so she is safe while he looks for two more people to mingle with?? Thank you!!🫶

𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 | lee myung-gi (player 333) × fem!reader

summary | the request

warnings | fluff, game survival context, angst, anxiety

word count | 1.9 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩

The rotating platform beneath your feet turns slowly. The stage lights flicker as the sound of the carousel mixes with the echoes of nervous players. The chaos is palpable, but amid it all, you feel a relative calm. The reason: Myung-gi. His hand, firm and warm in yours, gives you a sense of security that you can't find anywhere else in this infernal game.

The speakers emit a shrill sound, followed by the cold, mechanical voice that fills the air announcing the number of people. "6"

Immediately, the players scatter. The pressure starts to build, and you can feel the air growing denser, charged with tension. Groups begin to form rapidly as the doors that await light up with the number six.

"Let's go" Myung-gi says, his voice low but firm. By his side, you move quickly, scanning your surroundings for other players who might complete the necessary group.

Minutes continue to tick by, and the number of people around you starts to dwindle. People continue bumping into each other, desperately searching for companions to complete their groups. Nerves begin to rise, and fear starts to take over. But Myung-gi, as always, is there. He doesn't let go of you, he doesn't leave you. And that gives you the strength to keep going.

The door is getting closer, but the crowd doesn't seem to calm. You see a group of three forming near you, but it’s not enough.

"Over there!" Myung-gi exclaims, pointing to a group that is forming quickly. "Hurry up."

Both of you run towards the group, you join them, and finally, just as there’s barely any time left, the group of six is complete. You feel a deep sense of relief.

Inside the room, you turn to look at Myung-gi, and you can see the same expression of relief on his face. He pulls you closer, hugging you quickly to make sure you're still by his side.

"We made it..." you murmur, your heart still pounding.

After the group is finished and the shots stop, the doors open, and you step out. The carousel begins to spin again, and the voice from the speakers sounds once more. "2"

Relieved to have a partner, the pressure on you eases just a little, only a little since you need to enter a door before it fills. You make it. You imitate the same pattern of waiting for the doors to open, stepping out, and positioning yourselves on the platform.

"3". 3 people.

Time begins to count. You feel the pressure rise, but you don’t let go of Myung-gi’s hand. No matter what happens, no matter the number, you know that as long as you're with him, there’s nothing to worry about.

"Let's go, quickly." His voice is firm, but his expression shows the worry that, though he tries to hide it, he can’t conceal. Both of you look around, quickly searching for the other players who might complete the group of three.

Chaos erupts around you. People start running in all directions, urgently searching for a group that fits the announced number. Myung-gi keeps you by his side, his grip on your hand never loosening, and your steps follow his with precision. You know you can’t fall behind, you can’t lose sight of him. Fear grips you for a second, but Myung-gi gives you the strength you need to keep going.

"Just a little more. Let's go." He whispers, and although you're terrified, that simple phrase gives you the strength to keep going.

Suddenly, someone yells from a side: a group of two people is urgently looking for someone to complete their number. Myung-gi stops abruptly and looks at you, his face full of determination. He knows what this means.

"Go with them." He tells you firmly, pointing to the two girls who are almost about to enter the door. The anxiety in their eyes is obvious. "Don’t worry about me, everything will be fine. If you don’t go with them, they’ll eliminate both of us."

Your breath quickens, and panic fills you. You can’t leave him, you can’t leave him behind. You feel your heart race. The seconds keep ticking, and Myung-gi gently pushes you towards the two girls, who look at you expectantly.

"No!" you shout, terrified. "I don’t want to go without you. I can't."

Time is running out. The doors begin to close. The pressure rises, and Myung-gi, without looking back, gently pushes you toward the girls.

"Please. Do it for us." His voice cracks slightly. "I don’t want to lose you, but if you don’t, we’ll both die."

You can’t answer. You can’t do anything but look into his eyes, those eyes that have shown you so much security, that protection you've always felt when you're near him. But now it's different. He pushes you inside and closes the door with a speed that surprises you.

You feel as if a part of you is being ripped away by doing so. The door closes quickly behind you, and the sound of the carousel is all you can hear. A lump forms in your throat, and for a moment, everything goes dark around you.

You join the girls, but your mind is completely distracted. Thoughts of him torment you. In that moment, time seems to stretch. The fear of losing him consumes you, and no matter how hard you try to calm down, the anxiety doesn’t leave.

But finally, time runs out. Silence fills the arena for a second, eternal. The doors open with a dull sound. It’s the moment you dreaded, but also the moment you waited for.

You step out, your heart still racing. Your eyes search for Myung-gi, desperate. And there he is. You see him, standing in front of you, as if nothing had happened. In his eyes, there’s relief, there’s love, but above all, there’s a strength you’ve never seen before. He looks at you, and in that instant, the world stops.

You throw yourself at him without thinking, running into his arms. He receives you with open arms, and for a moment, everything else disappears. The fear, the anguish, the doubts, all dissolve when you feel his warmth, when you feel that he’s still there, alive, with you.

"I found you." you whisper, relief in your voice is palpable, and tears begin to fall without you being able to stop them.

"I’ll never let you go again. I promise." he says, hugging you so tightly it almost takes your breath away.

You can’t believe you survived, that both of you made it through this infernal game, but you feel more alive than ever.

The world could fall apart, but as long as you’re together, nothing matters. He’s your priority, and you’re his. And that’s all you need to know.

Then, without thinking, you kiss him. A kiss that’s a promise, a pact that nothing will separate you. The chaos continues, the lights flicker, and the game goes on, but in that moment, the only game that matters is the one you play together, one where you always choose each other, always protect each other.

"I love you." you whisper between kisses.

"I know." he responds with a smile, his eyes shining with the same intensity as the first day you met.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Not a Word 3

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, violence, parental abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You live a life in hiding, away from your father and the world, until a man decides to drag you into the light. (non-verbal reader)

Characters: Captain Syverson

Note:😻.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The smell of the roast fills the house as you focus on small tasks, things that aren’t urgent but keep you busy. Sy’s footfalls creak in the floorboard as he looms in the front room. You’re thankful to have him away from you for the time being. You’re confused and concerned about his unannounced arrival. 

You’re not sure what he means. Blessing. You look at the flowers. You’re not stupid. That’s a clear gesture and yet why would he do that for you? Why would he have an interest in you? 

The bigger question, one you can’t answer, how do you feel? Sy is nice enough but he’s scary all the same. Big and boisterous. He’s never done anything to you but you don’t really know him, do you? He doesn’t really know you. Well, this must be his way of getting to know you. 

It’s all a mystery to you. Relationships and all. Even familial one. You know from the movies that what you have with your dad isn’t normal. You can feel that he only really resents you. 

“Smells good,” Sy startles you. 

You peek over your shoulder and close the fridge. You go to the sink to rinse the cloth of the crumbs you wiped off the shelves. You wring it out and hang it to dry over the edge of dish rack. 

“Daddy’s late,” he clucks. “Ain’t he?” 

You look at the clock then him and shrug. He circles the table, pacing as his thick fingers twiddle. As he prowls, you’re reminded of a coyote. They always get into the shed in the hotter months, tearing at the rubbish stored there before truck day. 

“Anything I can help with, sugar? I don’t wanna be in your way,” he offers. 

You shake your head. You turn to the stove and open it slightly to check the roast. Still a bit to go. The potatoes need some softening. You shut it as the floor groans. You peek back and catch only Sy’s back as he disappears down the hall. He must need the bathroom. 

You continue your meandering cleaning. It’s not really messy at all but the place is old and everything’s a bit worn out, including you. As you adjust a canister in the spice rack, a noise catches your ear. Something familiar. 

You tiptoe to the hall and peer down it. You frown. Your bedroom is open. You go down and peek inside. Sy stands facing the wall, staring at the diamond art you did of finches in a nest. It’s one of your favourites so you hung it. 

He leans in as you tap on the door frame. He flinches and looks at you. He gives a sheepish expression and runs his hand over his beard. 

“Sorry, wasn’t meanin’ to intrude but the door was open so I... I was just lookin’ at this. You made it?” 

You nod. How can you tell him to get out? You have no way of making him. The door doesn’t always catch, he might not be lying. 

“Real pretty,” he praises and approaches you, “like you.” 

You blink and back up. You point back down the hall. You scurry away before he reaches you. You enter the kitchen and pull out a small saucepan. You’ll need it to make the gravy even if you won’t have the drippings to do so for some time. 

The puffing putter of your father’s truck underlines the tension as Sy lurks in behind you. You stay facing the stove, stilling your hands as you keep them on the hot edge of the stove. The warmth is just short of unbearable. 

Sy exhales and you brace yourself. Your heart beats furiously in anticipation. What will your dad think? How will he react? Usually, the large man cozens him with beer but today he’s only brought flowers. You can’t help but think of those floral curtains your dad tore down because they were too girly. 

Your dad clamours loudly up the steps. The door opens and snaps shut behind his stomping. He keeps his boots on as he enters the kitchen and scuffs short. 

Sy clears his throat, “hey, Don, how’s it goin’?” 

“Mmph, what’re ya doin’ here?” Your dad grumbles. You watch over your shoulder as he brushes past the large man and slams his lunch pail on the table. “Damn shit show down at the shop.” 

“Every day, isn’t it?” Sy chuckles. 

“Why’re you dressed like a funeral?” Your dad sniffs as he goes to the fridge. He snorts as he takes out the last beer. “Runnin’ low on Miller, too.” 

You wince and turn back to the stove. You do your best not to draw any attention. The awkwardness is as stolid as the heat radiating from the metal. 

“Well, ya know, I was comin’ to ask ya something important,” Sy explains. “About your daughter.” 

Your dad cracks the can open and slurps, nearly choking at the end, “her? What’d’ya want with that deaf rat?” 

Sy inhales audibly, “now, that ain’t no way to talk about a lady, is it?” 

“Lady?” Your dad chortles, “sure, Syverson, whatever you wanna call the appliance.” 

“I’m gonna say it one more time, you don’t talk about a lady that way,” Sy warns, the nervousness fading from his tone. “I came to ask for your blessing as I do have intentions with her. I’d like to... to build something with her. I’m a good man, Don, I think--” 

“Fucking shit,” your dad guffaws. “You ain’t serious? Her?” 

“She’s a nice lady. She keeps a good house, don’t she?” 

“She’s no use to you,” he retorts. “Got no more personality than a lamp. She can turn the stove on and wipe a dish clean but nothing else goin’ on there.” 

The oven buzzes and you quickly silence the timer. You take the oven mitts as the men behind you shift. You step back to open the door and carefully balance the roast pan as you bring it up onto the burners. Your dad makes another throaty noise. 

“Sure smells like a good dinner,” Sy says. “How about we enjoy it together--” 

“You’re fucking laughin’.” Your dad accuses. “Makin’ a joke of me ‘cause I’m stuck with the moron.” 

“Don,” Sy grits. 

“Nah, she’s a doornail, I know it. I don’t need ya pullin’ my leg about it.” 

“I’m not,” Sy insists. 

“Look at her. Like a goddamn robot. All she know how to do is cook and clean. Empty inside, ya know? It’s why she don’t talk. Nothin’ goin’ on, nothin’ to say.” 

“That ain’t true, and ya know it. You got no right mistreating your own daughter. I don’t like it.” 

“She’s my daughter, so why don’t ya take that ugly tie and get outta my house?” Your father snarls. 

“I came here honestly, Don. I’m not here to argue. I asked ya a question--” 

“No, you ain’t got my blessing. I told ya, she’s a fucking invalid--” 

“Don’t--” 

“You big lumphead, why don’t you ask her and see what she says?” Your dad interrupts. “Huh, see what you hear...” he pauses and you don’t move. You’re terrified. “See? She’s wacky--” 

“Don, you have some respect for her--” 

“Don’t tell me how to treat my own kin.” 

“Well, I’m tellin’ ya,” Sy sneers as his shadow moves. 

“You threatening me right now, boy?” Your dad puffs. 

“Only if you’re not gonna show her some decency--” 

“Get out of my house. You’re just as screwy as her. Two of ya together, fucked--” 

“Stop.” 

“Well, it’s true. Fucking mad for even thinkin’ of it--” 

“You don’t treat her right--” 

“And what would ya do with her? Big fucking ox like you. I seen the way you handle an engine. You’d break her.” 

“I didn’t call you any names, you don’t needa be rude.” 

“Rude? Aw, baby boy--” 

“I been nice, Don--” 

“Boo fucking h--” 

The crack of bone on bone makes you flinch. Then the loud crash and clatter draws you around. Your head is thrumming as your father’s body sprawls across the floor, the table scraping away from him. You only see his feet poking out from the other side.  

Sy stands over him, squared up, fists clenched, panting heavily. He’s a terrifying sight as he glares down at your father. You clasp your hands over your chest and sway. He doesn’t move. 

Slowly, you come around to look at your dad. He’s unconscious. His head lolls to one side as trickle of blood appears at the corner of his mouth. He’s not moving. You stare at his chest in search of his breath. One hit... no, that couldn’t be. 

The flowers lay across the floor, the canister overturned as water pools on the tile.  

“Told him not to insult ya,” Sy growls. 

Your eyes round and lower yourself to look over your dad. He can’t be gone. That doesn’t make any sense. There’s no way one punch could kill him. Is there? 

“Don’t touch him, sugar,” Sy commands as he bends to catch your wrist before you can check for a pulse. “I’ll take care of it.” 

You look at him and your mouth falls open. What does he mean? You fidget in his grasp and shake your other hand. What do you mean? 

“I didn’t mean to...” he drags you up and away from your dad.  

You let him, quaking and afraid. If he can do that to your dad, what could he do to you? He puts you by the stove. 

He turns and strides around the table. He doesn’t hesitate as he lifts up your dad and carries out his limp body. You watch after him until you hear the garage door. What is he doing? 

You cling to the stove and listen. You hear metals and scraping, the grind of the rusted old hood opening in that old broken Bronco truck. A cantankerous cacophony. Then a deafening crash. 

The garage door opens and Sy’s footsteps come down the hall. He walks in calmly and pulls the table back into place. He fixes the chair and gathers up the stems, putting them all back into the canister. He hands the bunch to you. 

“Needs more water.” He says plainly. “I’ll get the mop.” You stare at him as you hold the canister in your hands.  

He backs away and leaves you without another word. You look at the flower then fill the canister again. You put it back on the table as he comes back. He hands you the mop. 

“You mind? I gotta call the medics for your daddy,” he drawls. “You know, I told him not to yank that chain. Whole engine just came down on him...” 

Your lashes flutter in confusion. You take the mop and he steps away. He takes out his cell phone and pauses, inhaling deeply. You sop up the water cautiously. 

He dials out and lifts the phone to his ear. You take the mop to wring out in the tub. You go down the hall and peek through the open garage door. You stop short as you come upon the scene. 

Your dad is bent under the open hood, his shoulders contorted grossly. The hoist is overturned, the chains twisted as the engine sandwiches your dad’s head beneath it. A tragic scene of carelessness. Staged perfectly. 

Your stomach churns as Sy’s voice drowns under the tempo of your fear. You grip the mop and twitch as your insides spasm. You think you’re going to be sick. 

Dead. He's dead. Sy killed him. It was an accident. He said so. He didn't mean to, right? He couldn't have meant to. They were friends. He always came over with beer. For your dad, not you.

“Aw, honey, don’t look at all that,” Sy comes down the hall towards you and you shy away.  

You bring the mop close to you and stumble away from him. You hold it up then quickly flee. You scurry down the bathroom as the garage door clicks shut. Sy tuts as he lingers. 

“Gotta wait for the cops to show,” he calls after you. “They on their way.” 

[unknvhx]

falling back

confident!reader stuck in a toxic cycle, torn between love and the pain he always brings.

the rain came down in steady sheets, soaking through your hoodie as you stood in front of matt’s door, fists clenched at your sides.

you swore to yourself this would be the last time, no more letting him sweet talk you into forgetting all the ways he broke you.

but here you were again, your resolve cracking under the weight of your own heartache.

the door opened before you even knocked, and there he was, shirtless, with that same maddening smirk that made you want to scream.

his eyes swept over you, lingering on the way the rain clung to your skin, and that spark of cocky amusement flared in his gaze.

“you always show up when it’s raining,” he said, leaning lazily against the doorframe.

“what is it, some kind of dramatic timing thing?”

“shut up,” you snapped, stepping past him into the warmth of his apartment.

the door clicked shut behind you, the sound somehow louder than your own breathing.

matt turned, his brow arching as he watched you. “let me guess. you’re mad again.”

you spun around, your wet hair sticking to your face.

“mad? i’m fucking furious, matt. you keep doing this to me. over and over, i let you back in, and you…” your voice broke, and you hated how it sounded, how weak it made you feel.

“and I what?” he asked, his voice low and taunting as he stepped closer.

“you hurt me,” you said, your voice cracking. “every time. you make me feel like I’m nothing. like i don’t matter to you.”

matt’s expression softened, just slightly, but that infuriating smirk didn’t fade entirely. “you know that’s not true.”

you shoved at his chest, your hands trembling. “don’t do that. don’t make this my fault. I hate you, Matt.”

he caught your wrists in his hands, his grip firm but not unkind. His eyes darkened, the smirk finally slipping away. “no, you don’t.”

“yes, i do..” you shouted, the tears you’d been holding back finally spilling over. “i hate you for making me feel this way, for knowing i’ll always come back, for”

your words were muffled as he pulled you into his arms, his hands tangling in your hair, holding you close. you tried to fight it, tried to push him away, but your body betrayed you, melting into his warmth.

“you don’t mean that,” he murmured against your temple.

his voice was low, almost tender, and it sent a shiver down your spine. “you hate that you love me. and I hate that I can’t let you go.”

your fists beat weakly against his chest as sobs wracked your body. “you’re so fucking toxic, matt. i can’t do this anymore.”

he tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. His thumb brushed a tear from your cheek, and for a moment, he looked almost vulnerable. “then why are you here, huh?

‘’why’d you come back?”

you swallowed hard, unable to look away. “because i don’t know how to stay away.”

his lips crashed into yours, urgent and overwhelming, and for a moment, everything inside you melted.

despite every warning, every instinct telling you to pull away, you couldn’t stop yourself from kissing him back.

it was messy, bruising, as if he was trying to consume you each frantic press of his lips filled with the anger, the pain, the need he’d always left in his manner.

you hated him for it. you hated how he could make you forget everything you promised yourself, how his touch, even in its destruction, made you feel alive in ways nothing else did. he gripped you tighter, pulling you in closer, like he knew you wouldn’t leave.

you could feel the tension in his body, the way he used you, the way he always had, and yet, despite everything, a part of you couldn’t stop yourself from falling back into the chaos.

“stop,” you whispered against his lips, but your body betrayed you, pressing closer, your hands finding their way to his chest as if you were seeking something in the destruction.

he smirked, a dark, knowing glint in his eyes. “You don’t really want me to stop”

when he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and his voice was barely a whisper. “you can hate me all you want, baby. just don’t leave.”

and just like every time before, you stayed.

wc: 722

a/n: based off this request! i really like this piece and the pairing so i might give them a proper introduction or an au!

if you want to be tagged in any future posts related to this pairing, toxicex!matt pieces, or any work in general, comment or dm me <3

©unknvhx

tags: @chrivsblond @useruntold

[oc3anlvsu]

𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐲 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

-a rumour leads you to the conclusion that maybe fred didn't have feelings for you at all like you thought but he proves you wrong teaching you a lesson not to believe silly rumors-

Warnings

-small use of y/n

-kissing/making out?

you had always believed that Fred shared the same feelings you had with all the invites to the burrow the holding hands or your waist when walking down the halls or the teasing and sly compliments he’d give you. It was obvious that you were slightly pinning over him even if you tried to hide it you thought he was doing the same until a rumour proved you wrong

you were sitting in your dorm room peacefully reading a new book. You just picked out of the library when the dorm room door slammed open rather harshly you looked up in a freight to find Angelina running into the room jumping straight onto your bed with a giggle, she placed her hand on your knee letting out a breath

“ you won’t believe what I heard!“ you’d never heard her sound so excited by gossip. 

you decided to play along faking an excited over exaggerated gasp “oh yeah what did you hear?“ you smiled at her 

“ rumour has it alice fancies fred! Apparently they were seen flirting in the dining hall everyones saying she was practically sitting in his lap and he was loving it!“

Of Course you couldn’t blame her for spilling the new hot gossip to you she had no idea of your massive crush on fred but what she did see was the smile on your face immediately disappear

“whats wrong I thought you’d be happy. You know Fred’s finally getting a girlfriend after all these years he’s like your best friend right?“

You tried your best to smile tears building up in your eyes slowly

“mhm“ you hummed

It’s like she could read your mind because a pitiful expression immediately came across her face as she put a hand on your shoulder sighing slightly

“oh honey..“

. ~•~•~•★•~•~•~

it was the next day after Angelina had found out about your crush on fred you’d spent the whole night laying awake replaying every moment between the two of you trying to think if it was just him being his overly bubbly self or if he maybe liked you in the slightest but you doubted it the rumours had spread across the school like wildfire everyone was talking about it fred was always the flirt but he never had a girlfriend so when everyone thought it was possible he might have one soon it was impossible not to talk about

you walked towards the great hall trying to ignore the whispers and the girlish giggles. When you finally pulled your head up the site you saw was horrifying on the left wall outside the doors of the great hall Fred was lent up against the wall arms crossed across his chest as alice twirled her hair fluttering her eyelashes up at him reaching out a hand to place it on his bicep you could’ve sworn you saw him flinch away and his eyebrows pinch together but maybe you were just being delusional. You try to walk past them into the great hall, but of course Fred had to notice you.

“y/n!“ you could hear his footsteps rapidly catching up with you unfortunately due to his tall height he reached you in a matter of seconds grabbing your wrist and pulling you to face him

“ why did you ignore me? Don’t tell me you’re going deaf already“ the teasing smirk on his face made you fall for him even more but you couldn’t think like that anymore he was pinning after another girl

You pulled your wrist out of his grasp taking a step back from him

“ breakfast is nearly over“ your voice was barely over a mutter and he wasn’t having it

“uh no you don’t get to walk away from me rather rude“ he chuckled lightly grabbing your shoulder to stop you from turning around this was your breaking point

“ why do you care if I walk away from you? Go back to your girlfriend“ your tone was harsher than you meant it to be but you couldn’t help it

He looked shocked for a second but quickly gained his composure

“ girlfriend?“

You rolled your eyes huffing “ yes alice did you not hear you guys Flirting is the new hot gossip of the school“

at this he didn’t try to keep his shocked face under control at all. You expected him to confirm their relationship or maybe even walk away from you what you didn’t expect him to do was laugh right in your face uncontrollably.

Your eyebrows pinched together quite offended

“ it’s not funny!“

“ oh darling, it’s hilarious!“ his laughter continued to echo down the hall as he clutched his stomach leaning forward in a fit of giggles

You pinched your eyebrows even further together at the nickname confused on why a nearly taken man would give such endearing nicknames to another girl

“ why are you laughing?“ you tried to glare at him but your confusion broke the glare.

He finally stopped his laughing, wiping a tear from his cheek, a smirk appearing on his face

“ Godric love you really need to learn to stop believing every silly rumour you here let me ask you a question. Why do you think a beautiful handsome guy like me would be single all these years.“ as he said the words beautiful and handsome he flicked his fake long hair over both his shoulders acting like a model

You rolled your eyes crossing your arms over your chest

“ waiting for the perfect girl like her?“

He rolled his eyes taking a step closer to you he leaned down to whisper in your ear

“ you’re right with the perfect girl thing sweetheart but newsflash I already found her and it’s not that pathetic flirty wanna be“

A light blush coated your cheeks at the new proximity but you tried to hold up your guard

“ oh yeah, and who is this So-called perfect girl?“

As soon as you finished your sentence, he grabbed you by the side of your jaw and kissed you hard you gasped into the kiss, giving him a perfect way to slip his tongue between your lips. One of his hands fell from your jaw slipping down to the small of your back to pull you into him as the hand that was once on your jaw slipped to wrap around the side of your neck squeezing slightly making you let out a slight whine causing him to tighten his grip.

he pulled away much to your dismay keeping his hands in place. You both gassed for breath you would be lying. If you said that wasn’t the best kiss you’ve ever had.

“ I’m confused“ your head tilted to the side

-As Fred looked at you, he thought you resembled a kicked puppy. He would be lying if he said he didn’t find it. Adorable.-

“ it’s you, you idiot. It’s always been you. You’re the perfect girl for me.“

Fred Weasley had officially taught you to not believe stupid rumours but you were happy. believing this one Lead you to finally getting the boyfriend of your dreams.



[ladysherreeamore]

We all compare Tomdaya to Lukola but I thought i'd add Jakola into this so we can see how they all treat a woman they care about or even could be "in love" with

The way Tom got upset and rescued Zendaya when the paparazzi was getting outvof control and the way Luke got upset when the fans were getting out of hand are similar but the way Jake left Nic and went inside is not the way you would treat a woman your dating and shouldn't do that to your female friend

He squeezed past her to go inside while she was outside with a group of stange men and anything could've happpened to her, remember she has been stalked so a person should be aware of that and be cautious in this situation.

In case you missed Luke's facial expression here you go

Luke looks like he wants to jump the crowd and the bodyguard is so excited smiling 🤣😂

He is looking at the bodyguard like he wants to jump him too. 🤣

He’s looking at the fans with that same pissed off face. 😂

He’s pointing at the bodyguard like “man do your job” 😂 I’m going to whip your ass.

Here, I am guessing Luke is having some not so nice words to this guy. Bodyguard isn’t smiling anymore.

I have a lot of guy friends and they wouldn't leave me with strange men and not any guy i've ever dated. Men are taught to wait for women and hold doors for them and Jake hasn't done either of these. The weather doesn't matter because I've been in heavy rain and a guy would still open doors for me and not leave me.

These are actions that a man who has been dating a woman for months should automatically know to do because he would be used to it. Even if he started doing these things now it woukd only be because he knows what we've been saying so it wouldn't chang anything.

He isn't used to treating women this way because like i've said before, he doesn't date women. 🌈 Like all of her male friends, he is gay. He doen't even hangout with any straight men and everyone he does hangout with have been telling us he's gay all along but people love to ignore that so they can ship him with Nic and being gay wouldn't fit the narrative of them dating.

[yotogibanashi]

Even if you forget them forever, they will remain by your side.

Caution: Hit-and-run accident, blood mentioned and amnesia. Please be aware of this and read my writing at your own risk if you decide to be stubborn (those who have issues related to the caution or having potential traumatized triggered I've detailed above). Pairing: Ellen Joe, Von Lycaon x gn!reader. Genre: Angst.

Part 1: You've promised.

Ellen Joe

Just a normal day. You, Ellen's significant other—just hanging out together on a day when she had the day off from school and work—agreed to spend time with you. A date, to be more specific. Perfect weather for a walk around the Sixth Street area.

Suddenly your steps stopped, causing the young woman next to you to raise her eyebrows, wondering why. You smile awkwardly and explain to her. "Ah, I almost forgot. Since we're here I'm actually want to return this back."

You take out and held up a DVD you rented from Random Play. The problem is, you two are almost far from the video store, but you decide to go alone and saying it would be quick—is what you promised to the thiren—earned a heavy sigh but she wouldn't mind waiting for you, knowing you've always the type of person to keep your promises paid no matter how trivial, important nor out of whim those promise is—even if you somehow failed them you still keep it. Even ridiculous one.

"Don't worry, I'll make this quick!"

Your words echoed in the young woman's mind. You've promised. So... why don't you come back? She has been waiting for you for five minutes. Feeling uneasy suddenly developing within Ellen. What's this? This is a mere Sixth Street and surely you're accidentally caught up helping people in the way to return back to her. Right?

No... maybe I'm just tired. Yes, she probably a bit restless due to classes and her part time job is getting busier recently is why she somewhat feeling uneasy all of the sudden. Her teeth fiddling with the lollipop—not in relaxing way but uneasiness.

In the end she started walking towards Random Play. Wondering what's taking so long for you for a mere returning back the DVD. However, she was greeted with unexpected sight—in this supposed lovely ordinary day of her date with you.

Among the murmuring of several people gathered, you, lying motionless in Belle's arms. Blood flowed out of your head—enough for Ellen's teeth crushed the lollipop with a crack and eyes widened when she saw you in such awful and unsightful condition—a condition where she's failed to be there with you in danger.

Belle was cradling you gingerly while Wise make an emergency call, seemingly without a doubt about the accident and seeking help. The former's eyes accidentally locked with Ellen's—for the first time, Belle saw with her very own eyes. A look that was crossing Ellen's features at that time is uncharacteristic of the usual laid-back shark-tailed girl.

Ellen leaned against one of the row chairs in an empty hallway along with the two siblings. A shadow casting upon her eyes making her expression taking a dark tone. Her mind kept remembering Belle's words—the bluenette mentioned it was a hit-and-run accident. Even Wise and other people nearby gathering the scene earlier confirmed in agreement at the same thing.

Ellen wasn't always this angry. She is always calm and falls asleep easily when there is a chance. This one dared to hit you and is not responsible for your unfortunate they've caused. Intentionally or not—running away is a clear answer as the daylight. Her fingers curled into fist in pent-up anger and resentment.

Belle and Wise can feel it radiant off from Ellen's very own being as they both exchanging concern glance in the background—aware this is a real bad knowing someone is on the shark-tailed girl's bad side and how care she is towards you despite the way she is. You're Ellen's, after all and she's yours. If that wasn't the case you two won't be together more than friends like you two did today.

The door opened and a doctor came out. Ellen quickly got up from her seat as soon as she heard the door opened. The doctor approached the three and told them about your condition.

"Their condition is fine and stable." The doctor assured them that. But a frown formed upon the doctor's features. As if contemplative something and was about to deliver a bad news, "unfortunately—they ended up having amnesia."

Belle gasped as she clasped her mouth with her hands in frightened shock, Wise frown in disbelief upon the news. Ellen—her heart almost sank and dropped to the ground. A hit-and-run accident is bad enough and now you get amnesia? Whoever the culprit behind this is definitely received two folds nightmare from her very own hands.

"Their head suffered a very strong blow on something hard or possibly fell badly earned a bad concussion as the results," the doctor added. "I'd suggest you three go easy on them. Patient is important. I'm sure they'll remember everything when you guide them." The doctor's advice before stepping aside with a gesture—allowing the three to heading inside and look at your condition.

Ellen felt her heart being squeezed hard. The sight of your resting state in daze and blank gaze staring the ceiling in confusion made her chest aches.

Part 1: Bloodstained.

Von Lycaon

As promised. You two spent your free time together on your day off from the job after preoccupied with each other's own responsibility—no work and no to anything related to the former. Just a lovely day for you two having a pleasant date.

Lycaon, being the gentleman he is—never failed to make you walk beside him while he is on the side of the road, open the door for you, pull out a chair for you to sit in. He was already a such attractive, werewolf thiren you've met combination his gentleman and romantic gestures only flattered your poor heart further as if falling in love again.

After filling your stomachs, you both went out and left the cafe with your hand on his arm as usual after he'd offered it second ago. You chatted happily and he listened with a small smile on his lips seeing you always happy regardless the situation. It was something he admires about you.

Suddenly you stopped, making him stop too. He turned to you, wondering why you stopped suddenly. "Is something wrong?" His eye watching your other hand rummaging inside your pocket closely.

"Ah... my key. Maybe I accidentally dropped it back in that cafe. Wait here, alright? I promise this will be quick!" You smiled awkwardly and didn't give him a chance to protest, you turned around and ran back to the cafe. Even though it was a bit far at this point because you two had already walked away from there.

Lycaon wish to after you but since you seem obviously insists it would be a quick one, he supposed he needs to wait like a devoted man he always be.

Time moves. Strange. It's been two minutes and you still haven't found your keys that you accidentally dropped in the cafe as you claimed? Lycaon narrowed his left eye when he saw that his pocket watch had already passed the time he had set around two minutes, waiting for your return.

Being the protective boyfriend he is—he walked back towards the cafe at a fast pace. Feeling of uneasiness begin developing within him and plague his thoughts. However, his major dreads became a reality. His left eye widened as he saw you collapsed on the road with blood on your head. People gathered around and some made an emergency call.

In a few moments he was by your side who collapsed and did not move. His strong arms lifting your limp and injured form with care and unwavering gentleness he'd reserve for you all the time he's always by your side. The thiren's trying to stay calm but his composure is shattered upon seeing you like this. So fragile like a glass that'll easily shattered with a mere poke.

This feeling is suffocating. He never this helpless before—he always be there and protect you, made sure no stains nor mere scratch ruined your pristine features, not even the slightest of them to be acceptable. But this time luck wasn't on his or your side. Your head is bleeding... Lycaon doesn't even care if he gets your blood stained his own fabrics even though he always takes care of his appearance. He couldn't afford to see those priority in this moment—you are more important than some blood stains. You're hurt. His significant other.

The thiren was sitting one of the row chairs in an empty hallway, his mind busy with the residents' comments about your accident earlier when he overheard the witness mentioned it was a hit-and-run accident. That alone enough to flared up his rage despite doing whatever he can do to keep his cool.

No one can blame him. He has the right to be this enrage even though it was a pent-up one. He definitely for sure after whoever this culprit to make them pay for caused you the pain you caught up upon yourself.

The door opened and a doctor came out and approached him. Lycaon was quick lifted his weight off his seat to his feet and expecting for the doctor's words about your condition.

"Don't fret," The doctor reassured him, "their condition is stable now."

The doctor paused. As if contemplative something and it didn't take a genius the doctor was about to deliver those "but" stuff. "However, they suffer from amnesia. The impact from the accident made their head hit hard against the ground and regain a hard concussion."

That news made Lycaon's heart almost sank immediately the moment the doctor's mentioning you've suffered from amnesia. The doctor somehow easily noticed the tension from him and the way he clenched his jaw.

The doctor smile empathetically. "I'm sure that—if you guide them patiently, they'll remember everything." The doctor stepping aside and give the thiren space to go heading inside where you're waiting on the bed in daze and confusion lingered in your dull eyes—like a lost soul.

The sight enough to make his heart sank completely to the ground.

Postscript: This is my very first writing and I do hope this story somewhat satisfied all of you. I'm not really expert about medical field, however. I'm just using logical and information through Google about the possibility amnesia caused. Please criticize me if my writing is not accurate to characters characteristics, the grammar or my words isn't beautiful enough to read. I'm sure it might help me improving my writing better. I'm not really romantic person about love but still write this anyway. Haha... what do I have to do for the part two!? I almost losing my idea already for this one!

[ramshackle-ramblings]

Moonlight Song: Part 1

This, uh, got a little away from me. "Aw, this'll be fun! A cute little fic for @sunnysidesevenup 's Moonlight Song event!" 8,000 words later, and I'm not half done with everything I want to cram in here. So, I broke it up, and here's Part 1. It's long. Not 8,000 words long, but long.

"Shrimpy," Floyd drawled, settling on the bench next to Alise. "What're you up to this weekend?"

"Same as ever," she shrugged.

"No you're not," he told her. She was pretty sure he hadn't even heard what she'd said, and had the answer pre-loaded no matter what her plans were. "You're coming with Jade and me."

"Am I?"

"Mmhmm. We're gonna go help a friend out."

"Where do I figure in to this?" she asked suspiciously.

Floyd grinned at her, all sharpness and menace, eyes glinting mischievously. "You'll see. Friday after classes. Meet us in the Mirror Chamber." He stood up then, and wandered away, leaving no more room for argument.

"Mouse," Vil called, stopping the Ramshackle prefect in the hall between classes. "Mouse, I have a favor to ask you."

Mouse turned to look up at Vil, Jade and Riddle flanking each side before they moved to face the Pomefiore housewarden fully.

"Sure, what do you need?" Mouse asked, motioning for the other two classmates to continue on without them.

"Are you busy this weekend?" Vil asked. "We can walk to your class while we talk. One of the boys in Pomefiore is competing in a singing competition this weekend, and has asked for my help."

"As busy as I'll ever be," they responded, offering Vil a smile. "Which boy are we talking about though? Have I officially met him yet?"

"Hmm, I doubt it," Vil answered. "His name's Arlo. He's a sophomore, so I don't think you have any classes together. He's …" Vil paused, considering his words carefully. "He keeps to himself," he decided on.

"And he's in Pomefiore?" Mouse joked.

"He is," Vil chuckled. "We're not all social butterflies, you know. Just most of us. He's very good at some of the other, uh, defining characteristics." He flashed Mouse a villainous smile.

"The term 'social butterfly' is the last thing I'd use to describe Epel," Mouse hummed, glancing up at him before looking away and continuing on. "Tell Arlo that I wish him good luck on his competition though."

"Ah, that brings us neatly back around to the point of this conversation. I was hoping, if you're not doing anything else, that you would come with me." He glanced at Mouse out of the corner of his eye, watching for their reaction. "The last time I was in charge of coaching for a competition, I went a little, um, overboard."

"Oh, Vil…" they cooed, turning to face him with a frown. "I'll… I'll talk to Azul and get my schedule cleared for this weekend, but I'm sure you don't need me there. You're doing so much better now…"

It took Mouse a moment of silence before they reached out. They grabbed onto Vil's sleeve like a scared child, their expression matching as they whispered, "You are doing better now, right?"

Vil looked down at Mouse, his smile full of relief. He found Mouse's hand on his sleeve and squeezed it gently. "I am. I am doing much better." He gave their hand another little squeeze, and they could see the worry hiding in his eyes. "But you're very good at keeping me in line, and I would appreciate having that safety net this weekend."

"If you need help convincing Azul, let me know," he offered. "We're meeting in the Mirror Chamber after classes on Friday. And don't worry about anything this weekend, it's all my treat."

—-

Mouse scanned the cupboards, trying to come up with meals that they could leave Grim and Alise with for the weekend that neither of them could screw up. Maybe they could ask one of the other dorms to take them in in the meantime?

A huff left them as they closed the cupboards and crossed their arms. The front door opened at the same time, and they heard Alise and Grim in the hallway, arguing about something.

"What's for dinner?" Grim demanded as soon as they entered the kitchen, sniffing the air hopefully.

Mouse turned to face the two new arrivals. "Hm? Oh! Uhm… Not sure yet, I'll figure something out in a minute."

"What were you going through the cupboards for if you're not making dinner?" Grim demanded, crossing his little arms over his chest.

"Trying to figure out meals that you and Alise can have while I'm gone this weekend," they responded, looking back at the cupboards. "Vil invited me out this weekend for some kind of competition."

"Just Grim," Alise said, leaning against the doorframe. "Floyd's got me for the weekend."

"I can't come, too?" Grim asked, looking at Mouse with big, wet eyes.

Mouse knelt down to talk to Grim, their heart hurting at the sight. "I'm sorry Grim, but I think it might be best if you didn't come with me this time. I'm going someplace completely new that no one we know has been to. But what if I talked to Rook and asked him to bring you on your own adventure? And then when I come back you can tell me ALL about your travels with Rook."

Grim made a little grumbly noise. "He's weird, but I guess that would be okay. He does have pretty interesting ideas for adventures." He thought about it a little more, and a grin started across his face. "We're gonna have the best adventure. I gotta go pack!"

Grim turned around and ran out of the kitchen, his feet pattering up the stairs.

Mouse smiled to themself, watching Grim run off before standing up to look at Alise.

"Floyd's taking you somewhere this weekend?"

She shrugged. "Apparently. Starting Friday after class, he's got plans for the weekend that I am a part of, I guess. Man, the house'll be empty, huh? It's a good thing there are multiple ghosts so they don't get lonely."

"Huh…" Honestly shocking, but seeing as it was Floyd… Well. "Well, it's not the least expected thing for him to do I suppose. Just make sure you pack for everything and anything?" They looked around the kitchen, messing with their sleeve nervously. "The house will be pretty empty though… It's…"

Mouse didn't finish the thought.

—-

"Alright, I'm here," Alise announced. "Where are we going?"

There was a small collection of students in the Mirror Chamber. Floyd and Jade were there, with Vil, Cater, and Lilia. Mouse stood between Vil and Cater. The short, dark-haired Pomefiore boy that Epel was sometimes with was there, too. Short, but still almost half a foot taller than Alise. Arlo, maybe? Epel had introduced them once.

"You're bringing her?" The tone of Arlo's voice was withering, and the look he favored Floyd with matched. Alise bit back a smile, she wasn't sure if he genuinely hated her or not, but she found his general distaste for people delightful.

"Yeah," Floyd grinned. "Shrimpy's got a voice that's perfect for luring sailors overboard."

"I - what?" Alise stared at him.

"My understanding of this festival is that it's about exactly the opposite of that," Vil said coolly.

"Yeah, I thought the sirens saved the girl," Cater added.

"Sure they did," Floyd's grin grew sharper. Jade chuckled, darkly polite. Arlo's face remained carefully blank.

"Oh, how interesting!" Lilia giggled.

"I didn't know you two knew each other," Alise said, gesturing between Arlo and Floyd.

"Sure," Floyd nodded, pulling her toward the mirror. "We go way back."

"I wasn't aware you two knew each other," Jade commented.

"We don't," Arlo answered dryly.

"We've been introduced," Alise chuckled. "But I wouldn't call us friends."

"Good. Can we go now?" He gestured impatiently at the mirror.

"Wait, all of us?" Alise looked up at Floyd as he dragged her through the mirror. His grin offered no explanation.

"All of us?" Mouse echoed, looking up at Vil. Vil shrugged, the development just as much a surprise to him.

The mirror turned them out at the top of a low hill. The road in front of them ran down the hill in both directions, leading to a town that meandered across the island. Turning right would take them toward the ocean, white washed buildings clustered along the road, and spreading out along a boardwalk. It was sweet and quaint, and also screamed "tourist trap". The left led inland, were hotels and cozy bed & breakfasts could be found, fading into the homes and everyday lives of the local population.

"We'll go check into the hotel, you stick with lil' Piranha, he'll show you around." Floyd held out his hand for Alise's bag, and she surrendered it. "We'll catch up." He jerked his head for Jade to accompany him, and set off toward the hotel.

"That's a good idea," Vil conceded. "I don't want to be carrying my luggage everywhere."

"Do you need help with your bags, Mouse?" Jade asked politely, stepping a little closer to them.

"M- Wha- Huh?" Mouse looked up at Jade, clearly a bit dazed from going through the mirror as they leaned against their suitcase for much-needed support. "Oh. Oh! Uhm. S-sure?"

Jade kept his smile, eyes searching over Mouse, concern sunk in their depths. He was no stranger to the unique effect mirror travel seemed to have on Mouse, and it worried him every time. Jade offered his arm for support, expertly managing both Mouse's suitcase and his own with his other hand. Mouse flashed a small, grateful smile as they took his arm.

"We'll stay on Main Street," Arlo sighed. "We'll be easy to find that way."

"Wait for me to start the mischief," Lilia whispered to Alise before following Vil and Cater.

"Come on, then," Arlo said grudgingly. "I guess I'm playing tour guide."

"You don't have to," Alise told him.

"No, it's fine." He started walking down the hill toward the the town. "Just don't expect pages of exposition about every little thing."

"That's fine. But … I would like to know the name of the town at least?"

Arlo stopped walking and looked back at her in surprise. "You … don't know where we are?"

She shook her head.

"Or why we're here?"

"Floyd just told me to show up."

"And you did?"

She shrugged.

He stared at her for a long minute. "This is Everend's Cove," he said finally, starting to walk again. "It's my hometown. Well, sort of. This is the land half of it. More properly, my home's the ocean half."

"Oh!" Alise said, sounding genuinely surprised. "I didn't realize."

"Yeah," he answered simply.

"Floyd said he was helping a friend with something, but that's all he'd say."

"Sounds right. This weekend is the Moonlight Festival here, and Everend's Cove holds a song competition as part of it. My siblings decided to sign me up for it," Arlo explained. "Vil, Cater, and Lilia are here to help. Vil brought Mouse to help them, I guess they were a huge help during the VDC. I don't know what Floyd and Jade's plans are, honestly."

"I really wish I had some insight into that, too," Alise sighed. "And where I fit into it."

—-

"Here we are," Vil said, stopping outside a sprawling blue house. A wide porch wrapped around it, sparkling garlands of pearls and crystals hung between white pillars. Three chimneys rose from the maze of slate-shingled gables. The white sign planted in the garden, pale purple clematis reaching up the posts, read "Sailor's Rest Bed & Breakfast."

The entry hall was paneled in polished cherrywood, stairs led upstairs behind a wooden check-in desk. A cozy parlor could be seen through a wide doorway to the left, and a dining room on the right.

The woman behind the desk looked up from her novel and smiled as the small group entered. Her white hair was pinned back with pearls and amethyst combs, and she wore a flowing tunic in a rich purple ombre.

"Checking in," Cater approached the desk with a warm smile. "It should be four rooms, under Diamond?"

"Of course," she smiled, pulling up the reservation. She scanned the group, her eyes lingering on Vil. "Are you all here for the festival?"

"We are," Cater nodded. "A classmate of ours is participating in the song competition."

"Really? How exciting! Now, I do need a credit card for incidentals. Should I use the one the rooms were reserved with?"

"Please do," Vil answered.

The woman smiled at him, a little brighter than necessary. "What's your friend's name? So I know who to cheer for tomorrow night."

"Arlo Wake," Cater said, signing the room agreement.

"Arlo's … singing?" The woman looked sharply at Cater, smile frozen on her face.

"Oh, do you know Arlo?" Vil smiled smoothly at her.

"Oh. Yes," she answered uncomfortably. "He, well, he grew up here. Well!" She flashed a smile that wasn't quite as bright as it had been a moment ago and collected the paperwork from Cater. "Let me show you your rooms." She collected four keys from the hooks behind the desk and motioned for the group to head up the stairs.

"We start serving breakfast at six, and usually end around ten. But don't worry about it if you sleep late, we can always scare something up for you," she told them as she followed them to the second floor.

"On the listing, it said you have a music room with a piano?" Vil asked.

"Oh, yes we do!" The woman exclaimed. "It doesn't get much use, but it is in tune, if you'd like to play it."

"Do you think we could use it to practice in?" Vil awarded her sweet smile.

"Oh, for the competion?" Her voice faltered, but then she gave a little sigh and smiled back at Vil. "Yes, that would be fine."

"That's so kind of you."

"Of course," she waved him off, opening a door at the top of the stairs. "This is the Coral Room."

Pale pink curtains fluttered in the breeze from the open window. A vase of peonies and baby's breath sat on the white marble topped dresser, and a pink Dresden plate quilt lay on the white four-poster bed.

"Mouse?" Vil suggested, looking at the prefect with their pink-tipped hair.

"Mouse," Cater agreed, snapping a picture of the room for stepping aside to let them through.

"Just cause it's pink doesn't mean I'll immediately love the room, you guys…" Mouse commented, pouting at the two but moving into the room regardless. They did, in fact, immediately love the room.

"Yes it does," Lilia said, grinning at Mouse.

The proprietor handed the room key to Mouse with a smile. "The bathroom is through there. Let me know if you need anything."

Mouse nodded along, taking the key from the proprietor and returning the smile. "Thank you."

"Of course!" She turned back to the boys. "Now, the next room is our Sea Foam Room - " she started, leading them away and leaving Mouse to settle in. Cater offered Mouse a little wave before following the group.

Mouse pulled their suitcase into the room, setting it on the suitcase stand in the corner. They ran their hand over the cool marble of the dressed, breathing in the fragrance of the flowers.

There was a knock on the doorframe. Mouse looked up to find Vil standing there, Cater and Lilia heading down the stairs behind him.

"Are you ready?" Vil asked. "We should meet the twins and find Alise before she burns the town down."

"Yep!" Mouse smiled up at him, quickly stepping out of the room and locking their door. "And I'm sure Jade has Alise under control, it'll be fine!"

"Are you?" Vil chuckled. "I'm not sure that girl is controllable."

"Well yeah, he usually does," Mouse responded, before sighing. "He's honestly the only person who can control her… Must be all that practice with Floyd."

Vil blinked at Mouse in surprise. "I'm impressed."

They gently pressed their side into Vil's, smiling up at him with faux innocence. "He's as sweet as honeydew once you get to know him, trust me!" They chuckled before heading towards the stairs, not bothering to wait for his response.

"I'm not convinced," Vil laughed, following behind them.

Jade and Floyd were waiting for them outside the Sailor's Rest, flanking the stairs down from the porch. They had changed out of their school uniforms, and into outfits more appropriate for the festival.

Jade stood patiently at the bottom of the stairs. His hair was carefully pinned back, decorated with pearls and pale shells, and stones sparkling in dark blues and purples. His top was dark blue, almost black, tight to his chest. Short strands of amethysts anchored points in the center of his chest and sides, leaving his stomach and back bare. Several arm bands, gold and elaborately decorated with stones and shells, wound their way around his biceps and peeked through sheer, open sleeves in the same pale purple. He wore a set of false claws on his right hand, fine gold chains stretching from his fingertips and meeting at an elaborate filigreed rosette on the back of hand, and spreading out again to get lost in the shimmering collection of bracelets he wore.

Floyd leaned lazily against the pillar at the top of the stairs, arms crossed over his bare chest. He had forgone a top entirely, in favor of layering long strands of pearls and shells and gems. A collar of black pearls and shells fastened to a delicate harness made of fine silver chains and strings of black pearls. Gauzy, pale blue sleeves, mimicking Jade's sleeves, attached to the collar with drapes of black pearls. Silver cuffs circled Floyd's upper arms, and a set of silver claws to match Jade's gold ones spread from the bracelets on his left wrist.

Both twins wore wide sashes, tied at opposite hips, over loose pants, Floyd's in deep blue and Jade's in deep purple. More strands of pearls and crystal decorated the sashes.

"'Bout time," Floyd grumbled, pushing himself upright and bounding down the stairs.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," Lilia laughed, taking the steps in one leap.

"Well, aren't you two pretty," Mouse complimented, looking over both the tweels with stars in their eyes.

Floyd preened, posing for Mouse to admire, and Jade's smile was sharply pleased.

"It's traditional, you know, to wear outfits reminiscent of the water in the moonlight," Jade said, falling into step beside Mouse as the group walked downtown. "We'll be able to get you something from the shops in town, I'm sure."

"Then you'll be just as pretty as we are," Floyd teased.

"Oh! Uh-" Mouse raised their hands in protest, lightly shaking their head. "Th-thank you both, for the offer. But I don't think anything would really, um … suit me, the same way it suits you guys! You know? Clothes are very picky about who wears it or whatever-"

"There's certain to be things that will look lovely on you," Jade assured them, his smiling softening. "Ours are what they are so we can wear them on land or in the water."

"And because shirts are stupid," Floyd put in.

"But that's not something you need to consider," Jade continued smoothly, ignoring the interruption. "There will be something you'll be comfortable in."

"You don't have to dress up if you don't want to," Vil assured Mouse, and Jade nodded his agreement.

"Of course," Jade agreed. "On the very slight chance you don't find anything you love, you don't need to get anything. You are lovely just as you are."

"You'd be very 'cammable in one of these outfits, though," Cater said with a little smile.

"R-right… Of course." Mouse just smiled, nodding along to everything said.

The closer they got to the boardwalk, and the beach beyond it, the more people there were. There were some people dressed in every day clothes, but it seemed like most of them had opted to embrace the spirit of the festival and were clad in flowing silks in soft colors and decorated with sparkling jewelry.

"So how do we find them?" Cater asked, scanning the crowded street.

"Listen for the screaming?" Vil joked dryly. "Look for people fleeing the area in tears?"

Jade chuckled. "I hope they could both behave themselves for the short time we've been apart."

"Why are we assuming Arlo is included in this?" Mouse asked, turning to Vil. "I thought you said he keeps to himself? And he seemed so… Not confrontational at the mirror?"

Floyd just laughed.

"He does prefer not to be bothered," Vil agreed, scanning faces. "And he has a talent for ensuring no one bothers him a second time."

"Oh." Mouse looked away, a tad concerned.

"Oh, there they are!" Lilia pointed through the crowd to Alise and Arlo, talking to an unfamiliar pair of people.

"Shit," Floyd said, cutting through the crowd.

—-

"I feel under dressed," Alise commented.

"You are," Arlo answered. "It's kind of tradition. Everyone dresses up. Tourists usually don't already have clothes, so they buy them when they get here. Most places will do alterations for you when you buy from them, too."

"You have something pretty," she said, running her hand through a rack of skirts on display on the street, letting the soft fabric flow over her fingers.

"Yes," he confirmed.

"I wish I'd known." She wandered into a store, looking over a display of necklaces. "I'd have … still been under dressed," she laughed. Alise draped a string of pale purple and pink stones over her hand and then held it up next to Arlo. He looked at her with equal parts curiosity and irritation.

She shook her head and put it back, pawing through the display again. "Still, it would have been nice to have a heads-up," she commented, pulling another necklace out. This one had a deeper purple, and chips of jade.

"This one would look pretty on you," she told him, holding the string of beads up to him. "It brings out the green in your eyes."

He frowned, taking the necklace from her and putting it back on the stand, then shooing her out of the store.

"Maybe we should stay on the street so Vil and everyone can find us," he said when they were outside.

"That makes sense," Alise nodded, ducking into another store and zeroing in on a rack of sparkling hair accessories. It was like babysitting a particularly small magpie.

He rolled his eyes and followed her into the store, herding her out before she could pick out some other piece of jewelry for him.

"I'm sorry," she said, dragging her eyes away from the elaborate display in the front window of another shop to look at him. "This must all be so boring to you. It's just so pretty, and I've never seen anything like that jewelry before."

He glanced at the window display. The sun sparkled off crystals and pearls, delicately woven with tiny chains of silver and gold, displayed flat and draped around jewelry busts and stands. A faint smile ghosted across his face.

"It is pretty," he conceded.

"I just really like shiny things," she grinned sheepishly.

"I've noticed," he chuckled.

"Aw, look, Arlo brought a little friend with him," someone cooed, sliding up next to Alise. Arlo stiffened, his expression suddenly guarded again. "Aren't you going to introduce us?"

There was no mistaking the resemblance. She was taller than Arlo, but had the same delicate features and dark, softly waving hair. Instead of the shock of honey-colored hair, though, her bangs were a deep red. The smile beaming down at Alise was made of teeth and plastered-on pleasantry, and wasn't reflected in her calculating green eyes.

"I wasn't," Arlo answered flatly.

"Don't be like that, baby brother," the man that appeared on Arlo's other side, hair like spun gold, wore a smile to match the woman's. "We've been waiting all day to meet your friends."

Arlo crossed his arms defensively across his chest, glowering at the ground. Alise took a sideways step closer to him, away from his sister, her eyes sharp and her smile far too calm.

"Have you? I doubt it," Arlo growled. "You could just leave me alone."

"Since my brother's being rude," the woman said, grabbing Alise's hand and pulling the girl toward her. "I'm Darla. I'm his big sister."

"I gathered," Alise said.

"And you are?" Darla prompted, irritation dancing around the edges of her question.

"I see you met my Shrimpy," Floyd melted out of the crowd, draping an arm over Alise, with just the slightest emphasis on the possessive.

"Oh. You're here," Darla said, distaste dripping from her voice like honey. She dropped Alise's hand like it had burned her. "Is your brother here, too?"

"Course he is," Floyd answered in a tone that made clear the feeling was mutual.

Next

[astrolotte]

like father like son

[lizziesangel]

RAFE CAMERON ⟢ taking care of you

x FEM!reader ⟢ MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: based on this request

WORD COUNT: +3.7K

GENRE: fluff

CONTENT WARNING: reader is pregnant, soft!rafe cameron (to you anyway), talks of nausea and vomiting

the streets of the outer banks were quiet, except for the distant crashing of waves and the occasional bark of a stray dog. the four of you—sarah, kie, john b, and yourself—had split up to search for jj, who had gone on yet another self-destructive bender. the tension was thick in the air, but you barely noticed it, your focus entirely on the uneasy churning in your stomach.

it wasn’t just stress. the nausea had been growing worse by the day. you could feel it now, bubbling under the surface, threatening to spill over.

“are you okay?” sarah asked, looking back at you. she’s been keeping close, ever the protective sister-figure, but her sharpness softened when she noticed how tired you looked.

“i’m fine,” you lied, your voice tight. “i’ll be right back. i just... i just need to—”

you didn’t finish. instead, you veered off down the street, away from her questioning gaze, and toward the first place that caught your eye: pitts st. pharmacy.

the store was a mess, looted and trashed, shelves toppled and goods scattered across the floor. you stepped inside, heart hammering, and made your way through the debris. the nagging fear that had been gnawing at you for weeks now screamed in your head. it couldn’t be true, but you needed to know for sure.

your eyes scanned the wreckage until you found what you were looking for: a small box of pregnancy tests, dented but intact. grabbig it, you made your way to the bathroom at the back of the store.

inside, the lights flickered dimly. the sink was covered in grime, and the toilet looked worse, but none of that mattered. you locked the door behind you and ripped open the box, your hands shaking.

minutes later, you sat on the edge of the sink, staring at the test in your hands.

two lines.

“no,” you whispered to yourself, shaking your head as if you could will the result to change. but it didn’t. it stayed the same—two unmistakable, life-altering lines.

you were broke, had no place to stay, and were currently under stress from everything that was happening. you barely had any food. how could you care for a child?

you felt the nausea return with a vengeance, and you barely made it to the toilet before you started throwing everything up.

a loud knock at the door startled you mid-heave.

“y/n?” kie’s voice came through, worried and muffled. “are you in there? are you okay?”

you couldn’t bring yourself to answer, wiping your mouth as your body trembled. the door creaked open, and sarah stepped in, kie close behind her. their faces were a mixture of confusion and concern.

“holy shit,” she said, taking in the state of you. “what happened?”

sarah’s eyes flicked to the sink, where the pregnancy test sat. her jaw dropped, and for a second, she just stared at you, stunned.

“oh my gosh,” sarah whispered. “are you—”

you cut her off with a tear running down your face, “don’t say it, if you say it, it means it’s real. i can’t do this.”

you buried your face in your hands, unable to face her. “i didn’t mean for this to happen,” you choked out, your voice breaking, and your heart followed.

kie grabbed the test, her brows furrowing as she saw the result. “is this real?”

you nodded, still shaking.

“okay, okay,” sarah said, crouching beside you. her voice was calm, but there was an edge of urgency in it. “we’re going to figure this out.”

she took a step closer, her expression shocked. “does rafe know you’ve been feeling like that?”

your stomach twisted again, this time with a different kind of nausea. “no,” you admitted. “i haven’t told anyone.”

kie crossed her arms, glancing at you. “well, this explains why you’ve been so out of it lately,” she said, her voice softer than usual.

the lump in your throat grew, and fresh tears spilled down your cheeks. “i just don’t know what to do,” you admitted, your voice breaking.

sarah pulled you into a hug, her arms strong and steady. “you don’t have to figure it out right now,” she said softly. “one step at a time. we’ll help you, i promise.”

you blinked at her, surprised by the warmth in her voice. “you’re not mad?”

sarah shook her head. “no. i mean… i won’t lie, this is a lot. but i’m not mad. rafe’s… complicated,” she admitted, her tone careful. “but he’s still my brother. and you’re our best friend. we’ll deal with this, whatever happens.”

kie sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. “yeah. i mean, i still think rafe is a total disaster, but… we’re here for you. whatever you need.”

“thank you,” you managed to crack a smile but your voice still cracked.

the boat rocked gently over the waves, the endless ocean stretching out in every direction as the pogues sailed toward morocco. the salty air was cool against your skin, but your nerves were hotter than ever. below deck, in the cramped bathroom, rafe was tied up like cargo—his usual sneer subdued by whatever storm was brewing in his mind.

sarah and kiara sat beside you near the railing, both trying to make small talk to distract you from the weight of your secret. you hadn’t told anyone else yet—only them. sarah had been protective from the moment she found out, and kie, despite her initial shock, had become a steadying presence. but you knew you couldn’t keep this from the others forever.

it had to come out now, before someone else pieced it together.

john b, jj, pope, and cleo were sitting farther up on the deck, laughing about something jj had said, the tension of the past few days temporarily pushed aside. you took a deep breath and glanced at sarah. she squeezed your hand reassuringly, nodding.

“alright,” you said, your voice trembling slightly as you stood. “i need to tell you guys something.”

the laughter died down, and all four of them turned to look at you. jj raised an eyebrow, while cleo leaned back, her arms crossed, her expression curious but calm.

“what’s up?” john b asked, tilting his head.

you hesitated, your hands shaking as you clutched the edge of your hoodie. kie stood up beside you, her presence a quiet show of support, and sarah followed suit, stepping forward slightly like a shield.

“so, uh... i’m pregnant,” you blurted out, the words spilling from your lips before you could overthink them again.

the silence that followed was deafening.

jj blinked a few times, his mouth hanging open. pope froze, the book in his hands slipping onto the deck. john b stared at you, his face blank with shock, while cleo tilted her head slightly, her lips pressing into a thoughtful line.

“wait, what?” jj finally said, breaking the silence. “you’re serious? like… a baby?”

“yes, jj,” sarah’s voice was serious, with a small hint of enthousiasm. “a baby.”

pope’s brows furrowed as he leaned forward, his voice cautious. “uh… does he know?”

you shook your head quickly. “no. and i don’t want him to know. not yet, i think. i need to figure out what I’m going to do first.”

john b ran a hand through his hair, glancing toward the cabin. “he’s going to find out eventually. you know that, right?”

“yeah, but not now,” sarah said, stepping closer to you. “she doesn’t owe him anything. not until she’s ready.”

jj finally seemed to process what you’d said, his usual smirk replaced by something more sincere. “holy shit,” he muttered, looking at you like he was seeing you for the first time. “you’re gonna be a mom.”

cleo stood, brushing off her pants as she walked over to you. she placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, her eyes soft and understanding. “hey,” she said, her voice low but warm. “you alright? how’re you feelin’? you eatin’ enough?”

the sudden shift to motherly concern caught you off guard, and your throat tightened as tears pricked your eyes. “i… i’m okay,” you said, your voice shaky. “i mean, not really, but i’m trying.”

cleo nodded, her hand moving to rub your back. “good. ‘cause you gotta take care of yourself now, you hear me? you need anything, you come to us. don’t keep it all bottled up.”

her kindness undid you, and before you knew it, you were crying, tears streaming down your face as all the emotions you’d been holding in came flooding out. cleo pulled you into a hug, her arms strong and comforting.

“it’s okay,” she murmured. “we got you.”

jj scratched the back of his head, his expression torn between awkwardness and a genuine desire to help. “uh… do you, like, need anything? cravings or whatever? i could… i don’t know, fish or something?”

“geez, jj,” kie said, rolling her eyes, though there was a faint smile on her lips.

“what?” jj said, throwing up his hands. “i’m trying to be helpful!”

pope finally broke his silence, his voice calm but thoughtful. “this is big,” he said. “but you don’t have to do it alone. we’re a team, and we’ve got your back.”

john b nodded, though his expression was still conflicted. “yeah. we’ll figure it out, together.”

sarah crossed her arms, her gaze flicking toward the cabin. “i don’t know if rafe being a dad is going to be a good thing,” she said quietly. “but i know for sure, that you can always count on us.”

you wiped your face, looking around at your friends—your family. despite the chaos of the situation, the weight on your chest felt a little lighter.

“thanks, guys,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

cleo gave you a gentle squeeze before stepping back. “alright. now you sit down, drink some water, and take it easy. baby’s already got enough drama in its life with this crew.”

that earned a few laughs, breaking the tension on the deck. even jj cracked a grin, though his eyes were still darting toward the cabin like he was expecting rafe to burst out at any moment.

the storm rolled in faster than any of you expected. the dark clouds roared overhead, the wind screaming as waves battered the small boat. rain lashed at your face as you clung to the railing, your knuckles white as the boat pitched violently.

“hold it steady!” john b yelled from the helm, fighting to keep the boat on course.

“we’re trying!” pope shouted back, struggling to tie down a loose rope.

everyone was scrambling, shouting over the howling wind, when your eyes darted toward the cabin where rafe was still tied up. the boat lurched again, and you realized the storm was too much for the pogues to handle alone.

you turned to cleo, who was gripping a rope near the mast. “cleo!” you shouted.

she looked up, rain streaming down her face. “what?”

“untie rafe! we need his help!”

her brows furrowed in hesitation, but another massive wave slammed into the boat, nearly knocking her off her feet. “you sure about this?”

“just do it!” you yelled, already moving toward the railing to help pope with the ropes.

cleo disappeared into the cabin, and moments later, rafe stumbled out onto the deck, his wrists free but still red from the ropes. his eyes were wild, darting around as he took in the chaos.

“help with the sail!” kie barked at him, pointing toward the mast.

for once, rafe didn’t argue. he jumped into action, his strength proving useful as he wrestled with the ropes alongside pope and jj.

oyu turned back toward the deck, trying to keep your footing as the boat tilted dangerously. the storm’s fury was disorienting, and the slippery surface of the deck made every step treacherous.

then it happened.

your foot slipped on a patch of wet wood, and you stumbled forward. before you could catch yourself, the boat lurched again, and the railing vanished beneath you.

“y/n!” rafe’s voice tore through the storm as you plunged into the icy water.

the cold was a shock, stealing the breath from your lungs as you struggled to orient yourself in the churning waves. you heard shouts from the boat above, barely audible over the roar of the storm.

jj’s voice was the loudest. “i’m going after her!”

“be careful!” john b yelled after him. “think about the baby! don’t squeeze her stomach!”

the words hung in the air, cutting through the chaos. on deck, rafe froze, his hands gripping the mast as his head whipped toward john b.

“what did he say?” he demanded, his voice sharp despite the storm.

sarah turned to him, her face pale, but there was no time to explain. another wave crashed over the boat, and she grabbed onto the railing, shouting at him to focus.

his eyes narrowed, jaw tightening, but he said nothing. instead, he turned his gaze to the water, scanning for any sign of you or jj.

hours passed, the storm finally beginning to die down as the sun peeked through the clouds. the pogues had managed to navigate to a small stretch of land, pulling the boat onto a rocky shore. the group was soaked, exhausted, and anxious.

sarah was pacing along the water’s edge, arms wrapped around herself. her lips were pressed into a thin line, her gaze fixed on the horizon. “it’s been too long,” she muttered, her voice strained.

“they’ll be back,” cleo said, trying to sound confident, though her eyes betrayed her own concern.

sarah shook her had and paced back and forth, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. “they should’ve come back by now,” she said, her voice cracking.

“they will,” pope said, though he didn’t sound entirely convinced.

rafe stood apart from the group, his arms crossed as he stared out at the horizon. his mind was racing, replaying john b’s words over and over again.

“think about the baby.”

he clenched his jaw and turned toward sarah, his voice sharp but controlled. “you knew, didn’t you?”

she stopped pacing, her eyes narrowing. “knew what?”

“don’t play dumb,” he snapped. “about her—about the fact she’s pregnant.”

the rest of the pogues glanced at each other, unsure whether to intervene. sarah sighed, walking closer to him.

“yes, i knew,” she admitted, her tone calm. “she told us a while ago.”

“and you didn’t think i had a right to know?” rafe’s voice rose slightly, his hands tightening into fists at his sides. “you thought it was okay to keep that to yourself? to keep it from me?”

“she wasn’t ready to tell you,” sarah said, keeping her voice steady. “this isn’t about you, rafe. it’s about her—and her baby.”

rafe scoffed, running a hand through his wet hair. “my baby! it is about me, sarah. it’s my—our kid! and none of you thought i should know? that’s not your call to make.”

kie stepped forward, arms crossed. “she’s been through a lot, rafe. maybe think about her feelings for once instead of your own.”

rafe glared at her, his anger simmering just beneath the surface. “i’m thinking about her and the baby, okay? i just—” he broke off, pacing a few steps away before turning back to face them. “she’s out there, in the water, and nobody bothered to tell me anything. do you know what that feels like?”

john b, who had been silent until now, raised a hand. “alright, chill, bro. she didn’t want you to know yet. we were just trying to respect that.”

rafe shook his head, muttering under his breath. “unbelievable.”

pope, ever the peacemaker, cleared his throat. “look, what’s done is done. the important thing is finding them. once they’re back, we can figure all this out. together.”

before anyone could respond, cleo’s sharp voice cut through the tension. “wait. look!”

all heads turned toward the shoreline. two figures emerged from the distance.

“is that—” sarah started, but rafe didn’t wait for confirmation.

“y/n!” he shouted, already breaking into a run.

the others followed as rafe sprinted across the rocky terrain, his heart pounding in his chest. the moment he reached you, he didn’t hesitate. his arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a tight embrace despite how drenched and exhausted you were.

“you’re okay,” he murmured, his voice hoarse. “thank God.”

jj, who was supporting you with one arm, stepped back with a faint smirk. “guess i’m chopped liver now,” he muttered, though his eyes betrayed his relief.

“shut up, j,” sarah said, brushing past him to check on you. “are you hurt? is the baby okay?”

jj made a wincing sound, “i’m good as well, thanks for asking.”

you nodded weakly, your voice barely audible. “i’m okay. we’re okay.”

rafe pulled back slightly, his hands still gripping your shoulders as he searched your face. “why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, his voice thick with emotion.

you hesitated, your gaze flicking to the others before landing back on him. “i didn’t know how,” you admitted. “i didn’t know what you’d do.”

his expression softened, though the frustration still lingered in his eyes. “i’m not perfect, y/n, but i deserved to know. you should’ve told me.”

“i know,” you whispered. “i’m sorry.”

he exhaled deeply, shaking his head. “we’ll figure it out. but next time, don’t keep me in the dark, okay?”

you nodded, tears stinging your eyes as relief washed over you.

the rest of the pogues watched from a few feet away, the tension easing as they saw the interaction. cleo crossed her arms with a satisfied smirk. “looks like things are about to get real interesting around here.”

kiara rolled her eyes. “as if they weren’t already.”

“alright, people,” john b said, clapping his hands. “let’s get back on the boat. we’ve got a long way to go, and i don’t think this baby is waiting for us to sort out our drama.”

everyone chuckled softly, the storm behind them in more ways than one as they headed back toward the boat—together.

the sun was blazing overhead as the boat pulled into the small, bustling port of a coastal moroccan town. the storm was a distant memory now, though the tension it left behind was still palpable. the pogues were quiet as they docked, the salt-crusted air mingling with the scents of spices and fresh fish wafting from the market nearby.

rafe hadn’t let go of your hand since the moment he had you back, and he wasn’t about to start now. his grip was firm but gentle, his thumb occasionally brushing against your skin as if to reassure himself that you were still there.

“you feelin’ okay?” he asked quietly, leaning closer to you as the group began unloading supplies.

“i’m fine,” you said for what felt like the hundredth time, though the way your heart fluttered at his concern betrayed your frustration.

he didn’t seem convinced. “you need water? food? to sit down for a bit?”

oyu sighed, a small smile tugging at your lips despite yourself. “rafe, i’m okay. really.”

sarah, who had been listening with mild amusement, rolled her eyes as she grabbed her bag. “rafe, she’s pregnant, not fragile. let her breathe.”

he shot her a glare but didn’t respond, his attention still on you. “just let me know if you need anything,” he said softly.

“i will,” you promised, squeezing his hand.

as the group made their way into the town, the cobblestone streets came alive with vibrant colors and sounds. market stalls were bursting with fruits, textiles, and handcrafted goods, and merchants called out in several languages to passersby. the sheer energy of the place was overwhelming but invigorating.

jj whistled low, his eyes scanning the scene. “man, this place is something else.”

“keep your eyes on the mission,” pope reminded him, though even he couldn’t hide his awe.

cleo grinned, nudging you lightly. “bet you could use some of this food right about now, huh? what’s baby hungry for?”

you laughed, shaking your head. “we’re good, cleo, i promise. let’s just focus on finding groff.”

“still, wouldn’t hurt to grab something for later,” rafe said, already scanning the nearest stalls.

sarah groaned. “rafe, i swear, if you don’t chill—”

“leave him be,” john b cut in with a smirk. “it’s kinda funny. in an overbearing, borderline-annoying way.”

rafe ignored them both, steering you gently toward a fruit stand. “pick something. anything.”

you sighed but complied, grabbing a couple of oranges. the merchant smiled warmly as he handed over a few bills, and you couldn’t help but notice how his demeanor had shifted. gone was the sharp-edged, volatile rafe you were used to. in his place was someone softer, more attentive—a side of him you hadn’t seen before.

as the group continued deeper into the town, jj walked beside you, his voice low. “how are you feeling? really.”

“i’m good, i think,” you said honestly. “it’s just... a lot to take in.”

he nodded, her expression thoughtful. “rafe’s... different with you. i mean, not completely different, but it’s like he actually cares. that’s new.”

you glanced at rafe, who was busy arguing with pope about directions. a small smile tugged at your lips. “yeah. it is.”

before jj could respond, john b waved the group over. “alright, we’ve got a lead,” he said, holding up a map. “groff’s last known location is a few miles inland. we need to keep moving if we’re gonna catch him.”

the group fell into step, following john b through the winding streets. rafe stayed close to you, his hand never leaving yours, his protectiveness unwavering.

“let me carry your bag,” he offered as the heat bore down on the group.

“rafe, i’ve got it,” you said, though your tone was more amused than annoyed.

he gave you a look but didn’t push the issue. insteaf, he brushed a strand of hair from your face, his touch surprisingly gentle. “you sure?”

“i’m sure,” you said softly, your chest tightening at the concern in his eyes.

for a moment, the chaos of your journey faded, and it was just the two of you, standing in the middle of a foreign town, surrounded by the buzz of life. depsite everything—the storm, the baby, the uncertainty of what lay ahead—you felt a flicker of peace.

“we’ll figure this out,” rafe said, his voice low but steady. “all of it. i promise.”

and for the first time, you believed him.

[peachpitfics]

Don't Blame Me

Fandom: Bridgerton

Summary: Daphne Bridgerton is your closest childhood friend, her eldest brother, Anthony, is the love of your life. After avoiding each other for years, you both finally lose control.

Length: 3.2k

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

Content Warnings: Unprotected sex, sex in public, penetrative vaginal sex, orgasm, 'caught in the act' vibes, best friends brother.

Bridgerton master list (tag list)

Like many other close family friends of the Bridgerton’s, their home was always a beacon of safety and comfort, especially for you. You were Daphne Bridgerton’s first friend, and you had remained close well into adulthood, she wrote to you still from her new life with the Duke. Unfortunately, Daphne would not be able to meet you in Mayfair this season, the Bridgerton’s playing host while your mother and father were out of the country. It was your third year out; you had a few hopeful matches in mind, not realizing how difficult the season might be with unobtainable love staring you in the face.

“We are so glad to have you this year, y/n. It has been so long since we have seen you around the Ton” Violet Bridgerton was as much your mother as your own.

“Father’s responsibilities have been consuming these past few years. Mother and I hardly made it to the season last year. I am glad to be here, spending some time in familiar places” You smiled, linking arms with her as she escorted you to the ballroom. Your parents had entrusted your match to you, however, had requested the viscountess to keep a watchful eye.

Waltzing into the drawing room, just like old times, Benedict and Colin, discarding their playing cards, exclaimed with joy, rushing to greet you as if a long-lost sibling had returned. There was nothing as lonely as being an only child, deep in the countryside. Eloise was fretting in the corner, fingers agitated, tapping the outside of a book. This was to be her coming out year.

Anthony entered from the far side door, his feet skidding to a halt at the sight of you.

“You arrived” Anthony said flatly, turning on the ball of his foot, and exiting as quickly as he had come in. Embarrassed, you frowned, smiling chastely praying no one would notice his strange behaviour. It had been a year since you had last seen each other.

“I apologise, he is so bizarre in the mornings lately” Violet squeezed your shoulders, leading you over to a table laden with treats. Sitting on the settee with Hyacinth and Eloise, eating small cakes and discussing the books being read amongst you were some of the precious things you missed about living in the city.

In an unsuspicious amount of time, you excused yourself from company to find the washroom. Anthony stood outside the drawing room, leaning against the wall, unblinking and mind drifting elsewhere. You ignored each other walking past, which felt a lot like tiny shards of glass embedding into your heart. Locking yourself in the washroom, trying desperately to keep tears at bay, you looked into the mirror and told yourself it did not matter. You were going to find love this year, somewhere else. 

When you opened the door, Anthony had moved, he was nearly pressed against the door, waiting for you to come out. He stuffed himself into the washroom with you, closing the door as silently as he could.

“Why are you here?” He asked. He looked different from a year ago, he had changed quite a lot more than you were expecting. He had shortened his hair and filled out into his body. His hands looked the same, the same ring on that damned finger, flexing in distress and awkward guilt.

“It is the beginning of the social season. I am here to find a husband.” You stated plainly.

“A husband?” He scoffed, charming disdain painted across his face.

“Yes, it is what young ladies do in polite society. Was that unclear?” You asked. Your lack of facial expression and tone seemed to startle him, he had no idea what you were thinking.

“Why are you acting this way?” Anthony stuttered forward, getting uncomfortably close.

With the melancholic drop of your shoulders, and a heavy exhale, you pushed past Anthony and made your way back to the drawing room. It was so like him to put the narrative back on you. Anthony should have asked himself why he was acting this way – after all, it was he who decided not to court you. It was he who decided to kiss you beside the carriage that night. It was he who decided the two of you should not speak any longer. It was he who broke your heart.

The remainder of the evening was free of Anthony, filled with laughter at the dining room table over a delectable dinner. The Bridgerton’s sense of family was everything to you – even if Gregory and Hyacinth were bickering for most of the meal, it still felt as it was meant to. Violet showed you to the guest room, it had not changed much over the years, it smelled the very same.

“I am sorry Anthony could not join us for dinner” Violet’s voice echoed with somber searching. Perhaps she had heard the two of you in the washroom?

“Do not be,” You said quickly, “His time is his own, he does not owe me anything” Violet bowed her head, words fighting against her lips. She instead pursed them into a smile and closed the door behind her. Those shards of glass moved again, every second in this house, nausea held you hostage, terrified of running into him in the halls.

Daphne was the only other person alive who knew what had happened between Anthony and yourself. She had been disappointed in him, angry with the way he had handled everything. While she promised there would never be a change to your friendship, it had never really been the same. You tossed and turned far longer than normal; your mind flooded with images of the past. Thrusting yourself out of bed, it was clear you were not going to be sleeping tonight, you decided that a distraction may be best. In your nightgown, candle in hand, you remembered your way to the study.

The study was clear of any inhabitants, it was tidy, and the few cases of books loomed high over you, reaching the ceiling. Nothing in the Bridgerton house seemed to change, except Anthony, and it was perpetually for the worse in your opinion. You selected a book randomly from the nearest shelf and perched yourself on the seat closest to the window, looking out over the square. Lounging sleepily, you read in the low candlelight, only disturbed by the creaking of the door, an unexpected sound, making you jolt.

“I knew you’d be in here” Anthony said softly, entering the room with caution as your emotionless face watched him. “You were always in here when we were children. No one could ever find you” His smile was humorless.

“You did” You waited before responding, wondering why he was here, speaking with you, “Why are you here, right now, Anthony?” You demanded.

Anthony moved to the seat across from yours, sitting gingerly, holding eye contact in the hopes you would not tell him to leave. You allowed him to sit, his hands folded in front of him.

“I don’t know” Anthony rubbed desperately at his forehead, “I just got up, and felt myself pulled here, some unknown force, dragging me to you” Anthony admitted. You had always been attracted to each other, always gravitating towards one another.

“I did not choose to come here; my mother asked a favor of yours. I would never have chosen to be this close to you. You destroyed me, Anthony” Tears welled to your eyes, “We cannot be near each other – you made that it very clear, you took what you wanted of me, and cast me aside” Hands pressed down on your knees, you pushed off, making for the closest exit. Anthony dashed around in front of you, placing his body between you and the door for the second time today.

“Goodnight, Viscount Bridgerton” You curtsied formally, hoping the rules of social engagement were enough for this man to understand the dangerous position he was putting both of you in, yet again.

Anthony’s hand trembled, reaching out, taking yours into his. His fingers tangled between yours, his grip strengthening when he realized you were not pulling away. His thumb affectionately circling the skin on wrist, the sound of his swallowing resounding across the empty room, his anxious tongue flicking over his lips. If anything was clear, it was the internal battle that seemed to be always happening inside Anthony’s mind.

His touch, the supreme legacy of your existence. His unsteady breath, captivating your common sense. The thrilling space between you slowly closing, heads bobbing forward as if intoxicated and unable to control oneself, meeting together in the middle in an exhilarating kiss, just like you had remembered it.

His lips were shamelessly enthusiastic, as if made for this very purpose, just for you. His forceful hands weaved into your loose hair, pulling you deeper into every kiss. You were overcome, that old bold, need for him to find its way out of the labyrinth you had designed for it. Anthony’s fingers pressed to your hips, his teeth nipped eagerly at the skin on your neck, softs sighs of delight followed.

It was when his hand moved sensually to your breast that you broke free of the enchanting dance you had found yourself in so many times before with him. Your body did not reflect the same pleasures, you took his hands from your body and laid them at his sides, and stood tall and stepped back.

“I am here to secure a husband, for my future” Tears found their way back to you.

“Y/n…” Anthony shook his head, stepping forward, trying to hold onto you again.

“If you cannot give me what I seek, please, stop hunting me down. I want a life with you, Anthony. I will love you until my dying breath… But you, you will never grow up” You said finitely, again, pushing your way past him and fleeing back to your room.

~

Most of the next day was spent in tired indifference, you remained in your room, preparing for the first ball of the season. Tears had stained your pillow the remainder of the night, each knock at the door struck a chord of hope in your heart, wishing for Anthony.

Eloise and Violet helped you into your gown, the ladies’ maids fixing your hair and face. Violet ran a motherly thumb under your puffy eye, her compassionate heart shining through her eyes and tender smile. You gave a little nod, knowing there was never anything you could hide from her – she knew everyone in the Bridgerton house better than she let on.

The Viscounts escorted Eloise into Lady Danbury’s estate, greeting the Queen and Lady Danbury ahead of you. Violet linked arms with you in solidarity, following Anthonys actions and proceeding into the ball.

“Who will you be accepting dances from this evening?” The Viscountess asked quietly.

“I am not restricting myself to names, I will dance with any eligible man who asks” You answered politely.

Violet gave your forearm a squeeze, “That is very sensible” She nodded, releasing you, sending you off into the lion’s den. You met up with Eloise, taking a short turn about the room to appear social, greeting the other young ladies who you’d met years previous. There were several older men who seemed to take an interest in you as you moved about the room with your friend. No one really stood out to you, no true love at first sight, much to your dismay.

Retiring to the wall with a glass of lemonade in hand, you watched the gorgeous young women excited to dance with suitors and recalled how that was never an experience you had.

Soon enough, one of the suitors who had shown interest in a season previous approached, positioning himself next to you. Lord Harlan Grahame was intelligent, considerate, and not entirely horrible to look at.

“Lord Grahame” You curtsied, a familiar smile finding its way back onto your face.

“Miss y/n, I do hope your mother and father are quite well” He remarked, having known them for many years now, he had noticed their absence.

“They are in abroad, my father has business to conduct in Greece and my mother only saw fit to tend to him during this time” You explained, “I am being hosted by the Bridgerton family. How is your family?” You asked in politeness.

“Fantastic, Mother has moved herself to the country and hopes to get yet another dog soon” He laughed, clearly happy to be free of her in his home. Laughing along with him, you spied Anthony, discreetly looking on from across the ballroom. The conversation between yourself and Lord Grahame was easy and hardly uncomfortable. He was charismatic enough that you could see yourself becoming quite fond of each other in no time at all. He made small jokes at no one’s expense, he offered refreshments frequently and complimented you in kindness. You could see and accept a perfectly happy future with the Lord.

Across the ballroom, sheer asperity brewed live in Anthonys eyes for all to see. He was known to have a temper amongst society. With a final twitch of his left eye, Anthony’s feet picked up under him, carrying him in your direction. Violet watched on, fear and embarrassment ready and willing in her chest.

“I apologise” You mumbled preemptively to Lord Grahame as Anthony arrived to interrupt your conversation.

“Miss y/n, may I have this dance?” Anthonys eyes were terrifying, filled with rage and jealousy. You paused, contemplating antagonizing him, forcing his hand, backing him into a corner. But relinquished, excusing yourself from Lord Grahames company, taking Anthony’s hand as he swept you off to the dancefloor.

You did not meet his eye, your nails dug into the skin on his hand in resentment. You said nothing to each other for the first several minutes of the dance.

“You cannot marry him” Anthony muttered in quiet, helpless indignation.

Giving him a great look of disbelief, “Who are you to tell me who I can marry? I do not answer to you, Viscount” You growled into his ear as he pulled you in tighter.

Anthony finished the dance, bowing to you, holding onto one of your hands with unbelievable force. He walked swiftly from the dance floor, conspicuously pulling you along behind him, and into a room down the hall.

“You cannot blame me for acting this way!” He yelled, “If I have to see you speak to another man this season, if I have to witness another man watch as you walk by – You have driven me to the brink of insanity” He heaved, frantic energy filling his body.

“What would you have me do? Spend my life in loneliness, a Spinster? Would that be convenient to you, Anthony?” You parried.

His hands ran through his hair stressfully, at a loss for words, unable to express himself in the way he wanted. His intention had not been to yell when he sequestered you away to this side room.

“I was fine! You left Mayfair, and I was well. Now, here you are – and God help me, I am intoxicated every second we are in the same room. Your presence is the most decadent drug, forcibly hypnotizing me. I am powerless to you” Anthonys words were like honey, carried on the end of a bee sting.

“You made your choice!” You yelled back at him, hoping the music was loud enough outside.

“I was young, y/n! I made the wrong choice!” He retorted, his words shaking, and unfiltered for the first time in a long time.

There was a second of unblinking silence between you before magnetic energy pulled you into each other, deranged nipping at each other’s lips ensued. Hands grabbed and grasped at skin and hair, trying to force your beings into one person. There was a white-hot craze that seemed to come over the both of you, and you had felt it before, a few times.

Anthony sucked your bottom lip into his mouth, biting and kissing in a spontaneous fire.

“Someone will hear” You moaned into his ear, as his teeth moved their way down your neck. Anthony did not seem to care, his mouth on your chest, fondling and sucking on your breasts, still sitting pertly in your dress. He was simply uncontrollable, his behaviour now inherently superior compared to when he had been speaking.

Anthony maneuvered your body across the room, hands comfortably held in places of control, his left on your lower back, his right splayed across your throat like the prettiest necklace. You reached the door, his hands twisting your hips to face it. Your palms met the wood, bracing as Anthony bent you slightly, kicking your feet apart with his. Anthony hiked up your gown, undoing his pants in the same instant and buried himself inside of you.

You mouth gaped silently, aghast at the entire situation, but thanking God above for the opportunity.

“Oh my god,” Anthony gnarled into your ear from behind, “Just like I remember it” He moaned, sinking deeper and deeper it felt like. Every thrust led with intense and vicious primality, his hands wrapped around each of your upper arms, for leverage. He was right, it was just how you remembered – overwhelming, devastating, unforgettable. You had thought about your secret affair with Anthony every day since you had moved away. The pleasure Anthony elicited from you sent you into a familiar haze, deep and indefensible. Every movement, every sound from him made you feel greedy, always wanting just a little more.

The way he pounded into your smaller frame rattled the wooden door you were leaning on. “Anthony! They are going to hear!” You squealed in a whisper back to him.

“Let them” He panted, “If anyone asks, I’ll tell them I’m fucking my future wife” Anthony’s hand found its way into your hair, pulling your back sharply for a profound, wet kiss. Anthonys fingers sunk into the flesh of your hip, painfully pleasant as his nails clambered for an anchor. Your body arched back involuntarily, Anthony powering through fast, harsh thrusts as he found his inevitable end, placing sloppy kisses on your shoulder as he slowly finished moving inside of you.

You both leaned on the door in exhaustion, bodies heaving in unison. Anthony placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, stepping backwards and rebuttoning his breeches, fixing your dress behind you. You turned to face him slowly, knowing he could very well go back on every word he had said not moments before.

The softest smile enriched his face, his eyes lit in such a way that you had never seen them. His arm dashed out, pulling you into a grinning embrace, smooching dear kisses upon your lips.

“Loving you causes me delirium, y/n” He nipped at your nose, your foreheads planted together, eyes closed in tranquility.

As you stood, the doorknob gently turned and Violet Bridgerton slid her head through the gap, assumingly checking on the both of you; you had been in here for a little while longer than societally acceptable for two young single people.

Her hand flew over her heart, “Oh thank God!” She exclaimed, smiling ear to ear, a sense of pride glistened in her eyes.

“I cannot wait to write Daphne” The viscountess cheered quietly, finding it hard to contain her excitement. “I knew that you would find each other” She chuffed, slipping out, closing the door. Your foreheads knocked together again, never having a minutes peace in such a large family – you stood there a moment longer, relishing such a long awaited and monumental confession of your love.

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

tag list: @cringycat24 // @blckbarbiedoll // @freyagallileaevans // @junkie05 // @rosabeetroot // @flamewriterr //

If you would like to be tagged in Bridgerton fics, please let me know!

[indulgentdaydream]

headcanons with attractive things jason does 😭🫶

anon i have GOT YOU

When he sits on a couch, no matter if you’re on too or not, that man is SPREAD

Arms wide and resting on the back of the couch. Manspreading his thighs wide open. A relaxed expression on his face. Maybe a book in hand.

When moving in for a kiss, he cups your face with his left hand first. Then strokes his thumb on your cheek twice while actually kissing you.

Every. Single. Time. Doesn’t matter where or when. If it’s just a peck or y’all are making out, that’s what he starts it with.

Kisses on the back of your neck if he’s walking past you and you’re looking down.

Also will keep his hands resting on your hips if standing behind you.

He’ll swear UP AND DOWN that he means nothing by it. That it’s just a habit. But will keep a hand on your thigh while driving a car. Not even sexual. Just comforting.

Opening doors for you and guiding you through with a hand on the small of your back

You’re both sleeping in the same bed? He’s dead asleep. Usually isn’t. But with you, for sure he is.

And if you slip out of his reach while he is dead asleep, he’s reaching out and dragging you back like a lost teddy bear. And he’s asleep the whole time

When you’re out eating or at a bar and he’s getting a bit anxious with all the people around, he’ll play footsies with you under the table

Got so intense once he accidentally knocked the table over and you two got kicked out

This man LAUGHS

No one talks about how Jason’s laugh (may have a fic in the works about it. I’ll finish it if y’all ask)

I’m not talking “he chuckled” or “he grinned” or “his shoulders shook with silent laughter”

I’m talking about how this man tosses his head back before leaning forward, clutching his stomach with one hand, the other reaching for some part of you to grasp as you laugh along with him. How his laughter is deep and BOOMING. It takes up a whole room. Echoes across the street. Enters your ears and melts into your blood stream and goes immediately to your heart which picks up its beating to make sure to get it to the rest of your body. How he straightens up again, his face split in a grin, eyes opening again while he has to wipe away tears of laughter, his body still shaking with it.

I want to make jason todd genuinely laugh and if the sound makes me go deaf then so be it because at least i was able to hear the most beautiful sound in the universe

I’m sorry this got off topic but

He wears glasses when he reads and that’s hot too i guess

[inkskinned]

the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.

three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.

two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.

their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.

one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.

i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.

i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.

and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?

you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.

a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.

someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.

[moonlitwitchdaisy]

mlb player!gojo who is the most arrogant player on the team, because he’s the best player in the baseball world.

mlb player!gojo who, during games, takes off his jersey and flexes his muscles after every home run, giving fans material for thirst trap edits on social media.

mlb player!gojo who is such a notorious womanizer that he’s seen with a new model, actress, or celebrity every week. He never looks for a serious relationship because nothing is more important to him than his career.

mlb player!gojo who gets scolded by his manager after a scandal breaks out about him and his best friend (NBA’s star player Suguru Geto) hooking up with the same girl at a nightclub.

mlb player!gojo who feels nervous for the game after the scandal because paparazzi won’t leave him alone, and the media has labeled him a “man-whore.”

mlb player!gojo who steps onto the field for the game but is too distracted to focus. When it’s his turn to bat, he makes the worst hit of his career—something no one would have expected from him—and the ball ends up hitting you, a spectator who only came to the game because your friend insisted.

mlb player!gojo who realizes what he’s done and immediately leaves the field to rush to your seat, hoping the person he accidentally hit is okay. Running up to your row, he spots you clutching your face in pain, and the sight makes him curse under his breath. Kneeling down, he asks, “Are you alright?”

mlb player!gojo whose heart nearly stops when he looks into your tear-filled eyes because you’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen.

mlb player!gojo who starts apologizing profusely but is suddenly snapped out of it when you slap him across the face. As he holds his stinging cheek, he hears a string of creative curses from you (ones even he hasn’t heard before) and struggles not to laugh. When your friend helps you leave the stadium, Gojo watches your retreating figure, knowing in that moment he’s just met the woman he’s been searching for his entire life.

mlb player!gojo who gets chewed out by his club and manager after the game but begs them for help finding the injured fan so he can make amends.

mlb player!gojo who, the day after the incident, contacts you through his manager via email to offer to cover your hospital expenses and asks to meet with you. When he sees your reply, stating, “Please tell your star player he can go straight to hell,” he bursts out laughing. While his manager thinks he’s lost his mind, Gojo is ready to try every possible way to reach you.

mlb player!gojo who doesn’t give up and tracks down the bookstore where you work. When he shows up, you’re still working despite having a bandage over your eye. Seeing the smug smile of “the best player in the sport you now hate the most,” you demand to know what he’s doing there and how he found you. With his usual calm demeanor, he replies, “Once I set my mind on something, I don’t stop until I make it happen.”

mlb player!gojo who somehow convinces you to go out for an apology dinner with him when your eye heals (you’re not even sure how you said yes). When he arrives outside your apartment at the time he promised, he's left breathless. Standing in front of him, blushing with embarrasment in your red dress, you watch Gojo opens the passenger door for you, and even though you still claim to hate him, his persistence makes you see him as a little more decent.

mlb player!gojo who spends the car ride battling his own desires because the most perfect woman in the world is sitting next to him.

mlb player!gojo who keeps you laughing throughout dinner and ensures you have an amazing time. To win your forgiveness, he gifts you an original 1894 edition of Pride and Prejudice, your favorite book. Your stunned expression leaves you speechless, which only makes him laugh. (And of course, he doesn’t let you return the gift, no matter how much you protest.) When you kiss his cheek at the end of the night before heading into your apartment, he gazes at you with lovestruck eyes.

mlb player!gojo who texts you every morning when he wakes up, before and after practice, and on his way to your place to ask what you’d like to eat. Even though you beg him to stop, deep down, you don’t want him to. Besides, who could stop Gojo anyway?

mlb player!gojo who tries to convince you to come to another game. When you refuse, he promises not to hit you with the ball this time. After half-heartedly punching him, you finally give in and agree to attend next week’s game.

mlb player!gojo who is hectic on the day of the game, knowing the woman he loves will be watching him live. Though his teammates ask why he’s so excited, he keeps your identity a secret to protect your privacy.

mlb player!gojo who runs straight to your seat after making the game-winning hit. Overcome with excitement, he kisses you—the woman he knows likes him but has never admitted it—fulfilling his long-time dream. When you pull him back for another kiss, tossing aside all your reservations, he whispers, “You’re all I’ve ever wanted.” And from that moment on, you’re officially together.

mlb player!boyfriend!gojo who asks you to move in with him just two days after your first kiss because he can’t stand being apart from you any longer. Though it feels sudden, you don’t really want to be away from him either.

mlb player!boyfriend!gojo who keeps your relationship out of the public eye. While you’re willing to face the world for him, protecting your privacy means everything to him.

mlb player!boyfriend!gojo who, once a notorious playboy who cared about nothing but his career, has now found the most precious thing in his life—you.

.ᐟ would you like to meet gojo’s best friends? (nba star!geto headcanons┊uefa champion!nanami headcanons)

.ᐟ Champions League Masterlist

all rights belong to the @moonlitwitchdaisy do not copy, reproduce, or translate my work.

gojo art by @teaforgods on X.

divider by @enchanthings-a

[fastandcarlos]

How Everyone In The Paddock Knows You're Dating : ̗̀➛ F1 Reaction

» Max Verstappen 

He’s naturally paying attention to you, without even realising that he’s doing it until one of the team nudges his side. The team are well aware of Max’s eyes trailing across to look at you, or switching off to the conversation as soon as you start talking. He doesn’t know he’s doing it, but the team are well trained and constantly have to remind Max to pay attention again. He can’t help but smile whenever he’s looking at you, especially when he watches you walk around the garage with such an interest, showing a genuine enthusiasm for learning as much as you can about where Max works and what he does, 

» Lando Norris 

He’s like a big kid most of the time, but Lando becomes a lot softer whenever he’s around you, like you make him weak at the knees just from being by his side. The team notice how needy he becomes as soon as he’s in your presence, searching for affection as often as possible. Lando stops focusing on anyone else, the only person that he wants to be around is you. No one in the garage can believe how different Lando is when he’s around you, how he stumbles around, how he giggles uncontrollably, how he can’t bear to be in the same room as you without some sort of physical contact.  

» Charles LeClerc 

Everyone knows that your Charles because his eyes are always watching you. He loves knowing exactly where you are, forever checking that you’re alright and that you’re safe. When he loses sight of you, Charles can’t help but panic, eyes darting around until he spots you again. There’s a fondness in his eyes whenever he’s watching you, if you’re smiling, he’s smiling, if you’re laughing, he laughs with you, and if you seem upset, Charles gets upset too, heading over to you to see if you’re alright. It doesn’t matter what’s happening at the paddock, Charles loves the feeling of knowing that you’re right there with him, like a comfort right by his side. 

» George Russell 

No one in the paddock can fault how much of a gentleman George is for you, despite how busy he is, he always manages to make time to do all the little things for you. He holds the door open for you at every opportunity, keeps his arm around you to protect you from the crowd, offers you his jacket whenever he notices that you’re getting cold, anything that he can in order to keep you safe. Before a race George checks up on you, makes sure that you’re warm enough, had plenty of food, and ensures you’re sat where you can see the race in a spot that’s nice and quiet.  

» Carlos Sainz 

His smile always gets bigger the second he notices you’re around, usually spotting you out of the corner of his eye whilst half listening to what’s being said by the team. When he knows you’re nearby, Carlos is eager for things to be wrapped up as soon as possible so he can go over and see you. As soon as you’re within touching distance, Carlos’ arm wraps around you, with a kiss pressed to the top of your head to greet you, wondering what you’ve been up to whilst he’s been busy. Nobody else needs to look to see if you’re there, they can tell by the excitement in Carlos’ expression that you’re around. 

» Oscar Piastri 

Every single person in the paddock has listened to Oscar tell some sort of story about you, he loves telling them about you. He talks about you with so much excitement that every single one of them knows just how in love Oscar is with you too, sounding much happier than he ever does when he’s talking about his car. He remembers every last detail about the things that he does with you, and has the world’s biggest smile on his face whenever he shares them with anyone. It’s one thing that he’ll never tire of, forever gushing about you around his team. 

» Daniel Ricciardo 

It’s the little things that everyone in the paddock notices that Daniel always does for you. It’s the way he passes you one of his caps if it’s particularly sunny or passes you his water bottle to drink out of when you tell him that you’re getting thirsty and can’t get through to get a drink. He’s constantly attentive, despite how busy he’s supposed to be, he can’t help but still pay attention and make sure that he’s protecting you. The whole team knows just how in love Daniel is with you, after all, he doesn’t take care of any of them anywhere near as well as he takes care of you. 

» Lewis Hamilton 

The team can’t help but admire the way that Lewis looks at you, like you’re the most fragile person in the world that he has to protect. He loves to have you glued to his side when he’s at the paddock, no matter who he’s talking to. Whether it be a team meeting, a chat with a sponsor, or providing some feedback to Toto and Bono, Lewis still has his eyes on you. You don’t say much, not that you can, but when you do speak, Lewis looks at you with such an adoring look that the rest of the team can’t help but admire how fond Lewis is of you. 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗